#and logan is like “nah you just dramatic”

[let-roman-bite-someone]

something about the way logan describes virgil's angsty laments as "colorfully phrased" is so funny to me

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ first time - teach me how to love

chapter summary: After he dropped hints for weeks, you finally give in to Logan.

word count: 11k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is a bonus chapter! i consider this taking place before make you mine

this is the request that inspired this chapter

(you do NOT have to read the series to understand this oneshot. it's mostly smut)

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, shy!reader, mention of twirling hair, fluff, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, not proofread

series masterlist

You turned the page of your book, the hum of some old movie playing on the TV in the bedroom. You were lying between Logan’s legs, your head resting below his chin while his hand absentmindedly twirled a strand of your hair. His other hand was draped over your stomach, fingers occasionally tapping against the fabric of your shirt like he had a thought he wasn’t quite ready to share.

“You actually readin’ that thing, or just pretendin’ to so I don’t distract you?” Logan’s voice was low, lazy, the kind of tone he only used when he was completely comfortable.

You didn’t look up from your book. “I was reading.”

“Was,” he echoed, amused. His fingers gave your hair a light tug before smoothing it down again. “So that means I am distractin’ you.”

You sighed, more dramatic than necessary, but the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “Logan.”

“Darlin’.”

You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes. “You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The thing where you get all smug just ‘cause I like being around you.”

Logan smirked, his fingers trailing absently along your side now. “That a bad thing?”

You sighed again, but this time, you leaned into him a little more, letting your book rest against your chest. “No.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling against your back. “Didn’t think so.”

The movie flickered in the background, some old Western that Logan had flipped to out of habit. You doubted he was actually paying attention to it. His fingers skimmed over the hem of your shirt now, his touch slow, deliberate. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t even making a real move—just there, lingering, testing.

“Y’know,” he murmured, brushing his knuckles along the sliver of skin just above your waistband, “I don’t mind you usin’ me as a pillow, but I gotta say, sweetheart… there are other ways to get comfortable.”

You didn’t take the bait, though your cheeks warmed at his tone. “I am comfortable.”

Logan let out a quiet hum, his fingers tracing the same path over your stomach. “Could be more comfortable.”

You swallowed, shifting slightly in his hold. “Logan.”

He leaned down, his lips ghosting over the side of your neck. “Just sayin’.”

You exhaled, turning the page of your book even though you hadn’t actually processed a single word. “You’re impossible.”

“Nah,” he murmured against your skin. “Just persistent.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, determined not to let him rattle you—at least, not too much. He wasn’t wrong, though. Over the past couple of weeks, Logan had been dropping hints, pushing just enough to see how you’d react. It wasn’t anything overt—no pressure, no expectation. Just a lingering touch here, a teasing remark there, the occasional kiss that lasted a second longer than it needed to.

He was patient, but he wasn’t subtle.

“You’re thinkin’ real hard about somethin’,” Logan murmured, his breath warm against your jaw.

You cleared your throat, keeping your eyes trained on your book. “Just… taking in the plot.”

“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound convinced. His hand slid just a little higher, resting against your ribs now. “That book’s been on the same page for the last ten minutes.”

You sighed. “Maybe I just like this page.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, his lips brushing against your temple. “Yeah? What’s it about?”

You hesitated, then groaned, dropping the book onto your lap. “Fine. Maybe I haven’t been paying attention.”

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “That so?”

You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze. “You love being a distraction, don’t you?”

Logan shrugged, unbothered. “If it gets you lookin’ at me instead of that book? Yeah, sweetheart. I do.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could fire back with something witty, Logan’s hand slipped beneath your sweater, resting warm and steady against your skin. The touch wasn’t rushed or demanding—just there, grounding, like he was waiting to see if you’d pull away.

You didn’t.

Logan took that as an invitation to tilt your chin up, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips. He wasn’t pushing for more, but he wasn’t holding back, either. His fingers splayed against your stomach, his thumb brushing lazy circles over your skin.

By the time he pulled back, his smirk had softened into something quieter, something more certain. “See? Much better than readin’.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re incorrigible.”

Logan grinned. “Yeah, but you’re still sittin’ here, ain’tcha?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came to mind. Because he was right.

And, more than that, you didn’t want to be anywhere else.

---

The sound of chalk against the board was somewhat soothing—it usually meant just you and equations. But it wasn’t as soothing today since Logan was leaning against your desk watching you as you wrote across the board preparing for class.

He’d been there for the past ten minutes, saying nothing, just watching, arms crossed, that infuriating smirk lingering on his face. You’d done your best to ignore him, focusing on writing out the equation, but every time you glanced over, he was still there. Still watching.

Finally, you sighed, setting the chalk down with a small clink. “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you actually here for something?”

Logan’s smirk deepened. “Dunno. Kinda enjoyin’ the view.”

You rolled your eyes, but your face warmed at the way his voice dipped just slightly, lazy and deliberate. You turned back to the board, trying to ignore the way his presence was making it difficult to focus. “Well, unless you suddenly got real interested in quantum mechanics, you’re gonna get bored pretty quick.”

“Nah,” he said, the sound of his boots scuffing against the floor as he shifted. “You’re way more interestin’ than whatever the hell’s on that board.”

You hesitated just briefly before picking the chalk back up, your grip tightening slightly. “Logan.”

“Y/N.” He mimicked your tone perfectly, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to glare at him, but it was a mistake—because the second you looked at him, you were trapped. His eyes weren’t just amused; they were sharp, knowing, like he could see right through you. And he could, you realized with an exasperated huff.

“You’re distracting me,” you muttered, looking back at the board.

“Yeah?” Logan pushed off your desk, moving closer until he was standing right behind you. “Guess that makes us even, darlin’.”

Your breath hitched as his voice dropped, the warmth of him settling against your back even though he wasn’t touching you. It would be so easy for him to close the distance, to brush his hand against your waist, to tease you just a little further. But he didn’t. He just stood there, letting the silence stretch, making sure you felt him there.

Your grip on the chalk faltered, a small break appearing in the line of your equation.

Logan chuckled. “You sure you ain’t gettin’ distracted, sweetheart?”

You turned sharply, ready to snap at him, but the second you did, his hand lifted, fingers brushing a stray piece of chalk dust off your cheek. The touch was barely there, but it was enough to make your pulse stutter. His hand lingered for just a second longer than necessary before he let it drop.

“That’s better,” he murmured.

You swallowed, blinking up at him. His smirk had softened, something quieter settling in the way he looked at you. That look always got you—it was dangerous. It made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered to him. And maybe, in some ways, you were.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, pushing past him to grab your notes.

Logan didn’t stop you, but as you moved, he caught your wrist, his grip gentle but firm. “Hey.”

You hesitated, looking up at him again.

“Dinner later?” His thumb brushed against your wrist, barely there.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Logan’s smirk returned, but it wasn’t cocky—it was satisfied. “Good.”

And then he leaned down, his fingers holding your chin gently as he kissed your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips.

His lips pressed against yours, slow and deliberate, and you felt the familiar warmth pool low in your stomach. Logan wasn’t in a rush—he never was when he kissed you. He liked to take his time, to savor, to leave you breathless in a way that made your head spin long after he pulled away. His fingers curled under your chin, keeping you close, his thumb tracing a slow line along your jaw.

His tongue flicked over your bottom lip, a slow, deliberate swipe before he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His smirk was lazy, self-satisfied, and entirely too smug.

“Cherry,” he muttered, his voice low, rough.

“You’re obsessed,” you said, trying to sound unimpressed even as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt.

Logan huffed out a quiet laugh, his hands slipping lower, resting heavy on your hips. “Ain’t my fault you keep wearin’ it.” His thumbs brushed against your sides, slow, absent-minded. “Like you want me to notice.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “It’s just lip gloss, Logan.”

“Sure,” he drawled, clearly unconvinced. “Just lip gloss.” His grip on your hips tightened just a fraction. “You always wear this flavor, or is it just ‘round me?”

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but the way he was looking at you made your brain short-circuit. His expression wasn’t just teasing anymore—there was something deeper behind his eyes, something unreadable but intense. It sent a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in again, not quite kissing you, just letting his lips hover near yours, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath. “Go on,” he murmured, voice dropping even lower. “Tell me it ain’t for me.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering in your throat. You weren’t sure what was more frustrating—the way he always managed to fluster you so easily, or the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I—” You hesitated, and Logan caught it immediately. His smirk widened, and you wanted to wipe it off his face, but your brain was too fogged up with the scent of him, the way his hands were resting so firmly on your hips, like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon.

“Thought so,” he muttered, finally pressing his lips to yours again.

This kiss was slower, more deliberate, his mouth moving against yours like he had all the time in the world. His fingers curled slightly, gripping the fabric of your sweater as he pulled you in closer. You felt the scrape of his stubble against your skin, the way he tilted his head just right, deepening it just enough to make you forget that you were still standing in the middle of your classroom.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, gripping onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Logan, of course, looked perfectly fine, his smirk still in place, though his breathing was a little heavier than before.

“Now, what were you sayin’ about this bein’ ‘just lip gloss’?”

You groaned, shoving lightly at his chest. “Logan.”

He caught your wrist before you could push him away completely, pressing a quick kiss to the inside of it before finally letting you go. “Alright, alright,” he said, still grinning. “I’ll stop—” He paused, then added, “—for now.”

You exhaled sharply, stepping back to put some space between you. “You’re impossible.”

Logan just chuckled, watching you with that same damn amused expression, like he was enjoying every second of this. And the worst part? He absolutely was.

You turned away quickly, trying to regain your composure, but you could still feel the heat of his hands on your skin, the ghost of his lips on yours.

“You still good for dinner later?” he asked, casually like he hadn’t just spent the last five minutes making you forget how to think.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your glasses as you grabbed your notes. “Yeah,” you muttered. “I’ll be there.”

“Good.” His voice was warm, satisfied. “See you then, sweetheart.”

And with that, he strolled out of the room like nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, lips tingling, heart racing, and entirely too aware of the fact that you were already counting down the hours until you saw him again.

---

The mansion was abnormally quiet. Most of the students were out for the weekend—some of the older students were looking after the younger ones—and the team was out doing a simple recon mission.

“One and a half cups of flour,” you muttered, leveling off the measuring cup before dumping it into the mixing bowl. The kitchen was unusually quiet, save for the occasional hum of the fridge and the rhythmic clink of your spoon against the bowl as you stirred.

“You talk to yourself when you bake?” Logan’s voice came from the doorway, rough with amusement.

You glanced up, pushing your glasses higher up your nose. “It helps me focus,” you said, reaching for the sugar. “And keeps me from messing up the measurements.”

Logan stepped inside, hands tucked into his jeans as he leaned against the counter, watching you. “Didn’t think you ever messed up.”

You huffed a small laugh. “Everyone messes up.”

“Not you,” he said, smirking. “Not when it comes to stuff like this.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your neck as you added sugar to the bowl. “Flattery isn’t going to get you cookies any faster.”

Logan just grinned. “Worth a shot.”

He stayed where he was, not offering to help, not interfering, just watching. He always did this—hovering without making it obvious, keeping you in his line of sight like it was second nature. You’d gotten used to it over the past few months, the way he lingered when you were focused on something, content just being there.

His presence was steady, familiar, something you had unconsciously grown comfortable with.

You reached for the blueberries, tossing a handful into the batter before mixing again. “You’re staring.”

Logan shrugged, smirk never fading. “You’re nice to look at.”

Your grip tightened on the spoon. “Logan.”

“What?” He tilted his head, completely unbothered. “I’m just statin’ facts, sweetheart. ‘Specially when you’re wearin’ this.” Logan tugged on the open placket of his flannel, the fabric loose over your frame.

You huffed, turning back to the mixing bowl. “It was just sitting on the chair. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Logan’s fingers skimmed the hem, playing with the edge. “Didn’t say I minded.” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Just sayin’ it looks real good on you.”

Your hands faltered slightly as you stirred the batter, but you kept your focus on the task at hand. “You’re just trying to distract me so I mess up these cookies.”

“Me?” He smirked, shifting closer, one hip against the counter now. “I’d never do such a thing.”

You shot him a pointed look. “You do it all the time.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, reaching over to steal a blueberry from the container beside you. “Alright, maybe I do. But it ain’t my fault you’re easy to rile up.”

You swatted at his hand before he could grab another berry. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah?” He popped the blueberry into his mouth, chewing slowly. “And yet, here you are, wearin’ my shirt, makin’ me cookies.”

“I’m not making you cookies,” you said, stirring the batter. “These are the blueberries from Ororo’s garden. She wanted me to make cookies with them.”

Logan made a low sound in the back of his throat, arms still folded as he leaned against the counter. “That right?”

“Yeah.” You scooped another handful of blueberries into the bowl, mixing them in. “So, if you want cookies, you’ll have to take it up with her.”

He smirked. “Think she’d let me have one?”

“Maybe.” You flicked your gaze toward him, pretending to consider it. “If you ask nicely.”

Logan snorted, pushing off the counter to move closer. “You ever known me to ask nicely for anything?”

You gave him a look, reaching for the baking sheet. “Exactly.”

His smirk widened. “So that means I gotta find another way to get one.”

“You could just wait like everyone else,” you pointed out, dropping spoonfuls of batter onto the tray.

“Could.” Logan took another step forward, his fingers brushing against the hem of the flannel you were still wearing. “Or I could keep distractin’ you till you cave.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart picked up just from him being this close. “You’re not as persuasive as you think.”

He hummed, standing directly behind you now, his chest barely a breath away from your back. “That so?”

You swallowed, focusing intently on the cookies. “Yes.”

Logan leaned in just a little, his breath warm against your ear. “Don’t seem so sure, sweetheart.”

Your hands froze for half a second before you forced yourself to keep scooping batter. “I don’t give in that easily.”

“Mm.” His hands skimmed along the counter on either side of you, not touching, just there. “Good thing I like a challenge.”

You exhaled, willing yourself to focus. “The cookies go in the oven in five minutes. Think you can survive that long?”

Logan chuckled, low and deep. “Guess we’ll see.”

His hands finally lifted from the counter, and he stepped back, giving you space again—but not before trailing a slow fingertip down your arm on the way. It was barely anything, just a whisper of a touch, but it left a warm, lingering imprint on your skin.

You shook your head, ignoring the way your cheeks felt hot. “You’re the worst.”

He smirked. “You keep sayin’ that, and yet—” He tugged lightly on the sleeve of the flannel you were still wearing. “Still wearin’ my shirt. Still makin’ cookies.”

You sighed, finally turning to face him fully. “They’re Ororo’s cookies.”

Logan crossed his arms, amused. “Uh-huh.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. “You really think everything I do is for you, don’t you?”

He grinned. “No. But I like knowin’ when it is.”

You groaned, turning back to the tray before he could see how much that stupid smirk was affecting you. “You are impossible.”

Logan just chuckled, watching as you slid the tray into the oven. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, Logan, you can have a cookie when they’re done.’”

You shut the oven and sighed. “Fine. One.”

His smirk deepened. “Thought you didn’t give in that easily?”

You turned, poking a finger at his chest. “You’re pushing it.”

Logan caught your hand before you could pull it back, his fingers warm as they curled lightly around yours. He didn’t say anything at first, just held your hand, his thumb grazing over your knuckles in slow, easy circles.

Your breath caught, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The playful air between you had shifted, just slightly, into something quieter, something that made your heart beat a little harder.

“Y’know,” Logan murmured, his voice lower now, “I don’t just stick around for the cookies.”

You swallowed, your fingers twitching against his. “I know.”

Logan studied you for a long moment, then, with a small smirk, lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your knuckles. The warmth of it sent a shiver up your spine.

Your breath wavered, and Logan didn’t miss it. His smirk softened, his eyes flicking up to yours. “I’ll be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand once before letting go.

Your stomach flipped, but before you could even think of a response, he turned and strolled toward the door. “I’ll be back when the cookies are done.”

And then he was gone, leaving you standing there with your heart pounding and your hand still tingling from where his lips had been.

You took a slow, steadying breath, staring at the closed door for a long moment.

You were in trouble.

---

The night was like any other night. The TV was playing in the room, another old movie Logan had put on, while you read a book—1st to Die by James Patterson.

Your head was resting against his shoulder, while one of his hands absentmindedly stroked your thigh. His touch was steady, casual, like it had been for months now, but you could feel something else beneath it tonight. A quiet kind of intent.

Logan wasn’t subtle. Not really. He liked to pretend he was, but you had known him long enough to pick up on his patterns. The way his fingers traced absent shapes against your skin, his thumb brushing along the inside of your knee before trailing back down. Slow. Measured. Like he was waiting for you to notice.

You turned the page in your book, trying to ignore the way your heart had started to beat just a little faster.

“Y’like that one?” Logan’s voice was quiet, rough in the way it always was. His thumb dragged up again, stopping just beneath the hem of your shorts.

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s good.”

Logan hummed, shifting slightly so he could glance down at you. “Ain’t my usual, but I might give it a shot.”

Your lips twitched. “You barely read anything that isn’t a newspaper.”

Logan smirked. “Fair.” His fingers brushed higher this time, not quite pushing but not retreating either. “But if you like it, I figure it’s worth a look.”

You swallowed, trying to focus on the words in front of you, but they were blurring now, replaced by the warmth of his palm against your thigh, the way his hand lingered, waiting.

After a long moment, you set the book down on your lap and turned slightly, looking up at him. Logan watched you, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze.

His other hand lifted, fingers ghosting along your jaw before his thumb traced over your bottom lip, slow and deliberate.

Your breath caught. He didn’t move closer, didn’t push. He just waited.

It had always been this way with him. The teasing, the lingering touches, the quiet intensity that made your pulse stutter. He never rushed. He was never impatient with you.

But he wanted you to be the one to move first.

You hesitated only for a moment before tilting your chin up, closing the space between you.

The second your lips met his, Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening on your thigh. He kissed you slow at first, steady, like he had all the time in the world. But when he started to pull back, you chased him, your fingers curling into the front of his shirt to keep him close.

That was all it took.

