#hugh jackman gifs

[unlikeable-female-character]

Yeah but that’s not Logan and Laura, that’s totally Hugh and Dafne ☺️

Everybody's talking about the Honda Odyssey, but nobody's talking about Logan holding Mary Puppin's paw so that Laura can give her a high-five.

[stargrltara]

𝒞𝒪𝒲𝐵𝒪𝒴

MDNI 18+

Being new to the X-Mansion wasn’t easy. Actually, it’s been the hardest adjustment you think you’ve ever encountered.

It started when Charles Xavier found you, ridding you from your family who despised mutants and decided you’d be an amazing student at the school even though you were over 18, clearly reading some sort of potential. At first you were hesitant, but after a brief explanation and clearance you knew you didn’t really have a second option.

In fact, it was all going smoothly. You made friends really quick, probably due to your charm and your fascinating abilities. You were a really kind and nurturing person naturally, very talkative but also an observer from afar.

You had a decent roommate, though they snored and sometimes would have not so private make out sessions with their boyfriend every now and again. God you wish you could get a break from that.

Everything was way too good to be true, until, the Wolverine showed up. He walked in like he owned the place, his hair jet black and slightly mishevelled but so perfectly carved into little ears at the top. A rugged beared covered his jaw and he had these alluring hazel eyes that twinkled when they traced over your figure.

You were with your new best friend Rogue, who happened to be close with him. She immediately ran to him, “Hey, Kid.” he rumbled, and his lips curved into a smirk as he listened to her saying how much she missed him and asking him about his trip of some sort. You always heard stories about him, but seeing him in person is different, and you’re not sure why.

You stood there, arms folded over your chest as you examined him from afar. His gruff demeanour, the way his voice lowers almost into a growl when he speaks. He keeps his sentences short snd sharp, almost cold. His eyes tilted to your figure, glancing an eye before turning back to Rogue and you felt your heart drop into your stomach at the way you two locked eyes for a split second

A few hours later, you find yourself in class, daydreaming as your professor leisure’s the class on information already covered. Your mind flutters and you find yourself in a trance of thoughts. Wolverine. Thats when your teacher pulled you back into reality when she you called your name to answer a question which unfortunately you weren’t even paying attention to. Fuck.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The whole day you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And throughout a few weeks, you two were playing eye tag in the corridors or when he’d walk into your class to grab something. Even during training, you’d bat your lashes up at him as he’d scold your class on how to properly handle missions, to be honest, your mind was elsewhere, gazing into the ember of his eyes worried that he would catch a glimpse of you staring.

Thinking about how he looked in person, how tough and mean he was as everyone described. You were almost intimated; he was way bigger than you. You bet he could pick you up and throw you over his shoulder if he wanted, or wrap his bicep around your neck like a necklace. But you shouldn’t be thinking about this, especially not with him. He’s older. Over 100 years old, though he still looks perfect.

You stare at your ceiling, trying to block out the thoughts although it’s hard when you’re listening to the heavy making out happening in the bed next to you. Again. Jesus, people can be inconsiderate. But it’s impossible to block out the cacophony, so you found yourself wandering around the mansion.

The X-Mansion is gorgeous. The antique furniture and wooden walls reflecting the moons beams of ray. You carried on your journey until you got to the kitchen, it was empty, thank god, you weren’t in the mood for anyone right now.

Your tiredness had escaped after a whole bowl of icecream, you leaned against the counter beside the fridge with a spoon in mouth, about to add some more icecream to the bowl until you heard heavy footsteps.

Your ears perked up in alert. The thudding inched closer until you finally saw the source. It was him. Logan. His towering figure, his white tank top clad chest which did nothing to cover his broad shoulders and bulging biceps. His forearms veined and pure muscle.

He looked you up and down, eyes trailing down your frame as your lips parted. You didn’t know what to say, though you were salivating at the mouth; you bit back every word which strived to flutter from your lips. Instead, he muttered to you first.

“Hey.” He wasn’t new to people being surprised at his presence, being almost intimidated but also in a state of fret. You swallowed hard before planting a soft smile on your face, “Hey.” you returned, before avoiding eye contact to try and conclude the growing tension, and looking back down at your icecream.

He huffed before walking closer, every step making fire burn through your veins. “Jesus, doesn’t anybody sleep around here?” he groaned, although there was slight humour behind his voice, it was covered by his gruffness.

“Aparently not.” You gave your answers short and sweet, your voice soft, almost too inviting, incase your words triggered him or made him angry. You didn’t wanna regret saying anything.

A scoff erupted from his throat which faded into a dry chuckle, as his figure walked past you, you could smell the lingering stench of cigars and leather. You could almost sense the sin which clung to his clothes like a parasite. It invaded your nostrils, covering them like a blanket as he searched in the fridge for something.

You were curious, people have said you have no filter, you enjoy speaking your mind. You find it refreshing, and even if you didn’t, those telepaths would know anyway. Your couldnt hold yourself back. “What’cha lookin’ for—?” You muttered, head tilting before he cut you off. “—Beer. “

You smacked your lips together in acceptance of his cold attitude, knowing it was coming. His looming figure turned you turned to you, and his eyes raked over your features as they sharpened so glamorously in the moonlit sky which painted the walls a glowy silver.

Your eyes locked with his, and now you notice every crevice on his face. His gaze turned to your low cut T, fit with some shorts and your little slippers. You could feel his stare burning through your skin as he stared at your stomach, the way your shirt rid up lightly as you leaned against the counter. Though, the fire burnt so good as you knew he was almost intrigued by you.

His lips opened to speak, his voice a rough huff, “Got any beer ‘n this place?” he raised a brow, his glare still piercing your skin and shocking through your veins. God, the way he leaned an arm over the top of the fridge made him look so massive compared to you.

Looking up at him, “ ‘m not sure.. “ you trailed off, trying to recall if any of your teachers had a secret stash somewhere. “—I mean, I don’t drink, so like..” you muttered, trying to find the right words, earning a snicker from him.

“ ‘course you don’t, kid.” he chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes at his nickname for you. “Not that I’m not allowed to drink.” you asserted, “I just don’t.” He raised a brow, confused on why you’re going on a little side rant.

