#x-men: the next mutation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cryptictongues · 10 months ago

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The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich.

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face.

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?”

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another.

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that.

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move.

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.”

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.”

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.”

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?”

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear.

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name.

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down.

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent.

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere.

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound.

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?”

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet.

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble.

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place.

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender.

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.”

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.”

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands.

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted.

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close.

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance.

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare.

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got.

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand.

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed.

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down.

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier.

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head.

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth.

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently.

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly.

“Tell me what you see, baby.”

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them.

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure.

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.”

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you.

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface.

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum.

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get.

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only.

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much.

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn.

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love.

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure.

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough.

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit.

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent.

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!”

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs.

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it.

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down.

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected.

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up.

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly.

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior.

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow.

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control.

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle.

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment.

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return.

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you.

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding.

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes.

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this.

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you.

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body.

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more.

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone.

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in.

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff.

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #logan fic #logan smut #x-men fic #my fics

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guardianlegends64 · 25 days ago

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[Closed RP] Hazbin Hotel X Helluva Boss Alternative Love Life in “Double the Badass Double the Hellish Pleasure”

[Note: This RP is an Alternative Love Life which is a Crossover of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss which includes: Romance, Nsfw, Vulgar language, Gore, and Music! Only those who are 21 or Over can Read/View This RP!]

In The Darkest Pits, The Bloody Walls, Tormenting Fires, and the Tortured …The Sinned…And The Damned souls surrounded all Called Hell and there was the biggest City of all Hell called ZiroCity and that city is as big and long as Hell itself and its inhabitants were Demons, Mutated Creatures, and even Feral Beasts and Even Demonic Kings that rule ZiroCity

There were Two Female demon Adults Who were just strolling down the streets of ZiroCity they both saw the Hazbin Hotel where demons can have the opportunity to Rehabilitate and be sent to heaven and then they saw the I.M.P Headquarters and then there’s the biggest Hellish Beach all around the City !

Those Female adult demons were Loona who is a Hellhound and who is [45] years old and Sylvia who is a Hellhound and Wolf Hybrid which was also [45] years old and as they were talking about their Day in work and how they want to go somewhere more different for the Summer season…

Loona who is wearing a Black Leather Jacket with a Hellhound Skull symbol on the back and Black Pants as for Sylvia who was wearing a White leather Jacket with a Black Hellhound/Wolf Skull symbol on the back and Black pants with a chain link the two adult demons were at the same height and same age but very unique personalities…

As the two continue to walk Loona noticed that the two should do something newer together on the surface And that doesn’t care what Blitz has to say about going to the surface to do something different as her Best Friend which was Sylvia nodded in agreement and then…

The next Day Loona “Burrowed” the Grimoire a Book owned by Stolas Goetia to Open up a portal to the human world as Sylvia asked her on how She got the book from stolas as Loona replied that she borrowed it when she and Blitz went to Visit Stolas about an Opportunity and also Stella and Octavia was there in the living room

As Blitz was having a conversation with Stolas as Loona secretly asked Octavia for a favor to burrow the Grimoire Book for a little Trip to the human world with a Close Friend as Octavia gave the book to her secretly with no hesitation as stolas was very busy taking care of his Plant while talking with Blitz about the Huge opportunity as Stella was Drinking her Usual Tea Listening but also was starting to have some suspicions about Loona and Octavia The way they spoke so Softly and Quietly as she walked towards the two and asked them on what they’re doing as Loona was Ignoring her because she was busy on her phone as Octavia said to her mother that she was just talking with Loona about that last job that she participated with Blitz as Stella kept an very close and secretive eye on them both as Loona Explained to Sylvia but Loona didn’t really give a shit and Summoned the Portal…

As the two entered through the portal to a random location which the location that they were in is City of Chicago it was Night and it was the start of summer which means it’s June…

But they didn’t realize where they were going and then Sylvia asked about using their human forms in the Hunan World as Loona Replied to her that she doesn’t really give a fuck and that they can do whatever the fuck they want as Sylvia smiled and giggled as she followed Loona in search of a nearby Bar where they can get drinks and do something newly out of this world or some chaotic situations until they encountered two Adult Men That caught their hellhound eyes…

One of the men’s Name was Riley who has a Messy Black two block hairstyle, Emerald Green Eye color, a 10 pack and is Tall [9”9 ft] and who is wearing casual clothes as he was speaking with his Long time Best Friend about the Adventurous world Exploration that the two have been doing together but was asking a question about if they will ever meet someone that catches their eyes…. Until the two men then encountered the two same female anthropomorphic Hellhounds that caught their eyes too…

As Riley was surprised by the fact that he sees Two anthropomorphic Hellhounds and was utterly speechless at their Appearance of which their bodies were strong and also some parts were Magnificently substantial as the second Friend spoke first and said…

#romance #Helluva Boss #Hazbin Hotel #loona helluva boss

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midniqhtt · 1 year ago

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james ‘logan’ howlett

masterlist • x-men • 11/18/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

two

𑣲 as it was I @ichorai

you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

𑣲 blast from the past I @lune-hime

𑣲 a wolverines heartache I @imaginesforfandom

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

𑣲 feral I @angelltheninth

𑣲 worked up I @loganbcrnes

logan breaks the bed

𑣲 anything I @starryluce

Almost everyone fears Logan but Logan only fears you. His wife that happens to be pretty mad at him.

𑣲 i need you baby I @lilac-mushroom

When you found out that mutants were being chased and attacked, you couldn't stand the thought of Logan, an old friend of yours, being hurt. Upon arrival at the place he was staying at, you found him beaten up and hurting, his healing powers slowed down. Deciding to take care of him, you couldn't ignore the closeness and strong sexual tension felt between you, just like old times. It wouldn't be bad to give in to it... right?

𑣲 above the clouds I @/lilac-mushroom

Flying over to Atlanta for a mission with the X-Men, you sat next to Logan on the plane. But when his hand sneaked to caress the top of your thigh, you were faced with having to decide between sneaking off with him to the bathroom and leaving Logan painfully hard for rest of the flight. Maybe if you tried to be quiet...

𑣲 apologies I @jbreenr

The Wolverine's presence in your life took a turn you did not expect.

𑣲 two wolves, one bunny I @buckylattes

Logan and Bucky have had their eyes on you for a little bit now, and you can’t stand to wait any longer for them to finally make a move. So you make a move of your own and finally, you all get what you’ve been wanting.

𑣲 next door neighbor I @/buckylattes

Your next door neighbor, Logan, has been trying to get your attention for a while now, but he fears that he’s taken the whole situation the wrong way. Will you ever give him a chance?

𑣲 possessive I @/buckylattes

Logan is always very possessive of you, his girl, but you can’t really be mad at him even if you try.

𑣲 untangle me I @buckyownsmylife

The one where once it becomes clear that Logan is your alpha, he’s the one left pining

𑣲 first burn I @/buckyownsmylife

The one where Logan is so crazy to make sure that everyone knows you’re his, that he fucks you in front of everyone.

𑣲 prom I @loving-barnes

𑣲 a little game I @/loving-barnes

𑣲 touch me like nobody else does I @galatially

you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air.

𑣲 in love with the wolverine I @ellana-ravenwood

𑣲 sunshine and flowers I @hannibals-favourite-meal

Logan has had a great many loves in his long life and he’s over it. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else yet somehow, the annoying and very much younger art teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, wormed her way into his heart.

𑣲 the way back home I @/hannibals-favourite-meal

After months of being apart from each other, he’s finally back in your arms

𑣲 worst possible decision I @/hannibals-favourite-meal

How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

𑣲 body swap I @make-me-imagine

reader and wolverine get body swapped, and the reader just so happened to be on their period when it happens + them having to deal with each others mutations.

𑣲 wolverine x reader I @carry-on-wayward-sun

𑣲 it should have been me pt2 I @wolfdeamonghoul

Bucky and you had a good relationship, until he felt like didn’t need you anymore and so he breaks up with you and starts dating Natasha soon after. It only takes seeing you walking down the aisle, saying your ‘i dos’ to someone else for him to realize his mistake.

𑣲 what a tease I @/wolfdeamonghoul

you tease Logan too much that he begins to pleasure himself

𑣲 sexting I @/wolfdeamonghoul

𑣲 breed out I @holylulusworld

you woke the animal in wolverine.

𑣲 bed sharing I @/holylulusworld

“Can you do ‘bed-sharing’ with Wolverine? He’s grumpy and you believe he doesn’t like you, but he can’t stop himself from sniffing at your neck and it can be smutty or just fluff. You decide.”

𑣲 cranky I @/holylulusworld

Your boyfriend is cranky in the morning.

𑣲 newbie I @kgficz

Logan had arrived at the X Mansion only a few days ago, finding it difficult to adjust. One night when he can’t fall asleep, he finds you awake in the kitchen and strikes up a conversation.

𑣲 back in time I @/kgficz

Set in Days of Future Past; Logan has lost everything, he has lost you. He’s finally been sent back in time to change the future. How can he keep his head straight when he travels back and sees a younger you?

𑣲 logan training I @imyourbratzdoll

logan and the reader end up training in another... more fulfilling way.

𑣲 labels I @mlmxreader

you and Logan discuss your relationship over a beer.

𑣲 the last goodbye I @trickstersteve

𑣲 just a dance I @lipstickandvibranium

Logan wasn’t fond of parties, but he was fond of her.

𑣲 i guess you didn’t cheat, but… I @youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms

𑣲 request I deactivated account

𑣲 grumpy x sunshine I @inkdrinkerworld

𑣲 mutant!reader I @/inkdrinkerworld

𑣲 forever winter I @luna-writes-stuff

After a rough mission, you lost a handful of students. Trying to sleep off your concussion, Logan retreats to the kitchen, coping in his own ways. You encounter him late at night, and remember him that there is no need for him to deal with this alone.

𑣲 obsessed with wolverine I @gallavichsreddie1128

𑣲 sugar, sugar I @eupheme

Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.

𑣲 come on and show me I @/eupheme

𑣲 your kiss is on my list I @/eupheme

𑣲 the honda odyssey I @coweye

The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

𑣲 the worst logan part 2 I @/coweye

You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life

𑣲 all coming back to me I @heartlogan

logan didn’t realise you would be here in the past. all that follows.

𑣲 the story ends I @/heartlogan

the day that logan lost you

𑣲 request I @gay-dorito-dust

logan reuniting with reader

𑣲 heart made of glass I @moonlight-prose

you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.

𑣲 home video I @little-miss-dilf-lover

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett angst #logan howlett oneshot #wolverine #wolverine x reader #x-men #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #wolverine imagine #logan x reader #james howlett x reader #james howlett #james howlett imagine

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triptuckers · 10 months ago

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kissing it better - logan howlett

Request: nope Pairing: logan howlett x reader Summary: based on this post by @sarahsmi13s Warnings: nothing but tooth rotting fluff ugh I love logan Word count: 1K A/N: this post… yes.. also logan deserves some soft love <3 enjoy!

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slow, domestic mornings with logan are few and far in between. it’s why you cherish every one you get.

life in the mansion is hectic, to say the least. even if you would take away everyone’s mutant abilities, there’s still a couple of dozen kids with a lot of energy swarming the place.

but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you’d been one of those kids once. unsure of your place in the world, scared, not knowing who you could trust.

like many young mutants, you caused chaos and pain when your mutation manifested. your own parents were afraid of you. and then the professor showed up at your house and told you about his school.

you’ve spent many years here now, teaching the children while also being a member of the x-men. you finally have a place where you belong, where you feel safe and at home. where you have friends and family who care about you.

meeting logan was only the cherry on top.

from the moment you met him, you’d been curious about him. one day you were teaching your class as usual, the next moment there was a guy with anger issues and adamantium claws in your classroom.

at first you were stunned, as were the students, but you introduced yourself and told him to take a seat once he explained the professor thought it was a good idea for him to know what life at the mansion would be like.

ever since, he’s been sitting in on a lot of your classes. you thought it was because he was interested in the topics, but later on he confided in you that your voice and presence soothe him.

after that conversation, logan was around you often. to learn about the mansion, he said, but you knew better.

the more time you spent with him, it became obvious he came to you when he needed to calm down. he didn’t need you to talk to him, just needed to be near you.

sometimes you would talk. it was mostly you who did the talking, though. you told him about your childhood, how you met the professor, your time at the mansion as a kid, teasing scott about jean when you were a teenager. and then you told him about the missions you went on with your fellow x-men, the classes you taught the children, how they continued to surprise you every day.

and slowly, as logan started to trust you more, he told you about his life. what it was like years ago, what he went through. you wanted logan to open up to you on his own, but you couldn’t deny you were curious about him and his life. sometimes you couldn’t help it.

you were cradling one of his hands, taking a closer look at his knuckles as you sat on the edge of your desk. the classroom was empty, the students long gone. but logan was still there

you feel logan’s gaze on you, but you continue to study his hand. turning his hand over in yours, examining it.

‘you really can just get them out whenever you want?’ you ask him.

‘yeah.’ says logan.

