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#Logan Howlett x reader fluff
loving-barnes · 19 days
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LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME
A/N: New Wolverine one-shot. I tried and... I don't know. I like the beginning and then it's like.. okay? Let me know your thoughts.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: I have decided not to give proper warnings. I don't want to spoil the story. BUT please, only 18+. Minors DNI.
Words: 4000+
Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine (so he's tall!)
FULL MASTERLIST
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LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME
Everyone was looking for her - Magneto’s brotherhood, the X-men, the Avengers and god knows who else. They all wanted her - for good, for bad, to use or to kill. She became the biggest threat in a matter of seconds. That’s why Logan had to be the one to find her first.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her for months. She was sneaky, using her power to hide from the whole world, even from him. Leaving the continent would be too risky. She had to stay in the States, right? Maybe Canada? 
It all happened so fast. There was a moment where he questioned everything. In the end, he wanted to fight for her… with her. Was there still a chance he’d find her? She could be anywhere. Surprisingly, Logan never lost hope. 
One day, Logan got a tip from some random skanky woman who approached him in a New York dive bar. He was drinking his daily dose of whisky, head lost in thoughts. He had her picture, looking at it. Such an innocent yet powerful being. His heart ached.
“I know her,” the woman approached him out of nowhere. She leaned against the bar, smiling. Her eyes were locked on the photo. “Pretty girl.” 
Logan’s eyes found hers, frowning. “Where is she?” he asked angrily. 
She chuckled. “Now hang on, sugar,” she sat next to him, exposing her long smooth legs. The miniskirt didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Logan’s eyes travelled from her legs, all the way up to her face, but he was not interested. “How about a drink first?”
He reached for his drink. It went down his throat in a second. He smashed the glass against the bar, shattering it. His eyes darkened. The adamantium claws got out, pressing them against the woman’s throat. Logan was not in a mood to play around.
People gasped. They were afraid. A mutant in a bar threatening other humans was unacceptable. Guns were loaded and pointed at him. Logan didn’t care. 
The woman yelped. Fear crept into her eyes. “Tell me where she is or you won’t be able to see the sun rise again,” his voice was low, intimidating. 
“S-strip club, down the street,” she managed to get out of her throat. Her body was visibly shaking. “I saw her there. She was there an hour ago. P-please, don’t hurt me.” 
He didn’t say anything. The claws retracted back under his skin. Logan was out of the bar in seconds, heading down the street to the club where the woman said she spotted the one he was looking for. His heart beat fast. Was he finally about to get her? It’s been months. 
Everyone wanted the most powerful mutant on the planet. Some wanted to use her, others wanted to destroy her. Logan wanted to get to her sooner than the rest of the world. All he desired was to protect her.
She’s more powerful than Jean ever was, said Charles to him not long ago. They didn’t have a name for her. No one knew where her power reached, or what her limits were. Jean’s dark side was destroyed with the help of the Scarlett Witch. With Y/N, they didn’t know what to expect. Was she worse than the Dark Phoenix? 
Expect the unexpected, said Charles to Logan once he decided to bring her back.
Logan’s eyes locked on the big pink neon sign of the strip club. He sighed. Of course, she would hide somewhere in plain sight. Who would try to find a woman like her in a place like this? She was the kindest teacher. Innocence was her second name. Everyone would expect her to flee the country, or hide in the mountains. No, she hid under their noses in the city that never sleeps.
Expect the unexpected. Well, shit, he didn’t expect this at all. 
He entered the club. The heavy smell of cigarettes and sweet perfumes hit his nose. The lights were flashing as the girls kept dancing around the poles. They slowly undressed for the crowd of hungry eyes. Men were holding bills in their hands, roaring and whistling, ready to throw them at the women.
Drinks were poured into glasses and onto women’s exposed breasts. Some wished to lick them, to feel their flesh and alcohol on their tongues. 
Some ladies brushed their hands against Logan’s shoulders and arms to get his attention. The fake smiles and lustful gazes did nothing for him. They talked to him and tried to seduce him. He remained focused on his goal. His eyes travelled around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N. 
Flashes of images hit his mind. He remembered it all - the laughs, the drinks, the simple days back in the X-mansion. The day when their lips first touched, he knew he was a goner. 
Logan huffed, anger rising inside of him. Would she sell her body to all those creeps in here? Would she dance for them to make money? The thought of other men touching her body made his blood boil. Logan was sure that if he saw a man touching a piece of Y/N’s skin, he would slice his arm with his claws. 
There was no sign of her. Was the woman from the bar lying to him? Was this a trap? Logan’s fists clenched. He had to be careful. Even a place like this could be dangerous. God knows who’d own this place. 
Somewhere in the haze, he noticed the familiar eyes watching him. Their colours sparkled in the flashing lights. She was like a goddess, walking around the mist and colours with her long satin robe flying around her. Logan could smell her from afar. The scent was overpowering his senses. 
One blink, she was gone. Was he hallucinating? He sighed. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Or was it her?
Logan.
Her voice rang in his ears. He could smell her more as if she was closer than before. Logan’s body twisted and turned, trying to find her in the crowd. He was sure she was here, watching him like a hawk. 
There was a lingering touch on his shoulder. It moved from one side of the shoulder to the other, fingers lightly pressed against his flannel shirt. He could feel the electric touch that belonged to her. 
 “Y/N,” he breathed her name. No one would be able to hear him over the loud music. “Stop the games.” 
He heard a group of women laugh. His eyes moved to them. They gave lap dances to some businessmen. Their hands were all over their bodies.  
Again, his nose caught Y/N’s scent. It was so close, closer than before. When his eyes looked forward, he could see her in her full glory. He cursed. Was he supposed to be aroused or upset?
First, he noticed the exposed legs and high heels on her feet. Then there was the dazzling dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her breasts were about to pop out of that damn outfit. And then there was the damn satin robe. Fuck! Her dress was provocative. Compared to the other strippers, Y/N was wearing more than the rest of the ladies in the club. 
What happened to the woman who radiated pure innocence? This was someone else, someone new. Did she have a dark side that decided to wake up from its slumber?
Still, his jeans felt tighter than before. 
His legs moved towards her. Logan got through the dancing women who tried to reach for him some more. They wanted a piece of him. When was the last time a man like him walked into a place like this? His eyes and mind were only on one woman. 
“Don’t run,” he said to himself. He knew Y/N would hear his words. 
Logan knew the game wasn’t over when he heard laughter inside his head. He was close until he wasn’t. She was gone once again. “Dammit, Y/N. Stop this.” 
Again, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. This time they pushed him down. His ass ended on something soft, comfortable. It was a chair. Where did that come from? 
“Want a dance?” He felt a hot breath close to his ear. The touch remained. Logan knew this wasn’t a trick. She was behind him. “I can help you relax.”
Logan had enough of her shit. He swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. He was impatient. Her face appeared in front of his. He lost his breath for a second. The red lips, the glitter in her hair… he wanted to devour her. There was a smirk plastered on her face. 
“Strip club?” Logan growled. “What the fuck?” 
Y/N lazily climbed on his lap, pressing her core onto his forming erection. She bit her lower lip and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter, Lo’? Don’t you want to have some fun?” she titled her head, raising a brow. 
He gritted his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you for months,” he said, angry. “And I find you here? Of all places?” 
“It’s good, isn’t it?” she blinked a few times. “Who would have thought that little ol’ me would hide here?” 
His hands gripped her hips tightly. He inhaled her sweet perfume. He needed to get straight to the point before he’d lost his mind. “Why did ya run?”
Y/N glared at him. “What kind of a stupid question is that?” she pushed her body from his a little. She had to get a better look at him. “All of you turned against me. One mishap and I became the villain.” 
Y/N’s mutation evolved into something no one has ever seen before. It brought the attention of other groups that wanted her neck, or power. The Professor admitted she represented something beyond explanation. Inhuman was the word he used? It was new, dangerous. Fingers were pointed, threats had been made. Everyone pushed until she ran from the X-mansion and left everything behind. Now everyone was after her - the X-men, the Avengers and Magneto. Fuck, she even heard that the government wanted her. God knows how many organisations and bounty hunters were trying to get her. Rewards were made. The numbers had seven figures or more. 
Logan’s eyes widen. One of his hands sneaked behind her neck, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t.”
“Fuck, right,” she rolled her eyes. “When you found out what I could do, you stepped away. I can remember the betrayal in your eyes. Or was it fear? Were you afraid, Logan?” her nose brushed against his. “Were you scared of me or this?” she pointed between them. And then, she pushed away from him. 
His right hand gripped Y/N’s hair and pulled on it, exposing her neck. Logan pressed his nose to it, inhaling her sweet scent. “Don’t ever say shit like that,” he threatened. “I was never scared of what was going between us.” 
Y/N moved her head and pressed her lips to his ear. “Or did you realise you still wanted Jean?” She hit a sensitive spot. There was a history between Jean and Logan. Y/N knew damn well nothing ever happened between them. The redhead’s eyes were only on Scott. And yet, she had to dig into it. 
Logan’s hand moved to her neck, squeezing it. He made her look at him. Even in the dim lights, his eyes darkened. He hated those words that had escaped those pretty red lips. “Stop it,” he growled. “You mean more to me than she ever did.”
Y/N rolled her hips slowly, grinding on his noticeable bulge. Logan moaned with every movement she did. The grip on her throat never loosened. With the flashing lights and changing colours, the tension between them thickened. 
“You are lying,” she challenged him. 
He squinted at her. “You know damn well I don’t lie, princess.” 
Y/N grabbed him by his stupid flannel shirt from all the irritation. “You never reached for me after everything that went to shit!” 
“You destroyed a skyscraper in New York,” he told her with a calmer tone. “A fucking skyscraper. Your mutation evolved with a snap of the fingers. No wonder the shock, the fear or everyone’s need to get their hands on you.” Logan pulled her face closer to his. Their lips almost touching. “Before I could collect my thoughts, process what the fuck had happened and get to you, you ran away.” 
She squinted at him. “You pulled away from me,” she blamed him. 
“I didn’t,” he tightened the grip on her throat. She moaned. “I’ve been looking for you for months - months! You think I’d do that if I pulled away? Do you think I’d pick Jean over you? Don’t think so little of me, princess.” 
A rain of flashing lights started. Logan had the perfect chance to see her face. The red lips, the sparkle in her eyes. He saw the whole universe in them. 
“Why here?” he had to ask. “Of all places, why did you hide here?” 
She showed him her bright smile. “You’d never expect a good girl hiding in a place like this. It kinda worked.” 
And then she snapped her fingers. The people around them stopped moving. They became living statues. The music kept going, the lights still flickered and changed. Logan’s eyes widened. His head moved from side to side. Powerful, that’s what Y/N was. And beautiful. Sexy. Dangerous. Good. Her heart was still good. He had to believe.
Waves of anger flashed through his body. It was still a play. If she wanted to play, he would obey - under his rules. “Tell me, baby girl,” the hand from her throat slid down to her breasts. The other hand joined. They squeezed them through the fabric. It made her hips roll some more. “Did you let any of the guys here touch you?” he tilted his head. 
Her head tilted back as she enjoyed his big hands on her chest. His nose found her pulse on her neck, pressing his lips to it. He sucked a mark on her neck. “Baby girl, you are mine and only mine,” he growled into her ear. 
“What makes you think I’m yours?” she tried to fight back.
“If I was anyone else, you’d use all your powers to get rid of me. Maybe even kill me. You didn’t,” he stated.
“I’d never kill anyone for fun, Logan,” she said. “You know that damn well.” She leaned closer to his face. “I’d never hurt you.” 
Their lips met in a kiss that brought colours to their minds. Each colour represented a different plea. I miss you. I need you. I want you. I love you. It was messy, it was sweet. Their tongues danced and explored. It was needy, it was deep. It’s been months since they last shared a passionate kiss. 
It brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. As much as she wanted to be strong, in front of him, she couldn’t. He was like a home she never had. Her heart ached that she had to leave him. But what was there to do when they all turned against her? She believed Logan did too. 
Logan felt he was falling. Everything around him felt light. And then his back fell onto something soft. The chair under his ass was gone. He grunted, breaking the kiss. There was a bed under his body. “What the shit?” he was confused. “Where are we?” 
“Champagne room,” said Y/N who sat on top of him, still fully clothed. The only thing missing was the satin robe. “For some privacy.” 
He raised a brow. “And here I thought you’d wanted to give those living statues a show.” That’s when he heard laughter from behind the walls. The people were moving again. 
Y/N’s thumb swiped over Logan’s lips. They were stained from the red lipstick she wore. Before she retracted it, he pressed a kiss to it. “Since when did you learn to teleport?” he asked. “Last time I checked, you didn’t know how to do half of what you did today.” 
“Just a mind trick, no teleportation,” she said. 
Logan wrapped his arms around her waist and abruptly jumped on his feet. He held her tightly until he smashed her back against the nearest wall. She lost her breath for a moment. “I’m not fucking you on that disgusting bed. God knows how many people fucked on it before us.” 
“Shame,” she shrugged. “I thought you liked it dirty.” Y/N’s legs clenched around his waist. 
Logan’s lips were back on hers in a hungry kiss. When one of his hands reached down to her covered heath, she moaned into his mouth. “There’s the pretty sound,” he chuckled. His lips moved to her neck where he kissed and nibbled on her skin until he left another mark there. That’s when his fingers found the strap of her thong, ripping it off her in one harsh pull. 
He looked into her eyes, grinning like a devil. “I can feel how wet you are for me, pretty girl.” His middle finger had buried deep inside of her. “Did other men make you this wet?” 
Y/N whined. “I’d never let any other man touch me, Logan,” she confessed. 
He tilted his head. This time, two fingers slipped inside of her, fucking her with them. “Then why hide in a strip club?” He curled his finger, hitting a sweet spot. 
“Ah! I knew no one would ever come looking for me here,” she gasped every time his fingers brushed against the place that made her toes curl. “Fuck, fuck!” 
“Is that so?” he kept questioning her.
She tried to swallow the moans. “I’ve protected the girls from the perves,” she cried. 
“God, you are dripping.” His fingers left her core and went straight to his mouth, tasting her. “Pretty princess, you taste divine,” he smirked. Immediately, his lips pressed against her in a messy kiss. 
His body pressed hers even more onto the wall as one of his free hands went to his jeans to get out his painfully hard dick. He pressed the tip against her entrance, pushing it slowly in. 
“Ah, shit,” she cursed. Her mouth was wide open as she felt every inch of him. 
Once he bottomed out, his lips kissed her gently. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are,” he praised. 
“Logan,” she moaned his name. “Please, fuck me.” 
He pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in. “Since you asked so nicely,” and he thrust back into her, making her squeal. She clenched around his cock with every move he made. “Doing so good, princess,” he praised her. “Taking me so well.”
It was fast, intense. Before she knew it, Y/N felt her orgasm approaching. One of his hands was already between their bodies, circling her clit. “Fuck, so close,” she mumbled incoherently. “Logan… Logan, please…” 
“Hold it, Y/N,” he ordered. “I’m almost there too.” 
“I… c-can’t,” she whined. Tears appeared in her eyes. The pleasure was surprisingly intense. Many feelings wanted to burst out into the open. Their lips pressed together in a sloppy kiss. He kept pounding into her as they tried to swallow each other’s moans.
What if this was for the last time? What if this would be their goodbye?
Her insides clenched around his cock as she reached her peak. Her breath quickened. She became a moaning mess while he kept fucking her through her orgasm. 
“I’m gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he announced, staring into her eyes. His breath got lost as the release came, painting the insides of her walls white. The thrusts slowed down until he remained buried inside of her while his cum slowly dripped down his dick. 
Logan’s eyes found hers in a post-orgasmic haze. “So pretty,” he grinned. He watched as she tried to catch her breath. “My beautiful baby girl.”
Slowly, he pulled out of her. Y/N gasped once she felt empty. Carefully, Logan pulled her from the wall and put her legs on the floor. He held her tightly. “Fuck,” she cursed. 
“You good?” he asked. 
Her eyes lifted, meeting his. She smiled at him. “Yes,” she nodded. 
Logan put back his jeans while she fixed her already short, slutty dress. There was silence. With each passing second, it got heavier and more awkward. 
“I love you,” Logan confessed his feelings. One of his hands reached for her cheek, stroking it with a thumb. “I love you, princess. Goddammit, I fucking love you.” 
Her eyes kept scanning his face. These words were never said before. This was new. Y/N’s heart wanted to burst from Logan’s confession. Now that he reciprocated the feelings, she knew she’d do anything for him. 
“Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here, of all places,” he frowned. Even though they fucked in a strip club, he wasn’t fond of it.
She sighed. “Everyone wants to get me, Logan,” she said sadly. “Once I leave, the hunt will begin - the Brotherhood, the Avengers, the government. I can’t go back to X-mansion. That’s the first place they’ll check. I can’t endanger the kids.” 
This is what he was looking for. She was still a good woman. “So staying in a strip club is better?” he questioned. “Or are you trying to say you don’t want to be with me? Is that it?” 
Her eyes widen, mouth open. “What? No, no,” she grabbed his big hands, holding them tightly. “I love you, Logan. The only thing I want is to be with you. How can I do that when the world is against me?” 
“You are the most powerful mutant on this planet,” he said. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”
“And that makes me dangerous,” she stated. “Fuck, I put down a whole skyscraper with my powers. It was not my intention to do it, but it happened. People were hurt while I tried to save them. Fuck, Logan, the United Nations are now questioning whether mutants can be trusted again. It’s all my fault.” 
Logan shook his head, not wanting to accept she wouldn’t leave this place. He had to take her home, where she belonged. The school needed her. Everyone in the X-mansion was worried about her. “Baby,” Logan’s arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let any of those fuckers take you away from me. I’ll do everything to keep you safe and protected.” 
Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Logan,” her hand reached for his face, fingers grazing the mutton chops. She chuckled a little. “You are the only man who can pull this off,” she winked at him. “It suits you.” 
“So, what do ya say? Come home with me. That’s where you belong.” 
���Promise me this, Logan - you’ll be on my side, no matter what happens. Please, promise me this,” she pleaded. “Because, genuinely, I am terrified. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if someone tries to get to those I love.” 
He could see it was important to her, to have someone standing by her no matter what. “I promise, princess,” he kissed her knuckles gently. “Fuck, if I could, I would promise you the world.” 
How could this grumpy, dangerous man be such a sweetheart to her? It made her knees weak. He was in love and so was she. “Quick question, how will we get back to X-mansion?” 
Logan licked his lips. “I have a bike parked at a bar where a woman gave me a tip you work here,” her winked at her. 
She made a face. “Yeah, Wendy, she texted me about you,” Y/N winked at him. “I’m mad that you wanted to kill her.”
“Fuck her,” he growled. “Did she write you she was hitting on me?” he raised a brow. 
A simple glare was the answer he needed. “So, does that mean you’ll come with me?” 
“Yes,” she nodded. 
His lips crashed with hers in a loving kiss. Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her tightly. “That’s good, baby. Also,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “That little game you played with me when I arrived - hot.” 
Y/N smiled. “It wasn’t planned. I needed to find out your true intentions.” 
“Through the art of seduction?” 
“Something like that.” 
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imyourbratzdoll · 7 days
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𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔
🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️
summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?
warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.
18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 
The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 
Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 
“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.
Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”
Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”
“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 
Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”
Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”
The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’
Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 
The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 
You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.
You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 
You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 
“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”
Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”
Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.
You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 
Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”
You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 
Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.
You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.
You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.
You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 
“What’re you doing here?”
“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 
“Leave now!” 
Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”
There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 
“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.
As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 
Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 
“Ari.” 
“Logan.” 
“Geralt.” 
They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”
Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”
You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 
Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 
“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.
The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.
You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.
You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 
A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 
“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 
Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 
“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 
Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 
“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.
You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.
“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”
“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 
Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 
“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 
He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it.��
“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 
Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.
“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.
“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 
“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 
“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 
You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 
Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 
The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 
Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 
His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 
Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 
Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 
Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 
Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 
Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 
“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 
You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 
“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 
You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 
Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 
You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 
After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 
That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”
You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 
Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 
You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 
Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?
Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 
“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 
Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 
“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 
“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 
Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 
The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 
Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 
The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 
“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 
“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 
You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 
“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 
“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 
You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 
Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 
Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 
Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 
“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 
Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.
The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 
“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 
“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.
“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 
“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 
You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 
Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 
Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 
You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.
You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 
The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.
The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 
The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.
Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 
They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  
Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 
You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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hsllfirescoopsreblogs · 2 months
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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all logan howlett stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3
MASTERLIST • XMEN MASTERLIST • 05/03/24
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➤ as it was by @ichorai
✗ you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.
➤ blast from the past by @lune-hime
➤ a wolverines heartache by @imaginesforfandom
✗ On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.
➤ feral by @angelltheninth
➤ worked up by @loganbcrnes
✗ logan breaks the bed
➤ anything by @woodolly
✗ Almost everyone fears Logan but Logan only fears you. His wife that happens to be pretty mad at him.
➤ @lilac-mushroom
✗ i need you baby
⑅ When you found out that mutants were being chased and attacked, you couldn't stand the thought of Logan, an old friend of yours, being hurt. Upon arrival at the place he was staying at, you found him beaten up and hurting, his healing powers slowed down. Deciding to take care of him, you couldn't ignore the closeness and strong sexual tension felt between you, just like old times. It wouldn't be bad to give in to it... right?
✗ above the clouds
⑅ Flying over to Atlanta for a mission with the X-Men, you sat next to Logan on the plane. But when his hand sneaked to caress the top of your thigh, you were faced with having to decide between sneaking off with him to the bathroom and leaving Logan painfully hard for rest of the flight. Maybe if you tried to be quiet...
➤ apologies by @jbreenr
⑅The Wolverine's presence in your life took a turn you did not expect.
➤ @buckylattes
✗ two wolves, one bunny
⑅ Logan and Bucky have had their eyes on you for a little bit now, and you can’t stand to wait any longer for them to finally make a move. So you make a move of your own and finally, you all get what you’ve been wanting.
✗ next door neighbor
⑅ Your next door neighbor, Logan, has been trying to get your attention for a while now, but he fears that he’s taken the whole situation the wrong way. Will you ever give him a chance?
✗ possessive
⑅ Logan is always very possessive of you, his girl, but you can’t really be mad at him even if you try.
➤ @buckyownsmylife
✗ untangle me
⑅ The one where once it becomes clear that Logan is your alpha, he’s the one left pining
✗ first burn
⑅ The one where Logan is so crazy to make sure that everyone knows you’re his, that he fucks you in front of everyone.
➤ @loving-barnes
✗ prom
✗ a little game
➤ touch me like nobody else does by @galatially
✗ you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air.
➤ in love with the wolverine by @ellana-ravenwood
➤ @hannibals-favourite-meal
✗ sunshine and flowers
⑅ Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.
✗ the way back home
⑅ After months of being apart from each other, he’s finally back in your arms
✗ worst possible decision
⑅How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.
➤ body swap by @make-me-imagine
✗ reader and wolverine get body swapped, and the reader just so happened to be on their period when it happens + them having to deal with each others mutations.
➤ wolverine x reader by @carry-on-wayward-sun
➤ @wolfdeamonghoul
✗ it should have been me pt2
⑅ Bucky and you had a good relationship, until he felt like didn’t need you anymore and so he breaks up with you and starts dating Natasha soon after. It only takes seeing you walking down the aisle, saying your ‘i dos’ to someone else for him to realize his mistake.
