#wolverine x reader slice of life

[chxrrywxvss]

now give Logan and Reader a beautiful wedding, babies and a house with white picket fence on the Canadian way of living 🤧

HELP MEE here is my sincere apology for my last post

Every Inch Of Me

“My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder.”

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Afab!Reader

Word Count: 3k

NOT PROOFREAD.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the clearing nestled in the Canadian Rockies. The air was fragrant with wildflowers, their colors vibrant against the backdrop of towering pines and majestic mountains. On this perfect day, everything felt imbued with magic. You stood at the end of a makeshift aisle, heart racing, your hands trembling slightly as you clutched a bouquet of white lilies and lavender.

As you took your first steps toward Logan, time seemed to stretch and bend. Each footfall echoed with the love that had carried you both through so much. Logan stood there, waiting for you, his rugged features softened by the gentle light and a look of pure adoration on his face. He wore a simple dark suit, but the way he held himself—strong, yet vulnerable—made him look more handsome than ever.

Friends and family surrounded you—some you had known for years, others who had traveled from far and wide to witness this moment. Among them were familiar faces from the X-Men, each one smiling, their eyes glistening with happiness. You could see Storm, dressed in an elegant gown, her joy radiating like the sun; and Scott, adjusting his tie nervously as he exchanged glances with Jean, who beamed with pride.

As you walked down the aisle, every gaze felt like a warm embrace, but it was Logan’s eyes that captured you completely. They were a storm of emotions—love, joy, and a hint of disbelief. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you, a blend of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach.

When you finally reached him, the world around you faded into a blur. The officiant’s voice was a distant hum as you and Logan locked eyes, the connection palpable and electric. “Do you, [name], take Logan to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The words washed over you, and with a breathless nod, you responded, “I do.”

Logan’s expression softened further, and you could see the man who had fought so hard against his past, now standing before you, ready to embrace a future filled with love. “And do you, Logan, take [name] to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

His voice was steady, but you could feel the depth of his emotion. “I do,” he said, his gaze unwavering, as if he were promising you the very world itself

With vows exchanged and rings slipped onto fingers, the officiant pronounce you husband and wife. The moment was surreal, and as you leaned in for your first kiss, the cheers from your friends and family erupted around you, echoing through the mountains like a joyous song. It felt as though the earth itself rejoiced with you.

As your lips met, you melted into him, feeling the warmth radiate from his body. This was it—the culmination of countless battles, both external and internal, that had brought you here. In that kiss, you tasted the promise of forever, the union of two souls who had weathered storms together and emerged stronger.

When you broke apart, his forehead rested against yours, and you could see the unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “I can’t believe we did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “We did it together, Logan.”

With laughter and tears mingling, you turned to face your loved ones, their faces beaming with joy. The celebration began, filled with music, dancing, and heartfelt speeches. You and Logan shared the first dance, surrounded by twinkling lights strung overhead. As you swayed to the music, he held you close, his heart beating in sync with yours.

“I never thought I could feel this way,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “You’ve changed everything for me.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes, and you tightened your grip around his neck. “You’ve always been worth it, Logan. You’ve always been worth fighting for.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

The day had finally arrived. After weeks of searching, you and Logan stood in front of your new home, a quaint white picket house nestled against the backdrop of the majestic Canadian Rockies. The sun bathed the landscape in a warm glow, and the air was crisp with the scent of pine and fresh earth. You could hardly believe it; this was the place where you would build your life together.

Logan turned to you, a mix of disbelief and joy on his rugged face. “Can you believe we actually did it?” His voice was husky, filled with emotion as he took in the sight of the house. “This is ours.”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “It’s perfect,” you whispered, feeling a rush of excitement. You stepped forward to touch the white picket fence, running your fingers along the smooth wood. It felt like a promise of all the memories you would create here.

As you walked toward the front door, Logan’s hand found yours, and together you opened the door to your new life. The inside was a blank canvas, the walls waiting to be filled with laughter and love. Sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the wooden floors, and you could almost hear the echoes of future footsteps.

“What do you think?” Logan asked, glancing around the living room, where a fireplace stood at the far end, its mantle waiting for family photos and decorations.

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, imagining how cozy it would be during the winter months, the two of you snuggled up by the fire with a cup of hot cocoa. “We could put a big, comfy couch here,” you suggested, pointing to a spot just opposite the fireplace. “One where we can all sit together.”

“Yeah, a big one,” he said, nodding thoughtfully. “And maybe a couple of armchairs. We could have a reading corner for the kids.”

Your heart swelled at the thought. “And a bookshelf filled with stories. I want to read to them every night,” you added, picturing Logan sitting in that corner, reading to your future children as they nestled against him, their eyes wide with wonder.

“Definitely,” Logan agreed, his expression softening. “I want them to know all the stories I loved as a kid. And maybe some of the ones I never got to hear.”

You took a moment to soak in the atmosphere, a sense of permanence washing over you. “This is where we’ll have our family,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Can you imagine? Kids running around in the yard, playing in the snow, climbing the trees…”

His eyes sparkled as he pictured it, too. “I can see it now. A little girl with your smile, and a boy who’s just as stubborn as me,” he said with a chuckle.

You laughed, the sound light and airy, but it quickly turned into a heartfelt sigh as you thought of the future. “I want them to have adventures, Logan. To explore this beautiful place, to play in the mountains, to know that they’re safe and loved.”

Logan stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you. “They will be, darlin’. You and me? We’ll make sure of it.” His voice was low and sincere, the weight of his words resting comfortably in your heart.

With a gentle squeeze, he pulled back and surveyed the empty room once more. “What about the kitchen? We need a big table. Somewhere we can all gather for meals.”

“Yes! A big, rustic dining table where we can have family dinners,” you said, your excitement bubbling over.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rich. “And I’ll be the one cooking, right?” He raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Of course!” you laughed, picturing him in an apron with flour dusting his cheeks. “You’ll be the best chef ever. Just don’t burn the pancakes.”

“Hey, I can handle pancakes,” he said, feigning offense, but the warmth in his eyes told you he loved the idea. “And I can teach them to chop vegetables. We’ll have a whole cooking crew.”

You stepped back to take in the space more fully, your mind racing with possibilities. “What about the backyard? We could have a swing set, maybe a little garden. I want the kids to learn how to plant flowers and vegetables.”

“Definitely,” he agreed, his enthusiasm matching yours. “I can build a treehouse, too. Just like I always wanted when I was a kid.”

You could see it clearly—a wooden structure nestled in the branches, a place for your children to escape to, to dream and play. “They’ll love it. Just imagine them up there, playing pirates or explorers.”

Logan’s expression turned serious as he looked at you. “You know, I never thought I’d want a family. Not with everything I’ve been through,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But with you, I see a future. I see them.”

The two of you stood in that empty room, the weight of your dreams and aspirations swirling around you. You could almost hear the laughter of children, the footsteps echoing through the halls, the warmth of family dinners filling the air with love. In that moment, you felt a profound connection—not just to Logan, but to the life you were about to build together.

As you stepped out onto the porch, the mountains stood tall in the distance, a silent witness to your journey. You turned to Logan, your heart brimming with hope. “This is just the beginning, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling you close. “The beginning of everything.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

Logan stood outside, the crisp mountain air filling his lungs as he swung the axe down, splitting the log with a satisfying thud. Each strike resonated with a rhythm that mirrored the steady beat of his heart, a heartbeat that felt more alive than ever since you had come into his life. The chill of the approaching winter nipped at his skin, but the warmth of home���and you—drove him to keep working.

He paused for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow and glancing back at the house. The white picket fence surrounded a place that had become a sanctuary, a home where laughter echoed through the halls. He could hear you inside, probably preparing lunch or tidying up, the sound of your movements a sweet melody he had come to adore.

Just as he was about to lift the axe again, he heard the front door swing open. He turned to see you rushing toward him, a sparkle in your eyes that sent a rush of warmth through him. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. “What’s got you in such a hurry, darlin’?”

Before he could even process your words, you launched yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the soft earth. The impact was unexpected, and he landed with a thud, the air whooshing from his lungs. He looked up at you, a mix of surprise and joy flooding through him.

“Logan! I’m pregnant!” you shouted, your face lit up with excitement, eyes sparkling like the stars above the mountains.

For a moment, time froze. The world around him faded, and all he could focus on was you—your smile, the way your hair caught the sunlight, the sheer joy radiating from you. The enormity of your words sank in, and a rush of emotions crashed over him like a wave. He felt the weight of the past lift, replaced by a joy he had never imagined possible.

“Pregnant?” he echoed, disbelief mingling with elation. He blinked several times, trying to absorb the reality of what you had just said. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes, a vulnerability he hardly ever allowed himself to show.

You nodded enthusiastically, your laughter bubbling up like a spring. “Yes! We’re going to have a baby!”

Unable to contain himself, Logan pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. The scent of you—warm, comforting, and utterly intoxicating—filled his senses. “Oh, God,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “This is… this is incredible.”

He could feel the tremors of his own body as he held you, the strength of his arms contrasting with the fragility of the moment. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, and he saw the glistening joy reflected in yours. “I didn’t know how you’d react,” you confessed, your voice softening.

“React?” he said, a laugh escaping his lips, a sound he hadn’t made in what felt like ages. “I’m… I’m just so damn happy.”

Tears began to flow freely down his cheeks, and he didn’t care. He was overwhelmed, raw with emotion, the weight of his past, of his fears, melting away in the face of this new life you were bringing into the world. “You’re serious?” he asked again, his heart racing.

“Absolutely,” you said, your voice cracking slightly as you grinned down at him. “I’m going to be a mother, Logan. We’re going to be parents!”

With a sudden surge of energy, he flipped you over, pinning you playfully beneath him in the soft grass. “You’re not just saying this to get out of chores, are you?” he teased, though the joy in his eyes betrayed the lightness of the moment.

You laughed, a sound that filled the air with warmth. “No way! This is the real deal!”

Logan’s heart swelled as he stared into your eyes. In that moment, he understood the depth of the love you shared. This wasn’t just about the two of you anymore; this was the beginning of a family, a legacy that would carry your love forward. The thought filled him with a fierce protectiveness.

With a sudden seriousness, he leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you both,” he vowed, his voice low and steady. “You have my word.”

“I know you will,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “And I’ll be right there with you.”

As he pulled you into his arms again, the weight of the world felt lighter. The mountains stood tall around you, a testament to the strength of your love. In that moment, Logan knew that he would face anything for you and the life you were about to build together.

“Let’s go inside,” he said eventually, pulling you to your feet and planting a kiss on your forehead. “We’ve got a lot to plan.”

“Like what?” you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Like what color to paint the nursery,” he replied, grinning. “And how to keep this little one from turning into a troublemaker like their old man.”

You laughed, and as you both walked back toward the house, hand in hand, Logan felt a profound sense of peace wash over him. He wasn’t afraid anymore; he was ready to embrace the future. Together, you would create a life filled with love, laughter, and the pitter-patter of little feet.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Life in the mountains wasn’t without its challenges. Logan’s past often cast long shadows over your bright days. He struggled with the demons of his history, moments when his temper flared or when the weight of his past threatened to pull him under. But through it all, you stood by him, reassuring him with your love.

One evening, after a particularly tough day, Logan sat on the porch, staring into the distance. You could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “I’m not the man you think I am,” he said, his voice heavy.

You sat beside him, taking his hand in yours. “You’re my husband and the father of our children. That’s all that matters.”

“But I’ve done things… seen things that haunt me,” he replied, anguish lacing his words.

“I know,” you said softly. “But that doesn’t define you. You’re here now, and you’re doing your best. Our kids don’t see the past; they see the man who loves them.”

His gaze softened as he looked at you, the turmoil in his eyes slowly giving way to understanding. “I don’t want to hurt you or them.”

“You won’t,” you promised. “We’re a team. No matter what comes, we’ll face it together.”

“Now, come on. The kids want you inside for dinner.” you smiled and stood, taking his hand.

—-----------------------------------------------------

As the years rolled on, the mountains witnessed the growth of your family, each day filled with new adventures and cherished moments. You built snowmen in the winter, hiked through vibrant autumn leaves, and spent lazy summer days by the lake. The love that filled your home was palpable, a warm glow that could weather any storm.

One crisp autumn evening, as the leaves danced in the wind, Logan pulled you aside. “I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice steady.

You looked up at him, heart racing. “About what?”

“About us. About everything we’ve built together.” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “I’m not afraid anymore.”

Those words hung in the air, a promise and a confession. You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and the journey you had taken together.

“Logan…” you whispered, your heart swelling.

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. “I’m not afraid of my past. I’m not afraid of losing you or our kids. You’ve shown me what love really is, and I’m ready to embrace it all. I’m not afraid anymore.”