Truth be told, you’re just nervous. And praying that he couldn’t hear the way your heart beat out of your chest. “..right.” he muttered, before you spoke up again. “—but i’m pretty sure one of my professors have some in the cupboard somewhere.” you motioned to all the cupboards above you and beside you.

His eyes lit up, and he immediately reached for the cupboard over your head. You glared at him through your lashes as you felt the heat radiating off of his body. Almost corrupting you. He chuckled to himself in achievement before leaning against the counter beside you, popping the cap open like it was nothing and taking a long swig of the beer.

His fingers wrap around the neck of the bottle, and your eyes bore at his hands, wondering how it’d look if he got his claws out right at this very moment.

You were yearning for some sort of conversation, some communication. You wanted to hear his voice echo through your ears again, wanted to feel your heart drop into your stomach as he growled lowly. “..soo, what’s your excuse for being awake?” you attempted to should as nonchalant and unbothered as possible, your eyes locking with eachother intensely.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He answered hoarsely, and you hummed. The corner of Logan's lips quirks up in a slight, barely discernible smirk at your question. He pulls out a cigar from his pocket before lighting it like light work before taking a drag of his cigar, the smoke curling around him before he exhales.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” you sympathised but he was quick to respond, Logan catches the subtle shift in your gaze, and he can't help but notice the flicker of curiosity and unease in your eyes. His lips curl into a wry smirk at your words, his gruff exterior shielding his own weariness. “—don’t waste your apologies on me, darlin’.”

He gives a dismissive wave with the hand holding the cigar, the smoke spiralling around him like a wispy tendril. He takes a step closer, shortening the distance between you, his gaze never leaving yours. The nickname does nothing but make a pool in your stomach heat, the thick tension almost suffocating you whole.

Logan's voice is gruff and gravelly, yet there's a subtle hint of exhaustion underlying his words. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding a steely determination. He takes a moment to study your expression, observing the lines of exhaustion that slightly crease your face, the way your eyes seem to flicker with something enticing. “What’s yours?”

“—oh, I couldn’t sleep either.” You brushed off, honestly surprised by how he’s keeping up the small talk. “My roommate and her boyfriend are always doing.. stuff.” you groaned lightly at the thought of it, and Logan cocked an almost suggestive smirk at you.

“I've had my fair share of noisy roommates back in the day, kid. I guess you jus’ gotta have the talent for blocking it all out.“ He takes another sip of his beer, his gaze briefly lingering on the curve of your small of your neck as you tilt your head.

“I guess.” You repeat with a nod, “—but you’re so lucky you get your own room.” you groan fed up of your roommate always making sleeping so hard, your voice slightly envious as you watch him cross him arms over his broad chest, his muscles now flexing, and your gaze burning shaking chills down your spine.

“..I need my privacy sometimes.” His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at you, the gruffness in his tone betraying a hint of something deeper. Something more captivating.

Your brows raise instinctively, and you grin almost playfully at his words, “Oh, yeah, cowboy?” you giggled as he scoffed, but betraying a small gruff chuckle behind it.

Logan notices the suggestiveness of your smirk and can't help but huff out a small laugh. He leans back against the counter; Logan's gaze flicks between you and his cigar.

He takes another drag, the smoke encircling him like a veil, masking his subtle glances at your form. You cant deny it fuelled something in you, finally being able to talk with a man you’ve been almost stalking for weeks. A slight smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he responds, his rough voice more playful than before

“You know, you've got a real smart mouth on ya', kid. Careful, or it might get you into trouble.” He keeps his gaze locked on you, his eyes flickering over your form, appreciating your confidence.

You don’t know what’d gotten into you, but you felt yourself just spilling out whatever came to mind now. “As long as you don’t snitch on me.” Your voice was a seductive purr, low and inviting as you found yourself falling into Logan’s spell. Yes, it was your true self, but Logan seemed almost surprised at how you were drawing him in, almost enchantingly.

Logan’s baby pink lips curved into a grin, he knew what you were doing. He could sense how badly you wanted him, the way you grazed his arm softly but the touch sent ripples to his core. He put out his cigar, stubbing it onto his hand before putting it back into his pocket.

He could smell the slick growing in your underwear. He could feel the heat radiating off of your skin, seeping through his. “Don’t you worry, sugar. Your secrets safe with me.” he grumbled gruffly, though there was a glint of tempt in his words, as if he was going to give in.

You giggled softly and that only fuelled his temptation, your sweet little lips tilting into a smirk as you watched him lean closer. Taking another puff of his cigar and gazing through the haze of the smoke. You couldn’t hold back, you inched closer as did he.

“Y’know, ‘f you ever need another room to crash in..” his voice was low and dangerous, you both knew his implications. “—got a whole king sized bed to myself..” he leaned into you, your bodies were so close you could feel his weight on your petite body as you felt pinned to the counter behind you.

His rough exterior, ragged beard scratched your cheek as he leaned into your ear, his warmth fanning your skin. “—know a few ways I could put ya’ to sleep,” his chuckle was a growl, a primal growl and you gasped lightly.

Your hands flew up, grazing the sides of his arms and snaking up to his biceps, his shoulders. His face leaned back to look into your glimmering orbs and he just grinned almost hungrily at you, like he was holding back. You parted your lips, breath staggered as you whispered, “Wolverine.. It’s not a good idea—“

“Logan.” he interrupted. You repeated, “—logan.” and it rolled off your tongue so naturally, so gracefully and all he could imagine was you screaming that name all night, your voice bouncing off the walls and his hands all over you.

“Cmon.. scared you’ll like it?” he breathed, leaning in so close your lips were almost touching. You knew it was wrong, though you knew you were so tempted, so eager to just taste his liquor lips. You couldn’t form a word for once, for once you were finally silenced, beaten at your own game. You never expected this to happen.

So, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you slammed your lips against his into a starved kiss , the bold action catching him off guard but as he got into the rhythm, it flowed like a perfect melody.

