#x men 97 fanfiction

[panbotter]

Hey so in reference to my previous ask, can you do one were the reader is having trouble controlling their powers (you can decide those) and either Kurt or Erik comfort them after a bad day and end up confessing to the reader. You can ad smut if you want but if not that's totally fine too☺️.

Your Existence is Grand

Erik Lehnsherr x gn!reader

Erik notices you having a rough day with your powers and decides to shower you with praise.

(This is my first fanfic literally ever so feedback appreciated, but also... Sorry for any mistakes!!!!)

Trigger warnings: cursing, suggestive themes (I don't know what else to write here, pls let me know if there's anything else I should add!)

The air around me begins buzzing and crackling, becoming charged with electricity and I sigh, deeply frustrated before I reach for the metal doorknob in front of me and receive a shock so strong that all the muscles in my arm cramp up painfully. I curse under my breath, forcing my arm to bend and stretch the tense muscles as I walk into the lounge, getting a glimpse of the others outside. Some might say I’d been gifted with a particularly powerful mutation, that it made me strong and intimidating. That I am admired for it, as if it’s a blessing to be grateful for.

But in this god-forsaken world, all I could see was a curse that plagued my body. I never bothered to understand the science behind it, as much as others might have tried to explain it to me. Something about the electricity in my body behaving abnormally, affecting the air around me and in turn, other electronics or conductors of electricity, turning me into a walking hazard around power lines, or thunderstorms. Let's not even mention the sheer amount of electrical fires I’ve caused. Sure, it sounds cool. But the reality is basically hell.

One of the ‘best’ parts about my mutation is that it is terribly unstable, especially when you’re constantly surrounded by electricity no matter where you go. Everyone else who charges up some static then touches a piece of metal receives a little sting from a silly little shock. It might be a little funny or perhaps surprising! Maybe it happens when you touch fingers with someone else and you shock each other, what a cute moment!

Try getting fucking electrocuted every single time.

Nowhere near as cute, nor as fun.

Some days are worse than others and the more restless I become, the worse it is for me in the end. But unfortunately, I can’t lay in bed immobile for an entire day to lower the voltage my body is producing, resulting in my current conundrum. Avoiding the rest of the X-Men in order to avoid any potential accidents, especially with Jubilee. Fireworks and a highly-charged mutant body surrounded by a bunch of high-tech only spells out bad news. Luckily, it seems like most of them were outside on the basketball court. That’s what I thought, at least.

“I take it you’re having a bad voltage day?” the voice of none other than Magneto startles me out of my thinking. It’s been more than a few months of him living here with us, but his presence is still unexpected. I had a hard time training the knee-jerk defensive reaction out of my body for the first few days, my body becoming charged up so quickly that I wouldn’t even have the chance to blink before I shot a bolt of electricity at him.

He was quick to show that a little spark didn’t do much to him, given that he was essentially a walking magnetic field.

I turn to him, his large form standing at the entrance to the lounge, “What makes you say that?” I turn back to watch as Scott and Logan start another argument, their voices muffled by the glass.

“The air keeps crackling and I have a hard time believing there’s a storm inside the building” he approaches until he pauses at my side. I chuckle a little, giving a wince once I feel my sore muscles constrict. He turns to watch me.

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe Storm has had enough of those two at each other’s throats” I try to joke but my voice falters, as my heart begins to race again and the sound of the air buzzing around me becomes overwhelming. Tremors begin rippling across my muscles, a mixture of them cramping and relaxing too fast for me to keep up with. Losing the strength in my legs, I stretch a hand out toward the glass in front of me to hold myself up but I miss the glass by a couple inches. Erik’s hands are quick to grab onto my arms before pulling me into his chest, supporting my weight as the crackling noise fills my ears and I let out a pained shout. My body releases a strong burst of electricity, most of it absorbed by Erik’s magnetic field, whilst the rest causes the power in the building to go out. I pant loudly, trying to catch my breath, feeling like my heart might’ve stopped in the middle of that.

The lights flicker around us before the power in the school hums back to life. Erik’s hands are still around me, I realize before beginning to step away, but his hold on me tightens. He pulls me back against his chest and I try to fight back the heat that’s slowly creeping up to my face. This is a bit embarrassing. I’ll admit it, I had grown to like Erik in the time he’d been with us, not to mention I had quite a few run-ins with him before I ever joined the X-Men. He always seemed so… Powerful, he always felt safe to be around. As radical as the Professor may claim he is, he always seemed… Right. You could hear the passion in his voice when he spoke of mutantkind and it made you want to side with him, to be loyal and to follow him to the ends of the Earth.

He had a powerful presence, and as I am now discovering, a powerful touch. One of the very few people who could come near me without fear of being electrocuted. My muscles had begun to twitch in the aftermath of the shock. These are the unfortunate moments where I wish I could be rid of my mutation. I could barely hold myself up and here I was in Erik’s arms.

“You should be resting” his voice was stern, but there was a hint of concern in there. I raise my gaze to meet his, feeling a bit of shame.

“I can’t just lay in bed all day, the world is still turning, there’s things to do…” I muttered.

“Precisely, the world is still turning and it will still continue to turn if you are at rest. You, on the other hand, are not a planet and you need to care for yourself”

I stare into his eyes, feeling them pierce through my soul. He always seemed to be right about everything… I chuckle under my breath as I regain some strength in my legs, straightening back up.

“I’m sure you must be tired of having to run after all of us like a babysitter” I joke as his arms come to rest on my shoulders once I’m stable on my feet.

A glint crosses his eyes, “I do wonder how Charles managed, and then I remember he’s a telepath, so it must’ve been quite easy for him” he replies with a smirk gracing his face that makes me laugh a little.

“He still struggled, you shouldn’t compare yourself to the Professor”

He begins to lead me toward the couch behind us, helping me take a seat before joining me. I still feel a hot streak of shame across my stomach, having him help me. Burdening him.

“Sorry, by the way… You’re right, I should be a little more considerate of others” I mutter.

Erik turns to look at me as I avoid making eye contact, “I don’t believe those were my words…” his hand reaches out toward my chin, gently turning my head to face him, “I only ask of you to rest and care for yourself, forget what the others may think”

I blinked up at him, “The Professor always wanted me to push past my limits, so that I can perhaps get stronger… Control my powers better”

“In a perfect world, you wouldn’t have to restrict your abilities, you could rule this planet with a wave of your hand, what you have is something to be proud of, not ashamed” he places his hand against my cheek and I find myself leaning against his warm touch, “Your mutation is a blessing, not a curse”

I scoff, “Sure doesn’t feel that way, I can’t even live among humans without shutting down an entire city’s power”

“Your powers shouldn’t be hidden, controlled, or restricted for the sake of humanity” he says the word with disdain, “but those are my beliefs, your existence is grand mein liebling”

My heart thumps against my chest loudly at his words. It feels… Intimate. How could he speak such high praise toward me?

“I see you hurt and I watch as you restrain yourself around others, as your mutation basically eats your body alive and it pains me…” his eyes gaze across my face, pausing at my lips before trailing back up to my eyes, “It pains me that you live in a world where you feel you cannot rest, where you feel you must hide the power within you”

“Erik…” I whisper, almost afraid to shatter the moment between us, “What are you… What are you saying…?” I peer into his eyes, seeing something brewing behind his gaze. Could it be possible that he’s… No, there’s no way.

“What do you believe I’m saying?” he whispers softly, leaning in toward me. I jump as a few sparks fly out from where he has his hand on my cheek. I can’t help my eyes dropping to his lips before rising back up to his eyes.

I feel the tension rise and in a desperate attempt to avoid it, I joke, “If I was delusional, I might think you’re trying to confess to me right now” I laugh a little to dispel the tension. His gaze was still just as intense so I failed, but I tried my best.

A smile graced his features, “Yes… Perhaps if you were delusional, you might see that I am actually confessing my feelings for you right now” he says it so casually I almost think he’s playing along with my joke, but as my eyes widen, so does his smile.

“Are you…?” my voice wavers a little. I feel my heart drop, realizing he’s probably joking with me. I turn away from his hand, lightly pushing his chest to put distance between us.

“Is this some sort of joke? Come on, Erik… You know that’s… It’s unrealistic” I mutter, a man like him would never love someone like me, that’s not how it works… Maybe in the movies, or in a fairytale perhaps.

“Mein liebling, perhaps I haven’t been clear enough with you” he wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me in close, closer than before, “do you prefer a visual demonstration instead? I can give you that, you only need to ask” he smiles before slowly leaning in, giving me enough time to back out if I wished, but I find myself leaning in, eager to feel his lips against mine.

As soon as our lips locked together, sealed at last, a burst of electric sparks flew out from our lips and I giggled into the kiss. I mean, how ironic is that? I felt real, literal sparks and fireworks from the kiss and it made my lips tingly. Erik smiles into the kiss before deepening it, his hand rising up toward my hair while the other trailed down my back and I found myself desperate to be closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, clumsily climbing over to sit on his lap. We part right as I begin losing my breath and he trails a burning, tingly trail of kisses down my jaw before he stops by my ear.