✗ what a tease
⑅ you tease Logan too much that he begins to pleasure himself
✗ sexting
➤ @holylulusworld
✗ breed out
⑅ you woke the animal in wolverine.
✗ bed sharing
⑅ “Can you do ‘bed-sharing’ with Wolverine? He’s grumpy and you believe he doesn’t like you, but he can’t stop himself from sniffing at your neck and it can be smutty or just fluff. You decide.”
✗ cranky
⑅ Your boyfriend is cranky in the morning.
➤ @kgficz
✗ newbie
⑅ Logan had arrived at the X Mansion only a few days ago, finding it difficult to adjust. One night when he can’t fall asleep, he finds you awake in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation.
✗ back in time
⑅ Set in Days of Future Past; Logan has lost everything, he has lost you. He’s finally been sent back in time to change the future. How can he keep his head straight when he travels back and sees a younger you?
➤ logan training by @imyourbratzdoll
✗logan and the reader end up training in another... more fulfilling way.
➤ labels by @mlmxreader
✗ you and Logan discuss your relationship over a beer.
➤ the last goodbye by @trickstersteve
➤ just a dance by @lipstickandvibranium
✗ Logan wasn’t fond of parties, but he was fond of her.
➤ i guess you didn’t cheat, but… by @youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms
➤ request by @angelltheninth
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
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periprose · 10 months
Note
Logan’s reaction when you wear one of his shirts!
ahhhh anon the imagery that popped into my head with this one... thank you for requesting it <3 maybe a slight warning but Logan calls reader kid, (she's an adult) because he's obviously older than everyone. also smutty implications lol
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/
"Kid. Is that my shirt?" Logan is not sure if he's just half-drunk already (it's nearly impossible for him to get drunk as it is on just a few beers) and you're wearing a big, oversized, Calgary Flames jersey.
He's fairly sure that's not yours- he doesn't think you know any Canadian hockey teams, not like that, and the jersey is definitely dated. Logan thinks he got that when the team was early in it's existence.
"Uhhh..." You turn from your spot in front of the kitchen fridge. The X-Mansion is out of milk and creamer, unfortunately. "Maybe? Sorry."
It's not your shirt that bothers Logan, not exactly. From this spot at the kitchen counter- he's leaning over, but he almost has the full view of your legs, because the shirt only meets the beginning parts of your thighs, and he wonders why on earth you have to be so annoyingly delectable. When Logan is trying his best to be professional, a proper X-Men member, you have to go and be half-naked, no pants, just luscious, sweet legs all taut and smooth as you reach upwards to scan through the upper shelf of the fridge.
You're too much for him, he thinks. If Logan was a slightly better person, he might not be having these thoughts at all, let alone considering acting on them- but he thinks about sneaking up behind you and grabbing, squeezing your ass, the back of your thighs.
"I think our laundry got mixed up like a week ago." You try your best to excuse it. Honestly, though? You were happy to steal Logan's jersey.
It's nice and comfy, and the material has worn away into a soft, loose shirt. Best of all, it smells just like him, after years of wearing it- a slight laundry detergent smell is there, but you mostly catch the smell of pine wood, mixed with cigar smoke and maybe something musky.
You didn't expect him to be down here- you didn't want Logan to know your terrible secret.
"And? You just decided you'd keep it, huh?" Logan grumbles, but he's mostly joking. His eyes are soft.
"I didn't-" You turn to him again, and you cross your arms, and it's with a little start that Logan realizes you're not wearing a bra. You're completely naked under there, other than your panties, and he gets a rush of exhilaration thinking about taking them off slowly, with his rough, callused fingers juxtaposed against your supple, soft hips. Gently squeezing your breasts as if he owns them.
There's something hot about it, Logan thinks. You wearing his shirt. As if he loaned it to you. As if he kind of owns you, as if he's your boyfriend. He can't help but feel a deep sense of pleasure. It's not as if all his hook ups and one night stands were clamoring to be his, and it's with fondness that he looks at you again.
"I thought I could give it back to you. After I wore it for a bit." You admit, and Logan has a slight smile.
"Keep it." Logan has a twinkle in his eye, his eyes glancing up and down your figure as he smirks. "It suits you, no pants and all."
He's not really joking about that- it looks way better on you, and to Logan's perverted mind, it is fascinating how this jersey he fills out so well, had a completely different style as it falls on you. It sort of drowns you- leaves your figure to the imagination- but there's just enough that he can see how it skims over your curves, making it easier for him to imagine running his hands over you. Logan thinks about lifting it up from the bottom hem, exposing you.
You turn red, almost forgetting that your legs are bare, and you don't know how to respond to that.
"Really?" You shake your head, ignoring Logan's compliment, knowing that he's just teasing. "Thanks, Logan. It honestly helps me sleep better."
You didn't mean to say that last part- you're not trying to expose the year long crush you've had on the guy- and you stutter over your words, trying not to reveal the comfort you feel around him.
You shut the fridge, and try to leave, but Logan is a little faster, and he's got you right where he wants. Against the fridge. Looking up at him, sweet, meek, just as cute as he remembers.
He leans over you. "Well, I could help you sleep better. If you want."
"Really?" You look up at him, tilting your head a little. "I thought you would think I was just some creep and tell me to fuck off."
"Oh, kid. You think you're the only one who can't stop thinking about us?" Logan swallows. "I think I've liked you since you had to help me figure out the teaching schedule, remember?"
"Who could forget? You were really struggling- your class started an hour late." You joke, and Logan grins. He's not usually such a smiley guy, and it's not something you take light-heartedly. You know he must trust you.
"Offer's still on the table." Logan murmurs, as he traces the collar of his jersey, against your neck and collarbones, and you shiver as he leans in, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It's warm, soft, inviting- but you think Logan must be holding himself back.
"Okay." You whisper up at him, and Logan, being as devious as he is, immediately grasps your waist, your ass, your thighs, squeezing, wanting to feel every bit of flesh, and he feels a deep rumble in his chest- something possessive as he leans in and kisses you, something firm and rough as he feels his shirt around you- and Logan's mouth slots against your own quite easily, open-mouthed, rough kisses that have you shuddering, as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you against the fridge.
You know Logan didn't mean sleeping. He meant putting you to sleep, by sleeping with you, and this silly double meaning, the idea of getting to do all that and then cuddle and sleep by his side, it makes you smile against his mouth.
Logan doesn't stop kissing you as he lifts you up and away, you still wrapped around him, towards his room, feeling an immense amount of slick, lustful pride that he's bringing back his shirt and his girl there.
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inkdrinkerworld · 10 months
Note
Logan would love when you sometimes mix it up and call him by James (which if I'm not mistaken is his real name) like something intimate about calling him by his true name
omg yes!!!
it’s early in the morning in when you’re feeling for him. he’s normally asleep beside you, snoring by your ear and his arms wrapped around you.
this morning he doesn’t and it’s weird.
you sit up, knuckling your eyes as you get out of bed- shoving your feet into your fluffy slippers.
logan had quarreled with you for not wearing them enough times. always going on about how ‘it’s cold in the morning, you’re gonna get sick.’
it’s silly really, you’re mutant, but you suppose his worrying comes from you not having his regeneration powers.
“lo?” you call, almost walking into the archway as you reach the living room.
“on the porch, princess.” he gruffs, not looking back as you come out and find him cutting fruit.
it’s that time of year where the couple trees in your backyard are bearing like crazy.
“did you sleep okay?” you ask him, wheedling your way into his lap making him smile.
“mhm, got up cos that damn bird came back. knocking on the glass.” you yawn and tuck your face into his neck.
“why’re you cutting fruit?” he feeds you a segment of the orange he’s peeling.
“cos you like them.” there’s a big basin between his legs full of orange segments, peaches and some berries.
the way he says it, easy, thoughtful, like it’s silly that he wouldn’t be cutting fruit because you like them- makes your heart stutter.
“james,” you whisper and he hums, his heart now stuttering. he’s sure his eyes go a bit glassy.
it isn’t often you call him by his name, his given name; but when you do, he feels like himself.
like the little boy that always got sick. he feels set apart from all the violence and the war he’s lived.
“what?” he asks, desperate not to have the emotion that’s clawing at his throat rest there.
“you’re the single most thoughtful yet enigmatic man to walk this earth.” you kiss him, transferring the sweet citrus of the orange to him.
“don’t go shouting that around- the thoughtful part.” he says against your lips playfully and you laugh.
“i wouldn’t dare,” your fingers glide through his hair before reaching down into the bowl and offering his a piece of peach.
“i love you,” he says softly. voice earnest and heart full.
“i love you too james,” he kisses you again and as you pull away you say, “should i bake a cobbler?” you spot the mini mountain of peaches by his side.
“oh yeah, i’ll just have to get lemons from the tree.”
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Note
I dont know if you done this already, but what about you logan x fem reader fic, where reader is the little sister of Charles xavier or Eric, and they keep their relationship secret, but then everyone finds out and readers brother gets really protective of her and has a talk with logan trying to scare him off but it doesn't work
.⋆。Worst Possible Decision。⋆.
Logan x plus size reader
How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.
Warnings: angst, gunshots, burns/fire, fluff, protective!erik, descriptions of pain, reader is german but there’s no further description than vague references WC: 2.7k
A/N: This went a little off of the request but I hope you still like it and I’m sorry for how long it took!
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
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She was too much like her brother in a lot of ways, but at the same time, they couldn’t be more different. Where Erik could command any room he walked into, she blended, finding a home in the shadows where she could be hidden. He exuded confidence and a suave attitude that could charm anyone. She was meek, shy but with a power bubbling under the surface that felt like an even bigger threat than any her brother could come up with.
Erik shot first and asked questions later, Y/N wouldn’t ask, she would get all the answers she needed with a single look and then dispose of the trash without so much as a flick of her wrist. While Erik controlled metal, Y/N controlled pain.
Logan met the brother and sister duo long before the mutants were fractured. He noted how beautiful she was, even when he only glanced at her through his peripheral vision. She was curvy, with a belly and plump thighs. He told them to go fuck themselves.
The next time she saw him, she was alone. She seemed lopsided without her brother beside her, incomplete. Logan saw the way her hackles raised when Charles screamed at him to leave, calling him a liar. He saw how she flinched when Erik was mentioned. 
Wolverine knew what happened between them, the rift that hadn’t ever been healed, even after her death in the far future. He was stunned by her beauty then, finally seeing her in the flesh after so many years, alive and well. Logan pulled her to the side as soon as they were alone, embracing her. Y/N tried to push him off but when she felt his pain, the raw burning like his nerves were on fire, she wrapped her soft arms around him, easing him.
“Stay alive.” He told her. “Do whatever you have to, you have to live.” He pleaded before he was pulled back to the future but not without kissing her like it was the last time. He stole her breath away as he poured every ounce of love as he could into her lips. 
When Logan strolled into the Manor many years after that kiss, Y/N stayed away from him. He was so much younger, so much more whole. She could see now the pieces of him that would break away over the years and it hurt her. She knew what was going to happen to him, what had happened to him. But he cornered her eventually.
“You seem to already know who I am.” She shivered when she heard his voice call out to her from the infirmary door. 
“You made a very big impression on the school.” Her accent had long since disappeared, snuffed out by the need to be hidden, to be safe. She didn’t look at him, instead concentrating on cataloguing the new medical supplies that had been delivered the day before.
The mutant huffed, clearly not content with her answer. “You avoid me like the plague while everyone else is indifferent.” Her eyes flicked up to him briefly.
“Maybe I have decided that I already don’t like you. You did threaten to abandon a young mutant on the side of the road.” He scoffed at the mention of Rogue.
“She had it comin’.” He shrugged. “So what is it exactly that you do?” His large body lounged against the one hospital bed in the room. She couldn’t help but glance up at him. He was physically older, slight grey in his sideburns, more lines on his face but his eyes weren’t as sad, the deep brown swirling with emotions he was trying desperately to tamp down but hadn’t learned how yet. 
He was still incredibly handsome though. He walked with a confidence that came from youth, that blind faith in himself and his strength that made him cocky and untouchable. Y/N turned away. “I’m the school’s nurse, I thought that was pretty obvious, given I’m in the infirmary.”
Logan grunted, crossing his thick arms over his chest, holding a beer bottle between two of his fingers. “I was talkin about yer power, bub.” That made her smile, the corner of her lips turning up. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she missed his attitude. 
“I control pain. It’s useful.” She shrugs off the question with a half answer. She picked up the last of the supplies on the infirmary bed, making a note on her clipboard before putting them away. 
She heard him huff and a silence settled over the room but it was not awkward or uncomfortable, it was just… silence. The beer in his bottle swished as he gulped down the last of the brew. The supply closet’s door swung shut with a creak and she chanced another look at the man.
She couldn’t ignore the way his muscles bulged so she forced herself to turn away. It would do her no good to get involved with him in any capacity, even if her heart screamed for him. Logan took the hint, leaving the infirmary with a grumble and a glance back at her.
It was impossible to completely avoid someone like Logan, even in a school as large as the academy. He seemed to appear in moments when her guard was down, lurking in the corner of her vision like a ghost. His blue eyes locked onto her whenever they would be in the same room, both undressing her and observing her with some morbid fascination.
But no matter how hard she tried, her lips still ached from that kiss all those years ago and her heart burned to know what would become of them in the future.
——————
“You seem awfully close with the professor.” The manor was silent, a much needed reprieve after the long day of classes in Logan’s case and lots of skinned knees in Y/N’s. An ancient record player crooned in the corner of the huge sitting room, bathing its two occupants in pleasant song which was quickly becoming more of a lullaby. The older mutant sat on one end of the couch with his companion lying across the rest, a thick book propped up on her chest and her sock-clad feet dangerously close to his lap.
She let the statement sink in for a moment as Logan took another sip from his glass of bourbon he had pilfered from Charles’s not-so-well hidden stash. “Are you asking me something or just talking out loud?” He rolled his eyes.
“What do you think darlin’?” He snapped but his usual condescending tone was replaced with a sarcastic tilt to his voice. Her lips quirked up and she shut her book, letting it rest on her sternum as she met his gaze.
“Yes, Charles and I are very close. I’m the same way with Hank and Alex, we’ve all been here since the beginning.” She knew her answer was one that was far more simple than he would’ve liked but she wouldn’t give him the full story unless he asked. 
Logan dropped his left hand from where it had been resting upon his chest onto his meaty thigh, the edge of his palm now just grazing the tip of her fuzzy socks. “Are you fucking him?” The question was so unexpected that Y/N choked on her own spit. She shot up as she coughed, tucking her legs beneath her. Too caught up in catching her breath, she missed the way his eyes dulled at the loss of her closeness.
“Scheiße.” The German naturally slipped from her lips and she thumped her chest with a closed fist. “God no! Having a telepath as a friend is bad enough, I could never imagine dating one.” He smirked, letting out a pleased chuff. 
“So…” He prompted. Y/N leaned back into the couch. They now sat side-by-side and Logan was able to study her profile as she eased the drink from his hand, finishing it off in one gulp.
Her face was solemn, haunted by something he couldn’t quite place, even in his many decades of life. She looked as if she were in mourning. “I traded one overprotective brother for another.” 
——————
Logan’s legs ached as he ran, the smoke from the fires that raged around him singed his senses. Flames licked up the sides of the manor as gunshots still echoed across the fields, even if the fighting had already stopped. They had come in the dead of night, guns and torches lighting their way. 
The school had always been a risk, especially being so close to town. But young mutants needed a place to go. It was inevitable that those who hated them would try to run them out, they all thought they had more time.
It was her voice that pulled Logan from his retreat. Laced with tears, she was comforting one of the older students as he nursed a severe burn to his arm. They were laid out in the grass which was still damp from the early morning dew. Y/N cupped his face with glowing hands and Logan could clearly see the pain that rippled through her.
More students gathered around them, each with an injury of their own, each begging for some kind of relief. Exhaustion painted her face as her body wound tight with agony. The ground shook as Logan dropped to his knees next to her. 
“Give me their pain.” She was withering away right before his eyes, driven only by a need to protect, to give the children comfort in the only way she knew how. She shook her head and instead moved to a girl who was no older than 13. A flesh wound cut across her leg, the edges of the wound burned with residual gunpowder. 
A sob escaped Y/N’s lips as she took the girl’s pain and Logan watched as the woman began to wither away. She was killing herself. 
“Give me their fucking pain.” He yanked her hands away from the girl and laid them on his broad chest. She thrashed in his hold in an attempt to pull away but he wouldn’t budge.
Her eyes met his and she froze. This was the moment that he had warned her about so many years before, a premonition that he would never remember. But to give her pain, her gift, to someone else, she couldn’t even fathom it. “Please.” He begged, squeezing her hands in his own. She was weakening, she doubted she could stop him even if she tried.
Logan felt like he was burning alive as gunshots ripped through his arms and legs. And yet he smiled at her and in that moment, something shifted between them. “That’s it doll face.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the fire that still blazed behind them. 
——————
The sounds of power tools and hammers were almost constant nowadays as the mutants worked together to rebuild the crumbling school. Y/N strolled happily through the halls, the walls still blackened from the fire. The students were gone, taken home by their families or sent to safe houses around the country, leaving only a few teachers who wanted to lend a hand. 
“They’re working quite quickly.” Charles noted from his place where the greenhouse used to sit. A handful of people, including Logan, Hank, Alex and Rogue among others were steadily building a large room across the way- a brand new library.
Y/N chuckled as she handed him a cup of lemonade. “They have a goal to achieve. This school is important to all of us.” He grinned slyly at his long time friend. 
“I’m sure one of them has another motivation for working so hard.” His blue eyes flicked to the love bite that peaked from her collar. 
“Shut up.” She muttered with a kick to his wheelchair, Charles laughed under his breath as she walked away to the man responsible for her tender steps and slight limp. As much as Charles loved to tease, he loved even more that she was smiling again and the pain that always seemed to radiate from her mind was now a dull ache that was easily chased away by the touch of her lover. 
As soon as she was near enough, Logan abandoned his work, his full attention turned to her. Her laugh carried through the summer breeze like a bird song as he wrapped her up in his arms, lathering her face in kisses. The others rolled their eyes and continued their work as the couple embraced.
“I see my absence was not missed.” Erik’s cool tone froze Charles’s blood. 
Rage rolled off the mutant in waves as he glared at the man who was all over his precious sister. His knuckles turned pale and Charles could almost hear the way his muscles tensed. “Erik, what a surprise. I thought you were still on the run.” He looked up at his old friend though he almost didn’t recognise him. His eyes were so much older, his soul so much darker but yet, it was still him. 
Y/N had yet to notice her brother, too wrapped up in the arms of her lover but as she pressed another kiss to his cheek, Erik’s anger mounted. He knew what Logan was, knew exactly what pain he was capable of inflicting. “How long?” He growled.
“A couple months though I suspect that Logan had been pining for her since the moment he met her.” Perhaps it was optimistic of Charles to divulge details of their relationship to Erik, but he was a romantic at heart. “Logan saved her life, Erik.” 
Her laughter did nothing to ease the furrow in his brow but the way that Logan grabbed at her ample backside absolutely did something. 
“Logan?” Y/N asked curiously as the man in her arms suddenly froze and his eyes widened almost comically. “Are you ok?” She cupped his cheek and pain unlike anything she had ever imagined rocketed through her veins. Her bones felt like they were twisting in upon themselves, severing nerves and destroying her body from the inside out. She could feel Logan’s flesh move unnaturally as she pulled him closer to her.
“Logan!” Her hands pressed harder into his jaw in an attempt to steal the violent sensation from him but still, his chest echoed with his suffering.
“Erik enough!” Her head whipped around, as did the attentions of all the other mutants gathered around. The fury in his eyes was like nothing she had seen before, as if he was looking at a roach he had crushed under his boot. His knuckles paled with the force of his power. 
A howl of pain escaped Logan’s lips, finally breaking Y/N from her trance. “Release him or I’ll fucking break you.” She snarled and for just a moment, Erik faltered. 
His hold wavered briefly but it was enough for Charles to grab his wrist and completely break his focus. “This is beyond childish.” He scolded as Y/N pulled her partner behind her but her deadly glare remained firmly on her brother. Erik didn’t bother to respond, instead his shoulders dropped in surrender and Logan collapsed, the pain finally dissipating.
There was a flurry of movement as she fell to her knees and the others rushed to make sure they were alright. “She’s happy, she’s safe. Leave it alone.” But Erik ignored his friend. His Y/N was gone and perhaps she had been for years. This woman that threatened him when he hurt a boy, as he had done dozens of times in the past with no fight from her, was not the girl he grew up with.
She stood up straight all on her own. She didn’t need Erik to balance her nor Logan to push her up, perhaps that’s why her brother slipped out in the dead of night, leaving behind the one thing that kept him tethered to his humanity. Y/N would awaken the next morning in the protective hold of the man she loved and find a single coin, rusted with age and stained with dried blood on her nightstand. She knew that she would not hear from him again, Erik was dead, only Magneto remained.
The worst decision indeed.
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Just A Little Bit Jealous - Logan Howlett X GN Reader
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Title: Just A Little Bit Jealous
Logan Howlett X GN Reader
Additional Characters: Charles (Mentioned), Hank, Co-workers, Scott (Mentioned), Random bar people, and Rogue (Mentioned)
Requested by: Anon!
WC: 4,927
Warnings: Jealousy, slight violence, slight suggestiveness, nicknames, teasing, banter, flirting, bars, alcohol (beer) mentioned, unwanted flirting and physical touch (nothing major), Reader has Telekinesis (and other unspecified mutations), minimal cursing, men being jerks, blood briefly mentioned, angst, and fluff
Logan wasn't the best with emotions. Or at expressing them really. However, in certain situations, the emotions that did seem to shine through were not the most positive ones. Especially as Logan found himself standing at the entrance of the X-Mansion kitchen; raging, for a lack of better words.
His vision was green. A dark haze settled over his eyes. It was a look that only Logan could achieve. The anger in his gut was beginning to bowl over. He needed to calm down, but how? 
Seeing you, looking the way you did, absolutely gorgeous in that outfit - the one that made you feel confident - it wasn’t even anything fancy, just your usual attire; something more laidback for the weekend. The way that you seemed to be oblivious to the way that Hank was looking at you. Logan understood. You looked stunning, as always. 
Even though Logan knew that he shouldn't be feeling such... Well, jealousy. Hank was a long-time friend of both of yours, and you and Logan had been together for well over a year at this point. But, he couldn't help it. It was like an itch under his skin that he couldn’t reach to scratch. Logan felt protective. As he usually felt for those he truly cared about. And even though he knew that he didn't need to worry, again, he couldn't help it. Logan knew Hank, and he knew him long enough to know that he was a good guy. Hank wouldn't try and steal you from him, not that you were something to steal. Logan didn't own you, if you so wished, you could leave him. You could do whatever you wanted. You could leave and forget all about him.
Though, that just might've been Logan's insecurities talking. 
At some point, while Logan was stuck in his head, his eyes still glaring holes into the side of Hank's head. Logan was not paying much attention to your conversation, but whatever it was about, Hank made you laugh. Another wave of jealousy rippled out of Logan. But, thankfully for Logan - and Hank - the conversation between you and Hank ended.
