#I RELIED IN YOU LOGAN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mcrdvcks · 17 days

Text

Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious

Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.

Word Count: 17.4k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)

i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.

i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!

warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader

You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.

At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.

It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhD’s for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.

After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didn’t know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think you’ve got the hang of it.

You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.

Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. “You done for the day, sweetheart?”

You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldn’t have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.

When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.

Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.

“Just about,” you replied, straightening the stack. “I was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?”

Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. “Can’t a guy just drop by and check in on ya?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess, but somehow I doubt you’re just here to ‘check in.’” You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. “So, what’s up?”

Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. “You’ve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesn’t take me long. Unlike someone else.”

Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlin’."

You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re just mad because I keep proving I’m right.” You rounded your desk, smirking. “Plus, I’m having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. “Movie night, huh? Lemme guess—something boring and science-y?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. “Not every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didn’t believe you for a second. “So, what are you watchin’, then? Some quantum physics thriller?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “It’s The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so don’t knock them.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. “I’ll let it slide this time, darlin’. But if I hear you talkin’ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your ‘break,’ I’m dragging you out of that mansion myself.”

You gave him a mock-serious look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “And we both know I could.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you up—literally—and dragging you away when he thought you’d been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.

Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. “Look, Y/N, I’m serious. You’ve been bustin’ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?”

There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. “I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.”

“Good,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “’Cause I don’t wanna hear about you passin’ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.”

You walked to the door and turned back to face him, “Einstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.” You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.

Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everything—whether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missions—had caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.

He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an area—your perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought he’d never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.

And that was why he found you so fascinating.

You were brilliant, no doubt about it—always talking about equations, theories, and whatever else you’d been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.

It wasn’t like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Logan’s eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldn’t. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you weren’t around.

---

Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though you’d seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.

You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfits—leggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldn’t remember who. Logan’s scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.

You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.

“I still don’t get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,” Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, shouldn’t it be cheesy?”

“It is cheesy,” you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. “But it’s good cheesy. There’s a difference.”

Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. “You’ve seen this how many times now?”

“Don’t judge me,” you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. “This is a classic.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. “More classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Not every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.”

Ororo smiled knowingly. “Mmm, true, but you’re always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.”

“That’s because science is everywhere!” you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t not notice when something’s wrong.”

Jean grinned. “Like that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesn’t work like that?”

You huffed a laugh. “Well, it doesn’t. It’s all—”

“Science, we know,” Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, holding up your hands. “I’ll try not to nerd out tonight.”

“That’s all we ask,” Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.

For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.

When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”

“Same,” Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.

“Guess I’ll get ready for bed too, then.” You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororo’s room was close by theirs.

Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.

Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.

You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis you’d created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.

You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.

There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?

“Y/N?” Logan’s voice came from the other side. “You still awake?”

Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothes—an oversized t-shirt and shorts—before cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.

“Logan? It’s kind of late. What’s up?” you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.

He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. “Came by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.”

You blinked, taken aback. “A walk? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re always sayin’ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe you’d want some fresh air.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t deny the appeal of a nighttime walk—especially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.

“Alright,” you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Let me put on some shoes.”

Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.

“Ready,” you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.

Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldn’t help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.

“So,” Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, “how was the movie?”

You smiled, glancing at him. “It was good. A classic, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Jean and Ororo didn’t give you a hard time?”

You chuckled. “Well, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, they like to tease. Just means they’re comfortable around ya.”

You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didn’t say much, but that was one of the things you liked about him—he didn’t need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just… there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didn’t realize you needed it at the time.

“So, Logan,” you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, “what’s the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didn’t just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.”

He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. “Maybe I like the scenery more than I let on.”

“Right,” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’ve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.”

“Who says I’m talkin’ about the roses, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. “Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.”

There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one you’d grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing you—soft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasn’t like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.

You gave him a sidelong glance, but Logan’s expression remained as it usually did—a little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.

“Y’know,” Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, “you really are a mystery, sweetheart.”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “What do you mean by that?”

Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. “You’re this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes… you’re completely clueless.”

You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. “Clueless? Me? I don’t think that’s possible.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readin’ people? Not so much.”

Your frown deepened. “I think I read people just fine, Logan.”

He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, do ya?”

“Yeah,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.”

Logan’s smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. “Is that so?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, that’s so. What are you getting at?”

Logan’s grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.

“You’re dodging the question,” you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. “What are you getting at?”

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. “I’m just sayin’, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you don’t always see what’s right in front of you.”

You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “I see everything just fine, Logan. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“Subtle, huh?” Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just a little too focused on the wrong things.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didn’t offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery he’d planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.

“This is just another one of your games, isn’t it?” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. “You like keeping me guessing.”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Keeps things interestin’, don’t ya think?”

You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You weren’t going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.

Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Logan’s presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.

“You know,” you began after a while, your voice softer now, “just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “I just… maybe I’m not as concerned with people’s motives as much as I am with facts and data. It’s different.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like it’s a puzzle. But people? We’re a little more complicated than that.”

You tilted your head, thinking about that. “I don’t see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, don’t they?”

Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. “Not always.”

There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “how’s your latest project goin’? Still messing with those gadgets?”

You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. “Yeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hank’s been helping me out with some of the materials, but we’re having trouble stabilizing the energy output.”

Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. “Sounds like somethin’ you’ll figure out soon enough.”

“I hope so,” you said with a small smile. “But it’s been a little frustrating.”

“Not used to runnin’ into roadblocks, huh?” Logan teased.

“Not really,” you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. “I’m used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This one’s been… tricky.”

Logan gave a low hum of understanding. “That’s the thing about science, sweetheart. It ain’t always predictable.”

“Yeah, but I like predictability,” you said with a shrug. “It makes sense. People, on the other hand…”

Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—projects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.

As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didn’t understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet… here he was.

“Logan?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze shifting to you.

“Why do you do this?”

He frowned, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“Walk with me. Spend time with me. You’re not exactly the most sociable guy around here.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Maybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be so direct about… feelings. You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” you admitted after a moment.

Logan’s smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. “That’s ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ about everythin’ else, doll.”

You didn’t respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasn’t one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question things—yourself, your understanding of the world—without ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was… endearing.

As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldn’t help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being ‘clueless.’ It wasn’t like you didn’t notice things—sure, people had their layers, but you weren’t blind to them. So what was he talking about?

---

The next morning, you were back in your usual routine—teaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didn’t mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.

After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.

Logan shrugged. “Figured I’d stop by. See how you’re doin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You checking up on me again?”

He chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. “But it doesn’t hurt to check in every now and then.”

Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.

“You ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?” You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.

Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "I’ve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. “Wild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.”

He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didn’t think much of it, but Logan’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.

“Well?” you asked, watching him expectantly. “What do you think?”

Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. “Sweet,” he finally said, his voice low. “Real sweet.”

You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didn’t quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. “Told you,” you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. “Fresh strawberries are unbeatable.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. “You take real pride in this, don’t ya?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at him between bites. “There’s something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. It’s like… I don’t know, creating life.”

Logan’s eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You care a lot about the little det- ” He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.

You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Logan’s heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.

You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasn’t easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climate’s shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though you’d never flaunt it.

Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didn’t seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and grace—it was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.

“Something wrong?” you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.

Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Nah, just... thinkin’. You’re somethin’, you know that?”

You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. “If that’s your way of saying I’m a genius again, I already know.”

He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. “That’s not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.” His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.

But as usual, the hint flew right past you. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll take it as a compliment.” You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. “And you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.”

“Specific, huh?” Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. “Alright then, you’re smart, sure. But there’s more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.” His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.

You frowned a little, confused. “Earlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That.”

You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. “Logan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.”

Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, doll. I get that.” He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustrating—not in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.

“So,” you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. “What’s got you wandering into the greenhouse today? It’s not exactly your usual haunt.”

Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. “Just felt like stoppin’ by. Spend some time with you. Ain’t that a good enough reason?”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. “I suppose. It’s just... you don’t usually care about plants and stuff.”

“Well, maybe I’m changin’,” Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. “So... you wanna help?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Me? Helpin’ with your garden?”

“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer to him. “You’ve got hands, don’t you? It’s not all that complicated.”

He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. “Alright, sweetheart, show me how it’s done.”

You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. “Just give them a little water. Not too much though—they don’t like it when their roots get too wet.”

Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasn’t the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.

“You really know your stuff, don’t ya?” Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Plus, it’s kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole ‘controlling nature’ thing.”

Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you don’t talk about ‘em much.”

“I talk to them.” You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. “No. I was joking!”

Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You got me there, sweetheart,” he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.

You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I don’t have full-on conversations with them. That’d be weird."

"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."

You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "It’s just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."

Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didn’t notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"

You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?”

Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"

You handed him the basket full of weeds, “throw them out.”

He raised an eyebrow, “that’s it?”

You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. “I’m gonna lock up and bring these inside.”

Logan didn’t move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.

That small, unspoken connection you two had—the one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with you—had started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.

As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. “You’re still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?”

Logan’s smirk widened. “Oh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. “Right. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if it’s not too busy.”

Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. “You got it, doll. I’ll lend a hand.”

Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you liked—just the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was ‘being a gentleman.’

You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.

You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.

“Hey, those are for me,” she said, moving slightly to block Scott’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for these kiwis all week.”

Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, babe.”

Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. “Thanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.”

“Of course,” you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. “You’ve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.”

Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.

“You sure know how to make people happy, doll,” Logan said, his voice low but teasing. “Always goin’ above and beyond for everyone.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It’s just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.”

Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Logan’s tone. She had noticed the way he’d been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you weren’t looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.

“You’re selling yourself short,” Jean said, throwing you a grin. “It’s not just the kiwis. You’ve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott can’t admit he’s jealous of my fruit.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.”

You smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that way—predictable, manageable. You didn’t dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.

Logan’s smirk widened slightly at Jean’s comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didn’t quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.

You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororo’s office without saying a word, something they were already used to.

“You sure you’re not going to say anything? You know, that’s actually straight to the point?” Jean asked Logan.

Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, “at this point, you’re like a love-sick puppy following her around.”

Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. “Keep talking dickhead.” He threatened.

Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "He’s not wrong though, Logan. You’ve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. We’ve all noticed."

Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "She’s a good kid. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on her."

Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what we’re calling it now?"

Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. “You know, you could just tell her how you feel. She’s oblivious, but she’s not stupid. Sooner or later, she’s going to notice.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicated—he’d never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.

“She’s got her own life,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. “I ain’t lookin’ to mess that up.”

Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. “Logan, you’re not messing anything up. In fact, I think you’d be adding something important to her life. She’s not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldn’t even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.”

Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.”

Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “That’s what makes her so special, Logan. She’s genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesn’t play games—what you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesn’t realize it in the same way you do yet.”

Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, “Plus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayin’.”

Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. “Ain’t nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.”

Jean chuckled softly, giving Logan’s arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Well, when you’re ready, just remember—it’s okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jean’s support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?

Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.

---

You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.

They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.

But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.

Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.

“Need any help, princess?”

You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.

Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Need any help, princess?” His voice was low and casual, but that nickname—'princess’—it was just one of the many he’d taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadn’t heard this one before.

You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. You’d known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.

He made a small grunt, as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.

Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you weren’t exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.

He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.

You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Logan’s neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.

"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Logan’s arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.

Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.

You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "I’m pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didn’t sound all that convincing even to you.

"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I don’t mind."

You huffed in mock defiance, but you didn’t exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan felt…nice. Comfortable, even. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.

"You know, this could’ve been avoided if I’d just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.

Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, I’ve seen you rock combat boots and still look like you’re ready for a photoshoot. But those heels…" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."

You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good online…"

He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"

"I didn’t get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldn’t help but laugh. "They’re cute! Just not comfortable."

Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didn’t press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.

"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.

"I’ve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.

But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

You couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.

As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.

"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.

Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.

"I’m not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "They’re not that bad. I just…need to break them in."

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."

"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.

"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"

You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like this—playful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.

"Anyway, shouldn’t you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"

His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath."

He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didn’t say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of him—of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.

You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you weren’t fully aware of how Logan’s eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind of…nice? Logan wasn’t like other guys. He wasn’t intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.

"Alright, well, thanks for the…uh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think I’m good now."

Logan didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."

And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughts—and the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.

---

Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.

Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.

This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.

Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since you’ve been here for the past year, you’ve already held 4 sessions, including this one.

“Careful with those strawberries,” you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. “We need them in slices, not chunks.”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.

You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe you’d written down.

"How’s it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.

“Good, I think,” Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. “Is this enough?”

You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesn’t go everywhere."

Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.

Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.

He couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.

The sight made him smirk—something about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.

“Whatcha got cookin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.

You didn’t glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.

Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. “Depends. Is it any good?”

You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You doubt my baking skills?”

He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. “Wouldn’t call it doubt, doll. Just curious.”

You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "You’ll have to wait until they’re done to find out."

