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hannibals-favourite-meal · 19 days

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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

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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justsomerandomfanfic · 18 days

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Just A Little Bit Jealous - Logan Howlett X GN Reader

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."

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luminnara · 1 year

Text

the beast inside | wolverine x mutant!reader (18+ ONLY)

Summary: you wake up in a strange, cold military facility...and you aren’t alone.

Warnings: (attempted) breeding, not really ABO but feral man beast vibes, monster fucker adjacent, SEX, fem reader but not super heavily described as such

Your head was throbbing, your brain seemingly attempting to beat its way out of your skull from the inside. That was the first thing you noticed.

The second thing was the cold sterility of your surroundings, the air tasting stale and recycled, the surface beneath your hands smooth and cool like concrete. When you managed to crack your eyes open, you were forced to immediately squint as a harsh, industrial light suddenly made your splitting headache even worse, and when you looked around, you found that your worst fears had been realized.

You had been captured.

The room—if it could even be called a room—was dingy and gray, sparsely furnished with an uncomfortable looking cot and…and that was about it, really. A thin blanket sat folded up on the cot, a luxury you supposed you were meant to be thankful for, and as you crawled to your feet, you felt a shiver run through your body.

That’s when you realized you were completely unclothed, and the threadbare blanket would be your only source of comfort.

You grabbed it with shaky hands, draping it over your shoulders and pulling it close as you turned in a small circle. The walls of your cell looked like plexiglass, or something similar, reinforced with cage-like wiring inside. As you approached one of them, you found yourself staring out into a dim hallway, the light in your cell so bright that you could barely make out anything at all. Despite the glare and the shadows, however, you could see other cells, most of them dim and likely unused...

And one with the light on.

You felt your heart give a hopeful little leap. Maybe you weren’t alone in this place, after all. Maybe this meant you had a chance to escape, or at the very least, socialize and save yourself from spiraling into a lonely sort of delirium. Maybe you could make a friend.

“Hello?” You called out, your mouth feeling dry and your tongue feeling thick. When there was no reply, you realized your cell might be soundproof—but that didn’t stop you from trying again.

“Hello? Is—is there anybody else here?”

This time, you were answered by a roar. A real, honest to god roar, the sort that no regular human could ever hope to make. It sent terror flying up your spine, every single nerve ending on edge as some primal, animal part of your brain recognized it as the roar of a predator.

“S-sorry!” You stammered quickly, stumbling back towards your cot. Was that stupid? Probably, but what else were you supposed to do? There was some sort of monster, just down the hall, and you suddenly regretted making your presence known.

Another angry roar echoed into your cell and you busied yourself with huddling under your blanket. You had definitely pissed the monster off, the roars punctuated with loud, slamming thuds. Oh, fuck, was it trying to get to you now? You curled in on yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as you waited for the sound of shattering glass and then the pain that would come after when this thing ripped you apart.

But there was no shattering glass, only the blunt, muffled thuds of whatever it was trying to get to you. What the hell was this place, that it housed angry-sounding monsters? And why the hell were you trapped there, too?

As you lay curled up on your rickety little cot, you tried to remember everything. You tried to remember anything. You could recall your home, your family, the town you lived in...you could still remember your home phone number, and the job interview you had next Tuesday. Well, for all you knew, it was next Tuesday already, and you had missed it completely...but something told you that you had bigger things to worry about.

Like how you had wound up in this cold, gray cage.

You pulled the thing blanket tighter around yourself as you sniffled. There wasn’t any use in crying, but there wasn’t anything else to do, was there? You knew why you had been brought here. You could guess that it had something to do with those reports in the news, headlines about mutants and think pieces on whether they were a threat to society or not.

No, not they.

You.

Why anybody would want to capture you, you had no idea. You weren’t like the mutants who were always in the news. You didn’t have super strong powers like that Magneto guy, and you couldn’t camouflage yourself in someone else’s skin like the blue lady. You were just...you, just a person, just someone who had always tried to hide and evidently failed. And now, you were trapped in a cell, probably thanks to some kind of government program like the ones you heard rumors and conspiracy theories about, and they hadn’t even given you food.

The thought made you realize how hungry you were, stomach growling pitifully and with impeccable timing.

“Hey!” you barked, wiping away tears and sitting up and letting the blanket fall from your shoulders. “I know someone’s listening right now. I know you’re watching me. What’s it take to get some food around here?”

You weren’t sure what you expected, but you were met with nothing but silence. You craned your neck, looking around at the ceiling, and there you saw it--a small red light, blinking rhythmically, no doubt attached to a camera.

“Come on, what’s your angle here?” you shouted, frustration growing. “Don’t you feed your prisoners?

Still nothing.

You let out a frustrated yell, filled with momentary rage and enough confidence to try to do something--but when you were answered by that roaring monster down the hall, you immediately dove back under the blanket and made yourself as small as possible. If that was some sort of guard dog intended to keep you under control, it was doing a great job of it so far. You were too scared to do any more shouting, and as the hours passed and your hunger grew, you realized you had no choice but to conserve your energy, and you did your best to get some sleep.

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

The hours stretched into days.

You kept track by etching tally marks into the floor. With nothing in the form of clippers or files, your nails were left unchecked, and they were quickly growing back out into claws. Short, curved, and wickedly sharp, they were the most physically obvious aspect of your mutation--and you had always tried to hide them. Now, you had no way to, and something told you that was intentional.

Your captors fed you twice a day. Two, sometimes three, men in generic, unspecific military uniforms would stroll down the hall, one with a metal tray in his hands while the other held a rifle. They fed you slop, a beige mixture that looked like it should be served in a trough for pigs, and at first, you had refused it. You had turned your nose up and they had laughed, telling you that you’d break eventually, because even he had, and you were nowhere near as tough as him. You hadn’t known who they’d been talking about initially, but when you’d started seeing the third man joining the other two, you’d realized that it meant they’d be stopping at the cell down the hall...and that that was probably who they were referring to.