"Have a good night, Y/N," Hank spoke, grabbing his coke can from the kitchen counter.
"Goodnight, Hank." You replied, noticing Logan at the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall; his arms crossed. 
Hank turned and paused, also noticing Logan, giving the man a grin. "Good evening, Logan."
"Evening," Logan grumbled, eyeing the man as Hank awkwardly passed him and left the room; escaping down the hall. 
You huffed, turning to lean against the kitchen counter, pressing the palms of your hands against the edge of it. You stared at Logan, inspecting his body language, trying to get a feel for how he was feeling, and Logan stared right back at you. You mimicked him, moving your arms to cross them over your chest, and at his eyebrow raise, you raised yours. His frown slowly slipped into a small grin at your actions, making your lips tug upwards in response. You moved towards him. "Hey..." Your voice was soft, yet full of curiosity. You looked up at him, taking him in fully once again.
Logan leaned forward slightly, his crossed arms dropping, and his hands coming to rest on your waist, "Hey..." He mimicked your greeting, making you huff again.
Raising your hands, you placed them on his own waist, your pointer fingers looping into his blue Jeans belt loops. "What's up with you?" You asked, tilting your head back a bit to look up at him. "Something on your mind?" You pressed on, pulling yourself closer to him.
"Hmm..." Logan hummed softly, gazing down at you for a moment - just admiring you, your eyes shining as bright as ever, looking up at him with such love and admiration - before lowering his face to meet yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. The kiss was slow but passionate. It sent shivers down your spine. One of your hands left his waist, cupping the back of his neck, the tips of your fingers running through the soft, brown hair at the nape of his neck. Your head was in the clouds, lost in Logan’s lips against yours. Logan felt all the anger and jealousy just wash away, leaving nothing but the love he felt for you burning inside of him. With each kiss and every touch, he felt a little bit lighter. 
You slowly pulled away from the intoxicating kiss, your eyes feeling heavy and your heart full, you couldn't stop your smile from growing as your whole body felt warm. You bit your bottom lip as you watched Logan chase your lips, before gently pressing his forehead against yours. 
You sighed, shutting your eyes once more, "I hope you didn't think that kissing me would get you out of answering." You lightly teased, feeling Logan's warm breath waft against your face as he let out a sigh of his own.
Logan's hands tightened around your waist, the warmth from his hands seeping through your shirt and onto your flesh. “Nothin' much on my mind, bub," Logan spoke, letting out one more sigh before letting his shoulders fall slightly, "Jus' a bit tired."
You hummed, nudging your nose gently against his before pulling your forehead from his, glancing at the kitchen clock on the wall. "It is almost seven." You turned to look back up at him, seeing that he was already looking right back down at you. "Kind of early to be tired, eh, old man?" You continued to tease, though Logan gave you a look and a small chuckle, you know that something else was swimming in that head of his; and you decided to let him just tell you whatever it was when he was ready.
Logan's grin turned into a smirk, blinking down at you tiredly, his hands on your waist tugging you back into him; your hands coming up to rest against his chest. "I put the 'grand' in 'grandpa'." He spoke. 
At that, you let out a snort, and the two of you started laughing quietly. It took a few moments before you quieted down, your hand coming up to your mouth as you looked at Logan; your eyes squinted slightly, trying to contain your giggles. "Either, you've been spending way too much time with Charles, or you really are tired." You giggled out, your laughter slowly subsiding.
Logan's chest heaved lightly as he chuckled once more, "Maybe both." 
As the both of you started to head up to your shared bedroom, Logan almost forgot what he was all upset over. Almost. 
~~~
Logan had once again found himself watching from afar as some guy - a co-worker - talked to you. You somehow convinced Logan to be your plus one for a work party that your job was hosting. Logan didn't want to go, but with your little pout - and Puss In Boots eyes - he caved, knowing that he wouldn’t win against you. You even convinced him to dress somewhat rather nicely, in black slacks, his boots, and his red flannel rolled up past his elbows. Yes, he looked nice, but he really wanted to wear his Jeans.
Logan disliked parties. Parties were different from bars though, you didn't have to interact with others. And with most parties, there was an expectation to mingle with others. Logan, however, did not want to mingle with others. He was a loner after all. 
He stood next to the table of snacks and refreshments, holding a small red solo cup of fruit punch for you; sadly for Logan, the party didn't have any alcohol. He could've really gone for a beer or two, but no. No, instead he had to stick to his own cup of fruit punch that he held in his other hand. 
But he watched, watched as you spoke to that co-worker of yours. Again, similar to Hank, the man said something to make you laugh - though, Logan knew you incredibly well enough to know that it was not a genuine laugh; the man even had the gall to reach out with his free hand to hold your upper arm for a moment. And Logan did what he could to push the jealousy that he was feeling down. Walking over, he skillfully maneuvered around some other people, making his way over to you. 
You nodded your head, letting out another fake laugh before you noticed Logan walking towards you in the corner of your eye. Turning your head, a real smile graced your features as you waved him over. "Logan! This is Henri."
"With an 'I'," Henri raised his cup in the air slightly with the inflection, giving Logan a grin, and offering his free hand out to the Wolverine. "Henri French."
Logan stared at him, with a hardened look, handing you your cup of punch without even looking at you. Taking Henri's offered hand, he shook it firmly - possibly enough to warn the guy to keep his fingers off of you. "Logan." He spoke simply, his voice gruff and low; letting go of Henri's hand, stuffing it into his slack's pocket. He turned his gaze back towards you, seeing your eyebrows knit together, and the confusion written across your face, your eyes searching his, though you quickly turned to look back at Henri with a smile; your hand curling around Logan's upper arm, the tips of your fingers brushing under the rolled sleeve of his flannel. At the touch of your chilled skin on his, Logan felt himself breathing out a deep sigh from his nose, you always knew how to calm him.
At Logan's nothing-but-short introduction, Henri let out a small laugh, "I know, Y/N said that was your name." He joked. "They seem to never shut up about you." Though Logan felt a sense of pride wash over him - making the corner of his lips twitch at the thought of you rambling about him to your co-workers - he also felt slightly off when Henri said that, the tone unnerved him. 
You huffed, rolling your eyes before you turned to look up at Logan with a sweet smile. "Lo, honey, could you hold my drink for me, please? I spotted Anna. I'll be back in a jiffy." And with that, your punch cup was back in his hand, and he was left alone to deal with Henri all by himself. 
Logan watched as you left, seeing you weave around a few people, waving to another co-worker of yours; an older woman with black hair and large glasses. Turning to look back at Henri, he noticed his gaze on you. And, in fact, Logan didn't like how Henri was looking at you. He was staring at you like he wanted you - the guy was even biting his lip, his eyes trailing up and down your body - Logan didn't like that one bit.
Letting out a small chuckle, Henri turned back to Logan, taking a sip of his punch. "You got a fine piece of ace there." Logan's brows furrowed, he wasn't exactly fond of how this conversation was going. 
"Excuse me?" Logan's voice deepened - a growl almost leaving his throat - as if he was warning Henri, feeling a burning feeling bubbling up inside him, but Henri just raised an eyebrow, brushing his short, blonde curls away from his forehead.
"Can't help a guy for being a bit curious, can you?" Logan pursed his lips, and Henri took the chance to continue, "So, how did you catch them? I've worked with them for three years now, and they never took me up on anything. I mean, come on, give a guy a break. What’s a guy gotta do to get some action around here?" He chuckled, and Logan felt his hands grip the cups of punch a bit tighter, the plastic of the cups crinkling slightly as the pressure. "You've got to tell me how you won them over. Did they play hard to get with you too?"
Logan wanted to lash out, but he knew how important this was for you, and he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of you and all of your co-workers… But, Logan was pretty close to punching this guy’s teeth in. "I don't have to tell ya nothin'," Logan finally growled, making Henri raise his hands in defense as he chuckled lightly. 
"Okay! Relax, buddy! Don't have to be so hostile, man, I'm just curious how good they are in-" Suddenly, Henri paused mid sentence, his own hand holding his cup of punch moving up in a swift motion. In confusion - and bewilderment - Logan watched as Henri moved the cup above his head, his body seemingly moving involuntarily. All the while, Henri's eyes were wide, his mouth agape as he blabbered nonsense in horror and confusion, before the cup flipped upside down, drenching himself in his own punch. The couple of people around both men stopped their conversations, turning to witness Henri as he slowly brought his hand down, his mouth opening and closing; his blonde curls wet and sticking to his forehead. "I- uh," He stammered out, "I- I don't know why I did that." He spoke out, sounding incredibly embarrassed.
Turning his head to look over in your direction, seeing you already looking over at him, a small, mischievous grin and a knowing look in your eyes. He matched your grin, knowing full well that this was your doing. 
~~~
When Logan said that he was going to go out on his bike, he wasn't expecting you to ask to come along. He was just going to a bar that was a couple of miles away, but the more the merrier; and Logan was actually meaning to show you the bar - that surprisingly didn't sell crap beer, at some point. When the world let the both of you, you and Logan would just ride around, sometimes for hours, just enjoying each other's company; the wind blowing through your hair, and the scenic views.
So, you and Logan drove off on his - Scott's - motorcycle, heading off to that bar that he told you all about. You weren’t all for bars, finding them a bit too loud and the lights a bit too dim. But, you had been curious ever since the many times Logan spoke about it when he got back to the Mansion. And even though Logan couldn't get drunk, you convinced him to let you drive the both of you home. Which was always fun for you. So, this was technically a win-win for both of you. Logan got to go to his bar, you got to drive home, and you both got to spend some quality time together.
When you pulled up to the bar, you slipped off of the bike, looking at the bar with your hands on your hips as Logan kicked the kickstand and slid off the bike. Looking around the exterior of the place, you noted how loud it seemed, even from the outside. You were in for a headache in the morning, and it wasn't going to be from the alcohol. 
"Ya good, bub?" Logan asked, his hand pressing the small of your back, his words breaking you out of your thoughts. 
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I am," You nodded your head, glancing up at him, "I will admit, I am slightly nervous."
Logan nodded, turning his head to look at the bar, "I get it, but don't worry. I ain't gonna leave your side." Pulling you into his side, he gave you his signature grin, "Plus, they got the best fries."
"I like fries." You grinned right back up at him, "Lead the way."
"Sure thin', darlin'."
As Logan pushed the door open for you, you were immediately greeted by the smell of beer, sweat, and smoke; and the loud music that you heard outside, blasting overhead.
Logan’s hand was protectively placed on your lower back as he led you to the bar at the far end of the room. As you both walked, you took the time to look around and spied a couple of men playing pool to the right, and a handful of tables filled with all sorts of people to your left; drinking, smoking, and talking. At the far end of the bar, you found several men sitting on the bar's stools, watching the TV in the corner of the room; a football game was on. You were thankful that the bar wasn't full of just men, having spotted a couple of women here and there; with their partners, friends, etcetera. 
Finding a couple of empty stools at the bar, you and Logan took your seats, the bartender sliding over from behind the bar; cleaning a glass with a cloth. He was a burly man, with a well-trimmed beard and mustache - and a bunch of tattoos littering his arms. He gave Logan a nod, glancing at you before speaking.
"What can I get you two?" He asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music. His voice was deeper than what you had thought it was going to be, as he sat the glass and cloth down.
"Beer," Logan answered, and the bartender nodded, then turned to you.
You waved a dismissive hand, letting out an awkward chuckle, "I'll just take some fries. Thanks!" 
"Yeah," Logan spoke up, "Thanks, Charlie." And this Charlie nodded once more, leaving to get Logan's beer and your fries. 
Turning in his seat, Logan leaned his arm against the bar - close enough for you to be able to hear him over everything - giving you a grin, amusement in his eyes, "Well, wha' d'ya think?" 
"What do I think?" You asked, resting your own elbow against the bartop, leaning your cheek against your hand, "It’s not too bad. Honestly, it's a bit loud."
Logan chuckled, "All bars are loud, bub." 
You huffed, playfully rolling your eyes, "Well, it's certainly not the worst."
For the next thirty minutes or so, you and Logan talked, about everything and anything as you ate your fries and Logan drank his second beer. It was very enjoyable, really. You were honestly impressed by the bar, its fries were amazing; crisp outside that was sprinkled with cinnamon and paprika; it was interesting, but you liked it. When Charlie came out of the kitchen with a plate full of stacked fries. The sight of all that food made you salivate slightly, your stomach growling in hunger.
As Logan finished off his tall glass of beer, he gained your attention, "I gotta piss, I'll be righ' back."
You felt a slight rush of nervousness but nodded anyway. With a gentle squeeze of your thigh, Logan slid off of the bar stool and over to the far left corner where you supposed the bathroom was located. Turning back to the bar, you picked up a fry from your plate, twisting it between your fingers before plopping it in your mouth. Chewing, you glanced at the many drinks lining a shelf behind the bar. You were quickly growing bored, and you soon found yourself reading the labels of the alcoholic bottles; well, the ones that you could make out.
"What's someone like you doing in a beat-up place like this?" You heard a voice from beside you, where Logan used to be. Huffing, you mentally rolled your eyes. Ignoring the voice, you continued to stare straight ahead, and continued to eat your fries; maybe the guy would just go away, if you were lucky. "Come on, sweet thing, give me your name?" The guy spoke again, this time, much closer to you.
"Not interested." You answered plainly, becoming irritated. 
"Awe, don't be like that!" The guy exclaimed, taking the stool that Logan had occupied. "I just want to get to know you, sweet cheeks."
You didn't even glance at him as you answered with the same tone, "I got a boyfriend."
"A boyfriend?" The man asked, scoffing, seemingly thinking that your answer was ridiculous. "If I was your boyfriend, I'd never leave you all alone in some bar." He tilted his head slightly, his smirk growing, "I don't think I could keep my eyes off you - much less my hands." 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. How typical. "Look, if you're done being creepy, I’d like you to leave me be - I'd like to eat my fries in peace while I wait for my boyfriend." You were this close to just using part of your mutation to physically make him leave you alone, but you didn’t want to bring much attention to yourself. “And, honestly, I’m doing you a favor. You won’t like whatever happens when he gets back.”
"Hmph," The man hummed, narrowing his eyes playfully - he liked a challenge - "Then why don’t you and I leave now before he gets back?" You then felt pressure on your thigh, making you snap your gaze from in front of you, to your thigh, and finally to the man. "I can show you a good time."
And before you could do anything, you heard his voice, "Hands. Off. Of. Them." And thankfully, at Logan's growl, the man took his hand from off of your thigh; as if you had burned him. 
Letting out a deep breath of relief, you looked up at Logan - who stood tall beside you, his dark eyes almost glowing with anger - his face showing pure fury, and his fists balled at his sides; his claws just threatening to escape his knuckles. 
"I was just fooling around, dude," The guy brought up the courage to speak, reaching out to steal a fry from off of your plate, "Just having some fun." But as he began to pull the fry from your plate, a metal claw suddenly stabbed the fry down, pinning it to the table with a loud ‘thud.’ The man froze, staring at the three claws as they pierced the wooden bartop. He gulped, obvious by his Adam's apple bobbing as he dropped the fry, his fingers only centimeters from the sharp claws. 
You chuckled, narrowing your eyes as you smirked, “I told you.” You taunted as the man slowly looked up at Logan, who continued to glare daggers at him; the man's eyes widened before he quickly stumbled off of the bar stool and ran away. Logan watched him go, slowly retracting his claws back into his knuckles, his blood staining them before they quickly healed. You huffed as Logan continued to watch until the man was out the bar door; your hand coming up to grab his arm. "Lo," You spoke up, gaining his attention, his head turning. You gave him a soft grin, gesturing to the bar stool, "Sit, hon." And he did, taking his seat, you could tell that he was still seething, though, less so than moments before. Taking his hand in yours, you curled his hand back into a fist, shutting your eyes as you pressed a couple of light kisses to his bloody knuckles. Pressing a last kiss to his knuckles, you sighed, opening your eyes; your eyes meeting his brown ones. "Thank you," You whispered quietly. He let out a long sigh, nodding as he looked away, but you reached out with your free hand, cupping his chin, and turning his head to face you. "Want to go home?"
He stared at you, a frown still on his face as he nodded. And so, you and Logan left the bar - leaving a couple of dollars for the drinks and fries - and then some for the slightly damaged bartop. Hopping onto the bike, you held onto the handles, feeling Logan's hands slip around your waist - protectively, his face digging into the side of your neck as you started the bike up. 
Driving down the road, you felt yourself smile as Logan's lips pressed gently against your skin, feeling his beard scratch lightly across your throat as he kissed your skin; instant goosebumps. The chill breeze was welcoming as the bike sped along the slightly bumpy roads, and you were excited to get home and sleep. And you could tell that Logan was tired too; mentally and emotionally. It wasn't until the bike pulled into the X-Mansion garage that you and Logan could finally let out a sigh. 
"Home sweet home," You said, the both of you slipping off of the bike. "I'm exhausted."
Logan only grumbled as the both of you headed into the Mansion. 
You hummed tiredly, looking down at the watch on your wrist, "It's almost seven." You took Logan's hand, interlacing your fingers with his as you walked down the Mansion halls, "Kind of early to be tired, eh, old man?"
You asked the same question from more than a week ago, your smile widened as you saw Logan's tired frown turn into a slight smile, "Yeah, yeah," Logan grumbled, amused, "Let's jus' get ta bed."
You nodded, chuckling, "You don't have to tell me twice."
~~~
Finally, some peace, and quiet; alone with you. With your head on his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around you, Logan finally felt content. Content with just spending a quiet night in with you. No missions, no work parties, no bars - though Logan did have a beer on the coffee table - or waiting for you to get done with teaching. Just the both of you, watching a movie. And it was some fantasy movie that you got the VHS tape for. It was interesting, enough to keep Logan somewhat entertained, but not a lot. He kept finding himself looking at you for most of the movie. 
In fact, he was doing just that. The TV illuminated your face, perfectly highlighting your features. He found himself unable to focus on the movie at hand - he was too focused on you. His eyes followed your every movement - watching every little detail as you shifted. You wore a slight smile on your lips; your hand laying softly on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles onto the material of his jeans. Logan found himself smiling as he watched your actions. His own fingers absentmindedly played with the soft strands of your hair, occasionally scratching your scalp. His chest felt warm - fuzzy. 
But, then Logan noticed something. The expression on your face changed... Changed into one that you only gave him. Logan's eyebrows furrowed, watching as you let out a soft sigh, your eyes glued to the screen. Turning his head, he spotted the reason for your dreamy sigh and love-sick eyes. The man on the screen, dressed in the attire that was appropriate for the type of movie he was in, was dancing gracefully around a crowded ballroom of masked masqueraders. The man was beautiful, Logan had to admit. Beautiful, graceful, and ethereal. 
And you seemed to have thought so too, as you let out another dreamy sigh. 
Turning to look back at you, you glanced up at him, at the screen, and back at him. "What?" You asked, smiling lightly, noticing the odd look on his face.
"You're sighin,'" Logan spoke simply, making you frown slightly and raise an eyebrow.
"I'm sighing?" You asked, blindly grabbing the TV remote and pausing the movie.
Logan tilted his head slightly, raising his own eyebrow as his chocolate eyes stared into yours, "You did the same sigh when you first met me." He recalled, making you huff out a little laugh, incredulously. 
"What are you talking about?" You asked, turning your body slightly towards him.
"Rogue said that ya sighed, just like that, when ya firs' met me." Logan pointed out, teasing lightly - his chest feeling warm in the process. "She said ya were starstruck."
You snorted, "Of course I was starstruck, I mean, look at you! You're gorgeous! You're tall, dark, and handsome!" You explained, pausing for a moment. "And you do have a nice butt." You added, as if it was common knowledge at this point, and it was - you praised his behind often.
Your flattery made Logan grin mischievously, "That's all ya like me fo’? My looks?" He joked, making you lightly slap his thigh in response. 
"Lo, of course not, you know that!" You spoke before becoming a bit serious as you made eye contact - Logan gulped lightly - "When I first met you, aside from your dashingly good looks, Logan, I fell for your character.” You glanced away briefly, the memories filling your mind, “You’re funny, fiercely loyal, passionate, intelligent, and a very strong-willed man." You found yourself rambling, "There's a whole lot more I could say, but it would take hours." You breathed out a small chuckle, running a hand through your hair.
Logan couldn't fight the blush that crept up his cheeks, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as you spoke; his eyes softening. "I could say the same 'bout you." He spoke honestly - fondly - his voice low and husky; almost speechless.
You hummed, leaning up with the hand on his thigh to press a quick peck to his cheek before turning back to the movie with one last tap to his leg. “I know these past months have been crazy. Work parties and loud bars… But, you don't have to worry. My fictional crush doesn't hold a candle to you."
"Fictional crush?" He muttered, glancing at the TV screen as you unpaused your movie.
 A smirk played on your lips as you turned your attention back on the TV, "I can smell the jealousy rolling off of you, hon,"
"Jealousy? I ain't jealous, bub." Logan shook his head, his arm returning to wrap around you. "Just… Surprised is all."
"Suit yourself."
---
Main Masterlist | X-Men Masterlist
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dinogoofymutated · 2 days
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may i pretty please request a wolverine x reader where he gets super clingy when he’s tired and he’s just so soft with the reader following her around like a little puppy until she agrees to go to finally go to bed so they can cuddle and sleep and it’s just 🥹🥹🥹🥹
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Wolverine/GN!Reader THIS!!! I absolutely love soft Logan and having this big, rageing machine of a man turn into an absolute puppy when he's sleepy and in love UGH. I need him to be real RN so we can go get married and live happily ever after in the mountains I stg Sorry that this one is kinda short. It's really fluffy and I hope yall enjoy! TWs: None! Reader is written pictuing fem but no pronouns mentioned.
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    You woke up a little while ago with the striking revelation that you had completely forgotten to finish grading exams. Sure, you could have waited till the morning, but you had become restless. At this point, the only thing that was gonna help you fall back asleep was to just get it over with. 
   You let out a sigh as you finish another exam, moving on to the next one in the stack. You remember when you had first joined the X-men, expecting it to all be adventures and saving people from immediate threats- you never would have expected to be where you are now. The thought makes you laugh a little bit. You, a teacher? Oh, how times have changed. For the better, but changed nonetheless. The door to your classroom creaks open slowly, and you look over to see Logan. His eyes are half closed as he shuffles over to you, leaning over the back of your chair to wrap his arms around your shoulders and set his chin atop your head.
    “Come back to bed, baby.” Logan rumbles. You rub one of his arms back and forth with one of your hands as you continue to write with the other.
    “Sorry, did I wake you up?” You ask. Logan only hums from above you, adjusting his head to press his cheek against your hair. You know what he means, even if he won't admit it.
    “Okay, well just give me a moment and I’ll get back in bed with you, okay?” You tell him, admittedly feeling a little guilty for disturbing his sleep. Logan doesn’t respond, and instead begins to move to the other side of your chair.
    “Logan?” You call his name curiously as he begins to sit down on the floor next to you. He huffs as he leans his head against your thighs, practically using your lap as a pillow.
    “I’ll stay here, thanks.” He says, and you can't help but laugh a little.