‘can I see them?’

logan briefly hesitates. no one’s ever asked him that. most people who have seen his claws up close didn’t live to tell the story. but you’re being so gentle with him, he does as you ask.

you drop your hands as he pulls his arm away slightly. then he slowly lets his claws come out. you watch as the skin between his knuckles splits as the adamantium blades slice through.

you briefly look up to logan and notice how he clenches his jaw slightly.

‘does it hurt?’ you ask him. ‘when they come out?’

logan looks down at you. at this fellow x-men, a teacher, a lover. no one has ever been this patient and gentle and loving with him.

‘every time.’ he says, looking at the way you’re holding his hand.

it had been a long time since logan had slept in his own room. what few belongings he had, he added to your room. but because the mansion life was a busy life, you rarely get to enjoy each other’s presence like this.

logan is still asleep. his breath tickles the back of your neck. one of his arms is lazily swung over your body, the other beneath your head. you love waking up like this, safe in his embrace.

you reach out and softly run your fingers over his knuckles. it’s remarkable how fast his skin heals.

your touch wakes logan, who stirs behind you. now that he’s awake, you turn around in his arms so you can bury your face in his neck. logan pulls you closer, wanting to go back to sleep.

he feels how you take a hold of his hand and move it. then he feels something on his knuckles. he opens his eyes and sees you pressing soft kisses to the skin between his knuckles, right where the tips of his claws rest beneath his skin.

logan has never been the romantic type. but he swears he feels his heart burst with the amount of love he feels for you. you’ve kissed him before, obviously. but not like this, not on his knuckles.

‘what are you doing?’ he asks, voice still laced with sleep.

you briefly look up at him before you move to get a hold of his other hand, bringing it up to your lips.

‘you said it hurts every time they come out.’ you explain. ‘I’m kissing it better.’

logan’s lips part in surprise, before smiling at you.

‘you’re gonna do this every time they come out?’ he says.

you nod. ‘yes. you said it hurts every time. so I’ll kiss it better every time.’

‘you’ll be busy for the rest of your life, then.’

‘that’s okay. I don’t plan on going anywhere.’

logan leans in and presses a soft kiss against your lips. with his forehead against yours, he drifts off to sleep again. feeling the occasional kiss against his knuckles.

A/N: thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3 much love, marit

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yoditopascal · 10 months ago

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Cocoa Butter

bodyguard! logan howlett x boss’ daughter reader

summary: He’s the best there is at what he does but what he does isn’t always very nice.

content warning: mutual pining, scenting, scent kink, age gap, size difference smut, p in v, slight innocence kink towards the end??, violent behavior (logan beats a guy up for you and it kinda turns you on), MINORS DNI

a/n: This was definitely inspired by that one gif of him from DOFP

Logan swore he wouldn't fall to his knees for a pretty little young thing like you. With your big doe eyes, soft curves and that cute little ass o’ yours that you always had wrapped up in those tiny little short shorts. He couldn’t, you were the boss’ daughter after all, but when you swayed your hips and batted your lashes at him like that… god was it tempting. You were just so inviting and deliciously sweet.

Like heaven wrapped in gold foil and lip gloss. Your dad’s guys used to joke to him about you, that is until he beat the shit outta one of them.

Now most of them don’t even make eye contact with you.

Good, he preferred it that way anyways.

His heart beat rapidly in his chest, the possessive streak he felt for you flaring up as he watched you converse with the guy at the bar that had been buying you drinks all night. The guy no doubt had no idea who you were, or who he was for that matter.

Five drinks in and he was practically itching for a fight, hoping that the motherfucker you were laughing with like he was the funniest bastard in the world would slip up and do something so he could take him out back and show him what happens when you mess with what’s his.

His.

You weren’t anyone’s you liked to remind him.

He knew you could handle yourself, you were more than capable of holding your own and you’ve told him plenty of times that he hovers too much, so why was he getting all antsy over this guy?

Logan swore he wasn’t a jealous person, never had a reason to be, until he met you, but watching everyone watching you for the past few hours while you smiled and laughed and danced like you didn’t give a shit about anything, had him ready to kill the next guy who breathed at you wrong.

Maybe it was the few drinks he had but he could have sworn he saw you look over at him a couple of times too.

Like you were doing this on purpose.

What he didn’t know was that he was the reason you were so confident and carefree. His presence alone was your peace. He was your scary dog privilege. It was nice to know that someone had you.

One of your dad’s men annoying you? He’ll handle it.

Some guy at the bar can’t take the hint? Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Logan’s got it.

He was your dad’s most trusted guy and he was the best there is at what he did and what he did? Well it wasn’t always very nice.

Ignoring the growing urge to go over there and drag you away, Logan throws back the rest of his drink, whiskey on the rocks, and flags the waitress in the black cocktail dress down for another.

Taking a drag from his cigar, the ones he’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to have in the club but who the fuck was brave enough to tell him he couldn’t have it, he tears his eyes away from scanning the room when he hears you.

Your voice is soft as you politely reject the guy, so soft you almost couldn’t hear it over the shitty music and the buzz of people in the crowd around him, if it wasn’t for his mutation.

Apparently this greasy ass clown can’t take the hint as his hand clamps down harshly around your wrist pulling you closer to him as you try to pull away.

He’s on his feet before he can register what he’s doing.

He tries to tell himself you’re totally capable of holding your own, you can snatch your arm away and tell the guy off yourself but when he sees the shit stain lean in to kiss you and raise a hand as if to strike you when you turn away, Logan is seeing red.

In the blink of an eye he’s already across the room dragging the guy off his stool and out the back. His fist meets his mouth first, teeth cutting the skin of his knuckles but he doesn’t care. Bone crunches on bone as Logan continues to beat the guy into an unrecognizable barely conscious mess.

He doesn’t stop until he feels your delicate hand brush up against his back, and he turns to look at you.

You stand behind him as he turns until you’re damn near chest to chest, pupils blown wide as your eyes bore up into him from below his chin. Even in your highest heels you still don’t quite reach him. The guy groans in pain from the ground beneath your feet but neither of you care, far too wrapped up in each other to even notice he’s still there bleeding out.

"Can't make my job easy, can ya kid?" He smirks down at you wiping at his nose with a bloody hand.

He goes to say something else but it catches in his throat when he catches a whiff of something in the air.

God he could smell you.

“You doin ok darlin’?” He asks, voice sultry as he leaned closer to you inhaling.

This is dangerous territory, he knows it and so do you but neither of you can bring yourselves to care in the moment. It’s one you’ve both been skating around for months now.

“Y-yeah I just-“ you start biting your lip as you lose yourself in thought for a second.

“You ready to take me home big guy?” You ask, still biting that god damn lip between your teeth as you look up at him through your lashes like you always did when you wanted something from him.

“Always.”

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

When you get to your apartment he’s already on you, not even giving you a chance to get through the door fully. His mouth carving a path from your neck to your mouth as he walks you backwards towards your room, pushing you down to the bed beneath you as he wraps himself around you.

He clings to you, hands grabbing your hips as he grinds himself into you, nuzzling his nose into your neck, taking in deep greedy draws of your scent. Shea and cocoa butter mixed with the tantalizing aroma of you. Always that goddamn cocoa butter. He could cover himself in your scent if he could and it still wouldn’t be enough for him.

You're a whiny squirming mess as he kisses up and down your neck, one of his hands squeezes at your tits. He’s barely touched you and could already smell how wet you were, just for him.

Pulling away Logan looks down at you, eyes half lidded as he strokes a calloused thumb over your soft swollen bottom lip.

You had dick sucking lips, one of the guys had told him his first week here. He shattered his bones with just his fists, now the guy walks with a limp.

He didn’t want the think about that now, not when your hands we’re tangling themselves in his shirt. With a latch he pulls his shirt over his head as he watches you fumble with his belt biting your lip. He leans down to take it in his mouth once more before he’s shedding himself of his pants and underwear pulling yours off with them.

He wraps a heavy arm around your back bringing you to his chest as he puts you on his lap, the hem of your pretty little dress hiked up over your ass, as he nestles his big cock deep inside you. He sinks his teeth into your neck and the flesh of the slopes of your chest as the straps slip further down your shoulder with every thrust of his hips.

“Logan...” Your voice came out as a whimper as he trails his hand down to grip your ass.

“You doing alright sweetheart?” Logan asks between thrusts. He knew it was too much for you, but it was what you asked for, and who was he to deny you anything you asked for.

Reaching behind you he unzips your dress before he’s yanking it over your head, your bra soon joining in the growing pile of both your clothes on the floor. Never missing a beat as he kept plunging into you.

He’s so fucking big, and he knows it too as smirks into your mouth. He’s moving like a younger man. Not that you really even wanted anyone your age. Guys your age didn’t know what to do with a gal like you.

“Easy princess, eyes on me.” He said as your eyes start to close as you lose focus, he knew you were close by the way your gimpy walls kept fluttering around him. Grabbing your face with one hand he forces you to look him dead in his hazel eyes as he keeps up his pace. He pulls you into a searing kiss as he releases your face with a dark chuckle before grabbing both your hands in one of his.

“Keep ‘em here for me.” He says placing your hands over his shoulders as he lays you back on the bed as he locks in, the bed’s frame creaking beneath you at the strength of his thrusts, the headboard hitting the wall behind you with equal force.

Your neighbors were definitely gonna have something to complain about in the morning.

A chill runs down your spine when you feel him exhale a strangled breath into your neck, as he reaches down to rub fierce circles into your clit. He was getting close too.

Glancing down, a smile settles on his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt gripping him in its tight wet hold before he pulls away and settles back in again. He could watch himself disappear in and out of you all night if he could. He teases you as he continues his assault, calling you all types of sweet nothings as he watches your face contorts in pleasure as you clumsily try to keep up with him.

Your moans become muffled as you press yourself against him. That tight coil in your stomach tightening ever so slightly threatening to explode. Goosebumps prickling your skin as you shook violently against him as you finally let go dragging him along with you with a harsh grunt, nails digging into him desperately, most likely drawing blood.

“I know, baby. I gotcha.” He coos rubbing at your sides as you cry out, eyes glazed over with fresh tears. He pauses his movements for a moment to give you a minute but literally only for a minute before he’s back on you kissing and sucking down your neck before he pulls away.

“Hey look at me, kid.” He huffs as he leans down to kiss you. “We’re not done yet.”

“B-but you already-!” You start but are cut off by a moan that’s bubbled up into your throat as you feel him, still hard, as he starts back up again.

“We’re done when I say we’re done.”

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

Logan’s ripped from his sleep by the sound of your front door opening and closing. Before he even has a chance to attempt to get up, your bedroom door opens suddenly, hitting the wall behind it with a soft thud.

“What the fuck!” Said one of your dad’s men as he stared at the two of you in shock. Another one came flying into the room behind him, gun drawn, until he catches sight of you, he looks back and forth between the two of you before he casts his eyes to the ground, going to pull the other guy out of the room with a visible limp.

“You wanna keep your mouth shut?” Logan hisses voice still laced with sleep as he pulls the sheets further up to cover your back. Thank fuck you were a hard sleeper when you were really tired.

“I-I’m sorry man it just-“ the first man starts to stammer as he asks unceremoniously “Did you really have sex with her?!” Smacking a hand over his own mouth just as shocked, but definitely not as pissed as Logan, was that he had said that, he stumbled to follow his companion out the room.

It’s here at your little table in the middle of your kitchen, that Logan finds the two goons. They both jump to their feet at the sight of him, one albeit faster than the other.

“What the fuck are you two clowns even doing here?” Logan said gently, closing the door behind him. His pants resting haphazardly on his hips.

“She never checked in last night after leaving the club like she usually does,” the other guy says, turning away as Logan went to zip up his pants. Of course, how could he forget how much of a good girl you were. “Boss was worried, gave us a key and everything.”

“Yeah sorry man! If we woulda known-“ the other chimed in, his voice was starting to grate on his nerves.

“Did you really sleep with her, Logan?” The other guy cuts him off. He’s staring Logan dead in his eyes to answer him so he could run off and tell the boss, like he actually had anything on him. He was challenging him and he’d be damned if he let him get away with it.

“I did yeah, the fuck are you gonna do about it?”

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x black reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x black reader #wolverine #days of future past #x men #x men imagine #x men x reader #x men x black reader #hugh jackman #x men movies #x men days of future past #xmen dofp #dofp

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logansdoll · 11 months ago

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

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

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

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

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

contingency

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

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

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

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

Why couldn't he just remember?

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

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

Something crucial.

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

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

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

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

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

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

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

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

'Fuck it.'

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

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

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

Yet he knew he wasn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So home-like.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No..."

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

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

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

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

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

"I can't..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She can't..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could he have ever forgotten you?

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

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

He could remember so clearly now.

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

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

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

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

Logan couldn't find the words.

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

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

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

#james howlett #james howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #wolverine x reader #x men #x men x reader #wolverine

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sh1-n0bu · 1 year ago

Text

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙥𝙩2 ✿

characters: penacony men x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor attempt at comedy, slight spoilers for some character story and 2.2 penacony quest, injury and blood mention

notes: another popular demand! this time with more cat bois!!! part 1 can be found here! tho this can be read as its own part too. genshin boys ver is here!

