#mutant!f!reader

[a-leg-without-fear]

Flooded Red (pt.1)🩸🌧️

some lore for the reader character!! this takes place during the raid on the mansion in X2: X-Men United. please enjoy some Gore and some BAMF reader :)

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 4.7k

Warnings: gore, violence, Carrie-levels of blood, mentions of child abuse/abandonment, child endangerment, mentions of experimentation, depressive thoughts, drugging, choking, mentions of serious illness

Series: Flooded Red

You were no stranger to nightmares. Whether they were your own, making you toss and turn and wake up feeling exhausted, or Logan’s, leaving him shaking and panting. Yours were more infrequent than his. Every other night or so, your dreams were edged with that toxic darkness compared to his nightly torment. Anxiety-fuelled imagery that made your heart pump and your skin sweaty.

Tonight, it seemed, was your turn on the nightmare-express. Flashes of your life before joining Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters pierced your mind like a hot poker. Your father dying of polio, your mother abandoning you when your mutation showed itself, you begging for food on the side of the road for twenty years. 

In particular, one evening in the ‘50s decided to plague you. 

You, a 54-year old who appeared to still be twelve, were hunkered down in the abandoned building you called home. It was raining, humid summer air leaking in through the boarded up windows. Mildew spots covered the aged wallpaper. A distinct, old-house smell permeated the aged floorboards. 

You sat on your collection of moth-eaten blankets. An array of warm reds and cool blues created a cushy, makeshift bed that you spent your nights in. Pale orange filtered in from the streetlamps outside the abandoned house. You had tried your best to block out light by sticking newspapers to what windows weren’t covered by pine boards.

A group of men stood in front of you. Varying heights and weights. One had darker skin and cropped black hair, another had a neck tattoo and a cleft lip. Those two stood at the front of the pack of five. All wearing dark clothes and brandishing various household items as weapons. Steel pipes, wrenches, tire irons.

“You guys really don’t want to do this,” you squeaked out. You silently cursed your prepubescent voice. The man with the tattoo scoffed, squinted eyes peering around where you sat.

“And what��re you gonna do, pipsqueak?” he sneered. He smacked his palm with the pipe in his hands. The others moved to form a line next to him, blocking you from any exits.

“You’re not gonna like it,” you muttered under your breath. The man on the far right, blonde-haired and green-eyed, chuckled at you.

“You are the least threatening girl I-”

His words were cut short, breath caught in his throat. Your head was tilted as you focused. Dark eyes flooded red, blood overtaking the white, as your left arm raised toward the group.

Rough gurgles echoed from each man’s chest. Eyes wide with fear, skin flushing, lungs filled with liquid. Your lips spread into a knowing grin.

With one flick of your fingers, you made the men’s blood reach its boiling point. Explosions of crimson ichor burst from the five men. Skin split and flowered around large wounds. Bones cracked, limbs twitching and flailing.

One by one, each man fell to the ground. Bodies turned to sacks of flesh and organs. Blood seeped from the empty carcasses into the wooden floorboards.

Your smile remained stretched across your face. You hadn’t moved from your pile of blankets. Left arm covered to the elbow in blood, rest of your body clean, eyes returning to their normal ruby shade.

A piercing, world-shattering scream broke you from the shackles of your nightmare. You darted up, chest heaving, hands covering your ears to shield yourself from the noise. Glancing briefly at your own body, you were met with your adult self. Your wide eyes looked up and darted around your room.

The left side of your bed was empty. Sheets bunched up by your knees, pillow ruffled. Results of Logan sharing your bed. Yet the grouch was nowhere to be seen. You looked up to the door hoping to see him standing there.

Instead, your eyes landed on three heavily armed men. Covered in kevlar, bullet-proof vests, thick helmets. Each one having several guns attached at various points on their bodies. They were hunched over, hands over their ears, occasional grunts coming from beneath black, cloth masks.

Ignoring the scream that jabbed your eardrums when you lowered your hands, you scrambled out of bed. Your socked feet slid slightly on the hardwood floors as you dashed to the doorway. 

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the screaming stopped. You shook your head and blinked a few times. You took the chance you saw before you while the armed men reoriented.

A sharp jab to the front man’s jaw, his head ricocheting back, and a swift kick to his stomach sent him careening back between the other two. You couldn’t stop to check if he was out yet. You swiveled on your backfoot to the man on the right. Grabbing the sides of his helmet, you yanked his head down and connected his eye socket with your knee. You punched him in the temple for good measure as he fell to the floor.

The last man raised his machine gun to your torso. You paused briefly, eyeing the man up and down, then dropped to your knees as gunshots ringed over your head. You lunged forward at the man’s legs and knocked him to the ground. A strong kick to the face and he was out.

Breathing heavily, you clambered to your feet. Your gaze landed on the wooden door behind you. You expected to see bullet holes and splintered shrapnel. Instead, three small, white darts were embedded in the wood grain. You plucked one from the door to inspect it.

Right when the dart was lifted to your face, thick arms wrapped around your neck. Kevlar vest met your t-shirt clad back as the man who you’d failed to check choked you. Your breath came out ragged and strained. You tried to stomp back on the man’s feet, but he just stepped out of the way. Your vision was growing blurry around the edges.

“Stupid fucking mutant,” the man huffed in your ear, every word laced with malice and hate.

In a last ditch attempt, you took the dart still clutched in your fingers and stabbed it into the man’s arm. A string of pained curses left the man’s mouth as he released you. You stumbled forward, chest heaving to recover lost air, as you pivoted to face your attacker.

The man blindly grabbed at the dart in his forearm. He stumbled back, body connecting with the wall behind him, then started sinking to the floor. His head lolled to the side.

Huh, tranquilizers, you thought.

You hardly had time to assess your situation as you heard scuffling down the hall. Dozens of thick boots stepping quietly across the hardwood floor. When you listened closer, you heard the clatter of guns in gloved hands.

An involuntary growl left your chest. These men were here for the kids. Your kids. The kids you’ve helped teach and care for and raise. Flashes of fiery anger licked up your chest. You knelt and tore one of the machine guns filled with darts away from the unconscious men.

You kept low to the ground as you peered out of your bedroom doorway. A larger group of kevlar-clad men, about eight strong, were walking away from your room and toward the edge of the mansion. You nestled the stock in your shoulder and aimed at the group.

Muffled, quick shots echoed from the rifle as you shot at the men, each bundle of three darts connecting with a limb. Helmets clattered on the floor as the men collapsed. They had no time to register where the shots were coming from before they laid in an unconscious heap on the floor.

You threw the empty gun to the floor as you stood. You hated guns. Hated what they represented, the violence they caused, the people who wielded them. It was a very rare circumstance that placed a gun in your hands.

A chorus of children’s screams came from the hallway behind you. Terrified, heart-wrenching, utterly fearful. Pure, unbridled rage tugged at your chest. You could feel red coat the edges of your eyes. Blood seeping into the whites to make you look like some kind of demon.

You turned and walked briskly down the hall. Hands clenched in fists at your sides, pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin, eyes clouded in a flaming scarlet.

When you approached the next group of men, this group being six strong and standing outside Ryan and Addie’s room, your mind seemed to click off. All you could see was red, all you could hear was your own pulse in your ears, all you could taste was fresh blood coating your tongue. 

Your body wasn’t your own. Fingers twisted and manipulated the pumping blood beneath the men’s skin. Bubbling and boiling the flowing ichor until each man froze where they stood. Twitching and shaking, eyes crying scarlet and mouths leaking red. Another flick of your fingers and they exploded into clouds of steamed blood. Crimson coated your entire body, leaving you drenched in the men’s remains.

Six men. Turned into empty skins and abandoned organs. Blood seeping into the hardwood floor. Dead.

Your vision came back to you. Gasping breaths left your throat in short bursts. Warm liquid beaded on the sides of your face and dripped down your skin. Your clothes were utterly drenched, your hair plastered to your scalp, feet submerged in a puddle of red.

It had been so long since you’d lashed out like that. Mind going blank and fingers acting of their own accord. Since that night in the abandoned house, you’d kept your wits about you. Always resorting to hand-to-hand or to weapons if the need presented itself. You never used your mutation if you could help it.

You felt ashamed. These six men were just doing as they were told. They were only following orders. No one, not even the worst humans, deserved to die like that.

Before the panic could grip you in a chokehold, another group of booted footsteps came from down the hall. A small voice echoed in the back of your mind. The kids. Protect the kids. Whatever it takes. How could you refuse, when the children were your life? Your reason for being?

You splashed through the puddles of blood as you moved down the hall. Eyes flooded red, fingers twitching at your sides, anger gripping your chest in a vice. You weren’t yourself anymore. You weren’t the art teacher the children loved, the friend that the X-Men laughed with, or the lover Logan had grown to know.

All you were was a burning, churning whirlpool of fiery hate. Flames licked at your lungs, filling each breath with fire. Swirling images of corpses at your feet filled your stomach to the brim.

“There’s another one! Wait… holy shit!” yelled out from in front of you. You cocked your head as you observed this new group of men.

Ten strong, all clad in kevlar and vests, all pointing their rifles loaded with tranquilizer darts at you. You could see a shake in their hands as they took in the sight of you. Eyes flooded red, blood seeping through your hair and into your clothes, feet tracking crimson in their wake. If there was a physical embodiment of Carrie, you fit the bill.

“D-Don’t move!” called the trembling voice again. Guns clicked in gloved hands as the safeties were switched off. You could see every hand had a finger resting on a trigger.

Your right hand twitched, fingers curling, as a manic grin overtook your stoney expression. These men, these infiltrators, were giving you commands? Were demanding you stand down as they took your children away? These puny, insignificant men were instructing someone with the power to kill them in a single motion? The thought made you laugh under your breath.

“Or what?” you said back. Red dots centered on your chest as every man aimed at you. Another chuckle flitted through your lips, “Good luck with that.”

Dozens of gunshots ringed out through the hallway as dart after dart embedded in your chest. Clusters of white needles protruded from your blood stained shirt. You glanced down at the intrusions to your bloodstream. A tired edge overtook your mind as the tranquilizers pumped their chemicals into you. 

You gripped the darts and ripped them from your chest. A cacophony of clatters bounced back to the men as the darts fell to the floor. You shook your head to rid yourself of the chemicals threatening to knock you out. 

“Wanna try that again?” you asked, every word dripping in sarcastic confidence. 

Before the men could reload and obey your request, you raised your left hand to the group. Your senses focused on the blood pumping through their scared little hearts. Cortisol coursed through each man’s veins. Pathetic.

A twitch of your fingers made their hearts careen to a stop. Blood froze in their veins, oxygen being deprived from their lungs, eyes widening and limp hands clutching at their throats. It only took a few moments for them to collapse to the floor.

You breathed a humorless laugh at the mess of corpses in front of you. Who did they think they were, to challenge you like that? Especially after they saw that their darts didn’t work. You tilted your head side to side as you stretched out your neck.

“Vampire?” a small voice said from behind you. You turned to the source, fingers twitching in preparation. Whoever this new threat was, you’d deal with it quickly.

Regret filled your stomach like a lead ball when your eyes landed on Addie and Ryan. They stood, hand in shaking hand, feet soaking in the puddles of blood, wide eyes looking up at you. Your breath left your lungs in one sharp gust.

“Are you okay?” Addie asked, being the one who’d said your nickname before. She tucked a strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. You sank to your knees before the siblings.

“I… Yeah, I’m okay,” you sighed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clearing your head of the hatred it was filled with. When you opened them again, Ryan stood before you. His blue eyes looked you over with a deep concern crinkling in the corners.

“You sure? You’re pretty bloody,” he said. You wiped at the blood covering your face. It was no use, your hands being equally drenched.

“Is it your blood?” Addie questioned from behind her brother. You shook your head.

“No. No, it’s not. Are you guys okay?” you asked, desperate to shift the attention from yourself. Both children nodded. You gave them both a once over. Their hair was ruffled from sleep, hems of their pajamas and white socks soaked in the blood covering the floor, wide eyes looking to you for reassurance. You cleared your throat, “Did those guys hit you with anything?”

Both siblings shook their heads. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Alright. Let’s get you to the passageway on this floor. Ryan, You’ll be right behind me. Protect your sister,” you instructed. The kids nodded their heads again. You stood before them, giving yourself a look up and down. 

You looked horrifying. Once white t-shirt and green shorts were drenched in thick blood. Your hair clung to the sides of your head. Rivulets of crimson leaked down your bare legs and arms. 

Yet, when your gaze met the kids’, they looked at you with nothing but adoration. How could they look up to someone as terrifying as you? Someone who just killed sixteen fucking people? What would that teach them?

You squared your shoulders, pushing your insecurities down as far as they could go, and started leading the kids back down the hall. Your knees were bent as you kept low to the floor. You would pause every few moments to listen to the mansion around you. More gunshots from the floor below you, screams of terrified children, grunts and yells from the men in kevlar. You kept your mind from wandering to that rage and continued to lead Addie and Ryan to safety.

Relief flooded your lungs when you saw a group of children, led by Piotr, standing by this floor’s escape passageway. You straightened your posture. Addie and Ryan ran ahead of you to reconnect with their classmates.

“How many do you have?” you called over the swarm of scared children. Piotr, an older student whose skin could turn to metal, looked up at you from directing kids through the narrow doorway. His eyes widened at the state of you.

“Uh… Twelve, I think,” he replied. He ushered Addie and Ryan through the door, then turned to you, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth. Your shoulders seized when you heard heavy boots across the hall from you. Piotr looked over his shoulder, having also heard the approach.

Logan turned the corner. White tank top bunched around his midriff, jeans torn around his thighs, dark hair mussed from its two points. He held a knocked-out Jones, a young brunet who could manipulate electrical frequencies, in his arms. His hazel eyes glanced at you then fixed on Piotr.

“Hey, take him. He’s stunned,” Logan said, handing Jones over to Piotr. The larger boy held Jones tight against his chest. 

Just as Logan was turning to you, Piotr called out, “I can help you!” Logan looked back at Piotr. He pointed down the passageway, then said, “Help them.”

Piotr nodded at Logan, ducking into the doorway and sealing the passageway behind him. Logan suddenly grabbed your shoulders in both of his hands. You met his frantic eyes, narrowed lids shadowed by his furrowed brow.

“What the hell happened to you? Why are you covered in blood?” he asked. 

“I’m fine, Lo. It’s not my blood,” you said, shrugging his hands off your shoulders. His indignant reply was cut off when you both heard movement around the corner. 

Logan shoved you behind him as you both approached the corner. He pushed on your shoulder so you could squat next to him. His sturdy arm held you against the wall at your backs.

“Stay here,” he breathed into your ear. You nodded once in acknowledgement. Logan nodded back, then turned his attention back to the approaching group. 

You focused on lifting the blood from your shirt. Beads of crimson drifted away from your body and floated in the air before you. Your fingers twitched and the beads crashed into each other. Blood cell on top of blood cell, stacking together and forming a sharp lance the length of your forearm. One last flick of your wrist and the iron in the blood hardened the lance. A solid, red, metal weapon fell out of the air and into your open palm. At least you were significantly less bloody now.

Logan watched you out of the corners of his eyes. An air of admiration crossed his face. 

The brief moment was interrupted as a combat boot landed by Logan’s knees. Logan’s chest rumbled a deep growl, his claws shinking out of his knuckles, as he lunged forward and stabbed his right claws through the toe of the boot. A pained cry fell from the kevlar wearing man. Logan leapt to his feet as he plunged his left hand into the man’s stomach, shoving them both around the corner and out of your sight.

You remained crouched, back leaning against the wooden wall. Loud pops of gunfire echoed around you. Real guns, loaded with bullets instead of darts. Sharp cracks pierced the air as bullets flew in rapid succession toward Logan. A few bullet casings landed, smoking, by your feet. 

Light beamed from the dropped flashlight that rolled into view. Spurts of blood coated the tool in red jets. You spun the lance a few times in your hands, waiting.

“Clear,” Logan called. You pushed yourself upright and rounded the corner. About a dozen men, all clad in the same dark kevlar, lay dead at Logan’s feet. His chest was heaving, eyes darting to and from each man’s face, fists still clenched with claws poking out between his knuckles.

“All good, Lo?” you asked. His claws fully retracted as he met your gaze. He gave you a sharp nod then turned on his heel. You picked your way through the bodies, accidentally kicking a few limbs here and there, as you followed after him. 

“You never answered my question,” Logan said. You caught up with him and met his fast pace down the hallway. The two of you jogged while you tried to ignore his question. A few moments passed, the clipping of Logan’s boots on the floor being the only noise between you.

“I snapped,” was your quiet response. Short, simple, to the point. And it was all Logan needed. He threw you another quick nod while you two approached the balcony overlooking the mansion’s foyer.

Bright lights shone on Rogue, Bobby, and John as they stood below the balcony. All in their sleep clothes, all looking absolutely terrified. A guttural yell came from Logan as he leapt over the railing and dived into the four men aiming rifles at the older students.

You were about to follow when the back of your head was grabbed, a rough hand shoving your face into the railing and knocking your forehead on the wood. Spiked pain shot through your head, your knees crumpling beneath you. The hand tangled in your hair remained.

“Got the bloody one,” the man gripping you called behind him. You scratched at his hand as you tried to free yourself.

Slicing claws through flesh and pained yells soared over the balcony from the floor below. Your dazed mind tried to comprehend what was happening around you.

Some of the kevlar-clad men stood around you. Five, or was it seven, surrounded you with the muzzles of their guns aimed at your woozy form. Your head was utterly spinning. Nausea flooded your stomach and sent you reeling. If it weren’t for the gloved hand in your hair, you’d be sprawled out on the floor.

“Vampire!” Bobby called. You could just barely see his face through the bars of the railing. Wide, blue eyes glanced between you and the men surrounding you. He threw a hand up in your direction, “Duck!”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You yanked your head away from the man above you and dove to the floor. Just as your hands covered the back of your head, a biting chill filled the air above you. Wave after wave of flowing ice coursed over the balcony. You shivered from where you laid on the floor.