One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/N’s baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last time—they were gone in like ten minutes."

Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didn’t think much of it. Guys didn’t usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as ‘one of the guys.’ Logan’s pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.

But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.

“You need any help?” Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.

“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down?” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.

“I think I can handle it,” Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.

You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. “Here, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.”

You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.

He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"

His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.

"Yeah, that’s perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didn’t realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."

Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in class—tight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Logan’s proximity felt… intense in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.

You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I don’t know… when I was a kid? I just started because it’s a nice break from… everything I guess.”

Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jean’s waist as they watched the scene. “Think she’ll finally realize,” he asked.

Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, “who knows? But Logan’s certainly getting bolder.”

Jean shook her head, “I told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasn’t taken my advice.”

Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit."

Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "He’s not exactly hiding it."

Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Logan’s efforts. It wasn’t that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharp—when it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.

"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "She’s a genius, but this…" She waved a hand in Logan’s direction. "This seems to be one thing she’s totally clueless about."

Jean smiled sympathetically. "She’s not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not… you know, a woman."

Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. He’s made that much obvious. But I wonder how long it’ll take for her to figure it out."

Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."

The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching you—or how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.

"She’s too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."

Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everything—and to be fair, she does know a lot—but she’s missing the whole picture here."

---

After Logan’s stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jean’s advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.

Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.

Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there weren’t any other chairs available.

You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.

“C’mere doll.” Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.

You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. “What?”

He patted his thigh, “I don’t bite.”

Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. “I, uh- ”

Logan’s smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be shy. There’s a perfectly good seat right here.”

You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didn’t want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.

“Alright,” you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Logan’s arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didn’t say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. “Just trying to get comfortable.”

Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.

The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Logan’s hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.

---

At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.

Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.

Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.

Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.

Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and she’s still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.

"She’s a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "She’s supposed to know everything."

Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesn’t know this. And I’m in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didn’t leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.

Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like she’s completely missing the point."

"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. She’s too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."

Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "You’ve got the patience of a saint. Most people would’ve given up by now."

Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ain’t in any hurry. She’s worth the wait."

Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day she’ll actually catch on."

As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Logan’s attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.

"You’re like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.

Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.

“Logan!” you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.

He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."

You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Why’d you—"

"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkin’ about over there seemed pretty important."

Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! It’s been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think we’ve figured out how to—"

Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.

"You’re incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"

"I said you’re incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where it’s due."

Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."

"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But don’t forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ain’t good for anyone."

"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.

---

“You’ve never even been clubbing!?” Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. “And you know I’m not talking about something like a ‘gardening club’.”

“And you have?” You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.

Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. “Oh, Y/N, honey, I’ve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.”

Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "She’s right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."

You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I don’t know… It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."

Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You can’t hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."

You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"

Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress you’d forgotten you owned. “Who knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone you’ve been completely blind to.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone who’s been giving you attention for months, perhaps."

Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Let’s see how it looks."

You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jean’s hands. "I still don’t get what the big deal is. I’m perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."

Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. “Trust us. You’ll thank us later.”

---

A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.

"I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.

Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "You’re going to have fun. Trust me. It’s a nice change of pace."

Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. You’ve been working hard."

As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.

You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used to—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet.

Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"

You shrugged, glancing around. "It’s... different."

"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, you’ll feel better."

The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."

You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."

The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.

You don’t think you’ve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.

So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.

You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. “Here, let me help,” she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.

“I’m fine, Jean!” you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You weren’t used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.

Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. “Maybe next time we won’t let you have quite so many drinks,” she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. “You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”

“I’m a genius,” you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, “I’ll be fine.”

Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Oh yeah? Even geniuses can’t outsmart a hangover.”

You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. “Who put a trap here?”

Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldn’t help but join in.

“You know,” Ororo started between giggles, “for someone who knows everything, you sure don’t know how to handle a drink.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. “It’s... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.”

“Right,” Jean said, leaning back with a grin, “just like Logan’s flirting.”

You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. “Logan’s what?”

Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.

“His flirting,” Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.

You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. “Flirting? Logan? With me?”

Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Y/N. For months. You seriously haven’t noticed?”

You stared at them both, utterly lost. “Flirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?”

Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. “I think you’re too far gone to process this tonight.”

You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didn’t make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.

Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. “Let’s get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.”

---

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.

As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?

You shook your head. That couldn’t be right. Logan wasn’t the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.

“Mornin’, doll,” Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.

You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word ‘flirting’ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.

“Uh... morning,” you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldn’t stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. “Guess you didn’t take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?”

You blinked. “What advice?”

“Last night,” he said, smirking, “told ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, you were there?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, clearly amused. “Passed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.”

You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. “Well, I’ll survive.”

Logan gave you a lazy grin. “Tough as nails, aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. “Good thing. Wouldn’t want ya to break, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. “Uh... right.”

Logan’s smirk didn’t fade as he stepped back. “See ya around, darlin’.”

You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.

---

It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.

Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didn’t like you. You weren’t exactly the kind of girl they wanted.

Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldn’t.

He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesn’t mean he’s too late to apply.

Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadn’t seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.

Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.

"Remember to look into some engineering programs! I’d think they’d be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.

"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.

You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"

Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."

Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I’ve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."

Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, don’t ya, doll?"

You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.

“You finally figured it out then, didn’t ya?” He asked.

“I- well, uh…” you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by ‘you finally figured it out’? Were Ororo and Jean right?

Logan’s smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "You’re a genius, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now."

Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How I’ve been flirtin’ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didn’t make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were… well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didn’t flirt with you.

"You’ve been—wait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "You’ve been flirting with me?"

Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansion’s noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."

Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches… it all seemed so… normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.

"I—" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

Logan shrugged. "Didn’t think it was their place. Figured you’d catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didn’t expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."

You were sure your face couldn’t get any redder. "I’m not… I’m not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me."

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"

"Because I’m… me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys don’t flirt with me, Logan. They’re usually intimidated or just… I don’t know. I’m not the kind of girl guys like."

You didn’t have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.

Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.

You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two master’s degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.

One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.

Guys didn’t like you. That’s just the way it was.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, doll. You think guys don’t notice you?”

You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. “I don’t think, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You paused, hesitating before you added, “I’m not exactly… good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. I’m better at figuring out equations than people.”

Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ve got this idea in your head that no one’s gonna want you because you’re too smart or too different, but that ain’t true. Not even close.”

You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. “I just… I don’t see why you’d be interested in me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re Logan. You could have anyone.”

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I don’t want just anyone.” His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. “I want you.”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with you—Logan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy you’d come to admire over the past year—and you’d been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?

“I… I don’t understand,” you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. “Why me?”

Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. “Because you’re brilliant, Y/N. You’ve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t let anyone push you around. And you’re so damn kind, even when you don’t have to be.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, but… well, you’re not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.”

You blinked. “I’m not?”

Logan smirked. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. “I just didn’t think you… I didn’t think anyone would… you know.”

Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. “Well, I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I’ve been waitin’ for you to figure it out.”

You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadn’t noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

"Logan, I…" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding.

He really liked you.

Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? That’s a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.

You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "It’s just… I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me. You’re Logan, and I’m…" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."

Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didn’t last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.

He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.

Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.

"You really think I’d waste my time on someone I didn’t want?" Logan’s voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadn’t heard before.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?

"Logan, I…" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so close—it was too much.

He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, you’re overthinking again."

Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "I’m just… surprised. I didn’t think…" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.

No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and… normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.

Because you weren’t just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-

Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Hey, stop thinkin’. What the hell could you be thinkin’ about right now?”

You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. “Nothin’,” you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasn’t buying it.

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just… I don’t get why you’d want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "You’re this… badass, Logan. You’ve been through so much. You could have anyone."

His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I don’t want anyone else. I want you."

You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.

"I just…" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I’m not… I’ve never been good at… people. Relationships. I mean, I’m good at math, science, and solving problems but not—this."

Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You don’t gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadn’t dated much—hardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldn’t quite solve.

"Logan, I…" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.

"You overthinkin’ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That’s what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You don’t gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just… let it happen."

You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.

"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryin’ to solve it like it’s some kinda problem. Just be with me."

You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldn’t help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you weren’t good enough at this? What if—

Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, you’re doin’ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "You’re thinkin’ too much."

You sighed, biting your lip again. "I can’t help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "That’s just how my brain works."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlin’. But you don’t gotta do that with me."

His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just… be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didn’t expect you to be anything but yourself.

"I…" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I don’t know how to not overthink things."

Logan’s smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then I’ll just have to distract you, won’t I?"

Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.

Logan was kissing you.

Logan.

Was kissing.

You.

Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasn’t what you expected—nothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

If you would’ve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you would’ve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Logan’s shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first kiss would go. Not that you’d spent a lot of time imagining it—honestly, you’d been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldn’t have been it. Not with a man like Logan.

His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyone’s expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Logan’s lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “that didn’t seem too bad, did it?”

You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. “I… I don’t—what just happened?”

Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. “I just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless I’m readin’ the situation wrong, you didn’t mind too much.”

Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. “No, I—” You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mind. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Logan’s voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “I didn’t think someone like you… I mean, I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think anyone would- ”

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didn’t, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think what, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldn’t figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just… I don’t know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?"

You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of it—soft, unexpected, but not unwelcome—was playing on a loop in your head. You hadn’t been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.

But you couldn’t lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.

A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.

Logan’s eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved I’ve still got it."

You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Logan’s smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.

"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I don’t know. I mean, you’re a couple of hundred years old. Thought you might’ve lost your touch."

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Logan’s confidence was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that—there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.

"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."

Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "’Cause I don’t wanna hear any more about me bein’ rusty or old. Got it?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."

chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic

1K notes · View notes

loonylupinblack3 · 2 months

Note

Hellooooo, I was wondering if you could do some sfw and nsfw alphabet head canon for our beloved Wolverine?? 😝😝💗💕

NSFW ALPHABET

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: smut, literally so much shit i can't be bothered putting it all in here 😭

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: never done one of these before but it was fun so enjoy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Logan is always in a good mood after sex. He'll make sure you're alright, that he didn't go too rough or hurt you, and then he'd just have you in his arms. He'd be content.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of their partner’s)

Logan is a thigh man 😌 he fucking loves your thighs, loves squeezing them when you're sitting together on a couch or when he's driving. He loves being between them and when your thighs squeeze around his head he is a GONE man. Often holds you down by your thighs when he's fucking you.

C = Cum (where they like to cum)

Logan loves cumming inside you. He fucks you raw and loves the feeling of his cum spurting inside your cunt. It makes him crazy, feels like he's claiming you as his, he can't get enough of it.

Often watches it drip out of you just to shove it back in (he Loves cumstuffing 😩)

He also loves coming on your stomach and back, painting you with his cum, but again, he'll cum in you at least once when you're fucking, he can't not give you a cream pie

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves the idea of being your first. It's not necessarily a corruption kink, it's more of being able to be the person to introduce you to new things, to be the only person you think of when you think about sex. To be able to talk you through it, teach you tricks, ect.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Obviously Logan has experience what with being hundreds of years old. He loves to try new positions with you, showing you new things and doing stuff with you you haven't done before. He likes introducing you to things and over his 200 years alive he’s experienced A Lot of things

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Logan’s not very picky with his positions. Loves missionary so he can see your face when you come, watching what he’s doing to you. Also loves going behind so he can slam into you and be as rough as he wants. However he’s not opposed to you being on top and riding him, and fucking loves the idea of you using him to get off.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious. He'll play with you and tease you and flirt while fucking you, but he doesn't make jokes or laugh during sex. He gets too wrapped up in fucking you.

H = Hair (do they like hair pulling?)

He'll pull your hair All The Time. Almost painfully so, pulling you back to him when you try to squirm away, when you’re giving him a blowie (also makes u wear his mask sometimes so he can pull on the blow handles)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As we know Logan has Issues with intimacy and it often comes as a hard thing for him. Often sex with you is just sex, but thet are some moments where he's fucking you that he feels safe enough to confess his intimacy to you. He's not vulnerable often, but the few times he is it's usually when you're fucking, and he feels safe enough, in power enough, to tell you things.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Logan usually relies on his memories of you when masterbating. He’s an oldie, so doesn’t take many pics/videos of u when fucking (he’s also literally so consumed with fucking you he wouldn’t even think to remember it if he wanted to). Often Calls You, however, and lets you ramble about your day while he gets off to the sound of your voice

“Anything else happen?” he rasps while grunting, pumping his shaft.

“Are you jerking off-”

“Keep talking darlin’, I'm not done yet,” he orders.