Logan made a quiet sound in the back of his throat before he kissed you deeper, his hand sliding to the small of your back as he shifted, guiding you gently until you were beneath him, your back pressed against the mattress.

He hovered there for a moment, his weight braced on his forearms as he studied you, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“You sure?” Logan’s voice was quieter now, rougher.

You nodded, your fingers sliding up into his hair. “Yeah.”

Logan exhaled slowly, something easing in his expression before he dipped his head again, kissing you softer this time.

He grabbed your book and placed it on the bedside table without looking, without even breaking the kiss. His lips were slow, deliberate, savoring the way you yielded beneath him, the way your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

His hand slid lower, over the soft fabric of his flannel that still draped over your frame, fingertips tracing the hem where it met your thigh. He pulled back just enough to look at you, smirking at the dazed look in your eyes. “Y’know,” he murmured, his fingers slipping under the fabric, brushing against your bare skin, “I like seein’ you in my clothes.”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing. “You’ve mentioned that before.”

“Yeah?” Logan tilted his head, his smirk deepening as his fingers trailed higher. “Think I might’ve understated it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the effect was ruined when he leaned in again, his mouth brushing along your jaw, then lower, dragging slow kisses down the column of your throat. His hands moved with him, one slipping around to the small of your back, the other pushing the flannel further up your thighs.

Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging lightly. Logan hummed against your skin, then leaned back just enough to grab the collar of his tee, yanking it over his head in one smooth motion. The sight of him—bare-chested, golden skin catching the low light—made your breath hitch.

Logan chuckled, catching the way your gaze drifted over him. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

You huffed, feigning exasperation, but your fingers betrayed you as they splayed over his chest, tracing the hard planes of muscle. “You’re cocky.”

His smirk widened. “Damn right.” He ducked down again, capturing your lips in another slow kiss, his body settling closer against yours. The warmth of him seeped into your skin, his weight grounding you as his hands continued their exploration, one drifting beneath the fabric of your—his—flannel, the other cupping the back of your neck.

His lips left yours only to find the sensitive skin beneath your ear, teeth scraping lightly before he soothed it with his tongue. “M’gonna take my time with you,” he murmured, his voice rough, his fingers skimming beneath the hem of your sleep shorts. “Gotta get you ready for me.”

Your breath hitched at that, and despite the heat pooling in your stomach, you still managed to murmur, “so cocky.”

Logan let out a quiet chuckle, nipping at your jaw before pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That a complaint?”

You held his gaze for a long moment, then shook your head. “No.”

His smirk softened slightly, something warmer flickering in his eyes. He kissed you again, slower this time, more measured, before his hands resumed their path downward. The flannel slid off your shoulders, and Logan eased it down your arms, letting it pool around you before shifting his focus to your shorts.

His fingers traced the waistband, giving you the opportunity to stop him, to hesitate—but you didn’t. Instead, you lifted your hips just enough for him to slip them down, the fabric dragging along your legs before being tossed aside.

His hands traced back up, following the path they’d just taken, but this time there was nothing between you. His palms splayed over your thighs, fingers pressing in just enough to make you squirm before they trailed inward, brushing against the heat of you.

Logan exhaled sharply, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment before he kissed you again, deeper this time. One hand stayed anchored against your hip while the other moved between your thighs, fingers teasing, exploring, until they found the slick warmth waiting for him.

His lips curved against yours. “So fuckin’ soft,” he murmured, tracing slow circles that made you gasp, your fingers gripping his shoulders. “And already so wet for me.”

Your breath stuttered, nails digging into his skin as his fingers worked you open, slow and careful, coaxing soft sounds from your lips that only made his own breath turn heavier.

“You always this sweet for me, darlin’?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your cheek, your jaw, your throat. “Or is this just ‘cause you’ve been waitin’ on me?”

Logan’s fingers curled just right inside you, pressing against that spot that made your breath stutter, your thighs twitching where they pressed against his hips. His smirk was small but unmistakable, lips brushing against your cheek as his fingers worked you open, slow and deliberate.

“You’re real sensitive, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice rough with something darker, something restrained. His thumb dragged lazy circles over your clit, and you whimpered, your grip on his shoulders tightening. He chuckled, breath warm against your skin. “Damn shame I didn’t do this sooner.”

You couldn’t answer—not with the way he was touching you, not with the heat pooling in your stomach, threatening to snap. Your head tipped back against the pillows, glasses askew, lips parted around soft, breathy sounds that you couldn’t hold back. Logan didn’t stop them. If anything, he worked for them, coaxing every little gasp from your lips like he had all the time in the world.

“That’s it,” he muttered, pressing slow kisses down your jaw, along the line of your throat. His fingers pumped into you steadily, stretching, teasing, dragging that pleasure higher. “Y’been waitin’ on this, haven’t you?”

“Logan—”

His thumb pressed a little firmer against your clit, and your words broke into a moan, your back arching into him. Logan groaned, deep and low, his mouth finding the hollow of your throat as he kept his rhythm.

“Christ, you sound good,” he muttered. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

You could feel yourself getting close, the pleasure building, sharp and electric, curling tight in your stomach. Logan felt it too—the way your thighs trembled, the way your breath hitched between each desperate sound.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear, fingers relentless. “Let me feel it.”

And you did—your body tensed, your breath breaking into a soft, gasping cry as you came apart beneath him. Logan cursed softly, watching you unravel, his fingers slowing just enough to help you ride it out.

You were still trembling when he pulled his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips. He met your gaze as he licked them clean, eyes dark and heavy-lidded.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “You taste good.”

Your stomach flipped, heat rising to your cheeks, but Logan was already shifting, already pressing slow, deep kisses against your lips. He took his time, letting you catch your breath, hands steady as they stroked over your hips, your thighs, your waist.

“Still doin’ alright?” he murmured.

You nodded, breathless, fingers curling against his chest. “Yeah.”

Logan smirked, but there was something softer in it, something warmer. “Good.”

His hand skimmed down your side, slow and deliberate, rough fingertips brushing over the curve of your hip. He was watching you too closely, the way he always did when he wanted to be sure you were with him, when he needed to see it in your eyes.

You curled your fingers into his hair and pulled him back down to you, mouth meeting his in a kiss that was less careful this time. You weren’t thinking about shyness, about hesitation—just the heat of his skin, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, the way his hands knew exactly where to touch.

Logan groaned low against your lips, his body settling fully against yours now, bare skin to bare skin, except for the one piece of clothing left between you. His jeans were rough where they brushed against your thighs, the contrast making you shiver as his hands moved—one sliding beneath you to brace your back, the other gripping your hip, his fingers flexing like he was grounding himself in the feel of you.

He kissed you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, the taste of you, like he wasn’t sure if this was real or if you’d slip through his fingers again.

You felt it in the way he touched you, in the way he lingered, his lips dragging from your mouth down to your jaw, the column of your throat. His breath was hot against your skin, each exhale rougher than the last.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Logan murmured against your pulse, his voice low, rasping.

You swallowed hard, nodding before remembering he’d want more than that. “Yeah,” you breathed. “I’m with you.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. His fingers tightened against your hip like he was restraining himself, like he had to be careful, because this was you, and even though he’d wanted this for so fucking long, he wouldn’t rush it.

Wouldn’t rush you.

His nose brushed against your cheek as he exhaled, long and slow, before kissing you again—slower this time, deliberate.

His hands started moving again, dragging over the softness of your waist, down to your thighs, his touch firm but steady, mapping you out, savoring. When he reached the inside of your knee, he eased it up, guiding your leg around his waist. The shift pressed you flush against him, and Logan let out a sharp breath through his nose, his forehead resting against yours for a moment like he needed to gather himself.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice nearly a growl. His hands flexed against you, one sliding down to your ass, gripping, shifting you just enough that the hard press of him against your core made you whimper.

Logan groaned at the sound, his head dipping, lips grazing your collarbone. “You don’t even know what that does to me,” he murmured, his mouth trailing lower.

You bit your lip, your fingers twitching against his shoulders. “I might have an idea.”

That pulled a rough chuckle from him, but it faded when you moved—when you shifted against him, pressing just enough to draw a hiss from his lips.

His restraint was slipping.

He was already worked up, and you could feel it, the tension coiling in his muscles, the way his breathing had gone ragged. He’d been patient, slow, but the way he was gripping you now, the way his hands were starting to tremble against your skin—he was close to losing that patience.

And you wanted him to.

You reached between you, fingers brushing along his stomach, the waistband of his jeans. Logan’s breath hitched, his hips twitching forward before he caught himself, gripping your wrist before you could go further.

“Darlin’.” His voice was tight, strained. “You don’t gotta—”

“I know,” you murmured, looking up at him. Your free hand brushed against his jaw, grounding him. “I want to.”

Logan’s grip on your wrist loosened at that, his lips parting, something flickering behind his eyes that looked a hell of a lot like reverence.

Then he let go.

You made quick work of his belt, the button, the zipper—your hands were steady, but your heart was racing. Logan watched you, his breath shallow, his chest rising and falling in uneven bursts as you shoved the last barrier down over his hips.

His skin was hot against yours, his body solid, strong, and when he settled against you again, when there was nothing between you anymore, you let out a sharp, shaking breath at the feeling of him, the sheer heat and weight of him pressing against you.

Logan groaned, his forehead pressing against yours. “Christ.”

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, legs tightening around his waist. “Logan—”

“I got you,” he murmured. His voice was softer now, and the hand on your hip slid lower. You made a soft, pleading sound, shifting beneath him, your fingers flexing against his skin. Logan exhaled sharply, his hand leaving you to brace himself above you again. His eyes met yours. “You sure?”

You nodded, but Logan didn’t move. He needed to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice quiet but sure. “I’m sure.”

Something in his expression eased, and then—

He pushed in, slow, steady, careful.

Your breath caught. Logan groaned, low and rough, his head tipping forward, his body shuddering as he fought to keep himself controlled.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he muttered, his voice thick, strained. His hands flexed against you, his breath ragged against your skin as he pushed in deeper, filling you completely.

You gasped, gripping his arms, your body stretching to take him, adjusting around him. Logan cursed softly, his forehead pressing to your shoulder, his hands shaking against you.

“Tell me if—” His voice was almost wrecked. “If I need to slow down, I will.”

You shook your head, breathless. “You’re perfect.”

Logan let out a quiet, shuddering exhale. “Fuck.”

His hips pulled back, then pressed forward again, slow, measured. His restraint was there, barely, his muscles taut beneath your hands, his movements careful but not hesitant.

You moaned softly, your body arching into him, and Logan swore under his breath, his grip tightening on your hips.

“Goddamn,” he muttered. “You feel like you were made for me.”

You trembled beneath him, overwhelmed by the heat, the weight, the way he filled every part of you so completely. Logan was holding himself together by a thread, his hands flexing against your hips like he was steadying himself, grounding himself in the feel of you. His breath was heavy against your skin, rough and uneven, his forehead pressing against yours as he stilled inside you, letting you adjust.

“Jesus, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice wrecked. “You—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply through his nose. “Fuck.”

Your fingers curled against the broad planes of his back, nails digging into firm muscle as you took a shaky breath. He was big—not just in size, but in presence, in weight, in the sheer way he surrounded you, body and soul. You weren’t sure you’d ever felt this full before. It was almost too much. Almost.

But Logan wasn’t rushing.

He didn’t move, didn’t push. He just stayed there, his body taut with restraint, his jaw tight. His thumb traced absentminded circles on your hip, a small, grounding motion against the intensity of everything else.

“You okay?” His voice was rough, thick with the effort of holding himself back.

You swallowed, nodding, but when you saw the way he was watching you—his eyes dark, searching—you knew that wasn’t enough. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m okay.”

Logan’s throat bobbed as he exhaled slowly, like he needed to hear it, needed the confirmation.

Still, he didn’t move right away. He stayed just like that, warm and solid above you, one hand slipping up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

It was gentler than you’d expected. You weren’t sure why—you knew Logan was careful with you, always. He was rough around the edges, sure, but with you, he never let himself be careless. Even now, even with his body wound tight as a wire, he held himself back, waiting for you to let him know it was okay.

You exhaled softly, tilting your head just enough to brush your lips against his in a slow, lingering kiss. Logan groaned low in his throat, the hand on your hip tightening fractionally, but he didn’t deepen it—he let you set the pace.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth. “You can move.”

Logan’s whole body tensed at that, his breath hitching. “Fuck,” he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours again like he was collecting himself. Then, after a long moment—

He pulled back, just a little, before pushing forward again, slow and steady.

The stretch had you gasping, your fingers tightening against his shoulders. Logan gritted his teeth, cursing under his breath as he did it again, his pace careful, deliberate, as if savoring every inch of you.

“You’re so goddamn tight,” he muttered, voice rough as gravel. His lips brushed your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

Heat curled in your stomach at the way he said it—like he couldn’t believe this was real, like he couldn’t believe he had you beneath him, wrapped around him like this.

Your thighs squeezed around his waist instinctively, and Logan groaned, his hands gripping you tighter.

“Darlin’,” he rasped, his voice strained. “You keep doin’ that, I ain’t gonna last.”

You swallowed hard, your head tipping back against the pillow. “Sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Logan let out a rough chuckle, his lips brushing the side of your neck. “Ain’t complainin’.”

He thrust again, just a little harder this time, and you let out a soft, broken sound, your back arching. Logan groaned, his teeth scraping along your jaw before he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, drugging rhythm that matched the roll of his hips.

Your hands slid up his back, over the warm expanse of skin, tracing the dips and ridges of old scars. Logan shuddered beneath your touch, his muscles flexing under your fingers.

His mouth left yours only to drag lower, down the line of your throat, over the curve of your shoulder. “Goddamn,” he muttered against your skin, his voice thick with want. “I’ve wanted this—” He cut himself off with a groan, his fingers flexing against your waist. “You don’t even know how long.”

You whimpered softly, tightening your legs around him. “Then don’t hold back.”

Logan’s head snapped up at that, his breath catching. His eyes locked onto yours, something dark and wanting flashing behind them.

For a second, you thought he might tease you, draw it out longer—but something in your voice must have struck him, because Logan let out a rough breath and gave you exactly what you asked for.

He started moving in earnest now, his rhythm still measured but deeper, more insistent, dragging pleasure from you with every roll of his hips. Your breath hitched, your nails pressing into his shoulders as heat coiled in your stomach, sharp and electric.

You gasped as he thrust again, your body tightening around him. “Logan—”

He groaned at the way you said his name, his fingers digging into your hips. His pace faltered for a second, like he was struggling to keep himself controlled, like he was on the edge of losing himself completely.

And maybe you wanted him to.

Your hands slid up to cup his face, guiding him back down into another kiss, one that was messier now, more desperate. Logan growled against your lips, his movements turning just a little rougher, just a little faster, and you moaned into his mouth, your body arching up to meet him.

You could feel yourself getting close, the pleasure building, tightening, making your breath come faster. Logan felt it too—the way your body trembled, the way your breath caught.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice wrecked, his hips rolling into yours just right. “Let me feel you.”

The coil snapped.

You cried out, your body shuddering as you came around him, the pleasure cresting over you in sharp, dizzying waves. Logan cursed, his hands gripping you tight as he followed, his rhythm stuttering before he buried himself deep, groaning low against your throat as he let go.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing, the quiet hum of the TV still playing in the background. Logan stayed there, his forehead against yours, his hands still steady on your hips, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

Then, slowly, he shifted, pulling you into his chest as he rolled onto his side, keeping you close, keeping you warm. His breath was still heavy, but his hands were gentle as they traced over your back, his lips pressing softly against your temple.

“You alright?” he murmured, voice still rough around the edges.

You nodded against his chest, your fingers curling into his skin. “Yeah.”

Logan exhaled slowly, something easing in his expression. “You stayin’ here tonight?”

You huffed a quiet laugh, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I think that’s a given.”

Logan smirked against your hair. “Good.”

---

Bonus Scene

He couldn’t help himself—you looked cute today. To others, it was just a regular outfit, slacks and a sweater, but the difference was those damn heels.

Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching as you walked down the hall, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. The soft click of your heels against the floor was downright distracting, and the way they made you stand just a little taller—closer to him—wasn’t helping, either.

You adjusted your glasses, scanning over the notes in your hand as you made your way toward the classroom. Logan smirked to himself, shaking his head. Of course, you were completely oblivious.

He pushed off the wall and fell into step beside you. “Fancy shoes, sweetheart.”

You glanced up at him, brow furrowing slightly before realization dawned. “Oh. Yeah.” You adjusted your grip on the papers, glancing down at them. “I don’t wear them often, but I figured I should—”

“Keep ‘em.” Logan cut you off before you could finish whatever practical reason you were about to give.

You blinked up at him. “What?”

His smirk deepened, eyes dropping briefly to your heels before dragging back up. “I like ‘em.”

Your lips parted slightly, as if you wanted to say something, but instead, you quickly looked back at your papers, clearing your throat. “They’re just shoes, Logan.”

“Uh-huh.” Logan’s voice was amused, his smirk never fading.

He could see it—the way you fidgeted slightly, the way your grip tightened just a little on the papers. You were flustered, and it was adorable.

You reached your classroom, your free hand on the doorknob, but before you could step inside, Logan’s hand landed on your hip, pulling you back just enough that you felt the warmth of him behind you. He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“They make your legs look real nice, too,” he murmured.

You inhaled sharply, your back straightening. “Logan—”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You turned your head just slightly, your cheek barely grazing his. You opened your mouth to say something—probably a scolding, judging by the look in your eyes—but Logan just grinned, giving your hip a final squeeze before stepping back.

“See you later, darlin’.”

And with that, he walked off, leaving you standing there, flustered and gripping the doorknob like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

Yeah. He was definitely keeping those heels around.

---

You didn’t wear them again for a while—you usually would only consider wearing them on days when you didn’t have to be in the lab.

So, a few weeks later they were on again. The day went on normally, no interruptions from Logan, at least not any more than usual, and by the end of the workday you were glad to finally take them off.

You had already taken off your cardigan, leaving you in a simple t-shirt, and now you were unstrapping your heels.

