#Wolverine x you

[shellshocklove]

snapshot | old man!logan

pairing/AU: old man!logan howlett x female!reader

summary: short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! friends with benefits vibes who are also idiots in love, implied age gap, swearing, mentions and drinking of alcohol, use of pet names, logan's a bit of a grumpy dick, sex work, logan can't use a phone, logan can carry reader but he's also extremely strong, smut, praise kink, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), dom!logan, logan's got a dirty mouth, a little dacryphilia, sloppy blow job, facial, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: a little disclaimer. i actually have no idea how OF work i only read the wikipedia page, so i've taken some liberties with it to fit it with the plot lol. the idea for the reader as charles' caretaker is inspired by @joelsgoldrush's fic never is a promise <- incredible fic that everyone should read! and also a big thank you to @guiltyasdave for all the encouragement on this fic!! <333 happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The coffee tasted sour on his tongue as he waited, engine running on empty, but the whiskey kept his throat warm. Behind the apartment complex the sun crawled up the horizon and split the the dark asphalt in pieces with streaks of blinding sunlight. The street lights shut off just as you walked out, the rickety door slamming shut behind you.

Watching you round the front of the limousine Logan pulled his seat forward, his rough hand grabbing the wheel as his left foot tapped impatiently on the footrest. A tickle in his throat had him greet you with a cough, and he brought his fist to his mouth.

"Morning to you too," you said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Don't fuckin' slam the door like that– I've told you a thousand times," Logan grunted back and put the car in drive.

This was routine at this point. He picked you up in the morning after driving all night, and dropped you off again in the evening before he started his shift. Employing you took a large wad of cash out of his pocket, but at least he didn't have to worry about Charles being taken care of. You weren't a registered nurse or anything, not someone who'd had all the right references and education, but you needed money and didn't ask questions, and that had been perfect for Logan. He'd hired you about a year ago, and everything after had been routine.

When you didn't say anything back, only shifted your weight in the seat and leaned your head against the window, it pulled at something inside Logan. He couldn't deny you were a beautiful woman. He liked the way your nose curved, how soft your skin felt against his cheek every time you'd given him a reluctant hug, and he liked the way you smelled. It was primal, and in another life Logan would've had you in his bed already, but in this life, Logan was done with beautiful women.

Still early enough for the roads to be empty, Logan pushed the speed limit as he waited for you to speak – to finally say something trivial like you did every morning – some song you'd just discovered, or the plot twist in the reality program you watched every night, or how they were out of your favorite yogurt at the grocery store. He'd reply with a grunt, or with nothing at all, just letting you talk.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan noticed how you picked at the skin around your nails, and when the sharp metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils, he heaved a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong with you?" he grumbled. A lilt of annoyance coated the words, and Logan hated how your silence had affected him. His harsh tone didn't seem to bother you, and the realization cut like a knife; biting down, Logan's jaw clenched.

"It's nothing."

Logan had to hold back the scoff he wanted to let out, "Clearly it's somethin', kid."

Finally, a reaction out of you. Pushing yourself to sit up straight, you let out a sigh as you turned your head to look at him. "My landlord raised my rent again… I'm thinking about how I'm gonna pay rent this month. I'm gonna be a few hundred bucks short," you told him.

Oh.

Gripping the wheel a little tighter, Logan couldn't help himself from asking, "You tellin' me you're quittin'?"

He couldn't blame you, he thought he paid you a fair wage, but it seemed that everything had gotten more and more expensive lately. The rides had been few and far between and the tank of gas didn't take him as far anymore. The weekends kept him afloat, along with bachelor and bachelorette parties, prom nights, and knuckleheaded business men too fancy to drive a regular cab to the airport. Had it not been for Charles' medication he'd give you a raise. Logan wasn't stupid, he knew he couldn't do this without you.

"No," you shook your head, "I wouldn't do that to Charles."

But you'd do it to me, Logan thought and let the words unsaid hang in the air between you as he pulled onto the dirt road leading to the smelting plant.

"I'll figure something out," you said, before a smirk teased over your face, that smile breaking forth the old you hidden behind this morning's melancholia. "Maybe I should start an Only Fans or something," you laughed.

"What's that?" Logan grunted, too focused on keeping his foot soft on the brake and avoiding the potholes to hear your joking lilt.

"Only Fans?" you questioned, one eyebrow raised in surprise before your eyes softened at the corners. "It's a social media platform for porn," you explained, "It's subscription based so you make an account and people pay a monthly subscription to see your content."

Porn?

Slowing down to a stop outside the gate, Logan put the limousine in park, the engine still humming.

"And how's that gonna help you pay rent?" Logan wondered, turning slightly in his seat to finally get a good look at you.

You were quiet for a second, eyes searching his face before the sound of a distant train had you looking away, almost bashful. "It's ridiculous," you muttered, "I don't have anyone to do it with anyway."

Before Logan could cough up an answer your hand found the passenger door, and a gust of sharp desert air seeped in. "I'll figure out the rent somehow… Sleep well, Logan," you told him, a wistful smile coating your features, before you climbed out the limousine and opened the gate. His eyes stayed glued to you as he drove past you, flicking to watch you close the gate after him in the rearview mirror. When you headed for the tank without your usual wave, a frown pulled at his face.

Stepping out of the limousine, Logan watched you leave, watched the way your hips swayed with new interest. Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he found his flask – desperate to quench this fresh thirst with the last sip of burning alcohol, smoothing his dry throat. 

The cold coffee left a brown splatter as he discarded it; the coffee seeped into the sand. Inside the steeled walls he now called 'home' reeked of dust, like stepping into an antique shop, and Logan couldn't hold back his cough. Walking deeper into the plant with heavy steps, the old trinkets and equipment told a story of time passed.

So much time had passed.

Hanging his suit jacket over the back of one of the chairs Logan started working the small buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before tossing it gently over the ironing board. Food would have to wait, he already knew the fridge wasn't stocked. Instead, he found the bottle of whiskey he'd left on the table, grabbing it by the neck before he took a large swig.

The whiskey helped, at least that's what he told himself, but his senses never dulled enough and the weight never got any easier. Sitting down heavy on the bed, Logan drank long and hard, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from trailing to you and what you’d muttered. I don't have anyone to do it with anyway.

What was it you'd called it? Just Fans? No, that wasn't right… Only Fans.

Logan remembered the first tape he ever saw; it had been the 70s, a summer in California, at some party he'd been forced to by a beautiful woman. The tape had been projected onto a wall in the living room, like background noise no one paid attention to. It had been lewd and obnoxious, but no one had seemed to mind, high as kites and drunk as skunks. Soon, Logan hadn't minded either, whisking away the woman to make his own private porn in one of the bedrooms.

Behind the woven fabric of his slacks, his cock twitched at the thought, but it wasn't the porn playing at the party, or the memory of the woman he'd fucked that filled his mind, it was you. 

It was innocent at first; the way your front teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as you pondered your next move in a game of chess opposite Charles, how your eyes sparkled under the low streetlights as he drove you home at the end of the day, and how your perfume had filled the limousine and clung to his skin that one time you'd left your jacket in the passenger seat. His hand came down to rub over the growing bulge in his pants, soothing the growing ache with a hard press, pulling a rumbling moan from his chest. 

Soon the innocent memories of you turned to filth. Logan's mind filled with images of you underneath him, his cock buried balls deep in your wet cunt as you withered for him. Then, as quickly as the first image had come, another took its place: of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, gagging around him and swallowing him down like a good girl.

With each rubbing press to his cock, Logan couldn't shake the rolling images of you. It was wrong, never had he thought about you like that, never had he wanted to think of you like that, but once he'd started, he couldn't stop.

Working his fingers, it was almost instinctual as they moved to undo the button of his pants. His hand dug into his front, large hand palming himself with hard presses, as his cock hardened. Trailing his fingers upwards, stopping right above the elastic band of his underwear, his hand so close to wrapping around himself, a hint of shame pulled him out of the gutter.

He shouldn’t think about you like that.

Pulling away, like he'd burnt his hand, Logan let out a deep grumbling sigh. Leaning back on both hands, he let his head fall back as he squeezed his eyes shut. In his pants his cock throbbed with need. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman, so long since he'd felt the velvet walls of a tight cunt wrapped around him, too long since he'd felt like he wasn't a monster, if only for a few blissful seconds.

Bringing the neck of the whiskey bottle to his mouth, Logan drowned his need in  temporary numbness, focusing instead on how the warmth filled his chest and dulled every ache. Falling back with a heavy bounce, he nursed the bottle in the crook of his thick arm, letting his eyes fall shut.

Logan couldn't remember the last time he wasn't tired, couldn't remember when his body didn't ache with every move. His veins bled through with rust and alcohol, and he hoped the latter made the corrosion run smoother.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the same flashing images filled the darkness. Years of fighting, years of killing, all the people he'd lost. It was the same show every night, and every night it tore a piece of him away, of his joy.

The bottom of the whiskey bottle clanked sharply as it hit the floor and a cough got stuck in his throat. It ripped and jerked in his chest, and he keeled over himself, fighting against it. When his head hit the pillow again, his eyes didn't fall shut, they trailed the walls, found the holes of blinding daylight seeping in through the holes in the corrugated metal sheets, and his thoughts found you again.

Curiosity got the best of him, and a hand dug into the back pocket of his pants for his phone. The small icons and text blended together as the screen lit up his face. When Logan held the phone a little further away the screen only got blurrier. With an exasperated sigh, he sat up, his body protesting as he grabbed his suit jacket off the dining chair, digging into the inner pocket for his new glasses.

Slumping down in the chair, his glasses resting at the tip of his nose, he tapped at his phone. He rarely used the thing outside of work, but suddenly he tapped at something that made it speak to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite get that," his phone said.

"Hello?" Logan spoke back.

Again his phone lit up and the voice answered. "Hello, what can I help you with?"

"What is Only Fans?"

……..

Fitting a brittle leaf between your thumb and pointer finger, you studied Charles' plants. The table always looked a mess after he'd tended to them, dirt spilled onto the table and tools thrown haphazardly about. Cupping your hand, you brushed the dirt into your hand, and discarded it into a pot you thought needed it.

Flicking your wrist, you looked at the time again. It was getting late. Usually by this time, Logan would have you halfway home already. Resorting to cleaning up the tools, you decided to give him half an hour before you'd start looking for him. He never slept in, although you could clearly see he needed it. 

Logan wasn't a man to show weakness, not to anybody, rather, he showed his teeth, barking and fighting against you or anyone who dared speak to him. It had intimidated you at first, and you'd held your tongue, afraid he'd bite your head off, but in time you'd come to realize that his gruff demeanor was just that, a façade. 

Charles on the other hand, senile and more and more forgetful, was the opposite of his son. On good days he beat you at chess while he told you stories about 'the good ol' days'. His imagination was vast, telling stories about the X-Men like he knew them, like he'd been a part of them, and especially by nightfall his stories would become even wilder. He'd tell you about his 'abilities', how he could read minds. He'd tell stories about Logan too, tragic ones, that if it hadn't been for the stack of comics you'd found, you would've almost said they were true.

Finding the chair by Charles' bed, you watched him deep in sleep. A heaviness could be felt in your chest as you thought about how his good and lucid days had seemed to get fewer and fewer lately. You found yourself having the same conversations with him, and once again today, he didn't want to get out of bed, telling you his head hurt. 

You wished you knew more of his condition, but Logan wouldn't tell you anything other than that Charles suffered from seizures, and if he didn't get his medication the consequences would be great. The way Logan had said it to you, his voice sharp and strict, it sounded serious, and in the year you'd taken care of Charles, you'd been diligent with his medication. Not once had you experienced a seizure with him.

Reaching over him, your palm found Charles' cheek. Stroking your hand lightly over his face, you felt the prickling stubble against your skin. His comment earlier about his head, had you worried. Logan usually supplied you with Charles' medication – from where you didn't know – there hadn't been any doctor's visits or health checks from what you could recall.

Maybe Logan didn't have insurance? It was your only explanation, a reason for why he'd found a more creative way of caring for his father. 

In a way you respected it, hacked an unknowing crack in Logan’s harsh façade– he cared. Only respect didn’t keep you from wanting Logan to tell you more, to open up, but wringing out more than a grunt from him was difficult. Instead, you made sure to let him know when you were running low on the pills and injections, and usually by the next day he'd hand over a new bottle. 

Stroking over Charles’ cheek, another chill of nervousness ran up your back where a worry tugged at your neck. 

Yesterday, after a week had passed since you'd asked Logan for more medication. He’d told you not to worry, that he’d have the pills soon, but running so low you'd had to resort to rationing Charles' doses.

Pulling back your hand, your eyes found your watch again, but before you could register the time, Charles stirred beside you. Then, an excruciating blinding pain permeated through your body. It rang in your ears and had your body shaking in agony, but at the same time you couldn't move. You wanted to scream, let out the pain that froze you to the chair, but no noise came out. When your vision started to go foggy, you thought that this must be what dying was like, but never would you have thought dying would feel this painful.

Through the ringing in your ears, a heavy creak of the tank door could be heard– or was it a trick your brain played on you in your last moments? Like the broad figure moving closer, slowly, too slowly, like it walked through water. You couldn't see who it was, but you didn't have too. Surely, your brain showing you Logan in your last moments, must've been a trick. The figure hovered over Charles, maybe it feasted on him first, reaped his soul as an appetizer before it would have you.

And just as quickly as the pain had taken you, the pain stopped.

Heaving for breath, your body fell forward, it was like the air couldn't fill your lungs quick enough. Two large palms cupped your cheek, tilting your head to Logan's frowning face. If you didn't know better you thought he looked scared.

"You okay?" he barked, your head rolling in his hands, "Hey! Bub, look at me."

You found the strength to nod your head, but Logan seemed far from convinced. He swiped his thumb over your cupid's bow, a flash of red coating his thumb and his face turned to stone, his frown so deep it looked chiseled.

Then he moved with an uncharacteristic haste, hiking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the tank. Closing your eyes, you tried to put your brain back together the way it used to be, but everything felt scrambled. When your back hit the soft mattress of a bed, you finally opened them.

Over you, Logan's large form hovered. He said something to you, but you only registered his mouth moving, your eyes glued to his pink soft lips, and your vision cleared completely.

"Drink this," he ordered, shoving a glass of water in your hands, and just like that your hearing had snapped back. "'m gonna go check on Charles– don't fucking move."

With no energy left in your body, you wouldn't dream of it. Logan watched you take a careful sip, the water lukewarm, before he left you in what you finally realized was his bed. The first sip nourished your dry throat, like you’d walked for miles in the desert without tasting as much as a drop. Surging forward, you chugged the rest of the water before you fell back against his pillow, clutching the glass in the crook of your elbow.

The smell of him on his sheets overwhelmed your weakened mind; a deep heady smell with a warmth to it, woven through with the heaviness of man. It soothed your mushy muscles, helping release the tension in your body.

The time passed differently now, fast and slow at the same time, and after an eternity and a second Logan was back. The weight of him where he sat down at the edge of the bed, had your whole body tipping towards him. His large palm found your cheek again, the rough pads of his fingers soothing over the skin.

"You doin' okay?" he asked, his deep voice filtering through a hint of worry.

"W-what happened to him– to m-me?" you managed to croak out.

Logan's heavy hand didn't move away when the furrow between his eyebrows deepened, the one that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face.

"He had a seizure," he told you, like it was obvious, taking the glass of water from your hands,

He must've caught the way your face turned, the confusion that flitted across it, one that spelled 'seizures don't affect other people'.

"Listen," he started, drawing back his hand, "There’s no other way of explainin' it to you other than tellin' you that all those stories he's told you about him– about me… they're all true."

The frown that deepened over your face at his words, must've challenged the permanent one over Logan's face. "W-what? The stories about the X-Men?"

"Yes, the X-Men– Is he talkin' a hole through your head about anything else?"

"No, but… there aren't any more mutants."

"Not new ones,” he sighed, “But we're old, sweetheart– the last there is." His voice went quieter and quieter as he spoke, a hint of sadness eating the words, before his palm found your cheek again. "You see… Charles he's a very powerful mutant, and years ago he started a school for mutants–"

"–I know all of that already Logan– he told me," you cut him off, "I never believed him, I thought he was just confused– the stories they–"

"–I know, bub," this time he cut you off, but he let the next words linger on his tongue. Drawing back his hand, his eyes found the wall behind the bed. "I never meant for you to get hurt– it's my fault. If he gets his medication he's fine, but… you ain't the only one who's a few hundred dollars short– it's been a slow month."

Before you had a chance to reply, Logan rose on his feet. "The seizures messes with your brain, so get some rest. I'm gonna get his medication, and I'll wake ya in the mornin'." Logan didn't wait for you to protest before he grabbed the car keys off the table, and left you alone in his bed. 

Outside the moon climbed the sky, and the new darkness, along with your scrambled brain, had your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

……..

"Wake up, sweetheart."

Logan's gruff voice pulled you from a dreamless sleep; a sleep like you'd just closed your eyes. Blinking, your heavy eyelids pulled shut just as quickly as you'd opened them, leaving you with a snapshot of Logan's body hovering over you. You hummed, sleep coating your brain, while your body felt like you'd put it through the wringer at the gym.

"It's mornin'."

You tried again, blinking your eyes open with more success. Logan's black suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, instead he adorned a white tank top. Letting your gaze roll over him, you noticed the scars etched into his skin, so many scattered up and down his strong arms, and suddenly the memories of last night filtered back into your brain.

"Logan," you whispered so low even you weren't sure you’d heard it.

"I'm takin' you home, alright? I'll watch him today," he told you.

When Logan told you something, he meant it. Leaving you in his bed, it was like a replay of last night as he grabbed the car keys and black suit jacket off the table. 

Slowly, you sat up and leaned on your elbows, letting the world spin for a minute. Your clothes from yesterday clung to your skin, and you felt both cold and sweaty as you got out of bed.

With each step you took every muscle ached, but somehow you managed to walk out the door. The burning light of the morning sun blinded you, and with one hand raised you shielded your eyes from the harshness while you walked closer to the humming impatient motor of Logan's limousine. Just as you'd sunk into the leather seat and managed to shut the door behind you, Logan stepped on the gas, and the smelting plant vanished in the rearview window. 

When you'd finally left the dirt road behind and hit the highway, you cracked the window ever so slightly – the morning air blowing away the last of your tiredness. The closer you got to the city, the more your stomach growled. You hadn't had a thing to eat since lunch yesterday, the aftermath of Charles’ seizure knocking you out before dinner– you needed something to eat.

"Can we stop here?" you asked and pointed at a sign advertising a diner off the next exit.

"I'm drivin' you home," Logan replied, his eyes glued to the road.

"Logan, please, I'm starving," you begged with a pout.

A beat passed, his fingers tapping over the wheel as he weighed his options, then his eyes found yours where they lingered. Staring back, you didn't know what to do. Logan wasn't a man that said yes, he liked things done his way. You bit down on your bottom lip, showing off your front teeth like a silent 'please' written over your face, and Logan huffed.

The loud buzz of conversation hit you first when you stepped into the packed diner, Logan in tow. Waiters ran back and forth between the booths lining the windows, taking breakfast orders and pouring coffee, and at the sound of the bell as the door swung shut behind you, one of them looked up at you.

"Seat yourselves," she said with a smile as golden as the syrup poured over hotcakes, "I'll be with you in a jiffy."

Walking deeper into the diner, you found an empty booth in a quiet corner. Logan seemed pleased, never too keen on people, and after what you'd come to know after last night, you could understand his hesitation.

Logan. The Wolverine.