In that moment, you knew that whatever trials lay ahead, you would face them together. The mountains stood tall behind you, the stars beginning to twinkle overhead as you shared a kiss, sealing your promise of love. With Logan by your side, you were ready to conquer the world.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Years passed, and your children grew, but the love between you and Logan remained as strong as ever. You often found yourselves reflecting on the journey—a wedding in the mountains, a home filled with laughter, and the beauty of family.

As you and Logan sat together on the porch, watching your daughter and son play in the leaves, you leaned against him, feeling content. “Can you believe how far we’ve come?” you asked, smiling.

“Yeah, it’s been a hell of a ride,” he replied, his arm pulling you closer.

“And I wouldn’t trade a single moment,” you said, your heart full.

“I love you,” he murmured, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, Logan. Always.”

And as the sun set behind the mountains, you knew that everything would be alright.

[countlessimagines]

Your World [ Wolverine x Reader ]

Summary: your Wolverine was your whole world.

A/N: I like writing angsty stuff and this movie provided me with the best possible scenarios <3 hehehe I love wolverine

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of blood

Marvel MASTERLIST Link here

SPOILERS BELOW

-

It wasn’t an ideal love story that brought you back to Logan.

Being a mutant with incredible healing abilities and a broken heart made it so easy for Stryker to capture you. Your Wolverine had been the one to rescue you from the clutches of Stryker and the horrible fate that loomed over your head. All the days of experiments and cold rooms where you’d be injected with who knows what, it all lead to him.

But you always had to remind yourself that Logan had gotten you out, made you a X-Men, but found the brutal truth of how dangerous it was to be loved by you.

You loved deeply and endlessly, like a void waiting for eternity to be loved and to love. Logan was exactly what your heart desired for years.

Someone who could never die, never leave you.

Fighting alongside each other became a beautiful symphony. And God protect anyone who caused you harm, because Logan would only see red and slice them to pieces. It was a miracle none of the X-men had been torn to shreds, but Scott always came close.

The team would always joke about your relationship, saying how could an innocent soul be in love with such a brute like Wolverine.

But Logan knew the only way he could breathe was to be with you, to hold you, to kiss and love you.

He would always find his way to you no matter the circumstance.

Beast was holding you in the infirmary because he wanted to run tests? Logan was there.

Storm and Jean wanted to have a girls night? Logan was sitting outside the room in case anything happened.

Scott was training you in hand to hand combat? Logan was definitely there.

Your world consisted of him and him only.

And maybe that is why it hurt so much when he let your entire team die, because you had not made them your whole world.

You had been away on a mission by yourself when you received the news of their passing. You returned to a bloodied home, no sign of Wolverine to be found.

Life began to blur after what happened. You had to go into hiding, because people blamed you for what happened, too. And there was no one there to stop you from spiraling into a flurry of self hatred.

Hatred for what you had become. A love sick puppy so consumed with Logan only. Maybe if you had been there, maybe if you hadn’t put so much trust in him, maybe if you could have taken the hits for your team.

And the thought that stuck with you the most, if you had been there, screaming for help - would Logan had only saved you and left the rest to die?

Because the love you shared was slowly becoming so obvious to you that it was not pure or natural, but rather so simple it would have made you and Logan public enemy number one.

But you supposed that had already happened, too.

Your mutant abilities were the only thing you had left, so you consumed yourself in underground work. Becoming exactly what the X-men had fought against.

Shedding your uniform, you had to separate yourself from the X-men because people recognized you too easily. It was hard to find any work where people wanted a tainted mutant.

You tried your hardest to not let every moment be consumed by the thought of Logan. He had never reached out to you after the event, despite the grief between you so overwhelmingly strong. He couldn’t face you and love someone who would have stepped through hell and back for him.

He felt as if he didn’t deserve it.

So time continued to pass as the bond between the two of you was severed so deeply that it was suffocating to be apart.

But it wasn’t until Deadpool showed up to your apartment that you were finally addressing your past.

“Leave, now. I’m not hearing any of your bullshit.” You tried to close your door but he stopped it.

“Please, c’mon. I need you! Wolverine needs you!”

You tensed at the mere mention of him. “If he needed me so desperately, it is far too late for him to come back.”

“But you’re his one and only, for fuck’s sake! Every variant I’ve met of him has had a you stalking around like a lap dog. You know how many of you’s have beaten the shit out of me?” He rambled on, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t care to understand what you’re saying, so goodbye, Wade!”

Deadpool sighed before kicking the door in and stabbing you through the chest with one of his blades. You stared at him in shock and couldn’t register anything as he flung you over his shoulder into an orange portal.

You landed on a hard ground that pushed the blade out of you. “Wade, you’re a dead man.”

He stepped through the portal and leaned over your body. “Sorry about that, but I can’t die so you’re stuck with not only me, but Wolverine!”

Deadpool giggled and ran off, making sure to rip the blade out of your stomach. You winced but felt your regeneration cells working to stitch you back together.

Slowly sitting up, you spat out blood.

“I tried to tell him not to bring you into this.”

You froze at the voice you fought to forget, willing calm into your fast beating heart.

Sitting up fully only made your legs wobble and your head spin. But you had to look up into the eyes of the man you still loved.

Logan looked different, healthier and happier. It only made you feel sick.

“I’ve been busy.” He said it so casually that it made you want to slap his chest for the lack of greeting. “Wade gave me a second chance. I helped save his world.”

“You haven’t seen me in years and you choose to brag?” You scoffed, removing your shirt to assess the damage Wade had done to your shirt.

Logan sucked in a breath as he took in your battle worn scars. Despite your healing factor, you still kept every scar from every wound you had endured.

He remembered the last time he saw you, you only adorned a few on your chest and stomach.

Now it was littered with them.

“You’ve been busy too, I gather?” Logan said with a hint of sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Why am I here?”

“Wade thought that I needed you.” He admitted it with such ease, like he knew it to be true in his heart.

“And? Do you need me?”

He hesitated before answering. “I’ve always needed you… and I think that’s why I let myself go for so many years. Because I knew that no matter what I did or said to you, you would never forgive me. I would always be the one who let our team die… let you go.”

“Well you’re right, because I never would forgive you. Not after abandoning all of us,” you choked out, the tears beginning to creep into the corners of your eyes. “I loved you fiercely, Logan. All it would have taken was one call during those first few days and I would have been there for you. We could’ve been healing together. But you chose this life of despair for both of us, Logan.”

“I know.” He said, his own eyes watering.

“I despise you.” You said, but your heart was breaking, letting out the true feelings. It was bleeding for him and for him only.

Logan stepped closer and you did not stop him.

“I want nothing to do with you.” You said, your voice cracking.

“I understand.” He said, five feet away from you now.

“I hate you.” You began to weep, the blood in your heart revealing what you wanted truly.

“I don’t blame you.” Logan closed the gap between the two of you, holding you close to his chest. You cried into his shoulder, holding on for dear life. “I’m never leaving you again.”

All you could muster was a small nod, your tears staining his shirt. His own were dripping onto the top of your head.

And in the empty apartment, you and Logan stood, holding onto each other.

Holding your world together.

[logansdoll]

I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one

-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.

Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james

I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good

I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.

contingency

running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.

'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'

With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.

Why couldn't he just remember?

He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.

But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.

Something crucial.

"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."

Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.

In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.

"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."

A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.

"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."

"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.

'Fuck it.'

Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.

He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.

Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.

Yet he knew he wasn't.

He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.

For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.

Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.

He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.

EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency

Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.

"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.

So home-like.

Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.

Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.

And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.

Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.

"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."

"No..."

"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.

He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."

"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.

"I can't..."

"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."

"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.

"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"

Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.

"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.

"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.

"She can't..."

"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."

Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.

"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."

He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.

"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"

He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."

"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.

How could he have ever forgotten you?

Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.

Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.

He could remember so clearly now.

You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.

No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.

Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.

With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.

Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.

He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.

Logan couldn't find the words.

The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.

"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"

You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.

"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.

Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"

"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"

He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.

"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.

"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"

Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.

'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'

Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.

"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"

In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.

"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.

"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.

Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

[ovaryacted]

─ Variant! Logan Howlett x fem! reader || WC: 1.4k

CW: None. Sort-of fluffy content/slice of life. Alcohol consumption. Kissing at the end. Just relationship dynamics and a growing yearning from grumpy Logan.

You knew I wasn't done talking about Logan right? Well, in this case, we are talking about Variant! Logan aka the Worst Logan from the Deadpool & Wolverine movie. I just got on the doc and thought about him, and this could've been a fic but this is what I came up with. This is also the first time I've written in this kind of format like "headcanons" but as you continue its basically a fic lol. Had to talk about this version of him because I am very fond of it and I loved him, truly. Anyway, hope y'all like it. <3

Variant! Logan who gets introduced to you on Wade’s account and it’s a complete accident. You stumbled into the apartment asking for the bottle of wine he had yanked from you earlier in the week.

Variant! Logan who observes you from afar as you walk into the kitchen, reaching toward one of the higher cabinets to grab the bottle of prosecco you desperately wanted. The moment you turn around to spot a whole new stranger in the room, you pivot to Wade and ask “Who’s the big guy?”

Variant! Logan who gets pressured by Wade to formally introduce himself and shake your hand, fingers mindfully wrapping around yours as he catches your name after saying his. He notices the way you smiled up at him, bright and charming, before turning to give Wade a friendly kiss on the cheek and waltzing back out.

Variant! Logan who quickly begins to get used to your presence, frequently stopping by Wade’s place to drop off dinner, cooked pastries, and alcohol. Your cooking definitely beat the emergency pizza and sandwiches Wade constantly got for him. Not to mention you made a mean tiramisu he grows addicted to craving.

Variant! Logan who often spots you chatting with Wade over anything and everything under the sun. He can’t recall the multiple pop culture references you both shared, or how you managed to make him laugh with your corny jokes, but he’s not complaining.

Variant! Logan who sits on the left side of you when you come by for movie nights or to binge-watch reality TV shows with Wade. You’d be munching away at some popcorn, wearing matching PJs with him while Logan leans into his side of the couch nursing a beer.

Variant! Logan who catches your glances as you hand him the popcorn bowl to grab a handful. He reaches for it, large palm grasping several kernels and munching on them one by one. Your eyes met his for a brief second before returning to the screen, and Logan swears you were grinning.

Variant! Logan who is uneasy speaking to you when Wade isn’t around, not wishing to make you uncomfortable with his grumpy attitude. You don’t mind either way, walking into the apartment to drop off some food and a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels for Logan as a proper welcome present. He didn’t expect a gift, or for you to even be thinking about him at all, but he’s glad you’ve allowed him space in your mind.

Variant! Logan who is more comfortable talking to you in person outside of grunts and nods. Despite babbling like Wade and having an equally foul mouth, you could hold an actual conversation in comparison to the other. Hearing your voice was also a plus.

Variant! Logan who is surprised when you bring him a book you think he might like, something about contemporary American history that felt like something up his alley. It was the first book that got him back into reading, and slowly but surely, he finds himself reading a little every night when Wade isn’t snoring his ears off.

Variant! Logan who gets invited to dinner at your place with Wade tagging along, something to celebrate your job promotion. Wade is really only there for the food and the lemon pound cakes you saved, munching away and telling you about the dickhead he just stabbed not too long ago. And though Logan wants to pretend he’s there for the hard liquor you only reserve for him, deep down he knows he came for you too.

Variant! Logan who enjoys the quiet moments with you, sneaking away to your apartment when you offer and lounging on the couch with another book in his hand. You sit across from him on the armchair, quietly reading on your end. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you look at him from the corner of your eye, forcing him to flip to the next page.

Variant! Logan who isn’t paying attention to the current film playing on the TV, another late movie night with The Godfather on the screen. Wade had already fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and you dozed off at the 2 hr mark. Your body had ended up leaning against Logan’s, naturally gravitating to his warmth and stability. He could have moved you to let you sit up straight, but instead he moves his arm from resting on the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder. His breath hitches when you move in closer to him, and he thinks you can hear his heart pounding in his ribs.

Variant! Logan who catches himself peeking at you for longer periods of time. It didn’t matter if your back was facing him, or if you were too busy showing Wade the latest TikTok trend. His eyes always seemed to drift to you, and it would be worse when you caught him looking. He’ll blow it off and huff as if he were irritated, missing how you smiled to yourself from the interaction.

Variant! Logan who has to take shit from Wade teasing him over his obvious not so obvious crush. “C’mon man, just tell her. If you don’t, I will!” That conversation ended with the schling of Logan’s claws piercing into Wade’s leg. He’s pissed off, but Logan knows he’s right.

