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itsmemuffy · 6 hours ago

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— through the garden

logan howlett x mutant!f!reader

rated e - 2.3k

tags: mutant!f!reader, (newly) established relationship, domestic predator/prey, a chase through the grounds, two cuties in love, flowers as a physical & metaphorical symbol for love, outdoor sex, PiV, creampie

a/n: part i of heat waves. a little summer blorbo series ☀️ I imagined the reader in this to be the same as from eden - back when they first met 💖

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

Logan finds you in the garden.

You hoped he would. Needing the open sky above him after so many hours spent inside training - almost as much as he needs you.

Finally leaning into that pull that has been woven between you since the beginning.

Taking root, blossoming in your ribcage until you felt full to bursting. Biting back soft sentiments, knowing it was too soon to voice something your heart had known for so long.

A silhouette that starts dark against the stone walls of the mansion. The familiar white tee and worn blue jeans streaked with a sunset of pink and orange as he moves closer.

That steady pace that you had picked up on, kneeling in the dirt. Weeds yanked from the root, exchanged for fresh bulbs. Eyes flicking towards the sounds of his steps. Slowly rising, and you wait - the heavy weight of your responsibilities shed out here.

Leaving just you and your thudding heart behind.

Your gaze meet his, that pretty shade of brown and green. Close enough now that he can catch the flash of your teeth with your grin and then -

You’re running.

There’s a surprised huff behind you - you can picture his frown, that drawn-together pull of dark eyebrows. A heartbeat passing, before the thud of his boots follow.

You knew he would. Unable to help, after he saw you. Some animal part inside him let free - enticing him into the chase.

Only your knowledge of the grounds and lightness of foot keeps you a step ahead. A laugh echos in the hedge garden - the press of your feet against worn stone, weaving down the paths. Ducking around berms, flowers that spill over in shade of pink and pale cream.

Following a trail you know as well as the back of your hand. Leading you deeper, and deeper into the grounds.

Anticipation spikes, with each heavy step behind you. The thudding spike of excitement and fear blending with the hope that he will catch up.

Heat already pooling low, with that tell-tale twinge of need. Damping the fabric between your thighs, as you flit through the thick line of trees.

Goosebumps prickle across your skin, sweat beading at the nape of your neck.

Just managing to make it through to other side. The long, dirt path before you, framed with the thin, pointed junipers you’d had tended yourself.

Only the roof of the mansion visible behind you through the tall grove as you peel off to the left, and race towards the lake.

The steps behind you coming faster on open ground, as your heart inches up your throat. Unhindered by the weight he carries now, making up for the time spent winding through trees.

Finally catching you, at the old tree by the edge of the water. Arms encircling your waist, ensnaring you as you gasp with surprise and pleasure.

A nose buried in your neck, as Logan crushes your back against his chest. Ignoring the way you wiggle in his grasp, the words almost growled out.

“Think you’re cute? Tryin’ to run.”

The hot exhale of breath makes you shiver, even as you smile, “Didn’t think you’d catch up so easily. Thought I lost you in the garden.”

Logan scoffs, grip tightening, “Could find you anywhere, sweetheart.”

His voice pitching lower then, something just for you.

“Can’t hide from me.”

And you know what he means. That it’s useless to try, not with his senses.

Not with the honey-sweet stickiness between your thighs, his own personal bouquet. A reveal one he loosened during one of your early nights together.

On another evening, you might be embarrassed. Reminded again how he must have known how you felt long before you told him. Cataloging the thundering of your heart. The look in your eyes, the perfume that bloomed across your skin.

Holding himself back for weeks, waiting for you to come to him. To finally take the offers he’d been dangling, wrapped up in slick innuendo - for what they really were.

The butterflies in your stomach burst from their branches. A thrill igniting, pulsing low. Awakening that dormant part inside you, one that wouldn’t mind a chase like this again.

And he senses it - that change inside you, as you squirm to face him. The way your eyes darken when they finally meet his own blown-wide ones, that hitch in your breath.

“And what are you going to do?” You manage, “Now that you caught me?”

His own gaze turning greedy. The flash of teeth in a knowing smile, before his mouth presses to yours.

Letting you feel what the chase - what you - did to him. His tongue dips against the seam of your lips as your hand flattens over his racing heart. How he tugs you flush until it’s impossible to miss the thick bulge in his jeans, straining against the zipper.

The words growled out, with the rut of his hips.