You remembered the comics from when you were a kid, remembered this one kid in your class in elementary school that had been obsessed with them, reading every issue and Wolverine had been his favorite. He was a scientist now, last you heard, and here you sat opposite the comic character himself.

"Mornin', what can I get you guys?" the waitress asked, pulling up to your table.

"Um," you grabbed at the laminated menu in front of you, your eyes scanning over the breakfast items. Everything looked good, your stomach growling loud as you took in the pictures, but then again you didn't think you'd ever been this hungry before.

"Just coffee f'me, ma'am," Logan grunted.

"Could I get a stack of the blueberry pancakes… and a coffee for me too, please?" you ordered, watching the waitress with the name tag 'Stacy' write down your order.

"That'll be all for you guys this morning?" she smiled.

"Yes, thank you," you returned her smile.

"Alright, I'll be back in a second with your coffees."

While you waited for your pancakes, Logan wasn't much company. He sipped his coffee, black and piping hot, as he leaned against the corner of the booth, legs spread wide, watching the people coming and going. In the silence between you, you decided to study him while you sipped your own coffee. He must've felt your gaze over him, from the way he clenched his jaw, but he never turned his head to look at you, instead he let you look.

When your pancakes finally arrived, you dug in immediately. Fresh, hot and deliciously pillow-y and soft, it was the best thing you'd had in a while. The blueberries weren't too sweet, cutting through the sweetness of the pancakes with a tangy taste, while the bitter taste of your coffee woke you up and filled you with new energy.

"So," Logan suddenly spoke up, almost making the piece of pancake you were chewing on go down the wrong pipe. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'm having the worst hangover in human history," you joked, "But better now after some food and caffeine."

Logan only hummed, turning his head back to people watching as you ate your pancakes. His silence had a frown work over your features when you placed your knife and fork down to sip on your coffee. He'd been so quiet all morning, which in truth wasn't new, but there was something about him now, something about the way his scowl dug a little deeper into his skin that had you asking:

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothin'," he answered, curt and to the point.

"Clearly it's something," you pried with a tilt of your head.

Another beat passed, before he leaned forward, a cough getting stuck in his throat. It sounded worse than it was, he'd told you once. So, you sipped your coffee, your eyes flitting away like you needed to give him privacy.

"I've been thinkin' about your proposal," he finally said, and you felt your eyebrows pull together in a frown.

"Wait?" your eyes found his, "What proposal?"

"About that subscription thing– the porn," he waved his hand, and leaned back again.

"Only Fans?" you asked, keeping your voice low, "It was just a joke, Logan."

"Well, maybe it's an idea for the both of us. I need money for Charles' medication, and you need money for rent– it'll just be us earnin' a little extra on the side, a win-win situation."

Letting his words sink in, you mulled over his idea in your brain. It wasn't like you weren't attracted to Logan, in truth, you'd wanted him to fuck you for a while now, but it had only been a fantasy, one to conjure forth late at night when you slipped your hand into your panties. To have it become a reality, served up by Logan himself on a silver platter, you'd never imagined.

How could you say no?

"Okay," you said, your voice breathy as what you'd just agreed to settled in your stomach. Having a little more cash in your account every month wouldn't hurt, and getting dick regularly sounded just as nice, it had been too long. "I'm in."

Logan only replied with a curt nod accompanied by an approving grunt, "Now eat your pancakes so we can get goin'."

………

"Cold feet?"

With the limousine parked outside your apartment building, a week's worth of anticipation came to a head. You and Logan hadn't really talked much in the days passed since the diner; Logan's main interest more in you feeling better after experiencing Charles' powers for the first time. He'd let you have a few days off, to heal up, to which you'd taken the opportunity to do some research and set up an Only Fans profile. Currently it was blank, but tonight that would change.

"No," you shook your head, telling true. "You?" you asked, turning in your seat to face Logan.

Logan eyes darted across your face. He never looked at you like that, and for a moment the oddity of the situation, of what you were about to do, settled in your stomach.

"No," Logan finally decided, and reached for the door handle, “Let’s get it over with before it gets too late.”

At his movement, you reached forward and grabbed his forearm, "Wait!"

With a grunt, Logan turned. "What?" he asked, his eyes settling on you with an eyebrow raised.

"I-I have an idea," you told him, and you didn't know why you stumbled over your words. With your hand still wrapped around his arm, his eyes fell to your touch, lingering before they found yours again.

"I was thinking–" you started, retracing your hand, "Well actually… I just restarted taking birth control and I wanted to settle into it before we have sex, so I thought maybe– if you want to of course," you rambled.

"Spit it out, bub, I ain't got all night," Logan cut you off.

"I thought maybe I could suck you off– here in the limo," you 'spat' out your suggestion, your front teeth immediately coming down to bully your bottom lip.

"You want to suck my cock… here?" he repeated. Leaning back in his seat, you didn't know if he spread his legs on purpose, or if he unconsciously drew your eyes to the bulge hidden behind his slacks.

"Yeah, I mean…" you shrugged, "I thought it could be hot? Like something that people would want to see?"

"Right," Logan hummed, reminded of the invisible audience, and reached for the key in the ignition.

Leaving your apartment building in the rearview mirror, Logan searched for a more secluded place to park. The windows in the back of the limousine were tinted, impossible to look into, but you didn't want to take the risk of getting caught. After finding an empty parking lot, backing up and occupying a more private space in the back corner, Logan guided you around the limousine with a hand resting gently over the small of your back. Climbing into the back with you, his broad form filled the space.

Inside, he'd turned on the lights, the colors slowly fading in and out and casting soft shadows across his features. The leather creaked as he sat down, his spread legs already inviting you to slot between. A fleeting feeling of nervousness tickled in your tummy, the reality of what you were about to do washing over you like a wave on a stormy ocean.

Logan watched you from his seat, a picture of sin in his suit, as he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and fished out his glasses. His jacket fit snugly over his wide shoulders and he'd undone the top buttons where you could glimpse curling chest hair. The way he looked at you through the glasses, eyes dark and curious, had a warmth of arousal starting to pool in the core of yourself.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, "I was thinking I could set my phone up here–" you pointed to the space between the leather seats and the window. "And then you could use your phone and film me?"

After a little bit of fiddling to get your phone to stay upright, you turned to Logan, your phone capturing your slow walk towards him. He sat with his legs spread wide, his large palms resting on either side of his thighs. When you reached for the hem of your shirt, his finger twitched, digging into the leather, and a toothy smile spread over your features.

Tossing your shirt you sunk to your knees and slotted between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you held his gaze as you sat pretty for him, fanning out the skirt you'd worn specifically for today. He reached for his phone and pressed record when you curled your hands behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, capturing your bare chest.

The air nipped at your exposed skin, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. Looking up at Logan, his eyes burned against your skin where he took in your breasts, his eyes glided over your bare skin for the first time and soothed out the bubbling nerves that had been brewing. When your eyes caught on the tent growing in his pants, you had to restrain yourself from surging forward, your mouth already watering at the thought of tasting him for the first time – of your wet dreams becoming a reality.

"S'pretty," he murmured, voice deep and guttural, soaked in arousal.

He cupped your cheek gently, the rough pad of his thumb skating over your skin bringing with it a calming safety. Your eyelashes fluttered as you tilted your head into his hand, desperate to feel more of the weathered skin of his hand against your body.

"Y'sure you want this, sweetheart?" he asked.

Opening your eyes, you held his gaze. "Yes, please," you nodded in his large palm, "It's the only thing I've thought about all day." And it was the truth.

"Shit, baby," he groaned in response, dragging his hand down your neck to rest heavy over the top of your breasts. "S'that so?"

Gathering your hands in your lap, you nodded slowly, your teeth caught on your bottom lip as his hand brushed over your right breast. "Thought of how you'd taste," you confessed, the phone in his hand forgotten as you focused entirely on Logan.

"Yeah?" he prompted. One knuckle brushed over your hardened nipples, pulling a quiet whimper from you– pleased he leaned back, "Take off my belt, then."

Bouncing on your knees, you leaned forward on his command, and pulled the leather belt from its loops. You did it slowly, tilting your head upwards to catch his eyes through the glasses. He helped you with the zipper, making you watch as he dragged it down.

With your eyes fixed on his hand you noticed three barely healed scars between every knuckle, and you remembered who Logan really was. The Wolverine. He caught you looking, and his hand tightened into a fist, tightening it for a beat before he relaxed it over his thigh. Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss over his knuckles, and his hand dug into his thigh.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, his voice strained.

In the depths of your chest you felt a pinch, a tiny stab in your heart that felt too real, too personal for what you were about to do. Willing it away, you leaned back on your ankles instead, your hands dipping into the waistband of his pants to pull down his slacks. Lifting his hips to help you ease them down, a quiet grunt escaped him, a deep sound that traveled down your spine and pooled in your core.

Behind the soft cotton of his underwear the firm hard line of his cock strained against the fabric. The sight of him, large and heavy, and hidden, had your eyes widening with lust, and a slickness soiling the gusset of your panties.

"You want my cock, don't you sweetheart?" he coaxed, his free hand finding your jaw where he cupped it, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Y-yes," you breathed out, your smile straining against his grip before you dropped your mouth open, showing him your tongue.

"There you go, baby– good girl," he praised, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and rubbing the saliva around. A soft moan caught in your throat at the praise, and behind the camera Logan's eyes darkened at his new discovery.

Wrapping both your hands around his wrist, you held his hand in place as you closed your lips around him. Slowly, you moved your head, up and down, up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on his thumb like you would his cock. Logan's eyes were intense behind his glasses, his jaw clenching tight while he stared into your own.

"Such a filthy little thing f'me– so desperate for my cock down your throat you'll suck anything, ain't that right?"

A choked moan escaped you; they way he talked to you adding fuel to the fire in your core. Between the seam of your cunt you ached, wet arousal dripping into your soiled panties. He must've watched the way you melted for him, your brain turning to mush in front of him, because when he pulled his hand away, he laughed. A deep guttural thing from the depth of his chest.

"C'mon little angel," he tapped at your cheek, "Let's put you out of your misery."

Clouded in arousal, your brain stalled at the nickname, and you felt a new gush of arousal spill between the seam of your cunt. Logan's nostrils flared and a wild darkness settled over his face.

Shifting on your knees, you leaned forward to palm him through his underwear. Making sure to flick your eyes up at him (and the camera), you dragged your finger up and down gently, seductively, before you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his clothed length. Above you, Logan sucked in a breath, his free hand coming down to pet your head and press your face firmly against his bulge.

You couldn't help but breathe him in. Breathe in the heady deep scent of man, cheap whiskey and cigars – the unique scent of Logan. When you let out the softest little sigh, you felt him twitch against you, and quickly his hand on your head traveled down to the back of your neck where he pulled you back with a harsh yank.

You yelped.

"No more teasin'–" he reprimanded and let go of you, "Be a good little angel and make me come."

Logan leaned back into the leather, his body relaxed and inviting with one hand still occupied with filming you. Watching the deep furrow forming between his brows, and the way his eyes burned your face through his glasses, you could tell he wanted to take control, make you do what he wanted.

With a curling smile, knowing full and well you had the upper hand with one of his hands occupied, you slipped your eager hands into the elastic waistband of his underwear and tugged.

A wild and wiry patch of graying hair met you first, and you felt a flock of eagerness flutter in your stomach. Tugging the fabric down slowly, you made a show of revealing just an inch at a time. When you finally reached the end of him, you felt the wet head of him graze your cheek, leaving a streak of precum, as it sprung free.

His hard cock bopped heavily in front your face, and you felt your eyes widen at his size. He was big. The hefty length of him cushioned against his balls hanging heavy over the band of his underwear. Reaching a shaky hand forward you took him in your hand for the first time and familiarized yourself with the thick weight of him. With your other hand you traced the thick veins that lined the girth of him, memorizing every ridge and freckle before coming up to thumb at the fat tip where a pearl of wetness beaded.

A mix of awe and uncertainty pooled in your chest. How in the hell were you gonna fit all of him down your throat?

"'s okay, angel," he cooed, his heavy hand back to stroke over your head. His touch soothed you, a rhythmic warmth that shed all your insecurities.

With a content sigh you leaned forward and parted your lips to press a soft kiss to the leaking tip, pulling a "There you go, good girl, open your mouth f'me," from Logan. Urged on by his praise, you got a little braver. Flattening your tongue against him you started with a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, your tongue dipping into the slit to taste him in earnest.

Above you, a groan rumbled in Logan's chest, a sound that had you eagerly taking more of him in your mouth. Suckling carefully on the fat tip, you let your tongue tease the underside of him, humming in content when you felt him harden even more in your hands.

Letting the excess spit run down the length of him, it pooled over your hands where they struggled to wrap around the thick girth. Slick sounds came from your hands when you started to move them over the soft skin, coating him fully in your saliva with every tug.

"Shit, bub, y'look so fuckin' good around my cock," Logan's voice vibrated from his chest, "But y'can take it deeper, can't you? Take that big cock down your throat?"

Well, you would certainly try.

Your knees dug into the carpeted floor of the limousine, pressing a deep pattern into your skin. Popping off his cock, you sat up a little more and shifted your weight. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were reminded of the camera pointed at you. Looking straight down the barrel of his phone you sunk down further on his cock.

Dropping your jaw, you felt your lips stretch as his hefty cock filled your throat. All too quickly the head of him kissed the back of your throat and you had to fight your gag reflex. Pulling off with a gasp, your eyes widened as you looked up at him.

"It's so big," you told him, both of your slicked hands jerking him in a slow rhythm.

"I know, angel," he cooed, his thumb running over your cheek. Leaning forward again, you placed a soft kiss to the fat head, and he hissed, "Too big f'you?"

"No," you shook your head, smearing the head from one corner of your mouth to the other, spreading the precum leaking onto your lips, and humming at the taste of him. "It's perfect– taste so perfect," you said through a pillowy kiss to the head.

With a buck of his hips, he pushed back into your eager mouth, slipping the fat head through your swollen lips and into your flexed throat, "That's it– right where it belongs, huh?"

Fitting him as deep as you could down your throat you felt dizzy with desire, an almost overwhelming feeling; the smell of him so close, how he filled your mouth and made your jaw ache. When your nose pressed into the grayed patch of wiry hair at the base of his cock, you spluttered with need, spit soaking the length of him as you came off him with a cough.

In an instance, Logan was on you, his free hand petting your cheek as he searched your eyes, "You okay?" I wouldn't be until after, when you edited the video that you'd realize he'd dropped the phone, focusing only on you in that moment.

"Yes," you replied, looking into his eyes with a toothy smile, "I want more– I want your cum."

"Fuck," he hissed, letting go of your cheek and leaning back into the leather seat, pointing his phone at you, "Go on."

Fitting him back down your throat again, you got lost in it as you found a rhythm. With a hand stationed at the base, you bobbed your head, letting your tongue dance over the length. More saliva dripped down and pooled over your hand, slicking up his pubes. It was messy, and hot, sticky and wet. Above you, Logan muttered praises between grunts and moans, encouraging you to take him deeper and deeper.

Feeling your throat loosen with every bob of your head, you pushed down and swallowed around him. Your eyelashes fluttered as you gagged and coughed, tears starting to prickle from your eyes, but you were determined to please him– to make him feel good.

When his hand came down to wrap around your throat, his thumb skating over your neck to feel himself, your eyes rolled back in your head in pleasure – the sight of you making Logan let out a deep growl. He kept the hand clasped around your throat as he started to buck his hips, feeding you his cock in small lazy thrusts.

"Right there, angel, so fuckin' good f'me… my good girl– choke on it," he mumbled.

You hummed around him at the praise, the vibrations pulling another deep moan from him. Fucking your face, bubbling spit trickled out the corner of your lips, soaking him and the coarse hair on his balls where they slapped heavy against your chin. Slipping a hand between your thighs, you couldn't help but touch yourself through your underwear – the white cotton translucent and drenched with your arousal.

Chasing his high, Logan's thrusts started to come quicker. More and more saliva overflowed, dripping down your bare chest and slicking you up in depravity. The grip Logan had around his phone was lazy, but he made sure to capture the way the shifting colors of the low limousine light gleamed over your slicked up chest.

"Such a good fuckin' throat–" he growled, squeezing around your throat as he pushed himself as deep as he could. Your nose brushed the wiry patch of his pubic hair, and you felt yourself start to gag around him as your lungs squeezed and throat tightened. He kept you down as you spluttered and swallowed around the length of him, and when the edges of the world started to blur he pulled you off with a jerk.

Gasping for air and filling your lungs with lost breaths, the hand Logan had wrapped around your neck was now pushing your own hand away to wrap around himself. The tears on your cheek mixed with the strings of saliva on your chin, as you looked up at him through fluttering lashes. Watching him stroke his cock, your eyes widened with interest as you shifted on your knees to sit up straighter.

His hard cock pulsated and throbbed with need as he stroked. Up and down you watched his hand; watched how beads of precum drooled over his fingers, mixing with your saliva before it dripped down onto your chest. A primal feeling came over you – an urge so strong to taste him come undone and claim you as his.

"Please," you begged, the fat head ghosting against your lips with every jerk, "come for me, please– wanna taste you so badly."

Logan's grunts and growls grew deeper and wilder as he stroked himself faster. "Look at me, angel," he ordered, and when your eyes locked with his, combined with a final hard stroke, he aimed the wet tip towards your face and came hard.

The first pump of his sticky warm seed, made you flinch before a smile widened and you leaned closer. Dropping your mouth open, he came all over your face, coating your cheeks, your nose, and forehead. Thumbing at the tip, he aimed at your waiting mouth to squeeze out the last few drops, and he finally let you taste him.

Wrapping your lips around the head, you suckled around him through content hums. You were covered in his cum, claimed, feeling the sticky seed drip down the bridge of your nose. You loved the way he tasted, salty and bitter, like Logan.

When the feeling of your tongue dancing over his sensitive head became too much, he pulled away with a hiss. His phone was still aimed at your face, and a little more clear-headed he filmed the aftermath of his orgasm closer.

"Even prettier with my cum on your face, angel," he said, letting his finger drag over your skin to collect his cum.

Pretty.

"Thank you," you whispered, your throat hoarse as he fed you his cum.

You hummed around his finger as he cleaned you up, making sure not a single drop would go to waste, and when he was pleased with his work after you'd shown him your empty tongue, he cupped your cheek.

"Good little angel," he told you with a pad, and pressed the stop button on his phone.

Back at your apartment the buzz of the excitement of the night lingered as you replayed the scene on your computer. You thought about Logan, about where he was and who might sit in the seat where you'd sucked him off only hours earlier. You thought about how filthy his mouth had been, and how much it had turned you on. And lastly, you thought about how you couldn't wait to see him again, and for him to finally fuck you.

Editing the video together, the last thing you did before you fell asleep was upload. Logan had taken a photo of your hand over his clothed cock before he'd left you, a picture that was now set as your profile picture. All tuckered out, you closed your computer and fell back against your pillows, dreaming of the smell of leather and cheap whiskey.

James & Angel ✨👼 📍 Texas subscribers: 15,478

1 post: "cute girl gives older limousine driver a sloppy blowjob"

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hopefully this was okay? i have concepts of a part 2 lol so please don't ask for it. instead, a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and/or tell me what you'd comment under james' & angel's first video! my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[nymphoniah]

god you are SO right about ddlg logan <3 i love him with all my heart and i know he would love being called daddy and taking care of his good little princess... <3

i’m glad you agree!! :3 and omg after reading this i just thought about something:

i can just imagine logan absolutely melting when you call him daddy for the first time. you swear it was accidental, just a little freudian slip!

content/warnings: moreso fluff but mentions of sex, ddlg/cgl, age gap (reader is in their 20’s)

you’ve been dating logan for a while, the two of you have acknowledged the significant age gap between both of you, but despite the taboo, it didn’t matter at all.

you had a place of your own, but sometimes you’d crash at logan’s. there was no particular reason for each stay—some days you’d want to feel the presence of someone else, as living alone was more lonely than you thought it would be. other days, you’d just want to be fucked senseless by logan so hard that you couldn’t walk the next morning.

on one of the days you decided to stay at his place, you forgot you had work the next day. you insisted on taking an uber so he didn’t have to roll out of bed earlier than usual, but being the stubborn guy he is, he decided to drive you to work.