“C’mon!” John yelled up at you. You peered at the men who held you captive. All of them were coated in a thick layer of ice, skin turned pale and blue, joints frozen in place. Living ice sculptures. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the sway in your motion, as you prepared to vault over the railing. Just as you had swung your leg over the wood banister the front door burst open, streams of LED lights illuminating the four mutants below you.

Logan motioned for you to stay where you were, looking you up and down, then ushered Rogue, Bobby, and John further into the mansion. Dozens of men followed in their wake.

You, not being one to listen to instructions very often, crept along the banister until you reached the stairs. Lucky for you, your socked and soaked feet wouldn’t make much noise on the hardwood. You snuck down the stairs while listening to the kevlar-clad men flood through the front door. When you reached the bottom you paused. Squatted, lance clutched in both hands, waiting for the last of the men to pass.

Once you saw a break in the stream of soldiers, you dashed between shadows while trailing after Logan. Keeping out of sight, ducking beneath flashlight beams, sneaking around corners. 

“You want to shoot me? Shoot me!” you heard Logan yell down the hall from where you were. You picked up the pace. Soaked feet slapping against the wood floors, clubbing soldiers on the head as you passed with the blunt end of your lance to knock them out, racing to try and prevent Logan and the others from getting hurt.

“Don’t shoot him!” a male voice yelled. You slid around the last corner and found a cluster of kevlar-clad men. All with their rifles and flashlights pointed at Logan down the hall. You froze in place, breath held. One of the men stepped forward, a flashlight held aloft in his gunless hands. He moved to stand in the middle of the rest of the men, “Not yet.”

You slipped behind one of the giant vases scattered throughout this hallway. Tucking yourself into the long shadows thrown by the large piece of pottery, your head just barely poked out to watch the scene unfold.

“Wolverine? Well, I must admit, this is certainly the last place I’d expect to find you,” the unarmed man said. He took a few more steps forward. Logan watched his approach, confusion written in his knitted brows. The lone man chuckled, “How long has it been? 15 years? You haven’t changed one bit. Me, on the other hand…” the man trailed off. He stopped a few feet in front of Logan and gestured to his own face, “...nature.”

You didn’t like this. The man in front of Logan gave you a bad feeling. Like shocks of anxiety pricking over your hypersensitive skin. You gripped your lance tighter in your hands.

Logan’s claws retracted back between his knuckles. Narrowed, hazel eyes analyzed the man standing in front of him.

“I didn’t realize Xavier was taking in animals,” the man said with a laugh. He adjusted the glasses sitting on the bridge of his wide nose, “Even animals as unique as you.”

“Who are you?” Logan asked. His hands remained clenched at his sides.

The man laughed again, “Don’t you remember?”

Logan stared at the man, mouth agape. He took a few steps forward.

You’d had enough. This man, whoever he was, wasn’t going to talk Logan into… whatever it is this guy was trying to do.

You darted out from behind the vase, lance brandished in your hands. Your head cocked as you sent the weapon soaring through the air. One of the kevlar-wearing men to your right gasped as the lance speared through his back and exited from the center of his chest. You focused on the lance as it flew from one man to the next. Sailing through the air until it pierced the men’s abdomens and sent them careening to the floor.

Every gun pointed in your direction. Some men holding rifles containing darts, others aiming real guns straight at you. You paused mid-step.

Your gaze met Logan’s. Recognition flashed in his widened eyes. He took another step forward, this time toward you.

Ice crackled on the walls of the hallway. Large snowflakes linked together as they stretched the width of the hallway and formed a wall. The ice solidified, creating a transparent, blue blockade between you and Logan.

“No, no!” Logan yelled from his side of the wall. He pounded desperately on the ice.

The unarmed man turned to face you. He was older, hair graying and beard wiry. Black glasses framed his squinted, blue eyes. You shifted your weight between your feet.

“Hello, my dear. You must be the one called ‘Bleeder,’” he said. Your posture stiffened at the name. You felt your jaw clench.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time,” you replied. God, if it weren’t for the guns pointed at you, you’d have skewered this man ages ago.

“And yet it was your moniker all the same,” the man said. His boots clicked against the hardwood as he approached you. Thick coat covering his torso, gloved hands clutched behind his back. He stopped a few paces in front of you. His hooded eyes passed over your blood-covered form, “I believe I have use of you. Take her.”

The familiar pop of the dart-filled guns rang out as you were peppered with white needles. Dozens and dozens of pinpricks filled your chest. You gasped, falling to one knee. The edges of your mind began to cloud with a foggy haze.

“Vampire!” you distantly heard Logan yell. You felt the floor sway beneath your feet. Your hands planted on the hardwood when you fell forward.

“That’s it. Off to sleep, Bleeder,” the man said above you. You threw him one last hate-filled glare, then collapsed as the tranquilizers overtook your senses.

some looooooooooore for reader!!! hope y'all enjoyed. and what a cliffhanger, huh?

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[mrabubu]

mweheh

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Accident

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3,170ish

Summary: Logan seems to always be there to rescue you.

Warnings: injuries, car accident

Notes: I completely made this up the other day. I hope people enjoy it.

Your shoes felt like they were weighing you down with each step you made up the staircase. Why the hell was your apartment on the fourth floor, and why the hell did you keep taking the closing shifts at the bar? Ready to pass out, you finally made it to your floor and slowly made your way down the hall. Your eyes glanced at your neighbor’s door as you walked past, hoping to hear the deep voice of your crush. It was silly since it was past midnight, but you had learned quickly upon moving in that your neighbors seemed not to care what hour they were yelling at.

When you reached your door, you leaned against it with a sigh. Digging through your purse sounded like a chore right now. Slowly, you slid down the door and sat on your mat. Your head fell back against the door with a soft thud, eyes closing.

You don’t know how long you were like that before the sound of heavy boots pulled you from your quiet bubble. Before you knew it, a rough hand was on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Y/N,” Logan's gruff voice echoed in your ears. “Y/N, sweetheart, wake up.”

“Mmm?” you hummed. Your head moved to face Logan as your eyes slowly opened. 

Logan was crouched down with worry etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You reached out to the sides, stretching.

“Really? You’re fast asleep at your doorstep. Did you lose your keys?”

“No, I was too tired after work. What time is it?”

“It��s 5:30 in the morning.”

You laughed. “Well, at least I got some sleep.”

“It’s not safe for you to be sleeping out in the hall, Y/N.”

The true concern in Logan's eyes caused you to stop laughing. “I know.”

"Next time, call Wade or I. We can open the door for ya.”

“Thanks.”

He gave a little grunt before taking your hand and helping you to stand up straight. Your heart rapidly beat as you realized how close you were standing to Logan. His hand kept a strong hold on yours as the two of you stared at each other. 

Logan soon cleared his throat and pulled his hand from yours. “I, uh, I gotta go to work,” he said. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah," you nodded. “Thanks for waking me.”

“Anytime.”

Logan watched as you dug your keys out of your purse and unlocked your door. You turned to face him with a soft smile that threatened to melt his hardened shell. 

“Thanks again, Logan,” you said. “See you around.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. "See ya.”

He watched as you slipped into your apartment and shut the door. He didn't move until he heard the door lock behind you. Logan stuffed his hands in his leather jacket and turned around to head to work. His mind was on you the entire way there. Ever since Wade had introduced you to him, Logan knew that there was something different about you. You were sweet and kind even when Logan was guarded and often blew you off. But you didn't care. The more interactions with you he had, the more he wanted to get to know you. Though, he was careful about it. Logan was afraid to get too attached to you. Everyone he had ever cared about was dead; he wouldn't let you end up like them.

~~~

Another long day at work as you trudged up the stairs for the second day in a row. This time, you vowed to make it to your bed. As you reached the top of the stairs, you tripped, falling forward. Before you could land harshly on the ground, strong arms caught you.

“Whoa, there, sweetheart,” Logan’s rough voice soothed you as he lifted you up to your feet. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, catching your breath. “Thanks for catching me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of you stood there, staring at each other in growing silence. Your hands were on his shoulders while his hands were on your waist.

“Uh,” Logan cleared his throat as he pulled away and stepped back, “you coming home from work?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Another long shift. Where are you off to?”

“Just needed to get out for a moment. Wade is on one and Vanessa is with him.”

You giggled. “So I guess that means I will be needing my headphones tonight.”

“Sorry. I can try to get him to stop.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind… Do you, uh, need a place to go?”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Logan, you’re never a bother. I have an extra bedroom, bed made, and everything.”

“I don’t know—“

“It’s the least I can do after you saved me the last two nights.”

Logan knew that he shouldn’t. Getting close to you was a dangerous game, but you were looking at him with those eyes he couldn’t say no to. “Fine,” he sighed. Your smile made it all worth it.

“Great! Follow me.”

Logan trailed behind you and led him to your apartment. You opened the door, holding it open so that he could enter. He had been in your apartment a few times, and it never ceased to feel so homey. 

“The extra bedroom is the first door on your right with the bathroom just across from it,” you told him as you hung up your purse and jacket. You slipped off your shoes underneath it.

“Thanks,” Logan muttered, awkwardly standing there with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets as to not intrude on your space.

“Make yourself at home, Logan.” You waved around the living room as you headed to the kitchen. “Need a drink?”

“Uh, no, thanks.”

“You’re probably tired, long day a work, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, I won’t keep you. Feel free to head to bed. I’ll be out here winding down if you need anything.”

“You’re not going to bed?”

“I’m gonna watched an episode of a show then I will.”

“Oh… okay.” He watched as you grabbed a water bottle and headed over to the couch. “Night then.”

You looked over with a smile. “Night, Logan.” Then you turned your focus to your tv.

Logan lingered in his spot, watching as you pulled a blanket over you and got comfortable. He yearned to join you on the couch, to pull you into him and hold you close. But he couldn’t. It was too dangerous for you, even though he was living in another universe and didn’t have many enemies here. Logan could gain enemies easily and could even hurt you himself. He would just have to learn to love you from afar and just be okay with it.

~~~

A nightmare woke Logan up just a few hours later. He threw the covers off of his sweaty body and got out of bed. Logan didn’t even think twice about the fact that he was just in his underwear before he exited the room and headed to the kitchen. The sight of the tv still on had him freezing in place. You were still out there. He strained his ears to hear your steady breathing. Logan carefully snuck over to the couch as peered over. You were sound asleep. His eyes softened at he took you in. He didn’t think you could be prettier than you already were, but then there you were.

With quick but quiet movements, Logan grabbed a drink and then came back over to the couch. He crouched down in front of you and allowed himself to take advantage of being this close to you for a moment, just staring lovingly. He was so glad that you weren’t awake and that Wade was not around to tease him. Finally, Logan gently pushed his arms underneath you and pulled you into his bare chest. He carried you with ease to your bedroom and tucked you in. Logan couldn’t help himself when he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your head.

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” he whispered, giving you one last look before slipping out of the room.

~~~

Logan closed your apartment door quietly before he walked over and entered his own. He headed to his room to get ready for the day when a familiar voice stopped him.

“So… how’s Y/N?” Logan could practically hear Wade’s smirk.

“Fine,” Logan huffed. 

“Yeah? And how are you? Riddled with guilt that you did the deed and then walked out on her?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You didn’t deny it! You had sex!”

“Quiet! Her room is on the other side of the wall. And we did not.”

“Seriously?”

“She offered me a bed since you had Vanessa over.”

“How kind of her. Maybe next time, make a move and share a bed, okay? And do it before I lock you two in a room and force the one bed trope on you.”

“She doesn’t like me that way.”

Wade laughed. “You must be losing your eyesight, peanut. The only one that Y/N has eyes for is you, clearly.”

“Whatever.” Logan stomped back to his room.

“I’m just saying, you may wanna make a move sooner rather than later, Romeo.”

~~~

When you woke up in your bed, you were surprised. You stretched and got yourself up and out of your room. The guest room was open, with the bed made, gaining your concern. 

“Logan?” You called, heading into the living area. No response. “Logan?” 

You were alone in your apartment. You sighed, slightly disappointed that Logan didn’t say goodbye. You walked into the kitchen and spotted a note on the counter.

Didn’t want to wake you. Had to go to work. Thanks for the bed. ~ L.H.

You smiled at the note, grateful that he even thought to leave it. It was your day off, so you got to work on getting your apartment cleaned and a list of errands that needed to be done.

By early afternoon you had ran most of your errands and were driving home. Your phone buzzed in your cupholder and you quietly pressed the button to answer it.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Y/N, it’s uh, me, Logan,” his nervous voice filled the car.

You giggled. “Hi, Logan. Do you need something? I’m almost home.”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. I got off work early and was thinking that maybe you’d want to get some, uh, food with me?” You bit your lip as Logan spoke, melting at his nervousness. “Of course, if you don’t want to—“

“No! No! I’d love to.”

“Okay. I can meet you downstairs, help you bring things up, and then we can go.”

“Sounds great. See you in a minute.”

“See ya in a minute.”

You couldn’t stop the large smile that grew over your face as Logan hung up the phone. Your fingers anxiously tapped at the steering wheel as you waiting for the light to turn green. As soon as it did, you starting across the intersection. You didn’t make it across before a car rammed into your side.

~~~

Logan’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket. He was bouncing on his heels as he looked around for your car. He caught sight of it at the nearest stoplight and kept his eyes glued to it. He saw the incoming car before you did.

“Y/N!” Shouted from his lips as his body propelled forward.

The crashing sound echoed around the area as everything came to a halt the moment the car collided with yours. Logan was at the scene in record time. He paid no mind to the driver in the other car as he rushed to where the cars met, at the driver’s door. 

You were slumped in the seat, cut up and bloody. Logan could hear your breathing, a slight wheeze behind it. Witnesses gathered around, calling 911 and seeing if they could help, but Logan’s sole focus was you and only you. He used his strength to push the cars apart so that he could get to you. He opened your car door and was quick to grab you before you could be jostled too much.

“Sweetheart, it’s me,” he said, trying to remain calm. “I’m here, I got you.”

With a snikt, Logan’s claws appeared from one of his knuckles. He used it to carefully cut you free from the seatbelt and the airbag. With great care, Logan pulled you out of the car and laid you on the street.

“Y/N, sweetheart, wake up,” he pleaded. 

You were stilling bleeding in various places and there was no sign of you waking. The sirens grew closer but not before Wade did.

“Holy shit! Peanut!” Wade was dressed in his Deadpool suit, ready for action. “What the hell happened here? You distract her with your good looks?”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilson!” Logan snapped. “That car ran through a red like and rammed into her.” His focus returned to you, immediately softening. “You gotta wake up, sweetheart. Listen to my voice and wake up.”

EMTs rushed over with a stretcher and their other equipment.

“Sir,” one of them called, “we need you to move so that we can check her out.”

Logan bit down the desire to fight back, brushing his hand over your cheek before pulling away. He watched with an intense stare at every move the EMTs made. The EMTs didn’t bother to fight him as he climbed into the ambulance with them, headed for the hospital. Though, once there, he was forced into the waiting room where he continued to pace, unable to sit still.

~~~

“Mr. Howlett?” A nurse called, hours after they had brought you in.

“Yes,” Logan’s long legs made quick work of cutting the distance between him and the nurse.

“Miss Y/N is back in a room now. She had a broken arm, a concussion, a few broken ribs, and some stitches. Nothing she can’t heal from. She got extremely lucky.”

Logan felt little relief since you were still injured and he had yet to see you with his own eyes. He followed the nurse back to your room and gave her a grateful nod before pulling a chair to your bedside and taking a seat. His hands were trembling slightly as he reached for your hand and cupped it between his rough ones. Logan waited there silently for hours until you woke up with a cough. He was quick to pour you some water and bring the cup to your lips. He helped you take a drink before he sat back down.

“Lo—Logan?” You rasped.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his lips lifted slightly, though you could see the great concern still etched on his face. 

“You’re here…”

“Of course, I’m here. No place I’d rather be… You scared me real bad back there, sweetheart. I thought I was gonna lose you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Just glad you’re okay.”

~~~

Logan didn’t leave your side, even once your were discharged. Your guest room became his room and he made sure that you were taken care of.

“I’m fine, Logan,” you tried to wave him off with your good hand. “Go to work. You haven’t been in a few days. I’ll be fine.”

“But you—“

“I won’t leave the house without you or Wade. I’ll call if I need anything. Go.”

Logan sighed. “Fine. But I have my phone on.”

~~~

Your apartment was driving you crazy. You needed to get out. You knew that Wade wasn’t home due to how quiet it was next door and you weren’t about to call Logan just because of your boredom. You decided that you could handle getting the mail by yourself. Making sure that your phone was on you, you left your apartment and headed for the stairs. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t see that Wade had left one of his stuffed animal snakes near the stairs, causing you to trip over it. You landed with a loud thud at the top of the stairs, hitting your head against the wall. You cried out as tears gathered in your eyes. With trembling hands, you had your phone call Logan.

“Sweetheart?” The concern in his voice made you wince. “You alright?”

“Logan,” you whimpered.

“What is it? What happened?”

“I’m sorry. I should have stayed inside. I got bored and I fell—“

“I’m on my way. Stay on the line. What hurts, sweetheart? Keep talking to me.”

“My… my head… my arm… my side…”

“Shit,” he muttered. “Can you get back into the apartment?”

You thought for a painful second. “…No.”

“That’s okay. I’m almost there. Just stay with me, sweetheart. Stay awake.”

