#logan howlett

[jwtetsy]

it's mating season.

[loganismybodyguard]

Any similarity is purely coincidental (2) 😮‍💨

Cat

[xx0fuck3drott1ngthr04t0xx]

angry confused kitty

[wlwloverwrites]

winner’s choice

dividers by @/saradika

pairing: cage fighter!logan howlett x reader

warnings: virgin reader, light hair pulling, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, smut 18+

This is me elaborating on this post.

“you just won’t give up, will you?”

logan’s hard to read as he sighs his words; still, you swallow your nerves and offer yourself once more.

“just want to congratulate the winner,” you smirk as you eye the fighter enjoying a dying cigar and his third drink of the night.

hopeful eyes search for his but he simply shakes his head. his dogtags jingle a soft song as he stands, digging into his pocket as he leaves his day’s earnings on the bar counter.

“don’t forget your coat, it’s cold out,” he grunts out as he makes his way out of the bar.

you response is quick as you reach for his arm to stop him, “can’t you warm me up?”

his muscles flex in your hold, but he’s quick to shake you off with a dry laugh, “don’t even know what you’re asking for. stay warm.”

with heat growing between your thighs you leave enough money to cover your share before running out the door. almost immediately you’re hit with the cold air and an empty parking lot.

your teeth bit at your lip as you watch the wolverine land punch after punch.

mesmerized, you take in his glistening skin. you watch every flex of his muscles as he circles his opponent in the cage.

the crowd shout cheers and curses when logan takes a hard punch to the jaw, but you know he’s just getting started.

with seething teeth, the wolverine throws the last punch. his opponent loses his balance as he falls against the cage before losing consciousness.

joining the loud cheers, you celebrate his nth win.

your joyful screams are drowned with the others as gamblers empty their wallets and fill yours.

you push through the drunk crowds as you reach his corner of the cage. looking up you see a bloody fist rise an inch of whiskey to his lips.

pressing your hand against the cage, your fingers reach for his body as you shamelessly ask, “can i buy you another?”

despite the loud crowd, you can hear his scoff.

standing on the pedestal, he stands taller than ever as he stares down at you. the lights behind him hide his face, but you know he’s has the same playful smile.

“spending all your prize money on me?”

“is a drink too much?”

your eyes dip below his belt, it’s only for a second, but he catches it.

“how bout a helping hand?”

your eyes follow him as he steps out of the cage. standing in the light, you see a large bruise decorating his jaw and your fingers twitch to ease his pain.

“a hand?”

“or mouth?”

blood pumping from adrenaline travels to his cock as he looks into your eyes.

“winner’s choice,” you wink.

they are filled with lust but he sees through your act.

he sees the way your leg bounces nervously when you flirt with in at the bar.

his ears pick up on your shaky breath as you offer yourself to him once more.

testing his theory, healing knuckles brush your cheek, shocking you both. you swear, his touch has your skin tingling as his hand travels to the back of your neck. he pulls you close causing you to fall onto his chest and your hands land on his bare chest to maintain your balance.

freezing under his touch, all confidence seems to vanish from your body and a smirk appears on his face. he lets his eyes fall to your parted lips and wastes no time pressing a soft kiss on them.

barely pulling away, his lips slightly brush against yours as he whispers his next words, “maybe next time.”

after that kiss, your efforts at getting your hand in his pants double.

you sit closer to him at the bar, brushing your knee against his as you sip on your drink. throughout the night you make it your mission to turn your body to face him, slotting your knee between his.

his eyes pick up the way you scoot yourself closer to him, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh.

“you’re playing a dangerous game.”

his words bring a smile to your face, “doesn’t seem like you mind.”

his eyes follow yours as you hint at his stiff cock.

the outline of his cock has your mouth watering as it fights against the dark denim. the head of his cock rests against his thigh, the tip sits closer to your knee when you scoot yourself even closer.

“i can help with that.”

the words leave your mouth before you can think of the consequences.

the battle logan fights in his head is evident, his hand stopping yours when it begin to slide up his thigh. he starts to shake his head, fails to say no, instead he whispers, “come on.”

your heart pounds with excitement as you let him pull you to the empty restroom.

with your back against the locked door, his hands cradle your neck, pulling you into a rough kiss.

your head spins when he kisses you, the kiss is nothing like your last one.

the kiss is messy. his tongue peeks out to lick your bottom lip, a silent command to let him in.

inexperienced and lost, you keep your mouth shut, instead you thread your fingers through his hair and tug.

the groan that escapes his lips has you tugging against, this time harder.

“you have no idea what you do to me.”

the confession has you pulling away, your lips shining with his spit and your eyes wide.

“really?” your eyebrows raised to your forehead, questioning if the man sporting the biggest hard on is actually attracted to you.

he only chuckles before pulling you into another kiss. his lips part, waiting for your tongue, but he’s only met with your lips once more. your lips kiss his teeth.

he should have known right then and there, it’s clear you lack experience.

embarrassment floods your veins but he pays it no mind. he mumbles a soft, “open up.”

instead of oversharing, you listen.

his lower lip slots between yours, licking your upper lip before he deepens the kiss. he slips his tongue inside and gently licks yours. he tastes like cigars and whiskey, the combination making you lightheaded.

fingers tangled in his hair fall to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, letting him take control.

the hands that cradle your face tilt your head to the right, handling you so he can suck your tongue into his mouth.

its a weird sensation, one that has you whining and pressing your body against his.

his knees pushes itself between your thighs, urging you to grind on his thigh. warm between your legs you grind harder against his thigh, desperate to ease the ache that been growing inside you for weeks.

a hand holding your face drops to your waist. sneakily, his hand slips in your butt pocket, squeezing your flesh through the denim, pushing you harder against him. it’s a playful squeeze which causes you to gasp against his mouth.

“you all talk?”

theres a smirk on his face when he pulls away. your eyes still shut, brows twisted as the pleasure begins to take over. your lips shine with the combination of spit and still waiting for his next kiss.

it takes a moment for you to recover. shaking your head ‘no’ you fall to your knees before he can mutter another teasing word.

swallowing down your nerves, you stare at the bulge in front of you. undoing his pants you’re immediately met with a trial of hair sitting above his cock. logan helps you by pushing down his jeans and suddenly your face to face with his cock.

his cock sinks from its own heavy weight, but you’re quick to catch him. wrapping a warm hand around his cock, squeezing softly.

pressing a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, humming at his salty taste. mimicking his kisses from earlier you stick out your tongue and lick, wetting his cock further, easing the tip into your warm mouth.

“that’s it,” his head tilts back, “so good.”

the praise goes straight between your thighs and you flutter your eyes closed. heavy weight of him presses onto your tongue as you slide your mouth up his cock.

curling your hand around the length your mouth can’t reach, you attempt to set a slow pace. it’s miscalculated and awkward, almost as if you’re trying to tease him.

he whispers encouraging words when you do manage to set a pace, but it’s quickly lost when you pull off to suck in a deep breath.

“can you help me?”

eyes fall to your teary ones. logan stares at your helpless look, lips swollen and shiny with your spit. his cock wet with your drool, twitches in front of your warm mouth.

he doesn’t say a word, instead he steps closer to you. losing your balance on your knees, your ass lands on your heels, before your head can hit the wall, logan squeezes his hand behind you.

trapped between the wall and his body, you have no where to go. with no room to move you’re forced to stare up at the grinning man.

“open up,” he mumbles the same orders, smearing the tip of his cock on your lips.

widening your mouth logan wastes no time slapping his cock on your tongue. he lets out a soft sigh when you wrap your lips around him, sucking around his leaking tip.

mastering what you failed to do, logan sets a steady pace, thrusting into your mouth and giving you a second to breath between every other thrust.

the hand behind your head scratches your scalp reminding you the wall is keeping you in your place. wetting his cock, you suppress a giggle when curly hairs tickle your nose.

curses fall past his lips when he hits the back of your throat, groaning when you swallow around his cock. the feeling of your throat closing has him leaning on the wall, “that’s it, so good for me.”

eager to please him you swallow again, ignoring fuzzy feeling in your head and your desperate need to breathe.

blinking the tears out of your eyes, you stare up at logan, moaning when you see him.

a broken moan escapes his lips, brows tight and furrowed in concentration. his eyes roll back, balls tightening and threatening to spill into your mouth.

he warns you.

a loud groan fills the room, but that only makes you work harder.

your nails dig into his thighs, pushing his hips close to your face. ignoring the painful ache in your jaw, the urge to pull off and get a second to breath, you watch as the man you’ve been hunting is finally falling off the edge.

“fuck.”

his thrusts stutter as he spills into your mouth. he comes down your throat and you hum at the taste. it’s interesting.

stronger than the salty taste that lingered on your lips from his teasing taps. it’s manly and a lot, making you panic to swallow everything.

he manages to regain his bearing when as he steps back, giving you space to ease the grow pain in your knees.

“you okay?”

he helps you stand with shaky knees.

with a sore jaw, you mouth a silent ‘yes’ before you clear your scratchy throat with a cough.

“was that okay?”

instead of answering, logan pulls you in for a kiss. barely giving you time to recover, he reaches down your jeans, popping the button.

your hand catches his wrist before he can go any further, “wait.”

he hums in response, trailing his lips down your neck, “what is it?”

“i’ve never done this before.”

Logan Howlett Masterlist

please reblog! comment! show some love!!!❤️

[froghatz]

This post just makes me wanna:

-cravings.

cw: feral!logan, breeding kink, pervy!logan, marking, TA/ co-workers relationship, belly bulge, oral (fem receiving), gross!logan, squirting, male masturbation, spitting, slight praise kink, slight hair tugging, pet names, slightly grinding on abs? pantie play?

summary: logan's in a rut and only his sweet girl can help him.

a/n: so i pictured dofp!logan but x trilogy!logan also works! hope you enjoy <3 also also not proof read so sorry for any errors

"scott, have you seen logan?" your delicate voice fills the study as you pass by, looking for your mentor.

logan has been missing all day, which isn't the most unusual thing but it is odd that he said he would train with you today and yet, he's nowhere to be found.

