#Sub!Logan Howlett | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

x-press-it · 5 months ago

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Devilish Desires - 7/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others...) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn't know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited.

I kept getting derailled by stuff but El Famoso Chapter 7 (as my hubby has been calling it those last weeks) is finally done T^T I think my ADHD brain doesn't want me to finish this story because once it's done, it's done and I'll have to say goodbye to Ezekiel and this Logan. Regarding the poll I made about male x male smut, as the results were mixed, if I write anything between Logan and Zeek, I'll make this a bonus scene. Okay, people, it's time to feed the hunger again :)

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 7/8

Word Count: 12.4K / 60K+ for now

E opened their eyes as the ray of the sun stroked their skin. The golden light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Next to them, Logan was still sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his expression peaceful—more so than E had ever seen since their first encounter in that tense hallway weeks ago.

They let their gaze roam over the lines of his face, memorizing every detail: the scruff along his jaw, the way his lashes rested against his cheek, and how his tousled hair fell messily across his brow, lending him an almost boyish look. The sight stirred a rare, warm smile from E, a glimmer of something fragile and cherished flickering within them.

Despite the contentment that coursed through their veins, a seed of resolve pressed at the back of their mind, they didn’t want to disturb him, nor did they want him to wake up alone, with only the ghost of their presence left in the warmth of the sheets. But time wasn’t on their side, as the rest of the mansion was about to awaken.

E brushed their fingers lightly along Logan’s arm, feeling the solid muscle shift beneath their touch even as he slept, the faint brush of their fingers drawing a soft, instinctive hum from him. Slowly, his eyes cracked open, still heavy with the haze of sleep.

The sharp alertness that often defined him flickered briefly before his gaze landed on them. Almost immediately, his features softened, the edge of wariness melting into something softer.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse, but so low it felt like a quiet confession.

E’s lips curved in a small, tender smile. Something in his tone, softer than anything they’d ever expected from him, made their old, dusty heart stutter in their chest. For all the years they’d walked the earth, never had they been spoken to in such a way.

“Hey,” they responded in kind, voice almost shy as their eyes traced his features—the rugged lines of his face, the way his hair stuck up slightly, the barest hint of something unguarded in his expression.

Logan shifted slightly, his arm flexing beneath their touch, though he made no move to pull away. “Leavin’ already?” he asked, the whisper still rough but edged with something else—an unspoken reluctance, maybe, or the wish to hold onto this fleeting moment a little longer.

E leaned in, their lips brushing against his temple. “Wouldn’t want people to find out they’re right about us, would we?” Their voice was tinged with light humor, but the reference to Scott’s pointed remarks during the trial still lingered between them. The subtle accusation—that it was easy for lovers to fight in sync—now felt like he had seen right through them, and they both didn’t like that.

Logan’s face turned thoughtful, a shadow of concern settling over his features. “Is there anything we can do about it?” he asked, the question heavy with the understanding that staying under the radar was going to become increasingly difficult in the days yet to come. “Turn their feelings around, maybe?”

“There might be a solution,” E said, their tone serious. “But you’re not going to like it.”

He frowned, curiosity mingled with caution. “Go on, lay it out.”

“We act like something happened between us,” they explained, eyes flickering with a hint of reluctance. “Something bad. We make them believe we can’t stand each other anymore.” They paused, studying Logan’s reaction. “It has to be convincing, Logan. Real mean. We’ll need to sell it, even if it means hurting each other in the process.”

Logan exhaled slowly, the tension in his jaw tightening as the weight of the plan settled on him. “You’re right—I don’t like it. But I see how it could work.” His eyes met theirs, resigned but resolute. “If you’re game, I’m in.”

A small smile, bittersweet and fleeting, crossed E’s lips as they leaned in and kissed his cheek. “We may have to do it more than once.”

“Yeah,” Logan said with a heavy nod. “The more we do it, the more convincing it’ll look.”

They sat in the stillness that followed, letting the warmth between them linger just a moment longer before the masks would have to come on and the distance between them would become painfully real.

The silence in the room grew heavier, the weight of what they were about to do settling over them. In a rare moment of connexion, E reached for Logan’s fingers, the tips of their own brushing against his in a soft, tentative dance. Logan’s response was immediate; he closed his hand around theirs, the warmth a brief comfort against the cold edge of reality.

“It’s a difficult time to go through,” they murmured. Their voice, barely above a whisper, carried the tremor of uncertainty. They tried to sound reassuring, though the words were as much for themselves as for him. “We need to focus on the moments we’ll be alone. Let’s not let ourselves get lost in our own lies.”

Logan nodded, his thumb moving in slow circles, brushing gently over the back of their hand. His expression was raw, the look on his face saying everything words couldn’t—the pain of what lay ahead, the quiet acceptance of it, and the unyielding resolve to shield them, even if it meant taking the fall himself.

The hurt, etched into the hard lines of his face, was a reflection of everything E felt. They both knew this was the quickest way to shift the tide, to keep E safe from the suspicion tightening around them like a noose. And if it meant bearing the brunt of it, he would—because of the fierce, protective feeling blazing in his chest, but also because he trusted them.

E let out a heavy sigh, their lips pressing into a thin line before they smoothed back the strands of his hair with their free hand, fingers brushing through the dark mess. They were about to speak when Logan’s head turned slightly, his ears twitching as he picked up the faint sound of running water. It came from the direction of Kurt’s room, judging by the echo through the walls.

Logan’s gaze shifted back to them, softer now but edged with urgency. He brought their hand to his lips, pressing a gentle, lingering, kiss to their knuckles. “You have to go,” he said, voice low and reluctant. “People are starting to wake up.”

E exhaled deeply again, the air leaving their mouth almost trembling, but they nodded. They leaned forward, pressing their forehead against his in a quiet, intimate gesture that said everything they couldn’t put into words.

“See you around, pretty boy,” they whispered, the familiar teasing lilt in their voice dulled by the reality of what was to come.

Logan gave a small nod in return, the reluctance in his eyes mirrored by the heaviness in his chest. The thought of what they were about to do—the lies they’d weave to protect their arrangement—made the air between them feel sharper, more fragile.

He watched as they slipped out of the room, the emptiness they left in their wake pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake. It was a stinging sense of loss, one he knew would linger long after the door closed behind them.

Once he found himself alone, he rose from the bed, the space around him cool and empty in the absence of E. Their scent lingered faintly in the room, and his heart ached with want—no, the need—to see them, to have them against him, to touch them.

What was happening to him? Was he that far gone already? Wrapped around their little finger? His head felt foggy, exhaustion creeping in at the edges of his awareness, adding to the strange weight pressing against his chest. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts, willing the heaviness away before heading to the bathroom.

The steady patter of water as he showered grounded him, but it did little to clear the memories that crowded his mind. E’s teasing smile, their eyes dancing with mischief; the way they’d pushed and pulled at him the night before, challenging him yet surrendering with a trust so deep it shook him to his core.

The thought of it sent warmth coursing through him, a pulse that beat in time with the thrum of the water. They had told him they were a giver—always putting others first. For so long, they hadn’t allowed themselves to be selfish, maybe not ever. Only once in their long, lonely existence.

But with him, they had.

That truth sank into him, mingling with a sense of awe that twisted into longing. He knew a thing or two about keeping things—instincts, urges, emotions—in check for years, decades, centuries even. The weight of being chosen by someone who, like him, had kept their guard so high for so long was something he felt with every fiber of his soul, making him shiver with pride.

He’d known satisfaction before, shared heated moments with countless partners over the span of nearly two centuries—men and women, different faces and places—but this… this had struck deeper than he thought possible.

Rinsing the shampoo from his hair, Logan let out a breath that fogged the glass wall of his shower. His mind replayed the previous night, as if on loop: the way E had looked at him, unguarded and raw; how their movements had mirrored a kind of surrender that words couldn’t touch.

That feeling of being seen and wanted—not just as a weapon, not just as a mutant or a means to an end, but as himself. Whole. Flawed. It was dangerous, intoxicating. A craving took root in his chest, a quiet yet insistent need for more of that feeling, more of them.

Stepping out of the shower, he dried himself off, wrapping a towel around his waist before brushing his teeth. The routine motions were automatic, but his mind spun with those vivid images, heat already pooling low in his belly.

He styled his hair, the habitual tug of the comb pulling him back to the present, but not completely. Not when his senses were still keenly aware of their scent lingering on his skin despite the shower, faint but unmistakable, as if they had marked him as theirs.

One night. That’s all it had taken for them to make him theirs. He got dressed before making his bed with the practiced precision of someone who’d been a soldier for a long time, the last trace of E smoothed out beneath the taut sheets. Moving on, his hand reached for the small, worn notebook on the nightstand—a habit, a piece of routine that kept him anchored. But today, even that felt different. His eyes flicked over the scribbled notes—reminders and plans for his lectures—but they barely registered. His mind was still caught in the gravity of E’s laughter, the way it had curled around him, warm and dangerous.

Logan made his way to his desk and sat down, the notepad now forgotten in his grip. No matter how many mornings he’d seen after tangled nights, none of them carried this. None of them ever left him feeling whole the way E had, even if just for a fleeting moment—before the hollowness crept in as soon as they were gone.

His reflection caught his eye in the mirror: rougher around the edges than usual, but still carrying that stubborn resilience he never seemed to lose. Tugging at his shirt collar, he adjusted the fit of his flannel, then ran a hand through his hair to push it back into place. A breath shuddered out of him as he wrestled the knot in his chest, forcing himself to focus.

With one final glance, he made sure everything was in order—boots laced tight, notepad folded neatly on the desk’s edge, though the ghost of last night still clung to the room. He inhaled deeply, the faint scent of E lingering in the air, uninvited in the way it stirred memories too raw, too exposing.

The space felt emptier than it should, as though a piece of it—and him—had left with them. Closing his eyes briefly, he centered himself, then rose and made his way down the hallway to the mansion’s first floor.

The hum of early morning voices grew louder as he neared the kitchen. He could already pick out Jean’s quiet laughter and Scott’s steady, self-assured tone. The familiar sounds grounded him, even as a faint tug of anticipation simmered at the edges of his thoughts.

When he entered, the conversation quieted momentarily as their eyes turned toward him. Jean and Scott shared a glance, surprised to see him this late; Logan was usually here long before either of them. He nodded their way—silent, but not unfriendly—before crossing to the counter. Grabbing the coffee pot, he filled his mug and brought it close, the steam curling in the air.

He was still lost in thought when E entered, their stride confident, eyes sharp with mischief. The air shifted the moment they stepped in, crackling like an unspoken challenge. Their smile was subtle, but unmistakably smug, as if they owned the space.

“Morning, everyone,” they greeted, their voice silk, effortless. Two of the three people they addressed didn’t seem entirely comfortable, their wariness obvious, but E wore their nonchalance like armor, as though they couldn’t care less. They moved through the room with practiced ease, every motion so deliberate, so fluid, that it made Logan’s pulse quicken in a way that used to irritate him—but now, it simply thrilled him.

They made this masquerade look effortless.

Their eyes met his, a flicker of shared understanding passing between them before they glanced away, the moment hidden beneath a mask of casual indifference.

They reached for the coffee pot, their fingers brushing Logan’s where his hand rested casually on the counter. The touch was fleeting, something no one else in the room would notice, but it left a warmth that lingered between them. The slight squeeze they gave him was enough to send a silent message: brace yourself. His jaw tensed, but he masked it with a sip, his gaze hardening as he prepared for whatever came next.

“Black coffee again, Logan?” E’s voice broke the silence, playful and biting. “You ever consider trying something with flavor?” They poured themselves a cup, their smirk deepening as they glanced over their shoulder at him.

Logan’s response was automatic, rough, as he played along, letting them lead the dance of their back and forth. “Coffee’s coffee. Doesn’t need all that extra crap.”

E’s eyebrows arched, their grin widening as if they’d caught him off-guard with a well-placed jab. “Ah, a man of simple tastes. Should’ve figured.”

He met their eyes, a silent challenge sparking between them. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The words came out with an edge, but there was a tension in his chest that had nothing to do with annoyance.

“Oh, nothing.” E shrugged, taking a sip of their coffee, their eyes dancing with amusement. “Just that I thought someone with your experience might be a bit more adventurous.”

Logan felt the tension coil tight in his chest, the line between reality and performance starting to blur. He forced his expression into one of irritation, letting a spark of anger flicker in his eyes. Leaning into the feeling to give the act weight, he set his mug down with a deliberate thud.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Last time someone thought they had me figured out, it didn’t end too pretty,” he said, letting the hint of a growl seep into his voice. Jean and Scott exchanged glances, brows raising as they picked up on the shift in atmosphere.

E’s smirk grew sharper, almost daring. “Wouldn’t dream of it, old man,” they retorted, a flick of mock respect in their tone that had the others in the room shifting uncomfortably. Jean's eyes darted between them, curiosity turning into concern as the tension thickened.

Logan clenched his jaw, leaning forward just enough to invade E’s space, his face a mask of barely-contained fury. “Old man? You better watch your mouth or I’ll remind you why you don’t cross me, kid.”

Scott’s gaze snapped to them, mouth opening to intervene, but E beat him to it. They laughed, a sharp, biting sound that bounced off the walls and made Logan’s skin prickle. “Oh, I’m terrified,” they said, their words dripping with sarcasm. “Please, Logan, save the dramatics. You’re not as intimidating as you think, kitty cat.”

The silence that followed was suffocating, and Logan felt his pulse thunder in his ears. He reminded himself that this was part of the plan, that E’s sharp jabs were calculated. But damn if it didn’t cut deeper than he’d expected. He caught the brief flicker of apology in their eyes, barely noticeable to anyone but him.

Jean’s voice cut through the standoff, soft but steady. “Is everything okay here?” she asked, trying to smooth the tension with a touch of authority.

Logan didn’t break eye contact with E as he replied, “Peachy, Jeannie. Just a friendly morning chat.”

“Yeah, friendly,” E added, their tone so falsely sweet it made Jean’s frown deepen.

Scott’s eyes narrowed, suspicion clear as day. “Well, if you two are done, maybe we can all get on with our morning without the theatrics.”

Logan bit back a retort, taking a step back and grabbing his coffee cup. The room was stifling now, and he could feel the way E’s presence tugged at him even as they stood apart. “Yeah. We’re done,” he muttered before turning his back and leaving, letting the act settle like a stone in his gut.

Behind him, he heard E’s soft chuckle, a practiced sound meant to sting, and it did. But they’d both agreed—this was the way it had to be. And so, the distance began.

Logan spent the hours following the kitchen fight lost in his thoughts, the conversation replaying in his mind like a broken record. He knew it wasn’t real—that much was clear—but E’s words had hit harder than he’d anticipated. Not because there was any truth to them, but because they came from them. A part of him hated how it lingered, stirring something raw inside. He wasn’t the type to let something like this gnaw at him. He was the Wolverine, damn it. But it still dug under his skin.

He tried to shake it off, but the feeling wouldn’t fade. He needed to see them. To remind himself it was all just an act.

By the time he reached the library, the weight in his chest had grown unbearable. E was hunched over a stack of papers at one of the long oak tables, their focus intent on something that looked law-related. Figures. Logan leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching them. He was always amazed by how easily they could shut everything else out. He let the silence hang for a beat before pushing himself off the door and making his way inside.

E glanced up when he approached, the brief flicker of relief in their eyes catching him off guard. “Logan,” they said softly, setting the pen down. The words were warm, but there was something unreadable beneath them.

“Got a minute?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost careful.

“For you? Always,” E replied, their smile faint but genuine.