With a whisper that blew across the nape of my neck, “I see more than just greatness in you, so much more…” The words are charged with intention, passion, and sincerity. I shudder as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I bite back a moan as he continues kissing down my neck. I take a sharp breath in as he begins sucking on a tender spot before I suddenly realize what we’re doing…

Where we’re doing it.

I turn slightly to peek at the windows, making sure the others are still thoroughly distracted with playing before I feel Erik bite my skin and a moan breaks out, “Wait! Erik… We’re… In the lounge…”

He lifts his head, and the dark look in his blue eyes makes me clench my legs in anticipation, “We’ll just have to be fast… And quiet… Can you do that?” He taunts me with a question I don’t even get the chance to answer before he lays me down on the couch, climbing over me, “I’m just helping you relax, that’s not a sin, is it?” He looks down at me with a hungry gaze and I feel my cheeks burn.

“I guess not”

“Show me what else you can do with these sparks of yours”

[dinogoofymutated]

For the Logan thirst: it’s laundry day. You’ve got nothing to wear but a pair of panties (or maybe that ugly thong you bought just bc it was on sale) and one of Logan’s flannels or shirts. You still end up with nothing to wear because you got side tracked. 👀 Logan totally didn’t go feral seeing you in one of his shirts. He was soo normal about it. 👀💚

NSFW! Wolverine/AFAB!FEM!reader.

This is the most depraved thing I've ever written I stg. I basically combined some tropes from a few different requests I received, so I hope this will satisfy everyone's thirst 😏

TWs: MDNI!!!! scent kink (my god). Nicknames "pretty girl" and "beautiful". Logan being feral. Manhandling. Eating-out. Little bit of edging. Fucking against the wall, PNV sex, biting, creampie.

    You hated doing the laundry. You hated gathering it, folding it, putting it away- it just was so slow. It left you with too much time to think- and you avoided doing it because of that- but this was getting ridiculous. You couldn't find a single clean shirt- you were lucky that you had managed to find underwear, Honestly. All of your pants were dirty too, which left you standing around in the bedroom halfway naked, finally deciding that you had no choice but to do the laundry.

    But you needed a shirt. It didn't matter if it was your own home- you just felt too vulnerable walking around the house basically naked like you were. You debate grabbing the bedcovers to sling over you, but that was going to be annoying to deal with while you're lifting and throwing shit in the laundry machines. A flash of red catches your eye on the top of your dresser. It's Logan's flannel. The one lounged around in yesterday while enjoying his day off.

    Well, it wasn't dirty, because he hadn't gone out in it. At most it just smelled like him. So… why not?

    His flannel is a bit oversized on you, reaching down towards your thighs. The sleeves were a bit awkward to work around, but you made it work. It was almost nice. Domestic even, to be wearing his clothes like this. You're in the laundry room when Logan gets home, still folding and sorting your laundry with both the washer and dryer running.

    “Fuck.” Logan's low grunt from the doorway startles you at first, almost dropping the clothes in your hands. It wears off pretty quickly though, and you give him a sweet smile.

    “Hey Logan! Didn't realize you made it home.” You say. Logan seems to be standing there stunned for a moment, swallowing. He catches you off-guard by rushing you, pulling you in by the hips and smashing his lips against your own. You can only let out a surprised noise, wide-eyed at him. It doesn't take long for you to kiss back, heart pounding from the welcomed surprise. Logan bites your lip, taking his opportunity to lick into your mouth when you gasp. His sharp canines were one of your favorite parts about him, and he sure as hell always made sure to take advantage of that.

    Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt as his hands move down, squeezing and fondling your ass and thighs. You let out a yelp as the fondling turns to lifting, and he grabs you by the thighs to plop you onto the washing machine rather roughly.

    “Laundry day?” Logan finally asks, looking at you with lidded eyes before his haze of lust returns. His gaze drifts towards the cleavage exposed from the neckline of his flannel, reaching much lower on you than it does for him. He's buried his face into your cleavage immediately, brushing the ends of his sharp canines on the skin as he nips and sucks a mark onto the top of one of your breasts.

    “Uh- uh-huh.” You stutter out, desperately trying to keep your composure. You bite your lip as Logan works his way back up to your neck, continuing to lick and suck on your most sensitive spots. He nips you a little harder than normal, and you accidentally let out a rather erotic moan. Logan's breath hitches at the sound, before he’s growling into you.

    He pulls away from you rather abruptly as he grabs onto your thighs again, causing your lower back to hit the top of the washing machine as Logan lifts your panty-clad core to his face, throwing your legs over his shoulders. He leans in, dragging his teeth bluntly across the fabric, putting pressure on your clothed clit. He kisses over it afterward, right before he presses his face flush against you and takes a deep breath in through his nose- taking in the scent of your arousal, drowning his senses in it as he makes you writhe.

    “Logan!” You scold, completely embarrassed- and yet still aroused. Wetness pools as Logan lets out a deep chuckle in response, his eyes flickering up to meet yours right before he locks one long stripe up your underwear. You're struggling to keep it together, covering your face in your hands as you let out another moan.

    “The things you do to me, pretty girl.” Logan rumbles, finally pulling off the now-soaked panties. “Fuckin’ love breathing in that scent.” You swear if you could pass away right now, you might. 

    “I-It's- the flannel, right? I -ah- didn’t realize that you'd get so feral over it.” You say, peeking through your fingers as Logan closes in on you again, licking another long stripe up your pussy. It's so much more sensitive now that fabric wasn't in the way, and you can't help but writhe a little more in the uncomfortable position as he stops at your clit, giving you a hard and short suck before he stops, chuckling again.

    “Believe me, beautiful, you haven't seen feral yet.” Logan's words give you goosebumps, and he latches onto your clit again immediately. Fuck, did it feel so, so good. Logan's groans and hums against your clit sound so obscene mixed with the wet noises from your cunt. His rough tongue draws circles around your sensitive clit, every once in a while sliding a bit downward to slide past your lips and enter your plush walls. You have one hand covering your mouth as the other clenches the side of the running washing machine- scrambling for purchase. 

    Logan's rough hands trail up and down the inside of your thighs, letting you whine and whimper for him- begging him to give you just a little more. He teases you, brushing his knuckles just barely above your slit as he continues to eagerly suck and abuse the little nub in his mouth. 

    When he finally slides a single, thick finger inside of you, you can't help but let out a loud whine. He meets no resistance against your soaked walls, slowly stroking it in and out of you. Your walls flutter and cling to the digit, your hips bucking as he curls it inside of you. The action makes Logan laugh, his other arm wrapping around your thigh so he can press down on your hips, keeping them still. 

    He adds a second finger when he feels like it, now easing off your clit every once in a while as he feels you begin to get closer to your peak. He edges you like that only for a minute, letting his fingers scissor and stretch out your plush walls. 

    “P-please. Please please please.” You beg. The knot inside of you is waning, desperately trying to snap- and you're so, so close. Logan continues to suck on your clit, finally bringing you to the precipice of pleasure. 

    Stars dot your eyes as you cum, Logan's fingers and tongue not letting up as he works you through your pleasure. Logan eagerly licks up your cum as you do so, humming and groaning at the taste.

    You're panting when your hips finally stop shaking. Logan is too. His face is covered in your slick, and he curses when he looks up at you. The sight of you disheveled and breathless in his shirt is really getting to him. Logan pulls you down off of the washing machine carefully, kissing your temples as he keeps you steady, just until your legs stop shaking. 

    “ You okay?” Logan asks.

    “Better than okay.”

    “Perfect.” The words are hardly out of his mouth before Logan has you pushed against the wall of the laundry room, tits pressed against the wall as his hand spreads your folds from the back, clearing the way for him as he pulls his cock out of his pants. Like before, it surprises you, but as soon as your brain has caught up with your body you find yourself pushing your ass against him. Logan chuckles at your desperate action, sliding his cock against your soaked folds before he slowly begins to enter you.

    You let out a loud moan at the feeling of his thick cock stretching you out. Logan is trying to keep himself still to give you a moment to adjust, cursing again and again as he presses his face into your neck, laying kisses across the skin. He feels so right, pressed against and inside you like this. You're making it so much harder for him by desperately clenching down on him, your hips grinding back and forth as you coax him to move. Logan snarls at the action, one hand gripping your hip and the other wrapping around your waist as he thrusts sharply into you. The movement bumps you into the wall, and he begins to thrust eagerly into you.

    “Fuck, hold on, pretty.” Logan's pace is forceful, but not rough, smoothly gliding in and out of your plush walls as he growls and snarls into your ear. His pace is steady and not overwhelming, hitting that sweet spot inside of you just right every time.