“”m… tryin’…” Your head was getting fuzzy and it was hard to keep your eyes open. “…all…fuzzy…”

You heard loud footsteps rushing up the stairs before you finally blacked out.

~~~

When you came back to, you were tucked into your own bed. The lights were all off and Logan was sitting beside you on the bed. His head had fallen back and his mouth was open slightly, he was asleep. You needed to sit up but you were afraid of waking him. You tried to push yourself up with one arm but let a whine slip from your lips. Logan jumped awake, eyes wide and frantic as he stared down at you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry,” you whispered. “I just needed to move. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What do you need? I can help.”

“You don’t have to. You’ve already done too much.”

“I want to.”

You stared at Logan, seeing that he meant it with how his eyes were looking at you. “Why?”

Logan sighed, running a hand down his face. “This is not how I wanted this to go. I was supposed to take you out, maybe a few times, then tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How much I care about you. How seeing you bloodied and bruised had me scared out of my mind… I can’t live without you, sweetheart. You are the greatest part of my day… every day.”

“Logan,” tears welled up in your eyes, “I care about you too, very much.”

Logan’s lips lifted up in a smile that you had rarely ever seen. His hands came up to gently hold your face. “When you’re feeling better, I’d like to take you out.”

“I’d like that.”

“Woot woot!” Wade shouted from the other side of the wall. “About damn time.”

You winced at the loudness. Logan scowled at the wall as he pulled you into him like that would protect you from Wade’s voice.

“Knock it off, Wade,” he whisper shouted. “She’s concussed.”

“Oh, yeah!” Wade didn’t quiet down. “Sorry!”

Logan shook his head. “I’m gonna—“

“Don’t,” you stopped him from letting you go. “Leave him… I’m fine as long as you’re here.”

He held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Always, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

[sweaterrat]

Oh…!

Flirty Donnie for the soul 💛💜

@tmnt-ocxcanon-comp vote for lemlav in the polls!!!

Close ups under the cut!

[d-draws12]

👀

[buckyalpine]

Hi!!!! I love your work and talent, you are so amazing!💗 I was wondering if you could do a light angst fic. Like bucky is a player who is just running through women, and the avenger reader has a big crush on him . She has to watch him string girls through the tower all the time and it makes her sad. Bucky's type is dark,red lip, baddie but reader is the mom of the friend group and wears pink and is super sweet and a little awkward, she is also a mutant who has like earth powers. So whenever she's happy or laughing flowers will bloom in her hair. She's so cute. Kinda like the trope: she fell first but he fell harder. And like bucky realizes that he's madly in love with our sweet baby angel reader. And the FLUFF!! 💗💗💗

Thank you, love Binks 💖

Yes. Yesyesyes. I hope you're all ready cause I sat with this piece for weeks. Jealously, Misunderstandings, love sick Bucky, idiots in love, SO MUCH ANGST AND FLUFF . Protective best friend Steve and dash of smut cause I can't help myself, its so sweet and soft and I love these two, put myself in my feelings with their spicy and sweet loving.

-

"See you later Sargent" A gorgeous woman walked by the kitchen on her way out or the tower, winking over her shoulder and blowing a kiss to the soldier who smirked at her in response. Her lipstick hadn't budged even after a night of who knows what with Bucky, her perfectly curved hips swaying along with the click of her heels.

You were busy with making breakfast, dustings of flour covering your nose and cheeks, still in your baby pink pj's, looking the total opposite of the gorgeous girl Bucky spent the night with.

"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled after the she had left, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Where do you find em'-Ow!" Tony yelped when Nat gave his ear a flick, cocking her eyebrow up in amusement.

"I'll let Pepper know you're curious-

"Nope. No. I was just admiring Terminators taste" Tony threw his hands up, swiping a hot pancake from the stack you were plating making you giggle, tiny daisies blooming around your hair "These are delicious Petal. I'll never get tired of seeing that" Tony smiled, looking at the fresh little flowers that reflected your mood, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before returning to the lab.

"Sure, admiring taste" Nat snorted while Bucky snickered, taking a seat at the kitchen island; his fluffy hair still messy from bed. You set down a plate in front of him, adding butter and some fresh strawberries on the side just the way he liked.

"Here you go Sargent" You smiled softly before getting started on cutting up more fruit for Steve and Sam who would be returning from their run soon.

"These are amazing" Bucky hummed, reaching for more; he'd never get tired of your cooking. You tried to bite back a smile while vines of baby pink roses weaved their way through your hair, matching the fuzzy feeling the soldier made you feel. The flowers were not missed by Bucky who watched you continue to flit about the kitchen like a little garden fairy, making sure everyone would have something for breakfast. He couldn't help but chuckle at the way you crawled up onto the counters like a cat to reach the highest shelves, a few knotty tendrils sneaking their way through your hair indicating your frustrations when you nearly dropped a cup.

"Do you have different flowers for different moods?" Bucky continued to watch you while you slinked off the counter, starting on a smoothie.

"Sort of? Yeah I guess" You thought to yourself, noting you'd often have yellow ones when you'd laugh, or purple ones when you were excited. You only ever got pink ones around Bucky; the only person to make you feel warm and shy and soft. You were caught off guard the first time you saw the tiny pink buds in your hair the same day you met him when you joined the team. No one else seemed to notice, too busy admiring the fact that gorgeous petals decorated your hair.

Everyone except Bucky.

The soldier was trained to notice everything.

He'd seen every type of flower adorn your hair but these ones were just around him.

"What do the little pink roses mean you're feeling?" Bucky asked, cocking his head when you looked at him like a deer in headlights.

Shit.

"It-I-happy! It means I'm happy" You stuttered out unconvincingly while Bucky hummed, cleaning off his plate before heading down to the gym, taking one last glance over his shoulder before rounding the corner.

Those tiny pink roses suited you perfectly; the human embodiment of a little fairy.

Ever since you'd joined the team, they were blessed with a full breakfast almost every morning, sometimes even dinner. Outside of your role as an Avenger, you took on a nurturing role within the team and of course that was just who you were, being so in tune with nature and naturally caring for those around you. Still, it was evident you went above and beyond just instinct when it came to taking care of others; you were very much the mom of the group. Initially Bucky found it confusing, wondering why you were so nice to everyone, always checking on their needs and being prepared for just about anything. He was so used to functioning on his own, he found it jarring when you were looking out for him too; didn't you know who he was? Why were you being nice to him?

He didn't even have it in him to give you the cold shoulder like he did with everyone else. What kind of person would he be if he was rude to the sweetest person he'd ever met. You were just so precious and sweet and you always smelled like fresh flowers and sunshine, he would've basked under your light for hours on end if you let him-

Bucky shook his head, breaking away from the train of thoughts he was having about you yet again. You didn't make sense. More specifically, him thinking of you didn't make sense. He was rough, rugged, made of muscle and metal, didn't like most people and the last time he'd been nurturing was back when he'd nurse Steve back to health more than 70 years ago.

You on the other hand were literally made of flowers, combined with soft sweetness, shy smiles and giggles. You were cute. Too cute. He had no business thinking about you, ignoring the fluttery jitter in his heart as he tossed a wink to a SHIELD agent who was training at the weights. She had joined recently, typically taking on missions which required her to go under cover in skin tight dresses and bodysuits; it was perfect for her given her tall and toned build. The woman smirked in response, biting her dark red painted lip before making her way over to him by the punching bags.

"Hey Sarge" she purred, bringing her hand up to toy with his dogtags, tugging at them suggestively, "Busy tonight?"

"We're having a movie thing" Bucky shrugged, not suggesting they had to do anything else after but if that's where the night led then-

"Hmm, I'll see you later then" She batted her lashes at him before going back to her set.

This made sense.

Casual. Sexy. Flirty.

Everything Bucky was good at and comfortable with. No feelings, no attachments. No deep, undying love he felt for a certain sweet girl on his team that he'd give his life for.

This made perfect sense.

-

You were the last to make it down to movie night after spending most of the evening prepping drinks and snacks for others. Movie nights were rare and it was even more rare for everyone to be present. You made sure there was something for each member of the team, from sour candy to chocolate, chips, cookies, tiny sandwiches and an array of drinks you'd set up on the coffee table.

You stood at the edge of the living room dressed in your warm oversized sweater and mismatched fluffy socks, nervously peering around the room for an empty space; usually you'd curl up on the two seater sofa with a thick fuzzy blanket draped over you but-

Your heart sank seeing yet another beautiful girl cuddled up next to Bucky, taking up all the space on the couch. A part of you contemplated on going back to your room; the sinking feeling in your stomach worsened seeing the new agent adjust herself until she was pressed right against the soldier. Why did you have to fall for for the person who wouldn't look at you twice. You were dressed in clothes too big and soft, a stark contrast to the matching silk lounge set she was wearing, leaving no doubt over how absolutely perfect her body was.

"Hey Petal, c'mere" Steve noticed you looking for a spot, patting he seat beside him, shifting over so you could join. You smiled at the Captain, quietly shuffling through the room, hiding into the cushions as the movie started. Your heart dropped further each time you heard the girl Bucky was with giggle, slinking around his lap while he gave her his flirty smirk. There were occasional times where flowers wouldn't bloom in your hair and this was one of them.

Steve noticed your less than enthusiastic demeanor, catching you glancing over at the brunette super soldier and his friend for the night, internally rolling his eyes at what an idiot his best friend was. He threw his arm around you, pulling you in to snuggle with him, whispering his own commentary as the movie progressed, hoping to lighten your mood.

You giggled, a few yellow flowers blossoming in your hair making Steve grin. Bucky watched carefully, a new emotion flaring in his chest as he watched bright petals fall onto your lap each time you laughed. He didn't like the new feeling that started off as warm to blazing hot, what was it he was even feeling-

Irritation? Sure a bit.

Confusion? Most certainly but not quite.

Jealously.

That's what he was feeling. He wanted to be the one who caused gorgeous tendrils of flowers to bloom, the one to make you giggle and laugh, the one who got to snuggle up with you. He was envious over how lucky Steve was, getting to cuddle up with such a soft bunny, his jealously momentarily interrupted when he took a moment to look at what you were wearing.

You looked so comfy with your warm sweater, your feet nice and toasty with your favorite socks. Bucky remembered you talking to him about them once, reading socks you'd called them.

"They're super soft and warm!" you grinned, clutching them to your chest after a trip to a book store. "I've been wanting a pair for ages. I finally caved and got them, I can't wait to put them on"

Bucky remembered chuckling to himself over how excited you'd gotten over a pair of socks, a few buds of lavender poking through your hair from how relaxed and calm they made you feel.

You looked so soft to cuddle up with like a little bear he'd hold to his chest, one that would protect him and keep him warm and safe. He wished he had a spot beside him because you would've sat where you always do and it would be him with his arm around you instead of Steve. He didn't want anything else. He shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between himself and the agent, her close proximity suddenly feelings much to hot. She frowned, feeling him pull back, scooting over till she was cuddled up with him again.

Great.

"Did you want me to grab you something?" Steve asked you as he reached over for some chips, popping a few into his mouth. Before you could respond, you saw the woman whisper something in Bucky's ear, winking playfully before sitting up and taking his hand, the both of them leaving the movie half way. You felt like throwing up knowing he was taking her to his bedroom though you knew you had no right to be upset. He wasn't yours and he was welcome to do as he pleased though that didn't make the pain go away.

Bucky's POV

"How about it Sarge" She moved her hand up his thigh, giving it a squeeze, not bothering to wait for the movie to finish. Bucky stared at her like a deer in headlights while she cocked her head waiting for a response. Bucky glanced over to you, his heart breaking seeing your face fall. "Bucky? Are you listening to me?"

Bucky blinked realizing he was paying attention to you, mumbling an apology before turning to the agent. He didn't know who he was fooling but it was getting embarrassing, especially when he knew Steve was glaring at him from across the room. Neither of them had to open their mouths to understand the silent conversation they were having through their eyes alone.

"You're an idiot"

"Shut up"

"You know you like her"

"I-I don't..."

"Then why do you keep glaring at me like I stole your girl punk"

"Don't worry about it"

"You better figure it out before you hurt her more"

"She likes me?"

"You're an idiot"

"Jerk"

That did it. Bucky couldn't' last another second seeing your petals fall, the flowers Steve brought all retreating away and he couldn't sworn he saw you blink back tears. He couldn't keep doing this.

"Um, yeah sure" Bucky nodded, leading the woman away, walking past the elevators and towards the compound exist instead. As soon as he'd told the new agent he just couldn't do it he ran back to the living room in hopes of finding you only to find your spot empty.

You did your best to bite down on your trembling lip but it didn't work. As soon as the first whimper slipped out, Steve hugged you softly, telling you to to go to your room. You looked at him through wet lashes, his soft blue eyes filled with understanding. You rushed straight to your room, zooming right past Bucky's hoping you wouldn't have to hear anything, curling up into a ball in your bed where you wept under the covers.

Why did you fall for him?

Bucky looked over to Steve who nodded towards the elevators that took you to your floor, the super soldier wasting no time pressing the button to the 4th floor. He was at your door as soon as the elevator dinged open, softly knocking while his stomach continued to churn.

What would you think of him.

Why didn't he just accept his feelings the second he fell in love with those pretty little pink roses?

God you probably hated him now.

Bucky nervously chewed his lip,

"Petal?" Bucky called for you, hoping you'd open the door, his his heart hammering against his chest hearing soft sniffles from the other side of the door. "Petal, can you open the door sweets?"

He heard you continue to softly cry, his body working before his mind could catch up as he let himself into your room. He hated the sight of the little ball buried under a pile of blankets, hiding away from the world with a broken heart because of him. He made his way to your bed, sitting on the edge, petting the blanket gently to let you know he was there.

"Bucky?" You shuffled some of the blanket off, surprised to see him there, what was he doing in your room? Wasn't he spending the night with the girl he'd brought? Why did he look so distraught? You sat up with concern, looking him over to see if he was hurt because why was he here with you when he should be with her?

"Did-did you need something, is everything okay?" You tried to keep you voice steady, quickly wiping away your tears and forcing a smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

"No sweet girl, everything isn't okay" Bucky whispered, smiling at your confused pout, his hand coming up to brush some of the strands of hair that were near your forehead. He let his hand linger on your cheek, wiping away your wet cheeks with his thumb before sitting closer to you. "Why were you crying"

You averted your eyes as soon as he asked the question, staring at your lap instead, playing with your fingers. Your voice was caught in your throat, shrugging as if you didn't know the answer. Bucky was surprised with himself, equally shy to actually say anything even though he wanted to pour his heart out. With others the smooth talking, the flirting, the boyish smirks came easy.

Not with you.

Not with his little fairy.

"Y/n, please" He tilted your chin to meet his puppy like eyes, hoping you'd understand how he felt without saying anything. His innocent gaze caused your cheeks to heat up, feeling his rough calloused hands touching you so softly. You bit your lip as your hair betrayed you, pink petals starting to decorate your hair.

"What do the little pink roses mean?" He whispered with hope in his voice, his heart aching with need seeing your shy smile, "Please tell me pretty girl. I- I only see them when I'm around you"

"It-it means-" you hesitated, scared this would all come crashing and burning if you told him the truth. Maybe he was just being nice, pausing his date to check on you. Or maybe-Just maybe? "I like you"

Had he not had super hearing Bucky would've missed your near silent whisper. The blush on his cheeks matched the flowers in your hair as he reached out for you, pulling you to his chest.

"C'mere my precious little petal" Bucky cooed, scooping you in his arms. You squeaked in surprised before giggling into his chest, the sound making Bucky's heart swell. "There she is" He smiled against your hair seeing little buds blooming again, the tiny pink roses he loved so much sprouting to life.

"Don't you have a date" You asked hesitantly while Bucky shook his head, holding onto you tighter.

"You should've been my date petal, m'sorry for not telling you how I felt about you earlier. I was scared"

"Scared?" You cupped his scruffy cheek, letting your thumb stroke his beard while he nodded, leaning into your touch.

"Scared I wasn't right for you. It didn't feel right falling in love with someone so precious when you're the complete opposite of me" His confession caused stray tears to slip down your cheeks while Bucky kissed them away. "But I promise, if you'd let me have you, I'd take care of you and love you with my whole heart. I promise I'd never hurt you sweets, I've fallen so hard for you, there's no one else I'd rather be with"

You couldn't help yourself, pulling him down for a kiss, giggling at the surprised squeak he let out before groaning and melting into your sweetness.

"I'm yours Jamie"

Stop here if the fluff was enough. Cause next is their sweet love making.

I know it's not part of the ask but imagine their first night together where Bucky doesn't want to over step so he doesn't make a move. He notices you being more cuddly and shy, burrowing into him when you're in his room and that's when he sees gorgeous deep red roses blooming in your hair. He knows by now how to read your mood based on your flowers but he hadn't seen this before.

"Petal?"

"What is it Buck" You look at him with wide doe eyes, hoping he doesn't feel the the heat you feel radiating through your body. You need him. It's more than just physical; you need him as close as possible in the most intimate way because you adore him so much.

"Your hair sweet girl" He runs his fingers through your hair, stroking the velvety petals making you whine from sensitivity, immediately silencing yourself from embarrassment. "What do you need love, you can tell me"

"Need you closer" You whispered, nuzzling your face into his neck where you could breathe in his cologne and a scent that was distinctly him.

"Closer how baby, you're-" It takes a moment for the pieces to click for Bucky to figure out just how much closer you need him, moving his hands to your hips, rubbing them up and down. "oh. OH. Is that all baby? Need me extra close?"

You nodded with another whine while Bucky moved you to lay against his pillows before slowly undressing you until you were both bare with nothing separating you.

"Bucky please, just-just want you" On any other night, you'd allow him to tease and toy with your body but you needed him so badly, your body throbbing, feeling more empty than ever.

"Shhh, m'here baby, it's okay, breathe for me petal, okay?" He stroked your hair while rubbing his weeping tip through your folds gathering your slick before pressing his cockhead against your entrance, "m'right here"

You both gasped at the feeling of him pushing his length inside, his movements slow until he was buried to the hilt. Your pussy quivered trying to pull him in deeper, tears welling along your lash line as he started to move, hardly pulling out, keeping his cock deep inside you.

"Look at these pretty roses" Bucky whispered against your lips as he rocked his hips, his hands laced with yours while more flowers bloomed, your legs moving to wrap tightly around his waist.

"All-all just for you Bucky" You hiccupped with pleasure between moans feeling a different level of satisfaction with him inside you. You finally felt complete as he moved faster, clinging onto him so you'd feel his full body weight lay on you. "More-I-I need more"

You'd never felt like this before, your powers starting to manifest throughout the room as you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Dark green stems crawled up the bed posts as he fucked you harder, your gorgeous floral scent sending Bucky into over drive. He was the only one who'd make you feel like this, the only person to ever get to see those dark red petals strewn across his bed.

There was something so intimate knowing no one else would ever get to see you like this, no one else would smell how sweet you were when he drove you mad with pleasure.

All the dark red roses full of love and lust just for him.

"I'll give you more pretty girl" Bucky growled, his own high licking down his spine feeling your pussy tighten around him, begging for him to keep going.

"Don't-please don't stop" you begged, clawing at his back, "I-I'm gonna-"

"Cum baby, cum for me petal, give it to me" He pleaded right back, sweat beading at his forehead, his pace growing sloppy. Your back arched off the bed as he reached to rub your sensitive bud sending your nerves into over drive. "OH BUCKY"

