#and it looks like there’s a hint of a smile on Logan’s face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

selfcarecap · 13 days

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Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask.

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #james logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #selfcarecap

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d1stalker · 25 days

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A Peaceful Repose [Logan Howlett]

Summary: After some time away on a mission, Logan comes home, and all he wants to do is be around you

Warnings: clingy logan, showering together, sooo much fluff WC: 1.6k - MASTERLIST

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The door of your apartment slowly creaks open, followed by the sound of a familiar, heavy tread against the wooden floor. Your heart skips a beat, in both relief and excitement—Logan’s back.

But as he steps into the room, the sight of him makes you pause. He looks every bit as exhausted as you imagined, but it’s more than that. His clothes are torn and stained with dirt and dried blood, and a faint, musty smell of sweat and grime clings to him. His normally fierce gaze is dulled with fatigue, and the well-kept scruff on his face has grown wilder, more unkempt.

Your nose wrinkles slightly as you take in the full picture. “Logan…” you start, hesitating as he drops his bag on the floor with a loud thud. He catches your expression, and despite everything, he smirks, though it’s softer than usual, his eyes gleaming as they meet yours.

“Missed you,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly and rough, but filled with a warmth that makes your heart swell.

“I missed you too,” you reply, stepping forward to close the distance between you. He reaches out, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you close despite the state he’s in. The embrace is tight, almost desperate, and you feel the stiffness in his muscles, the way his body seems to sag against yours, as if holding you is the only thing keeping him upright. And as much as you want to melt into him, as much as you want to rest your head on his shoulder and breathe in his scent, the feel of the grit against your skin pulls you back.

“Logan, you need a shower.” Your voice gently chides as you lean back to look up at him, your hands smoothing over his chest before you brush a lock of hair away from his forehead, your fingers grazing the sweat-dampened strands.

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest as he holds you, the warmth of his breath fanning across your cheek. “I just wanna hold you,” he grumbles, his face nuzzling into your hair.

You tilt your head back a bit, giving him a fond, but pointed look. “Not like this, you don’t,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek before wrinkling your nose again. “Seriously, babe, you stink.”

His mouth quirks into a tired, yet genuine smile, a rare sight that always makes your heart flutter. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he mutters, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

“Go on,” you urge, giving him a gentle nudge toward the washroom.

But Logan doesn’t move right away. Instead, he gives you a look, one that’s almost boyish in its vulnerability. “Can you come with me?” he asks, almost begging. “I’ve missed you… a lot.”

The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes seem to plead with you, makes it impossible to refuse. You sigh, pretending to be more exasperated than you are, but the truth is, you’ve missed him just as much. “Alright, alright,” you relent, rolling your eyes playfully. “We’ll get cleaned up.”

A hint of relief washes over his features as he takes your hand, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as you lead him toward the bathroom. Once inside, you turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the steam begins to rise around you.

You turn to face him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palms. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” you say softly, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

His hands cover yours, guiding them as he helps you pull the fabric over his head, his gaze never leaving your face. You can’t help but notice the remnants of bruises and cuts scattered across his body, and your heart aches to see him like this, knowing the toll the mission must have taken on him.

When he’s finally undressed, you shed your clothes quickly and step into the shower. Logan wraps his arms around your waist as he presses his forehead against yours, eyes closing as he takes in the moment.

The warm water cascades over both of you, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, each breath syncing with your own. There’s a stillness between you, a moment suspended in time where nothing else exists but the two of you.

“God, I missed this,” he murmurs affectionately, gazing down at you with a quiet longing.

“Me too,” you echo your voice barely above a whisper as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy of the moment. You reach for the soap, lathering it between your hands, the bubbles forming quickly as the scent of fresh citrus fills the air.

Logan watches you with an almost reverent expression as you begin to work the soap across his chest, your fingers tracing the hard lines of his muscles. His skin, though scarred and battered, is warm beneath your touch, the tension slowly melting away under the soothing rhythm of your hands.

He lets out a low, contented hum as you wash him, his eyes slipping closed as he leans into your touch. “That feels good,” he breathes, the words rumbling through his chest.

You smile quietly, taking your time as you work your way across his torso, roaming every inch of him. When you reach his shoulders, you pause, stepping a little closer so you can run your hands up the back of his neck and into his hair, your fingers gently massaging his scalp.

The sound he lets out is almost a groan, and you can feel his body relax even further as your fingers work through the tangles in his hair. You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. It’s a lazy, unhurried gesture, one that speaks of comfort, and Logan responds immediately, turning his head slightly to capture your lips.

The kiss is slow, achingly slow, devoid of the usual urgency or passion, but instead filled with something deeper—love, trust, and a profound sense of belonging. His lips are warm and soft against yours, and you find yourself sighing at the familiar taste of him.

When you finally pull back, your breath mingles with his, and he opens his eyes to meet yours. He doesn’t say anything, but his hands slide from your waist up to your back, pulling you so close into his orbit that there’s no space left between you. He holds you like this, his chin resting on the top of your head as the water continues to pour over both of you. It’s not about desire, but rather a need to feel you close, to reassure himself that you’re here, safe and sound in his arms.

You continue to wash him, your hands moving slowly and gently over his body, lathering his hair with care as the water rinses away the grime of the mission. Every so often, Logan presses a soft kiss to your forehead or the top of your head, small gestures of affection that make your heart ache with how much you love him.

As you wash the soap from his hair, you reach up to run your fingers through it one last time, making sure it’s clean. You notice his eyes are half-closed as his head begins to droop down toward your shoulder.

“You’re going to fall asleep standing up,” you tease gently, running your hands down his chest before stepping back to grab the showerhead, directing the water over his shoulders and back.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs thickly with drowsiness. “You’ve got magic hands.”

After you’ve both rinsed off, you turn off the shower and reach for a towel, wrapping it around yourself before grabbing one for Logan. He takes it from you with a small, grateful smile, quickly drying off before he wraps the towel around his waist. But before you can do the same, he brings you into his arms again, his damp skin cool against yours as he holds you close.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, his voice low and soft as he leads you towards the bed. He pulls back the covers, and the two of you climb in, still damp from the shower. Logan pulls you close, his strong arms encircling you as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck.

The scent of fresh soap and clean skin fills the air, and you can feel the last bits of tension leaving his body as he settles into the bed, his breathing evening out as the warmth of your embrace soothes him.

“You’re warm,” he mumbles.

“So are you,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Your fingers trace soothing circles on his back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Logan hums in satisfaction, his arms tightening around you as he presses closer.

“You’re my everything,” he whispers.

You turn in his arms so you can face him, your hand resting against his chest. “And you’re mine,” you whisper back, your thumb brushing over his heart in a slow, soothing motion.

In the quiet of the room, the only sound is the steady rhythm of Logan’s breathing and the faint thump of his heartbeat beneath your hand. You feel completely safe, completely loved, wrapped up in his arms, and you know that he feels the same.

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you hear is his voice, low and filled with affection. “Don’t ever leave me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“Never,” you assure. “I’ll always be here.”

Logan lets out a deep, contented sigh, pressing a final kiss to your temple. And as the warmth of his embrace lulls you into sleep, you can’t help but think about how you were always meant to be here, by his side.

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awxcoffeexno · 1 month

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ain't gon' ever deserve you

mutant!loganhowlett x human!reader one shot

fic masterlist | nsfw claw worship

summary: logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve.

content: mostly family-friendly claw worship. logan believes in the animal accusations but reader fixes it. reader is human, logan and reader have an established and v loving relationship, lots of reassurance and comforting for logan.

warnings: logan has nightmares, mentions of blood, logan self-hate, family-friendly knife play??????.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: listen, claw worship has been on my mind for a looooooong time. I'm too chicken to put up any of my nsfw writing yet so here's an sfw version with affirmations for poor baby lo-lo. also this is super inspired by logan and kayla's relationship and even uses some quotes from them.

you're deep asleep, dreaming of everything and nothing when you feel the sudden sharp sting in your arm.

eyes flying open, you open your mouth to hiss in pain but logan's lips are at your ear, snarling and grunting in his sleep again.

you look down to find his claws out, the metal tips digging into your arm. you exhale sharply, watching the warm blood seep down your arm and onto the new white sheets.

"no! n– no!" he growls, and you're forced to bite your lip as you try to pull away from his vice grip. when that doesn't work, you sink your nails into his arm.

"logan–"

"victor, NO!" he screams and sits up, yanking his claws from your arm and stabbing at the air in front of him.

victor creed. logan's brother and the bane of his existence. victor who haunts his dreams every single night, victor whose name you can never forget, victor who is now the reason logan's hurt you.

you sit up with him, aching for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. the burning pain in your arm an afterthought, you hear him swallow and gently let out a breath. he's sticky with sweat and the dry radiator air in the room isn't helping, the moon glowing through your glass walls, creating a halo around his head.

"nightmare." you state, letting him catch his breath and take in his surroundings.

he nods even though what you said wasn't a question but a statement. he twists around and pulls you into his lap, hugging you like he does near every night – chin tucked into your shoulder, arms wrapped all the way around your torso. he smells of soap and cigar smoke and the faintest hint of your shampoo. you smile to yourself and press a kiss to his hair.

"you're so cute." you mutter and a small smile spreads across his lips.

"cute?" he repeats, amused. "that's new." he pulls you closer, further down his lap and you can feel his heartbeat start to steady again.

"you used my shampoo again, and don't you deny it this time."

he scowls at you but lets you kiss him anyway. "reminds me of you," he sighs when he realises you won't stop until he admits it.

"but i'm right here," you giggle, running your thumb over the shell of his ear.

he opens his mouth to explain further but that's when he smells it. the blood he's drawn from your arm in his nightmare-fuelled anger at victor. his jaw tightens as he looks for the source of blood, finding three uniform slices on the outside of your forearm.

"no," he gasps, a thousand emotions crossing his eyes.

you try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, the blood running down your arm now. "hey... i'm okay."

"like fuck you are," he snarls, angry at himself.

how could he have possibly hurt you?! was this a thing now?? was he a danger to you even in his sleep?! god, he'll have to put you to sleep and then figure out a way to declaw himself. maybe if he just slices the back of his palms open–

"james..." you break him out of his thoughts, hand on his cheek. "baby, i'm okay. really. it looks worse than it feels."

"i'm going to rip these out." he whispers, holding his fists up, the back of his palms facing you. his words are as much a promise to you as a command to himself.

you grab his fists and glare at him. he blinks at your expression, looking at you over his hands.

"don't you dare say anything of the sort. these are a gift."

"a gift," he scoffs, "you can return a gift."

"these are a gift," you repeat sternly. "and i will not let you do anything to them."

he opens his mouth to protest but you aren't done. how dare he even think of hurting himself, of declawing himself when you love his claws as much as you love every last part of him.

you run your fingers over the back of his palms and whisper, "take them out."

"sweetheart..."

"take them out, my love" you repeat, kissing his knuckles because you know it hurts every time he does.

he carefully and very very slowly bares them and you look at him from between the blades.

not breaking eye contact, you lean in and press a soft kiss to the base of the middle claw on his right hand. you catch him shuddering and your eyes widen in surprise.

"you felt that?"

you can see him redden even in the dark. "'course i did," he grunts.

"what does it feel like?" you ask, fascinated. everyday you learn something new about him and it never fails to delight you.

you kiss the base of another claw on the other hand and see him inhale sharply.

he groans deeply, humming to come up with the right words. "like... you're stroking every nerve in me to life."

that makes you sit up on your haunches and wrap your fingers around his wrists. he freezes, bracing himself to yank the claws back in the second he thinks you might hurt yourself on the sharp ends. you carefully lick along the length of the claw between his pinky and ring finger on his right hand, making him exhale shakily.

"tryna kill me, sugar?" he says through gritted teeth, every muscle in his body tense.

"trying to show you how much i love your claws, lo. even if they hurt sometimes."

you loop your right hand between both of his, gently pressing the tip of your thumb against the sharp end of a claw. you run your finger up the blade, making him whine in protest as you draw blood.

his eyes implore you, pleading, but you simply take your hand up to his mouth, pressing your bleeding thumb against his lips. he relents, sucking it into his warm mouth and licking it clean.

"logan?" you whisper and he hums around your thumb.

despite the heat in your core, pooling between your legs, you need him to hear this. you'll have time to fulfil that need later.

"every part of you means everything to me. but your claws, especially your claws, have the most special place in my heart. they protect me. they make you feel good. and most of all, they're fucking cool."

and that finally makes him crack a smile again.

"y'think so?"

"mhmm."

"c'mere." he says finally, pulling his claws back in and tugging you back into his lap.

he makes you straddle him and kisses you warmly. he looks into your eyes with such fondness, it squeezes your heart. carefully he pulls his first claw out on his right hand and uses it to gently push your hair out of your eyes. your eyes flutter shut in response, leaning into his metal touch.

he brushes the back of the claw across your cheek and your lips part prettily for him. the air doesn't feel so thick anymore, the quiet humming of the refrigerator in the kitchen not overwhelming him the way it was when he snapped awake.

ever so carefully, pushing his own boundaries, he turns his wrist and pushes the flat of his claw onto your tongue. it's warm and tastes of him, salty and musky and like metal.

"that okay for you, pretty girl?" he mumbles and you can hear the strain in his voice. he's terrified but he so badly wants to be brave for you.

you wrap your lips around the claws and suck softly in response, drawing a groan of pleasure from him.

he shudders beneath you, every inch of him tense and trembling with restraint. you slide your tongue along the metal, tracing the edge of his claw with reverence, savoring the taste of him.

logan’s breath catches in his throat, and you feel the warmth of his exhale ghost across your face. his other hand, free of the adamantium blades, finds its way to your waist, gripping you tightly.

"god," he breathes out, voice rough and filled with a raw vulnerability you hear only at night. "you have no idea what you do to me."

you slowly release his claw from your mouth, letting it slide out with a deliberate slowness that has him biting back another groan. his eyes are locked on you, dark with need.

you reach up, cupping his face with your now clean thumb, and brush your lips against his in a featherlight kiss. "i think i do," you whisper against his mouth. "i want you to feel how much i love every part of you, logan. even the parts that scare you."

his claws retract with a soft snikt, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

"you're something else, darlin'," he murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. you can feel the smile playing on his lips. "you make me feel... whole."

you nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. "and you make me feel safe," you reply, closing your eyes and letting the furnace heart of his presence envelop you. "always."

you feel his grip tighten, his hand trembling slightly against your waist. he's always been the warrior, the weapon, the animal, but here in your arms, he's just logan, just a man who’s been through more pain than anyone should endure.

"people see the claws and think i’m nothing but a beast," he murmurs, his voice thick with self-doubt. "like i’m more metal than man. they look at me and all they see is the damage i can do."

you pull back just enough to look into his eyes, your hands framing his face. he tries to look away, but you won’t let him. you press a soft kiss to his brow, then his cheek, and finally, to the corner of his mouth.

