#logan howlett x reader

[catssluvr]

boyfriend logan howlett <3

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who is irrevocably in love with you, even if not very good at voicing it most times. he yearned for you for such a long time that now that he has you, he can’t help but literally kiss the ground you walk on and see you as someone meant to be in his life.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who loves mornings with you. wakes up quite early so doesn’t blame you for being groggy, gently guiding you to the kitchen to make breakfast. pulls you to sit on his lap while he has his coffee and reads the newspaper - you’re mostly dozing off on his shoulder or spacing out but he doesn’t seem to mind it, pressing small kisses to your forehead every other minute.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who tries not to melt on the spot when you come to stand beside him while he’s talking to someone, sliding your hand across his waist until you have your arm around it. he’d never admit it but he almost always stumbles on his words when you do it. logan’s waist being a soft spot.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who does domestic chores as if they’re nothing. you’ll find him folding your clothes on a random afternoon or carefully learning how to iron them because he’s really trying. is absolutely hubby material from day one!!

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who might not mention it, but notices and makes note about every complain or unfortunate thing you mention. your shower’s water is too cold? you can be sure it’ll be magically fixed the next day. run out of your favorite perfume? logan will hand it to you a few days later like it’s a penny.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who is sooo horrible with using technology. barely even has a cellphone until you insist he needs a nice one so you can text him when you’re away and send him silly videos, and who is he to tell you no? might write in all caps for the first few weeks but he gets the hang of it <3 is definitely a very dry texter but doesn’t mean to be.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who will use petnames like ‘woman’ or ‘trouble’ in the most affectionate possible, the words always coming paired with a very much whipped smile. almost in a way of hiding his fondness for you, as if that could even be possible. not to mention he absolutely blushes the first few times you use sweet petnames on him, has a personal but very secret favorite, ‘baby’ <3

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who gets out of bed in the morning for a quick second so he can brush his teeth and come back to wake you up with fresh minty kisses. but if you tell him you also have morning breath, he’s quick to brush it off and tell you he really doesn’t care.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan whose gaze turns gentle everytime you walk into the room, immediately wiping the constant frown he has on his face off. talks to you with an unusually soft voice that no one else gets to hear

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who gets extra grumpy when sleepy (even though he sounds more whiny than anything else), curling up into you and forgetting about his inner fragile masculinity for a split second. will even pout when you make fun of his bedhead.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who is a sucker for hugs from behind. if he finds you cooking in the evening right when he was looking for you, he’ll be on you like an ivy in a matter of seconds. hugs your midsection gently, resting his cheek against yours with a gentle squeeze before kissing it and asking you about your day - all of it without letting go of you :)

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who will willingly drive you around in his truck, even if you have your own car and know how to drive. feels better knowing you’re dropped off and picked up safe. keeps his hand on your thigh at almost all times, squeezing it from time to time and bringing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss there. and god, you have to hold yourself back from drooling when he reaches a hand behind your seat to see properly when reversing the truck, muscly arm almost ripping through his tight tee.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who always makes sure you’re eating well, even if you never gave him reason to doubt that. always makes you lunch when he can and takes it absolutely personally when you mention you didn’t have time to have a proper meal the whole day. definitely learns how to make your favorite foods just because.

⋆˚࿔ bf!logan who starts being extra careful when on a mission, not just because he really has a reason to live now, but because by now he has realized how much he means to you and would never willingly put you through the pain of losing him. not to mention never seeing your face again seems like torture to him.

honorable mention @purpleandredlavalamps <3

[ddejavvu]

Reader hovers over mean Logan’s face 

Logan was not having it. His girl better sit all the way down.

this post is 18+, minors dni.

Your knees are supported nicely by the plush mattress beneath them, but the way Logan feasts on your cunt makes them threaten to buckle anyways. Your weight is partially balanced on them, and you have to use half of your remaining brainpower to ensure you don't come down completely on Logan's face and asphyxiate him. He'd told you to sit, he'd barked it at you like an order, actually, but you know he didn't really mean for you to rest your entire weight on his face.

If there were anyone capable of surviving that, it would be Logan and his adamantium skeleton. But you're hovering regardless, panting and mewling as you watch Logan coat his face in your slick release.

He catches you looking at him, his eyes snapping open at a particularly weak moan from you. His beard is surely glistening with your release now, but all you see is his nose as he drags it upwards to nudge at your clit.

You jolt in place, and at the realization that he's not pressed beneath your weight anymore- at the realization that you're hovering, his eyes narrow, and his teeth bare in a snarl as he sinks them into your inner thigh quicker than you can process.

It's a hard bite, one that's just shy of breaking your skin and will surely leave a mark for the morning. It's shocking, and you lose the concentration you'd been reserving for keeping yourself balanced, your weight falling on Logan with bruising force.

He's not deterred.

He plunges his face into your cunt, much closer now, much more all-encompassing, and ravages you so voraciously you're sure you'll faint. His lips, his tongue, his teeth, his nose, all of them poke and prod and scrape and nip and swipe at your sex with such hunger it makes your vision darken at the corners.

It's so much stimulation, and the grunts and growls Logan is making as he smothers himself in your cunt are added sensation. The whole experience rockets you towards an orgasm that takes you by such surprise you nearly fall forwards into the headboard.

You scream, with no thought to anyone overhearing, anyone who might be passing through the hall or in the next room over. You're in a hotel- a nice one, sure, but one that you're sure doesn't have sound-proof rooms. But you don't care, your mouth falls open and you scream loud and long as Logan sucks and licks viciously at your overstimulated cunt.

"Don't fucking hover," He snaps, his voice gruff, and you almost miss it with the way it's muffled into your thigh, "Sit. I said sit, didn't I?"

He's glaring at you now, face barely visible between your thighs. But his glare is all you need to know he's pissed, and you nod vigorously when you realize he wants an answer.

"So sit." He growls, hands digging into your thighs to keep you cemented over his face, "And get comfy. You're gonna be here until you learn to follow directions."

[loganficsonly]

Oh oh! Reader who randomly get horny at night and can’t sleep but Logan is always asleep or on the verge of it so she feels guilty saying anything but Logan always no matter how tired he is fucks her

probably a little different from what you asked but it's 4am... (i honestly don't know if it's good lmao)

f!reader under the cut, 0.6k 18+ MDNI!!!

"Shit, baby."

Logan's voice is deep against your ear. You moan, feeling full, head tipped back against his shoulder. He has his arms wrapped right under your breasts and over your stomach as he spoons you. The sheets are getting damp from warmth and sweat, and his cock inside of you feels so good, yet you can't help but apologize.

"S-Sorry—"

Because this happens every time, and every time, it's your fault.

Because he could be sleepy and tired, and you could be sleepy and tired, but there's just something in that liminal space between consciousness and unconsciousness that turns you on so fucking much.

You rotate the blame.

Two nights ago, it's your sleep shorts' fault: they were too loose, kept riding up, so much that while you tossed and turned to find just the right position to sleep in, all you could think about was how exposed you felt. How he felt against your bare ass cheeks.

After pathetically trying to find relief in the subtlest of grinds against the bulge of his cock (he wasn't even hard), Logan took matters into his own hands.

Literally. Fingered you until your tears stained the pillow and plowed into you from behind. You had half a mind to think he'd gotten sick of your untimely cravings, but then he started fucking you like he hadn't emptied his load in your cunt and you knew you were okay.

"Gonna scrape 'em out," he panted against the nape of your neck, chest heavy on your back. "Fill her up with a fresh batch, yeah? You want that?"

You could only babble nonsense back at him, voice muffled by the pillow. Something monosyllabic like fuck, yes, please.

Yesterday night was not very different. You blame it on his smell.

Not that he smells bad—it's the opposite. Over your time together, the cells in your body retrofit themselves to his DNA (sometimes with his help with cock in your gut) and as a result, his scent has become an oxymoronic combination of relaxant and stimulant. Makes you fall asleep faster, yet not want to sleep.

So when last night you told him "you smell so good, Lo, please, want you so bad" while sucking on his earlobe, what else was there for him to do but let you take what you want?

Turned out you wanted to ride him. Sat on his cock, felt it in your lower stomach, all while keeping your nose at the crook of his neck.

He called you a good girl for that. Let you play, watched as you desperately undulated your hips, swallowing his length in your greedy, sopping cunt until you whined "can't," and suddenly his hands on your waist were piloting you. Bouncing you up and down his cock.

"Look atcha," he tutted, not a trace of a smile on his face—that somehow got you going even more.

"So spoiled. Can't handle a bit of hard work, honey? You're lucky you got a guy like me to take care 'f ya."

For all his complaints, he sure is being very accommodating right now.

The drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls are far from satisfying. They're excruciating, almost non-existent in speed. His breaths are shallow against the slope of your shoulder and you think he might have fallen asleep, but the way he's still pulling out like it's a surgery says he's very much aware of what's happening.

His fat tip snags against your clit on its way back in and you whine. The arm on your bust line tightens, moving so that his hand is in front of your face.

Before Logan can even brush his fingers on your lips, you're already sucking on them. He groans.

"Fucking hell."

Halfway in, he decides patience is overrated, and slams the rest of him into you. It's small, considering all the filthy things you've done with him, but feels monumental. Your body's jerk is muted by his tight grip around you.

Tonight, you blame the way he strokes your hair before bed. Much more innocuous than revealing sleepwear or his natural aphrodisiac, yet is just as effective in riling you up.

He was so sweet, listening to you talk about your day while you nodded off. A big palm on your crown all the while, brushing its way down in slow, reassuring strokes.

Nothing turns you on more than a man who loves you.

So here you are, taking all of his inches like a champ, wiggling your ass against him just to feel that much fuller. His fingers in your mouth press deeper before they dislodge. You pant, gasping in a lungful of air.

"Greedy," he chides, chin near your temple. Fuck, you love how you fit against him.

"I'm sorry, I need—"

"Uh-uh. Know you need more, but 'm gonna give it to how I want it."

Just to prove his point, he drags his cock out again. Your hips protest, chasing him, but it's only half-successful until one of his arms stop you. You cry out pitifully.

He bites the shell of your ear. "Want it?"

"Yes—"

"Wanna get fucked by your man's big fat cock?"

"Yes...!"

A scoff. "Too bad. 'm tired."

You can hear the lazy grin in his voice. He might be lying, too.

"Ya keep drainin' me, sweetheart. So keep still, and maybe I'll have enough energy to eventually make this pussy cry f'me."

He pushes slowly back in and a moan escapes you, like his words already push you to the edge he's describing. Bottoms out. Thrusts his hips just to make sure there's no space in you that isn't wrapped around his cock.

You feel slick covering your ass and inner thighs.

"But 'till then you're gonna keep me warm. Don't move. Otherwise I won't let you come."

"Logan," you breathe, squirming. His hand and arm stops you. Locks you. Cages. It's only with him that you can feel dizzy from pent-up need while being plugged full.

"Hush." He kisses your temple, a maddening kindness amidst cutthroat cruelty. "What's the worst that could happen?"

You whimper and mewl, exhales stuttering, throat constricting around a sound that threatens to beg for just a taste of friction.

"Maybe 'll fall asleep with my cock in you," he smirks against your hair.

"No, please—"

"No? But that way I'll get to wake up inside you. Could fuck you first thing in the morning."

You grip his arms, bite your lip, but there's no way he doesn't feel the clench of your pussy at the thought.

"Y'like that, hm?"

Fingers move up a rogue path to pinch and play with your nipple. You tilt your head back against him even more, his beard at the top edge of your vision.

"Fuck—"

"Yeah, fuck's right, honey. Y'like fucking so much, you can wait for it a little more. Only good girls get rewarded."

You almost cry. He lets out a throaty laugh that reverberates throughout your system.

Then his mouth moves to your ear again, grin apparent even when you can't see his face.

"Except for me, you're a little slut. Aren'tcha darlin'?"

[lostinlovingrevery]

You Lost, Darling?

Origins! Logan X F! Reader

A/N: AH ITS FINALLY HERE AFTER FIGHTING FOR MY LIFE!!! This is for the Wet Hot Logan Summer Ficathon hosted by @lareinedulune !!! I got @themareverine prompt for camping! this entire thing honestly doesnt have a plot, it's just nearly 5k word vomit of cute camping moments with everybody's favorite luscious hair, lovesick hubby wolverine. seriously, i keep looking at the gif above and blushing at his smile. god, its me again.

also thanks to @damimami1994 who helped brainstorm this fic and was my beta reader so many times, i appreciate her so much <3

Warnings: Pure fluff, smooches, more fluff, logan scares the shit out of reader more than once (menace), first meeting -> established relationship, camping in nature and stuff, this man is in LOVE (but so are you), probs some suggesstive stuff in here but nothing explicit, reader and logan are both menaces to each other (be each others peace? pfffft)

"You lost darling?"