The kiss was hot, passionate and raw. Teeth clashing and the lewd sounds filling the atmosphere of the kitchen. He slid his tongue past your mouth,, tasting you and savouring the flavour. Your head tilted and you moaned into his mouth, warming his lips as his fingertips drew fire at its wake on your stomach. His fingers grazed up, past your ribcage then back down to your hips. He stopped at your thighs, gripping them firmly before lifting you on the counter and breaking the hot kiss.

You were left panting, lips swollen but still wanting more. As soon as you were seated on the counter top, his big hands firmly gripped your hips like nothing, wrapping around your figure as he pulled you closer.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and his lips abruptly crashed into yours again. He growled a guttural moan into your mouth as he bit your bottom lip, this time the kiss was more eager, rough filthy even. Your tongue came out, now licking his top lip hungrily. He deepened the kiss, and you could taste the strong malt liquor and cigars that lingered on his tongue. Leaning further in, he felt a shock down in his core, bulge growing bigger and bigger by the second.

You scratched your manicured nails up the back of his neck, surely drawing blood but his skin healing in a matter of seconds as you now interlocked in his messy hair as you tugged on his scalp lightly, earning another primal groan from his lips. Your hips consciously grinded against his belt, his jeans, looking for some sort of release for the growing arousal in your panties.

He pulled away again, a stray line of spit connecting your lips before he began to lay rough open mouthed kisses all over your jaw, down to your neck and licking a long stripe up your throat before catching your lips in one more short kiss.

He unbuckled his belt, tossing it onto the ground with a loud thud and watching you bite your nails in anticipation, “..need you so bad, Logan.” you almost whined, rubbing your thighs together to ease the temptation; glaring at his with doe eyes but only sin and seduction behind them. He could feel himself growing harder at your neediness for him as you were drawing him in.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’ , “ he breathed, leaning in as his eyes locked with yours, hands coming to your hips, pulling you closer to you could feel his heat seeping onto your skin.

“..you’ll be takin’ all of me tonight.”

a/n: hey cuties!! as requested, logan howlett!! ik it’s pretty long and there isn’t any smut but i’m more than happy to make a part 2 if anyone wants<3 . xoxo. T

[unlikeable-female-character]

So Twitter is clutching its pearls over Hugh recommending the Miranda July book because of the content? The same people who spent most of last year overly sexualising him? Those people? Lol okay then

[howlett-dekarios]

𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢

▏Hugh Jackman x Reader

▏Summary: You didn't handle breakup with your boyfriend well, and Hugh ended up picking you up from the club in the middle of the night.

▏Warnings: throwing up | breakup themes | alcohol | actress!reader | toxic ex-relationship | a lot of drunk behavior |

▏Word count: 3,8k

▏A/n: Scenario of him despite it being fucking 3 am, picking you up while you're shit-faced drunk and him taking care of you? It's just too much to handle. I used the "abcdefu" fragment and also obv inspired the title on one of Fergie's songs.

You’re the fans favorite. Even though you are one of the most recognizable actress in the whole industry and still young, you’re also down-to-earth woman. Not hiding from the world or doing anything special to look better, coexisting with fans, which was the reason of many arguments with your manager. But that was the promise you made to yourself when starting it all; being true to yourself, modest and just polite to the world which gave you a chance. Enjoying every day without acting like you’re anyone special. Because in your opinion, you really weren’t. Of course there was no doubting your pure talent and hard work you put into your development but still, a horrendous part of your successful career was just a pure luck. Right place, people and time. 

One of these people was sitting beside you, laughing his ass off because of the joke you’ve just made. You knew Hugh for a few years now, almost instantly clicking the first day on set of one of the x-men movies. You just understood each other, having similar characters and valuing the same things in life despite the age difference. That’s way your energy on screen was probably such an impregnable thing, natural chemistry of two friends off the set pass on the final products.

“Y/n our source gave as an info about you breaking up with your long term partner, is it true?”

How the fuck did they know it? You couldn’t tell. It was still fresh and honestly you wouldn’t have been surprised if that ‘source’ would be your ex himself, wanting to put you in a bad light. Make you embarrass yourself in public eyes. The look Hugh was giving you wasn’t making it any easier, since you haven’t told him yet. His eyes full of worry and damn knowing him, he really would like to talk with you outside of the cameras before you’d answer this question.

“Well, yes, unfortunately we separate our ways.” You forced yourself to smile “But it was a mutual agreement. We decided that it wasn’t working for us anymore. Wish him all the best, though.”

Best your ass. He was a controlling freak who was so scared of you cheating on him with one of your co-stars that he ended up having some lady sucking his dick himself. It all started months ago, arguments about what you can and cannot do, his family pressuring you to help them out, saying how you will never be enough for their saint and lovely boy. His tantrums about you spending too much time on sets, or how you’ve been wearing too revealing clothes on premiers or other events. For the last months you’ve been feeling like a prisoner, used only for money. Which was only worse considering your public image of strong and independent woman, a feminist who would never allow that to happen. You felt ashamed of yourself for it, for how you’d been okay with him treating you like a complete trash.  

Hugh knew about it all. He has been giving you advices, being your arm to cry on after another fight in the middle of the night, suggesting a break up long before that asshole cheated. But of course, you’ve been to blind to do anything. Blindfolded by love and old memories when he had been a good guy.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Interviewer smiled apologetically, but you knew better than that to know hoe pleased he was with all of it. Having a hot take to treat media with. “Well, I’m sure a lot of guys gonna stand in line offering his hearts to you.”  You really did not need that now. You have enough of ‘fans’ both men and women posting nasty comments online. “Thank you guys for your time and wish you further successes.”

“Thank you very much.” A forced smile once again appeared on your face and Hugh did the same.

After all the cameras went off and you were on your way out, Hugh stopped you, feeling of his big palm on your arm too familiar to mistake it for anyone else.

“You okay? Why haven’t you told me?” His eyes full of concern. He isn’t mad about you not telling him, rather about that he found out this way.

“It’s just.. it’s still getting to me, okay? I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. He was a dick who didn’t deserve to breath the same air as you.” But Hugh also was quite aware of how deeply you loved that asshole. If that was up to him, he would’ve knocked the shit out of him long time ago but just for your sake he stayed silent.  “You’re sure you’re fine? Want to talk about it?” It was the least he could think of right now. Knowing your character and how young and unpredictable you were..  well it was the best for everyone if you won’t be left alone for a while.