    You're a moaning mess right now, mind fully taken over by the hot man snarling behind you, the fabric of the shirt bunching between his fingers as he holds you by the waist so tightly. Logan's flannel has been rumpled during the action, sliding down to expose your shoulder. His voice in your ear rumbles encouragements, praise, pet names. His hips slap against your ass with every thrust, sharp in comparison to the gentle kisses he places on your shoulder. 

    You can tell Logan is starting to get close when the pace of his hips begins to waver and change, speeding up as he works to reach his pleasure. His hand around your waist slides down to rub your clit, and he pushes himself flat against your back as he presses the two of you flush against the wall. Logan lets out a series of low grunts as he slams into you, his teeth biting into your shoulder sharply as he cums. You yelp at the sensation, hitting your pleasure just a moment after he does. 

    Logan grinds against you a few more times as he catches his breath, kissing the mark he's left on your shoulder when the metallic scent of blood hits his nose.

    “Sorry, sweetheart.” He says remorsefully, hands soothing the bruises on your hips. “I didn't mean to get carried away like that” You turn your head as far as you can, cupping his cheeks in one hand as you pull him forward to kiss you.

    “ s’ okay. It was hot.” You mumble. You turn around when he slips out of you, leaning forward into his chest. Logan smiles at you tiredly, his thumb tracing the mark on your shoulder.

    “Although, if you want me to fully forgive you, you could always finish the laundry!”

[moonyflesh]

What if Wolverine took you to a hockey game?

WARNINGS: (not much). no smut- just a playful set of imagines/headcannons — very fluffy and ‘lovey-dovey’ (small kisses and cursing).

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (‘Wolverine’) - (MARVEL/X-MEN)

🍺 .*.. 🏒

- At first you thought he was joking.

- i mean- can you imagine trying to squeeze his massive frame into one of those tiny, plastic stadium chairs?

- sure you know nothing about the “Calgary Flames”, but supporting the beast either way is entertaining enough as it is—

- (^) literally the worst person to sit around. he’s loud, obnoxious, (big), and curses like there’s no tomorrow.

- “fuckin- can you fuckin’ believe these pieces ‘uh shit? i totally could’ve fuckin’ made that fuckin’ shot. buncha’ bullshit ifya ask me.”

- he’s definitely big on stadium snacks. constantly has to get up and get more food (and beer).

- (^) the bar would 100% have to draw a limit on the amount of beer they can physically sell him.

- probably walks you through the basic rules of ice hockey, and/or the different players, and the fan-favorites.

- little forehead or cheek kisses when he needs to run to go to the bathroom or grab more food.

- one of his arms is slung around your shoulders at all times.

- throughout the game, he’s constantly glancing over at you- reading your facial expressions. are you enjoying yourself? do you know what’s happening? is this entertaining for you, too?

- definitely likes to show you (and your jersey) off.

- (^) forced you to wear a Flames jersey (that’s much to large on you) and is proud of you for “pickin’ the right fuckin’ team”— so what? at least you get his undivided attention.

- puts you on his shoulders so you both have a better chance of getting on the big screen.

- (^) and if you do? jesus, it makes his whole month. the second that camera pans to you two he’s already tongue-deep into your mouth, grinning like an idiot as you try to push him away from embarrassment.

- you totally go to the photo booth and take the most grainy, out-of-focus pictures known to man together in some shitty ice rink backdrop, (to which he insists you look beautiful- and sticks the entirety of the photo into his wallet).

- buys you a shitload of merch, including one of the collectible hockey pucks.

- claims to know some of the players personally (he’s never met any of them outside of the rink).

- distinctly shouts out each player’s first and last names when cheering them on.

- boos the other team, and their fans with zero shame whatsoever.

- the drive home depends on the outcome of the game.

- (^) The Flames lose? he’s not even mad- he’s just disappointed that that was all his team could manage for your first game. he promises to take you to more, though.

- (^) and if they win? he’s already discussing the ticket prices for the next game (if you’re willing to go with him again); excited grins tossed your way here and there as he makes sure you’re paying attention.

@trenchcoathunnybee08 this is dedicated to you! Sorry it took so long to finally get out (in some ways, it’s still a WIP). 🫶🏼

((if any of you would like to be added to my taglist, let me know through my inbox.))

[shrenvents]

Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️

A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)

Divided Attention

Professor Howlett II

Part one

Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public

Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.

From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.

The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.

With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.

But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.

As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.

What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.

Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.

...

The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.

They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.

It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.

A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.

His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.

Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.

"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.

I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.

As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.

Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.

He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.

Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'

Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.

So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.

It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.

I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...

While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.

Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.

"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."

"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.

"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.

"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.

Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.

I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.

"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'

I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.

"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.

Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.

He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.

"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.

"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"

His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.

Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.

"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.

My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.

Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.

"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”

When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”

Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.

"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.

"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.

"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.

Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."

"I haven't been avoiding you-"

I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.

When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"

"And what?"

"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."

I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.

My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.

"What?" He bites.

"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."

Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.

"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.

"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"

The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.

"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.

I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.

For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.

"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.

Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.

"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.

Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.

"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.

A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.

Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.

“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.

I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.

My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.

Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.

"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.

Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.

"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."

Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.

"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.

He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."

I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.

My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.

[lemonsprite]

𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 || 𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 (𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: he’s so sorry!!

Word count:

Warnings: angst I suppose <\3 (but also comfort) and not beta read TT I have horrible grammar

A/N: needed to put a break in bc this bitch is too long!!!!!!!! I want Hugh Jackman on a primal level

Logan’s back was killing him. He was hunched over a barstool, currently nursing a Pilsner while drowning in self pity- not like he had much else to do at the moment.

“I’m cutting you off man, you look like shit.” Remarked the bartender, looking down at Logan with sickening pity. “Go home.”

“Don’t have one.” Logan bite back, his voice no louder than a grumble as he sulked. That was a lie. He had a home, with Charles, and Scott, and Ororo, and a hundred other mutants but all of that was a faraway thought for Logan. No, all he really cared for right now was how much he missed your warm bed. He missed his home, your home.

The bartender raised a disapproving eyebrow at Logan and he could tell when he wasn’t wanted.

Groggily and very drunk, Logan stood from the barstool, holding onto the counter of the bar for help as he made his way to the front door, the bright illuminated ‘open’ sign causing his eyes to squint and the already tell tale signs of a killer hangover tomorrow to kick in.

Outside was dead silent, even the crickets seemed afraid to chirp in the presence of Logan as he stumbled his way down the street to an old rain rusted payphone, covered in shitty aged graffiti.

The humid summer air stuck to Logan’s skin, and he slapped at his neck, attempting to kill a pesky mosquito as he fumbled for his wallet.

Logan’s leather wallet that was held together by a single string only contained two things.

One- a very very expired drivers license, and two- a crinkled old Polaroid of you, smiling happily five years ago when you and Logan first met. On the back, scribbled in almost illegible chicken scratch was a slew of numbers, numbers his shaking fingers began to dial on the old payphone.

Logan brought the receiver up into the ear, doing the old song and dance when it came to shitty pay phones like these before the robot operator instructed him to say his name into the phone.

“It’s Logan, sorry to bother Bub… I know it’s late.” He mumbled quietly into the receiver, playing anxiously with the long coiled line of the phone.

Patiently he waited for one second, then two before the stress relieving sound of a click could be heard from the other end.

“Is everything okay Logan?” You asked, your voice soft, half asleep, and full of worry.

Logan paused for a moment, thinking over his next words as best as his intoxicated mind could.

“Yeah… yeah there’s just a lot goin’ on right now and I dunno…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just needed to hear your voice…”

He leaned against the phone booth, the receiver tucked securely into his shoulder as he realized how utter pathetic he must’ve looked currently.

“Where are you? Do you need help?” You questioned, your voice writhe with anxiety and he could hear you throwing on your bath robe and slippers, grabbing your car keys and unlocking the front door.

Logan felt horrible for crawling to you, begging for help when he was the one to push you away in the first place but another, very drunk, selfish side of himself yearned to hold you in his arms and sleep in once more on your queen size mattress.

“Nah. I don’t need help.” Logan finally decided, his voice a mixture of gruff stoicism and… something else.

There was a small pause. A moment of reconsideration.

“I’m at the phone booth across the bar.” He admitted, voice low and slightly embarrassed.

“I’ll be there in five.” You reply sternly, the phone line going dead with a familiar disconnecting click.

Logan couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. Even though he’d never admit it, some old still hopelessly in love part of him was happy to know you’d still be willing to drop everything at two AM and hunt him down at some dingy dive bar.

True to your word, within five minutes, Logan heard the noise of your old car approaching. The headlights illuminating the cement and causing Logan to squint. You pulled over, stopping a foot from the phone booth.

The cars window rolled down revealing you, your hair still tousled from sleep and your bathrobe barely clinging to your shoulders.

“Get in Lo’… you can spend the night at my place.” You frowned, pursing your lips as you gestured with your head for Logan to get into the passenger seat.

Logan’s usual stern expression melted away upon seeing you for the first time in what felt like forever. Your anxious expression matching his as he climbed into your car, feeling himself melt back into the seat like he’d never left.