Logan sat across from them, his rough hands resting on the polished surface of the table. He didn’t quite know how to start, what to say, but when he opened his mouth, the words just poured out of him, unguarded. “That stuff in the kitchen,” raw emotion coated the rough edges of his voice, “I know it’s all for show, but… damn, you didn’t hold back.”

E winced slightly, their gaze dropping to their notes. “I know. I’m sorry. I hated saying it.” They took a breath, their eyes meeting his again, darker now, their expression tight. “Unfortunately, we might need to take it up a notch. Be even more convincing.”

Logan leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his voice casual. “It’s fine. I ain’t gonna lose sleep over it.” He shot them a look, though—he wasn’t convinced by his own lie. Not entirely. “But if we need to go harder… what’s the plan?”

E’s eyes searched his face for a moment, their fingers brushing against his where they rested on the table. It was brief, but it caught him off guard, something warm and unspoken passing between them. “We make it meaner,” they said quietly, their voice low, tinged with a hint of regret. “You push me, I push back harder. We have to make them believe it’s personal.”

Logan nodded slowly, though the idea of making it worse, of biting deeper, didn’t sit well with him. “You sure you’re up for that?” he asked, his voice gruff despite himself.

“If it means we’ll have better days, then yeah, I am.” E’s hand lingered for a moment longer, their thumb tracing an absent pattern on his skin. The small touch, so simple but with the weight of everything unspoken, grounded him, a silent reassurance amid the chaos they were building. “Are you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a second, the noise of the world outside the library faded away. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his chest releasing with the breath. “Yeah. I’m in.”

A slight twitch at the corners of E’s lips. There was something almost tender in their gaze, a fleeting softness. But that moment was broken by the sound of footsteps approaching. Their expression shifted in an instant—like a switch had been flipped, delicate features hardening suddenly—and their hand pulled away from his, curling into a fist.

Before Logan could react, they smacked him across the face with a loud slap, the sound echoing in the quiet library. “Who the hell do you think you are, Howlett?” E snapped, their voice cold and cutting, each word like the crack of a whip. “Talking to me like that? You think you can just come in here and throw your weight around?”

Logan blinked, the sting of the slap still fresh on his skin, but it wasn’t just the pain that lingered—it was the venom in their tone, keen and raw, that struck deeper. A flicker of heat stirred low in his gut, unbidden and maddening, the kind of sensation that set his instincts on edge. Damn it. He hated how his body responded to the bite of it, to the fire in their eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt this twisted pull, the way pain and tension tangled together in a way that left him craving more.

His gaze flicked toward the doorway, catching Hank standing there, a stack of books balanced in his arms. The doctor’s expression was frozen in surprise, his wide eyes darting between them. Logan forced the heat back, burying it under a frown.

Without missing a beat, his face twisted into a scowl, his jaw tightening as he played along. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you outta here, witch,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, practically vibrating with barely-contained intensity.

E scoffed, their eyes blazing as they leaned into the act. “Oh, don’t you worry, you rabid dog. I’m leaving. I can’t stand to breathe the same air as you right now.”

They swept up their papers in one sharp motion, the sound of rustling edges filling the heavy silence. Their shoulder brushed his as they stormed past, the contact deliberate and forceful. Logan didn’t move, his hands curling into fists on the table, every muscle in his body taut as he fought the urge to call after them—or worse, follow.

Hank stood rooted to the spot, his mouth opening slightly like he wanted to interject, but whatever words he had died before they could form. He stared after E, then shifted his gaze to Logan, clearly hesitant.

Finally, Logan broke the silence with a grunt, shoving his chair back roughly. The scrape of wood against the floor was loud in the stillness. “What’re you starin’ at, Hank?” His tone was gruff, laced with irritation, but the effort to keep the edge in his voice felt heavier than before.

Hank raised a single eyebrow, his composure sliding back into place like a well-worn mask. “I was about to ask if everything is all right, but… I suppose I already have my answer.”

Logan didn’t reply. Instead, he stalked toward the door, his steps heavy and deliberate, a growl rumbling low in his chest. The act was working. Too well, maybe. And for reasons he didn’t care to admit, that fact sat heavier in his gut than he liked.

Later that night, when sneaking into each other’s rooms wasn’t an option, they both found themselves in the forest clearing. Neither had planned it, but some unspoken pull brought them to this spot, far from the prying eyes and ears of the mansion. It was theirs—a sanctuary untouched by the chaos of their daily lives.

The clearing was quiet, the kind of stillness only the forest could hold. The soft rustle of leaves danced with the cool night breeze, and a sliver of moonlight spilled onto the grass, casting long shadows across the ground. Logan stood a few paces away, rolling his shoulders as he circled E, his gaze locked onto theirs. There was no need for pretense out here.

“You sure you wanna do this tonight?” he asked, his voice low and gruff, carrying a hint of concern that he couldn’t quite mask.

E’s lips curved into a smirk, their stance relaxed, yet poised. “What’s wrong, pretty boy? Afraid I might embarrass you?”

Logan snorted, his mouth twitching into a brief grin. “Ain’t no chance of that, darlin’. But you ain’t exactly fresh off the bench after today.”

“And you are?” E shot back, lunging forward with a quick burst of energy. Logan sidestepped with ease, their movements more familiar to him now. They twisted on their heel, throwing a jab that he caught mid-air, his hand closing firmly around their wrist. A shiver ran down their spine, stoking their hunger in the most exquisite way.

“Point taken,” he muttered, his voice tinged with amusement as he pulled them closer, his smirk returning.

The sparring unfolded in a steady rhythm, their movements fluid and purposeful. It wasn’t just a fight—it was a conversation in motion, a silent exchange of trust and challenge. Each strike, dodge, and counter carried its own cadence, a private language spoken in the dead of the night.

By the time they called it, E was sprawled on the grass, breathless and flushed, sweat glistening on their skin in a way that made Logan’s gaze linger a moment too long. He dropped down beside them, leaning his back against a tree, his eyes roaming over them as a heat that coiled low in his gut tightened, stirred by the sight of them so alive, so unguarded under the moonlight.

“You gotta work on that right hook,” he teased, the grin on his face softening the edge of his words.

E huffed, propping themselves up on their elbows. “I landed it once.”

“Once don’t make a streak, sweetheart,” Logan countered, his voice quieter now as his fingers brushed against theirs in the cool grass.

For a while, they both simply stayed there, the silence between them comfortable, filled only with the soft chirp of crickets and the distant whisper of leaves. Eventually, E sat up, leaning into Logan’s steady frame. Their hand rested lightly on his stomach, fingertips itching to slip beneath his shirt, but as his warmth enveloped them in a way that felt safe, grounding, they didn’t want to break the peace.

“It’s harder than I thought,” they said softly, the words barely breaking the stillness.

Logan turned slightly, his brow furrowing. “What is?”

“This whole thing.” E gestured vaguely at the forest, at him, at everything. “The fights. The secrecy. Hurting you. Hiding—just to be us. It’s only been one day, and I already hate it.”

Logan’s chest tightened, their words circling in his mind, refusing to settle. ‘Just to be us’. The unintentional confession lingered in the air between them, heavy and unspoken. It wasn’t just the exhaustion from the sparring session that had them speaking so openly—it was trust. Trust in him.

He looked down at them, nestled against him, their breathing steady. Their guard, that armor usually so rigid that centuries had forged, had slipped, leaving behind a version of them few ever got to see. There was a softness there, a vulnerability they rarely allowed, and it filled him with something between awe and a quiet ache. That they thought of them as a ‘us’, even subconsciously, stirred something deep in his chest—a mix of pride, longing, and adoration. That they trusted him enough to bare this side of them made his heart flutter in a way he hadn’t expected.

His hand moved without thought, his fingers brushing through their dark hair with a slow, deliberate reverence. The wavy strands slipped like silk between his fingers, tethering him in the moment, a silent reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting dream.

“It’s rough, Angel,” he said softly, his voice gravelly in the quiet. The nickname slipped out naturally, a little softer than usual, carrying more weight. He hesitated, letting the words sink in before adding, “But we’ll push through.”

E’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though their eyes remained fixed on his free hand, resting next to theirs on his stomach. “Yeah, I know,” they murmured. Their fingers shifted, brushing his for a moment before lacing them together. The contact felt soft, simple, yet charged with an unspoken understanding.

They exhaled, their voice tinged with frustration. “It would be easier if we could plan the fights, but we can’t. If we do, it’ll feel… off, staged. They’ll figure us out.”

Logan nodded slowly, his thumb sweeping over their knuckles in soothing circles. “You’re right. It’s gotta feel real… for them and for us.”

That last part slipped out before he could stop it, and he tensed, unsure if they’d catch the hidden meaning. E turned their head, meeting his gaze, their eyes searching his face. “And you’re okay with that?”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his defenses sliding back into place just enough. “I’ll live. Ain’t my first rodeo, sweetheart.” He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from their face, his hand lingering against their cheek before finding hers again. “‘Sides, I’ve had worse things thrown at me than words.”

They leaned into his touch, their eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before reopening, their expression softening. “I hate that it has to be this way,” they admitted quietly.

Logan let out a low, thoughtful hum, lowering his head to nuzzle lightly against theirs. “Me too, Eki,” he murmured almost hesitantly, his voice softer now. “But we’ll get through it. I know we will.”

It was the first time he called them this way. The name rolled off his tongue with a warmth he hadn’t intended, but it was there all the same—gentle and intimate, carrying more weight than he realized.

They stiffened ever so slightly, not out of discomfort but surprise. A flicker of something unfamiliar sparked in their chest at the sound of it, a flutter, and a quiet warmth bloomed around it as they tilted their head to glance at him, lips parting as though to respond, but no words came. The urge to kiss him, to lick and nip at his lips gripped their gut, but they couldn’t, not without harming him.

Instead, they stayed like that, the night wrapping around them both, the stars scattered above like silent witnesses. E sighed, leaning back into him, their head resting against his chest, and he instinctively tightened his arm around them, pulling them closer.

“At least we’ve got this,” he murmured after a long stretch of silence, his voice low but heavy with meaning.

E smiled faintly, their hand squeezing his. “Yeah,” they whispered, warmth coating her tone. “This is nice.”

Logan bent his head, pressing a tender kiss to the top of hers, the gesture unhurried and sincere. “It is,” he agreed.

For now, this was enough. The clearing remained their sanctuary, a pocket of time untouched by the outside world, as they held onto each other, finding strength in their shared determination to see this through, no matter the cost. Whatever came next, they’d face it—together.

The fights had started happening more often—small sparks igniting without warning, flaring into roaring fires. Every little thing became an excuse to clash, to bruise each other for show. It was a performance they played, and the mansion was their stage. It didn’t matter what set them off—a look, a comment, a minor disagreement—each moment seemed to lead them to scrape against each other’s nerves. Yet, beneath the verbal clashes, another kind of pyre burned. This one was different, stoked not by anger but by their need to reassure each other once the curtain fell. It consumed them in private, a fire that was anything but an act.

Logan could feel it burning now, simmering, as he watched E coming out of Charles’ office. He’d been on his way to his first class of the day when his gaze landed on them, and an unexpected warmth blossomed in his chest. They looked composed, calculating as usual, every line of their body a testament to the control they wielded so effortlessly. It was that same composure that made something inside him twist—a familiar frustration, a gnawing at his gut that tainted the lukewarm affection he felt for them.

He hated it—not the ache in his gut or the sight of them, but the distance their polished exterior created. It was a weight he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried. Every time, it reminded him that what they had now wasn’t simple anymore, wasn’t easy. There was no space for softness between them, not in public, at least until further notice.

A sigh slipped between his lips, and he braced himself. This was the perfect opportunity, and he couldn’t let it pass. So he picked up the pace, his boots echoing in the hallway as he approached, each step deliberate. E’s eyes caught him, but they didn’t flinch, though there was a flicker of something unguarded flashing across their face—caution—just for a second before the mask fell back into place. Their poise didn’t falter, but Logan saw through it.

“Well, look who’s here,” he drawled, playing the part, his voice loud enough to draw attention, the edge in his tone slicing through the quiet of the hallway, freezing a passing student in their step. “The school’s puppet master.”

E turned to face him fully, their gaze sharp and unreadable as they assessed him. “Howlett,” they replied, stepping into their role, voice low and steady, but it carried a warning. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t start something here.”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, I ain’t starting anything,” Logan shot back, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “Just calling it like I see it.” He took another step, closing the gap just enough to feel the tension coil tighter between them. “You’re always scheming, aren’t you? Pulling strings, keeping everyone in line.” His voice dropped lower, each word sharper than the last. “Bet half the staff’s already eating out of your hand.”

They straightened their stance, jaw tightened, the only crack in their armor. “I’m a qualified lawyer and I’m doing my job,” they said smoothly, though the words came out clipped. “You might want to try that sometime.”

Logan let out a bitter chuckle, his tone laced with mockery. “Oh, I’m workin’ just fine, sweetheart. Don’t need your little lectures. ‘Qualified lawyer,’ huh? Tell me—what’d you do to earn that title? Cheat your way through the bar exam? Maybe pay someone off?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, venomous growl, still very much audible to the audience gathering not far from them. “Or was it somethin’ else? Maybe you just slept your way to the top.”

The words hung in the air like a gunshot, the hallway falling deathly silent. A collective gasp rippled through the few students and staff watching the exchange, their eyes darting between the two of them, waiting for the fallout.

But against all odds, E’s face shifted, their expression a razor-thin mask of mockery, as if the words Logan had thrown at them were beneath consideration. “Watch your mouth, Howlett,” they snapped, voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Another comment like that, and I’ll have you up for sexual harassment.”

For a moment, everything froze. The crowd held its collective breath, the charged stillness pressing in on all sides. Logan’s fists clenched against his thighs, his muscles taut as if ready to snap, to strike at something—anything—to vent the storm that seemed to be brewing inside him. His breath hissed through his teeth, the silence surrounding them hanging thick in the air, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears.

A few feet from them, the door to Charles’ office swung open, its creak slicing through the tension, a subtle command that immediately stilled the room. The professor’s calm voice followed, cool and unyielding. “That will be enough.” The steady words cut through the sharp air with authority.

Every head turned as the headmaster entered the hallway, his gaze sweeping between Logan and E, the tension palpable. Logan stood bristling, fists still clenched at his sides, while E remained unflinching, their posture a perfect balance of defiance and composure.

“Logan,” Charles began, his tone measured but leaving no room for argument. “This behavior is unacceptable. Whatever concerns you have, this is not the way to address them. Such language and accusations have no place here.”

Logan’s jaw ticked, his teeth grinding together as he shot a glare toward Charles. “You don’t get it, Chuck—”

“On the contrary,” the Professor cut in, his voice firm but even. His eyes, clear and resolute, locked onto Logan’s with quiet strength. “I do. I know exactly what’s happening. But I’m telling you now: it stops here.”

The words hung in the air, firm. He shifted his gaze briefly to E, who stood calm and unaffected, their expression unreadable but charged with unspoken triumph. Logan’s chest rose and fell sharply, frustration seemingly rolling off him in palpable waves. His jaw remained clenched, posture taut, keen eyes betraying nothing but the simmering tension in his frame—a masterful performance that left no cracks for doubt.

Still, Charles continued, his focus shifting back to Logan with unwavering steadiness. “E has earned their place here,” he said, each word measured, deliberate. “Through hard work, expertise, and dedication. Qualities I expect you to recognize and respect. Whatever grievances you harbor, they do not justify this behavior.”