And of course you continue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding is a big one. He loooooves cumming inside of you, filling you with his cum. Never been a fan of wrapping before tapping as they say, so you’re def on birth control. Even so he’ll often whisper dirty things in ur ear abt breeding bc you both just Get Off to that shit

“Gonna breed all my babies into you”

“Fuck, can’t wait to pump you full of my cum, gonna look so pretty pregnant”

ect.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Logan loves to take you away on spontaneous vacation weekends to a lodge cabin in the middle of the mountains, no one else around, and just Fuck you. He goes on all weekend, loving that you’re both alone with no possible interruptions. He goes crazy about having you all to himself.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Tbh you being angry with him, yelling and pointing fingers makes him soooo horny. Angry make up sex is a usual and the ones that go on the longest. He loves taking his pent out aggression on you <3

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Doesn’t like doing anything while you’re sleepy/asleep/drunk/ect. He wants you to know what’s happening, to be invested and feel what he’s doing to you. He’s also around dead ppl a lot (obviously) so having u asleep would remind him too much of dead people and it would just Not be the vibe :/

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Logan is a giver!!! Repeat it with me!! He’s been around for hundreds of years, he’s hot, people have given him blowjobs left and right. Yet there’s only ever been one of you. He’s never had you before, never tasted you or fingerfucked you so ofc he’s so much more obsessed with eating out your pussy to think about receiving anything. (also, with his amount of experience, every time he does eat you out u literally have an out of body experience)

HOWEVER that’s not to say logan doesn’t enjoy receiving. Oh my lord, even if u gave the worst blowjobs in the history of Everything, the knowledge that it was your mouth around his dick would be enough to make him cum (except he’s def taught u a few tricks to make the experience even better for him)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Bro… do we even need to specify….

Logan is the roughest guy you’ve ever been with. When he gets turned on he gets turned on and doesn’t stop until your limp beneath him unable to form a single coherent sentence. He loves making you cockdrunk and his dumb little fuck toy.

“Oh don’t worry baby, you just stay there and let me fuck you okay? There’s a good fuck toy.” ect.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Tbh Logan is not a fan of quickies. Like if he reeaaally needs it, like if you’re wearing that red dress he bought you that leaves barely anything to the imagination, sure, he’ll have a quickie (becaus tbh how could he not?)

But usually he prefers to wait until you have enough time because he is THOROUGH. He will fuck you over and over, in every single position like 😩

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Logan loooves experimenting. He loves introducing you to new things, finding new ways to push you to the edge and improve your sex life. HOWEVER. Risks are not his thing. He wants you 1. To always feel comfortable and safe with him and 2. All to himself, so he does not like the idea of anyone accidentally seeing you two ect.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?).

It is NEVER one round with Logan. He’ll fuck you on his fingers, fuck you with his cock, his mouth, his thigh, everything, over and over and over again. Like he never tires, and doesn’t think of it as a job well done until you’re a blubbering mess underneath him

T = Toys (do they use toys?)

Logan actually despises toys. He’s an oldie at heart and believes he should be the only thing getting you off. When he catches ur masterbating with a toy, vibrator dildo Does Not Matter, he goes feral. Fucks you till the only thing you can get off too is him.

“You gonna admit it, huh? You gonna admit nothing can make you feel like this but me? Or do i have to fuck you some more? Yeah, i think i need to fuck you some more, really get it into your head Bub.”

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Logan likes the idea of teasing in theory, would love to see you whining and begging to come from his cock, but in reality he just doesn’t have the patience for it. You’d think he learned patience from his 200 years alive but in reality whenever u guys get Into it he’s fucking you almost immediately because he just needs to be inside you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Logan is always desperate to make you moan. He loves hearing all the dirty desperate noises escaping your mouth and gets mad when you try to muffle it, hence his perfect location being somewhere isolated so you can scream as loud as you want.

Logan himself is rather vocal too. Not loud per say, but he grunts and groans, and loves talking dirty to you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good on my cock,”

“You like being fucked like a slut, huh?”

“So wet for me baby.”

ect.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Loves when you mention him during sex. When you scream his name he’s already gone. Wearing his clothes? He’s blowing his load immediately. Saying shit like “i’m yours” “you’re the only one who came make me feel like this” Oh lord he just unravels

What can he say he’s a possessive guy 🤷‍♀️

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Logan is thick. He’s def larger than average, but he’s thick and wide, and the stretch of his cock inside you is fucking delicious every time.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Logan can literally get turned on at the smallest of things 😭

He’s just so fucking rabid for you, you could be cooking him dinner and he’ll have you on the counter with your legs spread and him between them, lapping at your pussy like a starving man

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Logan isn’t rlly one to fall asleep. He’ll stay up while you doze off and just admire you, brush your hair, kiss your bare shoulders, just content to have you there with him.

#logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #x men fic #x men fanfiction #x men smut #x men #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine smut #wolverine #smut

563 notes · View notes

librababe99 · 28 days

Text

Older, Wiser, Yours

❥・CW: Female Reader, Old Man! Logan, Age Gap (early twenties), MDNI 18+, sexual themes. ❥・Word Count: 1695

Summary: Despite being on the run for the last few weeks you find solace in Logan's arms and a small moment blossoms into something so much more...

A/N: The Old man! Logan fics have had a grip on me these past few days...so I figured i'd throw my own little story into the mix🤭Comments and feedback are appreciated!

(Masterlist)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

The dim glow of the neon lights outside your motel window bathed the room in a soft, purple hue, flickering intermittently as the sign buzzed faintly. It was late—far too late for you to be awake—but sleep was elusive these days.

You sighed, pulling the threadbare blanket tighter around your shoulders, your thoughts swirling in a relentless tide. The day's events had been exhausting, yet your mind wouldn't quiet, haunted by memories that refused to stay buried.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Logan stepping inside, his broad frame filling the doorway. He was older than you—much older—and it showed in the lines etched into his rugged face, the streaks of silver in his dark hair, and the heaviness in his eyes.

"You're still up," he grumbled, his voice rough as gravel. He kicked the door shut behind him and shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the back of a chair.

You nodded, offering a small, tired smile. "Couldn't sleep."

Logan's gaze softened as he walked over, his heavy boots making the worn floorboards creak under his weight. He sat down beside you on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The two of you had been on the run for weeks now, moving from one dingy motel to another, always one step ahead of the people who wanted you both dead.

You had always admired him, long before you knew him. He was a legend, a man who had seen and survived more than most could even fathom. But now that you were with him, side by side in the constant fight for survival, that admiration had evolved into something deeper—something you hadn’t expected.

Logan was older, yes, but that didn’t matter to you. You were drawn to him, to his strength and his quiet, unspoken care. You could see through the tough exterior, the gruffness he wore like armor, and recognized the scars that weren’t just on his skin.

"What's on your mind, kid?" Logan asked, his voice softer now, though it still held that gruff edge. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face with surprising tenderness.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. "Just... everything. It feels like it's all catching up with me."

Logan's hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. He understood—he always did.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable yet charged with an unspoken tension. The past few weeks had brought you closer, the two of you relying on each other in ways you hadn't expected. But there was something more between you, something simmering just beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to break free.

Logan’s hand slid down to your neck, his calloused fingers tracing the line of your jaw. Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, the scent of cigar smoke and whiskey lingering faintly.

"You know," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "you don't have to carry all this alone."

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. The way he was looking at you—like you were something precious, something worth protecting—made your heart ache.

"I know," you whispered back, your voice trembling with the vulnerability you were feeling. "But it's hard to let go."

Logan’s hand slid down your neck to your shoulder, pulling you closer until you were pressed against him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you securely. The warmth of his body seeped into you, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt safe.

"You don't have to be strong all the time," Logan said, his lips brushing against your forehead. "It's okay to let someone else take care of you."

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. You hadn't realized how much you needed to hear that—how much you needed to feel cared for, protected.

Before you could think, before you could second-guess yourself, you tilted your head up and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if you were both testing the waters. But when Logan's hand tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more consuming.

It was like a dam breaking, all the pent-up emotions, the fear, the longing, flooding out in that single moment. Logan kissed you like he was starving for it, like he needed you just as much as you needed him.

You melted into him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you pulled him closer, desperate to feel more of him, to drown out everything else. His hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine, and you shivered at the sensation, heat pooling low in your belly.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, Logan rested his forehead against yours again. His breath was ragged, his eyes dark with an intensity that sent a thrill through you.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough and low, filled with a gentleness that made your heart swell.

You nodded, your hands sliding up to cup his face. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Logan let out a breath, something between a sigh and a low, primal growl, before capturing your lips with his once more. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, as if he was savoring every moment, every sensation. His lips moved against yours with an intoxicating mixture of tenderness and raw hunger, his stubble grazing your skin as his hands began to roam your body with a possessive, almost reverent touch.

His fingers were everywhere, tracing the curves and contours of your form with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch and your skin tingle. He moved with a sense of purpose, as if he was learning every inch of you, committing the feel of your body to memory. The heat between you intensified, all the worries within you became irrelevant, obliterated by the fire that burned in his touch, by the way he worshiped your body with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

Logan’s hands slid under your shirt, his rough palms skimming over your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. When his fingers found the clasp of your bra, he hesitated for just a moment, as if giving you one last chance to stop. But when you leaned into him, your body arching in invitation, his restraint snapped. The fabric was cast aside, and his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples with a touch that was both gentle and commanding.

His lips left yours to follow the path of his hands, trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, until his mouth closed over one of your breasts, sucking and teasing with a skill that made you gasp. The sound you made was enough to spur him on, his free hand sliding down your body to the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping to find the heat that built within your core.

The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, of the soft moans that escaped your lips as Logan explored you with a sensuality that made your toes curl. He moved with the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, who knew exactly how to touch you to make you unravel beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, Logan cupped your face in his large hands, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek. The way he looked at you—like you were something precious, something worth protecting—made your heart stutter. His gaze was filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away, a combination of desire, affection, and something else that you couldn't quite name but felt deep in your bones.

"You're something else, kid," he murmured, his voice rough but softened by the unmistakable affection in his tone. His thumb traced your swollen lower lip, as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you, his eyes dark with the unspoken promise of what was still to come.

A smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand seep into your skin. "So are you," you whispered, your voice laced with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you.

Logan’s gaze held yours for a moment longer before he gently guided you back onto the bed, his arm wrapping securely around your waist as he pulled you close. The heat of his body enveloped you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear grounding you in the moment. You rested your head on his chest, letting the soothing rise and fall of his breathing lull you into a rare sense of peace.

But even as you lay there, content in the warmth of his embrace, you could feel the tension simmering just beneath the surface, the unfulfilled desire that lingered in the air between you. It was a promise, a quiet understanding that this was only the beginning, that there was so much more to explore between you.

"Get some rest," Logan whispered, his voice a low rumble as he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. "I'll be here when you wake up."

And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe enough to believe him, safe enough to let the world and all its worries fade away.

With Logan beside you, his strong arms holding you close, the weight of the world didn’t seem so heavy anymore. Instead, there was only the quiet comfort of his presence, the promise of protection and care that you had found in his embrace. And as your eyes drifted shut, the heat of his body pressed against yours, you knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

Taglist: @nonamevenus

#logan howlett #hugh jackman #james logan howlett x reader #old man! Logan #xmen fandom #xmen fanfiction #logan x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #female reader #wolverine smut #old man logan #logan howlett x reader

720 notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 28 days

Text

Daddy The Hero : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: unable to put your daughter to rest, you rely on logan to step in with the magic of dad to save the day

“Logan, are you free?” You called downstairs where you knew Logan was sat watching the next part of the series that you had been watching. Your frame leant against the wall, too tired to even stand upright anymore as cries continued to echo through the upstairs.

“Babe?” Logan shouted back, pausing what he was watching before standing up from the sofa.

You stayed where you were, hearing Logan’s footsteps walking through the house, relieved when you saw the shadow of his figure first before his body appearing at the bottom of the stairs, concerned eyes looking up at you.

“Everything alright?” He questioned, already knowing the answer before he even asked his question.

Your head shook as a dejected sigh escaped from you. “I feel like I’ve done everything I can to get her to go to sleep, but nothing’s working.”

The frustration in your voice was clear for Logan as a sympathetic smile appeared on his face. You always offered to do the night routine whilst Logan relaxed after his busy days but tonight you were just about running on empty.

“Can you come and see if you can do anything? Please. I’m at a loss,” you asked, relieved as Logan immediately made his way up the stairs, forgetting all about what he was watching before.

If there was one thing you adored about your relationship with Logan it was how well you worked as a team, particularly after having your daughter too. When one of you was struggling, the other stepped in and made sure that you both felt well supported.

“What’s going on?” Logan smiled as he followed you into your daughter’s bedroom, noticing her sat up with a wide grin on her face.

“I’m going to go and tidy up the bathroom, give me a shout if you need me,” you told Logan, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

He hummed in response, taking a seat beside your daughter’s bedroom. “I’m sure we’ll be alright; you take it easy for a while sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how calm Logan’s voice was, if he needed to stay up all night with your daughter then he would, he’d do anything to make life easier for you.