The second heel slid off your foot with a relieved sigh. You flexed your toes against the carpet, rolling your ankles slightly. You hadn't even heard Logan come in—not until his voice rumbled from the doorway.

“Lemme help, sweetheart.”

Your head snapped up, caught halfway through massaging the arch of your foot. Logan was already moving toward you, dark eyes locked onto yours with that unreadable expression, something steady and sure. The kind that made your breath hitch.

“You don’t have to—”

He crouched down in front of you before you could finish, already reaching for your legs. Large hands wrapped around your calves, rough fingers kneading into muscle as he lifted one foot, pressing his thumb into the soft ache just beneath your toes.

A quiet breath left you, head tipping slightly back at the relief of it. He chuckled, low and knowing.

“Yeah, figured they’d be sore. Been watchin’ you walk around in ‘em all day.” His fingers trailed down, slow and deliberate, past your ankle and along your shin, stopping just above your knee. He looked up then, and something about the way he did it—half-lidded, knowing—made heat bloom low in your stomach.

His hands didn’t move away. Not when he squeezed gently, dragging his palms down the length of your legs again, not even when his fingers hooked into the waistband of your slacks.

Your breath caught. “Logan…”

He hummed, a wordless sound of acknowledgment, but he didn’t stop. He unbuttoned them slowly, eyes flicking up to yours. “Just helpin’ you get comfortable, darlin’.”

You should’ve expected it—Logan wasn’t the type to stop at just your shoes. But still, the sensation of your slacks being eased down, the brush of cool air against your thighs as he worked them off, sent a shiver up your spine.

And then, just as you were about to stand, assuming this was about changing into something else, Logan’s hands were on your hips, pushing you back down.

Your brows furrowed. “I thought—”

But Logan was already reaching for the heels again. He slid them back onto your feet, slow, deliberate. His fingers lingered as he adjusted the straps, the rough scrape of his calloused skin against your ankle making your pulse stutter.

Your lips parted, about to ask what he was doing—but before you could, he pressed a firm hand to your thigh, spreading you open just enough, and then he was moving lower, kneeling between your legs.

The realization hit all at once.

“Logan—”

His hands gripped your thighs, pulling you just that much closer to the edge of the bed. He exhaled sharply, and you could feel it—hot, teasing, right against the thin cotton of your underwear. His nose brushed against the fabric, and the sound that left him was almost a growl.

“Been thinkin’ about this all damn day,” he muttered. One of his hands slid up, fingers pressing into the meat of your hip, while the other smoothed down to hook around the back of your knee.

You swallowed hard, fingers curling into the sheets. “You—” Your voice hitched when his mouth brushed against you again, this time with intent. “You could’ve just said so.”

He chuckled against you, lips dragging over the fabric, teasing. “Nah,” he murmured. “Better like this.”

His tongue traced along the dampening fabric, slow and unhurried, dragging just enough to make you squirm. The first real sound of pleasure slipped from your lips before you could swallow it down. He made a noise of approval, pressing his mouth more firmly against you.

Your fingers twitched against the sheets, breath coming faster. “Logan…”

Logan’s breath was hot against you, teasing, his mouth hovering right where you needed him but refusing to give in just yet. His hands stayed firm on your thighs, thumbs pressing circles into your skin, like he had all the time in the world.

Your fingers curled tighter into the sheets, your breath coming in uneven, shallow little bursts. "Logan—"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" His voice was deep, roughened by amusement, like he already knew what you wanted but wanted to hear you say it anyway.

Your nails dug into the fabric beneath you, and Logan chuckled—low, pleased. He pressed a kiss over your underwear, slow and deliberate, letting his lips linger before dragging his tongue over the fabric. The heat of his mouth seared through, and your hips jerked involuntarily.

He groaned, hands flexing against your thighs. "Knew you'd be sensitive."

A flush burned hot up your neck, your head tipping back as his fingers traced slow, teasing lines up and down your legs, just enough pressure to keep you on edge but not enough to satisfy. He slid his hands up, past your knees, before hooking his arms beneath your thighs, pulling them up, over his shoulders.

Your breath caught as your calves rested against his broad back, the heels he had insisted you keep on grazing against his muscles. His grip tightened, locking you into place, and something about the sheer strength of him—the way he held you like this, open, vulnerable, completely at his mercy—made your stomach clench.

He pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your thigh, then another, working his way back toward the soaked fabric between your legs. His tongue flicked out again, just enough pressure to make you squirm, before he pulled back with a smirk.

"Logan," you breathed, frustration seeping into your tone.

His eyes flicked up, dark and hungry. "What, darlin'?"

"You—" Your fingers curled into the sheets again, your voice catching as he flattened his tongue against you, pressing hard enough that you felt every inch of him through the fabric. Your back arched instinctively, a soft, broken sound slipping from your lips.

That noise seemed to snap something in him.

Logan growled, deep and guttural, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear. In one slow, deliberate motion, he dragged them down, letting them catch around your knees before finally tugging them free. His hands didn’t waste any time, gripping the backs of your thighs again, pulling you even closer.

"That's better," he muttered, almost to himself.

And then his mouth was on you, hot and relentless.

A gasp tore from you, your thighs instinctively trying to clamp shut, but his grip held you open. His tongue worked slow at first, dragging long, torturous strokes through your folds, before circling right where you needed him most.

Your breath stuttered. "Oh—"

Logan groaned, the sound vibrating through you. "That’s it, sweetheart," he murmured against you. "Let me hear you."

You bit your lip, trying to keep some of the sounds at bay, but he didn’t like that. His hands squeezed your thighs in warning before his mouth sealed around your clit, sucking just enough to make your entire body jolt.

A cry ripped from your throat.

"Atta girl," he praised, the words sending a fresh wave of heat down your spine. His grip adjusted, hands sliding lower, past your hips, thumbs pressing into the crease where your thighs met your body. Holding you still. Keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

His tongue was merciless, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and firm, insistent pressure that had your thighs trembling against his shoulders. Every flick, every graze of his teeth, sent electricity sparking up your spine.

You didn’t even realize you were babbling his name until he groaned in response, pressing his mouth harder against you. The pressure built fast, white-hot and overwhelming, your whole body tightening as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap.

"Logan, I—" Your voice cracked, desperate, hands flying to grip his hair, tugging without thinking.

That was all it took.

Logan growled against you, and then his tongue was working you over with ruthless intent, flicking and sucking in a way that sent you crashing over the edge. Your body tensed, your back arching, his name spilling from your lips in broken, breathless gasps as pleasure wracked through you.

He didn’t stop.

Your thighs trembled against him, your whole body oversensitive, but Logan didn’t let up. His grip stayed firm, his tongue still dragging through your folds, teasing, relentless.

A whimper slipped from you, half-plea, half-helpless moan.

“Mmm, Logan?”

Your voice trembled—soft, breathless, still caught in the aftershocks of your first climax, and Logan felt it. The way your thighs quivered against his shoulders, your calves resting against his back, those damn heels grazing along the muscles of his spine. He exhaled sharply through his nose, lips still pressed to the slick heat between your legs.

“What, sweetheart?” His voice was low, rough, vibrating against you.

Your breath hitched. The heat of Logan’s mouth lingered against you, his tongue flicking one last, teasing time before he dragged his lips back up to press against the soft skin of your inner thigh. You twitched beneath him, a small tremor still rippling through your muscles, breath unsteady, fingers weakly curled into the sheets.

“I thought you were—”

Your voice caught as his teeth scraped lightly over your thigh, right where it was still damp from his mouth. He hummed, low and thoughtful, and didn’t move away. If anything, he settled in deeper, his broad hands tightening around your thighs, thumbs smoothing up toward the curve of your hips.

“Done?” His voice was all rough amusement, muffled against your skin.

A shaky exhale left you.

His lips curved. “Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss, slow and open-mouthed, right at the crease of your thigh. “You really think I’m done with you?”

Your breath stuttered. He hadn’t moved back—hadn’t given you any space to recover. He was still right there, his mouth still hovering over sensitive skin, his breath warm, teasing, pressing against you like a promise.

You swallowed, fingers flexing against the sheets. “I—”

He turned his head slightly, his nose brushing right where you were still slick, still sensitive. Your whole body jerked at the touch, an involuntary sound breaking in your throat.

Logan groaned. “That’s what I thought.”

And then his hands were on your hips again, sliding up your sides, holding you steady as he buried his mouth back between your thighs.

A gasp ripped from you, your body jolting at the sheer intensity of it. You’d barely come down from the first wave of pleasure, your skin still too sensitive, too raw—but Logan didn’t care. He was relentless, tongue pressing deep, slow, deliberate, dragging up before circling back around your clit.

You whimpered, your hands flying back to his hair, twisting in the thick strands.

He groaned again at the pull, the vibration of it sending another sharp, overwhelming pulse through you.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he muttered against you, voice thick, wrecked. “Could do this all night.”

Your legs trembled. You didn’t doubt him.

He worked you open with his tongue, slow and indulgent, taking his time, like he had nowhere else to be, no other priority but this—this, and the way you came apart in his hands. He pulled you closer, dragging your thighs up higher over his shoulders, making sure you couldn’t squirm away.

The position shifted something, the heels on your feet sliding slightly against his back, the small sharp drag of them making him grunt.

His tongue flicked over you again, lazy, slow, savoring. He had you completely at his mercy, held tight in his grip, and he knew it.

“Logan,” you gasped, voice breaking.

He smirked against you. “That’s it, darlin’.” His tongue circled once, twice, before he sealed his lips around you again, sucking just right.

The pleasure built fast, unbearable, twisting in your stomach like a live wire sparking beneath your skin. Your breath hitched, your thighs shaking against him, the grip you had in his hair tightening as you tried to ground yourself.

Logan groaned, deep and approving, and then he doubled down. His mouth was insatiable, his tongue working you open, pushing you right to the edge without hesitation.

You felt it hit—sharp and sudden, your whole body tensing as your second orgasm crashed through you.

A sob caught in your throat. Logan didn’t stop.

He rode you through it, drinking in every sound, every twitch of your hips, every broken whimper that left you as you shattered against his mouth. He held you steady, his tongue still teasing, slow, languid, like he was tasting you, savoring the way you trembled for him.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he moved up, dragging his lips along your stomach, pressing slow, hot kisses as he went.

“Think you can give me one more, sweetheart?” he murmured against your skin.

Your breath was still coming fast, your body still tingling with aftershocks. “I—”

"Yeah, darlin’," Logan rasped against your thigh, the vibration of his voice sending another tremor through your oversensitive body. He wasn’t asking—just waiting. Waiting for you to tell him no, to push at his shoulders, to make some attempt at stopping him.

You didn’t.

A deep, satisfied hum rumbled through his chest, his stubble dragging against the tender skin of your inner thigh as he pressed another open-mouthed kiss there. His hands stayed firm at your hips, thumbs smoothing slow, absent circles against your flushed skin.

"You got one more in you," he muttered. Not a question. A promise.

Your fingers curled weakly into the sheets, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. "Logan, I—I don’t think—"

"You can." His voice was thick, low, possessive. His hands flexed against you, grounding, holding you still like he could feel the way your legs wanted to clamp shut, your body already overwhelmed. "I got you."

And then his mouth was on you again.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat, your back arching as the wet heat of his tongue pressed against your still-sensitive clit. It was too much—the pleasure too sharp, too immediate, your nerves already frayed and exposed from the last two times.

Your hand flew to his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands, pulling without thinking. Logan groaned against you, the sound vibrating through every inch of your body, his grip tightening in response.

"Fuck," he breathed, pulling back just enough to murmur against your skin. "You’re still so fuckin’ sensitive, huh?" He didn’t wait for an answer. Just grinned against you before dragging his tongue through your folds again, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every reaction, every helpless little sound that slipped from your lips.

Your breath hitched, thighs trembling against his broad shoulders. "I—Logan, I don’t—"

"Shhh, sweetheart." His voice was rough, but his touch was steady, unwavering. His hands slid up your sides, fingers splaying over your ribs, grounding you. "Just let me take care of you."

Your stomach clenched, your body torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. You were too sensitive, too overwhelmed—but Logan wasn’t relenting. He was dragging you over the edge whether you were ready or not.

His tongue pressed deeper, slow and indulgent, before curling up just right, and your body jolted, a sharp cry breaking from your throat. Logan growled at the reaction, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he kept you pinned beneath him.

"You feel that?" he muttered against you, the heat of his breath making you shudder. "How fuckin’ good you taste?" His tongue flicked against you again, making your whole body jerk. "Bet you don’t even know what you do to me."

You moaned, the sound half-frustrated, half-helpless. Your thighs clenched around his head, but Logan only groaned, pressing himself deeper against you, like he wanted to drown in the feeling of you coming apart beneath him.

Your grip in his hair tightened, pulling hard enough to sting. "L-Logan—"

"That’s it," he growled. "Say my name, sweetheart."

You did. Over and over, broken and breathless, as his mouth worked you open, relentless and unforgiving. His tongue was precise, knowing, dragging slow and then fast, flicking before sucking, giving you just enough to send another sharp pulse of pleasure tearing through you.

The coil in your stomach wound tight—too tight, too fast.

You felt it coming, and so did he.

"Give it to me," Logan muttered against you, his voice almost desperate. "Come on, darlin’."

And then he sucked—hard.

White-hot pleasure ripped through you.

Your whole body tensed, your back arching, your breath catching in a sharp, broken cry. The orgasm slammed into you with dizzying force, a wave so intense it nearly knocked the air from your lungs. Your thighs clamped around his head, your fingers fisting in his hair, your entire body trembling against him.

Logan groaned, dragging his tongue through the mess he’d made, working you through every last tremor, every aftershock, until you were nothing but a shivering, spent mess beneath him.

Only then did he slow, his movements easing from hungry and desperate to slow and indulgent, like he was committing the taste of you to memory.

Your breath came in short, uneven gasps, your body completely limp against the mattress. Logan finally pulled back, pressing one last open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh before lifting his head.

His lips were slick, his pupils blown wide, his expression dark with satisfaction as he looked up at you.

"Told you," he murmured.

You could barely manage to lift your head, still dazed, your limbs uncooperative. "Told me what?" you managed, voice hoarse.

His smirk deepened, and he reached up, gripping your ankle. His thumb brushed over the strap of your heel, gaze flicking to where it still sat, perfectly in place on your foot.

"Told you I liked these."

Your cheeks burned, the heat rushing back to your face all at once.

Logan chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. He pushed himself up, his body unfolding as he moved over you, one arm bracing beside your head, his other hand gripping your hip. He was still fully dressed, still perfectly in control, while you lay there completely undone beneath him.

You swallowed hard, your pulse still racing. "You’re—"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Yeah?"

You huffed, turning your face away, but he caught your chin, gently tilting your gaze back to him.

"You okay?" His voice softened, rough edges smoothing just enough to make your heart squeeze.

You nodded, still catching your breath. Logan’s thumb traced along your jaw, his gaze lingering on your face for a long moment before he finally leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Good,” he murmured against your skin.

You felt the heat of his breath, the scrape of his stubble, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The weight of him was solid, grounding, his presence steady and familiar.

Finally, Logan exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly, his hands settling around your waist. He pressed another kiss to your shoulder, then muttered, “Should get you cleaned up, huh?”

You made a small noise in response, still too boneless to move.

Logan smirked. "Yeah, figured."

With an ease that shouldn’t have been possible, he lifted you up, settling you against his chest. His hands skimmed down your legs, his fingers lingering at the straps of your heels before slowly undoing them, slipping them off one at a time.

You let out a quiet sigh as the last one slid from your foot, the ache in your calves finally easing. Logan chuckled, pressing a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get too comfortable, sweetheart," he murmured. "Ain't done takin' care of you yet."