Logan’s chest tightened, his fists flexing against his thighs as a growl rumbled low in his throat. His eyes flicked to E, blazing with fiery defiance that looked convincingly real to anyone watching. Meanwhile, E, ever the picture of composure, turned to Charles with the ease of someone who knew how to play their cards perfectly.

“It’s fine, Professor,” they said smoothly, as if brushing off the situation as a passing annoyance. Their voice carried just enough weight to draw the attention of the onlookers. “Logan’s entitled to his opinions, misplaced as they are. My work isn’t for him to recognize—it’s for the students. That’s what matters.”

A faint murmur of admiration rippled through the crowd at E’s collected response. Logan’s shoulders tensed further, his apparent fury simmering just beneath the surface, but his eyes held a flicker of something almost imperceptible—an edge of satisfaction in how well the act was landing.

Charles nodded at E, his expression approving. “I admire your commitment, E. Truly. However,” he continued, turning back to Logan, his tone sharpening once more. “You are an example here, Logan,” he said, his words leaving no room for argument. “Consequently, I expect better from you. For now, I’d like a word with you in my office.”

Charles turned his wheelchair toward the open door, gesturing for Logan to follow. Logan didn’t move immediately, his body remaining taut, every muscle coiled as if ready to snap. His gaze stayed fixed on E for what felt like an eternity, the tension between them almost electric. But with a reluctant growl, he finally shifted, his heavy footsteps echoing as he stepped into the Professor’s office.

The door clicked shut behind him, its sound reverberating through the hall, leaving hushed conversations in its wake. The lawyer remained still for a moment, head held high, their composure unshaken as the students’ gazes lingered. Curiosity mingled with admiration in their stares, though none noticed the faint smirk curling at the corners of E’s lips—a near-invisible aura of triumph. Without a word, they turned, their stride deliberate, whispers of victory trailing behind them like shadows of their success.

In Charles’ office, the door clicked softly shut, sealing off the muffled hum of conversations outside. Logan crossed the room with deliberate strides, his arms folding tightly over his chest as he stopped in front of the Professor. His stance was taut, his brows drawn, and his jaw clenched—all the hallmarks of frustration expertly crafted into an act that, to anyone else, would seem entirely genuine.

Charles, ever composed, sat calmly behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of him. His steady gaze met Logan’s, but the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes betrayed an edge of knowing that Logan instantly caught. The flicker of amusement sent a ripple of unease through Logan, but he held firm to the role he’d been playing all morning.

“My friend,” Charles began, his voice smooth and measured, “I think it’s time we discuss this little… performance of yours and E’s.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his expression hardening with practiced defiance. “If you’re about to tell me to cut it out—”

“Quite the contrary,” Charles interjected, his lips curling into the faintest smile. “You and E are charming idiots, both of you. In fact, I’d say your commitment is remarkable. The arguments are convincing. Almost too convincing.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, though the flicker of his gaze betrayed his uncertainty. “So, you knew?” he asked, his voice low, the usual gravel edged with something lighter—caught between annoyance and relief.

Charles leaned back slightly, his expression softening with patience. “Logan, I am a telepath. Nothing escapes me in this mansion. Did you really think something as… vibrant as your exchanges with E, along with your little settlement, would go unnoticed? I suspected it from the very beginning, but the confirmation came quickly enough.”

Logan shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away, his discomfort evident as the mask slipped from his features. “If you think it’s a waste of time—”

“I think,” Charles cut in smoothly, “that it’s clever. Effective, even. E has been earning the team’s trust far faster than they would through conventional means. Their role as the so-called ‘victim’ in your dynamic has not only won them sympathy but also admiration. And your willingness to take on the role of the aggressor,” he added, his voice dipping with warmth, “speaks volumes about your character.”

Logan’s shoulders stiffened, the compliment settling awkwardly on him. He huffed, shifting his gaze to the side. “Ain’t about me, Chuck. It’s about makin’ sure they get a shot. At the whole thing.”

Charles inclined his head slightly, his smile softening further. “Even so, it takes courage to play the villain, especially when it places you under scrutiny. Your actions show a deeper understanding of what this team needs to thrive.”

Logan scoffed, the heat creeping up his neck. “Yeah, well, don’t go spreadin’ that around. Got a reputation to keep.”

Charles chuckled softly, his amusement tinged with genuine affection. “Your secret is safe with me, Logan. Just be sure to keep the balance. This arrangement, as effective as it is, can’t come at the expense of mutual respect—or your sanity.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, his usual gruffness returning as he grumbled, “We’ll manage. E’s tough—they can take it. We both can.”

Charles nodded, his gaze steady. “I trust that you will. But remember, my friend, even the best performances need the occasional intermission.”

Logan snorted, the corner of his mouth tugging up in reluctant agreement. “Noted. Thanks for not blowin’ it up. Now, if we’re done here…” He gestured vaguely toward the door, his tone laced with impatience but lacking its usual edge. “Got a class to run.”

Charles waved him off with a faint smile. “Of course, my friend. Now, if you would, make a bit of a show as you leave. It wouldn’t do for the others to think you got off easy. And try not to terrorize anyone else on your way out.”

Logan smirked faintly at that before turning away. The tension in his body had eased slightly, and he inhaled deeply, drawing the simmering anger back into his gut to slip into character. With deliberate force, he yanked the door open, letting it slam against the wall. “Got it, boss,” he called over his shoulder, his voice cutting sharply through the room.

He stormed into the hallway, his boots striking the floor in heavy, echoing thuds. His scowl was perfectly crafted—a tempest of irritation that sent students scattering like leaves in a gale. Pale faces turned away, and whispers followed him, swirling in his wake.

Before he could make it far, a door to his right creaked open. A hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising strength, and hauled him into the shadowy confines of a supply closet. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in near darkness.

“The hell—?” Logan grunted, his surprise barely surfacing before the familiar scent of spice and smoke wrapped around him. His glare softened in an instant, his lips twitching into something close to a smirk. “Eki?”

“Shh,” they whispered, amusement lacing their tone. They pressed closer, their presence steady and teasing. “You’re supposed to be in trouble, remember?”

Logan huffed, his eyes narrowing, though there wasn’t a trace of real irritation. “What’re you playin’ at?”

E leaned in, their hands trailing up his chest with slow, deliberate intent, pausing at his shoulders. The faint light slipping through the door’s edge slanted across their face, highlighting the wicked curve of their lips. “Heard you stomping out of Charles’ office like a wounded bear,” they murmured, their voice dripping with mock concern. “Thought I’d check on you.”

His brow twitched, the stubborn set of his jaw softening despite himself. “Checkin’ on me involves draggin’ me into a closet now?”

E’s smirk widened, their tone a mix of teasing and confidence. “Don’t act like you mind.”

Their movements were playful but edged with intent. They leaned closer, their breath warm against his neck as their lips hovered near his ear. The subtle press of their body against his sent a ripple of heat through him.

“Besides,” they whispered, their voice dipping lower, more intimate, “I wanted to tell you something.”

His hands moved to their hips without a second thought, his fingers settling naturally along the curve of their waist. “Yeah? What’s so damn important it can’t wait?”

E’s fingers drifted lazily over his arms, their touch light but electric. They tilted their head, their lips brushing his ear in a deliberate, measured move. “You were so hot when you yelled at me earlier,” they murmured, their voice a sultry purr. “All fire and fury… made me want to slap you again just to see what you’d do.”

Logan’s breath hitched, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his throat as his grip tightened on their hips, just enough to warn. “You’re playin’ with fire, Angel.”

E pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, their eyes glittering with mischief and challenge. They could feel his hunger feeding their own. “Am I?”

Their voice was soft but charged, every syllable a spark fanning the flames between them. The pull was undeniable, intoxicating, and he felt himself give in, just enough to let them reel him closer. Damn it—he didn’t want to fight it. Not this time.

“You’re lucky we’re in this closet,” Logan muttered, his voice dropping to a low, rough tone that sent a shiver through the confined space.

E tilted their head, their smirk softening into something warmer, almost tender. “Lucky?” they asked, their tone playful but carrying a trace of sincerity. “Or smart?”

A quiet huff of laughter escaped him, the tension in his hands loosening slightly as his grip softened on their hips. But his fingers stayed, a lingering reminder of the fire simmering beneath the surface. “Maybe both,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

The air between them grew heavy, thick with a charged anticipation neither seemed willing to shatter. Time stretched, every heartbeat amplifying the pull between them, the unspoken heat crackling like a wildfire ready to ignite, a match struck on a flint.

Then, faint footsteps drifted in from the hallway��distant, but clear enough to cut through the tension.

They both froze.

Logan recovered first, his voice steady, though the faint edge in it betrayed his reluctance. “We should get outta here before someone catches us.” Yet he didn’t pull away, didn’t move to create the distance his words suggested.

E leaned in, their lips brushing lightly against the crook of his neck. The touch was fleeting, soft as a feather, yet it left a mark he couldn’t ignore. They lingered for a moment before pulling back, their voice a low murmur. “Guess so. But next time, Howlett…”

They let the words hang for a beat, their smile teasing but layered with something deeper. “You owe me a real fight.”

Logan smirked, one corner of his mouth quirking up in that familiar, roguish way that made it impossible to tell if he was amused or intrigued. He cracked the door open, peering into the hallway. Satisfied the coast was clear, he glanced back, kissing their cheek quickly and murmuring, his voice a quiet promise, “You’ll get one.”

He stepped out into the corridor like nothing had happened, his boots striking the floor with a steady, confident rhythm. The sound echoed faintly as he disappeared down the hall.

E lingered in the closet for a moment, their smile turning satisfied as they watched him go. Something flickered in their expression—anticipation, maybe hope—as they slipped out in the opposite direction, the promise of what was to come hanging thick in the air between them.

The common room resonated softly with the chatter of Ororo, Marie, and Kitty. Seated in a cozy cluster around a small table, they were quietly planning their next trip to the mall. Kitty leaned in, her eyes sparkling as she described a sweater she had spotted online, while Ororo listened with a small, indulgent smile that softened her regal demeanor. Marie occasionally chimed in, her voice warm and lilting, adding her own thoughts about colors and styles.

A few feet from them, E sat upright on the couch in the center of the room, one leg crossed over the other, a cup of tea resting steadily on their knee. They watched the television with quiet focus, as the news anchor’s voice delivered updates about local events. There was a trace of weariness in their posture, the kind of exhaustion that settled behind the eyes and hinted at a long day spent poring over legal documents.

The moment Logan entered, the room’s tranquil atmosphere shifted. He strolled in with his usual swagger, the faint scent of cigar smoke trailing him. His flannel sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his sturdy forearms. His gaze swept the room briefly before he plopped down beside E without a word. His hand brushed their knee as he reached for the remote on the coffee table, a casual but deliberate motion that claimed space.

Click.

The news was replaced by the vibrant green of a baseball field, the roar of the crowd pouring from the speakers. A game was already in progress, the commentary animated and full of energy.

E let out an audible sigh, their lips pressing into a thin line. “Seriously?”

“Game’s on,” Logan replied casually, settling back into the couch, his feet on the coffee table, as if nothing were amiss. He didn’t even look at them, his eyes fixed on the screen, his poise relaxed but unyielding.

E’s hand shot out and snatched the remote from his grip, flicking the channel back to the news. “I was watching that.”

Logan straightened slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “Yeah? Well, now I’m watchin’ this.” He grabbed the remote again, switching it back to the game, with a decisive press on the TV clicker.

The tension between them crackled like static electricity, the air thick with unspoken challenge.

E’s jaw tightened. “Are you five? Grow up, Howlett.” With measured precision, they took the remote again and returned the television to the news. Their movements were controlled, deliberate, as though refusing to let Logan’s antics rattle them.

His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping as he leaned in. “You’ve got somethin’ to say, witch?” The word was low but sharp, cutting like a blade slipping between ribs.

Behind them, the conversation amongst the others faltered. Ororo exchanged a glance with Marie, and Kitty froze mid-laugh, her eyes darting between the two.

E didn’t rise to the bait, not at first. They simply set the clicker down on the arm of their side of the couch, their gaze fixed on Logan. “I’m trying to stay informed. Something you should try once in a while.”

Logan smirked, though there was no humor in it. “Informed, huh? That why I don’t see you in the Danger Room? Too busy stayin’ ‘informed’ to pull your weight?”

E’s expression hardened, their composure cracking slightly. “I’m not a soldier, Logan. I never signed up to be. Unlike you, I have an actual job that involves more than swinging claws or quoting history. Being a lawyer means spending hours—days, even—preparing cases, handling crises, and keeping this place from falling apart.”

“Sure,” Logan drawled, leaning back with an exaggerated shrug. “Real noble. But we’re all bustin’ our asses for this school, so what makes you so special that you can skip out on the hard work?”

E’s voice dropped, each word razor-sharp. “The work I do is just as important as your training sessions. Or do you think the contracts you sign, the legal battles I fight, and the protections I negotiate are meaningless?”

Logan chuckled darkly, the sound low and mocking. “Contracts don’t save lives when the next fight comes knockin’, sweetheart. Maybe you’re just lookin’ for excuses. It’s easier to sit on the sidelines than to get your hands dirty, huh?”

The jab landed. A flicker of hurt flashed in E’s eyes, quickly masked by steely resolve. They inhaled deeply, their voice steady but heavy with disappointment. “I thought we were on the same side, Logan.” The weight of their words hung in the air, each syllable a quiet accusation. “Guess I was wrong.”

The room’s silence was suffocating, the atmosphere unbearable.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching on his thighs, and for a moment, it seemed like he might back down. Instead, he stood abruptly, his gaze hard and unyielding. “You don’t know the first thing about loyalty.”

The words hit like a hammer, reverberating in the heavy silence that followed. Before anyone could react, Logan turned on his heel and strode out, his boots thudding against the wooden floor with each step.

E remained seated, their face unreadable save for the faint trembling of their hand as they gripped the arm of the couch. After a moment, they set their tea down with careful precision and stood, smoothing their clothes as if to steady themselves.

“Wow,” Kitty murmured, breaking the silence. “What the hell’s his problem?”

Ororo’s gaze lingered on E, sympathy softening her sharp features. “Are you okay?”

The lawyer managed a tight smile, though it didn’t reach their eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks.” Their voice was composed, but there was a brittleness to it, like glass under strain. With a measured motion, they reached for their teacup, lifting it carefully as if it provided some small anchor in the wake of the exchange. “I should…get back to work.”

Without another word, E left the room. Their posture remained straight and unwavering, but there was something fragile in their steps, as if they carried the weight of Logan’s words with them.

Behind them, Ororo, Marie, and Kitty exchanged quiet glances, their subdued chatter shifting to murmurs about Logan’s behavior. They kept their voices low, but their concern lingered in the air, tangible and unresolved, as though the room itself hadn’t quite recovered from the tension.

The Danger Room’s hum vibrated softly in the air as the team gathered, the younger members shifting with barely contained energy while the veterans stood with their usual aura of quiet confidence. Charles’s voice rang out, calm and commanding, as he outlined the day’s objective: clearing one floor of a simulated building of hostile threats and rescuing the hostage.

As usual, people paired off naturally. Scott and Jean exchanged a glance, already stepping into position together. Ororo teamed up with Kurt, offering a serene nod in his direction. Kitty, Marie, and Bobby gravitated toward each other, chatting quietly in low voices.

That left E and Logan, awkwardly standing in the cleared center of the room, where the group had split into smaller teams around them. The silence between them bristled with unspoken tension.

Scott frowned, his visor glinting under the cold light. “Are we seriously pairing them together?”