“What’s going on baby?” Logan asked, brushing his hand through her hair as her small frame turned so that she was facing him. “You know you should be asleep right now.”

“I want to stay up with you and mummy,” your daughter argued.

“You can’t,” Logan gently giggled, “mummy and daddy are grown-ups which means we get to stay up just a little bit later than you.”

“It’s not fair,” she huffed, her sassy attitude beginning to show itself.

Logan knew your daughter’s attitude was directly inherited from you. It was like dealing with a mini version of you sometimes with how well your daughter could outsmart him with her comebacks and jibes.

“What about if I stay here with you until you fall asleep?” Logan offered, keen to get her to sleep as quickly as he could. “We can have some daddy and daughter time?”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” she smiled.

Logan nudged your daughter along her bed, making room for him to just about squeeze his tall frame into the bed with her. She immediately snuggled into Logan’s side, allowing his arm to wrap around her and pull her as close to him as he could.

“How’s that?” Logan asked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The giggle that came from her was all that Logan needed to know that your daughter was much happier now. Logan fell quiet, keeping his eyes on your daughter as he watched her eyes flutter shut, hopeful that was how they’d stay for the rest of the night.

After finishing up in the bathroom, you crept into your daughter’s room to check in on how they were getting on. Logan’s eyes flickered across as soon as he saw you, giving you a thumbs up in the darkness of the room to let you know that she had finally fallen asleep.

Slowly, Logan sat himself up, sliding your daughter down off of his arm. He thought he’d got away with it, but soon enough her eyes darted open and looked over in panic when she realised where Logan was going.

“It’s alright, go back to sleep darling,” Logan whispered, feeling her grip tighten.

“Don’t leave me daddy,” she groaned, kicking her legs against the mattress of her bed.

“Come on sweetheart, it’s time for me and mummy to get some rest,” Logan tried his best to explain to her, but she was having none of it, digging her heels, and her hands in stubbornly.

Logan’s eyes looked between you and your daughter, reminding himself of just how exhausted you were. You kept staring across at them as your daughter remained strong, refusing to let Logan go as he tried his best to carry on sliding away from her.

“I’ll stay here for the night,” Logan told the two of you.

“A-are you sure?” You asked him, drawn to the difference in size between Logan and the bed that your daughter slept in. “You’re going to do yourself an injury Lo.”

His head shook, “I don’t mind, if it means you get a peaceful sleep for the night, then it’s worth it.”

After a little bit more persuading, Logan encouraged you to head to bed, leaving him in with your daughter. She was beyond excited to have Logan stay, falling asleep almost in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the man who spent the night beside her.

Before you even saw Logan the following morning you could hear his groans coming down the stairs. Every muscle seemed to ache from where he had squeezed himself in, unable to move out of fear of rolling either out of the bed or onto your daughter.

Your teasing smile was wide as Logan appeared in the living room, throwing himself down on the sofa and stretching his body out for the first time in hours, full of relief.

Your eyes kept watching him, unable to hold back your laugther. Logan shot a glare across at you as he sat himself up with a shake of his head.

“Did you have a good sleep?” You jokingly quizzed.

“Never again,” he huffed, running his hands over his face. “Next time I offer to sleep in her bed, please slap me across the face.”

“Do you mean that?” You laughed, “because you know that I will take great delight in doing that.”

“That was awful,” he complained, nodding in response.

Despite how much it hurt, it was a relief for Logan to look across at you and see you full of energy again. The night’s sleep you had was exactly what you needed to feel like yourself once more, and although he’d suffered, Logan was pleased to see it.

“I do appreciate you stepping in last night, I know how busy you are too,” you told him, your laughter turning into a wide smile.

“We’re a team,” he reminded you, “I’m always going to step up and help, I’m her dad after all. Plus, I think I happen to be a pretty cool husband at the same time too.”

Your eyes rolled as Logan smugly smiled back across at you. “Oh, trust me, you’re the best husband ever,” you assured.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

733 notes · View notes

awkward-walking-potato · 1 month

Note

can i request for Logan howlett x reader who suffers from iron deficiency like one day reader just faint and it took some time for logan to notice makes him very panicked so since then he started putting more attention to you like reminding you to eat healthy stuffs or something like that it's totally up to you!! please and thank youu

The sun streamed through the large windows of the classroom, casting warm golden rays across the desks. The students were diligently working on their assignments, a mix of concentration and the occasional burst of energy that came with being mutants. You, their teacher, were making rounds, offering guidance and support where needed. Today, though, something felt off.

You’d been feeling more tired than usual, and the nagging dizziness that had been plaguing you for days now seemed to have reached its peak. As you leaned over to help a student with their history project, the world started to spin. You tried to steady yourself, gripping the edge of the desk, but it was no use.

“Miss? Are you okay?” one of the students asked, their voice distant and fuzzy.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, your vision blurred, and everything went black.

The next thing you knew, you were lying on something soft—probably the infirmary bed. You could hear murmurs of concern from the students around you. Someone was trying to get them to leave, but their worried voices persisted.

"Move aside, bub. Let her breathe."

That voice. Deep, gravelly, and unmistakable. It cut through the fog in your mind like a knife, and for a moment, the darkness receded.

You blinked your eyes open, finding yourself staring into the intense gaze of Logan Howlett. He was kneeling beside the bed, his usual scowl softened just a bit, showing an expression of concern. The students had been ushered out, likely by Logan himself.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with worry.

You nodded weakly, trying to push yourself up, but Logan gently but firmly pressed you back down.

"Take it easy," he said. "You fainted. The kid ran to get me faster than I could blink."

"Thanks," you muttered, feeling embarrassed. "I didn’t mean to make such a scene."

He shrugged, as if fainting in the middle of class was no big deal. "Don't worry about it. You’re gonna be alright. Hank said it’s iron deficiency. You been skippin' meals or somethin'?"

You shook your head. "No, I’ve been eating, just… maybe not enough iron, I guess."

Logan grunted, clearly displeased. "That stops now. You need to take care of yourself, or you’re gonna be no good to those kids—or yourself."

You nodded again, grateful for his concern, but also a bit surprised. Logan wasn’t known for being particularly nurturing, but there was something about his protective nature that made you feel safe, even in your weakened state.

The next day, you were back on your feet and determined to return to the classroom. When you walked in, though, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Sitting on your desk was a smoothie, bright green and freshly blended. A small note was attached, written in Logan’s unmistakable scrawl:

Drink this. It's got spinach and stuff. - L

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the smoothie. You took a sip, surprised to find that it was actually pretty good. Your students filed in, and as the class went on, you found yourself with a bit more energy, the dizziness held at bay by the thoughtful gesture.

From that day forward, Logan kept surprising you. Some days it was a smoothie, other days it was a carefully prepared meal left in your classroom during lunch breaks. He never made a big deal about it, always leaving the food with a gruff note or a simple nod in your direction when he passed by.

It became a routine, one that you grew to rely on and look forward to. You knew Logan was looking out for you in his own way, and it meant more than you could express.

One afternoon, you decided to catch him in the act. You waited in your classroom, pretending to be engrossed in grading papers, but keeping an eye on the door. Sure enough, Logan slipped in quietly, a smoothie in hand.

“Caught you,” you teased, looking up at him with a smile.

Logan huffed, his signature scowl back in place. “Just making sure you don’t pass out on the kids again.”

“Thank you, Logan. Really. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable with the gratitude. “Ain’t no big deal. Just… take care of yourself, alright? We need you around here.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “I will. And I appreciate you making sure of that.”

Logan grunted, trying to hide the fact that he was pleased. “Good. Now drink that smoothie before it melts.”

You laughed softly and took a sip, the familiar blend of spinach, banana, and something sweet filling your senses. Logan gave you one last nod before heading out, but not before you caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As the days went on, Logan continued his quiet care, and you found yourself growing stronger, both physically and in your feelings for him. What started as concern had blossomed into something deeper—a bond forged not only from his protectiveness but from the understanding and respect you shared.

It wasn’t long before the other teachers started to notice the change in you, and in Logan, too. There were knowing looks exchanged in the hallways, but neither of you paid them any mind. This was your routine, your connection, and it worked for the both of you.

And as long as Logan kept bringing you those smoothies, you knew everything was going to be just fine.

#marvel imagine #wolverine one shot #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine #x men imagine

484 notes · View notes

unsolvedjarin · 11 months

Note

I was going through a Charles video that mentioned him blacking out in the car at some point. Since I’m a sucker for angst, I was wondering what it would be like for mentor!Seb if it were the reader in that situation instead. Perhaps the season before the one he retires? And maybe we could see more of the reader’s friendship with Charles? Only if you feel inspired by it, of course.

Either way, thank you for sharing your fics with us. They are my favorites and I’m really grateful for having found your blog.

gif by luchitohamilton

EVERY UNIVERSE.

pairing: (mentor! sebastian vettel x ferrari driver! reader) (charles leclerc x teammate! reader)

summary: qatar is a difficult, hot, and taxing track. that along with you having food poisoning, well…that might not end too well for you. thankfully you can always rely on sebastian and charles to be there for you.

word count: 4k

note: can you guys tell i took inspo from mark webber throwing up in his car and the qatar race this year? it was so sad to watch everyone seem so tired especially lance and logan. anyways, the plot kinda got away from me at the end, i do apologize but the seb feels were too intense 😵‍💫

content warning: car crash, mentions of throwing up, inaccurate depictions of food poisoning

part of this series but can be read without!

“Ready?”

A familiar voice makes you turn around from your pre-race preparations. “Depends on what your definition of ready is.”

Charles smiles, “I know it’s our first race in Qatar but c’mon, it isn’t that bad.”

“Isn’t that bad? I might melt in the car! Doesn’t help that I almost missed this one because of food poisoning.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget that,” he teases. He couldn’t forget it, because you’d been complaining about it endlessly for the past three days. You had food poisoning because Mark Webber invited you to lunch on Thursday, and accidentally gave you something dodgy. You’ve yet to forgive the man. “Well at least you’re starting from P4. Lets you fight for P1, no?”

“Against Lewis and Charles? Please. In my dreams, maybe. Plus, you’re starting P3, asshole.” You retort, turning back around to put your balaclava on. The second it’s on your head, though, it gets pulled off, and you look behind you for the perpetrator. “Charles give it b– SEBASTIAN!”

The Aston Martin driver gives you a grin before hugging you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit. You didn’t expect to see him before the race, but the surprise was definitely welcome.

“Oh but if it was me I would have gotten scolded,” Charles mutters, but his complaints were left unheard.

“Just came to wish you luck before the race starts. P4! You’re going to get a podium, I’m sure of it,” Sebastian beams, letting you go from the hug.

“That’s what Charles said too. He was more delusionally optimistic, though. Said I was gonna win.”

“Because I believe in you! Is that so bad?” Charles complains from the side, his comment ignored once again.

“Well maybe Charles is right— you could win. Meanwhile I’m starting in the midfield, again.” Sebastian complains, groaning a little bit.

“Oh cheer up Seb, you survived Ferrari for 6 years, you’ll live.”

He lights up a bit at your joke, moving to say something before an Aston Martin mechanic shows up outside the Ferrari garage. He wasn’t allowed inside, but it was obvious he was looking for Sebastian– who also wasn’t allowed inside, yet mysteriously got in. Nothing to do with him being friends with your mechanics of course, yeah, totally not.

“Ah shoot, well it looks like they’re looking for me,” Sebastian sighs. He starts to walk away before he pauses and moves back towards you, “Hey, stay safe, okay? New track, it’s dangerous. I know we’ve done practice and quali but you can never be too careful. Plus, it’s sweltering hot. Hydrate.”

You roll your eyes fondly, “Yes, dad.”

His face scrunches up a little, “Don’t ever call me that again, I’m not that old.”

“You could barely work my Instagram the other day! All I asked was for you to open Lewis’ stories!”

“Psh, whatever. I have to go, see you after the race, yeah?” He asks, giving your arm a quick squeeze. You nod, murmuring a goodbye to him. He wishes Charles good luck too, before saving his engineer from the Ferrari mechanics blocking him.

“So he can pull your balaclava off– which you hate, by the way, let me remind you– but if I even try adjusting your helmet straps so it’s safer you slap me off?” Charles speaks up, making you break eye contact from the Ferrari garage doors.

You roll your eyes at him with a smile, “You have got to forget that. It was one time. And it was a soft slap to the shoulder!”

“The point still stands,” he retorts, making you give up on the conversation.

“Whatever, Charlie. Just get ready for the race. Stay safe, okay?” you say, putting your balaclava on again. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, a sign of good luck between the two of you. It makes you smile a little before you hop into your car.

Okay. Qatar. New track, new conditions, but still the same old you. You could do this.

The lights go off one by one, and you grip the steering wheel with anticipation like you always did. Race starts still made you nervous no matter how long you’d been racing. One light goes off…then the next…then the third…the fourth one follows…and then…

“AND IT’S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!”