Him.

For some reason, knowing that the monster was eating the garbage they gave both of you made you feel a little bit better. It obviously wasn’t poisoned, because he was getting louder and louder by the day, roaring and throwing himself against the walls. Once, you almost caught a glimpse of him, as they pulled him out of his cell and forced him to walk away. You had your face smooshed against the plexiglass, desperate for a look, but all you managed to see was a vaguely human shape before he was out of sight entirely.

It only made you wonder about him more.

The days passed, and you started obediently eating your meals. The slop stopped being revolting as you got used to it, and you actually started looking forward to feeding time. When you saw the soldiers approaching with a tray, you knew it was going to be a good day--they were going to throw a few insults your way and then leave you alone. When they showed up empty handed, though, you knew it would be worse...because that meant they were going to be dragging you down the hall, away from your monstrous neighbor and up to a lab where they took your blood and poked and prodded at you.

They ran tests. They tortured you. You felt icy cold water tubs and burning hot coals. You were pumped full of insulin and shocked with electricity. It seemed like the scientists wanted to try every archaic, disproven science experiment ever recorded, and there was no end in sight.

“Wh-why are you doing this?” you managed to groan one day, vision swimming as you were roused from a quick coma.

“Oh, don’t worry yourself too much,” a man answered. “Just know that you’re going to be very, very helpful here. You’ll be playing a very important role in our program.”

And then your vision went black and your head grew light and you passed out, something you had unfortunately grown used to on lab days. When you came to again, you were back in your cell, naked, as always, but clean as if you had been recently scrubbed down. You grabbed your little blanket, wrapped it around yourself, and collapsed onto your cot, as you always did.

The cycle was becoming repetitive.

You slept when you could, usually waking up when your neighbor down the hall decided it was time to throw a tantrum. You never heard him speak, but you heard the military men refer to him as Weapon X, and that was the only name he was given. You started calling him X in your head, and though it still felt impersonal and cold, just like your prison, it was better than nothing. It made you feel closer to him, somehow, more familiar, and you found yourself wondering what he was like.

He was wondering the same thing about you.

He didn’t know his name. Not really. He didn’t know where he was, or who he was. He was pretty sure that he had, at some point, had another life, but that was far behind him. Now, all he knew was the cage he lived and paced in, the men he always tried to cut in half, and the relatively new, absolutely delicious, smell that had begun wafting down the hall.

The animalistic part of him, the beast inside, knew what it was. An adult female, not a human but a mutant just like him. He was drawn to it, and from the very first moment he had been awoken by your voice, he had known how badly he needed to reach its source. So he threw himself against the walls of his cell until he was bloody, slashing at them with his adamantium claws over and over and over again. He would do whatever it took to get to you, he would destroy himself if he had to…and Stryker’s team knew that. Whenever they took him out for testing, they repaired the cell, giving themselves more time to assess the situation and make a decision. It was clear that Weapon X wanted you, and they were running out of ways to keep him contained. He was going to get to you one way or another, it seemed.

So one day, he was allowed to.

You heard him before you saw him. A siren suddenly blared throughout the facility, rousing you from your sleep, and you found yourself bathed in a red light rather than the usual bright white. Panic flooded your system and you immediately jumped to your feet, hoping that something had happened and this was your chance to escape—but you found the walls of your cell firmly intact, and your confusion only mounted.

Then, you heard the snarling, and you knew it was him.

Your cell door slid open and for a moment, you felt relief washing over you. There were no soldiers waiting on the other side with guns and cattle prods, just a long, almost empty hallway. At the sound of heavy footsteps, however, you stepped back towards your cot, suddenly wondering if you would prefer to met by the soldiers rather than X.

When he appeared in front of you, your mouth suddenly went dry.

He was just as naked as you were, covered in a sheen of sweat as his chest rose and fell with heavy, ragged breaths. You could feel your face absolutely burning as you desperately tried to keep your eyes from wandering too far down, gluing them to slightly more respectable areas rather than where they really wanted to roam. Refusing to give in, you focused on his torso, taking in the sight of his broad, well muscled chest as you slowly gathered the courage to make your way up.

When you did, you realized he was handsome, with dark hair and bright, intelligent eyes, and he was lighting some sort of fire inside you that you didn’t know was there.

His nostrils flared, taking in your scent. As he stepped into the cell, the door slid shut behind him, and you were trapped—alone, with this beast of a man, and no way out. Was that a bad thing? …should you be scared? You tried to swallow and expected to feel the usual panic rising in your chest, but you suddenly found yourself feeling incredibly calm, and as X walked towards you, you realized why.

He didn’t want to hurt you. There was nothing overly aggressive in his body language. His movements were cautious, yes, measured and wary, but…he seemed curious above all else, watching you, studying you. He moved like an animal, a predator, trying to decide whether you were friend or foe. Honestly? Judging by those muscles, you didn’t have much of a chance against him, so you were hoping you came off as friendly.

“H-hey,” you managed to choke out, voice rough from disuse. You sounded meeker than you had intended, but you stood your ground, facing him as he drew closer. “Hey.”

X froze, tilting his head as he listened. Thinking. Waiting. He was cautious, learning about you in that intelligent, uncanny way that predators learn about their prey.

You expected a reply of some kind, but when none came, you cleared your throat.

“I-I, uh—whoa,” you reeled back as he suddenly leaned in, nose pressed against your neck.

He inhaled deeply, breathing in your scent, and you felt a chill fly down your spine. His skin was so warm, and there was suddenly so much of him all around you, the musky, masculine smell of his body flooding your senses as he pressed himself against you.

You didn’t know what you should do. You didn’t know what you could do. But what you did know was that as his hands found your waist, his grip was surprisingly gentle, as if X was afraid of breaking you somehow. He was gentler than you thought possible for someone who roared and slammed into the walls of his cell all day long, but as much as you wanted to marvel at his soft, caring behavior, he didn’t seem too keen on giving you the chance.