    “Logan, There is no way that’s comfortable.” You protest, but he simply shrugs, closing his eyes as he nuzzles into your lap.
    “ ‘ve been through worse.” Logan sighs, and you swear you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. You can’t help but shake your head at him anyway, writing a graded letter on the latest exam before moving it over again.
    “You’re actually ridiculous, you know that?” Logan only hums in response to you, his breathing beginning to slow as you run a hand through his hair. The two of you sit like that for a while, and although you do feel bad about how uncomfortable it must be for him to sit down there like that, Logan doesn’t complain. You rub your eyes when you’ve finally finished grading the last exam, setting it neatly on your desk with the others. You’re ready to finally get up from that god-forsaken seat, but the weight in your lap is keeping you from doing so. When you look down, it’s clear to see that Logan has fully fallen asleep in your lap. You try to keep yourself from smiling too hard as you brush your hand across his shoulders and try to wake him up. 
    “Logan.” You call for him gently, and all he does is grunt in a sleepy way. “Come on, I’m gonna get a glass of water and then I’ll meet you in bed.” You shake him just a tad bit rougher, and Logan grunts again, slowly blinking his eyes open as he sits up. You run your hand through his hair one more time before standing. You wait for him at the door of the classroom, giving him a kiss on his cheek before you turn in the opposite direction, headed towards the kitchen. At first, you think you’re hearing things, but after a few more heavy steps from behind you, you turn around and are face to face with a sleepy, grumpy, Logan. You look at him in disbelief. 
    “I’m not going far. I’m just getting a drink and I’ll meet you in bed?” You can’t believe that he’s still trailing behind you, looking like a lost puppy. He almost pouts at you. Logan Howlett, the one and only Wolverine, pouting at you over something so silly.
     “Lo. You cannot be serious.” You say, once again trying your best not to laugh. Logan huffs at you, walking forward to take your hand before he’s leading you to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
     “You’ll get over it.” He grumbles. The walk to the kitchen to get water is just as quick as you thought it would be, if not a little longer due to Logan being stuck to your side the whole time, being built wide like a fridge and being in the way no matter what with how close he was. He’s got his arm draped over you on the way back to bed, refusing to be less than three inches away from you at all times. You hardly have time to lock the door to your shared room before he’s grabbing you by the waist and tugging you under the covers. God, he was so ridiculous like this and you love him so much for it. It takes a moment for you to get settled under the covers, Logan’s hold on you being equivalent to being held in a steel cage and leaving very little room for movement. 
    When you turn to tell him goodnight, he’s already fast asleep. You lean in and kiss him goodnight anyway, and you swear that you see him smile unconsciously before you tuck yourself into his chest, finally resting in his comforting and secure arms.
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ichorai · 1 year
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as it was ; logan howlett.
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track seven of WASTELAND, BABY!
pairing ; logan howlett x mutant!scientist!gn!reader
synopsis ; you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.
words ; 9.1k
themes ; angst, fluff, action, mutant au, scientist au
warnings / includes ; descriptions of violence and gore, death, blood and injuries, alcohol, smoking, emotions™, logan calls you 'bub' and 'darlin', reader has the ability to manipulate matter, reader is a scientist, based on marvel comics presents: weapon x issues #72-84, mentions of the brotherhood and the rest of the x-men, charles is your bff :D, not accurate x-men timelines </3
main masterlist.
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You pressed your knuckles into your tired eyes, wincing when bright colors exploded behind your eyelids. Gingerly, you blinked to adjust back to the brightness of the laboratory’s artificial lights, stifling a wide yawn with the back of your palm.
It was your shift to watch him. Weapon X.
Everything was deathly silent, other than the rhythmic beeping of the machine in front of you. The machine that told you he was still alive. Still breathing.
You shifted in the leather chair, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat. 
The man—was he even a man anymore?—laid motionless and limp within the vat. His features, softened with unconsciousness, were still rugged and intimidating, nearly hidden by the hundreds of wires sticking out of his form. 
They brought you in just a week ago, so you were still getting used to everything here. The other scientists in the facility had told you that the man was a volunteer for the Weapon X project—that he needed to be given an adamantium skeleton or his own mutation would kill him from the inside out. Being a mutant-in-hiding yourself, you felt a certain calling to help him out.
So if you were helping this man recover, why did it feel so wrong? 
Biting the side of your cheek, you slipped out of the chair and strode up to the vat, resting a hand on the glass barrier. It was cold beneath your fingertips. 
You could’ve sworn you saw his foot twitch—
The door to the lab whooshed open, and the head scientist, Dr. Cornelius, strode in, shooting you a humorless look, wordlessly telling you that your shift was over. 
Pursing your lips, you pulled yourself away from the glass, sparing the man in the vat one last glance before stepping back to the chair to gather your things. 
“Anything interesting to note?” the old man asked you. 
You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Nothing at all for the past couple of hours, Doc. He’s responding exceptionally well to the chemical bath.”
He made a disinterested noise, as if the prospect of things going well bored him, before sinking into another chair and heaving a large sigh. 
Hesitant, you stepped forward to ask, “Doctor? Sorry, I was just wondering if I could ask you some questions.” It was about time you knew just what was going on here—there was definitely something that he wasn’t telling you.
The man lifted his gaze to you, seeming annoyed already. “What is it?” A scowl threatened to play by the corner of your lips, but you forced on an indifferent expression. 
“I just… I keep thinking about him.”
“Who? Logan?”
His name was Logan. He had a name. Well—of course he did. You suddenly felt sick.
“Yeah. I keep thinking about what we’re doing to him.”
The doctor narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but wisely chose to remain silent, goading you to carry on.
The machine beeped. You glanced at the unconscious man in the vat. 
“Before I came here… was he—was Logan—here? And I don’t mean him as Weapon X. I mean it like the man before this. Was he here?”
“No,” Cornelius replied, far too quickly for your liking. He averted his gaze, focusing on the machine in front of him. “I don’t know. What are you asking here, kid?”
This time, you didn’t bother to suppress the frown budding across your face. “I mean,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “did Logan sign up for this?”
“I already told you,” Cornelius gruffed out, “he volunteered.”
“And why should I believe you? Why have you named him Weapon X if all we’re trying to do is cure him? Why did you have to erase his memories? Why have you been forcing him to fight wild animals in the forest? Are you making me attach adamantium to his skeleton because you want to help him, or because you want to manufacture a mindless killing machine?” Your voice had raised several notches in volume, and the doctor seemed to recoil at your words. Sucking in a breath to calm your erratic pulse, you spoke again, “You’re not telling me something, Cornelius.”
The doctor, stunned into silence, took several moments to gather what he wanted to say. A rebuttal was just on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would be fruitless. 
You’ve figured it out.
And he would have to kill you for it. 
“Was he abducted? Kidnapped?” you asked again, voice strained.
“Congratulations,” the doctor sneered, slowly rising to his feet. “You’ve put together the puzzle pieces.”
Bile rose in your throat. “Logan was forced into this. He didn’t want any of it. You… you’re trying to make a monster but—you’re the real monster here.” Slowly, you started backing up. “You were using me. You knew that I wouldn’t help graft the adamantium to his skeleton if I knew the truth. You’re insane. You’re sick.”
With a mangled cry, the doctor lunged forward, knocking you to the ground as his palms found your throat. Pain flourished through your spine as it thudded against the sleek tiles of the floor, a strangled sound crawling from your lips. You clawed at his hands at first, desperate and losing air far too quickly. 
Then, you grappled at his face, scratching at his cheeks until blood welled in tiny droplets from the red marks you drew. This only seemed to enrage him further, fingers pressing harder into your trachea. Dark spots danced about your vision and you gasped for breath, eyes misting over with unshed tears. 
Fuck. You needed to do something. Quick.
Maybe… your powers—
No. No, you’d find another way. You refused to lose control of yourself ever again.
The chair was right beside you. If you could just… hook your foot around one of its legs and tip it forwards…
Your mouth fell open as your lungs begged for mercy, limbs growing weaker with each passing second. You gave it your all to jerk forward, just enough to shift you down and catch the chair with your foot and yank it forwards. 
The heavy metal seat tipped forward slowly, before giving in to its own weight and crashing on top of Cornelius. The bald man howled with pain, and his grip loosened on you momentarily. You hiked your knees upwards and slammed them into his stomach, shoving him away with a yell. Your chest heaved raggedly, greedily swallowing as much air as you could take. 
The doctor was quick to recover from his initial shock. You thought he’d lunge for you again, but instead, he brandished a walkie talkie and yelled, “CODE RED, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW! CODE RED!”
Without a damned clue what ‘code red’ meant, you rushed forward and slammed the emergency lockdown button on the control panel. A haggard sigh of relief left you when thick metal slabs slowly lowered down over the doors.
Cornelius, infuriated, grabbed the back of your head and shoved you down, slamming the side of your face into the plethora of buttons. A loud groan of pain ricocheted across the laboratory, blood seeping from one of your nostrils and slipping into your mouth, running a metallic copper taste along your tongue. He did it again, and again, and again, far too quickly for you to even begin to react. Faintly, you registered a whooshing sound in front of you—one of you must’ve accidentally hit the button that released Logan from his chemical bath. 
You spat blood over the buttons with a snarl, reinvigorated, shooting your hands out to stop him from bashing your face in once more. Twisting your body, you kicked at his knee as hard as you could, which made Cornelius collapse forward. You messily drove your fist into his eye socket, pushing him back, away from the control panel. The doctor fell onto the ground and you kicked at his skull with the heel of your shoe. 
There was blood dripping down your chin. Your nose was throbbing. You were disoriented, vision splitting into blurry duplicates. Dizzy, you dropped to your haunches, crawling as far away as you could from Cornelius.
Noises were coming from the other side of the lab. Where Logan was.
Wincing, you were just about to turn to look before Cornelius’ hand wound around your ankle, yanking you to him with surprising strength. He punched you in the shoulder first, trying to aim for your face. You flailed your limbs, attempting to kick your feet, but he had trapped your legs between his. A struggling whimper shook your lips, breaths coming in fast, staccato beats. The second time he punched you, he hit you dead on. Your vision went dark for a good ten seconds. You could tell one of your eyelids had already swollen shut.
Desperate and panicked, you lurched upwards and bit into whatever you could. You sank your teeth in until red squirted straight into your other eye, and copper flooded your mouth once more. An ear-piercing scream rattled through the lab.
As you furiously wiped away the dark ichor from your eyes, you realized that he wasn’t screaming because of you—not really, at least.
He was screaming because there were three adamantium claws protruding from his abdomen.
And just behind him was Logan.
A terrified garble tore through your own throat. A string of nonsensical words fell from you—ranging from cries for help, prayers to whatever god would listen to you, and incoherent sobbing as pure terror ripped through you, whole and consuming.
There were still wires hanging off of the man’s starkly naked form, dragging against the ground behind him. His skin glistened with the residue from the chemical bath, droplets still falling from his damp hair and rolling over his defined muscles. With a near animalistic growl, he threw Cornelius’ lifeless corpse to the side, his adamantium claws streaking down both your arm and your side in the process. Another wail erupted from you and you curled into a fetal position, cradling your injuries and fruitlessly trying to put as much pressure as you could against the wounds. Blood seeped from you, staining the once-pristine floors with a growing pool of liquid rubies. You were light-headed, tilting your head up to look at Logan standing in front of you. Horror painted your insides with a thick, tar-like substance. 
He made no move to hurt you any further, only regarding you with dark, distant eyes, like he just could just barely recognize your face. He remembered you.
You wanted to plead—beg him for mercy.
You cracked your shaking lips open, but the words lodged firmly in your throat, a sob rippling through your lungs. Hot tears streamed down your bloodied cheeks in fat dollops. 
The mutant surprised you, then. 
He spoke.
“I am…” he croaked out, seeming slightly miffed. It took him another couple of seconds to articulate his next words. His brain had been fried over and over again, the English language was something he had nearly completely forgotten. “I am… dead? I remember… death. Dying.”
You were shaking uncontrollably now. Whether it be because of the terror, or because of the insurmountable blood loss, you weren’t quite sure. Most likely both. 
Voice warbling, you croaked out, “No, Logan. You’re not dead.”
His dark pupils darted to the pool of blood by your side, then moved down to his own hands and claws, practically soaked red. His chest heaved. 
Slowly, you raised a trembling hand to point at the winding metal staircase at the back of the laboratory. “Run, Logan,” you hoarsely whispered. “They’ll be here any minute. You have to go before they catch you again. Go upstairs—there’s a rear window you can escape through.”
The man narrowed his eyes at you. 
He stalked away wordlessly, leaving only droplets of Cornelius’ blood in his wake. 
The tension melted away from your body instantaneously. The urge to cry laid heavy on your conscience, but you shoved down the tears and slowly pushed yourself to your feet, placing pressure on your wounds as you staggered onto your feet. With a grunt, you limped to Cornelius’ corpse, kneeling down to rip his belt and shirt off. 
A low groan rumbled from your chest when you tied the belt over the deep gash Logan had inflicted on you, wrapping his shirt tightly over the leaking wound on your waist. Whether it was an accident or a purposeful move, you had no clue. Immediately, blood seeped through the fabric. You decided not to pay it any mind. 
Faintly, you registered shouting from the other end of the barricaded door. You were running out of time. 
Huffing a curse, you struggled to your feet and stepped over Cornelius, bee-lining for the metal staircase. Upstairs, you could see the droplets of blood Weapon X had left behind. You swallowed heavily, before following them to the open window. 
“Fuck,” you coarsely spat out, glancing down to see snow blanketing the ground nearly at knee-length. Trembling already, you hopped off the windowsill and onto the fire escape’s ladder, gingerly placing each foot on the lower rung until you were near enough to jump down.
The wind whispered frost into your ears as you looked forward, into the dark forest. 
They would kill you if you went back inside. It seemed like you had no other choice but to follow Logan. He was your best chance at survival.
Your sigh misted into an opaque fog as you followed the trail of blood on the snowy forest floor. 
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It’d been hours. 
You had lost nearly all sensation in your feet, numbed by the frigid cold. You supposed that was one upside of the frost—you could no longer feel the pain of your wounds, despite the large blooming of crimson seeping through Cornelius’ shirt. The lids of your eyes were heavy, drooping closed every few seconds before struggling back open. You wrapped your arms around yourself lethargically, struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 
Logan was only a couple minutes in front of you. At least—you thought he was. Hell, he could’ve been five hours away by now, considering how out of it you were. 
You swallowed your throat, dry and scratchy from the whipping wind of the forest. 
Not even ten steps later, you found yourself tipping forward, succumbing to the exhaustion. 
The snow was suddenly flush against your cheek, the world now angled vertically. Black spots danced about your sight. You only barely registered the pain of hitting the ground, a wooden stick poking uncomfortably against your leg. You couldn’t be bothered to move. You couldn’t feel anything—yet it felt like you were burning alive. Perhaps it was the blood loss. Maybe the shame of failure. Or it could’ve simply just been the fact that you’ve been wading around in the snow for hours. A small breath slipped from your lungs and your eyes fell shut. 
A nap wouldn’t hurt… would it?
Just as the corners of your vision waned dark, the shadow of a figure loomed over you. 
The last thing you felt right before you succumbed to the cold were a pair of warm arms winding around you.
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Lights—far too many, far too bright. Your heavy eyelids narrowed as soon as they blinked open, and you gingerly turned your face to the side to avoid the glare of the harsh luminosity. 
There were a couple things you registered in your early stages of rousing. You were no longer cold, bundled in several layers of woolen blankets on what you presumed to be an infirmary bed. You could feel the slight pressure of a proper bandage around your waist, which still throbbed but wasn’t nearly as painful as you remembered. 
And there was a man in a lab coat beside you.
You stared at his back as he busied themself with colorful pills and bottles. Your throat was so dry, it took you several moments to muster yourself to croak out a warbling, “Hello?”
The man seemed to jump out of his shoes, turning abruptly with wide eyes behind thick, rectangular spectacles. “Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He shuffled to your side, watching you with evident concern.
You winced as you propped yourself up on one arm, slowly pulling yourself to sit up on the bed without putting too much weight on your wound. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
He pursed his lips. “That’s unfortunately quite expected—you’ll be feeling that way for a little bit before you get better. You took quite the beating out there—I tried my best to patch you up but I’m afraid the lacerations you got on your abdomen and arm will scar forever. Those bruises on your face, however, will be gone in a week, two tops.” The man paused, as if wanting to ask you a question, but thought better of it, shaking his head. “I’m gonna call somebody here to come talk to you. And I’ll go get you some water and food. Is that okay?”
Still reeling over everything, you nodded slowly, watching as he strode out of the infirmary. 
Not a minute later, you heard the smooth rolling of wheels against tile. A bald man on a wheelchair swiftly entered the room, greeting you with a genuine smile and a bow of his head. 
“You must be Doctor L/N,” he said, stopping just by your bedside. “I’m Charles Xavier. Now, I’m sure you have many questions—so let me try to answer them. You’re currently in Xavier’s School of Gifted Youngsters. I sensed your distress through my own telepathic mutation and had some of my X-Men go pick you and Logan up.”
At the mention of Logan, your muscles tensed, and your gaze snapped upwards to meet his. 
“Logan… he’s here?”
Charles tilted his head, thinking back to the burly, pacing man in his office. “Yes, quite.”
“Is he okay?” you asked softly. 
A wisp of a smile graced Charles’ lips. “He’s fine. A bit disoriented, but his memories are steadily returning. You, I’m more worried about. I know you’re a mutant, Y/N.”
Something dangerous flashed behind your irises. “I’ve never purposefully used my powers on anyone, if that’s what you’re asking. What happened to Logan—was because I was foolish enough to trust bad men.”
“I’m not blaming you, Y/N. You thought you were doing the right thing. Besides, the group who tricked you have been apprehended by the X-Men. They won’t be conducting anymore experiments on mutants,” he said, not unkindly. “I wanted to give you the liberty to explain what your mutation is… and if you can control it.”
“It’s only happened once before,” you whispered, fiddling with your nails anxiously. “I can manipulate matter, I think. Rearrange atoms and molecules in space. Once I start, I can’t control it—so I don’t ever intend to use it again.”
Charles regarded you for a moment, before nodding. “That’s quite the commitment. Would you mind me asking why?”
You hesitated, your teeth worrying into your bottom lip. “The first time I found out about my powers, someone died because of me. There was a car crash and my friend tried helping me and I… I panicked—” Tears quickly blurred your vision and you hiccuped, stopping to furiously wipe them away. “Shards of glass flew everywhere and…”
You trailed off, releasing a frustrated sigh. 
“The cops ruled it as an accident, but I knew it was my fault. I moved out of town, started doing research with a university in molecular biology in hopes of finding out more about myself, when I got an offer to work with this company that ‘helped’ mutants. They lied to me. They were experimenting on them—and I should’ve known better. I thought I was saving Logan’s life.”
Charles hummed in thought, before shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. It was an accident—you didn’t know how to control your powers. But we can help you with that. If you stay, that is.”
Mouth parting in surprise, you leaned forward slightly in confusion. “You… you want me to stay here? After everything I’ve done? What will Logan think?”
“He knows it’s not your fault. There’s a reason he didn’t kill you—and a reason he carried you through the snow until we found the two of you. The deal is still on the table—just think about it. You’d make a valuable asset to our team.” A genuine smile etched over his face before he asked, “Would you perhaps want to see Logan?”
“No!” you exclaimed, a little too quickly. Charles’ eyebrows rose. Arms wrapping around yourself, you gently shook your head, repeating in a quieter tone, “No, thank you.”
The man observed you rather pensively before humming, “Alright, then. I’ll let you get some rest.”
“Thank you.” Despite the tautness of your tone, Charles knew you were wholly grateful. He bowed his head, and wheeled out of the infirmary room, leaving you with your thoughts.
To none of his surprise, leaning against the wall right next to the door, was Logan.
There was a cheap cigar wedged between his lips, hands clutched over the dog tags around his neck. He cocked his head to Charles as a greeting, gruffing out, “Are they alright?”
It was rather amusing to see such a brooding, stoic man lose his wits over a person he barely knew. Logan cared about you, and that made Charles all the more curious.
“I think Y/N’s going to be just fine.”
Logan huffed in something akin to relief, blowing out a puff of opaque smoke. After a long stretch of silence, Logan queried in a strained voice, “Can I see them?”
“It’s best if you give Y/N some time. They’re still a bit rattled over everything,” said the professor, patiently. “Have you gotten your memories back?”
“I think so. I remember most of my life before getting kidnapped. I taught self defense here, right?” Logan muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely sure of himself. When Charles grinned and nodded, Logan spoke again, hesitant. “I remember Y/N. Their face, watching me through the glass. Talking about curing me—helping me. I remember the doctor there trying to kill them once they found out the truth.”
A low growl rumbled within the grizzled man’s chest, and he slumped further against the wall. “What are you going to do with Y/N now?”
“Well, that’s up to them. They are a mutant after all—I offered them a place here. Whether they stay or not is not for me to say.”
This seemed to pique Logan’s interest. “Y/N’s a mutant?”
“Yes,” Charles stated matter-of-factly. “Though, they don’t use their powers because it’s far too dangerous. Which is why I proposed that they stay so we can help. Now, if you excuse me, Logan, I’ve got to grade some papers. Have a good night.”
“Yeah,” replied Logan, distant. He saluted Charles with two fingers as he wheeled away. “G’night.”
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The rest of the X-Men warmed up to you rather quickly. Hank would joke around with you while he did your daily check-up, and Jean, Ororo and Anna introduced themselves with sweet smiles and baked goods that they made just for you. They’d stay with you in the infirmary until late at night, playing boisterous rounds of Uno and exchanging stories of their own childhood mishaps with their mutation. Kurt Wagner was a delight to speak to—you quite enjoyed your conversations with the lively teleporter. Scott Summers was a handsome fellow, who had acquired a broken arm from a training accident, which gave him a good excuse to hang around you. Charles often visited you as well, each time asking once again if you were planning on making your residence here permanent. He even offered you a job to teach the kids here some science—which you kindly declined.
The friendly nature of the mansion and the people residing there really made you want to stay. 
But you knew you shouldn’t. 
Especially not when Logan was so clearly avoiding you—it was a tell-tale sign that you were definitely overstaying your welcome.
You’d only seen him a small handful of times since you arrived. Lingering in the hallways, passing by the door, and once in Charles’ office when you dropped by to ask him a question. He had stalked away with nary a sound, not even bothering to spare you a glance.
So it was quite the surprise when he stepped into the infirmary while you were packing a small duffel bag with travel necessities nearly two weeks later, practically bristling at the thought of you leaving. Leaving when he hadn’t even said a single word to you. His jaw clenched.
“L… Logan?” you asked, nearly dropping the shirt you were holding out of shock. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”
He stared at you for a long while, unsure of what to say. The man was on his way to a bar for a beer or two before he caught sight of you practically flying across the room in a rush to pack. He was not prepared for this conversation at all. A part of him wished you could just read his thoughts like Charles could, because his mind was running a mile a minute. There were just too many things he should’ve said, too many things he waited too long to say. And none of it seemed to want to come out.
So he opted to heave out a grand sigh, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, not once breaking eye contact with you. You had awkwardly resigned to folding the last few pieces of clothing, stuffing them into the bag. 