"charles said he wasn't feeling well." scott replied, barely gazing up at you. "he's probably still in bed."

you nod, turning around to head upstairs and check on logan like any good friend would.

the floorboards creek under your light foot steps down the hall. charles, hank, and storm took the kids to a lab overnight to work on their final projects. the rest of the adult were either training or lesson planning. the wooden door glowed with golden light illuminating the rim, so warm and welcoming.

one knock turned into three and four. all of them unanswered, leaving you slightly alarmed. this wasn't like logan to ignore you.

❀༉‧₊˚

meanwhile, beyond the wooden door, logan sat on his bed trying to get a grip on this feeling. it's happened before, the familiar warmth that spreads all over. a primal craving attempting to claw its way out of him.

normally, he can hide out until the rut is over but now it is different. now logan has his eyes on someone. not just someone though.

it's the girl he's been warned not to fall for. charles, jean, hank and scott have all told logan that he's not to make a move on you. the girl who's too pure for a big bad wolf like him. for once, he listened and steered clear of you, no matter how pretty you were.

until you signed up to be his teachers assistant.

now with the close proximity, logan is tortured by your scent. the sweet cherry he's become familiar with haunts his deepest thoughts. he could perfectly trace every outline on your body without even trying. honestly, he found it quite sickening how you've carved your spot in his mind.

next to him on the mattress are a pair of your panties from yesterday. he remembered seeing the slight flash of light blue from under your skirt when you dropped your pen in the hallway. there's a damp patch on them, calling his name in mocking tones.

"logan..?" your meek voice was barely audible behind the door. "can i please come in?"

a low growl hums in his chest at the sound of your voice. he wants nothing more than to let you inside and ravish you in the way he desires; but he doesn't want to scare you off.

"not now, sweetheart." he grunts almost as if he's in pain.

"a-are you okay?"

logan couldn't see you but he could picture your concerned face. scrunched eyebrows and wide bambi eyes, lips in a pout. god, he could just eat you up.

" 'm fine." his voice sounds rough, like a bark. he would never yell at you but he needed you to walk away because the feeling of his cock being suffocated in his jeans was killing him.

"alright." you whine. "see ya later then, lo."

soon enough he heard your footsteps down the hall, logan quickly strips himself of his black shirt, dark blue jeans and his boxers. without hesitation he reaches over to grab that panties he had taken from your hamper.

"fuck, smells so sweet." he groans, nose pressed against the soft soaked cotton as he tugs his throbbing cock. spreading the pearly beads of pre-cum.

with his senses clouded and a fire ignited in him, he kitten licks the patch, letting your slick dance on his tongue. picturing your legs wrapped around his head, how your tight hole would take his tongue or his fingers and the little noises that would escape you.

"that's my sweet pussy. all mine." logan mumbles possessively under his breath before spitting into the material and bringing it to his cock, using it to jerk off.

as his orgasm approaches, the fire intensifies; sweat dripping down his temples the faster his hand moves. abs also dripping in sweat as his chest rapidly moves up and down. mind swarmed with all the positions logan wants to put you in.

"s-shit." logan curses, clenching his teeth as his vision blurs and euphoria washes over him. ropes of cum spill all over his abs and happy trail, creating a sticky messy.

left alone and panting, covered in his release, logan's still unsatisfied. he knew there was only one thing that could fix this.

❀༉‧₊˚

it's near midnight when you finally hear logan leave his room. heavy boots heading towards the stairs, right by your room.

"where are you going, lo?" you ask, peaking out of your bedroom to catch him. he stops but doesn't acknowledge you. "gonna leave me here all alone?"

logan could've sworn that you would be asleep at this hour and he could leave to find some woman at the bar to help with his... situation.

"scott's around here somewhere." he dryly replies, trying to avoid your gaze.

"he left a few hours ago." you mumble, nervously messing with the bottom of your nightgown.

something was off about logan; you just couldn't figure out what it was. he wouldn't even look at you. had you done something wrong? was he upset with you? why was he avoiding you?

"i-is everything alright?" you ask, worried for the answer.

logan take a minute to respond, scratching the scruff on his face while he thinks. just because he looks strong doesn't mean he is internally. logan found his weakness in you. a woman he's known for a little over a year and yet you could bring him to his knees if you so pleased.

suddenly, logan turns and looks at you. he sucks in his breath sharply when he saw you dressed in a cute tiny white nightgown. logan was positive that you were the closest he will ever get to meeting an angel.

the material ends high up on your thighs and he swears that in this light he can see the outline of your nipples, watching how they pebble from the cool air in the hallway.

"it's just cravings." he finally answers, tearing his eyes off of your pretty shape.

the moment logan makes eye contact with you, you notice how the color changed from a light hazel to bordering black. he looked hungry. you've heard of this before, a feral state that mutants like him enter every six months or so and if you knew better, you would run.

"anything i can help you with?" you ask, batting your long lashes up at him.

"it's real dirty work, princess." logan warns, restraining himself from jumping at the opportunity.

"i don't mind." you tell him. in that moment, a familiar aroma hits him. "i wanna help you, logan."

normally, logan wouldn't let things get this far. sure, the two of you have made sly flirty comments in the past but it's never gone past just words.

he watches you walk back into your room, keeping the door open for him.

❀༉‧₊˚

your bedroom was damn near exactly how logan pictured it. soft earth toned colors, pretty sheets, messy desk with all the paperwork you two do together. most importantly, it smelled like you. not your perfume or whatever candle you lit earlier. this was different.

"logan..." your voice pulls him back to reality. "tell me what you want me to do."

so considerate. logan thinks to himself as he watches you sit with your knees against the mattress and look up at him like a dog looking at its owner, waiting for an order.

without a warning, logan crashes his lips against yours. it hot and messy how he almost swallows you whole. both of you have waited forever for this moment.

logan lays you flat on the mattress, not breaking the kiss. your teeth bite down on his bottom lip at the small thud. you go to whisper an apology but it's covered by logan's loud groaning.

he take this opportunity to grind against you, only covered in a pair of matching white panties. if he was in a clearer head space, he would've thought this was planned.

"u-uh, please." you whimper against his lips, lifting your hips a little to meet his.

it's quite cute how pathetic you look right now. struggling for more. logan latches his lips to your neck, leaving dark maroon bites behind as he moves further south.

at the waistband of your panties, logan nips at the skin on your hipbone, leaving behind a pretty mark to match the others. he craved to be closer to you. pressing his nose into the wet patch and inhaling sharply, grunting at your essence.

a loud squeal falls from your lips as you lazily try to push him away. too embarrassed by the lewd action. nonetheless, logan refuses to move until he's had enough. licking over the cotton and making out with your covered cunt.

"l-logan!" you gasp as he flips you over on your belly with your ass in the air.

the sound of the material ripping fills the room. this was better than logan could've imagined. the sight of your throbbing cunt as it cries for his attention, and only his.

"prettiest fuckin' pussy i've ever seen." he marvels under his breath. "gonna let me use it how i please, princess?"

"mhm." you nod, trying to look back at him. "it's yours, lo."

your words send him on a spiral, he sinks you down on his tongue so he can fuck you at his pace. exploring your walls and reveling in your taste. no dessert in the world could compare to you.

logan grinds against your mattress, desperately seeking relief. not that he's complaining. he's more than happy with his position; and so are you.

there will be bruises on your hips tomorrow, without a doubt because of how tightly logan's gripping your hips. keeping you right where he wants you to be.

"n-need more, please." you moan, fists balling up the sheets.

"what a greedy fuckin' baby." logan says, pulling off of a second to replace his tongue with two thick fingers, stretching you out for him.

pretty little 'uh, uh, uh's' spill from your lips every time you bounce back on logan's fingers. he's hypnotized by the way you manage to coat his finger with your slick. dripping down his palm and onto your sheets.

"look 'atcha, sweetheart." he mutters, doubtful that you can hear him over the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. "struggling to take my fingers. gotta stretch ya' for my cock. think you can take it?"

"mhm!" you answer, feeling a trail of kisses on the back of your thighs as logan speeds up his thrusts, locating your sweet spot with ease.

there's a warmth of pleasure that washes over you. it's different than anything else you've experienced. before you could even figure it out, you to gush all over logan's hand and the sheets.

"she's squeezing me so damn tight." he growls, watching as your pussy spasms from overstimulation, practically knocking the wind out of you. logan has to fight off cumming in his jeans as he licks up your release.

once logan allows you to catch your breath, you turn and say, "i've never um, never done that before."

"fuck." logan curses, smacking his palm down on your ass. "it won't be the last time tonight."

the sound of logan undoing his belt echos in the room. lining the head up to your entrance and slowly sinking into you. your eyes roll back into your head at the stretch. similar to a cat, you arch your back and purr at the feeling.

"f-feel so full." you moan as he picks up his pace.

"that's it, princess." he grunts, moving his hand down your back and wrapping it into your hair. "tell me how good it feels."

and you don't waste a single second to do so.

"you're s-so big, can feel you e-everywhere." you reply in between heavy breaths.

the hand wrapped in your hair tugs you forward so your back is against his chest. with his lips pressed against your ear, he mutters, "everywhere, huh?"

you nod, digging your nails into his thighs with each thrust. his other hand travels from your breast to your lower torso underneath the nightgown. your eyes shoot open as soon as he lightly pushes down.

"can you feel me right here?" he asks, slowing down his strokes for you to focus.

when you don't respond right away, the hand in your hair moves to your jaw, gripping it and angling your gaze down to the large bulge in your belly. you always knew logan was larger than the average man but you didn't even think this was possible.