That was the first words that Logan Howlett has ever uttered to you. The first words that, in your response, made you scream.

The stranger took a few steps back from you, even though he was already a couple feet away. His expression neutral as he held his hands up- an axe in one which definitely didn't help your nerves. He had a pair of snug jeans - who wears jeans in the summer?- and a wife beater. Wonderfully luscious hair and a trimmed beard.

While you were taking him in, he was doing the same for you. You had on a pair of shorts, hiking boots, t-shirt, and a cap. A backpack with a water bottle attached by a clip.

Your hair was all frizzy, sweat swathed your skin, and you looked like you were in a very bad mood.

You stared at him, wiping your brow, eyes full of judgement as you decide if this random stranger in the middle of the woods was safe or if you needed to give him a dose of the bear spray in your pocket.

He waited patiently for you to make your decision, becoming amused more and more by your silence. His eyes set on you, before finally speaking. "-I'm assuming you are, cause you're on my land."

Your frown dropped, eyes widening slightly as you looked around. "Your land?"

"Yeah."

Your eyes fell on the axe. "Can you drop that?"

"Alright."

He tossed it to the side, then show the palm of his hands to reaffirm that he wasn't armed. Well, that you're aware of. They fell to his side limply as he pressed his lips together. "So, you lost?"

"Maybe." You looked around taking in your surroundings, and potential escape routes. This guy maybe handsome but that doesn't mean he isn't a serial killer. It's always the handsome ones…. "I uh… I'm camping with some friends."

"Where'd you come from?"

You looked around again. Everything had looked the same to you in these woods. Surrounded by trees, thick vines covering some parts of the forest floor and wild flowers covering the rest. The air was humid, and the sun burned through the canopy. The buzzing of cicadas and crickets in your ears did not help in your irritation and added to the confusion and disorientation that you found yourself in.

"I'm not sure to be honest."

There was a hint of amusement in his expression, one that made you immediately defensive. "I'll figure it out." You held your chin high.

"You'll just keep getting more lost darling."

"Well that's my problem. I don't need help from a….Wild man in the woods."

He clicked his tongue, and shrugged. "Alright." as he turned away from you, bending down to grab his axe. "Good luck." He calls over his shoulder, axe swinging at his side as he took long strides down the makeshift trail that you accidentally came upon.

As he walked away, leaves and sticks crunching under his feet, you felt your anxiety boil over as your pride disappeared.

"Wait-" You called out, following him. He stopped, turning his head to glance at you. "I.…guess I could use a little help. As long as you promise you won't kill me and bury me around here."

He simply grinned, a tight lip cocky smile that you wanted to smack away- or kiss, you aren't really sure yet. He waved a hand at you to follow him, "C'mon, I got a cabin nearby."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm not sure why I let you convince me to do this."

"Because you love me and my irresistable good looks?"

You stopped mid-hike, a small sigh escaping you. "Yeah, okay, that's true."

He turned to look back at you, a cheeky grin before his hand reached out for yours. "C'mon darling."

You smiled, taking it and joining his side.

It's been a few years since you met this man in the woods. The same woods that you had inexplicably found yourself lost in at the same time. He brought you back to his cabin despite your wariness and vague threats about knowing self defense from the time you took a self-defense class (you only took one class)

Once Logan had brought you back to his cabin, he found you were much more agreeable- even something resembling someone sweet after you were in some cool air away from humidity and itchy bugs, and given a fresh-cooked meal.

He was the perfect gentleman- aside from occasionally teasing you about getting lost in the woods. Got you back to your friends- and asked for your number. Your fate with him was sealed then, you fell hard and fast.

Now it's your anniversary and he suggests a camping trip of all things to do to celebrate. The thing you swore off after the last time.

He just looked so cute when he told you the idea, you couldn't say no. Maybe this time it wouldn't be so bad. Logan was a regularly woodsman, being a lumberjack and all. A few days in nature, fishing, hiking, campfires, watching the stars with just each other.

Okay, maybe it would be worth the bug bites, the aching legs, and the sweat.

"What about here? This looks like a nice spot." You offered, pointing out a nice clear spot in the woods to set up a tent and a campfire, similar spot to you and your friends picked.

"I got an idea where we can go." He says squeezing your hand and urging you to keep following. You hum and let him take the lead.

He led you to a scenic spot that was next to a shallow river. It was gorgeous, in the distance the. snow- mountains painted against the blue skies. The river babbled, the water fresh and clear and you could see little minnows swimming their way downstream. The trees provided shade from the sun, while shaking gently in the wind- sending a feeling of peace through you.

"Good idea." You finally looked at him with a big smile. He smiled back, setting down the camping equipment he carried and his bag, while you set down your own backpack. Logan went to work in immediately putting the tent together- you offered a hand but he said he "got it", despite becoming increasingly frustrated.

Instead you focused on creating a campfire, collecting rocks, and sticks and creating a small space nearby the tent that Logan was currently cursing at. Since it was still fairly early in the day you waited to actually start a fire, instead opting to admire as your boyfriend resisted the urge to claw apart the tent that wouldn't cooperate. You sat in the grass and watched him with amusement, until you finally pushed yourself up from the ground and walked over to him.

"Baby." Your hand went to his arm. "Can I do something here?"

After being with Logan a few years, you learned a few things, and one is that the man is terrible about asking for help. Admittedly, you were the same way. You found that Logan accepted help more easily- if you just suggest for him to tell you what to do.

He paused, staring down at the tent like it insulted his character, before finally directing you and how you can help.

It took an hour- and some light-hearted bickering but the tent was finally up. There was something about it that looked odd to you- like something didn't go in the right spot, however you elected not to mention it.

Once your campsite was set up, you and Logan began to delve into the start of your anniversary trip.

He taught you how to fish- admittedly, you felt bad for the fish you did reel in, but it was a lot funner than you expected. The quiet was relaxing, which was great for you- even better for Logan.

At some point your turned to look at him, examining his thoughtful expression. He looked so at peace- you loved that. Yet a small voice inside you decided that it's been much too peaceful for him, for much too long.

You had taken your shoes and socks off, dipped your feet into the cold stream, water rushing past your ankles and giving you a chill that ran up your back as you shook your arms and shoulders. You waded around quietly, softly splashing water and admiring the clear stream rushing past, even spotting a few crawdads and watching them with fascination until Logans voice perked up.

"You're scaring the fish away."

You looked over. He had a fishing rod in hand, still focused on the red and white float in the distance. Brows creased in that familiar concentrated look he makes whenever he's getting distracted and trying to refocus.

You hummed, glancing down at the water before looking up back at him. An idea came across your head- and you leaned down, swiping your hand across the cool water and splashing it onto Logan.

You wished you had your camera to capture the look of surprise on his face. A few droplets trickled down his cheek before he finally blinked and looked at you. He was still for a moment- until he gently dropped the fishing rod into the sand, and stood up.

That simple action sent fear through you. You were frozen in place, until he took a step towards you.

A shriek echoed through the woods as you began to run through the water, Logan chasing after you. You could hear him approaching, the splash of his feet in the water growing louder as he gets closer. The kicker? He was barely jogging to catch up to you; which became more terrifying.

He reached you, arms wrapping around you and lifting you with ease over his shoulder before turning around and carrying you back while you screamed and playfully kicked to get out of his grasp- even though you actually didn't want that.

"You're gonna regret that darling." His voice full of warning- and a hint of amusement. "Shouldn't have ran off, wouldn't want you to get lost again would we?" He teased.

You made a mock gasp, wiggling on his shoulder until a hand came up to smack your butt.

"Ay!"

Later after Logan most certainly made you pay for your playful splashing, you changed your clothes into something dry, and sat by the campfire that was finally started, ready to settle in and read one of the books you packed- swearing to Logan that you will finally read at least one of them.

It was getting close to the evening, and Logan set off to explore the woods around your campsite for a bit leaving you in the quiet and not get distracted by the handsome lumberjack.

You were just falling deep into the plot of the book, your mind tuning out your surroundings and you were becoming absorbed by the setting until you felt a tap on your shoulder that made you jump- and scream, disturbing several birds that had cozied themselves in the trees around you flutter away.

You turned around, ready to hurl your book at your "attacker" only to be greeted by Logan looking at you which a cheeky grin.

"What is it with you and sneaking up on me?" You stammered, face becoming warm with embarrassment over your reaction.

"I just love to hear you scream." He teases in a low voice, an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

You smirked at the implication, hand gently smacking against his chest. "Well keep that up and you won't be hearing me scream again anytime soon."

He grinned, before pulling out his secret weapon- a bouquet of wild flowers. It was a rainbow of colors, both bright and pastel, a mix of coneflowers, fireweed, yarrow, asters, and vervain.

"This what you doing out in there wild man?" You laughed joyfully, irritation fading as you took the bouquet. "They're beautiful!"

"I picked the ones that reminded me of you." He says softly, plucking a stray piece of grass out of the bouquet. You leaned forward to take a sniff of the bouquet, the natural scent of the flowers filled you with an inner peace- and allergies, as you felt a tickle in your nose, quickly turning away to sneeze.

"Bless you." Logan chuckled taking the bouquet.

"Mm, thank you." You sniffled. "I love them. We need to find something to keep them in- I wanna bring them home- maybe can dry them and use them as decorations?"

"I'll find something." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "You get back to your book."

He wandered off to find an reliable object that could hold water and flowers for you, while you settled back into your cozy spot with your book. Within a few minutes Logan came back, settling by your side, before playfully dropping a bag of marshmallows in your lap. You lowered your book and then looked at him with surprise.

"I thought you didn't pack them!" You grinned. "You said- "marshmallows don't belong on camping trips" You imitated your boyfriends gruff voice, setting your book to the side to grab the baggie, opening it and popping a marshmallow into your mouth- immediately humming from the taste of the sugary fluffiness of the treat. "So good-"

"I'll grab some sticks." He says pushing himself up from the ground and beginning searching around the campsite for two suitable sticks to use to roast marshmallows. You ate another, before fully sitting up to watch him.

"You know what would make it even better?"

"Chocolate and graham crackers?"

You blinked at his answer- which was what you were going to say, until realization struck you. He looked over from your silence, and winked.

With your belly fully of smores, and your face warm from the campfire, you were content. Logan set out a blanket for you both to lie on and stargaze.

Logan had his arm stretched out for you to use as a pillow. For awhile, there was a content silence between you both until you caught him in the corner of your eye pointing to the sky.

"See that over there? The little clusters at the bottom, and then those three, and the ones kind angled away?"

You attempted to follow where his finger was pointing and you finally made the shape formed by the stars. "Yeah, I think I see what you're talking about."

"That's Orion, one of the constellations."

"You know your constellations?" You ask surprised "I didn't know that."

"Gotta keep you on your toes somehow darling." He grinned up at the night sky, before turning to look at you, his cheeky grin fading into something softer. "After living for so long, you pick up a few things."

"You definitely do…" You hummed, bringing the back of your hand to his cheek, gently stroking it as you became lost in his eyes. "So…What's Orion's story?"

He looked back up at the sky. "He was trying to win the heart of some goddess, fought anything and everything for it. Had to fight a scorpion and had a rough go of it." He looked back at you. "His girl wanted him in the stars, so she could see him every night."

You let out a small laugh. "You're such a storyteller."

"It's the gist."

"What about the other stars?"

You laid by his side, listening to the sound crickets and frogs croak, and Logan tell "abridged" or rather his own silly version of the constellations the different versions of all their stories that he could remember, then moving onto other stars and planets, pointing out the shiniest one to you.

"That ones Venus." He says.

"Closest planet to us, right?" You asked. He hummed in acknowledgement.

"If I remember right, she's the goddess of love."

"Is she?" Your voice perked up. "That's cute. You think she destined us together?"

Logan was silent, so you looked at him. He was looking at you, expression soft. "Maybe…" He says, "Divine intervention or not, I would have always found you."

You moved to curl into his side, tipping your head up to peck his lips, and another kiss to his chin, before moving to rest your head on his chest and closing your eyes as his arm came around you.

"Tell me more stories about the stars."