The action prompted Logan to husk out, “You’re leaving.”
It was more of a statement than a question. Your muscles tensed at his voice. He seemed angry—frustrated—and you weren’t entirely sure if it was directed towards you, or himself.
“I have no place here,” you whispered, words nearly lost to the deafening silence. 
Logan’s brows furrowed. “This is a school—a home for mutants. You belong here.”
Fixing him with a curious expression, you zipped up your bag, shaking your head. “It’s not fair to you, Logan. I can’t just keep pretending that me being around doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“So you’re leaving because of me.” Logan pushed off the wall, stalking towards you until he stood just in front of you. This close, you could smell the faint cigar smoke on him, accompanied with a fresh pine-like aroma. He smelled like the forest, like sitting in front of a fire place with a mug of coffee cradled in your palms. A lump formed in your throat, grip tightening on the strap of the bag.
“I’m leaving for you,” you corrected. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did all those awful things to you. I know it doesn’t absolve me of anything but—I really did think I was helping you. Oh… and thank you. For coming back and saving me.”
The hardness to Logan’s features seemed to soften just a bit. He watched you keenly, studying the genuine tenderness to your eyes, the way your lips screwed to the side in a fruitless effort to stave away the tears. 
“Hey,” he said, stepping even closer. “I forgive you, bub. I forgive you, alright? Stop beating yourself up. Charles told me you thought you were helping me—and I believe it. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, the man truly responsible is dead, thanks to you. You helped me escape, remember?”
Your eyes flickered from the ground to meet his. “Of course I remember.”
A low rumble resonated from Logan’s chest. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing for damn near killing you. I found you passed out in the snow and I—I was terrified. I carried you, worried to death the entire time, thinkin’ you were going to die on me. But Charles found us—and you lived. We both lived. I want you to stay. Hell, if you want to leave, then go ahead. The door’s wide open. But don’t let it be because of me.”
He watched as your shoulders trembled ever so slightly, then sagged as you loosened your hold on the duffel bag. Relief seeped through his bones. For a moment, he was scared you were really going to leave.
Without another word, Logan nodded, stepping back. He turned to walk out of the infirmary, itching for nice, cold beer. Or two. Probably five. Oh, who was he kidding. He could blaze through twenty bottles and barely feel buzzed.
“Logan,” you called out.
He stopped by the doorway without turning.
“Thank you,” you croaked, wiping away a stray tear. A happy one. Maybe you could even ask if the job Charles had offered you was still on the table. 
A minuscule smile played by the corner of his lips. He ducked his head, and strode away.
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ONE MONTH LATER.
The snow was thicker than ever before. Nearly everybody was outside, either making rotund little snowmen with carrots for noses or playing a game of dodgeball. You caught sight of Kurt teleporting just above Rogue to dump a large armful of snow atop her head. You huffed out a laugh from behind the window when she started spewing out a long string of curses, cheeks tinted red from the cold.
Movement from your peripheral vision made you turn your head to look out the other window. You were met with the lovely sight of Logan hauling lumber nearly double his size from just over the hill, a layer of snowflakes icing the top of his dark tresses. You shook your head, wondering why he hadn’t asked anyone for help.
Ever the lone wolf, he was.
Commotion from the other window made you turn once more, watching with a snort when the kids began pelting Logan with dozens of snowballs, laughing with unbridled glee. The chuckles died away when the burly man dropped all the wood he was carrying, rolling up his sleeves with a wolfish grin. They screamed, scurrying away whilst hiccuping with laughter. 
“Quite chilly outside,” Charles’ voice broke out from beside you. “Come have a hot chocolate with me.”
“If this is your way of bribing me to grade your classes’ papers, I’ll have you know I’m not easily swayed,” you teased, though fell into step beside him as he led you into his office. “I’ve got my own class to attend to.”
Despite only knowing Charles for around a month now, the two of you have grown very fond of each other. He was like a big brother to you—just as the rest of the X-Men had gradually become your family. 
The professor scoffed. “That was one time! I just wanted your expertise, was all.” He gestured to the array of mugs on his desk, then to the thermos right beside them. “Please, help yourself. Paper grading wasn’t really what I wanted to discuss with you. I have another proposition to make you.”
You arched a brow while pouring the both of you a generous serving of thick, creamy hot chocolate. “Always with the propositions, Charles,” you said, sipping on your drink with a hum. “What is it?”
“I want you to join our missions.”
The lighthearted nature of your conversation visibly seemed to sour. “What?” you asked, placing your mug down. “Charles, I thought we made this clear—”
“You don’t use your powers, yes. I’m well aware. Let me rephrase. I want to help you… er, reacquaint yourself with your abilities. Just to try it out. And perhaps if all goes smoothly, you’d make a remarkably valuable member on our team. I promise, if we try it out and things go south, I’ll let it go. Never speak a word of it to anybody.” There was an earnest tone to his voice, hopeful and contagiously optimistic.
Your finger traced the rim of the mug, pursing your lips in thought. “Just to try it out?”
He nodded. “Just to try it out. I’m curious for you, Y/N. Haven’t you ever wanted to be able to control your powers?”
“More than anything in the entire world,” you murmured quietly, voice cracking. 
It took me a while to control my powers, too, Charles said, but his lips weren’t moving. It took you a moment to realize that he was speaking to you telepathically. The key is patience. And I do believe with enough time, you can gain control of yours as well. Imagine how many children who are struggling with their own mutations you’d be able to help if you had a grasp of your powers. 
“You’re one hell of a motivational speaker,” you snarked after a moment to mull over his offer, despite the smile fiddling at the corner of your lips. “Alright, Charles. You convinced me. When do we start?”
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The large, antique grandfather clock in your office merrily trilled thrice just as the hands turned to three in the afternoon. You glanced away from the homework papers you were grading, before filing them away for you to finish off later. You were in need of a long overdue break. Rising from your chair, you groaned softly as your bones popped with the stretch, rolling your shoulders to ease the mild tension. 
Training all night with Charles yesterday certainly took both a physical and mental toll on you.
You needed to get out of your office for a bit—take a walk to clear your head. As you donned your coat and a dark yellow beanie to tuck just over the top of your ears because they grew particularly cold in the harsh winters, you strode out the doors. 
Before you could make your way to the snowy outdoors, you passed by one of the training rooms, where you heard a familiar gruff voice.
Logan was teaching a group of about a dozen kids—self-defense class, if you could recall. He was moving his arms about animatedly, demonstrating with a dummy that seemed to be a brush away from falling apart. The kids were watching with rapt fascination, gasping in unison when Logan speared the poor thing straight through the abdomen. 
A small grin splayed over your features as you leaned against the doorway.
A young boy raised his hand, asking, “When are we gonna be able to practice?”
Logan sheathed his claws and crossed his arms. “I’ll let you practice with your own dummies next week. But for now you just watch and learn—Y/N? What’re you doin’ here?”
Blinking at suddenly being shoved into the spotlight, you sheepishly stepped forward and waved to the kids. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss is about with Mr. Howlett’s famous self-defense class. Heard it’s the students’ second favorite class.”
“Oh, yeah?” Logan chuckled, arching an eyebrow to the rest of the class. “And what would be their favorite, then?”
You grinned. “Mine, of course.” The kids groaned in protest, though laughing at your blatant sarcasm. You waved them away with a roll of your eyes. “Oh, hush. You guys love science.”
Snorting, Logan propped his fists onto his hips and directed a roguish grin towards you. “It’s not a competition—even though they obviously like me better.” He turned back to the dummy with a nod. “Anyways, where was I—er, yes, Rogue?”
The student’s arm was stuck up in the air, an excited grin painted over her lips. “Why don’t you and Professor L/N try dueling each other? I’m sure it’d teach us a lot more than that dummy,” Rogue drawled in her thick Southern accent. The rest of the students murmured their agreement, bobbing their heads to the idea. Besides, they were all curious about your infamous mutation—they’d never seen you in action before.
Immediately, your stomach dropped and you were quick to shake your head just enough for Logan to see. His features seemed to soften with understanding. 
“That’s enough, settle down,” Logan gruffed. “Professor L/N came here to watch, it would be unfair to spring an entire demonstration on them without any warning. The dummy’ll do just fine. Look, it’s in tip-top shape!” His burly fist wrapped around the dummy’s throat.
And the head popped right off.
Logan blinked, stunned. The class burst into laughter. You joined them, hiding a smile behind your palm. Logan watched you keenly, before a crooked smile broke through his rough features, chuckling lowly under his breath.
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“I’m sorry about them,” he said, making his way to you once he had dismissed all his pupils (though not before assigning them a butt-load of homework that made all of them groan exasperatedly). “I know you weren’t expecting that.”
Waving his words away, you were quick to shake your head. “No, no, it’s alright. I’m just… not entirely comfortable with using my powers yet. Charles and I are still working through it—I’m not really at the stage of combating an experienced mutant as yourself. Anyways, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of school-related errands to run.”
You crossed your arms with a hesitant quirk of your lips to assure him that you were okay, watching him keenly as he tried to mirror your expression. It came out more as an awkward stretch of his mouth, so he dropped it soon after. 
Logan sucked on the rooftop of his mouth, before stoutly nodding, and turned around to walk away. You’d mentioned he probably had school-related errands to run. Hah. As if Logan ever worked outside of the classes he taught. All he had in mind was to head over to a bar and drink as many beers as the barkeeper would allow him. 
By the time he reached the doorway, Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks. He could feel your eyes watching him go, practically searing the skin on the back of his neck.
“God damn it,” he whispered quietly beneath his breath. He couldn’t just leave you alone. Not when his class thrust you into the spotlight like that. Definitely not because he felt an irrepressible urge to spend more time with you. And especially not because he thought that little grin of yours was so darned cute. Of course not. 
He turned back to you with a set expression, jaw clenched tight. If you didn’t know any better, he appeared to be angry. Or constipated. One of the two.
Either way, you were surprised to hear him addressing you by the doorway, in a brusque tone.
“The school day’s over. I’m heading out to grab a drink. You wanna come with?” 
It took you a moment to respond, a little too frazzled to formulate a coherent thought.
“Yeah,” you finally answered, slightly breathless. Logan pointedly looked away when you beamed at him. “Yeah, I’d love to.”
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His thigh was pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him through his jeans. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which leaned against the bar’s countertop, palms cradled around his tenth (or was it his eleventh?) frosty mug of beer.
You were slowly nursing your fifth drink, snorting into the rim when Logan made an off-hand comment about how stupid Scott looked on one of their most recent missions. 
“I take it you don’t like him?”
“Who?” Logan asked, turning his head so he could look at you. Beneath the dim amber-glow of the bar’s lighting, your skin appeared flushed, eyes just a tad brighter. You were too damned close to him. 
Nose wrinkling, you nudged his shoulder with yours. “Scott, dummy.”
His eyebrow rose. “Why, do you want me to like him? Do you like him?”
The questions made you splutter beer all over the counter as you choke-laughed, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “You’re not answering my question, Lo.” You began giggling again, before downing the rest of your mug, swaying slightly on the leather stool. Logan had half a mind to clamp his palm over your thigh to keep you from tipping over. 
“I like Scott, yeah. He’s nice. I know he has a thing for Jean though—I’ve been trying to convince him to ask her out but Scott keeps saying it isn’t the right time. Jean likes him all the same, too. They’re just really stupid.” A fond smile grew on your lips and you began laughing once more. 
Logan watched you in amusement, just before ordering another beer for himself. You were a giggly drunk, Logan realized, as you buried your face into your hands as uncontrollable laughter shook through you.
“Alright, that’s enough drinks for you. What’s got you crackin’ up, bub?” Logan sighed in part-exasperation and part-mirth when you leaned back so far your stool began to capsize. He was quick to shoot his arm out and yank you back forward. This only made you laugh harder, for reasons unbeknownst to him. 
“I just—” You had to pause to heave a breath through your cackling. “Your hair just looks so funny—why does it stand up like that?” 
God, you were so drunk. Your hand reached out to pat down the tufts of hair sticking upwards, but missed the mark and instead brushed over his jaw, slightly prickly with day-old stubble. 
Logan watched you carefully as your laughter died away, a strange look shadowing your once gleeful one. His eyes flickered down to your lips, which were parted ever so slightly in thought. “You look much younger than you used to—back in that tank.” 
Gently, he captured your wrist and stroked his thumb over your palm once, before setting it back down by your side. “Let’s go home. You’re drunk.”
“Yes, sir. ” You mock-saluted as he helped you off the stool and offered his arm when you nearly toppled over your own feet. 
You swayed to and fro when walking back to the mansion, hiccupping between every giggle as you told Logan about this one time Kurt teleported into the kitchen and scared you so badly you hit him with a frying pan. Logan let himself laugh at that one.
By the time the two of you reached your room, a good night was right on the tip of his tongue before it was yanked away from him when you grabbed him by the shirt collar and tugged him towards you in a drunken fashion, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system. A startled noise fell from his lungs, and the corner of your eyes wrinkled as you smiled. You swiftly planted a soft kiss to his cheek, nose slotted right against his cheekbone. He was frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react. 
“You’re a sweetheart. Good night, Lo,” you murmured into his skin with a lopsided smile. 
You were drunk. So very drunk.
Logan had to remind himself of this when you pulled away. You wouldn’t have done that if you were sober. 
The door groaned as you pushed it open, moonlight spilling over your features. You promptly slammed the door in his face, and he heard you giggling behind it just a second after.
He wasn’t able to snap out of his reverie until an entire minute later. 
“G’night, bub,” he mumbled, knowing full and well that you were probably passed out on top of your bed by now. No doubt you’d have a raging hangover tomorrow. He shook his head, before heading off to his own room, a warm sensation clawing at his chest.
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The familiar voice of a certain professor rang out across the kitchen, and you groaned at the sudden noise. The hangover headache pulsating through your skull wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when you had initially woken up, but it was still there. And Charles most certainly wasn’t helping.
“Morning,” he exclaimed with a knowing smile, eyeing you with a look you misliked. You grumbled under your breath, before shoveling a spoonful of scrambled eggs into your mouth so you didn’t have to respond to him. Charles didn’t seem to mind, continuing his amiable chatter. “I noticed you weren’t in last night.”
Humming in confirmation, you lifted your mug to guzzle down more apple juice. 
“Funny coincidence,” Charles quipped, wheeling up right beside you. Without even looking at him, you just knew that his eyebrows were raised suggestively. “Logan was also nowhere in the mansion yesterday.”
You scowled, then set the mug down. “We just had a couple drinks together.”
“Mmh, right.” Charles narrowed his eyes, clearly in disbelief. “Well, nice to see that the two of you have… warmed up to each other. I’ve got to head back now but don’t forget about our session at three—just because you’re hungover doesn’t mean you can skip out on me.”
A discontent noise erupted from your lungs and you stuck your tongue out at his back when he turned away. 
“I saw that,” said Charles, amusement lacing his tone. “Well, I didn’t actually see it. I know you did it, though.”
And with that, he left. 
You groaned, before lowering your head to rest against the cool kitchen countertop. 
A moment later, a voice disrupted the rare-found quiet. Logan. 
“You alright, bub?”
When you lifted your face up, you blinked away the colorful blurs spotting your vision, Logan coming into view. He was wearing a simple white tank top tucked into a pair of faded jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. You eyed his biceps warily, which glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. You swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat. 
“I’m good. What’re you up to?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Logan replied sheepishly. “Was in the training room all night.”
He leaned against the doorway, a mild smile itching at his lips upon observing your disheveled state. Your hair was mussed, wearing a simple wrinkly white shirt and a pair of grey shorts. The expression on your face told him that you were still working off the hangover.
“Wanna talk about it?” you asked, patting the seat beside you.
Logan pursed his lips, before moving towards you. “Yeah,” he said, swinging his leg over the chair. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”
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The cold of the porcelain sent a shiver up your spine as you slumped against the toilet seat, grumbling under your breath. Logan watched you keenly as he dampened a towel, bunching it up in his hand, kneeling down in front of you. 
Your first mission as an X-Man was nothing short of disastrous.
You’d warned Charles—told him you weren’t ready to use your powers in an uncontrolled setting—but he’d assured you that you’d be fine. Besides, the rest of your teammates were there for you.
Except the Brotherhood had taken down everybody else and you were the last person standing—and you lost control of your powers. Again.
It wasn’t until Logan stumbled towards you, pushing through the tornado of glass shards whirling around your hyperventilating form, barely even noticing the cuts appearing over his skin. His healing factor was quick to weave together the broken skin—all that mattered was getting to you. Your explosive powers were enough to severely alarm the Brotherhood, and they thankfully retreated soon after your outburst, though he doubted they’d stay away for too long. 
Logan had grabbed you, pulling you close until your face was flush against his chest, cradling you atop the cold, hardened dirt, mumbling sweet nothings that you couldn’t really make out into your hair. When the air stilled, you pulled your face away, tear-stricken and bloodied. 
The incident was far too similar to the first time you used your powers—when your best friend’s life was taken as a consequence. 
A single, searing tear meandered down your face at the memory, and you bit down on your lip to quell the sob rising in your throat. 
“Hey, bub.” Logan took your chin between his fingers, grounding you back to reality. It was just him and you—in a small bathroom. He was close, so close that you could see the buzzing lights reflected in the burnt umber of his irises, or how he had a small, faded birthmark just beside his left eye. He tilted your head up so you’d meet his concerned gaze. “It’s okay. You did good. You drove ‘em away. We would’ve all been in hot shit if it weren’t for you. Storm was knocked unconscious, Kitty and Rogue had their powers stripped away, Scott was no match against Quicksilver, and the rest of us were this close to being ripped apart. You did good.”
Your stomach lurched uneasily. “Feels more like I fucked everything up. I told Charles I wasn’t ready.”
Instead of a reply, Logan merely sighed, shaking his head. Softly he swiped the damp towel across the bloody gashes on your face, his fingers on your chin moving to cup your other cheek. His palm was cold against the flushed heat of your face.
“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered, the usual gruff tone of his voice nowhere to be found. “Wish you had the healing factor instead of me.”
“Nah,” you replied softly, wincing as you leaned forward, closer to him. The large slash over your abdomen from a broken metal pipe Magneto sent hurtling your way burned with every shift of your body. “You’d be dead a thousand times over if it weren’t for your healing factor. And I’m really glad you’re not dead.”
The towel on your cheekbone paused for a second. Logan scrutinized you for a moment, before returning to the task at hand. “Yeah, I guess I’m glad, too.”
A comfortable silence thickened between the two of you, only interrupted by your quiet groans of pain, which were always followed up by Logan’s sheepish apology.
“I still haven’t graded the kids’ homework papers—they’re expecting it back on Monday,” you gritted out, hand shooting forward to grip Logan’s shoulder, nails digging into his collarbone when he moved down to clean up the shallow wound across your torso. 
He quirked an eyebrow towards you in amusement. “You’re crazy, you know that? Almost died today and all you’re thinkin’ about is grading papers. Pfft.”
“That’s not all I’m thinking about,” you weakly protested, smacking his hand away when he playfully pinched your thigh.
After wiping away all the crusted blood and dirt on your brand new X-Men suit, he was satisfied to see that your gash wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. He hauled himself onto the edge of the bathtub so he was sitting right across from you. “Yeah? What else are you thinking about?”
“You.” The single word came out as nothing but a low mutter. 
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or worried,” he replied with a roguish grin, pupils darting between your eyes and your raw-bitten lips. 
You huffed out a laugh. “Maybe both.” His forehead leaned against yours as you breathed him in, relishing in his calming presence. “I really like you, Lo.”
Those five words were what spurred him to push forward, slanting his lips onto yours, stealing your breath away. You made a small noise of surprise, before practically melting into him, looping your sore arms over his neck and tugging him all the closer. He kissed you slowly, careful about where to place his hands, because your body was littered with fresh scars. He settled on just above your waist, smoothing his thumbs out over the back of your ribs, as if to constantly reassure himself that you were here. You were okay.
His nose bumped into yours, and it hurt to smile—oh, it practically burned with each kiss—but you smiled into him anyway. Because for Logan, it was worth the pain.
“Ow,” you lightly complained when he accidentally knocked his knee against your busted one. “Watch it, old man.”
A growl caught in his throat. “You know, I was gonna say I really liked you, too, but I don’t think that applies anymore.”
You burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at your stomach a second later, moaning out with pain. “Don’t make me laugh! You ass!”
He could only smile at that, roping you towards him once more with his fingers anchored over your jaw. This time, the kiss was hot and heavy, more confident. Your hands ran through his hair, gently tugging at his roots, which made pleasant shivers spider down his spine. It was needy with want, his kisses wandering from your lips to the apples of your cheeks, to your trembling throat. 
The hand on your back was only starting to traverse downwards when the door flung open, revealing a smug Rogue and an awfully mortified Kurt just behind her.
“I knew it! I knew y’all were a thing!” Rogue called out, clapping her hands excitedly. “Scott totally owes me twenny bucks!”
She scuttled away gleefully, leaving the blue elf staring at the two of you with wide, amber eyes, completely still.
“You can close the door, Kurt,” you hesitantly told him, before Logan could snarl out something unsavory. You were uncomfortably perched halfway between the toilet seat and Logan’s lap, with his hand flush over your ass. 
“Er… right… I’ll just use the bathroom upstairs,” he breathily stumbled, before teleporting away in a hazy cloud of sulphuric fumes. 
“Damn elf didn’t close the door. Of fuckin’ course.” Logan groaned, pulling himself away from you with a scowl. “You alright, darlin’?”
An embarrassed grin replaced the initial shock of being found. “Yeah, I think so. You?”
“Worst night of my life. The entire school’s gonna know by tomorrow,” Wolverine grumbled, before fondly glancing towards you. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, though.”
You hobbled up with his support, pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek. “You think the entire team bet money on us?”
“Oh, yeah,” Logan chortled as he helped you out of the communal bathroom, heading upstairs to your bedroom. “Charlie bet a hundred bucks on us. I heard him talking to Storm about it.”
You side-eyed him with amusement. “So did he win?”
“Nope,” Logan said, popping the ‘p’, looking far too smug to be ripping away a hundred dollars from his old friend. “Thought neither of us would have the balls to confess until next month.”
“You’re sick,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Did you kiss me just to spite him?”
“I kissed you because I wanted to,” countered Logan, shoving the door to your room open with his shoulder. “Professor losing a hundred bucks was just the cherry on top, you know?”
You sank onto your bed, dragging Logan with you, barely giving him enough time to slam the door shut. “Yeah,” you mumbled, pulling him into yet another kiss. “You’re awful, Lo.”
“Love you, too.”
Placing your hand on his chest, you pulled away hesitantly, unsure if you heard him right. “Yeah?”
Logan smiled, all warm and genuine. “Yeah.”
2K notes · View notes
fandomnerd9602 · 4 days
Text
Jamie Logan approaches Y/N, a Deadpool variant…
Jamie; I smell you
Y/N: do I need to shower again?
Jamie; no. But I smell your pheromones.
She caresses Y/N’s chest and arms…
Jamie: I know you want me just as much as I want you.
Y/N: oh baby! We’re gonna need a smut fic to continue this!!