Variant! Logan who sits with you on the couch during one of Wade’s house parties, nursing a cup of whiskey as you enjoy your homemade cosmo. The two of you have already mingled with the rest of the party-goers, your social battery running dry. So you both decide to be in your own bubble, communicating amongst yourselves and making fun of Wade’s lame party hat.

Variant! Logan who nervously swallows when you laugh at his joke, playfully slapping him on the sternum, shaking your head and nearly dropping your red solo cup. He takes in your expression, commemorating it to his memory as your smile widens and you shift to look at him. Your hand didn’t move from its place on his chest, and he didn’t have any intention of telling you to remove it. So you leave it there for a while longer before drawing away from him. 

Variant! Logan who walks you back home after the party, using it as an excuse to “sober up” and make sure you were alright to ease his own anxieties. You talk along the way, and he ignores the flutters in his stomach from the close proximity. 

Variant! Logan who stands by your front door as you unlock it, asks again if you were going to be alright on your own to which you nod. You thank him, his heart beating at the way you looked at him, like you cared about him, like he mattered. He brushes it off with a shrug and digs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Variant! Logan who doesn’t stop you when you step closer to him to place a gentle and affectionate kiss on his cheek, the touch making a shiver roll down his spine. You were right there, temptation dangling in front of his face. His eyes ask you a silent question, letting you call the shots when you plant your lips over his, soft and mellow.

Variant! Logan who suppresses the moan that threatens to slip out, feeling the tip of your tongue graze his bottom lip and silently ask for entrance. He shouldn’t, not when the alcohol was still running it’s course. Hesitantly, he pulled away from you, holding your waist with one hand and the other caressing your forearm.

Variant! Logan who is quick to reassure you after your sudden look of disappointment. “Not like this. Maybe, when you don’t taste like vodka and cranberries?” You laugh at that, nodding and rubbing the tip of your nose against his. “Only if you make it up to me with dinner.” He lets you go after that with one last kiss, standing in front of your apartment door for a minute more to catch his breath before heading back outside.

Variant! Logan who walks back to the apartment with a stupid smile on his face, one that he doesn’t register he’s sporting until he stepped through the door to spot Wade cleaning up the mess left behind on the kitchen table. He mentioned something about lipgloss over his lips and the side of his cheek, only getting a grumble and a few curse words in return. Logan ignores him and goes to the bathroom “to take a piss”, spotting the remnants of your lipgloss over his aged features. He grins, making a mental note to look for places to take you out for dinner in the morning.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Logan Howlett x Cyclops variant male reader

Ficlet

Reader is a Cyclops variant, just extra spikey, because Scogan is one of my guilty pleasures. I don’t know a whole lot about the X-men, so this I try to keep it vague.

I’m also very sick, so if this sucks, that’s why. I didn’t get a request for this, but I just needed it out my system.

Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers ahead!!

The void was a strange place, it didn’t take Logan long to learn that. Being stuck with Deadpool meant he had come to expect seeing weird shit, but a very angry, very bloody, almost half feral Cyclops was not one of them. You were simply so… angry. From what the resistance could tell them, your deep connection to the punch dimension, and whatever else had you picked up by the TVA and dumped into the Void, kept you safely out of Novas grasp, even if she very openly wanted you by her side.

Seeing the familiar visor made Logans heart ache so deeply, but that snarl on your lips reminded him too much of himself. Deadpool being himself immediately started cracking jokes, only for you to blast him with your eyes. And instead of just throwing Deadpool back, it seemed to completely disintegrate arm right off his body. Logan later learned that was one of the reasons the TVA picked you up. Apparently, your mutation was… wrong. Cyclops wasn’t meant to slice people in half with his eyes, just throw or punch them back. But whatever life you had lived, had shaped you differently.

Working side by side with a Cyclops again took some getting used too, and for you it was difficult too. But that rivalry but underlying respect was still there. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to hit him or kiss him when Logan absentmindedly called you Slim for the first time. In the end you nailed him in the knee with your one of your beams, just enough to get him to trip face first into the ground. That had caused Logan to snap out at you with his claws, but there had been no real heat behind it.

After everything, with Nova, with the TVA, and with you and Logan for some reason settling down in Deadpools dimension, things were up in the air. The X-men still existed in this world, and neither of you felt much want to join them again. Both for the fact that they clearly already had a much more stable Cyclops, and their Wolverine had been dead for years at this point. So, in the end you two just stuck together, tracking down different mutant traffickers and other bad guys, and dealing with them in your own violent manner. Your beams and other abilities, and Logan technically being dead in this world kept you both an unknown card in this world, to everyone but Deadpool at least.

Sure, at some point your actions would catch the attention of the X-men, but it would take them a while, and during that time the relationship between you two brewed into something new and different, but still good. At least, you thought it was good, and if Logans shoulders growing less tense and his eyes less haunted meant anything, then you could only assume the same from him.

Seeing Jean, Remy and Anna Marie on a hit wasn’t something you expected though. Logan had never truly dealt with his grief of losing them, and you had over dealt with it, to the point where you felt nothing but an empty black hole, which fueled the more deadly part of your powers. In the end, you sent Logan away, as you distracted the present X-men, with the fancy black beams you had mastered, keeping their appearance different enough that they wouldn’t be able to tie it back to their Cyclops.

Maybe the reunion with past familiar faces was what broke the camels back with Logan, as the moment you guys got back to your motel room, you found yourself flung onto the bed, Logan easily ripping your baggy clothes off your body. “Logan- hold up” you grunted out, as he descended upon you like an animal, sinking his teeth into your neck, your shoulders, your chest, as his hands grabbed and kneaded at you. Unlike most cyclops, you had a healing factor, so it was fine, but still, seeing him so fervent had you worried.

Logan had never been one for talking about feelings, but he also wasn’t gonna force you to do something when you clearly wanted to talk about it first. In the end, you two wound up laying side by side, Logans ear resting against your chest to hear your heartbeat even if his heightened senses easily could have heard it anywhere else. It was clearly painful for him to talk about it, how he felt, what he wanted to do about it but couldn’t, what he thought of himself, so on and so forth. And through it all, you just found yourself rubbing his back and caressing his hair, giving him replies when he needed it.

Getting all the nasty details off his chest seemed to be what Logan needed, as he became so much more relaxed and softer afterwards. You had never imagined you’d see the wolverine of all people being soft, but him laying on your chest and drawing small shapes on your stomach was proof it was real. Hearing it all from Logan brought of some of your own suppressed memories, stuff you wanted to forget or stuff you had overanalyzed till it lost all meaning, but still, you found yourself spilling it all to him. What happened to you, your own x-men, your powers, how you ended up in the void.

It left you both feeling vulnerable, like an exposed nerve, but also so much closer. It was at this point you two officially started your relationship, and would also be the day you celebrated anniversaries, even if Logan acted like he didn’t care.

In the end, you two hadn’t really planned too far out in the future, what you would do, where you would go, you just kinda lived at the edge of your seats and went where the wind took you. Of course, you guys joined Deadpool and his little gang of misfits every now and then, whenever you were around his territory. You shouldn’t have been surprised when the X-men finally fully tracked you down. Apparently, Colossus had been a great guy and kept you two hidden, since you in his words “needed time to heal and find yourselves”.

Them having Kurt bamf into your motel room was too much though, especially as Logan almost skewered him on his claws, only avoided by old instincts of Kurts taking him out of fire. They had all been near tears when they saw Logan, some happier or weepier than others. He fit in so great with them, and made that lonely sour feeling rear its ugly head as you sank into the background.

Logan, being ever observant, pulled you to the front, and introduced you by his nickname for you, easily stating that you were his, and that was that. Your visor had been lost a long time ago, replaced by whatever shades or goggles you two could find, but it was pretty clear who’s variant you were. It left the X-men floundering when it became obvious you two were more than just allies. Your preference for bloody violence was also pretty new, but what could they really do.

You both denied joining the X-men, blaming it on not wanting to settle down in one place. Xavier had a very knowing look on his face, so you wouldn’t be shocked if he knew exactly why neither of you felt comfortable amongst their ranks, at least for a long while. That didn’t keep different X-men from pulling up on you two any chance they got. Apparently seeing an edgier more rebel version of their leader and/or headmaster was quite a hit. They talked about you offering students beer for months, and how sour this worlds Cyclops looked about you made you cackle. So maybe it wasn’t all bad. But only the future could really tell, but with Logan, and your shared group of randos, then that future didn’t look too bleak .

[mistyorchid]

Breakfast For Dinner

Old Man Logan x fem! reader

warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, established relationship, love makes logan sappy + corny, age gap, reader is 21+, some suggestive actions/dialogue, logan calls himself old man, pet names (bub, baby, princess). wc: 730

an: I love the sweet housewife/partner fics but this is for the girlies that can't cook. aka me

Logan scrunches his nose. He picks up the familiar scent that tangled in the sheets you shared and lingered in the living room, where he reads the morning paper.

Another sharp inhale sends notes of bacon and burnt flour into his adept nostrils. His back aches after the hellish shift he endured, but the alarming thought of a grease fire destroying the home you share propels his body forward.

He senses your panic the second he steps inside the door. The chemical calling cards of fear—pheromones released from sweat—trigger a hollow throbbing in Logan's heart. His claws sink back into the tender flesh between his knuckles when he realizes you're not in immediate danger.

Your lame attempt to hide the charred remains of the dish forces an embarrassed laugh to tumble from your chest in short bursts. Hands on your hips, flour on every kitchen surface, including you. It was a stupidly endearing sight.

Logan loosens his tie, pulling open the collar of his dress shirt. He sighs, content with how beautifully mundane life has become. "Hey, bub. What's cookin'?" He asks with a teasing quirk of his brow.

He walks towards the kitchen island, slowly taking up more space until all you can feel are the hard plastic stove top knobs digging into your lower back.

You indulge in the broad plane of his chest, pulling Logan in by the front of his dress shirt. "I missed you," You admit, sighing as you run your hands over the garment.

A sly grin spreads across Logan's face. "Yeah? Enough to make me—?" His eyebrow quirks, questioning what culinary treat was filling the kitchen with smoke.

"It's supposed to be a quiche. Figured you'd be hungry after your shift. . . sorry it's burnt." You're suddenly captivated by a crack in the concrete floor. Insecurity seeps into your brain, unraveling the work you put into fostering your independence.

Never was a good cook. Always messing up the simplest things. So helpless, dependent, unworth—

A gentle caress on your cheek disrupts your negative thoughts. Logan's voice is firm, yet tender. "Stop that. I know what you're thinkin'."

Shit. He could always see right through your bullshit. It was tough indulging in self-deprecation when you had the world's most menacingly protective man for a partner.

You find your way back to Logan's eyes. You always do.

"Nothin' to be sorry about, baby. I don't expect you to make me anything, you know that." You can feel the pleasant hum that ricochets against his chest, inviting you deeper into his embrace.

"Hey, wanna ask you somethin'." Your lashes flutter against your cheeks. Logan's mouth stretches into a subtle grin.

"Can I get a quiche?" He quips, indulging in the way your nose twitches and the corners of your eyes crease with crow's feet.

A lighthearted laugh bubbles within you. "Did you just make a joke? You? The Wolverine?"

"Mhm. Anything to see that sweet smile on your face," He admits. A soft sigh leaves your mouth as you kiss Logan's; the feeling of him physically showing you how much you were missed while he was at work makes you dizzy with love.

He pulls back slightly before swiftly untying the dirty apron from your neck and waist, fastening it around himself.

Logan then forces himself to pull away from your body, allowing you to move off the range. He notices you soothing the sore indents on your back and orders you to rest on the couch.

"You look so pretty waitin' on me, princess. Let your old man cook dinner, and then we can have dessert."

He busies himself with slicing ingredients using his claws, feeling satisfied when he hears the sound of a horror movie playing in the adjacent living room.

An abrupt pause in the film causes Logan's ears to perk up. "Oh, we're out of ice cream!" You shout, worried about yet another error on your part. You fantasized about taking care of him, about embodying a picture-perfect role as his partner.

You could never be a Stepford Wife.

You start toying with the hem of your shirt as the silence that lingered after your confession seemed to stretch forever. Logan whips his head away from the kitchen island, promptly sheathing his claws.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face. "Not exactly the kind of cream I was thinkin' of, baby."

taglist: @pointyxsole @th3mrskory @fairiebabey @bratscave @elflutter @scorpiosaintt

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part two

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Two - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 1.9k

Months have passed since Johnny and I first crossed paths in the bleak void of the multiverse. In that time, the Borderlands have evolved from a chaotic, unsettling expanse into a strange but surprisingly reliable haven. I've acclimated to its disjointed blend of makeshift settlements and the diverse, often eccentric band of misfits who call it home. One of them is Laura, a fierce warrior with a rough edge, but a surprising softness beneath her surface. She once tried to explain the nature of my variant in her universe, but when she mentioned Logan, it struck a nerve too deep for me to handle. 