"y-yes!" you whimper loudly, needing him to go faster.

logan's not religious by any means but in that moment, he wishes he could personally thank god for everyone being gone tonight. he can't imagine having to muffle your little moans right now while he starts pounding back into you.

"gimme kiss, please?" you whisper in between the lewd wet smacks of his heavy balls against your ass.

how could logan turn down his sweet girl? even while being ruined, you still managed to use your manners.

the two of you sloppily make out, exploring each other. he swallows all the whimpers you let out against his lips. except the one from when logan pulls back.

"what are you–?"

"open your mouth and stick out your tongue for me." logan demanded, staring down at you like a feral animal.

you obey, opening up for him like he asks. logan spits on top your tongue, feeling your tight cunt flutter around him. clenching at the taste of him.

"swallow." he says, watching you do so. "what a good girl."

"i'm so f-fucking close, lo." your head falls back against his shoulder as your vision turns white, stars behind your eye lids.

"me too." logan warns. " 'ya gonna let me fill you up, sweetheart? bet you wanna be full of me, to carry my seed? isn't that right?"

he knows you're too far gone, babbling incoherent sentences and soft pleas. the tiny, "mhm" and head nod give him the okay to cum inside you.

"s-shit!" he curses. "you're so tight, practically suffocating me, baby."

his orgasm triggers another for you, milking him until both of you are struggling for air. the room felt like the inside of a sauna and reeks of sex.

"got another one in you, pretty girl?" logan asks, slowly pulling out of you.

"y-yeah." you answer, letting him move you how he wanted.

logan slips your nightgown off of you and lays you down on your back again. this time fully taking in your form. every curve, dimple and scar. he makes sure to pay your breasts some attention, taking one in his mouth and massages the other, pinching and rolling your nipple until your whining. desperately you attempt to rub your pussy against his abs, gaining very little friction from it.

if he wasn't in this rut, he would've taken more time to appreciate this. next time he will.

you open up for him again and he slips in with ease. logan brings your thighs to your chest, folding you in half.

"harder, please." you beg, staring up at him with those wide eyes that he's a sucker for.

"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he grunts, trying to restrain himself.

"i can take it, lo." you tell him, stroking his cheek with your much smaller thumb. "i know you need it right now."

instead of answering with words, logan bends down and kisses you in a more tender way than before. as soon as he picks up his thrusts, you tug softly at his locks, making his hips stir and lose rhythm for a second.

"you like it rough, don't 'ya, princess?" he grunts in your neck while his thumb moves to rub circles on your clit. "fuck, my cum is just spilling out of you."

a tear rolls down your cheek, only further encouraging logan. licking up the salty tear before it falls off your skin. never in your life have you felt so dirty.

"please, need to feel you logan." you whimper and he knows exactly what you mean.

"don't worry, baby. i'm close." he says, feeling you flutter around him.

logan's gaze stays locked on where the two of you are connected, watching him slide in and out of you. almost drooling at the image of his cock in your stomach.

within minutes, you're soaking his cock like you did his fingers. slick landing all over logan's sculpted torso. your fingers gather some before bringing them to his lips, letting him lick them clean.

a loud animalistic growl signals his release, painting your walls again for the second time tonight.

both of you lay stuck together. neither ready to let go of each other just yet. on the floor, you notice something light blue peaking out of the back pocket of his discarded jeans.

"so that's where my panties went?" you giggle, capturing logan's attention.

"yeah..." his voice raspy and deeper than usual. "sorry 'bout that, sweetheart."

"it's okay." you reply. "but next time that you get these 'cravings', come to me and i'll help y–"

logan cuts you off on with the rock of his hips and the wet slosh of your ruined cunt. before you can even moan, he's grabbed your white panties next to you and shoves them in your mouth.

fuck, he should've come to you sooner.

– tags: @hazydespair @itsmemuffy @wolvndmouth @nightingale-slayer @melday0105 @collector-of-furby-furs @solistarrs @atomicmystery @milfsarefineashell @ohfourgotten @keerygal @shewolverinesworld @tezooks @spookysquids @llorentezete @actuallybridgetjones @planetxella @silversprings-mp3 @coocoocachewgotscrewed @lethallyprotected @laweona150 @sturnsvoid @emoevanafton @slowlikehoneyyy @ginnylupin @omnivirgo @shiv-r @buckyssugarchick @ayamenimthiriel @balariie @ssloveslogan @stabbedfawn @dxddyspup @leggomiegg0

[fungateshortcakes]

Old man Logan p☆rn links

A porn link post dedicated to old man Logan because he IS the hottest Logan and I'm ovulating so badly rn I gotta satisfy this craving somehow if I can't actually have him😔

You can find part 1 by clicking here

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

• No matter how many times you cum on his cock, old man Logan needs you to give him one more, he loves seeing you cum for him.

• The best things that come with having sex with old man Logan are the intimate, naked cuddles afterwards.

• The closer you and old man Logan get to cumming, the needier and sloppier your kisses become.

• The way you run your hands through his greying hair while you make out has shivers running down old man Logans spine (this is literally the hottest video i have ever seen guys this is getting me too horny, if I can't kiss my man like this i dont want him)

• Old man Logan is more than cabable to drive the limousine with only one hand if his needy girl sits next to him.

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

You guys loved the first part, so here is a second. I know, I may sound deprived, but WHO THE FUCK is the guy in the first few videos? Asking for a friend I need to know ASAP🙏🏻

I can't stop watching the fourth video its making my stomach do flips ya'll I wanna make out w Logan like that for hours. Why is life so unfair

Born to be old man Logans wife, forced to write fanfics about him and cry

[loganspet]

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓

𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 ♡ ૮₍ ˶′ ᵕ ‵˶ ₎ა

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 !!

. . . ─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ─── 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

. . . @loganspet

Breeding Kink

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ⋆｡˚⭑ ❝—𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! ❞ ⋆｡˚⭑

Explicit Content, Soft Dom! Logan, Sub! Reader, Mutual Pleasure, Edging, Overstimulation, Praise, Claws Come Out, Creampie, Body Worship,Implied Baby-Making,(P in V), Marriage, Handjob, Fingering, Pussydrunk

Logan filling you to the brim link 🍰 !!

Logan smelled you before he even stepped into the bedroom. Something warm and sweet, vanilla curling through the air, woven between the flicker of candle wax. It was soft—too soft for a man like him—but fuck, it was you.

And then he saw you.

Perched on the edge of the bed, wrapped up in lace and tiny pink bows.

He stopped in the doorway, boots still on, belt still half-undone from the long drive home. His body ached—not from the usual strain of old wounds and old sins, but from the simple fact that it had been too long. Too many nights of passing touches, of restless sleep, of not having the time to really hold you.

“Jesus.”

You pouted at him, shifting slightly, letting the lace cling to your curves. His favorite lace, the one that barely covered a damn thing, all sheer panels and delicate straps.

“Do ya’ like it?”

Logan’s hands flexed at his sides. His jaw ticked. Like was an understatement.

“Hun—”

“You haven’t touched me yet.”

His fingers curled into fists.

Your voice was honeyed, teasing, but there was something else under it, something softer. You knew what today was. He hadn’t mentioned it, didn’t think much of birthdays anymore. You had thought about it.

He could smell your arousal, could see the way your nipples peaked against the lace, could hear the too-steady rhythm of your breathing, waiting for him to do something. Anything.

Logan exhaled sharply and dropped onto the edge of the bed, running a hand down his face. His belt hung undone, jeans loose on his hips, Logan’s his body was tight. His hands braced against his thighs, shoulders hunched forward like he was waiting something out. A sigh, thick with exhaustion, left his lips.

Your lips parted. This was your moment.

You slid into his lap, straddling one thick thigh, your hands running up his chest, your mouth brushing against the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed this. Lo”

He inhaled sharply, his chest rising against yours.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of his neck.

“Missed you too,” he admitted, voice rough.

You felt the friction as you shifted against him, riding the denim just a little bit. His breath caught. In order to anchor you, his other hand reached up and grabbed your rib cage. You could sense the little trembling in his fingertips and the warmth of his palm. Logan put his fingers through yours, not just holding you there. Warm and strong, his wedding band felt chilly against your flesh. Slowly moving his thumb over your knuckles, he rooted himself in you and the sensation of your hand in his.

His head tipped back slightly, giving you better access. You kissed his throat again, open-mouthed, sucking gently against the thick muscle.

“Shit,” he exhaled.

And then you felt it—the moment he let go.

The moment wolffish instincts took over.

His body melted into you, broad and warm, his thighs spreading wider beneath you, giving you more space. His other hand smoothed down your side, tracing the sheer lace, his fingers brushing against the soft curve of your breast.

And then you palmed him through his boxers.

His head jerked forward, his hands gripping, his breath stuttering.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he rasped.

He didn’t stop you.

Didn’t want to stop you.

You stroked him slow, teasing, feeling the way he grew harder under your touch. His pupils were blown wide, needy, and his lips parted slightly, dragging in shaky breaths.

“Look at you,” you whispered, voice thick with affection. “My beautiful husband.”

Logan groaned low in his throat. His fingers squeezed around yours tight for a moment before releasing, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth. He kissed the back of your hand, his lips warm, his breath uneven.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’m not gonna last long, baby.”

Your smile was soft as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Then let go for me,” you whispered. “I’ve got you.”

He shuddered. His free arm wrapped around you then, pulling you in tight against his chest. His breath was ragged against your hair as his hand splayed wide across your back, holding you against him as if keeping you this close might keep him from falling apart.

It didn’t.

He gasped as he came, body shaking, his claws snikt out, tearing through the lace. His whole body tensed—then melted—his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath, low and broken. His fingers slid between your thighs.

“Oh, baby,” his breath came out ragged, his body still twitching from the aftershocks. His claws had sliced through the fabric the second he came, shredded ribbons of lace now barely clinging to your soft skin. And fuck, you smelled good. Warm. Sweet.