“i don’t need to show up to work in a limo,” you’d say, playfully punching his shoulder. “that’s a bit too excessive for me,”

“thought you’d like to put on a show,” logan teases, “ a’least that’s what you did for me last night,” he adds cheekily, glancing over at you, flashing you a wink through the glasses that hung low on his nose bridge.

you roll your eyes at him and continue the playful banter, trying to pass the commute to your workplace. time always flies by when you’re with logan.

so when it’s time for you to finally go, you give him a peck on the cheek, something short and simple—besides, if it were anything more, you’d end up being late for work.

“i’ll see you later!” you chirped, swinging open the car door, one leg out, the other still in the leg space of the passenger seat. “hold on, one more—,”

and you lean in for another quick, chaste kiss, this time on the lips. a smirk creeps upon your face as you hop out the car, a little pep in your step as you peek your head in a final time.

“bye f’real. see you later, daddy!”

daddy..? you think to yourself, proceeding to shut the door rather harshly. pausing in your tracks, you register the words, the word that slipped from your mouth, unsure how to react.

your back is turned away from logan’s gaze, but you can feel his eyes on you. it’d be embarrassing to walk away like nothing, but even more so to acknowledge what had happened, what will happen.

so you continue to walk off, mouth agape, head down, watching your feet shuffle against the pavement as you walk to the front door of your workplace.

logan’s a little bit shocked at first—almost a tad bit guilty, but it riles him up in a way he can’t explain. he felt his cock twitch at the mere thought of you calling him daddy. your daddy.

and in a this situation? on a random, gloomy tuesday morning? it’s so over for him.

fuck. he thinks to himself, fidgeting by pushing up his glasses, readjusting himself in his seat, fixing the rear view mirror of the limo—grasping at anything to distract himself from you.

but it’s useless. his mind is only filled of thoughts of you. you. you. now he absolutely has to treat you like the princess that you are, needs to take care of you, treat you right.

because that’s what daddies guys like him do.

[pigeonmama]

THE 4TH WALL BREAK AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[frenchie-simone]

Physicality

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader

word count: 2.8k

tags/warnings: SMUT 18+, reader is some kind of wolf/dog-ish mutant but no tail/ears described, reader has hair, reader is in heat, unprotected piv, creampie, logan has a pain kink (duh)

a/n: y’all i wrote this because i sometimes do feel like a bitch in heat, so this is self-indulgent as it always is. a tiny bit rushed so it’s not the best but i think it’s alright. if i forgot tags or warnings lmk!!

Today marks the day that you've officially been a part of the X-Men for six months. Your first mission feels like an eternity ago, perhaps because you're so busy every day, no day quite like the previous one. Being an X-Man means two things to you: dangerous missions and physics classes.

Oh, and of course, the massive crush you have on Logan. He doesn't know, how could he, when you cover up your feelings with snarky comments and distant behaviour? Logan doesn’t question why your anger seems to be directed at him the most, he just thinks you hate him more than you hate the average person. It’s partly true, you hate him for the way he makes you feel. More than that, you hate the fact that it's a full moon tonight.

It's after school hours, and you're preparing yourself for spending the night in the forest. You grade the physics homework, take a shower, change to more comfortable clothes and eventually sneak out of your room, trying to avoid anyone asking questions. It’s evening and the sun is setting early, so you decide it safer to leave the mansion now, just in case.

You greet students downstairs, and thankfully no one decides to chat more than that. You make it out to the courtyard without anyone interrupting you. You hop the fence and head towards the entrance to the forest, but your heightened senses pick up a familiar musky smell. You stop in your tracks and mutter a “fuck” under your breath before turning around. To no one’s surprise, you find Logan trying to follow you. He widens his eyes, but quickly regains his composure, his usual smirk creeping on his face. His gorgeous face…

“Were you following me?” you ask and cross your arms, glaring at Logan. He huffs a laugh and props a hand on his hip.

“Yeah. Was curious as to where you're sneaking out on a Tuesday” he says casually and raises an expectant brow, waiting for an explanation. You clench your jaw and look away, trying to figure out a plausible excuse.

“It’s a full moon tonight. I just wanted to watch the sky. In peace” you emphasize the last word. It’s getting darker by the second, and the minute the sun leaves the horizon, it's too late. Logan can't be near you tonight. You already feel the heat simmering on your skin despite the cool breeze.

Logan scrunches his eyebrows and looks at you, unconvinced. And yet, he only exhales and nods. “Alright, sweetheart. Just try not to get mauled by wolves, will ya?” he says with a smirk. If only he knew you were the wolf to look out for. You roll your eyes at him and mutter some curses under your breath before turning around and walking deeper into the woods.

It’s midnight and the sun has set. You're located deep in the forest, far from other people. The heat is getting to you now. Your muscles are twitching, your core is aching and it feels like your blood is boiling. You sit down and lean against a tree trunk, not caring about the dirt ruining your clothes, panting and trying to calm yourself down. You know that pleasuring yourself won't fix it, but it'll at least bring temporary relief. You slide your hand down your pants and under your panties and start massaging your clit. Pictures of Logan pop into your mind; images of him shirtless, sweaty, just after a workout… you can't help but imagine what he would look like on top of you. Or under. Or from the side.

“Logan…” you can't help but moan his name at the thought. Even imagining him is bringing you close to finishing. You move your fingers from your bud and curl them inside you, inside your already soaking pussy, and press your palm down on your bundle of nerves. You add another finger and start pumping slowly at first, but you lose your cool almost immediately. Your pace quickly becomes fast and hard, and with Logan's face and body plastered on the wall of your mind, you release on your fingers in record time. You mutter a "fuck" at how quickly you came because the ache comes back almost as fast as you finished. You lean your head against the tree and groan in annoyance, before bringing your fingers into your mouth to clean them. It hurts so much, it throbs and aches, so you bury your head in your knees and try to distract yourself from the pain that you can't fix yourself. You try to think about your next physics lesson, upcoming missions, and what you'll do on the weekend... and for a while, it works. Until you hear a twig crack and snap your head towards the sound.

You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you hadn't smelled Logan approaching. Now he's appearing through the trees, searching for you. And that musky, earthy scent of him is even stronger to you in your current state, and your nose twitches involuntarily. He sees you crouched on the ground, dishevelled and seemingly exhausted, and he quickly rushes to you. Worry etches his face as he kneels before you and places a hand on your knee. "Sweetheart, what happened? Are you alright?" he asks, searching your body for cuts or bruises. You swallow and look down at his large hand touching you.

"I'm fine, but you really shouldn't be here" you try to tell him, your voice shaky. He furrows his brows and gently strokes your knee, the worry still there. "Don't lie to me, Wolves. What's up?" he pushes, not listening to your dismissals anymore. You lightly shudder under his touch and your breath quickens. You try to calm yourself, but it's no use. "Logan, I'm serious. This is something I gotta deal with alone" you manage to say between shallow breaths. His hand stops stroking and slightly tightens its grip on you. "I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's going on" he says with a stern voice. You can tell he means it. You swallow your pride and just decide to give him the truth.

"I'm in heat. You know, like an animal…" you mutter and look down, embarrassed to admit it. When he doesn't answer you, you carefully glance up. His eyes have gone wide and you hear him take a shaky breath. Oh fuck, did you make him uncomfortable? You turn your head to the side to avoid his face and you feel shame creeping on your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay... I was just taken by surprise, I had no idea..." he explains after seeing you turn your head away. You turn your gaze towards him again, and he doesn't appear disgusted or uncomfortable, just a little... nervous. Logan takes a deep breath before speaking again: "Do you..." he clears his throat, "want me to help you?"

Your mouth falls agape at his words and your eyes widen. He can't mean what you think he is, right?

"How?" you ask him, eyes still blown wide. He rubs the back of his neck, unsure how to phrase it. "You know... take care of you," he says and looks at you, anxiously waiting for your reaction. You didn't think he'd actually suggest it, but now that he did, your body goes hot all over. You try to play cool even as you hear your heartbeat in your ears. "I couldn't possibly make you do that, Logan. It doesn't feel right" you answer with your remaining sensibility, but your urges and instincts strongly disagree. You look down at your knees, trying to hide the pleading in your eyes. Logan only scooches closer to you and takes your chin in his hand and tilts your head towards him.

"You're not making me, Wolves. I want to help you, wanna make you feel good. C'mon, let me take care of you" he assures you and holds eye contact, wanting to show you he means it. His words, his closeness, his tenderness... it's too much to refuse. You can't control your urges anymore.

You bite down on your lip to keep in any pathetic whines, but the way he looks at you is like an invitation to pounce on him. Before you can register what you're doing, you're pressing your lips to his. You only get a taste before you realize what you're doing and quickly pull away. "Shit. I'm sorry" you mutter and move away. You see his jaw clench, and you think you’ve upset him. The thought makes your heart drop.

Until he grabs your neck and smashes his lips on yours. You whimper at the sudden movement, but you quickly kiss him back. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. He groans against your mouth, before his tongue runs along your lower lip, asking for permission to enter. You part your lips instinctively and he doesn't waste a second shoving his tongue in your mouth. Your own tongue quickly joins in, until you're both devouring each other with such passion and hunger that it makes your head spin and core overheat. Logan sits down on the ground without parting his lips from yours and pulls you down with him, and you adjust your thighs to straddle him.

Neither Logan nor you thought this was how your first time would go, but neither of you could foresee this. All your sensibility, rationality and critical thinking were thrown out the window, and all you can think about is his large, muscular, perfect body under yours. In the heat of the moment, you start subconsciously grinding your core against his already stonehard length. His hands fly on your hips to guide you, and he groans against your mouth at the friction. You pull away only to catch your breath, still rocking against him, and your hands go to lace themselves in his brown hair. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, panting against his skin, but the need for more becomes too strong.

“Please, Logan… I need you inside me” you practically whine, teeth sinking into his neck in an attempt to muffle your pathetic whines and mewls. Logan groans at the sting of your teeth in his neck, and if you’d see his face, you’d notice his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Mmh, you’ll get what you need, sweet girl. I’ll take good care of you” Logan coos into your ear, lifting you up and placing you to lie back on the ground. He’d like to take his time, draw out your pleasure, but Logan can sense the urgency of your situation. You start quickly unbuttoning your pants, needing to get him inside before the painful throbbing of your pussy becomes too much to bear. Logan complies, starting to unbuckle his belt, although he’d very much like to see you naked, to see that skin he’s been dreaming about ever since he laid eyes on you. Another time, he thinks to himself.

You pull your pants off hastily, while your eyes are fixed on Logan’s bulge still hidden beneath the fabric. When you’re in just your panties, you start helping him, or at least you try to, but you’re just fumbling with the zipper because of the hurry you’re in. Logan can’t help but smirk to himself, but he makes no comment, knowing you’re more than just desperate. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers, freeing has impressive and extremely hard length, the tip already leaking pre-cum. Your eyes widen at the sight, and you feel your walls clench around nothing. You’d like nothing more than to run your tongue over his prominent vein, or take his cock down your throat. That’ll have to wait for another time.

You pull Logan closer by hooking your legs around his waist, and he falls forward with a grunt, but quickly steadies himself on his forearms. You don’t even take off your drenched panties, you just pull them to the side, waiting for him to give you exactly what you want and need.

“You sure you want this, darlin’?” Logan asks you, giving you one more chance to change your name. You quickly nod your head, grabbing ahold of his dick and guiding it to your entrance.

“Words, baby” Logan tsks at you, wanting verbal confirmation. You mentally groan, feeling like if you opened your mouth you won’t be able to shut it. “Yes, fuck, I want it. Need you” you pathetically beg, still trying to pull him closer.

Logan straight up growls as he finally caves, despite that nagging feeling in the back of his head telling him this is wrong. That he’s taking advantage of a poor bitch in heat. He quickly realises the guilt is not enough to stop him. In one hard thrust, Logan sheathes himself inside you, and you gasp at the sudden but very welcome intrusion. He’s already panting heavily, trying to take it slow, as to not hurt you. Too bad you’re not having it.

“Please move, Logan…” you whine, trying to rock into his shaft. Logan’s large palm quickly moves to pin your hip down, and before you can protest, he pulls out almost all the way, before slamming into you. You cry out in pleasure, your hands flying up to claw at his shoulders. Logan buries his face in your neck, as he repeats the motions, going slow but incredibly deep inside you, you can feel him in your tummy. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, he can’t help but groan, trying to muffle his noises against your skin. He moves his arms to wrap underneath you as he now picks up his pace, unable to go slow when it comes to you. You moan at the increased speed, your sharp nails scratching down his arms, and to your surprise, he lets out a moan at the sting.

“Fuck, baby… gonna come before you if you keep that up” Logan grunts, but makes no effort to slow down. You start trying to meet his thrusts with your hips, but Logan is not having it. He holds you tighter, fucking you down on his cock. He frees one hand from underneath you, moving it between your bodies to rapidly draw circles your swollen clit. You whine at the added sensation, your back arching off the ground.

“I’m gonna- fuck!” you cry out, unable to finish your sentence as your orgasm suddenly crashes down on you with a brutal force. Your nerve endings are lit on fire, but in the best way, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you’re struggling to stay grounded. Logan holds you through it, just whispering sweet nothings to you:

“That’s it, baby. I’ve gotcha.”

“Did so good for me…”

Logan helps brings you down from the high, and for the first time in days, that seemingly insatiable hunger that had been residing in the pit of your stomach is gone. But not for long.

“Logan, I want you to cum in me, please…” you whine, your weak thighs shaking as you try to pin him to your pussy. Logan groans, knowing he really shouldn’t. It’s reckless, irresponsible, but how can he refuse you when you’re being so pathetic and needy for him to fill you up?

Logan lifts you up from the ground with effortlessly, making you straddle his thighs. He holds you down on his cock as he starts thrusting up into you, now just chasing his own release. You whimper as he pierces you on his dick, but you take it, more than willingly. It doesn’t take long, until he’s coming with a strained groan, holding you down on him, his grip so tight it’ll bruise. You feel his warm spend coat your inner walls, filling you up to the brim as he pumps himself empty. You let out an almost obscene moan as you cum on his cock again, the remnants or your previous orgasm not having faded.

“Fuck, Wolves… I shouldn’t have done that” Logan murmurs into your ear but with a slight grin betraying his words, and you can only giggle in response. There was no regret in either of you, you’ll worry about plan B tomorrow. If you remember…

You sit on his lap for a few moments, letting him catch his breath. For only a split second, you’re aware of the fact that you’re in the middle of a forest, both of your clothes covered in dirt, and you’re pretty sure you feel a leaf in your hair. When you feel him soften in you, you look up from his neck, admiring his face for a second. Your lips curl into a small smile.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. fluffy, happy ending, unprotected sex, soft sex, lots of smut, feelings, breeding kink, marriage. etc.

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia 🤍

“I do” you nod softly biting your lower lip, your sclera black eyes welling up with tears as you stand in front of your soon to be husband hands joined fingers tangled, the shimmery gold wedding rings touching.

“I do” Logan nodded too, itching fingers to raise your weil up to finally kiss his bride. God his heart was nearly jumping out of his chest and when the priest said that he may kiss his wife Logan didn’t waste a second. Uncovering your face he pulled you in his arms and covered your mouth in sweet kisses. Indulging into his warm embrace and his mouth you mewled at the taste of his tongue. Clutching your hands on his white button up your mouths melt.

“Ah..” you sob softly, opening your eyes. Raising your hand to look at your engagement ring, it shimmered even though it was pitch black in the room because of your dark curtains the lights from outside peeked in. Chest heaving up and down blinking away tears. You have been trying to make a baby for the last few weeks. For two months to be exact, but you weren’t lucky to catch on. Touching your lower belly you struggled with your emotions, hearing a noice in the living room you guessed that Logan was still awake doing paperwork. You have been financially stable, and living in peace. The life alone with him was so blissful and you experienced a true home. You worked with children full time, and you couldn’t stop wanting your own. Logan loved the idea of being a father and having his own running around so you both agreed to try and make a baby.

“Princess..” walking in the room wearing one of his white undershirt, pair of pants but the belt left open. Your tears didn’t stop as you lied there holding your lower belly even though he was now sitting next to you cupping your cheek wiping away your new tears. Soon you were about to marry him, he asked you to be his wife only few days ago. Small part of you struggled to accept that what if you were not able to carry children even though you had everything what you woman needed. “I’m sorry” a broken whimper escaped your lips. “Why are you sorry baby?” Logan spoke softly leaning down to kiss your forehead slowly dragging his lips to your cheek kissing away your tears. “Maybe I’m not a real woman.. I’m not real” you sobbed. Maybe it was pathetic, but god you felt so much like a failure.

“You are real for me” Logan kissed your shoulder resting his cheek against your own slowly inhaling her scent. You smelled like coconuts and sweet flowers, he closed his eyes dragging his nose to your collarbone and between your breasts. You pulled him closer fumbling with his belt and pants opening them “Show me..” you breathed desperate to pull his cock out. He groaned hungrily, getting rid of your sleeping shorts and your panties. Your pussy glistened with your slick, moans flowed out of your lips when he rubbed the head of his swollen cock between your folds. Hands coming up to his cheeks you flipped him over so you were on top. He groaned hiking up your tank top above your breasts watching them spring free god they were so round and perky. He loved every part of you-

Licking your fingers to moisten his cock even more before you happily sank on it. He let out a soft whimper seizing your hips with his hands trying to piston his hips up into you but you were too determined to love your man tonight. You wanted him so much- “Ugh baby..” you moaned clenching your mound around his cock his lips were left parted in pleasure when your small hands located his pecks. You began to move back and forth gyrating your warm core around his length making him melt under you. “Mommy and Daddy.. we can do it together” you let out little squeaks of pleasure as he ran his big palms on your sides lovingly caressing you. His breath hitched when you rocked your hips even faster “Fuck yes..” he grunted voice dripping with need and lust. Lips agape eyes shimmering with nothing but love as you picked up the speed of your hips riding him faster moaning softly. Logan couldn’t keep it down himself, he moaned for you as breath hitched in his throat. Feeling him in your soul your body shivered in pleasure “Daddy” you mewled bouncing on his cock quicker. Logan’s thumb slid in your mouth and you sucked on it his other hand eagerly squeezed and fondled your breasts twirling your nipples. “F-fuckkk..” he let out a breathy groan watching you bounce on his cock he held your thighs in his large palms struggling to keep going it felt so good his body began to surge with more pleasure. Cock throbbing and swelling in you, you cried out laying back down on his chest as you kissed. His tongue immediately claimed your own and he flipped you over moving both of his arms around your tiny body pistoning his hips into you thrusting in your sopping wet core. You clenched around him milking him for all and you moaned into your mouths in unison. Tongues swirling together your hands scratching down his back as pleasure bolted through your spine arching your back hitting your hips upwards welcoming his thrusts until you both found your highs. Even through your orgasms you moaned into each other’s mouths holding each other. Your legs and arms remained around him. Gazing at the ceiling Logan rested his face on your naked chest you hummed in post haze euphoria “I love you so much..” he sighed in satisfaction sleepily “me too bub, i love you to pieces”

two weeks passed— you got married. The ceremony was private and between you and Logan only and you couldn’t be happier. You didn’t need much in your life just him— just your person and your soulmate, but you tested negative for pregnancy again. Tears forming in your eyes holding your belly. “Nothing?” Logan wrapped his arms around you from behind and you sighed closing your eyes caressing his forearms looking at the negative pregnancy test on the sink. Your wedding rings shimmered under the light as your fingers touched “We will get lucky.. you gonna carry my little wolves soon” he kissed your cheek a soft smile on his lips burying his face in your hair. Heart skipped a beat at the thought of the moment you’d find out eventually that you’re carrying his baby wolves like he loved to call them.