And with that, he stood, carrying you effortlessly toward the bathroom.

yeah... i might've gotten a bit carried away

[norrisainz33]

Cover girl || LS2

☆ summary: logan’s dating a rather famous singer who isn’t your typical wag

☆ pairing: logan sargeant x reader

☆ fc & warnings: billie eilish and suggestive with mild haters. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! i’m sorry this has taken so long. thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

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ynuser: life’s been real good recently

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user1: LOGAN SPOTTED

user2: mother is mothering so hard

user3: still gutted that she’s dating that man

user4: and i’m gutted he’s dating her 🤢

user3: nah i know you didn’t disrespect her like that

yourbff: give me my hat back!!!!

ynuser: no :) it’s mine now! hope this helps

ynupdates: new music when?!

logansargeant: my baby girl 🤤

ynuser: my baby boy

user4: logan blink twice if you need help

user3: YOU need help user4

user5: i was at that show!! you slayed so hard, i sobbed my eyes out

user6: no it was literally everything i love her. did you see someone who looked like logan dancing around in the vip section or was it just me

user5: NO I SAW HIM TOO BUT I WASNT SURE

user6: ugh i love them

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ynuser: omg what a great story logan!

logansargeant: yea i wonder who posted it 🙄

ynuser: wrong answer

logansargeant: best content i’ve ever posted 😍😍😍 prettiest girl in the whole wide world 🤤🤤🤤🤤

ynuser: better 😘

user99: y/n/n not dressing like a teenage boy challenge failed

lilymhe: y/n!!!!!!!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

logansargeant: lilllyyyyyyy!!!!! - y/n/n

ynupdates: our girl 🫶🏻

alex_albon: when u coming to a race fr

logansargeant: the second im allowed to physically fight will**ms - y/n/n

alex_albon: whelp fair enough… guess i’m not seein ya

logansargeant: are you guys not coming to my show in milan anymore?! -y/n

alex_albon: we are im just being dramatic

user20: how logan bagged this baddie…. i will never know

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logansargeant: another race weekend in the books! p.s swipe for a surprise

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user22: solid race weekend logie bear

user2: sargenation loves you so very much logan, i hope you know that

ynuser: he does bb 🫶🏻

user2: ogmgogmogkgogmgbakfg YAY

ynuser: vroom vroom 🤤

logansargeant: let’s ride 😏

user20: charli mentioned 🫨

user43: y/n i’m begging you to make an appearance in the paddock

user34: the paddock could never handle the brilliance of y/n plus i think she’d have words with j****

user43: and i’m absolutely begging her to tell the lot of them off 😭😫

oscarpiastri: solid surprise! thanks for sharing!

logansargeant: 🤔

ynuser: osc are you still mad at me for taking your girl out on a date?

oscarpiastri: 🙄 no

user18: 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅

user52: so close to loints! we are proud of you logan

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ynuser: surprise! i’m on the cover of vogue and my new album comes out in exactly 1 month from today 🤍

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user22: i am looking 🫣 respectfully

user54: holy moly i knew she was a baddy but WOW

lilyzneimer: hottest vogue cover i’ve ever seen

ynuser: it’d be hotter if you were on it

user33: i am better than no man

user55: logan sergeant you lucky lucky lucky man

sabrinacarpenter: i think im in love with you

ynuser: 🤭 don’t make me blush

logansargeant: my girl is gorgeous god damn

ynuser: your girl 🤍

logansargeant: i cant wait for everyone to hear your new music baby

ynupdates: this is not a drill !!! i repeat this is not a drill!!! we are getting new music!

user54: and you been hidin allat????

erling.haaland: 😍

user66: now what in the world are you doing here erling

user55: the duality of this woman is insane

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lilymhe: yes

lilyzneimer: yes

yourbff: yes

iamrebeccad: yes

user23: my god yes wtf

user85: yea 😔

alex_albon: MY EYES 😭

logansargeant: stop looking at my girlfriend!!!

alex_albon: mate you were the one who posted it

logansargeant: blah blah blah

user38: damn she is eating this up

ynupdates: i’m not sure if i want to be her or you more but yes i am jealous

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ynuser: award szn with my best friend 🤍

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user77: i feel like im interrupting something with that second pic

user66: that dress is absolutely gorgeous

lilymhe: very demure, very cutesy, very mindful

ynuser: you get me

logansargeant: black looks good on you but i look better 😏

ynuser: you know it 😍

alex_albon: get a room 😭

ynupdates: mother you amaze me. the body is tea

troyesivan: you are my idol

ynuser: stop it bb you’re mine

user55: serving BODY

julianalvarez: hermosa

user88: ok ms girl is in her serving body era i see

user99: i love you both so dearly

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logansargeant: summer break vibes

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user87: mr americana

user66: forever jealous about how logan gets to see a different side of y/n than all of us

kyle_kirkwood: hot boy summer

logansargeant: you know it

alex_albon: why aren’t you texting me back

logansargeant: man i texted you back a couple days ago

user43: logan sargeant the man that you are

user68: loints incoming , mans is well rested and happy

ynuser: my favorite frat boy

logansargeant: 😉

user98: logan being happy is all that i ever wanted

ynupdates: thanks for the y/n content logan!! you will forever be my favorite vroom vroom guy

user46: RAHHHHHH. so excited for you to race again after summer break!!

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user2: thank you for the sign of life y/n

user87: we miss him so much already

user27: where he goes we go

kyle_kirkwood: i hope you both join us in milwaukee this weekend 🫶🏻

alex_albon: i love you both no matter what

user37: i’m glad he’s got you

lilyzneimer: sending lots of love my dear

ynupdates: we love you logan. y/nnation is behind you every step of the way and is riding at dawn to take down will**ms

oscarpiastri: take care of him

user65: sargenation stands by logan no matter what

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! i’ve been struggling with writers block and have lost steam but will do my best to keep getting through the requests!! also i am gutted for logan , i miss him already

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X READER

✩°｡𓏲🧺𖦹 ₊˚ HURT TO SMILE : 757 WRDS

Prompt by @cosmophoriia !

Logan grunted softly as he sat down in one of the chairs in the common room. He was still sore from a fight he had the previous day. Even if his body could regenerate, it didn't heal his aching muscles. He grabbed the remote and began flicking through the channels. "Nope. No. Nah," Logan muttered under his breath as he mindlessly continued. He set his elbow against the arm rest of the chair, putting his chin in his palm. He exhaled deeply and kept browsing in hopes something interesting would come up.

Some faint footsteps came from the corridor that went from the dining hall to the common room. "Logan! Marie told me you're finally back," a voice called from around the corner. The mutant sighed, his hand moving from under his chin to his temples. "Yea, kid. I'm back. What about it," he asked with a slightly irritated tone. They winced a bit at the way he spoke, but they knew that's how he always was when they came around. They ran over to Logan, sat on the floor right next to him, and tossed their head back to smile up at him. "What do you mean 'what about it'? I missed you! I miss you more than you could imagine. It feels like you've been gone for, like, a million years," they whined to him. They turned around so they were facing him. "Please don't leave for that long ever again," they begged with a pouty lip. Logan groaned softly. "I was only gone for two days. You're living. You're breathing. You're fine," he reassured him as he ran his hand back along their head.

They let out a soft huff of air before standing up. "You're such a sour puss," they teased. "Look. Watch. I'm gonna pretend to be you," they giggled. Logan rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what was coming. They immediately put on the most dramatic, grumpy expression they could and made their voice sound as gruff as possible. "I'm Logan and I'm the most grumpy, mean, aggressive person ever! I'm such a lone wolf! I don't need anyone," they mocked while trying their hardest to repress their smile. "Stop that," he growled. Their eyes widened a bit at his tone, feeling slightly intimidated. "You must be fun at parties," the muttered. "What'd you say," Logan asked with a raised eyebrow. "Nothing." They kept a soft smile on their face as they moved to the couch that was next to the chair he was in.

They decided to mess with him a bit more, so they sat there staring at him. It took Logan a few minutes to realize what they were doing. Once he did, he looked at them with a sharp gaze. "What? Is there something on my face," he asked, trying to play along. They paused for a second to think of a response. "Yeah. There actually is. You know what it is? A big, fat, sour frown," they said. "It would be better if you smiled like this," they beamed as they gave him their biggest, happiest grin. "See! Like that! Now you try," they offered. Logan shook his head. "No. I'm not gonna smile, kid. Stop that," he insisted, trying to shoo them off with his hand. He had no idea he just started a back and forth.

"But I love your smile!" "You love everything about me." "Yeah, but your smileeeee!" "No." "Yes." "Nope." "Please?" "No." "Pretty please? With a cherry on top? And some Dr.P too?" "Not happening," he said.

They got up from the couch, stood in front of him, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him. "Logan! It wouldn't hurt to smile! It really wouldn't," they said to him in a sing-somg voice. "It really would," he replied. "No it wouldn't. You just don't wanna try," they told him, being completely right. "Okay? I'm not gonna do something I don't want to. Now move so I can find something to watch," he grunted. They smiled hard once they realized just what they could say to get him to smile. "I love you, Logan," they hummed, sitting down on the couch and awaiting his reaction. As they guessed, he smiled softly. "I love you too, kid," he sighed, chuckling quietly.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Could you do a request with 15 and 16

With Logan where the reader dresses as him for Halloween

Costume Confusion

The Xavier mansion was decked out for Halloween, glowing with a hauntingly warm ambiance as orange lights flickered, fake spider webs clung to corners, and the unmistakable scent of pumpkin and cinnamon wafted through the air. The annual Halloween party was in full swing, with mutants of all ages wearing creative and occasionally ridiculous costumes. You, however, had been feeling a little uninspired this year.

As you scanned the room filled with witches, superheroes, and a very awkward-looking Cyclops in a vampire cape, you finally saw Logan — dressed as… Logan. Of course. His costume was simple: his usual flannel shirt, jeans, and that familiar leather jacket. No costume needed for someone who already embodied a legend.

But tonight, you had something special planned for him. Smiling to yourself, you snuck out of the crowd and headed to the room where you had stashed your last-minute costume. Logan didn’t know about it yet, but you were sure his reaction would be priceless.

When you emerged, your transformation was complete: flannel shirt half-open over a white tank top, jeans, and boots — the closest match you could find to Logan’s signature look. You’d even managed to get your hands on some claw-like props. You knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was the thought (and the teasing) that counted.

With your heart racing just a bit, you made your way back into the party, spotting Logan leaning against the wall, drink in hand, surveying the scene with his usual gruff demeanor. His eyes were scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

For a split second, his brows furrowed, like he was trying to process what he was seeing. Then, as you approached with a swagger mimicking his, his lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Logan’s voice was low, the familiar growl softened by a trace of amusement.

You grinned, giving a mock snarl as you raised your clawed hands. “I’m the best there is at what I do,” you said in your best (but terrible) Logan impression, drawing out the claws with a dramatic flair.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re tryin’ to be scary, darlin’, but you’re just way too cute.”

Your grin widened as you took a step closer, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as my partner,” you said with a playful shrug. “Figured it’d be easy. All I needed was some flannel, jeans, and an unshakable sense of grumpiness.”

He snorted, his smirk growing as he looked you up and down, clearly fighting to keep his amusement under control. “Well, you nailed the flannel and jeans. But the grumpiness? Nah. You’re too damn cheerful for that.”

“Maybe I’ll work on my brooding for next year.” You leaned in a bit, still grinning. “What do you think? Do I pass as a mini-Wolverine?”

Logan’s eyes softened for a moment as he reached out, gently tugging at the sleeve of your flannel shirt. “You look better in this than I ever could,” he muttered, and you could see the faintest hint of affection in his rough features.

You chuckled, slipping your hand into his, feeling the calluses of his rough palm against yours. “Thanks, old man.”

“Old man, huh?” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t let go of your hand, giving it a squeeze instead. “Careful who you’re callin’ old when you’re dressed like me. People might get confused.”

You laughed, the sound mixing with the festive atmosphere around you. The two of you stood there for a moment, comfortable in each other's presence as the party buzzed around you. It was a contrast to the wild costumes and energy of the night, but that was part of what made it special. With Logan, you didn’t need over-the-top antics—just being by his side was enough.

After a beat, Logan glanced down at your makeshift claws. “Where’d you get those?”

“Made ’em myself,” you replied, lifting your hand to wiggle the faux claws. “Not as sharp as the real deal, but they’ll do.”

Logan grinned, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. “Good thing. Don’t need you shreddin’ up the mansion tryin’ to be me.”

“Well, maybe if you’d let me use the real ones, we wouldn’t have that problem,” you teased, knowing full well how he’d react.

Logan shook his head, his chuckle deep and warm. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

As the party carried on, you both lingered near the edge of the room, watching the chaos unfold—kids running around in costume, the X-Men mingling and enjoying a rare night of peace. It was fun to be part of it all, but with Logan beside you, it felt like your own little moment, a quiet pause in the middle of the festive storm.

Leaning against him, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer. He might not have been the type to dress up for Halloween or join in on the party games, but Logan was there with you, and that’s all that mattered.

You tilted your head to look up at him, catching his eye as he glanced down at you. “So, do I win for best costume or what?”

Logan gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You win, sweetheart. Hands down.”

“Thought so,” you muttered, grinning as you leaned into his warmth, the sounds of Halloween fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the night in your own way.

[wadewnstonwilson]

not helpin' your case.

summary: wade refuses to let logan sink into despair, constantly teasing him to lighten the mood. logan pretends to be annoyed, he secretly appreciates wade's presence, which keeps him grounded.

warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), none just fluffy goodness

word count: 1.4k

a/n: okay so i absolutely adore writing for wade because my adhd gets to go off the rails. tons of fluff, tons of dumb idiots being dumb idiots. i'll probably keep my poolverine fics to one shots because i just like little things of them here and there but enjoy!

Logan’s healing factor made him damn near indestructible. No matter how many bullets tore through him, how deep claws or blades sank into his flesh, his body always knitted itself back together as if nothing had happened. But the pain? He felt every second of it. The tearing, the ripping, the burning. The scars may not last long, but the memory of the agony lingered.

The physical pain, though, was the easy part. Logan could take a punch, a bullet, or an explosion and keep going. What he couldn't shake were the emotional scars. Decades—no, centuries—of loss, betrayal, and endless fighting. It was a constant burden, a weight that settled deep in his bones, refusing to let go. The faces of the people he'd lost, the betrayals he'd suffered—they all haunted him in the quiet moments, in the dark of night when the world stopped and there was nothing left but his thoughts.

And then, there was Wade.

The walking contradiction, the human cartoon, the man who turned every nightmare into a punchline. Wade had his own trauma—probably more than Logan, though it was hard to tell with him—but Wade’s way of dealing with it? He laughed. He made jokes, crude, sharp, and relentless. Where Logan brooded, Wade cracked jokes. Where Logan tried to bottle it all up, Wade exploded with it in a constant barrage of sarcasm and humor.

And while it drove Logan insane, it also saved him. Wade didn’t let him sink into the darkness. Wade wouldn’t let him dwell on the pain for too long. No, Wade kept him tethered to reality, whether Logan liked it or not.

“Yo, Claws!” Wade’s voice cut through Logan’s thoughts like a knife. “What’s with that resting murder face? You’ve been staring out that window for, like, an hour. What, are you brooding about your tragic past again? Or are you just trying to figure out where your hairline went wrong?”

Logan, arms crossed, leaning against the window frame, didn’t even flinch. He’d gotten used to Wade’s voice crashing into his internal monologues like a freight train. He grunted in response, refusing to turn around.

Wade was sprawled out on the couch, his legs kicked up on the armrest, a katana in his hands that he was polishing far too enthusiastically. “Come on, man, you can’t be doing the brooding thing again. You’ve got more angst than a whole squad of moody teenagers at a My Chemical Romance concert. What’s going on in that big, furry head of yours? Still thinking about your tragic backstory? We get it—everyone you’ve ever loved has died, you’ve got an animal inside you, blah blah blah. Yawn.”

Logan’s lips twitched, though he didn’t give Wade the satisfaction of turning around. “I’m not brooding,” he muttered, voice low and gruff.

Wade sat up dramatically, hand on his chest like Logan had just insulted his honor. “Oh, really? And I’m not wearing pants!” He stood up, glancing down at his fully clothed legs with an exaggerated gasp. “Oh fuck, wait, I am wearing pants! Looks like we’re both liars, Lo.”

Logan finally turned, slowly, his arms still crossed over his chest. “You ever stop talking?”

Wade grinned, sauntering over with the swagger of a man who absolutely loved hearing himself speak. He tilted his head at Logan, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nah. Someone’s gotta keep you from turning into a walking tragedy, and I guess that’s my job now. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Logan let out a long, slow sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t brood.”

Wade poked him in the chest, right between his crossed arms. “Sure you don’t, Moody McStabberson. You just stand by windows staring off into the distance, thinking about all the people who betrayed you, probably playing sad music in your head. Real original, man. What’s next? You gonna write some dark poetry and start a Tumblr?”

Logan couldn’t help it this time. His lips quirked, just a bit. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Wade threw himself back onto the couch, dramatically flinging his legs back up as if the weight of the world was too much for him. “Ridiculously awesome, you mean,” he shot back, grabbing the TV remote and flipping through channels. “So what’s it gonna be tonight, claws? You wanna watch some depressing documentary about the fall of the Roman Empire or maybe something more your speed, like... I don’t know... a show about emotionally constipated loners who don’t know how to ask for help?”

Logan moved from the window, finally sitting down beside Wade, though he didn’t say a word. Wade’s constant barrage of sarcasm and jokes was like background noise now, a familiar hum that kept him grounded, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Wade’s face lit up as he found some late-night talk show with overly enthusiastic hosts and an absurd number of bright lights. “Oh, shit, this looks good,” he said, grinning. “Nothing like watching rich assholes pretend to care about regular people. Warms my heart.”

Logan leaned back, rubbing his temples as the bright lights of the show flashed across the room. “You’re gonna give me a headache.”

Wade shot him a grin, clearly delighted. “Aw, come on, Logie Bear. I know you’re having fun. You can’t lie to me. I’ve seen that twitch of a smile, you can’t hide it. Admit it, I make your life better.”

Logan let out a soft, begrudging chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a pain in my ass, Wade.”

“Hey, I’m not the one who took a bullet to the ass last week and then said it was ‘just a scratch’,” Wade said, flipping the channel again. “Seriously, I had to fucking dig a bullet out of your hairy Canadian ass, but sure, just a scratch. How’s the ass feeling now, by the way?”

Logan snorted—a rare sound from him—and Wade’s grin widened like he’d just won the lottery. He leaned over, jabbing Logan in the side with his elbow. “Admit it, you love when I get all Florence Nightingale on you. It’s like a sexy version of a nurse, except with more swearing, fewer clothes, and zero actual medical knowledge.”

Logan rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re not helping your case.”

Wade nudged him again, his voice full of teasing. “Oh, come on. You know I’m the only person who can make you crack that grumpy exterior. It’s like my superpower—breaking through the Wolverine angst. And trust me, pumpkin, I love using it.”

Logan finally gave in, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Yeah, you’re real special, Wade.”

“You bet your sweet ass I am,” Wade said, stretching out on the couch, draping his legs across Logan’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. He flipped through the channels with his usual reckless abandon, not really looking for anything specific—just something to keep the noise going.

For a moment, the two of them sat there in companionable silence, the TV flickering in the background. Wade’s energy, usually a hurricane, seemed to settle, just for a moment. His legs were still draped lazily over Logan’s lap, his head resting back against the couch cushion, and Logan found himself relaxing, the tension in his shoulders finally easing.

“You ever stop to think,” Logan began, his voice low and thoughtful, “that maybe you’re the reason I’m not as messed up as I could be?”

Wade paused, remote still in his hand, his gaze flicking up to meet Logan’s. For a second, the sarcasm faded, the usual wall of jokes and bravado dropping. Wade tilted his head, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I kinda figured that was the deal.” He winked, the sass returning full force. “But don’t go getting all mushy on me, alright? I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I mean, I’m an asshole, not a Hallmark card.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, wouldn’t want that."

Wade leaned back, kicking his legs up higher as he flipped to another channel. “You need me, Peanut. Admit it.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but as he glanced over at Wade—at the way his presence filled the room with life, with noise, with something that kept Logan’s mind from spiraling into the dark places it so often wandered—he knew Wade was right. The man was a walking disaster, but he was Logan’s disaster.