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

you just can’t keep yourself away from taking in random strays that are an absolute shit to you huh, [name]?

his breed? orange. that’s it, that’s the breed, what more do you want me to say? jk but he’s still orange. american shorthair orange me thinks. friendly, adaptable, easygoing, playful, good with children and other pets — a perfect american shorthair orange

you first found the poor thing at the streets, hiding under a vehicle, too scared to come out or any approaching humans. sweet cat had a broken limb, holding the dangling paw to his chest as he pathetically meowed

thankfully, you managed to scoop the orange cat up into your arms, wrapped up in your coat before rushing him to the nearest vet

since then, nyanturine has made his progress to be your next addition to an ever growing collection of cats

a strangely crow like cat. nyanturine likes shiny, expensive things. shiny rocks? his. shiny clothes? his. material that glitters? his. expensive earrings and diamonds? his. expensive jewelries? his. everything shiny and expensive that the orange cat lays his eyes upon is his now. pretty please, [name] buy him that earring for him to play with?

out of every cats at home — you sure your home isn’t a daycare for cats? — nyanturine gets along the most with dr.nyatio and occasionally with nyelt. the orange and brown cats can be found chatting away, peacefully settled on the windowsill

not so surprisingly, nyanturine is chatty as every orange cats are, except he needs to get used to the human first before turning into a yapper. with you, it only took a week spent in your arms for nyanturine to get used to your presence

just sit him beside you on the table behind his own mini computer with one of his favorite shiny earrings laid before him while you do your work on your own computer and nyanturine will be chatting your ear off in a storm. though, his yapping sometimes tends to irritate the other cats. dr.nyatio being one of them as you watched the bigger cat jump into the table before smacking nyanturine over the head with his paw

you were pretty sure you witnessed an attempted homicide between cats that day…

surprisingly, nyanturine also likes games! card games, poker, monopoly, uno. don’t ask how but somehow you once got bested by your damn cat when nyanturine placed down +10 on you at uno. you nearly ended up behind bars if it weren’t for meow yuan’s big floofy body holding you down—

he will push all of the tokens in front of him towards the table with a meow. sometimes, you swear you can hear “all in!” in his meows but maybe that’s the ghosts in your home talking

out of every cats you housed and still do till this day, nyanturine has the most unique eyes. cyan blue on the inside fading out into a pinkish hue. when asking about it from the vets, all they could do was shrug and say it could perhaps be a very unique ocular albinism or dna mutation. either way, your cats are a fucking model

nyanturine loves the mini fedora hat you made for him as a joke. wears it nearly everyday, every time, anywhere unless he accidentally knocks it over when zooming around the house

a solid kitty if you can get behind the creepy gloving of his eyes in the dark and his tendency to win against you in every poker games

art credit goes to nasuka_gee on twt!

you first found dr.nyatio by… huh? whatchu mean you didn’t found him? you’re telling me he just waltzed his ass inside your home one day through the window and has been making himself one of the many feline bosses of the house just like that? you sure dr.nyatio isn’t anyone else’s cat? [name]? [name], answer me…

well… whatever floats your boat i guess…

the most sassiest out of all of the fucking cats and that is saying something because you literally have nyan heng and meow yuan

a bengal, me thinks. snow lynx type of marbled tan and brown bengal. a smart piece of shit and he knows it, always yapping your ears off about a certain topic. more specifically, anything to do with algorithm, geometry etc etc

but compared to nyanturine and meowhill, dr.nyatio only ever yaps about those topics and those topics only. oddly enough, he kind of reminds you of one of those annoying lecturers at your old university…

very very curious cat. what’s up there? why are you late? what did you bring? what’s inside your bag? why do you smell so different?

pause.

why do you smell so different, [name]? where have you been? who have you been with? why are you later than usual, [name]? [name] answer him. answer dr.nyatio right now before he loses his shit—

oddly likes bathing time compared to the other cats. though, dr.nyatio is a diva when it cones to taking his baths. the water must be lukewarm, not too full so when he sits in the bathtub, the water will be around his low chest area. the bath must have bubbles and those cute yellow ducks floating around or he will not step inside the bathroom

do you think of him as a low class cat? how dare you, [name]

yeah… safe to say that dr.nyatio spends more money on shampoo, hair treatment than you do

gets along with every cats actually. other than nyanturine. the two tend to scuffle sometimes. and sometimes, you can find dr.nyatio just yapping away to the other cats while he points at… an encyclopedia? since when and where did he drag that out from?

dr.nyatio has an odd hyper fixation and obsession with ancient greek things. anything related to them and the cat is not leaving the site or the front of the screen, patiently watching and listening to the documentary about ancient greek and its architectures and impact in the field of mathematics

once, you decided to bring him along to your local clay making club for shits and giggles, making a mini ionic order pillars and he fucking loved it. loves to sit in the middle of the curved placed pillars and have his pictures taken like a model

dr.nyatio also loves the cute cat helmet like thing you made for him from plastic diy materials. it works as something akin to a mask for him and the bengal loves wearing it whenever you have to step outside with him

once, one of your friends who came over at your home asked you why you named dr.nyatio that way

“is he a doctor or something? what field is his research then?” they asked, unknowingly opening a jar of worms upon themselves. you simply opened up dr.nyatio’s favorite encyclopedia in front of your friend as the bengal cat takes his place, starting to yap up a storm as the cat points to random parts of the book

after a good hour or two, your friend turned to you for help, quietly coming to regret their decision. dr.nyatio didn’t take that kindly, smacking your friend’s face back to focus on him with his soft paw before continuing

yep. doctor veritas nyatio, everyone

“meaw! [name], mrrp ammmeow mrrep mrrya! you will refer to me as doctor and doctor alone!”

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

a very demanding grey korat breed of cat, mr.meowday is

he isn’t much talkative nor is he much affectionate. but what meowday is, demanding and loves control. you once asked your local vet for advice after months of the grey korat telling you exactly how to make his food, which kibbles to buy etc etc and the vet simply reassured you with a “korat breed of cats tend to be a bit demanding and intelligent. they love to be in charge so don’t worry” and a pat on the back

yeah… you have yourself another demanding cat that loves to make you his human slave alongside dr.nyatio. don’t you think you have enough cats reigning over you in your own home now, [name]?

you adopted the poor thing from a shelter near your workplace when you heard the poor thing constantly crying out. when asking the shelter workers, they said that the cat tends to do that at random hours of the day, just calling out for attention from someone or a certain something

taking pity on the poor lonely korat sitting in the corner of his cage with his back to the world, you decided to adopt him, making yet another dumb decision

really loves sundays for that is one of the days that you have time to spend the whole day at home with the cats. and you also love to dub the last day of the week as ‘lazy day’ and therefore, you decided to name him after it. meowday, he was since then

still, even after months of living with you and the other cats, meowday still sits on the window sling, meowing out for someone or something as he wistfully stares out the window. poor cat… you’re still having some problem trying to understand what was the problem and why meowday would do that so you can at least comfort the poor thing

one day while you were showing your co-workers who loves cats as well of your cats and landed on meowday. seeing the grey, elegant korat, your co-worker asked over and over if that really was your cat

you nodded with a furrowed brows, finding it odd that your co-worker would ask such questions. until they whipped out their phone, scrolling through their gallery before showing you… an eerily similar korat

same shade of eyes, same pose, same elegant manner — you would nearly mistake it for your own cat if it weren’t for the slight shade of white grey of your co-worker’s cat fur

a korat as well. from the same animal shelter you adopted meowday too!

after careful consideration and a lot of talk, you two decided to let the two felines meet on the weekends to see if they are perhaps lost siblings, parents or anything along the lines

finally, the day arrives and your co-worker comes over. a carrying bag slung over their shoulder as they step inside. meowday could barely care for your human companion coming over, it happens all the time and he had grown used to the presence of visitors unlike some of the other cats

until he hears a soft meow that sounded eerily similar to his sister. whipping his head around, meowday nearly broke his paws due to his sudden rough landing from the window sling, practically zooming over before tackling the smaller korat to the floor

sad yet happy meows coming from meowday, grooming the other cats’ face with loud constant meows. you were pretty sure that your co-worker’s cat was meowday’s sibling now

ever since then, the grey korat constantly scratches at your feet, doing his utmost best to silently ask you to let him see his sister again, nearly everyday. please just allow him to see his sister, he had dearly missed her. please, he will be a good kitty! the best kitty in the house!

meowday could barely go a day without glooming if he doesn’t see his sister, and so you and your co-worker arranged a weekly meetings and a video call everyday to allow the siblings to meow to each other through the screen

art credit goes to Flambo_19 on twt!

is it a mini panther? is it a dog? no! it’s just your one of the most chillest cats, gallagnya

he’s a havana brown like nyelt— wait a minute, what do you mean he wasn’t a havan brown like nyelt? you sure you got it correctly? the fur sample? huh…?

“gallagnya is actually a bombay cat. brown bombay” you can hear the vet on the phone, your face immediately going pale at the news of what breed gallagnya truly has been all this time as the said cat stares at you with a “mhm. that’s right” face from the kitchen counter

why? what was the reason you were suddenly going pale you ask? you were so sure that gallagnya was another havana brown like nyelt and has been feeding him nyelt’s kibbles for havana brown. in simpler terms, you’ve been feeding gallagnya the wrong kibbles

very wrong kibbles

but don’t worry, gallagnya is a chill cat and he immediately forgave you with a lick to your forehead the next day you came home crying with a bunch of treats and the correct kibbles for the shaggy, brown cat

gallagnya isn’t exactly a mean cat but he enjoyed the look of jealousy and anger on the other cats’ face as you pampered him day in and out for giving him the wrong kibbles. the bombay cat secretly hoped that you spent a little bit longer without knowing his exact breed so you could pamper him more. eh, oh well

the main reason your vet had a hard time finding out exactly what breed he was is because bombay cats aren’t the most easiest to spot or find out. it’s a bit hard to detect them and their breed since they are a human bred cat breed

but at least you have another big cat! third biggest cat after lion like meow yuan and cheetah like nyepard. safe to say you feel safe as hell whenever you go out for a quick walk with your three big cats

another funny thing about the story between you and gallagnya is that… you genuinely don’t know where the fuck the large cat came from. did he follow you home? did he slip in through the open window one day and made himself home? who knows. not you

at least gallagnya is chill. and nice. gets along well with basically every cat except for mr.meowday— “WOOF!”

“eh, it’s probably just the neighbor’s dog going out for a walk in the hallways of the apartment—“

“WOOF!” before you could finish your little excuse for the barking you just heard, you feel the heavy big body of gallagnya pounce on top of you on the bed, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs

… great. not only do you have hundreds of cats inside your home, three of them being nearly as big as predator wildlife animals, you have to worry about the third biggest cat being a barker rather than a meower

when and where the fuck did gallagnya even learned to bark rather than meow anyways? eh, that’s a question for you to find out next morning. right now, you were too damn tired and your bed was a siren that you willingly gave yourself to

you did not found out the answer to that question the next morning. even the vets were weirded out by it since, although bombay cats are indeed seen as dog-like with their playful and friendly nature, they never cane across one that literally barked like a dog

well… at least you can scare people away with gallagnya’s barks…?

art credit goes to Hanres4 on twt!

the siamese mom in me wants to say that meowhill would be a siamese, but the logical brain in me is shouting TUXEDO CAT

and yes, meowhill is indeed a tuxedo cat. one that just won’t shut up and leave you alone

going to the bathroom? let him come along and get real political while lying on the bathroom rugs while you take a shit

leaving for the convenience store? just let him stay on your shoulder while he yaps your ears off about which seasoning to pick— no, screwubaBOO THE KOREAN SOY SAUCE TASTES BETTER ON BARBECUE!

staying home and trying to type up your work on the computer? you have a free proofreader for you who wouldn’t hesitate to meow your ears off and point at some of the things you wrote. he will even sit on your keyboard

due to his yapper nature, meowhill tends to irritate some of the cats. especially those who love their peace and quiet and staying silent

which is a huge surprise whenever you find the mischievous tuxedo cat constantly beside nyan heng, the poor black manx looking dreadful as he allows meowhill to yap his ears off. you did not wanted to get entangled nor did you go over and wanted to hear what meowhill was yapping about

meowhill also gets along with nyagenti! the two cats seem to share a past together as when you first brought meowhill home, the tuxedo cat went straight first to the elegant norweigan forest cat

ah right, speaking of bringing meowhill in…

you found the poor thing with a rotted paws and bad burn wounds. poor little thing was burnt so badly it was hard to tell the color of his fur and he kept yowling in pain when you wrapped your coat around him to rush him to the nearest vet

sadly, his front two legs were badly broken and injured and had no way of recovering. and so, the vets had no other choice but to put him under anesthetic to cut off his front two legs and replace them with prosthetics

due to the nature of his injuries, meowhill required a lot of your and the other cats’ attention. recovering from losing both of his front legs and the nasty burn wounds is a long journey and meowhill needed the support from his new human friend and fellow felines

after a long and sometimes painful 2 months, meowhill had made a full recovery! the tuxedo cat’s fur grew back and he had gotten used to walking and sprinting on his prosthetic legs. you never realized how much of an energetic cat he was until you broke the news that he made a full recovery

though, like meowday, meowhill has a slight problem of constantly sitting on the window sling and meowing out the window. why? you didn’t know

is very protective of little nyanqing. you can find the tuxedo constantly nagging meow yuan and stealing meow yuan’s little cub away from him. holding the tiny munchkin by his scruff and taking him away to dote on the little cream cat somewhere in the house

it wasn’t until you took the tuxedo cat out for a shopping in the pet essentials store as a congratulations for making full recovery and the tuxedo immediately latched onto a tiny, white kitten plush did you connect the dots

poor thing had a kitten before…

you bought the white kitten plush for him of course. you don’t have the heart to wrench it away from him

making a trip back to where you originally found meowhill, you couldn’t find anything much other than an old, burnt, red scarf. you made an exact same replica of the mini scarf in secret and gave it to meowhill for his birthday gift, wrapping the soft silk around his neck snuggly before wrapping the same scarf around the plushie

ever since then, meowhill has been deathly clingy with you and the plushie. there isn’t a single day or night where you won’t see meowhill without the white plushie, grooming it, cuddling with it and taking it with him by the scruff of the kitten plushie

art credit goes to helen_zzhao on ig!