"they don’t make you an animal," you whisper, your voice even and filled with conviction. "they make you strong. they’re not just weapons, they’re part of what makes you you."

his breath hitches at your words, and you feel him struggle against the years of conditioning, the years of being told that he’s nothing more than a killing machine. but you won’t let those words hold power over him anymore.

you reach down, gently taking his right hand in yours. with care, you press a kiss to each knuckle, feeling the warmth of his skin under your lips. then, you look up at him and slowly, deliberately, coax his claws out again.

you run your fingers lightly over the metal, tracing the curves and edges with the same care you’d give to a delicate piece of art.

logan watches you, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, something like awe. "you don’t see me like everyone else does," he says, almost to himself.

"no," you agree, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of one of his claws. "i see you, logan. the real you. and what i see is a man who’s fought for so long to protect the people he loves, even when it’s cost him everything. your claws, they’re not just about hurting or fighting. they’re about protecting. they’re about survival. and they’re about who you have been for so long."

his chest rises and falls with each breath, the tension slowly easing from his body as your words sink in. for once, he doesn’t feel like an animal. he feels like a man, just a man. and it's nice.

"besides," you say, tone lightening. "so you really think I'm such a baby i can't handle three little cuts?"

you both know you're underplaying it and though he would never admit it in the day, the moonlight across his face betrays his grateful expression. it's easier to believe that he hasn't hurt you too much when you're saying it yourself.

you lower his hand, resting it against your chest, over your heart.

he swallows hard, holding you as if he’s afraid to let go. "ain't gon' ever deserve you," he whispers, his voice thick.

"you deserve everything," you murmur back, holding him just as tightly. "and i’m going to keep reminding you of that, every day."

for a moment, he’s silent, just holding you close. then, in a voice that’s barely more than a whisper, he says, "you almost make me feel human, darlin’."

you pull back just enough to kiss him again, only because you know he'd much rather feel than hear. your kiss is slow and tender, letting him feel the truth in your touch.

he doesn’t say anything more, but the way he kisses you back, the way he holds you, tells you everything you need to know.

he'll be okay. you'll make him okay. you gently push him to lie down and rest your head on his chest.

you love him, you love how he wants so badly to believe you, and most of all, you fucking love his claws.

this stemmed from a very nsfw thought™ but here we are, all warm and fuzzy. a mostly non-angsty fic is new for me!!

hope you liked this x

love, d <3

edit: i wrote an nsfw claw worship fic too 🤠🤝🏽 >> unholy

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine angst #logan howlett angst #logan howlett xmen #xmen #xmen fanfiction

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loonylupinblack3 · 5 months

Text

Cold

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Warnings: slightly suggestive content

Summary: it's cold and you decide to go exploring for a heated blanket. you find logan instead.

Word Count: 1.5k

It was cold.

You were fucking freezing, shivering even under your piles of blankets. It was this stupid house, giant though it was, with shit heating. So when one of the kids fucked up and damaged the already extremely fragile heating, it broke. In the middle of winter.

You groaned, curling even further in on yourself, trying to keep any heat you’d formulated from escaping. Stupid house. Stupid cold. Stupid useless blankets. You wracked your brain for anything else you could get to find you some more warmth because you could not go on like this. You were jealous of all the mutants in the house with fire or heat mutations, or those with partners to sleep with, comfortable in each other's warmth.

You sat up when you remembered it. The electric blanket Storm had gotten as a gift a few years back lay discarded in one of the shelves in the kitchen, hidden in a box unopened. If you could get that, connect it to the outlet next to your bed, well…. You’d actually be able to sleep tonight.

It took you a while to actually build up the courage to leave your bed and your warmth, however slim it may be. When you did you were assaulted with the cold, more than twice as bad without your blankets. Not to say you weren’t already layered, with your winter pyjamas and hoodie, but still. It was cold.

You travelled down the long hallways and through the massive house, trying to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible. The torch in your hand shook slightly from your shivers, but you promised yourself it would all be worth it when you went back to your room with the toasty heated blanket.

You’d told yourself you’d be in and out, with the electric blanket in your room in no time, yet you stopped short when you saw the light on in the kitchen, and Logan leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand.

Your heart gave a lurch, which immediately gave you away, Logan’s eyes darting to you. You gave a nervous smile, sort of just… standing there. You’d had a minor crush on Logan for a while now, very low key. No one even knew about it; it was so minor. Just…. The playful banter you two had, and his looks, they appealed to you. Still, it was minor, and usually you were much more composed around him, but you were tired and cold and your defences were down.

“Logan,” you said, stepping forwards. “What are you doing here?”

Logan watched you intently, eyes roving your body as he sipped his beer. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you Darl?”

You tried not to smile at the nickname, rubbing your arms in an attempt to create more warmth. “I was cold.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “So you came looking for company?”

Heat rushed to your face at the suggestion, as did Logan’s intent gaze as if he was eager to fill the role. You cleared your throat. “No, um, there’s a heated blanket in one of the cupboards.”

Again Logan raised his eyebrows with an amused expression. “Is there now?”

You felt a smile stretch on your face, even though you fought it. You rolled your eyes at him. “Yes, there is.”

He placed his beer on the counter and moved forwards. “Well now you’ve got to show me this blanket, because otherwise I’ll be believing you came here for me.”

The flirty tone in his voice made you flush even more, but you kept your cool, observing him with a calm expression, only a hint of a smile on your face now. “Alright then.”

You walked to the cupboard on the left, rummaging through it. Your memory was a little fuzzy but you were sure Storm had put it in here. Logan watched you with a smirk, beer forgotten as he leant against the counter.

You shot him a glare. “Aren’t you cold?”

In nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, you’d be shivering uncontrollably at that point, barely able to form a coherent thought let alone a sentence. Logan seemed fine though, not a single goosebump on his skin. More than fine actually, if his entertained smirk was anything to go by.

“Helpful side of the regeneration,” Logan said, “keeps my body temp normal no matter what.”

He stepped forward till he was standing over you, watching you intently. “Now, where’s that blanket bub?”

You cleared your throat, standing up. “Must be in one of the other cupboards.”

He made an ‘ah’ sound as you quickly moved onto a different cupboard, all the while feeling yourself get colder and colder. Yet as you continued to search, you came up empty handed, the blanket having disappeared all together.

You were relentless though, because the thought of Logan thinking you came down there for him… well, you weren’t sure you’d be able to look him in the eye again if that happened. So you continued looking fruitlessly, all the while feeling the cold wrap its icy claws around you.

“Alright, you’re getting cold, admit defeat yeah?” Logan asked after watching you nearly drop an item because of how bad your hands were shaking.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

He let out a scoff. “You’re certainly not fine. Come on now.”

His hand gently grabbed your shoulder, pulling you back from the cupboards. You turned around to stare at him, slightly panicked. “I didn’t come down here to take you to bed. I promise.”

Logan let out a laugh, his arms draped loosely around your waist. “I know that bub, I was just playing.”

You looked up at him, slightly embarrassed, though the cold ensured you didn’t focus on it too much. “Well…. As long as you know.”

Logan gave a rueful nod. “I know, but I’d have liked it if you did take me there.”

You nearly let out a baffled gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes. You two had your fun, but you’d never been this forward with each other before. “What?”

“Well, you’re cold,” he said, “and there’s no heated blanket. I’d hate for you to go back to your room just to be cold again.”

You couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Oh so you're doing me a favour are you?”

Logan shrugged, a smirk on his face. “You could say that. Or you could say I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time and I’m finally doing something about it.”

“Oh?”

Logan’s arms around your waist tightened, pulling you to his chest. You revelled in the warmth of having a human’s body against yours, the heat radiating from him a welcome comfort.

“Yes, oh,” Logan replied, grinning at you like he knew how much you enjoyed being in his arms. “So what do ya say bub?”

You couldn’t think too much about it, the cold making it hard for any rational thought to make it through, but you knew you wanted this. Him.

“Hmm… I say we better hurry up and get to my room because I’m freezing.”

Logan smirked. “One thing first.”

He leant down and kissed you, one hand staying on your waist while the other came up to your face, gripping your chin slightly and tilting it forwards to give him better access to your mouth. His lips were feverish against yours, like a starved man, dragging against your mouth like it was all he’d been able to think about for who knew how long.

You kissed him back, something he obviously revelled in if his audible groan was anything to go by. Both his hands were now on your face cupping it as he kissed you harder, devouring your mouth.

He pulled back when he noticed your shaking though, shaking his head at you with an amused smile. “Now let’s get you in bed yeah?”

You nodded your head, almost salivating at the thought of some warmth, and let Logan lead you to your room, a hand placed firmly on your waist. When you saw your bed, looking so inviting, you left Logan’s side to crawl into it, letting out a sigh of content when you covered yourself under the piles of blankets.

Logan smirked at you before tugging his shirt up and taking it off. Your eyes widened as you stared at his chest, his abs flexing as he raised his arms, the small trail of hair going from his belly button to hidden behind the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging low in his hips and giving you the perfect view of his V-line.

“What are you doing?” you managed to ask, even though you still hadn’t torn your gaze away from his body.

Logan’s smirk, noticing your stare, turned smug. “The less layers the better body heat bub.”

You swallowed, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well I’m too cold to take any of my clothes off.”

Logan moved forward, gently nudging you aside so he could get under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back to his chest. You shivered delightfully. He was right; the less layers the better body heat.

He moved forward to whisper in your ear, “that’s alright bub. We’ll leave that for another night.”

You smiled again, feeling flustered, and Logan chuckled against your head, giving you a chaste kiss on your hair.

“Goodnight,” you whispered to Logan, snuggling closer to him.

Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pressing his head into the crook of your neck and peppering some kisses there. “Goodnight bub.”

#logan howlett #wolverine #x men #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #x men movies #x men fic #x men x reader #james howlett #james logan howlett #xmen

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dilf-c0nn0isseur · 11 days

Text

logan trying to get you pregnant - MDNI! 18+

this is not proofread at all, i just couldn’t get domestic lumberjack husband logan and a breeding kink out of my head.

SMUT BELOW THE CUT!

You had just finished dinner, the table set nicely for two, when you heard the front door open followed shortly by the familiar sound of your husband's boots being kicked off. A smile subconsciously crept across your face. You had been married to Logan for almost two years now and you still got butterflies around him.

The smell of supper drew him into the kitchen and he found you there, leaning against the kitchen table with your hands crossed over your chest.

"Dinner looks good," Logan drawled. His eyes flicked from the table to you, raking down your body. His lingering gaze made your cheeks heat up. You loved the sight of him right after work, his tousled dark hair and worn flannel the picture of domesticity.

"Yeah? Tried a new recipe," you said with a hint of pride in your voice. He closed the space between the two of you and wrapped you up in his strong arms, your head buried in the soft cotton of his white tank top. The scent of cigar smoke and lumber flooded your nose and you sighed. "How was work?"

"It was good," he said as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. "Thought about you all day." His hands slid down your back and stopped when they met the curve of your ass.

"Logan!," you giggled. He was always hungry for you after work. In fact, he was hungry for you anytime. Before work, during, after. Your breath hitched as he moved his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses below your ear. "Been thinking about making love to you all day princess." A sudden nip at your soft flesh earned a short moan from you, much to Logan's delight. This further encouraged him and he hooked his thumbs in the waist of your jeans, pulling them down.

"What about dinner-"

"Dinner can wait."

In a matter of seconds, Logan had you naked, clearing a spot on the table. Lately, the two of you went at it like animals. You had both talked about having kids and decided you might as well start trying now.

And try, you did.

You were now bent over the table, your thighs already coated from how wet he had you. Behind you, Logan palmed at your ass and took a deep breath in through his nose. He groaned and dug his fingers into your hips as he smelt how fertile you were. "Perfect time for what I'm about to do to you," he grunted as you heard the unbuckling of his belt, followed by the clang of metal on the tile floor.

You wriggled below him impatiently, almost drooling with anticipation. "Please, Lo. Need you now."

His grip on your hips tightened and steadied you. "Patient, sweetheart. I'll give it to you."

A whine left your lips as you felt the swollen head of his cock spread your folds. You rocked your hips back, forcing him in a little further.

"Want it that bad, huh?"

"Fuck, yes Logan," you gasped.

Not able to restrain himself any longer, Logan pushed himself inside of you, stretching your cunt around his thick length. His hips pressed flush against your ass as he bottomed out inside of you. His head fell back with a low groan as he felt his tip make contact with your cervix. "God, this pussy is fucking perfect."

Dinner was now long forgotten.

He drew himself fully back out before sinking back inside of you. You were so horny, another sign that you were at your most fertile time of the month. And Logan knew that.

He gradually picked up his pace behind you and fell into rhythm. It wasn't long before he began losing control of himself, the smell of your heat and your pathetic moans awakening that animalistic urge inside of him. He pounded himself into you, your body rocking against the table with every thrust.

"Oh! Oh, Logan!" Your fingers scratched desperately at the table, trying to find some sort of leverage as he drilled into you from behind. With one hand still gripping your hip to hold you in place, the other settled on top of one of yours, your fingers tangling. You felt his heavy stature above you as his firm stomach pressed against your back. His lips grazed your ear as he coaxed you, his pace unfaltering and unforgiving. But somehow, it was so loving. So passionate.

"I'm gonna fuck a baby into this little pussy," he husked. "Gonna get you pregnant."

His words made your stomach turn and heat up. "Please, Logan," you struggled to get out with a loud moan. "Wanna have your baby."

Logan was blinded by his urges. He fucked you harder than he ever had before, his balls slapping angrily against your clit with each thrust.

"Oh, fuck-"

You couldn't even manage to get the words out before you were cumming around his dick, writhing below him. You squirmed as he continued through your orgasm and overstimulation took over your body. He felt you moving and gripped the pillowy skin of your ass to steady you, to prevent you from getting out from under him.

"Gotta fuck my cum into you first doll."

His words made you clench around him and he was a mess of deep groans and gasps. You felt his dick twitch inside of you and you knew he was about to cum. Somehow, his pace quickened and he pushed deeper inside of you.

"Stay still."

His teeth sunk into the flesh of your neck as he came inside of you, the thick, warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white. A low, guttural growl escaped his throat as he fucked his seed inside you, pushing it as deep as he could, determined to leave himself as deep as possible. You shook below him and cried out his name. He slammed into you one final time, most definitely bruising your cervix.

His still-hard cock sat inside of you as he panted, drops of sweat falling on your body and mixing with yours. You went limp below him, a fucked out smile on your face. You were so fucking full of him. His thumb rubbed gentle circles on your hip and he kissed your temple.

"Think that one'll catch?"

#logan howlett #Logan howlett x you #Logan howlett x reader #Logan howlett smut #x men wolverine #x men #x men logan #wolverine #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #Logan howlett breeding kink

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bpmiranda · 22 days

Note

Okay someone mentioned a baby trap on one of the dbf!logan posts and now I need it 😩

Old Enough (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: cream pie, 18+ mutant f!reader who has the same ability that Sister Sage has from The Boys, older!logan, age gap

There wasn’t anyone quite like you that Logan had ever met before. You were incredibly intelligent, posing the most interesting of questions all while being quite young. Logan tried his hardest not to indulge in the depraved ideas lurking in the dark corners of his mind, he really did, but you as smart as you were, you were also quite badly behaved.