"I'm afraid I've run out of em."

"Make a new one up then…"

He chuckled, "Ah…" He looked in the sky, mind raking through stories he knew, so many he's heard- but he decided to tell one most familiar to him, his own. He looked at the sky, the stars twinkling as he thought about the day he met you.

"One time, there was a boy who was wild, lived in the Canadian Rockies, with a family of wolverines."

A small giggle escaped you, and you curled yourself further into his side, an arm wrapping his waist.

"One day he came across a lost swan. Right smack in the middle of the forests where he and his family lived. She was sad cause she couldn't find her way back to her home. This boy thought she was really pretty, but when he tried to approach her she lashed out- I mean, you know how swans are."

You smiled, resisting the urge to comment as he continued.

"And this kid- he's wild right? and stubborn. He managed to convince her to let him help, and she finally gives in because despite his wild nature hes good looking and charming."

He listened to your mirth, the way you shook against him as you tried to hide your laughter and stay quiet and let him tell his story. His hand brushed up and down your arm soothingly, tilting his head so his chin could rest atop your head.

"and this swan- she falls madly in love with this kid, like heads over heels- and it turns out the swan was actually a human girl- I think there's some kind of story about that somewhere- anyway, and she was gorgeous, most beautiful creature this kid ever seen. He wants to give her the world, offers anything and everything she wants. He asks if she wanted money, she said no, he asked if she wanted jewelry, she said no- he offered her everything he could think of- even saying he'd give her moon."

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. "What did she say?"

"She said no." He grinned. "She said, 'The only thing I want- is you'"

You smiled, glancing down at his lips before meeting his eyes. "Is that what she got?"

"Yeah. He said 'you got me, wholly and fully, every part of me. Good and bad, if you'll have it.'" His voice delved into a whisper, as if he didn't want the world to hear the ending, only you.

You reached your hand to cup his cheek, leaning up to kiss him where he pulled you in close, hands pressed against your hip until he rolled you on your back. After parting from the searing kiss, catching your breath, you smiled.

"I'm a little jealous of this swan chick."

"Don't be, this kid lives in the woods and stinks like hell."

Your laughter echoed through the trees as you pulled him closer, sharing another deep kiss as the night carried on.

When the sun began to peek through the horizon, Logan stirred at your side. You both fell asleep on the blanket instead of the tent. He was always the first to wake up, usually due to his job being an early start.

He admired your sleeping face, brushing some hair behind your ear. He carefully moved out of your embrace, sitting up and going to your tent, rummaging through one of his bags, a quiet curse seemed to have woken you up.

"Lo?"

"Hm" He shoved the bag back into the tent.

You yawned, sitting up with a big stretch and looking around. "You good?"

He let out a small breath. "Just fine darling. You hungry?"

The rest of the day went normal. Tonight will be your last night camping and in the morning will pick up and go back home to civilization. You and Logan continued on spending time together, enjoying the peaceful sounds of nature, walking along the river hand in hand. Logan seemed a bit off- distracted, but shrugged off any of your words of concern.

As evening began to approach, you wanted to settle down with your book again to read and make more progress on your chapters.

Except you couldn't find it.

You were digging all over the site. You were sure you left it on the blanket where you and Logan slept. You checked your bag, the tent, and the surrounding areas but there was no sign of it.

"Looking for this?"

You looked up as you were digging through your bag once more- to spot Logan standing off to the edge of the clearing, a neutral look on his expression. He held your book in the air, giving it a playful wave.

You scoffed, rolled your eyes and smiled. "Real funny Howlett." You began walking towards him, and he took a step back. You stopped- eyeing him suspiciously before taking another step. He stepped further away. "Okay-" Your tone took on some disbelief. "What are you doing?"

His expression remained neutral. "Nothing." He shrugged, but you could see it. The little edge of a smirk on the corner of his lips. The playful glint in his eyes that told you that you were about to become the victim of another one of Logan's games with you. The man just loved to play with your nerves.

"Logan." Your voice called out to him, warning, but a hint of amusement as you wondered where he was going to go with this. He didn't budge as you began to walk towards him again, but once you were a foot away- beginning to reach for the book he began retreating from you into the treeline. "Logan!"

You moved after him, and the faster you moved- the faster he moved. His facade broke, his lips breaking into a goofy grin as the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"Gonna have to catch me first darling." He taunts, before turning and bursting into a sprint. You gasped, but not stopping because the man was fast, and you needed to be quick on your feet.

"Logan Howlett!" You called after him, running through the trees and following the red flannel he had on. You began to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Thinking how your friends used to wonder if Logan was the right man for you.

'He always acts so serious' one would comment. If only they could see him now.

You began to loose track, losing direction when you had to stop for a moment nearly tripping on a rock and Logan had disappeared quickly. When you recovered you began to chase him again; Only you didn't know where he went.

"Oh no." You looked around. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Your hands came up to cover your face. "I'm never going to live this down."

Aside from the slightly terrifying revelation that you are lost in the words, the irony was not lost on you that it happened again, years later, on your anniversary where you first met Logan- while lost in the woods. You could just hear his relentless teasing now. Even though you could certainly pull the "you made me get lost in the woods" card on him.

You paused to take in your surroundings, looking for familiar landmarks to tell you which direction you came from. The ground was dry- there wasn't any footprints you could retrace, and everything looked the same to you.

"Logan!" You called out with caution. He'd probably be able to find you, with his keen sense of smell and hearing. You'd hope he'd read your tone, that you weren't playing now and genuinely needed him to come out of hiding.

You took a step one direction when you heard no reply- only to hear a creak behind you. Turning around with a gasp- expecting Logan to jump in your face with that cocky smile and some lighthearted tease about how you can't go anywhere without him- which was true at this point.

He wasn't there, but an urge told you to go in that direction anyway.

As you walked, you noticed little things- broken sticks, disturbed leaves and plants, and occasionally a footprint dug into the earth.

The direction you were going didn't feel right, but everything you found felt.…deliberate. There was something in your intuition that told you to keep going- especially once you smelled the deep, wooden, familiar scent of a freshly lit cigar.

It became unmistakable that Logan was pulling something purposeful. What exactly you weren't sure. Why was he leading you in a goose chase through the woods on your anniversary.

It was slowly getting darker- you could tell by the way the skys colors were beginning to change, the blue hue was turning darker and the air around the trees were beginning to shift. You started to worry that maybe your intuition was wrong and that you somehow managed to make yourself even more lost by chasing some imaginary trail you think your boyfriend set up.

At least, till you came across the roses.

It was a singular petal initially, bright red, standing out in the muted quiet colors of leaves and dirt. It caught your eye, as you leaned down to pick it up- feeling the soft velvety texture between your thumb and forefinger. Your eyes caught a flash of more color and looked up, seeing the scattered red petals across the forest floor.

You continued , following the trail as the petals grew heavier until it lead you to a small clearing- the clearing. was open, ending on a cliff that oversaw the river and vast forests. You could see the mountains in the distance, and can even spot your camp with Logan down below. "You lost, darling?"

You stopped, turning around to see Logan looking at you, hand in pocket, and a sly smile on his face.

"Lo…." You stared at him dumbfounded, until he stepped closer to you. Your heart began to beat faster as he came face to face. You finally found your words, smiling, "But you found me, didn't you?"

"I did." He says. "and I always will…" his hand went to cup her cheek. "No matter what. How lost you get, I'll always be there."

"Logan." You leaned into his touch. "What…"

" Although…Really I was the lost one. Till I found you." He says. His other hand came out of his pocket, revealing a small velvet box. You gasped at the sight, tears quickly filling your eyes. You hand came over your mouth as you stepped back. He smiled, slowly lowering down to one knee. The sight made you let out a shaky laugh as you tried to keep yourself together.

"Darling…" He looks up at you. "Been around a long time…met a lot of folks, seen a lot of things, been through a lot of things but you…" he reached for your hand, which you dropped to let him hold it. "You're a first."

That made you laugh for real. He grinned, eyes brimming with emotion you rarely see from him, that tough exterior cracking open for you.

"I don't think I'm a man who deserves you darling, but if you let me, for the rest of our lives, I want to take care of you, love you, the way you deserve. I'll give you everything you want"

He opened the box. Revealing the ring- something perfect for you. You recall seeing it ages ago at some shop you and Logan visited. A few tears escaped your eyes. He said your name, slow, like he was savoring the sound of it on his tongue, before he asked the final question.

"Will you marry me?"

He barely finished the question before you were saying yes, and jumping into his arms. Tears streaked down your cheeks, as you leaned your head back to meet his lips, firm , until you pulled away.

"I only want you, wild man." You whispered, before kissing him again. Once you finished pecking his lips, and all over his face, you both found your footing and he slipped the ring on your finger. You admired it, before beaming up at him, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. Then you looked around at the candles, "You planned all of this?" You asked. He nodded, brushing a hand this his hair, he held a bashful expression, cheeks tinted pink.

"Yeah, every bit."

"Even getting me lost?"

"Actually…" He clicked his tongue. "I uh…Didn't mean for that to happen."

You stared at him incredulously, before bursting into laughter. Stepping close to him to nuzzle his nose as small giggles continued to escape you.

"Well, good thing you'll always find me, huh?"

[heartfluttered]

— imprimatura

part 2 coming soon! series masterlist ♡ ao3 link.

pairing: worst!wolverine x f!reader. w.c: 3.7 k. tags: logan's POV. 18+. artist!reader. reader is coded to be neurodivergent. fluff & minor angst à la logan's self hatred. wade and logan bantering. crack premise taken a little too seriously.

summary: he's drawn to you the moment he meets you; the kind, endearingly honest painter who lives next door. logan agrees to model for you, but after a joke brings the nature of your relationship into question, he finds himself wondering if you feel the same way. conflicted as to whether he should cross the line between love and friendship, he confides in wade. things go as well as you'd expect.

“Thanks for agreeing to this,” you say as you lead him through the doors. “It means a lot to me.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” Logan assures, grinning unabashedly as your eyes flicker away.

There’s a certain shortness to your breath as you stammer: “You don’t have to call me that.”

He watches in satisfaction as you hurry onward, trying to hide your expression from him. It doesn’t matter, anyways. He knows exactly how flustered you look when he calls you things like sunshine, darling, sweetheart…

The art studio you’ve brought him into is a sweeping expanse, big enough to run laps in. Through the sheer curtains, creamy sunlight floods the room, melting the harsh shadows that stretch across the wooden floors.

As he reaches the far end of the room, you kneel before a square platform with a chair placed on the middle of it. He puts down the bags he’d insisted on carrying for you, and you arrange your supplies: small boxy crayons, a lump of something gray and pliable, and large sketchbooks with tawny beige paper.

“But really, thank you,” you continue, smiling down at the floor. “I couldn’t have asked anyone else to do this.”

He scoffs. “Anyone can sit still.”

“Not Wade."

“Good point.”

“Not everyone has a strong build, or high endurance,” you say, sharpening a pencil. “You know what your body can do.”

He raises an eyebrow, teases: “I know what my body can do?”

“Yeah,” you nod, not even looking his way as you carve the pointed lead. “You’re confident in knowing what you can hold, and for how long. That’s why I asked you."

Logan watches the wooden shavings spiral to the floor in limp ribbons. His eyes trace up to observe the smooth, slow gliding of your thumb against the cutter as you push it towards the leaden tip.

You know what your body can do. He can’t think of anything flirty to snap back with. Not when he knows you mean everything you say. All he can do is shake his head in quiet amusement, up to his throat in feelings he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

He closes his eyes. He tries to ground himself in the reality that this is just another one of your too friendly, too honest observations. Innocuous compliments aside, you’ve never shown any sign of liking him the way he’s liked you for the past six months.

That’s a good thing. You have no business getting your life ruined by a super–centenarian (bi-centenarian? Is that even a thing?) like him. Especially not when you’ve got a blossoming career and your whole damn life ahead of you.

You and him being anything other than friends is a pipe dream at best.

He chokes his feelings back, and it goes down his throat with the same smoothness of a ricocheting pinball machine. That is, not smoothly at all. It sits at the bottom of his stomach like a stone he can’t digest.

Ignoring the weight of it, he swings himself onto the elevated square.

“What now?” he smirks archingly, putting his hands on his hips. “Should I start stripping?”

Logan can’t help being smug, not when he can already imagine the embarrassed bite of your lip, the cute stuttered promises of pure intentions.

He surveys your face, waiting for you to get shy.

You don’t get shy.