an elegant norweigan forest cat! is his fur, brown? burgundy? red? no one knows!

nyagenti is such a beautiful cat that he competes with meow yuan in their beauty level whenever you take them out on a walk. everyone wants to pet the elegant kitties and it doesn’t help that meow yuan and nyagenti are both such gentle kitties

gets along with every cats! anyone! your friends that came over for a game night, the sitters when you need to be away for a few days of business trip, the neighbors — everyone! nyagenti has no enemies

out of everyone, nyagenti gets along best with nyelt, nyan heng and meowhill. meowhill and nyagenti used to share a past it seemed as the two cats hit it off right away while the norweigan forest cat got used to the presence of nyan heng and nyelt very quickly

tends to yap sometimes — more like pray to someone or something — but isn’t as bad as meowhill or nyaturine

doesn’t really mind bath times but he prefers grooming more than bath times. he has a beautiful long fur and they’re very dense and thick so it takes the whole day for him to finally become dry so, please let’s just settle on grooming? he can bring over the brushes for you!

a very big gift giver! shiny jewels, pretty leaves that just fell, nice shaped rocks, cockroaches— nope. nuh-uh. you are NOT getting cockroaches as a gift even though the thought is swee— OH MY GOD HE DROPPED THE COCKROACH ON YOUR BED!!!1!1!

yeah… your friend looks at you as if you’ve finally lost your mind when they came over one day and saw hundreds of rat poisons, bug and insect killing sprays just racked on your shelf like you’re gonna sell them. in return you simply deadpanned back and pointed at nyagenti who already had another cockroach in his mouth

how did you ended up having nyagenti? who knows. at this point you gave up on trying to keep track of how, when, where you got your cats from. he probably just made himself known in your house one day and you simply accepted the sign from cat distribution system no.195826592649

such a gentlemanly cat. you joke that he can kiss the back of your hand to the guests and guess what? one day, nyagenti actually did do that. the look on the guest’s face will forever live rent free in your mind

really likes red roses for some reason. thankfully, roses aren’t toxic to cats unlike some other flowers such as lily, daffodil, hyacinths but nyagenti’s love for red roses nearly borderlines on obsession in a sense

when asking the vet if there could be any reason or explanation for this, they simply patted your back, told you that you had a tendency to attract weird cats and shooed you out. not fully, but they lowkey did that and said “roses have a nice scent that tends to attract cats or dogs. they might end up taking a bite from the flower but it isn’t poisonous or toxic, so no need to worry”

still, you’re getting tired of constantly living with red rose petals thrown everywhere in your house. so much so you have gotten used to it and just decided to leave it be. if your friend comes over and sees the rose petals as something romantical, you simply shove nyagenti into their faces

unlike the other cats, nyagenti isn’t the most clingy or affectionate cat. though, that isn’t to say he is cold and distant, he does love you! but he just shows it in small ways and in quiet manners

bringing over his brush for you to help him groom his beautiful thick fur, waking you up gently in the morning with soft meows and gentle licks, even knowing to turn on the AC on a warm temperature after your shower because you always come out shivering

and he is definitely the one who leaves the fresh red roses on your bedside nightstand every morning you wake up

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applepiewinchesters · 11 months ago

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Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.

Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)

Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff

Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.

The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.

Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.

Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.

All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.

When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.

You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.

The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.

“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.

Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.

It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.

Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.

The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”

That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.

When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.

After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.

Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.

You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.

But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.

It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.

After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.

But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.

“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.

“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.

“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.

Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.

Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.

You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.

“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.

The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”

“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.

“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.

The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.

Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.

You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.

Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.

So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.

You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.

You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.

When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.

His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.

Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.

“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.

“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.

As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.

“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.

Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.

“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.

“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”

While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.

“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.

When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.

Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.

He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.

…

It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.

You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.

“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.

“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.

You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.

Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.

Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.

Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.

“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”

The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.

You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.

Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.

You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.

“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.

It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.

He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.

What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.

“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.

You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.

“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.

It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.

You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.

“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.

“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.

You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.

“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.

“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.

You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.

Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.

When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”

You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.

Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either. But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.

“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.

Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.

“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.

“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.

Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”

“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.

“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.

Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.

“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.

The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.

You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.

“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.

So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.

“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.

“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.

“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”

Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.

It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."

Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.

But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.

Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”

Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.

You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”

“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.

“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.

“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.

You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”

Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.

“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.

This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.

“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.

This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.

The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!

#logan howlett #james logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett x reader #xmen #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #hugh jackman #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett fluff

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s10127470 · 6 months ago

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Upcoming X-Men: The Next Mutation Episodes

Well this isn't something I haven't done before, but I thought it would be nice to do since the end of the year is just a few weeks away.

These are some of the upcoming adventures to expect next year from X-Men: The Next Mutation.....

-On Angel's Wings: Angel has gone through her Secondary Mutation and is using it to help heal people in need, leading many to believe that she's an actual angel. Unfortunately, this catches the ire of the religious zealot and disgraced reverend William Stryker, who believes mutants are the work of The Devil. And upon finding this out, he and his terrorist group, The Purifiers decide to teach the mutants and those who are on their side a lesson in the name of the Lord.

-Date Night in Murderworld: The first holiday special of the series! It's Valentine's Day, and The X-Men and their friends are heading to that new amusement park in town: Loverworld! But suddenly, this theme park turns from a place of love to a place of DEATH as literally everything starts trying to kill them! Now; The X-Men, Duncan, Taryn, Quicksilver, Scarlet Witch, and returning guest character Spider-Man and his girlfriend Chat, must fight for their lives and stop the madman in the charge of the park, who simply calls himself: Arcade.

-Old Frenemies: A pleasant birthday party for Wolverine gets tainted upon the unexpected visit of an old face from his past. This being the regenerative mercenary with a blabber mouth, Deadpool. Initially trying to past it off as a well-meaning visit, Deadpool would eventually reveal that he came to warn Wolverine as a trio of his past foes known as Team X, were coming for him. This team consists of the likes of Omega Red, Lady Deathstrike, and of course, Sabretooth.

-Teenage Mutant Ninja Mutants: The X-Men receive a new member in the form of a young British woman by the name of Betsy Braddock, who takes on the codename: Psylocke. However, her new membership will be put into question when The Westchester District finds itself attacked by the forces of the most feared ninja clan in the world: The Hand, who are after her.

-Surface Pressure: The students of Empire State University are going on a week-long cruise for spring break. However, The X-Men soon find themselves teaming up with Namor the Sub-Mariner in order to help him stop his arch-nemesis Attuma, who's planning on conquering the surface world with his army of giant sea monsters.

-Kitty's Fairy Tale: The first movie event. When Wolverine and Mariko go out for the night, Shadowcat and Lockheed are left in charge of babysitting. And so, the duo decided to tell Akihiro and Laura a bedtime story. The story sees our X-Men planted into the world of the 1001 Nights, where Shadowcat, Lockheed, Nightcrawler and Colossus are a pirate crew about to embark on a journey so grand, even the legendary Sinbad would have to give a thumbs-up to it!

-Party Crashers: The senior prom has arrived at Midtown High School, and Nightcrawler, Scarlet Witch, Colossus and Iceman are excited to have the night of their lives. Unfortunately, the party finds itself crashed by members of The Brotherhood.

-Close Encounters of the Mutant-kind: The X-Men find themselves be recruited by a society of multiversal variants of themselves, and now they have to prove their worth when an alliance of multiversal villains unleash an army of highly-advanced Sentinels onto their headquarters.

-Brothers Forever: The X-Men are off to Hawaii to visit their old friend, former fellow X-Men, and Cyclops' younger brother: Alex Summers, codename: Havok. As well as the rest of his team, the government and S.H.I.E.L.D.-sponsored X-Factor, consisting of Forge, Polaris, Strong Guy, Multiple Man and Emma Frost. However, things go south when upon their arrival, the team finds out that Havok has gone missing. And now, the search is on for the missing mutant teen. But their search will eventually lead them to the mutant madman who calls him The Living Pharaoh.

-Shock to the System: Spidey and Chat return again for another guest appearance! This time, they're helping The X-Men take down Electro, who after gaining his Secondary Mutation, plans on conquering all New York with its very own technology.

-Wrath of the Man-Apes: A survival training weekend in The Savage Land goes south when The X-Men get attacked and captured by the tribe of savage, ape-like humans known as The Man-Apes, who are planning on forcing them to fight in a death arena. However, Duncan and Taryn managed to escape capture, and now it's up to them to rescue their friends. Luckily, they'll be receiving help from The X-Men's old friend Ka-Zar and his saber-tooth tiger brother Zabu.

-Lovers of War: Wolverine and Mariko tell their kids and The X-Men the story of how they first met and how they fell in love.

-The Show of Strength: Cyclops, Beast, Colossus, Psylocke and Wolverine find themselves being transported to an inter-dimensional fighting arena alongside several other heroes and villains of notable physical strength by the psychotic inter-dimensional television host: Mojo. This was done for his latest reality television hit: The Show of Strength, where he'll split the transported individuals into two teams: Heroes and Villains, and have them fight each other in a series of either 1-on-1 or 2-on-2 battles. Whichever team wins will become the cast of his traveling wrestling show.....forever.

Well that's all for now!

Let me know what you guys think about these upcoming episodes!

And if you have any questions on them, shoot me an ask anytime!

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ariel-seagull-wings · 9 months ago

Note

Hey Ariel!

I'm glad we're on the same wave-length of the Next Mutation X-Men serving as the straight men to the rest of the X-Men variants.

Which is funny to think about since they're among the youngest of the variants and from one of the most out-there universes.

Here's two mock-up scenes I taught up to showcase this.

The first being the basketball scene from the first episode of X-Men '97:

'97 Wolverine: Jean may dig the boy scout routine Summers, but I don't much go in for being bossed around.....

'97 Cyclops: Cry me a river, Wolverine.

(As the two stare down each other, NM Wolverine suddenly steps in between the two, shoving them back a bit)

NM Wolverine: Okay. I've had a enough of this. 90s Me. You NEED to move the fuck on. Jean is not into to you. She's never been into to you. And she never will be into you. She's happily married to Slim here, and if you already cared about her, you should accept that! But noooooo! Even after all these years, you still want her. And besides, she ain't even all that.

'97 Cyclops and Jean: YEAH! (then slowly realize) Hey!

NM Wolverine: Dude. There are four billions vagina on the planet. Find another one.

'97 Storm: Did you really have to word it like that?

NM Wolverine: Hey. Seeing this clown hasn't been able to take a hint for years, I might as well.

'97 Wolverine: Some talk for a man so close to the ground (suddenly ejects his claws).

NM Wolverine: Okay. First of all, you're a inch taller than me, so shut the hell up. And second....you really do not want to test me. You've seen what I'm capable of....

('97 Wolverine starts looking hesitant and soon enough, reluctantly sighs and retracts his claws)

NM Wolverine: Now if you excuse me. I'm gonna go home to spend some time with my WIFE and my TWO KIDS.

(As NM Wolverine walks off, '97 Wolverine looks on with an angry look while the rest of the X-Men looked surprised.)

'97 Jubilee: Dude. You got burned.....by yourself.

The second being the fight between Wolverine and Cyclops in "Breakdown" from Wolverine and the X-Men:

WAXTM Cyclops: Come on! Get up!

WAXTM Wolverine: Forget it, Summers. I ain't fighting you over a girl.

(WAXTM Wolverine gets up and starts limply walking away. But while do so, WAXTM Cyclops looks on, even angrier than before. And soon enough, he blasts Wolverine in the back, sending him flying into the steps of the mansion's porch. As Wolverine weakly tries to get up, Cyclops starts approaching him, slowly lowering his sunglasses. But suddenly, a pink aura formed around Cyclops and he started to raise up off the ground, much to his shock.)

WAXTM Cyclops: What the hell?!

(Soon enough, he got repeatedly smashed into the ground, creating a massive crater in the process. After about a minute of smashing, it finally stopped, with the pink aura finally vanished from Cyclops' body, who was now a bloody, beaten mess, moaning in pain. Suddenly, a group of shadows appeared above him, with it being none other than the NM X-Men, who looked down at him with angry glared)

NM Jean: Not so good when you're the one being sneak attacked, now is it?

WAXTM Cyclops: (weakly) Help......me....

NM Cyclops: No.

Meanwhile, WAXTM Gambit is getting a good beating from TAS/97 and Evolution Gambit...