“Gonna take what’s mine.”

Your moan is swallowed, as you’re lowered with him. Tucked against the tree where so many afternoons had been spent beneath the sprawling branches.

Turning pages and lesson plans jotted down between stolen kisses.

Thighs split to make room for him, as the setting sun is blotted out by the breath of his shoulders. Arching over you - unable to stop touching, now that he has you.

It’s almost like you glow beneath him. The pleased curl of your lips, eyes half-lidded. Soaking in the sun all afternoon, warming you down to your bones.

Turning your limbs leaden, as he molds you to fit him. Elbows braced on broad shoulders as your arms twine around. A broad hand spanning across the small of your back, as you let him steal another kiss.

And then another.

You part for him. Moaning into the lick of his tongue. Fingers twisting into thick, dark hair - mussing its careful styling.

All the while his own hands wander. Nearly as methodical as the chase - brushing over learned places that send a shiver down your spine.

Jaw and neck, the pad of his thumb running over your sternum. A knuckle teasing the curve of your breast, as your teeth press against his lip.

Lower, lower.

He cups you, then - a palm curving against your cunt. Hips shifting, as he groans in your ear. Fingers toying at the hem of your shirt, inching it up until his other palm can slip beneath.

Kneading at your breast, feeling the tight bud of your nipple beneath the thin bra.

“We should-“ The start of a protest is half-hearted.

Your game had taken you away from the garden grounds. Unlikely to be disturbed this late in the evening.

And already you’re pressing into his touch - rolling your body until the heel of the hand below grinds against your clit.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Another moan slips free at his words - half command and half plea. Your own fingers sliding from his biceps, the fabric tugged taught over them. Up to lace behind his neck, and draw his mouth down to yours again.

Hunger licks at you both - in the part of your lips, how eager he is to deepen it. Your legs close around his hips as he leans into you, the hand leaving your core so his thigh can press between yours.

His hum echoing yours as the seam of your shorts pull taut, hinting at friction as he gives you something to grind against.

Relief and the need for more twisting together, as he flexes into the roll of your hips. Another nudge and then another, until your own plea slips free.

“Please, Logan.”

There’s another hum, amusement at your impatience - only breaking the kiss long enough to hike your thighs up. The hand leaving your tits to hook around your shorts and underwear. Yanking them down as your knees press against his chest, as his other hand works at the thick, silver belt buckle at his waist.

A sigh against your lips, as he tugs himself free. Pressing you back into the cradle of strong roots as he ruts against your thigh. Hot and heavy, smearing his need against your skin until you manage to reach down.

Fingers encircling the thick shaft of his cock, tipping it until the head nudges against your slit.

Logan is already bucking forward. Knowing you can take it - could smell how ready you were the moment he brought you to the ground.

“Fuck.” It’s ground out, as your heat wraps around him. The slick slide as he sinks in one inch, and then another, “S’what you needed, isn’t it? What you were waiting for.”

“Yes.” You pant, back arching, “Yes, I need it. Need you.”

Eyes fluttering as your ankles end up braced against a shoulder. The bite of his nails against your calf as he seats himself inside you, another betrayal at how deep his need runs as well.

Enough that leaning into it. Near bending you in half in an attempt to get closer. Needing to feel every inch notched deep inside you, pressed flush until the coarse hairs at the base of his cock tease at your clit. The slick drip of your cunt sticky against the heavy sack that rests against your ass.

Stripped down to your bones, you’re just like him.

Needing this as much as he does, still basking in the open air and the sinking sun above, even if you do have to bite back your sounds.

“More.” You manage instead, when he takes too long.

A rough sound in response, almost a growl, before it’s almost becoming too much. Another sharp, single thrust has you fully split open, before he begins short snaps of his hips to keep you full.

Bliss radiates inside you - your fingers quick to drift down, across your belly. Teasing at your clit, as his hands tighten around your legs. Using the leverage to lean back - to watch - as he’s dragged half-way out. The slick sound as he thrusts back in.

How your fingers twitch and stutter. Pressing harder. Lips parting in a pant as he sets a steady rhythm, thighs smacking against the curve of your ass.

Letting your fingers fist in his shirt. Wrinkling the fabric as your hips try to move to meet his. Gasping breath each time he stokes against a spot that brings out the midnight stars early.

Winding you higher, higher. A babble of “yes” and “please”, and “oh my god, don’t stop-“, tumbling from you over and over.