As soon as he felt your pussy clamp around his cock as you cried out in pleasure Bucky moaned loudly, tucking his face into your neck as he spilled into you.

"Take it love, t-take it" He stuttered, trembling as the last of his orgasm dribbled into you. He watched in awe as the deep red petals that previously covered the room disappeared into thin hair, his classic favorite little pink roses decorating your hair once more. Bucky pulled the sheets over you both, holding you to his chest while kissing your forehead at you closed your eyes.

"Sleep tight, petal"

[cuntdestroyer3000]

Closer

Tried to keep mood board inclusive, not meant to describe reader, just vibes of the fic dividers by @vg-k

Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader

Summary: you’re a mutant with the ability to control blood, you use your powers to have some fun with Logan

Pure smut, minors dni!! established relationship, edging, Logan’s bratty and a masochist, sorta dom/sub dynamics (ur not the sub🤪), unprotected piv. No physical description of reader, no use of y/n. 1.4k words

Logan sat in the soft armchair, legs spread and head back, cigar smoke billowing from his mouth. His naked body was sweaty and spent. His chiseled chest rising and falling.

His cock was soft, resting on his sac and you eyed it with a smirk.

“I’m not done with you yet Logan.”

His eyes snapped up to where you laid on the bed, clad in a short satin nightgown, the back open to show off your bare ass.

“Don’t you ever get tired of torturing me?” He griped, but you could see the smile on his face, you could tell he wanted more, needed more.

“No.” You smiled sweetly and held up a hand, tracing imaginary lines over his body from where you sat, feeling the movement of his blood through his veins, the pumping arteries. He was so alive. You could feel his heartbeat get faster and faster as he anticipated what you were gonna do to him.

Logan breathed heavily as you began to manipulate his blood. He winced as he felt it begin to move by your hand but willed himself to sit still, his only giveaway his clenching fists.

Your smile was wicked as you moved a singular finger downwards, forcing his blood to travel right where you wanted it.

He huffed through his nose and his chest started to rise and fall more rapidly as his cock began to stiffen.

You keep moving his blood south, making him grow and harden. You loved seeing it happen, the way his cock got so big and hard; his proud length revealing itself with his arousal.

Logan let out a whimper as his cock hardened more and more. He fought to stay still in the chair and sucked in a shuddering breath before letting out a guttural, animalistic moan.

You pushed more blood into his manhood, just enough to make him painfully hard.

And sure enough, he gasped out a pathetic noise that sounded like a mix of pain and pleasure.

“Fuck!” He moaned and his hips jutted up instinctively, his cock bobbing back and forth with the movement.

You giggled as you watched him struggle. His head was thrown back again and he panted, the tip of his cock began to leak out precum.

“Aww Logan” you cooed mockingly, “Look at you.”

He glared at you, the look in his eyes a challenge.

You weren’t about to shrink away from it. You were all too familiar with Logan’s attitude, in fact it was one of your favorite things about him. With your powers, everyone was too scared to even look at you. But not him, he was always ready to push you, to test you. He’d never admit it but you knew he liked the power you held over him.

“What?” You purred, “You want more?”

“Fuck you.” He muttered and rolled his eyes.

Heat swirled within you. You knew what he was doing, why he was pushing you like this. You were all too familiar with the little game you two played.

“Is that really how you’re gonna talk to the woman who could explode your dick with a flick of her finger?”

He scoffed,

“Nah you wouldn’t bub. You like it too damn much.” He smirked and you couldn’t help but smile. He was such a smart ass. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You just shrugged and focused on his blood once again. This time making it pump in and out of his cock, making him throb achingly.

Logan cried out, once again clenching the arms of the chair. His cock began leaking more.

“You should still be careful with the way you talk to me.” You kept your focus on his cock.

“I-ah fuck!” He moaned, unable to come up with a cheeky response this time.

His hips rolled and he threw his head back in ecstasy; you admired the way his cock moved as he let noises shamelessly rip from his throat.

You picked things up just a bit.

“I didn’t say you could touch yourself.” You snapped as Logan reached for his cock desperately.

He swore and grabbed the chair again, his eyes pleading with you.

You just eyed him hungrily and he gasped as you intensified the throbbing of his cock. He let out a guttural roar as his claws shot out, his body trembling.

“Ah-fuck” he failed to hide the whimper in his voice and his hips bucked up again.

You could feel the throbbing of his cock and your pussy grew wet with the complete control you held over him.

His hairy chest heaved, glistening with sweat. His teeth were gritted as he dug his claws into the chair, wrecking the wood.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” You asked softly and he grunted through his teeth, his muscles flexing. You could tell that it did, judging by how he moaned for you, you knew how much he liked the pain.

“I asked you a question Logan.” You murmured, your voice like velvet. You felt his cock throb of its own volition at the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“Mmmm yeah.” He gasped out and groaned when his manhood pulsed once again, not from anything in particular you did, but at how it felt for him to submit to you.

“You wanna cum, don’t you baby?”

You stood up off the bed and slowly walked over to him. Stroking a gentle hand down his face as he grew more and more flushed.

“I’ll let you fuck me right now, Logan. All you have to do is answer my question.”

He unsuccessfully held back a whimper as he looked up at you; panting, his expression wrecked.

Growing impatient, you made his cock throb especially hard and he let out a strangled moan.

“Fuck! Yes.” He gasped finally, “Fuck…please…I wanna cum. I wanna fucking cum, please.”

You smirked and let up your hold on him finally, making him gasp and slump over, shuddering in relief. It didn’t matter though, his cock was still impossibly hard.

He looked up at you again and you had just a few seconds to register the animalistic lust in his eyes before he shot out of his seat and grabbed you. Turning you around, he bent you over the bed and thrust into you hard, making you cry out.

You let go of your powers completely, relaxing into the mattress as you let him take you. Moaning through the devious smile plastered across your face.

Logan’s hips never faltered as he drove himself into you over and over again.

He speared you on his length. His hips slamming into you unforgivingly as he chased the release he had been needing so badly.

The head of his cock pounded that spot deep inside of you over and over and you fell off the edge almost immediately; crying out for him as you held onto the sheets for dear life. You could hear him grunting and panting behind you has he held you in place, almost feral in the way he was railing you.

He put his hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face into the mattress and gripping your hip with the other, his claws grazed your skin and tangled in your hair.

“Oh my god.” He moaned as your cunt squeezed him. His slicked up abs flexed as he thrust into you, fucking you like an animal.

He growled as he came, slamming into you as each spurt of cum shot into you, soaking your walls. You moaned as he filled you.

Logan panted and laid on top of you for a moment, letting his claws retract.

After a few seconds he wrapped an arm around your middle and hauled you up onto the bed before both of you collapsed on your side, spooning with his dick still inside of you.

You sighed and nuzzled into his big burly arms.

“Fuck…” He breathed as he buried his face in your hair, his cock twitched inside of you.

You smiled to yourself and slid him out of you as you turned over and cuddled against his chest.

You settled in and let yourself relax as he held you tightly, his overstimulated cock pressed against your sex. He held you impossibly close, as if you might get ripped away otherwise. He kissed and cradled your head against him in what could only be an act of devotion.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I watched X-men (2000) and i immediately wanted him moaning and whimpering what can I say??

Also pls use tags if you’re going to repost as it helps with post visibility🫶🫶

[httpvomitello]

Donatello

In the middle of the fight - Bayverse!Donnie

Quadruple surprise - Bayverse!Donnie

Falling in love with you - Donnie ROTTMNT

Donnie has a... WHAT? - Bayverse!Donnie

In Too Deep - Bayverse!Donnie

Finals, Friends, and Midnight Snacks - Bayverse!Donnie Platonic

Do You Like Me Too? - Donnie TMNT 2012

Call of Distraction - Bayverse!Donnie

You don't mess with our sister - Bayverse!Donnie Platonic

All For One We Fight Together - Bayverse!Donnie Platonic

Heart Squad - Donnie ROTTMNT Platonic

Trying to fit in - Donnie Mutant Mayhem Platonic

She Is My World - Donnie TMNT 2012

Through the Cracks - Donnie ROTTMNT

Turtleception - Bayverse!Donnie

Tiny Terror - Donnie ROTTMNT

Comfort Time - Bayverse!Donnie

Unseen Battles - Bayverse!Donnie (TW: scars)

Halfway Home - Donnie TMNT 2012

Cute Cat - Bayverse!Donnie

Steal My Heart, Why Don’t You? - Donnie ROTTMNT

Family Circuits - Donnie ROTTMNT

A New Dynamic - Donnie ROTTMNT

Shell Of Trust - Bayverse!Donnie

The Fine Art of Poking the Genius - Donnie ROTTMNT

In the Glow of the Lab Light - Donnie ROTTMNT

Shadows of Redemption - Bayverse!Donnie Platonic

Unexpected Affection - Donnie ROTTMNT

Leonardo

Triple Surprise - Bayverse!Leo

Falling in love with you - Leo ROTTMNT

Thunderstorm Comfort - Bayverse!Leo

In Too Deep - Bayverse!Leo

Late-Night Confessions - Bayverse!Leo

Finals, Friends, and Midnight Snacks - Bayverse!Leo Platonic

Do You Like Me Too? - Leo TMNT 2012

Call of Distraction - Bayverse!Leo

You don't mess with our sister - Bayverse!Leo Platonic

All For One We Fight Together - Bayverse!Leo Platonic

Heart Squad - Leo ROTTMNT Platonic

Trying to fit in - Leo Mutant Mayhem Platonic

Through the Cracks - Leo ROTTMNT

Turtleception - Bayverse!Leo

Tiny Terror - Leo ROTTMNT

Comfort Time - Bayverse!Leo

Unseen Battles - Bayverse!Leo (TW: scars)

Halfway Home - Leo TMNT 2012

Cute Cat - Bayverse!Leo

Boosting the Blue - Leo ROTTMNT

Steal My Heart, Why Don’t You? - Leo ROTTMNT

A New Dynamic - Leo ROTTMNT

Shell of Trust - Bayverse!Leo

Shadows of Redemption - Bayverse!Leo Platonic

Unexpected Affection - Leo ROTTMNT

Raphael

Falling in love with you - Raph ROTTMNT

Double Surprise - Bayverse!Raph

Angry Attraction - Bayverse!Raph

In Too Deep - Bayverse!Raph

Finals, Friends, and Midnight Snacks - Bayverse!Raph Platonic

Do You Like Me Too? - Raph TMNT 2012

Call of Distraction - Bayverse!Raph

You don't mess with our sister - Bayverse!Raph Platonic

All For One We Fight Together - Bayverse!Raph Platonic

Heart Squad - Raph ROTTMNT Platonic

Trying to fit in - Raph Mutant Mayhem Platonic

Through the Cracks - Raph ROTTMNT

Turtleception - Bayverse!Raph

Tiny Terror - Raph ROTTMNT

Comfort Time - Bayverse!Raph

Unseen Battles - Bayverse!Raph (TW: scars)

Halfway Home - Raph TMNT 2012

Cute Cat - Bayverse!Raph

Steal My Heart, Why Don’t You? - Raph ROTTMNT

A New Dynamic - Raph ROTTMNT

Across Every Universe - Bayverse!Raph

Shell Of Trust - Bayverse!Raph

Shadows of Redemption - Bayverse!Raph Platonic

Unexpected Affection - Raph ROTTMNT

Michelangelo

Falling in love with you - Mikey ROTTMNT

In Too Deep - Bayverse!Mikey

Finals, Friends, and Midnight Snacks - Bayverse!Mikey Platonic

Do You Like Me Too? - Mikey TMNT 2012

Call of Distraction - Bayverse!Mikey

Surprise - Bayverse!Mikey

You don't mess with our sister - Bayverse!Mikey Platonic

All For One We Fight Together - Bayverse!Mikey Platonic

Heart Squad - Mikey ROTTMNT Platonic

Trying to fit in - Mikey Mutant Mayhem Platonic

Through the Cracks - Mikey ROTTMNT

Turtleception - Bayverse!Mikey

Tiny Terror - Mikey ROTTMNT

Comfort Time - Bayverse!Mikey

Unseen Battles - Bayverse!Mikey (TW: scars)

Halfway Home - Mikey TMNT 2012

Cute Cat - Bayverse!Mikey

Steal My Heart, Why Don’t You? - Mikey ROTTMNT

A New Dynamic - Mikey ROTTMNT

Shell Of Trust - Bayverse!Mikey

Shadows of Redemption - Bayverse!Mikey Platonic

Unexpected Affection - Mikey ROTTMNT

Headcanons - TMNT

[logansobsession]

Intoxicating Desire

Pairings: Logan Howlett x fem! mutant reader

Summary: You and Logan have always been close friends, you knew everything about each other and did everything together. The only thing Logan doesn't do, is sit where your power is strongest: the greenhouse. Logan has never seen or heard about your power.

Word count: 4.8 K

Content Warnings: Explicit (18+ mdni), Smut, dirty thoughts, spitting, spicy tension, age gap, praising kink, no use of y/n, reader has ability to control plants and produce flowers from body, along with other flower related things, borderline sub!, teasing, choking.

A/N: This has been sitting in the back of my mind for the past week, I love me a weak Logan * cries out*. Something about his shell breaking and being putty in our hands makes ME turn to putty. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

The greenhouse. The place you go to find solace. Granted, it's the only place you can go to feel your powers fully. With being "graced" with the mutation to control plants, along with sprouting whatever you decide from your body.

The silence. The pure oxygen from the plants. It's otherworldly to you, keeping you chained there for hours, sometimes days. Most of your friends at the mansion know about your mutation. But, it's never spoken per your request. Everyone has such powerful mutations, spectacles of wonder and curiosity, then there's you. The plant girl.

You used to hate the mutation when you were shipped to the mansion at 16. Suppressing it any moment given. Charles spent hours upon hours with you, slowly teaching you to love and use the mutation in beautiful ways. Hank taught you how to control your frustrations and anger, which made it more difficult to control it. Scott... Scott didn't teach anything to you, he just enjoyed watching the show when you did use the mutation.

But Logan? He became your best friend, in the aspects of being your mentor. Taught you how to fight and defend yourself during hand to hand combat. He was there to offer a silent shoulder when you cried about boys, to hanging out with you. In fact, you guys hung out everywhere. Until Charles had the greenhouse built for you shortly after turning 18.

Logan never came to visit you when you would hole yourself up for hours. Nobody did really. The only person that visited you was Hank, but he couldn't handle the humidity as well as you did.

Today was humid, but rain pouring down as if the gods were crying. Which meant you would receive no visitors. The constant assault of rain upon the see through roof provided a lulling background noise, it was almost calming enough to let you rest there.

Logan was walking around the halls, bored out of his mind, he didn't have anything to do so he decided to try and find something or someone to cure his boredom with. He turned the corner and began to approach the greenhouse.

You stood in front of a rose bush, trimming any dead or sick leaves and stems from the bush. The rain was a constant sound, almost drowning out the sound of Logan's knocking before entering the greenhouse.

He stood at the entrance to the greenhouse, peering in at you, watching you for a moment before deciding to interrupt you.

"Hey." He said in a gruff voice.

You jumped in surprise, clutching at your heart before smiling.

"Hey! You finally visiting? Or is it too hot in here for you?"

"Too hot?" He raised a questioning eyebrow and shut the door behind him, the temperature in the room didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Seems fine in here to me."

You nod and laugh "Most of them don't enjoy being in here because it gets fairly humid. I think the rain cooled it down a significant amount today." as you gesture to the roof with the plant trimmers before resuming your task.

"Eh, I've been through worse." He shrugged, slowly drawing closer to you, looking over your shoulder to see what you were doing.

You smile again, continuing your work. "I'm cutting any sick or dead stems from the bush. Keeps the plant itself from getting sick or dying."

You look over your shoulder at him. "Would you like a stool? I usually keep one nearby incase Hank or Scott come to visit."

"Nah, I'm fine." He insisted, as he leaned against the wall, he continued to watch you as you worked, he wasn't all that interested in what you were doing with the plant; he was more interested in you to be honest, he'd just never come to check on you as he usually avoided the greenhouse.

"Alright, suit yourself." You shrug your shoulders before doing a final check on the bush, ensuring you didn't leave any behind. You take a step back and smile at your work.

"Now that's a healthy rose bush if I do say so myself." You walk back to the center of the greenhouse, a midsize willow tree surrounded by stone bricks. You sit down on the stone and pat the empty spot next to you.

He watched you as you sat down and pat next to you, beckoning him to sit with you. Logan pushed himself off the wall and stalked over to you, taking a seat next to you. Even sitting down he still dwarfed you in both size and stature, he leaned against the trunk of the tree but still turned his head to look at you, with an eyebrow raised.

You stare up at the willow, and smile. As you're looking up, you say "Isn't it beautiful? Charles picked the location of the green house for the sole purpose of this willow. It's soothing in a way. Branches drooping, almost sad in a constant melancholy state."

He also looked up at the willow, and he had to agree that it was beautiful. As he watched the branches sway, he also noticed the way that they seemed to droop, as if they were sad.

"It does have a calming presence to it." He agreed as he sat by your side, watching the willow.

You break your gaze from the willow, bringing it to Logan. "So how come you never come to the greenhouse? I'm almost always in here. Granted, no one likes the plant loving mutant and her weird fascination with plants, so I don't blame any of you."

He turned his face to look at you, he thought for a moment in whether he should be fully honest with you or not. He let out a sigh before speaking.

"It's not that I have anything against you, I just ain't a big fan in spending a whole lot of time around plants, or inside for that matter."

You nod your head, listening to him as he spoke. You pat your hands against your lap before you stood in front of him "Do you actually think I'm a mutant... like you?" you say as you place your hands on your hips.

Logan raised an eyebrow curiously as you asked the question. What a strange and out of the blue question to ask, he thought to himself as he looked up at you. He also noticed a shift in your tone. So leaned back against the willow and took a moment to think about his answer, before responding, "If I had to make a guess... I'd think you're a mutant."

You nod your head and smile. "That is correct. But my mutation isn't anything special. So I never use it." You shrug before picking up the trimmers and walk over to a patch of lilacs.

He continued to watch you as you moved over to a different plant. He stood up and followed you to the patch of lilacs. " Why don't you use it? You've been here for years, and I've never seen you do anything different?"

You get down on your knees and slowly start your work on the lilacs "Well it doesn't serve any real purpose, so I don't use it. I'm not a show off like some people in the mansion." You turn your head up at Logan and smile innocently.

He chuckled at your response, "No, you're too sweet to be that kind of person." A thought suddenly crossed his mind, he looked down at the lilacs as you worked on them.

"May I ask you something?"

You smile wider at Logan's compliment and turn your head back to the lilacs "Of course, I'm an open book. You can ask me anything."

He watched you for a moment as you continued to work. He paused for a moment, he was suddenly feeling a bit nervous but he didn't show outward signs of it. "So, what exactly is your mutation then?"

You let out a small sigh and slowly stand up. You walk back to the willow, setting the trimmers down. " I'm a little rusty, it's not something I do often, so bear with me." You say, brushing your hands off on your apron. "Come here" You hold out your hand for Logan to come near.

He watched you as you finished up and put the trimmers down. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you held out your hand and gestured for him to come closer. He hesitantly stepped closer towards you.

"Come closer...I need you closer for this." You wave him to come closer. You shake your arms and shoulders, growing nervous as to if you can even do it anymore. You smile and wink at Logan, " This is my favorite party trick. But I save it for special people."

He watched you as you stood in front of him with a nervous smile. He raised his eyebrow as you said it was a "party trick". Still, he was more than intrigued to know what exactly what your trick was. He stepped even closer to you, standing in front of you.

You place your hands softly on Logan's chest, over his heart. I looked up at him, " I need you to think about something or someone you care about or love. Whatever it may be. Okay?" You raise your eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

He took a sharp breath as you placed your hands on his chest. He felt his heart rate pick up as you did so. He looked down at you, noticing you had gotten closer to him. He nodded, he had someone in his mind.

"Alright. I got what I need in mind."

Logan watched in surprise as the green house began to change around the both of you, as vines and branches creeped up the glass walls, making it much darker inside than it was before. He looked up at the roof and saw it covered in vines and branches. He watched as vines slowly crept down, blooming into long tufts of wisteria. He looked back down at you, he was shocked to see you exerting this kind of power. He'd never expected it from someone of your nature. Still, he kept his mouth shut, eager to see what you'd do next.

You let out a ragged breath, searching for any more power you had. Slowly, hues of pinks and purples erupted from your hair. Tiny flowers blossomed, framing your face perfectly. You open your eyes, breathing hard and smiling. Your hands still resting on Logan's chest as you say "Like my party trick?" You look around at the vines and flowers covering the inside of the greenhouse.

He was speechless, he looked around in awe at the greenhouse. Covered in vines, with wisteria everywhere. His eyes fell back down to you as you spoke. He looked over your face, noticing all the tiny flowers framing your pretty face. He blinked a few times in shock, until he finally came back to his sense and spoke, his voice slightly shaky from the shock. "That's a pretty amazing party trick you have there."