“They did well during the trial last week,” Charles reminded him, his tone firm yet patient. “Better than anyone expected. It only makes sense for them to try working together again. And perhaps channeling that aggression as a team will mend some of it. ”

Skeptical glances passed between the team members. Logan crossed his arms, his stance as rigid as stone. E stood beside him, their posture stiff and guarded, though their eyes darted toward the others, catching every raised brow and murmured whisper. At least they didn’t sense outright hostility from the rest of the group, which was a small relief amidst the tension.

Finally, Charles’s voice cut through the room with quiet authority. “Begin the simulation.” The words were directed at Hank in the command center, where Charles was now heading as the machinery of the room began to hum louder.

The walls around the X-Men and E shifted, morphing into the interior of a crumbling high-rise. The floor beneath their feet groaned ominously, and the sound of distant gunfire echoed from somewhere above.

Logan glanced at E as they moved cautiously down a simulated hallway. “We take the stairs. Blitz ‘em all the way to the hostage. End it quick.”

E raised an eyebrow. “Blitz? That’s your plan? You think we’re going up against a horde of mindless zombies, or did I miss the memo?”

Logan growled low in his throat. “Look, sweetheart, I don’t have time for your lawyer talk. You want to win, you hit hard and fast.” He punctuated his words by striking his left palm with his right fist.

E stopped mid-step, their gaze catching on the floor layout displayed on a nearby wall. They gestured toward it, a hint of strategy sparking in their tone. “Or, we could think for more than two seconds. See this?” They pointed to a narrow corridor on the map. “That’s a bottleneck—perfect for an ambush. We lure them in, control the fight, and pick them off one by one.”

“You mean drag it out,” Logan muttered.

“Ororo?” E called out over their shoulder. “What’s your take?”

The white haired woman, walking a few feet behind with Kurt, tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s a sound strategy. Fighting smart is just as important as fighting hard.”

Jean chimed in, her voice measured and calm. “Agreed. Brute force only gets you so far. For all we know, there could be fifty of them in there.”

Logan turned to Scott, silently hoping for backup, but his teammate merely folded his arms and gave him a look—a pointed one, like Logan had just suggested fighting blindfolded. Even Kurt’s tail twitched awkwardly, as though uncomfortable with Logan’s stubbornness.

“Fine,” Logan grumbled at last, his voice dripping with reluctance. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Good choice,” E quipped, already moving ahead.

Scott stepped forward, his visor glinting in the dim light as he addressed the team. “Here’s the plan. Storm and Nightcrawler, you’re on decoy duty—draw their attention toward the main corridor. Shadowcat, Rogue, and Iceman, you’re the scout team. Find the hostage and get them to safety. Jean, Wolverine, and E, you’re with me at the choke point. We’ll hold the line and clean up any stragglers.”

The group split seamlessly into their designated roles. Ororo and Kurt advanced toward the wide-open hall at the far end of the floor, preparing to lure the enemy, while Logan, E, and Jean moved into position at the narrow corridor for the ambush.

Ororo stepped into the open, her eyes faintly glowing as she summoned a swirling gale. A deafening crash echoed through the space as she hurled a metal filing cabinet into a crumbling wall, scattering debris and drawing immediate shouts from the mercenaries.

Kurt vanished with a soft bamf, reappearing behind two guards. Before they could react, he disarmed one with a sharp tail swipe and incapacitated the other with a swift punch. A third guard spun toward him, but a gust of wind sent the man’s weapon skidding out of reach.

“That’s our cue,” Ororo murmured, retreating into the shadows. Kurt followed, the sound of their retreat baiting the mercenaries into pursuit.

At the bottleneck, Logan crouched low, claws unsheathed, his muscles taut as he prepared for the enemy to funnel in. E stood to his left, chakrams glinting in the dim light as they adjusted their stance.

“Remember: controlled chaos,” E said lightly. “Try not to go feral too fast.”

“Funny,” Logan muttered, his eyes narrowing as the first wave of mercenaries rounded the corner.

Jean stood behind them, her focus locked as she created a shimmering telekinetic barrier to intercept the inevitable projectiles. The mercenaries opened fire, but their bullets froze mid-air, suspended like raindrops caught in time.

Logan surged forward, slashing through their ranks with brutal precision. E darted to his side, chakrams spinning in graceful arcs that deflected bullets and struck with unerring accuracy. A guard raised his weapon, only for one of E’s metal disks to slice through it before returning to their hand in a fluid motion.

“Not bad for a desk jockey,” Logan muttered, slicing through another mercenary with a savage sweep of his claws.

E smirked, ducking under a wild swing and planting a chakram squarely into an enemy’s knee. “Thanks, lumberjack. Didn’t know you even knew what a desk was.”

Logan snorted, sidestepping an incoming blow. “I know plenty. Like how not to overthink in a fight.”

E shot him a sharp look, flicking their chakram with a flourish that knocked a gun from another guard’s hand. “Overthink? Sorry, some of us like to use both brains and brawn. It’s called multitasking.”

“Focus!” Jean snapped, her barrier flickering briefly under the hail of bullets as she reinforced it with a concentrated burst of telekinetic energy.

“Scout team, status?” Scott’s voice crackled over the comms.

Kitty’s reply was calm but clipped. “Hostage located. Three guards in the room. Reinforcements heading this way. We can’t engage yet—too many nearby.”

“Understood,” Scott replied. “We’ll clear the path soon.”

“Yep, soon would be great,” Bobby’s voice chimed in, followed by the faint sound of ice cracking.

Scott turned his attention to Ororo and Kurt. “Decoy team, double back and draw reinforcements away from their position. Make it loud and chaotic.”

Ororo gave a nod and turned to Kurt with a playful smile. “Time for a distraction?”

He reached out, grabbing her hand with his blue-skinned one, his smile matching hers. “Let’s make it count.” They both vanished in another one of his characteristic bamfs.

The team at the bottleneck only heard the distant sounds of chaos—shouts, clangs, and the occasional explosion—as the decoy team created their diversion.

“Chaotic enough for you?” Kurt’s voice crackled over the comms.

“Nice work, keep going,” Scott instructed.

Not far from him, the fight intensified. More mercenaries poured in, Logan's large frame crowding them into chaotic clusters in the narrow corridor. One lobbed a grenade, but E reacted quickly, their chakrams spinning out and deflecting it into the wall. The explosion sent a shockwave rippling through the space, leaving E’s ears ringing but sparing the team from serious harm.

Logan growled, claws carving through the crowd with brutal precision. “They just keep comin’,” he muttered, elbowing a guard in the face before slashing another across the chest.

“Almost like they’re programmed to, huh?” E quipped, catching one of their chakrams mid-spin and flicking it toward an approaching guard.

Scott’s optic blast tore through the adjacent wall, collapsing part of the corridor and forcing the mercenaries into an even tighter cluster.

“Nice,” E muttered, resetting their chakrams on the hooks at the back of their shirt.

Logan, now drenched in sweat, glanced over his shoulder at Jean. “Think you can drop somethin’ on ‘em?”

Jean nodded, her telekinetic energy flaring as she wrenched a section of the crumbling ceiling down onto the remaining guards. Dust and debris filled the air, muffling the mercenaries’ groans as they scrambled to recover.

“All clear on our end,” Scott called into the comms. “Scout team, you’re up. Decoy team, escort them back.”

On cue, the younger team members escorted the hostage out, covered by Ororo and Kurt. Together, they retreated under the relentless flow of enemies, making their way to the staircase—the designated extraction point according to the simulation.

The high-rise dissolved back into the metallic walls of the Danger Room as the simulation halted.

“Nice work, team,” Charles’s voice echoed from the speakers above.

Logan rolled his shoulders, claws retracting with a metallic snakt. “Would’ve been faster my way.”

E wiped a bit of sweat from their brow, tossing him a dry look. “Faster, maybe. Messier, definitely.”

Logan smirked, something feral flickering in his eyes. “I’ll give you messy, sweetheart.”

Before E could retort, Logan lunged.

Gasps rippled through the team as his massive frame barreled toward the lawyer. But instead of bracing for impact, E moved.

They dodged to the side, fluid as water, sliding past his outstretched arms. Logan whirled around, but E was already behind him, darting away like a shadow slipping through cracks.

Their movements became a dance—graceful, calculated, almost mesmerizing. E sidestepped his strikes, ducked under his swipes, their bare feet gliding across the floor with uncanny ease. A faint smile tugged at their lips, their eyes alight with challenge.

Logan, by contrast, was all force and fury, each swing of his arms carrying enough power to send anyone else sprawling. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch them.

“Quit dancin’, witch,” he growled, his voice rough and strained.

“You quit swinging, old bear,” E shot back, twisting out of his grasp once more.

The onlookers watched in stunned silence. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like Logan was furious, his teeth bared and his movements unrelenting. But the subtle nuances of his posture—how his shoulders stayed loose, how his strikes never fully committed—told a different story.

And, of course, E saw everything.

Finally, Logan managed to grab them, his arms encircling their waist in a vice grip. He pressed them firmly against his chest, his breathing heavy, his pulse hammering against theirs.

From the outside, it looked like he wanted to crush them. But up close, the heat of his gaze burned with something far more intense than anger.

E’s breath hitched, and they fought to keep a smirk from curling their lips. Instead, their fingers brushed against his chest, reluctant to break the embrace, but they needed the show to keep going so they pushed him back with all their strength, slipping free of his hold.

“That’s enough!” Charles’s voice cut through the tension like a whip as he entered the room again.

Logan stepped back, his chest heaving, though the predatory gleam in his eyes didn’t fade. “Logan. E. My office. Now!”

The rest of the team stared as the two of them followed Charles’s voice toward the exit, leaving the charged silence of the Danger Room behind.

“Am I the only one who thinks that was…” Kitty began, searching for the right word.

“Terrifying?” Kurt offered.

“Hot,” Marie muttered under her breath, earning an amused eye roll from Ororo.

But no one dared say anything else.

Charles sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled as he regarded Logan and E with a calm but pointed gaze. They stood across from him, arms crossed in a near-mirror of each other, just as they had during their discussion about Logan’s contract weeks ago. However, the tension between them now was markedly less volatile than it had been back then.

“You did well today,” Charles began, his tone measured. “The training session proved that the team has accepted you, E. They trust your skills and instincts. However…”

Logan shifted his weight with a grunt, already sensing where this was headed.

“…you both need to work on mending the… tension that you’ve been projecting toward each other,” Charles continued.

E raised an eyebrow, their lips twitching with mild amusement.

Charles’s gaze flicked between them. “You’ve played this ruse of animosity so convincingly that it’s starting to unsettle the team. If they find out you’ve been misleading them, it could lead to feelings of betrayal, even resentment, and undermine all the progress you’ve worked so hard to achieve.”

“Great,” Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “So what, we’re supposed to just stop fightin’ all at once?”

“Not quite,” Charles replied with a small smile. “I suggest spacing out these little arguments. Gradually lessen the intensity. Make it appear as though you’ve come to a mutual understanding over time.”

E exchanged a look with Logan, their shared exasperation reflected in his expression. “Honestly? That sounds like the most exhausting part of this entire charade.”

“No kidding,” Logan grunted. “It’s been weeks of butting heads during the day, and I hate it.”

“You hate it?” E shot back, their voice dripping with mock incredulity. “Try being on the receiving end of your constant growling.”

“Yeah, well, you’re no picnic either, sweetheart.”

Charles raised a hand, silencing them before the exchange could escalate further. “I trust the two of you can manage for the sake of the team.”

Both of them nodded, though they shared a small, sheepish smile.

“Good. That will be all for now.”

As they walked down the hall, the guarded tension dissolved entirely now that they were alone, replaced by an easy companionship they both found natural. The faint murmur of voices drifted from the dining room, and both of them slowed instinctively, ears pricking as snippets of conversation reached them.

“I think we’ve been too hard on E,” Marie was saying, her tone tinged with guilt. “They’ve got good instincts, and they’re a damn good strategist.”

“Agreed,” Ororo added. “Their fighting style is intriguing—fluid, adaptive. We could all learn something from that approach.”

Hank’s thoughtful voice joined in. “I did some research on kalaripayattu, their preferred martial art. It’s not just excellent for coordination but also sharpens the mind. A fascinating discipline.”

“You’re all missing the bigger picture,” Scott interjected, his voice edged with frustration. “Logan’s the real problem here. He’s been acting irrationally for weeks.”

Kurt spoke next, his tone hesitant but sympathetic. “He has not left the mansion in a long time. Perhaps he is… how do you say… getting cabin fever?”

“I personally think Logan is an ass, and that’s not gonna change overnight,” Scott added, drawing a few chuckles. “It’s just his basic instincts resurfacing.”

“Or maybe it’s some kind of twisted mating ritual?” Bobby quipped. “Am I the only one who noticed how they were watching each other during that fight? I couldn’t tell if they were going to kill each other or just have sex on the floor.”

Laughter rippled through the room, and Jean’s voice was the next to cut through. “I think he’s taking it out on E because they’re both such strong personalities. And, let’s face it, they couldn’t be more opposite if they tried.”

Logan and E exchanged a glance in the hallway, a slow, knowing look passing between them. A faint smile tugged at both their lips, underlining the shared triumph. Mission accomplished.

Neither of them said a word at first as they continued walking, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished floors. As they reached the next corridor, Logan glanced around, checking to see if they were alone. Then, with a swift motion, he leaned in and pressed a brief kiss to their cheek, his voice low as he murmured, “See you later, Angel.”

The warmth of his words and the kiss lingered as he turned and strode toward his room, leaving E to stand there for a moment, their fingers brushing the spot he’d kissed. They watched him disappear around the corner before turning on their heel and heading in the opposite direction, a small, lingering smile playing on their lips.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don’t forget to follow the tags “Devilish Desires” and “xpressit writings” to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

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2kiran · 9 months ago

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18+ SUB LOGAN H. | YOU SHARE A CIG

“Mmnnh... oh fuckin’... s‘good.”

It’s late into the evening, the streetlight rays exudes into the tinted windows of the car. LOGAN’S cock is hard against your thigh, arriving to the extremity where it’s nearly agonizing. The bright, whitish beams grace his features which were contorting in pleasure. Pre-cum steadily beads from his slit, leaving a glistening trail in its wake. He’s so fucking turned on, his calloused palms holding onto your shoulders as he rocks his hips back and forth, back and forth.

His sensitive tip repeatedly rubs against your skin, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. While you, damn you, take a long tempting drag from his infamous Cohiba cigar. You take a moment to exhale the smoke towards his face, a weak scowl etched across his expression before his mouth melts into a ‘o’ shape when he thrusts forward just right. He whines, his cock throbbing with his lazy grinding.

LOGAN doesn’t quite register exactly when you placed the tobacco stick between his plush lips, feeling a bit light-headed from the smog interlacing with the prominent scent of his arousal. In reality, you did it so he can be silent. Unbeknownst to him, he grew too loud for your liking; his gruff moans rising in volume enough for you to fear it’d slip through the gaps of the doors despite no one being within earshot.

“Still holdin’ up?” Your hand drags along his scarred, thick thigh. He nods, puffing out the fog between his teeth. His legs lock around one of your own every time his tip catches on the rough material of your shirt, forcing him to bury his forehead into the crook of your neck. Tainted exhales fan against your chest while he lets out restrained whimpers, humping you a little harder.