The seeds planted with the first steps of your chase starting to push to the surface, as your fingers trace down to feel him. A low grunt as they tease along his shaft, only to pull more of your slick arousal back up to the throbbing between your thighs.

His gaze snaps back to yours when the words peter out - catching the way you’ve gone stiff, breath held. Eyes half-lidded as your muscles flex beneath his palm, how your fingers move faster as you tighten around his cock.

“Logan-“

“I know.” It’s gritted out.

“Know you’re right fuckin’ there with me. Wanna feel you squeeze it, honey-“

The words cut off, with his groan. The long strokes turning shallow again as he grinds himself deep. His hands dropping to the gnarled roots below, the crack of bark as he chases his own end. Another sharp rut, before he’s spilling inside you.

Your answer is a loose tumble of sounds as you follow, with the throb of his cock. Fingers rubbing soaked flesh as the feel of the warmth spreading inside you sends you over the edge.

A cry cracks through the evening light, as the pleasure bursts from you. The small peppering of buds across the roots of the tree unfurling - petals twisting open as you pulse around him. Stretching out in all directions, blooming over your skin and twisting up the trunk of the tree.

The prick of rose thorns against your wrist. The petal unfurling on the peonies beneath you, as his hips slow. Camellia and gardenia worn like a second skin.

Out of season, but not for you.

It’s lucky, that he has his claws. The punch of metal through flesh, reflecting the sharp grin as he carefully cuts you free.

You’d be one with the earth, without it. Broken down into your base needs, blanketed the emotions buried so deep inside you.

Funny that the man who caused them, would be the one to free you as well.

Silken petals twirl between blunt fingers. A flash of red before the bud is tucked behind your ear. A rose blooming against your temple.

Logan’s expression must match yours, as his arm stretches out. Leaning into this garden you’ve created, cushioned with the physical manifestation of your heart - now worn so clearly on your sleeve.

“Yours, huh?” It slips from you. A call back to earlier - those growled out words as you wriggled in his arms.

“Yeah.” It’s husked out, “That gonna be a problem?”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you grin.

“Never.”

There’s a low huff, his own laugh, as his eyes tip up to the sky.

It used to bother you. The blooms. How obvious they made you feel. Nothing hidden, in the sprout of petal across your skin.

But right now-

You don’t think you’d have it any other way.

It takes longer to move. To find your leaden legs again. Tugged to your feet, heat warming your cheeks at you fix your clothes back in place.

Still not ready for the gossip. The teasing, despite everything and the affection laced within the words.

The grounds are dark now, as your hand fits in his. Taking the slower route back home, down the path and through the forest. The mansion looming back into view, as you’re drawn back into your life, once more.

“Logan, wait.”

You almost forget.

The blissful smile faltering as your bare feet dig into the ground. Plucking at the petals that still linger in your hair, trying to rid yourself of the evidence.

Still shy, at the way he affects you. How he makes you lose control - your shared tree will surely remain adorned, until tomorrow.

Hands close around your wrists. The brush of a thumb against your pulse, where your heartbeat thrums. Halting you, drawing them back down as he takes you in.

“Don’t.” Logan husks.

“I like ‘em.”

thank you so much for reading!! 💐 it seriously means the world 💖

#🔥🔥🥵 sooo hot and fun good lord #fanfic #Logan Howlett x reader

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itsmemuffy · 7 days ago

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Old Man Logan x Nurse!Reader fic

Oh i have written my first bit of smut! It's not very smutty but it's there, right in the first few paragraphs.

This was written over the past few days and I really rather like it. I hope you do. No proof reading here, we embrace our spelling mistakes and appalling grammar

Tw - smut under the cut

You honestly don’t think this was how you would end your evening. Flat on your back on your bed, Logan thrusting between your spread legs, grunting in your ear as you let loose breathy moans in his, your heels digging into his bucking backside, his fingers fumbling between you both, finding your center, stroking, rubbing, almost in time with his hips, still pumping away, his thick cock hitting you in all the right places.

His mouth found yours just as you let out wail, your cunt clenching around him as you came. Came harder than you think you ever had. He swallowed down your scream with his kiss, continuing to thrust himself into you, his own release not far behind. The pace of his hips began to stutter and you felt him then, deep inside you, pulsing. He stilled, his lips touching yours but not kissing, his breath hitching as he emptied himself into you.