It was all over his hands, all over his thigh where you had rubbed against him, all over his skin where you had kissed him soft and slow while driving him insane.

His pupils were still blown wide when he moved.

“Missed you, Lo” you whimpered, voice muffled against his chest. “Missed you so much.”

His grip on you tightened.

“This what you missed, baby?”

You nodded, back arching instinctively.

Logan didn’t hesitate.

He rolled you onto your stomach, dragging you against him, pressing his weight over you, keeping you close. His chest was firm against your back, his breath warm at the shell of your ear. His free hand found yours again, lacing your fingers together above your head.

And then his mouth was on you—sharp teeth sinking into the plush curve of your ass, making you cry out.

His lips soothed over the mark immediately, warm tongue flicking against sensitive skin before he bit again, this time at the dip of your hip, dragging another whimper from your throat.

“Fuck, my darlin wife,” he muttered against your skin, breath ragged. “You feel so good.”

His hands spread you wider, his rough fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing, stroking, pressing inside so slowly. You gasped, your hands tightening around his.

Logan chuckled against your skin, His lips found your collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, nipping at the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. His fangs scraped your pulse point, making you shiver. “Hurts so good, don’t it?”

Your breath hitched.

“Yes—” riding back against his hand.

Logan groaned, his cock twitching against his jeans, his self-control hanging by a thread. He squeezed your hand in his before slipping a third finger inside without warning.

You cried out, thighs trembling, your whole body arching off the bed.

Logan held you there, anchored against him. His breath was ragged at your ear, his body warm and solid against yours. His lips brushed your temple, his voice deep, possessive.

. . .

His pants were finally gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, leaving nothing between you.

Logan didn’t rush—not yet. He took his time, dragging those rough hands over your body, memorizing every inch of bare skin. The shredded lace that barely clung to you? That didn’t stand a chance. His claws unsheathed with another sharp snikt, and in one fluid motion, he sliced through the delicate fabric, tearing it away completely.

His eyes were wild, dark with want, flickering between your heaving chest and the mess between your thighs. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight, as he ran his palms up your body, cupping the swell of your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your sensitive nipples.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured, leaning down, his lips brushing over one peak before closing around it. His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, and you gasped, moaning.

He groaned, suckling hard, one hand kneading the soft flesh, the other sliding down to grip your hip, his fingernails digging into your skin.

“You were made for me,” he rasped, dragging his mouth lower, kissing down your stomach, nipping and sucking until he reached the place where you were dripping for him.

He swiped his fingers through your slick folds, gathering the wetness before pressing them into your mouth. “Taste yourself, sweetheart,” he whispered, his gaze locked on yours, full of hunger and reverence.

You whimpered, sucking his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around them.

Your tongue swirled around his fingers, sucking them in as your eyes fluttered shut. Logan groaned at the sight, his jaw clenching, his breath ragged.

“Hell”

His fingers slipped free with a wet pop, and before you could beg, before you could even breathe, his mouth was on you.

His tongue curled against your clit, lapping broad and slow before narrowing to a precise flick that sent a shudder wracking through your body. His mutton chops scratched against the insides of your thighs, rough and hot, his breath burning where it ghosted over your soaked skin. He growled low in his chest, the vibrations sparking through you, making your hips buck up into his mouth.

“You’re so good to me—so good—”

He groaned into your cunt, his tongue curling deep inside you, his breath hot, damp against your soaked skin. The sound of your praise made him ache, made him desperate to pull more from you, to make you feel every bit of his devotion

His hands tightened against your thighs, holding you still, forcing you to take it. “Stay still, baby,” he mumbled between hungry licks, his voice dark and breathless.

“Lemme eat yeah” He was so beautiful like this—wild and hungry,

You whimpered, barely able to form words, your fingers threading into his thick hair, tugging hard. He groaned at that, pressing his face deeper between your legs, lapping at you like a man starved. His tongue flicked over your clit again, relentless now, faster, harder—fuck. Logan’s hips rutted against the mattress, barely aware of the way he was grinding against the sheets, so lost in the way you sounded, the way you tasted, the way your body moved under his tongue.

Your body tensed, your thighs trembling around his head as he devoured you, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet of the room. His mutton chops were damp, slick with your arousal, shining in the candlelight as he kept going, as he drank you in like he couldn’t get enough.

“Made for me,” he panted against you, tongue dipping deep, fucking into you before sliding back up to suck your clit between his lips. “You were made for me, sweetheart. This pussy—fuck—” He groaned, pressing his face harder against you, his nose nudging against your swollen flesh, his tongue flicking faster, deeper.

“Come for me,”

He lapped up every drop, his tongue still working you through the aftershocks, still flicking against your overstimulated clit, making you whimper, thrash beneath him. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, his body trembling with restraint. Logan didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. He kept licking, kept lapping up everything you gave him, drinking you down, his breath coming fast and heavy as you trembled against him. His mutton chops were damp, his lips slick, his hands shaking as he finally pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh—soothing over the marks he’d left with his teeth, his stubble.

“Fuck, too much—Logan—” you gasped, your voice shaky, pleading.

“Sweetie” he murmured, crawling up your body, his lips pressing against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was aching.

“Need you,”

…

Then, in an instant, he was pressing you into the mattress, pinning you beneath him, his cock heavy and leaking against your entrance. You gasped, suddenly straddling his waist, your hands splayed against his broad chest. He was still inside you, still stretching you open, still filling you so deep you swore you could feel him everywhere.

Logan groans as he watches the way you shudder beneath him, your body still fluttering around nothing when he pulls out, leaving you empty and aching. A whimper spills from your lips, your brows furrowing as you try to clench around the absence of him.

“Don’t pout, princess,” he rasps, “Gotta make sure you really want it.”

Your breath stutters when he fists himself, his cock slick and shining with your arousal, the thick head rubbing against your swollen clit, smearing a mess of both of you over your skin. You let out a needy little whine, reaching for him, desperate.

“I want it so badly,” you whisper, eyes big, pretty, pleading.

Logan grins, slow and sharp, still pumping his cock right above your trembling body. “You wanna help, sweetheart? Hm?”

You nod quickly, licking your lips as you wrap your fingers around him, your small hand struggling to close around his girth. Logan curses under his breath, his hips jerking slightly when you stroke him, slow at first, teasing the thick vein that runs along the underside of his length.

“Fuck, that’s it, sugar,” he groans, his hand covering yours, guiding you to go faster, tighter. “Knew you had it in you—such a good girl, knowin’ how to take care of her man.”

Your other hand drifts down to cup his heavy balls, rolling them gently, and Logan growls, his grip tightening on your wrist.

“You keep that up,princess, ‘m not gonna last,” he warns, but you just smile up at him, lashes fluttering as you pump him faster.

“Don’t wanna wait,” you murmur, tilting your head. “Wanna see you make a mess for me, Lo.”

He curses, his head dropping forward, his body tensing above you. And then he’s spilling, thick ropes of cum landing hot across your stomach, some dribbling down to your swollen folds, making a filthy, sticky mess of you.

You hum in satisfaction, running your fingers through the sticky heat, smearing it against your skin like you want to keep it there forever. Logan watches, breath still heavy, his gaze dark as he leans down, rubbing his fingers into the mess along with yours, pressing some back against your folds.

Before you can catch your breath, he’s pushing your thighs apart again, rubbing the mess of him against your fluttering entrance, teasing your overstimulated core.

Wet slap of skin meeting skin fills the room, his name spilling from your lips between gasps.

“There she is,” He groans, watching your face twist in pleasure, watching your chest rise and fall, the way your pretty tits bounce with every thrust. He moves a hand to your belly again, pressing down, feeling himself inside you. His lips brushed against your ear, voice husky and deep.

Your nails sank into his back as he pushed deeper, stretching you around his thick length. His skin was hot, damp with sweat, his muscles tense beneath your fingertips. you up just like he promised, thick heat dripping from where you’re still joined. He stays there, stays, pressing deep, as if making sure it takes.

Logan groaned, pressing his forehead against yours, his hips rolling slow, Your fingers dragged down his back, nails raking over his skin, drawing thin, red lines that healed almost instantly—only for you to mark him again.

The pain spurred him on. A snarl tore from his throat as he snapped his hips forward, setting a punishing pace, fucking you deep, raw, desperate.

His claws dug into the mattress, shredding through fabric and wood as his body moved with yours, chasing pleasure, chasing the overwhelming need to claim you.

You were sobbing his name, your nails carving deeper, and the sharp sting only made him thrust faster, harder, like his body was built for this—for you.

His mouth is on you—everywhere. Devouring you, You grip his hair, tugging him back up to you, gasping when his mouth slants over yours—hungry, demanding, the kiss hot and desperate. You taste whiskey and cigar smoke.

It’s too much, too full, your breath catching as he stretches you open, deeper than he’s ever been. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open for him, his voice a ragged growl.

Logan snarls. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn tight, baby—shit—gonna pump you full”

You scream his name, body breaking, shaking, pleasure so raw and all-consuming that you see white.

“There we go,” he groans, gripping your hips as he starts to move again,

“Yes—yes, Logan, please—”

Your body broke around him—shaking, sobbing, gripping him so tight he stayed—buried deep, holding you close, making sure you felt all of him. practically dripping from his seed.

“Love you darlin’”

“Love you too,” you reply softly, your voice a little breathless but full of affection.

He chuckles, low and warm. “Think we might need a new bed.”

You glance at the wreckage—the mattress askew, the frame half-split from the sheer force of his movements, and the claw marks etched deep into the fabric. The bedframe is a mess. The thought of it makes you laugh softly.

“I think you ruined it.”

He smirks, running his hand through his hair, the sharpness of his claws now retracted but still visible in the way his muscles flex as he stretches. “Couldn’t help it” His grin widens. “Neighbors are definitely gonna know we had a good time.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the giggle that escapes you, still a little dazed from the intensity of it all.