“I guess I do,” Logan said softly, and for once, Wade didn’t make a joke.

Instead, he smiled, turning his attention back to the TV, his legs still draped lazily across Logan’s lap.

And for a little while, everything felt just a little bit easier.

[shybluebirdninja]

Claw Machine Master

Summary: Logan becomes obsessed with winning you a prize at the claw machine, but after burning through a hundred bucks and failing miserably, he uses his actual claws to grab the toy, setting off alarms. “Babe, I won, now run!”

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Gf!Human-reader Genre              : Fluff

You and Logan stroll through the arcade, the air buzzing with the sounds of laughter, beeping machines, and the smell of buttery popcorn. It’s one of those rare days where he’s not off saving the world or being a total grump. Instead, he’s decided to channel his inner child, and honestly, it’s hilarious watching this grizzly mutant navigate through a world of flashing lights and pastel-colored prizes.

“Hey, babe, check it out!” he shouts, pointing dramatically at a claw machine that’s blaring “Pick Me! Pick Me!” like a desperate kid at a birthday party. Inside, you see a plush unicorn, all sparkly and cute. It’s practically begging to be won.

“Logan, don’t,” you warn, laughing. “Remember the last time you tried to win me something? You ended up breaking the machine.”

“Yeah, but that was a fluke! This time will be different,” he insists, all pumped up and ready to go. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you know that if he goes in, he’s gonna give it everything he’s got.

“Alright, but I’m standing back. I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime,” you tease.

He throws you a playful glare. “Pfft. How hard can it be? It’s just a claw.”

He approaches the machine like it’s a life-or-death situation. The little screen flashes “Insert Coins,” and Logan pops in a couple of bucks like he’s preparing for war. He adjusts his stance, rolling his shoulders back as if he’s about to take on a Sentinal. You stifle a laugh, taking a step back to observe.

“Alright, watch and learn, honey,” he says, smirking at you. “Claw Machine Master at work.”

The first attempt? A total flop. The claw barely grazes the unicorn before plummeting back down like a rock. Logan’s jaw tightens, his competitive side kicking in. “Okay, that was a warm-up. Just getting the feel for it.”

“Sure, let’s call it that,” you giggle, arms crossed, enjoying the show.

After another few rounds—and about fifty bucks later—he’s starting to get frustrated. “This damn thing is rigged! I swear it’s cheating!” he growls, glaring at the machine as if it just insulted him.

“Or maybe you just suck at claw machines,” you quip. “You’re a master at literally everything else, Logan, but this? Not so much.”

He throws you a playful glare. “Alright, smartass, you think you can do better? Get in there and try!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ll let you have this one. It’s more fun watching you lose your mind over a stuffed toy.”

With a snort, he rolls his eyes and goes back for another attempt. After burning through more cash, it’s clear that this unicorn is tougher than any enemy he’s faced. “Babe, I’m gonna win you this prize if it kills me,” he mutters under his breath.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t! I don’t want you to end up in the emergency room because of a stuffed animal!”

Finally, he steps back, looking completely defeated. You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “This isn’t over!” he declares, his voice rising like a battle cry. “I’ll get that unicorn if it’s the last thing I do.”

Suddenly, you see that wicked spark in his eye, the one that usually means he’s concocting something insane. “What are you thinking?” you ask, half-excited and half-terrified.

“Watch this,” he smirks, and before you can even process what’s happening, he unsheathes his claws, slicing through the air with a snikt that makes everyone turn to stare.

“Logan, no! Don’t you dare!” you shout, but it’s too late. He lunges at the claw machine and, with surgical precision, he reaches into the glass case.

“Babe, I won! Now run!” he yells, grabbing the unicorn as the machine starts blaring alarms like it’s the end of the world.

You grab his arm, yanking him away from the scene of chaos. “You crazy son of a—let’s get out of here!”

Logan, still holding the plush toy like a trophy, bursts out laughing, running like a madman with you right beside him. “I can’t believe I just did that! I’m like the Robin Hood of claw machines!”

“More like the criminal of claw machines!” you shout, laughing uncontrollably as you dart through the arcade, dodging other players and workers who are now chasing after you both.

As you reach the exit, Logan pulls you into a side alley, still holding the unicorn like a proud parent. “That was wild! Did you see their faces?”

You’re breathless, still giggling as you lean against the wall. “You just committed arcade robbery! And for a stuffed toy!”

He shrugs, grinning widely. “It’s worth it for you, babe. Plus, look at this thing! It’s adorable!”

“Logan, I love it, but next time, maybe let’s just buy a keychain?” you suggest, still trying to catch your breath.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughs, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. “Next adventure, babe. We’ll get matching unicorns or something.”

[mamaestapa]

I Think Somebody Has A Crush

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/N Y/L/N moved to Cincinnati, Ohio for a new start. Move in day arrives and she discovers something terrible...the apartment complex gave her the wrong lease. Instead of living with who she originally was supposed to, she's now living with the hottest quarterback in the NFL, Joe Burrow. Y/N is stuck living in the same apartment with him for a year...which the two are not thrilled about. However, as time goes on, they realize that maybe this wasn't the worst thing that could happen to them. Will Y/N and Joe stay enemies, or will they find themselves falling in love?

•chapter summary: Groupchat with Joe and the guys

•word count: 1.5k

•warnings: Language, jealous Joe, mentions of sex, it’s kind of cringe lol

Series Masterlist

———————————————————

October 26, 2022

chat with: joe😎, ja'marr🔥, logan🏈, sam💪🏻, evan🤩

joe😎- Guys...Im going to go crazy.

logan🏈- Come on Joey B, don't be so dramatic

sam💪🏻- What could possibly make you go crazy?

ja'marr🔥- Burrow don't listen to them, you're already crazy

joe😎- Thanks Ja'Marr, 'preciate it.

ja'marr🔥- You're welcome😍

sam💪🏻- Haha. you guys are hilarious. I cant stop laughing.

sam💪🏻- But seriously Joe, what makes you think you're going to go crazy?

joe😎- Y/n! Y/n is going to make me crazy

logan🏈- Mhm...crazy in love😏

Joe😎- Absolutely not

Logan🏈- Come on now, don't lie

Ja'Marr🔥- Y/n would make me crazy in love, that girl is sexy as hell

Evan🤩- I agree😍

Joe😎- Seriously? Come on guys.

Sam💪🏻- Hey Evan, speaking of Y/n, I saw she posted you on her story a couple weeks back. Care to explain?👀

Evan🤩- Y/n and I have been talking a bit. We've gone to the gym together a few times, worked out.

Ja'Marr🔥- "Worked out" yeah that's code for 

doin' it, E😏

Logan 🏈-lmao

Evan🤩-  Shut up, Ja'Marr. We haven't done anything...yet

Sam💪🏻- Ohhh, so you plan on doing it with her at some point?

Evan🤩- I cannot confirm nor deny that statement. If it happens, it happens. I'm just happy talking to her for now

Logan🏈- Atta boy, McPherson!😉

Ja'Marr🔥- Money Mac with the rizz😩

Sam💪🏻- Oh

Logan🏈- Yikes

Ja'Marr🔥- ?

Evan🤩- Please never say that again.

Ja'Marr🔥- What?

Sam💪🏻- Rizz. It makes you sound like a pre-pubescent middle schooler

Evan🤩-😂😂

Logan🏈- It really does😂

Ja'Marr🔥-Whatever. Y'all are just mad that you don't have any

Ja'Marr🔥 changed Evan🤩 to The Rizzler🥶

Sam💪🏻- Oh jesus christ🤦‍♂️

Logan🏈-😂😂😂

The Rizzler🥶- Ja'Marr, come on man change it back!

Ja'Marr🔥- Nah, this shit funny af💀

The Rizzler🥶-If you don't change it back, I'll tell Y/n about that dream you had.

Logan🏈- Do tell

Ja'Marr🔥- You swore you wouldn't tell a soul

The Rizzler🥶- Change my name back and I'll keep that promise, don't change it and I'll tell this whole group chat that you had a boner the size of-

Ja'Marr🔥- OKAY OKAY

Ja'Marr changed The Rizzler🥶 to Evan🤩

Evan🤩- Thank you.

Sam💪🏻-Part of me wants to hear the dream, but part of me doesn't😂

Logan🏈- You and me both😂 Hey Joe, I know you're reading these texts man, why've you been so silent?

Joe😎- Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because I don't want to hear about my teammates getting boners over my roommate

Sam💪🏻- Joe...

Joe😎- What? I just don't want to hear about Evan and Y/n fucking or about Ja'Marr having the hots for her. I already hear from her enough I don't need you guys talking about her too

Logan🏈- Hmm...it sounds to me like Burrows jealous

Joe😎-HA you're hilarious.

Sam💪🏻- Don't deny it dude, you so are. You've ignored all texts about Y/n AND your jaw clenches every time McPherson mentions her name at practice. I haven't seen you act like this since that Brayden guy tried asking Olivia out at Nicks party.

Joe😎-I'm not jealous, okay?

Logan🏈 Denial is the first stage, my friend👀

Joe😎- You guys are such idiots, I'm not JEALOUS. Evan, if you want to ask out Y/n go right ahead.

Evan🤩- Thanks...I'll think about it

Ja'Marr🔥-Oh come on man, you are totally jealous

Joe😎- Can we change the subject?

Ja'Marr🔥- ✨Jealous✨

Logan🏈- Ja'Marr wtf?🤦‍♂️😂

Ja'Marr🔥- Just callin' it like I see it

Evan🤩- Come on guys, just leave him alone. He says he's not jealous, so he's not jealous

Sam💪🏻- You don't know him as well as Ja'Marr and I do...he's totally jealous. He just hates to admit it

Logan🏈- Joe, we'll stop talking about your jealousy if you tell us why Y/n is going to make you crazy

Joe😎- Back on the topic of Y/n once again🙄

Sam💪🏻-You're the one that brought her up in the first place! You said she's going to make you go crazy. So tell us, why is she going to make you go crazy?

Joe😎- First of all, she leaves her shit all over the place. Like her makeup out on the bathroom counter, her clothes in MY laundry, her candles all over the apartment, it's just annoying.

Logan🏈- Mhm...

Joe😎- And she leaves her, how do I put this, woman items under MY side of the sink!

Ja'Marr🔥- Wait. So you're tellin me that little cup thing I found isn't a rubber shot glass?

Sam💪🏻-Oh dear god

Joe😎- Nope. That little cup thing is called a Diva Cup, Ja'Marr

Logan🏈- Yeah it's not a shot glass😂 girls shove it up their va- you know nevermind. You get what I'm trying to say.

Ja'Marr🔥- I TOUCHED THAT THING

Evan🤩- No one told you to touch it💀

Ja'Marr🔥- I don't even know what to say.

Sam💪🏻-😭That's a first

Logan🏈-😂 What else does she do Joe?

Joe😎- She's always at the apartment and I have needs. I can't just bring dates over to the place when she's home. I've tried to hook up with a girl and twice now, TWICE Y/n has walked in on us and ruined the moment

Evan🤩- She told me about that

Joe😎-Great.

Sam💪🏻-But that's not her fault, you're the one that decides to do it on your couch

Logan🏈- And not tell them you have a roommate that's a girl

Evan🤩-A very pretty one at that

Joe😎- I guess you guys are right. She just gets so annoying to live with sometimes. I just wish she wasn't my roommate. If she wasn't my roommate maybe, you know what, nevermind.

Sam💪🏻-What do you mean?

Joe😎- Shes a really sweet girl. And fuck, she's gorgeous too.

Ja'Marr🔥-👀👀

Joe😎- We got off to a rough start and I just wish things could have been different

Logan🏈-Joe…

Joe😎-What do I do to fix this?

Sam💪🏻- Joe, man, I think you might have a crush

Joe😎-Oh come on, I do not.

Ja'Marr🔥- Come on Joey B, quit denying this shit

Loagn🏈-Just admit it, you're jealous and you like Y/n. It’s not a big deal dude

Evan🤩-Yeah. Joe, I don't want to get in your way man. Just say the word and she's all yours

Joe😎-Okay FINE. Maybe I do have feelings for Y/n and maybe I am a little jealous, but I'll get over it. She obviously really likes you Evan and I don't want to get in the way of that

Evan🤩-Are you sure?

Joe😎-Yeah, I want you both to be happy. Plus, I barely even know her. You know her better than I do, shooter😂

Logan🏈- Then get to know her Joe. You see her every day and you live with her, it wouldn't hurt to get to know her.

Sam💪🏻-He's right. Who knows, maybe you two will get along if you ACTUALLY get to know her

Joe😎- I guess you're right

Ja'Marr🔥-There ain't no guessin, they ARE right

Logan🏈-Thanks Ja'Marr😚

Ja'Marr🔥-❤️

Evan🤩- So Joe...you're sure you're fine with Y/n and I?

Joe😎-Yeah, go get her shooter.

Joes pov:

I felt my heart drop as I hit send. I shut my phone off and set it down next to me on the couch. I sighed deeply and put my head in my hands. I've never felt these feelings before—about anyone.

The guys are right, I am jealous. I'm jealous that Evan gets to be the one to talk to Y/n all the time. I'm jealous that he's the one that gets to know her in ways that I wish I could.

But this does NOT, and I repeat, does NOT mean that I have a crush on her.

I just think that Y/n is a beautiful girl with a great personality.

But I don't have a crush on her.

I'm just jealous of the other guys. She's willing to get to know my teammates and not me. I did this to myself though. If things could have gone better at the start, maybe the situation with Y/n would be much different.

Logan is right though, I just need to get to know Y/n . Somehow I need to get to know the girl I've been living with for a month now. I have no clue what to do or how I'll do it, but one thing is for sure.

Y/n and I will be on better terms soon. We have to be, right?

hey loves!!

i haven't written a chat in forever, so i apologize if it's not good. i had a lot of fun writing it though, haha!

we're slowly starting to get into the GOOD good parts of this book. joe is starting to realize that maybe you aren’t just a roommate to him after all...

i already have the next chapter written (it's one of my favorites that i've written so far and i think that you will all enjoy it very much!) but i'm going to wait to post it until this one has been up for a couple days!

anyways, i hope you are all doing well! i appreciate all of the love and support you have shown on this story. it means so much to me!!🤍

tags:

@jackharloww @ilovejoeburroww @dandelionwrites8 @ijustcrypretty @sinners-98-world @a-moment-captured @stainednailpolishremover

[izayoichan]

Rylan: I was almost worried you were lost. -they wink- Tyvan: Nah, just stumbled on someone in the hallway. Rylan: Oh. No more words were needed between the two of them, Rylan taking his drink with him to the small bench where he had his bag, taking a drink before going back to practice, while Tyvan returned to his books. After that encounter, Tyvan meeting Amuary by the treat machine quickly became the norm, and eventually the other dragon started joining Tyvan, Liam and his two friends Logan and Dinah sitting just talking, doing their homework at the rink while Rylan trained. In a way that made Liam happy, as Ams, as Tyvan had taken a liking to calling him, was about his age, and he no longer was the only pre-teen in the mix. Then it was a farewell to their friends and they either headed to the shelter if they knew their help would be needed or just appreciated, and other times they had some extra classes with the other kids of the family with Emil. 

In one evening of the latter, Flynn came home to find all the kids, including Arlo and Fan’s two little ones, who were quite often there as well. He had to admit he really liked that, because it meant he got to see his twin more often. It was most often Fan that came to get them after their visits. Smiling softly just standing in the doorway for a bit, they wondered what all of their future would bring, and in the back of his mind, he hoped it would be less dramatic than what life had been for them, but well, only time would tell.

Beginning - Previous - Next

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

For the writing ask game: 11, 19, and 31 👀

11. Three tropes that are fine but overrated.

Hahaha time to get *bitchy* in here. Let’s see - domestic fluff comes to mind first – I generally find it kind of bland, and oftentimes I feel like characters get stripped of a lot of their personality in domestic fluff narratives.

Not as much a fanfic trope, but I *hate* the “redemption through death” trope. Like. No. You don’t get to die, bitch! All is not forgiven because of a heroic death, and it’s also such a *boring* story when someone just bites it through sudden sacrifice. Let’s see how they actually work to redeem themselves - all the missteps and messiness and hurt, and the ways they can change and the ways they can’t. I wanna see a character grow, not just… dramatically fall on their sword. Redemption as a continual choice, not a one-time action. Redemption as an impossible, Sisyphean task that has to be undertaken anyway.

And… god, as much as it hurts my heart to say this. Enemies to lovers. LOOK. I love me a good enemies to lovers. But it is just *overdone* and watered down. Half the stories with that tag involve “slight disagreement to lovers” or “rivals to lovers” which ain��t the same thing! And there’s so much *discourse* around the term, too. I saw someone passionately argue that it was only good enemies to lovers if they both respected each other the entire time. Which. Nah. Give me that *spice*. Give me some real, earnest hate! Enemies should be a loaded word!

19. Share a snippet from a wip without giving any context for it.

His fist cracks against Logan’s cheekbone.

Logan’s head snaps to the side. White-hot pain blooms in Ty’s knuckles like he’s punched the side of a tractor full force.

“I told ya, I’m done.”

He’s done for real, he realizes as he says it. Maybe has been for a while. Somewhere along the line it stopped being fun and just started being scary, and he knows he’s only got his dick to blame for not always being able to tell the difference.

Logan works his jaw as he studies him.

“I know,” he says, and for a breathless, relieved instant Ty thinks that’s it, it’s over, but before he can even start feeling chagrined for losing his cool and socking him in the face, Logan scruffs him like a dog and drags him to the bed.

31. What was the most difficult fic for you to write (but in the end you made it)?

Possibly Twice Shy!! I had the general concept for that one rattling around my brain for months, but for the life of me I could not figure out how to actually shape it into a plot. I ended up gaming it out with a friend on the phone for like two hours, and i owe her an enormous debt for helping me straighten it from vibes into something actually resembling a story!!!

[reblog4myficsnotesonly]

• Baby's potty trained Ft Logan •

---

Logan was lounging on the couch, sipping his beer with a vaguely amused expression as he watched Wade attempt to assemble a toy. Vanessa was in the kitchen, humming to herself while prepping snacks. The toddler toddled into the living room, her pigtails bouncing, wearing her favorite frilly dress.