You smile and gently remove your hands from Logan's chest. He remained in a daze, watching you pat his chest before removing your hands. You looked up at the ceiling, proud of the show you had put on for Logan, after not using your abilities in at least two years.

You reached up, grabbing a small tuft of wisteria, opening Logan's hand and placing the flower in his hand gently. He felt his heart skip a beat as you grabbed his hand, placing the flower there. He could feel butterflies in his stomach as you looked at him.

Your face grows warm before speaking up, " I do have one little more part of my mutation that I didn't tell you about."

Logan raise an eyebrow slightly at your words, listening intently as you spoke. You'd piqued his curiosity. A part of your mutation that you hadn't told him about? He found that interesting and honestly a bit annoying that you hadn't told him already.

"There's a part to your mutation that you haven't told me about? And what is that part, sweetheart?"

You smile, taking a step back so you could clearly see his face. "You know some flowers release a scent? An almost intoxicating scent that's alluring to the senses?"

He glanced after you as you stepped away from him, watching as you brought your hands to your sides. He nodded his head, already knowing where you're going with this. He was already realizing that you'd been holding something back from him. "Yeah, I know what you're talking about, why?"

You stay silent point to yourself, hoping he makes the connection. It took him a moment, but he soon caught on to what you were hinting at. And as soon as he had, he swore his knees almost buckled at the realization.

"You-your flowers do release a scent that's luring to the senses?"

You nod, "Some of them yes. As an extra boost. But Charles taught me to suppress my emotions and this because it acts as pheromone." You state. You take a few moments in silence. "Would you like to see what I mean?"

He didn't even have to think before nodding his head, he wanted to see un-suppress this little ability of yours, seeing the effects it'd have just out of pure curiosity. " Yeah, I'd like to see what you mean. Go on sweetheart go ahead and show me."

You sit down on the stone by the willow tree and close your eyes. You mentally unravel everything Charles had taught you. Slowly. But surely, a rainbow of colors blossomed within your hair and an intoxicating scent mixed with your pheromones.

Logan was absolutely mesmerized as he watched you sit down and close your eyes, watching in wonder as the normally subtle blossoms in your hair began to explode to an almost dazzling spectrum of colors. And as the intoxicating scent mixed your pheromones, he strange sort of need grow in his chest.

"Sweetheart... What are you doing to me..."

The scent grew stronger, becoming easily detected by the normal senses. It filled the green house, almost creating an invisible haze. The scent was slowly driving Logan crazy. His breathing was getting heavier in response to it, the smell being intoxicating like you had said. He felt something deep within him respond and almost beg for him to get physically closer to you.

"Fuck... darling...the smell... It's messing with me..."

You opened your eyes slowly while holding your breath and looked at Logan. You tilted your head in a way of saying "I told you so" before closing your eyes again and cutting off the scent from emanating any more. You stood up and walked back to Logan and smiled.

The moment you'd cut off the scent, he felt like he'd suddenly been doused in a bucket of cold water. He was suddenly able to actually get his bearings again, able to realize how strongly he'd been affected by you un-suppressing that part of your mutation.

"Jesus Christ... that scent was... something else.. I don't think I've ever felt that type of need for someone, sweetheart..."

You dramatically bow, and stand back up straight. " And that is why I spent four years training alone with Charles. All in the mind."

Logan chuckled softly, feeling amused at how dramatically you had bowed just to emphasize the effectiveness of the power you had just revealed. " Damn... I can't really blame Charles for spending that much time with you to make sure you'd be able to control it. If you could just let that loose, anytime, you'd have every single person in the mansion swooning over you in no time."

You look down at your hands momentarily, " That isn't it at the strongest, I know your heightened senses are probably raw from that little bit. I could show you, but if you need fresh air, I promise I won't be mad at you Logan."

As the scent of the flowers still lingered throughout the air, mixing with the subtle but still present smell of your pheromones. It was driving him insane, like a constant itch in the back of his mind, to just grab you and keep you close to him. "Darling I'm not going anywhere."

He hadn't completely regained control yet and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave you alone when he was still being affected by you. You look at him and nod, understanding. " I'll go somewhere where you can't hurt me and I can stop anytime that you want me to."

His breath hitched slightly at your question. His head was still clouded from the scent that had filled the green house and he couldn't think clearly enough to decide whether that would be a good idea or not. Something deep within him was still demanding and almost begging for him to get closer to you, to hold you in his arms. But he somehow managed to answer coherently

"You sure you want to do that sweetheart?"

"I want to show you what it's like if I went out on a field mission with you guys." You start speaking as you look at Logan. "I can't direct it yet at a single person, so if I use it against an enemy, it'll also affect the entire team."

Logan nodded as you spoke, listening intently. The strong scent still filled the air, his mind still in a haze. He was definitely tempted to get closer to you, but he managed to rein in his urges, barely..

"So that's why you can't actually go missions... it'll affect the team as well, not just the enemies.."

You nod your head "Yes. It's really the only useful and semi powerful thing in relation to my mutation..." You trail off, bringing your hand back to Logan's chest. "Are you sure you want to go through it again?"

He was tempted to just wrap his arms around you the second you put your hand on his chest, feeling it like a jolt to his system that just further made it hard to think. But he managed to answer you again,

"Yeah. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let's see what happens."

"Stay right there and don't move" you say with a serious tone coating your voice. You walk over to the willow tree and begin climbing in.

You reach the part of the tree that has a groove, perfect for sitting, a place you commonly rested at. You sat yourself in a way that Logan could still see you, but still in a way that would prevent you from falling in case you fainted.

"And you're positive that you want to do this?"

Logan watched as you went and climbed the tree. He was definitely having to exert every last ounce of willpower and strength he had to follow your instructions and just stay where he was and not follow you up that damn tree. "Sweetheart, I'm positive. Go ahead and show me what you got."

You close your eyes and open your arms from your body. Flowers blossoming from your head, painting your arms in hues of pinks and purples. You slowly begin to smell the familiar scent you spent hours holding deep down, radiate from your skin. As your eyes are closed and focusing on your body, you softly say "This isn't full power... Are you okay?"

The moment he felt the scent return to the air and begin to permeate throughout the greenhouse, all control Logan had was gone; the scent completely taking over his mind within moments. All he could think about was getting up to you, how perfect you would fit in his arms, and how much he just wanted to get close and touch you. But he tried to answer you in a coherent way. "Yeah... I'm fine... keeping going.."

You take a deep breath and let your mind and body begin to take over. You mentally go to a different place as the scent grows unbearably strong. Your body begins to sweat, beads of sickly sweet sweat rolling from your face down onto your cleavage. The sweat creates an even more pungent aroma that mingles with the scent within the greenhouse.

Logan's breathing was becoming shakier with every second that passed, feeling the scent grow even stronger and that mixed with the beads of sweat slowly making their way down your body was driving him absolutely insane. He was still having to exercise every ounce of self control to not follow you up the damn tree, desperately fighting against the overwhelming urge to just grab you and make you his.

"Oh...God... sweetheart you're making this so damn goddamn hard..."

It's been so long since you've let go like this, the release of pent up energy felt good, too good. You lean back hard, back connecting with the thick tree branch as the scent rolls off of you in thick, aggressive waves, as your self control whittles down to nothing.

He was at the very edge of his willpower by this point, the scent was so damn strong now and the sight of you lean back, sweat rolling down your body was taking every ounce of control he had away.

"Fuck...sweetheart you're going to send me over the edge... I swear to God I'm gonna completely lose it if you go anymore..."

Logan's voice sounding further away as you drift away from the control you had spent years precising. You knew deep down that you would have to go back to working with Charles, but in the very moment, it felt soothing to finally lose control.

Logan couldn't think clearly at all by this point, the scent that filled the air and the sight of your body, sweat beginning to soak your camisole, were driving him past the brink of sanity.

"God... Sweetheart... I can't hold back anymore.. I'm gonna do something...I'm warning you now"

You relish in the feeling of release, realizing that it needs to be done more than not doing it at all. Flowers and thin vines erupting from your hands, crawling and wrapping slowly around the tree; creating more open pockets to release the intoxicating aroma.

That was it.

You relishing in the release and the sight of the vines and flowers from your hands, wrapping around the tree was the last straw for Logan. He couldn't hold back anymore and as such, he gave in to the urge, not caring anymore.

"God DAMN it... I warned you." He let out a growl as he quickly ran towards the tree.

You laid there in uncontrolled bliss, too far off of the edge on control to reel it back in. Logan quickly jumped, using every ounce of his strength to scale the tree and get up to where you were, looking absolutely feral as he approached you, where you were sitting in the small groove of the tree.

"Oh sweetheart... look at you... you look like an absolute mess.. like a damn vision sitting up here... a vision that's mine to touch."

You barely feel Logan's body heat as your senses are far more defined than before. But all control of this has been lost and you lay there deep within your mind.

He quickly crowded towards you, leaning over you slightly as you sat there in a sort of half dazed state in the tree. He was feeling very, very possessive of you in this moment, seeing you with sweat coating your body; flowers and vines from your hands wrapping around the tree, and that scent of yours filling the air.

"God you're so damn perfect like this, so damn gorgeous.. so damn mine to touch..."

The lull of release temporarily becomes bearable and you slowly come back to your mind, scent still radiating from your body. You open your eyes and see Logan leaning over you, eyes dark and filled with desire.

He was looming over you, body almost fully caging you to the trunk of the tree. Eyes dark, nothing but lust and wild with possessiveness as he looked down on you, seeing you slowly start to come back to your senses. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you, practically drenched in sweat and flowers, sitting there in a half-dazed state of release at his touch. "There you are... look at you doll... a complete mess..."

You hazily smiled, closing your eyes once again, more vines erupting from your hands, slowly slinking around Logan, tying him in place all while pulling him closer. You whisper to him gently "I told you it's a lot."

Logan tried to bite back a moan as he was suddenly enveloped by the vines from your hands, feeling them wrap around his arms and legs, pulling him even closer until he was fully pressed against you, completely at your mercy.

"Doll... you're killing me here.. you feel so damn good..."

You look at him through half-lidded eyes, whispering "You doing okay?"

He nodded quickly at your question, feeling like his body had never been more alive and on fire than right then. Being all tied up by the vines from your hands, being held so close against you, the aroma of flowers and the sweat from your body being absolutely overpowering...

"Yeah... I'm doing more than okay sweetheart.."

A vine slowly snaked up Logan's back and around his neck, wrapping itself firmly around his neck as more flowers blossomed, releasing the aroma right underneath his nose.

He practically saw stars as the vine began to wrap around his neck, flowers releasing more of the damn intoxicating scent and completely scrambling his mind even more. He let out an almost guttural sounding moan at the intense feeling, the vines and scent making it increasingly difficult to think.

"God... sweetheart.. that feels so goooood...."

You close your eyes once more, controlling the vines wrapping Logan, pulling him face to face with me. The vine grips at Logan's neck again, you open your eyes again and smile. " Told you it's powerful.." You whisper against his lips.

Logan looked completely feral with how he practically on the verge of losing it as you pulled his face even closer, the vine around his neck tugging again, making the sensation even more intense. He let out a guttural moan again at how good it felt being wrapped up and completely within your power, being so close to your face with your lips just barely touching his.

" God sweetheart... you're insane."

You open your mouth just barely, dragging your tongue against Logan's bottom lip before bringing it into your mouth, biting and tugging at it before releasing it. "Tell me what you want to do to me Logan...please."

Logan practically whimpered at that, the feeling of your tongue against his bottom lip and you biting and tugging was more intense than he really expected it to be, driving him insane. He let out another guttural moan as you released his lip, feeling completely under your control as he managed to answer

"I want.. want to touch you.. kiss you.. feel your bare skin against mine.. just have you completely."

A low hum radiates from your throat as you bite Logan's bottom lip again, harder and drawing blood from his lip. "Tell me what you want to do to my body Logan."

He let out another moan as you bite his lip again, drawing blood. It hurt, but he couldn't focus on the pain as the feeling being tangled and held by the vines and being held so damn close you was overwhelming.

"God..I'm..I'm gonna kiss your body all over.. gonna feel your skin.. gonna devour every damn inch of you and make you mine..."

You hum again, "Tell me you're mine... tell me you'll be mine to use and play with whenever my little heart desires Logan.."

He let out a moan at the hum you gave him, feeling more and more like he was yours to use and play with. His primal side was fully taking over at this point as he answered.

" God yes... I'm yours sweetheart, I'm all yours.. I'll be yours to use and play with whenever your damn little heart pleases..."

You close your eyes, tightening the vine around Logan's neck even more "Good boy..." You whisper, praising him.

Logan let out another moan as the vine around his neck was tightened even more, his breathing becoming even more labored as it took him everything he had to answer you. His mind completely fogged over by how this felt, being so completely captured by you, completely at your mercy.

"God... yes... I'm your good boy.. please sweetheart... don't stop... keep going.. I'm all yours..."

[khayalli]

local demisexual man experiences a new emotion and literally malfunctions. what a DORK lmao

this is messy and will probably stay messy. i just wanted to draw him smiling. I WAS DARED TO BY @turtlecleric (they brought it up once (1) and i was possessed) LINK

YOU. I LITERALLY JUST GOT THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM NOOOOOOOOO

[a-leg-without-fear]

Flooded Red (pt.2) 🩸🌧️

get ready for some ANGST babes

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: torture, experimentation, gore, violence, cursing, electrocuting, drugging, mind control, medical equipment, implied child endangerment, ANGST

Series: Flooded Red

Groggy. You felt groggy. Tendrils of fog clouded around the edges of your mind. Swirling amongst the slow thoughts that had gathered, blurring words and images. Flashes of red, hot blood and bright lights shot through your dazed mind. A dull ache gathered at the base of your skull.

The next thing that registered was the biting cold of the metal table beneath you. Chills shook along your sore spine. You tried to adjust your cramped muscles, tried to stretch out your stiff joints.

But you couldn’t.

Your hands were fully encompassed in metal spheres. Thick iron wrapped around your wrists and encasing your fingers. You pulled at the restraints, desperation leaking into your veins. Rough metal chafed along the skin at your wrists. Rubbing and scratching and leaving the flesh raw.

Panic gripped at your racing heart. Your eyes flew open to gauge your situation. All you could see was black. Like someone had left the lights off in the middle of the night. Your gaze darted around in the darkness. Searching for something, anything. 

You couldn’t breathe. Terror spilled into the edges of your mind like ink in water. Sharp talons raked through any coherent thoughts still bouncing around in your head. Primal fear choked you. You pulled and squirmed, a wild animal struggling to be free.

Latex gloves smoothed down your bare arm. The powdered rubber pulled at your skin as thin fingers prodded at the inside of your elbow. Like five daggers stabbing into you and spurring on the feral beast clawing at your throat.

Your consciousness slipped beneath the appalling gloves, mind tracing along the miniscule veins running under twitching skin. You followed the veins through this attacker’s arm. The pointed taste of norepinephrine and acetylcholine coated your tongue. This person was focused, relaxed.

You zeroed-in on the flow of acetylcholine through this person’s veins. Tracing the chemical back to its source. The hypothalamus. That small, ever important part in the center of one’s brain. The main coordinator of the nervous system and bodily cravings.

Like squishing a grape between your fingers, you crushed this person’s hypothalamus with a single thought. You could taste fresh blood leaking into the air, the coppery scent filling your sinuses and satiating the gnawing dread in your gut. The gloves running along your skin disappeared.

Pride licked up your throat, satisfaction seeping into your pores at the absence of latex on your skin.

Torturous electric pulses zipped along your skin. Shocks emanating from the metal table below you and the iron clasped on your hands. Excruciating lightning coursed through your body and made your back arch. Your arms tugged at their restraints, legs scrambling for leverage, head shaking back and forth.

As instantaneous as the shocks had started, the pain ceased. Gulping breaths filled your strained lungs. Sparks of the remaining electricity under your skin made you wince.

“Let’s not kill the techs, shall we? Each corpse garners a mountain of paperwork and a devastated family.”

Your unseeing eyes searched in the void for the source of the voice. It sounded familiar, masculine. A slight southern drawl laced in each word.

“There we are. Calmed down?” 

Recognition hit you in the chest like a freight train. Your lips curled, a feral snarl seeping through your bared teeth.

“You,” you growled, malice and pure hatred filled your mind like sand in an hourglass. This man attacked your home. Hurt your kids. Threatened your Logan. Anger like you had never known washed over you like a raging inferno.

“Yes, me. Now that we are familiar, are we in agreement?” he asked. His voice was loud, projected, crackling. Like it came from a large speaker somewhere to your right. 

“Fuck you,” you hissed. You tugged furiously at your restraints. Bestial rage burned away at all cognition. Flames scorched your mind and sent you into a fucking frenzy. Your teeth gnashed, chest heaved, muscles tightened.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be more cordial than the Wolverine. No matter. Nothing a little behavioral management won’t solve.”

Your body jolted as electricity streaked through your bones. You cried out, jaw clenching and fists tightening in their iron coffins.

This round of electrocution was blessedly short. You heaved, stomach lurching and heart thumping rapidly behind your ribcage, when the shocks had stopped.

“Are. We. In. Agreement?” the man asked again, annunciating every word. You panted, skin glistening in sweat, throat constricting and nearly choking you. The man sighed, “Bleeder, I’ll need an answer. Will you kill any more of my employees?”

You snarled at your old moniker, then thunked your head down on the table in defeat, “No.”

“Good. Now, since that’s settled, I’m going to have Maria draw your blood. Do your best to refrain from killing her. She has two sons at home.”

Powdered latex rubbed at your elbow again. You gritted your teeth, molars grinding against one another, as you tried to restrain the whirling rage inside you. Shaking fingers felt along your skin. Pressing deep into the flesh now and then, looking for that prominent vein that ran through the crook of your arm.

Cool liquid brushed across your skin. A smooth cloth doused in alcohol rubbing and sanitizing your arm. The acrid scent filled your sinuses, making you flinch. Every nerve ending in your body was ringing alarms. Constant fear flooded your mind as the seconds ticked by.

A tight pinch pierced your skin and you nearly went back on your word. Almost lashing out like a cornered, rabid animal. The needle pushed under your skin and settled in your vein. Foreign, metal, cold, bad. It shouldn’t be in your arm. You should remove it, kill whoever stuck it in you.

No. This wasn’t you. You didn’t mindlessly kill people. No matter how angry you were, you would always try to find a solution. Pushing down your own feelings for the sake of peace. The fiery hatred burning inside was a feeling you often tried to ignore, tried to suppress, if not for you then for those you cared about.

Memories floated through your mind like leaves on the surface of a pond. Logan laughing at something stupid you said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Charles giving you a scathing review of a book he’d recently read. Jean and Scott cuddled together, tucked away behind a corner in the foyer.

Your friends. Your colleagues. Your family.

A trembling breath passed between your lips. The feral rage churning inside you had simmered down to a low heat. Just barely warming the edges of your mind in anger. You swallowed a grief-covered lump that had gathered in your throat.