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brainrotcharacters · 10 months ago

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That's that shit eating grin that practically screams "Harder! HARDER!" except the homoerotic subtext is a tripwire they're crash landing through

#that's that bratty sub grin #that's that power bottom grin #your honor the murderous gleam in his eye has captivated me #deadclaws #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #ryan reynolds #hugh jackman #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #let comic book characters fight as foreplay #let comic book characters WHO CAN REGENERATE/SELF HEAL fight as foreplay #god who coordinated this fight? was ryan one of them? was hugh one of them?#tell me hugh improvised that grin and needed the camera on him when he did it #tell me his competitive people pleasing theater kid ass refused to let ryan give all the fanservice

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chuutu · 3 months ago

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Million Dollar Man

old man!logan x young fem!reader

18+ NSFW

cw : age gap, pre-established relationship, pet names, needy!logan, soft dom!logan, marking, hair pulling, size kink, grinding, logan has heightened senses, sent kink, panty stealing, slight predator/prey dynamics, teasing, cunnilingus, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, cum eating/exchanging, spit kink, slight sub!logan undertones, body worship, unprotected sex, mating press, belly bulge, logan fucks you stupid, cream pie, slight ddlg (not sorry lol), daddy kink, breeding kink, aftercare ofc

wc : 2.6K

a/n : ngl I started writing this thinking of these two videos i saw (p!links under fic) because he looks exactly like Logan, but i accidentally got carried away and wrote my own thing lolz. hope you guys enjoy my first fic anyways <3 🍮

“Lo, give me a sec-c,” you try to mutter out as he holds your face in his hand, squishing your face as his hands ravish your body. “C'mon, my pretty girl,” he mutters hungrily against your stomach, kneading your plush skin.

He’ll never get over this, your soft skin against his rough, calloused hands. He considers himself extremely lucky to have a beautiful young woman like you by his side.

“Need you,” he whispers against your skin as he kisses down your stomach, pinching your skin with his teeth and sucking the skin right after leaving pretty purple bruises all over your stomach. “L-lo,” you grab his silver hair in your hands, tugging at the roots, which makes Logan groan.

Though you don’t know it, those precious little hands of yours have always driven Logan insane. Logan knew that you two had an obvious age gap, and with that came a size difference, but he'll never get used to seeing your dainty body intertwined with his.

"Mhm, beautiful." "Only mine." You hear Logan mumbling to himself as he grips onto your shorts like a starved man. You've always noticed that once Logan gets into the mood, it's hard to pry him off of you in a way you'd say it's almost like he craves you.

"Need to get rid of these useless things," Logan says as he starts to unbutton your shorts and slides them off, throwing them on the ground. "Now we're talkin'," Logan says as he's now looking down at your pretty pink panties.

"Ya like?" you say, giggling, doe eyes staring right back at Logan. You notice his expression has changed; his eyes darken, engulfed in pure lust. "You alright there, Lo?" you say as he's peering down on you; it almost makes you feel little.

Logan's mind is running a mile a minute; he can feel the strain in his jeans from his pulsating cock now hardening. Just the sight of you alone does something to him that he thought he'd never feel again at his age.

You made him feel needed, and that alone excited him. "You just know how to rile me up, don't you, princess?" He says with a low growl, his head now near your neck.

"Mmm L-lo," you let out a quiet moan as he starts sucking and nibbling on your neck, leaving noticeable dark purple bruises to let others know that you are taken care of already.

"Always so pretty for me," he mumbles as his kisses start trailing down to your collarbones, giving them a lick that makes your body shudder. "Hurry," you say, voice needy, now grinding your hips up towards his bulge to feel some sort of friction.

"Atta girl, keep goin' for me," Logan says in a gruff voice, continuing to pamper you with little pecks as you continue grinding on the rough fabric of his jeans to give you some sort of stimulation.

Logan thinks If he could, he would spend the rest of his life worshiping your body. To him, you are perfect in every way, and he wouldn't change a thing.

Continuing to pamper you in kisses once again, he trails down to your stomach, inching closer to his favorite pink panties. "Mmm, fuuck you smell sweet," Logan groans out as he inhales the scent of your arousal, which leaves a noticeable darkened damp spot on your panties.

"Already so nice and wet for me, princess," Logan says as his tongue lays flat against the wet spot, licking a stripe up to the little white bow on your panties. "I'll be taking these now." Logan's fingers hook onto your panties, pulling them off and pocketing them for later use.

"Jerk," you kick Logan's chest, giggling. Logan looked down at you like you were his prey, ready to devour you up in a split. The corners of Logan's lips quirk up as he lowers himself back down, facing your bare, sloppy, dripping cunt. She's so pretty for him, begging to be fucked. Logan grips your thighs tight, making sure to hold you in place to keep you from moving away from him.

Logan is in awe of your cunt, so beautiful and needy, always ready to take him because that's what she was taught to do—to take his cock.

Logan's pointy nose is now right against your clit as his tongue slips through your folds, licking and sucking, devouring your cunt like an animal. He is hopelessly addicted to your taste of your arousal, lapping up every inch of your cunt.

"L-lo," you pant, grabbing his scruffy grey hair and pushing his head down, grinding your pussy towards his face. Logan's nose is now rubbing right against your clit as you continue gripping into his hair. "S'good," you moan, now feeling a tight knot in your stomach.

Your hips start to falter now, trembling, and Logan knows you're about to cum. Logan raises his head up for a split second, "Cum for your old man, princess," lowering his head back down to your cunt. Sloppily lapping at your pussy like a needy pup, hungrily moaning into your cunt, which stimulates you even more.

You feel yourself tipping over the edge, legs shaking, eyes watering—the feeling of pure bliss taking over. "M'c-cumming," you cry out shakily as Logan continued to lap at your messy cunt, wanting to see if he could push you even further.

Lapping quicker and quicker, his nose still rubbing on your now swollen, puffy clit, he then takes one of his fingers and slips one inside your dripping cunt. "L-Lo!" you yelp; your thighs were now squishing Logan's face now that you were freed from his grasp.

"Come on, pretty girl, let it all out," Logan says as he resurfaces for some air, feeling a bit lightheaded from stuffing his face in your cunt, but he wouldn't have it any other way, going back down so that he can immerse himself in your arousal.

"Mmm, s'too much-h!" Your voice trembles out a choked moan as your thighs shake violently, losing grip on Logan's head. You feel something snap in you, feeling a gushing sensation releasing all over Logan's tongue. Your mouth agape, drool trickling down your chin, eyes shut tight, feeling dazed in your pleasure, you swear you could almost see stars.

"Mhm," Logan moans into your cunt as he hungrily laps up your spilled juices. His eyes roll back, tasting your arousal on his tongue; he's in pure bliss, cleaning you up with his tongue. After licking you clean, Logan takes his thick, calloused fingers out of your cunt and perches himself over you.

"S'a good girl," Logan says with a smirk, his salt-and-pepper beard drenched in your sweet arousal along with his nose and thick, calloused finger still slicked in your juices. Logan then pops his finger into his mouth, looking straight at you, sucking his finger clean. He lets out a faint moan, "Mm," "So sweet," he says with a devilish smile.

Above you, Logan admires your fucked-out expression, still coming down from your high, chest heaving and face covered in drool. Logan lowers his face to yours, softly caressing your cheek and leaving pecks on your face and licking at the drool that covered your chin.

Noticing you coming to Logan kisses you, your arousal still on his tongue; he wants you to taste yourself. The same sweet taste that Logan was addicted to, his sensitive senses making it easy for him to smell the scent of your arousal.

You always found it quite interesting how sensitive Logan's senses are, and you always took advantage of it. As Logan's tongue was prodding around your mouth, spit exchanging, his nose pressed right against your warm rosy cheeks, you lift a hand towards his ear, caressing it in your soft hands.

Logan lets out a guttural groan against your mouth, continuing to ravish the inside of your mouth, savoring every last bit of you.

He forces himself to pull away from you to let you catch your breath, but you had other plans in mind. Raising your head to his ear, you leave pecks down from the tip of his ear and playfully bite his earlobe. "Easy there, doll," Logan says in a low growl, sending shivers down your spine.

You then lick his ear, "Watcha gonna do about it, Lo?" You say playfully, in hopes of pushing him over the edge, and it definitely works. Logan's now rubbing his pre-cum-stained jeans against you to feel some sort of friction against his hard, pulsating cock.

Seeing Logan lost in pleasure was something you adored because it was the only time you've been able to see Logan relax and let himself be immersed in bliss without shame. You continue to leave kitten licks on the cusp of his ear, and his hips finally find a steady motion against yours.

"Mm, fuuck princess, you make your old man feel so good," Logan says in a low, gruff voice as his face is now in the nook of your neck. Low growls can be heard falling from his lips, letting himself go and immersing himself in you.

It doesn't take long before Logan feels himself about to release; he feels a buildup in his lower abdomen. A feeling he can only describe as warm and fuzzy, this feeling makes him feel almost lightheaded as his muscles start to contract, and he eventually releases in his jeans.

After Logan comes down from his high, he lifts up his head from your shoulder. His face heats up, feeling embarrassed, but you've always adored the look of pure pleasure on his face. You then raise your hand towards his face and cup his chin. "My handsome man, always so needy for me," you say in a teasing manner, looking into his eyes.

"How can I not be? Have you seen yourself, doll?" Logan chuckles to himself. He always finds himself getting lost in your presence; it's like momentarily he gets the chance to indulge and forget about all his problems.

Pulling his face towards yours, you give him a peck on the lips, and Logan deepens the kiss. "Hold on," you mumble, taking this as a chance to finally get rid of all the extra fabric that was between you two.

"Such a pretty girl," Logan says as he's admiring your naked body under his, your soft features and curves; it drove him wild. He could already feel his cock hardening again, pulsating against your stomach. You felt it as well, pre-cum already leaking from his reddening tip and spilling into your stomach.

Logan grabs your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders; he then aligns his girthy, angry red tip against your cunt. "Ready for your old man?" Logan says teasingly as you look up at him doe-eyed, waiting to be fucked senseless.

"S'good s-sir," you moan as Logan's girthy cock splits you open, your warm, tight cunt squeezing around him. Your walls were clenching onto his cock so tightly he'd thought that he'd cum quickly, but he was able to restrain himself in the moment as his hips found a rhythm.

"You feel so good around me, sweetheart," Logan says in a low, deep growl as your walls are clenching around him. The angle at which Logan was pounding into you allowed him to bury his cock to the hilt, making your lower stomach protrude out, showing the outline of his thick cock in your stomach.

Your belly bulge catches the attention of Logan, and he takes a hand, pressing down on your lower stomach as he increases his pace. "L-lo t'm-much," you shakily moan out. The pressure of his large hand and him pounding into your cervix have you cross-eyed and drooling.

"Atta girl, you can take it," Logan groans in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Logan's pace starts to falter; his hips start stuttering, and he can feel the same tightening in his abdomen. "Daddy's going to fill you up nice and good, princess," he says, staring into your doe eyes, lost in pleasure.

Drool running down your mouth, hair slicked onto your face with sweat, body trembling with pleasure, inaudible mumbling, and soft moans falling from your lips as Logan continues his sloppy pace.

"Come on, pretty girl, use your words," Logan says with a shaky voice. "I—inside," you cry out to Logan, bringing your hands to his chest, scratching down his finely chiseled chest adorned with salt and pepper hair that led to a happy trail, which you absolutely adored.

"Huh, princess, I didn't catch you," Logan says, removing his hand from your lower stomach and grabbing your chin, squishing your face to catch your attention, doe eyes staring up at him. "C-cum i-inside," you tell him with a fucked-out expression on your face.

With that, Logan snaps; you can feel his cock twitching inside of your velvet walls, pulsating, ready to release inside your perfect cunt. "Daddy's going to get you pregnant," Logan lets out a deep groan; his cock pulsating quicker as he feels his balls throbbing, tightening up from his release.

"C-cumming," Logan moans out. You feel his cock twitching as he cums deep inside your cunt, filling up your pretty pussy. Seeing your face engrossed in pleasure, he saw his purpose, and that was to satisfy his pretty girl.

"D-daddy's s'good," you tremble out, voice shaky, Logan's cum filling up your stomach as he pounds away, riding out his high. "C-cumming daddy" you moan out as you cream around Logan's thick cock, eyes shutting tight as your lower stomach convulses.

"My pretty girl," Logan says softly as he takes his hand up to your face and caresses the side of your cheek, leaving a small peck.

Your hips bucking up to Logan quicker as you ride out your high, his voice so sweet and gentle. He knew it drove you crazy, so he used it to his advantage, praising his good girl like she deserves for being so sweet to her old man.

Finally coming to, your eyes focus on Logan's glistening hazel eyes. "Are you alright there, princess?" Logan says playfully while rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "Mhm," you tiredly nod as Logan lowers himself, moving the both of you to face each other, cock still filling your cunt.

You notice Logan's chest heaving, bringing your hand to rest on top of his chest. "Is the old man all drained?" you say in a teasing tone as your hand moves with his chest from his deep inhales. "Keep it up," Logan says firmly with a stern look on his face, which makes you giggle.

"Let's get you all cleaned up, pretty girl." Logan stands up and scoops you up in his arms, taking you to the bathroom. He fills the tub up, dipping his hand in to check the temperature, making sure to get it just right for his sweet girl.

Logan picks you up and slowly lowers you into the warm water; he then steps in and sits right behind you, your body now plush against his chest. You lay your head on his chest, eyes heavy, listening to Logan's soothing heartbeat has you drifting off to sleep.

Logan notices your eyes shutting, so he decides to clean you up and himself up quickly to get you two to bed quickly. Once he was done cleaning you up and dressing you in one of his shirts, he picked you up and laid you in bed carefully. "Sleep well, princess." Logan kisses you on your forehead and settles in right next to you, pulling you into his arms.

Logan was always very careful with his princess, never wanting to hurt you because you are his precious treasure. The one consistent person in his life, and he treasured you for that; you are his blessing, his gift.

feel free to reblog and leave a comment <3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ old man!logan p!links ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

ʚ old man!logan pt.1 ɞ

ʚ old man!logan pt.2 ɞ

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #old man!logan #sub!logan #p!link #chuutu #fics ( = ⩊ = )

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rodolfoparras · 8 months ago

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Thinking about soft cock sucking where the point isn’t to get you off but rather because he enjoys having something in his mouth , mindlessly suckling on your tip with his eyes fluttered shut and contented hums escaping his lips, the girth of it forces his mouth to stretch wide when he sucks you down, and the slight stinging feeling that comes with it sends blood rushing down to his own cock, taking you so far to the point where your balls are snug against his chin, and he can feel every little jolt of your dick, having you feel so warm and heavy on his tongue, that little bit of weight making him feel all light headed and practically pliable in your arms, laying all snug in his mouth to the point where you can feel his throat muscles working on your cock, hips moving every once a while and leaving him loudly gagging at the thrusts before he’s back to sitting, unmoving just slobbering on your cock

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sleep-0-deprived · 8 months ago

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I literally am lovinggg your stories! Especially the yandere ones omg. I usually hate the yandere trope but yours is just so yummy. What about a yandere Logan, him being jealous over his “best friend” hanging around Scott a little too much🎀

Ambrosia (Yandere Logan x male reader) ~! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: jealous sex, gay sex, slight praising, Yandere themes dark content and gaslighting ect! Blow jobs (reader receiving) pet names, biting, mating press, Logan is a lil mean but with good intentions, anal creampies, little bit of cum eating, slight feminization, Logan obsessing over your scent, dirty talk(referring to readers hole as a cunt) <33

A/N o’m gosh! I love your page it’s designed so cute and I’m obsessed with your writing, specially Logan! I always see you in my notifs and I appreciate you’re likes sm ,I never see enough male reader posts on this man and I’m goin feral over here~ ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

It was no surprise to anyone in the x mansion that you always cling to a man like Logan, you were anywhere he was, or the other way around and some people being storm and Scott always tried to warn you how unhealthy it was for the two of you but gosh if you weren’t just a naive man.