You both lay there, still entangled, Logan trying to make sure he didn’t crush you under his much heavier frame, both breathing heavily waiting to come back to earth, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you were sure Logan could feel it. You tangled your fingers into his hair and pulled his head towards you, kissing him deeply. As you parted you stared up into those hazel eyes, eyes that looked a little taken aback by what just happened. Logan smiled down at you. ‘I guess we crossed a line, huh?’

Logan had been a regular at your favourite diner for over a year now. You went in at the end of your shift at the hospital to get some much needed caffeine and carbs and you couldn’t help but notice the man sitting in the corner booth. He radiated ‘do not even fucking look at me’ vibes and you were happy to leave him be. He was polite enough to the wait staff but otherwise you never saw him engage with another person. Until the night a few months ago when you were just about to enter the building and a limo screeched into the parking lot. You stood and watched as Logan’s shambling form almost fell out of the car. It was nearly 2am and you could see the blood on his shirt even in the dim fluorescent of the street lights. Instinct took over and you ran to him.

‘Hey, I’m a nurse, I can help,’ you said, only just stopping him from face planting onto the gravel of the lot. He grunted and stared up at you, unfocused at first but his vision becoming clearer as you manoeuvred him back to sit on the driver’s seat. You gently eased his black suit jacket off and started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He tried to move your hands away but you slapped his down. ‘You’ve been shot,’ you said ‘No shit…’ came the reply. As you pulled his shirt off and started on his undershirt, you paused. He’d been shot three times. Twice in the chest and once in the stomach. He should, by rights, be dead. And yet…. Then you watched in astonishment as he braced himself against the back of the seat and pushed out the bullets one by one. They made a small noise as they plopped wetly to the gravel outside the car. The wounds were still bleeding but the flow was slowing. You took an involuntary step back and he looked over at you, eyes half closed with tiredness and pain. ‘I’m fine sweetheart,’ he sighed out, ‘get out of here’ You didn’t move. Just looked at the wounds and how the blood flow had now stopped , the crusting of scabs starting to develop. You watched as he poked at the holes. ‘Seems to take longer and longer each time,’ he muttered ‘What do you mean?’ You asked, ‘you should be dead’ He leant his head back against the seat and groaned. ‘About a thousand times over, darlin’’ ‘What are you?’ You asked quietly. He turned his head to look at you. His expression said well what the hell do you think I am? ‘I didn’t think people like you existed anymore. I mean I’d heard stories…’ you trailed off He gave a short laugh that developed into a cough. Instinctively you went to him and put a gentle hand on his chest. ‘Did it hit a lung?’ You asked ‘Probably,’ came the reply, ‘be coughing up blood for bit until that’s healed’. He looked at you again. ‘Once upon a time I could have shaken this off like it was a flea bite’ and smiled sadly ‘Once upon a time huh?’ He closed his eyes and let out a long breath ‘That’s how all the best stories start, isn’t it?’ ‘I guess they do.’

That was the start. The start of a story you never imagined to find yourself in. Every night you joined Logan in his booth and you spent a few hours chatting. You’d complain about your shift, the doctors trying to hit on you, the patients, the state of the world in general. He told you, eventually, about his mutation, his healing and how it was slowing down. He showed you his claws, once, after you bugged him until he unsheathed them. ‘Happy now?’ He asked, smirking a little at the shocked look on your face. ‘Not really…’ you gulped. You had to admit the idea of them sounded so cool. The reality just looked painful. You’d reached out and touched the scars between his knuckles after, the soreness still evident on his face, your fingertips resting lightly upon them. You sat like that for some time, neither of you moving. Logan stared at your hands, seemingly unable to process that someone would be willing to touch him there. It was the first time you had touched him since the night he had been shot.

He told you about Charles. You were able to give him advice on what medications might be more helpful. You told him you wished you could do more, maybe see what they had at work.. ‘No,’ he said interrupting you, shaking his head, ‘I’d never ask that of you. You don’t need to be putting your job at risk like that. Okay?’ You nodded back at him. He was right, of course. It would be utter stupidity to even try and take anything from the hospital. ‘You do enough,’ he said quietly, looking up at you from under his lashes, ‘there’s no need for you to spend so much time with an old asshole like me but you do. I ‘ppreciate it.’ He smirked, ‘and it doesn’t do my ego much harm to be seen with a beautiful woman’ You smacked his arm. ‘Stop saying that,’ you chided, ‘I’m anything but’ And you felt justified in saying so. After a 12 hours shift (with a few hours overtime) you felt grubby and smelly. Whatever careful bun you’d pinned your hair up in was now hanging on by sheer dogged stubbornness. But Logan wouldn’t hear it. Coming from someone else you would be creeped out by it but for some reason when Logan says it you believe it and you preen a little. Besides you’d told him how handsome he is more than once and received a snort of derision in reply. ‘Maybe once I was. Now I’m old and grey and…broken’ You hummed in agreement and took a sip of coffee. Logan looked at you, mock offended. ‘You know you’re supposed to tell me I’m not any of those things’ You laughed ‘I mean you look pretty great for nearly 200 but you really are old and grey. Sorry,’ and you smiled to show you weren’t sorry at all.