~~~~

Colonel William Stryker watched your blood being drawn with mild curiosity. Like watching an animal in a vet’s office have their blood work done. You were restrained, arms bound and eyes covered, with a terrified Maria standing over you. Her trembling hands clutched at your arm as the red liquid flowed through the rubber tube.

A thick pane of glass separated William from you. Elevated by at least a story, Stryker stood in the observation deck. He adjusted how his dark jacket fell across his midriff. Bright lights hanging from the ceiling reflected white circles on his glasses. 

The control panel sitting before him glowed and quietly hummed. Switches connected to the electric interface of your restraints. Red button to shock you, blue button to sedate you, green button to release you. Ingenious design, if you asked him.

Sharp heels clicked on the concrete floor next to him. Yuriko, black suited and hair slicked back, moved to stand next to William. Her hands were clutched behind her back, chrome nails just barely shimmering in the light. Silver eyes looked between William and your writhing body below.

“Is Xavier ready?” he asked, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Yuriko, ever the silent one, gave him a quick nod. William took one last glance down at you, a spot of pity bubbling in his stomach, then turned away from the glass.

Soldiers with varying degrees of combat armor and armaments lined the halls of the dam. Each giving William a polite nod as the colonel breezed past. Stryker barely acknowledged the formal greetings, periphery only just catching glimpses of their faces. They were unimportant.

A hiss sprouted from the metal door as it slid open. Chrome, unpolished, with a clouded window near the top. He grimaced in disgust. Everything in this accursed dam was filthy. Not a place for a man of his repute to continue his work, and certainly not structurally sound enough to house the several mutants he now possessed.

The room he stepped into was much like every other room in the Alkali Lake Dam. Concrete entombing him on all sides, bright lights hanging from the ceiling, spots of equipment and machinery placed near the doors for easy access.

Green light glowed from sconces set low on the curved walls. Wires and tools suspended from the ceiling hung in alcoves like swinging corpses. A steel table and chair sat in front of one of those alcoves. Stryker moved to the table, double checking his pen was still in his breast pocket, then turned to face the current object of his desire.

Charles Francis Xavier. In all of his bald, old, crippled glory. His posh blue suit and silk gold tie reflected the white spotlight directed at him. A chrome device sat on the mutant’s wrinkled brow. Steel, magnetization, and electricity working together to cage his mind inside that thick skull of his.

Stryker chuckled under his breath at the sight. The great Professor X. All powerful telepath who could control the entire world with a single thought. Reduced to a hunched man in a wheelchair.

Xavier stirred, head beginning to raise from its lowered position. Stryker kept an air of indifference on his face while clutching at the pen in his jacket. When the mutant’s eyes met the colonel’s, William threw the professor a proud smile. Understanding passed through Xavier’s perplexed expression.

“William…”

“Please, Xavier, don’t get up,” Stryker said, cutting the mutant off. A chuckle threatened to leave his chest at his own quip.

Quiet whirring surrounded Xavier as the man folded in on himself. Eyes squeezing shut, shoulders twitching. 

“I call it the neural inhibitor,” William explained. He watched the mutant struggle under the steel cap, then continued while tapping his forehead, “It keeps you out of here.”

The whirring stopped as Xavier’s eyes opened. Beady blues took in the space around the cripple. Wrists bound in leather straps, suit roughed up at the edges, Stryker and Yuriko standing before him.

“What have you done with Scott?” Xavier asked, voice thin and edged in pain.

“Don’t worry. I’m just giving him a little re-education. Him and that little pet project of yours,” Stryker replied. Xavier tensed in the seat of his wheelchair.

“You don’t mean-”

“Why yes, I do. The little weapon of mass destruction y’all have taken to calling ‘Vampire,’” William said with undeniable confidence. He leaned back on the concrete wall next to him as he said, “Of course, we both know she’ll never truly leave behind her old name. What was it?”

“William-”

“No, that’s not it. ‘Bleeder.’ Yeah, that’s the one,” Stryker mused. Xavier’s jaw clenched, withered hands curling into fists. The mutant eyed the colonel with sparking anger burning in his blue eyes.

“She hasn’t used that calling card in quite some time,” Xavier said slowly, voice coming out measured and restrained. Stryker huffed an incredulous laugh.

“Just because the lion is trapped in a zoo doesn’t change its nature. Savagery can’t be swayed by giving the lion a cushy home and ample playmates. Sooner or later, professor, she will snap again. And from the way she mosied up to me in that mansion of yours, I’d say she’s one breath away from tearing the whole country to pieces.”

~~~~

Logan silently followed the group of teenagers in front of him up the driveway. Early morning sun rippled through the trees and onto Bobby’s family home. Gentle breezes made the grass sway, the sounds of cars starting down the road echoed across damp asphalt, freshly-mowed grass a few doors down floated through the air.

His mind was a fucking hurricane. Spinning and twisting and raging to where it was hard to tell which way was up. Glimpses of the events from the night before rolled through his head like peals of thunder.

You were gone. You were right fucking in front of him, scared eyes meeting his, and then you were gone. Obscured by the frosted blue ice Bobby had conjured. Logan had pounded on that ice until his hands bled, desperate to reach you, desperate to see your eyes again, desperate to get you away from that man.

Stryker.

Wrath boiled in his chest when the name crossed his mind. Logan had no memory to connect to the name, no instance of ill-intent, nothing that would link this deep-seated hatred.

Well, other than the fact that the guy had raided the fucking mansion and took you from Logan. Severed from his life like a missing limb.

He barely registered the climb up the front porch steps. Nor the conversation passing between Rogue, John, and Bobby. Logan’s mind swirled with the agony of losing you, the confusion surrounding this whole scenario, the unbridled fury licking at that primal part of his mind.

His hand subconsciously slipped the front door shut behind his group. White-suburban walls and decorations hit Logan’s downturned vision like he’d wandered into a Target. He brushed away his racing thoughts to verify that the door was locked.

Logan would get you back. He’d stop Stryker, free the kidnapped mutants, and get you back. Even if he had to climb fucking Mount Everest. He wouldn’t rest until you were safe, held against his chest and tucked under the covers in your bed.

thoughts? comments? concerns? theories? let me know!!!

leg's taglist: @hazydespair @spideybv28 @fantasticalartist @autisticnutcase @captainwans @ayamenimthiriel @tsukiko26 @up-l4te-4t-n1ght

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[mrabubu]

What happens if I kiss Leo on the cheek...?(つ･･)つ

(Sorry if I disturbed you too much...)

I couldn't not draw both versions. Recalling how young Leo was always so "EEW!" whenever he saw people expressing romantic love, But I imagine him being king of confidence as an adult.

[librababe99]

Storms of Vengeance

cw: MDNI, 18+, Young! Erik Lehnsherr Mutant! Reader, emotional and psychological manipulation, sexual themes, toxic relationships Word count: 1.6K Summary: You're a powerful weather mutant, caught in the magnetic pull of Erik Lehnsherr, a man consumed by his vision of mutant supremacy. As the storm rages around you, so does the undeniable tension between you both. Will you join him in shaping a new world, or will you resist the storm within and unleash your vengeance?

A/N: Alright no one asked for this.. BUT i'll be honest if young! Charles doesn't have a grip on me its definitely Erik <3 Also yes, I gave the reader similar powers to Ororo (love her btw!). I felt like it worked perfectly, adding to the complexity and moral ambiguity of two powerful individuals "falling in love". I use that loosely...lol...

(Marvel Masterlist)

The wind howled, whipping against your skin as you stood at the edge of the cliff. Below, the ocean churned violently, black waves crashing against jagged rocks. Thunder rumbled overhead, as if the heavens themselves were embroiled in the war that had just taken place. You could still taste blood in the air, feel the adrenaline that had carried you through the battle coursing through your veins.

But the fight wasn’t over. Not yet.

Erik Lehnsherr stood behind you, his presence as heavy as the storm that surrounded you both. He hadn’t said anything since the skirmish ended, but you could feel his eyes on you, as constant and unrelenting as the rain that soaked your clothes. You were a mystery to him, and that made you dangerous.

He had always been drawn to power—first for survival, then for vengeance. And now, his hunger had evolved into something far more insidious: domination. You were his equal in power, though neither of you had admitted it. He could command metal, bend the very earth around him with a flick of his wrist. You commanded the weather—thunder, lightning, wind, and rain—your power could rip apart the sky itself.

It was no coincidence that a storm brewed when the two of you were near. The atmosphere mirrored the tension, the volatile energy that sparked between you. But there was something more beneath the surface, something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

“Another victory,” Erik said, his voice cutting through the wind. He stepped closer, his tall frame casting a long shadow even in the dim light of the storm. “Another step toward our cause.”

The "cause." It was all Erik ever spoke of. The Brotherhood, mutant supremacy, his grand vision of a new world where mutants ruled and humans bowed before them. But there was something in his tone tonight that unsettled you.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating his face in stark relief. His sharp features looked even more dangerous in the half-light, his eyes glinting like steel.

“Is that all this is to you?” you asked, your voice low but strong, cutting through the wind and rain. “Another victory? Another step toward a war you can’t win?”

Erik’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. He stepped closer still, his boots sinking into the wet earth. You could feel the magnetic field radiating from him, pulling on the metal debris scattered around the battlefield. Even the earth seemed to respond to his will.

“We are winning, my dear,” Erik replied smoothly, his eyes gleaming. “The humans are crumbling. Their resistance is futile, and soon they will be nothing more than relics of a past we will bury. You’ve seen it yourself—how they flee before us. They know their time is up.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the storm respond to your growing frustration. The wind picked up, swirling around the two of you, and rain lashed harder against your skin. The clouds above thickened, rolling in darker and more menacing than before.

“And you think that’s victory?” you demanded, stepping toward him, closing the gap between you. “Killing them? Burning their cities? Is that the future you want for our kind?”

Erik’s eyes flashed with something dangerous, something dark and cold that made your breath hitch. He reached out suddenly, his gloved fingers brushing against your cheek, and despite the chill in the air, his touch was almost warm.

“What I want,” Erik said, his voice soft but filled with a dark intensity, “is a world where our kind is no longer hunted. A world where we are no longer afraid. And I will destroy anyone who stands in the way of that future.”

His fingers lingered on your skin, and you felt a pull—like gravity, like the storm itself was reaching out to you, as though Erik’s very presence had somehow woven itself into the tempest. Your pulse quickened despite yourself, and the heat between your bodies grew, like a fire stoked by the raging winds.

“I know you feel it,” Erik continued, his hand slipping to your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His voice was lower now, more intimate. “You know what we could achieve together. You’re powerful—more powerful than you let on. I’ve seen it in the way the skies bend to your will, the way the winds obey your command. We could be gods, you and I. Or…” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Or you can remain my most dangerous weakness.”

You inhaled sharply, the tension between you palpable. His words wrapped around you, tightening like a vice. You knew what he was offering. Power. Partnership. A future forged in fire and blood. Erik wasn’t just asking you to join him—he was asking you to surrender to him. To let him in, to allow the force of his vision to consume you.

The storm surged around you, lightning cracking through the sky, illuminating the battlefield for a split second. You felt the storm respond to your emotions, the air thick with static, the winds howling in tandem with your inner turmoil.

Could you trust him? Could you stand beside him, knowing the darkness that lived in his heart?

Erik’s hand tightened on your jaw, his thumb brushing your lips in a way that made your heart race. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispered, his voice softening. “You and I, we’re the same. We’ve both been broken by this world. But together, we can remake it.”

Your mind screamed at you to resist, to fight back, to remind him that you weren’t his to command. But your body—your body betrayed you. There was something intoxicating about Erik’s power, something magnetic about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered. The storm outside paled in comparison to the storm inside you.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whispered, your voice shaky, betraying the emotions swirling inside. “But I will not be your pawn.”

Erik’s eyes darkened, his hand sliding down from your jaw to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat in a possessive grip. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but the promise was there, the unspoken threat lingering in the air between you.

“Who said anything about being a pawn?” Erik murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I don’t want to control you. I want to unleash you.”

The storm intensified, lightning striking the ground dangerously close to where you both stood. The rain beat down harder, as if nature itself was crying out in protest to the madness that surrounded you. But all you could focus on was Erik—his eyes locked onto yours, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your breaths came in shallow gasps as Erik’s thumb brushed the sensitive skin of your throat, his other hand resting against your waist. The tension was unbearable, the storm inside you colliding with the storm outside. You knew that once you gave in, there would be no turning back.

In that moment, something inside you snapped.

Without thinking, you grabbed Erik’s hand, pulling him closer, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was as violent as it was desperate. The storm answered in kind, thunder booming overhead, lightning splitting the sky in jagged streaks of white-hot energy. Erik responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you with a possessive hunger, as if he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had.

His lips were cold at first, but they warmed quickly, the heat between you building until it felt like the storm wasn’t just around you but within you. Erik’s hands were everywhere—on your waist, on your back, in your hair—each touch sending shockwaves through your body.

You pushed against him, forcing him back toward the cliff's edge, the rain-soaked ground slippery beneath your feet. He let you lead, let you push him, but you both knew he could stop you at any moment if he wanted. This was his power, his control, but for now, he let you have the illusion of it.

When you finally broke the kiss, your chest was heaving, and Erik’s eyes were blazing with something dark and primal. The storm raged around you both, rain drenching your clothes, but neither of you cared.

Erik’s hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him as he whispered in your ear, “Do you see it now? The power we could wield together?”

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the way his words made your heart race, made your blood sing with the temptation of it. You could feel the storm inside you reaching a breaking point, a chaotic force begging to be unleashed.

“I see it,” you admitted, your voice barely audible over the wind. “But I don’t trust you, Erik.”

His grip on you tightened, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, might lose the facade of control. But then, a slow, dangerous smile spread across his face, and he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Trust is irrelevant,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with dark promise. “What matters is power. And you, my dear, have more of it than you realize.”

Before you could respond, Erik’s hand shot out, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another kiss—this one rougher, more demanding. His teeth grazed your lip, and you gasped into his mouth, feeling the raw intensity of his desire radiating from him like heat.

He wanted you—body and power alike. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of it settling deep in your chest.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

The Librarian & The Wolverine ~ The Library

THE LIBRARIAN & THE WOLVERINE MASTERLIST

Word Count: 5,125ish

Request: Logan x fem!reader. Reader is the school's/mansion's library. She's real smart, educated, knows her way around books and stuff, but is not a mutant - it's more like her power is just her being book smart lol. Logan meets her when he's sent to the library to do research for the class he'll be teaching. He spends a few days there doing his research, she helps him finds good sources for his classes, he helps her move some heavy boxes full of new books. She's a little awkward but ridiculously funny, very quiet, always has her head burried in a book. Logan's grumpy but he's funny when he wants to be, he's helpful, he's curious about her interests and thinks her being all smart like that is kinda hot. They have a crush on each other - which develops once Logan keeps coming to the library for more research and to ask for book recs for fun instead of work. They talk about books, he brings her coffee when he comes over for work, she keeps a table always clean for him in a secluded corner of the library. There's a fire at the mansion and the library is damaged, but no one gets badly injured. She's inside the library with some students, she manages to help them get out and then part of the hallway collapses and she's trapped. Logan rescues her but she inhaled a lot of smoke. Logan visits her in the infirmary and brings her a book (some classic romance novel), they make plans to go get new books for the library once reconstruction is done. They go get new books, get some coffee, set up the new library... it all feels like a big date. So Logan asks if they can do it again but now without a fire and now as an official date. She says yes, they go out, choose books for each other, lots and lots of kisses. They're the cutest couple, everyone at the mansion loves them as a couple and think they're the cutest.

Warning(s): injuries, fire

Notes: The reader does have glasses. Also, I would definitely be down with doing a part two with these two.

“Logan, if you’re going to teach history, maybe make sure you understand it all,” Storm said.

“I do understand it,” Logan huffed. “Hell, I lived through most of it.”

She shook her head. “You understand it from your point of view. You might need to head to the library to do some studying this summer before next semester.”

“Library?”

Storm laughed. “Yes, Logan. The library. It’s on the first floor, it’s like the whole right wing. We have a librarian and everything. She’s really sweet. You might even like her.”

So Logan went to the library for the first time. And that’s when he finally met you. You were sitting cross-legged behind the main desk, glasses slipping down your nose, buried in a stack of books taller than some of the students. You didn’t even notice Logan until he cleared his throat loud enough to scare the daylights out of a nearby student.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, looking up at him, glasses skewed on your face. “Sorry, uh— hi! How can I help you?”

Logan stared for a second, caught off guard by how sweet you sounded and how fast you talked. He glanced at the sign on the desk— Librarian: Miss L/N— then looked back at you. “Uh, Storm said I should do some ‘research for the history classes I’m teaching. Can you point me to those sections?”

“Of course!” You hopped up. “History would be aisles six through seven,” you started walking. “Except…” 

You paused. Then you suddenly shook your head and darted into another aisle. Curious, Logan peered down the aisle to see you grab a book and come back and join him.

“Students,” you mumbled, waving the book. “They do try to test me. Anyway, history is aisles six and seven. But if you want government records, then those are eight through ten. Or there’s the good stuff— the personal accounts, diaries, things that feel like people talking instead of textbooks— I’ve got a stash in the room behind my desk.” 

You stopped in aisle seven, which was labeled on the bookshelf, and slipped the book you found into place. Then you led Logan over to a corner table.

“You can do your research here,” you offered. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Then you were gone.