“dinner in twenty..” you whispered kissing his knuckles before slipping out of his arms walking to the kitchen. Thunderstorm spread across the sky and you hummed switching on the flat screen. News were on, thinking Logan would come to the kitchen to take a beer and relax by the tv but instead of doing so he was right behind you distracting you kissing the back of your neck telling you how much he loved you. You couldn’t hide your smile anymore, your cheeks blushed as he touched and caressed every part of you possible undoing your apron just to kneel down sliding your shorts and panties down your thighs. You stepped out of them eagerly switching off the stove. Turning you around your husband’s mouth was on yours latching hard and passionately kissing you. Moaning into his lips fumbling with his belt and jeans unzipping them Logan was already hoisting you in his arms pressing you against the wall. You cried out against his lips as he impaled you on his cock. “Need to fill my wife with all of me all night..” you whimpered locking your arms around his neck as he held your hips moving you back and forth on his cock slowly starting to thrust at the same time causing your heart shake in your chest eyes closing lips parting as you moaned loudly. His face found home in the valley of your breasts breathing harshly snapping hips into you gripping your thighs in his hands making sure they are parted for him and god you shook in his arms “darling.. ughhhh!! Ugh!” You cried clinging to him as if your heart depended on it and Logan growled his claws shooting out smashing into the wall behind you. You gasped looking at him your noses touching smiling the way his hips never stopped pounding into you “fuck fuck fuck…!” your head tipped back as you bounced up and down quicker and quicker your back sliding up and down against the wall your core clenched around his length. “mmm” running your hands down his back your thighs rocked against his sides the more he snapped his hips into you. “love my little wife’s mess on my cock, can’t wait to fill you with my wolves” he smiled against your lips and you giggled kissing him letting him hold you against the wall and repeatedly pound you until you couldn’t breathe and you were drenching his cock in your sweet release. Your body shook as you coated his length in your orgasm and soon he shoved himself deeply in you giving you another of his precious loads cumming deeply in you nestling himself right against your womb making sure it’s filled with his cum. “baby” you mewled, licking his lower lip and he hugged you close. “You have a wall to repair..” chuckling Logan smirked against your breasts “Can’t help it darling you feel so good” he spend another moment being inside of you and you both couldn’t stop kissing and tasting each others mouth —

“Just one more sweetheart.. c’on show daddy how much you love his tongue” he breathed as heat pooled in your core after not even remembering precisely— how many orgasms did your body endure underneath your husbands. You’ve read in books that newlyweds were always glued to each other and wanting one another so badly. “Please please” you whimpered rocking your mound against your husbands mouth as he teased your clit with his tongue and from the sweet overstimulation you couldn’t take it but cum once again. “Atta girl” he smiled kissing his way up to your breasts sinking back inside of you. Your moans echoed in the bedroom as soon as your hips clashed against one another and you both reached heaven. Passing out in your husbands arms, waking up in his arms— you couldn’t be happier. Heat radiating from his body as the first ray of sunshine peeked through your dark curtains the city becoming alive once again, the holographic advertisements showed something new everyday and you couldn’t stop your curiosity. New robots were made, were they like you? Overtime just coming to life? Or were you just the only one special? Logan stirred awake and he peppered your naked chest in soft kisses “Mornin kitten” you immediately blushed rolling on top of him hugging him tightly.

“Goodbye Blake!” You smiled at one of your little children leaving the day care. Waving him goodbye you gathered the colouring pencils off the floor when you felt the sensation in your stomach. It was a heavy feeling and it travelled upwards. Giving the pencils to your colleague you rushed to the bathrooms, and there it was. Your very first time being sick, like a normal human being. A friend of yours came in to check on you and god you felt so nauseous. Lightheaded. That you almost fainted. And it happened at home too, maybe it was time for you to tell your doctor that you feel unbelievably unwell.

After Logan left for work, you dressed and left your apartment. Of course you didn’t tell him because he’d worry so much about you and you didn’t want to stress him. Maybe parts of you were dying out.. maybe you had blood poisoning. Or worse..

Sitting in the consulting room you spoke to your doctor about your symptoms and she smiled. “Have you been active with your husband, Mrs Howlett?” You nodded immediately “Well of course we love each other” you admitted nervously rubbing your palms together. “Let’s do a little check up shall we?” She guided you to lay back and place your legs on the holders so she can sit between your thighs and look you over. She smiled peeking up at you as you lied there nervous “Am I broken doctor?” You couldn’t help it. You didn’t know how woman’s body worked. “Have you had your cycle this month?” You furrowed your eyebrows together shaking your head telling her a ‘no’

“Well.. your cervix is perfectly sealed, you’re expecting” she smiled at you and abruptly sat up. “What?!” She removed her gloves nodding. “If this is your first please don’t be nervous babies are a miracle. I’m sure your husband will love the news” and there it was. You broke down crying— emotions all over the place and tears rolled down your cheeks. “You don’t understand.. we have been wanting this baby for a long time.. and I thought I’m not lucky enough to be real.. but I’m real” you sobbed taking the tissue from the doctor as she listened to you. “Marriage is beautiful—my dear, this baby is a blessing” she rubbed your back to comfort you and you smiled wiping away your tears.

As you walked home caressing your belly with both of your hands you couldn’t stop smiling. You couldn’t wait to tell Logan that you were carrying one of his precious little wolves and maybe more than one maybe two.

You wanted to wait until dinner to tell him, your heart was beating so fast every time you looked at him while he did some paperwork by the table. Approaching him you sneaked on his lap straddling him wrapping your legs and arms around him clinging to him. He smiled hugging you back pen between his lips reading specs on the bridge of his nose as he read through his paperwork. As silent as you were so was your crying, you were so happy. Soaking his white shirt in your tears you kissing his neck and his ear “I’m pregnant” you breathed and the pen from between his lips fell out. “What?” You nodded slowly kissing his shoulder “I’m pregnant.. and I’m so happy” you hugged him but his arms tightened around you seeking your lips. You kissed him softly meeting his gaze and you felt like your heart could jump out of your chest —

“I am real for you..”

-

𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒕. 🤍

[embbarnes]

Filthy Logan thoughts. 18+ MDNI I'm totally not buying time to finish this long ass fic I'm working on lmaooo um warnings for nsfw themes and swearing.

Logan would go fucking CRAZY eating you out.

Can you imagine that goddamn tongue lapping you? He's like a starved man, his rough hands holding your plush thighs open as he dives right in. He sucks and flicks and teases that pretty little clit, talking you through his ministrations as you squirm below him. "Such a sloppy pussy, my fuckin' cunt, hear me, pretty girl?" he growls at you, his fingers finding their way inside you as he sucks your clit harder to hear you cry out.

Or if you have male genitalia, he'd tease the hell out of you. His hard palms kneading your balls and stroking you to full mast while his thumb rolls over your head, spreading all your beaded precum everywhere. "You want me to suck don't you? Filthy boy...you'd love it if I took you in my mouth huh? Think it would be hot?" he grins as you continue to squirm under him, begging him for more.

He adores your scent too, regardless of what you have, this feral man will tear the blankets off you and shove his face between your thighs, inhaling your delicious scent. He sits there and smells you for minutes on end, groaning against your skin. "Fuckin' delicious, baby...m'gonna fuck you good this mornin'...it's a good way to start your day. Just lay there and let me take you, be a good girl for me."

His hands massage your ass and spread you open, eyeing your ass with a chuckle. "One day I'm gonna take you here, babygirl...m'gonna make you scream while my dick claims your ass." He teases you about taking your ass, only if he had a suspicion that you'd be interested in doing it, whether it be then or later on. If you're into it, he'd continue and talk about how he would stretch you out, how he would make you scream on his cock. "Tight hole, look at you...this thing is gonna be stretched out on me. I can't wait to feel you clenching my dick, pup."

Literally just him biting you all over while he's completely destroying you from behind. You are crying out loudly as he stretches you, thrusting hard enough that you swear your pelvis is gonna shatter (he has enough self control). His teeth bite your neck and he sucks so many dark marks you can't hide them no matter what. Don't you dare try to put a turtleneck on, those claws will come out and he will turn it into a v-neck.

Cigar WHILE he fucks you?? Holy shit. It hangs from his teeth as he smacks your ass red and fucks you literally into the mattress, your screams of pleasure being muffled by the pillows. Luckily your wall neighbor doesn't seem to mind listening to you crying out Logan's name with each orgasm that racks through your body. Which is...a lot with Logan. Duh.

Haaa okay that's enough byeeee ~

[justanescapism]

Reblogging to my new account

Being pregnant with Wolverine/Logan's child would include...

Initial reaction - He would be terrified and it would take a bit of time to come to terms with it. It is an accidental pregnancy, so neither of you were planning on it. He didn't even know if you could get pregnant. But when he does come round, he would be still scared but excited.

Protective - Logan would be extremely protective, to the point that you would have to argue with him just to leave home. He's scared that someone will harm or kidnap you so even when you do go out, he is always with you.

Missions - He would put a hold on all missions, unless, some of the other x-men help out and keep an eye on you. Even then though, he would only go on short missions.

Affection - Logan is incredibly affectionate, constantly touching you, whether that be a hand on your back or round your shoulder. He just likes to know that you're there with him, and you like knowing how much he cares.

Talking - He would talk to your belly all the time. Just had dinner? He'd tell the baby. Watched a good movie? The baby gets a review. You'd act like it would annoy you, but really it would make you really happy.

Note: that gif doing something to me

[1800-fight-me]

Bloom

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, violence, injury, some angst but this is mostly fluff Word count: About 3.5k Synopsis: Your mutant power of making plants grow and flowers bloom coincidentally manifests more with Logan's presence, it has nothing to do with his ability to make you laugh and bring you comfort. Author’s note: This isn't my favorite thing I've written, but it's silly and fun and inspired by my recent rewatch of The Office- I wanted to write a more lighthearted version of Logan so here you go - I hope y'all enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

“Logan,” you whispered. 

He snapped his head in your direction from across the room, his enhanced hearing enabling him to hear you despite your extremely quiet tone. 

He raised an eyebrow at you from where he hid behind the door and you did your best to hold in your giggle. 

The flowers on the desk bloomed due to your excitement. 

You were crouched behind Scott’s desk as you waited for his early morning arrival to his office. 

The entire room was covered with all of the worst pictures the two of you could find of Scott- the walls, the desk, the door, every square inch of the room was pasted with shitty quality black -and-white copier photos. 

“How long do you think we have to wait?” you asked and he shushed you with a wink. 

Only moments later, Scott walked through the doorway and flicked the light on. 

“What the hell,” Scott mumbled with an exasperated sigh. 

You couldn’t contain your giggle at this point, especially when Logan wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Come out, idiots,” Scott said with a groan. 

Logan laughed uproariously, the sound coming from deep in his chest and your giggle turned into a cackle as you stood from behind the desk and Logan stepped out from behind the door. 

“This is ridiculous! Of all the asinine things the two of you have done-“

“Run,” you gasped through laughter as you grabbed Logan’s hand and darted past Scott in an attempt to escape his ridiculous lecture on the seriousness of your roles as professors and X-Men. 

You ran until you could no longer hear Scott yelling and ended up near the front door of the mansion. 

Logan’s hand slipped from yours but before you could mourn the loss, both hands were on your shoulders as he leaned down closer to you as you both laughed. 

“That was perfect, petal,” he said -calling you your X-Man nickname-  with a smile that took your breath away. 

You grinned up at him, “I think it was our best prank so far.” 

“All from that brilliant mind of yours,” he said. 

“What is this? What the hell is going on?” an angry voice echoed through the foyer. 

Logan’s hands slipped from your shoulders and your smile fell as you looked over to see your boyfriend. So wrapped up in Logan, you hadn’t even heard or noticed the front door open and someone walk in. 

“You trying to make a move on my girl?” Mark snapped. 

“No,” Logan said, his amusement gone and his eyes hard. 

“No, no,” you interjected, “it was just office pranks okay, we played a prank on Scott,” you said as you stepped towards Mark, putting yourself as a barrier between him and Logan in an attempt to prevent any escalation considering they both have short fuses. 

“Just office pranks,” Logan echoed. 

Mark glared over your shoulder at Logan and you did have to commend him for the courage it took to look at the Wolverine that way. 

“Nothing is going on, that’s insane,” you said firmly as you pressed your hand against Mark’s chest. 

His eyes finally cut to yours and he let you guide him to step backwards and out the front door. 

The leaves on the bushes in front of the house began to wilt in response to your frustration. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a too firm kiss to your lips, as if he were making a point. You pulled back and looked behind you to see Logan’s back as he walked away. Something in your heart twisted. 

You firmly shut the door behind you. 

“Hey, what brings you here so early?” you asked. 

“I missed you,” he said as he pressed another kiss to your lips, this time lingering, clear innuendo in his words and actions. 

You pulled back. “I have a class to teach in twenty minutes,” you said. 

“So? That gives us plenty of time…” he murmured as his hands drifted down to your ass. 

You pushed on his chest again and took a step back from him.  

“Mark!,” you protested. “One of the children could see us out here.” 

“So?”

“So?”, you echoed back in an irritated tone. “It’s inappropriate. This is my job. And you came here for what- an early morning quickie? After you didn’t even call me back last night?” 

“I was trying to make it up to you,” he said as he placed his hands on your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You sighed. 

“Let me make it up to you,” he pleaded as his fingers danced at your waist. 

You let out a breathless laugh and said, “Fine- tonight you can make it up to me.” 

He pressed another smacking kiss to your lips before bidding you goodbye. 

You turned back towards the mansion and your face burned with embarrassment as you saw Logan through the window. 

His facial expression was hard and you gulped as you again watched his broad back as he turned and walked away from you. 

Your giddy mood from this morning plummeted as you trudged towards your classroom. 

—--------------

You cherished your friendship with Logan but your boyfriend’s frustration and distrust towards him irritated you. It wasn’t like Mark hadn’t also given you reasons to question his loyalty. 

You had started dating Mark only a few weeks after moving into town and into the X-Mansion as a new X-Man and professor at the school almost five months ago. 

You had, of course, initially had a little crush on Logan- but when it seemed he had a thing for Jean, despite her being in a relationship with Scott, you decided to avoid all the drama and look outside your workplace for romance. Mainly, at the local bar. 

The crush was long gone and Logan had become a great friend- one of your favorite pastimes was playing pranks on Scott with him. To be fair, Scott had a tendency to be really annoying and deserved it. It started with you laughing at every dig Logan made towards Scott, his sense of humor matched your own and it wasn’t long before the pranks began.

So yeah, it was just friendship you continued to convince yourself, and it didn’t matter that Logan saw your boyfriend kiss you. You ignored the small hurt in your heart. 

It didn’t matter, you convinced yourself and walked towards your classroom to start your workday. 

As you walked in, petals began to fall off the vase of roses on your desk that Mark had given you a week ago. 

A week passed and your next prank on Scott wasn’t quite as clever. You used your powers to subtly grow the grass around Scott’s shoes where he stood so he tripped when he tried to take a step forward. 

It was juvenile, but worth it when you saw Logan’s smirk. Logan walked past you with a quick pat on your back and it eased the awkwardness of the past week as you smiled at him. 

—-

“Princess Petal,” Logan said in a teasing tone as he sat down on the couch next to you. 

You rolled your eyes at the ridiculous nickname but didn’t have anything in you to come up with a retort. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head, worried about speaking. Certain as soon as you open your mouth the tears will come. 

“Look at me,” he murmured as he put a finger under your chin and turned your face towards him. 

At the look of concern in his pretty hazel eyes you couldn’t help it, you started to cry. 

He immediately pulled you closer, you hid your face in his chest. 

He whispered words of reassurance as he rubbed his large hand up and down your back. 

You relaxed into his embrace, comforted by the warmth of him. 

“Tell me?” he asked gently. 

“Mark and I got into a fight. He wants me to move in with him and I don’t know if I’m ready. He said he doesn’t trust me living here,” you said, your voice thick with tears. 

“What the hell does that mean- he doesn’t trust you?” he asked gruffly. 

You just shook your head, feeling too uncomfortable to explain. Logan was the reason for all your fights with Mark these days, but you wouldn’t tell him that. 

You could tell he wanted to press you for more, to say more, but instead he just said, “You’ll work it out. You always do.” 

The succulent on the coffee table before the two of you shriveled up and died. 

You sighed. 

“Yeah,” you agreed as you wiped your tears. And that was that. 

You let Logan support and reassure you, and your relationship with Mark continued to trudge along despite your resolve that you were not going to move out of the mansion.  

———

“Petal, you and Wolverine clear out the right side of the Warehouse, Storm and I will clear the left, and meet back here once we’re done,” Cyclops ordered. 

You nodded and walked off with Logan, doing as you were bid. 

The mission went perfect, until the very end. 

The warehouse was cleared of combatants, the young mutants safe and secured, you and Logan made your way back to the jet to meet the rest of the team and head home. 

“I’m just saying,” you laughed. 

“No fuckin’ way,” Logan chuckled. 

You loved it when you made him laugh, you thought it might be your favorite sound in the whole world. 

You looked over at him, and saw him looking at you with such fondness in his gaze that your breath caught. 

When the gunshot sounded, it was too late for you to react. 

Logan yelled your name and attempted to throw himself in front of you, but was too slow. 

Sharp intense pain overwhelmed you as the bullet tore through your stomach. 

“Logan,” you gasped as you fell to the ground. You heard his guttural yell as his claws tore through your assailant. 

After only a few moments, he was kneeling at your side. 

“Help!” he screamed as his hand covered your belly in an attempt to staunch the bleeding as he pulled you onto his lap. 

“Don’t leave me, baby. You’re okay, you’re going to be okay. I’m so sorry, baby. Just hold on, help is coming- just hold on,” he desperately pleaded. 

You placed a hand on the side of his face and then the whole world went dark. 

——

When you woke there was the sort of beeping you only hear in hospitals. 

You groaned as you cracked your eyes open and the bright lights blinded you. 

A gentle hand was placed on the side of your face and turned your head to meet gorgeous hazel eyes filled with care. He sat in a chair beside the bed, as close as he could to you. 

“Lo,” you breathed out. 

The soft upturn of his lips filled your whole body with warmth- made you forget about the pain completely. 

“How’re you feeling, princess petal?” he asked. 

You smiled, “Like shit.” 

He chuckled quietly. 

His thumb rubbed along your cheekbone and your eyes fluttered closed as you savored the feeling. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. 

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him once more. 

“It wasn’t your fault. We all thought the building was clear,” you said. 

“I should’ve-“��

“Logan. Stop- it wasn’t your fault. I’m okay,” you said. 

At the deadpan look he gave you, you shrugged and said, “Okay maybe I’m not totally okay right but I didn’t die and I will be okay.” 

He rolled his eyes at you but smiled reluctantly all the same. 

“I can’t even think about losing you,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. 

You tried to sit up, but winced as pain shot through your abdomen. 