“No, no, it’s okay. As you said he was jerk anyway. I’m completely fine, no need to worry, Hugh.” You smiled, no really sure who are you trying to convince now.

“Okay, just.. call me if you need anything. And I mean anything, Y/n, you get it?” If you gonna do something stupid, he’ll rather like to know what.

“Thanks, but everything’s fine. I got it.”

He has been reading at his place when Ryan texted him. Nothing unusual especially considering how the last adjustment to the schedule of shots to new Deadpool were made. But the time got him curious.

‘You should check it out.’  And two twitter links below.

One took him on your ex’s profile where this scumbag posted some teary statement. Rearranging whole narration of your relationship, how he was the hurt one, how you aren’t the person you’re showing to public and many, many more words that were just bunch of lies. At this point he was fucking sure that this scumback was the one who spread the information about your breakup to the media.

Not good.

But the latter one.. it was even worse.

Video of you in the club, dancing and drinking with random people. Your pupils were enlarged, forehead sweaty and your voice a bit more rough than usual, which gave him enough insight to know that you are very drunk.

It was like jumping in a rabbit hole. After one post, there was another, and another. All from the same club and all very recent. Fans being overjoyed how you were taking photos and socializing with them. Drinking shots and paying round after round on you. You dancing and singing at the top of your lungs in a top that showed almost everything that was to show and pants that were put low enough, displaying straps of your thongs. Of course in the comments people were sharing the exact address of club where the party was hosted, saying how you confidently agreed to stay until closing time.

“Shit.” He sighed. Not a chance. He checked the hour and there is no way of you staying there any minute longer. “Fuck, no.” His fingers deepen in his hair, gripping them tightly.

Thank god that he hasn’t had any drink tonight.

‘I’m on it.’ A quick text to Ryan, as a way of thanking his friend for his effort.

When he got there, the music was rumbling even outside of the club.

“I’m too old for this shit..”

At first crowd of people standing in line tried to protest, but as soon as they’ve realized who is it, the flashes of their phones were on his face. Fortunately enough for you the bouncers didn’t let paparazzi in, probably due to the club policy. Some guard at the entrance stopped him, but having a recognizable face had its advantages and now Hugh wasn’t in any position to not use them now.

As soon as he entered the lights and heat hit him. The place crumped to the brim, drunk people trying to ask for autographs or photos.

“Not now, guys, please back off.” He really tried to be polite but after a minute he realized there is no point. When another guy pushed a camera into his face, he got enough. “Not now!”

Pushing through the crowd wasn’t an easy task, but he had to do so, knowing you are having your time on the stage. The Dj at that point was your personal service, playing whatever you asked for. All fans with their hands up and phones out recording the footage that’ll be definitely a one big headache foe your agent. 

“Come on, guys! A-B-C-D-E, F-U! And your mom! And your sister! And your job! And your broke-ass car! And that shit you call art! Fuck you and your friends that I'll never see again! Everybody but your dog, you can all fuck off!” You yelled out, cheered by crowd, zeroing your drink that you honestly couldn’t remember the amount of you already had tonight. “Love you all! Fuck him!” Your drunk laugh was probably one of the most disappointing things Hugh has heard in his life.

He finally got in front of the crowd, when you’ve been dancing like your life depended on it to one of Ariana Grande’s song. And then when he was just a step ahead of you, you finally realized who it was.

“Hugh?!” You sounded surprised but not disappointed at all.

The next thing you did though.. it caught him off guard. How you tried to close your face together and only because of his reflex he had stopped you in the process, holding your wrist tightly. If this happened.. it would’ve ended up as a disaster.  A true nail in your coffin considering how many people were recording the whole situation.

“Party’s over, Y/n. I’m getting you out of here.” His tone stern.

“What?! No! I’m just starting!”

“You are not. It’s the opposite, you’re finished, princess.” His arm tried to pull you off the stage but instead he was the one brought up it which was met with cheers and screams. Just freaking perfect.  For a girl who probably couldn’t walk straight you were damn strong. Or maybe it was just him not wanting to hurt you by using full strength.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Hugh Jackman is joining the party!” A forced smile appeared on his lips, not wanting to give away how this all was out of control.

“Thank you for tonight, but unfortunately the party is over! We need to go but it was lovely to meet you all!” A quick damage control when he dragged you down and to the exit in accompaniment of flashes and yells.

“I didn’t finish my drink!” you tried to tell him but he had none of it, his grip on your wrist still tight.

“You had more than enough, Y/n.” In attempt to shield you from all the paparazzi outside, he covered you with his body, walking you like this until you both reached his car. “Get in.”

The drive was rather silent, him focusing on getting you to his place safely while you’ve been trying to stop your head from spinning so much.

“I can go back by myself..” When you got no reaction out of him, you continued. “My place is the other way..”

He sighed, knowing that arguing with you when you're like this is pointless.

“I'm not taking you to yours. You're coming to mine where I can keep an eye on you and ensure you're safe."

Once you two arrived, him helping you out of car, ensuring you won’t stumble over. Steadying you, hand on your waist while gently making you sit on the couch. The way your head fall backwards and your eyes are squeezed tightly, he could tell you probably gonna puke. It was a miracle you haven’t done it in car.

"Are you feeling nauseous at all?" He asked, concern evident in his voice.

But the sound you were making were enough answer. How you tried hard not to do it there.

“I-“

Seeing the signs, Hugh quickly hand you a nearby trashcan, gently guiding it towards your face.

"Go ahead, let it out. You’ll feel better afterward."

He rub your back soothingly, trying to comfort you as you deal with the unpleasant sensation.

“I don’t want to..” But the alco in your stomach is trying to get out more frequently. You won’t be able to hold it longer, no matter how hard you’d have tried to.

“Princess, you have to let it out. Holding it in will only make the nausea worse. It's okay, just let your body do what it needs to do."

And with that you started to puke your guts out, one oh his hands holding your hair, the other gently soothing over you back, trying to give you any comfort and reassurance that it’s alright. Tears rolled down your cheeks, your mascara all over your eyes now.