Jamie grabs Y/N and runs into their bedroom…
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68 notes · View notes
imyourbratzdoll · 22 days
Note
I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.
hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.
summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.
warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man. 
You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.
“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)
“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.
“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.
“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”
Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him. 
It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you. 
“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.” 
He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup. 
You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces. 
“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”
“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes. 
Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?
A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips. 
He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.
“Do you mean…?!”
Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.
“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.
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The Breaking Point | Logan Howlett
logan howlett x f!reader ✧ oneshot
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Summary: The reader and Logan have been bantering since the moment they met, and the other members of the X-Men have had enough of the tension and arguments. They decide to take matters into their own hands and shove the two towards the ultimate breaking point.
A/N: I swear on everything that I love that I started this one shot with every intention for it to be just fluff and yet it STILL gets angsty. At this point, I think I have a chronic condition of liking to write about hurt. Well, it led to this beautiful little gem of a story so I'll allow it. Love you and all and keep up with the dreaming 🤍
Warnings: fluffiest fluff i've written in a while, angst near the end, endless banter
Word Count: 4,850
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Have you ever hated someone so much that when they walk into the room all you want to do is punch them in the nuts?
Yeah, me too. Only problem? No matter how hard I punch him, I could never permanently wound him.
"Could you eat any louder? I'm genuinely curious."
I ignore Logan's rumble of a voice, gritting my teeth to keep from starting a fight in the middle of our team dinner. As we sit in the large dining room of Charles Xavier's mansion and school, I focus intently on the noodles before me and not the annoying wolf-man across the table. The X-Men around us keep talking, Logan and I's arguments a normal occurrence in the Mansion.
"God, you're so annoying," Logan mutters, and I drop my fork, staring at him wide-eyed from across the table.
"I didn't even do anything! How could I possibly be annoying you?" I exclaim, my voice incredulous. He gives me a curt smile and damn it if it doesn't still make my heart turn molten. That last tidbit only makes me more infuriated since I can't even control my body around him.
"I think it's just your presence, sweetheart," Logan responds with a wink.
"My presence?" I laugh, grabbing my fork again and pointing it at the man across from me, "At least I'm not the one with a personality that ranges from grumpy to grumpier."
"I'm only grumpy around you," He quips.
"I mean, do you just enjoy being a giant, walking storm cloud? I bet babies scream when you walk past."
Scott chokes on his food beside me to hide his laugh. Neither Logan nor I seem to notice that the table's gone somewhat silent to revel in our showdown.
"No, but I make women scream all the time."
It's Rogue's turn to let out a surprised cough. Despite myself, I find my cheeks heating. I'm glad for being in the midst of an argument, though, so the flushing of my cheeks gives away nothing.
"In terror? I'm sure," I coolly respond, stabbing a piece of chicken to keep from stabbing the Wolverine. Logan sits back in his chair, a smug, heart-twisting smirk on his face.
"Whatever you tell yourself, Y/N." He nods his head towards me, those damn hazel eyes burning into my soul without even trying, "We both know you dream of me every night."
"Oh I do," I concede, painting a look of desperation on my face that makes his brows furrow, "Every night I dream of how I could kill you,"
Logan rolls his eyes, but I see his jaw clenching nonetheless and smirk, knowing I've gotten under his skin.
"Even if I could die, you couldn't kill me if you tried, sweetheart."
I nod my head in acknowledgment, but then reach out with my powers to his food and with a single thought, I order the atoms to rearrange from his dinner and into a fat, squirming toad. He lets out a small noise of surprise and shoves back from the table as the toad hops down and skitters away.
"No, but maybe I'll turn you into a toad like your stir-fry, sweetheart." I look off in the distance, plastering on my best thinking face, "Do you think you'd still have claws? That'd be-"
"That's it," He growls, shoving away from the table and letting his claws rip out. This sends our team from amused observation to panicked mediation. I shove myself up to, holding my arms out.
"What are you gonna do, wolf boy? Come on, try!" I taunt. Chairs are screeching all along the table as our friends shoot to their feet, voices crying out to placate us.
"Calm down you two!"
"What are you, children?"
"Not again! We can't afford to keep buying new dinner tables!"
Logan jumps deftly onto the table, stalking across it and knocking over food as he does until he jumps back down on my side, getting into my face. I stand my ground, bringing him nose-to-nose with me as I glare up at him. The air is charged with tension between us, waiting to snap. My fogged brain doesn't if I want to punch him or...
I shake away the other thought, trying to forget about it.
"Oh I'll show you what I'll do," Logan whispers, the rasp in his voice running down my spine and knocking my heart from rhythm.
"That is enough!" Charles shouts, and the room goes silent immediately. Logan clenches his jaw and looks over to Charles as I do the same. The professor sighs, hanging his head and massaging his temple as if he's developed a massive headache.
"Good Lord, if only you two could hear what was whizzing between your minds. That was so confusing." Professor Xavier huffs out a sigh before wheeling over in front of us.
"Y/N, go find the toad you turned Logan's dinner into and please refrain from turning him into one as well," Charles orders. Logan snickers, probably about to egg on to his statement before Charles turns his head sharply towards him.
"Logan, please refrain from aggravating Miss Y/L/N. I much prefer you as a man, not an amphibian. Although you would be quieter," He adds on, making me snort. I send Logan a pointed look, which he just rolls his eyes to and looks back to Charles.
"You two need to learn to at the very least tolerate each other," the Professor commands, shaking his head incredulously, "You work so well together on missions and you'd be such great...friends if you would just set down this petty feud. Now go to bed both of you, think about ways you can be more civil."
He turns and wheels away, leaving Logan and I standing tensely beside each other and feeling like scolded children. With a shake of my head, I turn and make my way towards my room which just so happens to be right across from Logan's. He trails me, his silent presence overbearing on my mind and heart.
"You ever seen the Professor that flustered?" I ask, desperate to break the charged air between us. Logan lets out a short laugh from beside me.
"I thought his head was gonna explode."
I smile, casting a glance over at the Wolverine, "You'll make him go crazy."
We stop in front of our doors and Logan turns to look down at me, cocking an eyebrow amusedly, "Me? Sweetheart, you're just as bad as I am."
Something about the way he looks at me makes my heart trip. Maybe it's the proximity I don't think either of us realizes, or maybe it's the smirk that drives me crazy, but I take a subtle step back before I do something I'll regret.
"Careful, Howlett. I'll still turn you into a toad," I warn. His smirk turns into that damn half-smile that makes my stomach wild with butterflies.
"Don't let the Professor hear you say that, Y/N. You won't be his favorite anymore,"
I laugh, walking back towards my door, "I think you've been his favorite since the moment you crashed through our doors."
Logan lifts an eyebrow at me, "Is that why you hate me?"
I freeze, a weird, strangling sensation settling into my chest. Does he...does he really think that I hate him?
"Logan," I start, my eyes growing serious in a way that makes the teasing smirk drop from his face, "Logan, do you think I hate you?"
He clenches his jaw, turning more serious than I've ever seen him be. In the hazel of his eyes, I see horrors of the decades he's lived on this Earth flash through his gaze. It makes my heart drop to the floor, and I almost walk over and pull him into a hug.
"It's better if you do." He almost whispers, and then turns and walks into his room, shutting the door behind him.
I stand frozen for a moment in the hallway, trying to work through what he just said. Shaking my head with a sigh, I turn and enter my own room. That night, as I get ready for bed, I can't get my mind off of the Wolverine.
Something stirs in my chest, because the Professor isn't wrong about what he said earlier. From the first moment Logan and I met, we fit together so well that it terrified me. Not to mention that he was breathtakingly attractive in a rugged sort of way that made my inhibitions turn to mush. My attraction stayed for a grand total of ten minutes when he began to argue and pick on me like a seventh grade boy.
I tell everyone that I hate him, that I can't stand him. And I can't, that's true. The whole truth, though? The whole truth is that he only annoys me because I have no control over my body, thoughts, and feelings when I'm around him. I've always managed to keep romance to a one-night-stand sort of level, but every time I banter with Logan something in me craves his easy nature and the way he takes no shit. I need his banter like I need the air I breathe, because without it I feel like I'll get lost in the mundane of my routine. Logan makes me feel...alive in ways that I can't explain. And, as much as he'd never admit it, he's got the softest, kindest heart out of anyone I know.
And sometimes...sometimes I feel like he argues with me to keep me at a distance.
My proof? Every time we have a rare civil conversation like the one we just had, he shuts down for a few days with me. He avoids me, and then when he can't anymore, his usually petty and teasing insults turn grumpier than usual and more charged. It's almost like every time we naturally gravitate closer, Logan shoves us apart.
The only question is why?
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Later That Week
"Hey Y/N, I need your help."
I turn my gaze from the papers I'm grading from the science class I teach at the school to Jean who's just walked into my classroom. A smile blooms on my face and I stand from my chair, leaning against my desk as she walks over to me.
"Yeah, anything. What's up?"
"It's Scott and I's anniversary tomorrow night and the Professor just booked me for a mission. Do you think you could cover it for me? I know it's so last minute but Scott and I have had this night planned for weeks," Jean explains.
"Yeah, of course! You need a break as it is," I inform, smiling wryly at my friend, "Go have fun with Scotty. I've got it covered."
A relieved, ecstatic smile explodes onto her face and she rushes forward, pulling me into a hug, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the actual best!"
I laugh, hugging her back before moving back towards my desk chair to continue grading.
"Anytime. Just send over the details tonight," I reply. She nods, affirming she'll do so before thanking me again and breezing out of the room to probably go tell Scott the good news.
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The Next Night
I hum to myself as I collect the supplies I'll need for the mission tonight. My hands are busy as I traipse through the supply room in the basement of the Mansion, grabbing various weapons and medical supplies and stashing them in the duffle bag I've got planted on the table in the center of the room.
Storm is set to be on the mission with me, and told me that she'd be getting the jet ready while I grabbed the supplies. So, once the duffle is packed, I sling it over my shoulders and make my way over the hanger. Just as she said, the jet sits humming and ready, the coordinated no doubt already punched in. The back hatch rests open, beckoning me in. As I walk up the ramp and into the belly of the jet, my eyes search for Ororo.
"Storm?" I call out, my brows furrowed as I search the cockpit. When I don't see her, I shrug. She must be grabbing something.
In the mean time, I stash the duffle into an overhead compartment. Just as I step back from doing so, an air-capturing presence enters the jet.
"You've got to be shitting me."
My heart hits the actual floor and I drop my head.
"This isn't happening," I mutter to myself before turning to see Logan standing in the entrance of the jet.
Like I predicted, he hasn't talked to me since the dinner incident. He'd barely stay in the same room as me, so seeing him sends an unwelcome bolt of joy through my soul. My stupid, traitorous heart flips in my chest at the sight of him.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"I could ask you the same thing," He grits out, setting down a duffle that matches the one I made, "I'm covering for Jean."
Everything suddenly snaps into focus. I blow out a breath, shaking my head.
"That little traitor," I grumble, before looking at a confused and aggravated Logan, "I'm covering for Jean too."
The realization hits him at the same time and he shakes his head. He turns to exit the open hatch of the jet, eager to get as far away from me as fast as possible.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't make a sudden shot of hurt explode in my chest.
"Fuck this," Logan mutters, but before he can leave, the door to the jet shuts. He stumbles back, a confused look overtaking his features.
"What the-"
That's when the engine revs to life.
I jog over to the empty cockpit to see the controls lighting up and the auto-pilot system taking over. Before either of us can do anything, since neither of us know how to fly, the jet is pulling out of the hanger and lifting into the sky to God knows where. I step back, shaking my head and looking over to where Logan has stepped up beside me. We share a knowing look.
"Storm." We say in sync. As if on cue, a voice radios in from the controls.
"Come in lovebirds, do you copy?" Storms amused voice announces. I grit my jaw and lean forward to respond.
"Storm, take us down or I swear-"
"No can do, you two need some bonding time." That was another voice, the Professor's voice. Shock crashes over me.
"Professor, you too?" Logan sputters.
"You two will learn to behave at the very least. Hopefully being stuck together will help the team spirit." He responds.
"Stuck together?" I question, my brows furrowing in confusion, "But the mission said that-"
"Oh there's no mission. The jet's set to fly a round trip for the night." Jean pipes in.
"Like hell it is! Bring us down right now!" Logan growls out, and I almost laugh at the bit of fear in his eyes. He's always been uncomfortable flying and I've always made fun of him for it. It's at least of some consolation to know this is how we're stuck together.
"I'm sorry, you're breaking up. What was that?" Storm asks, amusement lacing her tone.
"Ororo-" I start.
"I can't...must be...signal's going..."
Anyone could tell she's faking it.
"When I get back, you're all spending the weekend as cockroaches!" I call out.
"Have fun!" Jean and Storm call back before the line cuts out.
Logan begins muttering to himself before settling down in the pilot's chair and fiddling with random buttons. My eyes widen suddenly and I lurch forward, grabbing his arm.
"What the hell are you doing? Trying to get us killed? Neither of us know how to work this thing!" I object. He shakes off my touch and stands, towering over me and making me stumble back a few steps. He matches me for every one until I finally find my ground.
"There's no way in hell I'm staying trapped up here with you," Logan spits, and yet again my stupid heart flinches at the low blow.
I must flinch slightly in reaction as well, because some of the anger drains from Logan's face, being replaced with something I can't quite place. He sighs, cursing himself before taking a step closer to me.
"Y/N, I didn't mean it like-"
"No, it's fine." I cut him off, giving him a curt smile and cursing myself for not being able to hide the hurt. I take a few steps back and turn, walking into the belly of the jet, "Let's just get through this night."
I can practically feel Logan's unspoken words hanging in the air before I hear him sigh and mumble something to himself. I drop down into one of the chairs in the back, propping my feet up on the empty chair next to me and letting my eyes slip closed. I so desperately want to be able to sleep the night away to avoid any more interactions with Logan that can break my heart open and reveal the feelings I've denied for months. As I sit with my eyes shut, though, time passes and I can't seem to find sleep.
Maybe it has something to do with the domineering presence in the chair across from mine.
I can feel his gaze burning into me without even opening my eyes, can feel the way he wants to break the tense silence that settles over the cabin of the jet. The air is so thickly charged that I think for a moment that one spark could set the jet on fire. When I finally have had so much of the silence that I can barely take it anymore, I let out a sigh.
"Why do you do that?" I ask, my eyes still shut. The silence turns still.
"Do what?" He grumbles back. I drop my feet from the seat and open my eyes, turning forward so we face each other in the cabin.
"Every time I start to think we can be friends, you shut down. You ignore me and whenever you do talk to me you're as cold as ice with a temper that could make Hell freeze over." I don't hold back, so fed up with the same cyclic behavior from the last few years of knowing Logan.
"Y/N," Logan starts, then goes silent for a long while. Finally, his almost...tortured gaze meets mine, "We can't be friends. We'll never be friends."
I thought what he'd said before hurt, but that was a scrape compared to the knife he just shoved in my heart and twisted. I clench my jaw to keep from visibly recoiling again at the blow.
It's getting too much. It's all getting too much. The tension, the attraction, the long silences and bursts of charisma that make me want to crawl into his arms and stay forever. I can't take how off and on he is with me, I just can't. Not when I'm beginning to realize that I want him so desperately and not just physically or not just when he's in a good mood. I want every part of him because he makes me feel like I'm someone, because I feel like I was asleep until I met him. And to see the way he can so blatantly disregard me and shut down with me and say that...say that we can't even be friends?
It's too much. I can't take it.
My emotions bubble over and I make a small, tortured sound before shoving to my feet and storming to the back of the jet. I make sure to keep my back firmly to him to hide the angry and heartbroken tears that begin to well up from his keen eyes, but there's no mistaking my sharp intake of breath and shuddering shoulders.
"Y/N," his voice is like a poisonous honey, killing me slowly and soothing my very soul as it breaks me, "Y/N, just talk to me."
I let out a humorless laugh and whirl around to see him on his feet and walking over. When he sees the tears in my eyes and my emotions painted clearly, I know I can't hide from him. He freezes in his step, his hazel eyes like burning fires and every muscle in his body tensed as if he were holding them taut to keep him from doing something.
"No, don't-" I cut myself off in time to shove down the sob that wants to shudder through me, "You have no right. You have no right to keep pulling me in and-and shoving me away. I can't take it anymore, I can't"
The tension has finally reached its snapping point and I'm breaking first, I don't even care anymore. His face is impossible to read and it burns because I can't exactly storm away from him when we're tens of thousands of feet in the sky.
"Sweetheart, listen I-"
That's my breaking point.
"No, don't you dare 'sweetheart' me," I grit out, not even bothering to stop the burning hot tears that race down my cheeks, "God, you don't even get it, do you?"
Logan's face is one of pure shock and pain—pain for what, I can't place. What I can see is the way his large hands keep flexing and unflexing, almost as if he's using every muscle to keep from walking up to me. His jaw is clenched so tight that I'm surprised his teeth don't crack. I dig my hands into my hair and groan in frustration before dropping them back down to my sides. I don't even give him a chance to respond.
"Every time you mess with me, every time you speak to me, every time you're even near me, Logan you are pushing me further and further down a very steep cliff and I can't stop it, I have tried." I take a gasping breath, not even caring that I'm baring every feeling to him that I haven't even processed with myself yet, "And you keep ignoring me and saying we can't be friends and then the next thing I know you're messing with me again and-"
"I'm not trying to hurt you, sweet-" He stops himself briefly, changing the word he was going to use, "Y/N. You just have to understand-"
"You are breaking me, Logan!" I shout, my vision blurring from the unbridled tears, "I am falling in love with you and you are breaking me!"
He goes as silent as death before me, everything within him going still. I don't seem to notice, and even if I did, I wouldn't care. I'm halfway past shattering and I can barely control myself. Years of pent up emotion is spilling out, and damn it I'm going turn all of my friends back at the Mansion into worms.
"What did you just say?" His voice is no more than a whisper, but I'm not listening.
"Let me hate you," I beg, my voice beseeching for mercy and my fists itching to slam into his stupid, perfect face, "Please, why can't I hate you?"
That's when Logan breaks.
"Fuck it all," he suddenly growls, making my breath hiccup and my gaze snap up to him. My stomach flips sharply when I see him storming up to me so suddenly that I can't even back up.
"Logan, what-"
"Shut up." He orders, and he reaches me in seconds.
The moment he does, one of his hands cups my face and the other snakes around my waist, tugging me so close to him that I can feel every ridge and curve of his muscles. I barely have time to breathe when he tilts my head up with his hand and crashes his lips to mine.
Instantly I'm on fire.
I can't stop the small moan that leaves my lips, swallowed by his as he kisses me so desperately and passionately that my knees would buckle if it weren't for his iron grip on my waist. He bites my bottom lip softly and uses the gasp I let out to deepen the kiss. Every fiber of me is trembling and my body is on fire. Everywhere he touches me is pure desire and lightning and passion and I can barely catch my breath. He must feel the same because he reluctantly pulls away, leaving us both panting in the silence.
My lips are swollen and my body shaking, leaving me holding on to Logan desperately to ground myself to this instant, to convince myself that was real. The charge is too strong, and like opposite ends of a magnet our lips end up together again. This time, he pulls back just enough so our lips are still touching.
"I'm so sorry," He breathes against my lips, sealing the apology with a quick kiss, "I'm so sorry."
I pull away, capturing his face in my hands and staring at him with furrowed, confused brows. My unspoken desire for an explanation is clearly picked up, and he shakes his head, moving both of his hands to my waist. Where his hands hold me burns in the best way, in a way that makes me never want to pull away.
"Everyone I have ever cared for, everyone I have ever let myself love, has been taken from me," Logan whispers brokenly, and I stop breathing. I don't dare to believe what his words spell out so clearly, but instead let him keep talking as if to prove me wrong.
He doesn't.
"That's why I kept shoving you away, that's why we could never be friends. Because if we were, I could never live with just being friends with you"
"Logan, what are you saying?" I whisper, my eyes wide and my heart racing so fast that I actually fear it might give out on me. His nose nudges mine before he pulls back, letting his eyes burn into mine so I can see the truth in them, the meaning and the sincerity.
"Y/N, I have been in love with you since the moment I met you."
This time, my knees do buckle briefly. Thankfully, his arms around my waist hold me until I manage to hold my own weight again.
"You-you love me?"
A sweet smile that I want to take a picture of and hold close forever spreads onto his lips.
"Always."
I pull him down so our lips meet again, and for the first time in months my soul is at peace. What's been devouring me slowly finally stops as everything makes perfect sense. When I pull away, I lean my forehead against his.
"You're not gonna lose me." I vow, then pull back to raise an eyebrow at him, "But if you ever shove me away out of fear of losing me again, I will turn you into a cat and keep you as the kids' class pet."
A genuine, heart-healing laugh erupts from him, lighting up Logan's face in a way that makes me fall in love all over again. We just stay like that for a moment, his arms around my waist and mine back around his neck, our bodies molded together and our breath mingling.
"You think they're watching a live feed of this right now?" I ask, not pulling away an inch.
The radio crackles back to life and Storm's voice fills the jet, "That would be an affirmative, love birds. Mission Wedding Bells is a success."
We both chuckle, and Logan turns his head towards the direction of the cockpit, where the camera probably is. With all the gentlemanliness he can muster, he unsheathes only his middle claw, flipping the entire team out. I laugh dropping my head onto his chest.
He cups my face and turns it up to face him, cocking an eyebrow at me, "What?"
It only makes me laugh harder and his body rumbles with laughter against mine, "Come here, sweetheart."
He slings an arm across my shoulders and walks me back to the cockpit. As we do, I think of that first moment we met. An amused smile tugs at my lips and I shake my head slightly.
"What are you smiling about?" Logan asks. I look up at him, amusement dancing among my features.
"When you saw me turn that creep paparazzi in the front lawn into a pigeon, that's when you fell in love with me?"
He chuckles, kissing my cheek and making me wonder if this is what bliss is.
"I took one look at you scolding him and then tending to the kids like a mother and knew I was in trouble."
I laugh, leaning into his side, "You realize we have to let the Professor tell us 'I told you so', right?"
"Over my dead body," Logan stiffens, his words final. I snort.
"Good thing you can't die."
And for the first time since I met Logan, my traitorous, knowing heart was settled.
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make-me-imagine · 2 years
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If You'll Have Me
Prompt: “What is it about me that isn’t good enough?” Requested By: @spuffyfan394 (Mystery prompt Brown 10)
Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN!Reader
Plot: Y/n can no longer handle hiding their feelings around Logan, convinced that he still has feelings for Jean. So, they decide it might be best if they leave for a while. Logan, who overhears this, tries to convince Y/n to stay, not understanding that he is the reason they want to leave.
Warnings: Self-doubt and lack of confidence from reader.
Words: 1.8k
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You tried to stop yourself from looking, but your curiosity and anxiety kept forcing your eyes back to them. The tightness in your chest was almost unbearable as you saw Jean giggle at Logan's comment. Logan had a familiar fond smile on his face as he looked at her.
No matter how many times the others tried to convince you that Logan was over Jean, and that Jean held no feelings for him, you couldn't help but doubt it.
Jean was everything you weren't, and you doubted that Logan ever saw anything as appealing in you, as he did in Jean. You never saw him look at you the way he looked at her.