~~~

That night, Logan caught Storm before she headed to bed.

“Hey, ‘Ro,” he called, “how long as that, uh, librarian worked here?”

“For almost a year,” she replied. “Y/N is her name, if you didn’t ask that today. She sticks mostly to the library and isn’t included on any missions.”

“Why? What’s her powers?”

“You could just ask her, you know?”

“Storm.”

“Fine. She kinda has two powers. First, she’s a living index. She can mentally categorize and track the location of any item in her vicinity. Books, objects, even people if she focuses, but that takes a lot of energy from her. She also has something called bibliomancy. She can instantly understand and retain any written material— in any language— just by touching it. And with some focus, she can even see the emotional imprints left on historical documents. It what makes her the perfect librarian.”

Logan nodded, realizing that he had witnessed come of your power in action today.

“She would be a good resource for your lessons, Logan,” Storm said with a smirk. “Or maybe, good for you.” Then she slipped into her room.

~~~

The next day, Logan found the corner desk cleaned up and left with pencils, pens, highlighters, and various sizes of sticky notes. All neatly organized. There was also a book on the desk with a sticky note on it. He leaned over and read it.

A good place to start your research. - Y/N (the librarian)

Logan couldn’t help but form a small smirk across his lips. That’s how it all started. Logan expected to hate being in the library, but somehow you made it bearable. You weren’t pushy, just passionate and kind of ridiculous, in an endearing way. You talked fast when you got excited. You tripped over your words sometimes, apologized too much, and made strange little jokes under your breath that you didn’t think anyone heard. He heard all of them and they made him smirk when he thought about them later.

The corner desk was freshly cleaned and organized each day before he arrived. So Logan begun brining you coffee. You always took it with both hands like it was an extra special gift.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said bashfully, the third day in.

He grunted and looked away. “Didn’t want you fallin’ asleep on the Dewey Decimal System.”

That made you laugh and your laugh tugged at Logan’s heart.

~~~

Logan continued coming daily as the weeks came back. He always said it was to look for more lesson material, but deep down you knew he was coming to see you. Sometimes you’d sit with him when you had nothing else to do. You’d show him the historical documents you had and allowed him insight into your powers. One day, you started ranting about the emotion you felt in a mutant journal you had in the library. Logan simply leaned back and listened like it was the most important thing in the world.

You, in turned, noticed things about him. Like the way he held books gently, like they mattered. Especially if you’d talked about it before. Or the way he pretended to be gruff, but always checked in on those students who were staying for the summer. You caught him reading a book you recommended in the kitchen once, brows furrowed, so into it he didn’t notice you passing by. You smiled for the rest of the day.

Months went on like that, small moments mostly shared in the library. You had helped Logan create a curriculum for his class, yet he still kept coming. Not that you were going to complain. You begun recommending different books to him— not just history— and it shocked you when he read them.

Sometimes, you caught him watching you from the corner where he ‘worked’— books opened, but barely touched. You’d glance up and find him with his arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed like he was studying you.

“You reading me or the book?” You teased.

“I’m pretty sure the book doesn’t taught when I drop a pen,” he grunted. 

You ducked your head, flushed. “I was trying to laugh quietly.”

One time, you were reaching for a massive volume on the top shelf of the archives— precariously balancing on an old wooden ladder— when Logan walked in and just lifted you down without a word.

“Logan!” You yelped. “I had that!”

“Uh-huh,” he said, effortlessly grabbing the book himself. “And sone strong gust of wind would’ve had you in the infirmary.”

You crossed your arms. “You know, for someone who walks into danger for a living, you’re weirdly obsessed with safety.”

He hands you the book with a smirk. “Yeah. When it comes to you, I am.”

You forgot how to speak for a full thirty seconds.

One late evening, you dozed off at your desk— open notebook beside your hand, glasses askew. He found you like that and didn’t wake you. Instead, he took off his flannel and gently draped it over your shoulders. The next morning, you immediately noted the scent of cedar and firewood surrounding you. You kept the flannel with you for the rest of the day.

~~~

It had been a long day. The fall semester had just started and Logan had spent most of it trying to teach a room full of mutant hormonal teenagers why revolutions started. Most of them couldn’t even spell the word revolution. He was one paper cut away from quitting when he stalked into the library that afternoon. Everything immediately softened.

You were sitting at your desk, glasses low on your nose, a pencil tucked behind one ear, and a mug of some lukewarm liquid forgotten beside you. You were writing notes in a notebook with one hand while the other rested on a leather-bound journal. You looked up when you heard him and smiled.

“Rough day?” You questioned gently, noticed how tense he was.

He grunted. “Understatement.”

You nodded. “You want your table?” 

Logan didn’t answer right away, you were already standing. He watched you, the way you moved— careful, graceful in that absentminded way of people who lived half their lives in their own heads.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Table’s good.”

You walked slightly ahead of him, not pressing him to talk. You placed a fresh copy of The Old Man and the Sea on the table like a peace offering.

“You said you liked the way Hemingway doesn’t waste time on flower language,” you said, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “This one’s short. Barely any metaphor.”

He narrowed his eyes at the book. “That code for ‘sad ending’?”

You shrugged. “That’s for you to find out.”

He sat down and you lingered, like you weren’t quite ready to part just yet. And then— out of nowhere— you dropped a little fact like you always did. Something random and useless to most people.

“Did you know Hemingway wrote the last page of this in one sitting?” You said. “He rewrote the rest almost fifty times, but that last page? He never touched it again.”

He stared at you and something clicked inside of him. It wasn’t loud or dramatic or like lightning. It was simply a quiet little truth, settling into place. He was falling for you. For your quiet voice and your messy notes. For the way you lit up talking about old books and dead authors. For your ridiculous facts and your kind eyes and your complete inability to walk past a shelf that’s not perfectly organized. Logan didn’t say anything to you, just looked back at the book.

“You do this on purpose,” he muttered.

You tilted your head. “What?”

“Make me care about this stuff. Books. Characters. History.”

You smiled. “Maybe.”

He huffed and opened the book. You didn’t walk away. You sat down near him, grabbed a different book and began reading. The two of you sat like that for almost an hour. There was no talking, just the soft turning of pages. Logan never felt more at peace. He didn’t know what this was exactly between you, but he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep it safe.

~~~

You didn’t notice at first. It happened slowly— like ink spreading across the page. You were resolving poetry books. Logan was at his usual table, pretending to read. He had one leg propped up with glasses (that you suspected were fake) perched on the bridge of his nose. 

Suddenly, he held up a paperback— some beat-up crime novel you recommended— and muttered, “This guy solves a murder in 200 pages and still makes time to fall in love. What the hell am I doing wrong?”

You snorted, not even looking at him. “Being emotionally unavailable and allergic to open communication?”

You meant it as a joke, he knew that. But he still paused.

Then, quietly, he said, “I’m workin’ on that.”

And your heart— your poor, quiet, book-loving heart— did something completely stupid. It skipped. You looked up. His face was open, honest, and vulnerable. You realized that he meant it. He was trying for you.

That night, after he left,, you sat alone at your desk for a long time. You were falling for him. Not in a dramatic, sweeping way you often read about. But in the quiet and comfortable way that has built up over the months since he first stepped foot in the library. You were falling for the man who carried your books without asking. Who somehow remembered your favorite quotes. Who watched you like you were worth listening to. No one had every done any of that. And that scared you.

~~~

It started on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, a few weeks into the fall semester. The library was humming— low voices, shuffling paper, the soft thud of books. It felt safe, untouchable. You were near the back, working with a few students. One was hopelessly lost in MLA citation. Another was trying to translate Shakespeare into slang. You smiled as you juggled questions, your voice calm and steady.

Then the lights flickered. Once and then again. Everything stopped and everyone looked up. And the the fire alarms screamed. It was the kind of sound that split your bones. It was shrill and immediate and telling you that something was very wrong. The students jumped. Smoke began curling out from the air vents— thin at first, but growing fast. You smelled burning plastic, insulation and wires. It was an electrical fire. Fast, unpredictable, and deadly.

You forced your voice to stay calm even though your hands had gone cold. “We’ve practiced this,” you told the students. “Remember what we do. Single file. Stay low. Go.”

You moved quickly, but not frantically. You were steady and in control. You counted heads and kept your voice even. The students needed calm. If they saw you panic, they’d fall apart.

The smoke thickened and something cracked overhead. You heard a distant explosion, the building groaning under its own heat. Somewhere, a student shouted and another screamed.

“Go!” You urged the students. “Jamie, come on!”

But Jamie didn’t move. The boy stood frozen, near the center aisle, eyes wide with panic. Sparks flickered around his fingers— uncontrolled and crackling. He was overloaded, his mutation reacting to his fear. You needed to get the other students out.

“I’ll be back for you, Jamie!” You shouted, ushering the others towards the exit.

~~~

Logan was in the gym. His wrists were wrapped as he used the punching bag. He was trying to turn through the restless energy that never seemed to leave him. Then he heard the alarms and the screaming.

“Fire!” Someone shouted from the hallway. “In the library!”

His heart stopped. He dropped everything and ran. He didn’t wait for orders or to ask who was helping, because you were in there. And he couldn’t handle if anything happened to you.

The hallways were chaos. Smoke filled the upper floors. Students were pouring down the stairwells, coughing and crying. Teachers shouted orders. Storm shot past Logan in the opposite direction, calling for the mutant students who could help calm the flames. Logan sprinted towards the library. He turned the last corner and saw you. You were shoving the last student through the doorway, soot staining your face, with one arm held over your mouth. Your eyes met his, but you were already turning to head back in. The ceiling had already began to collapse between Logan and the library.

“Logan!” You shouted, voice ragged, smoke already eating at your lungs. “Jamie— Jamie’s still in there!”

He didn’t think or hesitate. “I’m comin’!” He yelled. “Just wait!” But you didn’t. “Y/N— damn it!”

Logan’s claws slid out with a sharp shnk, glinting through the dark. He charged in. The heat hit him like a wall. Wood burned, and the walls and ceilings buckled. He cut through his way and found you a second later, kneeling beside Jamie, trying to coax him with a shaking voice.

Logan scooped the boy up in one arm and ordered, “Go. Now!”

You nodded, stumbling after him, one hand against his back to keep balance. You were halfway to the door when it happened. The ceiling groaned. Logan stopped mid-step. A massive beam broke loose from above. Wood and plaster shattered around it. The beam crashed down between you, throwing you backwards and blocking your path to the exit. The shelves near you tipped, collapsing in a chain reaction, pinning you, one leg trapped beneath splintered shelves, the heavy support beam burning at one end. 

“NO!” Logan roared.

“Logan!” You shouted, voice breaking. “I’m stuck!”

Logan shoved Jamie towards the door. “Someone get the kid!” Then he turned back and charged into the fire. He jumped over the beam and crouched beside you. “Don’t move. I’ve got you. I swear.”

You looked up at him— eyes wide and scared and full of trust. “Please… Don’t— Don’t let me die in here.”

“Never.”

Logan wrapped his arms around the beam. It was heavier than it looked and heating up with the fire. It seared his skin where it touched him, but he didn’t stop. He roared and lifted, muscles shaking. With a final, desperate yell, he threw it aside. You practically collapsed forward into him, coughing violently, body going limp in his arms.

“I got you,” he breathed, catching you. “I got you, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

And then, another crack sounded. The entire floor behind you dropped a foot with a thunderous boom. Logan didn’t think. He scooped you into his arms, turned, and leapt just as the last of the ceiling gave way. The world came down behind the two of you. He hit the ground hard, shielding you with his body as flaming debris rained across his back. Pain flared but his healing kicked in and his grip never loosened. 

“Over here!” Scott yelled. “We’ve got them!”

But Logan didn’t move. He stayed on the floor, arms around you, breathing hard.

“Get me a damn stretcher!” Hank shouted.

You stirred. “Lo—Logan?” You whispered, his name barely making it past your lips.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered roughly. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Your hand curled weakly into his shirt before your eyes fluttered closed again, body sagging. And Logan— battered, bloody, and breathless— held you tighter.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he whispered into your hair, voice breaking. “Don’t you ever…”

They had to pry you from his arms. He followed behind the med team like a ghost— soot-streaked, jaw clenched so tight his teeth shed. His shirt was burned straight through in places, but he didn’t notice or feel it. He only saw you, laying on the stretcher, limp and unmoving.

“You said she’s breathing,” he growled at Hank once you were in the infirmary. “So why the hell won’t she wake up?”

“She inhaled a lot of smoke,” Hank told him gently. “Her body’s in shock. She just needs rest.”

But Logan couldn’t rest. Not while you were laying there with machines practically breathing for you. Not while your cardigan— the one you always wore that had ink smudges on the sleeve— was cut down the middle and tossed in a bin like it meant nothing. You were always so careful, so prepared and so calm. He should’ve gotten there faster.

~~~

Hours passed. The infirmary emptied. Students checked in, then shuffled back to bed with minor burns or bruises. The library and a few offices were the only parts damaged by the fire, thankfully. Everyone said you were a hero. That you kept your head, got the kids out, and went back for one. 

Logan couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t stand the praise. Not when he had the image of you pinned until the burning ceiling like his worst damn nightmare come true. He paced outside your room like a caged animal. Then eventually, he stepped inside. You looked small in the bed, swallowed by white sheets, wires, and tubes. Not to mention, the cast on your leg from where you had been pinned. He finally sat beside you, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

“You should’ve let me get him,” he muttered. “You should’ve run.” 

No answer, just the hiss of the oxygen line. He stared at the floor.

“You weren’t supposed to be in danger,” he continued, voice cracking. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I was supposed to— damn it… I was supposed to protect you.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, fingers digging into his eyes. “I’ve seen a lot of bad things. I’ve seen people die. I’ve killed people. And I’ve walked away from it every time. But I saw that ceiling start to fall and I thought—“ His breath hitched. “I thought, if I don’t get to her, if she dies in front of me—“

Logan couldn’t finish his thought. He looked at you then, really looked. Your lips were parted slightly. Your brow twitched in sleep. Your chest rose and fell so faintly it made his throat close.

“I don’t know was this is,” he whispered, reaching out and gently taking your hand. “You and me. But I need it. I need you.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve lived too long and lost too much to sit here and pretend like I’m not— like you down’t matter to me. You matter so damn much.”

He gave your hand a slight squeeze before standing. He began pacing against, too raw to stay still. 

“I’ve been through wars, Y/N,” he continued. “Literal wars. I don’t panic. I don’t break.” He turned towards you, eyes wild. “But when I heard you scream my name— when I saw you trapped— I didn’t feel like the Wolverine. I felt like a man who was about to lose the best damn thing in his life.”

He paused, letting the silence swallow the confession. Then, slowly, he sat beside you again, taking your hand.

“I’m not good at this,” he whispered. “But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your hand twitched, just barely. He froze and watched your fingers curl ever so slightly around his.

Then your lips moved, cracked and dry. “Logan?”

His head snapped up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

You blinked slowly, eyes hazy but warm. “I knew… you’d come…”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “You’re damn right I did.”