Today, Johnny and I are on a reconnaissance mission near the heart of the void, tasked with scouting for any unusual movements. We trudge through the arid expanse, our boots crunching softly over the dry, sandy terrain. The sky is a turbulent mix of colors, the horizon a jagged line of shifting shadows and light. Alioth.

The constant strain of maintaining control over my powers in this inhospitable space is wearing me thin. I can’t afford to let my guard down. We push through a small sandstorm that sweeps across the landscape, its gritty particles stinging my skin. I keep my eyes sharp and my hand resting on the hilt of my blade—a gift from Electra, a gesture of trust and camaraderie.

The oppressive quiet is almost a physical presence, the weight of isolation pressing down on me. We are about to turn back when a sudden disturbance breaks through the stillness. My heart skips a beat as the faint sounds of a skirmish reach my ears. Johnny’s hand clamps firmly on my arm, his grip conveying urgency.

“Did you hear that?” he growls, his voice low and taut with focus.

“Yeah,” I reply, straining to discern the sounds amidst the howling wind. The unmistakable clang of metal and the harsh grunts of a fight grow louder. “Let’s check it out.”

We advance cautiously, our footsteps muffled by the shifting sands, moving toward the source of the commotion. As we approach a tall, metal structure, I begin to climb it, Johnny following to gain a better vantage point. The structure, a rusted remnant of some long-forgotten machinery, creaks under our weight. From the top, the view unfolds before me, and what I see makes my breath catch in my throat.

Two figures are locked in combat below us, their movements a blur of speed and violence. The first is a Deadpool variant, clad in a distinctive black-and-red suit. He’s wielding a pair of katanas with an expert’s precision, slicing through the air with practiced ease. His opponent is unmistakably Wolverine, his adamantium claws extended and gleaming with a deadly sheen. Logan moves with a predator's grace, slashing and dodging with equal skill.

At first, I can hardly believe my eyes. A Wolverine—how could one of his variants be here? My mind races, struggling to reconcile this unexpected sight with everything I know. The scene is almost surreal, like a twisted mirror reflecting a reality I can barely grasp. I glance at Johnny, whose expression has turned serious, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Is that…?” I start, my voice trailing off, unable to articulate the confusion swirling in my mind.

“Yeah,” Johnny confirms, his tone grim. “Looks like we’ve got some serious anomalies here. We need to find out what’s going on.”

I watch as Deadpool and Wolverine continue their fierce exchange, their movements a violent dance. Deadpool’s agile maneuvers and rapid strikes are met with Logan’s relentless aggression. Despite the chaos, there’s a strange familiarity in their fighting styles—both driven by an intensity that makes them almost mirror images of each other.

“What the hell is going on?” I mutter under my breath, my mind reeling from the disorienting sight.

Johnny’s eyes remain sharp as he observes the conflict below. “We need to intervene. This could spiral out of control, and Cassandra could notice.”

Before I can respond, Johnny is already moving, his voice ringing out with authority as he shouts to the combatants. “Hey! We fight each other, we lose.”

The two fighters momentarily pause, their heads turning toward Johnny as he approaches. Deadpool’s head tilts, his mask concealing any visible expression, but his posture suggests surprise. “Dear god, it’s him.” His voice carries a mix of awe and disbelief. I watch cautiously from above, hesitant to step in, my heart pounding at the sight of Wolverine. He looks so much like my own Logan that the resemblance is almost painful.

Deadpool’s voice rings out with an irreverent edge. “Fair warning, gorgeous. You’re going to encounter some indelicate language. A smidge of ass play, but we’ve been prohibited from using cocaine on camera.”

Johnny, unfazed, urges me to move. “Veil, let’s go.” He turns to address me directly, his tone focused and commanding.

Logan’s head whips up, his eyes locking onto me with a mixture of suspicion and recognition. “Y/N?”

I jump down cautiously, my heart in my throat as I watch Logan tense, his claws extending in readiness. I land, a knee on the ground.

“Now that’s a superhero landing!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Logan demands, his voice a harsh growl, the tension palpable.

Deadpool’s eyes widen in realization. “Buddy, I think that’s—”

“Shut the fuck up. I didn’t ask you.”

In that moment, I see it—the familiar huff of his breath, the furrow of his brows, and the flare of his nostrils. I’d recognize my Logan anywhere. His eyes flicker with something unspoken, a mixture of relief and anguish, and his claws slowly retract.

I step closer, my breath catching in my throat. I can barely hold back the tears as I take another step and break into a small run. Logan meets me halfway, his arms enveloping me in a tight embrace. “I thought you died,” he says, his voice choked with emotion as he buries his face into my neck. I squeeze him tightly, my tears mingling with his.

“The TVA, they sent me away. I tried to find you.” I pause, my voice faltering with the weight of unspoken pain. “The others?” I ask, my eyes searching his for answers. He shakes his head, and my face crumples in grief. I had feared this would happen.

Johnny’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp with urgency. “They’re coming.”

I pull away from Logan at Johnny’s warning, my heart pounding as I steel myself. Logan’s face is a mask of pain, and I feel the crushing weight of my failure. I could have saved them all.

Deadpool’s voice interjects with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Who’s they?”

The answer comes in the form of an onslaught of vehicles, their jumbled piles of mechanics and scrap metal creating a menacing approach. Toad, Pyro, and Sabertooth are among those heading our way, their presence a foreboding sign of trouble.

Deadpool sidles up beside me, his tone laced with a twisted humor. “Oh, they’re driving angry. Can we pick this reunion up later, pumpkin?” He glances at me, then at Logan, who mirrors my confusion.

Johnny steps forward, his posture exuding determination. “I got this.”

I steady myself, preparing for the impending fight. “Stay close,” Johnny warns, and I move closer to him, readying myself for whatever comes next. Behind me, I hear Logan release his claws, the familiar sound providing a strange comfort amidst the chaos.

The cars circle us, forming a tight encirclement. “Cassandra is going to be giddy when she sees what we caught. You can’t run. Everybody knows that.” Pyro’s voice drips with malice as their vehicles come to a halt.

“You see anyone running, dick for brains? You’re not gonna love what happens next,” Johnny retorts.

Deadpool’s voice breaks in with manic excitement. “Oh, oh my God. Oh my God, he’s going to say it. Ha! Oh my God, he’s gonna say it!”

Johnny grins, preparing for his signature move. “Avengers—”

“—Flame on!” 

“What?”

I look at Deadpool with a mix of bewilderment and exasperation as Johnny ignites in a ball of fire. Pyro watches, amused and relaxed. I create a temporal clone in the sky, urging it to engage as I manipulate time, freezing the action momentarily. As I resume time, Pyro defeats Johnny’s clone with a burst of flames. The real Johnny lands beside me.

“I know you,” growls a voice from ahead, and I turn to see Sabertooth approaching with a predatory glare.

Deadpool’s voice is a mix of awe and irreverence. “Holy shit… Sabertooth… your brother.”

I snap at him. “Deadpool, can it.”

Sabertooth snarls, his voice a deep rumble. “Ready to die!”

Logan prepares to fight, his stance resolute. Deadpool adds with exaggerated seriousness, “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Time! People have waited decades for this fight. It’s not gonna be easy. Maybe not. Shoot the double and take him down. Side control, then full mount and you ground and pound, until he makes no sound because he’s dead.” He’s gripping Logan’s shoulders.

Wolverine’s expression hardens. “Shut the fuck up.”

Deadpool responds with a mix of arousal and admiration. “Oh my God. Okay, good luck. I’m a huge fan.”

The battle erupts with a ferocity that is almost immediate. Logan’s claws flash with deadly precision, and he swiftly decapitates Sabertooth. The severed head skids to a stop in front of Deadpool, who remarks with a grim humor, “What is it, girl? Is there trouble at the well?” It stops at his feet. “Oh, big trouble.” As Deadpool leans down and picks up Sabertooth’s severed head, I can’t help but grimace at the gory mess. Blood drips onto the sand, and Deadpool’s voice rings out with a bizarre sense of theatricality. 

“Behold! The head of your precious queen, Furiosa!” Deadpool announces dramatically, holding the head aloft like a trophy. “I have the Wolverine. I alone control her. You come for me! You come for her!” He points accusingly at Logan. I furrow my brows in confusion. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s pronounced ���him.’ I’m gender blind. It’s my cross to bear,” he adds with a wink, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Logan, breathing heavily from the intense battle, turns to me. “Who’s next?”

“Toad! You’re up!” Pyro’s voice cuts through the chaos, and I can’t help but let out a mischievous giggle. I watch with amusement as Toad sticks out his grotesque, warty tongue. I pull out my blade, my eyes narrowed in focus. With a quick, precise motion, I slice through the air, severing the tongue cleanly. It falls to the ground with a wet, squishy plop.

“Fucking nasty,” I mutter as the severed tongue writhes like a headless worm. The sight is both disgusting and oddly fascinating. Toad lets out a high-pitched scream of anguish, and as the chaos escalates, someone flips a switch. I turn just in time to see Logan hurtling towards me, and I brace myself. 

Before I can react, Deadpool appears behind me, and the next thing I know, we’re all smashed together against a massive magnet. The force of the impact slams us into a heap, and I feel myself being crushed between Deadpool and Logan.

“Uh-oh. Holy shi—” Deadpool starts to exclaim before the sound is abruptly cut off. 

The giant magnet presses down hard, and I feel a wave of darkness engulf me. The last thing I hear is Johnny’s distant shout, filled with frustration and concern.

Next Part

A/N: Let me know what you think! I’m sort of loving and hating my writing, next part will be Logan’s POV (maybe)

[cloudbug08]

Worth It

Logan (James) Howlett and agere!reader

A/N: All of my oneshots will be/are written with a fem reader in mind because I write my works self indulgently, however, if it’s requested I have no qualms writing the reader GN

Unless I’m writing a romantic work, there is so age in mind for the reader, however, romantic works will be written with an over 18 reader in mind （╹◡╹）

I’m being honest this made me quite emotional, the x men movies had a large impact on my life, especially the Logan and wolverine movies, they got me through a few dark spots. So I’m sorry if you get sad or cry, I did too, but it will get happier :)

I’m honestly really bad at characterising ironic characters like Wade, so forgive me if he’s a bit ooc

If you haven’t watched the Logan movie or the newest Deadpool movie this is my warning! Do not read any further if you don’t want spoilers! There are spoilers in this work!

TW/CW: references to Logan’s death, angst, grief, swearing, “Bad�� Logan from the Deadpool 3 movie, fluff, obviously where Logan died in Wade and Readers universe, the Reader died in ‘bad’ Logan’s universe, if that makes sense

“Your eyes are just like his, but your face is a bit different”

You lay your bag on the ground, shifting to lie down on your side, you brush your fingers against the cold rocks piled up over Logan’s grave, tears glob over your eyelids, gasping in wet breaths.

Your body jolts at the realisation that you’ll never see him again, you’ll never watch cartoons with him again, never have his warm hand rub over your shoulder again.

You lay until your bones ache and your knees creak, waiting, hoping, that just maybe he’d dig his way out of the pit, alive and warm. A hand rests on your shoulder, you jump, turning, you’re face to face with a red mask

“Wade!”

You cry, pulling the man into a hug, you hear the puff of air leave his chest

“You little ankle biter, why are you here alone?”

You whimper, alone, that’s right, everyone’s gone, you expect him to crack a joke, but he doesn’t, he just stays, quiet, a rock for you.

You offer him a shaky smile when he jokes about how late it is, offering you a night at his apartment, you comply, quietly walking next to him, thankful to have a friend.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

A night at Wade’s apartment turns into 5 years at Wade’s apartment, although the man’s a little odd, he keeps you safe, fed and happy.

You’re sat on the carpet, kicking your socked feet, colouring in a picture of a cat, you look up at the sound of the door unlocking

“Wade!”

You wave at the man as he stumbles in, balancing a McDonald’s bag in one arm, holding his keys and a few knives in the other

“Hi bug”

You grin at the nickname, a little peculiar, but so was Wade, you zero in on the brown paper bag in his hand, eager and nosy

He drops it on the table and you feel your stomach grumble at the greasy, but oh so delicious smell

“Hungry?”

You nod, eyes big and puppy-like

“You eat anything today?”

You feel warm, cared for

“Apple slices! N some peanut butter”

He squints, clearly not all that impressed

“I’ll pack up a breakfast and lunch for you tomorrow, don’t want you touching any knives”

You frown under your pacifier, dejected, you suppose he wasn’t being unreasonable, you did nearly cut your hand with a small paring knife

“Sorry”

He slouches into the old couch, pulling your happy meal out of the bag, along with a cheeseburger, he passes you the box

“Don’t worry.”