He jumped up and placed his hands on both your shoulders and pressed you back on the bed. 

With a sigh you allowed him to lay you back down. 

You caught his hand before he could pull away. 

“You’re not going to lose me,” you whispered. 

He pursed his lips and you could see a shift within his eyes- it was clear he was holding himself back from saying something. 

“What?” you asked softly. 

He took a deep breath as if to prepare himself. 

The door to the medical lab opened up. 

“What the hell is this?” Mark asked sharply as he walked in with Jean.  

You looked over in confusion. You supposed it had looked concerning, Logan was half leaned over you, his face close to yours as you held onto his hand. 

Logan stood to his full height quickly and took a step back from the bed you laid in. 

“I tried to sit up and was in pain, Logan was helping me lay back down,” you said before Logan could even open his mouth. 

Mark rolled his eyes and mumbled under his breath, “Always another fucking excuse.” 

“Listen bub-“ Logan started to retort but you just shook your head at him. 

Jean came over to your side and asked gently, “How bad is the pain?”. This pulled the attention of both men away from each other and to you. 

“It hurts more when I try to move,” you explained and she nodded. 

She pulled back the blankets and you nodded silently as she pulled up your hospital gown and began to check the wound. 

You looked over and Logan had his back turned to give you privacy, though he still stood close. 

Mark remained at the doorway with his arms crossed as he glared at Logan. 

“Are you even going to check on me or did you just come here to fight with Logan for trying to help me?” you asked Mark sharply. 

He sighed and made his way to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

Jean finished her check up and gave you strict orders to stay in bed for the remainder of the day as she would come check on you again in a few hours. You thanked her and watched her walk out, Logan followed her to reportedly ask her more questions about your well-being. 

“I think you should come stay with me for a while. Y’know, get away from all this once the Doc clears you,” Mark said. 

“What? No. This is my home,” you said quickly. 

“Who else is going to take care of you?” he said. 

“Me,” Logan said as he strode back into the room. 

“Why are you always fucking here man? Can I not have a conversation with my girlfriend without you constantly being here?” Mark snapped- his voice too loud. 

Logan gritted his teeth and you sat up quickly without thinking - opening your mouth to interrupt, to prevent the situation from escalating, but instead you whimpered in pain. 

Logan was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm. 

“Careful,” he murmured and you nodded at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Lay back down, hun,” Mark said with a hand on your other shoulder. 

Jean came back in at the commotion and ordered Logan out of the room despite his protests. 

You watched him with longing as he exited the room, upset that your source of comfort was leaving. 

“Now, are you going to behave?” Jean said sternly at Mark. 

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled as he sat in the chair beside your bed. 

“Do you want something for the pain?” Jean asked with concern. As you looked at her you knew she knew the truth, that your pain was not only physical. 

You nodded and sighed in relief as the medication she gave you worked quickly and you were pulled into unconsciousness once more. 

———

You woke this time to Jean and the Professor at your bedside. 

Jean was checking monitors and Charles sat beside you. 

“Where is he?” you asked as you looked around the room and couldn’t find him. 

“Just outside, he’ll be right back,” Jean reassured with a pat on your arm. 

Jean went about checking your wound as Charles filled you in on the status of official X-Men business since you’d been preoccupied with not dying the past couple of days. 

The door opened, you looked up hopefully, and couldn’t quite hide how your face fell as Mark walked through the door. 

You felt unmoored without the quiet steady presence of Logan. He was the calm in your storm, your anchor when life became overwhelming, and you needed the reassurance of him in this moment. 

“That was not the ‘he’ she was talking about,” Charles whispered to Jean. 

“You’re awake!” Mark said. 

You nodded. 

“Logan will be back in about an hour,” Jean whispered in your ear and you squeezed her hand to thank her, your heart already feeling less heavy at the thought of his return soon. 

But part of you wondered why he would want to leave your side. 

———-

“I’ve never been so bored in my entire life,” you complained to Jean after another day of laying in the hospital bed in her medical lab. 

Logan snorted and muttered, “How do you think I feel?” 

“At least you get to leave,” you said with a laugh. 

“I’m trying to entertain you right now,” he teased. 

You glared at him over the cards in your hands. 

“Go fish,” you said. 

He rolled his eyes and placed a card down on the table in front of you. 

“I thought you were playing poker?” Jean asked with a laugh. 

“I’m trying to teach her poker, but she’s a terrible student,” Logan said. 

“Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher!” you said with a laugh. 

“Alright, I hate to interrupt,” Jean said, “but I am officially clearing you to go to your own room. You’re still to be bedridden until further notice, but you can be in your own room rather than my lab.” 

“YES!” you yelled and everyone laughed with you. 

A few minutes later, Logan held you in his arms as he carefully carried you across the mansion and to your room. 

You melted into his embrace as you rested your head against his chest. 

“Are you still going to keep me company?” you asked. 

His hands squeezed you a little tighter. 

“Of course, always,” he said, his voice slightly rougher. 

You looked up at him and were breathless at the way he looked down at you, with so much affection in his gaze. 

“Do you think I should break up with Mark?” you blurted out. 

The Wolverine stumbled slightly, his mouth open in surprise. 

He opened the door of your bedroom and carefully laid you on the bed. You smiled as he even took the care to tuck you in underneath your blankets. 

“I think that’s up to you, petal,” he said finally once you were settled and he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. His fingers grazed your cheekbone. 

Your breathing quickened. 

“Every night since I was hurt I’ve dreamt of it. The panic in your voice is what haunts me the most,” you whispered. 

You knew you were crossing carefully drawn lines, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

“This isn’t how I was going to do this, but yeah. I think you should break up with that asshole. Be with me. Baby, my heart has belonged to you for a long time now,” he said as he cupped the side of your face. 

Your breathing quickened as warmth filled your entire body, flowers grew from and bloomed from all of the pots and planters in your room as you grinned up at him. 

“Really?” you asked bashfully. 

He was still smiling as his lips brushed against yours. Your breath hitched and he pulled back just enough that his nose grazed against yours. At the tilt of your head, his plush lips were on yours again. 

You sunk your fingers into his thick soft hair and he groaned against your lips. His tongue swept your bottom lip which prompted you to open up to him. As you allowed him in, as his tongue tangled with your own, you let out a soft whine at the taste of him. 

This only led him to kiss you deeper- with more fervency- and his hand moved from your cheek to gently brush the skin of your neck. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, surged upward to shift closer to him- to feel more of his body against yours- then winced at the pain in your abdomen. He pulled back immediately and looked at you in concern. 

“I’m okay,” you assured him as you cupped his cheek. “Best I’ve ever felt, really.” 

He smiled and pressed a gentle much-more-tame kiss to your lips that you savored before he pulled back. 

“I need to let you rest,” he said. 

You grabbed his hand, “Stay with me?” 

“Always,” he promised and the whole world felt like it was in bloom. 

[bratscave]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 THIS MEAL !

warnings/includes. sort of nsfw content, implied younger! reader x old man! logan

you sat perched on the edge of his rickety kitchen table, legs crossed in a way that made your short pink skirt ride up just a little too high. Logan tried not to notice, but it was impossible not to. His eyes trailed up from the scuffed leather of your heels to the way the fabric clung to your thighs, before resting on the innocent look you gave him from under your lashes.

"you really don't cook much, do you, mr. Howlett?" you teased, twirling a lock of hair around your finger as you got up, eyeing the near-empty fridge, right behind him.

logan grunted in response, his attention more focused on the way your lips pouted slightly as you spoke. the years had made him rougher when fucking, he’d learned to channel it differently — steady hands, less rush.

but you.. well you, brought all the nasty ideas out that he thought he'd long have burried behind.

you weren't subtle, not even a little. every glance you threw his way was loaded, every touch lingered just a bit too long. he knew the type — hell, he’d had his fair share of girls like you in his youth, the 70s especially. but this time, the game felt different, heavier. maybe it was the way you looked at him, like you were waiting for him to make a move, or maybe it was just the reminder that he wasn't the man he used to be.

"i manage," he says gruffly, forcing himself to focus on the sparse contents of the fridge rather than the way your legs look in that damn skirt. he could practically hear your heartbeat, fast and eager, the scent of something sweet in the air.

"oh yeah?" your tongue trails over your lip as if you were thinking when he knew damn well whatever you were about to say was pre-planned, "what about we eat out then? something cute, nothing to fancy."

you did in fact not eat out.

it ended up with the both of you not even making it till the restaurant. his hands wander over you, not slow, yet also not to face. lifting up your skirt, inspecting, whispering filthy things into against your skin.

whispering as if there were people around, as if it was dangerous little secret to keep, you should be very careful about you being sort of a 'slut' (he said it so endearingly you almost couldn't believe your ears).

he's so talkative, talks about anything and everything in that deep, gravelly voice of his — comments on the material of your underwear, turns out he 'loves lace' and you 'should wear it more often'.

before you could process the fact that he just implied this wouldn't just be a one time thing, he was all over you again, mouth sucking, teeth bitting, the little stubble scratching your fragile skin but you didn't have time to really think of that.

and when you came, not once, not twice, thrice, in the back of his limo, made a mess of the plush leather seats, he mumbles what a good meal he just had; could taste you forever.

[pretty-little-mind33]

old man!Logan x human fem!reader

Summary: You think Logan hates you but all he's doing is saving you from himself. He didn't think his plan would explode in his face.

Genre: hurt and comfort, angst

Warnings: takes place during Logan, age gap (reader is 25 and Logan is ancient), violence, blood, injuries, swearing, protective!logan, reader is a nurse, reader is a human, Logan isn't super nice in the beginning, Laura is iconic, character death (not reader or Logan)

LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

For the very first time in what felt like years, you felt safe. 

There was no more running, no more chasing, and no more constant gunfire. There was just the smell of homemade cherry pie and laughter. So much laughter. Laura had smiled for the first time since you'd met her, happily eating what was most likely her first family meal. Charles was leaning into playing house, passionately talking about Logan as if he were his actual biological son. And even Logan seemed more at ease, occasionally allowing his pain to slip away and let his eyes crinkle. 

You look down at your corn and hide a smile, listening to Charles and Logan's banter. You'd been taking care of Charles for around a year now, which meant constantly being in his company and making sure you did exactly what Logan wanted.

When it all went to shit, you'd been forced into running away with them. But, you weren't a mutant like Laura or Logan, and you weren't close with any of them like Charles and Logan were with each other, so you were still on the outside no matter what. No matter how much Charles insisted he needed you and Logan needed you, you knew Charles was only making you feel better and less useless.

Logan didn't need you and he certainly didn't want you or your help. He'd made that abundantly clear over the last year.

"Laura, here sweetie," you whisper, handing her her fork. She looks up, her mouth full of mashed potatoes, and sends you a familiar glare. You see the same one Logan wears all the time. You smile, shaking the fork and she listens, using it instead. 

You look up, catching Logan's intense stare and your breath catches. You wonder if you've overstepped in playing the mother figure. Laura is his daughter, he should have the chance to parent her. Your eyes widen slightly and you look away. 

The Munson's had generously opened their home to you and your little "family" and after dinner, Kathryn Munson hands you a pillow and some blankets, smiling warmly as she tells you there are two guest rooms upstairs. "Thank you." You smile, watching as Laura follows her son Nate upstairs like a lost puppy. You wonder if she misses the company of other children and the thought pulls at your heartstrings. 

"Seriously," you say, turning to look at Kathryn, "I cannot thank you enough." 

She smiles, shaking her head, "No need. We're happy to help. You have a beautiful family." 

Kathryn squeezes you in a warm hug, one that feels like one a mother would give to another mother and you suddenly feel like the worst fraud. You pull away, straining a smile as you whisper your goodnight. 

You head upstairs, crossing paths with Logan as he leaves Charles's room. His face is hardened in a pained expression and he coughs. He's been looking worse and worse. You wish you could just help him. You wish he'd let you. You're a nurse after all. Your heart leaps and you turn your head in his direction as he walks by. 

"Logan—"

He stops, turning to look at you but he doesn't speak. He looks almost angry that you've addressed him. You wince and no sound comes out when you open your mouth. It's pathetic how nervous he makes you and how, despite that, your heart can't help but yearn for him.

Logan's gaze softens for a split second, but then he recovers and says, "Check on Charles in an hour or so." He pauses but no please or thank you follows. Logan leaves without another word and your chest tightens.

An hour or so later, you've checked on Charles and Laura, and you're now staring into the darkness of the room. You're curled up in the bed, holding a blanket, as you replay every interaction with Logan you've ever had. You hate how he constantly plagues your mind. How he's constantly lurking in the shadows and twisting at your heart. It's unfair, considering you're sure he never thinks of you. 

You hear the creaking of wood from behind you and you sit up, squinting into the darkness. You see him in the shadow and it's humiliating how well you recognize him just by his silhouette. "Logan?" you whisper, sitting up as the blanket falls from your legs. He doesn't answer. He doesn't even move.

Your heart thumps in your chest and maybe it's the emotions from everything and his lack of acknowledgement but your mouth moves without thinking. "Logan, I know you don't like me very much and I understand. But I'm only here to help. I want to help you. I care about you," you inhale, shutting your eyes as you try and explain, ignoring the burning in your cheeks, "you and Laura, and Charles. All of you."

Logan doesn't answer and the room becomes silent again. You open your eyes, lips pursed. You're frustrated he's still ignoring you when you're pouring your heart out to him. You can feel the unwanted tears brim but you push them back, convincing yourself you're just exhausted and they have nothing to do with the obvious rejection you've just received. 

Logan's walking closer now, his face still obscured in the light but he's breathing heavily. You sit up, squinting. "Logan?" 

You hear his claws, eyes widening as you watch them become visible and his hands flex. You shoot up, tears streaming down your cheeks from fear. Sure, you'd imagined he'd hated you but this? Why is he attacking you when he knows you have no means of defending yourself? No mutation. Nothing.

Does he want to kill you? 

With a roar, he lunges and you barely have time to jump away, making sure his claws only barely puncture your side. You scream, falling to the carpet as blood seeps through your shirt. You scream louder, pressing your palm to your side as you try crawling away from him, gasping for air. 

Logan's hand clasps around your hair, causing you to shriek harder as he pulls you up. You can't see him as he stands behind you. It wouldn't matter anyway, your vision is blurred by your tears. You hear a grunt and then a familiar scream causes him to drop you before he can sink his claws into your back.

Laura tackles him, stabbing him in the head as she screams bloody murder. You crash to the ground, coughing up blood as you turn around. All you see is blood and you blink rapidly, registering that whoever Laura is fighting isn't Logan. Not your Logan. He looks like him but he doesn't move like him. 

"Correr! Run!" Laura screams at you, flipping fake Logan around and stabbing him in the chest multiple times. You don't know how long she can hold him so you scramble up and run out into the hallway. 

Bile rises in your throat as you see Kathryn and Nate on the floor, both dead. Choking on a sob, you run to Charles' room. You push the door, staining the wood with your blood. You're weak but you need to make sure Charles is okay.

"C-Charles?" you cough, spitting out more blood as you slowly become lightheaded from the pain you're in. 

You see Charles, lying in his bed, the sheets covered in blood. Charles is barely breathing and even when you make it to his side, he doesn't have the strength to look at you. You scream out of pain and agony, trying to find his wounds to help him live. To save him. But, you're powerless. 

Laura's screaming becomes louder and more frantic and you whip your head around. Fake Logan has restrained her and he's standing in the hall. You sob, having no real escape route as he blocks your path. Poor Laura is a mess and all you want to do is tell her everything's okay but nothing is okay. You're all being massacred. 

"Please," you whimper. You don't know why you try. You don't think your pleading would work on your Logan, why would it work on one that seems to be more animal than man? Fake Logan's gaze is hard. He looks younger, and his hair is less gray, but he looks just as furious—maybe even more so.

You don't think you can hold on much longer anyway, not with the slashes in your side. They aren't deadly alone, but you're losing a lot of blood and you're exhausted. It won't be long until you eventually pass out. Fake Logan walks in, grinding his claws on the walls just to scare you. You wince, eyes blurry as you sway on your feet. You stand in front of Charles, still protecting him the best you can. 

"Laura," you whisper, turning your attention to the little girl. She's still shrieking. 

"Charles!" you hear a familiar voice and your Logan runs past Laura, and into the room to find Charles. Of course, you think, it's always Charles. Not that you can blame him. Logan registers the scene in an instant as Fake Logan turns. He's so distracted by your Logan that he's stopped advancing on you.

Logan's eyes dart around, wide and furious. He sees Charles, who's probably dead by now and then they land on you. You probably look like shit as you sway harder, coughing as blood drips around your hand. "L-Logan," you say, your eyes fluttering. 

You hear Logan shout and then you feel like you have cotton in your ears as your vision goes completely blank. You hit the ground, registering the pain in your head for only a second before everything falls silent. 

* * *

You wake up to a small hand in yours and a cold cloth pressing against your forehead. You blink awake, your eyes adjusting to the sun from outside. "Ella está despierta!" Laura exclaims, her face is emotionless but when a group of children rush up, she smiles. "She is awake," Laura repeats, squeezing your hand. 

You blink, looking around at the small cabin. Sitting up, your hand moves to your injured side and feels the bandages wrapped around your torso. It doesn't hurt as much as it should for a fresh wound. How long have you been out? 

"Stop crowding her," Logan's gruff voice interrupts your thought as he stands in the doorway. You jump and the children scatter but Laura stays. She looks at Logan and motions him inside. Something had changed, you can see it in the way she looks at him. 

When you turn your head, you inhale. The memory of what had happened that night plays in your mind and Logan's face only makes it worse. "Scared," Laura says bluntly, dropping your hand. Logan chuckles darkly and leans against the doorframe. He looks better than he had the last time you saw him. Color has returned to his cheeks. 

"I can see that," he says, "Go play, kid. I'll take care of her." 

Laura nods curtly and follows her friends. 

You don't want to be alone with Logan and so you stare at him. You're afraid to look away in case he lunges at you or tries to kill you or— "That wasn't me. I don't know who that was, but it wasn't me," Logan says, walking inside and sitting on the opposite bed to yours. He's meeting your gaze. 

"How long have I been out?" you ask softly, ignoring what he'd just said. 

Logan rubs a hand over his face. "Almost a week. We didn't know if you'd ever wake up again," he admits and your chest tightens. "Your body wasn't healing and we couldn't exactly stop for as long as you needed. So all we could do was give you medicine and keep you breathing but it wasn't looking good…"

You bite your lip, a little surprised to hear all this. "Why didn't you leave me? I must have been such a burden."

Logan's eyebrows pinch in irritation. "Leave you? To die? Is that what you think of me?" he asks, clearly the question hit a nerve. Logan looks down, knowing the answer and he clears his throat. "Laura wouldn't think of it. And I didn't either," he says seriously, catching your gaze again. "It was never an option." 

"Well, thank you," you whisper, forcing a smile. You look at him. "What happened?"

Logan's face hardens. "Things went to shit," is all he says and you don't press him. 

It's weird being on the receiving end of caregiving. You've been so used to taking care of Charles, you'd forgotten what being the one cared for felt like. You look around the small cabin. It feels different up here. Everyone is different. Laura seems happier now that she's with her friends, and Logan seems a little happier now that Laura is happier. 

"Is that new?" you ask softly, reaching up your hand as if to touch Logan's beard. You'd noticed it immediately. The mutton-chops. A badly done mutton-chop beard—but a change nonetheless. Logan's cheeks seem to flush pink and he hides himself behind a cough, avoiding your gaze. 

"Stupid kids," he mutters with no real bite behind his words. 