The Animated Rogues are chilling and befriending each other while giving counceling for FOX Movies Rogue to self actualize and become more confident.

#mutants #x men the next mutation #cyclops #wolverine and the x men #x men 97 #x men the animated series #logan #scott summers #jean grey

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just-dreaming-marvel · 6 months ago

Text

Good Enough

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,520ish

Summary: Logan tags along as your date to your brother's wedding.

Warnings: some mental health issues, insecurities

Notes: This is extremely self indulgent and may be terrible. My brother's wedding was yesterday and I had a mental breakdown because I've never been in a relationship and have now grown so insecure about it all. If only I had any hope of something, so I wrote this.

You sighed at the invitation in your hand. It was no shock to you to receive the wedding invite, it was from your own brother, but it stung none the less. Though you were very happy for your younger brother, you couldn’t help but ache for a relationship yourself. You wanted someone to be your confidant, your best friend. You wanted a partner to go through the difficulties of life with, someone to lean on. But you were never that girl.

You also had a lot of insecurities surrounding yourself and relationships. You had never been in one. No one was ever interested in you. You weren’t what the world deemed a perfect girl. You were average, for the most part. It didn’t help that you were a mutant with the ability to turn invisible. Often, your mutation linked to your emotions, making you go invisible when you were nervous or excited or embarrassed. You didn’t help the X-Men besides being a teacher at the school. You weren’t what people wanted, leaving you feeling alone and longing.

“If you glare at that paper any longer, it may actually turn invisible,” Logan’s gruff voice broke through your internal downward spiral.

You jumped slight, looking behind you to see Logan leaning against the kitchen doorway. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled.

“Nothin’ to be apologizing about.” He pushed himself off of the doorway and walked over. “Now, what’s got you glaring that hard?” He peeked over your shoulder. “A wedding?”

“It’s my brothers.”

He nodded, grunting. “And… we don’t like him?”

“No,” you shook your head, “we love him. And I’m so very happy for him. It’s just…” Logan sat down in the chair next to you, waiting for more of your response. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Not buying it, sweetheart.”

You sighed. How much of the truth to you tell the man you stole your heart but had no idea? “It’s just… I’m happy for my brother. I honestly don’t want the relationship that they have, but I… I want a relationship. Sometimes I get lonely or I just want someone to share the good, the bad, and the ugly with.”

Logan nodded. “I understand a bit. With my, uh, long life, I’ve definitely had my moments where I’ve felt that.”

“Do you still?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged.

“There’s also the fact that I really don’t want to go to this wedding alone. I will be cornered, asked why I’m single and given suggestions on what I need to do or change to get a man.”

Logan’s brows pinched together. “That’s not right.”

“Yeah, well, it’s how it’s gonna be.”

“Not if I come with ya.”

Your heart began hammering in your chest. “What?”

“I’ll come with you. As a, uh, date—a fake date. To throw them off your case.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Logan shrugged. “I’m free and Charles keeps trying to get me out of the mansion.” And to help you, Logan thought. He would do anything to help you and be close to you.

“Oh.” You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt at the thought of Logan just coming to get Charles off his back. “I really don’t want to put you out—“

“I got no plans. I’ll be there.”

~~~

Your hands shook as you finished up getting ready for your brother’s wedding. This whole day was overwhelming to you. You were so happy for your brother and his bride, but the thought of people questioning you and pitying you had your stomach in knots. A firm knock on your door broke you out of your thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it. There stood Logan, looking better than ever. He had clearly done his hair with more purpose and trimmed his facial hair. He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a black bow-tie. You were taken back by the effort he had put in.

Logan felt the same way about you. You looked gorgeous. He had never seen that dress on you before, most likely because it was specific for the wedding. You were all dolled up and it took his breath away. Today might be more than he signed up for, and he was okay with that.

Logan cleared his throat. “You, uh, you look very pretty,” he said, more nervous than he meant to.

“Thanks,” you responded bashfully. You looked down, feeling your ability beginning to take control. “Shit.”

Logan reached out and took your arm. “It’s alright. Maybe letting it out now will help with the wedding.” He was assuming that your nervousness was triggering your invisibility and not his compliment. “I’ll keep a hold of you so I don’t lose you.”

All you could do was nod, thankful that only part of you was invisible. You shut your door and let Logan lead you into the garage and toward your car. He helped you into the passenger seat before going around to the driver’s side and heading off.

~~~

The drive was mostly quiet, which you were thankful for. Between Logan being your date and this wedding, your mind was all over the place. You were also grateful that you were able to get your invisibility under control. Logan parked the car and glanced over at you.

“We can turn around if you want,” Logan said softly. “You don’t have to put yourself through this.”

You pressed out a smile as you looked his way. “Thanks, Logan, but I can manage.”