Not an uncommon trait of a model student with strict parents who was granted freedom in the form of an on campus dormitory at the X-Mansion. Logan was just happy that your idea for misbehaving involved him and while he knew he shouldn’t have given in to your pouting and teasing, he was just a man at the end of the day. How could anyone say no to you?

Currently, you were straddling his lap in your bedroom. Your hips were rolling slow and gently against him, the hard shaft in his sweatpants lying against his bare abdomen while you sat completely naked. His large hands were running tenderly up and down your back and shoulders, feeling how small your frame is compared to him. “Mm, Professor, keep touching me like this and we’ll have to take those pants off.” You tease, knowing he hates being called ‘professor.’ Logan lightly pats your ass and you bite his lip.

“Don’t you have class soon?” He asks as you move to kiss his neck, your hands roaming the expanse of his chest as you hum. “I can’t be the reason you fall behind, baby.”

You smirk against his jaw and pull back to look at him. “My mutation will literally not allow that to happen.” You said with a subtle hint of what some may call arrogance. Your mutation being that your brain continues to grow and in the same way Logan is able to regenerate, your brain quite literally continuously builds itself up stronger, making you the smartest person in the world. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of getting caught.” You murmur, raking your fingernails through his beard as you continue rolling your hips.

“You’re a student,” Logan says with a chuckle, his cock throbbing at the reminder that a pretty, young girl like you constantly wants to be all over him. “I’m supposed to be the reasonable one here.”

“It’s my last year as a student,” You remind him, subtly pushing his sweats down a little further as your lower belly aches with want of a release. “Come on, Logan,” You gasp as his tip kisses your sensitive clit and he groans. “Won’t you fuck me one last time as a student?” You beg, moaning as his cock pulses against you.

Logan grunts at the slick of your cunt coating his member and his grip tightens on your hips. “You’re a terrible influence.” He groans, guiding you up and onto his head. You bite your lip as he watches you sink down on his length and your body trembles with anticipation. “Fuck, where are you going after you graduate?” He asked, admiring how you sit so pretty on his dick.

“Where do you want me to go?” You ask, warming and clenching his cock with your contracting pussy. “I’ll go wherever you want, Logan. Be whatever you want.” You gasp as he bucks his hips up slightly, adjusting your position on his lap, and he smirks.

“You’re not old enough to come with me.” Logan chuckles and you frown. “Don’t do that.”

“I am old enough,” You defended, crossing your arms over your chest and he can’t help the smile on his face. Logan knows you hate it when he treats you like a kid, which you are, but you don’t think like a girl your age. A lot of it having to do with your mutation. “Logan, I wanna be with you when I leave the school. I want it to be us.” You murmur, caressing his chest slowly and tracing your index finger through the indentations of his muscled torso.

“Baby, you’ve got so much potential to be absolutely anything, and you wanna muck around the North East with me?” He asks with mild disbelief, though he shouldn’t be too surprised. You were always talking about the craving you had for a domestic life, a family, as modern and advanced in your age as you might be, that was always a constant.

“Should I find someone else then?” You ask defiantly and you can feel him tense up underneath you. You push on, hoping to get him mad. “Maybe I’ll shack up with Iceman or Pyro. Be with someone my age.”

Logan’s blood is boiling at the thought, even if it is what he thinks you should do, but it doesn’t make it fun to hear. “I want you too, baby, but I’m just saying you should experience more before you decide you’re ready to settle down.”

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you begin bouncing lightly on his lap, holding yourself up by his chest. Logan’s head rolls back and he caressed your waist, guiding you along his shaft as you moan softly. “I want to experience you, Logan.” You gasp lightly as his thick girth moves deeper and deeper into you. Your breasts tingle with excitement and you dig your fingernails into his shoulders. “Wanna be yours.”

Logan grunts, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he kisses your neck and chest, marking you with love bites that have you whining for more. “You wanna be mine?” He asks you and you nod, biting your lip as he’s looking at you with a darkness in his eyes. The type of darkness that you saw when you knew you were in for a long night with him.

Suddenly, you are flipped over and lying on your back as he is pounding into you from above. One of your legs is hooked onto his shoulder while the other one is pinned to bed so that he can rut deep and roughly into you. Your eyes well with hot tears at his ruthless pace and you know you’re going to cum harder than ever before. “Yes, Logan! Yes!” You cry as your mind goes fuzzy with the ecstasy of your release and he quickly covers your mouth his large hand.

“Gonna get us caught.” He half-heartedly scolds, hoping they hear him as he takes you, makes you his own. “You don’t want them to see what I’m about to do to you.” He smirks and your eyebrows furrow curiously, but you’re too dazed to ask, too muffled to question him.

And then you realize as his hips start to falter in their rhythm, yet he does not move to pull out. Your nails claw desperately at his back, your body trembling as he is jolting your little body up and down the mattress with the force of his thrusts. “Mm! Mm! Hmph!” You whimper and moan as his cock throbs warningly inside you, the man above you thrusts deeply one last time, pressing harshly into your cervix where you feel his load suddenly burst out in thick spurts and your eyes water from the intensity, the feeling of being so full with him and his seed making your eyes roll back into your head. Your body shakes violently from the pleasure of it all and Logan grunts in an animalistic manner as he pumps himself empty deep inside you.

“You’re mine now,” He says as he removes his hand from your mouth and kisses you hard. “All mine, baby.” He coos as you mewl into his kiss while you lay under his weight feeling so filthy and satisfied.

I hope I successfully captured the theme of baby trapping! Let me know what you thought:)

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fic #wolverine #wolverine smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fic #x men wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 months

Text

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say.

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you.

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them.

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was.

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for.

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up.

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with;

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway.

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that.

But he still had questions.

Unanswered questions.

Like who the hell were you?

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again.

In the kitchens.

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad.

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies.

And somehow

It was relaxing to him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you.

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.”

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers.

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove.

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink.

And he did.

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out.

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea.

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy.

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish.

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear.

Then he jerked up.

With a grunt, he looked around him.

He was in his room.

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen.

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination.

The Professor’s office.

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm.

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?”

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office.

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him.

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door.

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had.

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you.

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with.

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you.

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things.

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears.

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence.

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it.

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness.

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again.

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep.

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it.

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt.

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did.

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you.

More so, when he saw your shoulder.

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up.

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night.

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked.

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet.

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked.

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it.

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa.

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas.

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed.

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor.

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

Fast asleep.

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you.

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point.

Hell, even he needed sleep.

But you were just constantly forever going.

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second.

You were fast asleep.

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while.

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision.

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up.

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again.

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for.

A heavy blanket.

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace.

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered.

He turned around but you were still.

Then you whimpered again.

“No,” you whispered.

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again.

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away.

Except you reached out for his hand.

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep.

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream.

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out.

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room.

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor.

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him.

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly.

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching.

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?”

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened.

And glowed.

They were still your eyes just…brighter.

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again.

Then everything stopped.

Everything went silent.

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved.

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,”

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare.

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face.

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him.

“Logan,” you breathed.

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling.

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest.

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand.

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged.

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed.

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever.

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget.

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going.

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed.

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile.

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands.

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him.

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile.

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed.

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him.

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea.

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist.

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing.

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep.

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months.

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room.

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed.

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him.

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time.

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter.

Because Logan already knew.

And so did you.

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him.

2K notes · View notes

wolvietxt · 15 days

Text

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝗑 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋!

pairing : logan howlett x afab!reader warnings : pregnancy, kissing, food mentions, fluff word count : 1k

you’re curled up on the couch, hand resting on your belly, when logan walks in. he’s sporting his usual tough exterior, but there’s a softness in his eyes when he sees you. he drops his keys on the table and makes his way over, sitting beside you, closer than usual.

“how’re you feeling?” he asks, voice low, almost gruff, like he’s trying not to let too much concern show. but you know him well enough to catch it.

you smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. “a bit tired. baby’s been kicking a lot today.”

he reaches out, hesitating for just a second before resting his hand on your belly, his fingers splayed out. he’s not one for grand gestures, but this small one speaks volumes. “this little one’s got some fight in ‘em,” he says, a hint of pride in his tone.

“just like their dad,” you tease, nudging him gently. you feel the warmth of his hand through your shirt, grounding you in a way that words never could.

he huffs a quiet laugh, but his eyes are serious when he looks at you. “you’re okay, though? really?”

you nod, reaching up to touch his cheek. “i’m okay, logan. really.”

there’s a moment of silence, the kind that’s comfortable, where neither of you feel the need to fill it with words. logan’s thumb strokes your belly absentmindedly, and you can tell he’s lost in thought.

“you ever… think about what it’s gonna be like?” he finally asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“all the time,” you admit. “sometimes it’s scary, but mostly… i’m excited.”

he shifts a little, like he’s trying to find the right words. “i don’t… i mean, i know i’m not the best at this stuff. i’m not good with, y’know, talking about… feelings. but i’m here. for you. for both of you.”

his words are clumsy, but they hit you straight in the heart. you know how hard it is for him to open up like this, and it means more to you than anything. you take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently.

“you’re already doing great, logan,” you say softly. “we’re in this together, remember?”

he nods, his grip on your hand tightening just a bit. “yeah. together.”

another kick makes you both jump a little, and logan’s eyes widen in surprise. “was that…?”

you laugh, nodding. “yeah, i think they’re trying to say hi.”

logan’s expression softens in a way that makes your heart melt. he leans down, pressing his forehead against your belly. “hey, kiddo,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough but filled with an emotion that makes your throat tighten. “can’t wait to meet you.”

he stays like that for a while, his breath warm against your skin, and you run your fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. this is your life now, and it’s more than you ever hoped for.

when he finally sits back up, there’s a small, almost shy smile on his face. “you hungry? i could make something… or we could order in, whatever you want.”

“you cooking?” you raise an eyebrow playfully. “now that’s something i’d like to see.”

“hey, ‘m not that bad,” he grumbles, but there’s a playful glint in his eye. “but seriously, you gotta eat. it’s important.”

“you’re right,” you agree, feeling a wave of affection for him. “how about we order in? and maybe we can try cooking together later. it could be fun.”

logan seems to consider this, then nods. “yeah, bub. that sounds good.”

you pick up your phone, scrolling through options while logan watches, still keeping one hand on your belly, as if he needs that connection to both of you. you glance at him, catching the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

“what?” he asks when he notices you staring.

“nothing,” you say, smiling. “just… i’m really glad it’s you, logan. that ‘m doing all this with you.”

he looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he just leans in, kissing your forehead. it’s a simple gesture, but it’s filled with everything he’s not saying, everything he’s not good at putting into words.

“me too,” he finally whispers against your skin.

logan’s arm tightens around you as you settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder. the quiet between you is filled with a kind of warmth that makes you feel safe, like nothing in the world could touch you here. you tilt your head up, catching his gaze.

“logan,” you whisper, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

he looks down at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes so full of something deep, something that you know is hard for him to show. without a word, he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. you can feel his rough calluses against your skin, a reminder of just how strong and steady he is.

his eyes search yours, and for a moment, you think he might say something, but then he just dips his head, closing the small gap between you. his lips meet yours, gentle at first, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, but when you kiss him back, he deepens it, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, holding you in place.

it’s not a desperate kiss, not rushed or frantic. it’s slow, deliberate, like he’s pouring everything he can’t say into this one moment. you can feel the warmth of him, the way his breath mingles with yours, and it makes you feel more connected to him than ever.

when you finally pull away, you’re both breathless, but neither of you moves far. his forehead rests against yours, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he tries to steady his breathing.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. “you and the baby… you’re my everything.”

you smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i know. and you’re ours.”

he leans in for one more quick kiss, a soft brush of his lips against yours, before he pulls back, his hand finding its place on your belly again. the world outside feels distant, unimportant. right here, with him, is where you’re meant to be.

1K notes · View notes

shangchiswife · 1 month

Text

logan howlett- little black dress

summary: after seeing logan and jean together, you feel jealous and decide to get even.

logan x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cursing

word count: 2952

....

The annual gala at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was always an exciting night, with mutants and humans in their best outfits, enjoying themselves and having a blast.

Tonight, however, you had a little more on your mind than just a good time.

You and Logan had been dating for a few months now, and while your relationship was strong, there was something about the way he and Jean spent so much time together recently that had sparked a pang of jealousy in you.

You had chosen a little black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve with its elegant design.

As you put on your earrings and took one last look in the mirror you felt a rush of confidence, a smirk forming on your lips.

You were ready to drive him absolutely insane.

As you walked into the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was full of energy and excitement.

The soft glow of chandeliers highlighted the glittering attire of the guests, the air buzzing with the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversations.

Your entrance did not go unnoticed.

Heads turned, and conversations paused as you walked confidently through the crowd. You could even see students whispering and pointing at you. At one point one of them even wolf-whistled at you.

“Looking good, Miss L/N,” one of the students called out with a grin.

You shot him a playful look. “That’s a detention for you, Richard,” you said with a smirk, watching as his grin faltered.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Logan, deep in conversation with Jean which made your smile fade.

Game on, you thought as you scanned the room and spotted a handsome mutant dressed in a dark suit talking animatedly with Scott.

When Scott excused himself, you saw your opening.

With a purposeful stride, you approached the man, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His attention shifted to you as you neared, and you flashed him a warm smile.

The mutant’s eyes widened as he drank in your appearance.

“Good evening,” you purred, your voice laced with a hint of playful charm. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a moment.”

“Not at all,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’m Stan. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering a hand to him which he graciously took.

“So, Stan,” you said, your eyes sparkling, “What brings you to this splendid event tonight? It’s not every day you meet someone with such an intriguing presence.”

Stan seemed to appreciate the attention, his smile widening as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

“I was actually looking for a bit of excitement,” he said with a wink. “And it looks like I’ve found it.”

You laughed lightly, making sure to touch his arm casually as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad to be part of your exciting evening. It’s always nice to find someone who knows how to enjoy themselves.”

As the conversation continued, you noticed Logan watching from across the room. His gaze was intense, and you could see his frustration growing. He kept glancing over, unable to tear his eyes away from your interaction with Stan.

His gaze darkened, intense and almost feral, as he took in the sight of you. You saw the way his hand tightened around his drink, the barely restrained hunger in his eyes.

It was exactly the reaction you had been hoping for.

Jean said something to him, but he didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you.

You smiled, just a hint of satisfaction curling your lips before you returned your attention to Stan.

“You know,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’m really enjoying our conversation. How about we leave this party and continue it somewhere more private?”

Before you could respond, you saw Logan storming over, his face red with anger.