“Lead the way bub.” He hummed coarsely, the seat creaking under his weight and his muscular body taking up a large portion of the cabin.

Now thoroughly sobered up, the drive home was filled with awkward silence, the tension so thick you could cut into it like butter. The roads were dark and your eyes stay glued to the road almost as if you were ignoring Logan’s presence.

The cars headlights cut through the dark, illuminating the deserted streets as Logan tapped his fingers against the edge of the window, his heart tight with a mixture of anticipation and nostalgia.

Logan stole glances now and again at your face. Taking in the familiar lines etched into your skin and the way you pursed your lips when concentrating.

“Been awhile since I’ve been here huh?” He asked, attempting to break the awkward silence as his chair creaked in protest when he attempted to lean back.

“Missed you Lo’.” You said softly, almost quiet enough for Logan to not hear. “I think about you every day… wether your alive or dead… happy or injured and bloody…”

Logan bite his lip, taken aback by the sudden sincerity of your words, not expecting that much vulnerability from you. He glanced over, his eyes meeting yours before quickly returning to the dark pavement road.

A cold pang of guilt curled in his stomach as he swallowed.

“Bub…” he started, clearing his throat gruffly. “I… didn’t want you to worry about me… y-… you know I’m always fine…”

Logan stumbled through his words, finding it tough to even wrestled them out of his throat.

He could see you thinking over his words, biting at your lip as you gaze turned disapprovingly towards the road. You obviously disagreed with him but kept your words to yourself as the drive continued on.

Eventually your car pulled into the driveway of your small home. Pulling the keys from the ignition, the engine putter to a stop as you climbed out of your car, slamming the door shut in a way Logan could tell was venting your anger.

Logan followed, standing quietly outside the car and staring up at your house just now realizing how much he’d missed all this. The familiarity of it all.

His keen senses picked up the scent of your home. A mixture of you and old wood. Logan shove his hands in his pockets and looked up at you with a strange combination of trepidation and anticipation.

“Come in, I’ll get you something warm to drink.” You offer quietly, fidgeting with your key ring to unlock the front door.

Logan followed you inside, his steel toed boots thumping against the hardwood floor. He took in the sight of the place, the walls and shelves filled with small trinkets and photos.

His gaze lingered on a photo of the two of you. It was an old photo, taken back in the early days of your relationship and something tore at his insides that night coming back vividly to him.

He cleared his throat and looked over at you, his face a mixture of emotions he couldn’t bother to hide at the moment.

“Still like the simple stuff huh?” Logan asked, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

“I like that photo.” You respond simply with a shrug, moving to the kitchen to grab two mugs.

setting the kettle on the stove and filling it with water, you dig in a nearby pantry, pulling out two bags of camomile. Logan was touched you’d remebered it helped him sleep better at night.

“I’m renovating the guest room Lo’ so uh…” you paused nervously, leaning against the kitchen counter for better balance. “You could sleep on the couch or um… my bed if that’s okay with you… although if you remember the couch is uncomfortable at shit.”

Logan took in the slight anxious tremble of your voice and attempted a smile to ease your worries. “Are you kidding? I’ll never forget that couch and I have the back problems to prove it.”

You watched you silently for the moment before continuing quietly.

“I’ll take the bed.”

“Good choice.” You complimented with an awkward smile, grabbing the steaming kettle and filling both mugs. “Do you still like milk with yours?” You asked absentmindedly, digging around in the fridge of your kitchenette.

Logan nodded. “Yeah same way Bub.”

He leaned his back against the counter, his gaze still fixed on you. This domestic scene felt surreal- you preparing tea for him, the soft electric hum of the fridge, and the intimate simplicity of it all.

Memories of exact copies of this night came flooding back to him. Countless nights of late-night conversations and cups of tea.

Once finished, you pushed the perfectly steeped cup of tea towards Logan, his fingers brushing against yours before taking a sip and glancing at him from across the kitchen.

“I’m worried about you Lo’.” You admitted quietly, staring at him from over the rim of you cup.

Logan took a large swig of his drink, using it as an excuse to avoid looking at you for a moment. When he did, he met your eyes, the worry in your gaze mirroring his own.

“I know you are.” He grumbled, voice stoic. “But I can handle myself Bub.”

“If you can why call me at two am!?” You bite back, glancing at Logan as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth.

Logan sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the mug in his hands. He knew you had a point. He knew he wouldn’t have called if everything was fine.

He took another sip of tea, the warm liquid soothing his gruff throat.

“It’s just… been a tough couple of weeks.” Logan admitted, voice suddenly quiet as his fingers traced the handle of his mug. “Just needed to hear your voice is all I guess…”

You glance at the tiled floor, thinking for a moment before speaking up.

“Why did you leave me Logan…” you asked quietly, forcing Logan to address the one question he didn’t want to consider.

The question hit Logan like a ton of bricks, the familiar shame and guild washing over him like a cold wave.

He looked away, jaw clenching as he struggled to find the words. He didn’t want to hurt you… didn’t want to bother you with all the issues that entailed loving a mutant. He didn’t- couldn’t hurt you.”

“It’s complicated.” He muttered, avoiding your gaze. “You’re better off without me, Bub.”

You frown at Logan, obviously taking offence to his words.

“Oh really?” You asked incredulously. “Am I better off tossing and turning every night worried that the next time I’d see you would be in a casket? Am I better off crying every night left wondering what I did wrong for you to leave me- to leave us?”

Tears began to fall from your eyes and roll down your cheeks, too preoccupied to brush them away.

Logan flinched slightly as your words struck deep. He could see the pain carved into your face and the tracks of tears caused by him.

He placed his practically finished mug of tea behind him, the soft thud of the porcelain echoing through the small kitchen. He took a moved, closing the distance between you two as he looked down at you with a mixture of sadness and regret.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispered, taking a deep breath and fighting the lump in his throat. “It’s me bub, im the problem.”

You refused to look at Logan, your eyes glued to the floor.

“I didn’t want you to leave…” you admitted quietly. “…I miss you.”

Logan let out a deep sigh, his heart feeling heavier than his weary shoulders and each syllable that escaped your mouth feeling like a swift dagger to his conscience.

His voice barely above a whisper, Logan answered. “I know you didn’t want me to leave. And I miss you too. More than you know.”

He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently, very gently touching your chin, turning you face towards him.

Logan’s heart ached as he saw the tears on your face, his calloused thumb trying gently to wipe them away, a slight tremble in his hand.

“Why are you crying over a knucklehead like me Bub?” He soothed, thumb tracing your jaw. “I’m not worth these tears.”

“I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you Logan.” You admitted solemnly, leaning into Logan’s touch. “And… and you left me in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye… I thought you’d gotten hurt… o-or worse…”

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he saw you nuzzle into his calloused palm. The raw emotion in your voice slicing through all previous walls he’d constructed around his heart.

He closed his eyes for a moment of solace, his rough hand cradling your face.

“I’m sorry.” Logan said in a broken whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The words came out like a prayer, filled with longing, guilt, and a drive for forgiveness from the only person Logan ever thought really mattered.

A moment of silence passed, Logan’s apology sinking deep into the walls of the kitchen until you spoke up.

“Can you stay till next morning Lo’?” You asked, voice scratchy from crying and shouting. “I’ll make bacon the way you like it… all crunchy n’ shit…”

A small smile tugged at Logan’s lips despite the heaviness in his chest. The mental image of you cooking breakfast for him in the early hours of morning was more comforting than he’d care to admit.

“You remember the way I like it huh?” He askedC his heavy voice tinged with the slight hint of humor.

“Never forgot.” You replied, giving Logan a sad smile as you stepped away from his close proximity.

“Anyways… it… it’s been a long night we should get some rest…” you suggested, gesturing with you head to the bedroom down the hall, a place Logan was all too familiar with.

A wave of nostalgia hit Logan like a truck as he entered your bedroom. Memories of many sleepless nights filled with you in his arms were seared into his mind.

Hi eyes flicked around, taking in all the subtle changes since he’d last been here- the new pillows, the different floral bedsheets, but beneath it all it was still the same, it was still you, it was still home.

You sat on the edge of the bed, kicking off your slippers and removing your socks, tossing the clothes somewhere on to the other side of the room like you and Logan used to do every night before having fun.

Logan shrugged off his shirt, revealing his scarred tanned chest as he climbs underneath the sheets and duvet, settling in next to you, your back facing to him.

This routine was all too familiar to him.

Logan wanted to pull you closer, to hold you against him but he hesitated, not sure what your boundaries were at the moment. Logan yearned for your touch, even though he’d been the one to walk away.

“Can… can you hold me Logan…” you asked quietly, your voice resounding in the silent bedroom.

A wave of relief washed over Logan as he shifted closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest, his nose burying into your hair inhaling the familiar scent of you.

“Yeah.” He whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “I can hold you.”