The first few laps were a breeze, maintaining your position in fourth despite Fernando being on your tail the whole time. You noticed the car was slightly hotter than usual, but decided to ignore it and chalk it up to new changes in the engine.

Around lap 25 you started to feel a bit dizzy and sick during the sharp corners, cursing yourself internally for having such bad timing with the food poisoning. “Charles is 0.200 seconds ahead, feel free to overtake,” your engineer buzzes through the radio.

“Copy,” you reply, not really paying attention, still feeling sick. You overtake Charles with ease around the outside, him not putting up much of a fight because it would have taken both of you out. Now you just had to maintain this position for…dear god, 32 laps.

“Lewis 5 seconds ahead, focus on tire degradation instead.” Your engineer’s warning goes unheard, though, as you noticed the cockpit was getting way too fucking hot.

“The car’s burning up,” you say into your radio, getting only a simple “Copy, we are checking,” back.

“Okay, Y/N there are no problems with your engines, I repeat; no problem.”

What? That’s impossible. You felt like you were melting in there. “Are you sure? Can you ask Charles if his car feels like the sun too?”

“Negative, focus on the race.”

Oh you were going to kill them one day– if they don’t kill you first. A few more laps passed in those horrible conditions before turn 5 rolled around and as you swerved your car, you started to see black spots around your vision.

That can’t be good, you think, having to close your eyes for a second before shaking your head and snapping yourself back into the race. Thankfully Charles had pitted earlier and had a 3 second gap to you. “I don’t feel too well.”

“Copy. Is it the car?”

“Well it’s definitely part of the problem.”

The next few turns were torture, your head bobbing around as you faded in and out of consciousness through the fast corners. Charles was catching up now, and you knew if you didn’t do something soon, he would pass you.

You wanted this podium. You needed it. If you got P3 you would grab P4 on driver standings.

There was a slow corner coming up that was a good overtaking spot, and so you had to defend.

As the turn came around– faster than you expected– the extreme heat of the car, your headache, sweat, food poisoning, and dizziness came together and you suddenly felt light, as if you were flying, before a jolt knocked you out of your consciousness completely.

You were out for less than a minute, but that minute counted for everything. You completely turned into Charles, him having to swerve onto the gravel just so you wouldn’t crash into each other. Your car, however, still had more speed in it, and you were headed towards the wall on the very far side of the gravel.

Thankfully, the rough rocks had shook you awake enough that you were able to swerve away from the wall extremely last minute and only take the tail and back wheel of your car out.

The next few seconds were a blur.

You still felt faint, but could hear a muffled voice headed towards you. You knew the back of your car was completely ruined and you were out of the race, and you put your helmet in your hands in disappointment. You were having such a good run before this happened. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The muffled voice running towards you was closer now, and you registered it to be Charles. He was saying something but you could barely hear him with how your ears were ringing and how the seat of the car was still hot.

The man quickly realized you weren’t hearing him, and opted to come closer and lift your visor up. “Smoke. Car. Get out!”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You pushed yourself up but barely, Charles having to lift you up by your shoulders. Once out of the car you completely collapsed on the floor, only having your teammate catch you.

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” you say drowsily, still fighting the urge to pass out.

“Safety car is coming, stay with me now,” he replies, tapping your helmet so you stay awake. You were grateful your friend was there with you.

On track, however, Sebastian had just been informed of what went down. “What the fuck? What happened?”

“L/N completely turned into Leclerc. Driver error, push on for P9.”

Sebastian hated how his engineer sounded like a robot reporting a technical statistic. He saw the aftermath of the accident for a split second, and it didn’t look like your car was in good shape. He worries about what shape you were in. “Are they okay?”

“Safety car is coming out for L/N and to crane the car, but other than that they seem fine.”

“Injuries?”

“Please focus on the race, Sebastian.”

“INJURIES!” he shouts into his radio, annoyed. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the race until he knew you were alright.

“Uh…L/N seems to be out of it and on the floor, but they’re okay. They’ll be fine, Seb.” His engineer adds the last statement to reassure the man. He knew you meant a lot to him. Seb nods to himself in the car, carrying on with the race. The faster this finished the faster he could get to you.

The safety car came out and they all slowed down, Sebastian finally being able to take a second long look at the accident. Your car was still there, the smoke coming out of it being extinguished by a personnel. Sebastian thinks he ought to have a word with the Ferrari mechanics after the race. He then notices you, on your knees in the gravel, only being kept up by a driver he can only assume to be Charles. Sebastian thinks that should be him there supporting you, but at the same time he’s glad he wasn’t the one who you nearly crashed into. He couldn’t have it on his consciousness that he could have hit you.

“‘m sorry for ruining your race,” you mumble, still being held up by Charles. The man shakes his head, “It was ruined before that, don’t worry. My engine was acting up.”

You knew he was lying to make you feel better, his engine was completely fine. He was headed for the podium earlier, his first in a while. And you completely botched his chance to get it. The thought makes you sob a little, along with the fact that you ruined your own race.

Crying wasn’t the greatest thing to do, though, as it only made you more lightheaded. Charles notices this and takes your helmet off for you, despite your protests pre-race. You were grateful that he did, though, as the second he took your helmet and balaclava off you felt like you had a breath of fresh air for the first time.

“Better?”

You nod, unable to speak. You still felt dizzy and sick. Charles felt annoyed that the safety personnel were taking so long to get to you, waving them over to walk quicker. Squinting your eyes a little, you find them with some health personnels, and you sink a little lower into the gravel.

“God not again,” you groan, remembering the events that unfolded back in Spa. You did not need to go to the medical tent. As you attempt to get up, however, you fall back down as your vision blurred. Looks like medical tent it is again.

The rest of the race went particularly well. Lewis won the race and Fernando got his first podium since 2014– which you reminded yourself to congratulate him for once you were out of the medical tent– and Seb ended up P9, a position higher than where he started. That would usually be a mediocre result but with his shitty car, you were pretty impressed.

“Water?” A familiar voice makes you look away from the TV screen in the room. Charles sat beside your bed, holding a plastic bottle of water. You nod and take it from him, chugging the cool liquid down.

“Sorry again for ruining your race,” you say as you finish drinking. Charles shakes his head, “Stop apologizing. You passed out, that was no fault of yours.”

“You passed out!?” A loud concerned voice makes both of you snap your head towards the door of the room. Sebastian stood there, still in his race suit like the both of you, a shocked look on his face.

“Is that what happened? You passed out mid race?” He asks again, but this time softer. He walks towards your medical bed– which you insisted you didn’t need– before putting his hand on your forehead to check if you had a fever. The action makes you giggle, but Sebastian had a serious look that shut you up quickly.

He shakes his head with a sigh, “You have a bit of a fever.”

“Any other fun observations?”

Sebastian didn’t seem to be in the mood for your wit, though. “You could have been injured. Just a few meters and you could have fully hit the wall. If you were just a few seconds late waking up you would have–”

He shuts his eyes and stops himself. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened anymore. His voice got wobbly during the end of his statement, making you realize that he was stopping himself from crying. You absentmindedly sit up and reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m here, Seb. And I’m fine. Look at me.”

The older driver does, slowly opening his eyes. You squeeze his hand a second time, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m here. And look, I’m completely fine. You’re not getting rid of me that quickly old man.”

Seb lets out a chuckle at that, moving to hug you tightly.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he mumbles into your hair. “Why did you even pass out?”

“I was already a little dizzy before getting in the car because of the heat but I tried ignoring it. The car was overheating too and it made me dehydrated, I think. My drink pouch wasn’t a lot of help either when the water was steaming hot. Plus…” you trail off, not really wanting to talk ill of Webber.

“Mark gave her food poisoning when he took her to lunch,” Charles butted in, making you give him a look. You forgot he was in the room.

“Mark? As in Webber?” Sebastian asks, Charles nodding in response. “The bastard.”

“Oh c’mon Seb, he just wanted to treat me to lunch. It’s not like he poisoned my food on purpose.”

Seb sighs deeply before agreeing, “You’re right. Sorry. I’m just– I don’t know.”

“I get it. I mean, this is my second time at the medical tent in three months. Makes you think how accident prone I am,” you joke. Sebastian laughs, and you’re glad you got the worried look in his face away.

“The one in Spa was completely your fault, but we may have to pin this one on Mark,” Seb teases. You shoot him a grin, “Yeah, we can say that.”

Before you could talk more, though, a PR person from both Ferrari and Aston Martin came in to fetch Charles and Sebastian.

“What about me?” you ask, getting up from your bed. It wasn’t like you were injured or anything, you were just a little sick and had a bit of a stomach ache. You’d already thrown up earlier, so you felt pretty normal now.

“Sorry, we have orders to keep you here.”

You scoff, “Please. What can they do if I walk out?”

Before the Ferrari PR agent could reply, though, you were already out the room. She stands there helpless, making Sebastian and Charles chuckle to each other before following you. You were always stubborn when you wanted to be.

The second you’re out of the medical tent, camera flashes overwhelm your eyes. You walk past them as you always do, but the contrast of the light to the night sky makes you a bit lightheaded again, having to hold Sebastian’s arm for support. He moves your hand from his arm to his own hand, interlocking it with yours and pull you through the crowd. There were no words needed to be said, he always knew what you needed. You’re starting to think he can read minds.

Once past the annoying lot of cameras, you make it to the media pen where at least they pestered you in a more civil way. The interviewers were all over you and Charles, looking for some inside scoop on ‘Ferrari drama.’ Turns out, the media thought you tried to purposely take Charles out a la brocedes style. Because of this you had to clarify to every person you talked to that, “No, I did not try to take Charles out on purpose. I passed out. We’re good. Yes, we’re still friends.”

Once that was all over, you headed over to the Channel 4 area to give a certain someone a piece of your mind. “Mark Webber.”

The man turns around to the mention of his full name, smiling when he notices who it is. “Y/N! Glad you’ve come and joined us! We’re on in about five minutes, we can do a segment about the crash but if you wanna talk about something else on screen that’s fine too, we can–”

“You gave me food poisoning!” you butt in. “I cannot believe you.” His coworkers give him a look, as if they were holding in a laugh at him being scolded.

Mark stands there with his mouth agape, unsure what to say. “Wasn’t that three days ago? Are you sure it’s me?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “Yes, I’m sure it’s you. It started three days ago, and guess who I was with when I ate something unusual three days ago? Oh right, it’s you!”

He pauses for a moment before bursting into laughter, trying to cover his mouth to no avail. “Sorry, it’s not funny that you almost crashed, I’m glad you’re safe, but– ha!– I cannot believe it was because of the dodgy Indian food!”

You gave him a shove, trying to act mad, but the smile on your face betrayed you. His laughter was contagious. “You are such an asshole.”

“Awh cheer up,” he gives you a side hug, ruffling your hair a little. “Sorry for giving you food poisoning, mate. I’ll make it up to you, whaddya think about lunch on me tomorrow?”

You escape his side hug when you hear him say that, “Absolutely not! I’m never trusting you again with food recommendations.”

The statement makes him laugh again, and you chuckle along with him. Hard to be mad at someone who didn’t do it on purpose. Sebastian walked over to the two of you, having watched the interaction from afar.

“Look who’s coming over,” Mark mumbled, making you notice Seb trying to pretend to just ‘bump’ into the two of you. “Still competitive ‘till now, eh? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to out-mentor you,” Mark says out loud, grabbing the attention of the German.

Seb tilts his head with a faux oblivious look, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grabs you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ pulls you over to his side. ‘No idea’ my ass.

The Australian scoffs with a grin, “Whatever you say mate. Listen, I gotta get back because our feed is going live in a few minutes, but you two take care, alright? Nice to see you again Seb.”

“You too, Mark.” Sebastian replies, this time genuinely. While the media knew the two drivers were now on good terms, they didn’t know just how close they had gotten. The two went bowling at least once every two months just to catch up with each other, you being there for half their competitions– yes, they still competed. Apparently that sense of wanting to beat your former teammate does not go away. So far this year, Mark’s been winning.

Before Mark completely walked away, he looked back at you for a second, “Oh, and, I am happy you got out injury free from that nasty crash. Genuinely glad you’re okay. Sorry that my dodgy food contributed to your sickness.”

You wave him off, “It’s fine, Mark. It’s not like you could’ve known I would get food poisoning. Although, next time maybe check online reviews.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, waving you a goodbye as he ran to his coworkers who were already getting impatient.

You shake your head with a grin, “Well at least that’s over with.”

Sebastian slings his arm around your shoulder, “True. So want to get dinner?”

“Absolutely not. I think I’m done with food for a good while.”

“Well you have to eat something,” he insists, as you both walk through the paddock. “How about we get room service?”

“Eh, it’s late, I don’t really want a repeat of Monaco 2019.”