Logan would just murmur out “they don’t know a thing doll” while his hands massage your thighs keeping you to himself all hours of the night in his bedroom and that was just fine by you after all this was normal friend behavior right?….he just cares a lot is it!

In the current weeks though, Dr. Xavier had put you on more missions with Scott and occasionally Jean, and Logan was dead set that professor X was against him thinking he was trying to pry you away from him that they were trying to steal you away. Logan would be damned if any of them got to have you, after a long day with Scott you and Jean coming back from a mission you were approached by Logan. “Can you stay with me?…I’m having nightmares again and I really don’t wanna be alone..”

His head drained down to your neck looking over at Scott with narrowed eyes as he spoke in a gruff and mighty convincing tone to you having you all wrapped around his pretty claws practically humming you and massaging your crotch through your jeans getting you to his bedroom leaving a pissed off Scott looking right at you “he never listens to me dammit! I told him he needed to start getting more independence from Logan!” He yelled over at Jean in a hushed whisper

“we can’t make him learn, they are both as codependent as eachother and in a unstable way they are like the perfect storm” Jean just shook her head and turned on her heels heading down her own hallway to her room leaving Scott taking one last glance at Logan’s bedroom door shutting behind the two of you before he himself just headed off to his own room.

“Why are you spendin s’much time with Scott these day…? Do you not like being around me anymore angel?” He’d coo to you his hand reaching between your thighs gripping your cock kissing the back of your neck making you shiver. “Mh—no it’s not that Logan- never”

you’d just whine as he undoes your belt pushing you back down onto his best and slipping his thumbs under your waits band getting your boxers off you. “Of course you wouldn’t would you doll? You’re just a sweet boy” he murmurs gently stroking your inner thighs with your uniform shirt skin tight with the leather hugging each and every plump curve of you w/s waist.

“Yeah I promise Lo, I promise—“ you can’t help but for him like a puppy chasing its owner with your cock leaking a slick mess against the black leather of your shirt driving you insane feeling torn rim rubbing all against his bed sheets, “I know you mean well darlin, think you deserve a reward?”

He lets one of his claws break the skin on his knuckle and traced up your red cockhead. His face dipping clutching at your thighs with a sense of infatuation looking up at you like some god with his chocolate eyes never leaving yours when he pressed a wet kiss against your tip removing his hand off your thigh and holding it still taking one big lick up the side of it.

“Take me more, just a little more Logan, c’mon” you instinctively buck your hips on the bed arching your back just wanting to grip his head and make him deep through you, your brows inching together and the zipper of your shirt feeling to tight with your heated circumstances leaving you unzipping and stripping for him.

“Goddamn angel! you’re like sugar on my tongue doll” suddenly you were his ambrosia, he picked up his pace and took your cock fully into his mouth deepthroating letting his tongue slip licking at your balls while you sit on the edge of the bed reaching your hand down gripping his hair tightly while me massages your thighs with his claws poking out of him like some feral dog breathing in your scent nuzzling his face into your groin making you feel his shaggy beard.

“Lo, I’m getting there- oh fck~!” Your back arches instinctively leaving your pecs pressed upwards to the trailing having rapidly as a sweat line builds up on the arch of your back. “That’s it, just let go for me I’ve got you baby”

his hands gentle up on your thighs feeling your cock start to twitch on his tongue like it was doing laps desperate to explode feeling and rating your bitter ropes shooting him in the throat while he just reaches his work worn hand down to your balls cupping them making sure he milks you good when he looks up at you.

The sensation overwhelming you losing torn grip on his head feeling your cock fall flat when his mouth leaves you bare again, “shh, you did so great angel, so fucki’n perfect it’s pitiful” Logan grumbles and gets up off his knees gripping you up softly by his standards holding York hips letting his claws leave red marks as he slides you up further on the bed with his signature smirk showing off his pretty canines.

“Need you right now Lo….i need you so bad” a broken whisper floods your mouth looking up with a pout presented on your lips when his hand reached around his neck pulling off his war tags, undoing them and reaching down putting them over your head “here, I wanna see you clutching those while I stretch that cunt out” he murmurs right in your ear and leaves you no time to think.

His hands spreading or cheeks apart spitting right in your rim watching it wink at him “you’re all wet like a sopping pussy aint’cha angel” his thumb rubbing your rim pushing it in open making you squirm but his other hand holds your hips down into the bed leaving you a mess with your cock getting hard again and weeping lonesomely between your thighs “add another” you spoke unsatisfied ranting meow already after the sensation of something inside you felt good

“Of course doll, wanna please this greedy hole” his thumb gets replaced with his index finger going in knuckle deep and curling up before he adds a second finger and scissors you with his eyes sole set on your face. “Is this better than Scot? You let all guys get their fingers inside this lil cunt?” His breath halts crossing the line of pure and utter infatuation feeling his cum flavored breath against your rim kissing it as he fingers you.

“Course not Lo! Only let you stretch and touch this..only you” your back arching holding the bed sheets feeling his fingers curling deep enough to leave you breathless when his finger pads rub that bundle of nerves, “I think you’re ready for the real thing, think you’re ready sweetheart?” His voice softens up a little seeing that fragile line of weakness you were tight lining when you laid out and splayed out for him like some pretty doll— no, His pretty doll.

“Yeah, I’m all ready I’m ready Logan” your words slur out drunk off of arousal with a pearly bead of precum rolling down your shaft looking up at Logan biding back your own tears not wanting to wake anyone else in the X-mansion when his fingers slide out of your puckered rim and his other hand slips to your hip grabbing them and pulling you backwards to him.

“It’s gonna hurt for a bit, promise I’ll go as slow as you want it baby boy..” his hands grip his belt buckle and unbuckles it pulling down his pants and throwing them somewhere in his room leaving you batting your lashes at the large bulge in his jeans protruding begging to come out as you try to calm down clutching the name tags around your neck.

“Fuck Lo- c’mon please” your voice whispering his name out like it’s your only prayer trying to get his boxers down with his thighs before he pulls them down leaving his cock standing eager and tall against his stomach with a prominent vein going up the curved side nearly having your mouth water when he spreads your thighs apart opening you up and holding your legs to the mattress letting his cock nudge and nuzzle between your cheeks while he looks down at you clutching his Wolverine tags.

“Just stay nice and quiet, don’t want Jean to hear you moaning…not yet alt least” he hums starting to nudge his tip inside past the gummy rim of muscles watching how it stretches, how the light in your eyes go glossy, how your pupils go wide like a cat when he stretches you—he’s already about to come just from that stupid little look on your face, oh the things you do to him.

His head droops down like a hound shoving his face in your crook holding you down to the mattress with your thighs gripped and wide apart slowly bottoming out into you “dammit doll, it’s like she’s purrin, does this little cunt like getting stretched?”

He groans biting your Adam apple pinching the skin between his canines stripping you of little gasps while he stays mounted on you leaving your cock sandwiched between his hair covered abdomen while the head board creaks when he pulls out a little and shallowly slams back inside you making your hole go wide burning from the sensation leaving your hands shaking clutching onto his tags hanging on your neck like they were prayer beads.

“Right there Lo, c’mon little more oh!” Your jaw slacking up under him going wide eyed when his cock drags along your inner walls pulling nearly all the way out to his tip and shoving back inside leaving you out of breath. “Shh, stay quiet baby doll, doin so good so far- don’t wanna have Scott seeing you like this”

his voice comes out like a choked growl letting his claws come out a little again shredding his own bed sheets while he buried his face further into your neck nibbling and sucking on the bite marks taking in deep whiffs of your scent making you swear his cock was pulsing every time he took a breath in,

“Smells so good baby, such a sweet doll” his hips start circling around and shoving forwards between your thighs letting his spit make for lube with your cock stuck against your belly button covered in Logan’s saliva while you reach your free hand to the back of his hair letting his beard leave red marks on your s/c skin.

“Lo-gan t’much, can’t take it Lo” your voice strangely from your lips letting your eyes gloss over and roll back when his cock head presses bullying your prostate making your rim feel like fire around his cock when he stretches you over and over bordering a painful pleasure. “Don’t say that angel, my pretty boy can take it all can’t he?” His voice speaks pressing sloppy wet kisses against your neck watching your face and how your fingers trembled to clutch his tags.

“I’m tryin Lo, I really am~!” You squeak your feeling your thighs go numb from being gripped tight and shoved to the bed not feeling his thrusts let up once. Logan’s hips start to stutter a little leaving you feeling his cock piercing you and keeping you spread as he slips his hands further up your legs moving from your inner thighs moving under your knees and shoving them to your chest allowing him to reach a deeper angle inside you.

“I know you’re tryin, doing so fucking well, just lay there and spread wide f’or me darlin” he grunts letting you feel how rigid his breath is dampening his beard with his drool licking up your neck mounting you hard leaving you beneath him feeling his body weight with a small huff removing one hand off your legs keeping his left hand under your knees holding them to your chest before he reaches around and gives your cock a firm grasp at the base making you arch.

“Oh~ I’m close Lo- I’m— gon’Ah” your voice cracks in half breaking into shards when your glossy eyes finally spill over with tears of pleasure leaving your ears ringing clamping and twitching around his cock feeling your base shudder under the rough hand cumming all over your own thighs and chest laying fucked out “look at’cha squirting all over yourself angel”

he heaves making your feel every buck and jerk of his hips with his mouth slipping upwards biting at your bottom lobe fucking you into the headboard.“Where do you want it sweetheart? Want it in your tummy or that pretty little mouth of yours hm?..or maybe all over them pouty lips” Logan whispers in your ear leaving his hot breath cooling the drool on your neck making it harder to speak just letting go of his hair trying to point at your belly trying to urge him inside.

“Nuh-uh baby doll, good boys use their words don’t they” he mocks you a little letting go of your softening cock to grip your hip with one hand and holding your right knee up to your chest letting your other leg hoop around his hip and bring him closer. “I wan’it inside me Lo- please inside”

you plead over and over going breathless when you finally feel the pudgy cock head pulling against your prostate letting you know what came next, white streams spewing all through your body making your feel like a little furnace under him while his grip loosens and his muscles tense up holding you steady looking up at you kissing away the tears on your cheeks growing more and more insane over you, enjoying how your skin held its afterglow and how your curves felt beneath him.

“There, there baby, don’t cry, lemme hold you…not letting you go [name] I’m never gonna” your heart skipped at those words never understanding he really meant them, only thinking he was trying to be all sweet to you when his hands leave your body letting his claws pull out of the mattress they were buried in as he crawls from between your thighs pulling out nice and slow with a slick pop.

“Logan” you wanted to tell him you needed more and you really would’ve if the feeling of his chin on your shoulder blade and the arm snaking around your waist from behind didn’t shut you up. “I know sweetheart” the only words that left his lips as he pressed a kiss to Your sensitive skin leaving the air field with a mutual understanding lingering in the air while he holds a you like he’s about to have you ripped away, his embrace tight and firm but holding a world of comfort to your used up body.

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darnell-la · 9 months ago

Note

Logan smut w/ a partner playing “hard to get”

Like pretending not to be in the mood as if she isn’t soaking wet for him

note: needy Logan Howlett y’all… Can’t get enough of him!

———

“C’mere, bub,” Logan spoke into y/n’s neck as he pulled her closer to him. Y/n groaned under her breath, softly elbowing his chest as she kept moving her ass up against his crotch.

“Baby, stop that,” Logan giggled in her neck as he grabbed her waist tightly, making her hips move how he wanted them to. “Got me so hard, I can’t even go to sleep,” Logan whispered.

“Logan, not right now. Tryna sleep,” y/n whined, keeping her eyes closed as his clothes cock rubbed on her ass cheek. Wearing a thing to bed was a routine when she wanted to tease him.

“C’mon, baby, don’t be like that tonight. I’m hurtin,” he admitted, feeling his cock harder with a leaky tip. She’s been moving around in bed for the last ten minutes, and though she does this a lot, he always thinks it’s not on purpose.

“I’m tired, Logan,” Y/n said as she stopped moving her hips. “Okay, okay, baby,” Logan felt let down, but stayed spooning her, hoping the list that built would go away over time.

After lying for maybe thirty minutes, he couldn’t help himself. It’s been too long, and he felt a bit of pain. He needed to at least stick it in.

Logan slowly and quietly pulled Y/n’s thong to the side, lifting his head up to make sure she was still asleep, and she was. So he thought.

The man grabbed his cock and shifted in bed until his tip lined up either heat. The man let out a slow groan, feeling better steady, but he needed more.

Logan pushed through the tight folds, struggled since her legs were closed, but made it through. “Fuck,” the man let out as he began moving his hips.

“Oh my his, Logan!” Y/n faked being upset as one hand gripped her waist and the other stroked the top of her head. “Ssh, baby — Just quick. Already gif me so close,” the man whispered as she pushed at his stomach.

“I said I was tired, Logan,” y/n said, barely using her strength. She always felt good when he slipped into her in the middle of the night. Her cunt would clench him in an instant.

“Baby, you know I can’t resist it. So fuckin’ tight and wet. I can smell you. Every night I fuckin’ smell your sweet juice,” the man spoke in her neck before giving her sloppy kisses.

Logan used the hand on her waist to pull her into his thrusts, causing small claps to come from under the covers.

“C’mon, just give me one, baby. One little orgasm and I’ll be done,” the man said, knowing his girl doesn’t like to wet the sheets. He’ll rub a dry one out of her.

“Spread 'em, baby,” Logan’s hand traveled down to her heat, trying to squeeze through her thighs. “I’m tired,” y/n tried saying without a whine, but failed. He felt amazing.

“Baby, open your legs,” Logan said in a more demanding tone. He loves his girl, but what he says goes, and right now, she isn’t listening.

“Mm mhm,” y/n shook her head, wanting him to take her organs from her. “Fuckin’ hell,” the man cussed as he parted her leg by himself and began rubbing at her bud harshly.

“Don’t know if it’s because you’re half in your sleep, but you fuckin’ listen when I tell you something, bub,” Logan said, now tugging on her hair he was just stroking.

“If I wanna fill this cunt before I sleep, ima fill it, do you understand?” The man asked her, making her nod quickly as her cunt throbbed. She could. It never lasted long once Logan handled her like this.

“Ah huh — Wanna listen now because you feel good? Flickin’ your bean so good, you can barely speak?” Logan asked as he looked over her head, seeing her eyes roll.

“Yeah, I know, baby. So fuckin’ good,” Logan snapped his hips, feeling her legs finally stiffen under his. “Let go, baby. Flutter around my cock. Need a feel you squeeze the cum outta me,”

Y/n’s let out a broken whine, finally cumming with a shake. “That’s it, that’s it,” Logan repeated, fucking her harder to chance after his own climax.

“Keep it up! Keep fuckin’ squeezing me!” The man demanded as his cock twitched. “Fuck, yes, baby,” the man cussed into her neck as he spilled in her.

Logan’s hands traveled to her stomach, gripping it tightly to pull her into him. He wanted to make sure he came deep. Every time they fucked, he wanted it deep.

After a good minute of Logan growling and telling Y/n how good she was for him, he pulled out and pulled her panties back in place.

Y/n slowly turned around, sore and filled. She placed her hand on the man’s chest and gave him a long passionate kiss.