“Hi, Unca Logan!” she chirped, waving at him before grabbing her favorite stuffed bunny.

Logan raised a hand in greeting, smirking. “Hey, kiddo. You causing trouble for your old man?”

“Nah,” Wade piped up from the floor, holding a screwdriver in one hand and a set of instructions in the other. “She’s an angel. A potty-trained angel, I might add.”

Logan gave him a look. “Potty-trained? She’s still in diapers, isn’t she?”

“Oh, no,” Wade said, standing up and gesturing dramatically. “The munchkin has evolved. She’s left her diaper days behind and fully embraced the potty life.”

“Daddy!” the toddler interrupted, holding up a hand. “I gotta go potty!”

Wade instantly dropped the screwdriver and clapped his hands. “That’s my girl! Go do your thing, potty queen.”

To Logan’s utter confusion, the toddler trotted off to the bathroom with all the determination of someone on a mission.

Logan frowned, looking between Wade and Vanessa, who had just entered the room with a tray of snacks. “Did she just... excuse herself?”

Vanessa nodded, sitting down on the couch. “She’s been obsessed with using the potty lately. She’s actually pretty good at it.”

Logan blinked. “She’s like... two.”

“Right?” Wade said, grinning. “She’s a prodigy. I’m expecting her to write a memoir soon.”

Before Logan could respond, the toddler’s little voice called out from the bathroom. “Daddy! I done!”

Wade was already halfway to the bathroom. “Coming, munchkin!”

Logan watched, baffled, as Wade disappeared into the bathroom and returned a minute later with the toddler in tow. She was beaming, clearly proud of herself, and Wade was carrying a small step stool in one hand.

“She uses the stool to reach the sink,” Wade explained, setting it down so she could wash her hands.

“Look, Unca Logan!” the toddler said, turning to him with wet hands after rinsing them. “I big now!”

Logan set down his beer, looking from her to Wade. “You’re telling me she just... decides to use the toilet? No fuss, no tantrums?”

“Pretty much,” Vanessa said, smiling. “She just started insisting on it one day.”

Logan shook his head, thoroughly mystified. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my life, but a two-year-old excusing herself to go potty? That’s new.”

Wade leaned in close, smirking. “She’s not just any two-year-old, Logan. She’s *my* two-year-old. And she’s better than your healing factor because *she* doesn’t leave a mess behind.”

Logan groaned, rubbing his temple. “You’re impossible.”

The toddler climbed onto Logan’s lap, hugging her bunny. “You proud, Unca Logan?”

Logan softened, patting her head awkwardly. “Yeah, kiddo. You’re doing great.”

“See?” Wade said, pointing. “Even Wolverine thinks you’re amazing. You’re unstoppable, munchkin.”

“Unstoppable!” the toddler echoed, giggling as she snuggled into Logan.

Logan sighed, resigned to his fate. “You’re gonna raise the weirdest kid on the planet, Wade.”

“Already there, buddy,” Wade replied with a grin.

---

Would you like to explore more moments of Logan adjusting to her quirks?

[nathaniel-donovan]

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, "No, it's fine." The wall colour, that was. He's backtracking almost because he found himself realising that actually he didn't want to deal with Logan going back and forth because she couldn't decide what she liked. That just sounded like a headache waiting to happen. "Yeah I think he'll be alright." Theo at being a dad, knowing that he was trying was better than ignoring the fact that you did have a child. Nate also knew Theo didn't have a choice anyway, knowing that if he slipped up he'd only have Alara to answer to. Which was something that was unsettling in its own right. Accepting the donut being handed over with a small flash of a grin he soon bites into the pastry. "I know he won't it's just the tie.." that he was dating his second cousin's mom, "Might as well move to Alabama and be done with it." He shrugged his shoulder, he knew Theo wouldn't get in the way and Kian was sweet, he had met him a couple of times, but that didn't overthrow the facts. In time? Maybe, who knew. Hearing Logan say she didn't think he had fucked up, eased him a little, knowing that if she turned around and told him he had, he'd have a lot to think about. "Nah, you love it." The over-dramatic response. Cassie's mention caused him to nod a little, "Yeah, she's in a better place now." Clean, anyway. "Wanting to start over, by the sounds of it. I'm gonna try and see her next month," even though Cassie wasn't in town anymore, Nate still wanted to continue to try and build back their relationship, knowing it wasn't just something he wanted, but he felt their mom would have done too. "You should come." He didn't plan on forcing his sister to, he just wanted to offer that out there. "I did give her your number as she asked for it, but I guess she hasn't contacted you yet?" He asks, figuring the answer was no.

"You think it's too dark?" Her tone found a seriousness it had lacked moments before. The decision to keep the color the same almost faded away as she began to second guess herself and the grey she picked out for the walls. Letting out an annoyed sigh she decided to step away for a moment, figuring returning back to the project with fresh eyes might help. "A hundred percent unsettling," Logan called out in agreeance as she went to the back to grab the doughnuts, before making her way back up front. "But, I think he's attempting to be a good dad... Or his version of a good one. I don't know, I haven't really fully grasped that situation yet." It wasn't like Logan didn't think Theo couldn't be a good father - she just never thought he would be in that position. "Well, If you like her a lot," She paused for a moment, before handing over a doughnut to him. "Then you're gonna have to get unstuck about that." Kian being Theo's son. "Because, Kian is the sweetest kid, and I don't think Theo would get in the way of what you have with Alara. You know? I think he's too busy trying to figure out how to tie his own shoes." Tearing off a piece of the pastry and popping it into her mouth as she leaned back against the sales counter. "I don't think you've fucked up... More so that it's like an insane situation that you've kinda stumbled into." Hearing him say bye in such a high-pitched fashion, Logan couldn't help the laugh she broke into. "Please, that was the most over-dramatic thing I've ever heard." The mention of their mother also had another one of their family members cross her mind, and she let out a deep sigh as she contemplated opening that particular can of worms. "Have you heard from Cassie? Like at all?"

[eggbagelz]

This piece stems from three things: the fact that logan's STUPID handboners exist in canon and amuse me to no end, the fact im very bisexual and think these two are neat, and the fact i BADLY want kurt to dramatically dip kiss his guy. His pal. His buddy

[twinge-of-cosmicangst]

The Roy Family but as songs by The Smiths

Morrissey would hate this. All the more reason to do it.

Connor- How soon is now? from hatful of hollow

Bit angsty for Connor but it’s the Smiths so? At first this was a pick for Kendall, then when I found a better one for Kendall I listened again to see if it would fit for Shiv, but when listening to it I thought nah, it’s Connor.

I am the son and heir of nothing in particular. I AM THE THE ELDEST SON! lol, this line works for him because he is the eldest son of a very powerful man but it literally doesn’t matter he is still deemed irrelevant by his whole family.

I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does. A very relevant line for Connor, out of all his family he is the one who shows the most affection but rarely ever receives any in return.

Kendall- Still Ill from The Smiths

Yeah this one is pretty depressing, obviously. That joke isn’t funny anymore and I started something I couldn’t finish also work for him. Kendall is extremely Smiths coded.

Roman- Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me from Strangeways, here we come

Sorry.

Cheeky bonus for Roman: The boy with the thorn in his side

Shiv- I know it’s over from The Queen is dead

Ugh Shiv I love you but you are not Smiths coded, that or I just don’t understand Shiv enough brb bout to rewatch Succ for the third time. This song is what I got the most Shiv vibes from after skimming through their entire discography.

I know it’s over, refers to the end of a relationship, I think?? Can you ever be sure with the Smiths? it could be about the death of Morrissey’s pet parrot or something. But for Shiv I’m interpreting that it’s her career at Waystar as well as her parents approval that’s over, I know it’s over, and it never really began, but in my heart it was so real “Is this for real?” When Logan told her he wanted her to be his successor.

But of course, it can, as well, relate to her relationship with Tom, Sad veiled bride, please be happy

Tom- What difference does it make? from The Smiths

My basic ass was actually going to pick, There is light that never goes out, for this bitch, which could of been interpreted with either Tomgreg or Tomshiv whichever tickles your pickle, cause Tommy gives major I would die for you but it’ll be better to die with you vibes, with both of them. Although it works slightly better with Tomgreg because, Oh please don’t drop me home, because its not my home, it’s their home and I’m welcome no more, could reference how he, like Greg, has never truly been a Roy, and how Tom certainly isn’t welcome among the siblings anymore after what he did in 3x9.

Enough about the song I didn’t choose for him and on to the one I did, for while I was searching for a song for Shiv I stumbled across What difference does it make? Which fits Tom so well. Again it can be related to Tom in regards to both Tomshiv and Tomgreg, the song could be interpreted for him in that he would do an awful lot and sacrifice an awful lot for both of them, even though they probably wouldn’t do the same for him, which makes him bitter and unpleasant towards them, yet he still loves them.

Heavy words are so lightly thrown “Because you love me, even though I don’t love you” But still I’d leap in front of a flying bullet for you. This song was made for Tom’s over dramatic ass.

Oh the devil will find work for idle hands to do “Do you want to make a deal with the devil?”

Greg- Half a person from Louder than bombs

This song is apparently a bit of an obscure one, which I wasn’t aware of because I am far from a die hard fan but I’ve known this particular song for quite a while, whereas there are others on this list that I’d never heard of or listened to before. Anyway Half a person is extremely Greg coded but it’s rather hard to explain why, you just have to listen to it, you should anyway as it’s a great song and apparently relatively unknown.

Logan- Barbarianism begins at home from Meat is murder

This song relates to Logan because of the abuse his uncle inflicted on him a Ewan and the abuse he then inflicted on his own children in turn.

A bonus: Unhappy Birthday. This is not really a song for Logan but more of a song to Logan from his kids, but especially from Kendall “Pass me the fucking shotgun” Roy.

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

somebody loves you for yourself

A/N: I have had this nicomas fic in my head and have been working on it basically since fwsa came out, and it’s finally done!! it’s like 7k of pure fluff and nico meeting the sides, enjoy! (title is from Wake Up, Sunshine by All Time Low)

Summary: On a relaxing date night with Thomas, Nico stumbles upon someone on the kitchen- someone who looked eerily like his boyfriend. Then he ends up meeting five more "Thomases," as well as finding out that there is so much of his boyfriend to love.

Warnings: flirting, kissing, hugging, cuddling, remus being remus, janus being all “we live in a society,” mentions of amazon being a not great company (lmk if anything should be added, otherwise this is pure fluff!)

-

Things had been going spectacularly well with the cute disaster gay Nico had met at the mall. Since that fateful meeting, the two had exchanged numbers, gone on more dates… and well, it had been a few months now and Nico was pretty sure that Thomas was it for him. He really couldn’t picture his future without Thomas somewhere in it. Nico wasn’t really sure what he’d do without Thomas’s infectious enthusiasm, how he could go a day without seeing the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his passions or the way pink would dust his cheeks when Nico used any term of endearment towards him… well now Nico was just waxing poetic now, wasn’t he? Sue him, he was a poet! And Thomas had irrevocably become his muse.

“I was rambling again, wasn’t I?” Thomas asked, startling Nico from his thoughts. The two of them were in Thomas’s apartment, Nico watching Thomas playing Kingdom Hearts. Well… it was more Thomas playing for a bit, then pausing the game to ramble about the lore and storyline of Kingdom Hearts. But Nico was more than content to listen and watch as Thomas gestured emphatically as he spoke. Although Nico admittedly got caught up in how Thomas’s voice was like audible sunshine, how Thomas could start literally glowing from excitement and Nico wouldn’t bat an eye… Thomas once confessed to him that he had thought Nico was radiant the first time he saw him, but Nico was pretty sure it was the other way around. Thomas was the radiant one, like a beam of sunlight that had gotten confused and taken human form.

“No, it’s okay! I like hearing you ramble, it’s cute! Although… I will admit that I might have gotten a little distracted by said cuteness and zoned out,” Nico replied with a sheepish laugh. Thomas flushed and let out a squeak, hands flapping excitedly for a moment before he covered his mouth, as if he were trying to hold back the squeak that he had already let out.

“You know I don’t know how to respond to compliments!” Thomas protested when he dropped his hands down from his mouth.

“Think of it this way, babe- if I keep giving you compliments, you’ll have more practice at responding to them! Besides, you’re unreasonably cute when you get all blushy and stimmy like this,” Nico said with a grin. Thomas squeaked again, this time opting to bury his whole face in his hands.

“This is RUDE I’m being ATTACKED!” Thomas exclaimed, voice muffled behind his hands. Nico chuckled, shaking his head at his boyfriend’s dramatics.

“Okay, okay, I’ll show mercy. I was gonna get some water soon anyway. Need anything while I’m up?” he asked. Thomas looked up from his hands then, face still flushed but looking less like he was going to melt.

“Nah, I’m fine, thanks though,” Thomas replied.

“Be right back,” Nico said, and with a kiss to Thomas’s cheek to fix the not-melting problem, Nico stood up and walked over to the kitchen. He flicked on the light, and he was still rather lost in his thoughts about Thomas that he didn’t notice the man sitting on the counter until he looked up and locked eyes with him. He was… Thomas?! Or at least, someone who looked eerily similar to Thomas. He wore a black hoodie with plaid purple patches and for a moment, Nico thought he had sparkly purple eyeshadow underneath his eyes. But then the man locked eyes with Nico and the eyeshadow was black. Nico let out a surprised yelp, the man sitting on the counter yelped back, and soon enough both of them were screaming.

“Uh… everything okay in here?” Thomas asked, frowning with concern as he walked into the kitchen. He didn’t seem perturbed by the man on the counter, and Nico looked between them incredulously.

“So… were you going to tell me you had a twin, or was I just supposed to get scared half to death by finding him sitting on the counter?!” Nico demanded, unable to keep his voice from rising with mild panic. Thomas’s mouth dropped open, and he looked at the man, then back to Nico.

“You can see him?!” Thomas gasped. Nico’s expression twisted with confusion.

“Uh… kinda hard to miss an emo version of you sitting on the counter. Thomas, who is this and why are you so shocked that I can see him?” Nico asked, glancing to the man again, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to cease to exist at that present moment. But surprisingly, the man spoke up.

“He’s surprised because I’m part of him,” he said, and he even sounded like Thomas, but his voice was rougher and deeper.

“What do you mean, ‘part of him?’” Nico asked slowly.

“This is Virgil, he’s my anxiety. And up until now… I thought I was the only one who could see him,” Thomas explained. And frankly, this clarification just left Nico even more confused.

“So… your anxiety is somehow… personified? And is a real, actual person?” Nico asked.

“He’s not… ‘real,’ in that sort of sense, I thought he was more like… a figment of my imagination, or a projection of how I was feeling, anxiety-wise? Although he and the others are able to interact with the real world sometimes…” Thomas trailed off thoughtfully.

“Wait wait wait. Back up. Others?!” Nico exclaimed. Thomas instantly looked a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I- um, well…”

“We’re his ‘sides.’ Parts of his personality, basically. There’s Logan, Patton, Roman… and a few more,” Virgil explained, fidgeting with his hoodie sleeves and eyes glued to the floor.

“Oh. Okay then… so are all of you just in his head the rest of the time? How come I haven’t seen any of you before?” Nico asked.

“We usually are in his head, yeah. But I don’t know why you haven’t seen any of us until now. Heck, me and Roman were with Thomas when he met you!” Virgil exclaimed, biting his thumb nervously after his rather panicked outburst.

“Wait, you were?” Nico asked, looking to Thomas for confirmation. Thomas smiled sheepishly, dropping his hand from the back of his neck.

“Yeah. In fact, Virgil was the one who pushed me to talk to you. And uh- I mean the ‘pushed’ part literally,” Thomas explained.

“Wait really? I just thought you were clumsy- not that being clumsy is a bad thing! Kinda endearing, actually,” Nico said, expecting the inevitable blush to travel over Thomas’s face- but what he wasn’t expecting was a squeak from Virgil and his eyeshadow turning sparkly and purple.

“I mean, to be fair I am a little clumsy sometimes,” Thomas said with a nervous laugh. Nico glanced between Virgil and Thomas, a bit of a playful smirk quirking on his lips.

“Well, whether your clumsiness is just you or your sides- I think you’re all around endearing,” Nico said, voice nearly a purr. Thomas let out a delighted little sound and flapped his hands with excitement, and Virgil outright giggled. If Nico hadn’t thought Thomas was everything to him before, he definitely thought so now with meeting one of his sides.

“Your eyeshadow turns purple and sparkly when Thomas is excited, that is adorable,” Nico cooed. Virgil let out a sound that was half giggle and half yelp, hiding his flushed face in his hands. After a few deep breaths to calm himself down, he peeked up at Nico, looking timid and insecure.

“You really think so?” Virgil asked quietly, tensing up as if he were afraid of the answer.

“I do think so. It makes sense after all… Thomas is adorable, therefore his sides are adorable too,” Nico replied with a shrug. Virgil let out an elated giggle, hands flapping excitedly- and in that moment, Nico knew that he was more than okay with Thomas having sides. It just meant there was more of him to love and appreciate.

-

Since meeting Virgil, Nico was determined to meet the rest of the sides. Thomas had explained that he could summon them whenever he wanted, but Nico insisted that they could just come to him on their own. He had felt a little bad about his first meeting with Virgil being so panic-inducing for all of them, and didn’t really want a repeat of that situation. But luckily, Nico didn’t have to wait that long to meet another one of Thomas’s sides.

Nico had been sitting at the table, idly chatting with Thomas while he was in the kitchen making dinner for the two of them. Nico had offered to help, but being the sweetheart he was, Thomas insisted that he was more than happy to handle dinner. As they were talking, one of Thomas’s sides rose up into existence. This side wore glasses, a black polo, and a tie… Nico made a mental note to tell Thomas that he looked very good dressed a bit more formally.