Monaco 2019 was when you and Seb got room service at 10pm because you didn’t check the time. Safe to say the staff weren’t very happy with that. You both felt so bad while eating that food.

“We can just get McDonalds then,” you suggest.

“McDonalds?” Charles asks, popping out from god knows where.

“Jesus, where the hell were you hiding? The atoms?” You ask.

“I was here the whole time.”

“You were not,” Sebastian comments. Charles simply shrugs, tagging along with the two of you, not caring that he was obviously third wheeling a moment. “So McDonalds?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, McDonalds. But you’re paying because you’re tagging along.”

“No fair! Sebastian is richer than me!”

You both give Charles a look at the same time. Charles thinks it’s eerie how alike the two of you were.

“Charles,” Sebastian starts, patting the Monegasque’s back with one arm with his other still slung around your shoulders. Your accident made him very clingy, but you weren’t about to tell him that. “Let me phrase this as nicely as I can; you are from Monaco. You are rich.”

Charles lets out a sigh, “Fine. I’ll buy the food.”

You clap, “Fuck yeah! Food on the rich man!”

“We have the same salary in our contracts?”

“Shh, that’s not important,” you say, shushing Charles. “Food on the rich man! Although, we may have to go to the hotel right after and just get take out. I can feel Mark’s Indian food from three days ago still fighting with me.”

Charles is the one to roll his eyes this time, “I’ll get the car so we can get there faster, your highness.”

“Thank you, Lord Perceval.”

“Don’t call me that!” he shouts, already walking away to the parking lot.

That left you and Sebastian alone again, just enjoying the company of one another, walking slowly down the paddocks. There were few people now, most having gone back to their hotels to call it a night.

“You know, I’m glad I found you.”

The words make you look up at the older driver, who you find smiling at you. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean obviously we would find each other, there’s only so many drivers in Formula One. But I mean I’m glad I found you in this life.”

“Do you think we don’t find each other in other lives?”

Sebastian pauses and thinks for a second. He’s thought about the other career paths he could have taken throughout his life– other lives he could have lived. He knows there’s no logical way, but he thinks he still would have found you in those lives. The thought makes him smile to himself.

“No, I think we do.”

“Well then good. Because me too,” you reply, giving him a smile of your own. “Why did you suddenly think about it though?”

Sebastian shrugs, “I don’t know. I just felt suddenly sentimental. Feels like a chapter of my life closed but I’m not sure what or why.”

Little did he know that he would start contemplating retirement a few weeks after that.

“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Whether we find each other in other lifetimes, I mean.”

Seb raises his eyebrow, him now being the one confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we’re both here now. Enjoying each other’s company. Why bother thinking about versions of ourselves in other universes when we’ve got each other in this one?”

Sebastian gives you the most genuine, softest smile at that. “I love you, I don’t tell you that enough.”

You scrunch your face, “Ew. Sounds like a love confession. Sorry but you’re too old for me.”

“You know what I mean. I love you but not in that way. That’s just gross,” Sebastian says, hitting your shoulder.

“Relax old man, I’m just teasing,” you giggle, trying to avoid his hit. “Love you too. Ew. Sorry, not great with verbal affection. Pretty sure that just made me throw up a bit, and that’s not even with the help of the food poisoning.”

Sebastian just shakes his head, “Okay c’mon now, Charles will be annoyed with how slow we’re walking.”

Later that night, the three of you watched a cheesy romcom while sharing a shit load of fries and chicken nuggets. As you carried on through the night you thought to yourself that despite the hardships of F1, the crashing, the disappointments, the injuries– it brought you a second family you never thought you’d have. And you wouldn’t trade it for any other universe.

Although, maybe a universe where you didn’t get food poisoning.

#sebastian vettel #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula one #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #f1 imagine

2K notes · View notes

ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 23 days

Note

I have recently become obsessed with Logan (I haven’t even seen the new movie yet!) I would love to request a bookworm!reader and Logan pairing. Like the two of them could not be more opposite and everyone is confused about why they are together except for them! Take your time I know you just got back from a break, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you do if you decide to do it! Even if you don’t decide to write it know that I think you’re awesome and really cool and I hope that you have sweet dreams and clear skin for the rest of your days 💕

fem plus size bookworm!reader, wc: 407.

a/n: this was such a welcome reprieve you don't understand! this fic literally has such a mystical vibe, i don't know how to even explain it. this is so seriously fluffy!!

Days spent with Logan are quiet ones.

Your dynamic is laughable really; the self-proclaimed hot-headed Wolverine often finds himself wherever you are, which is more often than not the school’s library.

Sure, you have your own personal room with more than enough comfortable furniture to house your bottom, but you are attracted to the literary aesthetics that comes with being surrounded by constant knowledge and information.

You love the small sounds of pages of books being turned, pencils scratching on paper, and pens dropping to the floor, plus, it doesn’t hurt that there’s a large window that houses comfortable bay seating, giving you a cushiony view out into the gardens.

It feels like a breath of fresh air amongst the crime fighting and world saving. A reprieve.

Logan’s come to find himself enjoying the library as well. It’s hard for him to settle down, to get comfortable and just relax. He feels like he has to be on his a-game all the time when that simply is just not the case. There’s always another shoe to drop, because if there isn’t, what is he supposed to do?

Well, since he’s gotten with you, he just sits.

It’s not like you force him too or anything, he chooses to do it. He chooses to sit at your feet on the bay window as well, sometimes pulling them into his lap to massage your calves mindlessly. Sometimes he’ll even pick up a book for himself.

That isn’t to say that there isn’t any silent chatter, but Logan’s a horrible whisperer, something that you’ve teased him about before. It took him a long time to realize that he’d do anything for you. He’d go where you’d go, and if that’s to somewhere as monotonous as the library, then so be it.

On days where he’s busy, he already knows where to locate you once he comes home, he doesn’t even have to rely on his enhanced smell, even though he does it anyway because you always wear his favorite perfume.

It’s always a serendipitous meeting when he finds you curled up in your spot. Sometimes you’re asleep, snoozing quietly with your head resting on the pane of the window, or you’re so lost in your own world that you don’t even notice him.

It’s okay, because he once recalls you telling him, “Even though I’ve lived hundreds of lives in my stories, this one will always be my favorite.”

He can’t help but agree.

348 notes · View notes

eudaimaniacs · 3 days

Text

quite an animal (logan howlett x female reader)

warning/s: dead dove do not eat, noncon, implied earlier noncon, mentions of kidnapping, etc. please proceed with caution.

You don't know how long you have been running away from him. Logan. The crazed man who took you a month ago, promising he would take care of you. If taking care means getting constantly hit by beer bottles, almost killed by his claws, and servicing him, then you're well taken care of.

You've had enough of Logan's abusive grip on you. So, you waited for the perfect time to escape this place you deemed hell. Logan would go out to buy some groceries by himself since he doesn't trust you going with him. You didn't attempt to escape before since you wanted to catch him off guard. You packed the little things Logan hadn't destroyed when he brought you to the cabin. You stole some money he had hidden and waited for your kidnapper to be far away.

The freedom you had wished for ever since greeted you when you opened the door. When you took your first step, you have never felt this happy. With your bag at the side, you began walking through the vast forest to escape this demented place.

After treading for about seven minutes, you finally saw the road. You smiled and thanked whatever divine being blessed you with this opportunity. You were free. You didn't have to suffer Logan's tight grip on you anymore. A few more miles and you could taste the sweet-

"Princess, what are you doing?"

Your body shook at the deep voice calling your attention. The universe had betrayed you, like a blunt knife getting sharp at the last minute and stabbing you in the heart. You didn't dare to face Logan. You didn't want to see his face or feel his presence.

"I asked you something, princess. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" The grumpy man continued to question and make you more vulnerable.

You don't know if it's instinct or the desire to escape Logan, but you start running. You felt your eyes building up water as the reality dawned on you. Logan was keeping you here no matter what. He's going to use every method to cage you here forever.

The forest seems enormous now that you're in a life-or-death situation. The trees were never-ending, and there was no sign that you would get out anytime soon. You heard the heavy footprints of Logan chasing you. You didn't look back and see the furious, animalistic look he had. He didn't scream your name or command you to do anything.

He was catching up to your slow, almost tired running. You didn't bother to hold a weapon near you since defeating Logan was nearly impossible. Your legs were burning from the endless running. You wanted to give up, but the price of your freedom relied on it.

Your curiosity kills you as you dare to look at Logan behind you. He was fuming. His claws were out, and he discarded the flannel he wore earlier. Logan was determined to get you back. He looked like a predator hungry for prey.

As you focus on the path before you, a large rock suddenly makes you lose balance. You yelped at the force tripping you to the ground. You tried getting back up but felt Logan's foot stomping your back. You cried at the reality of not escaping this hell hole anytime soon.

"L-Logan, please, I'm s-s-sorry!" You pleaded to the feral man above you. He growled and turned you to face him. You went wide-eyed as you heard him huffing and threatening you with his metal claws.

Logan grunted and scolded you, "You escaped, [Y/N]. I won't show you any mercy even when we're in the middle of the forest." Before you can beg for forgiveness again, his claws rip the sheer dress that offered you little protection. You cried out and tried stopping Logan from doing this to you.

He hungrily bit and kissed your neck as he unbuckled his pants. The angry penis aroused by your attempt to escape him. You shook your head and promised that you wouldn't do that again. Your endless whines annoyed Logan, so he grabbed your neck to shut you up.

Without warning, his large member entered you, making you scratch his arm to fight him with little effect. Your voice was weakening as you pleaded and begged him to stop. However, Logan was an animal and chased his pleasure at the expense of hurting you. Your body betrayed you more as you felt your pussy hugging him tighter.

"You can't deny me, princess. Your wet pussy is so fucking tight. It's a perfect match for me," Logan groaned as he quickened his pace. You close your eyes, hoping you'll wake up from this nightmare. A monster taking advantage of you in the forest he held you captive in. You prayed to the gods to rescue you from this hell.

You felt your stomach twisting, indicating that you were close. Logan smirked as he saw the imprint of his cock on your stomach. You let out a weak moan that you didn't bother to suppress. After all, Logan won over your body even if your mind tried to disagree.

His thrusts falter as your orgasm crashes over you. You want to sleep and try to forget everything when you wake up. You knew you were returning to the cabin where you would live with an animal for the rest of your life. Logan retracted his claws and stayed inside of you, making sure that every drop of his cum painted your walls.

Like a switch, Logan suddenly became warm and softly whispered, "I'm going to clean you up, princess. Let's cuddle and eat something at the cabin." He kissed your forehead and carried you. Like a predator bringing his prey back to his cave, you surrendered and embraced Logan's sweetness. You weakly hold his chest, seeking comfort at the man who had and will always violate you.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

263 notes · View notes

reddesires · 1 month

Text

It Was Everything.

Part 3 of Is It Casual?

Previous Part

Logan Howlett x Mutant Reader

Warning: Angst (with happy ending.)

Fandom: Wolverine/X-Men

A/N: ngl I struggled so bad when writing this like omfg, I'm tweaking with how much I had to push myself to write this Ugh. I think this is the longest I've ever written a fic like, bro. I was so stressed. I hope you guys like it, I tried my hardest 😪

You can feel the frustration building in your chest as you stand outside the Professor’s office, the conversation you had just moments ago echoing in your mind as you sharply bite down on your lip as you try to keep your cool, your eyes narrowed as you briskly walk down the hall.

Whatever is going on with your mind, it’s holding you back and it's becoming more burdensome as you try to reach your former potential, the sharp pains radiating deep from within the recesses of your head.

Your hand clenches and unclenches in agitation, everything seems to have a domino effect all around you, and it all starts with your lack of control over your mutation.

The Professor has been more than encouraging as he walks you through your sessions and he’s scoured through your mind countless times looking for the source of your problem but is cut short as it seems like your mind has built up defenses against outside potential threats, blocking out other telepathy users from reaching the vulnerable parts of your mind.

You’ve poked and prodded in an attempt to get past some sort of breach, but the lightning bolt of pain that passes through you is precise, leaving you defeated and with a bloody nose to prove it. You've expressed your desperation to Storm and she tries her hardest to comfort you with the idea that it’ll take more time for you to make a breakthrough but you’ll get there, and though you appreciate her optimism you have been finding it more and more hard to share the same sentiment.

The others have noticed that you have been walking around with that dark cloud over your head and they have made an effort to take away your attention from it but it always creeps back up slowly but surely.

Logan is especially worried about you and how much it’s been weighing down on you and though he doesn’t say a lot of his worries aloud you can see it through his actions and the way he looks at you. The way he lays his hand gently on your back as he sees you deep in thought and the way his gaze catches yours as he intends to bring your attention on him and him only, he’s become possessive of your attention not accepting the weak smile you throw at him in an attempt of appeasing him.