A familiar neutrality washes over your features, with only the slightest beetling of your forehead betraying a deep contemplation.

He knows that look. Can practically hear the wheels turning in your head. He forces himself to smirk until it inevitably falls like plaster from a ceiling.

The realisation clicks into place:

You’re actually fuckin’ considering it.

Livid heat crawls up his neck, and his body tenses at his attempt to repress a shudder.

“I was joking,” he explains blandly, feeling sweat bead on his palms.

“Oh!” Your expression lifts as you laugh, carefree. And then, with the breeziness of someone talking about the weather, “I thought you were offering! You’d make for a very good model—”

He sucks in a breath.

Logan doesn’t hear anything past that. Spikes of heat sear his forehead, his cheeks. He can see your lips moving, but every sound in the room is rendered noiseless against the beating of his heart.

You’d make for a very good model.

It’s the context that he finds most flustering. Good model. Good (naked) model. Fuck, who says that so casually?

Are you making a pass on him? Are you implying he’d look good naked? Do you want to see him like that?

“Logan?”

Your voice shocks him back into clarity. Everything sharpens back into view, and he looks down to see your worried expression. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Logan chokes out, profoundly embarrassed by the racing rhythm of his heartbeat.

You’re biting your lip again. “Are you sure? You look…”

“Let’s just get started,” he grunts under his breath, turning to face the chair behind him. “What am I meant to do with this?”

He falls into the seat the moment you ask; digging his forearms against the armrests, feet pressing flat against the ground. It’s almost like he strapped himself into an electric chair, and now he’s waiting for death to claim him.

Good thing the chair is placed diagonally, as to not face you headfirst. He doesn’t know if he could sit still for more than a minute if you were looking him in the eye.

Hopefully it’ll be over with as soon as possible.

“This good?” he manages to grit out, adamantly staring at the wall.

You laugh softly in response. “You look like a kid in detention. Try to relax, you’re really stiff. Pretend I’m not even here.”

He does his best to relax, fully knowing that pretending you’re not here is impossible. He couldn’t miss you in a crowd if he tried.

“Let’s get started,” you announce, shifting to get comfortable in your seat.

You hunch over your big–ass sketchpad propped over the edge of your bench, and the moment your conte crayon touches the surface, it makes the same noise as when striking a match— a flame bursts alive, and the scratching of your paper echoes like a crackling campfire.

He doesn’t need to see you to feel your searing gaze pin–pricking his skin; piercing straight through him like grilling fork through a marshmallow. He’s ready to melt like a marshmallow too, under the intensity of your bright, burning eyes.

Your voice abruptly cuts through the silence. “Could you move your hand a little to the right?”

He grunts, complying with a jerk of his arm.

“Perfect! Thanks.”

Logan flexes his fingers. Clenches his hand, unclenches. There’s a brief pause, before you surprise him by speaking up again, “Did you sleep well last night?”

The question hangs in the air like a static dust mote until he realises you’re waiting for him to reply.

“…Aren’t I supposed to shut up?”

“It’s okay! I like talking to you, and I can still pay attention,” you say.

Clearly, he thinks, still feeling your incessant eyes trained on him. “Uh, ‘bout as well as I normally do.”

“As in, not at all?” you say with a knowing smile.

“Heh. Nope.”

The conversation goes on like this for a while. You ask him all sorts of questions: about his temp work with the TVA, whether he’s visited the new café around the block yet, how his week is going…

(It’s good, now that he’s with you. Doesn’t tell you that, though. Obviously.)

He doesn’t usually like small talk. It’s long, exhausting, and a useless waste of time.

But with you, it’s fun winding around topics, like taking the scenic route on a long road trip to nowhere in particular. There’s the occasional pause, but the red light always turns green again, and then the conversation’s flowing smoother than a highway.

It’s only when blinding sunlight bursts into being in the corner of his eye that he jolts back into reality. He winces, static dancing across his vision as he blinks. As he adjusts to avoid the light, he takes in the room around him.

Outside the window, the wobbling egg–yolk of a sun is already dipping past the horizon. All the bright buttery yellows has dimmed to embers, drowning the room in caramelised gold.

It’s sunset. Hours have passed, and he’s spent all of it adamantly avoiding your gaze by staring at the wall.

Was he doing that subconsciously? All because he made that embarrassing joke about getting naked?

He’s familiar with stares that linger on him too long; with deep, tunnel eyes bristling with hatred. They tell stories of grief; of losing family, lovers, children to the clawed monstrosity that prowled the streets, going down his never ending list of who to kill next.

A murderer. A fucking mutant.

The lives he destroyed, plainly laid out on the faces of everyone he walked past in the universe he left behind.

He’d always been too scared to look his sins in the eye.

He wonders what he’ll see in yours.

Fuck it. He tenses his jaw, swiftly turning to look at you for the first time in hours.

And his breath catches in his throat.

Honeyed light melts over you, softly gracing your body like a veil. There’s a slight lift to your eyebrows, a gentle upward quirk to your mouth. Where he expects hatred, he finds warmth instead. Even as your hand moves across the sketchpad, you keep your softened, studying eyes on him.

You’re looking at him like he’s the pretty one. Like he’s worth looking at.

And then, he catches the whisper under your breath:

“Beautiful.”

And it happens all at once; like you hit the brakes hard. Four words, and suddenly the world’s spinning in circles. He’s swerving, skidding out of control for a small eternity, trying to ground himself until everything stops with an unpleasant lurch, jolting him back into lucidity.

Static dances across his vision as he hears himself say, “…What?”

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

How he responds to that, he has no idea. He doesn’t even ask to see the drawings. Before he knows it, he’s helping you pack up your shit, and moving out the door with you.

Logan stares at his boots the entire way home, thoughts slurring into sludge. You’re probably talking about some show Wade made you watch, how he should totally try watching it too. At some point the echo of your distant voice clarifies, sharpening into coherent sound:

“Here we are! Thanks for today, Logan!”

Logan opens his eyes to your star white smile, and the rest of the world brightens with it. Completely unable to find his tongue, he nods jerkily by way of ‘good night’.

The moment your door closes, he careens through the door of Apartment 17 and crashes headfirst into the couch ship–wreck style.

“Fuck,” he groans, balling a trembling hand into a fist and grinding it against an eye socket. Sparks burst behind his eyelids; but it doesn’t even hold a candle to that smile of yours—burning and unforgettable.

His claws itch to explode past the skin of his knuckles. Every neuron in his body is blaring, and he needs to do something about it before he ruins the couch trying to make sense of every discombobulated thought ping–ponging in his skull.

“Fuck,” he says again for emphasis, realising what he has to do. Who he has to talk to.

With a profound sense of dread, Logan eyes the bedroom door. He can hear the barely-muffled blare of ‘Livin’ la Vida Loca’ as he trudges up to it.

Behind the door, vibrations of yet another Just Dance song ripple out beneath his feet; an omen of the fate awaiting him.

Logan lets himself sigh as he reaches for the doorknob. Here goes nothing.

“You offered to pose nude for her?!” Wade squawks, spraying bits of wet bread out his mouth in the process. Logan winces, already regretting his decision to confide in the annoying prick he reluctantly calls his best friend.

He hadn’t even gotten one sentence in before Wade scrambled to arrange a truly upsetting spread of single–wrapped cheeses, raw meats and ambiguous sauces on the dinner table. Apparently talking about crushes means it’s “Smorgasbord time, baby”, so really Logan doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

“Shut up.”

“Honestly,” Wade laughs in between bites of the sandwich he’s choking down. “Just ask if she wants to fuck next time like the rest of us! No need to beat around the bush.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan hisses, cheeks burning as he adamantly stares down at his lap. “I didn’t fuckin’ offer. It was a joke.”

“A joke,” he scoffs. “The last time I asked you to get me chorizo from the bodega, you flipped me off—”

“—Because you’re a dick, and I don’t owe you shit—”

“Yeah, exactly! You never offer to do anything for anyone, but guess who’s carrying her art supplies up to her apartment when the lift breaks down! Guess who makes a point of sitting next to her at every dinner party! Guess who’s down bad.

“It’s you,” Wade jabs a finger at Logan’s chest. “You’re down bad.”

“Still dunno what that means,” Logan protests, desperately clinging onto dignity in ignorance.

Wade continues: “I don’t think you were joking, peanut. I think way deep down, you wanted to pose nude for her.”

He laughs at that. “Yeah, uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Oh?”

“Nope,” Logan confirms flatly, slinging an arm behind his chair to get comfortable.

The merc–with–the–mouth hums, staring with a shuttered over expression. Logan hates that look on impact: like Wade knows something he doesn’t. So, Logan stubbornly holds Wade’s empty gaze, until he grows sick of the tension.

“What?” he finally snaps.

Wade speaks, sounding suspiciously casual: “Y’know, pretty much everyone in the friend group’s offered. Shatterstar, Colossus…”

“Offered what?”

“To model for her.”

“No shit. She’s an artist, she needs to draw from life, only natural—”

“No, no, no, I mean, that way. Naked.” Wade elaborates steadily.

“But has she? Drawn ‘em like…?” Logan falters mid–sentence.

“She’s even drawn me that way.”

Logan’s head jerks up at that. “Yeah, right.”

Wade raises a hand as if swearing the oath, looking dead serious. “Telling the truth, honey badger. Cross my heart and hope to die— she did. You can ask to see the drawings if you like.”

“No onewants to see that,” Logan retorts, feeling suddenly restless as he drums his fingers against his thigh.

“Shedid, though!” Wade shrugs, biting into his sandwich and shredding a slab of meat with his teeth. “She’s the one who drew me, after all. I think she liked it, too. Freaky–deaky, that girl.”

Logan inhales sharply, shoulders tensing as he does.

He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he reminds himself. He’s talking out of his ass, just like always.

“I offered as a joke. She didn’t even say anything; just started closing the blinds and setting up the stage without having to think twice.”

His fingernails dig crescents into his palms, drawing blood.

“I just went along with it, because hey, why not?” Wade shrugged. “I’ve always been into voyeurism, anyhow—”

It’s too late to restrain himself: a growl rumbles from his throat, and his claws spear out from his knuckles as he moves to stand—

Wade slams the table, pointing with all the grandiosity of Phoenix Wright. “Aha! I fuckin’ knew it! You’re jealous that anyone else could be her french girl!”

“Her what?” Logan asks through gritted teeth.

“Her french girl,” Wade repeats, like that explains anything. “You know, ‘paint me like one of your french girls?’”

“You lied,” he seethes, cheeks flaring hotter.

Wade groans dramatically, letting his head fall limply like a toddlers. “Of fucking ‘course I was lying! First of all, I’m not gonna offer a look of this smoking bod for free.”

Logan makes a noise from the back of his throat, and moves to brace his hands against the kitchen counter, if only to avoid looking in Wade’s direction.

“Second of all, do you really think anyone in the friend group’s gonna offer to sit naked as a jaybird for like, what, five hours while she just stares? Be for real— you’re the only person who wants to do that!”

“I don’t want to, I just—”

“Oooh, I’m Logan, and I’m super horny for the cute artist next door with the neurodivergent rizz!” Wade mocks, posing like Marilyn Monroe getting her dress blown up. “I’d totally strip naked and get on my knees for her if she asked~”

“Shut up!” Logan shouts over his shoulder, a feverish burn flooding his face. “God, you— fine. Fine!

“Let’s say in the off chance that this issomething that I want. That I don’t know how to ask her out, and thatthis—of all things—is just a way of coming up with the stupidest fucking reason for her to keep me in her life. So what?” he laughs humorlessly, raking a hand through his hair. “What’s it matter?

“Maybe I keep waiting for her to hate me and she just doesn’t, ‘cause finding redeemable qualities in people who don’t have any is her fucking superpower. Maybe she makes everyone she meets feel special and seen and comfortable, and she makes me feel like I make sense in her life, as her friend.

“And that’s more than I deserve, but then she looks at me like she sees someone better than what I am, and she… she called me…”

“Called you what?” Wade prompts, quieter than Logan thought he was capable.

“…She called me beautiful,” Logan murmurs under his breath, barely managing to choke the words out past the heavy rock lodged in his throat. “Which, pretty sure contradicts everything about my everything, but she told me I was like it was fact, so… what the fuck else am I supposed to do about this?”

A long pause settles. Logan curls his fingers in and out again, willing himself to come up with some sort of answer to his own question.

Finally, Wade cuts through the silence with a sigh. “You gotta ask her out, Logan.”