With his nose still pressed against your neck, he pulled you up against him. You were barely aware of the sound of the door sliding shut somewhere in the distance, trapping you there with this absolute beast of a man who seemed intent on feeling every part of you. And after so many weeks of isolation, you were so touch starved that you were happy to let him run his hands up and down your sides.

They were big and warm, softer than you had imagined. Everything about his appearance suggested that his fingers should be rough and covered in callouses, but as he grasped your lower back, they felt perfectly smooth. When you raised nervous, shaky hands and cautiously placed them on his own back, you found that he was free of scars and blemishes, as well. Who was this wild man, with his thick, dark hair and beard, and his gravelly, throaty growl? Why was he imprisoned there with you, and, more importantly, why were you suddenly together?

Your hands slipped down his sides and he seemed to almost curl around you, nudging at you gently with his nose as if he enjoyed the feeling. As you gave him a small push, though, he withdrew slightly, taking a step back when you repeated the motion and looking down at you in confusion.

“What’s your name?” You asked as you looked at his face. When he was silent, you continued with, “…do you have a name?”

He paused in thought and then nodded slowly, his eyes glued to yours with such intensity you wanted to look away out of instinct.

“Can you tell me what it is?”

He grunted and shook his head, then closed the distance between the two of you and returned to his previous investigation of your body and scent. You held still, though you were becoming significantly less nervous as time passed and you hadn’t been torn to pieces yet. X felt your hips and back and shoulders, holding your head in a clumsy yet gentle grip as he gazed down at you. You felt that it was safe to assume he couldn’t, or simply wouldn’t, speak, but you were finding that his body language was fairly easy to read, and his intentions were clear as day:

He liked you.

He really, really liked you.

He was watching your face carefully, waiting for something. Waiting for you to move or reply, to give him permission or deny him. Honestly, you found him incredibly handsome, and something about his features, something about his eyes was utterly captivating. He had yet to speak, and maybe he never would…but you could see that he wanted to communicate with you, and you somehow knew that he wasn’t going to do anything unless you moved first.

When you placed a hand on his jaw, a low rumble sounded from his chest, and you guessed that he was pleased with your response to his advances. He turned his head and practically nuzzled into your palm, nostrils flaring as he took in your scent. You found that his beard was softer than it looked, and that somehow, he was perfectly healthy, despite his living conditions. Well…physically healthy, at least.

“Why are you here?” You tried asking.

His eyes never left yours, even as his hands slipped away from your hips. He raised a fist in front of you and you watched the muscles in his arm flex, tendons straining as three sharp, silver metal claws slid out from the back of his hand, piercing the skin between his fingers as they elongated.

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight. So he was a mutant, just like you...maybe more like you than you even knew.

“How long have you been here?” You asked, eyeing the claws warily. They were sharp and straight, like knives, and there was no doubt in your mind that a guy like him, wielding weapons like those, could do some serious damage. You preferred not to be on the receiving end of them.

X let out a grunt and dropped his hand to his side, the claws sliding back inside.

“…does that hurt?” You asked.

Another grunt and a shake of his head. Alright, that was a no, then, and you got the feeling that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It was obvious that he was growing impatient, and when both of his hands returned to your waist, he tightened his grip and pulled you up against him. That rumble was back in his chest, seeming to vibrate your entire skeleton as your skin met his.

It sent shivers up your spine. While you had been far too nervous to spend much time looking at any part of him below his waist, you could feel him there, pressed so close, and only a fool wouldn’t know what he wanted.

You were a little surprised to find that you wanted the same thing.

With your face growing incredibly warm, you tried to focus on his eyes. They were glued to you once more, watching your every move. His nostrils twitched. His shoulders rose and fell steadily with his breathing. He was waiting for you, holding himself back despite the straining muscles you felt against your abdomen. As your hand slipped up the side of his neck, you found that you enjoyed the feeling of him there with you, and you couldn’t deny the excitement that you felt building up within yourself.

Maybe it was because you had been so isolated for so long. Maybe you were so incredibly touch starved that you were perfectly willing to fuck the first kind soul you’d encountered in this entire godforsaken facility. Or maybe this was something more akin to fate, an almost cruel joke that you would find a man as enticing as him in a place like that. The reason didn’t really matter to you, not at all; the only thing that mattered was the feeling of his rough hands dipping between your thighs after you gave him a nod, and the heat of his breath against your neck as he nuzzled into you.

His fingers were clumsy. Desperate. There was no softness in his motions, no romance...and yet you still sucked in a shaky, surprised breath when they dipped inside of you. X let out a pleased sound, something close to his grunts from before but so much sexier, and when he withdrew his hand, you watched with wide eyes as he licked it clean. Judging by the growl, he seemed to enjoy the taste of you.

He pulled back and turned you around quickly, pressing you into the wall as he grabbed your hips again, roughly this time. At the feeling of his cock teasing you from behind, you let out a gasp, and when he thrust inside, you almost couldn’t believe how good it felt. The stretch was delicious, the sensation of him pushing deeper making your fingers curl into fists. He fucked you like a starved man, whose only meal was you, and whose very survival depended on fucking you senseless.

You moaned and whined, jumping as his hands moved up to grab at your tits. He squeezed you wherever he could, leaving behind bruises that bloomed just like your building orgasm…and when you came, the snarl he let out had you immediately tipping even further over the edge, eyes squeezed shut as you cried out.

X came inside you, cock pulsing as he filled you. It wasn’t until he stepped back and you felt the cool air of your prison cell that you realized exactly how hot his skin was, and as he stood there, shiny with sweat, chest heaving, dark eyes watching you, you knew that you’d be going for a round two. And three. And as many as you could fit in before someone came to drag him away from you again. Because now, as you approached him on shaky legs and placed a hand on his jaw, you realized exactly how much you liked your wild, terrifying neighbor from down the hall.

#wolverine x reader #Wolverine #the beast inside #X-men #x men x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x y/n

2K notes · View notes

ichorai · 1 year

Text

as it was ; logan howlett.