“Thomas, please be sure to preheat the oven for the garlic bread this time,” the formally dressed side said. Then he looked over and seemed to notice Nico, and though his expression seemed carefully maintained and neutral, Nico could see his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Hi there!” Nico said, giving a small wave. A smile crept over the side’s face for half a second, but his expression quickly turned neutral again, and he adjusted his tie nervously.

“Hello. I am Logan, Thomas’s-”

“Wait! Don’t tell me which side you are, I wanna guess! It’s kind of like a puzzle… although I guess that’s kind of weird to say about part of your boyfriend’s personality…” Nico trailed off sheepishly. Logan’s face lit up, and this time it was purely unrestrained. If Nico could get heart eyes like a cartoon character, he certainly would have in this situation. Something about seeing this serious side of Thomas so excited… it made Nico’s heart flutter.

“Do you like puzzles?” Logan asked, sounding like he was trying not to seem too hopeful.

“I love puzzles!” Nico exclaimed. A grin took over Logan’s face, and with a wave of his hand, a puzzle appeared on the kitchen table. It was a Nightmare Before Christmas one of Jack Skellington’s face being made up of various scenes and characters from the movie.

“Oh- wait, I’m not sure if you’re going to be able to-” Logan’s sentence cut off abruptly when Nico reached out and took the lid off the top of the box.

“What were you saying?” Nico asked, setting the lid down and looking up to Logan. Nico could only describe his expression as calculating, but in a warm and endearing way.

“Fascinating,” Logan murmured, gazing at Nico. He felt his face heat up slightly at the attention, but was mostly feeling a little lost.

“Logan? What’s going on, buddy?” Thomas asked, observing the two of them from the other side of the kitchen counter. Logan blinked, shaking his head and looking a little sheepish.

“Apologies. I was rather fascinated that Nico was able to touch the puzzle box. I had momentarily forgotten that I am technically imaginary, and therefore anything I would summon would be imaginary as well. However, Nico seems to be able to interact with the puzzle,” Logan explained, and frankly Nico felt like he could listen to Logan talk for ages. He was so precise and professional with the way he spoke, but there was still an undercurrent of excitement and fascination.

“Maybe you guys are becoming more real, somehow?” Nico suggested.

“Perhaps, but you seem to be the only one who can see us. There have been some close calls with Joan and some of Thomas’s other close friends, but you have been the only one who has outright interacted with us,” Logan explained. Nico hummed thoughtfully as he began sorting out the puzzle pieces. Logan sat down with him and helped sort the pieces as well, flushing slightly as their hands brushed whenever they reached for the same pieces.

“Maybe it has to do with how close to Thomas someone is?” Nico asked. A contemplative expression came over Logan’s face.

“I am not responsible for Thomas’s emotions, so I would have no way of knowing. But that is a plausible theory,” Logan replied. Nico nodded, and went back to the puzzle for a few moments, sneaking a few glances at Logan every now and then.

“Well, you confirmed that you aren’t Thomas’s emotional side, and I know you aren’t his anxiety because I already met Virgil. And you seem to like Nightmare Before Christmas, but I’m not sure if that really contributes to which side you are,” Nico said, and was surprised to see Logan flush with mild embarrassment.

“I- while your skills of deduction are admirable, my reasonings for summoning a Nightmare Before Christmas puzzle was not because I enjoy the movie, but because you seem to. If the sticker on your laptop is any evidence to go by,” Logan admitted a tad sheepishly. This time it was Nico’s turn to blush, and he placed his hand over Logan’s with a grin.

“Logan, that’s so sweet! So tell me, what do you like?” Nico asked, squeezing Logan’s hand before removing it to continue the puzzle. Logan stared at his hand for a moment or two, then blinked and shook his head.

“I- erm, I do have an- an appreciation for mysteries and detective stories,” Logan replied, stumbling over his words slightly. Nico glanced up from the puzzle to see that Logan looked a little flustered, and a small smile came to his face at the sight.

“So let’s see… not emotional, seems very factual and is on the more serious side, likes puzzles, mysteries, and detectives… my guess is that you’re Thomas’s intellectual side,” Nico said. Logan’s face broke out into a grin and his expression lit up with pride, sending butterflies fluttering through Nico’s stomach.

“Correct! Although technically speaking, my official ‘title’ of sorts is that I am Thomas’s Logic,” Logan said, voice surprisingly warm and fond.

“Well then, Mr. Logic, shall we finish this puzzle?” Nico asked with a grin. A small smile slipped onto Logan’s face.

“I think we shall, Mr. Flores.”

-

Nico and Thomas had been having what they liked to call “joint creativity days.” The two of them would hang out in Thomas’s apartment while Thomas would work on a script for a video, while Nico would work on his songs or poetry. And it was on one of these joint creativity days that Nico met another one of Thomas’s sides.

“By the prophecies of Apollo, are you writing a sonnet?!” a hushed, yet excited voice piped up beside Nico. He looked over to see one of Thomas’s sides nestled rather close to him on the couch, eyes lit up with awe as he looked at Nico’s screen. The side in question was dressed like a stereotypical prince: white tunic with gold detailing, a bright red sash- but oddly enough, no crown.

“Well… I’m trying to. My songs aren’t really going anywhere, so I decided I’d try to do some poetry. But I’m getting tripped up on the syllables,” Nico said with a sigh.

“Why restrict your wondrous writing to the syllables of a sonnet? Although I do appreciate the Bard’s work,” the princely side asked.

“I thought giving myself some guidelines would help, otherwise I’ll feel like I have too many options and I don’t end up writing anything at all,” Nico said with a sigh.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re writing much with those guidelines- but this certainly is a good start!” the side said, eyes scanning over the words again. A thoughtful expression came over the side’s face, and Nico could practically see the creative gears turning in his mind. Wait… creative? Could he be- well, Nico should probably ask the side’s name before making any guesses.

“Oh gosh, what am I doing? I didn’t even ask for your name or anything!” Nico said with a sheepish laugh. The side blinked, startling slightly as he was torn from the partially written sonnet. His face broke out into a charming grin as he sprung to his feet, got down on one knee in front of the couch and took Nico’s hand in his. Nico thought he was flustered at the side’s actions- but then he spoke and Nico was fairly sure his face was burning.

“Prince Roman at your service, my fair poet,” he murmured with a kiss to the back of Nico’s hand. Nico let out a sound he absolutely refused to call a squeak.

“Where is this suave-ness when I’m trying to flirt with Nico?!” Thomas demanded indignantly. Roman stood up with a huff.

“Virgil can be very convincing when it comes to not flirting versus flirting!” Roman squawked indignantly.

“Good point,” Thomas replied with a sigh.

“Well, whenever you are comfortable enough to do it, the suave-ness is much appreciated by me,” Nico said, only sounding slightly strangled. Roman’s face lit up, and he clapped his hands together excitedly as he bounced on the balls of his feet (the lack of crown now made sense to Nico, with how much the prince seemed to move).

“Really?!” Roman squealed.

“Of course, Prince Roman- or should I say, Thomas’s creativity and passion?” Nico guessed with a grin. Nico thought Roman looked rather joyous before, but Roman’s expression turned positively ecstatic. Nico half-expected Roman to start glowing with how enthused he looked. He all but bounded forward to sit next to Nico again and hug him tightly- and then he pressed a kiss to Nico’s cheek. Nico’s face heated up once more… and okay, fine, he squeaked. Roman drew back from him quickly, looking completely mortified.

“I have never thought about a single decision I have ever made,” Roman said, voice coming out quiet and mildly strained. Nico gave Roman a comforting smile, and took the prince’s hand and squeezed it gently. Roman’s tensed form instantly relaxed, but he still looked a little distraught.

“I don’t mind a little spontaneity, your highness,” Nico murmured, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of Roman’s hand. A sound between a gasp and an exclamation left Roman’s lips and a delightful pink flush grew over his cheeks.

“I- Nico, you- I…” Roman rambled, seeming at a loss for words. Nico smiled warmly and leaned over to kiss Roman’s temple… and well, it looked like Roman wasn’t going to be formulating words any time soon.

“Nico! Now I’m really not going to get any work on this script done!” Thomas said with a laugh, setting his laptop aside.

“I can’t help that my boyfriend and his sides are so handsome and lovely! It makes complimenting you so easy,” Nico said, flashing Thomas a grin. Thomas squeaked, blushing just as brightly as Roman.

“This is DISTINCTLY not fair!” Roman pouted, which was frankly adorable in Nico’s humble opinion.

“You started it, dear Prince,” Nico hummed with a shrug, turning back to his sonnet. Nothing like a little mutual flirting and flustering to get the writing motivation flowing.

-

Halloween was approaching, which meant that pumpkin patches started opening up. So Nico came up with the date idea of going to a pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins afterwards. And was the main purpose of this date to wear cute fall clothes and take pictures with Thomas? Maybe. But Nico also really loved Halloween and carving pumpkins, so really it was a win-win.

Nico took pumpkin carving very seriously, so he was meticulous when it came to choosing a pumpkin. Thomas had already chosen his, and was watching on fondly while Nico pondered over the pumpkins. Nico had narrowed down his choices to two pumpkins when a voice piped up beside him.

“Having trouble picking there, pumpkin?” the voice asked, and Nico glanced over to see one of Thomas’s sides crouched beside him. Nico couldn’t think of any other way to describe this side other than a dad with an affinity for cats. He wore glasses, a blue polo, khakis, and a cat hoodie tied around his shoulders. Nico blinked at the side with mild confusion.

“Was that… a pun?” Nico asked. The side let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeahhh… not my best one. Oh hey! Can I just say that you look gord-eous today?” he said with a grin. Against his will, Nico’s face flushed and a giggle escaped his lips.

“You have a dad side?” Nico said, standing and turning towards Thomas with a laugh of disbelief. Thomas let out a sheepish laugh.

“Well, he’s technically more than that… but pretty much yeah,” Thomas replied.

“I didn’t think you or your sides could get any more adorable,” Nico said with a grin. Thomas flushed slightly, and a squeal came from the side beside Nico.

“Oh kiddo! You’re so sweet!” he cooed. Nico turned to the dad side with a slightly mischievous grin.

“Am I sweet as… pumpkin pie?” he asked. Thomas’s side giggled, while Thomas groaned at the pun.

“I’d say you’re even sweeter! My name’s Patton, by the way,” he said, holding out a hand to Nico. He looked at the offered hand, then to Patton’s face.

“Sorry Patton, but I don’t think a handshake is gonna do. Could I have a hug instead?” Nico asked. Patton’s face lit up like a child’s did on Christmas, and he pulled Nico into his arms with an elated sound. Thomas was a good hugger, Nico always felt safe and loved in his arms- but hugging Patton was that feeling times a thousand. Patton just radiated care and comfort, and Nico hadn’t really thought he needed a hug earlier, but part of him felt absolutely relieved to be hugged. One of Patton’s hands came up to gently card through Nico’s hair, and he all but purred at the touch.

“I’m not getting Patton back anytime soon, am I?” Thomas joked.

“No,” Nico replied with a slight pout, hugging Patton tighter.

“No complaints here!” Patton said, and Nico could hear his smile in his voice.

“I mean, to everyone else it probably looks like you’re hugging the air,” Thomas pointed out with a chuckle. Nico sighed, and regretfully drew away from Patton.

“That’s okay, I can always hug you later when there aren’t people around!” Patton chirped with a sunny grin. Okay, so Patton was definitely the side responsible for Thomas being like a ray of sunshine that came to life. But Nico had no clue as to what part of Thomas that made Patton. His kindness, maybe? But Nico had a feeling that Patton was more than that, that there was something more than the puns and cheerful attitude.

“I’ve gotta say Patton, you’ve got me a little stumped. Puns, sunny disposition, kindness… but I feel like there’s something more to you than that, something more specific that I can’t quite put my finger on,” Nico hummed thoughtfully.

“Do you want a hint?” Patton offered. Nico pondered this for a moment or two, then nodded.

“Sure, just don’t give it to me too easily,” he replied. Patton grinned, clapping his hands together excitedly.

“Yay! Well Nico, I just wanted to say that I am morally obligated to tell you that I heartily look forward to our next hug!” Patton exclaimed. Nico blinked in mild confusion, getting the feeling that Patton had used two puns in his hint. He pondered Patton’s sentence for a moment or two, regarding the side with a contemplative look.

“Are you… his morals? Or his heart?” Nico asked, more thinking out loud rather than settling on an answer.

“Both! Well, ‘officially’ I’m Thomas’s morality, his sense of right and wrong- but I’m his heart too!” Patton chirped.

“I knew there was something more to you than really good hugs and dad jokes,” Nico replied with a grin. Patton giggled, face flushing ever so slightly as he fiddled with the sleeves of his cat hoodie.

“Well, to be fair… I am mostly that sort of stuff,” he said, sounding a little sheepish. Nico regarded Patton with a concerned expression. Something about Patton’s demeanor… it struck Nico that perhaps the side didn’t think of himself all that highly. Maybe it was a bit of a stretch to assume, considering he had just met him, but there was insecurity in every fiber of his stance.

“Maybe, but it takes a lot of wisdom to deal with moral issues. You can be smart and silly, it’s not a dichotomy,” Nico said with a soft smile. Patton’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and Nico was vaguely startled to see that it looked like he was going to cry.

“Oh- I- well… well Logan’s the smart one, not me,” Patton protested, though his voice was soft and hopeful.

“Sure, Logan is logic and facts, and ‘traditional’ intelligence… but there’s a lot of different types of intelligence. You seem to lean towards emotional intelligence, which does make you smart and caring- plus you must be pretty witty to come up with puns,” Nico said, still smiling softly.

“Oh,” Patton said softly, eyes still wide and the beginnings of a smile on his face. Patton stood still for half a moment, then rushed forward to hug Nico. This hug felt completely different than the one Nico had received earlier. This time, Patton felt so small in his arms, instead of being all-encompassing comfort. Patton was the one who needed the comfort here, to know that just because he was sweet and silly, it didn’t mean he wasn’t important. Nico hugged him back tightly, reaching a hand up to run through his hair, mirroring what Patton had done with him earlier. Nico looked to Thomas over Patton’s shoulder- and was shocked to see an expression that had been eerily similar to Patton’s- disbelieving yet hopeful. Then it hit Nico- the sides’ insecurities were Thomas’s too, at least on some level. He squeezed Patton tighter and smiled at Thomas comfortingly. There was so much of Thomas to love- and Nico was determined to show Thomas that he loved every part of him.

-

Thomas and Nico were curled up on the couch, Thomas’s arm around him with his head resting on top of Nico’s. They were having a rather relaxed evening by watching The Lion King, arguably one of Nico’s favorite Disney movies (other than Nightmare Before Christmas, of course). What made this particular viewing of The Lion King so enjoyable was Thomas softly singing along to the songs and his laughter at various parts of the movie. They had gotten to “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” in the movie when Nico heard some snickering from off to the side. Nico looked over to see a mustached side with a white streak through his hair hiding behind the couch. Out of all the sides Nico had met so far, he looked the most different from Thomas. Yet something about him reminded Nico of Roman- they definitely seemed to have a similar style, as something about the side seemed regal with the elaborate black tunic and electric green sash.

“What are you giggling about?” Nico asked. The side merely cackled, wiggling excitedly behind the couch.

“You’ll seeeeeee,” he crooned. Thomas looked over to the side with an apprehensive look and sighed.

“Remus-” Thomas started, but the side (Remus?) quickly shushed him. Thomas huffed out a sigh and rolled his eyes, snuggling back into Nico. They continued watching the scene for a little while longer until Remus broke down into giggles, causing Thomas to sigh again.

“What’s so funny?” Nico asked, glancing between the television and Remus. They had gotten to the part of the song where Simba and Nala had rolled down the hill together, and Nico couldn’t quite figure out what was so amusing about that.

“Oh come on, Nala was totally asking Simba to hakuna her tatas with those bedroom eyes she was giving him,” Remus cackled. Thomas’s expression was twisted with a mixture of disgust and disappointment, while Nico couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Both Thomas and Remus looked surprised at his reaction, but Nico was too busy laughing to really wonder why.

“Hakuna her- oh my goodness how did I never think of that-” Nico said between laughs.

“And you said it would be a bad idea if I talked to Nico!” Remus scoffed with a grin.

“Cause I thought you would traumatize him, not- not whatever is happening here!” Thomas protested.

“What is happening here is that I am hilarious,” Remus shot back, his grin turning more smug than chaotic. Nico finally managed to stop laughing and catch his breath, looking to Remus with an inquisitive look.

“So you’re- what, pure chaos and humor? You also remind me of Roman in a weird way… I can’t quite puzzle you out,” Nico pondered. Remus opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by an indignant voice from the end of the couch.

“I resent that, I am NOTHING like him!” Roman exclaimed, crossing his arms and pouting slightly.

“Hey! I’m talking to Nico now, you got to meet him a few days ago!” Remus shouted back. Roman and Remus quickly devolved into childish bickering, sounding more like a pair of kids than two sides of a grown man.

“This is the first time I’ve seen your sides interact with each other, do they always bicker like this?” Nico whispered to Thomas, gaze darting between Roman and Remus as they continued to argue.

“More or less, but these two are a… special case,” Thomas muttered.

“I am quite special and spectacular, thank you,” Roman said, abandoning his argument with Remus to turn to Thomas and Nico.

“Pretty sure ‘special’ was not a compliment there, Ro-Bro,” Remus huffed. Roman let out a dramatic groan, looking to Remus his nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Why did you call me ‘Ro-Bro’, I know you have the capability to be cleverer than that,” Roman huffed.

“Well it’s true! Your name is Ro, and you’re my bro! And Thomas told me I couldn’t traumatize Nico,” Remus pouted.

“Wait, ‘bro?’ Like you guys are actually brothers?” Nico blurted, interrupting the argument before it could really begin.

“Unfortunately,” Roman huffed.

“Well I think I am an absolute delight to have as a brother,” Remus shot back, sticking out his tongue.

“More like an absolute fright!” Roman fired back.

“Awww, you called me a fright! That’s gotta be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Remus chirped, seeming genuinely pleased. Roman let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Please don’t scare off Thomas’s boyfriend?” Roman huffed. To Nico’s surprise, Remus flushed slightly.