Logan sighed as he got out of the car and walked around to help you out. He wished that he had the courage to say something about his own feelings towards you. But he was sure you just saw him as a friend. You looped your arm through Logan’s and let him lead you into the venue.

~~~

Your family was excited to see you and you were grateful that your parents understood not press the fact that Logan came with you. Logan sat in the last row during the ceremony as you were forced to stand on the bride’s side as on of the bridesmaids. His eyes remained glued on you. Your forced smile. The way your hands flickered in out how of visibility. But the thing that hit him hard was your glossy eyes. He knew that you weren’t crying because of the joy a wedding brought. Logan had to clench his fists tightly to prevent himself from going up there and pulling you away.

Logan continued to watch from a protective distance once the ceremony was over and you were pulled into pictures. The longer it went on, the more he could see everything weighing down on you and was angry that no one else was picking up on it.

As soon as you were excused from pictures, Logan watched as you slipped away. Your invisibility took control and you were suddenly gone. Logan moved with purpose as he followed your scent and the frantic beating of your heart. He followed you to a small room in the back of the venue and locked it behind him. The sobs that began to sound from your invisible form, tore through Logan.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out, keeping near the door.

“I… I just don’t understand,” you sobbed. “I don’t understand why I’m not good enough… Not good enough for a date or a glance or a one night stand… I understand that I can be difficult and weird and I’m not the prettiest girl in the world but I… I deserve good things too. I just want to be good enough too…”

Logan’s heart was breaking at the pure realization that you truly believed that you were not good enough. He took a careful step forward, using his senses to try and figure out exactly what your position was in this room. He reached out his hand and was grateful when it brushed agains your arm. Logan gently grabbed it and pulled you into him. You leaned in and let yourself cry as he tenderly held you.

“I just want to be enough for someone,” you sobbed. “Why I am never good enough?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so wrong,” he softly said. “You are perfect. You are kind and beautiful. You are so talented and the best teacher. Anyone who can’t see those things are idiots… Darlin’,” he pulled back as you continued to shimmer in and out of visibility. His hands tenderly came up and held your face. “You are good enough… you are more than good enough.”

“Logan—“

“No, I should have been honest with you a while ago… You are enough for me, sweetheart. So much more than enough.” His thumbs gently brushed against your cheeks as your tears continued to fall.

“You… You aren’t just saying that?”

“Honey, you know me, I’m not one for words unless I mean them… You are good enough for me. Hell, you’re perfect in my eyes. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to show you that.” His lips met yours for a short but sweet kiss. “You are enough.”

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 2 months ago

Text

❝ I blame it on your love.❞

Mark Grayson X ftm!reader | prologue, angst | wc: 1.1K

warnings: death, mentions of torture, experimental procedures done on reader, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of trafficking (briefly)

masterlist ; pt. 0

authors note: the reader's backstory was very much influenced by Luka (from Alien Stage) and Black Widow/Winter Soldier (spec. the MCU) but I just wanted to toy with the idea of reader being something made for one purpose, finding another, but realizing their feelings will never be returned... Until he sees that in another universe, it is. Listening to ▸CODA by GRAY / Track 10 by Charli XCX Patreon | Discord

The first human with powers had set a domino affect in motion. A gentle shove against the laws of psychics, something that could simply be passed on as a mutation. Maybe a third eyelid like that of a crocodile, or an extra finger, a tail even. The next few that came, whether through sheer luck at birth or through blindly groping around in an ancient cave to become a God's avatar, were less subtle in every way possible.

But the effects were written in history. From persecution, to worship, to fear and finally to now.

Necessity.

Who needed nuclear bombs when you had a man who could fly through the air, with the strength of a thousand men, with the name Immortal?

With his team of other super humans, some even non-humans, keeping the world safe; it was tough on business.

You despised them. Heroes. In their brightly coloured outfits, streaking through the sky as symbols of hope when all it was was blind adoration.

But you despised them more for being the catalyst to your birth.

Birth. The word sounds foreign to you. You needed a mother for that, a warm body, a soothing voice, warm milk made just for you and all that bullshit.

You weren't born. You were made. They didn't want a child, much less a baby, they needed a weapon.

"Nothing flashy," a voice would speak. His voice rough, garbled from the amniotic fluid of your tank and your newly formed ears.

"I don't need laser eyes or acid breath. I need a brawler, a killer, a fucking weapon."

Your first breath was on the floors of a cold room. You'd reached up to tear the stubborn film of fluid over your mouth and nose, little chest heaving as your eyes were blinded by the light of a flashlight.

The first thing you felt after being made was cold indifference. No excited tears, no relieved sobs, just pen scrawling on paper and deft fingers poking and prodding your body. Needles pushed in, scalpel nicked and sliced, monitored closely as they dragged your body onto the cold metal table. They spoke, while you watched.

There were metal hooks on the walls, with different variations of you's. The room was so cold that it would keep bodies fresh for as long as they needed to be and you let out your first cry as it settled over you.

What millions had looked for their entire lives, their purpose to be in this world, had been revealed to you the same night you were born.

A weapon.

The GDA had their hands full enough as it is, petty crimes weren't enough to get them to even glance their way. But when they hear whispers of a gang with a superhuman child who had the strength of a tank and with skin as strong as reinforced metal — well, that was new concern entirely.

It didn't help that you were wickedly good at using your age to put people off guard. The heroes who'd rush into the burning building at the sounds of your screams, found with their bodies burnt to crisps but their neck twisted and ribs split open before the smoke inhalation got to them.

The heroes who thought you were a kidnapped child, forced into some sort of skin trade as you huddled in the corner of dark room only to be torn limb from limb by you.

Cecil was disturbed by your violence but he couldn't help to think at how efficient you were.

The intel you'd stolen from countless organized crimes, the corrupted police men and government officials you'd gotten information from. Your methods were crude but perhaps with a little guidance, some well-placed warmth, a well-timed praise here and there...

Catching you proved to be an impossible task at first. Whatever these fucks had implemented in you hadn't mattered, it was your instincts from years of killing. You had a knack for finding cameras, your eyes brazenly making contact with the lenses before you jumped towards it.

You couldn't fly — Cecil didn't believe in God, but he did mutter some words of relief at this — but your super strength gave you the ability to leap high into the air, fingers tearing through brick and metal so you could climb onto the walls like some deranged spider monkey.

Wearing you down once they did corner you was another task entirely. Immortal had lived thousands of lifetimes, but he'd never seen the animalistic anger you had in your eyes. A broken arm didn't matter to you, you'd simply bared your teeth at him and tore of your hand from the elbow down.

If you felt pain, you didn't show it.

You used your exposed bone as a knife instead.

Immortal had decided that for the greater good, he would put you out of your misery.

Cecil had saved you.

No, that's not right. Cecil hadn't saved you because he wanted to; Cecil found usefulness in your purpose. You knew this the second he spoke to you, and you didn't fight back against the restraints of the pure white room you were in.

A weapon with no wielder, with no purpose, what choice did you have?

The missions didn't matter to you. You did them without question, without failure. Cecil would give you ice cream for a job well done and you'd take it to your room, quietly eating it as medics tended to you and recorded any anomalies.

You were useful. They needed to keep you alive.

They told you one day, this kindly lady with her dimpled grin and warm brown eyes, that you were 10 years old.

The revelation didn't stick, you stared impassively at her and nodded.

When you were 12, Cecil gave you a new mission.

Omni-Man's son, Mark Grayson.

With Omni-Man refusing to join the GDA, he was still a bit of a wild card. Cecil liked to keep his affairs in check and he had promised Deborah Grayson to keep away from Mark, to give him a normal childhood.

So why not give Mark a new friend?

#s3thwrit3sstuff #male reader #reader insert #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #ftm reader #invincible variants x male reader #invincible variant x male reader #invincible x male reader

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wchswift · 4 months ago

Text

─── LAP OF (DIS)COMFORT | PT.3

pairing: worst!wolverine x fem!reader

summary: to try and resolve the awkward tension between you and logan after everything, you decide to be friends with benefits. And of course, things don't go well. pt.1 | pt.2

contents! mdni 18+, pet names, implied and explicit sex, smut (so all the usual warnings), unprotected sex p in v, teasing, slightly angst, emotional tension, swearing, blood mention, idiots in love, a lot of feelings, fighting their feelings, casual sex, jealousy, happy ending and probably more.

word count: 8k (yeah...)

ℒogan masterlist !

── english isn't my first language/no proofread, so probably some mistakes.

The air in the apartment was different now.

Everything was different now.

It had been ever since that night.

Logan and you had always existed in this precarious balance—a push and pull, tension humming between you like an electric wire stretched too tight. But at the same time, it felt natural, a unique connection. An easy connection. And that night, you'd both finally snapped. Lips crashing, hands gripping, bodies pressing too close in a moment of reckless abandon. But when you pulled away instead of making things clearer, it only tangled the lines further.

Now, you avoided each other like strangers.

You only went to the apartment when you knew he wouldn't be there, or when Wade gathered everyone together you stayed as far away as possible from where Logan was. So he did the same, and whatever connection had once existed between you had been buried beneath silence and stolen glances.

Now, Logan and Wade were away for a few days on some mission the X-Men had called them to help with. So since the apartment was empty, Al being who knows where, you and Vanessa decided to have a girls' night. Just the two of you in the apartment to gossip and have some time without Wade or anyone else always surrounding you like vultures.

When you said you'd rather do it in yours, which was literally next door, she said she didn't want to leave the apartment so she wouldn't miss the moment Wade returned. Their relationship was still complicated, but they seemed happier than ever. You thought it was cute.

So when the front door swung open that night, dragging in the scent of blood and metal, your heart lurched at the sight of him.

Logan stood in the doorway, looking wrecked.

His suit was stained dark—some of it clearly his, most of it not. His shoulders were heavy, muscles tense beneath the weight of exhaustion. His hands flexed at his sides as if they were still expecting a fight. There were no wounds—his mutation saw to that—but something in his posture, in the tense muscles on his face, told you he was barely keeping himself upright.

You stayed rooted to the couch, watching him, fingers curling against your knees. Everything inside you screamed to move, to go to him, to touch, to check—

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Vanessa didn’t hesitate. She got up immediately, crossing the room to Wade, cupping his face in her hands before pressing a kiss to his lips. “Jesus, you two look like hell,” she muttered before pulling him into an embrace.

Wade grinned. “What, this isn’t my usual charming self?”

Vanessa snorted, running her hands down his arms, checking him over, making sure he was okay. You watched. Your heart tightened for a second with something tinged with envy, the almost deadly desire to be able to do the same with Logan.

And Logan? He didn’t say a word. He just stood there for a moment longer, then exhaled sharply and walked straight past you, disappearing into his room.

You swallowed hard.

The apartment felt too quiet once he was gone, the absence of him pressing down on your chest. You didn’t even realize you were gripping the couch cushions until Vanessa glanced at you, brow raised.

“Well?” she asked.

You blinked. “What?”

Vanessa nodded toward the hallway. “Go.”

Your throat tightened. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Oh, please.” Vanessa rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but whatever it is, it’s eating him alive. And you, apparently.”

You hesitated, your body already betraying you by shifting toward the hall. You hated this. The distance, the uncertainty, the way he acted like that night hadn’t meant anything—like you hadn’t shaken his entire world the way he’d shaken yours. And you know it was your fault. You knew you had done it when you said what you said before you turned and walked away.

But that didn't make it hurt any less.

With a quiet breath, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked toward his room.

His door wasn’t shut all the way.

You pushed it open cautiously, stepping inside. The room was dimly lit, the scent of whiskey and blood clinging to the air. Logan sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head down, his hands loosely clasped together.

He didn’t look at you when you entered. “Don’t need a babysitter.”

You ignored that. “Rough mission?”

A low scoff. “You could say that.”

You lingered by the door, shifting on your feet. “You okay?”

Logan finally looked up then, his sharp gaze locking onto yours. “Why do you care?”

The words stung, even though you knew they weren’t meant to. This was just how he operated—shutting people out, pushing them away before they could push him first. Well, especially since you did. You crossed your arms, steeling yourself. “Because you… you're my friend Logan, Wade's friend. Even after what happened, I still care about you.”

His jaw clenched, something flickering behind his eyes before he exhaled sharply, scrubbing a hand over his face. “You shouldn’t.”

Your chest ached at that. “Too late.”

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was heavy, thick with words left unsaid, with everything you were both too damn stubborn to talk about.

The silence between you stretches, thick with everything unspoken. Logan's gaze is still locked on yours, unreadable, but there's something raw in the way he looks at you—something that makes your stomach twist.

You shouldn't be here. Not like this. Not after everything. You were the one who didn't want this to happen.

But you don’t move.

Because despite all of it—despite knowing this is a bad idea, despite every instinct screaming at you to walk away—you still want him. More than you should.

You've never met anyone like Logan. No one like Logan should want you, but he did, and God, how could you let this moment slip away?

Logan exhales sharply, his hand dragging through his hair. He looks exhausted, like the weight of the world is pressing down on him, and for a second, you think he might tell you to leave.

Finally, he exhaled, “We can’t do this.”

Your throat tightened. “Do what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely between you, frustration edging his voice. “Whatever the hell this is. The back and forth, the looks, the tension, the damn kiss.”

You swallowed hard. “So what do you want, Logan?”

He hesitated—just for a second, just long enough for you to see the war waging behind his eyes. Then, with a humorless chuckle, he shook his head. “I don’t know.” He glanced at you, jaw clenching. “I wanted that—you. But you were the one who ran the other night, remember? The one who said I'm too fucking broke for this to work.”

You flinched at the reminder. His words struck you like a slap. He wasn’t wrong; that night, when you let yourself have it for a moment and realization had crashed over you like a tidal wave, you had pulled away first. Not because you didn’t want it—because you did, too much. You wanted him with a fervor that was almost suffocating, but because the fear of heartbreak, the fear of entangling your lives further in the chaos of both your realities, was terrifying.

“I know,” you admitted, voice quieter now. “I just—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “With everything you’ve been through, everything you have to deal with, everything I have been through, and this whole… thing between us? It just—it won’t work, Logan. We’ll just make a mess of it.”

His gaze darkened. “Yeah. Probably.”

The room felt unbearably small, the weight of him, of his presence, pressing down on you. You should walk away. You should end this conversation before you got yourself into something you couldn’t handle. Something that would break you after it's over.

But instead, you met his eyes.

“But maybe we can make this work out?” you murmured, voice measured, “it can be casual. Just like you said before.”

Logan’s brows furrowed slightly.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you continued. “It doesn’t have to be anything.”

He exhaled sharply, gaze flicking to your mouth. “That what you really want?”

No.

Not at all.

But you nodded anyway. “Yeah.”

He let out a quiet scoff, like he already knew you were both lying to yourselves. But he still sat back slightly, hands resting on his thighs as he let the weight of your words settle between you.

Finally, he gave a slow nod. “Something casual. No strings. No expectations.”

The second he said it, you knew this would turn into something worse. A bigger mess. A deeper ache. But you still agreed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah. We keep it simple. No commitments. No feelings.”

You took a step forward, throat dry.

Your pulse thundered as you approached him, standing between his legs. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. He was warm, solid, everything you wanted and everything you shouldn’t.

His fingers flexed at his sides before they finally moved, hesitantly finding your waist. His touch was deliberate, grounding. You rested your hands on his shoulders, fingers digging in slightly as your breathing grew shallow.