“Yeah,” he says, feeling exhausted. “Ain’t gonna, though. It’ll just make things weird.”

“Weirder than stripping naked in front of her?”

“Yeah, well,” Logan groans, deciding to busy his hands by grabbing a few slices of bread. “You know how she is. She’s friendly, too friendly, and I’m just tryna justify standing next to her.”

“You know, I wasn’t expecting this to get heavy. Like, at all,” Wade admits under his breath. “Thought this was just something I was gonna laugh at you about for the rest of your life, but it sounds like this is… uh…”

“Me neither. It’s making me stupid.”

“She’s not nice to you because she’s doing you a favour, though. You know that, right?” Wade points out bluntly. “She’s not even trying to be nice, really. She’s just honest.”

“Well, she’s got a warped view,” he retorts sharply, loading all the fillings within sight between his increasingly thick sandwich. “I shouldn’t be the one she’s making artwork of, the one she’s calling...”

Another pause. The rock plummets from his throat to the hollow cavern of his chest. It cracks open a space in his adamantium ribcage and the sound echoes and echoes and echoes.

A sudden clap resounds, loud enough to startle Logan out of his trance. A good half of the sandwich escapes his grasp in the process; a whole bunch of shredded lettuce spilling over his lap.

“Jesus—”

“Just offer again!” Wade suggests with a gleaming smile, sounding very proud of himself.

“Huh?” he asks abstractedly; absentmindedly gathering fistfuls of lettuce off the ground.

“Just offer to pose nude again! That way, she’ll get to see you naked, you’ll get to be naked in front of her, and—”

“No! Didn’t I establish it was a joke first fuckin’ thing?”

“Think about it!” Wade scrambles off the table, waving sauce–smeared hands enthusiastically as he explains. “She’s serious about it, you’re serious about it. She thinks you’re beautiful, and you got so grumpy over the thought of anyone else being naked in front of her that you almost went beast mode!”

“I don’t have a beast mode,” Logan says, massaging his temples in exhaustion. “There is no beast mode.”

Roundly ignoring him, Wade continues: “You’ll get to keep helping her out with her art, and the moment you take your clothes off, she’s gonna realise everything she’s been missing out on! You might even get to shake that thang!”

“Never say that again. I swear to god, I’ll kill you,” Logan says wearily. “I’ll kill you.”

Wade slaps his shoulder. “Sure you will, bud! Listen, I gotta go get Althea, but you got this. Just tell her you’re down for it— the moment you strip, she’ll be climbing you like a mountaineer, and that’s a Deadpool guarantee!”

Logan sighs, feeling a century older than he was twenty minutes ago. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“Everyone will call you Mount Logan the way you’re hard as a rock for her and fuckin’ huge.”

“Oh, God.”

“Canada's pride and joy, with the largest base of any non-volcanic mountain, and a peak that’s still rising by the minute!”

“Get out.”

“Thousands of climbers a year die falling down the crevices of your—”

“Get out!” Logan shouts, shoving Wade through the front doors.

Even as he slams the door shut, he can still hear Wade’s muffled yelling from the other side: “Seriously, I’ll be holding you to it! I’m giving you five days to ask her, or I will!”

Logan stares at the door blearily until the fog clouding his mind disperses just enough for him to understand what Wade was saying.

“Wait, what d’ya mean by that?” he asks aloud, palms suddenly slick with dread.

Panic seizes his heart as he impetuously swings the front door wide open. “Wade! What do you mean, you will?!”

The hallway was empty, the only response being the swinging of an overhead lamp. Logan stands under the scant yellow light, left breathing harshly in the aftermath with no small amount of panic beginning to boil and rise in his chest.

Shit.

part 2 coming soon! a/n: @eupheme made this lovely moodboard here!! thank you so much ♡♡ tagging @loganficsonly who asked to be on the taglist 2 months ago :'3c

[cigars-and-claws]

— Summer Nights

✲ Pairing: origins!Logan x fem!Reader ✲ Summary: Logan takes you on a drive-in movie date. You both enjoy the night so much you feel the need to thank him properly... ✲ Warnings/tags: SMUT. 18+, MDNI. Let's just say Reader and Logan are married and live their perfect little life in Canada as it always should have been. Established relationship. Fluff. Logan is a smitten sweetheart. Blow job. Semi public intercourse. Reader is a tease. ✲ Words: 2,7k ✲a/n: this is my entry for @lareinedulune amazing Wet, hot Logan summer ficathon! This was a real pleasure to write this prompt (cute drive-in movie date) suggested by the sweetest @tezooks! I really hope you'll like it!

"Don't make me wait, sweetheart,"

Logan is leaning against the door of his pickup truck, arms crossed. You walk out of your cabin, those four wooden walls that you both have built over the years and made your home, and down the porch to him. He looks at you, your outfit for the evening pleasing his eye, warming his heart, and bringing a small smile to his face.

"You brought some snacks?"

"Of course I did, who do you think I am?" His smile turns into a smug grin, the one that always made your knees feel weak, no matter how many times you have witnessed it already. "All your favorites. Caramel popcorn, salty chips and-"

"And dark chocolate?" You cut him before he could continue, your hands settling on his chest, covered by one of his countless flannels. Tonight he went for a brown one.

"And dark chocolate bars." He repeats affirmatively, with the proud look of someone who has just proven himself right.

"You're the perfect husband." You lean against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, almost from habit. Still, it all felt surreal to him. You, your home, your marriage, just the simple, mundane fact of going on a damn drive-in date on a cool summer night. Like the sky is all the more beautiful after years darkened by storms, your presence by his side is all the more brilliant because of the distant twists and turns of his painful past.

"Am I now?" He teases, eyes half-lidded, but pupils shining with this adoring stare as they linked with yours. "You have pretty low standards, darlin'."

"The lowest."

He exhales through his nose in an amused huff before flattening one of his palms on your back, gently pulling you in. You let him submerge you in a tender kiss. His thin lips press and caress yours, carrying a hundred love words and promises in their amorous touch Logan could have never admitted out loud.

The moment you bring your tongue in, you hear and feel him sigh. His arms around you are suddenly holding you tighter, his muscles tensed, a repressed energy that you can feel through his body.

"We should stop right there, or we're never going to be on time for that movie." He whispers against your mouth, lips stretched in a smile.

"As you wish, Mister Howlett." With a mischievous grin of your own, you let go of him. You walk around his truck to sit on the passenger seat, and he takes his own place, a lovestruck expression still lingering on his face.

He drives with just one hand on the wheel. The air is fresh through your open window, the scenery passing by before your eyes. His left arm rests casually on the sill of his own window. You always loved his truck from the very first moment. The ubiquitous leather smell, the scattered rock albums, lighters and matches between the seats, and a stack of cigars in the glove box. You can't help but notice all the little things he had added over time after you came into his life: your favorite candies, a few new albums he would never have listened to before, sunglasses (that crazy man never wore them while driving), a few sticks of your favorite lip balms...

Time passes quietly as a feeling of fulfillment and tranquility fills you both. A few words are exchanged, but most of the time the truck is filled with a comfortable silence, the kind between two people who know each other so well after all this time, occasionally completed by your favorite songs.

Finally arriving, Logan reverses into a parking space so that the rear of the pickup truck faces the giant movie screen. The comforting scent of popcorn and fresh grass pleasantly fills the atmosphere. The warm rays of the sun begin to vanish from the paint of the sky, and he catches you shivering as you prepare your little spot. He sighs fondly and adds his jean jacket on top of the pile of supplies he is unloading from the inside. "Here," he simply states without even waiting for you to ask anything, handing it to you as his other arm contains the abundance of food, cushions, blankets, and beverages that he had prepared especially for this evening. You thank him with a little peck on his cheek, the beginning of his beard there slightly tickling you.

The warm feeling of the fleece inside his jack along with his scent surrounds you in a pleasant and homey feeling as you finish to set up your perfect cozy corner. Layers of blanket and cushions, a thermos of your favorite beverage, a few beers for him, the mountain of snacks you can't wait to open. As you settle comfortably at the back of the trunk, your back propped up on a tartan cushion, you watch Logan busy himself with something instead of joining you.

"What are you doing?"

"Wait- Close your eyes, you're gonna love it."

You do as he tells, still raising your eyebrows. You hear him turning around the vehicle, a few swears from him that make you chuckle as something probably not working, then finally, a plug that connects inside the pickup. "Alright, open them, beautiful."

You execute, eyelids opening slowly, heart full of curiosity. You're met with a tray of light sparkling like fireflies all around you. With the sunset behind the movie screen and those shining little stars, it's almost magical. You can't suppress the biggest smile that brightens your face. He can almost feel and smell how happy this is making you, and that precious and odd feeling of love and happiness that was so specific to those moments between the two of you washes over him like a fresh, pleasant, relieving rain in the desert after years of drought. Oh, how strange. A few years back, he could never have even dared to imagine experiencing those sorts of things with someone he loved so dearly.

"You like it?" He asks even though it's obvious for all those reasons you really do, "Found those string lights the other day at the store, I thought you'd like them."

"You're kidding? It's perfect, honey!" You burst with joy and open your arms for him to finally join you. "Come here!"

He happily complies, crinkles of joy and pride on the corners of his eyes. He jumps in the truck bed and sits against you. He lets you pamper his skin with kisses, not for too long, before sitting up and placing you on his chest. It was always like that with him. He would wrap you in his strong arms, hold you close at night, regardless of his own state of mind, regardless of whether he was the one who was afraid, sad, or anything else. A semblance of control, a protective touch —not a deadly one for once.

The film starts, and the whispers of the other spectators around you fade away. You snuggle up a little closer to him, both of you lying comfortably. He opens the bag of chips for you and a beer for himself. The film starts, a western featuring Clint Eastwood that you both already knew but couldn't be happier to watch again under the thick blanket plaid. Time seems to stand still in your little bubble of happiness.

Silence in it isn't a constant. Sometimes, Logan would joke about how badly the film portrayed the reality of this era, and you would listen, happy to hear him confiding in you about his past and everything he has experienced. Then you would talk about your favorite movies and actors, often asking if he was there when they came out, back then. You were so eager for those specific little details, he was happy to ramble each time. In the end, it was more like two hours of talking and making private jokes known to the two of you with hushed chuckles than an in-depth study of the film.

"You know, I always had a little crush on Clint Eastwood in those spaghetti western films."

"Really, uh?"

"I mean, you know I have something for tall, dark-haired men with hazel eyes and a badly cut beard…"

"What do you mean badly cut?" He asks in a false threat, turning his head down to look at you.

"Nothing darlin'."

"No no, you're not escaping this that easily." He makes you roll over him, and just like that, you're straddling his lap.

Having him under you is always a sight to behold. His huge, hard body is impressive to ride. His eyebrows are raised in this interrogative way, letting you know he's

"You know... Maybe I should thank you for preparing all this…" You start, voice very clear about your intentions. Taking support on his solid shoulders, you slowly roll your hips against his, your core rubbing against his jeans.

He's reacting almost immediately, hands flying to your hips, guilty grin on his cocky face, hard bulge forming between his legs that you can feel as you continue your languorous motions.

"You really wanna do this right now, baby?" He whispers, trying to keep his voice down and controlled. This was a very hard task considering how your cunt was grinding against his clothed erection perfectly, and he was slowly but surely starting to lose his composure. "Right here, in th'middle of all those people?"

"Don't worry, nobody will see…" You assure him. You press yourself in a last slow move that almost draws a sound out of him, but makes his own hips buck up. You grin in triumph.

"You naughty, naughty girl…" He rasps, his eyes stuck on the vision of you crawling backward, head going down closer to his crotch, chest against his thighs.

"Am I now? You're not exactly complaining, from what I can see…"

He snorts in an amused way as all answer, and places his arms under his neck in a casual position, looking like the most content man on the planet.

After pulling up his flannel and the white shirt he's wearing underneath it, discovering his navel, your hands fumble with his large belt, and open his jeans just enough so you can fish out his cock. After years of common life, the vision still makes your mouth salivate and your blood rush in your own body. Giving him everything without taking care of yourself is also going to be a whole challenge.

"Just, don't make too much noise and look normal, okay?" You try and warn him, but he shushes you with an overconfident sound.

After all he isn't a virgin teenage boy anymore; and he has seen more in all those years of living. This is going to be a piece of cake, he can easily remain silent without any worries-

"Oh!" A deep sound escapes his throat the moment you wrap your lips around him. He instanly pulls the blanket a bit more on top of your head, trying to hide you a bit better from any curious gazes you could receive. Fuck, this wasn't going to be easy at all. He's pissed, but so turned on he should be ashamed of it. "Shit, baby."