Logan watches you, his gaze softening as he wipes a strand of hair from your face. “Guess I’ll just have to get another bed.” The thought of replacing the bed not bothering him in the slightest.

You curl into his side, your head resting on his shoulder as you try to calm your breathing. “I think I’ll let you deal with the aftermath of that, Lo.”

“You know we got the goal I wanted, though, right?”

You nod, the contentment in your body proof of his success. “Yeah, I know.”

He pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. “Good. ‘Cause you’re gonna make me a damn good daddy one of these days.”

You laugh softly, teasing. “I guess we’ll see about that, huh?”

. . .

[tripandfalllol]

All i know is listen to green day and draw nightcrawler

[wolvndmouth]

as a bottom!logan truther is 1000000% accurate your honor

[rosenclaws]

Replacement || Logan x Reader

summary: Logan is gone and so you need something else to help you sleep.

a/n: So my boyfriend is out of town for the next 2 weeks so I put a shirt on my djungelskog he got me bc it smells like him and thus this fic was born

wc: 792

Having a superhero boyfriend was hard when all you wanted was to cuddle him to sleep.

Logan's been out on a mission since last week. It was more dangerous than normal and despite his cocky smile and promises to make it quick, you knew it was going to be more work than that.

In fact it was so dangerous that he couldn't even contact you. None of them could. It was radio silence for a whole week and it drove you mad. So you did the only thing you could really think of.

See Logan has this thing where he likes to one up Scott at every opportunity. It's pretty funny really. But one of these examples was last Valentines Day. Scott had gotten Jean a very cute stuffed bear with some chocolates.

Logan clocked the wanting look on your face instantly. You and Jean were talking about valentines day and the gifts you had gotten and given that day and he could see the way you kept glancing down at it. Logan took one look at the bear and scoffed. So what it was just a measly little bear. He disappeared for an hour or so and came back with the biggest teddy bear you had ever seen. It was literally taller than Logan himself.

But you loved it and suddenly it was the talk of the mansion and Logan felt a surge of pride seeing how happy you were. He couldn't help but flash a knowing wink at Scott too. Just one. Maybe two.

The bear, who you had aptly Bear after a childhood cartoon, sat in the corner of the room. You wanted it in your bed but Logan had insisted he was the only teddy bear you needed to sleep with. But now that Logan's gone you only had one choice.

You dragged the damn bear into your bed, snuck into Logan's room and stole one of his T-shirts, and put the shirt on the bear. It's silly. The thought of anyone seeing this, especially Logan, was embarrassing. But man you missed him so bad and if you could close your eyes, cuddle your bear, and pretend it's Logan's chest you're resting on then you were going to do it.

It's late into the night, you still aren't sure when Logan's going to come back so Bear will have to do for another night.

"Well well, what do we have here sweetheart?" You hear Logan's voice, you heart skipping a you slowly lift your head to see him standing at the doorway. Your arms are wrapped around Bear and your chin is resting in his plush stomach.

He's still got his X-Uniform on, a few blood stains but other than that he's fine. I mean super healing will do that for you.

"Hi. You mutter sleepily. "I missed you."

Logan chuckles as he pushes himself off the doorway.

"Are you sure? Because from what I can see I've been replaced." He hums as he looks at the shirt that Bear is wearing.

He wouldn't admit it but Logan's heart was bursting from just how cute you look. Your sleepy face and tired smile. The way you're clinging onto Bear like it's him. And the shirt. Oh tomorrow he'd tease you about it. But tonight he'll let it go.

"Nooo, he's just keeping me company." You whine as Logan peels off his suit, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

"Mhmm sure he is." He teases as he grabs Bear by the chin.

"You trying to steal my girl?" He squeezes Bears face and you grab his wrist.

"Stop being mean to him." Logan just laughs as you bury your face further into Bears stomach.

"Fine fine, but he's had his time. He goes back in the corner."

He pulls Bear off your bed, ignoring your pouting as he throws him to the corner of the room. He crawls into bed with you, taking the place of Bear and you quickly snuggle onto his chest. His arms pulling you close.

"So, how do I compare to the bear?" He asks as you bury your face in his toned chest.

"You're not soft and fluffy but I guess you'll do." Your voice is slightly muffled as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Oh yeah? Well I'm sorry your boyfriend is so jacked and handsome." Logan says with a fake sigh.

He smiles knowing you're rolling your eyes even if he can't see it. He hears your heartbeat start to slow, a sign that sleep was taking over whether you wanted it to or not.

"I really missed you." You mumble and Logan gently strokes your back. He kisses the top of your head and lets himself relax for the first time all week.

"I missed you too sweetheart."

[elliee3e]

little useless rant but logan puffing on his cigars really does it for me each time. and the little huff of air he lets around them ?? i’m soaked. might have to write something about this. excuse my horniness</3

[modernlovez]

Lazy night 🌙

[hesalwayslookinatmen]

HES 5’3??? bro is 3 apples tall

[lovelybucky1]

5. The Plan

wc- 2.1k // main masterlist // go greek! masterlist // tw: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex

The past couple of days have been torture for you. You’ve felt like you’ve been going through the motions rather than living your life. You can’t concentrate in class or while doing your assignments, and it takes ages to fall asleep at night. Your mind has been busy thinking about the guys and where you fall with them. Obviously, you can’t have eight boyfriends and you doubt they all think of you that way, but it makes you question things when they outright flirt with you.

Things with Joaquin have become far more complicated. You would consider dating him, have considered it, but it wouldn’t work out. He isn’t the only one you have eyes for and you could never do that to him. To make matters worse, they’re all friends, all brothers. Bucky and Steve are roommates, and it would torture you to be with one and not the other. Sam is funny, Matt is charming, Logan is mysterious, and you have a great relationship with Wade already. You’re pretty sure Frank is off-limits now, but you can’t say you don’t still think about him. 

The issue of not being able to have it all is one thing, but what’s really bothering you is the thought that they may not want you. They all flirt and joke, but you have no idea how serious they’re being with everything they say. After you saw Steve with the redhead after the party, you began to rethink every interaction. You thought he was at least mildly interested, but apparently, he’s been seeing someone this whole time. You’d expect something like that from Bucky, or maybe Matt, but certainly not Steve.

After some social media stalking with Karen’s help, you discover the redhead is named Natasha. She’s a senior dance major who already has a spot at the New York Ballet. She’s the president of Delta Zeta and a Pilates instructor. How can you compete with that? 

In a lot of Natasha’s pictures is a girl who you recognize from around campus. Her name is Yelena and they seem to be sisters, but they couldn’t be more different. Natasha has long red waves and a classic beauty look, while Yelena has a blonde mullet and a more alternative style. 

With how popular Natasha seems, you’re surprised you haven’t seen her around before. Unfortunately, now that you’re aware of her, you aren’t able to think about anything else. 

You wonder if Bucky has someone he’s been seeing too. Some bombshell who looks like she’s fresh out of the centerfold of a magazine who makes you look vastly inferior in comparison. You’ve heard the guys talk about Matt’s freaky sixth sense for women, how despite not being able to know they’re hot, he always picks the hottest ones. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn that all of the SAE boys have someone. You’d like to think that Joaquin is the exception, but frat boys will be frat boys.

You’ve been avoiding the guys to the best of your ability for the past four days. You’ve still been doing your duties and planning this weekend’s party, but you’ve used every excuse in the book to not meet up with them. You’ve even been taking your dining hall food to-go so you don’t have to risk seeing them there. Other than going to class, you’ve spent all your time in your room, much to Karen’s annoyance. After the getting-too-drunk incident and learning about Natasha, you didn’t have it in you to face them. 

You’re forced to confront them when Wade comes knocking on your door. You sigh when you look through the peephole, and you have no choice but to let him in. Your side of the room is a bit messy, a side effect of your cave-dwelling this week, but Wade doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Glad to see you’re still alive and not drawing in a bottle of Pink Whitney,” Wade says as he sits down on your bed, uninvited. Even though almost a week has passed, the mention of alcohol still makes your stomach turn. 

“What are you doing here, Wade?” you ask, sitting in your desk chair with your arms crossed.

“That Parker kid let me up. It’s amazing what nerds will do for you once you give them a little bit of attention.” You have no idea what he means by that but knowing Wade, it’s better that you don’t ask. “We’re worried about you.”

“We?”

“All of us. You like, ran out after the party on Saturday and we haven’t seen you since. You said you were sick and couldn’t go to the chapter meeting, but Sam said he saw you with your friends in the Library and you looked fine. And you seem fine now, so I think that was bullshit.”

Damn Darcy for making you help her study for Spanish. 

“I just… haven’t been in a great place lately. I needed some time for myself,” you say. It’s the closest you can get to the truth without spilling your guts and embarrassing yourself even more. 

“I get that, but we’re here for you. You’re one of us now and part of this whole Greek shit is to be there for each other. Do you need me to beat someone up? I’ve been working on my question-mark kick and I’m dying to test it out on someone.”

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “It’s just something I don’t want everyone to know about.”

With a frown, Wade gets up from your bed and moves to lean against your desk to be closer to you. In this position, you have to look up at him. “How about you just tell me?”

You can tell that he’s worried about you and you think it’s sweet, but it makes you question if he’s here on behalf of everyone, or for himself. If the others have even noticed that you haven’t been around. 

“You promise not to tell anyone?” you say, feeling like a child sharing secrets on the playground. Wade holds out his pinky and you wrap yours around it. 

“I swear on my great-grandma’s taxidermied cat.” You know Wade well enough to know that’s binding.

You take a deep breath. “You know that girl that Steve was with after the party?” Wade nods. “Well after I saw her, I kind of freaked out. I was already embarrassed about how I was at the party, and seeing her… I thought Steve and I maybe had something, but I guess it was all in my head.”