You both dig in, hungry. Finish up, playing with the little toy that came with the happy meal, Wade leans down to grab your rubbish, after wiping a blob of ketchup off your lip, you smile up at the man.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

It had been a dreadful two days, Wade was gone, nowhere to be found, at first you wondered if it had anything to do with his birthday, maybe he just needed time away, but Wade had never left you alone this long since he took you in, you were panicking, feeling your adult state slowly slipping away.

You thumb at your stuffed animals ear, nervously waiting, praying that something hadn’t happened to the only person you had left.

You whip around, listening closely to the murmur of voices outside, Wade? And someone else, you couldn’t quite make out their voice.

You jump up when Wade unlocks the door, barrelling at him, you grip at his back, your tears soak into the spandex.

“Woah, what’s wrong”

You hiccup

“Thought you died”

Wade rubs a hand down your back, clearing his throat, only just realising what an impact his potential death would have had on you, considering how close he actually was to dying.

“Shit-“

You tap his shoulder, light, but a warning, he lets out a puff of air

“Sorry, bad word, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that again.”

You grumble, He nods, pulling away, he turns you away from him, so you’re looking at the hulking man stood next to him, you blink owlishly, frozen in place, his eyes widen as he takes you in, you gasp wetly, you scramble against him, your small cry’s turning into heaving sobs, his gloved hands rest on your back, he calls your name.

You peer up at him, your face flushed and streaked with tears, he lifts you up, his own tears soak into your shoulder

“Da?”

He hums, his throat scratchy

“I missed you”

His breath catches

“I missed you too honeybee”

You were glued to Logan for the evening, holding his hand and following him around like a lost puppy, trailing after him when he left to go change.

He picked you up, rocking you on his hip while a lullaby played on Wade’s tv. Pressing a kiss to your forehead when you drifted off.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed, comments, requests and reblogs are very appreciated! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[i-wanna-write]

If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine x Reader Fic

Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan

Part 1

Chapter Warnings: violence, cussing, lewd comments/thoughts, reader is described as female

Word Count: 3k+

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///

The day you met Victor and James changed your life. You immediately left Montana, not wanting the psycho and his brother to follow you and cause more trouble. You ettled in another secluded cabin, this time in the words of northern Alberta, Canada. You wanted to put distance between yourself and that run in.

After that run in, you went from encountering two mutants for the first time in over 50 years, to five in the month it took you to find a secluded cabin. You may have killed two out of the five you encountered.

It wasn’t your fault though. One was able to phase through walls and proceeded to do so through your motel room and into your bathroom while you were taking a shower. The man tried to have his way with you but your claws quickly castrated him before he had the chance, followed by a quick slice to his throat.

The other was a woman who was able to will someone to do anything she wanted. All she had to do was meet another's gaze and they were basically her puppet. She spotted you at a gas station and attempted to strike up a conversion before you made eye contact and told her to fuck off.

That’s when she got a hold of you and had you rob the gas station. Unlucky for her, it wore off once you handed the money over to her and you were quick to slice her throat with your claws.

For some reason that was usually your method of death. It was more poetic than ripping someone’s throat out. It also was something an average human could easily do with a knife, allowing police to never guess a mutant was the assailant.

You finally reached Alberta and were able to settle down into a small cabin that was a studio with a small bathroom situated, having just a tub and a toilet. You weren’t picky though, happy to just be alone again after a month of travel through towns and civilization.

Your days consisted of reading or hunting in the woods, sometimes venturing to the nearest town to acquire some food or more reading materials. And alcohol. You always needed to have beer and whiskey wherever you lived.

You enjoyed the silence when you were alone. How on mornings, you'd drink a coffee and read outside, watching the sunset and listening to the birds become awake. It was nice, no instinct to kill someone or being overwhelmed with scents to ruin your day.

Until that instinct came back in full force.

One minute you were seated on your dilapidated couch at night, eating a rabbit you just caught, skinned, and gutted, the next you were standing, alert with all senses. Your claws were elongated, teeth on full display.

Having been in this cabin for a year, you were used to all sounds around it. The sound of a family of foxes scurrying back to their home. The sound of the occasional bear walking by insearch of the foxes. The sound of the vultures circling over a dead carcass.

You never heard the sound of gunshots.

Following it was silence. No longer were the animals running around, the birds flying high. The only sound was your own breath and heartbeat for a moment.

Then you heard it. A roar so loud, you were surprised it didn’t shake your house. You immediately rush out your door, the fresh air filled with the smell of copper. Of blood.

You let your nose lead you, running a mile before you were able to make out two silhouettes in the dark. One was couching over something, the other a few feet away, leaning against a tree with their hand on their chest. You took a breath in, their scents hitting your nose.

“Fucking great.” You mumble to yourself, a few feet away from the pair.

Thanks to their mutations though, they heard it.

You watch as both of their gazes shoot your way.

“Well, look who it is.” The one crouching says, coming to raise. “Fancy meeting you here, huh frail?”

You roll your eyes, taking Victor in. He looks exactly the same as a year ago. Hair just as short, stubble still on his face. His canines are showing as he smiles and you watch as his clawed hand, which you now notice has blood on it, raises to his mouth and he licks it clean.

You grimace slightly, never relishing in the taste of blood. You turn your gaze to see James is still with him, leaning against a tree with an aggravated look on his face and holes in his jacket. You notice the holes are consistent with the amount of gunshots you heard.

“You okay?” You ask James, walking slightly closer to him as your eyes are finally adjusted to the dark.

“”M fine Bub.” He gives a curt nod of his head and you stare at him a moment, noticing that his hair has grown in the past year. It still curls around his ears and to the nape of his neck but now the tufts on the sides of his head are slightly longer. While it is a weird hairstyle, you silently think he pulls it off well.

You turn back to see Victor watching you, although this time in annoyance rather than distrust. You think he’s probably a little butthurt you broke his arm and tore out his throat.

You look down at the body before him, noticing claw marks on his torso and blood soaked in his clothes. The man appears to be in his early sixties, slightly overweight and balding. A gun is thrown to the side and it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

You sigh, starting to walk towards your cabin before turning to look at the men, an eyebrow raised.

“You assholes coming or what?”

You turn back around and continue on your way, listening as the two of them begin to follow.

///\\\

You lead the other two mutants into your small cabin, none of you saying a word on the mile walk to it. You open the door for the men to enter, observing how they look around and know there's not much they'll see.

“Take us back here so you can have your way with us, frail?” Victor asks, turning from his spot behind your couch to look at you, smiling with his canines.

“Actually, so I can rip your throat out again.” You smile back, all canines.

Victor's smile falls from his face to annoyance, pride filling you. James' lips quirk up in a grin before being replaced with his usual brooding expression. It happened so fast you almost think you imagined it.

“I don’t like you.” You start, pointing at James. “And I certainly hate you.” You add, now pointing at Victor. “But odds are that hunter would’ve found me and I probably would’ve been the one to kill him so,” you shrug this time, ending it at that for your explanation.

“Awe, you going sweet on us frail?” Victor asks almost mockingly.

You just shoot him a smile back, not wanting to play into his taunts. You walk over towards the bathroom, opening the door.

“Only a tub but gets the work done if you want to wash the blood of ya.” You say to James, making eye contact with his deep brown eyes. “I was in the middle of my dinner but will go hunt another few rabbits. You touch any of my shit, you’d wish I only ripped out your throat.” You pointedly look at Victor.

You make your way from the opened bathroom door, walking past a thinking Victor. You pass James who is leaning against the kitchen counter and back to observing your small space. You’re about to make contact with the door handle before Victor’s voice cuts you off.

“What kinda man am I if I let a frail do the huntin’.” He says, walking back over to you.

You quickly glance down at his crotch, enough to make it obvious, before looking back to him. “Don’t think you’re much of a man to begin with.”

Victor growls, hand reaching out to strike you before James intervenes. You didn’t even notice, he reached you so fast. He now stands between you and his brother, his back to you. He’s so close your senses are filled with smoke from a cigar, a hint of whiskey, and his own blood. It’s amazing what your mutations do, sliding bullets out and healing as if they never happened.

Victor and James share a look, as if silently communicating before Victor leans into the taller man's ear. “If you wanted her that bad, just had to say so, Runt.”

Victor moves past the both of you, opening your front door and slamming it shut. James walks away from you, heading back towards the kitchenette. He opens a cupboard, as if knowing what’s in there, and grabbing one of your bottles of whiskey.

He doesn’t grab a glass, just opening the bottle and taking a swig. You sigh, walking over to the man, and lean against the counter next to him, though not close enough to touch.

“He always a misogynistic asshole?” You question, taking the bottle from James hand and gulping some down yourself.

The rims taste like him, a lingering taste of tobacco and mint. Your mind starts to wonder if the taste would intensify if his mouth was against yours but quickly shakes your thoughts.

James lets out a snort, grabbing the whiskey back. “Only around women.”

You snort at that, finding it funny how opposite the two brothers are. One barely speaks, the other enjoys his own voice too much. One is short, the other tall. One seems to enjoy the kill, playing into his instincts, the other fighting against them at every moment.

“Since you’ve probably gathered how I spend my years, roaming place to place, how do you and Victor?” You question after a few minutes, trying to learn more about them.

You’re met with silence and not surprised. It was bordering a personal question and you had to guess James wouldn’t be privy to answer it. You just let the silence take over again, going back to your thoughts.

“War.” James finally says.

“Hmm?” You question, turning to look at him in wonder.

“You asked how we spend our years, war.” James says.

You feel like an idiot for a moment but don’t let it show, quickly asking another question. “What type of wars?”

James sighs, turning to look at you as well to meet your E/C eyes. “Fought in World War 1, fought in World War 2. Now we just roam like you. Sometimes come across a mutant and Victor will take them out.”

“So that’s what he wanted with me.” You conclude.

“Among other things.” James reveals, eyes trailing down your body, as if realizing you’re not dressed like a boy as you were when you first met.

You immediately look away, suddenly feeling the intensity of it all and noticing how close the two of you have gotten. You’ve known this guy, what, three hours total? What’s wrong with you? You clear your throat, grabbing the whiskey and swallowing before speaking.

“Well, if you need to clean up. Help yourself.” You say, gesturing to the bathroom.

James takes that as the conversion is over and nods. You watch as he pushes off the counter and walks towards the bathroom. The door shuts and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Running a hand through your hair, you walk over to your couch, picking up your previous discarded dinner and throwing it away. You hear the tub turn on and try to ignore the naked man in the room so close. You wash the dish and head back to the couch, grabbing your nearest book and diving in to distract yourself.

You’re brought out of the chapter you’re reading thirty minutes later when the bathroom door opens, James standing in the doorway in nothing but his jeans. You swallow, feeling your heart raise. If you thought he was huge in his shirt, he appears larger without it.

His pecs are defined, as are his abs, showing off his muscular build. His chest is lined with hair, traveling down his stomach to the waist line of his pants. You imagine that if he were to take them off, it would continue down.

Your observable gaze catches James and you realize he just caught you ogling. You blush slightly, turning away in embarrassment. You’ve seen shirtless men before. Hell you’ve seen naked men and lied with them. But none of them compared to James and that is just with him without his shirt.

Your front door suddenly bursts open and you raise, teeth bared and claws grown. You hear a schlit and look over to see James in an attack stance, his own mutation on full display. That’s when you finally get a good view of part of his mutation. Out of his knuckles are three, one foot bone like claws on either hand.

‘So that's what he sliced me with.’ You think to yourself, wondering if they hurt when they exited him.

“Am I interrupting something?” Victor's voice drawls, your gaze traveling back to see the man with the door closed behind him.

Despite having gone hunting, he’s surprisingly clean. He holds three gutted and skinned decently sized rabbits in his right hand. You retract your claws and teeth, James doing the same.

“We’re just discussing why it was taking you so long.” James bites at him.

Seems like the more comfortable he grew in your presence, the more of a backbone James seemed to grow towards his brother. The older man just rolled his eyes, walking over to the table and putting the rabbits down.

“Time to get cooking frail.” Victor says to you.

He walks over to you, side stepping to take a seat on your couch. He brings his legs up onto the coffee table, boots still on, and crosses his ankles. You watch as he folds his hands on his lap, claws still drawn and gaze on you.

“Ain’t your mother.” You retort, smiling mockingly.

“We’re your guests, where's the hospitality?” Victor asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Same where my normal genes are, non-existent.” You cross your arms across your chest, awaiting him to get up and do it himself.

“For Christ sake, Victor. I’ll cook the damn food. Least we can do after her letting us in.” James grumbles, grabbing his shirt and jacket from inside the bathroom and putting them back on.