Logan could feel the tension leaving your shoulders as you melted into his touch causing him to hold you closer, his arm instinctively wrapping around your tummy.

He’d forgotten how much he missed this, the simple pleasure of having your back to his chest, your warmth in his embrace.

Logan nuzzled his face into your hair, breathing deeply. “God I missed this.” He murmured, voice filled with regret and relief.

The room was dead silent, all except for the quiet ticking of a nearby wall clock.

“Can’t you stay Logan?” You asked into the silence of the room, your voice barely above a whisper. “We can continue where we left off… I still have all your clothes in my closet.”

Logan’s heart clenched in his chest, his head and heart at war within himself. The temptation was strong, painfully so. But the guilt, the knowledge of what could befall you made him hesitate.

“It’s not that simple bub.” His voice rough as he muttered quietly into your ear. Logan’s hand, however, betrayed him as I gently caressed your hip, calloused thumb tracing patterns into your skin.

“Logan I’ll be good.” You pleaded quietly, leaning into his touch. “I won’t do anything to make you leave me again I promise.”

Your raw emotion sliced through any remaining restraint Logan had. He could feel the guilt and love for you wrestling for dominance in his chest.

“You were never the problem you understand that don’t you?” He said, voice low and deep. “It’s me- not you- always me.”

He exhaled sharply, fingers digging into your skin as he held you impossibly closer.

“You’re making it hard to resist Bub.”

Logan could feel all remaining defences crumbling as you turned in his grasp to face him, one of your hands cradling his jaw as he looked down at you.

“I love you Logan.” You whispered.

“I don’t deserve you.” He muttered, voice breaking. “Never did.”

“Say it back.” You pleaded, leaning your head on to his chest as sleep threatened to take you. “I need to hear it.”

Logan’s chest tightened at your request, knowing he could never deny you, could never hold back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

“I love you. Still. Always.” He said, burying his face in your hair once more.

You hummed in contentment at his answer, happy to finally hear what you’d be needing for months. Comforted by the closeness of Logan, your eyes fluttered close and before he knew it your breathing had evened out to a slow steady rhythm and you were fast asleep, nestled in Logan’s arms.

Logan stayed awake for a while longer, content to listen to your slow breathing and quiet heartbeat. He held you close, glad to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

He didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve your love after all he’d put you through. Your words ‘I love you’ echoing in his mind like a burden but also simultaneously a comfort.

But Logan couldn’t deny how good it felt to be back again, to have you in his arms again, and the sense of peace that washed over him you laid together.

He knew the sun would rise soon enough, and he knew that this time, he’d stay.

[cultven]

hii i love reading yor fics sososo much T_T<333

I'd like to request a fic where Logan dreams that he hurts the reader, almost killing them. The reader notices that he's having a nightmare and wakes him up, he's disoriented and in panic, but when he realized what just happened he is incredibly relieved to see that reader is ok and alive. Maybe he even breaks down and cries, which really shocks the reader cuz they arent used to seeing Logan like this 🥺 Then the reader comforts him and takes care of him until he's back asleep.

As It Should Be

Wolverine X Reader

Content: Comfort, crying, poor Logan cannot catch a break, but you're there to dig him out of his sadness hole, he loves you a lot, lots of fluff while comforting him

Word Count: 1.39k

Warnings: Some graphic violence during the nightmare segment

a/n: Thank you for the kind words! This one honestly got a little graphic in terms of gore, but nothing too bad, so hopefully that’s ok! This was fun to write, enjoy!

No. What had he done? 

Logan stood in a pile of debris and rubble, his white tank top and jeans now caked in blood that wasn’t his. Claws refusing to retract, Logan felt utterly hopeless against his own body. His actions weren’t his own as he trudged towards the only person left alive; you. You were scared, that much was clear by your facial expression and hasty movements to crawl backward away from the mutant. 

“Logan… this isn’t you, please.” You plead, eyes darting around the scene to find help, anyone that is still alive or conscious. All you could take in was the decimated mansion and the mauled corpses of your loved ones. What had taken over Logan? Why did he destroy the very things he risked his life for countless times? 

As Logan looked into your frightened eyes his heart clenched, knowing what was coming next. He just wishes he could stop it. Watching himself tear through his other family hurt like hell, but having to watch you die he didn’t think he could bear it. You were his entire world, the only thing that could ground him when he fell down the pits of self-destruction. He would forever kill himself before harming you. But this version of himself had other plans. 

He trudged over, claws glistening in the light of fire around them. “No, no no no…” You chant, still trying to escape the man but your legs are rendered useless due to your paralyzing fear. With one swift movement, Logan begins to tear through flesh and muscle, watching in horror as his hands mutilate his love against his will. You could do nothing but lay there, screaming in pain, your mutant ability keeping you alive for longer than you wanted to be. Logan wished he was the one being gutted. In a way, he was. Anyone else, anyone but you deserved his wrath. 

Tears clung tightly to his eyes as his hand retracted from your body, lining up for the final shot to the head. As the blade commences its soar towards your skull, Logan jolts up from a lying position and hastily takes in his surroundings. It was dark, he was under a blanket of sorts, and oh, he was in your bedroom. Had it only been a nightmare? No, it was far too cruel and realistic to have been. Even Logan’s mind wasn’t so callous to make him live through such a horror. So then, it must have been real? Logan begins to hyperventilate, raising his hands to eye level. His claws were away, and his rough skin was clean of blood. But, as he blinked, grotesque images flashed through his mind. Sick crimson blood, your blood, begins to stain his hands, drying in a disgusting reddish-brown. He immediately jumped out of bed, went into the ensuite bathroom, and scrubbed his hands raw. 

“No, no no no.” He chanted under his breath as he tried to scrape off the non-existent material. The cold water was not enough to ground him back to reality, Logan eventually gave up and put him back to the skin, sliding down towards the floor to cradle his head in his hands. Thanks to the sound of the water running in the bathroom and Logan’s hard footsteps, you eventually stir awake. At first, nothing seemed wrong, maybe he just had to use the bathroom. But after the sound of continuous water for five minutes you grew increasingly concerned. Deciding to confront the man you carefully walk up to the bathroom door and gently knock three times, not to startle him during whatever he’s doing. 

“Lo?” It was only one syllable, but your sweet voice saying his nickname out loud was enough to send Logan scrambling. The door eagerly burst open, and when it did the sight you were met with shocked your heart. There was Logan on the ground, clearly disheveled, eyes bloodshot and teary. “Oh baby, what happened?” You coo, going to take a step forward but immediately retreating seeing Logan flinch. 

“You’re- you’re real, right?” Logan tentatively asks, sounding scared. Of course, you were real, why wouldn’t you be?” 

“Yes, love.” You stay put in your place. You didn’t want to upset him further.

“No… I ripped you apart. You died by my hands.” You resist the urge to outwardly exclaim how ridiculous he sounded before realizing he more than likely had a nightmare. Logan was prone to bad dreams, but none ever shook him quite as much as this. The only good thing that came out of the consistent night terrors was that you now knew how to soothe him in times like these. 

“I’m right here my love. I’m not hurt. See? I’m perfectly okay.” Your voice stays calm and soothing, not wanting to startle him further. “Touch my hand. Feel my skin. I am right here.” Usually, the sensation of touch grounded him from this distressed state, but this time he seemed hesitant to even look in your direction. 

“I can’t. I might hurt you again.” Logan looked so small and it broke you. He was huddled into himself, still looking at you untrusting. The thought of himself harming you any further plagued his mind, twisting his stomach and making him want to vomit. You were his world, his everything. He curses his body for the immortality that was bestowed upon him because if anything happens to you he wants to follow right behind. 

Realizing you may seem intimidating due to the fact you’re standing tall over his curled-up body you lower yourself and sit criss-cross applesauce across from him. Putting your hand out in between your two bodies you silently sit there, waiting for Logan to take this at his own pace. After a few minutes, Logan seems calm enough to touch your hand. Fingertips only brush at first, then a loose handhold, then a firm grasp on each other. Before either of you knew it you were fully embracing, Logan nuzzling his head into your neck. He needed to take you in every sense, to prove this was real. His nose took in your intoxicating perfume, his hands gripped your curves, his ears heard your soft breaths release from your mouth, and when he pulled back his eyes took in the sight of you. You were as stunning as always even with your messy hair and tired eyes. You were real, you were here, and you were his. 

Seeing as your boyfriend has calmed down you decided to relocate to a more comfortable area. “Let’s get off this gross floor, okay love? Let’s go to bed.” You whisper, carefully tugging him along to your shared bed. Once you two got settled down you were instantly back in his strong arms, protecting you from the rest of the world. You thought all was said and done for the night until Logan spoke up. 

“You were so scared. I made you scared.” He hated seeing you that way. It hurt him. What hurt worse was that he was the cause of it. He now understands it wasn’t real, but your expression was so gut-wrenching he couldn’t shake it off. 