Wade sighs. “Steve and Natasha are… complicated. They’ve had a situationship since Sophomore year. She gives him just enough attention to keep him interested, and then she ghosts him. Usually, that attention is sex, and even though I’m down the hall, I can still hear them-”

“Wade!”

“Yeah, sorry. Anyway, every time Steve says he’s finally had enough of her, she inserts herself back into his life and he’s fucked up again. I don’t know her; I’m way too cool to hang out with a dance major, but there’s no way she’s that great.”

That surprises you. Steve doesn’t seem like the suituationship type. He could have anyone he wanted, why would he chase someone who messes with him like that? 

“So they’re not dating, but does he have feelings for her?” you ask.

“Like I said, it’s complicated. He knows she’s bad for him, but he can’t help himself. It’s like, when she’s in his life, he can’t focus on anything else. She blinds him or something.”

The thought that Steve never noticed you because he’s been with Natasha this whole time makes your heart ache. How could you have misread this so terribly? 

“Oh,” you say. The two of you sit in silence for a moment before Wade chimes in.

“I have an idea!” he says. A Wade-idea has a fifty-percent chance of being terrible, illegal, or otherwise ill-advised. “You have to make him jealous.”

You look at him, confused. “Why would Steve be jealous if he doesn’t want me in the first place?”

“All guys want what they can’t have. He’s been with Natasha long enough to know that she’ll disappear sooner or later, and when she does, he’ll have you to fall back on. But if you take that away by say, getting a boyfriend, it might make him realize what he’s missing.”

It turns out this idea isn’t as terrible as you thought, but you’re still not entirely on board. You get what Wade is saying, but you’re not sure if this is the best way to go about getting Steve to notice you.

“Where would I even find a boyfriend?”

Wade rolls his eyes more intensely than anyone you’ve ever seen. “Are you serious? You have a house of seven other guys who would love to be your boyfriend.” Wade obviously includes himself in that count, but you don’t comment on it. “I can't even imagine how many others would like to take you for a ride.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“Would that even work? I thought you guys shared pretty much everything.”

When you first agreed to be their sweetheart, Steve reassured you that they wouldn’t pass you around like a toy from brother to brother. That turned out to be true, but you have noticed a free-love vibe from them. They don’t get jealous of each other and from stories you’ve heard from Bucky, ex-girlfriends aren’t off-limits to the other guys.

“We share with each other, but not so much with outsiders,” he says. 

“You lost me.”

“I mean, if you were to start seeing someone from Pike, for example…”

Pike, Pi Kappa Alpha, is SAE’s rival frat. You’re not really sure of the full story, but you know there was a prank war that ended up in vandalism territory, a couple of crashed parties, and lots of rumors on the YikYak. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask.

“I fucking hate those bags of dicks. I’d love to hang all of them by their toes and beat the dog-shit out of them and I wouldn’t want any of them to even look at you. But I do think it’ll work.” With the mixed messages Wade is giving you, you have no idea if this plan is a good one or not. “And it’ll work on everyone, not just Steve. If you walk into a party with a Pike guy, you’ll have everyone’s attention.”

That piques your interest. They all give you attention, but maybe they’ll start to really notice you once you’re off the market, even for a little bit. 

“That actually may not be so bad,” you say. Wade’s face lights up at your approval of his idea.

“Awesome! I actually have some people in mind who you might be interested in,” he says as he takes out his phone. He scrolls through screenshots of dating profiles and Instagram accounts, proving that he is as much of an internet stalker as you are. 

“This guy is pre-med. Hot, but a total asshole. He’s one of those guys who acts like he’s already a surgeon making six figures, even though he’s in college taking Intro to Pottery for an art credit.” He flips to the next picture. “He is the definition of a trust fund baby. His dad is the biggest donor to the college because he’s insane-rich and he’s related to the founder. I’ve technically had classes with him but I’ve never once seen him actually in class. All he does is party and sleep his way through sororities. Also, he and Steve were friends freshman year but they had some crazy falling-out.”

Both guys look like assholes and you’re just trying to get Steve to notice you, not think you’re insane for dating some piece of shit like these guys.

“What else do you have?” you ask as if you were looking at a menu. 

He shows you a picture of a tall blonde with long hair and a beard. “This guy is actually pretty nice, but he’s such a himbo it hurts,” he says, making you laugh. “He’s on the rugby team and I’m pretty sure the only thing he knows how to do is run into people full-force.” 

The next picture is a guy with silver hair and some light stubble. “I don’t know much about him. He holds, like, ten track records which is insane, and I think he was the one who broke the glass door last semester.”

You grab the phone out of Wade’s hands and look at the pictures yourself because Wade obviously doesn’t know how to pick them. You eventually stop at a very attractive guy with a buzz cut. 

“Oh!” Wade says. “That’s Johnny. He’s an asshole but the cool, sexy kind, you know?”

“I’m familiar with the type,” you say with raised eyebrows, directing your comment towards Wade. He laughs, owning up to it.

“You interested?”

You smile up at him. “I think I am.”

[lostinlovingrevery]

Love and Bounties- Chapter 1

Cowboy! Logan Howlett X F! Reader

The Sun Rises in The East

An ominous presence has arrived to your quiet town

A/N: Oml this came out SO long...Hope you all enjoy! <3

Warnings: Alcohol, smoking, violence- barfights lol, blood and injury descriptions, Logan being a flirty menace, reader is described to have curly hair, probs some history inaccuracies lol bear with me

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1911, Harrodsburg, Kentucky

The sun rises in the east, and sets in the west.

A growing town known as Harrodsburg, resting in between the valleys and hills of the mountains in the East side of the States. A town of agricultural farming and horse trade.  Developing, but not quite having met the qualities of bustling metropolis that its neighbor cities have become. 

It was quiet, and just small enough that everyone almost knew everyone else. The town was a middle ground- a city slipping into the country, a place smack between the old and new century. 

In the distance, an ominous, lone figure perched on a horse observed the small town with keen eyes. A cigar set between his teeth, he puffed on it- a strong taste of earthy smoke filling his tongue. He tipped his cattleman forward over his eyes, the glare of the afternoon sun was bugging him, and he brought his hand down to his chin, scratching his beard thoughtfully as he considered the quaint little town. 

His horse, a beautiful mustang he tamed not too long ago, bobs her head with a swish of her tail. Impatient with her rider as he continued to observe the town below in silence. She was the color of cinnamon- hence, her name. Cinnamon. With a long mane the color of dark chocolate. He took delicate care of her- as a man should, for a creature that carries him for miles and miles of land deserved respect.

He glanced down at her, reaching a gloved hand down to soothe the heifer, a small pat of her head, before petting her mane. He looked back at the town, removing the half finished cigar from his lips and discarding it to the ground.

He tugged at the reins, clicking his tongue as an order and leading her to walk down the path of dirt that led to a muddy road, hoof prints and tracks of wheels belonging to carriages left behind. Soon the trees that surrounded the road began to thin out, and the town came into view- bustling with folks enjoying the sunny day. 

As he reached the outskirts of town, he took notice of the folks around. An old man with graying hair and scars on his face singing an old, sad tune as he shoveled soil into a wheelbarrow. To his right, a tired mother with a young boy and girl, arguing and shoving each other- only to immediately stop as the shadow of the lone cowboy towers over them as he walks by. A group of men smoking on a wooden porch stare him down past the brim of their hats- challenge set in their eyes. 

The townsfolk regarded him with caution.

He was used to it. The judgemental stares as people realize that trouble has come to their little town. They were right.

Trouble was one of many things that this man could be called. He was many things, a cowboy, a gunman, an outlaw, a bounty hunter. He was anything a job called of him to be, if the moneys right. 

He found the saloon- smack in the center of the town. On one side of the bar, hitching posts for folks and their horses and donkeys, opposite to the few automobiles parked along the building.

How modern.

He hopped off of his horse's back, grabbing her reins and tying them to a hitch, encouraging her to drink some water set before her in an old water trough while he began to search the packs hanging off the saddle, noting supplies he needed to pick up. 

Just from the looks of it- he could tell it was one where people look out for one another. One that will put up a fight to protect its own. He knew to tread carefully, not to draw suspicion. Don’t make it obvious what he’s here for.

He happened to look up when he noticed a lone woman walk by. Pretty thing she was. He has an eye for em’; He couldn’t help it.

Bouncy curls that fell past her shoulder, pretty eyes, and pretty lips - soft and delicate. A pretty, flowy dress- a tad scandalous for a woman her age to be wearing, with bare shoulders and an exposed collar that left little to imagination- surely a barmaid, or a woman of the cloth. She carried a crate that he couldn’t see the contents of with both hands, and she was watching him all the same. 

Maybe, he could enjoy some recreational time before he does what he came to do. It had been a long journey after all. 

“See something you like darling?” He calls out in a heavy tone, a small smirk plastered on his face. 

She raised a brow, “Relax cowboy, I was checking out your horse.” She teased, before winking. His smirk faded, turning into something curious. She continued on her path, but Logan didn’t stop watching her until she disappeared from the road. He was fascinated by the bounce of her curls, the swish of her dress as she walked with confidence.  

He shook himself out of her spell, deciding that he’ll track her down later. A smile like that doesn’t just go unforgettable in his mind. First- he needed a drink, and information. 

Once sure that Cinnamon was secured, he made his way up the steps of the saloon, where he could hear raucous laughter and joyful music playing inside. 

It was crowded. Filled with men and women busying themselves with entertainment on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The air was thick with booze and tobacco. Men playing poker, or chatting merrily around tables and bar tops with pretty showgirls sitting on their laps fake laughing at their jokes with their arms hanging around their necks. 

 A few of the patrons took notice. Watching as Logan slithered through the tables and the crowds. Sizing up the stranger, a few whispers spread through the bar as more people took notice. The chatter didn’t stop, but became quieter in his presence. 