You hide your disappointment and watch as the tall man walks to the kitchen, this time rummaging through the cupboard before finding what he was looking for. He quickly gets to work at preparing the rabbits, you making your way to lean against the counter and watch him.

Despite you barely knowing them, your instincts tell you that James is the better of the two. That he wouldn’t ever harm you, at least on purpose, and had no ill will towards you.

You couldn't say the same about his brother. But somehow, you feel safe with James here. How he was willing to step in between you and Victor, his back to you in defense. You’ve never felt safe around soemone. Not since before your mutation made itself known

Soon, the meal is finished and you sit in the teared up recliner while James sits on the couch next to his brother. You all eat in silence, though noticing how Victor's gaze travels between his brother and you every so often, nose flaring.

You know he can probably smell your attraction towards his brother. Hell, you know it based on your own mutation. The moment you saw him without his shirt in your bathroom doorway, you’re core throbbed and you knew James would be able to smell you.

But that’s just nature, hormones. Any woman would have the same reaction in the situation, it’s just basic biology. Mutant or not, James was an attractive man. And guessing by his own scent he was giving off, you were an attractive woman in his eyes.

Once dinner is done, James, again your favorite brother by a long shot and not just due to looks, takes the plates and washes them. He returned back to the couch, standing over Victor with his arms crossed and looking almost expectantly.

“What?” Victor questions gruffly.

“Should get going.” James says pointedly.

Victor makes a face. “We got a place to stay the night, with no one around, and you want to leave?”

“She never invited us to stay.”

“I never invited you to stay.”

You and James say at the same time, looking at each other awkwardly. Victor lets out a laugh.

“Ain’t that cute. Soon you two will be fucking against the wall and produce little runts runnin’ ‘round.”

You stick your tongue in your cheek, wanting nothing more than to rip this throat out again. It seems if he can’t have you, he may as well embarrass his brother since he also wants you.

But you're not going to give anything to either of them.

“Victor.” James growls low, eyeing his brother.

You watch the silent exchange between the two before the older one rolls his eyes. He removes his once again kicked up feet from the coffee table, moving his neck side to side to crack it before standing up.

“Always gotta be the good guy Jimmy.” Victor mumbles before brushing past his brother.

You watch as he makes his way to the front door before turning around and flashing you his canines.

“See you around frail.” He says before opening it.

“I hope not.” You call back as he slams the door shut.

You’re alone with James and stand, arms at your side while his are still folded across his broad chest. You watch as he sighs, as if having expected that of Victor.

You feel sorry for the guy, really. He obviously loves his brother, at least a little. But it puts him with someone on the verge of losing sanity due to his instincts. You noticed that within only a year, Victor had no qualms about showing off his canines and claws, not once withdrawing them during this run in.

Meanwhile, James seems to have a good moral compass and always tries to diffuse a situation. He was just as quiet but more polite this time. He’s either logically thinking you’re aren’t a threat and beginning to feel comfortable around you, or maybe relying on his instincts and going of your mutual attraction to not see you as a threat.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment. Neither of you moving or saying anything. You stare into his brown eyes, watching as emotions flicker through them. Anger, annoyance, acceptance. As if he knows this will be his life forever and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

He breaks the gaze first, lowering his arms and walking towards the door. You eyes follow his movements, watching as his hand opens the door before he pauses to look back at you.

“See ya ‘round, Bub.” James softly says before stepping outside the cabin, closing the door behind him.

“I hope so.” You whisper back to the closed door.

\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///

Tag List: @randomblogzsblog, @sebastianstanblog, @h0n3y-l3m0n05

[rebelliousstories]

Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine SFW Alphabet

Relationship: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst

Word Count: 3,684

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Consider donating a TIP or a Kofi: Here

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Logan is a very solitary guy. He’s much more used to being on his own than with someone in any capacity. That said, I do see him as an “acts of service” kind of man. He definitely is getting you refills on your food and drink at mansion parties, and keeping an eye on the people around you. He’ll carry you to your room after a mission, or make sure that you’re not needing any medical assistance, if you are a part of the gang.

If you’re a normie, he’s holding your heels and carrying you home after a night at the bar even though he warned you not to wear them and to just go with your boots.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Sarcastic comments and playful bullying are your first love languages. I mean, people outside the friendship think you hate each other, but that’s only if they don’t look at you closer. He would always find something to tease you about, but he never let it get too mean.

If you’re an X-Men too, I believe that you guys would have been made to go on a solo mission together. You two have never been this close, so you try to pass the time, but it eventually turns into you pushing Logan’s buttons. So he gives it as good as he gets.

A normal person however, a non-mutant, I could see him just meeting you at every given chance. It’s a small town in Canada that he has decided to stay in; there’s one post office, one coffee shop, and only a couple of bars and restaurants. So yeah, he just keeps running into you, and strikes up a little conversation each time.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Oh he for sure loves to cuddle. You’re going to look at me and tell me that grumpy kitty with the fluffy hair doesn’t like to cuddle?! Oh nay, nay. This man loves it. A major reason is that he loves to make sure you’re kept happy and comfy. In Logan’s mind, the safest place you could be was in his arms.

Logan would cuddle one of two ways. He would either place you on his chest, fully laying down on him because he would love to feel your weight on him. It’s comforting to the man. Or, he would be on his side, with you in front of him. His back would be to the door, and his arms would be tucked up all around you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

This man has proved he wants to settle down. He wants to have his little cabin in the Canadian wilderness, maybe a dog, and you and some littles. Logan would want to retire from being a superhero one day. Even though he could technically live forever, he doesn’t want to spend those days fighting. He craves having a slice of the quiet life, with someone he loves.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Cold, quick, and efficient. He would not draw it out, or withdraw from you over time. Logan would either simply leave with only the necessary items while you’re asleep or away. But if you catch him leaving, he would continue barreling towards the door, successfully shaking off your hands. He would not talk more than necessary and would only leave with one final glance before stalking off into the unknown, and away from you.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Logan loves fiercely and deeply. Not even death can shake his love for you. He would learn to live with it of course, but he would still proclaim his love for you till his dying breath. He’s a committed man to those who commit to him. To be loved by the Wolverine is a blessing and a bit of a curse. That fierce kind of love always rears it ugly head in a jealous mood if he notices you getting close to someone you shouldn’t. That being said…

If you were a mutant that had a healing factor like him, I think he would want to actually get married. Full on, with a marriage certificate, a suit and gown, and a beautiful ceremony and reception on the lawn of the mansion. Beast definitely officiates the wedding, with Charles rolling with you down the aisle. Scott makes a joke about how Logan should get married in a Canadian tuxedo rather than a traditional one. That doesn’t go over well with the man who is already reigning in his nerves about the whole ordeal. Not about marrying you, but rather the fanfare of it all.

If you do not posses a healing factor in some fashion, whether you’re a mutant who doesn’t have that, or a non-mutant, I feel like he would be hesitant to marry you. Logan wouldn’t want to tie you down to someone that will inevitably outlive you. In fact, he might encourage a break up so that you can find someone to grow old with. But, if you manage to convince him to stay, he would have no hesitation about marrying you. You have a small and intimate affair, from where Logan calls in a favor from an old friend named Charles.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s the Wolverine. It’s James Logan Howlett. That man is as soft physically as concrete wall. However, he does tend to take a softer hand to you no matter what he is doing. Logan has lived with his own enhanced strength for centuries, but he is still afraid of hurting you. He would always make sure that his hands are soft on your body, and that his claws are nowhere near you.

Now, emotionally, again it’s the Wolverine people. He is a lone wolf, that doesn’t care too much for the rules of society. But, when it is just you two, he’s letting you in on his struggle on reconnecting his past or the innermost struggle of his more animalistic side. Going back to A for Affection, Logan sends you little winks and smirks from across the bar. But his smile, his genuine smile when the two of you are alone; those are what you both cherish.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He, for sure, loves to hug you close. He’s just got those big meaty hands, and those equally beefy arms that encompass you and keep you close. It’s a safe form of intimacy for him. Even if his claws were to come out accidentally, he would probably just knick himself. There would be virtually no chance of him getting you caught between them.

Logan tries to hug you whenever he’s home from missions. The first thing he does after getting home and dropping his bags in the foyer of the mansion, is to find you so he can get his hugs that are on back order. It’s something that helps ground him as much as his hugs help to ground you.

Getting a hug from Logan is the physical feeling of putting a fleece blanket hoodie on a bear statue and walking into it. He is always warm, partially because he’s a big burly man and partially because of his mutation, and he’s hairy. So if you hug him without a shirt on, be prepared. Could make a carpet out of that body hair.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

At least six to eight months, but more than likely a year. He’ll know right around the six month mark, but he’s not telling you at first. Logan would assume his acts of service and protection were enough to tell you that. He’s also waiting on you to gage how he feels about saying that word to you. You’ve gotta show him, and possibly tell him, you love him in order for him to reciprocate.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Logan really only gets jealous if he notices someone younger and attractive trying to chat you up. A major insecurity of his would be the age gap, and possibly you not living as long as him. If you had no regenerative healing factor, he might just quietly sulk in the corner of the bar as he watches.

If you do, however, he would be downing that beer first, and then moving. Logan’s not stupid enough to leave his drink unattended. Just because he can heal from just about anything, doesn’t mean he wants to. He’s pulling hands away and squaring off to anyone that dares try to get handsy with his girl. And you need to be prepared to calm down the feral Wolverine, and give him some reassurance once you get back to where you guys are staying.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

As I said, Logan loves fiercely and deeply. His kisses are no exception. He kisses you like it will be the last time he sees you forever. Logan aims to encapsulate you in a kiss, and it works a lot of the time.

He loves your lips, and forehead. Especially if you’re shorter than him. Lips for the obvious reason; it’s close, intimate, and he loves feeling yours against his. Now the forehead, is because that is what he can reach. When you’re tucked into his chest, he wants to be able to kiss you but for whatever reason he can’t, so he goes for your forehead. Also those forehead kisses just bathe you in a warming glow.

Logan loves to be kissed on his throat and knuckles. Now hear me out before you scroll away! His throat, because if you’re shorter than him, it always happens when he’s got you hugged close. So when he’s dropping kisses to your forehead, press a couple to his throat and he’s putty in your hands. As for his knuckles, it’s a dangerous game, but one that is born of a time of deep insecurities. When he is having doubts about himself, his choices, and his past, he likes to sit with you on the couch or bed and hold you. Logan is always worried about having you anywhere near where his claws come out of skin, but the little, feather light kisses you leave, well, they break his resolve just a bit.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

I believe that it depends on the child’s age. If it’s a small baby, like less than two years old, he would be okay as long as he is not the one holding it. However, if you do manage to convince him to hold the infant, he is sitting there with the most scared expression he has ever had.

Kids that are a bit older and can handle their own he’s okay being around. Logan doesn’t mind the younger ones, like are seven or ten, but he tends to just watch them rather than get involved. Teenagers are the youngest he likes to interact with. He’s just not used to being around little ones, and he feels like he’s too old to start now.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Logan are blissfully spent. Whenever he gets the morning off from work or from the X-Men, he loves to spend it doing absolutely nothing. Slow mornings are spent lounging in bed, with nothing on your mind. He loves watching you sleep and be at peace. It’s a peace that he, himself, longs for. Logan enjoys being able to have slow mornings as it gives him a taste of a life he craves.

N = Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

Evenings depend on how that day has been. If the day goes good, then you can expect a nice slow evening, with cuddles and kisses. Maybe falling asleep to an old black and white film on the tv, with you perched of his chest.

Now if he had a bad day, oh Lordy. Logan is going to be non-verbal and totally unwilling to be near you. For your own sake, he wants to keep a distance from you. He doesn’t want to hurt you physically or emotionally. Eventually, Logan will come to bed, but he does it after you have gone to sleep, because he just doesn’t want to deal with any questions. Not until the next day.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Logan would not be open to you at all. He’s a very closed off man that doesn’t let just anyone in. It would definitely come in stages. He would tell you what he could remember about his past over several months to years. And as he uncovers more of his past, Logan will come to terms with it before he ever tells you. He’s also a man of few words, so it will probably take him a while just to put it into words to tell you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

I don’t think he gets angered easily so much as annoyed. It genuinely takes a lot to get him angered. And most of the time, he’s playfully annoyed at you. Like if you politely ask him for another drink, he’ll grumble about how you are perfectly capable of getting it yourself. However, getting him mad is something that takes a personal turn. If you attack his abilities, or legitimately degrade him, he’s getting righteously angry. Logan takes any purposeful attacks on him personally. And he knows you could do it after a while of dating, because he will have told you things that will push the right buttons in the right order.