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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?”

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.

“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.”

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.

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.”

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.”

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bewitchedme-body-and-soul · 1 year

Text

logan relationship alphabet

warnings: not edited, canon typical violence, cursing, mentions of nsfw subjects, mentions of breeding, mentions of scent kink, if there’s more feel free to let me know

due to 18+ themes minors please do not interact

a/n: ty to @humanalien01 for dealing with my rambles about him and helping me make decisions

A = Arguments(How often do you two argue? Who apologizes first? How do they make up? etc)

not very often do the two of you fight, but when you do, it’s definitely bad. He can be very stubborn and headstrong and a royal pain in the ass.

he apologizes first usually he can’t handle knowing you’re mad at him

he’d probably bring you a gift, something you love but not very expensive to make it up to you

B = Bedtime Routine(Do they prefer to be the big spoon or little spoon? Favourite sleeping position? etc)

he feels like he’s either a big spoon or you’re laying on top of him (pretty boy has anxiety so you’re like a weighted blanket for him), but definitely skin on skin contact in some way

C = Cook(Do they cook? Can they cook? What type of food do they like to cook for their partner?)

he’s not a great cook but he’s not the worst, don’t expect really fancy dishes, but he will make you breakfast often, typically eggs and bacon or sausage

D = DIY(Do they like to make gifts for their partner? Are they good at general DIY around the house? Do they enjoy doing it? )

he absolutely does, definitely the type to carve you little wooden figures & nicknacks. he’ll ask kitty or rouge for help if he thinks it needs painting but he tries his best to do it all by himself. he’s big on “it’s the thought that counts”

E = Effort(How much effort do they put into their relationship?)

he puts as much effort as he can muster, he’s so thankful for you and doesn’t want to do anything to make you hate him

F = First Date(Where do you go on your first date? How does it go etc?)

i see him as being someone who wants to spend the first date getting to know you, he probably also asks one of the female xmen (most likely rouge) on ideas especially more modern ideas, most likely sets up a picnic & sets up pillows and blankets in the back of his pick-up

G = Gifts(What kind of gifts do they gift their partner? What kind of gifts do they receive? etc)

probably gifts you simple but meaningful things, eventually he gifts you his dog tags

he’d love anything and everything you’d gift him, he’s so in love with you, you could gift him a rock that you thought was pretty and he be grateful

H = Honeymoon(Where do they go on Honeymoon? Details on the honeymoon etc.)

if you don’t have a dream do it, he’d most likely suggest a cabin in the canadian mountains with no-one around to bother the two of you, he just wants to spend time with you and bask in your presence

I = Intimacy(What do like they like? Where do they like to be intimate? Are they experienced etc?)

he’s over 200 years old, he definitely has experience. but intimacy is still hard for him, it takes time but he loves the slow and quiet moments with you, where it’s just the two of you cuddled up

J = Jealously(How jealous are they? How often do they get jealous? How they react? etc)

usually no, but sometimes he will, but it will take a lot to get him there but once he does he’ll pull you close and stare the other person down until they leave. it’s worse if they were making you uncomfortable, then he’d throw hands

K = Kink(Do they have any particular kinks?)

he definitely has a breeding kink, but he’s scared to actually get you pregnant because he doesn’t believe he’d be a good father

it’s canon and widely known that he has a strong sense of smell, there for he probably has at least a small scent kink, he loves the way you smell and especially when you smell like him so he makes a point for you to always smell like him

L = Long Distance(How do they cope with Long Distance? How they prefer to keep in contact? etc)

he’d hate it but if it was necessary he’d suffer through it. he’d be sure to text, call, and face-time as often as possible and ask about your day, he’d want to hear every detail

M = Marriage(Do they want to get married? Their wedding etc.)

he didn’t want to get married for a long time, until he met you and then shortly there after he changed his mind, and couldn’t wait to marry you

his wedding would be at the manor, charles would be officiant, if you’re alright with it i can see him asking other x-men to be in the wedding as well. like hank as his best man, rouge as the flower girl, & kurt as ring barer. he’d probably also want to invite his students, after-all the x-men and the rest of those at the institute are his family

N = Night’s Out(Where do they take their partner on nights out? How often do nights out happen?)

probably takes you to bars or restaurants, and occasionally accompanied by a movie

as often as he can swing, he believes you should treat your partner to dates as often as possible, because you shouldn’t stop wooing them just because you are in a relationship

O = Often(How often do you see each other? How many times a week? etc)

he makes a point to see you as often as he can, multiple times a week, if you’re an x men or teach at the school he’d ask for you both to share a room (if you were okay with it as well obviously)

if you weren’t an x-men or teacher, he would probably leave and see you after classes unless he had a mission, then he’d give you a call and tell you how much he loved you, just in case he couldn’t come back to you

P = Public Displays of Affection(Do they like PDA? Do they have boundaries etc.)

he’s okay with pda but he’s not one that he’ll full on make out with you in public, he’ll hold your hand, have his arm around your shoulders or waist, and give you kisses, but that’s about the extent of the pda.

Q = Quiet(Why do they get quiet? How does their partner solve it?)

he gets quiet when he gets in his head, which is usually after nightmares, or someone made a comment about how he’s undeserving of you.

some simple reassurance & snuggles solves this, tell him how much you love him, and how safe you feel around him.