Tearing your eyes away from them, you forced yourself to walk away, to go somewhere else. You needed to get him out of your mind. You were tired of the pain you were causing yourself every time you thought of him. You hated that you allowed your fondness for Logan to evolve from feelings of friendship, to a desire for more.
He made you laugh, and smile more than any other. He made you feel safe, and brought out your strengths when you doubted yourself. He was a great and loyal friend, but you wanted more. You wanted what you could not have, and it hurt more every day.
You were unaware of Ororo's eyes on you as you made your way up to your room. She frowned as she saw how clearly upset you were about something.
As you got to your room, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. Letting out a long breath you sat on the edge of your bed and looked out the window. You wouldn't cry. You refused. This was your own fault, and you would hold it, let it teach you a lesson.
Hearing a light knock on your door, you felt uneasy. With your luck that wold be Logan or Jean. Neither of which you wanted to see right now. You stayed quiet, and still.
"Y/n? It's Ororo."
You let out a breath of relief as you heard her voice. Standing, you walked to the door, and slowly pulled it open, meeting her concerned gaze.
She smiled softly at you. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty upset."
Letting her enter the room, you closed the door behind her, wondering if you should tell her. Looking over at her, you saw her watching you patiently.
Shaking your head, you walked back towards the window. "It's stupid."
"If it made you upset, it's not stupid. Come on Y/n, I'm your friend, talk to me."
Sighing you sat back on your bed, waiting for her to sit beside you. You spoke cautiously, with a hint of shame. "I just saw Logan and Jean together, talking and laughing and I just...let it get to me. And I know that your just gonna say there is nothing between them, and that they are just friends. But the fact is, that there was something between them. At least from Logan's side. And I don't think that Logan could ever feel that way for me. Not like he did for her. And I hate that I have these feelings, and I can't make them go away."
Reaching over, she set her hands over yours. "There is nothing wrong with feeling Y/n. Even if it hurts. I wish I could tell you that you're wrong, but I can't. I don't know if Logan see's you like you want. I know that he adores you, that he appreciates your friendship and that he would never purposefully hurt you, but I also know that might not be enough."
You nodded your head softly. "Sometimes I wish he didn't think about me at all. That I was nothing to him. That would make it easier to accept. But he treats me so kindly, and I know he cares for me, but it's hard knowing I feel more than he does." Looking down at your feet, you let out a long breath.
----
Logan walked towards your room, hoping he would find you there. He had expected you to be in the library or sitting room, but found you in neither. And no one seemed to know where you were. He had begun feeling an odd sense of restlessness the longer he went without seeing you.
He slowed in step as he heard your voice from inside. Were you with someone? In your room, door closed? He felt jealousy clench at his chest, as he listened closer. He probably shouldn't, he was invading your privacy, but he couldn't help himself.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ororo asked.
Logan felt relief wash over him, it was just Storm. Deciding he should leave, he began to turn away when your voice met his ears and he stopped.
"Is there any chance you can send me somewhere else?"
Logan felt his heart palpitate, as anxiety filled his chest. You wanted to leave the school? Why? What was happening?
"You think leaving would help?"
He heard you sigh. "I don't know, maybe? I mean, I wish I could get out of my own head about it. But I just can't stop doubting myself. These stupid thoughts plague me every day, every time I see him. I can't stop thinking, what is it about me that isn’t good enough?"
Logan felt his chest tighten. Who were you talking about? Had you been with someone and he didn't know it? Did you break up with them? No, it sounded more like they hurt you. Why hadn't you told him? He felt a mix of anger and jealously wash over him.
"If that's what you really want, I can talk to the Professor. Maybe he can send you somewhere for a while."
"Thanks Ororo."
Logan turned to leave, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't just let you leave. Why couldn't the bastard that hurt you leave? Who was it? He knew most of the teachers, but never really recalled seeing you with one more often than the others.
He'd have to talk to you. Convince you to stay. He couldn't imagine this place without you, he would hate it. You made it so much better. You were the heart of this place to him, you made it feel more like home for him. He couldn't let you leave.
-------------
Staring out at the school grounds as the light of the full moon cascaded over the trees, you wondered if you really should leave. This place as your home, you loved it. But you hated that most of your days were spent with an ache in your heart.
Hearing a soft knock behind you, you turned to see Logan leaning in the doorway, watching you. You felt your chest tighten.
"Hey." He said softly.
"Hi." You responded with a soft smile before you looked back out at the campus grounds.
Logan walked over to you, and leaned on the balcony beside you. "I've been looking for you."
Your heart palpitated 'Why?' You glanced over at him "Oh yeah?"
"I wanted to see if you were alright."
You felt a pang in your chest. Finally looking over at him, you feigned confusion. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"
Logan smiled softly at you, "I was looking for you earlier today too, and I went to your room to see if you were there. And...I overheard your conversation with Storm."
You felt anxiety cascade through your chest as you tried to keep your face from showing your shock. Before you could speak, Logan continued.
"Look, I don't know what jack-ass hurt you, but there is no reason you should let him chase you away. This is your home and you can't leave. Not because of anyone."
A sense of realization washed over you as you figured out he had only heard the end of your conversation with Ororo. He had no idea the guy you had been talking about was him.
"Logan-"
"I know you are going to try and make excuses, but listen to me." He faced you "You are the best part of this place, if anyone should leave it's him."
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you let out a laugh as you ran your hands over your face. "Logan-" you shook your head "I was talking about you."
You saw a mixture of confusion and realization cross his face. You knew you couldn't stop now, so you started to explain to him what you had been holding back.
You took in a deep breath before you started. "My feelings for you changed months ago Logan. But I can't keep ignoring them, and pushing them aside. Especially when I have to see you and Jean every day. Living with the uncertainty of how you feel about her. And knowing that you can never feel the same way about me. Knowing that I can never be what you want. "
Logan felt an almost overwhelming mix of guilt, confusion and excitement as he listening to you speak. He never thought that you felt anything for him, not like he felt for you.
"This is my home, but I can't keep feeling like this. So maybe it's best if I leave for a while, just so I can get over this-"
You were cut off as Logan suddenly stepped forward and grabbed you, pulling you against his chest as he kissed you. Your mind went blank as you felt shock wash over you. By the time you fully grasped what happened, Logan pulled away, staring down at you.
"I'm sorry." He said softly. "All this time I had no idea that you felt anything for me, or that you thought I still had feelings for Jean. But I don't, I promise I don't. All feelings I've had recently have been for you, and no one else."
You opened your mouth to speak, but struggling to find words. "I- for me?"
He nodded softly as he gently caressed your face. "I wanted to tell you, to show you. But I didn't know if I should. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. But if I had known I was causing you pain, I would have told you, I'm sorry that I hurt you so much you thought you had to leave."
You shook your head. "It's not your fault Logan, I know you never would have hurt me on purpose." You paused, before speaking softly with a hint of uncertainty. "So, you don't have feelings for Jean?"
He shook his head softly. "I haven't since I got to know you. Me and Jean are just friends, nothing more. I don't want anyone but you. If you'll have me that is."
A smile spread slowly across your face and you nodded lightly, "I'll have you."
He grinned down at you as he brought his hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him. As your chest pressed against him, his lips met yours. You felt a great sense of excitement and relief flow through you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
xx End xx
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 month
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thinking about grumpy!logan and sunshine!reader. he would have such a soft spot for readerrr.
You’re the happiest person Logan knows in the world. He isn’t sure how you maintain it. Especially when it comes to what your job is.
You’re all technically teachers, but you’re a mutant, a very powerful mutant who’s been hunted for the majority of your life.
Yet, you’re always wearing a smile Logan thinks is too bright to be real.
Over the years, you and Logan developed a sort of relationship- if you can call it that. He’s a grump and you’re literal sunshine but he’s the only one allowed to be mean around you.
He’s grilling some of the younger kids about them not using their powers correctly in the training drill when you come in, hands holding two trays of juice for the kids.
“You’re too hard on them, Logan. They’re fifteen.” You whisper it because you’re not about to undermine him loudly.
“That doesn’t stop anyone. They need to be better.” You roll your eyes.
“You want them to be unfeeling, that’s not fair.” You say just as gently and he grumbles, taking the last bottle off the tray and cracking it open and then handing it to you.
“Not unfeeling, pragmatic wouldn’t hurt though.”
The kids start hand to hand combat while you speak to Logan and they look better after his corrections but some of them can’t move as quickly as he likes.
“Watch your feet. You’re leaning too far forward, you’ll be easy to off balance.” You correct gently and the kids look past you to Logan who they suspect is about to grill them.
“She’s right. Ground yourself better, tighten your core and block your face.” He’s significantly less aggressive and you smile as you hold the empty trays to your chest.
“See you later, Logan. We have lunch plans don’t be late.” Practically skipping out of the training room with a big grin.
Logan smiles despite himself, a little thing. Barely an uptick in his lips. “Get outta here, Sunshine.” The kids whisper among themselves as you leave and how much softer Logan corrects them even after you’re gone for weeks.
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Sunshine and Flowers
Logan Howlett x plus size reader
Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.
Warnings: grumpy and sunshine, jealousy, Logan is a dick but we been knew, reader is kind of oblivious and touch starved, age-gap (reader is mid 20s and Logan is old as shit), Logan POV, bit of a slow burn, reader and Logan are Keely and Roy coded
WC: 3.8k
Minors DNI
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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“Yo Logan!” The seemingly ever present pounding in the older mutant’s temples suddenly got worse, the band around his forehead tightening as the young woman cheerfully skipped up to him without a care in the world. Her arm looped through his own, tucking herself into his side, like she always did. 
“What d’ya want?” He grumbled. It was easier to just ask her outright than stay silent and her chatter away at him for an hour before she finally got to her point. Y/N beamed up at him, her e/c eyes sparkling. “Wellllll… I was wondering if you wanted to come with me on a little field trip with the kids! I was thinking of bringing them to the MET, you know because art.” She waved her right hand around as if to emphasise her point. 
“No.” Logan said firmly. 
“Aw please! Please Logan! Please! Please! Please!” He could practically feel his blood pressure rising as Y/N pleaded with him, pulling on his arm, acting like a complete child. Dear god, what had he done to deserve this?
With the huge throngs of students constantly being enrolled in the school, Charles had come up with the bright idea to introduce an art program to the children as a way of “expressing their creativity”. But what that actually meant was hiring a new teacher specifically for this class since no adult in the school had even an ounce of artistic talent.
And so six months ago, Y/N Y/L/N, a recent college graduate, strolled into the mansion and never left. Her gift to generate small stars gave her the remarkable ability to light her classroom in any way she wished, allowing her students the perfect lighting to create absolute masterpieces. And like her gift, she herself was a big ball of endless energy that constantly bounced around, latching onto whoever she came across, and more often than not, that person was Logan.
For some inexplicable reason, she gravitated to him, always seeking his approval, trying to get him to engage in activities with their students, among many many other things that made the older man truly resent when the final bell of the school day rang and she would float into his classroom, ranting about something or another. The only way he could get her to stop was by distracting her, usually by shoving her in the general direction of her best friend, Alex Summers.
But Havok was on a road trip with Sean and Peter for the next month, so he had been abandoned. Logan sighed as her grating voice made his sensitive ears ring, and the overpowering smell of her flowery perfume was a downright assault on his senses. “Logan, come on! It’ll be soooooo much fun! I’ll even buy you lunch after!” 
While the temptation of free food was great, Logan knew it wouldn’t be worth spending the entire day with Y/N glued to his side, forcing him to do whatever she wanted. Taking a deep breath, prepared to let her down as gently as he could, given that his patience was hanging on by a thread, he would probably be more rude than he wanted to be, when he paused, really taking in the young woman.
“Is that my shirt?” He drawled, his dark eyes flicking over her plump body. She was wearing one of her typical outfits, white converse splashed with paint, shorts that very well could be called Daisy dukes, they were that short, with little flowers embroidered on them. Her chubby thighs almost entirely on view with one of his favourite red plaids on top of a black tank top instead of her usual blouse, making her sizeable cleavage pop. Y/N looked away bashfully. 
“Yeah, I um found it in the movie room and it looked so warm so I took it and it’s super comfy like seriously how do you get your shirts so soft it’s really weird but they always smell like cigars so I guess that’s the downside. That’s not to say you smell bad! I’m just saying that it’s like your trademark-“
There she went again. “It’s fine kid, just wash it before you give it back.” 
“What about the MET!” She called after him.
“Maybe.” He grumbled and with that he walked away, be-lining for the kitchen where he stashed his Vodka, losing her in the sea of students just getting out of class.
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“Now, for today’s class, we’re going to go over some art history!” A collective groan resonated through the room but Y/N’s bright smile never faltered, it actually got bigger as she looked over her small group of students sitting around the art-filled room. “I know, I know but this stuff is important! Art plays such a big role in human evolution. Actually, the argument can be made that our ability to create art is what truly sets us apart from other animal species-“
There was no denying that Miss Y/L/N’s class was a favourite among the young mutants. Her rants not only served to brighten up their day but they also prevented her from giving out any actual work. It especially helped when most of them came from Logan’s class the period before. He was quite well known to be, well there’s no delicate way to put this, a hard ass. 
So when, during this spring afternoon, with just a month left before summer break, Logan strode into the art class, his heavy boots thundering loudly against the hardwood floors, everyone was shocked. Y/N was pacing the room now, well and truly absorbed in her own thoughts, which became an impassioned speech as soon as the words formed in her mind. Logan cleared his throat as he leaned against the door jam, his jaw cleaned tightly when she didn’t answer or look at him.
The collection of children were now starting to get nervous as the seconds ticked by, Logan’s eyes getting steadily darker with anger, the muscle in his lower jaw working over under his mutton chops. They could all see his famous tempter growing and none of them wanted to be on the receiving end. “Um Miss?” A young girl spoke up, trying to break her train of thought. But nope, that couldn’t stop her.
Logan was getting fed up now. How in the hell did these kids even learn anything with the way she was carrying on? “Kid.” He growled, immediately making the entire class freeze, including the young teacher. 
“Oh Logan! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” She laughed nervously, pulling on the edge of her sheer pink sleeve. He noted she was wearing a dress today, it was frilly and absolutely drowning in flower print, with translucent sleeves that went all the way down to her wrists.
“Right, Wheels needs us in his office. Now.” He pressed as she opened her mouth to point out she was in the middle of a lecture. Y/N nodded then addressed the class. “All right, students. I guess you’re getting out early today. No homework!” She was quick to jog out of the room before the kids were able to leave their seats, effectively avoiding the clambering mass of them trying to practically sprint out. 
Her smaller hand easily slipped into Logan’s bigger one, intertwining their fingers as her left hand came up to rest on his exposed forearm. He felt the cool of her metal rings against his skin. Unconsciously, he noted that he had never seen her wear any kind of jewellery before. “Did Charles say what he wanted?” Her eyes caught his brown ones, falling into step with the older mutant through the quiet halls. Logan just shrugged, fishing a half used cigar from his breast pocket and sticking the thoroughly chewed end in his mouth, a sharp canine slicing into it.
“Hmm.” She hummed, her gaze shifting down to her feet, trusting Logan to guide them to the headmaster’s office. “Do you think it’s a mission?” 
“He doesn’t send you on missions.” Logan said firmly. 
“Yeah I know but it could be! Stranger things have happened.” 
“Like what?” He humoured her.  
“How about Peter actually scoring a date~” She teased, making the Wolverine’s lip turn up briefly in a smile then dropped again into a frown before she could see. 
“You do have a point.” He conceded. They rounded the last corner and came to a stop outside the solid door of Charles’ office. Logan went to knock, a muffled ‘please come in’ sounded before his permanently bruised knuckles could meet the stained wood.
Charles sat behind his grand desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he looked over a mountain of paperwork that gave Y/N a headache just from looking at it. She pulled her hand from Logan’s and bounced over to one of the two chairs in front of the headmaster, immediately making herself comfortable. 
Clasping her hands on her lap with her back up straight, Y/N focused on the older mutant as he took off his reading glasses and laid them on what looked to be his grade book. Logan himself leaned against the doorjamb, much like he did in the young woman’s classroom, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. 
Charles sighed deeply as he looked at his teachers. “There really is no way to say this delicately so I suppose I’ll just say it: Erik’s come home.” Logan’s entire body seized with an emotion akin to fear.
“Fuck.” He snarled. But Y/N had an entirely different reaction. Her face visibly lit up but not with excitement but instead with the joy of someone who didn’t have to lie anymore. Charles raised an eyebrow at the young woman, prompting her to explain herself.
“He slept in my room last night, there was no other free space.” She said casually as if she hadn’t just dropped the bomb that she spent the night with a dangerous mutant who hadn’t hesitated to kill before. “Don’t worry! I was being safe. He slept on my couch.”
“Like that makes this whole thing any better.” Logan muttered under his breath but only Charles heard him. The telepath gave him a strange but knowing look before turning back to the young art teacher.
Her smile wavered only for a moment before returning with full force. “He was super nice to me! He even picked out my jewellery today.” She flashed her hands towards the headmaster, showing off the various silver rings that adorned her fingers. Logan huffed at her naivety but Charles had an entirely different reaction. He took her hands into his own, delicately tracing the metal with a soft touch.
“Erik did a good job, they look wonderful. But Y/N, I still want you to be wary. Erik can be very volatile and unpredictable and his abilities far outmatch your own. Just be careful.” She gave a firm nod. “Although, I believe you could do him some kind of good to be around someone who finds him tolerable.” Charles gave a not so subtle glance toward the Wolverine who scoffed and rolled his eyes.
An awkward and tense silence fell over the trio. Y/N cleared her throat, tugging on the hem of her dress which lay only an inch above her knees. “Is that all you wanted to tell us?”
“Well, I do need to speak to you about this art trip you have planned. Logan, you’re welcome to stay, you might find this information useful.” 
“Fuck no, I have better things to do with my time.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. She visibly flinched at his words and her smile became so fake it made him ache. Charles’s own expression fell as he sat back in his high-back chair.
“Then if you’ll please excuse us, we have some things to discuss.” He said sternly, quite obviously not pleased with Logan’s rudeness. “Close the door on your way out.” 
As the door swung shut behind him, Logan caught the smallest whimper escaping her lips and the muffled words of his old friend consoling her.
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The manor was almost dead silent as Logan emerged from the cave that was his room. There were no sounds of footsteps (save for his own), or screaming or chatter, there wasn’t even the ever present clatter of utensils from the kitchen. 
Curiously, he wandered through the empty halls, occasionally glancing into the empty rooms he passed. Just as his dark brows began to furrow with concern, Ororo turned the corner, nose buried in a book. “Hey Storm.” Her dark eyes met his own.
“Logan?” She replied with a curious head tilt before returning to her book. Logan huffed through his nose.
“Where is everyone?” She gave him a strange look and glanced over her shoulder as if the answer to his question was just behind her. The young mutant snapped her book shut.
“At the MET? You know the big field trip that Y/N organised. I thought you were going with them. She has been talking about it for weeks.”  Logan’s frown deepened. That was today? Storm seemed to pause as she took in his stormy expression. “Oh, I guess you forgot. No wonder she was so upset when they left. I guess it’s a good thing Erik went with her then.”
Just then, noise exploded through the halls once more as dozens of feet stomped on the expensive hardwood. Ororo sighed heavily through her nose, upset at not being able to have a little more quiet to finish off her chapter. But Logan remained frozen in place, his veins filled with icy terror. “Repeat that last part?”
She glanced at him with a devastating side eye. “Evidently, Erik saw how upset she was this morning when you didn’t get on the bus so he decided to go with her to take care of the kids.”  She shrugged and tucked the leather-bound volume under her arm. “She looked like she was going to cry before he stepped up.”
Poison curled in his gut but he quickly stamped it down. Just then, kids and teens stampeded around the corner, hyped up on what Logan guessed to be sugar and excitement. And right smack dab in the middle was Magneto, his head thrown back in laughter, the corded muscles in his neck and shoulders rippling with the movement. His right arm was bent allowing for the soft hand of the younger woman to rest on his forearm. Y/N was smiling shyly at him, not used to the undivided attention he was giving her.
As they passed him, Logan caught her eye. She barely even gave him a glance but he saw the sadness deep within those e/cs and he knew it was because of him. She quickly looked away, drawing her gaze back to the dangerous mutant who was speaking once more, his laughter fading. But Logan couldn’t hear what he was saying over the roaring in his ears. 
He watched them until they disappeared into one of the many living rooms of the manor. “At least he got her smiling again.” He barely registered Ororo’s words before she too left him.
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This went on for weeks. It seemed that everywhere he turned, Logan would see the unlikely pair together. Whether that be baking in the middle of the night, reading quietly in the library, working on lesson plans, he even saw them training together! 
He watched them from afar as they grew closer and her pull away from himself until one day he was walking out of his classroom after a long day. “Wait up!” Unconsciously, Logan slowed his pace , a smile crawling upon his face. He expected the familiar weight of her touch against his arm, the smell of her floral perfume and the bright sound of her laughter but when a blur raced by him, his heart dropped.
Y/N flung herself at Erik who was just a few paces in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug too tight to be just friendly. He caught her easily, his arms winding around her thick waist and tugged her closer. 
Logan forced himself to turn away, missing the sad look she cast him, heartbreak clear in her eyes.
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The end-of-school party was alive with laughter and music. Lights floated over the small dance floor that had been assembled in the gardens. Professors mingled on the wooden stage, swaying to the smooth acoustic guitar Kurt was strumming. But Logan’s attention was trapped on the centre of the crowd where a small circle of space had been formed and trying as hard as he might, he couldn’t look away. 
Y/N twirled in time with the music, her eyes shut as she let it wash over her. Her skin glowed in the golden sunset, the sweat along her brow sparkled like glitter as she moved. Pale green tulle embroidered with dozens of sunflowers floated around her, her dress fluttering in the light breeze. She was absolutely breath-taking. No weight rested on her shoulders nor anxiety in her face. She was serene, she was like a goddess in human form, dancing and delighting with mere mortals. 
How badly he wanted to stride across the gardens and take her into his arms, to feel her curves beneath his palms as they moved together. Logan shook himself from those thoughts and took another sip of whiskey. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat but that was nothing compared to the burning rage in his stomach as another man approached her.
Erik, dressed in a matching dark green suit, caught her mid-twirl, his left hand holding her hips in place as he captured her left hand in his right. She fell easily into step with him, her once fluid movements becoming a slow waltz. 
Logan was so consumed in his anger that he hadn’t noticed another person walking to his side until they were right next to him.
“Why are you so worked up about this? You’ve made it very clear that you can barely even tolerate her.” Logan’s scowl deepened, his eyes growing even darker with rage as Hank spoke to him. “I mean even I’ve heard about the things you’ve said to her and I barely leave the lab.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Beast.” He didn’t bother to hide the way he was glaring at the pair. Almost as if in slow motion, Erik pressed his lips to her ear, speaking in a whisper so quiet, even Logan’s powerful hearing couldn’t pick it up. She pulled away from him for just a moment and hope bloomed in his chest. But it quickly died as she nodded in response.
Erik took her hand, their fingers intertwining as he led her away. Logan slammed his now empty glass down on the temporary bar behind him and stormed off towards the couple. The music faded away as he ran. 