“Logan I know you would never hurt me on purpose.” You reassured him. “Except maybe when you squeeze me to death with your bear hugs.” Logan chuckled a little bit, your humor always lightens the mood. You lay in silence for a bit, almost dozing off until you hear a voice next to you. 

“Thank you for dealing with me.” You smile, leaning over and kissing the man gingerly on the cheek. 

“It’s what I signed up for my love. Besides, you could never be a bother to me.” He smiles back, a rare sight to anyone but yourself. “I love you, Logan.”

“I love you too.” With that resignation you two cuddle, arms and legs entangled with one another’s. Eventually, Logan is lulled back to sleep while listening to the steady beat of your heart. Instead of another nightmare, he is met with a blissful dream of the two of you living together on a mountain, away from all the violence and harm the world holds. Just as it should be. 

[pushingdaisies1]

Its never too late baby . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Mutant Reader >_<

(✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> You were always someone who utilized your strengths. Physical and mental, you were a jack of all trades. You were a true hero to the students you taught within the school. Amongst the other X-men, you would always be one of them. But you had this little tick, that always annoyed Logan no doubt. You were a secretive person, too secretive for even his "standards." For others, you were a pillar of nurture and guidance. He saw your well-meaning nature from miles away. It was almost sickening to him how you would stretch your capabilities out to no end. He would never deny that he could be selfish. Sometimes it's more worth it to save your spine, than risk it for someone else. Though with the problems being thrown the team's way as of recent, he always saw you spinning your wheels. You wouldn't reason with him even when he of all people would lend you a shoulder to cry on. Even the students at the school could see it. With their childish snickers and big-eyed looks at your comfortable banter with Mr. Howlett whenever he helped with class. You were in love with the Wolverine. Again, out of all the Canadians - him? It wasn't something like a schoolgirl crush. It was an infatuation sort of deal. You burned for him mind body and soul. You would pretty much follow this scoundrel to the ends of the earth, even the end of your life if prompted. Which causes something to break between you two after you risk your livelihood for your family. The people that made up your heart, including Logan.

(✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> hi party people!! I saw so much of the sweet reception for my first ever logan piece , so tysm!! Genuinely from the bottom of my heart the love means so much. As I’m currently going through my x-men marathon time if you will , I’ve had this idea brewing for a while. Thankfully the resurgence of logan content has given me the push needed to formulate this yk! This isn’t a part two to my previous logan post. That will be coming very shortly, but this is its own thing. Timeline wise... erm.... idrk a good place to put this SIGH. I'm thinking like in between x2 and the last stand. also one last final note , the title I took from Chemtrails over the country club. specifically the one lyric - "it's never too late baby so don't give up." felt like an appropriate whimsy title, nd I have been hearing that song everywhere lolz. Anyways, toodles!!! ᐢᗜᐢ (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Descriptions of blood and graphic injury , they/them pronouns for reader !! , mentions of major character deal , Logan cares too much ... which could mean nothing , ur comatose for like the good first chunk of this , Jean and u have LORE!!!!! (not rlly but u and her have backstory beefers/her "passing" affect reader 100%) , mourning/grief, And that's on having no healing powers!! Buh-dun-csh!!

Your fall from grace was quick on the battlefield. This was supposed to just be any regular mission. You were using it as a way to clear your head after all. But you took a leap too far and now here you were, plummeting. The issue at hand was apprehended, sure. But you didn't leave the fight unscathed. Your vision grew too spotty for you to even make out your surroundings. Your hearing too even started to fog. Looking down, somehow or some way a large-sized piece of shrapnel metal had made it into your torso. Right in the sweet spot that was not in the lungs. Your legs began to wobble, losing your footing slowly but surely. You didn't realize your body was falling to the ground. The warm feeling rushing through you was the blood exiting from your hefty wound. It was ironic the last thing your eyes met before collapsing. Logan turned back around immediately once he noticed you weren't clamoring to the jet. His heart sunk to his stomach as he immediately sprung over to you. By the time your head had smacked against the ground, you went out. Your fingertips began to buzz, your fatigue lifting all of a sudden. All of the hurt and weight on your shoulders lifted? You felt freer than before, with a piece of debree stuck inside of your body no more. Even if some people regarded mutants as the next step in human evolution, a majority were still stuck with fleshy bodies. If only you were made out of steel. In this momentary unconsciousness, you thought about everything that went wrong. Your existence as a whole, joining the school. Moving up from student to teacher at Professor Xavier's school, like Scott and Ororo you were one of the first. Regarded as maybe one of the most useful of the bunch. No one could ever compete with Storm, the literal incarnate of a goddess. You thought of her as your eyes closed, embraced with the warm memories of your early days within the school.

The professor was never one to play favorites among his students. But when he searched you out and arrived with a less conniving Magneto at your door, it was clear you were special to him and his cause. From that day forward you were seen as a pillar of hope to a lot of the students. To some, you were like a mother, to others a guardian who would save them no matter the risk. To Logan Howlett - "The Wolverine", you were a coward. A coward that he admired. A coward he respected due to the ways you handled... stress in the simplest of terms. From the day he met you, he wandered around the halls of the mansion bewildered and confused. Something about you stuck out. He would've done something with this urge sooner if his eyes weren't honed in on another.

From day one you were not surprised how fast he fell and yearned for Jean. The woman you saw as your confidant, your best friend, she was magnificent. Smart and poised all in one with a strong set of mutant abilities. She was on the same power level as the professor, which made sense for their connection.

For living in Jean's shadow, you didn’t hate it. You were her right-hand man. Your balance was comforting, she was like your sister. The professor in small quiet moments of honesty to you liked to compare you to him and Magnus. When times were simpler they weren’t at opposing ends of the mutant kind spectrum. Yours and Jean's dynamic made you feel at ease with yourself. How could you worry? Your identity became a part of hers a long time ago. Logan saw more to that with you. Sure you could nag a lot of the time, and you always barked up his tree whenever he found ways to smoke on school grounds. But you just had this pull for him. He'd always find his way to see you first whenever entering a room. His brash and gritty attitude always got all mushy around you. He over time grew a lot more fond of the smallest details when it came to you. He was an amnesiac, his past only bits and pieces. But you made him feel grounded. You cherished his growth in ways no one else had. You were the reason why he was so drawn to the "now" of life. He needed that in times like this. He couldn't keep up for long after the realization that Jean was gone finally sunk in. Drowning at his one-sided attraction, the longing that he could've done more, you pulled him right out from that rut. Thank god that the two of you combined had horrible sleep schedules. His nightmares still stirred while you were suddenly afflicted with these with the memories of being on that jet when it wouldn't take off. That same pain rocketed through you every night as you were haunted by the sight of Jean finally swept into the oncoming flood. The feeling of grief ricocheted throughout the entire school. But you found your way to stay afloat. It was Logan, which you never thought of yourself admitting. But truth be told it was him. He was the most anchoring thing around you. Ororo distanced herself for the first month, while Scott cracked under the pressure of grief. Late nights dashing around the campus halls to the kitchen, out to the court where you two just talked. You had never seen him talk so much until you two became each other's support. It made you feel better seeing him smile more. Especially when it was at you. Again, you would never utter that truth EVER. At least that's what you thought. But his smile was a nice reminder of all of the light he held inside of him. As much as he despised ... everything, he was still so nurturing in his own ways. Nightmares were an excuse for him to be next to you. Nightmares were his excuse to hold you tight to his chest. The pain of loss was a collective "excuse" between the two of you to just .. be close.

Soon though, this ideal predicament between you both started to crack. Because even though she was dead, you still knew you would always be inferior. It may be all in your head but the hate kept you driven. It kept you driven but also mad. Small things would set you off soon enough. You knew deep down whenever he'd look into your eyes, it was a nice reminder of Jean. Even with how much he denied it when you came to him in tears, your bitter pain and grief clouded your judgment.

Logan saw that even with his help you were still hurting. He didn't want to get involved in it entirely as some of it was your own demon. But he saw how bad your spiraling was and still wouldn't accept his help. Not even from Ororo or Scott, not even the professor. Neither of you would admit who started the argument. It was late, and you were tired from pushing yourself to grade papers. Logan couldn't sleep and wandered his way to your classroom of course. The conversation was fine until he mentioned the problem. Your problem which you didn't want to deal with right now. As you were only running on a few hours of sleep. But even with Logan's usual "take and give no fucks" attitude, he knew he needed to push. You were slowly shutting yourself off this time, and he didn't expect himself to be a part of that mix. It was all a misunderstanding, but the two of you were angry and fire was thrown.