R = Reunion(How they like to reunite with their partner?)

he’ll hold you tight and press a kiss to the crown of your head when he first sees you, he’ll then shove his face in your neck and inhale deeply. as i said before he loves your scent and while he was away he found himself missing it

S = Surprise(Do they like surprises? What kind of surprises do they like to get etc?)

he hates surprises..usually, he hates the waiting, now that being said he’s okay if they’re from you, because he trusts you with his entire mind, body and soul

if you text him or tell him you have a surprise for him, it’s an almost guarantee that he’ll make a dirty joke about it, he’d probably ask what color the lingerie set was that you’re gonna wear (good luck walking tomorrow if that actually was the surprise)

T = Texts(How often do they text? How do they react when they receive texts from their partner?)

he is absolutely god awful at texting. except with you. he’ll leave almost everyone on ‘read’ or ‘delivered’ never you though, he always responds as fast as he can. so when you hear everyone complain about him never answering you can’t help but giggle because you don’t have to deal with that

U = Unity(How well do they work with their partner? Do they make a good team?)

i feel like you’d work well, he’d be sure to always check in and protect you

V = Vacation(Favourite vacation spot to take their partner?)

again, canadian mountains, this man’s ideal vacation is just the two of you, away from everyone and everything unbothered

W = When(At what point do they move into together? What kind of place? etc)

if you’re a teacher at the institute or x-men & live in the mansion, i can see it being a few months in maybe like 6

if you aren’t either of those, it maybe closer to a year, it’ll probably start out with an apartment but eventually he wants to get a cabin for the two of you (and any kids you may have)

X = X-ray(What is their favourite body part on their partner?)

i definitely think he’s an ass/thighs man, but also a tummy kinda guy, he loves being able to grab you

Y = you(A random headcanon about your relationship.)

he’s so gentle with you for someone labeled as an “animal” and a “killing machine”

Z =Zoom(Zoom into the future, what does your future look like?)

the two of you, in a cabin somewhere in the woods (most likely canadian mountains), unbothered, he’s mostly retired from x-men duties (he’d still go on missions if they needed him contrary to what he says), occasionally someone from the team will visit, maybe some animals and a garden (he wants to go into town as little as possible).

maybe even a few kids if that’s what you wanted, as many as you wanted, and if they eventually showed signs of developing mutations he’ll be sure to assure them that there’s nothing wrong with them no matter what anyone may say. hell teach them to control their power, and if it’s too much for just him he’ll ask xavier for help. he’d also be sure too teach them that they should use their gifts to help people & never cause unnecessary harm

#they have bewitched me #wolverine x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #wolverine fanfiction #xmen imagine #x men fanfiction #xmen x reader #xmen x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x you

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honey-on-mars · 11 months

Text

Jellybean? really? come on.

Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

genre: fluff

Summary: pregnant reader doesn’t know how to tell Logan that she’s Pregnant, but the beans spill at Erik and Raven’s wedding.

I’ve been off all day, I can’t seem to find a time or a way to tell Logan the news, and it’s killing me but I’m nervous he’ll react badly. Logan and I are currently at Erik and Raven’s wedding, which they decided to at the school that my brother, Charles, opened to help mutants learn to control their powers and live in a society with humans. We’re currently eating the we got from the buffet and it’s delicious. I slide my hands down my dress brushing off any crumbs of food. As I stood up, I decided to slip out onto the deck to get some fresh air, once my foot touched the ground outside, and the cool air hit my skin, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My hair immediately blew into my face, causing me to swipe my hair to the side. It’s not until a few moments later that I notice Logan standing by the door watching me. His deep voice calms me as he moves his hands to rest around my waist, hugging me from behind, "Hey bub, is everything alright? You’ve barely spoken a word all night? Normally you love talking and seeing everyone" the hot air from his mouth brushing against my neck. I relax my body against his my head nuzzling into his shoulder, I give him a simple response, "Yeah everything's fine, just been tired lately, came out for some air".

I feel him raise his brows into my neck, even though I wasn’t looking at him I could clearly the look on his face in my head. He knew I was lying to him, that there was something wrong. I sighed and just stared at the ground for a moment before he said, "Y/n, I'm not a telepath like your brother. I’m not able to read your mind when you’re upset and I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now, so please just tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. please. just so I can help ease your worries" Others might not have been able to tell if they heard him but I knew he was sincerely begging me to tell him. I sigh before turning my body to face him, his arms still wrapped around me. He lifted his head from my shoulder and leaned into my forehead instead, "Logan…I love you, so much. which is why I need for you to listen carefully and not freak out with what I’m about to tell you." I sigh, taking a deep breath, my eyes shut, and my head tilts downward slightly. Logan grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger lifting my head to face him again.“Love, please tell me… you’re making me nervous” I open my eyes again staring into his that are filled with love and worry for me, and that’s when I know I was worried for nothing. “Logan, my love…I’m pregnant.” his eyes widened, and for a split second, worry and fear overcame me again. But soon I’m being lifted into the air, with Logan peppering kisses onto my face repeatedly telling me I love you, and for just a split second I’m fairly certain he’s forgotten how to breathe. Then he finally sets me down and asks “I’m gonna be a father...like for real? seriously? This isn’t some cruel joke?”He takes my hands in his own and I rub my thumb against the back of his hand reassuring him. "It's not a joke. You know I'd never mess with you like that." Then suddenly I’m up in the air all over again, except this time he’s spinning me in circles laughing, my hands cup his face and I’m leaning my forehead into his. As he gently sets me back down I kiss his lips softly and say “I love you too, and I’m sure our little jellybean will love you just as much” Then his eyebrow arches in that way same way it always does, “Jeallybean? really? come on.” I look back at him, “Are you gonna be carrying a baby for nine months or am I? Answer carefully Mr. Howlett” he easily relents “you. you are. you’re going to be carrying my baby in that wonderful body of yours, Mrs. Howlett” I smiled, leaning up on my toes, and wrapping my arms around his neck. "We're gonna have a baby," I say, the giddy in my voice clearly evident. He rests his forehead against mine grinning down at me,”yes, yes we are, my love.” and I know all my fear and worry was for naught.

#xmen #logan howlett #x reader #fem!reader #logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #xmen x you #logan howlett x you #xmen fanfiction #Logan howler fanfics #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x y/n #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfic

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏' 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍

🐰easter masterlist🐰

summary - your husband, santa ari levinson, brings you to meet his good old friend, easter bunny logan howlett.

warning - smut, cuckolding, oral sex, fingering, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, human reader, easter bunny male, dumb bimbo reader, polyamorous, being used by men.