You couldn’t help smiling when Logan smiled. It happened so rarely but when it did it always happened with you. It made him even more handsome. You told him that once and he blushed. Which of course you teased him for.

Your flirtations never went beyond that, as much as both of you may have wanted it to. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement that whatever this was it only existed within the walls of the diner and those few hours in the morning. Logan never made any further demands on you and nor you on him. It felt good, an oasis of calm in a world that was anything but. For those few hours nothing else mattered. Some nights you both talked endlessly, some nights you sat quietly, Logan reading the whatever battered paperback he’d picked up, you scrolling on your phone, the soft noises of whatever stupid matching game you were currently addicted to the only noise.

At least, they never went any further until the night your car wouldn’t start. You stood up from the booth and raised your arms up, stretching out your back and letting loose a small groan. You didn’t see Logan taking a glance at how your top rose up and showed off your soft belly. You didn’t see him look quickly away as you put your arms down. You yawned and smiled at him. ‘I think it’s time for home and bed,’ you said. Logan grunted as he made his way out of the booth and followed you out of the diner. ‘I’m not on tomorrow,’ you squinted as you tried to recall your schedule, then smiled, ‘actually I have three days off.’ ‘Lucky you,’ Logan smiled. ‘I’ll miss you,’ you teased, nudging him with your hip. He snorted ‘Yeah sure you will. Go on, get lost.’ He nodded his head towards where your car was parked. You walked away, waving back at him. You knew Logan never drove off himself until he saw your car moving off down the road. Except tonight, your car wouldn’t start.

Logan wandered over as you got out of the car. ‘What’s wrong?’ ‘No idea, just won’t turn over.’ You ground the heels of your hands into your eyes and let out a frustrated scream. ‘Hey,’ Logan began, ‘it’s not a disaster. I can drop you home and you can get this sorted in the morning.’ ‘I guess,’ you whined ‘On the plus side no one will be able to steal it,’ Logan smirked You glared at him ‘I hate you.’ He smirked again ‘C’mon, let me take you home in style’

You had to admit, being driven in a limo was quite the thing. ‘Enjoying yourself back there?’ Logan asked, his eyes showing his smile in the rear view mirror. ‘I could get used to this,’ you agreed ‘Yeah well first one’s for free,’ he said ‘Damn…’ Logan laughed and before you knew it he was pulling up outside your apartment. ‘Thank you so much,’ you said leaning into the open window and giving him a peck on the cheek.

And then you don’t know quite what happened. The next thing you were kissing each other like it was the only thing keeping you both alive. You practically dragged Logan into your building, never parting from him even as you rode the elevator. As soon as you entered your apartment - you broke away so you could find your keys - you were on each other again.

After, laying sweaty and satiated, legs still twisted together, you both were silent. You looked over at Logan, just staring up at the ceiling, the rise and fall of his chest the only movement. ‘Do you regret what we did?’ You asked quietly. The pillow rustled as he turned to look at you ‘No. No not at all. Do you?’ You edged close to him and rested your head on his chest. ‘Not for a second’ You felt Logan’s hand moving slowly up and down your back. ‘Good,’ he said ‘When did you last have a vaction?’ You asked Logan snorted. ‘Maybe never.’ ‘So if I suggested that you spend the next three days with me just…y'know…fucking…what would you say to that?’ You felt Logan shift underneath you. ‘I dunno, sweetheart, that might take some thinking about,’ ‘I’m sorry I know you need to be back home for Charles and…’ You never finished your sentence because Logan kissed you. ‘Charles is fine. Caliban is fine. Those new meds you mentioned are working wonders. I can stay. I want to stay.’

And so he did.

#lovely as always ;*#fanfic #Logan Howlett x reader

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