“I won’t,” he muttered. Seeming satisfied, Roman sunk out, leaving Thomas and Nico with Remus. Nico turned to look at Remus who seemed… uncharacteristically sheepish. Nico hadn’t really known Remus for all that long, but something told him that he wasn’t the type of side to be particularly bashful.

“So… Remus. Roman’s your brother? Does that mean you guys have similar functions?” Nico asked with a contemplative expression. Remus squirmed semi-uncomfortably for a moment or two before huffing out a sigh.

“I guess so. Technically,” he said with a slight pout. Nico regarded him with a concerned eye. Remus seemed just as unwilling to admit that he had any similarities to Roman as Roman was unwilling to admit that he had any similarities to Remus.

“So you’re creativity too? But Thomas and Roman both said something about scaring or traumatizing me… so you’re Thomas’s darker creative thoughts?” Nico asked.

“Yup. But I’m his intrusive thoughts too. Y’know, those random little thoughts you get about how easy it would be to stab somebody while they’re helping you do the dishes and you happen to be drying a knife,” Remus replied, his strange melancholy demeanor shifting to something more malicious and chaotic as he spoke. Nico was suddenly reminded of the other day when he was helping Thomas do the dishes after dinner, and how Thomas had dropped a knife like it had burned him while he was drying it. Nico had fussed over him and asked if he was okay, and Thomas just blamed it on clumsiness. But now Nico could see that there was a bit more to Thomas lurking beneath the surface. Nico knew that Thomas would never hurt him- if the immense guilt and shame currently written over his face was anything to go by- but it did hurt Nico’s heart a bit to know that Thomas struggled with such thoughts and felt ashamed to talk about it.

“Well… just because you think such things doesn’t mean you’d ever do them, and thinking those sorts of things doesn’t make you an irredeemably bad person either. Plus it’s not a bad thing to have a darker imagination! Stories can’t be all sunshine and rainbows, sometimes you’ve gotta have a little darkness to even things out,” Nico explained in a soothing tone, relieved when both Thomas and Remus perked up.

“Really?” Remus asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Really! Trust me, I’m a poet. And poets love writing about dark stuff, just look at Edgar Allan Poe! He’s one of my inspirations, did you know that?” Nico asked, grinning when Remus’s face lit up.

“Me too! The Tell-Tale Heart is one of my favorites of his!” Remus exclaimed, beginning to chatter away about hearts beneath floorboards and birds that foretold death. Thomas muttered something about Nico providing Remus more nightmare fuel to torment him with, to which Nico happily placated him with a peck on the cheek and the promise to defend him from any nightmares.

-

On more than one occasion, some of Nico’s friends had enthusiastically recommended the show Good Omens to him. As it turned out, Thomas’s friends were also recommending the show to him. So they both figured it could be something they could experience together. Watching Good Omens had become a bit of a weekend tradition, and they were now halfway through the show. Nico was getting popcorn ready in the kitchen, while Thomas fussed over the television setup. For whatever reason, Thomas seemed to be struggling with pulling it up… no, that wasn’t quite it. Thomas seemed strangely hesitant about pulling up Amazon Prime onto his television.

“Something up, babe?” Nico asked as he carried the popcorn into the living room.

“No! No, I’m fine,” Thomas replied, a little too quickly as he queued up the show and sat down on the couch. For a brief moment, Nico could have sworn he heard a chilling laugh and a flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to follow it, there was nothing there. Shaking his head, Nico sat down beside Thomas and instantly cuddled into his side, popcorn still in hand.

“Sure doesn’t sound like you’re fine,” Nico said, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head up to meet Thomas’s eyes. He fidgeted for a moment or two before replying.

“Just saw an article the other day about Amazon, that’s all,” Thomas said with a sigh.

“Yeah, Jeff Bezos is a crummy guy, and unfortunately we live in a capitalist world where there is no such thing as ethical consumption,” Nico said, tone grim and melancholy.

“He’s right, Thomas. After all- what’s the phrase? Ah yes… ‘we live in a society,’” a voice crooned. Nico jumped, nearly spilling the popcorn in the process, and looked over to see one of Thomas’s sides seated on the far end of the couch. The side’s appearance absolutely radiated “stereotypical villain” with the bowler hat, capelet, and yellow gloves- but Nico couldn’t help but be reminded of Crowley due to the scales on half his face and the piercing yellow snake eye. And he wasn’t sure why, but something in the way the side regarded Nico made him flush ever so slightly.

“Janus…” Thomas trailed off, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he felt a headache coming on.

“Now Thomas, we could be avoiding this guilt if we had just pirated the show like I insisted. But instead, we’re kissing up to-” the side- Janus- started, but was cut off by Thomas.

“There are… good points to what each of you are saying. But like I said before, there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. If we spent our time trying to debate the moral standards of each and every piece of media we consume- well, we wouldn’t really have anything to consume. And that doesn’t mean we should outright ignore things like a company treating their workers terribly, but we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over something that isn’t in the realm of our immediate control either. Instead, what we can do is sign petitions and look into how else we can support underpaid and overworked workers. Besides, Good Omens is arguably queer, Neil Gaiman himself has made that pretty clear. We don’t get much of that,” Nico pointed out. Thomas and Janus seemed to ponder this for a moment or two, until Janus’s face broke into a sly grin that definitely had Nico blushing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But pirating makes Virgil freak out cause what if I end up getting a virus when I download the show from a sketchy website and then all my data gets stolen, and then-” Thomas rambled, before Janus butted in.

“And Patton prattles on about how pirating is stealing, and stealing is wrong- but tell me, stealing from a corrupt company makes a right, don’t you think?” Janus said, gaze flicking to Nico for confirmation.

“I think I underestimated you, Mr. Flores,” Janus purred, and Nico’s face was absolutely burning at this point.

“And I thought Roman was handsome and charming,” Nico said in a strangled whisper, not really meaning to say what he was thinking out loud, but was glad he did when the human side of Janus’s face turned a bright red.

“I- erm. That’s- whatever,” Janus scoffed, examining his gloves in an excuse to not meet Nico’s gaze.

“Y’know, that’s impressive. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him speechless,” Thomas commented dryly. Janus merely hissed at Thomas in reply, and Nico couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well what I think is impressive is that you have a snakey crime side,” Nico said between laughs.

“Flatterer,” Janus accused, although he was absolutely preening at Nico’s comment.

“Maybe I just think my boyfriend and his sides deserve to be flattered,” Nico replied with a shrug. Thomas let out a flustered giggle, and Janus’s human side of his face was quickly turning red again.

“Well, obviously he does. I knew that,” Janus said, trying (and failing) to seem aloof.

“The flattering also includes you here, Janus,” Nico said with a chuckle.

“Really? Oh, I’m not sure about that,” he replied, smiling coyly. Nico grinned wickedly, and Thomas glanced between Nico and Janus in a mix of mild confusion and intrigue.

“Then I’m sure you’d absolutely hate to hear that I find you incredibly stunning,” Nico purred.

“Careful there, angel- lest you fall prey to the snake in the garden,” Janus replied with a grin, flashing fangs that Nico was pretty sure weren’t there before. His brain was a little too busy re-playing the way Janus had purred “angel” on loop to actually remember.

“Speaking of snakes in gardens and angels- are we ever going to get around to watching Good Omens today or not?” Thomas asked with a chuckle.

“In a minute! I haven’t figured out which one of your sides Janus is yet,” Nico protested, shaking off his flusteredness to regard Janus with a curious eye.

“Oh please, as if you could ever unravel the marvelous mystery that is-”

“Let’s see, sneaky, snarky, dramatic, cunning, wants to encourage Thomas to commit minor crimes… anything else I’m missing?” Nico asked, cutting Janus off.

“... you forgot s-s-snakey,” Janus pouted. Nico broke into giggles at the sudden shift in Janus’s demeanor.

“Right, you’re right, sorry. So… you’re his… trickery and cunning side?” Nico tried. Janus pondered his answer for a moment or two, before he broke into a pleased grin.

“Well, I do encompass those things as well, I suppose. So I’ll give it to you- but formally, I am Thomas’s Deceit,” he said, tipping his hat to Nico.

“Pleasure to meet you, Deceit. Well, with that settled, we can watch Good Omens now!” Nico said, patting the spot on the couch next to him. Janus looked surprised for a moment or two before he shook it off and his expression was back to smug indifference.

“Well, I suppose I can be tempted to stay,” Janus said, sinking out for a moment before reappearing next to Nico. After setting the popcorn on the coffee table first, Nico grabbed one of Janus’s hands to pull him into the cuddling he and Thomas were currently engaged in.

“Hey, you’re just letting him stay cause you want double the cuddles!” Thomas teased.

“What makes you say that?” Nico asked as he wrapped an arm around Janus- while more arms than were normal for a human being wrapped themselves around Nico.

“Don’t lie to a liar, darling,” Janus crooned as he snuggled himself into Nico’s chest. Thomas rolled his eyes fondly, and with his lingering guilt about Amazon aside, the three of them settled in to watch Good Omens.

-

Thomas and Nico were on a walk in a park nearby Thomas’s place, holding hands and swinging them idly between them every once and a while. Every now and then Nico would catch Thomas giving him an incredibly sappy look- but really, Nico couldn’t blame him. After all, he was sure his own expression was as equally lovestruck.

“So, have I met all of your sides yet?” Nico asked, the question meant to be casual, but he was surprised when Thomas’s face twisted with concern and mild guilt.

“Well… you’ve met all the ones I’ve met. There’s still other parts of me that I have yet to confront,” Thomas said with a sigh.

“That’s okay! Learning about yourself is an ongoing process! And to put you at ease, there isn’t a part of you that I’ve met that I don’t love,” Nico said with an unabashedly adoring smile. This admission halted Thomas in his tracks, and he looked to Nico with wide eyes.

“Really?” he asked softly.

“Really,” Nico murmured, pulling Thomas into a kiss. Thomas made an elated sound against his mouth, holding Nico close as they kissed. When the kiss broke, he didn’t go very far, leaning his forehead against Nico’s.

“I love you too, you know,” Thomas said sheepishly.

“I know,” Nico replied with a grin, then gave Thomas another quick kiss before pulling away. He grabbed Thomas’s hand again, and the two of them continued their walk, hopelessly in love with every single part of the other.

-

Sanders Sides Tag List (send an ask/dm me to be added/removed!): @4amanxiety @adorably-angsty @alix-the-skeleton @allthemetalsoftherainbow @anxious-fander-bean @armageddonhascome @backatthebein @bangthekobrakid @bloodropsblog @cefinitely-rolo @coffeestudylive @cosmic-chu @cyndaquil17 @dani-jeanso @didsomeonesayprince @emphoenixcat @every-day-insomniac @fandomsandanythingelse @flix-net @freekiphotography @freepaperie081 @giant-motha-fuckin-snake @hanramz-the-fander @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa @i-need-a-social-life-2710 @i-really-dig-the-purple @ironwoman359 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @k1ngtok1 @kanejandkruge @kitsuneprideleader @kittycake574 @le2712 @littlemiracle05 @loganpatton @look-its-meme @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @lynlinked @mewsicalmiss @midnightcandy @moonstonefox @musicsavedmefromdeath @mystrangedarkson @nightmarejasmine @not-as-smart @of-treble-and-dragons @punsterterry @purplepatton @quoth-the-sparrow @radioactivehelena @royallyanxious @ruuworld @sanders-trash-4ever @save-me-oh-dream-of-mine @shadowsfromthesun @shygirl4991 @sleepyssnail @softbludemon @softnic @sombraplayslazertag @sos-fandoms @sweetkirbi @that-one-garbage-nerd @theatresweetheart @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @thelowlysatsuma @theresneverenoughfandoms @thisrandomperson102 @thuriweaver @vigilantvirgil @virgilantanon @yetanother-fangirl

[cursivebloodlines]

"Great! Does that mean I get to snack on the rest? I'll definitely be in need of a good sugar rush to get me through it," Logan teased, the mere thought alone amusing him greatly. Another one of his usual grins traced his lips, though it probably never quite faded to begin with. And of course, he wouldn't really need the sugar rush, it wouldn't be that difficult. At least, not really; there would be munchies there he could feast on, no doubt, but for the moment it was enough for him to keep him entertained. The thought of it all. Who was he if not a little dramatic, anyway? When Moira asked him for further info to expand on his question, he simply shrugged. "Could be both, could be neither," he joked again, being vague for the one and sole purpose of being a pain in the ass - in the normal Logan Chadwick fashion. His brows quirked upwards in silent question when she offered to answer both questions offered. His head tilted slightly, his interest piqued. His facial expression soon morphed from bantering mirth to sheer perplexity within seconds as she talked. In normal instances, he probably would have pointed out that she didn't answer the second question but he was too confused with the first answer she had provided him with! "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're kidding?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head with a gentle scoff following. "No one asks you out? I find that really hard to believe; you're beautiful, funny, and patient enough to put up with me and my shenanigans so there's another bonus," he explained almost quickly, a soft chuckle added at the end as he picked up a fry and threw it at her playfully. Logan spoke as if he was simply listing the most obvious facts the world had to offer. "Their loss anyway. Screw 'em. It's them who dunno what they're missing." Did she make things more difficult than they needed to be? He rolled his head from side to side as if seriously dwelling on the question before settling with a shrug, waving off with a laugh. "Nah. Well. Sometimes, but don't we all? And no, I promise I can act; I was thinking more about you - if you could," he teased with another laugh.

To Moira's rebuttal of bracing herself, Logan winked at her, the same grin still plastered over his face as he offered her a quick thumbs up. Said expression changed to him narrowing his eyes at her protest, and now it was time for him to roll his eyes at her. "Hmm, nah. And even if it did go both ways, you can agree it gets me out of trouble more often than not." Again, debatable. But he really did enjoy trying his luck, which he couldn't deny. A small frown etched. Again with the self-deprecation; what was that all about? "Just telling you the truth. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself." Among all the playing around, those were words he genuinely meant. Logan laughed loudly at her dramatization of a 'love confession' and honestly he couldn't stop - she was hilarious. A feigned, melodramatic yelp left his lips as the fry came into contact with his face, scrunching his face up before proceeding to pick up the dropped fry and eating it anyway. "Careful there, I almost totally believed you!" He teased. Again he attempted to think of a viable story for the two of them, but couldn't really form anything. Brief ideas...yet the pieces needed to slot together. But he was confident they could do it, definitely. "How about a classic friends-to-lovers story? Everyone is a sucker for one of those. And it sounds more believable than love at first sight, you know? Plenty of leeway to make it all cutesy and shit, whatever you want," It was a suggestion, she didn't have to take it. It was just an idea. "Activities? For a reunion?" he queried, tilting his head. "Didn't realise they did stuff like that. But hey, I'm up for it. It will be fun, yeah? You just tell me where we're going and I'll get us there," he said with a lighthearted chuckle, he always had been one to go with the flow. Some said he was too laid back for his own good.

If she was happy, then he was happy. Simple as. Logan didn't know what he was getting himself into, not really, but he had no problem with it. Any excuse to go out and have a good time was enough persuasion for him. Besides, it meant he got to spend more time with Moira which was a bonus if you asked him. Elbow perched on the table, he rested his chin against his hand, he eyed her curiously. About to ask if she was okay, that smile soon returned though he suspected there was something underlying. He could ask her later, maybe. Made a mental note of it in the back of his head. She seemed excited about this whole thing which in return, had another smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "How nice is really nice?" He retorted with a chuckle. "Wait, what? No, don't be silly. Come on. At least let me pay half. That's fairer, no?"

"You'll have to get me a ton of packets of them, then, because God knows I'll be snacking on the rings all of the time. You know me and my food..." She laughed and took a bite from her burger. When he asked 'why is that?', he didn't elaborate and she furrowed her brow. "Why is what? Why is that I trust you or why is it that I'm not seeing anyone? I can give you both answers. I'm not seeing anyone because people don't wanna see me. No one asks me out, as embarrassing as that sounds. Then again, it shouldn't be embarrassing. I dunno...I shouldn't be bothered." Moira gave a shrug of her shoulders and she popped another fry into her mouth. "You don't need to take masterclasses in acting to pretend to be my fiancé, unless you think it would take a lot of acting to pretend to be in love with me." She tilted her head to the side and gave him a little smirk. "I promise, I'm not that hard to love..." She murmured, but teased him and wrinkled up her nose a little. "I mean, from what I believe. I could be wrong and could be so fucking difficult. You've been my friend for how long now? Do I make things more difficult than I need to?"

"I can only imagine what you're going to come up with, Logan, so I'm bracing myself." Moira grinned and she rolled her eyes. She started laughing when he said his smile gets him out of trouble and she shook her head, "Uh-huh, I've seen it happen both ways, so." The woman gave him a look and sipped from her drink. When he said he'd take her falling in love with him as a huge compliment, she shook her head, "I promise you wouldn't, but that's sweet of you to say, otherwise." She chuckled and gave another roll of her eyes as he spoke about her actually being in love with him already because of the way she was talking about his dimples. "Oh, God, you caught me. I'm in love with you, Logan. So, so in love with you. It's why I asked you to do this, because I want you to fall in love with ME." She snorted and threw a fry at his face before sighing, "Okay! Okay...we'll think up a story together. I promise. And it doesn't have to be really romantic. People might see through it. It'll be cute." She bit into her lip and ran her fingers through her hair before she wiggled around a little bit. A hum escaped her and she took another bite from her burger. "They have little activities all leading up to the reunion. Not everyone does them, but I wanted to do a couple."

Moira knew she was risking a lot doing this because she could swear she's slept with quite a few people in her class in the past, as clients. Hopefully they kept their mouths shut and didn't start anything while they were there. It would lead to more trouble if they had families and everything. She took a deep breath and shook herself from her thoughts before plastering on another smile for Logan before she crossed her legs up on the seat to get more comfortable. "Apart from my massive favour that I will be forever indebted to you for doing for me..." She beamed and bit into her lip. "...we'll be staying in a really nice hotel for a week. Everything's being paid for by me. You don't need to pay a dime, I promise. I'll pick up everything because this is a lot, I know."