18+ only please, the gif and header aren't mine. happy easter!

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.

You didn’t know why Ari had given you this outfit to wear, but you weren’t complaining. It was cute and pink. You had smiled at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips before stripping and slowly pulling on the white stocking, followed by the adorable pink bodysuit that was a bit tight, but you had shrugged it off. Your breasts were pushed up, nearly falling out, and you had noticed the cute little fluffy white tail attached to it. You shrugged, slipping into the soft pink heels and placing the bunny ears on your head before walking to the mirror and checking your outfit out. You giggled to yourself, leaning forward to swipe some cherry-flavoured gloss across your plump lips before turning and smiling at your husband. “This is so cute! What’s the occasion?”

Ari walks over, wrapping his arms around you and palming your plump cheeks as he holds you close to him. “I have a friend I want you to meet. Thought it would be nice of you to dress up for him.” He hums, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. “You’re going to be a good bunny, aren’t you, baby girl?” You nod as you stare up at him with wide eyes, wrapping your tiny arms around his giant form, and lean into him. He smiles down at you before leading you out of your bedroom and towards a portal that will take you to the mystery man. He smiles as you clutch onto him, and Ari hears a gasp as you both appear at the most beautiful field you have ever seen. A small giggle escapes you as you see tiny bunnies hopping around and getting things done.

“Oh my god! Bunnies!” You turn and look at your husband with wide eyes. “Am I getting to meet the Easter Bunny?!” Ari grins at the excitement in your voice and the awe in your eyes. He nods, and you squeal, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!”

“Well, if I knew she’d be this excited to meet little old me, I would’ve brought some chocolate eggs.” You spin around, lifting your head up as you stare wide-eyed at the huge man. He smiles at you, causing your knees to buckle and you to lean slightly into your husband. “Hi, little bunny.” You choke, feeling slick build between your thighs at his voice and size.

“H–hi”, You stutter, a whimper slipping past your lips, realising you are between two vast and handsome men. “I–it’s nice to meet you.” You slightly stumble as you stick your hand out, biting your lip as a moan threatens to break out as he covers your tiny hand with his massive one. His skin is so warm and inviting, and your eyes drift down. You wonder what else is like that, and your eyes nearly bug out of your head at the bulge that rests between his legs before they quickly shoot up, your cheeks heating as he stares down at you with a smirk.

Both men chuckle before Ari pulls back and looks down at you. “You won’t mind hanging out with Logan, do you? I have to go and deal with the elves.” You blink slowly, your gaze moving from one man to another, and you nod, feeling a bit fuzzy. Ari smiles at you before leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Be good for him, okay, baby?”

“Okay,” You whimper. Feeling your husband’s warmth causes your insides to feel funny, and the thought of being alone with this charming man intensifies it. “I love you, and don’t go so hard on them. They aren’t as bad as you think.” You pout, looking up at him with nothing but love.

Ari chuckles. “They are only good when you are around, my love. You don’t see how they are when it’s just me.” He looks down at your still pouting face, shaking his head. He places a kiss on them. “But for you, I won’t be so hard on them.” You are too busy staring at him to notice the nod and smirk he gives Logan before turning and returning to the north pole. You slowly turn, realising you're alone with him, and you catch his eyes on your tail before they slowly trail back up your body.

“I need help reaching for some eggs, little bunny. Can you help?” He looks innocent enough when he asks, causing you to nod immediately, smiling when he smiles at you before you follow him toward where the eggs are unreachable. “They’re just around here, and I can’t get my damn hands through something so small.” He growls, feeling his cock twitch at how tiny you are compared to him. Logan’s hand makes its way to the small of your back, leading you. “I like your outfit, bunny. It’s adorable, suits you.”

You smile up at him, feeling giddy. “Thank you! Ari picked it out for me.” You giggle, and as you let him lead you over to the area, you can feel yourself become soaked, and you are ashamed at the feeling because you love Ari and the elves. But Ari did tell you to be good for his friend, and you didn’t want to disappoint either of them. “Is this it?” You ask, looking up at him before looking down at the small hole.

Logan nods, pretending to be sad even though he and Ari had set it up before you arrived. “Yeah, sadly, I’m too big, and even my bunnies have tried, but there’s a spot not even they can reach.” Obviously, that was a lie, but you didn’t need to know that. You looked up at him with a heartbroken look, pouting as you thought of all those wasted chocolates and how sad the bunnies must feel.

You place your tiny hand on his thick arm, “I’m sorry! I can definitely help!” You immediately kneel, crawling into the hole, not knowing you’ve given the Easter Bunny an incredible view. His cock hardens and strains against his pants as he stares at your plump ass and the wet spot forming. He smirks, stepping closer. “Ugh, I–I can’t reach.” You wiggle, trying to come out, but you find yourself stuck. “Oh no! I think I’m stuck!” You cry, not understanding how feral Logan is slowly becoming. “H–help, please.” You whimper, and Logan kneels close behind you, groaning as he smells your arousal. “Logan?”

His large hands grip your hips, burying his face in your sopping cunt. “Mmm, you smell so sweet, bunny. A stuck little bunny all for me.” His tongue flicks out, licking your wetness through the material before sucking your cunt through your bodysuit. “I’ve got myself a dumb little bunny.” You whimper, clutching the ground beneath you as he continues to nose and suck your cunt before his hand comes up, gripping the material and ripping it. “I’m sorry for ruining your pretty outfit, bunny. I’m sure Ari will fix it for you.” He grunts, hand finding the fluffy tail connected to the destroyed material, squeezing it as he dives forward, licking and sucking your folds and juices into his mouth. The feral man finds your swollen button and begins to feast on it, swirling his tongue around and sucking it.

Your whines and whimpers fill the tiny hole, clutching the ground beneath you, and your head flops forward and rests into your hands. “I–is too good… P–please.” Every time you wiggle your hips, it turns Logan on even more. Seeing your plump ass and the fluffy tail makes him nearly snap. “W–what about Ari?...” You whimper, your mind slowly fading as the giant man devours you.