You don't stop and take your time to feel him completely into your mouth, all large and big he is, before slowly moving all the way up to his cockhead. There, you smudge his precum with a few kisses, and lick teasingly that pink tip as if he were a damn treat.

Above you, Logan is a complete mess. There's something so depraved about having you go down on him in such a place, the film continuing, the people so unaware all around you. So oblivious to the absolute filth you're making to him. Just like before at your place, you feel his body tensing, hard this time. You know he's doing his best to keep his facade and stay quiet, but his breathing is way deeper and heavier, his skin is getting hot and almost sweaty. You're playing him like a slow, private melody only the luckiest people could listen to, the perfect way to drive him crazy.

"Baby- jus' do it"

"Do what?" You provoke him once more, now very mischievous about how cocky he had been all night with you. You gently press a sloppy kiss on his tip again, opening your mouth just enough to suckle at it.

You feel one of his hands falling on your head through the plaid, unable not to touch you. You can't see it, but you're convinced his smug expression is long gone now. His urgent and commanding voice confirms it to you.

"C'mon woman- stop fucking with me," He rasps through gritted teeth, applying a slight push on the back of your head with his hand. Never forcing you, never. But damn it, you are making him lose all sense of control and he knows you're fucking proud of it.

"Then don't make any noise." You simply order before finally going for it, and he swears his heart makes the same jump as if he were in a damn plane.

You open your lips completely and take him fully, before starting to suck him off good and proper, up and down, at a slow but steady rhythm. To say that Logan felt tortured trying to stifle his groans is an understatement. The pressure on him is almost painful. It's as if he's trying to compensate by any means possible—his cheeks turning bright red, his muscles covered with veins, a rather prominent one on his forehead, his legs twitching nervously as he tries desperately to shake off these intense sensations. And his ego is so bruised with how easy it is for you to put him in such a state, but the wet and hot sensation of your throat swallowing him again and again is making his mind go blank of everything else. Soon, there's no western movie, no other people, no fresh summer nights around the two of you -just his cock buried in your velvetty mouth and Lord, he could die happily right now.

"Yeah, go on baby, jus'like that-" His voice is barely a strangled vibration, his free hand hopelessly holds the side of the truck, his grip on the verge of damaging it.

And this time you listen to him, because all you want is to push him to that edge, to please him right now just how he's been pleasing you again and again as your husband. You wrap your lips the most the you can around his shaft and pick up the pace, earning another big twitch from his body and an urgent moan he couldn't keep to himself.

"O-oh!" He closes his eyes and lets his head fall backward. You don't stop, all the contrary, you keep your unfaltering rhythm steady, no matter the pain starting to burn in your neck. "Baby!" He rasps, almost angry he can't show you just how good you're making him feel.

He's trying to hold his grunts back the best he can but it's too much for a simple man, even all mighty and powerful he is. His grunts are louder, his grip on your head tighter, almost shoving you against his crotch, his hips jerking on their own to fuck your throat and find the release he so desperately needs. You sigh and keep going, your nose pressed against his skin, his dark curly hairs tickling it. His intoxicating scent abuses your nostrils, strong and musky and so him. His jeans fabric feels coarse under you, and it's way too hot under that blanket and his jacket you're still wearing, you need air, but he's so close, and you're so full of him, so close it's impossible for you nor him to stop right here. It would have been like jumping straight to Hell in front of Heaven's Gates. His cock twitches and hardens as you feel its veins gorging, warning you about the imminent climax he's finally about to reach. His grunts flow freely now; everybody the cars around you must be very aware of what's going on at this point. But fuck it, he needs it, and you're not stopping, taking him in and out, in and out, and finally he comes with a growl.

"F-fuck! Ahh" He lets out, mouth parted, eyebrows crunched in a beautiful expression of pure sexual pleasure. All notion of discretion has vanished from him now, like a single drop of water evaporating instantly on red-hot iron. His orgasm hit him so hard, as if amplified by his previous restriction, just like a dam behind which water accumulates again and again; and eventually bursts forth in a spectacular explosion of uncontrollable streams.

His pulsing cock softens after painting your inside white, his hot cum as warm and salty as his skin. The dam waters flowing slowly and freely after so many restrictions. You carefully swallow, before opening your enchanting lips and letting go of him. He slips his hands, reddened from how hard he had gripped, under the plaid and shoves himself back carelessly in his underwear before reaching for your cheek.

He gently lifts the fabric off you. You breathe in the coolness of the dark night, emerging from the sea.

There's a few seconds of just you two looking at each other. His hair is disheveled, a few long locks falling beautifully on his forehead. You also catch drops of sweat and a few remaining veins on the skin of his chest his flannel isn't covering. He looks so good in those moments after sex, so wrecked and free, deep breath slowing back to normal like the waves after a storm.

"You're so pretty." His words are really hushed this time. The lights from the screen projecting the movie you both had forgotten about, and the fairy lights reflect in his eyes, creating the most adoring look you had ever seen a man display. He softly wipes your swollen lips before petting your hair.

"Could say the same about you." You chuckle, taking your place back next to him against the cushions. "Pretty, but noisy…"

"Shu'up and focus back on that film, would you?" He smiles, snaking an arm around you. You rest your head on his torso. He passes his free hands through his hair, combing back the unruly locks. "I like this kind of thanks, though. Could use some again in the future."

"Keep on bringing me on dates then."

He laughs with a genuine cackle. "I could never stop." With a more serious tone, he turns his head and kisses the top of your hair. "Love ya."

"Love you too."

On the big screen, Clint Eastwood shoots the bad guy down. Neither of you couldn't care less. No matter the film, the restaurant, how shitty, how grandiloquent, the landscape, pretty or horrible, if it's at your place, at the sea, in the forest, on a creepy alley or a beautiful town, all alone or with a thousand people around —in the end, it's always, always just the two of you.

[lareinedulune]

Wet Hot Logan Ficathon Master List

Thank you everyone who participated in the Wet Hot Logan Summer Ficathon! It was a roaring success. Readers, please be kind and comment on/reblog the tales if you enjoyed them. It's super important to give love back to the authors who put their heart and soul into their fics!

Here's our Master List: On the Tip of My Tongue by @sleepywolverine

Refraction by @lareinedulune

Deals With the Devil by @themareverine

Lighting Up the Night by @rosenclaws

Come Here, Beautiful by @thevoicefromanotherworld

A Quick Dip by @unlikeable-female-character

You Lost, Darling? by @lostinlovingrevery

The Light Between Us by @lubdubology

Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini by @princessanglophile

*fic pending* @tezooks

The Wolverine's Retreat by @best-wolverine-22

Drenched To the Bone by @loganficsonly

Cruel Summer by @mcrdvcks

Cabin Fever by @damimami1994

Untitled Bikini Fic by @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

Summer Nights by @cigars-and-claws

[sleepywolverine]

Logan x reader loss of virginity? 👀

☕️ dirty thoughts ☕️

Pairing: Trilogy!Logan x Mutant!Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit Length: 2.3K Tags: smut, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v (mentions of taking plan b afterwards, but still WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), kinda sweet, pretty hot

Read on AO3

The moment that you first met Logan, you immediately felt some sort of strange pull to him. Despite his gruff exterior and the fact that he almost always smelled of cigar smoke, you couldn’t shake the attraction you were feeling.

And GOD, was it hard to keep your mind from delving into inappropriate territory.

Whenever Charles and/or Jean was nearby, you carefully attempted to shove any dirty fantasies involving the Wolverine to the back of your mind out of paranoia. When you were alone, however, your thoughts ran free, especially at night in your bedroom. You had a silent vibrator to help you out, but it still wasn’t him.

It probably wasn’t even close to his actual size, you thought. There was likely a big difference between getting yourself off with a toy like this while thinking about Logan and actually having sex with him. After all, there was a big difference between driving a go-cart on a track and driving a real car on the road, too. One could make that assumption without experiencing the real deal.

But you wanted the real deal. Oh, you craved it.

You just had no clue that your chance was going to come sooner rather than later.

It was early morning. You were in the kitchen brewing yourself a cup of coffee when you heard the familiar grumbles nearby. You turned your head to see a hot, sweaty, and shirtless Logan making his way over.

“Someone’s up early,” he remarked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied. It was true; some very detailed visions of him pounding into your wet, tight pussy had refused to exit your brain last night, making dozing off near impossible, and this situation was taking you back there.

Logan leaned against the refrigerator. “Why’s that, darlin’?”

You turned your head away, hoping to hide the developing pink tint on your cheeks. “No particular reason,” you fibbed.

He scoffed. “You’re a bad liar, sweetheart.”

“My brain just wouldn’t calm down for the night.” Technically true.

Logan cocked an eyebrow at you, his hazel eyes watching you closely. “Got somethin’ on your mind?” he asked, his tone holding a hint of amusement but also holding something else… a rare gentleness, a slight… fondness?

“It’s nothing, really,” you muttered as you poured your coffee.

“Uh huh. I’m gonna call bullshit.” The look in Logan’s eyes said, ‘Try again.'

You felt an aggressive flutter in your stomach, cursing your body for the way it was reacting to him as you carefully picked up your coffee mug and took a sip of the warm, brown liquid.

Without even looking back up at him, you knew Logan was narrowing his eyes at you. When you looked up, he’d gotten quite a bit closer to you.

“You alright?” His voice was a soft rumble as he looked down at you.

You bit your lip, quickly yet gently setting your coffee back down on the counter as you locked eyes. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to keep dodging his questions.

“You can’t fool me, darlin’. I can see right through you,” he smirked, leaning in even closer to you. “What’s got you all flustered?”

“You.” It came out as a soft, embarrassed squeal that you hadn’t even meant to make. You just couldn’t keep it in any longer. It was painful enough to hide it. However, now you knew you’d have to face his reaction to your confession.

Logan’s gaze darkened slightly at your response, closing the distance between the two of you, your bodies rather close together.

“Me, huh? And why’s that?” He asked, his voice low and rough, causing a shiver to run down your spine and a bit of heat to involuntarily shoot between your thighs. Your hands at your side were practically itching to touch his bare, hairy chest, but you held back.

“J-just…” You stuttered nervously, your heart going a mile a minute in your chest.

Logan gazed down at you for a moment, his eyes roaming over your body before meeting yours again. If that wasn’t a clear indication of what was going through his head, you didn’t know what was.

So you just didn’t hold back anymore.

“I just… I can’t stop thinking about you, okay?” You blurted out. “It’s messing me up. I can’t focus, I can’t sleep, and I can’t do anything without thinking something I shouldn’t about you!”

Logan pressed you against his body, his hands finding your hips in a possessive but not uncomfortable grip.

“That right?” He practically purred. “You’ve been thinkin’ about me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You almost whimpered. “Want you, Logan.”

His grip on your hips tightened slightly, the desire in his eyes evident.

“That right?” He murmured, his hands shifting to your ass. “You want me? Tell me what you want.”

You could feel yourself trembling nervously; it happened often when you were in a new situation that you wanted to be in but were still anxious about the outcome.

“I want to go to bed with you… please.” You somehow managed to say.

Logan tilted your head up.

“You wanna go to bed with me, huh?” You could feel his growing bulge press against you. “Want me to make you mine?”

You nodded hastily, not trusting yourself to say anything else without being more awkward than you already were.

Not that Logan seemed to care.

The next moment, you found yourself in the arms of a very possessive and very turned on Wolverine, who began to carry you up to his room.

When the two of you arrived, Logan kicked the door shut before plopping you down onto the bed with a low growl, only turning away for a moment to properly lock the door.

“No turning back on me now, darlin’,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he strode to the foot of the bed, his eyes raking over your curves. “You’re mine now.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been wetter when he called you his. This was really happening. It wasn’t just a fantasy anymore. You were in Logan’s bed. He wanted you.

And you NEEDED him.

You looked him in the eye, not saying a word but feeling your body fully submit to the man before you, the man you craved with every fiber of your being.

Logan, sensing your lingering nerves, sat down on the edge of the bed, his hazel eyes gently looking into yours.

“You’re alright,” he gently reassured you, a stark contrast from his previous possessive demeanor. You felt his rough, calloused hand brush against your cheek as some gesture of comfort. “You’re safe with me, you got that?”

“I’ve never done this before,” you blurted out, the words finally surfacing from the sea of nerves and desire.