“This is a bad idea,” he murmured, his voice rougher now.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “It is.”

But neither of you moved.

Instead, his grip on your waist tightened slightly, and your fingers trailed up his neck, brushing through the coarse hairs at the base of his skull. His breath hitched.

You swallowed. “Are you gonna kiss me, or are we just gonna sit here making this worse?”

So instead of answering, he closed the distance.

The kiss is slow at first, testing—like you're both waiting for the other to pull away. But neither of you does. Instead, Logan’s hand lifts to your jaw, his thumb brushing over your skin, and then suddenly, it shifts. Deepens.

You gasped against his lips, and that was all it took.

Logan pulled you onto his lap, making you moan, your hands gripping his shoulders. You melt into the heat of him, fingers threading into his hair. The kiss turns desperate, feverish, all the tension between you snapping at once.

His hands slid up your back while you sighed against his lips, his hands pressing you impossibly closer. Heat curled in your stomach, spreading fast, your body already reacting to every shift, every touch, every desperate inhale between kisses. And right now you didn't care about the blood or the dirt on his uniform, all you needed was to feel him.

He moved his hands under your shirt, rough palms searing against your skin as he lifted the fabric higher, his mouth trailing along your jaw, down your throat.

Before you could process it, he was shifting, standing up with you still wrapped around him. You let out a surprised laugh, only to yelp when he turned you around and tossed you onto the mattress.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes wide. “Logan, Wade and Vanessa are in the other room.”

He smirked, already crawling over you. “Don’t give a damn.”

Then he kissed you again, pulling your shirt over your head—and you let him. Because at this moment, nothing else matters—not the past, not the future, not the way this is going to complicate everything.

It’s just him. Just you. Just this.

it’s almost too much. The weight of him, the way his lips find yours again, the way his hands mold perfectly against your breast, the way your bodies fit together like they were always meant to—it feels like falling.

And you let yourself fall.

It wasn’t an official thing.

Hell, it wasn’t supposed to be a thing at all.

It was just sex.

That’s what you told yourself waking up tangled in Logan’s sheets, his scent clinging to your skin. What you told yourself walking out of his room that morning, glancing back just once. And definitely what you told yourself now, sitting across from him in Wade and Logan’s apartment, pretending nothing had changed.

Except… something had.

You weren’t supposed to feel different. But you did. Lighter. Like something had settled inside you.

And Logan?

Logan looked… good. Not just in the rugged, unfairly attractive way he always did, but good, lighter too. A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back in his chair.

Wade, oblivious, was loudly chef’ing in the kitchen.

“This is how you host a dinner!” he announced, dramatically tossing something into a pan. “A little olive oil, a lot of butter, and enough seasoning to make Gordon Ramsay weep!”

Vanessa stole a sip from his drink. “You didn’t measure anything.”

“Did my sexy friend, Gambit, measure his charm? Did I measure the perfection of my ass? No! Some things are meant to be.”

Logan shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”

You caught the twitch of amusement in his expression and grinned. Wade clapped his hands, declaring dinner ready. You and Logan sat at the table as he slid plates in front of you.

“The masterpiece is served!”

You eyed the steak and roasted potatoes. Not bad. Logan raised a brow. “You actually made something edible?”

“Weird for me too,” Wade admitted, taking a bite. “Damn. Maybe I am husband material.”

Vanessa patted his cheek. “That’s cute, baby.”

Logan eyed his plate with deep suspicion. “What’d you do to it?”

“Wow. Wow.” Wade pressed a hand to his chest. “The lack of faith. Do I look like the kind of man who would tamper with a meal out of pure, petty spite?”

“Yes,” Logan and Vanessa said in unison.

Wade gasped. “Babe, et tu?”

Vanessa shrugged. “You once swapped out Logan’s beer with non-alcoholic just to see what would happen.”

You snorted, glancing at Logan. “Did he notice?”

Logan scoffed. “Of course I did.”

Wade grinned. “Not right away, though.”

Logan shot him a glare. “I did.”

“Sure, sure.” Wade smirked, cutting into his steak. “Denial is the first step.”

You bit back a grin. “To be fair, it is kinda funny.”

Logan’s gaze flicked to you, something warm behind it. “Yeah?”

“You’re fun to rile up,” you teased.

Something shifted in his expression, just enough for the corner of his mouth to twitch—and then:

“Least I don’t eat like a damn toddler.”

Silence.

Wade blinked, fork mid-air. “What.”

Vanessa stifled a laugh. “Oh my god.”

You burst out laughing. Because Wade did eat like a damn toddler. Cut-up bites, ketchup on everything, sometimes even a sippy cup.

But it wasn’t just that.

It was that Logan had made a joke.

"No! I can't believe you made a joke! Aww, I knew you had some humor in you." You exclaimed, your eyes wide with mock disbelief.

Logan just exhaled, shaking his head. “Took an easy shot.”

“Oh, spare me! That barely qualifies as a joke!”

“Shut it, Wade.”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, turning to Logan, a playful smile lighting your face. “He doesn’t get your humor like I do.”

Logan’s gaze held yours a second too long. You saw him fight down a real smile.

That thing—that undercurrent—was back.

Wade shattered it, as always. “Okay, this is getting weird. Can we get back to admiring my culinary genius and not the undeniable sexual tension at the table?”

You rolled your eyes and took a bite of steak.

Dinner drifted into easy conversation, Wade leading with his usual running commentary. But through it all, you felt Logan. Every glance. Every flicker of a smirk. Every time your eyes met.

When Wade got up for drinks, Vanessa followed, leaving you and Logan alone.

You nudged a potato with your fork. “Didn’t think you’d stick around this long.”

Logan exhaled. “Yeah, well. Wade would’ve whined if I didn’t.”

You smirked. “So you do like him.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t not say it.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but his smirk betrayed him.

Neither of you spoke, but neither looked away, either.

His gaze dipped—just for a second.

Your breath caught before you stretched in your seat, arching slightly, just enough for your shirt to ride up an inch. You didn’t look at Logan when you did it, but you felt his eyes flicker downward.

Then, the tiniest smirk tugged at your lips.

You leaned in, breath brushing his ear. “You keep looking at me like that, Logan, someone’s gonna notice.”

His jaw tightened, a reaction that sent a thrill through you.

Just before the moment deepened, Vanessa returned, interrupting the charge in the air. You leaned away.

“We should do this more often,” she mused.

“Agreed,” Wade said through a mouthful of food. “Nothing brings people together like a good meal and unresolved sexual tension.”

You nearly choked.

Vanessa swatted Wade. “Babe.”

“What? It’s like watching two tigers circling each other. I half expect growling.”

You groaned, shoving another bite of steak into your mouth.

Logan, ever the gracious one, shot Wade a flat look. “You done?”

“Not even close.”

Dinner wrapped up soon after.

“I should probably get going,” you said, standing.

Logan stood too, casually. “I’ll walk you out.”

Wade squinted. “Ohhh, will you now?”

Logan didn’t blink. “Yeah.”

Wade turned to Vanessa. “Babe. Look at them. They think they’re sneaky.”

“Leave them alone,” Vanessa sighed.

“No, this is gold—”

“Wade,” you cut in, deadpan. “Shut up.”

Wade gasped, clutching his chest. “She shut me up.” Then, he turned to Logan, smirking. “You better marry her.”

Logan grabbed the door handle and opened it. “We’re leaving now.”

Wade called after you, laughing. “Have fun!” and because he can keep his mouth shut, he added. “Also, stay safe! And by that, I mean use protection, I’m not dealing with a mini-Wolverine running around, okay?”

As the door slammed behind you, Logan muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

You snorted. “That was so bad. Real smooth.”

Logan huffed. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be.”

You turned to him, grinning. “Yeah, I noticed.”

His gaze dipped to your lips. Your stomach flipped.

The tension between you snapped tight.

Your fingers brushed his arm, teasing. “What now, Wolverine?”

His voice dropped. “Think you already know.”

Heat coiled in your stomach.

The second the lock clicked open, Logan pushed inside with you. The door barely shut before Logan had you pinned.

He shoved you against it, a hungry growl ripping from his throat as his mouth devoured yours.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow.

It was needy. Desperate. Fucking brutal.

His hands grabbed at you—hips, waist, thighs—picking you up like you weighed nothing. Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, and he slammed you against the door, muscles flexing as he held you up, rolling his hips hard against yours.

“You got no idea what you just started,” he muttered, voice low, hot against your ear.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, I think I do.”

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. “That right?”

His fingers dragged up your thighs—slow, teasing, making you shiver.

Then, his lips brushed your ear, voice dropping into something filthy.

“I’m gonna ruin you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I’m gonna have you up against the door—spread out, begging, takin’ me so deep you feel me for days.”

Heat flooded your body.

He smirked. Fucking smirked, because he knew.

“You’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?” His voice was pure sin, rough and knowing. “Walked outta that dinner all sweet and teasing, thinkin’ you could provoke me.”

You whimpered, trying to move against him, but his grip tightened.

“I’m about to show you what teasing really gets you.”

And fuck, he really did.

The apartment was still thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Your skin was burning, muscles weak, body utterly wrecked—in the best fucking way possible.

You barely registered Logan lifting you off the door, carrying you with ease like you were dead weight. The bastard didn’t even sound winded. Just a small huff as he maneuvered you towards the couch.

“Christ,” you muttered, boneless against him. “How the fuck are you still standing?”

He huffed a laugh, voice still rough from the way he had been groaning your name not even five minutes ago. “Got stamina, sweetheart.”

Yeah. No shit.

Logan sat down with you on top of him, keeping you wrapped in his arms like he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon. He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the couch and pulled it over you, the warmth settling over your already overheated body.

His hands lazily traced your spine, his fingers dragging slow circles that made your skin tingle. Your head rested against his chest, his muscles still taut, his body as warm as a damn furnace.

You sighed, fingers absentmindedly running through the coarse hair on his chest, tracing the dips and ridges of his body like he was some damn Greek statue sculpted out of pure, toned perfection. He let you, saying nothing, just watching you through hooded eyes, his breath deep and slow.

The silence stretched, comfortable—dangerously comfortable.

Which meant you had to ruin it. Obviously.

“So,” you started, tone casual, dragging out the word. “Rules.”

Logan snorted. “Rules?”

You hummed, still absentmindedly tracing your fingers over his abs. “You know, to keep things… simple.”

That got you an amused glance. “Simple?”

You ignored the skepticism in his voice and pushed on. “Yeah. You know, since we agreed this is just—” You gestured vaguely. “—whatever the fuck this is. Casual.”

Something unreadable flickered across Logan’s face. It was gone before you could name it. He hummed, considering. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

You smirked. “Rule one. No catching feelings.”

That earned you a look.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Logan muttered, smirk tugging at his lips. “Just think it’s funny you’re sayin’ that while still layin’ all over me, playin’ with my chest like I’m a damn teddy bear.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck off.”

He chuckled, but said nothing. Didn’t push it. But the amusement didn’t leave his face, and that irritated you more than it should’ve.

You cleared your throat. “Rule two. No staying over.”

Logan arched a brow. “And yet I’m sittin’ here with you curled up in my lap.”

You groaned, pressing your face into his chest. “You’re impossible.”

Logan just smirked. You could feel the smugness radiating off him.

You huffed. “Rule three—”

“Lemme guess. No jealousy?”

You blinked. “Uh, yeah.”

Logan smirked. “That’s cute.”

You frowned. “Why is that cute?”

“‘Cause, sweetheart, I don’t share.”

The way he said it—the deep, husky rasp of his voice, the possessive edge in his tone—sent a shiver down your spine.

You tried to ignore the way your thighs clenched. “That’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”

Logan shrugged. “Maybe.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He just looked amused. Smug. So utterly unbothered.

Asshole.

You huffed, pressing your palm against his chest and pushing yourself up a little so you could properly look at him. “Fine. But I’m still not calling you if I need a ride, or if I wanna crash at your place, or—”

“Uh-huh,” Logan murmured, his hands gripping your waist. “So you’re not gonna call me when you’re thinkin’ about me late at night? Not gonna want this again?”

His hands tightened.

Your breath hitched.

You glared at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

He gaved you that goddamn knowing, cocky grin. “Mmm.”

You hated him. You really did.

You huffed, laying back down, fingers idly brushing over his skin again. “Okay, fine. Maybe a few of these rules are meant to be broken.”

Logan snorted. “All of ‘em are gonna be broken.”

You gave him a playful glare.

Logan chuckled, tilting his head at you. “Alright, so what can we do, huh?”

You blinked. “What?”

He smirked. “C’mon, you’re layin’ down rules, so what’s allowed? What’s okay?”

Your lips parted, but before you could speak, Logan’s hands started moving—trailing over your thighs, your waist, teasing. “We can fuck. That’s obvious,” he murmured, voice all low and gravelly. “But what about you sneakin’ into my bed just to feel me? What about this—” he dragged his teeth along your jaw, making you shudder “—is that okay?”

Your brain had short-circuited. “I—I mean, yeah.”

Logan smirked. “Mmm. And what about me calling you when I need to wreck you?”

You clenched your jaw. “That’s… fine.”

Logan hummed, his breath warm against your skin. Then, just as quickly, the amusement faded, and he leaned back, watching you carefully. “And we can see other people, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

You swallowed. Forced a smirk. “Yeah. Of course.”

Logan held your gaze. “That what you want?”

You hesitated. But what else could you say?

“…Yeah.”

Liar.

The lightness was gone now, replaced with something heavier, something unspoken. Logan exhaled sharply, his hand resting on your thigh, but this time, he didn’t tease.

Neither of you spoke.

Because you both knew the rules wouldn’t matter. And they sure as hell wouldn’t last.

It’s late. Or early. You don’t even know.

The knock on your door wakes you up. Not loud, but firm.

You groggily shuffle to the door, still in your sleepwear—just one of Logan’s old shirts, oversized and worn, barely covering your thighs.

You open it, blinking against the dim light of the hallway.

Logan stands there. Disheveled. Dark circles under his eyes. His breathing uneven. His fists clenched like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“Logan?” Your voice is thick with sleep. Confused. “Are you—”

“Can I come in?”

You pause. His voice is rough—not like usual. Not gruff with amusement or lust, but hoarse. Quiet.

You step aside. “Of course.”

He walks in, head down.

You close the door, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenches. He hesitates—Logan never hesitates. Then, quietly, “I just... needed to see you.”

Your chest tightens.

“Logan,” you murmur, stepping closer. Your hands find his arms, warm and solid. “Talk to me.”

His throat bobs. Then, finally, his eyes meet yours—raw.

“I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

You exhale. That’s all you need to hear.

Wordlessly, you take his hand, guiding him to the bed.

You expect him to just lay down, curl into you, let you hold him.

But when you move to pull away, his hands tighten on your hips.

His gaze is heavy.

Needy.

And then, quietly—almost fragile—he asks:

“Can I have you?”

Your breath catches.

Not fuck. Not need to be inside you. Not a filthy demand.

Just Can I have you?

Like you’re something precious.

Like he doesn’t just want you—he needs you.

You nod.

Slowly, carefully, you press your lips to his.

It starts soft. Gentle. Just a taste.

Then, Logan sighs against your mouth, and the kiss deepens—not rough, not rushed, just aching.

His hands slide up your sides, thumbs tracing your ribs, like he’s memorizing you.

You climb into his lap, straddling him.

He groans into the kiss, hands gripping your waist, but not hard—just enough to hold you.

Then, he pulls back, eyes dark, fingers brushing up your thighs, under your shirt.

“Lemme take care of you,” he murmurs.

And he does.

This time, there’s no tearing, no ripping—he peels your shirt away, slow and reverent, like he’s unwrapping something sacred.

He lays you down, his lips trace your collarbone, down to your chest, his breath hot, hands skimming every inch of skin like he can’t get enough.

His mouth closes around your nipple—soft, wet heat—and you whimper, back arching.

Logan hums against your skin, lapping, sucking just enough to make your stomach tighten.

Then, he keeps going.

Trailing kisses lower.

His hands part your legs, sliding up your inner thighs, teasing—lingering.

When his fingers finally touch you, you gasp.

“Shit, baby,” he breathes, eyes dark, dazed. “You’re already so wet. Always so wet, baby.”

You let out a needy little sound, pushing into his hand.

He grins—small, tender—then slowly slides one finger inside you. Making you whimper.

He presses another inside, curling just right.

“Logan—”

“I got you,” he murmurs. “Just let me make you feel good.”

And he does, God he really does.

His fingers work you open, patient, stretching you until you’re a mess against him.

His mouth follows—hot, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, up your thighs, teasing the spot right beside where you need him most.

Then, finally, his tongue replaces his fingers.

You shudder, hands fisting in his hair.

“Logan,” you cry.

He groans against you, lapping slow, deep strokes that have your legs shaking.

Then, right when you’re about to break, he pulls away.

You try to rise and your protest is cut off by his lips finding yours again, swallowing your whine as he guides you back against the pillows.

His cock drags against your entrance, hot and hard, teasing.