He settles down at a lone table in the far corner. He didn’t need more stares, the judgemental looks that he already was met with outside. People were likely already gossiping about this handsome stranger, wondering what had brought him into their quiet town. It wouldn’t be long till the news spread, until someone recognizes him.

He’ll get some dumbass trying to challenge him on the streets, causing all sorts of chaos. Being the man he was, he’ll accept it gladly. 

Click. Aim. Bang.

He settled back in his seat, the old chair groaning against his weight. He let out a tired sigh, reaching into his vest- made of worn leather, with an imprint across it from the bandolier that always sits slung over his chest. 

He pulled out a paper, folded and tucked inside a pocket of the vest and unfolded it carefully. He tuts quietly as he reads it- the bounty he received. Mailed directly to him. Whoever sent it knew where he was that day because he didn’t have a place to stay- a wanderer through cities and towns. 

It was sketchy as hell. It’s not the first time he’s been hired for a job, but normally he gets approached by an actual person looking to talk details about the job- not a courier with a telegram. Some 10 year kid looking terrified to set foot in the bar he was settled in for the day.

A message, addressed to him directly;

It shared details about a woman living in this town, who makes herself a doctor. Her name, and a few discreet details of her looks - not helpful whatsoever, but it isn’t his first rodeo.

JAMES L HOWLETT -(STOP)-

A BOUNTY IS BEING OFFERED TO YOU -(STOP)-

SHOULD YOU ACCEPT AND COMPLETE A PAYMENT WILL BE MADE TO YOU IN AMOUNT OF THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS-(STOP)-

It was sketchy- but the money, lord the money would be enough to settle him for life if he so desired. It would be a long tiring trip, considering he had been in a little town called Jefferson in Texas at the time- over two week trip to the town of Harrodsburg, and will be a similar trip back to the West- which will be a pain in the ass since bounties aren’t typically eager to go with him anywhere. 

Once again, the money- assuming it’s true, and worth it. Too good to pass up. 

He didn’t ask questions about his work, easier that way- couldn’t help but be curious though. What has this woman possibly done to warrant a bounty of three thousand dollars? Furthermore, why pick him to do this job, he was singled out. He may be greedy, but he wasn’t dumb. 

Something has arisen, however it doesn’t matter as long as he gets that cash in hand. 

“Would you like something to drink, stranger?” 

He looked up from the paper, a waitress stood there with a big smile, blonde curls, and piercing blue eyes, which trailed over his handsome face. Pretty hazel eyes, strong jaw, and sculpted nose. He was used to the looks, he knew he was a handsome man. Never really paid mind to it though, unless he found something pretty and willing. 

He took a deep inhale. “Bourbon.” He says leaning forward on the table. She nods a playful tilt of her head as she gives him another pleasant grin- which unnerved him a bit, walking away back to the counter. He turned his attention elsewhere, not noticing her leaning over and whispering something to another man seated at the bar who was nursing a glass of whiskey. 

He folded the telegram back up, sticking it back in his vest before dropping an arm on top of his lonely table, tapping his fingers rhythmically along the wood as he turned to observe the windows- shutters pulled shut but streams of light still came through the cracks of the wood- where he could see the hazy dust and smoke floating around the air.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the man at the bar counter had stood up, making his way towards him. 

“You!” 

Logan turned his head, an impassive expression on his face as he queried a brow. 

“I know who you are.” The man slurs. “Get out of here!” 

Logan tilted his head, a smirk growing on his face as he sensed a fight would happen- just not so soon. Suppose he’s becoming more and more infamous every day.

He’s gained a reputation in his years. Countless jobs, missions, and confrontations. He’s got posters of his face going from the west to the east of the states- even stretching into Canada and Mexico. He’s overheard people telling his stories- A heist of a train traveling through multiple states, a quickdraw duel with a mayor, and the time he pitted two gangs against each other- to be the only one standing after the dust settled. 

He’s a busy man.

“No, I don’t think you know who I am bub.” Logan leaned forward. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be talking to me right now.” 

“You’re a bad man.” He sneers. “A killer, a thief-!”

“Go sleep it off pal.” Logan warns, his smirking fading into a scowl. “Before you do something you regret.” 

“I’lll make you regret ever coming here-” He lunges after Logan, who stood up from his chair - a loud crash as both the chair and table fall to the ground. 

“That's the best you got you drunk asshole?” Logan taunts as he dodges a punch- only to be tackled immediately after. 

The patrons of the bar begin yelling, a few whooping and cheering.

The struggle ensued, as the drunken accuser pushes Logan into the shutters, breaking them open as Logan’s is nearly pushed out the window- startling an old woman as she was walking by. He's pulled back in, and a punch is landed across his face. 

He fights back, punching his attacker back- and knocking him out clean to the floor. By then, chaos has erupted throughout the bar- as most men, drunk on booze have taken this as their sign to fight their buddy next to them. Multiple men gang up on Logan- defending their KO'd brother on the floor.

Logan- no stranger to fight held himself steady. Using various tools at his disposal, he broke a chair over one man's back, and tossed the other over the bar counter. The angelic waitress from earlier screams and jumps onto Logan's back, hitting on his chest and shoulders in a febrile attempt to injure him.

“Get off me lady!” Logan shouts, attempting to shake her off, until another woman comes over and begins a cat fight with the waitress as she tears her off Logan's back. 

Bottles are thrown across the bar, crashing against the wall. Logan attempts to make a quick exit alongside one wall, avoiding the two men fistfighting each other. A knife was thrown, slamming into the wall inches away from Logan's face, as he watched with wide eyes, the handle vibrate from the recoil. 

He ducked under the knife, pushing past two more drunken men, who fell to the ground wrestling each other. He caught the words of one of them accusing his enemy of sleeping with his mother. Yikes.

Logan nearly made his escape- except the drunk from earlier, who started the whole thing had woken up not long after being knocked out and trailed Logan through the bar, grabbing the knife that was stuck in the wall. 

“Asshole!” Logan heard him yell, and turned just as the knife came down, slicing down his arm, where red began to bleed through the cut, quickly soaking through the white sleeve of his shirt. Logan hissed from the pain, jumping back- just when several men barged in- one grabbing Logan and pulling him back out into the bright sun and fresh air. 

“Can’t go one goddamn day without a fight breaking out around here.” The stranger mutters under his breath as he helps the slightly disoriented cowboy down the porch of the saloon. “Christ, your arm okay pal?” 

“S’It look okay?” Logan sneered, his hand moving up to apply pressure to it, hissing at the stinging sensation through gritted teeth. He’s had worse, but damn it hurts. 

“Just trying to help. You should see the doc.” 

He was begrudgingly dragged to the so-called doctors house. Forced to walk through streets until reaching an empty road where a lone house stood tall, surrounded by trees and wildflowers. A small garden growing various vegetables sat in front- and he spotted a small pen nearby, where he heard the bleating of goats. 

Nice place.

Logan- distracted from the pain in his arm- and grumpy he never got his drink and got a fight and a slash to the arm instead- ruining a perfectly good shirt by the way, didn’t put two and two together right away when he arrived. 

“Doc!” The stranger calls out to the house as they approach it- a man who introduced himself as Oliver; not as tall as Logan, with short brown hair and clean shaven face and adorning suspenders. Oliver was rambling as they made their way to the doctors house- which Logan tuned out for the most part. Only picking up that the doctor was sweet, and a bit quirky as some people say. Not traditional in a sense.

He opens the screen door to the house without knocking, holding it open for Logan. “Doc? Got some work for you.” He calls out into the house as he steps inside after Logan.

“I don’t need a doctor pal, I’m fine.” Logan mutters, leaning against a small table by the door and removing his hand to observe the bloody wound. Oliver grits his teeth, sucking air through them as he put his hands on his hips, pointing to the arm and shaking his head

“Ya gonna lose that arm to uh…What they call it…”

“Sepsis.” 

A woman's voice made them raise both their heads. 

You leaned against the frame of the archway that led into your living room, a wet rag in hand as you just finished cleaning your kitchen- in which you had been thinking about how happy you were to finally have a quiet Saturday;

Of course good things never last long.

You tilted your head and you smiled, observing the two men standing in your foyer. 

“Whatchu bring me now Oli?” You straightened yourself, walking over to Oliver and the injured man- the tall, handsome one you saw earlier who had clearly been mentally undressing you when he saw you walk by. He had a dangerous look about him, and looks like you were right.

Logan stared at you in surprise, wide eyed and lips slightly parted. You would have thought he just fell in love by the way he stared at you. Logan's eyes trailed down your body, still in the pretty dress you still had on from earlier. Now that he’s got a closer look at you, you are definitely a beaut, heavenly in the way the light from the windows of your home glows with sunlight around you. He didn’t think when he saw you earlier that you’d be a doctor of all things. 

“Another casualty of Morgan's Saloon.” Oliver smiles, a certain shine in his eyes that Logan noticed Oliver has when he looks at you. “I guarantee you, there’s going to be more heading here soon.”

“Figures.” You scoffed, shaking your head, you stepped past Oliver, placing your hand on Logan's shoulder as you observed the cut. “Ouch! How did this happen mister…” 

“Call me Logan.” He gives you a charming smile, leaning closer to you, hand coming up to tip his hat respectfully.  

“Logan.” You raised an eyebrow, now putting your hands on your hips, tipping your chin back as you look up at him with a playful expression. “What happened at the saloon?”

“What always happens.” He smirked. “The arm’s fine darling, no need to fuss over me- much as I ‘preciate the attention of pretty woman like you.” 

“How about you let me decide if your arm is okay.” You say sweetly, waving for him to stand up.

“Need me for anything?” Oliver asks you, you shook your head- the curls of your hair bouncing with your movements, politely waving him off.

“No, just make sure no one killed each other back there.” You muttered, shaking your head, as you began to lead Logan through your home and into your kitchen. 