Logan’s eyebrow raised in slight surprise at your admission, but he didn’t seem upset at all.

“You’re a virgin?” He asked as confirmation, his tone blunt but not unkind.

“That’s not a problem, is it?” The nerves just wouldn’t go away.

Logan shook his head. “No, it’s not a problem.” He reached out to tilt your head up. “But are you sure you want this?”

“I—I want this!” You replied. “I think about it all the time…”

A cocky smirk spread across Logan’s face, his eyes glinting with possessiveness and lust. “You’ve thought about me taking you, huh?” He growled as he pulled you into his lap, guiding you to straddle him.

Your mind flashed back to memories of nights spent playing with yourself, imagining your toy was Logan while your free hand caressed and fondled your erect nipples…

“Yes,” you almost moaned in response, feeling Logan’s bulge press against your needy clothed pussy.

Logan let out a soft groan in response as you wriggled a bit in his lap, feeling your wetness through his jeans. His hands moved up to your ass as he ground you against his trapped erection.

“Fuck, you’re soaking through already,” he growled as he pushed your shirt up and off your torso, leaving you in just your bra and pants.

“Logan!” You whimpered. God, you sounded so needy. To your ears, you sounded almost pathetic, begging for a man to take your virginity like this.

“You look so damn pretty on my lap, sweetheart,” Logan murmured as he unclasped your bra, tossing it on the floor before his hands went to cup your breasts. “So beautiful.”

You felt yourself grind up against him a bit, the sensation only making you feel more and more aroused. You were extremely aware of your sopping cunt’s emptiness, and you were only becoming more desperate for anything Logan could give you.

Logan growled softly, watching you hump him with hungry eyes. “Want something, darlin’?”

Your eyes locked onto his lips for a moment, not saying a word, and before you even realized you were leaning in, you were under him, kissing passionately as you kept grinding against each other, both of you reveling in the delicious friction.

After what felt like several minutes, Logan broke the kiss, looking down at you beneath him. “You want more, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, still a bit out of breath.

Logan smirked, a familiar cocky look in his hazel eyes. “Attagirl,” he murmured, unbuttoning your pants. “So damn needy…”

Once your pants were off, you felt Logan’s fingers right where you needed them, causing a moan to escape you.

“Damn, darlin’,” Logan groaned as his hand pulled the front of your panties down, a finger fondling your puffy clit.

“Loooogan…” you heard yourself groan.

Logan growled possessively at the way you said his name, his fingers sliding between your folds. “You want me, sweetheart?” He murmured, collecting your slick on his fingertips. “Want me inside you?”

“Yes!” You nearly cried out. “Need it hard…”

Logan pulled his hand out of your underwear, leaving your needy pussy unsatisfied and aching and so fucking empty.

“Sure you can handle it, sweetheart? It’s your first time, and I’m a big fella,” he teased, getting up off the bed to unbuckle his belt and start pushing down his jeans.

“Please…” you whimpered.

Logan’s eyes darkened as he freed his aching cock from his jeans. And damn, was he big.

“Last chance to back out,” he groaned, wrapping a hand around his hard member and giving it a few good strokes.

You leaned back into the pillows, making yourself comfortable and spreading your legs, giving him a small, inviting smile. It was kind of endearing how he wanted to be absolutely sure that you were comfortable and ready for this. And you were.

And you were about to experience what you’d been longing for for so long.

Logan growled as he got back on the bed, kneeling between your legs as he guided the head of his dick to your entrance.

“Ready?”

You nodded.

And with that, he pushed inside, moaning a bit as you enveloped him, sliding deeper into you inch by inch.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart…” he groaned, pulling back a bit before slamming back into you.

“LOGAN!” You cried out, gripping the sheets. God, this was way better than any toy. He just felt so good… You needed more…

“That’s right, baby,” Logan grunted as he started to pick up the pace, his hips snapping forward and driving himself deeper into you. “You look so pretty taking my cock. Like how I feel?”

“Yeeeesssss… so good…” You moaned loudly.

Logan’s grip on your thighs tightened as he started thrusting into you even harder. His eyes were locked on your face as he fucked you relentlessly.

“So damn tight,” he almost snarled.

“D-don’t stop!”

You didn’t think he could go any faster.

You were wrong.

It was a clear fact that no one should underestimate the Wolverine in a fight, especially not with his adamantium claws. Well, the same went for in the bedroom, and you were learning that firsthand.

“You’re mine,” Logan growled lowly. “You hear me? You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

“I’m yours!” You could feel yourself getting close already. It usually wasn’t this quick when you worked yourself.

Logan’s eyes darkened. “Good girl,” he growled possessively. “You gonna come for me?”

“Mmmm… mhm…” you whimpered.

Logan growled huskily as he kept pounding into you. “You’re so close, baby. Come for me,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

“Just… another…” you panted before it finally hit you, coming with a loud, long moan.

Logan gritted his teeth as he felt you clench and spasm around him, letting out a downright feral growl. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Squeezing me so hard, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Logan!” You squealed, practically drunk on his cock, your mind feeling a bit fuzzy still.

“Gonna let me fill you up, baby?” Logan asked, throbbing inside you.

“Y-yeah…” You panted.

He couldn’t hold it in after that. With a low, rough snarl, Logan came deep inside you, his head falling back a bit.

Meanwhile, you didn’t feel like you were able to move. Not after that.

Logan slowly pulled out of you before lying at your side, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.

You snuggled like that for a moment before you gently spoke up.

“Logan?”

He locked eyes with you, a warmth in his hazel irises. “Yeah, darlin’?” He asked almost tenderly.

You took a breath. “I think I’m gonna need Plan B.” You admitted.

Logan’s eyes widened a bit. “You’re not on birth control?”

You shook your head, an anxious look in your eyes.

Logan’s gaze softened, letting out a soft sigh. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’ll get you something.”

“You will?” You asked softly.

The feral man gave her a soft smile, caressing your cheek with his hand. “Course I will, darlin’. You’re mine now.

“And I always take care of what’s mine.”

[anundyingfidelity]

me and the logan hoes 😭

[dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Sorry I missed this somehow.

This is so good and what I was looking for. Thank you! ❤️

A Quick Dip

here is my entry for the Wet Hot Logan Summer Ficathon!

I was given a prompt from @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes and it was Logan and you in a cabin/hotel/wherever. Both covered in sweat one summer night, full moon, and even the shower water cannot be cooled, but you two are near a beach/lake/similar

For The Wolverine/Ronin/Mountain Man Logan.

Was quite excited about this as there aren't many fics for this particularly (or these?) version of Logan and that's a shame. I knew, however, that I could never do justice to a Logan in Japan story so chose to base this one around Mountain Man Logan. He might only appear at the start of the film but he makes an impact.

word count: 2741

warnings: smut, fondling, nudity, unprotected p in v

***

You’d seen the man in town a few times. Whispers and rumours followed him and you confessed that you were more fascinated by him than you should be. He lived up in the mountains ‘somewhere’ no one was really sure. His long tangled hair and unkempt beard coupled with his almost permanent scowl should have made him a person to avoid, but when you’d heard him speak he was quieter than you’d imagined he’d be, blunt but generally polite. He radiated a general air of ‘if you don’t fuck with me I won’t fuck with you’ and that seemed to suit everyone. His name, you were told, was Logan and he had ‘abilities’. No one would elaborate on what those ‘abilities’ were.

You’d moved, at least temporarily, into a cabin owned by an uncle, nestled away on a mountain road. Not totally isolated but far enough away to give you the peace you needed. It was a short drive into town and an even shorter walk to the sparkling lake in which you’d taken any number of bracing swims. The first time you’d encountered Logan close up was when he had walked up to the cabin one day and knocked at the door. He’d come to warn you about the start of hunting season and how the combination of men, beer and guns wasn’t always the best. Maybe a woman by herself should find a room in town for the duration. You thanked him for his concern but for now you’d stay put. Why should a bunch of drunken yahoos drive you from YOUR home? Logan didn’t argue, he’d delivered his message and what you did with that was your business. ‘I’ll be around though,’ he said quietly, ‘keep an eye on things’ and stalked off ‘Thanks,’ you called to his retreating back.

For some reason you couldn’t quite pin point the idea of Logan keeping an ‘eye on things’ didn’t feel creepy and intrusive. You felt safe. You spotted him occasionally, and if you did you gave him a friendly wave. It took a few times before he waved back. Or rather briefly raised his hand before disappearing into the trees.

As time went on, he would come and spend more time with you. He reminded you of a stray cat, one you would not ignore as such but just leave to his own devices, not push him, not try and force anything until finally he was there and you both acted like it had always been that way. He didn’t say much, just listened while you chattered on. At one point you started to come back from your job in town to find previously broken things fixed. Logan never asked, just saw a need and did. You would thank him the next time you saw him, and he’d nod in acknowledgment, refusing any payment or gratuity for his work.

Eventually you managed to persuade him that he didn’t have to do it all for nothing. Which was how you found yourselves on your porch, you on the swing chair, him sat on the steps, enjoying the comfortable silence of the late afternoon. He’d fixed some loose shingles on the roof for you for the low, low price of a cold beer and a sandwich, the empty plate and bottle on the boards next to him.

He had shed his usual heavy coat and was sat just in a pair of grubby jeans and a white tank top, his hair caught back in one of your hair ties, much to his chagrin. You laughed as he grumbled and told him to stop complaining and wasn’t it better to not have his hair in his face while he worked in the heat. The weather had taken an extremely warm turn, hot and sticky and humid. There was little to no breeze and moving at all just made you feel sweaty and tired. There was a sheen of sweat on Logan’s arms and the bit of his chest you could see. You felt guilty for looking but, well, you were only human. There was nothing even vaguely resembling air conditioning in the cabin and you were suffering for the lack of it. Logan snorted. ‘You’ve got a window don’t you?’ You fanned yourself with a magazine. ‘For all the good that does. Just lets more bugs in.’ ‘Get some screens, I’ll put them up for you.’ You were too hot to argue with him. ‘This fucking heat is supposed to go on for daaaays,’ you whined, ‘i tried just sitting in the bath last night with the shower on me but even the cold water was warm.’ Logan shifted a little at the thought of you lying in a cool bath, slightly ashamed of the effect such thoughts were having on him. Standing up, he brushed the dust off his jeans and picked up his shirt and coat. ‘Well you could always go jump in the lake,’ he suggested, and off he walked. Logan wasn’t much for saying goodbye.

Later that night, laying like a starfish in bed, still awake, hot and sweating after at least an hour of trying to sleep, you gave up. You just wanted to be cool for a fucking minute! Maybe Logan had the right idea. Maybe you should go and jump in the lake. You lay staring at the ceiling for a while longer, turning the idea over in your head. You could…it was past midnight, the chances of you running into anyone was remote. You could just jump in, cool off. You knew, somewhere in the back of your brain, that this was not a good idea. That you didn’t go swimming at night, certainly not without letting someone know. But you’d been wallowing in your own sweat for days now and you were sick of it. The heat had possibly driven you out of your mind.

You gathered up a towel and slipped on a pair of sneakers. You saw no reason to change from the tank top and shorts you had on. Maybe you’d skinny dip for a bit anyway. You just wanted to be cool.

You found a flashlight and started to make your way down the path to the lake. You hardly needed it, the moon full and bright in the sky, no artificial light to dim her glow. As you neared the lake you thought you heard a soft splashing. Animals you assumed, coming for a much needed drink. What you saw when you emerged from the trees was no animal. Well…not quite.

Logan was stood, his back to you, knee deep in the water. Naked as the day he was born, his hair still caught in the hair tie at the base of his neck. His back rippled with muscle as he flexed his arms and you had to stop yourself from gasping on seeing six brutal looking metal blades shoot from between his knuckles. That solved the mystery of what his ‘abilities’ were you supposed.

All sense left you and while you knew you should leave him and go back home you couldn’t look away. He was magnificent. As he turned to walk back to the lake shore, you took in his broad chest, the thick hair across it and down his stomach to the thatch of public hair and his cock…you were ashamed to feel yourself clenching around nothing at the sight of it.

You felt hotter now but it had nothing to do with the weather.