“Hey, Y/N,” Logan said, his voice clipped. “We need to talk,”

Stan looked between you and Logan, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “Is everything alright?” he asked, clearly unsure of what to do.

“We’re fine,” Logan practically barked at him, his eyes not leaving yours for a second.

You glanced at Logan, your expression a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“I think I’ll handle this,” you said to Stan, giving him a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the lovely conversation.”

“Of course,” Stan replied, stepping back. He cast one last, disappointed glance at you before exiting the ballroom.

Logan’s intense gaze remained fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of wetness pooling in your panties.

“What’s the deal with you and Stan?” he demanded, his voice low and edged with frustration.

“You’re driving me insane, flaunting yourself in that hot little dress and flirting with him like that.”

“I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you,” you said, attempting to sound playful despite the blush creeping up your neck.

Logan took a step closer to you so that your chests were practically touching. The air between you crackled with tension.

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “Watching you with someone else is pushing me to my limit.”

You felt a rush of exhilaration at his dominant demeanor.

“Maybe that was the point,” you said, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “To make you remember what you mean to me.”

Logan’s eyes darkened with desire, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm firmly.

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned, his voice thick with barely restrained need. “And I’m done waiting.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the assertive way he was holding you. You tilted your head slightly, your lips close to his ear.

“Maybe it’s exactly what we both needed,” you murmured, your voice laced with suggestiveness. “To see where this tension leads us.”

Logan’s grip on your arm tightened just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“We’re going somewhere more private,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Now.”

With that, he guided you firmly but gently through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours.

The vibrant energy of the ballroom faded as he led you swiftly and confidently towards a quieter, more secluded area.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This is what you were waiting for.

Logan’s hand stayed firmly on your back, leading you towards a quieter, more private corner.

When you reached a quiet corner, Logan wasted no time.

He pushed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body pressing close to yours, his breath hot against your skin.

Logan’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes full of lust.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve been torturing me tonight?” he growled, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

You could barely keep your composure as his words made you even wetter.

“Maybe I wanted to see just how far I could push you,” you replied, your voice soft and teasing, “to remind you of what you mean to me.”

Logan’s lips curved into a predatory smile.

“Well, you’ve definitely made your point,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “Now, I’m going to make sure you feel exactly how much I’ve been waiting.”

Without another word, he cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips before he captured them in a deep, demanding kiss. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and hunger, his hands exploring the curves of your body in a possessive manner.

You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Butterflies formed in your stomach, yielding to his every move.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both panting, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Logan’s eyes were dark with desire and dominance.

“I’m not letting you go until you’ve made up for every second I’ve had to wait,” he said, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.

You looked up at him, your breath catching at the raw intensity in his gaze.

“I think I said something, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice lowering to a soft but commanding murmur. “What do you say?”

Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the fire in his eyes fueling your own excitement.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Logan’s lips.

“Such a good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips that left you craving more.

You whimpered softly as he began unzipping your dress, the cool air brushing against your skin as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed under his hungry gaze.

The sensation of his fingers brushing against your bare back sent shivers through you, making you breathless.

Once the dress was loosened enough, he guided it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving yours. The look of hunger in his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly desired.

Logan’s hands roamed over your bare skin with a possessive intensity, each touch sending waves of pleasure through you.

His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, primal desire that made every touch feel electrifying.

He took his time, savoring the way your body responded to his touch. His fingertips traced patterns across your skin, exploring and teasing as he gradually shifted his focus to your bare breasts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised before taking one of your nipples in your mouth.

You moaned in delight, your hand instinctively moving to grip his hair, pulling him closer as you arched into his touch.

Logan’s mouth worked expertly, his tongue flicking and sucking with a rhythm that drove you wild.

After a few moments, he pulled back slightly, his lips still lingering on your skin.

His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what it did to me, seeing you in that black dress. It made me want you more than I thought was possible.”

Logan's hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer until you could feel the hardness straining against his pants.

You whimpered as you started grinding on his clothed cock making him groan. You began to grind against his clothed erection, the friction causing both of you to moan.

His grip tightened, guiding your movements with an urgency that made your breath hitch.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want this.”

You could feel his need growing, matched by your own as you pressed harder against him.

As you continued to move, Logan’s hands slid down to cup your ass, pulling you closer and deepening the contact.

His kisses were fierce, trailing down your neck as he held you against him. The heat and urgency in his touch made every moment more intense, heightening the pleasure for both of you.

Logan’s breaths were ragged, his voice low and feral as he groaned against your skin.

“I need you,” you whispered between kisses, your voice a desperate plea.

With a growl, he bent down so that his face was level with your black lacy panties. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs before his teeth caught the edge of your panties. In one swift, deliberate motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding away like a tease.

You moaned as the cool air hit your bare pussy.

Logan’s gaze remained fixed on you as he tossed the panties aside. His hands cupped your hips, pulling you closer.

He pressed a heated kiss to your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin.

When his lips finally brushed against your core, the shock of pleasure made you gasp.

Your hands carded through his hair making him grunt.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, peach,” he murmured eating you out like a man starved, his praise sending a wave of pleasure that made you moan uncontrollably.

He continued his assault on your pussy with his tongue. The way he alternated between teasing licks and firm strokes made you see stars, your moans growing louder with each passing second.

“Lo I’m gonna-” you shut your eyes with contentment as he flicked your clit with his tongue, his movements becoming faster.

“Cum for me baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. His command sent you over the edge, your body surrendering to the powerful waves of pleasure that crashed over you.

Logan straightened up, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he licked his lips.

“I could eat that pussy for hours,” he said before undoing his belt.

Your eyes widened with anticipation as his cock sprang free, thick, and ready.

With a swift motion, he pressed you against the wall, the cool surface brushing against your bare breasts.

You felt him line his cock against your entrance making you mewl.

“Don’t worry, peach, I’ll take care of you,” his breath brushed against your ear before he playfully nibbled it, causing a light shiver to run through you.

He entered you with a groan.

“Always so fucking tight,” he hissed as your mouth contorted into an o shape from his length stretching you.

He didn’t even give you a moment to adjust to his size before his hips began to move, thrusting deep and relentlessly.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he panted, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust that drove you higher and higher.

Your only response was a high-pitched moan, your body arching involuntarily.

“You wanted me jealous, wanted me to fuck you like this,” he growled, one calloused hand wrapping around your throat while the other found your clit, teasing and tormenting you.

“Well, sweetheart, you got your wish,” he snarled, his cock twitching inside you as your screams urged him on, driving him deeper with every thrust, each one perfectly hitting your g-spot.

He groaned, eyes closing momentarily as he felt you tighten around him.

“Keep making those pretty little sounds, baby,” he commanded, quickening the pace of his hips, and making you squeal even louder.

“Logan, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your breath hitching as your walls fluttered around him.

“Then cum for me,” he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

The heat between you grew unbearable, and you could feel your release building, your body on the brink of release.

Logan's grip on your throat tightened slightly, just enough to remind you of his control, while his other hand continued its merciless assault on your clit. The rhythm of his hips became erratic, his own need evident as he pounded into you with increasing urgency.

"Come on, baby," he rasped, his voice rough and filled with dark promise. "I want to feel you cum around my cock. Let go for me."

That was all it took.

Pleasure shot through you in waves that left you breathless and shuddering beneath him. Your walls clenched tight around him, milking his cock as you rode out your orgasm, the world fading into nothing but intense, consuming bliss.

Logan groaned deeply, his own restraint slipping as he felt you convulse around him.

His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he let out a guttural growl, releasing inside you in hot, pulsing waves.

He held you there, still and breathless, his body pressed tightly against yours as you both came down from the high.

Slowly, he released his hold on your throat, his fingers brushing over the marks he'd left behind. His other hand stayed between your legs, gently soothing you as you both caught your breath.

"That's my girl," Logan murmured, his voice softer now, laced with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "You did so good, baby."

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile coming to your lips.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rough, as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face.

“You think you can handle it?” he teased back, though the edge in his voice told you he wasn’t entirely joking.

You bit your lip, feeling the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through your body.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of your swollen lips before leaning down to capture them in a searing kiss.

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release.

Logan’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and warning as he let out a low chuckle.

“You might want to be careful with that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rough but tinged with affection.

He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender after the intensity of what you’d just shared.

“Because you know I’ll always give you exactly what you ask for.”

You smiled into the kiss, your heart still racing but now with a warmth that spread through your chest.

“Maybe that’s what I’m counting on,” you teased, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

He groaned softly, his hand trailing down your side, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his tone full of admiration as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “But you’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

“Don’t worry I won’t,”

#logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader smut #logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine x reader smut #wolverine x reader #xmen x reader smut

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itneverendshere · 1 month

Text

looking like motivation - hockey!r.c (+18)

requested by my #1 @zya4lifers

warnings: meantions of cheating; SMUT.

Rafe’s day started the same way it had for the last two months: with a groan of pain that shot up from his knee and settled into his mood like a stubborn storm cloud.

He hated physical therapy, but what he hated more was sitting on the sidelines, watching his teammates on the ice while he was stuck on a cushioned table with resistance bands and an overenthusiastic sports medic, with hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and a pair of blue scrubs that somehow still looked cute on you.

At least that was what he thought when he first met you.

But two weeks in, his hatred had morphed into something else entirely, something way more complicated. He wasn’t sure when it happened—maybe when he caught you singing quietly along with the radio while taping up his knee, or when you’d given him that first, honest-to-God smile that wasn’t out of politeness but genuine amusement at some stupid joke he’d made. And he made a lot of those.

Now, sitting on that same damn table, Rafe found himself looking forward to PT in a way that had nothing to do with his injury. You walked in, clipboard in hand, looking as professional as always. It was kind of cute, the way you tried so hard to keep things strictly professional between the two of you. Rafe knew he got under your skin—hell, he made sure of it. He could tell by the way your eyes flicked up to meet his for just a second longer than necessary before you quickly looked away. You tried to be cool, but he knew better.

“Alright, Cameron. How’s the knee today?”

He put on his best wounded-puppy face. “Terrible. I might never skate again.”

“Shut up.”

“And I could be better,” Rafe drawled, his lips curling into that signature smirk. “But seeing you always helps.”

You rolled your eyes, but he saw the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it every time,” he shot back, winking at you.

You tried to ignore him, busying yourself with adjusting the equipment. “Let’s focus on your knee, alright?”

“Whatever you say, Doc,” Rafe said, stretching out on the table with a lazy grin.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched up. “We’ve got to work on your pain tolerance.”

He couldn’t resist. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to keep me on my toes.”

Finally, you looked up, your expression deadpan. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to avoid actually doing your therapy, Cameron.”

Touché.

He liked the way you said his name—like you were in control, like you were the one calling the shots. It was refreshing.

The first few minutes of the session passed in relative silence as you guided him through the exercises, your hands expertly working his injured knee. Rafe winced, but it wasn’t all from the pain. It was from trying to resist the urge to say something that might actually cross the line. But resisting wasn’t really his style.

“So, what’s your boyfriend up to this weekend?” Rafe asked, his voice casual, but his eyes sharp, watching your reaction.

You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for a player, especially one with a reputation like Rafe’s. Besides, you were already with someone. Logan—the clean-cut, dependable defenseman from a rival school. You’d been together for over a year, and things were great.

You looked up at him, a little caught off guard. “Out of town.”

Rafe snorted, unable to help himself. “Figures.”

You frowned, straightening up to give him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rafe shrugged, feigning innocence. “Nothing.”

“He’s busy,” you said defensively.

“Too busy for you?” he pushed, his tone dripping with faux concern. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, I’d make time.”

You gave him an unimpressed look, “I’m sure you would.”

“You don’t think I would?”

“I think you’ve already got your hands full with the cheerleading team.”

He liked to pretend you sounded jealous and not critical.

Rafe chuckled, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Cheerleaders are fun and all, but they’re not really my type.”

Okay, that was half a lie, but in his defense, he hadn’t slept with anyone on the cheer squad since sophomore year.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as you adjusted the strap on his knee brace. “And what exactly is your type, Cameron?”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “Complicated. Smart. Gorgeous.”

You didn’t miss a beat, even as your pulse quickened. “So, basically the opposite of you?”

He grinned, like a stupidly in love sick puppy, unbothered by the jab. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the smile threatening to break through. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“Only when it comes to you,” he replied smoothly, his eyes locked on yours.

There was no denying the chemistry, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. But you were with someone else, someone who, despite his flaws, you cared about. Still, Rafe made it hard to remember why you were trying to resist in the first place.

“Rafe, we really should focus on your PT,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

“Trust me, I am focusing,” he replied, his tone suggesting he wasn’t talking about his knee.

You rolled your eyes, standing up straighter to put some distance between you.

“Right. Well, you need to focus on this next exercise. We’re going to work on your range of motion.”

He sighed dramatically but didn’t argue, watching you with a lazy smile as you moved to demonstrate the exercise. He couldn’t help but admire the way you carried yourself—confident, knowledgeable, and completely fucking beautiful. It was a challenge, and Rafe Cameron loved a challenge.

As you guided his leg through the motion, your hands firm but gentle, Rafe couldn’t resist pushing a little more. “You know, you never answered my question.”

“What question?” you asked, though you had a feeling you knew where this was going.

“What you’re doing this weekend,” he said, his eyes locked on yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch.

You glanced away, focusing on the movement of his knee, your fingers brushing against his skin as you adjusted the angle. “I’ll probably just catch up on some work. Maybe relax.”

“Sounds boring,” Rafe remarked, though there was a playful lilt to his voice. “You should let me take you out.”

You looked up sharply, caught off guard by his directness. “Rafe, I’m—”

“Taken, I know,” he interrupted, his tone still light but with an undercurrent of something more serious. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun, does it? Just as friends.”

“Just as friends?” you echoed skeptically, knowing full well what his idea of ‘just friends’ probably entailed.

Rafe shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “We could get dinner, maybe hit up a bar, talk about something other than my knee for once. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

“No.”

His smirk faltered, just for a second, before it came back stronger, more determined. He leaned back on the table, pretending to stretch as he tried to mask the sting of rejection. "No?" he echoed, as if the concept was foreign to him.

You crossed your arms, standing firm even though his eyes on you made your heart race. "No. We both know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to happen."

"And what exactly am I trying to do?" he asked, feigning innocence with a smirk that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to get drawn into his game. "You know what. I’m here to help you with your injury, not to entertain whatever fantasy you’ve got going on."

"Who says it’s a fantasy?" he shot back, his voice lowering, taking on a more serious tone that caught you off guard. "Maybe I just want to get to know you better."

You paused, searching his face for any sign of sincerity. But Rafe was hard to read when he wanted to be, his playful exterior a well-practiced mask that he rarely let slip. "Rafe, you're a good guy, but—"

"Good guy?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe me like that."

"Fine," you conceded with a small smile. "Maybe ‘good’ is a stretch. But you’re not as bad as you want people to think."