He always manages to make your breath hitch and catch in your throat as brings himself into your personal space, it’s almost like he's relying on some underlying feeling and he’s allowing his body to act on it and it’s gotten to the point where he’s been open enough to display this in front of the others earning some raised eyebrows which is met by his blank stare.

There are times where you stand toe to toe with him and as he looks down at you with that smug smirk you find yourself mirroring back his expression relishing in the self satisfied feeling that builds up from your stomach. Whenever he was around, it was like a switch went off in your body, and there was an instinctive way your body reacted, like it was as easy as breathing, no effort at all.

If only you felt that way all the time, have that confidence dancing on the tip of your tongue instead of that bitterness, the bitterness that lingers as the remnants of your paramnesia lays locked away from your use, your only allowed to use it in small intervals before the pain becomes too unbearable for you. As you walk with your head down, your nails dig into the tender skin of your palms, you hear your name being called from behind you, and you look back, unclenching your tight fists.

“Oh, hey Jean.” You feign your happy tone as she walks up to you with a small smile. “Hey, you doing okay?” Her tone has that worried edge again, and it does make your smile waver before you sigh decidedly against continuing to fake your way through the unsavory conversation coming your way.

“The Professor still hasn't been able to get past the blockages placed in my mind. He thinks I built it in an attempt to protect myself as a last resort.” Jean nods, a contemplative look on her face, her brows furrowed as the gears turned in her head.

“That would make sense, but does that mean there was someone trying to get into your head?” You can only shrug your shoulders falling back down heavily as you felt just how tumultuous this topic actually is. Was it really an outside source?

All these unanswered questions you have and so little to show for it, you are constantly told to have patience and the answers will come to you soon enough but the fact that those answers are blocked off from you along with your mutation makes you irate.

Jean places her hand on your shoulder, her smile sympathetic as she looks you in the eye seeing the frustration bleeding into your expression and the air is filled with a tension you're unsure of as she considers her next words.

“Maybe..I could take a look?” You raise an eyebrows as you fully comprehend her words, it does raise an interest in you but you're apprehensive as you think of the possibility of your defenses hurting Jean if she tries to get through what the Professor can't get pass himself, you open your mouth to voice your worries but she beats you to it.

“I'll back out if things go awry, I just want to see if I can see anything the Professor can't.”

You weakly smile, nodding. “Okay, but please don't push yourself. I don't want you to get hurt.” She nods quickly as she standing in front of you, you lower your head slightly as she places her fingers on your temples and you know that it wasn't necessary for her to do so but she's more than likely using you as an anchor to reality to pull her back from the complexity of your mind if need be, your sure she'll have to pull back since your fortification is aggressive in nature.

“Take a deep breath and relax.” You do exactly that, you try your hardest to keep all distractions at bay and open your mind up to her to the fullest extent but you know there's only so much you could do before she hits that blockade.

You can feel her fingers twitch on your temples and you're aware of where exactly she is in your head as she looks for any sign of frailty or low security but your mind holds up against her, as she looks through the memories available to her trying to decipher where it all went wrong, she gasps in sudden surprise as your defenses grab hold of her, the pain radiating to her own head in bursts.

“Jean! You need to let go.” You hurriedly say, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to will your mind into not retaliating against Jean. “I'm trying..” Her voice strains as she tries pulling back, her chest heaving in panic, with all the strength you can muster, you take hold of the connection between you two forcefully pushing her out of your head, your sudden action causing you to fall to your knees as you breath heavily, the sweat on your brow now noticeable to you as you panically look back up at Jean.

She's already looking down at you, her breathing slowly returning to normal as her hand is gripping the side of her head. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, she nods hastily as she nervously smiles in response as she extends her hand to you, you grab it exasperatedly, feeling the adrenaline rushing out of you just quickly as it came in.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, Jeanie.” You laugh breathlessly. She shakes her head, mirroring your laugh. “I nearly had one myself. Your mind is on high alert. I felt the pain when it grabbed hold of me.. But it immediately stopped when you broke the connection..”

You sigh as you wipe your brow “Now you know what it's like being in my mind.” Her smile’s incredulous as she places her hand on your shoulder, and you know for a fact that she's shaken just by how strong the security of your psyche truly is. “That's one hell of a mind then.”

○●○●○●○●○●○

As you walk to your room, you're filled with thoughts of what just happened. Going into your head is not only dangerous for you but others too, so what could you possibly do?

If you don't do anything then your mutation will stay dormant, you’ll be left with little to no access to the full scope of your powers and though you know the others will never think lesser of you if that was the case but it's not how you want to go on, whatever happened to you it’s taken a part of your identity and you refuse to give up on that half of you.

The chatter of the buzzing students pulls you from your identity crisis as you look up, smiling and waving back to the students who happily crowd around you, their voices intermingling as they whine and express their want for your classes again.

“Hey hey, you know what's up, I'll be back and teaching all of you soon again.” The statement only seems to pull unanimous whining as they complain of how they are forced to do textbook work instead of the interactive lessons you've been adamant about doing with your students.

“Who’s your sub?” You smile, crossing your arms. Rogue, who has been standing to the side of you, laughs as she crosses her own arms. “Who do you think?” Rogue is a part of the class you teach for the older kids in the school.

Your class is an extracurricular class that helps the students understand their powers with more in-depth understanding and ways to use their mutation for more than what they think is the only option for them.

Gives them more purpose to life and a safe way to explore their powers in a more logical sense. Your class is a fan favorite since you tend to stray away from all the boring textbook assignments and come up with interactive lessons and projects.

“Hmm, why do I have a feeling, Mr. Howlett has been covering for me?” The groans and laughs uproar from the students, and Rogue shakes her head, her smile only growing as she looks at you.

“History is definitely more in his depth, Ms.Anamnesis.” You try to cover your laugh with your hand as the students complain of how boring it's been, but you hold your hands out, quieting your teenage crowd.

“Hey, cut him some slack! I know I'm more your vibe, but just endure just a little longer. Now get to your last period before you're late!” You place your hand on Rogue’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly as you smile at her.

“Don’t let them bully him too much, okay?” She puffs out air in amusement as she waves her hand. “As if they would do it to his face, that old man scowl intimidates everyone.” She giggles before she turns to her last period. “See ya later!”

You smile widely, waving back to her. You’ve always enjoyed Rogue’s company and your proud of how far along she's come since the first day she arrived to the mansion, you’ve always put yourself in a position to welcome the new children who come to the school, always quick to comfort and get to know the child so they could have some sort of connection while getting adjusted to their new environment.

You also treated Logan the way you would with a new student, allowing him the space he needed but always available when needed, you were not afraid of rejection or the hard exterior that protects the vulnerability that lays below that, he was rugged and harsh but your kind and nonchalant behavior got through to him and soon enough he became comfortable and open to your reasoning, you would never tell him outright that your method was a well used tactic, you’d feel he'd take offense despite it working well with him.

Speaking of the devil, he turns the corner with his all too well favorite brand of cigar hanging out of his mouth, the smoke haloing around his head. “You know how the Professor feels about you smoking inside during school hours.” You smirk, tilting your head, his eyes snap in your direction as he takes the cigar out of his mouth.

“Well, it’s a good thing he's not around then.” He smirks in response as he steps in front of you teasingly, blowing the smoke up above your head. Moments like this makes you question whether Logan puts up the brooding front of the others intentionally because he tends to fall into this laid back and smug air whenever your within his sights, your convinced that if he could he would push every button of yours possible just so he could have an excuse to be in your space.

His moodiness is few and far between the two of you as he much prefers your small glares and witty comebacks. “I shouldn't be surprised when it comes to the likes of you.” You roll your eyes as you flick your wrist, the cigar slipping from his fingers and up into the air far from his reach as you take advantage of your telekinesis to smugly stare back at him, his disgruntled grunt a sound so pleasing to your ears.

“Always one to put me in my place, huh princess?” You shrug, twirling your fingers as the cigar in the air imitates the movement. He looks to you with a raised eyebrow. “Who else will if I don't?” He smacks his lips, tilting his head as he heavily places his hand on top of your head causing you to lose focus and the cigar to fall down right into his palm as he puts it out with his closed hand.

“Wouldn't have it any other way, darlin.” He practically purrs in your direction as he leans closer into your space, you just push your open palm against his cheek pushing him away as if you were annoyed but you wouldn't admit that you enjoyed him most when he acted this way, but it does little to deter him as you can feel his amused expression against your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He pulls back chuckling, as he runs his hand through his hair, the little tufts cause a smile to pull over your lips amusingly. “Anyway, we're training today in the danger room, so get ready.” He's quick to lightly flick your forehead playfully as you groan at the mention of training.

You and Logan aren't paired as often as he would like when it came to hand to hand combat training, it happened very rarely so he's always on top of the schedule for those times and although you did enjoy training with Logan, it could be pretty brutal when it came to the soreness of your bones the day after, it was an upside that Logan looked pretty good in those tight compression shirts you convinced him to start wearing for training.

“Ugh, fine.” Your lackluster response brings a glint to his eye as he ruffles your hair. “Don't be late.” You mockingly mimic him as you sludge your way to your room to get ready, mentally preparing yourself to get thrown around the danger room in the least sexy way possible.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○

You breathe in deeply, stretching your neck side to side loosening you limbs in front of the steel door to the danger room, you know you could do all this inside but you couldn't help but stall knowing that Logan was waiting for you inside, he more than likely knew you were outside anyway due to his enhanced hearing but you really didn't care as you try to calm your beating heart.

This isn't anything new to you but it is without the full scope of your powers at your benefit, it often gives you an upper hand knowing that you have a multitude of options when it came to both of your powers but your basically down to only 1 option with a small interval of time with the other, you'll have to make due.

As you tap the screen opening the door, you see Logan stretching his arm above him, the other hand gripping his right elbow as he tugged in the opposite direction, the movement causing his tight black shirt to ride up giving you an eyeful of his sculpted abdomen and the happy trail leading down into his sweatpants, you quickly look away coughing into your closed fist.

“Glad you finally made it. I thought you were gonna run off again.” His small grin is telling that he knew you were stalling, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes as you threw your towel to the side before cracking your knuckles, relieving the tension in between your fingers.

“Uh-huh, as if that would ever happen.” As you crouch touching your fingers to your toes, he stands cracking his neck, his head flicking to the side, his eyes hooded as he towers over you. “Let's see what you got today, Kid.” You jump up, flicking your finger under his chin as you turn your body away from him as you walk to mats, hyping yourself up.

“Sure thing, ol’ man.” You just know that he's taken slight offense to that as he makes his way to the opposite end to you, the narrow of his eyes and the slight condescending smirk making you feel like your heart may have skipped a beat, he's probably gonna make you eat your words, you don't know if you should be scared or excited.

“We'll see who's old by the end of this.” The two of you position yourself, the tension of the air shifting entirely as you stare the other down. “We'll see.”

The stare down was intense as you observed the other's stance, it was almost like a game of chicken, challenging the other to make the first move but Logan isn't known for his patience as he rushes forward toward you.

You run forward with your hands clenched and when your just within reach of him, you skid to the side completely springing yourself into the air, your hands pushing downwards using your telekinesis to propel your body up and over him as you shift your body around last second kicking him in the back sending him stumbling foward, he's quick to turn grabbing your wrist and swinging your body in the opposite direction.

You crouch, your fingernails digging into the mat to prevent yourself from slamming into the wall behind you. Logan surges forward grabbing you by the waist and allowing his body to fall forward in a attempt of slamming you into the ground but your open palms allow your mutation to stop the momentum as you knee his shoulder, freeing yourself from his tight grip. you twist yourself, lifting your leg up and over his head and onto his opposite shoulder, his head now between your thighs and completely under your mercy as he tries tossing you off.

You slap your hands over his ears, your mind allowing you to emit a high pitched static in his ears causing him to yell out and a feral growl rips from his chest as he manages to toss you off of him, you skid a foot away and before you know it he's on all fours, using his claws to propel him forward towards you and as you try to create distance between the two of you, it's no use as he manages to pin you down.

Your deep breaths intermingle with his as he has you pinned between his body and the training mat and as he gazes down at you, his eyes shift from your eyes and lips, his mouth slightly agape displaying his sharp canines. His smirk finds its way back on his lips as he pushes your hair from your face, his eyebrow raising teasingly.

“Who's old now?” You huff, suddenly raising both your legs pushing into his stomach and kicking him off of you and jumping up, back into position as you motion a ‘come hither’ to him with your fingers. “We're not finished yet, ol’ man.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

There it is, the ache and soreness settling in your bones that you've been dreading the day after. You knew that training with Logan was gonna become a competition of who was gonna tap out first, it only ended on a agreed truce since you two refused to give in for hours and others needed the danger room for their own training sessions, the mat was in dire need of replacement from all the claw marks that shredded through it.