Once you finish puking, he offered you some water and a tissue to wipe your face.

"Feeling any better? Take your time."

Instead of answering you lay your head on the back of the couch, crying in embarrassment, trying to catch your breath, all events of the night slowly forcing themselves through your cloudy mind.

Your tears streaming down your face made his heart clench, all anger gone by this point. He gently place a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"It's okay, princess. Let it out. Cry if you need to. You're safe here and I'm not going anywhere."

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around you, trying to provide a sense of warmth and security.

“It’s so embarrassing. I’m so pathetic. I’m sorry.” You stammered out.

He shook his head, voice gentle but firm. "No. It’s not embarrassing, and you’re not pathetic. You made a mistake tonight, yes, but that doesn’t define you. We all make mistakes, it’s part of being human. What matters is that you learn from it and take care of yourself. You should’ve called me  but you’re not alone anymore, okay? I’m here for you, and I’ll support you through this.”

“My head is spinning..” You close your eyes again, trying to focus but without much success. “I’m sorry, Hugh.. I shouldn’t have made you do this for me, shouldn’t have to be your problem.” You recall all the night, or bunch of information that stayed in your mind and you started sobbing even more. “Fuck, so many people had seen me..” it’s clear for him how you’ve started to overthink everything. A light panic attack is on the way from your organism being overwhelmed.

“It’s nothing we can’t deal with later, princess. Now I need you to calm down and breath, in and out, alright?”

He didn’t leave your side even for a second, you swinging back and forth in attempt to get in control again. After you sobered a bit and calmed, your breath steady you tried to talk with him again.

“Sorry for the bother, Hugh..  I’ll pay you back for gas..”

“I don’t fucking care about the gas.” He couldn’t believe that it was your biggest concern now. He  gave your shoulder another gentle squeeze, hoping to reassure you. "Just focus on resting and recovering. We’ll talk more in the morning when you’re feeling better, alright?" He stood up, offering his hand to help you up. "Come on, let’s get you into bed so you can sleep this off."

“W-what? No. I-I should get home, I can call a cab..”

“There is no way I’m letting you walk out of here tonight, let’s make it clear.” The paparazzi had enough of content for one night. “You’re not in any condition to go anywhere right now. You’re tipsy and you need rest. Let me take care of you for tonight, alright? I have a guest room where you can sleep and recover. In the morning, we’ll see how you’re feeling and figure out the next steps."

“Hugh..” The shame which build up inside of you showing up. Especially remembering what you’ve almost done. Kissing him would’ve not only effecting you, but probably ended u being a big mark on his career too.. fuck you were so freaking dumb.. “Why are you even helping me?” Yes, sure he was your long time friend, but picking you completely shit faced from club in the middle of night, getting caught on many records… you definitely weren’t worth the price he’ll pay for it later.  “What have I done to deserve it?” His kindness and care..

Considering all what happened it made him chuckle softly, touched by your question.

“You don’t need to do anything to deserve a friend like me, N/n. That’s not how true friendship works. I’m here for you because I care about you and want to help you, plain and simple. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, right now you need someone to care for you, and I’m honored to be that person." He gave you a gentle smile, hoping to lift your spirits. “Now, come on. Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“I’m serious Hugh.” Your voice most sober now than the full night. “Why me?”

"You have so many qualities that make you a wonderful person. You’re talented, passionate, and kind. You have a great sense of humor and you always know how to make things fun. But most importantly, you’re loyal and genuine, and those are qualities that I greatly cherish in a friend." He paused, studying your expression. "And that’s why I’m here for you now, Y/n. Because I know that you’d be here for me too, if the situation was reversed."

But deep down he knew it wasn’t the full truth. The feelings he had towards you.. obviously he was worried when he found out about your breakup, but some part of him was happy about it. As selfish as he could sound, it gave him a chance. Chance that he has been waiting for so long now. Maybe if you weren’t drunk and fans weren’t recording everything that happened.. he would be more than okay with what you’ve tried to do in the club.

“I won’t change your mind on me staying the night?”

Hugh only chuckled on that, shaking his head. He lead you to the guest room and after giving you one of his shirts and making sure you had everything you needed, he left to finally have some sleep himself.

The next morning you woke up before him. As a form of apology you’ve prepared him a breakfast and fresh coffee, just so he could go through the day after lack of sleep you were responsible for.

"Morning." His voice still groggy but a smile formed on his face, showing the wrinkles that so many fans were crazy for. "You didn’t have to do this, you know."

“Yeah, I wanted to make it up for you.”

He took a seat at the kitchen table, watching you finish up the eggs. "Well, it’s certainly appreciated. Thank you,". A quick study you for a moment, noticing the dark circles under your eyes and the lingering signs of the previous night. "How’re you feeling this morning?"

“Like shit.” You didn’t see a point of lying to him since he had seen you in worse condition. “Been throwing up all night, honestly I’m surprised my guts are still in tact.” A deep sigh left you, while serving the food. “But other than that I’m fine. Bit hangover.” A glass of water and a package of paracetamol being a clear evidence of it. “Gonna be out of you head soon. Used enough of your hospitality.”

“Don’t say that-“

“Seen the posts of my party and you dragging me outside went viral all over the internet.” You bit your lip, knowing how  you’ll have to fall on your knees in attempt to apologize to your manger. Since he hasn’t called you yet, you assumed that before going to bed, Hugh made a few calls here and there.. another thing to be thankful for.

“You’re young, Y/n. You’re allowed to make mistakes-“

“Yes, but not everyone’s fuckups are getting caught by paparazzi.”

“Called Derek.” Here it comes. “He will try to get rid off most of the footage.”

“You know better than me that things like this just don’t magically vanish.”

“People gonna get bored. Follow the next big affair and forget about it in a week.”

You only nodded, not being in any position nor feeling like arguing with the man who literally saved you ass last night.

“As soon as I will do the laundry I’m gonna give it back to you.” Your gaze dropped to the too big tshirt you’re wearing.

“Don’t worry, you can keep it.”

The silence echoed the room, him eating the only sound around. You knew hot you have to apologize for one more thing.