“You still okay?” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

His lips brush your temple. Then—slowly—he pushes inside.

You gasp.

Logan groans—deep, wrecked, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he sinks into you.

You feel everything.

The stretch. The heat. The way his breath stutters as he fills you completely.

His hands find your hips, holding you there, like he needs a second.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You feel... fuck.”

He pulls back, thrusting in slow, deep rolls of his hips.

No pounding. No bruising grip.

Just this—a steady, aching rhythm, like he’s drowning in you.

You moan, nails dragging down his back.

His mouth finds yours again—kissing you through every slow, deep thrust.

Every movement is deliberate. Devotional.

His lips brush your jaw. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect.”

A kiss against your throat. “So fuckin’ good to me.”

Another at your collarbone. “You got me, sweetheart. You have me so good… I'm all yours.”

Your chest tightens.

You pull him closer, wrapping around him, and Logan groans, pressing deeper, tilting his hips just right until you shudder beneath him.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Let me feel you. Let me have this, my sweet girl.”

And when you finally fall apart, he follows, burying himself deep, spilling inside you with a shuddering breath.

The only sound left is your ragged breathing.

His weight sinks into you, warm and solid.

His lips ghost your temple.

Then, his voice—small, barely above a whisper:

“Can— Can I stay?”

Your fingers tighten in his hair.

“I don’t want you going anywhere.”

It's all so comfortable that you didn't notice when you fell asleep. You just wake up slowly. Warm. Wrapped in something solid.

It takes a second for your sleep-heavy brain to register it.

Then, you feel it.

The heavy weight of an arm slung low over your waist. A hand resting at your ribs, fingers curled lightly against your skin. The warmth of another body, pressed flush against yours.

You inhale—and the scent of him fills your lungs.

Logan.

Your stomach tightens.

Last night.

The way he showed up at your door, quiet and not-quite-broken but close. The way he touched you—like he needed you. The way he kissed you, slow and deep, like he was memorizing you.

The way he—

Your breath shudders.

Logan stirs behind you.

His arm tightens for a split second, his body shifting, his nose brushing the back of your shoulder before he stills again.

You swallow.

Your pulse is too loud.

You should move. Say something. Anything.

But you don’t.

You just lay there, tangled up in him.

Minutes pass.

Then, he sighs—a deep, slow exhale against your skin.

“…You awake?” His voice is hoarse—thick with sleep.

You pause. “Yeah.”

His hand shifts slightly against your ribs, like he might pull away.

You should let him, but you don’t.

Instead, you reach down, fingers brushing over his knuckles, light.

Then—slowly—he relaxes again, keeping his arm where it is.

The shift is small—barely there.

But it’s everything.

A moment passes. Then, with a rough, gruff exhale, Logan stretches, pulling back just enough to roll onto his back.

The absence of his warmth is instant.

You turn, watching as he scrubs a hand over his face, eyes still half-lidded.

Then, he shifts, glancing at you. His expression is unreadable. His brows furrow slightly, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.

So you do what you always do—mask it.

You smirk. “So, uh… you always wake up this clingy?”

Logan snorts, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Shut up.”

You grin. “You were wrapped around me like a damn koala.”

“Tch.” He shakes his head, rubbing at his face. “You’re full of shit.”

“You nuzzled me.”

“I didn’t nuzzle you.”

“You definitely nuzzled.”

Logan gives you a look, but there’s no real bite behind it. Just something softer. Something that wasn’t there before.

For a second, neither of you say anything.

The weight of last night lingers between you.

Then, Logan clears his throat.

“So,” he mutters, voice lower. “You, uh…” He glances away, fingers tapping once against his thigh. “You good?”

Your chest tightens.

He’s asking if you regret it.

You should make a joke. Should keep it light, keep things easy.

But you don’t.

You nod. “Yeah.”

He shakes his head. “Good.”

The silent is not awkward, not really. Just… uncertain.

Neither of you know how to act.

You both know something’s different.

But saying it out loud?

That’s something else entirely.

So instead, Logan grunts, pushing himself up. “You got coffee?”

You blink at him.

That’s it? That’s how he’s handling this?

You should’ve expected that.

You sit up, the covers slipping down your chest. Logan’s eyes flicker lower for half a second before he pointedly looks away.

Oh.

That’s new.

The Logan from before wouldn’t have looked away. He would’ve stared, smirked, made some cocky comment.

But now?

Now, he’s acting like he's trying not to cross a line.

Like last night meant something.

Like he doesn’t want to fuck it up.

You feel like your heart is going to explode.

You should let him off the hook.

Make it easy.

So you stretch, deliberately slow, grinning. “Yeah, but you’re making it.”

Logan snorts, “Figures.”

He stands, stretching his arms over his head, muscles flexing, still gloriously shirtless. Then, with one last glance at you, he turns toward the door.

He doesn’t say anything else.

But as he passes, he strokes your hair—just barely.

It’s nothing.

It’s everything.

And you feel it.

More gentleness. More care. More of him letting you in.

And for now?

That’s enough.

For now.

After that night, everything changed. The change was subtle at first. A softer gaze held for a second too long, a touch lingering past its excuse. The air between you and Logan had shifted since that night. But despite the warmth settling between you, neither of you had spoken about it.

It’s in the way Logan lingers when he stays over at your apartment, the way his hand brushes over your back absentmindedly when you pass by him in the kitchen. How he steals bites of your food, even when he has his own plate, or how he drinks from your coffee mug like it belongs to him. The way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, how his fingers trace over your skin for a little too long when he helps you close up the coffee shop late at night.

There was also that morning when you woke up first, tangled in his arms, his face buried against your neck. You should have slipped out of bed, put some distance between you. Instead, you stayed. You ran your fingers through his hair, your touch light, like you were memorizing the feel of him. When he stirred, blinking up at you with sleepy confusion, you just murmured, "Go back to sleep."

And he did.

Sometimes, he stays longer than he should. Sometimes, he watches you move around your apartment, making coffee, hair still a mess from sleep, and his heart does something stupid and reckless—like want more.

Like when you were cooking in the kitchen, wearing nothing but one of his shirts, and he came up behind you, hands on your hips, voice rough in your ear. "You’re making it real hard for me to behave right now."

You turned, arching a brow. "Since when do you behave?"

He kissed you then, slow and deep, backing you up against the counter, and you never did finish breakfast that morning.

Or the night you’d had a long shift and fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up in bed, blankets tucked around you, the faintest trace of cigar smoke lingering in the air. You hadn’t questioned it. Neither had he.

Logan would come by your coffee shop almost every morning, sitting at his usual corner table, nursing a black coffee while you worked. He didn’t say much, but his presence spoke louder than words. Sometimes, he stayed until closing, walking you home, a silent promise unspoken between you. In your apartment, things felt different too.

One night, you were sprawled on your couch after another heated round, both half-dressed, your legs draped over his lap. The TV played some old movie neither of you were watching. Logan’s fingers absently traced circles on your bare thigh, his touch lazy, almost distracted.

He exhaled through his nose, then muttered, "Uh… should we be doin’ this? This doesn’t seem very casual."

You tilted your head to look at him, amused. "Lo, we're friends, right? We sleep together, we're friends too, so it’s fine. Right?"

Logan's fingers hesitated for just a second before continuing their slow path over your skin. "Yeah, I guess." He shifted slightly, his jaw tightening. "I just don’t want us to get things mixed up and... get weird."

You grinned, unable to resist teasing him. "Weird? Are you getting too attached to me already, Logan?"

He scoffed, giving your thigh a light squeeze. "As if."

Your grin widened. "C'mon, you like me. Admit it. I bet if I disappeared, you’d miss me."

"I’d miss the sex," he shot back without hesitation, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away.

You feigned offense, placing a hand over your heart. "Wow. And here I was thinking we had something special."

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a flicker of something softer behind them. You nudged him playfully with your foot. "It’s fine, Logan. I consider you my friend, besides everything else. And we can hang out, you know... besides just hanging out so you can be inside me."

That made him snort, shaking his head. "You're a piece of work."

You gasped dramatically. "Was that a compliment? From the great Wolverine? I'm honored."

Before you could react, he grabbed you and pushed you against the couch, settling above you with an amused grunt as you laughed beneath him. "You’re real smug for someone who just got pinned, sweetheart."

"Oh, please, I let you do this," you shot back, breathless from laughter.

Logan just smirked down at you, but the warmth in his gaze lingered a second too long. And you felt it again—that thing neither of you were saying out loud. But instead of pulling away, he let himself stay close, just for a moment longer.

Then, the misunderstanding happened.

Logan was pulling his jacket on when Laura spoke up from the couch.

"Where you going?" she asked, flipping through some book.

"Coffee shop," Logan grunted, grabbing his keys.

Laura made a face. "You sure?"

His brow furrowed. "Yeah. Why?"

She shrugged. "I dunno… I think she’s not there."

Logan stilled. "The hell you mean?"

Laura hesitated, eyes flicking toward Wade, who was too busy making inappropriate balloon animals to notice their conversation. Then she looked back at Logan. "I maybe saw her going into her apartment a little while ago. With some guy."

The words hit him like a gut punch.

He forced himself to keep his expression neutral, to shrug like it didn’t matter. "You sure?" His voice came out gruff, unreadable.

Laura just gave him a look, like she could see right through him. "Pretty sure."

Logan clenched his jaw. He didn't say anything, just grabbed his keys and left.

He told himself it was nothing. That it wasn’t his business. That he wasn’t the kind of guy to get jealous.

Casual meant casual. No strings, no expectations, no messy emotions that left a man raw and aching.

But then he checked the coffee shop anyway.

And when he found it dark, closed earlier than usual, something in his chest twisted.

His feet carried him back to the apartment before his brain even caught up. He didn’t know what he was expecting—maybe for you to already be alone, for Laura to be wrong. But standing at your damn front door, he heard it.

A voice.

A man’s voice.

Muffled through the walls, deep, unfamiliar. Logan stood there, heart slamming against his ribs, pulse pounding in his ears. His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.

He should walk away.

He should not fucking care.

But he did.

Goddamn it, he did.

He didn't sleep. The thought of you with someone else—another man's hands on you, another man's mouth on your skin—was a sickness in his veins. By the time morning came, he'd convinced himself that he was fine, that it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t like you owed him anything.

The next day, when he saw you, all cute and soft-eyed like nothing had happened, it took every ounce of restraint not to snap.

"Hey," you greeted, stepping close, smiling up at him. "You okay?"

His stomach twisted. "Yeah."

You frowned. "You sure? You seem—"

"You should’ve told me."

The words were out before he could stop them. Your brow furrowed, confusion flickering across your face. "Told you what?"

Logan scoffed, a bitter sound, and rubbed his jaw. "That you had someone over." His eyes flickered over your face, searching for something—guilt, confirmation, anything. "We agreed, didn't we? Casual means we can do what we want, see who we want. But you could’ve given me a fuckin’ heads-up. Could’ve saved me the trouble of showin’ up lookin’ like a damn fool."

Your stomach twisted. "Logan—"

"I ain't mad," he cut in quickly, lying through his fucking teeth. "You don't owe me shit. Just sayin', would’ve been nice to know before I walked into the coffee shop last night expectin’ to see you, only to find out you were already home—with him." His voice darkened, something sharp behind it. "Shoulda figured, huh?"

You blinked. "Wait— you think—Logan, it's not—"

"Don’t sugarcoat it," he muttered. "Laura told me and I heard him in your goddamn apartment."

"Yeah? And what exactly did Laura think she saw?" Your voice was firm now, pushing back against the storm in his eyes.

His jaw tensed. "A guy, in your fuckin’ apartment."

"Jesus, Logan," you breathed, pressing your fingers against your temples. "That guy—he’s not some random hookup, okay? He—" You let out an exasperated breath."He's my landlord. He was fixing my damn heater."

Logan froze.

You crossed your arms. "So, unless you think I’m screwing my fifty-year-old landlord with a beer belly and a receding hairline, maybe take a second to think before jumping to conclusions."

The weight in his chest lifted instantly, but the embarrassment settled in just as fast. Logan swallowed, running a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling stupid.

You sighed. "For God's sake. You really thought I’d do that?"

Logan was quiet for a long beat before he finally muttered, "Wouldn’t blame you if you did."

You frowned. "What?"

"You heard me," he gritted out, looking anywhere but at you. "Wasn’t like this was meant to be serious, right?" He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Ain't like I’m the kinda guy a girl settles down with."

Your chest tightened. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

His head snapped up, eyes locking with yours.

"You really think I still see this as some casual, meaningless thing?" you demanded. "That I'm just out here screwing around with other people? That I'm not completely fucking yours?"

Logan felt like the air had been punched from his lungs.

"I don't want to be casual, Logan. I haven't been casual—not for a long time. In my head, I’m already with you." Your voice softened, filled with something deep, something unshakable. "And I thought you felt the same."

His throat worked around his next words. "You thought right."

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly, but his expression was still guarded. " But if you felt that way, then why the hell are we still pretending?" he asked, voice rough, edged with something raw. "Why are we still actin’ like this doesn’t mean anything?"

You hesitated, searching his face. "I was scared," you admitted softly. "Scared that if we said it out loud, it’d break whatever this is. That it’d make it real, and real means it can be lost. And I'm sorry for yesterday, for not saying anything."

Logan exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair before settling on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. "Darlin’, it’s already real," he murmured. "Has been since the damn start. I—hell, I tried to keep it casual, tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, but it does. You do."

Your heart pounded at his words. "Logan…"

The next second, he was kissing you.

Desperate, claiming, like he had to make up for every second he’d spent doubting this, doubting you. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body telling you everything he hadn’t said in words.

You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair, anchoring yourself to him. "Idiot," you mumbled against his lips. "You should’ve just talked to me yearly."

He huffed out a breath, forehead pressing to yours. "Yeah, well... talkin’ ain’t my strong suit, and it looks like it isn't yours either."

You smiled, brushing your nose against his."Good thing we have everything resolved now. That this is real."

Logan let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening. "Damn right. It's always been real, princess."

But this time, he wasn’t letting you go.

He cupped your cheek, voice gruff but sure. "You’re mine, darlin’." His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, gaze locked onto yours. "Always were."

Your heart clenched. "I am, Lo. And you’re mine."

Logan exhaled, leaning in, pressing one last kiss to your lips. "Yeah," he murmured. "Yeah, I am."

And then, he kissed you again—slow, deep, a promise written in the way he held you. A promise that he wasn’t going anywhere. It felt natural; like you belong to each other. Something profound and permanent. That this wasn’t just some arrangement anymore. No more lying and not saying what you really feel. No more faking about what you really mean to each other.

Finally, finally, no more pretending.

Just you and him.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

lina's notes: yayy so we've finally reached the end!! First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for all the love for this series and all the repercussion it has achieved!! When I wrote that little drabble, I didn't expect you guys to like it so much and for it to turn into a series, so I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart <3 I loved writing this so much and I'm a little sad that it's over lol. I kind of enjoyed writing about the development of this relationship between Logan and neighbor!reader. Maybe in the future I'll write some more separate things for this series if you guys want… 🫣 (and feel free to send me requests for this series at some point, if you wish) 💜

taglist: @namikyento @cruel-as-sin @lilzilla1scool @weallhaveadestiny @killerwendigo @forksloree @fandomxo @matronmothercrone @unlikeable-female-character @blossomingorchids @eternalssunshine (if you want to be added or removed let me know <3)

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett angst #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett #logan wolverine #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett oneshot #worst wolverine x you #worst wolverine x reader #worst wolverine #wolverine fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine #the wolverine #wolverine #hugh jackman fanfic #logan howlett 🪽

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a-leg-without-fear · 10 months ago

Text

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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#logan howlett #wolverine #hugh jackman #xmen #x2 xmen united #logan howlett fanfic #wolverine fanfic #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #mutant!f!reader #trying my hand at writing combat!! what do we think?

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