“You’re so needy, Logan,” y/n giggled, making him let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah, I just- I just need you a lot. You’re so good to me, y/n,” Logan said as his hand rested on her cheek, rubbing her skin.

“You’re better to me,” she smiled, making him shake his head slightly before going into how much better she is to him, and how he needs her to love his own life. All while rubbing her body, taking in every inch of her that is his. He was a lucky man.

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jay-wasstuff · 10 months ago

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So no one was going to tell me Logan calls Wade daddy instead of bub/ba in the spanish dub?

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tourturestarradio · 10 months ago

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𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀

“𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞! 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Prompt: Deadpool x kind reader x Wolverine

Warnings: sexual jokes, jealous Logan, jealous Wade, suggestive

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

You woke up to a knock at your door slowly getting up you peeked out your peep hole seeing Wade also looking through your peep hole.

Opening the door Wade greeted you hugging you tightly “honey bun! My favorite sweetheart! My amazing baker! Love of my-“ you blinked in confusion “um Wade” you called out, he looked down at you “yes?” “Could you not shout please” Wade nodded “right I forgot it is pretty early”

You walked over to your couch plopping down as Wade went to your kitchen “hey Honey bun!” He called out, “yes?” You hummed clicking on your tv “do you think you could help me with something!” He walked back into the living room “yeah…yeah sure” you yawned, Wade sat down beside you wrapping his arms around your torso pulling you into his lap.

“So…you’re a baker right?” You glanced at him a chuckle leaving your mouth “yes I am” he nodded playing with one of your hands as your other one flicked through different channels.

“So I was scrolling on the internet trying to blow one off when I saw this great absolutely beautiful cake idea….and I was wondering if you could make it for me?” You nodded “sure what is it?” You asked looking at him “cinnamon roll cookies.” You stared at him trying to make sure you heard him correctly “what?” He shook your shoulders “please Honey bun! It’s would be great!” You grabbed his wrists “alright…”

Getting up you looked down at him “when do you need it?” He grew excited “yay! Okay, um by tomorrow ” “Wade!” You whined, he grabbed your shoulders “first, don’t whine my name like that it’ll turn me on, second pleaseeeee! It’ll be great!” He rested his chin on the top of your head poking where your nipples would be “I miss your eating your desert….that could mean two things” You grew flustered swatting away his hand.

“F…Fine but I’ll need to go to the store first” you hummed, Wade gave you a cheesy smile “thanks honey bun bye now!” He hurried out of your apartment as You sighed.

Waving bye to him you yawned “Alright bye Wade, if you want you can help out and tell Logan I said hi!” He shut the door leaving you alone, you started to get dressed for the day.

Leaving your apartment you went off to the store.

Your eyes scanned the shelves trying to find the right ingredients you only need two more things why were they so hard to find?! You felt a light tap on your shoulder turning around you spotted a taller male with black hair he was kinda handsome “am I in your way? I’m sorry” the male shook his head “no but were you muttering about brown sugar?” He asked.

You gulped embarrassed that you were muttering to yourself in public “oh um yeah I can’t find that or cinnamon for some reason?” You frowned, the male looked in his basket “if you want you can take mines” he offered a friendly smile on his face.

You shook your head “no, no it’s alright” he handed the brown sugar to you “no it’s fine you can take it” he stated you grabbed the bag “you sure?” He chuckled and nodded “yeah I’m sure you probably need it more than me” he reassured, a smile graced your face “thanks you’re a real life saver” He waved you off “oh stop just trying to help, I’m Jackie by the way” you placed the sugar in the cart “I’m Y/n” you replied.

You both made friendly conversation a few laughs being shared between you too “so what are you making these for?” He asked, you placed the cinnamon in your cart “making cinnamon roll cookies for a friend he has a sweet tooth” the male seemed to make a face at the word ‘he’ leaving your mouth.

But he ignored that and nodded “sounds delicious, reminds me of the cinnamon rolls I had at this cafe a while ago” he stated, you glanced at him “oh what cafe” he thought for a moment “(cafe name) they have really good desserts” you perked up at the mention of your cafe “that’s my Cafe!” He laughed “you’re lying” you shook your head “nope just opened it a month ago glad you like my stuff” you smiled nudging him with your elbow.

He blushed lightly, you bought your things “hey um you need help carrying that?” He asked you nodded “yes that would be nice thanks” he carried your bags luckily the apartment wasn’t far from the store.

He helped you bring your things up to your apartment “alright thanks Jackie hope to meet you again” you stated placing your things inside “wait um Y/n…” you looked back at him “would you wanna grab a drink later maybe around 9 maybe 9:30?” He asked.

You blinked “oh I don’t know I gotta start working on these-“ “please it’ll be great I promise” he hummed, you thought for a moment “alright that’s if I can get these finished before then” he nodded a smile growing on his face “wanna trade numbers?” You nodded pulled out your phone.

“Okay bye Jackie” you gave him a side hug shutting your door, he walked away a grin plastered on his face. You sighed “okay let’s get started.”

You wiped the sweat from your forehead as you carefully wrapped the cookies checking the time you saw it was close to 9 o’clock. “Oh no” quickly you pulled off your clothes to go freshen up.

You slid on your party dress it was a dark red and backless, you hadn’t worn it in a while so it was a little smaller the end of the dress just making right below your ass.

You put on some jewelry and styled your hair, sliding on your kitten heels you grabbed the tray of cookies and your purse. Going over to Wades apartment you knocked lightly on the door, it opened revealing an annoyed looking Logan.

His eyes went wide seeing you “Y/n uh what…what are you-“ “hi Logan! can you give these to Wade I gotta go” you hummed texting Jackie Logan stared at you.

You were already hot enough seeing you in that outfit really made him feel a little hot “where are you headed?” He asked, what did you need to be this dressed up for you were already sexy as is?

You glanced up from your phone “hm? Oh I’m going on a date” Logan felt a harsh jab in his chest “…a…date?” He questioned, you nodded “yes so can you give these to Wade please-“ “peanut who are you talking with- oh my ragging boner, Honey bun?!” Wade shoved Logan aside “you got all dressed up just for me” he placed his hand on his heart “that’s so cute but that’s gonna be off in a matter of seconds” he said taking the tray of cookies.

You shook your head “oh no um I’m going on a date” you explained, Wade froze “I’m sorry what?” He looked confused “I’m going on a date but tell me how the cookies taste bye see you in a bit.”

Wade stopped you “wait, wait, wait, you’re going on a date?” You nodded your head slowly “yep so I have to go-“ Wade frowned “but we were supposed to hang out…” he sounded so heartbroken, felt that way to.

You sighed “I’ll be back in a bit we’re just getting drinks” you explained, Wade waved you off “no, no go be with your Prince Charming that’s more important than me, than us!” He pouts grabbing Logan’s arms who quickly swatted away his hand.

You frowned “it’s not like that Wade” You looked at Logan for help but he also looked hurt, Wade flopped down on the couch like a deflated balloon Huffing you walked in “fine. I’ll stay.”

Wade shot up hugging you “great! I knew you wouldn’t leave us for that incel loser!” You rolled your eyes “I feel bad for just bailing on him, he was pretty sweet” Logan rested his hands on your hips coming up behind you “trust me sweetheart I can treat you much better than him” Wade corrected “we can” You gulped feeling the heated tension rise.

You tilted your head “really?” Wade’s eyes were trained on your lips “really.” Logan’s hands traveled up and down your sides “then show me?” You hummed Wade smirked “challenge excepted.” He hummed.

Jackie called your number again but still it went straight to voicemail “fucking bitch…pick up the phone.” Just as he requested you answered only it was you it was a males voice “sorry Y/n can’t come to the phone right now she’s a little occupied at the moment but leave a message!” Jackie opened his mouth to speak when he heard moans in the background of the call.

“Ha…Harder Logan! Please, pl…please! Fill me up” Right before he hung up he heard the other voice speak “hey save some for me! Sorry Jackie’s but she’s taken already- Beep!” The phone shut off leaving Jackie stunned.

He threw his phone “fucking two timing whore!”

Logan glanced over “was that him?” Wade laughed “yep” Logan petted your hair “could have let her answer” he joked, Wade shook his head “hey you know it’s rude to talk with your mouth full!”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: IM OBSESSED WITH X MEN AND DEADPOOL RN RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGHHHH

#sub reader #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool #deadpool x reader #wade wilson #logan howlett #wade wilson x reader #james logan howlett #x men #marvel x reader #sub female #fem reader

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x-press-it · 7 months ago

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Devilish Desires - 2/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 2/8

Word Count: 5.1K / 60K+ for now

The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, thick and rich. Logan leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his usual black drink steaming beside him. This was his morning ritual—his quiet moment before the mansion came to life. It was the one part of the day he could claim as his own, a sliver of peace amid the chaos.

Then he heard her before he saw her. The soft click of polished shoes on the tile floor, a subtle shift in the air, and a scent that was both unfamiliar and intoxicating. It unsettled him, that scent—it reminded him of something dangerous, something he couldn’t quite place, out of time, ethereal.

E stepped into the kitchen, moving with that effortless grace that always put Logan on edge. Their sharp blue eyes scanned the room before they approached the coffee pot, casual, composed, like they belonged in every space they entered.

Logan’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that got under his skin. Maybe it was how she moved, like a predator—silent, sure, and entirely aware of her surroundings. Or maybe it was the way she didn’t acknowledge him with the same apprehension or deference others showed. No fear, no caution. Just… presence.

They poured their coffee—black, just like his—and took a long sip, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of their lips as they leaned against the counter opposite him. The air between them thickened. For a second, their eyes met, and Logan felt the weight of her gaze, heavy and searching, like she was peeling back his layers one by one.

He grunted, turning his attention back to his mug, refusing to acknowledge the sudden prickle of heat crawling up his neck. But E didn’t need him to say anything. They felt it—the way his focus shifted, however briefly—and they drank it in. It was like fuel to them, feeding something deep inside, something dark and hungry.

“You always this quiet in the mornings?” E finally broke the silence, their voice smooth, too smooth, like they were toying with him, testing boundaries he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

Logan’s grip on his mug tightened. He didn’t like how she talked, like she knew something he didn’t, like this was a game and she already had the upper hand. “When I got nothin’ to say,” he muttered, keeping his eyes trained on the dark liquid in front of him.

E made a soft sound, almost a hum, taking another sip of their coffee. Their eyes never left him, as if they were studying him, waiting for something. “Strange. You strike me as someone with plenty on their mind.”

Logan’s gaze flicked up, his eyes meeting hers for a moment longer than he intended. She was watching him with an intensity that made the back of his neck tingle, amusement dancing in those bright, unflinching blue eyes. “You don’t know me,” he muttered.

“Don’t I?” E’s voice dipped lower, almost a whisper, but it carried the weight of something deeper, something more dangerous. They set their cup down, the movement deliberate, controlled, before stepping closer. Too close. Logan’s muscles tensed instinctively, his body coiled, ready, but for some reason, he didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

“You don’t like people seeing through you, do you, Mr Howlett?” Their voice was soft now, yet sharp enough to cut through the thick air between them. “It makes you uncomfortable.”

His brows furrowed, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as an old, familiar defense mechanism kicked in. “I don’t care what you think you see,” he growled, his voice gravelly, rough.

But E’s smirk widened, a flicker of something wicked glinting in their eyes. “Oh, but I do see plenty and it’s fascinating, really.” They leaned in even more, their voice a low purr, words wrapping around him like a net. “The way you try so hard to keep that mask up. Makes me wonder… what happens when it finally slips?”

Logan swallowed, his pulse quickening despite his best efforts to stay calm. He didn’t like this feeling—being out of control, the way she so easily slipped under his skin and played with his instincts. But damn if he wasn’t drawn in, hooked by something primal, something he hated to admit.

E’s eyes flicked over him, slowly, deliberately, as though they were savoring the conflict bubbling beneath his surface. “Don’t worry,” they whispered, leaning in closer, their breath warm against his ear. “I won’t bite. Not yet, anyway.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, every muscle in his body taut, every instinct telling him to move, to get away. But he stayed rooted to the spot, caught in whatever spell she’d cast over him. His breath hitched—barely noticeable, but E caught it. Of course they did. Their smirk deepened, a silent acknowledgment of their victory.

And just like that, they pulled back, their composure perfectly intact, as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than idle conversation. They picked up their coffee cup, taking one long sip, their eyes never leaving his.

“See you around, Logan,” they said, voice lilting with amusement as they turned to leave the kitchen.

Logan stood there, fists clenched, heat still simmering beneath his skin. He watched her go, tension radiating through his body as he tried to shake off the lingering effects of her presence. But he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over. He was in deeper than he wanted to be—and he wasn’t sure if he could get out.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm golden rays over the garden, and for a moment, it almost felt peaceful. Logan jogged down the stone path, his muscles loose from the run, sweat clinging to his skin. The garden wasn’t a place he came often—too many damn flowers. But here, in this quiet stretch of the grounds, he could think. Or rather, try not to think. Fewer people, fewer distractions.

His boots hit the stone in a steady rhythm, the soft whisper of the breeze the only other sound. The air was fresh, almost cool, and he welcomed the solitude. For days now, he’d been trying to shake this nagging tension that had settled between his shoulder blades. It gnawed at him, an itch he couldn’t scratch, a restlessness that no amount of running seemed to ease.

As he rounded a corner, his steps faltered. She was there.

Sitting on one of the wrought iron benches, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, a thick leather-bound book resting on her lap. The sun kissed her deep, radiant skin, glinting off the small obsidian bumps above her hairline, and for a moment, it seemed as if the light itself was drawn to her. Logan’s breath hitched—just for a second, but enough for her to notice. His senses sharpened, every instinct firing off in a way he couldn’t quite control, as if she was a predator waiting, calculating, and he’d just stepped into her line of sight.

She didn’t look up. But he knew she felt him. The air shifted around her, just the faintest change in posture. It was subtle, deliberate—the kind of thing he’d notice in the heat of a hunt. Her fingers turned the page slowly, like she wasn’t in a hurry. Like she had all the time in the world. Like she knew he was watching.

Logan gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep moving. His boots thudded against the ground louder now, as if the noise could drown out the unsettling quiet that coiled between them. He wouldn’t get drawn in again. Not today.

But as he passed, they tilted their head just enough to catch him in their peripheral vision. It was barely a glance, but it hit like a shot of whiskey straight to his gut. A shiver crawled down his spine, one he tried and failed to ignore. Against his better judgment, he glanced back. A mistake.

Their eyes met his, sharp and knowing. They didn’t smile—they didn’t need to. A flicker of something—satisfaction? amusement?—crossed their face, gone as quickly as it appeared. But it was enough to make Logan’s pulse quicken, enough to unsettle him.

“You always in a hurry, Logan?” Their voice slid into the air between them, smooth and teasing, like they already knew the answer. Their eyes had returned to the book, fingers trailing over the page, as though this conversation was just a casual aside to whatever had their attention.

Logan’s jaw clenched. He kept moving, even as something in his guts told him to stop. To engage. “Just trying to get some air,” he muttered, not slowing his stride, not letting her pull him in.

“Air, huh?” Their voice held that same amused lilt, like they were playing a game only they knew the rules to. “Funny, considering how tense you look.”

Damn it.

Logan stopped. He couldn’t help it. His muscles tightened under his skin, irritation flaring hot in his chest. He should’ve kept going, should’ve ignored her like he’d been trying to do since they first crossed paths. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way she prodded at him—casually, confidently—that made it impossible to walk away.

He turned slowly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What’s your point?”