"It looks good," you say, sitting up and looking down at your blood-stained shirt and jeans as you hold yourself up. Logan chuckles, the sound almost sounding like full laughter. "No, really," you defend, embarrassed, "you look really good. Very sexy…very…Wolverine…"

Your voice is small and you're aware of how much of an idiot you sound like. You want to crawl into a hole. Perhaps, you think, it would have been so much better if fake Logan had killed you and then you wouldn't–wait—is he moving closer? What is he doing? 

You realize Logan's coarse hands are cupping around your cheeks, his thumb stroking your skin. He's never been this close to you and you can't help but look at the flex of his arms. Your stomach tightens.

Logan's nose touches yours for a moment, nuzzling, and then he chuckles. "Such a sweet girl," he whispers and his thumb moves to your hairline, touching your hair. "Always so sweet, hm?" 

You blink, still frozen with anticipation. 

Logan pulls away and looks at you intensely. He sounds so serious when he says, "Wolverine is gone. You understand that, right?" Your heart hammers in your chest, unable to tear yourself away from his gaze. "He's dead. And I'm not too far from that either."

Your eyebrows pinch and you shake your head, "Logan, don't say that," you whisper.

Logan's forehead rests against yours. "Fuck, you're the last good thing I had. The one silver lining in all the fucked up darkness. And it hurts. Hurts to be around you, to hear your laughter and see your smile and know I'll never be able to love you like you deserve."

He leans in, capturing your lips in his. You tense, not expecting the kiss but it doesn't take long for you to melt into his touch. "I knew you wanted me, sugar. I could feel it. I could smell it," he whispers hoarsely, kissing along your jaw, "Never made any moves on you because look at you, you're sweet like candy. Too pure for my bloodied hands."

"Logan," you whine, dazed by his kisses and confused by his confession. 

"And then you almost died because of me? My claws," he growls into your skin and kisses you again. His hand lifts your shirt as he gently skims the bandage around your torso. "Those will be scars from my claws." 

After he says this, he abruptly pulls away and lets out a breath as if he's controlling himself. He looks angry at himself. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't do this—"

"Logan, they aren't your claws."

He sends you a warning look.

"No, they aren't. That wasn't you. So why are you blaming yourself?"

Logan huffs and wraps his hand around your head, clutching your hair in his fist. He looks like he's in pain and you don't know what. "Logan, let me help you," you whisper, pressing a shaking hand onto his chest. "I care about you. I don't want to give up on you. Please." 

Your lips still tingle from his. 

Logan sighs, leaning his forehead on yours. "Okay, bub," he says, taking a pause. Still, he stands and then leaves the little cabin with one last glance your way and you're left breathless and unsure.

A day later, you're sitting by the campfire. Logan hasn't been around all day. You think he's been avoiding you. The thought makes you ache as you pick at the log you're sitting on. You hear small footsteps and look behind you. Laura climbs over the log and sits next to you. She's staring at the crackling flames. 

"Hi," you whisper, smiling at her. 

"Daddy te ama," she says bluntly. She looks at you, her gaze hard. 

You tilt your head, biting the inside of your cheek. "He loves me?"

Laura nods and points to the house, where you know Logan is lying inside. You saw him walk inside but hadn't dared to find him. "Go," Laura says suddenly and gently pushes on your arm. You stumble up, laughing a little to ease your nerves. Go and say what? You think. 

Hi, I know you've been avoiding me but your daughter says you love me so—

You shake the thoughts from your head and decide to walk towards the cabin anyway. You can hear Logan inside as you knock on the door. There is a moment of silence and then a gruff, "Come in," and you open the door. Logan is sitting on the small bed, wrapping up his torso. He's bleeding. One of his wounds must have opened up. He looks like he's in pain. 

He looks up, not looking surprised that it's you, and he motions you over. You hurry to sit next to him, wincing as you do because you'd done it too quickly and your wounds are still sore. Logan sends you a disapproving look. "Careful."

You nod, your gaze stuck on his chest. Logan sees you watching him and sighs. "Look," he turns, rolling his shoulders. His words seem to catch in his throat when he sees how sweet your expression is and his defense melts. How much longer can he pretend he doesn't think of you all the time? As if on autopilot, his hand reaches out and his knuckles stroke your cheek. "How can I convince you I'm bad for you?"

"You can't," you say instantly, holding his gaze now. "I don't think you are. You're a good man, Logan."  

Logan shuts his eyes. There you go again. Calling him good, implying that he isn't the horrible monster he knows he is. He wants to shake his head, correct you, and tell you what he truly is. Remind you he's a dying man, but when he opens his eyes and looks into yours again, all the fight leaves his body. 

He thinks of the claw marks that litter your side. How he'd spent an entire year pushing you away and all that ended up happening was you almost dying. Logan had never wanted to live more than those weeks he watched your unconscious body, unsure if you would ever wake again. He had wanted to live to see you again. 

Logan looks at your lips. He wants to believe you, he wants to see the good in him, he wants to see what you see. His thumb gently skims the soft skin of your bottom lip. "Laura says you love me," you whisper, unable to keep the information to yourself and Logan is a little surprised. But then he laughs and the wrinkles in his eyes accentuate. 

"Hm, she said that didn't she?" 

You nod, unconsciously leaning into his touch. 

Logan grins and strokes your cheek. He feels like he can breathe again, the pain in his side almost forgotten. "Pain in the ass, that girl is," he hums, no bite or bark in his words.

"Is she wrong?" 

He shakes his head and leans in, kissing your lips again. He enjoys the kiss, taking it slow this time. His lips stay on yours as if he's savoring you. You move closer, your hands finding his knee as you squeeze.

Logan groans into your mouth and pulls you in a little closer. "No, she isn't," he whispers and kisses you again. You kiss him back, hoping to convey that you love him too by how you're kissing him. Logan's heart burns. 

For something so selfish, it feels so good. Perhaps, he can bask in your hope for as long as he can, perhaps if he believes you just enough, what you say will become true and his body won't fail him. Deep down, he knows it's a futile hope, but it's one he'll let you cling to if it means he can have you like this. 

His. 

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part 3 Logan Howlett x fem!reader Series masterlist

It was a bad idea. It obviously was a bad idea, but it was so good. The sex was so good, how were you supposed to stop it?

Logan had you hooked on him, had you constantly wanting more.

Every night—every single night—he shows at your bedroom after lights out and he fucks you until he’s had his fill. And that’s a while, because his healing factor allows him to have more stamina than what should be humanely possible.

And the thing is, you let him. And you enjoy it. And you want more.

Every chance you get, you two sneak off for a quickie, or for a few heated touches, or just long enough for Logan to eat you out.

But it's just sex. Only sex, that's what it's all about. You know it and he knows it. And you both know it's not going anywhere else.

Which you're fine with, honestly.

Normally, it's sex and then you both get dressed and a quick kiss goodbye until next time.

Tonight, it's no different.

Logan is quick to discover that one of his favorite positions is having you face down, ass up. The way you arch your back, the way you're so vulnerable to him, it boosts his ego. And he loves it.

He builds you up for a really long time, kissing your nape, his hands just tracing your body, occasionally slipping between your thighs to spread your folds and play with your clit until you're dripping onto the bed.

He waits, he pushes your limits until you break.

“Please,” you gasp, voice hoarse from all the moaning and whining. “Please, Logan, fuck me.”

He smirks, his large hands massaging your ass. “Yeah, alright,” he says like he's doing you a favor. He reaches to the nightstand, taking out a condom from the pile he placed there so he wouldn't have to go back and forth between his room and yours.

He kicks his sweats off, no boxers underneath it, and he grunts quietly at the freedom.

He squeezes your ass, your thigh with one hand while he opens the condom with his teeth and rolls it onto his cock.

He playfully taps your cunt with the tip, smirking as you let out a sharp breath.

“You're so needy, bub. Always so eager f’r my cock,” he whispers, leaning down to your ear. He runs his teeth over the shell of your ear while he slowly pushes into you.

You moan, back arching, cunt greedily taking him in, and he chuckles lowly.

One of his hands remains at your hip to keep you in place, the other one grabs onto the headboard so he can hold himself up.

He gives you a moment to adjust, his chest against your back, his lips kissing your shoulder softly. When he feels you relax, he starts.

He pulls out gently before slamming back into you, groaning at the sound of his skin meeting yours.

You squeal, hands grabbing onto the bed sheets tightly, your body rocking back and forth as he fucks you.

He grunts, fucking you hard and deep, his mind hazy with the scent of your arousal and sweat. You smell so sweet, like you were made to drive him crazy.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moans lowly, voice raspy. “Jesus fucking Christ, bub. I love this cunt ‘f yours. So tight…”

His hand moves from your hip to your thigh and he forces your legs further apart, making more space for him to maneuver.

The headboard slams against the wall and Logan knows that, next door, Storm or Scott or whoever the fuck is there, can hear it. He knows they know. They know he's fucking you, they know he's got you like a whore for him, and he likes that. He wants everyone to know you're his plaything, his good girl. That you're his.

Logan's hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles, groaning when your pussy clenches around his cock.

“Yeah, bub, I know. ‘m gonna make you come. Want you to feel good, yeah?” he says into your ear, grunting. “C'mon, baby, you're so fuckin’ close. I can tell.”

You're done. You're seeing stars and your ears are ringing. Your body is weak with pleasure and exertion, your cervix almost bruised from how hard he's fucking you.

It doesn't take long for you. Between his hard, deep thrusts and his fingers deftly working at your clit, he sends you over the edge.

You come hard, legs trembling, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan, squealing softly and whining his name over and over again. “Logan! Logan! Logan! Logan!”

He grunts, his hips faltering as you tighten around him. The smell of your orgasm and the way you cry his name gets the better of him, and he comes. His cock twitches as he spills into the condom and he stays buried in you, groaning.

After a while, when you've both regained your breath some, he pulls out gently and lies down next to you.

He carefully leads you to lie on the bed, facing him, and he pushes your hair out of your face. “You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“’m good,” you assure, smiling gently.

He nods, satisfied, and pulls you closer. “If I ever hurt you, you gotta tell me,” he says, kissing your sweaty temple.

You nod softly, cuddling up against him some.

Now, normally, Logan gives you a while to regain your strength before he gets up, dresses, and leaves. But he's awfully tired right now, and your bed is comfortable and your body is warm, and…

He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until next morning, when he wakes up and sees you lying next to him, peacefully asleep.

At first, he finds the sight endearing. You just look so precious, so blissful when you're asleep. No worries, no pressure. You're just resting.

And then he realizes you're still naked. His cock is quick to twitch at the mere thought of being in you again.

Why only fuck you once a day when he could do it twice? Plus, what better way to start the day?

---

Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog @giuliahowlett @lemonsquaredd @meadow-field @secretpandaconnoisseur @givenoutlaw @wunder-blunder @aredheadednerd @fictionalmen-dilflover @insanesociopath @m1cky-y-y @fictional-hooman @ion-even-know @znerac @steviebbboi @insanesosciopath

---

Blog masterlist

[nymphoniah]

p links with logan howlett part 3

as always: nsfw, mdni! 18+ only! (part 1) (part 2)

content/warnings: somnophilia, breath play, impact play, p-in-v sex, anal, bdsm themes, spit play, gagging, oral sex, manhandling, public sex

i found an account that posts clips from pascal’s ss so expect me to go a bit feral this week…! :3 anyways, all links are on twt, so in order to open them make sure you’re logged in!

you decide to take a shower after going at it for hours, but logan decides to hop in for round two

logan lets you tag along while he’s chauffeuring around the city, and during his downtime, you ride him and give him some sloppy head

trying out breath play with logan for the first time. also some pussy slapping at the end :3

logan training your cunt with his fingers to prepare you for his dick

you get bratty with logan, and he has no other choice but to put his girl in her place

logan is set to leave for a long mission and will be gone for a week. the night before he leaves, you decide you want to film something to keep you company for when he’s gone

logan can’t help but stare at your ass while you’re prepping dinner in the kitchen. he can’t ignore you, so he decides to bend you over the counter

size kink with logan as he practically uses and handles you like a fucktoy, sliding you up and down his cock with ease.

logan pinning you down with his body as he fingers you (and you thank him for the treat by giving him head!)

anal with logan, then later overstimulates you while fingering you (also some spit play)

consensual somnophilia with logan—he wakes up with morning wood and doesn’t wanna bother you so early in the morning!

you and logan are sent out on a mission, but logan gets exposed to sex pollen. being the kind girl you are, you decide to help him out

logan talking you through it as you ride him

rough sex with logan and deepthroating and gagging around his cock

logan pushing your head down into the mattress while he fucks you from behind

you’re a whining mess as logan splits your cunt in half with his cock

wearing logan’s white button-up while he fucks you senseless

lazy morning sex with logan

hope yall enjoyed <3

[buck-star]

MFML: Prologue | L.H

>> You never thought life would have so many facets — up and downs and everything in between. A new job, new apartment, new dates and new friends. What you didn’t expect was for you to find yourself in a ‘no string attached’ situation that wasn’t as ‘no string attached’ as you tried to tell yourself. And your new neighbor didn’t make it easy to not fall in love with him. <<

Pairing: FWB!Logan Howlett x FWB!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.229 Words

Warnings: fluff, flirting, some naughty comments, petnames [lovebug, bear], more fluff, so much more fluff

Authors Note: This series is based on the idea of @wtfhasmy-lifecometo, who is also such an amazing support during the writing process and helping with all the ideas. Divider made by me.

Events: Fandom-Free: Frosty Edition [G1 | Hairs standing up on the back of your neck | @fandom-free-bingo], Seasonal delights bingo: types of love [N1 | "i think that we make a pretty good team, the two of us." | @seasonaldelightsbingo]

Masterlist | Logan Howlett Masterlist

MFML Series Masterlist

The cool breeze blowing through the street doesn’t even cool you down a bit. Sweat is running down your forehead; you’re panting and trying to catch your breath when you pick up the next box. It is heavier than the ones before, and you curse under your breath, lifting it up slightly before you let it fall back into the trunk of your car. The box was definitely too heavy for you alone to pick up and carry into your new apartment.

With a groan, you turn around and pick up one of the lighter boxes you already moved out of the car onto the sidewalk. Some help will definitely help, but moving into a new town with no one around but your grandmother doesn’t offer anyone who can help you. Of course, you can ask your grandmother, but she can carry less than you, so you wouldn’t get the heavy boxes into your apartment either.

“Need a hand, lady?” A low voice comes from next to you. You don’t notice anyone walking toward you, so you shriek and immediately get up from your bending-down position. Unfortunately, your trunk is still open, and with the force you get up, you hit your head and groan. The man, who just offered his help, walks another step closer. “Are you okay? Didn’t want to scare ya.”

He’s tall, towering above you. Only when you look up do you notice the cute kitty ears he has made with his hair. You’re not sure if it’s on purpose or if it’s like a ‘cute hair day’ but whatever it is — it suits him and makes the big man look actually pretty cute. He has a trimmed beard, which looks just as fluffy as his hair, and you have to push down the urge to touch it.

“‘m Logan, did ya hurt ya’self much?” He asks, watching you run your hand over the back of your head where you just hit it. You shake your head; it was more the shock than everything else.

“I’m y/n. But no, I didn't hurt myself, not really. Was just shocked that you were suddenly standing next to me,” you explained, sliding your fingers through your hair before you place it on the trunk to close it. He nods, looking at the boxes that are standing around you and on the sidewalk. Then his green eyes move to the boxes in your car, and he frowns slightly. “Uhm… I will pick them up later.”

He shakes his head, taking your hand softly from your car. Logan's touch is gentle, and his hands are soft and warm. You shiver slightly, narrowing your eyes as he leads you away from your car to the sidewalk. “Lemme carry them; ya take the light ones; I get the ones here. Then you don’t need to carry them ya’self.”

He doesn’t let you argue with him; he will carry the boxes for you if you want or not; he won’t let a pretty thing like you hurt yourself because you may be too stubborn to let him help you with it.

You sigh, nodding when you pick up one of the lighter boxes and wait for Logan to get a heavy one out of the trunk of your car. But instead of taking just one, he places a second on top of it and lifts it up. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen as you watch him pick it up like it weighs nothing.

“So where do you wan— are you okay, lovebug?” Logan asks, the pet name slipping past his lips like it’s the most normal thing. For a moment he was afraid you would look at him weird, but when your expression doesn’t change, he thinks to himself that it actually feels pretty good.

He doesn’t even know why he called you that, but it’s just fitting. You’re so sweet and precious, just like a ladybird — one of his favorite little animals. But the cuteness makes you just so loveable that he comes up with that pet name without even thinking about it deeply.

”Mhm… I mean. Do yo— Isn’t that a bit too heavy?” You ask, narrowing your eyes as he makes his way to the front door. He chuckles, shaking his head and waiting for you to lead the way. You nod slowly, looking him up and down to make sure he won’t break underneath the boxes. But he stands there on steady legs, not even looking like he holds such heavy things in his hands.

You walk into the hallway of the house. Logan grins as you walk further and further through the hallway and closer to his apartment. He chuckles when you stop a door away on the opposite side, watching you look for your keys.

“Looks like my new neighbor isn’t that bad. No couple that’s going to fuck all night long,” he says, walking into your apartment. He places the boxes in the living room and turns around to face you once again. Logan’s green eyes are piercing into yours, noticing the amusement about his comment. “Ya laugh, it’s really annoying to hear them having one quick fuck every three hours because he’s like a teenager and comes before she does.”

“And you are not like a teenager? Maybe you haven’t had the perfect one wrapped around your little Logan down there,” you tease. Logan rolls his eyes playfully; he moves closer to you with a grin, trying to find something to say, but you cut him off after placing the boxes down as well. “There are still some more boxes to carry for you, bear.”

Logan frowns when you call him ‘bear’. It doesn’t sound bad at all, but how is it possible that you two just met and it feels like you know one another for so long already? Like you know one another for years already, better than anyone else. The pet name and your sly smile cause a warmth spreading through his body, and he can’t help but feel himself smiling even more.

Logan wasn't that happy in a whole, but then you walked into his life — or he walked into you — and suddenly he feels like every fear, every pain is taken away from him, out of reach just because he can see you smile and knows it’s him who makes you feel that way.

“Bear, huh?” He asks, following you back to the car. Lovebug and bear, he hasn’t heard people calling another one that before, but it makes the bond you hopefully build even deeper. And even though Logan doesn’t know what kind of relationship you two are going to have at some point, he knows that he wants you at least as a good friend.

“Yeah, you’re just as strong as one, plus you’re hairy. You have hair on your head and your beard. I’m sure you have hairy arms and legs,” you explain, picking up another box, while Logan takes two more and closes the trunk. He chuckles, shaking his head. Logan’s eyes barely leave your smaller frame, and he already loved the way the two of you could joke around.

“Wait ‘til ya see my chest and stomach,” he tells you. Your eyes widen, and he grunts amused as you instinctively lick your lips in a teasing manner. “Or my happy trail; it’s a happy way to the places you only dream about, lovebug.”

“You think I only dream about it? I may have all those little films, magazines, and toys in those heavy boxes. Or what do you think is in them?” You tease him, and this time it’s on Logan to gasp softly — it was just playful, but it was funny enough for the two of you to burst out laughing. The whole complex was able to hear the two of you, and now it wasn’t someone moaning or skin slapping against skin. This time it was the happiness and joy that was spread around because of you two nearing and getting along like old friends — ready to develop your relationship even further.

After carrying all the boxes into your apartment, Logan makes it his mission to look around. You don’t have a lot of stuff built up yet; not even your bed is ready for you to sleep in. But you have your couch, and you don’t mind sleeping there — you don’t mind it. But Logan does; if you sleep the first night in your new apartment, you should sleep perfectly fine. He won’t let you sleep on the couch when he can get your bed ready with little effort.