Q = Quizzes (How much do they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Logan remembers everything. Losing his memory is a blessing in disguise, because now he can use that space for you. He truly loves every word you say, even if he doesn’t show it. Logan can often be perceived as disinterested in you whenever you’re talking. But this man got a small notebook to fill with random things you talk about, including your to go orders. There’s a section about favorites like food, color, or move. Another is there about dreams and plans for the future, and even random things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Logan’s favorite memory is one random night in the dead of winter.

He returned home from a mission gone horribly wrong. Scott was pissing him off, Jean kept trying to tempt him into another relationship, and Storm was staying out of it on the flight home. Then, the actual contents of the mission. They had lost their target, gotten wrapped up in another one of the Brotherhood’s schemes, and overall got the snot kicked out of them. The team had enough that day. So getting home was of top priority.

Logan grabbed his bag and stalked off before anyone could get a word in on him. He wanted out of his suit and in his bed as of yesterday. Even he could feel the cold from the snow seeping into the mansion as they ascended. He was in his jeans and his usual jacket, but the boots caused the stairs to creak under his weight. As he came into the room, his heart skipped in his chest, and he leaned against the doorframe.

There you were, snuggled up in the blankets with his flannel wrapped around your body. You were even on his side of the bed with your face smooshed into his pillow. It made him swell with love and pride. But that stands out in his mind, because it was the first time that he had caught you like this. The TV was still on; you were trying to wait up for him. And that meant more than anything in the world. He would never tell you though, that he had caught you like that.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

I’m sorry, you do realize who we’re talking about right? Wolverine is going to be the most fiercely loyal and protective lover in the world. He will literally sniff out trouble around you, and keep you safe.

If you’re just dealing with someone who won’t take no for an answer at a bar or party, he’s putting a hand on your waist and glaring the person down. If they refuse to back down, he’s getting in their face and using his intimidation to make them. After that, claws are coming out, bub.

Now, on missions it’s a different story. He knows that you can take care of yourself, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to keep you away from harm. But if Logan sees that you’re getting overwhelmed or in trouble, he’s on his way over as fast as lightning. He is dispatching of the enemy with fierce vengeance.

Logan wouldn’t need nor want you to protect him physically. That’s his job and he will stand by it. However protecting his mind and heart is the only job he wants you to have. By providing him shelter when his own mind betrays him, it protects him during a vulnerable time.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates really depend. If you’re an X-Man and going on missions, your date nights and anniversaries are at the liberty of whenever you are home from missions. If you’re not, he usually has an easier time of planning things for your dates. Regardless, he will usually plan casual dates nights for the most part. Every once in a while he will take you out on the town for dinner and a movie, or a night of drinking and dancing. But most of the time, he’s just having a dinner prepped or gotten take out, and a movie pulled up on the tv.

Logan loves to silently spoil you. He will never make a huge fuss about gifts he gives you. And they’re always practical in some fashion. He gets you a new coffee mug with your favorite character on it but he’s scratched your name into the bottom so no one can take it. Or a new set of personal defense weapons that won’t trigger metal detectors but still pack a punch.

            Like I said before, his love language is acts of service. You need your car fixed? He’s got it purring like a lambo. You need laundry done? You’ve got new clothes in your dressers, plus some of his flannel and tank tops so you can have his clothes and scents around you. This lovable man will preform mundane tasks without being asks because he wants you to know he loves you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Going cold and silent for no good reason is a big one. It’s so easy for him to revert to his old ways but he does try to work on it. After a long day though, he just wants a beer and a silent, dreamless sleep. So, it’s difficult for him to open up and talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him on a day like this. Thus, leading to the withdrawal.

I feel like another would be his ability to overreact. If Scott asks you to join him on a mission, or even how one went that he wasn’t on, Logan is just about growling at the man. But anyone he views as a threat to you, he’s not liking one bit which tends to lead to the man to growling, snapping, and even the claws coming out.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Logan is not all too concerned with how he looks. He does his hair but that’s about it. Like, other than that, he just genuinely doesn’t care. This is a mutant with the ability to heal near instantly. I can’t reiterate how much he doesn’t care.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

The further you get into your relationship, the more he feels like he can’t live without you. It’s something he gets hit with all at once. It’s part of why he’s so protective over you, even if you have a healing factor. He’s terrified to lose you once he truly loves you deeply within his soul. When he can’t be near you, he’s counting down the minutes till he can remedy that. If he ever lost you, if you died or left him in some other way, there would be nothing left to keep the animal in check.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Logan loves you playing with his hair and pampering him. Does he understand the difference between a physical exfoliant and a chemical one? Absolutely not. But he loves having you use whatever it is on him. When his day is super rough, he’ll stay silent as he lets you lead him face down on the bed. Getting massages on those days are amazing because he swears that your hands can feel what is wrong and get it out. He’s letting you wash his face, put weird creams on him, all the while he’s got a fluffy headband on. And once you’re done with the skincare, the head massage that follows? Oh, he feels the stress of everything wash away. There is nothing that clears the rage and foul feelings better than a little pampering session.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I don’t know why, but he strikes me as a texture guy. Not on his skin, but in the food he eats. Like he won’t eat certain foods because they make odd textures in his mouth. He also just likes simple foods, so that could be a reason.

In a partner though, he wouldn’t appreciate someone trying to change him, or that would pry too deep. Let me explain. Logan knows what he is, a rehabilitated animal that tries to do his best. And he doesn’t want anyone else telling him that he isn’t. It’s not a matter of that he can’t shake the image that he spent so long with, but rather that he can still feel it inside his being every time those claws come out.

In that same vein, he doesn’t want someone that asks too many questions that he doesn’t have the answers to nor wants to give. If he wakes up from a nightmare where he uncovers new memories, he’ll decide in time to share that with you. You have to let him go at his own pace otherwise you’ll spook him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

On his back, straight as a board, blankets around his chest, while he’s alone. If you’re spending the night, he’ll either fall asleep with you on his chest with hm on his back, or with his back to the door and on his side with you in his arms. Also, I don’t care what anyone says, this man has the cutest baby snores ever. Sounding like a baby bear in bed and now it’s your own form of white noise. It’s so difficult for you to fall asleep without it.

[prettypumpum]

Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?

Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence,

Word count: 1,031

"I'll be back on Monday! No funny business, no parties, and the pizza money is in the drawer by the hallway!" Wade shouted, slamming the car door before walking away.

"Finally," Logan muttered, his gaze still fixed on the windshield, his face impassive.

I glanced at Laura in the rearview mirror. Even if he'd never admit it, Logan enjoyed Wade and his antics in his own way.

"So, how’s it going at the Institute?" I asked Laura, hoping to break the heavy silence.

“It’s fine,” she replied, stopping at a red light, her eyes glued to the road.

Logan eventually broke the silence, almost reluctantly. “It’s a good place. They can help you settle in.”

“You guys are welcome too,” she retorted as the light turned green. “They could help you with your powers. Besides, they’re short-staffed. They could use someone to handle a bunch of teens… especially teens with superpowers,” she added, casting a pointed look at Logan.

He clenched his jaw. “That’s all behind me.”

In the rearview mirror, I saw Laura’s face fall slightly, as if she regretted bringing it up. A bitter silence settled, heavy with memories. I knew that as soon as we got dropped off, Logan would probably head straight to a bar to forget.

“How about we order a pizza?” I suggested to the two mutants in the front, hoping to lighten the mood.

They glanced back at me in the mirror, a fleeting smile on their faces.

A few hours later, we were all sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes scattered on the coffee table.

“Comedy or horror?” Laura asked, the remote in one hand and a slice of pineapple pizza in the other.

“Put on whatever you want,” Logan replied, cracking open another beer.

She looked at me for my opinion, and I just shrugged with a smile, content with the relaxed vibe. She scrolled through the options on the screen. Beside me, Logan was relaxed, his dark eyes fixed on the TV. The white T-shirt he was wearing suited him surprisingly well, and I could feel his arm brushing against mine, an innocent but electrifying touch.

With each quick glance at him, memories of the bar came back to me, and I found myself imagining what might have happened if Wade hadn’t interrupted us. These thoughts wrapped me in a warm haze.

Finally, Laura settled on a horror movie. *Scream*, a classic, perfect for a pizza night. But I was having a hard time focusing. My attention kept drifting back to Logan, sitting so close.

“These kids are so stupid,” Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer.

“That’s what everyone says watching horror movies, but I’m not sure teenage me would’ve done any better,” I replied, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Between rehearsals and dance classes, I barely had time to sleep. Killing someone… well, that was even less likely.”

He smirked. “That explains so much.”

"Right? So, tell us about teenage you in Canada, back when there was no electricity or running water," I teased with a playful smile.

Laura was watching us, a smile on her face, finding our exchange more interesting than the movie. Logan and I exchanged a few knowing smiles before she stood up.

“I’m gonna grab a soda,” she said, slipping into the kitchen and leaving us alone in this intimate moment.

"She’s great," I said, watching the door she had just disappeared through.

“Yeah,” he replied, his face hardening, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey,” I said, placing my hand on his, reminding him of our promise from the bar.

He looked up at me, surprised. “I’m okay,” he murmured. “But… sometimes, it all just gets to be too much.”

I nodded, feeling the depth of his unease.

“I know.” My thumb brushed his hand softly. His gaze, dark and intense, held secrets he dared not share.

I looked up, and our eyes met. His usually guarded stare softened, revealing fatigue and invisible scars. He broke the silence, his voice low:

“It’s rare… to feel this good.”

He squeezed my hand gently, as if to reassure himself that this moment was real.

Our gazes locked, the silence between us loaded with unspoken emotions. I felt almost trembling under his look. Logan, usually so distant, was looking at me differently, with a glimmer I’d never noticed before.

“Hey,” Laura said, coming back from the kitchen and breaking the spell between Logan and me. “Sorry, but I have to go,” she announced, holding up her phone.

“Everything okay?” Logan asked, his face concerned.

“Yeah, I totally forgot my friend Taylor was supposed to help me with my shopping.”

Logan nodded with a murmur, but his skepticism was clear. “Take some pizza with you; there’s too much for the two of us,” I said, quickly getting up to pack some for her.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing the boxes. “Tonight was fun… we should do it again sometime.” I nodded, smiling, holding the door open for her as she struggled with the boxes. “See you soon.”

Logan and I, now alone, stood there, our eyes fixed on the closed door for a moment. “That was a lie, right?” Logan asked.

“You never lied to go see your crush?” I shot back with a mischievous smile.

“So, you were one of those bad girls who lied to mess with boys?” he replied, his intense gaze locked onto mine.

My breathing quickened, my body warming. My breath was short; I wanted nothing more than to throw myself at him and kiss him.

“I… I need to go to the laundry room,” I said, unable to hold his gaze any longer, using the excuse of a basket of dirty laundry left out.

He nodded, seeming to collect himself, and watched me pick up the basket as I fled. “I’ll take a shower,” he said as I darted out of the apartment.

When I got to the hallway, I realized I’d forgotten the detergent in my hurry. Returning to the apartment, I walked straight into Logan, shirtless, coming out of the bathroom.

“Sorry… I forgot the…” I was unable to look away from his hairy chest and toned muscles.

[imaginesforfandom]

A Wolverine's Heartache - Part II

Part I Part II

Logan/James Howlett x Reader

She/Her Pronouns

Summary: The Sentinel battle takes a turn for the worst causing Logan to lose someone dear to him.

Before the Sentinels descended upon them, there had been a quiet undercurrent of tension between Logan and Y/N, an unspoken dynamic that lingered beneath the surface of their friendship. The Xavier Institute, a haven for mutants, had become a place where emotions and connections were heightened, but not always openly acknowledged.

Logan and Y/N had shared moments of camaraderie, their friendship deepening over time. Yet, a subtle dance of longing and hesitation played out between them, unnoticed by others but felt in the quiet glances and stolen smiles. Each held a key to the other's heart, but the lock remained unturned.

In the tranquil moments before the storm, Y/N often found herself stealing glances at Logan, a flutter of uncertainty in her chest. She admired his strength, both physical and emotional, and valued the camaraderie they shared. Yet, there was an unspoken desire for something more, a connection that hovered in the uncharted territory between friendship and something deeper.

Logan, too, grappled with his own conflicting emotions. He had always been a lone wolf, accustomed to the solitude of his own thoughts. However, Y/N's presence had become a soothing balm to his restless soul. There were times when he caught himself staring at her, a vulnerability in his gaze that betrayed the unspoken depths of his feelings.

Their interactions were laced with a delicate balance, a dance around unexplored territories. A brush of hands during training, a shared moment of laughter by the fireplace – each encounter left an indelible mark on their hearts, pushing them closer to a truth neither was ready to confront.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle with the Sentinels unfolded in a crescendo of chaos and destruction. The ominous hum of their massive metal bodies echoed through the war-torn landscape as the mutants of the Xavier Institute rallied to fend off the relentless onslaught.