“Listen, Hugh, there is no explanation for what I’ve tried to do, it was inappropriate and-“

“I don’t mind it either.”

What.

“What?”

“I said, I don’t mind.” He looked up from his plate, looking in your eyes.

“But I-“

“Yes, I know what almost happened. Believe me, if we were alone and you weren’t intoxicated.. let’s say, it could’ve ended up other way.” It made you stunned, eyes wide open, your brain not sure if it’s still some drunk daydreaming or the reality. “When you’ve said you two broke up.. I admit I wasn’t as concerned as a good friend should’ve been.”

“I-I don’t think I’m following..”

A low laugh got to your ears and the next thing you knew he was standing next to you, his big posture towering compared to your small body.

“Okay, what if I told you I don’t want to be just friends? That I never wanted? That every time I’ve seen you miserable around him I had to stop myself form kicking his balls and stealing you so his nasty hand couldn’t reach you ever again?”

“Hugh I-“

“And what if I want to finish what you started last night?” His finger cupped your jaw, leaving your lips a bit open. Shit, you looked so fucking good like this. In his clothes, in his home, in his hands. “Would you like that?”

“Fuck, please, yes.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Your lips met in a desperate kiss that was postponed too long for his liking. When you two finally get apart he smirked teasingly. “Knew it would be perfect. No screen kiss ever compares to a real one. So.. Date? Tonight?”

“I-I should talk with Derek..”

“I’ll handle him. Besides we got rid off one issue.. In the end I’m allowed to pick up my girl from the club, ain’t I?”

[marvgrrl]

God, he’s so pretty.

HUGH JACKMAN as THE WOLVERINE aka James 'Logan' Howlett (2000-2024)

X-Men (2000) X2: X-Men United (2003) X-Men: The Last Stand (2006) X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) X-Men: First Class (2011) The Wolverine (2013) X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) Logan (2017) Deadpool & Wolverine (2024)

[themareverine]

Hi!! For your valentines day event I was hoping to get a drabble with Charlie Kenton or Leopold! You pick! I'm leaving this totally up to you and PG-13 is okay, I'm 23 and use she/her pronouns o7

tysm!!

— Renaissance

Leopold Mountbatten x fem!reader

tags: fluff, some backstory added in for context, reader is an ex-girlfriend of Stuart's, Kate x Stuart mentions, definitely some blue balling of a kiss.

a/n: this definitely got away from me, honey! I haven't ever played with Leopold, and it was so much fun! This was quite the challenge. I've kinda been in a writing funk the last few days, so I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this, but, please enjoy it anyway, if you can!

☆ ── 💌FROM MARE WITH LOVE

They don’t lie about the city that never sleeps. 

It doesn’t, not truly. Sunlight may exit left and give way to starlight, but the city’s blood never stops pumping in its concrete veins. Forever time starved and anorexic in the thrumming life of a big city, there’s never enough of the twenty-four seven left.

The clock always spins out of control, there’s always a redline, nothing is ever on time but somehow, also, never truly late. 

Anonymous faces are millions among millions, rubbing elbows and fighting to look away all while never really accomplishing the task – one is truly nameless in a neverending current, without really even having to be anyone at all. 

New York is a Goliath that breathes unlike any other giant of its kind, and she didn’t really realize how right Hollywood got it until her sneakers had scuffed Jamaica Station’s dirty pavement three weeks ago, feet throbbing as her calf muscles all but lacerated from bone.

Still, the chill of spring cutting through her clothes kissed her in the early mornings, watching the fingers of skyscrapers reaching from the earth into flat, gray sky.

It had taken an hour tracking her luggage, fighting the hive of bodies at JFK on a Friday – that crushing feeling of being packed into open air like a sardine had her head spinning, buildings and street signs blurring together like watercolors. 

Veins of taxi-yellow had conquered her dreams the first night she’d dreamed, curled under comfortable blankets in her college best friend’s apartment — she’d lost a cab to a local, who’d all but shoved her off the curb with nothing so much as a by-your-leave. 

Cabs mocked her, public transportation chuckled and would shake its head, if possible, at the naive little lamb behind her eyes, taking in the wilds of the urban jungle all too much of the first time. 

Her first day alone in the city, Stuart had warned her not to venture far from the apartment without escort – his vacation from his mad scientist work didn’t start until the weekend. “We’ll go out and you can get your first taste of the city, just you wait — but stay here. Bart needs the company anyway,” he’d offered nothing else, naturally. Stuart never had felt a need to share important details. 

Simply just thrust the half-abandoned coffee in his Back to the Future mug into her hand as she took up the doorway to his room, speaking around the pencil between his teeth as he wrangled into a jacket.  

And Bart was quiet enough, sure. She liked dogs — her parents had four of them at the farm, coupled with the flocks of geese and chicken, horses and the odd smattering of dairy cows laying around the lazy sunlight of spring. 

They’d all but donned black in grief when she announced she would be taking time in New York to see Stuart, the man she was supposed to be married to, if heaven allowed. 

Overwhelmed at the prospect of their progeny returning to the only man who had ever bothered to date her romantically, they’d deflated as soon as the evidence became irreconcilable — Stuart’s girlfriend, Kate, would be only a phone call away if she needed anything. 

Her mother had gasped so audibly it could be heard from the team currently bunking at the International Space Station. 

But where Bart was good company she could handle, Stuart’s unexplained roommate — Leo, no, Leopold right? –  was not.

Very much unexplained, actually, his presence in her ex’s apartment.

Stranger things certainly happened within the lines of New York City, she knew. And Stuart hadn’t felt it necessary to share this information with her the first night in.

What a guy. 

She’d almost felt her heart eviscerating into atoms when she’d padded out of Stuart’s room in socks, a too-big Batman T-shirt and sleeping shorts — thank God she's opened to sleep clothed. Looking like hell warmed over and in desperate need of caffeine, to boot.

Stuart didn’t possess a mirror in his room, and a passing glance by the TV offered somewhat of a reflection that confirmed she’d slept like the dead. Hair similar to something from the 80s, wilding in every direction – hadn’t even bothered.