So, when he walks back into the kitchen to ask you for the tools he needs, he can’t help but chuckle low in his throat. You are bending over — once again — to order the plates and cups and place them into the kitchen counters.

Logan leans against the counter opposite you, smirking when you get up and turn around to face him. The glistening of amusement in your eyes makes his lips curl up even more, and he tilts his head slightly.

“Actually, I was wondering where ya tools are, but I don’t mind this pretty view either. Ya like bending over for me; ya’re doing it whenever I’m around,” he jokes. Your cheeks heat up, and you look away, pretending to find the tooles. It’s what you want to do, but his intense stare at you, the green eyes boring into you, and the smile you can even feel make it hard to concentrate on anything but him.

“They are… uhm—“ you interrupt yourself. You’re standing on your tiptoes to have a better look over the living room and the boxes that are standing in front of the chairs at the table. “Maybe… over there, by the couch.”

Logan follows where you point, his eyes scanning the stuff standing there — boxes, plants, a few books in a smaller carton, and the tools he is looking for. With a look at you and a soft nod, he pushes himself off the counter. He feels your eyes on him, a smirk across his face because he knows that you’re watching his muscles flex with every movement he’s doing.

Since he took off his hoodie after the second time carrying boxes into your apartment and he was feeling way too hot to keep on his thick hoodie, he revealed his thick arms in a tight shirt. His shirt is tight enough to show off his flexing back muscles and his chest and abs. This man really is well trained, and you have to stop yourself from daydreaming and drooling over him when he walks around or carries anything. Logan could probably lift you up and carry you around, or manhan—.

“Ya starin’ and droolin’, lovebug,” Logan mumbles, walking over to the tools to get your bed fixed. You close your mouth, your tongue bulging your cheek out, and you bite your lip with a soft smirk. You watch him walking through the living room, kneeling down with a quiet crack in his knees as he looks through the tools he needs. “Don’t laugh; you will crack like that once you’re my age too.”

“Which age are we talking about?” You smirk, leaning with your forearms on the counter to look at him. Logan looks up at you, his lips twitching. You shake your head, chuckling. “Don’t act like you’re that much older, bear.”

“Around 200 years,” Logan says casually. Your eyes widen, and you gasp. This was a bad joke, Logan being around two hundred years older but looking like he’s just a few years older than you.

“And how old are you really?” You ask, titling your head. But Logan looks with such determination and truth in his green eyes at you that you swallow thickly. Logan gets up from the floor, walking closer to you. He grins at you while keeping his eyes on you. Your unbelievable expression makes you so cute and adorable.

“Around 200 years,” he repeats. “Ya think I’m lying? Maybe once we have more time and ya bed is all fixed, I will tell ya, lovebug.”

You nod, and Logan leans over the counter opposite you. Your faces are only inches away from one another, and you can feel his warm breath against your soft skin. You shiver, trying to stay steady, but you squirm slightly and earn a chuckle from Logan.

“H-how about we get some coffee once you’re done fixing my bed. Because I feel like I can’t talk it out of you,” you say quietly, almost breathless. Logan nods; he pushes himself off the counter, happy that you accept his offer to let him fix your bed without arguing. He feels like you know that he can be just as stubborn as you if he wants — so why argue when he can help you with stuff. You can really need his strength.

“I think that we make a pretty good team, the two of us. So, no, you definitely can’t talk me out of it. But coffee sounds good, then I better hurry,” Logan says, turning around to walk back into your living room. He can’t wait to get out with you; he may tell you more about himself then, but he will also get to know more about you as well.

Taglist: @pono-pura-vida @sergeantbarnessdoll @rogersbarber @kimmie113080 @sebastianstanisahotmf @fandomxo00

[imtherain]

YOU CANT END IT THERE OF ALL PLACES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

but really this was so good I kept finding it when Tumblr kept crashing on me. It took me probably 3 tries over 3 hours to finish it

neighbor across the hall (part 1) 18+

summary: newly divorced, you move into an apartment complex, living alone for the first time in years. while you're still adapting and making friends you find that the single father and his daughter across the hall find you very fascinating. word count: 6.8k pairing: modern!Logan Howlett x fem!reader tags: modern au, smut if you squint really hard, rough Logan, dad Logan, boxer Logan, neighbors to lovers, Logan is a softie, !mdni!

“I know Mom-“

You sang, your feet leading you up the creaky staircase to your third floor apartment. You were fiddling with your purse, trying to find your keys as the phone was tucked into your shoulder and pressed against your ear. Your mom’s muffled voice rang again, more upset than before.

“I told you I don’t want you to be by yourself. What about your friend, uh what was her name… Margie?”

You sighed, still digging through the messy purse.

“Darcy, her name was Darcy, Mom.”

“Well why don’t you two become roommates? She was a sweet girl-“

You paused trying to find the missing keys when you reached your apartment door.

“She’s living with her girlfriend… Besides, I'll be fine. I need to be on my own for a while. This neighborhood isn’t too bad, a few drug dealers here and there.”

Your mom gasped lightly and you could almost see her hitting your shoulder through the phone. She said your name loudly, almost in a warning to not joke about that.

You giggled lightly, letting out a quick “Aha!” when your fingers found the keys.

“Kidding. Ok, well I gotta let you go Mom. I have to do dishes, clean, y’know what single people do.”

“Ok sweetie, just be safe.”

“I always am.”

You both said your goodbyes before you hung up the phone and opened the door of your freshly furnished apartment. You entered and it was still slightly messy from unpacking and it had the smell of old mildewy carpet. You set your phone and keys on the counter, sighing as you glanced around the small apartment. The room was quiet and still, and the only thing that you could hear was the feet pounding in the room above you and the honking of cars outside your open window.

The rest of your day was boring to say the least. You cooked yourself dinner, a frozen pizza and a glass of red wine. You then proceed to waltz around your living room, with said glass of wine in hand, trying to decide what to unpack first with your eyes flying to a box of old wedding gifts labeled “Shit asshole didn't want!”. You thought about it then and there that maybe you should've thrown away the ‘shit’ from your cheating ex-husband but you couldn't. You paused, the sound of bass rumbling through the walls, vibrating your kitchen. You stopped in your kitchen, pressing your ear against the wall. The melody of some old rock song you didn't know flowing through your walls. And then it stopped.

You walked towards your door, hearing the yelling of an old lady who lived a few doors down. You had briefly met earlier that week, her name slipping from your mind. You opened your door to find your neighbor next to you and the older woman arguing. You leaned against the doorframe, the wine glass was still in your hand, and you swirled it before taking another sip as you watched the conversation play out.

“-turn the music down!”

“It wasn't even loud, Sheryl, it was like…quiet.” Sheryl. That was her name. A name to suit a cranky old lady that was for sure. You couldn't see the neighbor, due to a head of gray curly hair blocking your sight.

“Quiet?!”

“For me, yes.”

“Just turn it down before I tell the landlord, again.”

“No wait- ok fine i'll turn it down.” They both said something, but it was too quiet and they were too far away for you to hear. And then the old lady turned around her eyes meeting yours before she scolded you, and walked down the stairs. The elevator was broken, and had been for a few months from what your landlord told you. You were glad you didn’t live on the fifth floor. You watched her until she was gone and met the eyes of your neighbor. She was wearing a large baggy t-shirt with the band Metallica plastered over it and her hair was black and short, ears length. She was wearing plaid pajama pants and bunny slippers, which made you slightly surprised.

“Just to let you know, it doesn't bother me.” You said as she stared at you, her eyes squinting at you.

“Noted.” She said before she turned around, about to shut the door but you were fast and you stopped her door with your hand, and she gazed at you through a small gap.

“What are you doing?”

“Introducing myself.” You said, and you gave her your name. She stared at you, and you waited for her to introduce herself too but she just stood there staring at you for a few seconds. But, then she looked down at the glass of wine in your hand and opened the door a little wider.

“I’m Lee.” She introduced, sticking her hand out to you. You shook it lightly, and she was about to close the door again when you spoke up.

“Uh, I live next door. Three-sixteen”

“I know.” She said before she slammed the door in your face and you were stuck staring at the numbers 314 before music blared again, slightly quieter than before but still loud. You turned around sighing, walking back to your door but stopped when you saw a girl, no older than twelve, sitting at the stairs staring at you. You smiled at her and waved, but she didn't even budge. She made no move to wave back or even manage a smile.

She just stared at you, eyes not moving. It was slightly intimidating. She kept staring at you until you made it back to your door, and entered your apartment. You blew air out of your mouth, and stared at the boxes again, your hands on your hips as you set the empty glass of win in the sink. They were haunting you waiting to be put away. And that's what you ended up doing for the rest of the night and only one box sat, untouched by you.

The next morning you planned to go job-hunting. You had tried every place in the area hiring for servers, but none seemed the least bit interested in actually hiring people. Before your divorce, you had planned on becoming a professional ballet dancer, and you were quite good, amazing even, but your ex-husband had demanded you do something to at least make a little more money. And you did. You quit going to dance school to become a full-time bartender at some lousy bar. You always thought your ex-husband was jealous of you, and now you truly believed he had crushed your dreams because he was envious of your talent. The last place on your list was a bar a block from your apartment complex, walking distance. It was small, but loud as you entered the bar.

You sat down at the bar, all the way at the end, waiting for someone to speak to you, but a few minutes went by before you heard yelling from the kitchen.

“Fine! I don’t give a fuck, fire me! Good luck finding someone to get you money!” A girl, with curly black hair and gold hoops on her ears, exited the kitchen as a chubby bald man trailed behind her. Both of them looked heated, in some kind of argument and you sat up, listening.

“Maria, you can't solicit guests here, that's prostitution!” He yelled, his hands flying in the air.

“Why do you care?”

“Because you're my niece and I really don't want your mother-”

“Ok well I quit!” The man put his fingers to his forehead, and they both started yelling in a foreign language you couldn’t understand before Maria stormed out of the bar with a scream, the door slamming behind her. The man, possibly the owner, looked around the bar before his eyes landed on you. You looked away quickly, to hide yourself but he started to approach you.

“Hi, uh sorry about that,” He cleared his throat. “Can I get you anything?” He asked and you looked at him before replying.

“Are you hiring?”

“As of three seconds ago, yes.”

“Need a new server?”

Within three minutes of speaking with the owner, whose name you learned was Pascal, he had hired you on the spot and asked you to come in the next Friday, prepared for training. You assured him you had loads of experience and didn't need to train but he insisted. He told you the bar was always slow, mostly consisting of older men and told you to be ready for anything these men tried. After training that Friday, you got home late that night, around twelve in the morning, exhausted. You entered your apartment, showering and changing into shorts and a tank top (It was summer-time and the AC didn't work on your floor).

As you got into bed, ready to fall asleep for the night, a loud guitar bass sounded through your apartment. You groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it to your face and you could still hear the music coming from your neighbor. After about ten minutes of this, you sat up walking to your door to speak to your neighbor and their music. It usually didn't bother you but tonight you were not in the mood to not get sleep over AC/DC. You knocked on Lee’s door not once but five times, the final time banging both of your fists loudly against the door before the music stopped and Lee opened the door, a guitar pick in her mouth.

“What?” She questioned, as if she were clueless.

“Please turn it down, I really need some sleep.”

“No can do, I have a showcase tomorrow.”

“Just turn it down, my room is right next door.” Lee nodded before she slammed the door in your face, the music blaring again seeming more loud than before. You groaned loudly, kicking her door annoyingly with your foot.

“If you ask her to turn it down, she just makes it louder.” You turned to find a man you hadn't met before, keys in his hand as he was watching you, a smug look on his face. As if this was amusing to him. He was wearing jeans and boots, and a large jacket, as if it wasn't eighty degrees outside. He had brown hair, and gray hairs were poking through. He looked permanently angry, the lines across his face showing that. He was across the hall from you, the only thing separating you were the stairs. You crossed your arms over your chest, scoffing.

“You can't hear it from my apartment.” He said, and you stood up straighter, your hands dropping at your side, his invitation surprising you. Was he actually inviting you into his apartment? You laughed, slightly offended.

“If you think-” He turned his back to you, opening the door with his keys before he slammed the door shut, the sound echoing down the hallway. You stood there in disbelief before you entered your apartment, the sound of guitars and drums the only thing you heard for the next two hours.

“Darcy, you have to visit me. This place is wack, there's an annoying emo girl next to me, some old lady downstairs that's always complaining about something, this Firestarter lookalike and some creepy guy across the hall.” You complained on the phone the next night, talking to your best friend, Darcy. You met Darcy at college, she was a music major and actually graduated pursuing her dreams of becoming an Opera singer. She was fantastic and you always loved watching her.

“Sounds fun. All of our neighbors are old couples.” You groaned, plopping down on your couch.

“I wish.”

“How are you holding up? And don't lie to me.” You glanced at the untouched box of things from your ex-husband.

“I'm fine, really.” She said your name over the phone, almost like a warning. “I'm fine!” You said, laying down on the couch.

“Ok well it’s only been a couple months. How’s your new job going?”

“It’s good. Enough to keep me going for now, my boss is…weird but not creepy. The place is-” You stopped talking when a knock sounded throughout your apartment coming from your door.

“Hey, I'll talk to you later Darcy.” You got up from the couch, hanging up the phone. You opened your door to find no one there except the mysterious girl on the staircase. You exited your apartment, closing the door and you leaned against it. You two stared at each other for a while before you spoke up.

“Do you like staring at strangers?” She didn't move but continued to stare at you. For the past week she had been always sitting at the staircase when you left or entered staring at you.

“Ok, which apartment do you live in-?” The door across the hall opened, and the man from the night before exited. He got caught off guard seeing you and looked a little surprised. He ignored you, and walked towards the staircase picking up the girl's hand and dragging her towards Lee’s apartment. He banged on the door, and a few seconds later a very upbeat Lee opened the door.

“Oh, Wolvy, got a hot date tonight?” Lee’s eyebrows went up, wiggling suggestively.

“Just watch her please.” He said gruffly, before pushing her lightly towards Lee. Lee sighed, turning back to look into her apartment and turning back to an annoyed ‘Wolvy’. He rolled his eyes, muttering to Lee about not calling him ‘Wolvy’. He turned around to leave and as he was going down the stairs his eyes met yours and then he was gone.

Before they both entered Lee’s apartment, the girl pulled Lee’s ear towards her mouth, whispering something in her ear. Lee burst out laughing before telling her a straightforward ‘No. Absolutely not.’. The girl just stared at her before Lee sighed, turning towards you.

“She wants to know-“ The girl growled, glaring at Lee. “I want to know if you’d like to join us for the evening.” You blinked, smiling.

“Of course, I would be delighted. You know-“ Lee shushed you.

“Just come on.”

Lee's apartment was exactly how you imagine it would be. Multiple posters of rock bands you didn’t know were decorated across every wall. There were multiple guitars and a set of drums in the corner of her living room. Her apartment was a mess but it seemed to suit her anxious state as she’d frantically ran around trying to clean up old Chinese takeout sitting on the counter and clean laundry on her couch.

“Just uh- sit on the floor.” Lee said as she ran to her room quickly. You and the little girl sat far away from each other, as you waited for Lee to come back. You looked at her, awkwardly smiling. She just stared at you, no emotions.

“So uh- how’s school?”

“She’s homeschooled!” Lee yelled from where she was and you clicked your tongue feeling embarrassed.

“How’s um homeschool?” She just kept staring, before she began to open her mouth to speak. Then Lee bounded into the room loudly, cutting her off.

“Ok what should my Halloween costume be, kid?” She was holding up two costumes, shaking them in front of the kid’s face.

“It’s August?” You questioned, and the girl smiled before she pointed at the one with Jean shorts and a black tank top.

“Exactly what I was thinking!” She yelled before running off to her room again. “Oh and her name is Laura!” She yelled from her room again and you nodded.

“Well, hello Laura.” You said before you told her your name, introducing yourself.

“Hi.” She said quietly, almost shyly. Lee then ran into the room again.

“Did she just talk to you?” She said, smiling at you. “That’s awesome! Logan is going to be psyched when he hears-“

Logan.

“Logan?”

“Her legal guardian. Y'know the big gruff dude that’s all ‘I’m big and angry because I’m lonely’” She said the last part in a deep voice and you laughed nodding your head.

“If he has Laura, why is he lonely?” You asked, but you knew what she meant.

“In all the years I’ve been here he’s never once brought a girl home. Ever. And I mean never.”

“Where does he go then?”

“To box.”

“Box?” Lee nodded, sitting on the ground next to Laura.

“He used to be this really big professional boxer. The Wolverine,” That tracked. “He got hurt real bad and just never went back. He’s just recently been training again. I guess that’s his release besides sex. Because the guy never gets puss-” She said before she laughed again and you looked at Laura embarrassed.

“Don’t worry she’s heard me say way worse things. Right, kid?” She said, ruffing her hair with her knuckles. Laura groaned, pushing her hand away.

“I’m not a kid.” She grumbled, glaring at Lee.

The rest of the night consisted of Lee and Laura arguing occasionally. Lee would make fun of Laura and then Laura would return that with a glare. You sat quietly in the corner, laughing at them. At the end of the night, the doorbell rang at around midnight and Laura and Lee were fast asleep while you were wide awake watching some cartoons with them.

You stood walking to the door, and opened it to find Logan looking less angry than before. He looked surprised to see you at the door, he must have been expecting Lee. He just stared at you, not saying a word, and you cleared your throat standing with the door open. You pointed your thumb at them.

“They’re sleeping.” You said before stepping outside, closing the door quietly. “Here for Laura?” You asked leaning against the door with your back. He stared at you for a second before he shook his head, like he was in a trance.

“Um, yeah.” He said, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. It wasn’t even cold outside. Yet he still wore that damn jacket. You stuck your hand out, telling him your name and his eyes widened before he reluctantly cupped your hand. His hands were large and rough, and they were bruised with red and purple slightly bleeding. You stopped shaking his hand, to grip it and bring it to your eyes.

“What happened to your hand?” He pulled his hand away fast, hiding it in his coat again. He got flustered, shaking his head.

“Work.” He replied shortly, and you hummed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Laura’s a great kid.” You said, motioning with your head inside the apartment to where Laura was fast asleep. He nodded, trying to hide a smile.

“Yeah. I know.”

“I can wake her if you want-“

“No, no she needs the sleep. I’ll just grab her.” You led Logan inside, and he carried Laura bridal style until you guys were outside Lee’s apartment again.

“I can open your door if you want.” You said, smiling invitingly at him. He stood there for a second before he nodded telling you that his keys were in his coat pocket. You moved closer to him, grabbing his keys, close enough to smell him. He smelled like leather and cedar wood, and you fought the urge to get closer. His head was turned the other way, away from you and you took the keys from his pocket following him to his apartment. You opened his door before letting Logan enter first, to go lay Laura down.

You stood outside for a moment, looking at the dark apartment through the open door, before you muttered fuck it walking inside. You set the keys on the kitchen counter, observing the layout. There were no lights on, and it was extremely cold. There wasn’t any decor from what you could see through the darkness, on furniture and utensils. It was also very clean, the opposite of Lee’s apartment. It looked like Logan didn’t have much to clean. Logan’s boots sounded and he found you standing at the kitchen counter, a shocked look on his face.

“Oh uh- sorry I just-“ You started to say, before Logan stopped you putting his hands up.

“No, it’s alright.” It was silent for a few seconds before Logan moved to turn the light on in the kitchen. It looks like you were taking up his offer after all.