Logan chuckles, his lips and chin covered in your arousal. His eyes stare at your cunt as he begins to speak. “Now you’re worried about Ari, little bunny? You didn’t seem to care about your husband a few minutes ago.” He rubs your clit before slipping his finger inside you, thrusting and curling it. Logan feels his cock throb at the tiny little sounds that escape you. “Don’t worry bout your husband, little bunny. He’s the one who said you deserved a little treat.” He growls, launching forward again, sucking your swollen clit as he stretches you with his fingers. “So lucky to get a stuck little thing like you.” You cry, wiggling and clenching around him, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Slutty, bunny. Cumming round someone else’s fingers.” He groans, licking his lips at the sight of your cream around his fingers. He lifts them to his mouth and begins to suck on them. “Taste so fucking good. Know why all those men are so obsessed with you.”

You huff, sagging into the ground as your body fills with exhaustion. You squeal as Logan grabs your hips and tugs you out of the hole, placing your tiny body onto his lap. Logan wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing softly before moving his hand from your throat to your cheek, slapping it gently. “Wakey, wakey, little bunny.” You blink, dazed, and Logan gives you a devilish smile. “There you are. You’re such a good little bunny.” You provide a faint smile, feeling your body heat up at the praise. You whine as he lifts you slightly before your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your mouth drops open, “Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” Logan pushes his thick member through your sopping cunt, gripping your hips and slamming you down onto him. Your screams of pleasure echo throughout, your tiny hands grab his shoulders, and your nails dig into him.

“O–oh… Too big! Is good!” You lean into him, your face nuzzling into his neck. You're engulfed by him as he wraps his arms around you and begins to thrust up into you. You whimper and moan into him, clutching tightly as his pace picks up. His hand wraps into your hair and pulls your head back, your eyes hooded as you try and look at him through your lashes. Logan grins, leaning forward and pressing a rough kiss onto your lips. His tongue swipes across, and he groans into you.

“Taste like cherries, little bunny.” You whine when his tongue slips inside your mouth, dominating your entire being. Logan nips your bottom lip and pulls back, chuckling as you whimper and try to chase his lips. “Needy, bunny.” He fixes your little ears before standing and bouncing you up and down his cock. Logan walks over to the side of a hill, pushing you against it as he begins to pound into you, watching you slip from your mind and fully become his dumb little bunny. “Imagine if Ari could see you now, know what a slut his wife is.” Your nails dig into his biceps, holding onto him as you slip away. Logan groans as you pulsate around him, squeezing his monstrous cock as your juices squirt out of you and cover the large man. “Fuck! Jesus Christ, squeezing me so well, little bunny.” He holds your hips and digs his feet into the ground, thrusting harder and faster into you. “You think your husband would mind if I fill you up? Hmm? Think he’d be mad if you went home all pumped full and destroyed by another man?” He grins, and his head falls back, eyes screwing shut as his balls tighten and his cock twitches wildly, burying himself deep inside you before releasing his cum, thick spurts of it shoot out of his swollen tip and deep into your womb. Your moans fill his ears as you feel his cum fill you up, slowly leaking out of your small hole and down your legs onto the ground.

You wake to someone stroking your cheek, your eyes blinking open, and you smile as your gaze lands on your husband. “Ari!” You try and launch forward to hug him but find yourself sore and exhausted. You pout and look down to notice you have been changed into comfier clothes, and you begin to look around, wondering if it was all a dream, but when your eyes land on a smiling Logan, you know it wasn’t. You quickly look at Ari with wide eyes, opening your mouth to apologise when he kisses your forehead softly.

“I heard you were a good bunny, baby.” You nod slowly, sighing in relief as he lifts you into his lap, holding you close to him. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. Did you have a good time with Logan?” You nod, feeling your face heat up, and you quickly hide it into Ari’s neck, holding onto him tightly. His hands rub up and down your back, cradling you lovingly. “I’m glad, baby. C’mon, let’s go home so you can rest.” He stands and looks at Logan, giving him a nod before turning and walking back into the portal.

This won’t be the last time a massive man will use you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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starythewriter · 8 months

Text

Riding the feral wolverine

Warnings: rough sex, oral. Minors DNI protect you and me.

wolverine, looked at your beautiful whit dress with white pearl shiny earrings. he got horny and feral. you could feel the instanity with his gaze. you walked closer making eye contact while drinking red wine, he groaned knowing that you were seducing him. you walked to his back giving him a massage, he then grabbed you away from the public party you were at, and started to kiss you and make out with you in the bathroom. slowly he kissed your neck. you moaned in pleasure."baby please don't stop"wolverine growled kissing your neck again "I have an idea for how we can get more intimate."

you yelled out."yes baby?"he asked in between strokes."please fuck me!"you pleaded wanting him inside of you."of course baby" he replied smiling. he removed his hand from inside you but replaced it with a condom.wolverine slipped the condom on and positioned himself above you.wolverine thrust in hard making you moan loudly. he was touching your pussy causing you to come."ow ow ow"you whined.wolverine continued to thrust in hard hitting your sensitive spot.

wolverine started pounding your pussy harder and faster, after ten minutes your body was shaking from the pleasure. wolverine then started sucking you nipples. you squirmed and whimpered from the stimulation. you didn't know how long you were moaning and whimpering. then wolverine suddenly stopped pumping. he pulled out and removed the condom, he threw it towards the trash bin near the sink.wolverine then climbed over you wrapping his arms around your waist, your body was still quivering.he pulled the condom out of your ass "now i'll be able to fuck you whenever i want"wolverine smirked. you blushed and giggled.wolverine then started kissing you passionately. you wrapped your legs around his waist and started grinding your hips against his.wolverine moaned in pleasure. you both were getting close to climaxing.wolverine was about to cum but held himself back and started licking your juices. he swallowed most of your juices. you moaned from the sensation of wolverine eating you, his tongue made you wet, and your head spun from the sensations.