Your shared feelings were complicated. This whole ordeal with him brought out the "worst parts" of your love for him. He too was dealing with his internal dilemma. How could he move on from Jean and you were still latched onto the idea of her? It was a stupid question that was brought up in a Logan way, which of course caused the spat to escalate. His poor mistake was what he shouted. Already with the fear of waking one or even all of the students, you hated what he even dared to utter. "We're friends, you need to calm down about this whole obsession thing bub!" Originally you were thinking of just heading to bed. You were too tired to continue on with this constant bickering. But that's when you exploded on him. You regretted every last word you said to his face. Because it was you speaking your honest truth. About what you felt for him, about your hurt and your pain. How Jean was practically your lifeline. Losing her was like losing a piece of yourself. Especially since you rubbed it in about the kiss he and her shared. That you had seen and that made you sick to your stomach. A couple hours later she was dead. Your heightened emotions make you feel almost dizzy. The more you talked the more you realized his expressions distinct shift. As he was reaching out for you, you immediately swatted his arm askew. He didn't realize he hated to see you cry as much as he did until now. With broken sobs, you ran out of your classroom. The papers once stacked neatly were now laid messily all over your desk. You made sure to keep quiet. What broke your heart even more was a half-awake Rogue you ran into. She looked even more awake seeing your distraught state. Her feet tip-toed against the wooden floors of the hall before she looked at you. A big reason you and Logan were so close too, was because of Rogue. She was a good kid, he always rubbed off on her. He told you everything about how he and Rogue met. You were so enamored hearing him recount even the foggiest of memories. It could even be arguments with Scott he had, you'd just sit there with wide eyes as you listened. His word became your gospel. It warmed you to your core hearing him almost sound like a dad. He had looked out for her from the beginning. You always tried to do the same even when he left for Alklai Lake for answers.

It was so silly when she had practically pushed you and Logan to talk. She was just a kid and you two took up the almost suto role of her protectors. Friend or parent, she too found two trusted people to confide in. So you immediately went into "teacher mode" as soon as she saw you with watery eyes. She looked puzzled when her face met yours. You calmed down her storm of questions as she sputtered on and on. What's wrong? , is something happening? Are you okay? The hug you shared was one of the last meaningful hugs you had with another living being. You practically cradled her in your arms as you helped her calm down. She looked up at you, her larger brown eyes almost like the ones of a puppy. "Please don't be lying to me... y'know ah don't like liars." She whispered softly, her bubbly southern accent quiet. Your heart broke into a couple more pieces as you lied through your teeth. With a content nod, you bidded her a goodnight. Turning back to your room to drown your sorrow in god knows what. It had only been a good couple of months after Jeans' death that a mission arose. The X-men were laying low after everything at the base. For the school's and students' sake. But it was always on time when something bad happened for the team to fix. Old enemies came a-knocking and this time it wasn't Magneto. It was all supposed to be an in-and-out operation. You immediately clamored to get your hands dirty once again. You and Logan hadn't been talking for the last couple of days. Not even meeting in the dead of night to speak to another. You longed to hear about his afternoons subbing with Storm. This was your chance to regain some well-needed level-headedness. The thrill of doing what's right for a better tomorrow always made you feel better The mission even got Scott to come out of his puddle of mourning. Making you feel even better seeing your good friend so triumphant as he quickly clamored for his uniform. You and Logan didn't even brush shoulders as Storm and Scott dashed off to prepare the jet for takeoff. Everything should have gone fine. You should have all made it out alive. Every single one of you, that's what you had planned. Your lapse in judgment will always be your curse. Because now here you were, in the lap of the man that made your stomach churn. That made you feel LIKE that silly schoolgirl feeling you despised. Snapping back to reality, you realize where you are currently laid. Logan's eyes eased from his previous panicked look of fear as he saw you conscious. You were still bleeding but it seems that with quick medical attention either one of them got it to lessen. Your heart raced as you felt the warmness of his hands as they pressed against your cheeks. "Come on, there you go. Just focus on me." He cooed to your heaving chest. In the far back of the jet, you couldn't see Ororo or Scott. What you could see though was the remnants of blood on Logan's suit. He must have carried you off of the rubble and into the X-jet. Your smile was nothing compared to the horrid wince that left you. Finally, after this long moment of ease, the pain set in.

Going down to hold your gut, you shuddered as your vision all of a sudden wavered. You took in a sharp breath as finally, you noticed how in bad shape you were. Red filled your palm as you shuddered. Thankfully Logan noticed you and your shaky breath and immediately gripped your hand. Even in this state, you were currently in, you would always be able to focus on him. "I know, I know it's scary. You got hit pretty bad, but it's okay. Just focus on me and you'll be okay? I have you." He encouraged softly with that comforting rasp in his throat. His eyes were shaken and his lip was firm. Though his mood lightened somewhat because at least now you were awake.

You tried to speak but you were so weak. That same fatigue stung you as you stumbled over your words. He cradled you in his arms as he kept his eyes only on you. Your weary mind still around belittling you, another one of your eerily humane curses. He saw your chest quicken and lip quiver as your eyes began to lull, you were struggling. "Hey .. don't strain yourself - what is it?" He too began to worry as you saw his vulnerability bloom. Finally your chest steady as you took in one big breath of air. You let out the one thing keeping you from slipping back into rest in one huff. "Don't let me die, asshole." The asshole part came out more garbled from you after you coughed out your last words. Your last words before your eyes fell closed. For some reason, your hearing stayed for just a while longer. In and out, you could hear him cursing under his breath. The last thing you hear is Logan's panicked shouting at Scott, "Can this hunk of metal go any faster?!"

Finally, after so much pain, there was quiet. Peace and quiet after your constant heartache. You felt freed from the chains of reality. From birth to now, now seemed like your death. You left your current reality with a bitter-sweet smile as you felt consciousness swarm over you.

You couldn't feel how long you were out. Oh, but Logan could. Six weeks you lay in the infirmary. With some sort of miracle and hope, Ororo was barely able to stabilize you. The team rushed back into the mansion in panic as your wounds were assessed. But no, you couldn't feel the panic that coursed through your loved ones as you lay so peacefully. You didn't know your heart rate was being tracked. You were stable but anyone could guess it'd take you a while to re-reach consciousness. That your accident broke the barely well Scott Summers. But most of all it affected Logan to the core. He felt his world shake under him as he finally realized what had just happened. Something snapped in a man so stuck in his ways. Those words you said to him before you went back down. They were short but in the moment meant so much. Not to mention the fact that even Logan, so careless and free, was guilty. Every time he came back just to see you, he wanted to curl over and into you. Just like how he mourned Jean, he mourned you. Though .. he couldn't because you were technically still here. He may have not noticed it but everyone else could. The lack of your presence hindered him the worst. He missed the way you'd bother him out of the blue during the quiet time around the school. He missed you telling him about your life. He missed the shitty snort you did when you laughed too hard at one of his bad jokes. He missed seeing you happy. He missed seeing you move around. Pestering students for turning in assignments late or cheating. He missed the feel of your lips against his forehead when his nightmares of Jean flared up. He missed the way you looked at him. The way you saw him not only as a man but as himself. He didn't know how to admit it but he.. missed you. He missed you so bad and it was eating away at him. He spent hours out of his day visiting you. Like what you two always did when you were alone, he talked. About his day, what he ate, and even the lessons he overheard. The school got even quieter with you gone and he hated it. He felt bitter and broken, he didn't want to feel like that. He especially missed the way he felt with you. Almost like being on cloud nine. He finally understood the pain you felt when Jean died. This time on a more intimate level than he'd like to admit. He felt like the moon was ripped away from him after the sun. Now he was just the lonely tide, washing away against the shore until you returned. Ororo did all she could to help. All she could do was maintain your physical well-being as your body healed with rest. Logan hated the wait. The time you spent not walking around the halls of the school was maybe one of the worst times in his life. Since it hit him so deep on a real level. In this array of pain and even more guilt, he felt something dawn on him as you were still comatose. He was in love with you, Logan was in love with you. He felt like an idiot but the realization would always stay true. No matter how stupid he felt. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew. In the middle of his thought process, he heard the swift slide open of the infirmary doors.

Right now he was standing over you. The one thing that kept his spirits high about your recovery was the gentle rise and lower of your chest. He didn't have to look behind him to know it was Storm. She too had taken her time checking in on your unconscious form. He sighed as she walked up right beside him. She gently cupped the examination table where your body would lay. She looked down at her hands with a bitter-sweet smile on her lips. She looked over to Logan, who was at a pause with himself. She decided to finally break the long silence. "You know they'll be fine, right?" She hummed as she glanced up to look over you. He chuckled softly as his brow pinched. His chuckle came out more like a rugged scoff. "I know, this just feels weird." He sucked in a breath of stale air. "It was funny the first night you arrived at the mansion.." Storm drew up a memory of that fateful night. "As soon as I and Scott brought you in, they immediately volunteered to help Jean down here with your examination. They were always enamored with your set of abilities. You were one of a kind to them especially, I suppose." Now his hands gripped into the sides of the examination table. He looked down, in pity of you and himself. How could he be so blind? Storm butted in once more as she noticed his demeanor shift. "All I'm saying is, they'd be happy to know how much you worried." He nodded in response, reminiscing when things were good. From your first encounter to now, his heart warmed. "I'd do it for anyone else." He gritted out as he bit back a smile. The truth was he was still in agony about Jean's loss. It felt wrong to love you as he had longed for her after all of this time. But you felt like a whole different story. He didn't have to sit in agony knowing that no matter what his love would always be with another. You always gave him the time and day, hell even down to the minute to just be honest. He needed you at his side no matter what you were to him. Maybe you were more than a friend, maybe he was crazy about you, but you understood him. In a way maybe Jean never had. Ororo knew he needed more time so she complied with the awkwardness in the air. "I'll give you some more time. Rest easy Logan, they'd want that." She insisted before making her way out of the infirmary. He immediately looked down back at you, before looking back at the monitor tracking your heart. He sighed, biting into his lip. He stuttered the only thing that had been keeping him sane since he last felt your eyes open. "Don't fail me now dimples... I need you." He gritted as his teeth were practically ground into his gums. It has become a regular part of his routine now. Once the students were back in their dorms for the night, down to the infirmary he goes. He could never be tired of seeing you at rest. Seeing you okay and not in pain. He just wished he could hear you speak. He hoped that you could hear his pleas for you to wake.