Rafe’s smirk faded. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, and it made you hesitate, made you wonder if there was more to him than just the cocky, relentless flirt.

But before you could dwell on it, he was back to his usual self, flashing you that devil-may-care grin that made it hard to stay mad at him. "You know, I’d actually take that as a compliment if it came from anyone else."

"Don’t get too excited," you replied, trying to keep things light. "I still think you’re a pain in the ass."

"Yeah, but I’m your pain in the ass," he teased, stupidly blinking his lashes up at you.

You shook your head, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. "You really don’t give up, do you?"

"Not when it comes to something I want," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

"Cameron, this isn’t going to happen. I have a boyfriend."

He shrugged, unbothered. "And? You’re no fun. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You handed him a water bottle, expression neutral. “You’re just out of shape.”

“Out of shape?” He looked at her, incredulous. “Do you see this body?”

You didn’t take the bait. “I see a guy who’s been slacking off on his conditioning.”

He laughed, low and warm, as he took a sip of water. “You’re tough. Tougher than most of the coaches I’ve had.”

You shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Logan’s a lucky guy.”

The hockey world was small, and word got around, of course he knew his name.

“Logan’s great,” you said, a little too quickly.

Rafe nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”

He didn’t push it further, though. Instead, he fell back into his usual routine of teasing and flirting. Every time you guided his leg through a stretch or adjusted the equipment, he found his mind wandering, imagining what it would be like if things were different. If he were the one you were coming home to after a long day, if he were the one you smiled at without that guarded look in your eyes.

But you were with Logan, and as much as he hated to admit it, Rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to cross that line. Not when you were clearly trying so hard to keep things professional between the two of you.

As the session wrapped up, you handed him his schedule for the next few days, your demeanor as cool and composed as ever. “I’ll see you on Thursday. Make sure you keep up with the exercises over the next couple of days, and don’t overdo it.”

He took the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for the briefest of moments. It was enough to send a jolt of electricity through him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Try to stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Can’t make any promises.”

He spent the weekend bored out of his mind, thinking about you—wondering if you were with Logan, if the guy was actually smart enough to know what he had.

He hated Logan more than he hated the pain in his knee.

The guy was too perfect, too dependable, too fucking boring. And Rafe had been praying, in a way he wouldn’t admit to anyone, that something would happen—something that would make you see Logan for the jackass he really was. It wasn’t that he thought he was a better guy; he knew his own flaws better than anyone. But he also knew that he could make you happier, make you laugh harder, make you feel things that Logan never could.

So when you walked in late to the next session, he was ready to make a joke, to tease you about finally deciding to show up. But the words died on his lips when he saw you. You weren’t looking at him, not really, just muttering a half-hearted apology as you dropped your bag in the corner. But when you finally met his gaze, his chest tightened.

Your eyes were bloodshot red, the kind of red that came from hours of crying, from tears that wouldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried. You looked exhausted, like you hadn’t slept in days, and your usual spark was nowhere to be found.

His first instinct was to make a joke, to lighten the mood the way he always did, but he couldn’t. Not when you looked like that.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice void of its usual cockiness. “You okay?”

You nodded, but it was the kind of nod that was meant to shut someone up, not because you actually meant it. You were far from okay.

“You’re late,” he said, his tone teasing, but even he could hear the concern underneath.

“I know, sorry,” you replied, your voice small, almost defeated.

Rafe frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. This wasn’t like you. You were always so put together, so in control, and seeing you like this was…so unsettling.

“What happened?” he asked, more serious now, the joking tone completely gone.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you busied yourself with the equipment, but Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easily. Not when he could see the pain written all over your face.

“Come on, what’s going on?” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Did something happen with Logan?”

The way you flinched at his name told him everything he needed to know. His chest tightened, protectiveness swelling inside him. He’d always thought Logan was too good to be true, but seeing you like this confirmed it.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to it that he usually kept hidden. “Because if he did, I swear to God—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly as you finally looked at him, “I mean, yes, but… it’s not like that.”

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “What did he do?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you tried to hold it together. But there was no point in pretending anymore, not when Rafe was looking at you like that—like he actually cared, like he was ready to go to war for you if that’s what it took.

“He cheated,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling as the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill over. “I found out through a fucking DM on Instagram. Some girl… she just messaged me out of the blue and told me everything. And when I confronted him, he didn’t even deny it. He just—just said it wasn’t a big deal.”

Rafe’s vision blurred with red-hot anger. He wanted to find Logan and beat the shit out of him for making you cry, for being stupid enough to let you go. But more than that, he wanted to make you feel better, to make the hurt go away, even if he didn’t know how.

“That fucking asshole,” He growled, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “I swear to God, I’ll—let me get on that ice and I’ll wipe the entire ring with his face.”

“Rafe, don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. “It’s not worth it. He’s not worth it, okay?”

His heart twisted at the broken look in your eyes, the way your voice wavered as if you didn’t quite believe your own words.

“He’s not worth you,” Rafe said softly, stepping closer, his anger replaced by something gentler, “You deserve better than that. Way better.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. It wasn’t like him to be so serious. But here he was, looking at you like you were the most important person in the world, and it made your heart ache even more.

“I don’t know what I deserve anymore,” you admitted, your voice small and lost.

He reached out, hesitating for just a second before he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away the tear that had finally escaped.

“You deserve someone who knows what they have when they have you,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on yours. “Someone who would never make you cry like this. Someone who would never, ever cheat on you.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over at his words. “Rafe…”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re… you’re amazing, you know that? Any guy would be lucky to have you, and Logan’s a fucking idiot for not seeing that.”

You shook your head, trying to keep it together, but it was no use.

You started to cry, the kind of deep, gut-wrenching sobs that you’d been holding in all weekend. And before you knew it, you were collapsing into his arms, letting him hold you as you cried, his arms strong and steady around you.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to shush you or tell you everything was going to be okay. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back as you let it all out, crying into his chest until there were no more tears left.

When you finally pulled back, your face red and puffy from crying, you only uttered a small, “Thank you.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes soft as he looked down at you. “Anytime.”

And then, without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to his cheek, lingering for just a second before pulling away. He blinked, a little stunned by the gesture, but before he could say anything, you stepped back, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“Do you mind if we reschedule for tomorrow?” you said quickly, your voice still shaky. “I’m not sure I-“

“Of course not.”

You breathed out in relief, “Thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He wanted to tell you to stay, to tell you that it was okay to not be okay, that you didn’t have to face this alone. But he knew you needed space, needed time to process everything that had happened.

“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding as you turned to leave. “Tomorrow.”

He wanted to be there for you, to be the one you turned to when everything fell apart. But more than that, he wanted to be the one to put you back together again, to show you that not all guys were like Logan—that he wasn’t like Logan.

And as you disappeared down the hallway, he made a silent promise to himself: he was going to make you see that. No matter what it took.

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

The weeks passed, each session with Rafe seamlessly flowing into the next. What started as this totally professional thing, strictly business, slowly morphed into something way more personal. His cocky jokes and playful banter had shifted into these deep conversations that actually mattered, and somewhere along the way, you found yourself getting closer to him than you ever expected.

Rafe’s knee had healed remarkably well, and now the day had arrived: his first game back on the ice. As it drew near, a strange sense of anxiety creeped in. Your life had become so closely tied to Rafe’s recovery over the past few months that the thought of him no longer needing your help—or your company—left you with an unsettling emptiness.

You had prepared yourself for the possibility that he might distance himself once he was back on the ice. After all, athletes had their own lives, their own routines, and you were just the therapist who had helped him get to this point. But when he invited you to his first game, the gesture came as a welcome. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he’d slowly lurked his way into your heart.

It was after a particularly intense session, where you’d pushed him harder than ever before, that he brought it up. You were finishing up, wiping down the equipment while he caught his breath, stretching out his legs on the bench.

“You know,” Rafe started, his voice casual but with a hint of something more in it, “I’ve got my first game back tomorrow night.”

You looked up, catching the subtle edge in his tone. “Yeah, I’ve heard. You must be excited.”

“Excited? Nervous as hell, more like it.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “It’s been a long time coming. A lot of pressure to perform, y’know?”

You nodded, understanding him. You’d seen how hard he’d worked, how much this comeback meant to him. “You’ll do great, Cameron. You’re more than ready.”

He smiled at that, but there was something else in his expression, something hesitant. “I was thinking…maybe you could come. To the game, I mean. It’d be nice to have someone there who’s seen the whole process, who knows what it took to get back on that ice.”

His words hung in the air, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. It wasn’t just the invitation—it was what it represented. He didn’t just see you as the therapist who’d helped him heal. He saw you as someone important, someone he wanted by his side as he took this next step.

“I’d love to, Rafe. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Relief washed over his face, followed by a grin that was equal parts gratitude and something else— “Good,” he said, his voice quieter now, “because I’d hate for you to miss it. You’ve been a big part of this, more than you know.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself blushing under his gaze.

“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, but the look in his eyes told you that he saw right through your attempt to downplay it.

“Yeah, well, I’m glad it’s you,” Rafe said, his voice earnest. “I don’t think I could’ve done this with anyone else.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only person in the world at that moment, made it hard to breathe. This was more than just an invitation to a game. This was him telling you, in his own way, that you mattered to him—that you were more than just his therapist, that you were someone he wanted to keep around.

“I’m glad it was me too,” you whispered back, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

“Tomorrow night, then.”

“Tomorrow night.”

Now, as you sit in the stands, watching Rafe skate out onto the ice, you feel a nervous anticipation that has little to do with the game itself.

Just before the puck drops, Rafe catches your eye, giving you a confident wink that sends your heart racing. He knows what this game means, not just for him, but for you as well.

Logan is there, playing on the opposite team. You haven’t seen him in exactly two months. Whatever feelings you had for him disappeared the moment you found out about his betrayal, but your ego still hurts like hell.

The energy in the arena is electric, a buzz that makes his blood hum with anticipation. His first game back, and the stakes couldn’t be higher—not just because of his injury, not just because it’s a rivalry match, but because Logan is on the other side of the ice. Rafe’s jaw clenches at the thought of that bastard, the memory of your tear-streaked face still fresh in his mind.

During warm-ups, he spotted Logan, skating like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t just thrown away the best thing that ever happened to him. Rafe’s grip tightens on his stick, his knuckles white against the black tape. The rage simmering beneath his skin isn’t just about the game. It’s personal.

His focus is razor-sharp, every movement precise, every play calculated. But no matter how much he tries to concentrate on the game, his eyes keep drifting back to Logan, who skates circles around the ice like he owns it.

The first period passes without incident, but by the second, the tension is boiling over. Rafe feels it building, that need to do something, to break Logan’s face in half. He doesn’t just want to beat him; he wants to humiliate him, to knock that smug look off his face once and for all.

Then it happens.

Midway through the second period, Logan makes a hard hit on one of Rafe’s teammates, sending the guy crashing into the boards. The hit is clean, but it’s the arrogance in Logan’s smirk that pushes Rafe over the edge.

He doesn’t hesitate.

He skates straight at Logan, not bothering with any pretense. If Logan wants to play dirty, he is more than ready to play dirtier. Logan barely has time to react before Rafe drops his gloves, his intent crystal clear.

“You think you can just get away with that?” He snarls, his voice low and menacing as he shoves Logan hard in the chest, the force sending him stumbling back on his skates.

Logan’s eyes flash with surprise, quickly followed by anger. “What the hell’s your problem, Cameron?”

He doesn’t bother with a reply.

He swings, his fist connecting solidly with Logan’s jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone against bone is drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but Rafe doesn’t care. He’s been waiting for this moment, waiting to unleash all the pent-up anger and frustration that’s been eating away at him since the day you walked into that PT room with your heart shattered.

Logan staggers back, his expression twisting with fury. He recovers quickly, launching himself at Rafe with a wild swing, but Rafe is ready. He dodges the punch and counters with another one of his own, this time aiming for Logan’s ribs. He can feel the impact reverberate up his arm, but it’s not enough. He wants more.

“Come on!” He shouts, face red from all the pent-up anger simmering inside him. “Is that all you’ve fucking got?”

Logan grits his teeth, struggling to keep his balance. “You’re fucking crazy, Cameron!”

“You haven't seen shit," He spits back, landing another punch to Logan’s midsection. “But at least I know how to treat someone right.”

Logan’s eyes widen, the realization of what this is really about dawning on him. “This is about her? You’re seriously going to throw down over some girl?”

Rafe’s vision goes red at the mention of you, the casual way Logan dismisses you as “some girl.” He doesn’t care that he’s going too far, doesn’t care that the refs are probably going to break this up any second. All he cares about is making Logan feel a fraction of the pain he caused you.

“You don’t get to talk about her,” He growls, grabbing Logan by the collar and yanking him close. “You don’t even get to think about her.”

Logan tries to shove him off, but Rafe is relentless, landing punch after punch, each one fueled by the memory of you crying in his arms, by the way your voice trembled when you told him what Logan had done.

By now, the refs are on them, trying to pull Rafe away, but he isn’t finished. Not yet.

“You don’t deserve her,” He hisses through clenched teeth, his fist connecting with Logan’s face one last time before the refs finally manage to separate them. “You never did.”

Logan stumbles back, his face a bloody mess, and for a brief moment, he feels a little satisfaction. But it isn’t enough to stop the anger, the frustration, the overwhelming need to protect you from ever being hurt like that again.

He sits in the penalty box, his chest heaving as he tries to calm the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He can barely hear the crowd over the sound of his own heartbeat, but he knows they’re going wild. The fight has been brutal, and he’s given Logan exactly what he deserved. But as the rush of the fight starts to fade, he starts to overthink: how will you react?

The game ends with a hard-fought win for his team, but the victory feels hollow. As his teammates celebrate on the ice, Rafe’s thoughts are miles away, fixated on you. What if you’re pissed? What if you think he’s overstepped?

After the final whistle, he makes his way to the locker room, his mind racing. He’s about to strip off his gear when he hears footsteps approaching, quick and determined. Before he can even turn around, the locker room door flies open, and there you are, marching straight toward him with a look on your face that he can’t quite read.

Shit. You’re mad.

“Hey, listen,” he starts, his voice low and uncertain as he holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I know that might’ve looked bad out there, but I swear—”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you grab the front of his jersey and pull him down to your level, crashing your lips against his with a force that takes him completely off guard.

His mind goes blank as all he can focus on is the way your mouth moves against his. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before—raw, heated, desperate.

His hands instantly find your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you flush against him, the heat of your bodies mingling in the small space between you. Your kiss is wild, all tongues and teeth, and when you bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to make him groan, he realizes this is real.

You’re kissing him.

“Fuck,” he gasps against your mouth, his voice ragged with need. But you don’t give him a chance to catch his breath, your hands threading through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving with a feverish intensity that makes his head spin.

You break away just long enough to breathe, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

The way you say it, half-growled, half-breathed, sends a shiver down his spine, and he can’t help the sound that escapes him, somewhere between a moan and a groan. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he fights to keep control, but you aren’t making it easy.