Their eyes finally lifted from the book, locking onto his with an intensity that made his skin prickle. And there it was again—that hum in the air, electric, thick with something unsaid. Their gaze wasn’t just piercing; it was probing, searching for the crack in his defenses.

“My point…” they said softly, closing the book with a soft thud and setting it aside. They stood with deliberate ease, every movement slow, unhurried, as if they knew exactly how much space to take, how close to get without pushing too far. “…is that you seem restless. Distracted, even.”

Logan snorted, crossing his arms over his chest like it could shield him from whatever she was about to say next. “You think too much, sweetheart.” The nickname came out sharp, deliberate, as if he were using it to keep her at arm's length, a verbal wall meant to keep her at bay.

But they ignored it and took a step forward instead, their smile small but dangerous. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re the one thinking too much.”

Another step, and Logan could feel the heat of her presence, the air between them charged with something he hated to admit was getting under his skin. She stopped just shy of invading his personal space, but close enough that the tension between them was palpable, a tight wire stretched too thin.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Their voice dropped lower, softer, like a secret meant only for him. “That tension… the way the air shifts when we’re in the same space.”

Logan swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He hated how right she was. Hated how much he noticed her, how much his body reacted without his permission, as if some primal part of him recognized the threat—and the allure—she posed.

“I don’t feel anything,” he growled, the words rougher than he intended, betraying the lie he was trying to sell. He knew it. Hell, she knew it too.

Their lips curved into a knowing smile, slow and deliberate. “You’re lying.”

They didn’t need to step closer. Didn’t need to touch him. Just the way they said it, with that quiet confidence, made Logan’s blood simmer. His fists clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body coiled tight, ready to spring—but he couldn’t move. Not yet.

“Maybe one day,” they murmured, their voice dropping to a purr, “you’ll stop fighting it.” Their eyes never left his, watching, waiting for that crack in his armor, for the moment when he’d let something slip. And damn it, they were close. Too close.

Logan’s heart hammered in his chest, his pulse thudding in his ears. He wanted to walk away, to tear himself free of whatever hold she had on him, but his feet wouldn’t move. His fists clenched tighter, knuckles white.

“Don’t talk like you know me,” he muttered through gritted teeth, almost a growl.

Their smirk widened, just enough to send another shiver down his spine. “Oh, Logan,” they whispered, their tone dripping with something dark and sweet. “I know you better than you’d like to think.”

With that, they turned, their movements as smooth and deliberate as ever, leaving Logan standing there, chest tight, blood pounding, the weight of their presence lingering in the air like smoke after a fire.

He stood frozen, his breath coming in ragged pulls, his body still tense with that simmering heat they’d left behind. It took every ounce of willpower to shake off the feeling, to force himself to move again. But as he walked, the itch—the pull—they’d left behind only grew stronger, gnawing at him with every step.

And deep down, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

The sound of fists pounding against the heavy bag filled the gym, echoing off the walls, mingling with Logan’s low grunts as each strike landed. Sweat trickled down his back, soaking through his shirt, but he welcomed the burn in his muscles. It was another way to keep his head clear—pushing his body until he couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything but the raw force of each hit.

He shifted his stance, throwing another punch, harder this time, letting out a sharp breath. Just as he pulled back for another strike, the gym doors opened, drawing his eye.

There she was again.

Logan’s fists slowed, his attention shifting against his will as she walked in, crossing the room with purpose until she stopped at the bench press. He kept throwing punches at the bag, though his rhythm faltered. She eased under the bar, wrapping her hands around it before lifting a weight that would make most people hesitate, her body moving with a sleek, powerful grace that tugged at something deep in his chest. The bar rose and fell smoothly, muscles straining under her skin but never faltering, her breathing steady and focused.

He wasn’t easily impressed, but there was something about the way she moved—so precise, so damn effortless—that made him pause.

For a moment, he just watched, his brow furrowing slightly. Most people in the mansion wouldn’t touch that kind of weight, but she handled it like it was nothing. A flicker of surprise ran through him. Admiration, even.

He quickly shook it off.

E finished their set, their chest rising and falling as they sat up and wiped the sweat from their brow with the back of their hand. Logan felt the pull before he even realized it, his eyes meeting hers across the gym. Her blue eyes were sharp, sparkling with an intensity that sent a jolt through him. It felt like he’d stepped into her space—invaded it—even though he’d been there first.

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he forced himself to look away, turning back to the heavy bag. He swung again, his fist connecting with more force than necessary, trying to drown out the sudden spike of heat that had crept up his neck.

But it was too late. They’d already sensed it. That brief flicker of admiration—of unspoken curiosity—it rippled through them, feeding that bottomless hunger that simmered just beneath their surface.

Logan could feel it in the air, thick and electric, as if the room itself had shrunk around them. He could sense her gaze lingering on him, watching him, but he refused to meet it. His knuckles slammed into the bag again, harder, trying to force the tension out of his body. But all it did was stoke the fire that had been building for days now, ever since they first locked eyes.

Footsteps padded softly across the gym floor, and Logan cursed under his breath. He didn’t have to look to know who it was. She was getting closer—he could feel the heat of her presence, the way it shifted the air around him, making it harder to focus.

He kept his fists flying, trying to ignore the growing need that tightened in his chest, in his gut, making it damn near impossible to keep his head straight.

“Nice form.” Her voice was smooth, that teasing, silk-like tone threading through the space between them. Close enough now that it was impossible to ignore.

Logan didn’t respond, didn’t stop. His fists continued to pound the bag, but the rhythm had faltered, his focus slipping. He could feel her just behind him, standing too close. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of her sweat, her skin, mingling with his own.

“What is it about you that makes you go quiet every time I try to talk to you?,” they continued, circling slowly, casually, as if they weren’t even trying to get under his skin—but they were. Every move they made, every word, was deliberate. And it was working.

Logan finally stopped, his fists lowering as he exhaled sharply, his chest heaving. He still didn’t turn around, but he could feel her at his back, her gaze searing into him, making the hairs on his neck stand on end.

“Not in the mood,” he growled, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Oh, I think you are.” Their voice dropped deeper, the teasing edge more pronounced now, hinting at the heat pooling in his lower stomach. They stepped closer, just a fraction, but enough for Logan to feel her body heat at his back, enough to make his muscles coil with tension. “You’ve been in the mood for days now. Haven’t you?”

Logan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Every ounce of reason urged him to move, to put some distance between them, but his feet stayed planted. His instincts—the feral part within him—wanted nothing more than to pull her closer. Damn it. Why the hell was it so hard to walk away from her?

“You’re real sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Logan bit out, finally turning to face her. His eyes were hard, but his chest felt tight with something else—something that felt like surrender, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it.

They were standing close, too close, their lips quirking into that infuriatingly confident smile. “I’m sure of what I see,” they replied, their gaze flicking briefly to his chest and shoulders, before locking back onto his eyes. “And I see a man who’s barely hanging on by a thread.”

Logan’s breath hitched, his hands flexing at his sides. “You got no idea what’s goin’ on in here,” he muttered, tapping his temple with a rough finger.

Their smile widened just a fraction, head tilting as they stepped in closer, their voice dropping to a soft, lingering murmur. “Maybe.” They paused, closing their eyes for a heartbeat before looking back at him, deep satisfaction dancing on their face, as if savoring the richest taste. “But I can feel this.” Their gaze roamed over him once more, a spark of hunger lighting up their features as their hand rose—slowly—hovering just above his lower belly, palm not quite touching but close enough to stoke the fire burning in him through his t-shirt. “That delicious tension building inside you.” The words rolled off their tongue, each one deliberate, dragging out the moment. “The want…” Their voice dropped even lower. “The need…” Tantalizing. “I know exactly what you crave, Logan.” Their eyes locked onto his, piercing and intense, the heat coiling tight in his abdomen until his breath turned shallow.

Logan swallowed hard, knuckles white, his throat suddenly dry. His pulse raced, blood pounding in his ears. He should’ve pushed her back, should’ve told her to get lost—but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when each of her words sent a shiver down his spine, not when the air between them was thick with tension, every inch of space charged with the unspoken need that he was trying—failing—to ignore.

“I don’t want anything from you,” he growled, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. Weak.

They leaned in just a little, their breath ghosting over his jaw. “Liar.”

And with that, E pulled away, their gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before turning back to the bench press. Logan stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them walk away, a noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. His fists were clenched at his side, his jaw tight, throat dry, heart hammering in his chest. Every muscle in his body was taut with the effort of holding himself together. The heat pooling low in his gut and that tension between his shoulder blades were getting worse by the second.

And he knew—damn it, he knew—they were right. He was losing control.

Logan’s boots barely made a sound as he moved through the library, the soft thud against the polished floors blending into the quiet. His intention had been simple—find Marie—but that goal dissolved the second he saw her. Seated under the warm glow of a desk lamp, she was surrounded by a stack of documents—papers, brown files—engrossed in whatever work she was doing.

The library, once expansive and peaceful, seemed to shrink in around him. Logan paused mid-step, his gaze lingering on the curve of her neck, tracing the line of her arm, down to the way her fingers moved with precision across the papers. Every gesture felt purposeful, calculated—yet there was an ease to it, a control that pulled him in.

He knew he should move. Keep walking. Find Marie and get the hell out of here.

But then E’s eyes met his. Calm, but laced with that flicker of hunger he knew too well. It twisted something deep inside him, tightening his gut, stirring up emotions he wasn’t ready to confront, stoking the fire he tried so hard to put down when he saw them. And the smirk—barely there, just a hint at the corner of their lips—felt like they’d caught him in the act, exposed something he hadn’t meant to reveal.

Logan’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his shoulders tensing as he snapped his gaze away. He turned quickly, moving deeper into the rows of shelves, needing space. Needing air.

But even as he tried to put distance between them, he couldn’t shake the feeling—the awareness that her eyes were still on him. It was like she had a direct line to whatever was churning inside him, pulling on it, drawing it out even when he was trying his damn hardest to push it down.

Behind him, E leaned back in their chair, fingers drumming lightly on the wood. That brief exchange had sent a ripple of satisfaction through them, a confirmation of something they’d suspected. Despite the tough act Logan was putting on, his resolve was breaking, little by little.

And that? That only made the game more interesting.

They returned to their papers, but they weren’t really focused. Not fully. They were waiting, ready for the next time his eyes would drift back their way, because they knew it was only a matter of time.

The kitchen was quiet, the soft hum of the fridge filling the space as Logan stepped inside, his eyes scanning the cabinets. It was late, the mansion long since settled into its usual nighttime lull, but for him, sleep still felt a long way off. He reached for an apple on the counter, rolling it between his fingers, the cool skin grounding him for a moment.

That’s when he caught it—familiar and unmistakable.

Spice wrapped in smoke.

His senses sharpened as he turned slightly, watching E glide into the room, moving around him with a deliberate ease. They flowed effortlessly, brushing against him just enough to send a jolt through his veins, lingering close as they reached for a cup from the shelf, not even looking his way. Each movement was unhurried, a silent dance that seemed to say the world outside could wait as long as they wanted it to.

Logan’s heart raced, the tension thickening in the air. He tried to focus on the apple, but his gaze kept drifting back to her. Finally, she poured steaming water over the tea leaves, the fragrant scent of jasmine lazily curling through the air, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. Their hair, still damp from a recent shower, fell in loose waves over their shoulders, glistening under the soft kitchen light, revealing the smooth, rounded tips of their obsidian horns that rose just above their hairline, looking a tiny bit longer than he remembered.

"Late-night snack?" Their voice, soft yet intimate, broke the stillness, the sound of it sending a faint shiver down his spine, already igniting the flames in him. She hadn’t even turned to look at him, but Logan knew she was aware of every move he made.

He grunted, biting into the apple with a sharp crunch. "Somethin' like that."

E stirred their tea, the metal spoon chiming softly against the mug, their attention fixed on the swirling liquid as if it held all the answers. Then they turned to face him, and their eyes met his. For a moment, Logan couldn’t look away. There was something unsettlingly perceptive in the way she watched him, as if she could see right through him, past the gruff exterior and down to the parts of himself he kept locked away. His chest tightened in response, and for just a moment, he hated it—hated how easily she could get under his skin without even trying.

"You seem restless." They took a slow sip of their tea, never breaking eye contact, their voice smooth, drawing him in like a riptide.

Logan shrugged, leaning against the counter, trying to shake off the weight of her gaze. "Got a lot on my mind."

They raised an eyebrow, a faint smile teasing the corners of their lips. "I bet you do."

The air between them thickened, heavy with tension that seemed to wrap itself around Logan, holding him in place. He could feel it—the pull she had on him, like an invisible force drawing him closer even though she hadn’t moved a muscle. It gnawed at him, that frustrating desire to pull away while feeling stuck, as if she held onto something deep inside him, a red thread connecting them, so tight she could pull at it whenever she wanted.

E set their cup down and stepped closer. It was subtle, just a shift in their stance, but Logan felt it—the warmth of her body, the way her presence seemed to fill the room. The soft, floral scent of jasmine with a hint of honey drifted between them, mingling with the heat of their closeness, and Logan’s grip on the apple tightened.

"You ever think about finding a way to… relax?" Their voice dropped, soft and teasing, the question hanging in the air like a tempting offer.

Logan narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching. He didn’t trust easily, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to start now. But the way she said it, the way those words curled around him, made him wonder if she meant every word that escaped her lips—innuendos included.

"I relax just fine," he muttered, taking another bite of the apple, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. Even he didn’t believe it.

E smiled, stepping even closer now. They leaned against the counter beside him, their fingers brushing the surface near his hand, not touching but close enough that Logan could feel the warmth radiating from her. His pulse quickened, a heat pooling low in his belly as his body betrayed him, reacting to her proximity.

"You keep playin' with fire," Logan warned, his voice rougher than usual, like he was fighting to keep himself together. But the usual edge was missing, softened by the heat building between them, the struggle to maintain his composure growing harder by the second.

Their eyes darkened, something deeper flickering beneath the surface as they held his gaze. "Maybe," they murmured, the words dripping with challenge. "Or maybe I’m just waiting to see if you’ll give in."

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Logan could feel it—the tension tightening around them, pulling him in closer, like invisible threads wrapping around his resolve, threatening to snap it in two. He knew he should walk away, retreat to the safety of distance, but once again, he stood rooted to the spot, his body betraying him at every turn. The rational part of him screamed to break the moment, to turn away and shut her out like he always tried. But another part of him, the part that felt the heat of her body and the way her gaze made his heart pound, wasn’t so sure anymore.

E stepped back just enough to let the moment unravel, lifting their cup for a slow sip, their eyes holding his, unyielding. "I’m headed to bed," they whispered, casual words wrapped in something heavier, something that lingered in the space between them like an unspoken invitation. "You should too…" Their voice trailed off, hanging in the air for a couple of heartbeats before they finished, softer, almost suggestive. "Might do you some good."

Logan’s jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white around the apple. His eyes tracked her every movement as she turned and walked away, her hips swaying in that same deliberate, confident way they always did. But this time, there was a slowness to it, a knowing in the way she left him standing there, like she was daring him to follow.

And for a split second, his body nearly obeyed. His muscles tensed, his feet itching to move, to follow her down the hallway and give in to the pull that had gnawed at him for weeks now. But then he caught himself, stunned by how close he’d come to losing control, to how easily she had him dancing in the palm of her hand, right on the edge of giving in.

Instead, his eyes followed her, glued to the way she moved, the heat in his chest simmering as desire coiled in his gut.

As they disappeared into the hallway, Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His resolve was breaking, little by little, and each time it slipped, he found himself caring less and less about stopping it.

To be continued…

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