As you lay in your bed trying to stretch out the pains in your body, you hold your hand out in front of you, your big mission is just on the horizon and all you have is your telekinetic power to make up for it. Dragging yourself out of bed for the recap meeting with the Professor was excruciating in all ways to be expected.

The grunt and groans only increasing as you heard multiple knocks on your door, one is fast and is intentionally rhythmic and the other loud and with an all familiar annoying edge to it, your door swings open with swiftly as your met with the faces of your beloved friends who love getting on your nerves.

Logan and Ororo smile at your laid out figure sprawled out on the floor, your whines and groans only egging them on to annoy you even more.

“Get her, Logan.” He salutes Ororo as he’s quick to scoop you up on his shoulder, your yells echoing down the hallways as you kick your feet and hit his back. It doesn't faze him at all. “Quiet down, girl.” His hand smacks down hard on your ass, your indignant scream loud as you smack the back of his head in retaliation. “You asshole! Put me down!”

As he strides down to the lower floors, you all pass by Scott, and he’s not even surprised by the commotion as his head turns slowly following after your movements before sighing, shaking his head.

“Logan, can you stop roughhousing her.” Scott follows after while you yell in agreement, kicking your legs. “yeah, you brute!” He chuckles as the hidden door to the elevator opens only, then he puts you down.

“You like it.” You scoff before turning to Ororo with a scowl. “I can’t believe you let him treat me this way.” She pulls your arm stepping into the elevator, a grin on her lips as she innocently lays her head on your shoulder, fluttering her lashes at you. “There’s only so much I can do, sweetness.”

You roll your eyes as you pull Logan by the front of his shirt into the lift. He stumbles in his arm, stretched out, caging you between him and the wall as he grins slyly at you. “Hey.” You're quick to flick your wrist, causing him to be pushed into the side of the elevator. “Move, you dog. Scott, get in." Scott is lowly laughing into his fist, clearing his throat, but the smirk is obvious as day on his face as Logan scowls at him. “Let's hurry up before we're late.”

○●○●○●○●○●○●

The atmosphere is serious as you go over the details of the mission. You're up against the Acolytes, and you are to retrieve their documents for their next plan to exterminate the human race once again. They have resorted to taking in innocent mutant children, manipulating them into thinking that in order to have a safer life, they'll have to take on humans.

Your task in this mission is to defend against the enemy mutants outside the compound along with Logan, Scott, and Colossus while Jean, Storm, and Rogue make way into the compound to get to the documents and rescue the mutant children.

You are to fight until the government can step in and arrest the enemy mutants, or at least until you have the desired results, then can you retreat.

“We are fighting against those who have turned their back on humanity. Be on look out for Magneto,” You can feel the irritation building in your chest, the twitch in your brow grabbing Logan's attention as he’s leaned against the wall next to you, his hip bumping into yours. You nod in acknowledgment, bumping him back.

“Remember we fight as a team, stick together.” Scott's voice is tense with encouragement. He looks around the room, a way of reassuring you all of your purpose to this team. “Let’s suit up.”

Sharp and short, it’s showtime.

○●○●○●○●○●○

It's times like this that wrings your insides with unmeasurable nerves as you approach the designated spot of operations, the black bird within the cover of Storm’s dense clouds.

You worry for the safety of your team and your ability to protect them from the uncertainties that hover over you all, the air thick with unspoken apprehension, the tangibility of the situation heavy on your shoulders.

You outstretch your hands out as you shroud the teams minds with comforting images taking advantage of the easiness of manipulating deja vu, easing the tension by triggering that sense of familiarity.

You felt like you were choking on the on edge atmosphere, so when there’s a unanimous sigh released, you felt your taut shoulders drop with relief.

“Approaching at approximately 0500.” Storm voices as she switches notches on the panel in front of her, you sigh deeply cracking your knuckles releasing the tension from your hands, Logan mimics you from the side of you and as you look at him, he shoots you a reassuring smile.

“Relax, Princess. I got your back.” You smile back, your hand reaching towards him, he’s quick to envelope your hand with his, the hold anchoring the both of you.

“Right back at ya, Wolvie.”

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Panic struck through you as you watched the chaos ensued around you, the wind blistering your skin from the sudden snow storm Ororo commenced.

You blocked the path that the others took into the compound throwing a huge pine tree in the direction of the enemy mutants, pushing them far back into the battleground where Logan and Scott parlayed their attacks.

Colossus was occupied with Juggernaut as their fight tore down half the forest. As you turned to back up the others, you felt a startling pain take hold of your head gripping your head as you looked at the source, a woman’s hand held out as she attempted to mind control you, her face contorted with strained effort.

Your teeth grinded harshly, you eyes narrowing as you allowed the defenses in your mind to strike her with precise aggression, she screams out in pain, her hands grabbing her head, shaking her head incessantly

You jump up and rush towards her. You towered over her hunched over figure, cupping your hands over her ears and emitting a high-frequency ring into her ears immediately knocking her out. You took off towards Logan and Scott, blocking the flame wall from Pyro with your telekinesis, protecting Scott from getting caged in, you pushed back against him.

“Scott, shoot the headlight!” Scott nods as he laser the headlight over Pyro, causing it to topple over him immediately, ceasing his fire show. You quickly tear off his wrist, contraping tossing it behind you.

“Where’s Logan?” You ask Scott as he looks around in search for the dark haired man, it wasn’t long before the two of you heard his rage filled scream from the crumbling compound, you two ran in that direction.

“You need to look for the others, take them to safety!” You yell to Scott, he quickly nods as he heads in the opposite direction where Jean and Ororo last was, you hoped that they all made it out safely.

Your blood ran cold as you took in the scene before you, Magneto had Logan pinned to the wall, your fingers tingle with the pulse of your power, your breathing heavy as you stalk closer the lights flickering with energy building around you.

Your anger boils over as Magneto sends Logan flying through the walls causing the metal ceiling to pin him down, his lack of movement causing an angry yell to pull from you as you lift all objects around you, the static of your powers sizzling in the air and catching Magneto’s attention.

“Oh Anamnesis, how nice of you to join us,” You toss everything in your path in his direction, your hair standing from the overwhelming power stemming from your body. “I see someone’s been practicing.” He chuckles as he blocks the debris. You clench your teeth as you levitate off the ground, and the compound shakes all around you.

“It’s too bad the same can’t be said for Logan.” All the windows crash in as you throw your hand in his direction. “SHUT UP!” He tries to block but the glass shards slice through his skin, a expression akin to panic crosses his face, you can feel the immense rage building in your body as you continue to power up your mutation and you ignore the growing pain in your head until you feel a snap in your mind.

Everything rushing back to you as the blockades and defenses deteriorate, the memories and the anguish pulling you into the depths blinding you to everything as your scream echos to unbelievable distances, your mind pushing out the deafening sound waves and illusions right before Magneto’s eyes.

He backs away as the walls and roof top of the compound comes crumbling down. He retreats before he can be pulled down with the building.

You hear the Professor’s voice in your mind, pushing past the anger and anguish that you're drowning in. “Come back to us, don't let it control you.”

Your powers slowly falter as you close your eyes allowing the Professor's voice to talk you down, you allow your body to fall to the ground as the tears well up in your eyes before your head snaps up.

“Logan!” You run over to him, lifting the debris off him. He’s still as you try to wake him. “Professor! Logan’s not waking!” You sob, the panic enveloping you as you bring him to your chest.

“Please Lo! Wake up!” You shake him, but it’s no use as you don't even see a flutter of his eyes. “I can't seem to get through to his mind,” the Professor’s voice echoes in your mind, your eyebrows furrow as your teardrops land on Logan's cheek.

“Something seems to be blocking me.” You sob as you bring your forehead down on his, your hand going over his eyes. “I'm so sorry, Logan,” you whimper, undoing all the blockades and delusions from his mind. “It was all my fault. It was me.” You caress his cheek as you cry in silence before the Professor speaks up.

“It's done with, worry, not child,” You squeeze your eyes shut in shame as you hear the acknowledgment in his voice. “He’s gonna be okay.” You can only hope so.

○●○○●○●○●○●○●○

The familiar smell of the antiseptic smell in the infirmary fills your senses as you sit by the table that Logan's laying on, you have refused to move an inch in fear of not being there when he wakes.

The steady beep on the heart monitor doing little to settle your nerves, he's gotten so many head injuries that you worry he may never wake up, you've checked him over a hundred times already, every cut and bruise long since healed by his impressive regeneration.

Jean has been constantly reassuring you that he'll pull through, worriedly looking over to you each time she steps into the lab but she knows better than to try and pull you away from him during a time like this, you and Logan are two of the most hard headed people there ever was to walk this earth when it comes to each other.

You gently caress your fingers over his knuckles, your eyes red and hazy as you think back on everything that you blocked out of your memory, the long nights spent in each other's arms, the warmth of his body on yours, the way he tasted right on the tip of your tongue.

You sigh deeply, you truly are way out of your depth, it was dumb decision after dumb decision, you could've killed yourself and possibly mess with Logan’s mind irreparably, the pain of not being his truly was a big pill to swallow, the love you have for him may have been the death of you otherwise.

Your head snaps up when you hear the groans escaping Logan, his body twitching and his face scrunched with an indiscernible expression. “Logan? Can you hear me, love?” Your only met with a groan before he springs up, the all too familiar ‘snikt’ of his claws reverberating off the infirmary walls, his head turns in a panic before his hazel eyes land on you, his voice breathy and with a relieved edge when he says your name as he jumps off the table enveloping you into his arms.

You wrap your arms around his neck, and his face is buried into the crook of your neck as he lifts you off the floor. “Oh God, Logan. I was so scared.” His grip tightens as he refuses to release you from his hold. “You're all alright?” His voice is muffled as he asks the question, you nod feeling the tears already welling up in your eyes. “Yes, everyone's safe.” He sighs deeply as pulls back to look you in the face, past the relief that everyone is okay, there's the anguish you've been dreading, everything is intact in his mind and you're confronted with the aftermath of your actions.

“Why?” The question comes out choked as he tries to understand your actions, his eyes glassy but stubbornly refuses to shed any tears. “I'm so sorry, I never intended to hurt you.” He pulls away from you as he looks to the door, his body desperate to escape the pain taking hold of him, he feels all the emotions gripping his subconscious as all the memories of you return to their rightful place. “I trusted you, you promised..”

Your hand reaches out, but you drop your hand out of defeat. There is no way of excusing your actions, and you hurt him while trying to protect what was left of your aching heart. “It hurt too much, I just wanted it to stop..” he turns to you, the furrow of his brow making your heart hurt wildly at the thought of him being angry at you, but you deserved his anger, his resentment.

His chest heaves as he looks you over, his mind trying to conjure anything up to help him fully access the situation, to somehow alienate his emotions from you. His hand reaches out towards your face as if he was gonna brush back the strand of hair in front of your eyes before he snaps his hand back and storms out the door, your tears trailing down your face in silent resignation.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○

That night, you laid in your bed as sleep evaded you. You stared up at the ceiling of your room. It was like everything was coming back to you with vengeance, biting at every surface on your body as punishment.

The empty feeling that consumes you is painful and dull at the same time, you try to hold back the tears but they slip out of your eyes with no effort, sticky and hot against your skin as your eyes stare with an empty gaze into the darkness. You would be haunted by this feeling. You would never forgive yourself for the harm that you caused.

You wouldn't forgive yourself for breaking your promise to Logan. Your thoughts stall as you hear a knock at your door. You groggily pull yourself from your bed as you wipe your eyes harshly, the puffiness of your eyes causing you to sigh. You pull your oversized flannel that you stole from Logan down to cover the top of your thighs as you open your bedroom door.

Logan lurches forward, kissing you roughly as he pushes his way into your room. You yelp in surprise, but your eyes flutter close as he pulls your body into his before he pulls back “You fucked up bad but God, I love you.”

He kicks the door closed with his foot as he lifts you up and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist. “I'm so sorry, Logan.” You whisper into his lips as he trails down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin.

“Apologize by being mine and only mine, doll.” His tone is aggressive with want as your hands run through his dark hair, his dog tags clinking in the otherwise quiet room. “I love you, Logan.” He's quick to kiss you again as he sits on the edge of your bed, his hand gripping the back of your neck.

“I love you too, this whole damn time.” His voice is genuine, and his eyes tell you everything you need to know. This whole time, it wasn't just casual. It was everything.

《 TAGLIST 》

@flower-majesty-anon

@fandomsunited

@plan3t-plut0

@thewiselionessss

@the-queen-of-sorrows

@nerrivm

@aliisa-jones

@solarbxby

@uhnanix

@appetencyfortacos

@abarelyexistentbeing

@scarlett-witchhh

@butchers-girl

@thecraziestcrayon

@onlythehobi

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #deadpool & wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool 3 #xmen logan #xmen wolverine #x men #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

267 notes · View notes