You press yourself even closer, your body flush against his as you kiss him again, harder this time, more demanding. Your tongue sweeps into his mouth, claiming him, and Rafe is more than happy to let you take the lead. He’s never felt anything like this before—this urgency, this hunger that makes him want to lose himself in you completely.

You tug on his hair, tilting his head back to give yourself better access, and Rafe nearly loses it right then and there. He can feel his self-control slipping, can feel the primal need to devour you taking over, but he doesn’t care. All he can think about is how badly he wants you, how desperately he needs to feel more of you.

When you pull back, your lips are swollen and glistening, your breathing just as ragged as his. You stare at him, your eyes dark with lust, and Rafe feels his heart hammering in his chest, each beat echoing with the desire pulsing through him.

“Been waiting for over an hour to do that,” you breathe.

Rafe’s hands roam up your back, tracing the curve of your spine as he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear. When he reaches the curve of your ass, he doesn’t stop. His fingers grip you there, kneading the soft flesh with a pressure that makes you gasp into his mouth, your hips instinctively pressing against his.

“Then do it again,” he murmurs, “Do whatever the hell you want to me.”

His hands are everywhere, sliding up your sides, his thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts before moving back down to cup your ass again, pulling you even closer against him. You can feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your thigh, and it sends a wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You want him—more than you ever wanted anyone—and the way he’s looking at you tells you he feels the same.

Rafe lets out a low, almost guttural sound as you rock your hips against him, the pressure making him tighten his grip on you, holding you in place as he grounds himself against you. The sensation makes your breath hitch, a needy whimper escaping your lips that only spurs him on.

“Fucking idiot,” you whisper again, your voice rough with desire as you nip at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth before soothing the bite with your tongue.

His reaction is immediate. He groans, a sound so deep and full of need that it sends a shiver down your spine. His hands flex against you, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he’s trying not to loseg control completely.

But you can feel it—the way he’s trembling, the way his breath is coming in harsh, uneven pants against your neck. He kisses you again, hard and desperate, his mouth moving against yours with a fervor that matches the wild pounding of your heart

But just when you think you can’t take it any longer, the sound of footsteps echoes outside the door, snapping you both back to reality. You pull back, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, your mind spinning with the intensity of what had just happened. He’s just staring at you, his eyes glazed with desire, his lips swollen and red from your kisses. He looks as wrecked as you feel, and it takes everything in you not to drag him back down for more.

But you know you shouldn’t. Not here. Not now.

Except there’s no fucking way Rafe is letting you go now. He doesn’t say a word. His eyes lock onto yours, dark and filled with a raw need that makes your breath catch.

He doesn’t ask; doesn’t need to. He’s done waiting, done pretending he can hold back.

Without another word, he pulls you toward the locker room, his grip firm and unyielding as he leads you through the maze of benches and lockers. Your heart races as he pushes open the door to the showers, the sound of the water echoing off the tile walls. The room is empty, the air thick with steam, and the second you step inside, he’s pouncing on you. Clothes are gone in the blink of an eye.

He presses you up against the cold tile wall, his body flushes against yours as his lips find yours again, hands running over your wet skin. His mouth moves from your lips to your neck, his tongue tracing a path down to your collarbone as he kisses, licks, and nips at your sensitive skin. You whimper, fingers threading through his hair as he drops to his knees in front of you, his lips trailing down your stomach.

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of the hot water and his hot mouth on your skin driving you insane. "If you don’t-" your voice trembles with need as he spreads your thighs apart, “Fuck.”

He looks up at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

His hands grip your hips firmly. Without another word, he buries his face between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sudden, intense pleasure makes you cry out, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders as he licks and sucks, his tongue working you over with a skill that leaves you gasping for breath. It’s not fair.

This man can’t possibly be real. The water splashes against your back, masking the sounds of your moans as he takes his time, driving you closer and closer to the edge with every swirl of his tongue. Your body trembles, your legs barely able to hold you up as he pushes you higher, his hands tightening on your hips as he holds you in place.

"Oh my god," you moan, your voice breaking as you feel the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up until you are crying out his name, your body shuddering as your orgasm crashes over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure rips through you.

Rafe keeps his mouth on you, drawing out your release until you are trembling, your legs shaking as you struggle to catch your breath.

Truth is, he doesn’t want to stop. He can’t get enough now that he has finally gotten a taste. He stands back up, his hands running up your sides as he kisses you again, the taste of you still on his lips. You can feel him, hard and ready against your stomach, and it only drives you crazier. Of course, this man had to be fucking huge.

Without breaking the kiss, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall as his hands grip your hips, pulling them back slightly. You brace yourself against the tile, your body arching as you felt the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"Oh Rafe," you groan out his name, your voice low and needy and he growls softly in response, his breath hot against your ear as he slowly pushes inside you, filling you inch by inch until he is buried to the hilt.

Rafe nearly passes out from the sight. Watching himself disappear inside you has to be his favorite sight in the entire world.

“So fucking pretty.” The feeling of him stretching you, filling you completely, is almost too much to bear, and you let out a long, low moan as he begins to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that drives you wild. The water cascades over your bodies as he thrusts into you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks you with a steady, unrelenting rhythm.

Each thrust pushes you harder against the wall, the cool tile a pleasing contrast to the heat between you. You can barely think, barely breathe, lost in the sensation of Rafe moving inside you, his cock hitting all the right spots with every thrust. The sound of the water mixed with the wet slap of skin against skin, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to consume you.

"God, you feel so fucking good," He groans, his voice rough with desire as he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Faster," you gasp, your voice pleading as you push back against him, needing more, needing everything. He doesn’t hesitate. His pace quickening, his thrusts coming harder and faster as he drives you both toward the edge. The intensity of it is overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire as he fucks you with a raw, desperate need that matches your own. Just when you think you couldn’t take any more, you heard footsteps outside the shower, followed by a voice calling out.

"Cameron? You in here, man?" Rafe freezes, his body tense, his cock still buried deep inside you as he glances toward the door, his breath ragged.

"Yeah, I’m here," he calls back, trying to keep his voice steady, though you could hear the strain in it.

"We’re heading downtown to the bar. You coming?"

He looks down at you, all too pleased with himself, "Not tonight," he replies, his voice thick with lust. "Got something else to take care of."

There’s a pause, then a chuckle from the other side of the door. "Alright, man. Have fun."

The footsteps retreat, and the moment the door closes, he’s moving again, thrusting into you with a renewed urgency, the near-interruption only heightening the intensity of the moment. You moan loudly, your body quaking as he drives into you with a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending you spiraling closer and closer to another orgasm.

The combination of the heat, the steam, the feel of Rafe fucking you so hard is too much, the almost getting caught. You feel yourself losing it, your entire body tightening as you reach the edge once again.

"Come for me," He growls, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you are sure there will be bruises tomorrow. His words push you over, and you cry out as your orgasm tears through you, your body convulsing around him as the pleasure crashes over you in waves.

Rafe follows right behind you, his hips slamming into yours one last time as he comes, his body shuddering as he fills you to the brim with a low, guttural groan.

For a long moment, neither of you move, both of you panting, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of it all. The water continues to pour over you, washing away the evidence of your encounter as you slowly come down from the high.

Finally, he pulls out, turning you around to face him as he cups your face in his hands, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender kiss that’s so different to the rough, desperate way he just fucked you.

"You’re a fucking idiot," you whisper against his lips, a small, breathless laugh escaping you.

He chuckles softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked down at you, drowning in affection. "Yeah, but I’m your fucking idiot."

He was fighting every fucking player on that ice ring if it meant having you again.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #hockey!rafe

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wannab-urs · 1 month

Text

Morning Ride

Pairing: Logan Howlett x f!reader

Summary: Logan wakes you up the morning after your motorcycle excursion OR Logan fucks you soft and sweet because you’re still sore.

Warnings: smut! Somnophilia, morning sex, soft and sweet this time, mostly, pet names, no use of y/n, mostly Logan POV so there’s the barest hint of angst related to him not aging and tragically losing everyone he loves, part 2 of Handlebars but can be read standalone, Logan can pick you up because he has mutant strength <3 WC: 1.1k

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after you get railed on the motorcycle and the contrast of how Logan would treat you. So here’s that. Thanks to @pedgito and @pr0ximamidnight for the read throughs <3

Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Logan wakes to early morning sunlight streaming through your gauzy curtains and you wrapped around him like a koala. He looks down at your peaceful face, nestled comfortably against his chest. He wants nothing more than to make you happy, all the time, in whatever way he can. You’re precious to him. He’s lost everyone he’s ever loved, knows he will lose you too. He’ll savor this while he can, make you feel good while he can.

He carefully extricates himself from your grip, settling himself between your thighs. You’re still bare after last night, your shirt lost somewhere over the edge of the bed.

Your pussy is still a little swollen, probably sore after he made you come so many times. He gently licks a stripe through your center and you whimper in your sleep. You unconsciously try to close your legs, but he’s got them spread open on his broad shoulders. He licks you again, adding a little more pressure to your clit. Your hands search for him, one burying itself in his hair and the other grasping at his arm. He buries his tongue inside you, licking up your slick, before flattening his tongue against your slit.

You wake up with a sleepy little moan, the sound going straight to his dick.

“Logan?”

He presses a kiss to your mound before answering. “Yeah, baby?”

“Please don’t stop.” Your voice is airy and desperate.

He looks up at you, all sleep mussed hair and bleary eyes and absolute perfection. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

Logan licks you in earnest now, drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. He pushes one finger into your entrance and you whine. He pulls back, looking up at you with a crease in his brow.

“Still sore. But don’t stop… please,” you gasp. He’ll stop if he thinks he’s hurting you, and you cannot have that.

He presses his finger the rest of the way inside you, curling it upward into your sweet spot and massaging you there. His tongue on your clit is relentless and you feel your orgasm bubbling up. You bury both hands in his hair and grind your hips against his face. Logan loves how lost you get in him, giving yourself entirely over to him so that he can make you feel good. He adds another finger, stretching your walls around his thick digits.

You’re shuddering against him almost instantly, walls clenching around his finger. Your soft moans spur him on and he licks you through your high, until you’re pushing him away, oversensitive. He sits up on his knees and looks down at you, fucked out and smiling blissfully.

“Come here,” you whine.

And he’s powerless to resist. He crawls up your body, lips dragging from mound to navel to each of your breasts. He presses another kiss to your throat before finally landing at your lips. You kiss him deeply, tongues brushing against each other. The heady taste of your own arousal on his tongue makes you whine into his mouth.

He notches the head of his cock at your entrance. You squirm beneath him, trying to take him in deeper.

“Careful, baby. You’re still sore,” he mutters against your lips.

“Not that sore. Fuck me, Logan.”

Again, powerless to resist anything you ask for, he pushes in until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Your fingernails drag down his back, leaving bright red trails that heal almost immediately. He drops his forehead to yours, your breath comingling with his in the scant space between your lips. You both savor the feeling of him inside you, two halves of a whole forming into one, your bodies completely intertwined.

He pulls out slowly, only a few inches before he pushes back in, like he can’t stand to leave the heat of your body for long. He sets a slow, gentle rhythm, grinding his wiry pubic hair against your clit with every thrust. Your hands find the back of his head, wrapping his hair in your fingers and tugging him into you.

He kisses you again, softly on the lips, your nose, your forehead. Your eyes, when they’re open, look dazed, still heavy from sleep and made heavier by the slow drag of his cock in and out of your pussy. His own eyes nearly roll back in his head from how good you feel, but he determinedly keeps them trained on your face. He loves to watch you fall apart.

He sits back and pushes one of your legs up onto his shoulder before leaning forward again, deepening his thrusts so that he hits a spot inside you no one else ever has. Your hands tighten in his hair and you tug him back down to kiss you again. He increases his pace a little, still not enough to make you come, but enough to get you whimpering into his mouth.

“Please, Logan. Please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Lemme come. Wanna come for you.”

What kind of man would deny you that pleasure? He certainly can’t. He sits up on his knees and pulls your other leg onto his shoulder before leaning over you.

“Gonna let me fill you up again, baby?” He starts slow and deep, relentlessly pounds into you, hitting that spot with every thrust and making you see stars.

“Yes, Logan! Please!”

He feels you shatter around him, your pussy squeezing him so tightly. He thrusts into you one two three more times before spilling inside you, filling you so full his spend leaks out around his cock and down between your thighs. He stays buried inside as he lets your legs slide off his shoulders. He presses kisses to any skin he can get his mouth on until you pull him back up to your lips.

“Good morning,” you giggle against his lips, a smile forming on your own.

“Good morning, baby.” He smirks at you and drops a kiss to your forehead.

You bask in the afterglow for a little while before the mess between your thighs grows sticky and uncomfortable.

“I need a shower…”

Logan slowly pulls out of you with a deep groan and stands up. He lifts you out of the bed and into his impossibly strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter and gets the water running.

You hop down and follow him into the shower, pressing your naked body against his. He gently runs a washcloth over every part of your body, lovingly, reverently even. You do the same for him, returning a softness he isn’t used to receiving. A softness he only gives to you and only gets from you.

After the shower, you end up back in bed, not willing to separate from him just yet. He cradles you against his chest, holding you close while he can.

“You made a mess on my bike last night,” he mumbles into your ear.

“I’ll clean it up later, Logan. Promise.” You nuzzle your face into his body and settle in for a few more hours of sleep.

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awkward-walking-potato · 1 month

Note

Just looking through some of your work and MA'AM. Not to be a straight woman, but oh m y god ohm yg od oh my g od-

So prompt: Logan is pretty good at casual possessive gestures. I wanna read a reaction to reader's possessive gestures towards him.

I'm thinking hand on thigh, hand on waist, staring, putting space between someone else and him, sky's the limit

You could make it a 5+1 format (I am a sucker for those)

Five Times You Were Possessive of Logan, and the One Time He Was Possessive of You

1. Hand on His Thigh

The first time it happens, it’s completely unplanned. You’re at the bar, sitting next to Logan as the two of you chat with some friends. He’s his usual stoic self, gruff but present, the warmth of his body a comforting presence next to you. As the conversation continues, you notice someone across the room eyeing Logan with more interest than you’re comfortable with.

Without thinking, your hand moves to rest on his thigh under the table. The action is instinctive, a way to ground yourself and subtly remind whoever’s watching that Logan isn’t available. The moment your fingers curl around the muscle of his leg, you feel him tense ever so slightly, the briefest hitch in his breath. He doesn’t say anything, just glances down at your hand before looking back at you with a raised eyebrow.

You offer him a small, almost shy smile, as if to say, This okay?

Logan’s lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk, and his large, rough hand covers yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t move your hand away, doesn’t ask any questions. But there’s a look in his eyes that’s both amused and a little bit surprised, like he’s pleased with your boldness.

He leans in close, his voice low in your ear. “You don’t gotta worry, darlin’. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

2. Hand on His Waist

The next time it happens, it’s at a crowded event. Some kind of gathering at Xavier’s that’s brought in mutants and allies from all over. You and Logan have been mingling for a while, but the room is packed, and you find yourself getting separated from him as people move between you.