~~~

The first few days after the fire were slow. You drifted in and out of sleep, lungs sore, throat raw, and muscles weak. Logan never left. He dozed in the corner in a chair far too small for his frame, arms crossed like he was trying not to fall apart. He read silently when you slept. Sometimes your favorite books, sometimes books you recommend him. He dog-eared the pages now, though— something you’d once jokingly told him was a criminal offense. You forgave him.

And when you stirred, no matter how late it was, his eyes opened instantly.

“You good?” He would ask, low and gravelly.

You would nod.

Then he’d pour your water, help you sit up, and tuck a blanket around your shoulders like it mattered.

~~~

It took four days before you were allowed to walk with crutches, only for a few feet. Hank suggested that you wait for a nurse. 

Logan shut that down with a grunt. “I’m helping her.”

You leaned on him. You had crutches under your arms and his hand warm and steady against your back. Each step felt like a mile, but he didn’t rush you. He matched your pace without complaint, murmuring encouragement into your head like it wasn’t tearing him up to see you this fragile. 

“You’re doing great, darlin’,” he murmured. “One more step. I got you.”

You did better than expected. Until you caught sight of your reflection in a hallway mirror. You paused and took yourself in. You looked like a ghost of yourself.

“I look awful,” you whispered. 

Logan stepped in front of you immediately. “Hey.” You wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Hey.” He tilted your chin up with two fingers. “You look like someone who ran into a fire to save your students and lived to tell the tale. You look like someone who fought like hell. And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days.” You looked at him, stunned. “I’m not just sayin’ that to be nice.” You leaned into his chest then, and he held you without hesitation. “Let’s sit for a bit. You’ve earned it."

~~~

When you were strong enough to leave the infirmary, the first place you asked to go was the library. Or, what was left of it. Logan pushed your wheelchair through the blackened archway. Most of the debris had been removed. The air still smelled faintly of smoke. One half of the room was under reconstruction, while the other half was a staging area for what survived. Like your desk. It was charred at the corners, but still standing. 

“I thought it would feel worse,” you whispered. “But it just makes me want to fix it.”

Logan smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Then let’s fix it.”

And you did. Not all at once, but slowly and together. Logan handled the heavy lifting— shelving, building, and hammering. You directed, sorted books, and drafted up a new cataloging system from scratch. You insisted on doing it right. He insisted on carrying every single box, even when it meant trips back and forth for hours.

One day, Logan caught you trying to lift a stack of reference books by yourself.

“What did I say about heavy lifting?” He reprimanded, taking the books from you.

You pouted. “That I shouldn’t do it.”

“Exactly. Now go back to bossin’ me around like you’re good at.”

You snored and flopped into the chair he kept beside your desk just for you. “Fine. But you’re doing the labeling next.”

He groaned dramatically. 

~~~

The library was almost finished. The last shelves had been installed that morning. The paint on the walls was fresh, faintly smelling of cedar and hope. Books were still waiting to be shelved— new, old, and salvaged. But tomorrow, the doors would open again. Students would come back into the space. 

Logan found you sitting in the middle of the library— on the floor, back against the last bookshelf, with a half-unpacked box of hardcovers beside you. You weren’t moving. He hesitated behind a shelf at first. He took in the sight of your shoulders hunched forward, hands gripping your sleeves, face buried in your arms. Then he heart the sound, soft and shaky. You were crying. He crossed the room in three strides and knelt beside you.

“Hey. Hey—“ His voice was gentle. “Talk to me.”

You lifted you head slowly, eyes red and glassy behind your glasses. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, wiping at your face with your sleeve. “I didn’t want anyone to see—“

“Too late… what’s wrong?”

You looked around the room. At the new shelves, at your desk that Logan had fixed up, and the corner you claimed for him. “I should be happy… I got it back. We rebuilt everything. But I keep thinking about that day. About how close it was. I smell smoke in the carpet still. I still dream about the beam coming down. About not making it out.”

He was quiet for a beat and then, “You almost didn’t… I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t think or stop. Just ran. And I was still almost too late.” Another tear slipped down your cheek, and Logan caught it with his thumb before you could. “I almost lost you. And I never—“ his voice cracked, “I never told you what you mean to me.” 

Your breath hitched.

“You’re the first quiet I’ve ever liked,” he continued softly. “The first calm I didn’t want to run from. I come in here and it’s like… everything in me stops trying to fight… I kept tellin’ myself I’d wait. That you needed time. That maybe I was imagining it. But then I saw you lying there and I realized…” he swallowed. “I love you.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “I love you too.” Logan froze. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. It was so good— safe. But every time you walked in with a drink or fixed a shelf without being asked or quote Jane Austen just to make me smile—“ you laughed, “I fell a little more.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding that breath since the fire. And then he pulled you in. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, just home. His arms wrapped around you, anchoring you in the silence, and you melted into him, face tucked under his chin. He kissed your temple, then your cheek, and then your lips. It was a soft, slow kiss, full of everything you’d both been too scared to say.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against your lips. “Always.”

You nodded, arms tightening around his waist. “And I’ve got you.”

~~~

The next morning, you stood at the front desk, one hand wrapped around a still-steaming mug of coffee (from Logan, of course), the other smoothing down the table displays you’d been arranging since sunrise. A small vase of fresh flowers sat in the center, also from Logan though he hadn’t admitted it out loud. Just grunted and muttered something about ‘color’ before setting it down.

Logan came back just after seven, leaning in the doorway with a lopsided grin and another coffee in hand.

“You open yet?” He asked.

You smiled. “Always. At least for you.”

He strode over and set his coffee down, then pulled you gently into his arms. His hands curled agains your back, grounding. You leaned into his chest and closed your eyes. You breathing him in.

“Feels different,” you murmured.

“It is,” he said. “You’re mine now.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckled. “Took us long enough.”

~~~

The first few kids trickled in quietly. They looked around with reverence, whispering to each other about how it didn’t even smell like smoke anymore. Then came the regulars. Jamie was the first to say it. He paused in front o your desk and stared at Logan, who was pretending to organize the display table but was actually hanging around way too casually.

“Are you two, like, together now?” Jamie questioned.

You froze, but Logan didn’t flinch.

You cleared your throat. “Jamie—“

“Because if you are, that’s awesome,” Jamie grinned. “You guys were, like, a slow burn romance novel. Everyone knew. You just didn’t.”

Logan gave a small shrug. “Told you we weren’t subtle,” he muttered under his breath.

Jame waved a few other kids over. “Guys! It happened! They’re official!”

Soon, a small crowd of amused, excited students gathered around the front desk. They whispered, giggled, and pointed between the two of you like it was the best gossip of the year. You buried you face in your hands while Logan just crossed his arms and smirked.

“Alright,” he said gruffly, but not unkind. “You got ten more seconds to gawk before I assign everyone a ten-page paper on 20th-century revolutions.”

Groans echoed immediately before they scattered in seconds.

You blinked at him. “You wouldn’t actually—“

“I might,” he shrugged. “But they’re right.”

“About what?”

He reached over and pulled you into him. “You and me? Best damn slow burn I’ve ever read.”

next: The Love >

[shroomaz]

Big arm stretch! Doodles are incoming…with a big Donnie ksjdjdjjd

I wanted to give a pose practice a try with Future Donnie. I mainly wanted to practice the shells and how they work and honestly…not too shabby✨I messed up on the stripes but I’ll get those better over time-

Check out @notjustdragonspages 🫶💜✨

[bones4thecats]

Tmnt 2012 (Leo , Raph ,Donnie ,Mikey)

How do the turtles react to the reader's long-held lie (e.g. she was a foot clan soldier.....take your pick) will they forgive her...or will they hold a grudge and break up with her

(if this violates your guidelines...leave it)

you mean this box?

┗ The Foot?; 2012! Bros × Foot! S/O ┛

Characters: Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2012) A/N: For this, I decided for the lie coming from the reader to be that they are a part of the Foot Clan, but they were forced into it, but the turtles don't realize it. By the way, this does end happily, but is very depressing at the start. Just saying just in case. Anyways, thanks for the request @grandpandacowboynickel, hope you enjoy it! ⇘ Summary: Since the murder of your Clan, you stayed with the Foot Clan. Your life was fine, but when a relationship with a certain turtle comes to light, you must tell him the entire story of your life.

⚠️ Trigger Warnings at start: mentions of genocide, sacrifice, murder, siblings being separated, technical child abduction, and threatening of a child's life ⚠️

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💙❤️💜🧡 Years ago, when you were just ten years old, your clan was attacked. It started off as a peaceful day, but quickly shifted to covered in blood.

💙❤️💜🧡 You stared with fear in your eyes as your father ushered you and your siblings into a trap door in the floor. Your oldest sibling, Genkei, looked at your father and handed your youngest sibling, your only sister, her stuffed rabbit.

💙❤️💜🧡 She smiled and nuzzled the toy and thanked your brother. He smiled and hugged you both before your father kissed your heads and closed the door. Your sister, Tamashini, gripped her rabbit tighter and hugged your leg. You kneeled down and kept her in a hug as you both listened to everything above you.

💙❤️💜🧡 She sniffled as screams began to thin out, leaving the home you once lived in happily, deathly quiet. You shushed her as footsteps came out of nowhere. Tamashini shivered and you just looked around, trying to find someway to get out of here.

💙❤️💜🧡 You then saw a hole downwards, sending her down there silently, she began to run as you guided her through. Tamashini then began to see light ahead of her, and she smiled, saying you guys were going to be safe again. But, the light went away as a figure jumped in front of the woods.

💙❤️💜🧡 She screamed as you grabbed her, trying to pull her back to get away again. That way backwards was then filled with the enemy's soldiers. You hugged your sister as she began to sob.

"What do you want with us?!" You yelled.

💙❤️💜🧡 The soldiers stood silently as you heard metallic noises from behind you. Tamashini squealed in fright as a man with metal spikes all over his body came out from behind the other men.

"I want an answer from you." He began, raising his hand to point at the tunnel you both came from. "One of you goes free and lives to see the next day, or... nobody does."

💙❤️💜🧡 Your eyes widened as you looked at the man and gripped your sister tighter, her doing the same as the man took another few steps up to you both.

"Let my sister live! She's only six years old!" You yelled, staring directly into the man's eyes. "Do whatever you want with me. Leave her out of this."

"Brave attitude for a mere child. I will allow it. Riki, take the younger one to the Chisaka Clan homes. The other one will stay and be my new apprentice."

"Of course, Shredder."

💙❤️💜🧡 Tamashini looked at you as you saw the tall, black-covered man walk up. She nervously held her rabbit as you began to let your embrace thin out to nothing. You smiled gently and kissed her head, handing her a small, cherry-blossom kanzashi.

"I love you, my cherry blossom."

"I love you too, big sister."

💙❤️💜🧡 The spikey man then laid a hand on your shoulder as this 'Riki' guy picked up your sister and began to run off, taking her to this 'Chisaka Clan' home. He looked down at you and said the words that would always live with you throughout the many years under his thumb;

"Welcome to the Foot Clan, Y/N L/N."

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1.) Michelangelo🧡

🧡 Michelangelo is the most understanding among his brothers. He believes in multiple chances, depending on the situation, that is. And, when you confessed to being a member of the Foot Clan. He stared at you wide-eyed. For years he has been against them, only to find out his S/O was one of them? 🧡 You pleaded for him to listen to you and not abandon you like you had been before. He took a deep breath and allowed you to speak, and as you told him about your family and what happened ever since then, he began to understand you more. 🧡 You didn't join the Foot out of your own will, you did it to save your younger sister. He would've done the exact same to save his own family, so who was he to judge? 🧡 He hugged you, tears falling from your eyes as he told you he understood and would find a way to get you out of Shredder's grasp. You thanked him and stayed in his arms for the next few minutes before kissing his cheek and getting ready to leave to rejoin your teammates, Bebop and Rocksteady. 🧡 Just then, Michelangelo grabbed your wrist, pulling you back towards him before saying: "Please, don't go back. Come home with me. You'll be safer with my brothers and father! Please!" 🧡 You smiled and kissed his forehead, making him giggle as you heard Bebop and Rocksteady's voices approaching. "Next time okay?" "Okay..." "I love you, Tangerine." "Love you to, Sweet-Pea!"

2.) Donatello💜

💜 Donatello has more of a logical-look on life, so when the Foot Soldier he was fighting stopped and stared at him and not engaging, he was confused. They always attacked, no hesitation. Why was this one different? 💜 You looked around and took off your mask, revealing your identity to the turtle. His eyes widened as you began to tear up in shame. This was not how you wanted to tell him, but it's not like you could just hurt your boyfriend as if he was nothing to you! 💜 He felt your arms around him suddenly, and he froze in place. He knew you were his S/O, and he loved you, he really did, but... wasn't this... wrong? 💜 Before he knew it, you were grabbed from behind by another Foot Soldier. He held a katana to your throat, calling you a traitor, and, before he knew it, Donatello snapped. He, using his bo staff, ended up sending the Foot Soldier into unconsciousness. The turtle then grabbed you and ran off, trying to get you to safety before the rest of the Foot arrived. 💜 When you reached the lair, everyone wanted answers. They all trusted and cared for you, so why would you hide this from them? 💜 As you told them everything, from your parents to sister and the choice that decided your path of life, Donatello sat beside you, an arm around your shoulders to comfort you. Master Splinter looked at his sons, April, and Casey, before sighing. He laid a hand on your head and embraced you, apologizing for everything that plagued you, before saying you could stay with them. "Thank you, Master Splinter." You said before turning to look at Donnie. 💜 He smiled and hugged you, thankful that you were able to be accepted the same way he wanted you to be. The way that you should be. "I love you no matter what, Sweetheart."

3.) Leonardo💙

💙 Leonardo opened up to you about a lot of things; his training time with his brothers and father, his different types of meditation for different occasions, he even spoke about his conflicts with his family. And, in turn, you did the same. At least, he thought you did. 💙 Casey had managed to grab a Foot Soldier, shocking and pleasing everyone. They struggled in the grasp of ropes tied tightly by Raphael. Leonardo then asked what they were doing and why they didn't seem to engage in any combat against them. 💙 When silence was the only answer he received, he grabbed their mask, only to freeze as they yelled the word no. 💙 He knew that voice. That was the voice of his S/O. But, why would they be in the attire of one of Shredder's many soldiers? Were they spying on him? Using him like a piece in a game of chess? 💙 Everyone looked at him with confusion, they hadn't caught on to who you were yet. Of course, they knew Leonardo had a S/O, but they had never personally met you before this. Great first impression, huh? 💙 Leonardo kneeled down and gently pulled off your mask, leaving your face bare to them all. He then stared into your eyes, his seemingly cold, but underneath it all holding warmth and attempted-hidden love. "Why?" "You wouldn't understand..." "Then let me understand... please." 💙 You sighed and began to tell them everything. You spilled your guts, eventually breaking down into a complete mess when mentioning how the Shredder massacred your entire family, including your mother, father, and older brother. Leonardo looked at you with surprise when you told him why you didn't fight: you didn't want to betray the only family you had left. "Wait... Leo, is this your S/O?" "Former S/O." You corrected. "No. This is my S/O. Everyone, meet Y/N L/N."

4.) Raphael❤️

❤️ When Raphael found out you were being held hostage by the Foot Clan, he wanted to stomp up to Shredder and tear him into nothing. His anger nearly got the better of him. Thankfully, Master Splinter was there to knock the sense back into him. ❤️ Master Splinter told them what to do: stay together as a team, and do not let anything get in the way of getting you home in one piece. They all nodded and left, heading to the abandoned factory that the Foot led them to in bread crumbs. ❤️ Inside, you were being tied up, hanging above Mutagen. You tried to get out of the binds, only for Tiger Claw to nearly shoot you with one of his weapons. Shredder watched you with amusement in his gaze. He was taking pleasure in your fear, the sick bastard. ❤️ Just then, the turtles, April, and Casey bust down the door, running into battle to get you back and safe. Shredder just rolled his eyes and jumped onto one of the walkways beside you, he grabbed your jaw roughly and made you look him dead in the eyes and back at the others below before ordering you to tell them the truth... or you know what would happen. ❤️ They stared in confusion and disbelief as you began to spill your truths. You pushed every white lie and every huge lie out, saying you only did it to keep your younger sister safe for all these years. She was still a child, a defenseless child... what was she going to do if the Foot Clan went after her? ❤️ Raphael looked both shocked and betrayed. You lied to him for so long? But... why? He told you everything, yet you didn't? "I'm sorry, Raphael." "Yes, now, how about we punish this traitor accordingly? Tiger Claw." ❤️ The turtles and humans watched in shock as you were suddenly cut from your rope. You watched blankly as you fell. You deserved this, every lie you told, this was just karma for everything. ❤️ Just then, Raphael had you in his arms. He gritted his teeth in anger at Shredder and readied himself to protect you with his life. "Raph?" "I'm not happy you lied to me, but I'm not upset either. And I swear, I will help you find your sister again. Okay?" ❤️ Your eyes widened in shock and shimmered with adoration as your boyfriend looked around himself at the Foot Soldiers before yelling for them to 'come and get it'. ❤️ You really have a good boyfriend, don't you?