“You can uh sit down if you want.” He pointed towards his brown leather couch in the center of the apartment and you closed his apartment door, before sitting down with a loud plop. He slowly sat down next to you, on the opposite end of the couch. It was awkwardly quiet again before you spoke.

“Is she your daughter?” You asked, turning your body towards him. He was silent for a moment and you were scared that you overstepped.

“No.” Was all he said and it was quiet once again. You nodded, getting that it was a sensitive topic.

“If you’re wondering, Laura asked me to come with them, for some reason.” You said, laughing quietly.

“Yeah, I noticed she’s been stalking you.” He said, turning to look at you for the first time. He looked away from you quickly, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry about what I said to you. The first night I met you- that was-“ You furrowed your eyebrows shaking your head.

“No, it didn’t bother me. I’m here now anyway.” You awkwardly laughed not realizing the meaning behind your words. Fuck. That’s not what you meant to say. You got slightly embarrassed, your cheeks feeling hot. He just kind of stared at you, swallowing roughly.

“It’s late um-“ You stood and he stood with you.

“Yeah.”

“Good night,” You paused to look at him. “Logan.”

The next morning was even more awkward. You left your apartment, to run to errands to find Logan leaving his apartment at the exact same time. You both stared at each other, before you said a quiet hello before trodding down the stairs.

The next two months consisted of both of you bumping into each other, awkwardly saying hello, before trying to avoid each other. It was kind of hard, you both arrived and left at the same time. You had day shifts and he always seemed to be leaving when you would arrive.

You were currently in Lee’s apartment, and she was eating a bowl of cheese puffs with chopsticks. You were sitting on her couch, chowing down on potato chips, watching her skeptically.

“And tell me why you’re eating with chopsticks?”

“My grandmother gave these to me!”

“And you’re using them for… Cheetos?”

“Yes.” She replied, before stuffing another cheese puff into her mouth.

“So what are you wearing to my Halloween party?” Lee asked, wiggling her eyebrows. You fought the urge to laugh at her, watching her mouth slowly become covered in orange dust.

“I’m not going.” You said, hugging your knees to your chest and setting the bag of chips down. Lee looked at you with a mouth open full of Cheetos.

“What?!” She yelled at you, throwing the chopsticks on the table near the couch.

“I don’t know. I’m not a partier-“

“There isn’t going to be that many people. Just like my band, the people in this complex, others-“

“That sounds like a lot. Besides, I haven't gone out since the divorce.”

“Exactly. That gives you all the reasons to go.” She was right of course. You hadn’t dressed up in months. You hadn’t felt confident since your ex-husband gave you those papers to file for a divorce. You groaned, flopping your belly on the couch.

“Fine. I’ll go. But, I’m not saying for long.” You said and her smile soon fell.

“Sure…what if I told you I could convince Logan to come?” She said, a mischievous look in her eyes.

“What about him?” You were acting like you didn’t know what she was talking about. You had been avoiding Logan for about two months after your awkward encounter. You told Lee about it and she told you he was always giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes. You laughed it off, but you kind of hoped he was.

“If I tell him you’re going he’ll definitely go.” You shook your head.

“I doubt it. He’s very…introverted and quiet.” You noticed how much he liked to be by himself. You wondered if it was by choice or not. He did have Laura, and that might’ve been all he needed.

“He’s lonely. A lonely old man who needs a release.” She said, sighing and sitting next to you again. Whenever she got excited about something she opted to stand when talking to you.

“So, you know my sister right? Complete opposite of me?” Lee had told you about her twin sister, Kim, and how she was a fashion designer. “Well, I sort of kind of told her to make you a costume.”

“A costume? I’m not twelve.” You said, slightly grumbling.

“But, that’s the fun!”

“Well, what costume is it?” Lee looked like she was holding her breath before she told you.

“A sexy devil.”

“Lee…”

“Come on! It'll be fun! I’m going to be Marilyn Manson-”

“Marilyn Manson? Really?”

“I already told Kim you'd wear it.”

“Lee!” You pushed her lightly, and she laughed as she fell on the couch.

The next thing you knew, it was the night of Lee’s infamous Halloween party. You were uncomfortably adjusting the latex suit Lee had given you. You had no idea just how slutty this costume was. It was incredibly tight in all the right places and was low-cut leaving no one any room for imagination. You accompanied it with black heels and two red devil horns on your head. God, what were you thinking?

Lee gasped, a loud squeal leaving her lips as she opened the door to find you standing there, playing with the top part of your outfit. She was wearing white face paint and black eyeliner to look like Marilyn Manson but she ended up looking like a Kiss member with her layered straight black hair and alternative outfit.

“Is this too much?” You asked, still adjusting. Lee pulled your hands away, her jaw at the floor.

“Damn mama! I see you! It's Halloween! Nothing is too much.” She said, pulling you into the apartment that was blasting music already. There were a few people present, not many faces you recognized except some people from downstairs. Lee quickly pulled you into the kitchen, and handed you a red solo cup with some sort of neon green liquid. You both leaned against the counter-top.

“Okay, so I did some convincing and I’m most certain Logan will be here tonight. Probably to steal a beer and leave but, that's better than nothing. Mrs. Baker downstairs is taking the kid trick-or-treating.” You still didn't understand why Lee always told you about Logan’s whereabouts. It’s not like you cared. You somewhat cared. You always found yourself looking back at his apartment every time you left or entered your own apartment. He was only across the hall. One door away. You nodded, trying to seem nonchalant about it, as you took a sip out of the drink in your hand and quickly started to cough.

“What the fuck is in here?” You asked, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Tequila, tequila and more tequila. And a drop of green food coloring.” You laughed lightly, before setting the cup back on the counter.

“Yeah, I'll pass.”

Soon enough, the apartment was filled with about 30 or so people. Not a lot, but there were a ton of people in Lee’s small apartment. You had been sitting on her couch for the past hour watching people come and go. You were bored out of your mind. You didn't know anybody besides Lee, and she was busy mingling with her guests. You stood up from the couch, about to leave for the door, when a certain neighbor entered the party.

Logan didn’t see you at first as he scanned the partygoers. He kept his head low as he entered, probably not wanting to draw any attention to himself. You watched as he made a bee-line for the kitchen and you followed him into the empty room. You found him tucked below the fridge as you entered, probably looking for a beer. You spoke up as he was moving things around, still searching.

“The beer’s in the cooler over there.” He jumped up, hitting his head on the top of the fridge as he turned around to find you standing there. He said nothing as he stared at you, his eyes moving up and down your figure in that costume. He swallowed loudly, before he looked around to find the cooler, pulling a beer can out of it and cracking it open. He took a long sip, his eyes falling upon you again. You were still standing there staring at him. He wasn't wearing a jacket but a regular t-shirt and you realized this was the first time you had ever seen his arms. And you couldn't stop staring at them as he took swigs from his can of beer.

You quickly decided to distract yourself by grabbing a red solo cup and filling it with whatever god awful concoction Lee had made. You took a sip before you moved to stand on the same side as Logan, hopping on top of the counter to sit. It was quiet again between the two of you, even though Logan had not spoken a word yet, and the only sound was the drowned out music in the background. You both were fairly close to each other, about as thigh’s width apart. He was leaning his back against the counter while you were sitting upon it. You turned towards him, hiding your smile below your cup as you took a sip.

“So, what's your costume?” You asked, as he stiffened slightly, taking another long sip from his beer before slamming it on the counter and grabbing another one from the cooler.

“The Wolverine.” He said, cracking open the can and you swore you saw him smirk a bit before taking a sip. You snorted, taking a gulp from your own drink.

“Can you guess what I am?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, gesturing with your hands at your costume. His head turned to look at you, scanning your frame and the way it sat atop the counter.

“Yourself?” He asked, turning his head away from you and hiding his smile beneath his beer can. His hands were gripping the beer can and you couldn't help but stare at them. They were large and thick, almost encompassing the can whole beneath his grip. You shook the thoughts away.

“Funny!” You said, narrowing your eyes. You both sat in comfortable silence, sipping on your drinks when you turned to him again, your body facing his. “What made you come?” You asked innocently. He took another long gulp from his beer before answering.

“Lee begged me to come. I wasn’t going to take the kid out trick-or-treating just because well… I just never have. Mrs…” He paused as if to remember her name.

“Baker?”

“Yeah her… she asked to take her this year because her grandchildren weren’t coming.” He took another sip from his beer before setting it on the counter.

“What made you come?” He asked, turning his head to look at you.

“Lee insisted.” You said, laughing as Logan shook his head. Just then, as if you summoned her, Lee barged into the kitchen, laughing as she did. You and Logan both jumped, turning to look at her quickly. She stopped laughing as soon as she saw you both.

“I knew it!” She screamed, running back out into the party. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning back to Logan to see him grabbing a third beer from the cooler. You downed the last bit of your drink, before hopping off the counter and Logan looked up at you, his eyebrows raised.

“I’ll uh- see you around?” You said, leaning against the counter.

“You leavin’?” He asked, setting the unopened can of beer on the counter, his hand next to it as he leaned. You didn’t realize how close he was until you could feel his breath on your neck. He was staring at the uncovered spot on your neck, as he spoke to you.

“Yeah- I have work tomorrow and-“

“So?” Why was he so adamant? You tilted your head, smirking at him.

“Do you want me to stay?” Say it. You wanted him to say it so bad. You wanted him to tell you to stay, to go back to his apartment. But he didn’t. He just shook his head, moving away from you and a frown made its way on your face. You sighed, slightly annoyed.

“Tell Laura happy Halloween.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest and leaving the kitchen, leaving Logan alone with his beer. You didn’t even look at him before you left. Why was he always making insinuations but never acting on them?

The next few weeks you had been ignoring him whenever he looked to you across the hallway. He looked hurt, but you didn’t care. You were so annoyed. But you didn’t know why.

Your boss had recently put you behind the bar, assigning you to later shifts. And one particular night, the neighbor across the hall was now at a stool in front of you. You were pouring a bourbon for a regular across the bar, you looked up for a second meeting the eyes of Logan who was watching you intensely. Your mouth fell open and you jumped slightly not expecting to see him at all.

“I didn’t know you worked here.” That was a complete lie. Logan had actually known for weeks that you worked here. You ignored him, walking across the bar to hand your customer their drink. You hastily returned to Logan, a beer in your hand. You set it in front of him and his eyebrows went up, taking the bottle into his hands. He was about to say something else when another customer to your left rang out.

“Hey, sweetheart! Another one?” The man jiggled his empty beer bottle in the air and your face visibly dropped, your shoulders stiffening. Logan noticed, perking up to look at the man across the bar. You clenched your jaw, forcing a sweet polite smile on your face as you turned to the drunken man.

“Sure thing.” You muttered, keeping your voice steady but Logan’s gaze lingered on you as you moved around to grab another beer. Logan took a long swig from his drink, before setting it on the counter still staring at the oblivious man across the bar. When you gave the man his beer, he winked at you making your skin crawl. Logan’s hand tightened around the empty beer bottle when you turned around oblivious to the man very obviously staring at your ass.

“What the fuck you looking at pal?” The man snarled at Logan and Logan growled deeply.

“Mind your business, bub.” He said grimly, and the man at the bar stood abruptly. Logan was staring straight on at the man his hand clenched tightly around the neck of the bottle until-

Crack!

The bottle split open, falling into Logan’s palm and onto the counter of the bar. Glass was all over his hands and he was slightly bleeding. Your mouth fell open, and you rushed to grab a rag from underneath the bar. You appeared back in front of Logan as he looked up at you. You sighed loudly, grabbing his hand and wrapping the white cloth around his wounds.

“What the fuck?” You muttered quietly, still holding his hand. He didn’t shy away from you or move away. He just swallowed harshly as you held his bleeding palm. “How did you do that?” You let go of his hand sighing, and walking around the bar to meet Logan. You turned to face the kitchen as you stood next to Logan.

“I’m taking my break now!” You shouted, cupping your hands over your mouth and grabbing Logan by the hand out the back door towards an alleyway. Logan didn’t even have time to react before you were harshly pulling him by his uninjured hand towards the back door. You exited the door slamming it shut before shoving Logan down on a crate.

“What the fuck, Logan?” Logan was confused why you were upset, and you anxiously paced in front of him digging your fingers through your hair.

“You’re mad at me?”

“Yes! Why the fuck are you here?” Logan didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know why he was there. He was there for a drink, that was it. At least that’s what he told himself. He found out weeks ago where you worked. He hadn’t worked up the courage to see you. Until now.

“I…” You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping you.

“See you never seem to have an answer do you?”

“An answer for what exactly?”

You stopped pacing, narrowing your eyes at him. The tension was thick, thicker than the cold November breeze that rang through the tight alleyway. You tried to keep your emotions in check. You tried so hard. But you couldn’t. It was hard when you were so angry. So mad. And for what? Because Logan had been avoiding you? Because you did the same? Truly what were you mad about? A second later your voice betrayed you, as if it had a mind of its own.

“Do you not get it?”

Logan froze. Logan looked down at his hands, softly raising the hand that you had put a rag on, blood softly soaking through. The hand you had touched so delicately. So softly that he wanted you to touch it again. Touch him again.

“Why did you get so angry back there?”

Logan looked up at you, flexing his hands into a tight fist, his biceps pulsing through his flannel.

“I don’t like seeing women getting disrespected-“

“No, Logan. What really made you angry?”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed as you kneeled, getting on his level in front of him as he sat on the crate. You set your hands in your lap, peering up at him questionably. Awaiting an answer. A part of you knew exactly why he was so angry. You just wanted him to say it out loud. You needed him to say it out loud.

“I was…” He stopped talking as you tilted your head, shaking it tightly, disapproving of his trailed off sentence. You rose, now sitting up on your knees gazing at Logan. You moved closer to him, now right in front of his face.

“What made you so mad? Was it that another man wanted to touch me? Look at my ass? Another man wanted me? Is that it, Logan?” You purred, and Logan growled at the thought. It made him furious. You smiled, clicking your tongue. “I see…”

“No man should be touching you…”

“But…?” You trailed off, waiting for him to finish. You moved closer to his face, your breath panning over his cheek and Logan shuddered the closer you moved towards him. Logan didn’t know why he wanted to be closer to you. To feel you. You were so close. So close that he could feel your steady breathing, he could feel the heat as it radiated from your body, he could smell the perfume you wore every single day. The perfume that had haunted him for months. The perfume he chased in the halls, waiting to smell it. He wanted to smell that smell forever. He swallowed roughly, inching towards you.

“But…”

The back door slammed open, and your boss appeared calling your name.

“Your break’s over! Stop fucking the drunk-“ You stood quickly, awkwardly standing next to Logan who looked slightly embarrassed as he looked the opposite way from your boss.

“He cut his hand. I was just-“

“I don’t give a fuck. Come do your job.” Your boss slammed the door shut, and you sighed walking towards it. You started to open it, but paused to look back at Logan. You gave him a small smile, which he didn’t return.

“I’ll see you.” And you pulled the door shut behind you, entering the bar as Logan sat on that crate only thinking of his neighbor across the hall.

a/n: lmk if you guys enjoyed this and if i should write more (possibly smut). itll be a two parter, maybe three im not too sure! i love hearing feedback so please let me know! :) i love the soft side of logan and especially showing that soft side of him because of laura.

cross-posted on ao3:

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 5.5

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, introspection

series masterlist │my masterlist

“did you mean it? when you said you would want me even if i was more like,” a pause, “like an animal?”

you hum, cuddling further into his side, chasing the warmth of shared body heat. “of course. i kind of miss it, actually. there’s something weirdly attractive about you acting on just pure instinct, you know?”

he doesn’t know, actually. his entire life he’s been told to behave in a certain way - there were those who wanted him to be an animal, a violent killer with no human morals or thoughts to interfere with his orders, and those who told him he needed to reign in the feral aspects of his mutation, who called him a monster for the way he was born.

even amongst mutants he wasn’t always treated well. they had interesting abilities, beautiful things that belonged in movies or books or fairytale stories. they could control the elements and create things from practically nothing, while he only knew how to destroy. he brought chaos and bloodshed everywhere he went.

he was the kind of mutant that made people uncomfortable, the kind of mutant people saw as a freak of nature, a mistake. people like him were the reason mutants would never be accepted within society. he was too violent, too dangerous, too much of a threat.

they would fight for mutant rights, but turn right around and tell him to hide who he was, to be gentle or kind or better, whatever they decided that meant. because his nature made everyone uncomfortable.

and he understood that. because logan hated himself as much, if not more, than they all seemed to hate him. he’s always hated his instincts, hated how it made him feel, hated the way he felt that he couldn’t always control himself, hated what they made him.

so he’s always hidden parts of himself, never fully revealing who he is to anyone. in return, he finds people who love him, or at least who claim that they do, and the need for acceptance that presses down on his heart lessens into a bearable weight.

it was why he’d been so ashamed when he’d started to regain his memories, flashes of his past showing up in his dreams. for months he’d acted on his natural instincts with you, every lesson he’s ever been taught temporarily erased from his mind. he’d allowed himself to be wild, feral, a disgusting beast that doesn’t qualify as human. a monster.

and yet here you are, telling him that you find it attractive, smiling at him as if he hasn’t spent his entire life running from himself, being hunted down for his mutation for one reason or another, either to kill or to use. he’s a weapon to some, an uncontrollable animal to others, a mutant to be trained for a new purpose every time someone new finds him.

but to you, he’s just logan.

you don’t run or hide from what he is, you accept him with open arms. and that’s terrifying, the trust that you’ve placed in him, because all he’s ever done is hurt people, and you have absolutely no defences, nothing to protect you when he inevitably fucks up again.

he doesn’t think he’ll be able to let go of everything he’s taught himself just like that, let go of the control he’s spent centuries honing and perfecting to allow his instincts to crawl to the forefront of his mind. not after so long. but it physically hurts him to hold back at times, and the thought that maybe he’s finally found a place where he doesn’t need to deal with that pain, a place where he doesn’t need to hide - it makes the constant ache in his chest lessen just the slightest bit.

he’s still traumatised and plagued with horrible memories, anger still runs in his veins like blood, but all of that feels easier to cope with when he kisses and bites at your neck, scenting you, claiming you. and you let him, giggling with your hands in his hair.

your scent is happy, bright and warm like a sunny afternoon. he’s making you happy like this, the animal in him is making you happy like this.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[slamminslamminmcgill]

somehow i, a fat tboy, didn't think of the potential of chubby chaser logan until that one ask. chat do we think he'd bite onto the fat of your cunt while eating you out y/n

he would bite everywhere

starting at the very top of you. your lips, your tongue, your ears, your neck,

“aw, so cute for me… yeah, keep whining like that, pretty boy.”

your chest, your nipples, your tummy,

“look at you. on your back, legs in the air, tongue hanging out like a needy li’l pup. fuckin’ precious.”

sinking his teeth into your juicy thighs, scraping his teeth along the meat of your fat, puffy, boycunt. his hot breath ghosting over the seam of your lips, a puff barely tickles your aching clit. you groan and reach for his hair, but he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“nope. i’m in charge here. not you.”

it’s a few agonizing seconds of him prodding you, spreading your chubby outer lips to get a better view. he whistles at the sight of your leaking, preening hole.

“mm, mm, mm…”

he slaps it,

“fuck!”

hooks his arms around your hips,

and dives in.

slurping, lips smacking lips, drooling, oozing pussy juice, stubbled cheeks slipping across your sloppy slit. nibbling your clit as he sucks it. grabbing his hair and fucking your t-cock against his tongue. he lifts up your legs just a little higher so he can bite your ass cheeks and rim you too. you let out the sweetest little cry at first contact, and that cocky bitch is laughing at you with his tongue pressed up your ass