You spot him across the room, chatting with Jean and Scott, and feel an inexplicable urge to be close to him. Navigating through the crowd, you slip between the bodies until you reach his side, where you slide your hand around his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Logan stiffens slightly, glancing down at you with an unreadable expression. For a second, you worry that you’ve overstepped, but then his arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side. He continues the conversation without missing a beat, but you notice the subtle way he shifts his stance, positioning himself just a bit more protectively between you and the crowd.

His hand lingers on your shoulder long after the conversation ends, thumb tracing idle circles against your skin.

3. Staring

It’s been a long day, and you’re sitting in the common room, watching Logan across the space. He’s talking with Ororo, something serious by the look on their faces. You know it’s important, that they’re discussing something related to the latest mission, but you can’t help the way your eyes linger on him.

He’s all rough edges and raw power, yet there’s something about him that’s magnetic, something that draws you in despite the gruff exterior. Maybe it’s the way he’s always so intensely himself, unapologetically so, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention—like you’re the one thing in the world that makes sense to him.

You realize you’ve been staring when Ororo glances over at you and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips. Logan follows her gaze and finds you looking right at him, your eyes soft, full of something you can’t quite name.

He tilts his head slightly, his gaze narrowing as if he’s trying to figure you out. For a moment, you think about looking away, but you don’t. You just keep staring, letting him see that he’s the only one in the room you care about.

Eventually, he huffs out a low chuckle, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Ororo. But he’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, and you can tell that he’s more focused on you than whatever they’re discussing.

4. Putting Space Between Him and Someone Else

It’s a lazy afternoon, the kind where everyone at the mansion is doing their own thing. You and Logan are sitting outside, enjoying the fresh air, when one of the younger mutants—someone new and a bit too eager—approaches him. They start talking, standing a little too close for your liking, and you can see the way Logan shifts uncomfortably.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re on your feet and moving towards them. Sliding yourself between Logan and the newcomer, you offer them a friendly smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey,” you say, cutting in smoothly. “Logan and I were just about to head out. Maybe you can catch him later?”

The newcomer looks a bit surprised, but they nod, glancing between you and Logan before backing off with a mumbled apology. You watch them leave, then turn to find Logan looking at you with an expression that’s both amused and impressed.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” he teases, but there’s a warmth in his tone that tells you he doesn’t mind one bit.

You shrug, trying to play it off. “Just didn’t like the way they were crowding you.”

Logan’s smirk widens, and he reaches out to pull you close, his hands resting on your hips. “Gotta admit, I kinda like it when you get all protective.”

5. Hand on His Chest

The fifth time is more deliberate. You’re out on a mission, tensions running high as you and Logan work together to neutralize a threat. When it’s finally over, you’re both exhausted, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

As the team regroups, one of the other mutants—someone who’s always been a bit too friendly with Logan—sidles up to him, laying a hand on his arm as they talk. You feel a sharp pang of something hot and possessive in your chest, and before you can second-guess yourself, you’re right there beside him.

You place your hand on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath your palm, and lean in closer than necessary. “You alright, Logan?” you ask, your voice laced with concern.

Logan’s eyes flicker with surprise, but then he smiles, his hand covering yours as he nods. “Yeah, I’m good,” he replies, his gaze never leaving yours.

The other mutant quickly excuses themselves, and Logan turns his full attention to you. “You know,” he says, his voice low, “I’m startin’ to think you don’t like sharin’.”

You give him a sly grin. “Maybe I don’t.”

Logan chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that sends shivers down your spine. “Good,” he murmurs, pulling you even closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “’Cause I don’t either.”

Logan’s Turn

The one time Logan decides to return the favor, it catches you completely off guard.

You’re in the kitchen, chatting with Bobby as you wait for your coffee to brew. The conversation is light, filled with jokes and teasing banter. Bobby’s always been a bit of a flirt, but it’s harmless, and you’re laughing at something he’s said when Logan walks in.

Before you can even greet him, Logan is suddenly right behind you, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You can feel the solid heat of him, the way his grip is firm, almost claiming. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “What’s so funny?”

Bobby’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in the scene, and you can see the flash of understanding in his expression. “Uh, nothing, man. Just talking.” Bobby backs away with a nervous chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll, uh, catch you later.”

As Bobby quickly exits the kitchen, you turn to look up at Logan, still caught in his embrace. There’s a look in his eyes that’s both playful and intense, and you realize with a start that he’s the one feeling possessive now.

“Logan?” you ask, a bit breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

He just grunts, the sound more of a satisfied hum than anything else, and his hand tightens on your waist. “Just didn’t like the way he was lookin’ at you,” he admits gruffly, but there’s a hint of vulnerability in his voice, like he’s not used to feeling this way.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you lean into him, your own hand finding its way to his chest, fingers tracing the familiar contours. “Guess we’re both a little possessive, huh?”

Logan huffs out a low laugh, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice rumbling against your skin. “But I’m not complaining.”

You stand there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away as you both realize just how much you mean to one another. In that moment, it doesn’t matter who’s being possessive or why—what matters is that you belong to each other, and neither of you would have it any other way.

#marvel imagine #x men imagine #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine one shot #wolverine #deadpool imagine

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d1stalker · 1 month

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I Want You [Logan Howlett]

Summary: Logan is jealous of you and Scott's friendship, not knowing your true feelings.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please. fem/afab!reader. brief argument, logan being stubborn comme d'hab, making out, oral, riding, you get the idea ;)

WC: 2.9k - MASTERLIST

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the X-Mansion grounds. You find yourself on the patio, leaning against the railing, watching as the last rays of sunlight dip below the trees. The tranquility of the moment is soothing, a brief escape from the chaos that often fills your days.

Your mind drifts to earlier that day, when you and Scott had been working together in the training room. He's always been a good friend—someone you can rely on when you need advice or a steady hand in a crisis. Scott had patiently helped you fine-tune your abilities, offering encouragement and constructive feedback.

"You're really getting the hang of it," Scott had said with a smile as you both took a break, sitting on the edge of the training mat. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Scott," you had replied, grateful for his support. "Couldn't have done it without your help."

He had shrugged, a modest grin on his face. "We make a good team. It's nice to have someone who gets it, you know?"

You had nodded, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship between you. Scott was like the brother you never had, someone who understood the challenges you faced and never judged you for them.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching breaks your reverie. You recognize them immediately—Logan.

"You and Summers seem to be gettin' pretty close."

You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Scott? We're just friends, Logan. You know that."

He crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm standin'."

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can’t help but let it spill over. "And where exactly are you standing? Lurking in the shadows, jumping to conclusions?"

His eyes narrow, jaw clenching. "I'm just callin' it like I see it."

"You don't see anything," you retort, matching his intensity. "You're too busy looking for problems that aren't there."

He steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "I see the way he looks at you."

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "And how do I look at him, Logan?"

"Like he hung the damn moon," Logan mutters, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"That's rich coming from the guy who's too stubborn to see what's right in front of him," you snap back, heart pounding.

He pauses, taken aback by your words. "What do you mean by that?"

You take a deep breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "I mean, I'm not in love with Scott. I'm in love with you. But you're too busy being jealous and stubborn to notice."

He blinks, surprise flickering across his features. His defenses falter for a moment, and you see the real him beneath the rugged exterior. "Me? Why the hell would you—"

"Because you're you, Logan," you interrupt, voice softer now. "You're gruff and infuriating, but you're also brave and kind. You see through the facade I put up, and you make me want to be better."

He looks at you, his hardened exterior cracking. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you,” he says, quietly.

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. The contact is electric, as always, grounding both of you in the moment. "You don't get to decide that for me. I've made my choice."

He stares at you, a mix of disbelief and longing in his eyes. "All this time... and I was just bein' a damn fool."

"Yeah, you were,” you say with a smile, the tension between you dissipating.

Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess I should apologize for actin' like a jerk, huh?"

You nod, teasingly. "That would be a good start."

He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that makes your heart race. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was stupid, and I let my jealousy get the best of me."

You smile, feeling the last remnants of your anger melt away. "Apology accepted, but you're gonna have to make it up to me."

Tthe familiar glint returns to his eyes as he smirks. "Oh, I will. Count on it."

A comfortable silence falls between you. The night air is cool and refreshing, and you can hear the distant sounds of laughter from inside the mansion.

"Why didn’t you ever say anything?" Logan asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.

"I guess I was scared," you admit. "Scared of ruining what we have, of pushing you away. You’re not exactly easy to read."

He chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one who’s scared. I’m not good at this...feelin’ stuff. Always thought it’d get in the way."

"It doesn’t have to," you say, hoping your words convey the sincerity you feel. "You don’t have to do this alone, Logan. We can figure it out together."

He nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You share a moment of quiet understanding. For once, there’s no need for words. You both know what this means.

"Come on," Logan says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Let’s get outta here for a while."

"Where to?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he shrugs. "Anywhere but here. I hear there’s a nice little spot by the lake where the stars look like they’re close enough to touch."

You laugh, "Alright, lead the way.”

---

The walk to the lake is peaceful, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The sound of your footsteps on the gravel path blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. You and Logan walk side by side, your fingers occasionally brushing against each other, only feeding the tension that seems to be growing as each moment passes.

When you reach the lake, the water shimmers under the starlight, a breathtaking view that makes you catch your breath. Logan finds a spot on the grassy bank, and you settle down beside him, lying back to gaze up at the sky.

"It's beautiful here," you whisper, feeling the tranquility of the moment seep into your bones.

Logan nods, his gaze fixed on you instead of the stars. "Yeah, it is."

His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, grounding you in the reality of this moment.

You tilt your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. There's a softness there that you haven't seen before, a vulnerability that makes your heart swell. "I've wanted this for a long time, Logan."

He smiles, a rare and genuine expression that lights up his features. "Me too. Guess I was too stubborn to admit it."

You chuckle softly, reaching up to trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. "I like this side of you."

He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not careful. The world around you fades away as Logan leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It's slow and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepens into something more urgent and heated.

You shift closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his hand slides up your back, pulling you even closer. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself as the kiss intensifies, leaving you breathless.

Breaking away briefly, his forehead rests against yours as he catches his breath. "You sure about this?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your own breath coming in short gasps. "Absolutely."

With a growl of approval, Logan captures your lips again, the kiss filled with a hunger that leaves you dizzy. He shifts, pulling you with him as he rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his hips. His hand traces down your side, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The world around you feels distant and unimportant, the only thing that matters is the man with you and the way he makes you feel.

As the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the moment, the passion and intensity of it all consuming you. Slowly, you rock back and forth, grinding your hot core against his growing bulge. Something akin to a growl releases from his throat, as his hands tighten their grip on you.

Breaking the kiss, Logan trails his lips down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him to continue his journey, savouring the sensation of his mouth against you. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt, pausing to look up at you. With deliberate slowness, he slides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it with a flick of his wrist. He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing the curves of your waist with a gentle reverence.

“Wow,” he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

His eyes roam over you appreciatively, lingering on your bare skin. His words and gaze make your heart race and heat flood your cheeks.

“Says you,” you murmur, feeling a heady mix of vulnerability and desire under his gaze.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he whispers, flipping you over so you’re now on your back as he hovers above you. “I’ve thought about this moment more times than I can count.”

He begins to kiss the valley between your breasts, hands never ceasing their exploration of your body. Your grasp finds the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers trace over his muscles, delighting in the way they ripple beneath your touch.

Logan grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves even lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach. Each touch is electric, leaving a path of heat in its wake. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs. With your pants discarded, Logan settles himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to make room for himself. His touch is firm yet gentle, and you shiver in anticipation as he leans in, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.

He starts with soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasing you with his lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. The feeling sends a thrill through you, making your heart race and your body ache for more. Finally, Logan focuses his attention on your centre, his mouth moving with expert precision as he tastes you. The first touch of his tongue is like fire, a sensation so intense that it steals your breath away. You gasp, your hands finding their way to his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure begins to build.

He works you with a practiced ease, his tongue tracing patterns that have you arching into him, seeking more of the exquisite sensations he’s giving you. He alternates between gentle flicks and firmer strokes, finding a rhythm that leaves you trembling beneath him. Your soft moans and gasps fill the night air, mingling with the sound of the lake and the distant rustle of leaves. Logan responds to your every sound, adjusting his movements, his sole focus on drawing out your pleasure.

As the tension coils within you, winding tighter with each deft movement of his tongue, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Logan senses your impending climax, his efforts doubling as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. With a final flick of his tongue at your clit with gentle, firm pressure, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. The world dissolves around you as the waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.

Logan stays with you through it all, his touch gentle and reassuring as you come down from your high. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh before moving back up to lie beside you, gathering you into his arms as you catch your breath. “Logan,” you whisper, feeling a warmth that’s more than just physical spreading through you.

He smiles, a satisfied, tender expression on his face as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs.

You shift slightly, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The sight of him, hair tousled and eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire, stirs something within you. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

Responding eagerly to your initiation, the kiss deepens as your hands explore each other with a renewed sense of curiosity and hunger, as if he didn’t just make you finish with his mouth. You push him gently onto his back, straddling his hips as you trade positions once again, trailing kisses down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tense under your touch.

Your hands make quick work of his belt and jeans, tugging them down to reveal the hard length of him. He’s beautiful. Logan’s breath hitches as you take him in your hand, stroking him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that draws a low groan from his lips.

You lower yourself further, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of him, tasting and teasing until his hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you with a mix of urgency and need. The sounds he makes, the way he reacts to your touch, only spurs you on, and you take him deeper, reveling in the way his body responds to yours.

“Darlin’,” Logan rasps, his voice strained with pleasure, “you’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smile against him, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes matching the fire burning within you. “Well, don’t go dying on me now,” you tease, moving back up to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you settle over him. You barely break the kiss as you grab his length and slowly sit down on it. The pleasure of being filled by him draws a gasp from your lips, and a hearty groan vibrates underneath you.

You brace yourself against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your palms, as you begin to move. The rhythm starts slow and steady, each movement deliberate as you rise and fall, taking him deeper with each movement of your hips. Soon enough, you feel him begin to thrust up into you, matching your pace, pounding into you even deeper than before.

Logan’s grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you pick up the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sound of your breathy sighs and his low groans fill the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves and the lapping of the lake against the shore.

His eyes remain locked on yours, a dark and heated gaze that stokes the fire within you. You feel the tension coiling tight, winding with each movement until it’s all-consuming, a need that demands release.

“I’m close,” you gasp, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

The tension within you builds to a crescendo, a tidal wave of sensation that sweeps you away. With one final movement, you tumble over the edge, your release crashing over you in a symphony of pleasure that leaves you trembling in his arms.

He follows soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he finds his own release, his hands finding and squeezing your breasts while his body shudders beneath you.

When the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you smile against his skin, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that only comes from being with him.