Her laugh carried on the breeze, the skirt of her dress fluttering behind her. Logan ran faster, now regretting the tight suit pants and button-up he donned for the evening as they got steadily further and further away.
Without thinking, he made a sharp left, launching himself over the perfectly pruned flower beds Charles loved so much and tore through the gardens. Then suddenly, she was within sight. One heeled foot was over the threshold but he still had a chance.
With a final burst of speed he grabbed Y/N’s wrist before she could enter the manor, forcing her to let go of the other man. “Don’t go with him. Please.” 
“Logan, what are you doing?”
“I can’t let you go with him. Y/N, I-“ He swallowed harshly, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly. Y/N looked over her shoulder to the other mutant only to find him gone. “Fuck why can’t I just say it.”
Her body was fully turned to him now. “Say what?”
Taking in a deep breath, he looked into her eyes. “I love you.” The slap came out of nowhere, knocking the breath from his lungs. Y/N’s jaw was dropped in shock as if she didn’t see it coming either even though it was her hand that now burned with the sting of meeting his unshaven cheek.
“Let me go, who-who put you up to this?” She attempted to pull away from his hold but he wouldn’t let her go. 
“Y/N-“ He started but was quickly interrupted when she spoke again, tears spilling down her full cheeks and voice wavering.
“No. You can’t feel that towards me, you barely even like me. You’ve made that very clear over the past couple weeks, no the past year! You brush me off! You make me feel like an idiot! You ignored my blatantly obvious feelings for months and now you say something?!” 
“You feel the same?” He asked in disbelief. 
“Of course I do! That’s why I asked you to go to the MET with me. I was gonna bring you to the American wing where all the native art was because I know you love it so much and then I was going to tell you. But then you were just so awful to me when Erik got here and you forgot about the trip!” Once again, she tried to break his grip but Logan instead tugged her back and right into his broad chest.
With a massive paw, he cupped her soft jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Can you just let me explain?” Her bottom lip popped out in a pout but she didn’t object. “I have lost so much, too much. Every woman I have ever loved has died because I loved them. And you, you are so young and so beautiful and way too kind for your own good. I love you more than anyone else and I guess that scared me. I pushed you away. But I can’t do it anymore, I can’t watch you fall for someone else.” 
“Goddamnit.” She growled before her arms shot out and wrapped around the back of his neck so she could yank his face down to her level, and then she kissed him.
Stars burst around them like little fireworks as he pulled her closer by the small of her back. Her hands travelled from his neck downwards so her fingers could curl into his shirt like she was terrified that this was all just some dream. 
“You do anything even remotely close to that whole fiasco again and I will let Erik do whatever he wants to you.” She murmured against his lips.
“Just kiss me again, sunshine.” And she did.
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justsomerandomfanfic · 3 months
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What Am I Going To Do With You? - Logan Howlett X GN Reader
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Title: What Am I Going To Do With You?
Logan Howlett X GN Reader
Additional Characters: N/A
Requested by Anon!
WC: 4,438
Warnings: Death mentioned briefly, X-Men canon violence briefly mentioned, italics, cursing, unconsciousness?, alcohol (beer), very brief mentions of poisoning, yelling mentioned, nightmares mentioned, confessions, strangers to friends to lovers, nicknames, banter, teasing, flirting, slight suggestiveness, slight angst, and fluff
The snow was falling softly outside, and a few puffy flakes were already starting their journey into the ground of the forested land that surrounded your small cabin in Hunter, New York. The air was cold and biting with each puff of wind that blew across the open landscape. It was early in the morning, on a Friday, when you would usually go out and cut up some new firewood for the upcoming days. It was hard work, especially in such cold weather, but it ultimately kept you warm for a week or two before you'd have to chop up some more.
In your oversized, white coat, you gathered as much wood as you possibly could fit into your arms before setting off through the thick snow, back to your back door. Kicking and knocking your snow boats against the slightly raised threshold, you shook your hair out as you nudged the door closed with your hip. The snow that had landed softly in your hair began to instantly melt into its liquid form once the warm and comforting heat of your house hit you. Setting down the wood logs on the small wooden table by your wood-burning furnace; you stood up straight, back slightly aching as you did so. 
Upon looking at your wood pile, you worried on your bottom lip before deciding to go out for a couple more from the large stack you had up against the side of your cabin. You weren't entirely sure that you'd have enough, so it was best to grab more wood than you'd need. You didn't want to freeze to death during the rest of your winter, and you didn't want to go out into the freezing cold more than you'd have to. 
With a short glance at your still-steaming coffee on your dining room table, you let out a sigh before stepping back out into the cold. Stuffing your mittens together to keep them tight on your hands, you rubbed at your chill-to-the-bone nose before heading back around to the side of your cabin. But right as you turned the corner, you froze, not literally. There, lying slumped in the thick and deep snow was a man. He definitely wasn’t there when you went out to get the first load of logs. He didn't move, possibly unconscious... Or worse... Dead. You couldn't have a dead man on your property... It would only bring trouble. 
Hoping, praying that his man was still alive, you dragged your feet through the seven-inch snow, standing within inches from him, you dropped to your knees. Eyes wandering his large figure, you bit your lip; he was breathing, his back rising and falling slowly. This man wouldn't survive long, him facing down like that. Tearing off your gloves, you quickly pushed him over, groaning slightly from how heavy the man was. What did he eat? Rocks?
Once upon his back, you let out a short breath, a small foggy plume escaping your lips as you looked over him. You couldn't help but stare, completely entranced by the man's striking features. His face, although covered in bits of stubborn snow, was a rosy pink, with a dark beard, and brown-curly hair. And though he was unconscious, he looked at peace, even though he lay in the middle of the cold snow. He reminded you of someone, but you didn't know who... Your mind began racing as you racked your brain to figure out where he might have been coming from, why he was unconscious, and why he would be out and about in just jeans and a flannel button-up?
Feeling the biting tingling on your hands from the cold you blinked out of your thoughts. And as if on instinct, you stood back up, your knees aching in the process as you moved around to his head. Taking hold of his arms, you grunted lightly as you pushed him forward, in a sitting position. Once you were satisfied that you had him positioned as he needed to be, you began to drag him to your back door.
It took you a long time, but by the time you had gotten the unconscious - handsome - stranger inside, you were well out of breath. You had to take a moment, taking a moment to catch your breath and calm your heart rate as you stared down at the man lying on your wooden floor. Tossing your gloves onto one of your couches, you quickly tore off your winter coat, hanging it sharply on the hook near your front door. Turning back to the man, you placed both your hands on your hips, huffing lightly. 
"What am I going to do with you?" You asked, mostly to yourself as you ran your hands through your hair. “I can’t call the police… They’ll only bring trouble…”
Thinking that now would be the best time to lay him down somewhere more comfortable before he woke, you grabbed the man again and pulled him over to your other couch, closest to the fire that was burning. You thought it would be easier to lay on your other couch than your bed; lifting the man was already hard enough - him feeling like he weighed a million pounds - but lifting him as you have up the stairs... No way. 
Staring down at the man, you worried whether or not you should get him a change of clothes, but that would be impossible. You live a good couple of miles from the closest shops and you didn't have any clothes that would fit the man; who you guessed was around six-foot-something. But you didn't want him to catch his death, so a good couple of blankets would hopefully suffice. You didn't really know… You had hoped so. Grabbing the throw on the back of the other couch, you carefully tossed it over the man before grabbing the rest of the blankets you had around the cabin. 
Upon placing the last blanket down on him, you stopped. Finally, away from the cold air and snow, you began to see the redness in his cheeks fade away slightly, and only then did you have the chance to take a better look at his face. Now that there wasn't any snow in his hair, you let your eyes run over his handsome features, noticing all the little details. From the way his eyelashes curled delicately, his short, dark brown curls became more pronounced as his hair dried, and the way his tanned skin seemed to glow under the artificial light of your lamps and the fireplace; he even had barely-there freckles upon the apples of his cheeks. Your hand twitched with the urge to stroke his cheek,.. Nope. Bad idea, bad idea... Maybe... You paused to think. Yeah, to check if he had a fever, you could do that. 
Reaching out, you softly brushed some of the stray hairs from his forehead - in awe from how soft they were from just the brief brush - your mind searing into you that having this unknown man in your home was dangerous. He could be dangerous. He was tall, obviously strong; he could easily break you in two with those large hands of his, but you ignored it. Finally, you pressed the back of your hand on his forehead, only to sigh in relief. No fever. Quickly, you pulled your hand away, making sure that he was breathing once more before you headed to the kitchen, grabbing your coffee from the dining room table as you did so. Maybe you could make some soup, for you, and possibly for the man that was in your living room. 
~~~
It had been a couple of days since the mysterious man had come into your life. And for the past couple of days, that mysterious man was still unconscious. You had been doing your best to take care of him, not really knowing what to do; though you read up on the few First Aid and Nursing textbooks you had found three years ago at a thrift store, but never got around to reading. Sitting next to the fire, in your old rocking chair that you got for the amazing price of seven dollars, a book in your hand, you decided to catch up on some reading. As you rocked, turning page after page, you occasionally looked up to make sure that he was still breathing, in turn, not fully paying attention to the words on the page. Looking over to the clock on the wall, you let out a sigh before standing and setting down your book on the rocking chair seat; the book was a bit boring anyway. 
Walking over, you sat on the ground beside the couch. Resting on your knees, you stared at the man, your mind wandering. Who was he? He looked so familiar. Like you had known him or had seen him before. But you hadn’t been out and about in - quote on quote - ‘the real world’ for years. You had been sort of living off the grid for the past couple of years. 
Reaching out, you went to feel his forehead for a fever again when his hand suddenly reached up, gripping your wrist. You gasped, eyes widening as you watched the man's eyes open, a small but gruff groan reverberating from his well-built chest. Slowly, he sat up, bringing your wrist with him, tightening his grasp slightly as he stared down at you with hard, dark brown eyes. You couldn't look away, both scared and lost in those eyes that were locked onto yours.
"Wha' happened?" He rasped, his voice rough and hoarse, "Who are you?"
You swallowed down your spit, trying not to let the nervous feeling overwhelm you. "Uh, I'm Y/N... Uh, I found you outside my cabin, unconscious." You spoke in a hushed tone, your voice quiet as you stared up at the man with wide eyes.
The man stared at you, his brows furrowing as he tilted his head slightly, clearly confused though he never dropped his slightly threatening demeanor. "Where am I?"
"You're- You're in my cabin... In, uh, Hunter, New York." You answered as you glanced from his dark eyes to his hand on your wrist, "Uh, could you please let go of me?"
His own eyes snapped to his hand, tightly wrapped around your wrist before quickly dropping your hand. Without another word, he stood, the pile of blankets falling to the side as he made his way quickly to the closet door. Staggering to your feet, you made your way to him, grabbing his flannel sleeve without really thinking. 
"Wait! You can't go back out there! It's freezing!" You exclaimed, his eyes staring down at your hand sharply before meeting your worried gaze once more.
"It don't bother me." He spoke, voice deep, sounding irritated, "I don't care 'bout no damn weather." 
"But you have no jacket, gloves, or hat... Or- Or anything! You'll catch your death out there!" At that, the man clicked his tongue, pulling his arm from your grasp, "Besides, the nearest town is miles away. Fifteen to be exact. You won't be able to make it. Especially after being unconscious for five days!" The man said nothing, walking the rest of his way to the front door, his large hand grabbing the door handle. Becoming slightly irritated, you grabbed his arm again, using enough strength to turn him towards you a little. "Listen here. It's freezing out, you just woke from some sort of small coma-like sleep thing, haven't drunk or eaten anything, and you expect me to just let you leave?" You growled, tightening your grip slightly, "At least stay a couple more days until the storm calms down. I have soup on the stove and a few drinking options in my fridge. Though, if you have a death wish, by all means, I can’t stop you, go on out there."
You stared up at the man as he stared down at you, his eyes moving around your face before he huffed, "Got any beer?"
"Beer?" You asked, slightly deadpanned, as the man looked back down at you and nodded, "Yeah... Uh, yeah, I got beer. Uh, just follow me, please." Breaking away, you turned and made your way to your kitchen, the sound of the man's heavy footsteps following close behind you. Reaching the stove, you grabbed a bowl from the cupboard before grabbing the large spoon and pouring a bit of mashed potato and onion soup into the bowl. Turning to the fridge, you grabbed one of the Coronas you had next to your hard lemonades before shutting the door with your hip. 
Turning, you found the man sitting on the stool, his lower arms resting on your counter. Clearing your throat, you set the beer and bowl of soup down before him before you grabbed your own soup. "Thanks," You heard him mutter slightly as you turned your back. 
Leaning against the corner of the counter, you stirred your soup around with a spoon, feeling very awkward. Glancing over as the man took a long sip of his beer, you spoke up once more. "Uh, may I know your name?" You asked, watching as he froze, spoon halfway to his mouth, "I mean, it's only fair. You know my name, and I've most likely saved your life and all. Nasty storm."
The man took another sip before setting the glass bottle aside, running his hand through his hair before glancing over at you, "... I'm Logan."
"Logan..." You repeated the name slowly, testing it out, "Well... What were you doing in my woods before you fell unconscious?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Logan shrugged, glancing away at the picture of a moose on your wall before taking another sip of his beer. Silence followed the question and you wondered why he hadn't answered. What was he hiding? Was he even hiding anything? Could he even remember? What did he know? What did he know about you?
"You live 'ere?" He suddenly asked, making you pause eating this time.
"Of course I do. What kind of question is that?" You asked, looking up at the man once more with an eyebrow raised before pushing off of the counter and tossing your empty bowl in the sink. You quickly rushed away from the kitchen, Logan watching you as you grabbed your winter coat from the hook and shrugged it on.
"Where ya goin'?" He asked as you slid on your gloves and grabbed your old messenger bag.
"Out to grab more wood for my furnace and fireplace." You answered simply. "It'll take a bit. So, if you're not here when I get back, I'll understand. But you should at least stay until the snow dies down and I can get you a ride into town."
Logan pursed his lips, finishing off his beer before speaking, "'nd ya think ya can trust me? Some stranger?" He asked as you made your way to the back door, shuffling your boots on.
You paused at the back door, hand on the door handle, "Yeah. I can trust you." You said confidently before turning to look at the burly man with a slight grin, "There's more beer in the fridge if you want it, and water too if you're still thirsty."
And with that, you opened and shut the door behind you, a waft of cold air hitting you in the face before you started walking along the thick snow to the side of your cabin.
~~~
"Logan! Could you help me in the kitchen for a moment!?" You called out aimlessly in the cabin from the said kitchen, hands covered in dough and flour.
Needing the dough, you smiled as you heard the familiar heavy footsteps make their way to you. Logan huffed, pulling his hands from his jeans pockets as he made his way over. "Wha' do ya need me fo'?" He grumbled, leaning against the counter. 
You rolled your eyes playfully, gesturing to the bag of flour on the counter beside the both of you, "Could you pour me some of that? I miscalculated how much I was going to need."
Logan grunted, grabbing the bag and dumping a small pile onto the dough, "That good?" He asked and you smiled with a nod.
"Yep! Perfect, thank you, Lo." You replied, smiling up at him as he stepped back, eyeing you curiously.
"What're ya makin'?" Logan asked, peering over your shoulder at what you were doing.
You grinned lightly, "Pie dough." You stated, glancing up at him.
"Pie dough?" He asked, "What kind of pie?"
"Cherry."
He stared at you, his eyebrows furrowed. "No kiddin'?"
"Yup." You giggled, grinning brightly at the man. "Didn't I tell you about it last night?"
Logan shook his head, "Nah, ya didn't mention it. Didn't say a thin'."
"Well," You began, "I'm making cherry pie. It'll be ready for dessert tonight. Just have to make it, bake it, and give it enough time to cool down a bit." You glanced up at him before finishing, "Wanna help me with this?"
Logan huffed, "I don't know… I ain’t good at bakin’." He began, watching as you tried to blow a couple of stray hairs from your face, "I was goin' to go out and get more wood for the fire." He answered, bringing his hand up to brush the stubborn hairs away from your face and behind your ear, making your face heat up as you smiled sheepishly up at him.
"We already have enough firewood in here to last us a few more days, Lo." You laughed out, looking back down at the dough on the counter.
"Fine. But ya owe me a beer," Logan answered, pouring a bit more flour over your dough before you could ask him to do it "And an extra slice of the pie." 
Your smile widened, chuckling lightly, "It's not like you take the beer anyway." You teased as Logan scoffed softly, rolling his eyes. "But, you may have an extra piece, maybe three pieces, since you're helping me and all."
"Fine by me," Logan muttered, "Whaddya want me to do?"
"Oh, uh, could you cut me up some of those cherries, and make sure the pits are out of them? Cherry pits have amygdalin."
“Amy-wha’ now?” Logan asked, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.
“Amygdalin.” You corrected, “It’s what’s in cherry pits. Our body converts it into cyanide.” You answered as Logan took in what you were saying, his lips just pressed onto the glass rim of the beer bottle as he paused.
Logan hummed deeply before finally taking a sip of his drink, grabbing the see-through bag of pre-washed cherries with one hand. Glancing over at him briefly, you couldn't help but smile. It had been a little over a month since you found Logan in the snow. And the past month had been pretty amazing. After the initial awkwardness passed, Logan became really nice to talk to and even began to become a little fun to be around, though he was still quiet and kept to himself for the most part.
The only thing that ever seemed to truly change was when he would wake up in the middle of the night screaming from inside his guest bedroom. The first time it happened, you had rushed over to his room across from yours and came face to face with a set of claws. He didn't hurt you, but he apologized to you as if he did. He didn't really talk to you much after the first nightmare, and it took you a mighty long time to get him to open back up to you again. Though he was rather stubborn, so were you, and with a lot of reassurance, you finally cracked him out of his shell enough for him not to run away into the snowstorm. And after a long conversation by the fire, and with warm coffee filling your stomachs, you finally got some of his story. 
And though you feared that he was going to leave you, Logan stayed.
And the longer he stayed, the more you began to fall for him. Under that gruff exterior, Logan was actually a softie. A sarcastic, sarcastic, softie. It was one of the many things you loved about him. And you were sure that he might've felt the same, or at least something close to it. From lingering glances and the less-than-accidental touches, he was certainly getting close to you, or closer than he usually let himself get to anyone. He had thought about leaving, in the middle of the night, or in the early morning before you woke up. But if Logan had left, he would’ve felt guilty, leaving you all alone, only for you to wake up and not find him there. That tension was there. And that fear of accidentally hurting you was still there. And it scared him. It scared him at how close he was actually getting to you.
"Bub," Logan called out, making you jump slightly and look up at him as you snapped out of your daydreaming. Logan stared down at you, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Are ya okay?"
You nodded slightly, wiping the flour off the best you could before going over to wash them in the sink, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just lost in thought."
Logan watched you carefully, "What 'bout?" He asked and you tilted your head slightly as you thought.
"Hmm… Nothing really... Uh, it happens when I bake." You mutter sheepishly, reaching out for the dish towel on the oven handle only to find it right in front of your face, in Logan's hand. Giving him a thankful smile, you take the small towel, drying your hands off. "Thank you, Logan. Are those cherries ready?" You asked, looking over past his figure to take a look at the cherries he directed for the pie.
"They're ready," He answered, grabbing your attention again, "There's somethin' buzzin' around in that pretty head of yours."
"Hm?" You hummed, raising a brow curiously. "Somethin’ buzzin’ around?" You repeated questioningly with a smile.
Logan chuckled dryly, stepping closer to you, smirking, "Don't play coy with me, Y/N. Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"
You flushed lightly, biting your bottom lip and shifting your weight uncomfortably under his gaze. Your heart fluttered lightly at his closeness. He looked so gorgeous today. Hair all clean from a fresh shower, washed-out jeans, and in his new flannel that you bought him. And that look upon his face, eyes narrowed playfully, filled with mirth; the chocolate brown speckled with hints of green. And that grin, encompassed by his freshly-trimmed beard. Why did he have to be so handsome... And smell so nice? And how did he shape his hair in that way, all cute and pointy? It truly fascinated you. 
"Uhhhh," You stammered intelligently, unsure of whether you should answer him. Or just keep thinking. Yeah, thinking sounded nice. Suddenly, you felt Logan's hands on either side of your body, your hands instinctively coming up to latch onto Logan's shoulders as he picked you up and onto the flour-free counter. "Logan..." You breathed out in slight shock and surprise. His hands wrapped around your waist, standing between your knees.
"If ya don't wanna talk, ya don't have to." He murmured lowly, his dark eyes scanning your features, making you shift in your seat slightly under his intense gaze. “I ain’t gonna force you to talk if ya don’t wan’ to.”
"And let me guess, it'll help if I talk about it?" You questioned with a chuckle, shaking your head slowly.
"It might." He answered confidently, nonchalantly.
You gave him a look, crossing your arms over your chest, "And what if I was just daydreaming? Is it so wrong to daydream?" Unable to stop the corners of your lips from twitching.
"Depends. Do ya daydream 'bout me?" Logan asked in response and you sighed exasperatedly, shrugging your shoulders slightly.
"Do I daydream about you, Lo?" You asked yourself as if you were thinking it over. "I don't know. What would you think if I did?" You then asked, gaining the courage to make eye contact. 
Logan raised a brow, his grin widening. "I'd be flattered, bub." He answered, as he watched you roll your eyes playfully.
"You would." You agreed, giving him a teasing grin.
"I probably would tease ya a bit." He continued, "Daydreamin' 'bout me and all."
"You would." You repeated, lowering your voice slightly with slight annoyance, glancing off to the side, right at your unfinished pie. You really needed to finish that pie… Maybe in the end you’d have enough leftover dough for smaller pies… That’d be cute…
"I'd probably kiss ya." Logan then said.
"You would-" You paused, blinking before turning to look up at him, eyes wide and face flushed. "Wait, what?" You asked, a confused look forming on your face. Did he really say what you thought he said..?
Logan's smirk dwindled, "Do you not want me to?" He asked, and you quickly responded by shaking your head.
"No! I mean, yes! I mean... Um…" You trailed off, trying to think of a way out of this embarrassing mess. "Um… I'd kinda… Like that…" You mumbled the last part, trying to hide how embarrassed you suddenly felt. You never expected him to say anything like that.
"Really?" Logan said, seeming genuinely surprised as he watched you nod. 
"Yup." You replied quickly, hoping that he wouldn't hear the faint squeak in your voice.
"You sure, bub?" He questioned. "Because, if this is gonna make you uncomf-"
Rolling your eyes, you uncrossed your arms, "Oh, shut up and kiss me, Logan." You growled, grabbing the collar of his flannel, and pulling him towards you, pressing your lips harshly against his own, making him pause for a moment before kissing back. Your hands went from his collar to tangled in his hair, tugging gently, while his grip on your hips tightened slightly. His fingers slid a bit under the hem of your shirt, burning against the small portion of your cool skin that he had found at your waist. After a few moments, you pulled back, panting slightly. "You taste like cherries." You muttered breathlessly.
"I may have snuck some when ya weren't lookin’." He grinned a toothy grin, looking down at you mischievously.
You chuckled slightly. "What am I going to do with you?" You commented, feeling his warm fingers brush through your hair as they rested on the nape of your neck before he leaned forward, capturing your lips once more.
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