The sky crackled with energy as Storm unleashed her powers, attempting to create a barrier against the relentless advance of the towering machines. Colossus, his metallic form glinting in the harsh light, clashed with the Sentinels in a display of brute strength. Cyclops fired optic blasts with precision, desperately trying to hold the line.

Amidst the chaos, Logan moved like a feral blur, his adamantium claws slicing through the mechanical monstrosities with unmatched ferocity. The air was filled with the acrid scent of burning metal and the distant cries of mutants in peril.

Y/N fought valiantly alongside the team, her powers contributing to the defense, but the fear of being overshadowed by the more powerful mutants gnawed at her. In the midst of the mayhem, she kept glancing towards Logan, seeking reassurance, but his attention was consumed by the battle.

As the Sentinels closed in, a momentary distraction led to a tragic turn of events. Y/N found herself isolated for a brief second, and in that moment of vulnerability, a Sentinel seized the opportunity. A deafening scream pierced the air as Y/N was ensnared in its metallic grip.

Logan, several yards away, sensed the danger too late. His instincts kicked in, and he sprinted towards Y/N with an urgency that defied the chaos around him. With a primal roar, he lunged at the Sentinel, claws slashing through its armored exterior. The metallic giant released its grip, but the damage was done.

Time seemed to slow as Y/N crumpled to the ground, Logan catching her in his arms. The battle raged on, but in that harrowing moment, everything faded into the background. Logan's heart pounded as he held Y/N, the world collapsing around them as her life slipped away.

Logan's world shattered as he held Y/N's lifeless form in his arms. Time seemed to freeze, and the chaos of the battle faded into a distant murmur. The weight of grief pressed down on him like an unrelenting force, threatening to consume him whole.

In that agonizing moment, Logan's senses, normally keen and alert, dulled to the outside world. The smell of burning metal, the distant clashes of mutant powers, and the acrid taste of despair in the air became distant echoes. All that remained was the profound silence that accompanied Y/N's departure from the living.

Logan's heart, usually a steady rhythm amidst the storm, now pounded with a raw, aching intensity. His hands trembled as he cradled Y/N's lifeless body, unable to comprehend the reality of her absence. The world around him blurred, and tears – a rare expression of vulnerability – welled up in his eyes.

Regret and guilt gnawed at Logan's soul. If only he had been quicker, more vigilant. If only he had protected her better. The weight of responsibility bore down on him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed the one person who had silently meant more to him than he had ever admitted.

A guttural, primal scream tore from Logan's throat, reverberating through the battlefield. It was a scream of anguish, of a grief so profound that it echoed the depths of his soul. In that moment, the Wolverine, known for his stoic demeanor and unyielding strength, crumbled under the weight of loss.

As Logan clung to Y/N's lifeless body, the reality of her absence sank in, leaving him stranded in a sea of sorrow. The battlefield continued to rage around him, but in his world, everything had come to a standstill. The connection he had shared with Y/N, the unspoken bond that had grown between them, was now a painful void that threatened to engulf him entirely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! this made my heart break :,( i just wanna give him a real big hug now

[calif0rnia-lovers]

heartbeats - prologue.

series masterlist

pairing: joaquin torres x mutant!reader

sum: When a highly sought-after mutant's safe house is compromised, Sam Wilson entrusts her protection to the unassuming Lieutenant Joaquin Torres. Tasked with transporting her to a rendezvous point, Joaquin is unaware of the full extent of her importance. Convincing her he's the man for the job proves to be a difficult task.

“You’re not getting her.”

“Do you realize the kind of shit your friend got you into?” Kane taunted. "Huh? I bet he didn't even tell you what she can do."

Kane’s dark chuckle echoed ominously through the town square, an unsettling contrast to the distant sounds of the festival you and Joaquin had escaped.

A memory flashed in Joaquin’s mind, a brief but intense exchange with Sam Wilson merely a week and half ago.

Sam studied Joaquin's face. For the first time, in the time he'd known him, Joaquin was silent. His focus, not spent on studying your file but, on your picture.

“So…she's a mutant. Like Wolverine?” Joaquin had asked, his voice edged with concern.

“It's complicated," Sam had replied, shaking his head. “She’s—there’s no one like her.”

“What’s that mean?” Joaquin pressed, seeking clarity. Trying to find answers in the pair of innocent eyes looking back at him. In your hastily taken photo you appeared normal.

Sam had sighed deeply, his gaze serious. “Can’t say.”

“Come on, man. You can trust me,” Joaquin had urged. "I'm not gonna tell anyone--"

“I know, kid. And I do. That’s why you’re the only one I’ve asked to do this. But the less you know, about her abilities, the better.”

The memory dissolved as Joaquin refocused, his gun shifting with precision to point directly at Kane’s heart. The muzzle gleamed ominously in the dim light.

“I know she's important, and you can't take her," Joaquin challenged. "Just like I know if you take one more step in her direction, a bullet's coming. I'll empty the entire clip if I have to."

Kane studied Joaquin with a dismissive tilt of his head, a sneer playing at his lips. To anyone who glanced quickly, Joaquin might have seemed inexperienced, but his eyes burned with a fierce determination that belied his appearance.

"You're willing to stake your life on the words of Sam Wilson?" Kane scoffed, motioning around tbe quickly emptying time square. "A man who isn't even here to help you protect her?"

“For her,” Joaquin said, his voice cold and unwavering, “I’ll stake my life, and lay you down, for good.”

The man’s grin widened, and he whistled sharply. The sound sliced through the tension like a sinister signal, prompting more figures to emerge from the shadows. Their faces were obscured, wearing masks similar to Kane's, but their intentions were clear.

Joaquin stepped back once, his movements precise, and you followed, your hand pressing firmly against his back. He shifted a second time, and then a third. Until cold stone met your shoulders. He had you positioned against the wall, giving him a clear vantage point to monitor every angle and anticipate any surprise.

"Stay behind me, no matter what happens," Joaquin ordered, his voice low. "Understand?"

He didn't leave room for a response. For once, in the time you've been together, there was not a protest.

Joaquin’s grip on his gun tightened, his entire stance radiating unyielding resolve. The square seemed to constrict around you, but amid the chaos, you felt a strange calm, knowing Joaquin was resolute in his defense.

“Last chance,” Kane chuckled, eyes drifting to his soldiers waiting to pounce. "You don't know who you're dealing with, kid."

Joaquin’s finger tightened on the trigger, his eyes locked on the man with piercing intensity. “Neither do you.”

Kane motioned for his men to advance, a cold smile curving his lips. Joaquin’s gaze remained locked on Kane, despite the figures rushing your way, his resolve unshakable.

Kane’s eyes narrowed as he took a deliberate step forward, Joaquin’s gun fired with a sharp, decisive crack.

[a-leg-without-fear]

Sneak Peek🩸🌧️

this is a sneak peek of my HUGE fic coming out on halloween!!!

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader🩸

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 507

Warnings: choking, blood, violence, mind control, knives

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

The hedges rustled a few yards away. You froze in place, heart beating a mile a minute. Your knees audibly clicked as you crouched against the hedge. Wincing quietly, you kept your attention focused on the source of the noise. Whatever it was, whether it be friend or foe, it was growing closer. Animalistic grunts and snuffles filtered through the gaps in the bushes. Your knife, with the blood filled pommel, was nearly silent as you slid it free from its sheath. The steel blade glinted silver in the moonlight. You gripped it tight in your fist. Adrenaline pumped under your skin as you readied for the creature just on the other side of this hedge. Another grunt, almost pained, came from around the bend as the leaves rustled against your back. The sound reached you like a coughed groan. It was strange, but it almost sounded... familiar? A thick, leather boot planted in the mud to your right. You plastered yourself to the hedge, making your body as small as possible, as you peered up at the owner of the boot through wide eyes. Dark hair coated its head in styled tufts. Narrowed, almost feral eyes surveyed the space across from you. Pointed canines poked out over a wary grimace. Logan. It was Logan! He was a little roughed up, suit tattered and stained with God knew what, but he was alive. Unharmed, breathing, shadow looming over you like a tall mountain. "Hey!" you whisper-shouted, using the hedge to pull you to your feet. Relief flooded your mind like a summer breeze. You weren't alone anymore. Logan and you could work together to find an exit, reach the others, and get the hell out of here. You squeaked when a thick hand wrapped around your throat. The digits dug painfully into your sensitive skin, blocking your airways, making you grip desperately at Logan's sleeve. A second hand joined the first. Sharp branches dug into your exposed skin as he pushed you against the hedge. His eyes... How had you not noticed before? The usual hazel gleam was clouded in murky white. All life and laughter was devoid from his furious glare. Logan snarled, grip impossibly tightening on your neck. "Logan! Please!" you wheezed breathlessly. Your poor, overworked lungs shriveled inside your chest. The edges of your vision started to fade. In a last ditch effort, you swung the knife still in your hand. The blade sliced through the flesh of his face. Blood shot from the wound in thick spurts as he lurched away. Crisp air filled your mind with clarity as you heaved, Logan's hands clutching at where the tip of his nose used to be. "I'm sorry," you rasped, voice nothing more than a cough. The Wolverine straightened to his full height. He towered over you, head tilted as he cracked his neck, flesh filling itself in record time. Every bit the terrifying predator that lurked deep in his subconscious. As soon as his lifeless eyes fell open, there was no evidence of your attack. Just a splash of crimson below his left, white eye.

i'm so fricking excited for this fic. y'all have NO idea. SO MUCH WORK has gone into this. hours of research, planning, drafting, editing, making a COVER. i'm SO frickin proud of it :)

taglist: @just-a-nightdreamer @www-interludeshadow-com @lemurianstarship @ripleyswife @venomqueen2002 @amphitrite-5 @yarrystyleeza @c1eepypas1a @theestorm

Want to be on the taglist? Fill out this form!

[byhuenii]

MASTER ☆ LIST !

(IMPORTANT) request are closed because i get behind in A LOT of them so…this is actually my second account my other got shadow-banned so for aib stuff go to @surshica a lot of my works are there..

you can leave stuff in my inbox as inspo but there won’t be a 100% chance i’ll make it INTO a oneshot or fanfic. i’m currently busy with school so i update whenever i’m free. i want to enjoy this and not be stressed over this so PLEASE DONT DEMAND !!

(READ) read the rules if you don’t i can tell, unless you came from my other account i would know. READ IT BC IS SOSOSO IMPORTANT !!

i type in lowercase a lot so be warned. i try to keep my works safe but there can still be thirsty thoughts, not actually smut tho.

(NOTICE) if i have a show you like here and your fav isn’t in the list it might because i don’t know how to write them or im not really interested. you can still ask it’ll be a 5050 on if i can write them if not i can do blurbs and imagines AT MOST.

user byhuenii specializes in fluff crack slow burns and slice of life. not the best at angst (☆)

(main masterlist !☆)

alice in borderland/aib , wolverine , jujutsu kaisen , (more tba. . .)

(au masterlist. . .☆)

street racer!gojo satoru, idol sorcerer!reader x gojo satoru,  (more tba. . .)

. . .resources 1 2 3 4 ! music recs ! abt me ! prims library !. . .

[wonst0n]

hi everyone! you can call me wonton/wyn :3 i love writing and making art!! requests are OPEN! feel free to dm, send in an ask or req anything :D

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆

i will make: ✧ fluff, angst, slice-of-life, hurt/comfort ✧ gore, mild suggestive themes ✧ genderbends, any kind of AU ✧ ships, x readers, or anything silly!

i won't make: > heavy nsfw > real people + actors

my fandoms i make art/write for: ✦ scream (movies) ✦ avatar: the way of water ✦ deadpool/wolverine ✦ x-men!! ✦ avatar: the last airbender ✦ dc/batfam ✦ the maze runner ✦ teen wolf

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆

masterlist below the cut!

✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ✦: headcanons✩: writing

> Scream ✦ autistic billy loomis

> Avatar ✩ nothing yet!

> ATLA ✩ nothing yet!

> X-Men Universe • beach bum bandits (wade/logan, gen) - wade and logan rent scooters on holiday and cause a disaster.

> DC ✩ nothing yet!

> Teen Wolf ✩ nothing yet!

> The Maze Runner ✩ nothing yet!

> miscellaneous • stuff i liked about bullet train (2022) - just some rambles i made while picking apart details from this movie :3 • top gun characters as things my friends have said in art club - compiled the weird things my friends said/texted in a group chat and assigned them to top gun characters • avatar na'vi biology rambles - i'm afraid i can't defend myself on this one.