The night air cools the heat between you, and you nestle against Logan’s side, feeling safe and cherished in the aftermath of your shared passion. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you as you bask in the warmth of his embrace.

“Wow,” you whisper, a soft laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, the stars reflected in his eyes. “That was…”

“Incredible,” he finishes for you, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got me all figured out, darlin’.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. “I think we’ve got eachother figured out.”

“Yeah, we do,” Logan agrees, pulling you closer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As the night stretches on, you find comfort and peace in Logan’s embrace, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful and real. You’ve found a home in each other’s arms—a place where you truly belong.

---------

A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut yikes lol please leave feedback!

#wolverine smut #wolverine #deadpool 3 #logan howlett #deadpool and wolverine #james howlett #hugh jackman #deadpool movie #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #x men #smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine imagine #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic

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malavera · 11 days

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The Babysitter (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: you’re a babysitter who secretly has an ongoing fling with Logan, the dad.

pairing: origins!dilf!logan x babysitter!reader

warnings: SMUT! MDNI. AU, Legal age gap, Infidelity (logan’s married), daddykink, unprotected sex, grinding, slight choking, foul language

check out my Logan Howlett's masterlist here!

What was once an accident, can be the start of something new. But not exactly a prude thing to do.

You were crazy to think that you'd really have the house to yourself, after he told you he'd be out running some errands. He didn't specify his return, you shouldn't have been that stupid.

The house was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant rumble of thunder in the night sky. You had just put little James Howlett to bed, his small body finally succumbing to sleep after a day full of energy and laughter. The night was yours now, a rare moment of solitude in the Howlett household.

You thought you had the house to yourself. Logan had left earlier, a vague mention of errands pulling him out into the stormy night. You felt a thrill of excitement at the idea of some privacy, a chance to indulge in thoughts you’d been trying to push away all day.

Logan Howlett. The hot, rugged father with that brooding intensity and a body carved from years of hard work. Every glance he sent your way felt like a physical touch, setting your nerves on fire and leaving you breathless.

You made your way to the living room, the dim light from the streetlamp outside casting a soft glow across the space. The couch was still warm from where Logan had sat earlier, and his scent—woodsy, with a hint of smoke—hung in the air, intoxicating and irresistible. You sank into the cushions, the cool fabric pressing against your skin as you leaned back, closing your eyes, imagining him there with you.

Your thoughts drifted, and soon your hand was sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing over your skin as you conjured up his image—Logan, with his piercing eyes and strong hands. The thought of him alone made your breath quicken, your heart pounding in your chest. You let out a soft moan, imagining his lips on your neck, his hands exploring every inch of you.

But just as you began to lose yourself in the fantasy, the front door creaked open. Your eyes snapped open, panic gripping you as you heard the unmistakable sound of heavy boots on the hardwood floor. You froze, heart hammering in your chest as you realized Logan was back.

He stepped inside, shaking rain from his hair, his jacket soaked through from the downpour outside. He hadn’t seen you yet, and for a moment, you thought you might still be safe. But as he turned, his gaze fell on you, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

Your breath caught, heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized you were caught in the act. Logan’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face before his expression hardened, his gaze darkening as it moved over you.

There was no hiding now, no pretending this wasn’t what it was. You could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck, but there was something else there, too—something thrilling about being caught, about the way Logan was looking at you now.

His voice was low, a rough edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t find the words. All you could do was stare back at him, your body still tingling from the heat of your fantasy, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Logan took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you felt your pulse quicken. “Do you know what you're playing at?” His voice was a growl now, low and dangerous, but there was something in his gaze—something dark and hungry that sent a jolt of electricity through you.

Caught between fear and desire, you could only nod, a small, shaky movement that seemed to amuse him. A slow, wicked smile spread across his lips, and he took another step toward you, his presence filling the room, overwhelming and intoxicating. In that moment, you knew this was no accident. You were on the edge of something you couldn’t control, something sinfully addictive that had just begun.

At one point, you did try to get out of it. But he kept offering more money and more support. Logan is aware how financially unstable you are to support your mother, and your higher education, so he kept creating more offers for you to earn extra money.

"Stay for a little bit will ya? I need you to massage my back a bit, I'll give you extra $20 how's that sound?" — "I'm about to watch this new movie, don't go yet. I'll give you extra $30." — "Have this dinner with me will ya? I'll have you extra $15."

Now the requests have never been taboo right? There's more to this than meets the eye. You'd end up sucking his cock, or him using your pussy all he wants because actually what he really needs, is only to have his cock buried deep in a tight warm cunt. And that's what you are, a cunt to use for him since the Missus Howlett is nowhere to be found. He's convinced that she's probably cheating on him out there, which he stopped giving a fuck after he spent time with you.

You had wished he'd seen you more than just a pussy to fuck though. More than just a cum dump. You love him, you really do. The more you kept doing this with him, the more you fall for him.

Tonight, you had decided it was time to let go. The money, the passion—the things that once seemed so vital—now felt like chains, pulling you deeper into a place you didn't want to be. Your dignity, your self-worth, meant more than all the fleeting pleasures Logan Howlett could offer. You knew this would be the end, but you were prepared to throw it all away.

“Logan,” you managed to say, your voice shaky as you tried to pull away from his intoxicating kiss. His lips were relentless, hungry against yours, and it took all your willpower to speak again.

“Mmh,” Logan hummed, his grip tightening around your waist, pulling you closer. His lips found yours once more, silencing your words in a heated clash of tongues and breath. His touch was urgent, as if he knew this might be the last time.

“We need—” you tried again, your voice breaking against his mouth, “to talk.”

“What is there to talk about, pretty girl?” he muttered, his breath hot against your lips. His eyes were on your mouth, not meeting yours, avoiding the truth he could sense was coming.

“I—” you began, but Logan’s lips crashed back onto yours with a force that took your breath away. He was trying to drown out your words, to keep you here in this moment with him, to make you forget whatever resolve had brought you to this point.

You pushed against his chest, a soft resistance that did little to deter him. His hands roamed your body with a familiarity that both comforted and hurt, reminding you of all the times you’d given in to this desire, all the times you’d let him have his way. But not tonight. Not this time.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of need and determination. “Look at me.”

He paused, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his breath hot on your skin. His hands stilled, one resting on your hip, the other brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His eyes slowly lifted to meet yours, and for the first time tonight, he looked at you—really looked at you.

“What’s this about?” he asked, his voice low and rough, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone. “Why are you doing this?”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was harder than you thought it would be. “I can’t keep doing this,” you said softly, each word a struggle to get out. “I can’t keep pretending that this is enough for me.”

His brows furrowed, a shadow of confusion and hurt crossing his face. “I thought… I thought this was what you wanted,” he murmured, his grip on your waist loosening.

“It was,” you admitted, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “But I want more now, Logan. I want something real, something that isn’t just in the dark, behind closed doors.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with frustration and something deeper—fear, maybe. “And you think you’ll find that somewhere else? With someone else?” You tried to focused on the tone of his voice, but you failed miserably from the way his rough palm caressing your exposed skin. The skin that was once cold now warmed because of him, and you hate it so much the way your body always succumbed to his touch, always finds a way to make his presence feels like a long lost home that you’ve always longed for.

His eyes watched the way your chest heaves, short breaths were drawn through your nose and off through your parted lips; as if he could hear your beating heart like a drum. Logan slowly leaned in, inching his face closer to yours. He gazed into your eyes, trying to search for an answer. Then to your lips, debating if he should just go for it and hoping that you’ll let whatever it is you wanted to say, go.

“Come on, bub, I’ll let you go but only if you answer me with the boy’s name who can make you cum so much better than me.” He whispered against your lips, one hand lingered to the back of your neck, the other’s gripping your thigh.

Of course there’s no one, there’s no one like him.

There’s no one that can make you cum so much better than him, even if it’s your own fingers or your toys. There’s no one really understands what your body wants, needs, craves… He’s never a stranger to your home, his own scent alone was a reminder that he is the place that you seek for warmth. And as much as you don’t want to admit it, your own lips have a mind of its own,

“There’s no one better than you.” The sentence slipped off your lips faintly, almost like a whisper.

“Good, because whatever it is you’re thinking about, stop it. Think about my cock.” His eyes traced the curve of your lips, dark with longing, before locking onto yours, filled with unspoken desire. And before you could say anything, with force; he connected his lips to yours.

It’s the kind of kiss that takes your breath away, but then replaced with a better one from him. It’s the kind of kiss that you’ll never want to break away, as you know you might thirst for more. It’s the kind of kiss that you know it’s wrong, but as long as you’re living in this moment, it never felt so right for you before. And you lied to yourself that this is totally okay when it is not. You wanted to feel okay because you’re only kissing someone’s son, someone’s past lover, but the fact is not just that; you’re kissing someone else’s husband, someone else’s father.

But if that’s the price you’ll have to pay to feel the warmth that you’ve always imagined, then please take all of your money away.

“Are you thinking about my cock, bub? Hm? Have you think about the way it’s growing each second underneath your pussy here, hm?” You softly moaned against him, pulling your head back slightly before crashing your lips back to him. “C’mon, what makes you think i’m going to ever let you go, hm? You’re too pretty for those college boys.” You gasped when he nipped your bottom lip slightly.

Logan roughly laid you down on the coach before he positioned himself on top of you. Usually you’d be the one who does all the work for him, you’d work for his cum on top of him, but tonight, after sensing you might’ve slipped away from him, it’s him who’s going to chase that high. He’d never let you go, ever.

His fingers hastily worked through his buttoned down shirt before exposing his bare chest to the cold air of the night. Your small hands reached out to trace down against his skin, feeling the bulged veins down to his happy trail. This time, he let you.

He dove down to attack the innocent skin of your neck earning a loud gasp from your mouth, your hands scratching down his back. The rough fabric of his jeans roughly graze against your clothed pussy, humping his growing boner against your throbbing pussy.

“Oh, daddy.” Moaning to his ears with your eyes fluttered shut. Logan hummed before he pulls away and yanked your tank top off of you, exposing your full-rounded breast for him to play with. His two hands groped your tits rather harshly, giving them a massage. His thumb playing with your nipples like game console, before giving them a nice twist and slight pull. Throughout this process, you were a moaning mess.

Logan cupped your breast before he put his mouth on your left tit and suck on your nipples until they felt raw. His skilled tongue flicked against your nip, sending chills down your spine, the actions throb your pussy even more.

The hand with his wedding ring on, traced down your stomach down to your skirt, and down to the band of your panties slipping his hand in. He groaned against your tits after discovering how wet and slicked your pussy are for him. No longer needed an additional of lube to push his fingers into your throbbing cunt and when he does just that with his index and middle finger, your back instantly arched and let out the loudest gasp.

Logan pulls away from your tits, his fingers starting to thrust in and out of your cunt, slow. “Feels good doesn’t it, bub? You think those college boys of yours can give you this? Huh? Hey open your eyes, look at me, look at daddy… Yeah haha there we go, I’m just getting started here, pretty girl.”

Your eyebrows pulled together, your lips parted with a moan escaping from it. Logan watched every second your face contorts into each newfound pleasure your body discovered from his fingers playing inside of you. He couldn’t wait to bury his cock deep in this tight pussy of yours. When he started to pick up the pace, the room filled with the sound of nothing but your wet pussy.

Logan edged you more with him moaning above you, “Oh yeah so good huh, bub, you’re gonna cum for me? Yeah? You wanna cum?” You couldn’t form the words he wanted to hear but as you’re about to reach your high, he roughly pulls out his fingers jolting your body upwards with surprise.

“Daddy!” You were about to protest but when Logan was tossing away his jeans and holding his thick and heavy cock on his hands, your mouth flew shut, watching him gave himself a couple of pumps.

He yanked your panties away before aiming his cock against your clit, rubbing the angry red tip on your glistening cunt as he shoved it in without a warning, earning a loud moan from you. Logan pushed himself closer to you and shush your mouth with his finger,

“Shh, baby, don’t be too loud.” He said with that daunting smirk of his.

“You’re— You’re too big daddy, I could never get used to it…” You whimpered, your eyes glistening with tears, tears from pleasure. Logan coo’ed, “I know, baby, I know, take it like a good girl, yeah?” He pulled his hips back slightly before roughly pushing against you.

His big cock hitting that perfect spot, every time. “Mmh,” Logan closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your tiny pussy hugging his thick cock tightly. “Pussy so good, of course I’m not letting you go, baby. Never.” Logan lightly laughs on top of you before he pulls away and grab your legs to put it on his shoulder.

You gasped at the newfound feeling; Logan stands on his knees with your legs straight up leaning against his chest before he pushed down folding you. And when he heard your approval moan, he started pounding into your pussy rather harshly with impeccable speed.

You were a mess. A moaning mess. You did tried to tone down the sound coming out of your throat but you couldn’t help it, his cock felt too good. Hitting the right spot, and the way he watched you with tiny grunts leaving his gritted teeth. Logan had to put his palm on your mouth with pressure hoping your sound will died down a little, he didn’t want his little boy to wake up from the sound of his dad fucking his babysitter on their couch where they usually watch Nickelodeon together.

“Goddamn it, honey, you hear that, you hear that wet sound? That’s your pussy. Fuck, she really loves me isn’t she?” Logan coo’ed at you, he was right, the room is filled with nothing but the skin slapping, and your throbbing cunt spilling a bit of your liquid.

“And you… Were going to take her away from me, from my cock…” Logan said in between thrusts, panting above you as you closed your eyes whining. “Gahh! Baby, feels so good, too good, daddy’s gonna cum so hard.” Your pussy clenches around his cock once you heard the last three words and Logan noticed this.

“Yeah you’d like that don’t you, baby? Always put daddy’s needs first. You’re such a nice girl, so smart, look at your pussy— grrhh, so good clenching me like that.” You wished you could look down and see what he meant, but you’re too distracted watching the way his face contorts into pleasure. He was so beautiful when he’s about to reach his high.

“Play with your clit baby, come on. Cum for me, cum with me.” Logan slowly slides his hand off your mouth down your throat, slightly gripping it as you moaned. The cold metal of his wedding ring serves as a sharp reminder, telling you to stop and walk away. But his cock brings you back to reality screaming otherwise. Your hand managed to go down to reach your clit and start rubbing it, fast.

“There we go baby. I know you’re close come on, be a good girl, cum for daddy.” And just like that, you came down reaching your high with a squeal. Your thighs stuttered and Logan moans watching your whole body shook. He’s still pounding inside you to reach his before he forcefully pulled out of your pussy and gives himself a couple of pumps before he shoots it out on your stomach.

Both of you were panting, trying to catch each other’s breath. Logan looks down on you, his chest heaves up and down. He looks at you deadpan, “You’re not going anywhere, You’re mine.”

And that’s a promise. But is this really what you want? Does he really mean it? Can he really take off that wedding ring?

——————

do buy me a coffee so i’m boosted to give y’all more smut to come 😌😘✨

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