"baby... i- i'm gonna cum now" wolverine moaned with lust. your face contorted in pleasure. you moaned, feeling extremely good."baby i love you"wolverine whispered kissing your neck, you were feeling drowsy from the arousal. wolverine then started to thrust in and out making you gasp from the feeling. you started moaning louder from the intense pleasure. "wolverine im coming!!!!" you screamed.wolverine stopped thrusting, panting, and you were breathing heavily too.wolverine removed the condom and tossed it aside then rolled you over on top of you. he entered you making you gasp, his hot manhood filled you up. you gripped his back with pleasure.wolverine began to pound you aggressively in and out, making you scream from the stimulation, you wanted him to take you deeper, but he held himself back not letting go. after a couple more thrusts and strokes, he finally released himself releasing his semen on the inside of you. you both fell asleep to the wonderful sight of the moon.

#send in concepts #smutty #smut #wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #wolverine x you #wolverine xmen #wolverine x reader

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periprose · 6 months

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Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

#logan x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett angst #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine #old man logan #wolverine angst #james logan howlett x reader #marvel x reader #xmen x reader #x men x reader #x-men #x-men x reader #x-men angst #ask #requests

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inkdrinkerworld · 9 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.”

#logan howlett #loganhowlett #logan howlett x black!reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x yn #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett one shot #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett blurb #logan howlett fluff #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fluff #wolverine one shot #wolverine🤭#wolverine imagine

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imaginesforfandom · 3 months

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A Wolverine's Heartache - Part I

Part II Part III

Requested by Anon!!!

Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

She/Her pronouns used

Summary: On two separate occasions, both Y/N and Logan find jealousy within their friendship.

Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of unease that crept up whenever she saw Logan and Jean together. Jean Grey, with her fiery red hair and telepathic abilities, had a magnetic presence that drew people in – including Logan. Y/N had always considered Logan a close friend, but the way he and Jean interacted left her grappling with an unfamiliar emotion: jealousy.

One day, the three of them found themselves in the mansion's kitchen, preparing a meal together. As they chopped vegetables and exchanged banter, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way Logan's eyes lingered on Jean. The easy camaraderie between them felt like a barrier, and Y/N struggled to find her place in their dynamic.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Jean asked, breaking into Y/N's thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sounds good," Y/N replied, forcing a smile. She busied herself with the task at hand, trying to push away the irrational feeling of jealousy that clawed at her insides.

Logan noticed her distant expression and furrowed his brow. "Somethin' on your mind, kid?"

Y/N hesitated, then decided to be honest. "It's just… I sometimes feel like I'm the third wheel when you two are together."

Logan glanced at Jean, then back at Y/N, a hint of realization in his eyes. "We're just friends, Y/N. You know that, right?"

Y/N nodded, but the knot of jealousy persisted. It wasn't about doubting their friendship; it was about grappling with a longing she couldn't quite put into words. As days passed, the tension lingered, and Y/N found herself withdrawing, avoiding situations where she might witness Logan and Jean's closeness.

One evening, Y/N sat alone in the garden, contemplating her feelings. Storm, sensing her distress, approached and took a seat beside her. "You seem troubled, Y/N. Care to share?"

Y/N sighed, looking up at the stars. "I don't know, Storm. It's just… Logan and Jean, they have this connection. I can't help feeling like I'm on the outside."

Storm placed a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Sometimes, we create our own barriers. Have you talked to Logan about how you feel?"

Y/N shook her head. "I don't want to cause any problems. They're happy together, and I'm just the friend."

Storm smiled gently. "Communication is the key. You may be surprised at what you find."

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

Logan clenched his jaw as he watched Y/N and Hank engage in a lively conversation across the lab. The two shared a camaraderie that went beyond mere friendship, and it left a bitter taste in Logan's mouth. He had never been one to easily admit his feelings, especially when it came to matters of the heart, but the sight of Y/N and Hank together stirred a deep-seated jealousy within him.

It wasn't that Logan doubted Y/N's friendship or loyalty. Hank was a brilliant scientist, and they often found common ground in their discussions about mutations and experiments. Yet, there was an intimacy in the way Y/N laughed at Hank's jokes and the ease with which they collaborated on various projects that struck a nerve with Logan.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Xavier Institute, Logan found himself nursing a drink at the mansion's makeshift bar. Y/N and Hank were engrossed in a lively debate in the corner, their laughter rising above the low hum of conversations.

Storm, sensing Logan's unease, joined him at the bar. "Something on your mind, Logan?" she asked, her keen eyes noting the tension in his posture.

Logan grunted, taking a swig of his drink. "Just ain't sittin' right with me, that's all."

Storm followed his gaze to where Y/N and Hank were still deep in conversation. "Y/N values her connections with all of us. Hank is a friend, nothing more."

Logan's gaze hardened, his knuckles white around the glass. "I know that, Storm. It's just…damn it, I can't help feelin' like I'm playin' second fiddle to that furball."

Storm raised an eyebrow, her expression softening. "Jealousy, Logan?"

He scoffed, avoiding eye contact. "Ain't my style."

But Storm saw through the facade. "Maybe it's time to talk to Y/N. Let her know how you feel. Communication can clear the air, my friend."

Logan grunted again, mulling over Storm's words. As the night wore on, the tension between him and Hank remained unspoken, simmering beneath the surface. Little did Logan know that the impending tragedy on the horizon would soon force him to confront his feelings, revealing the depth of his emotions in a way he had never anticipated.

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

second part should be out tomorrow!! thank you again to the Anon that requested this 😊 i hope you don't mind that i'm including both of the requests into one fic!

#logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #james howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #james howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x y/n #james howlett x y/n #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett oneshot #james howlett oneshot #wolverine oneshot #logan howlett imagine #james howlett imagine #wolverine imagine

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

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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

“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.

“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.

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.

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.

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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