Logan stood still and scanned the tree line, making no effort to pick up his clothes. ‘I can smell you,’ he said. Coming from any other man the shiver up your spine would have indicated how creeped out you were by that statement. When Logan said it…

You emerged from the trees and walked across the patchy grass at the shore. Logan made no effort to hide his nakedness and you made no effort to hide that you were looking at him. ‘Both had the same idea, huh?’ You said ‘Something like that,’ You pointed at where the blades were still protruding from his hands. He noticed and you watched as they slowly retracted back into his arm. ‘The folk in town told me about you. Not details but…’ ‘Thought you wanted to cool down,’ Logan interrupted. You stared up at him. ‘Yeah I do.’ He splashed his feet around. ‘Water’s cold.’

Logan did not look away as you peeled off your top and pushed down your shorts. You found you did not mind. You stood there naked on the shoreline, only a few feet between you. Logan simply gestured to you with his fingers and as if he was pulling an invisible string you walked into the water.

The water was cold. Not cool. Cold. As it rose up your legs the further you walked in, the more your breath started to catch. You continued walking until you were waist deep, Logan having followed you as you waded deeper. ‘Are you still too hot?’ He asked. His voice felt so close and you could feel his heat radiate off him. Turning your head slightly you could see that he was now standing no more than a few inches behind you. ‘Yes,’ you breathed out. You felt the water move around you, felt Logan bending down and cupping his hands. Then a slow trickle of water started to run from your neck down your back. It made you shiver and let out a small sigh. Logan did this a few more times before speaking again. ‘Turn around’ You did. You continued to look at him, his gaze on you never wavering. He cupped his hands in the water again and let it run down your front this time, over your breasts, your stomach. He was just about to anoint you for a third time when you stopped him, taking his hands in yours and placing them over your breasts. He froze, staring down at where his large hands rested. You placed yours over his and urged him to squeeze. He did and you gasped, a slow massage to each breast, then his fingers trailed slowly down the slope of each, culminating in a soft pinch to your nipples. ‘Logan..’ you began ‘Don’t talk,’ he said. You nodded your head. With an almost glacial slowness he leant forward and pressed his lips against yours. Once, twice he kissed you softly, his hands settling on yours waist. Your skin felt hot where he touched you, but a different kind of heat to that of the last few days. He pulled you flush to him, his erection now pressed against you as he kissed you again, his hands moving down over your backside to cup your buttocks. ‘You going to fuck me or what?’ Logan looked at you. ‘That what you want?’ You wrapped a hand around his hard cock. He groaned into your touch. You supposed that gave him his answer.

You felt Logan run his hands over your ass again, lifting you so that your legs were wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. You could feel his cock against you and feel the wetness of your arousal leaking against him. ‘Been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you, Princess?’ and for then the first time you saw Logan smile. A proper smile. It opened up his face and you saw the man he was behind the beard and hair and scowl.

He carried you to the edge of the water, dropping to his knees and laying you back on the ground. You were already so wet for him but he reached a hand between your legs and began to stroke you, making you raise your hips to press harder against his hand. ‘This what you do?’ He breathed in your ear, ‘this what you think about to get yourself off?’ For a man who often said barely three words to you he had suddenly found a voice. You nodded your head which gained you another smile. ‘Tell me you want it,’ he said, already lining himself up to push inside you ‘I want this,’ you said and with that he thrust himself inside you. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his entry. Maybe once this was a man who would have taken his time but now, now he just wanted to be inside you, to fuck you, to fill you up.

You looked up at Logan as he loomed above you. His eyes had darkened with the lust pulsing through him. The feel of his skin against yours was hot, any coolness the water had provided long since gone. As he moved his hips, hard and fast, there was a soft slap slap slap sound as your bodies touched. It didn’t take long for you to be covered in a sheen of sweat again although this time you didn’t really care. All you cared about were the long hard strokes of Logan’s cock as he fucked you. Your legs were open so wide and he was so deep inside you. There was something primal in what you were doing, the lake lapping at your legs, the moon the only witness to your actions. Logan was a rutting animal, the only sound his grunts and near snarls as he continued to pound into you. When your brain allowed you to remember that you were entirely alone in the wilderness and no one would hear save Logan you let yourself go, no longer allowing yourself to be restrained by propriety. You were loud, panting and wailing into the night air. Logan’s arm snaked around your waist and he flipped you both, you now on top. ‘Go on,’ he snarled through gritted teeth, ‘fuck yourself.’ He held tightly onto your hips as you moved and fucked back onto his cock, hard and so big. You braced your hands on his chest, the hair tickling your palms, his pubic hair tickling against your clit as you ground onto him. You reached behind you and felt at the place where you met, your fingers brushing over Logan’s tight balls, which garnered another groan from him. You were both smeared in dirt from the shoreline but you didn’t care. Another dip in the lake would soon see to that.

You felt a drop of sweat starting to run down your neck and travel between your breasts. Logan reared up and caught the drip with his tongue, licking a long strip between your breasts and up to your throat. You put back your head and invited him to bite you. As you continued to ride him, he licked and sucked at you leaving marks you weren’t sure you could explain. He remained sitting up and thrust up into you in perfect rhythm with you. Your hands were around his neck then in his hair, the tie long since snapped and discarded. As you felt your climax pooling in your stomach you held his face and stared into his eyes. He didn’t look away and you both came staring into each other, Logan capturing your screams in a deep, messy kiss, his hips stuttering as he pulsed his thick come deep into you.

You had no idea of the time when you walked back to the lake to wash the now drying mud from you. Logan sat on the shore, making no effort to join you, just watching you as you washed. The air had grown humid and sticky again and you felt little cooler than you had when you first walked here. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

You dried off and pulled on your clothes. Logan had started to dress as well. ‘I’ll walk you back,’ he said. The walk back to your cabin was silent, you thinking about the ache between your legs and how good it felt. You glanced at Logan and wondered what he was thinking. As usual his face was unreadable. Before you went inside you turned to him as he stood on the path. ‘Thank you,’ you said. Logan merely nodded. ‘Weather isn’t supposed to break for another few weeks,’ he said before turning and walking away. Oh, you thought, and felt the ache between your legs again. You supposed you might have to take a few more walks to the lake. To cool off.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

I genuinely didn't think you'd be this fast when it comes to writing 😨

but I've been thinking about logan and crow mutant reader sharing an apartment together, and he just finds the apartment FULL of feathers😭😭

What a mess...

Logan Howlett x mutant!Reader

wc: 0.5K warnings: none, fluff, no y/n used, summary: It's shedding season. a/n: yeah, i couldn't sleep last night so i started writing and got done with it fast,,,,, and thanks for the fluffy idea, i LOVE it actually!! i googled, crows do shed, so this is kinda even more cute to me. Enjoy!

Logan just wanted a nice cold beer after babysitting some children in the Xavier school, a thin coat of sweat laying over his skin as he enters the slightly cooler apartment. It‘s in the middle of July and he dreads that time— summer. And he hates that time around the year even more so when he has to deal with edgy teenagers who think they can annoy him the whole time, just because Xavier isn‘t in the house. Okay, to be granted, the kids are in some way tolerable. Even if just a little.

That‘s why he was even more eager than usual to get home to you and just snuggle up together, maybe watch some tv, run his hands through your feathers…

»Birdie?« He calls out once he steps in, immediately noticing the few quills laid across the tiny hallways. They are gorgeous and long, slightly puffed at the beginning as the lay randomly on the floor.

Alarm bells go off in his head, unsure why the hell your feather lay across the floor as he starts to go in deeper through the apartment. Did someone attack you? Are you hurt? His heart already aches at the thought alone.

»Logan?« You call right back after a pause, voice light with a hint of teasing.

There you are, laid across the couch on your side, wings folded up around you that it makes you look even more cozy. No signs of distress or any injuries that he can make out, just simply you. On the couch. Filled with feathers. And blankets.

»What‘s, uh… with all the feathers?«

Oh, yeah… you forgot to tell him about shedding season. Even as a crow hybrid.

»Shedding season. Always comes around summer.« He hums lightly in acknowledgement and takes you in, standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room before he finally makes his way over to the couch.

»Well, that explains for your constant drowsniness and sudden obsession with silver trinkets.«

»Hey, I‘ve always loved silver stuff. It‘s just… more there lately.«

You defend yourself as you cross your arms, staying laid on your side while Logan sits on the edge of the couch near your form.

Your wings look a little scruffy with how many feathers you‘ve already shed, finding light gaps between the many rows of your wing. But he still finds it cute, if not even more pretty than it already it.

He notices the way your eyes close again, taking the time to take in how neatly curled up your form is. You do look like a little bird, he thinks.

»So, shedding season just means you‘re sleepy, shedding, and take anything that‘s shiny and silver, huh?«

Logan lists off, not even waiting for your answer before he gets off the couch to pick up the many feathers that lay around your flat. A sleepy hum escapes you from the couch, filled with various blankets, confirming his words.

Sure, he might be a little distraught with how much you shed, but he won‘t mind it. The most important thing is that you are well and kickin‘— even when you are more sleepy than anything in this time of the year.

←MASTERLIST

taglist₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.

@dreamzaremyrealityy

[unnamedrose]

𝐆𝐘𝐌 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝗪𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍

Logan wasn’t what you’d call a typical gym partner. He didn’t count your reps out loud or give pep talks, but he had a way of being there—solid, steady, like a shadow that refused to leave your side.

You’d be mid-rep, sweat on your brow, and there he was, leaning against the nearest machine like he owned the place. Arms crossed. Watching. Grunting every so often like he was the one lifting.

“Straighten your back,” he muttered once, not even looking up from the weights in his hands. You rolled your eyes, adjusted, and swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

He carried himself like he didn’t care. Like he just happened to be on the treadmill next to you, or casually resting a hand on the barbell you were about to lift. But then he’d move closer. Always closer. Adjusting your stance with a hand on your hip, brushing your knuckles as he passed you a dumbbell, glaring at anyone who even looked like they might wander into your space.

And when you finally flopped down on the mat after finishing a set, groaning dramatically about how much your arms hurt, he just shook his head, dropped a towel over your face, and muttered, “You’ll thank me later.”

But the next morning he was in your kitchen before you even woke up, brewing coffee, making sure you had breakfast ready, because apparently, post-gym recovery meant him taking care of you.

[silent-swooner]

One of the best series I’ve ever read ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ masterlist

𓆩♡𓆪 summary: Logan has spent lifetimes haunted by a curse only he understands—meeting the same woman, you, in every era, only to lose you over and over again. Each time, you’re reborn without memories of your past lives, while Logan, who remembers everything, tries in vain to protect you from the tragedies that seem destined to follow.

𓆩♡𓆪 pairing: Logan Howlett (X-Men) x fem!reader

𓆩♡𓆪 tags: fluff, angst, character death(s), outdated mindsets on women, mention of injuries, time skipping, soulmates, smut*, 'x2', 'the last stand', 'days of future past', (more specific tags come along with each chapter)

𓆩♡𓆪 chapters:

1854 - could it be love?

1880 - labyrinth of my heart

1900 - with you i'm free

1943 - wounds and whispers

1973 - we meet again my dear...*

1974 - ...but it was never meant to be*

2003 - i can see us lost in the memory

2003 - who are we to fight the alchemy?

2003 - who are we to fight the alchemy? pt.2

2004 - i love you, i'm sorry

interlude - i have questions

2023 - nothing matters but you

𓆩♡𓆪 bonus chapters:

1930 - 1943 - hope ur okay

alternate timeline - i love you, always and forever

𓆩♡𓆪 summary: Now that Logan found you he's determined to make sure you stay. But perhaps there is no more danger to be found. Or, the story of how you and Logan built a family.

𓆩♡𓆪 chapters:

make you mine

my girl, my man

homecoming*

science, baby!*

death by a thousand cuts

love won; love lost

dancing with our hands tied*

this is me trying*

rekindling

you're too sweet for me*

wanna see what's under that attitude

girl i've always been

just keep breathin*

new beginnings*

one of me is cute, but two, though?

one of me is cute, but two, though? pt.2

begin again*

you are in love*

you are in love pt.2

we survived the great war

we survived the great war pt.2

𓆩♡𓆪 bonus chapters:

first time - teach me how to love*

you get drunk - so it goes...

multiverse - i love you, in every life

𓆩♡𓆪 summary: Stories of you and Logan in other universes.

note: unless specified, all of these are oneshots.

𓆩♡𓆪 chapters:

house of m - bittersweet

logan (2017) - push and pull

worst logan - imperfect for you

worst logan - imperfect for you pt.2

fuckbuddies - i knew you were trouble

[halohalona]

this is what a day without classes or work looks like

[ottoscatwife]

wip again!!! i finally have my ipad lmao :333