Why would she? This was Stuart’s apartment, he confirmed he lived alone. Or, well — had. Past tense. 

Last night’s booze from Stuart’s tragic supply of in-apartment food still lingered in the back of her mouth, threatened to make a reappearance when Leopold had just  stood up from the couch in the living space, stretching long arms over his head in a catlike, very-much-there stretch. 

Stars aligned and her anatomy reborn in places you don’t confess, in the blink of an eye. As he’d come about sharply on his foot, wide eyed and milk white with surprise, as if she were the unexpected intrusion into Stuart’s little apartment. 

Three weeks ago she’d thrown War and Peace at the Duke of Albany’s head, all but threatening decapitation. An offense that, in Leopold’s time, surely, would have her head rolling. 

She believed him, of course. Why would he lie about time travel? Why would Stuart have scientific evidence and K-Mart photographs, all for lies? Stuart didn’t even like K-Mart.

He could barely carry on a conversation with the same barista he’d been getting coffee from for three years. 

It wasn't unthinkable, time travel. God himself had parted seas, held the sun in place for Joshua. Time travel was not beyond the realm of the Almighty, reasons aside.

How and why didn’t really matter, not in the blip of a grand scheme of a person’s life — Leopold had stumbled into the modern age for a reason, bless him. For what, who was to know? 

Divisions of her were grateful, three weeks into the arrangement, to not be the only one in the city not from here. To have company that understood the shock and awe of new wonders, of a city with it’s own voice.

Leopold was as naive and innocent to this world as she was to New York, a combination she found riveting and more thrilling than she’d admit in therapy. A renaissance man in an era that had forgotten renaissance. 

What a trip. “Lost in your thoughts again, hm?” 

Jarred by the light brush of Leopold’s hand against the back of her own as they cut through the bodies clogging  the afternoon sidewalk, she tucks a little closer to his side. Rests a stabilizing hand on his arm, trying not to knock into those waiting at the crosswalk. 

Often during these last three weeks, she got so lost thinking not only about Leopold’s situation, but him — how he takes up more space than God, but not in an aggressive way. A smile as bright and lovely as any Monet, that races the sun.

How his otherworldly charm cracks like a whip when he wants it to but isn’t cutting or belittling to those without — and the way he moves. Regal and alive in a way that’s as raw and natural as the world beneath her feet. 

He’s more alive than any man she’d ever known, so otherworldly. 

Reading a thousand fantasy manuscripts in her nine-to-five had ruined her for most men in the world, the idea so far away in between pages font choice. Nobody of Leopold’s caliber existed outside of fiction, she’d stake her life on it. The upper echelon was an understatement—people just didn’t dare dream about men like him.

A prince charming on a white horse— minus the horse and the Cinderella-esque backdrop. 

“Yeah, just a little,” her spine straightens a little more as his hand comes to linger at the low of her back, a sort of medieval courtesy that’s only ever written about. It sparks low embers in the fire of her gut as they cross the street with the others, she nods towards the subway stairs cutting down into the earth,  “Sorry, just—thinking. We’re going this way, I think,” puffing out a breath, “if my sense of direction is right.”  

He hums quietly, taking to her left to allow her access to the stair’s rail, “You possess more of a head for direction than any other woman I’ve had the pleasure to know,” he chuckles, his elbow extending politely, the nod of his chin gesturing for her to loop her arm through his.

“I trust you implicitly in this, my dear.” 

My dear.

Her heart kicks like a mule against her ribs.

“Such blind faith you have, Leo,” her nose scrunches, and she dips her gaze to her feet lest he notice the pop of color on her cheeks, “Could be leading us to Timbuktu for all you know—I’ve never been to New York. You probably know this city better than me, my lord.” 

His chest rumbles with a low, pleasant chuckle that’s almost growling.

“A venture to Timbuktu does not sound so unpleasant, such company considered."

His smile is genuine, nearly flawless—wrinkles around his eyes deepen with the effort as he leans in to whisper in her ear, “And—do be careful about such flattery, my lady. I’m prone to blushing under the attentions of the fairer sex.”  

Heat pouncing into the pit of her stomach, she swallows the gaps that threaten to knock her back teeth.

For all of a few seconds she expects to be speechless, but his endlessly charming wink produced a wry little smile of her own. 

“Is that right?” Elbowing him gently in the ribs, she giggles, “You don’t strike me as the type to blush, Leo,” brushing a curl behind her ear, “especially not with the ladies—not with all that suave charm. I still can’t believe you’re not married in your world,”

It's a topic she’d been hesitant to address, but he’d assured her he didn’t mind discussion the affairs of marriage over the course of their quick and blossoming companionship.

“But I understand. To give your heart away is a divine act. To love, well — that’s selfless. And hard.” 

He nods, once. Firmly. Too firmly for a man of his stature.

“Indeed. If I recall my uncle’s frustrations properly, ‘tis one of my many fiercely tiresome flaws, I’m afraid,” the venom behind his words is contained, but on a blade’s edge. Wlilling to fly at any moment.

The muscle in his jaw ticks with effort, “And to love is to be selfless, certainly, though in some cases it demands more of us than we think we can bear.” 

Weighty shadows behind his eyes shoves her into silent corners. 

Her arm slides through his proffered one like it’s the easiest thing in the world, more at home at his side than she’s ever felt. Leopold leads her down the stairs graciously, hand over hers on his arm in a sort of protection she’d only ever seen depicted in period films.

The landing comes up quickly, and he guides her a little closer to his side in the crowd, until her hip brushes his. And how the fibers of her jacket kiss the little pull of Stuart’s leather jacket draped across his frame may as well topple mountains in her soul.

The maw of the subway track looms beyond them, dark and ominous, more dungeon-esque than she’d ever imagined.

People pile in. Open air shrinks around them rapidly, forcing her to a snug against Leopold’s side that, by all counts, is far too intimate for her conservative liking.

He doesn’t seem to mind, however, too busy watching people and eyeballing for the train. She can feel the thrum of his heart from here, the bite of aftershave he’d borrowed from Stuart so alive on his skin it may as well reach out to smack her. 

His hand firms over hers still looped through his arm, the rumble of an engine in the darkness signaling the arrival of their train.