Pulling out a chair from your kitchen table, you pat it and motioned for Logan to sit who obliges, taking off his cattleman hat and setting it on the table.

“You mind taking off your vest and shirt so I could get a better look?” You ask as you walk across the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out small containers filled with medicine, bandages, and more and setting them onto the table behind Logan. 

“Any excuse to see me shirtless, huh?” He asks in a coy tone, turning his head to the side, a playful grin on his face as his eyes watched you busy yourself around the kitchen.

You froze, rolling your eyes at his flirtation and not responding to it. It’s a common interaction with most men brought to your home. You however, were more concerned to make sure he doesn’t bleed out or die of sepsis inside your kitchen that you just cleaned. You went to another cabinet and pulled out a glass and some liquor, setting it aside, before stopping to put your hair back, going to wash your hands in the sink- while also filling a bowl with water and clean rags. 

Logan looked forward again, and began working on shedding his bandolier, vest, and shirt- now ruined with blood. He groaned a bit, the feeling of the discarded cloth wasn’t pleasant against his wound. He discarded them to the floor and sighs as he settled into the chair. You walked to his side, holding out a glass of whiskey. He looked at it, then you.

“Well, thank you sweetheart.” He purrs, happily taking the glass from your hand. He does a small toast to you, before sipping it- savoring the burn of the liquor on his tongue- finally getting that drink he hadn’t stopped thinking about since he’s arrived in this town.

“You’ll need it.” You hummed, as you walked around him, grabbing another chair to sit on as you grabbed the wet rag from the bowl, squeezing out the excess water and you began to gently wash the blood away. He flinched from the cold temperature of the water. “Sorry,” You smiled apologetically to him. “It’ll take too long to warm it up.” 

“I can take it.” He mutters, looking down at his drink, before taking another swig. It was silent as you worked to clean him up, observing the long cut down his bicep to his elbow. Meanwhile, he observed your house. Nice, pretty- definitely a sign of a lived-in woman. “So, doc, how a girl like you get into a business like this?” 

“Mm. Long story.” You say. “I like helping people, is the short of it.”

“You don’t look like a doctor.” 

You tipped your head up at him. “Yeah? and what should I look like?” 

He glanced at you, realizing he was digging himself a grave by the challenge in your eye. “Mm, I don’t know.”

“No no, clearly you have some notions of what a doctor should look like…Share it with me.” You encourage, with a playful tone in your voice as you resume cleaning his arm. 

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” He grinned, shaking his head. “I suppose I just uh…” He looked at you, his voice turning low. “Never seen a lady so beautiful, be a doctor, of all things before.” 

“Mmhm.” You barely respond, not wanting to fuel his attempt to flirt.

“Some lucky guy make an honest woman out of you?” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “No...” You tittered. 

“Shame. Dame like you should have someone taking care of you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I can take care of myself.” You retort, tipping your chin up at him. He smirked. 

“Yeah…” His eyes trailed down, not being very discreet as he checked you out. “Ain’t nothing wrong with being taken care of though, sweetheart. Look at what a nice thing you’re doing for me.”

“This nice thing is my job.” You raised your brows at him. “I took an oath when I became a doctor. Do no harm, help anyone to the best of my ability.”

“Yeah…” His smirk slowly faded. “So you like helping people huh?” 

You were silent, as you thought about what he said, playing back old memories. Patting his arm dry with a new clean rag, giving you a clear view of the cut on his arm. You nodded. “Yes. I do.” You were sincere in your tone.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He had a more serious look, something thoughtful. Like he was considering your words. 

“Well, you don’t need stitches.. That's the good news!” You set back, looking away to break the building tension. “I’ll just clean it out, wrap your arm up and you’ll be good as new.”

“Thanks doc.” He turned his head away from you, his finger tapping along the glass. You took the chance to observe his face. 

No, you couldn’t deny he was quite handsome. He had pretty eyes, and a nice deep voice that sounded like honey and whiskey to your ears. Clearly a brute creature, but at least he was respectful enough to you.

“You get into a lot of fights Logan?” You asked. He looked at you again, and you motioned with your hand the various scars along his body. He looked down at what you were pointing at. You didn’t need him to tell you though, you were able to tell the moment you laid eyes on him outside the saloon. He was a wanderer- a cowboy. Every scar told a story. 

It should sway you, it’s clear he’s dangerous. He had a revolver on his holster- inches away from your knee. You couldn’t help but be drawn to him though. 

“It happens.” He says with a shrug, finishing off his whiskey. “Misunderstandings.” 

“Yeah? What do you do to cause so many misunderstandings?” 

He looked at you, expecting to find judgement, something critical, in your eyes. Yet you looked at him with no judgement- no, he saw something more unfamiliar in your expression. Kindness.

“Nothing you should worry about.” He says gently. 

You nodded, and returned to his arm- grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and cotton rag and began applying it to the large cut. He let out a hissing noise, wincing from the sting and turning his head away. 

“Damn that smarts.” He grunts, gritting his teeth and shaking his head.

“Sorry. That’s why I gave you a drink.” You continued to thoroughly apply the antiseptic to the injury. “You’ll want to keep this clean- don’t be swimming in any rivers or lakes. Have a doctor check up on it in a few days- make sure there’s no infection and I’m serious- you don’t want to lose that arm.”

He hummed. “Got it.” 

You gently lifted his arm up, informing him to hold it up while you began to wrap it gently with a bandage roll. 

“So do you uh, work out of your house?” He asks. You nodded. 

“People are more comfortable that way I feel.” You say. “Lot of the time when you’re sick you don’t want to sit in a room filled with needles and scary looking chairs and all. The only issue is the occasional need for surgery, injuries worse than yours, I need a sterile field, infections run rampant enough already. I have a room down the hall for that if needed, which fortunately isn’t often, but with all the farms around here- stuff happens with the machinery.”

Logan listened intently, his eyes observing the kitchen before he glanced down at the vest he left on the floor- which occurred to him. A woman, and a doctor, sitting right next to him. 

Logan wasn’t a good man. This felt completely shitty though. 

“So, what’s your name darling? Don’t think I caught it” He asks casually.

You told him your name, not noticing the way his eyes darted over to you, staring you down with intensity- if you had looked at him right then, you would have seen a flash of guilt. His eyes darted away before you could see it. 

“Pretty name.” 

You shook your head with a smile, “Thank you, Logan.” 

Money’s money.

He turned his head fully to look at you. You felt tension return between you. Logan's eyes seemed to pierce through you, and you were hypnotized by them. You cleared your throat, standing up and pulling off your gloves- sticking them into the bowl of dirty water- which you’ll clean and sanitize later. 

“You’re all set.” You inform him, smoothing out your dress as you speak. “Do you need anything for the pain?” 

“Another glass of whiskey will do just fine.” He grumbles looking away.

You let out a small laugh and nodded, walking around him, the heel of your boots clipping on the hardwood as you grabbed the bottle of whiskey- and topped off his glass as he held it up to you. 

“You look tired Logan.” You say as you set the bottle down. “Why don’t you get some rest? You can lie down on the couch, I have a bedroom as well if you’d like some privacy and something more comfortable?” 

“I’m alright.” He stands up, and you see his muscular figure. Trailing from his Adams apple, down to his chest and stomach, brawny, hairy, he clearly was strong and you could appreciate that as a woman and a doctor.

You hadn’t paid much attention to it earlier, seeing he was a patient and you were focused on taking care of the wound first. Now that he was okay, you could certainly appreciate the specimen before you. It bloomed a heat in your cheeks and you looked away, suppressing a bashful smile. 

“Mind if I use the bathroom?” He asks. 

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You nodded, you walked across the kitchen with him following- and you pointed down a small hall. “The door on the far right.” 

“Thanks darling.” He says, a charming smile shot your way as he walked past you. Your eyes glanced down to his pants, heavy with a holster resting over on his hip. The revolver you weren’t looking at though.

Nice ass!

You blinked at the thought, shaking your head as you walked back to the kitchen, beginning to clean up, grabbing the items that Logan carelessly discarded to the floor when he came into your kitchen.

A slip of paper fell out between the clothing items, and you reached down to grab it. It had unfolded when it slipped out of the vest, a paper that looked like a telegram.

You aren’t nosy, really, but a quick glance and you noticed something familiar between the printed words. You read it as you stood up- and your stomach sank with your blood running cold. You read the telegram message- addressed directly to him, with details of you, your job, your home. 

Three thousand dollars?!

This man was here for you- and acted like a flirt, a friend, to your face. You left the door open for anyone no matter the danger, always able to handle yourself, a handsy drunk, a hysterical child- you’ve seen it all. 

A bounty hunter?

He’s in your home, alone, with you. You weren’t sure how you could get out of this one.

You didn't hear him behind you as you stared at the paper dictating your inevitable kidnapping. 

“Well, look at what you found, sweetheart.”

You turn around, jumping at the sound of his voice. You clenched the paper in your hand as you stepped back from him, feeling like there was a frog in your throat. 

His expression was serious. You didn’t see remorse, guilt, nothing and that pissed you off more than scared you. He sighed, reaching to grab his shirt, observing the cut and blood-stained cloth, and clicking his tongue, before pulling it back on. Then grabbing his vest.

You watched him as he dressed himself, nervously looking back where your backdoor was- calculating how far you could get from him, find a weapon perhaps. Your eyes glanced down at the revolver on his hip. 

Realistically, you’re fucked.

You watched him pull the bandolier over his shoulder, and then grabbed his hat, before he looked at you with an unimpressed expression. “Well darling. How is this going to play out?” 

You press your lips together, straightening your shoulder and holding your head high. “Surely you don’t think you could just kidnap me, with as many people around here as there are. What, you’re just going to sling me over your shoulder, shoot your way back into town on your horse and carry me off to god knows where?”