“Extraordinary,” he shakes his head, marveled as the subway comes up quickly in a burst of light and steel. It pulls to a sharp stop as the doors pop open with a static hiss, and Leopold is frozen in an airy, almost fond, wonder. 

“Whoever would have thought, beneath this very city. Boggling, simply wondrous.”  

Taking her arm, he tugs her forward into the car not at all unlike an eager child. A sweeping gaze down the length of the car and Leopold decides they will stand, reaching above his head for the standing bar.

His chest opens to a broad that empties her mouth of any and all moisture as she collects her breathing, straightens the line of her long jacket. 

She situates her purse when Leopold’s arm gently slips around her shoulders, drawing her into his chest beneath his arm. His smile down at her is soft, a tender gaze considering the features of her face as she shyly peers up at him through her lashes.

Here against his ribs, she can feel the throb of his heart, how his lungs fill with breath and empty steadily, like the rising of the sun. 

And he’s so beautiful, so everything she’d only ever wrote about in diaries and film and poetry she’d never showed the world. 

His warmth intoxicates her blood, she’s keening beneath his quiet shadow — she can’t breathe properly when his gaze drops from her eyes to her mouth.

It’s that Hollywood moment everyone talks about, but few ever experience, and her skin explodes with chill when he manages to pull in a sharp little inhale that straightens his spine, squares back his shoulders. 

Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, her toes curl within her sneakers — it’s almost surely that moment. Her brain laps with the thought of kissing him, wondering how he’d taste; experiencing for the first time how a kiss could shatter the very glass ceiling of the known universe. 

At one point in her life, she’d never imagined kissing anyone but Stuart—the man her parents loved like a son. How long ago that felt, almost as if it were another lifetime, on another planet. 

She can’t fathom how, in any time, he’d be the right man when the right man stands right in front of her. 

His arm around her shoulders shifts to gently skip his thumb along her arm, tenderly. “Do you know you are beautiful thing?”

A small smile forms around the words when her eyes snap up, breathlessly, and Leopold drops his hand from the standing bar above them to tip her chin up with tender fingers, “I have seen many women in my time, but few so fiercely beautiful,” his eyes hold hers, and she can’t help but notice he swallows a little breath.

“Stuart is a foolish man, letting you slip away if he truly once possessed you as his own. Unimaginable.” 

Tears well behind her lashes, his warmth pounding at walls around her heart. The way he looks at her, his eyes soft and so deeply honest, rattles her places she can’t quite identify. It’s like ripping open heavy curtains to a darkened room deprived of sunlight, flinching at pervasive light. Hurts, but in a good way—like removing a thorn. 

And there are thorns to remove, many of them — Stuart had contributed little to what the world has done. 

Looking away, she goes to step out from beneath his arm. Leopold retaliates, pressing her closer, his arm firm along her shoulders. Unyielding, like a sentinel pillar.

Wanting to rest a hand on his chest, she pulls it away as if he is a furnace — the heavy throb of his heart beneath her hand is all too hot, all too intimate, to fathom. 

His brow lifts, curiously, “It would please me if you’d allow me to kiss you,” with all seriousness he graces her with title, breath shallow and even.

He edges her a little closer, and almost mindlessly, she lifts on her toes to meet his angle.

“I’ve wanted to do so since the first moment I heard you say my name.” His lower lip rolls in, tempted, “Say my name. Speak it, and I’ll be yours.” 

It escapes her, suddenly, how many times she’s said his name in the last three weeks — but it doesn’t matter. Now it takes on an entirely new meaning, a weight that threatens to change the small universe between them.

Only able to be reborn beneath his gaze, she feels her chest swelling with warm pride—with a riotous joy that rattles her all the way down. 

Never had she imagined hearing such words, such love. In seconds, she’s Aphrodite, lost to the ages in the weight of his gaze, adrift in his words. Who even spoke like that, anymore? Nobody, she knows — nobody here, nobody like you. It only could be the words of a man out of time, a man in renaissance.  

Weighing the weight of his name on her tongue, she swallows how wrong the short of Leo feels, now.

He can never be Leo again — Leo was a man shacking up with her ex boyfriend in New York City, starry eyed and funny in his innocence. A friend, someone she could enjoy talking to. 

He no longer existed. Leopold took his place, burying any boyish fantasy between them.

He was a man, standing like the sun, extending to her a sort of thing only ever envisioned. Where Leo was a boyish wonder, Leopold was a man of purpose, driven. Powerful. Man enough to bend the very boughs of time and space. 

Her lips form around the syllables and consonants of his name. And it tastes so good, a sweet thing that she’ll dine on with every breath God decides to lend.

How many times does she say his name to make him hers? A hundred? A thousand?

Uncountable lifetimes of him would never be enough. 

So she says it again, again, again and again. 

“Leopold.” 

@sidkneeeee

@thevoicefromanotherworld

@misscrissfemmefatale

@eternallyfrustratedwriter

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@laaadygisbooornex3

@itsafullmoon

@kmc1989

@steviebbboi

@matronmothercrone

[landoslastnerve]

DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE dir. Shawn Levy (2024)

[tragicsiblings]

— (insp)

[unlikeable-female-character]

Another fictional man setting the bar impossibly high

MEG RYAN and HUGH JACKMAN in KATE & LEOPOLD (2001) dir. james mangold

[kendyroy]

“They gave me runway in this film. There’s one monologue in there. I can’t tell you the details of it. I say more words in that monologue than I said in an entire movie once as Wolverine. But there are sides of the character that I’ve been scratching at for 24 years […] There is stuff in this movie where I was like, ‘This is the thing I’ve been trying to get out’ and I feel so excited about it.”

— Hugh Jackman talking about Logan in Deadpool & Wolverine (x)

[blursbian]

Deadpool & Wolverine Honda Odyssey fight slowed gifset

[watmalik]

We moved on WAY too fvking quickly from this…

[andrew-garfielld]

DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE  2024 | dir. Shawn Levy (Clip)

[ayo-edebiri]

Deadpool & Wolverine + text posts

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'violence is our love language' deadpool and wolverine (2024)