As much as he longed for you he just bided his time. Like the fool he was, like the idiot he felt like when you made him so weak. You made him feel the most human he ever could feel.

That day was supposed to be a normal day. Classes had been more and more brief. After the loss of Jean and you being "put out." But he did not expect to see what he did next. Going into the elevator to head downstairs, to of course see you as always. He was ready to talk about what you missed away and so on. His chest tightened once he saw what was right in front of him. It was you, you were walking? You were awake and on your own two feet. Your midsection was still bandaged but at least you were standing up straight. But then it finally clicked. Wait, you shouldn't even be walking around right now?!

He immediately ran to steady you once your expression went more absent. "Welcome back to the land of the living." He roughly inquired with a small, pleased grin. "I feel like shit, so don't start with me Wolvie." You gritted out with that smile that made him too feel all good on the inside. Quickly, his arms calmly wrapped around you. He longed for your embrace for too long. It wasn't like you were fighting him when he enacted this. You wrapped your arms around him too. He made sure not to squeeze too tight with your bandages and all. A gentleman must stay mindful, he could recall you poking at him as he had a beer bottle half hidden in his jacket.

Your head gently rested in the crook of his neck. That quiet he hated so much before when seeing you in the infirmary was warmer now. He liked the peace and quiet between the two of you when you were there WITH him. After some minutes passed, you met him back face to face. You eyes lingered as you watched the way he swallowed in with composure. You had longed for him to see you. Finally, all the puzzle pieces were clicking, and with your luck all at once. You knew before this would have never happened. It felt wrong and almost hurtful for you to be doing this. But go big or go home I guess. It was you who initiated it, and he gratefully complied. Still keeping you steady, once your lips met his hand immediately went to cup your cheek. In the bliss shared, all of a sudden it felt right. The tender embrace of your lips with his felt good. It was hungry and it was liberating. You could feel his heart beating out of his chest as quick gasps for air were taken. "I'm sorry." He uttered out, forehead against yours. "I know." You said with a sanguine look in your eye. "I love you." He uttered again at a rapid pace. "I know." You purred, your eyes looking back into his hazy ones. Things would always be complicated between the both of you. But deep down you had hope. Maybe not now, someday things could just be normal between you and The Wolverine. That's all you wanted and that's all you dreamed of. Yours and his timing by all means was horrible. So it wasn't surprising this delightful moment got interrupted by Scott of all people. You and Logan looked back, hands immediately darting off of one another. Time to address THAT later.

Scott's mouth fell agape as he began to regret coming down here in the first place. He readjusted his glasses with a small scowl. "Well hello to you too, and Logan." He turned his head to give him that same look. "Wanted to check on you but clearly -" He made sure to put a specific emphasis on 'clearly.' "That job has been overtaken by him.. I'll get Ororo." Before either you or Logan could interrupt him, Scott was already pressing buttons up to the main floor. Now that it was just the two of you bubbling laughs were shared. You felt finally okay. You felt like yourself after those months of nothing but remembrance. You and The Wolverine wormed back into conversation as you could finally talk BACK to him. Another thing you wouldn't ever admit was that yes, you did hear him. His gentle words would always be your favorite secret. After that display of affection though, your and Logan's bond never stayed just a little secret after that. Even after all the trial and error, and the more soon to come, you finally had another moment. Another moment that you could look at when you are older and with more grays on your head. Logan Howlett was yours, no matter how much the universe wanted to throw you around a loop. You'd always have him by your side, till the end of time. Nothing would stop you from cherishing this connection. Not even the burning phoenix crackling over the horizon. You and Logan against time baby.

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

ravish pt.2

hitchhiker!readerxperv!loganhowlett

a/n: thankyou so much for all the love on ravish, it means a lot. in this one, i focused a little more on the set up of their connection and less on the sex part to give their relationship more depth. part three will eventually be in the works, but i hope you guys like this one<3

wc: 3.6k

NSFW

18+ MDNI | alcohol usage, age gap, oral sex and sexual themes

summary: the last thing y/n remembers was being in Logan's car after being picked up by him. How did she get to this motel room, where is he?

au: 1970s

Your brain buzzed the entirety of the drive to El Paso.

You hadn't fully recovered yet from your mindblowing orgasm in the backseat earlier. However, you felt better because you no longer had that aching pressure between your legs.

Logan had taken care of that before the long drive ahead. He could smell the arousal off of you the second you entered the car which made driving just too hard to concentrate on. With a simple look at you, it's as if he could tell that's exactly what you needed, and he gave it to you.

The both of you managed to make the 6-hour drive without any other detours.

Shortly after pulling out of the woods he had stopped at a nearby store and bought you both something to eat, he mentioned he couldn't hear the music over your stomach growling.

His soft rock cd's filled the silences as you both drifted into your individual trains of thought.

Once in a while, you'd pass him cigars from the dash when he was due for another. 

He'd mumble a 'thanks, sweetheart.'

At one point he had folded his flannel as a makeshift pillow so you could nap your hangover away. 

He'd quietly cuss under his breath trying to keep his road rage to a minimum and not wake you up. 

"Kid, wake up." He shook you gently. 

Your eyelids were glued shut.

"Kid," He prompted you again. 

You could hear him and were awake but your body remained in that coma-like state, catching up on some overdue rest. Being on the road constantly meant you didn't eat or sleep as much as you were supposed to.

Logan let out a grunt and got out of the car, turning the front and opening your passenger door; He uncliped your seatbelt and carried your bridal style to a motel room door.

He unlocked the door with a swift motion of one hand as the other held you in his chest.

He kicked it open and gently placed you on the bed before returning to the car to grab your bag.

He closed the door and kicked off his boots. The mattress dipped where he sat on the foot of the bed.

He carded his fingers through his hair with a huff, taking a peek at your sleeping body. 

Your shoulders rose and fell as you gently breathed, a few strands of your hair in your face, floating with the exhale from your nose. You looked so peaceful, and... innocent.

He still wondered what a young thing like you was doing travelling across the country alone, it was a reckless choice on your part, putting yourself in danger every single day. Why were you doing this to yourself?

Logan's trust in people had been long gone for some time now, and he couldn't help but feel responsible for making you realize that maybe the world isn't such a great place after all. 

He frowned as his mind dove into the thought that he was no better than they were, taking advantage of you in the back of his car. Letting his perverted fantasize take over him. He was way older than you were, and though it was legal, a part of him wasn't sure if it was right. 

Anger bubbled inside of him, disgusted with himself. He pulled out the panties he had pocketed earlier and sighed returning them to their place.

"Fuck," He gritted through his teeth.

He rose to his feet and took one last look at you before he slipped out the door. 

You had no recollection of how you got into a motel room, but it was safe to assume that Logan had placed you there. The clock on the wall indicated it was an hour before midnight, you had slept the entire day away. 

How sweet, you thought.

You scanned the room looking for any trace of him; a phone number, a wad of cash, cigars, anything: nothing. 

Just you and your backpack.

It's as if there was no trace of Logan ever existing:

Had you imagined him?

Had he been a hallucination from the leftover psychedelics in your system?

Your gears turned.

Would he leave without saying goodbye?

You look over to the bedside table and call the front desk. 

"Guest services," A voice chimed from the other line. 

"Hi... my...friend, got this room for me. I'm just wondering if he is staying in a separate room or left anything with you guys at the desk." You groggily explained, not being 100% sure yourself what you were trying to ask.

"I can check, what room are you staying in?" 

"..Give me a sec," You murmured into the receiver, looking at the sticker on the rotary phone. "B6." 

The clerk ruffles pages around looking for your information on the other end of the line.

"...Your room name is under Logan Howlett, but unfortunately there doesn't seem to be any other bookings under that name. We also didn't receive anything from Mr. Howlett at the desk."

Two things:

He was in fact real and he did leave without saying goodbye.

"Thank you," You mumbled, and hung up the phone and dropped your head with a huff.

You took notice that your feet were still black, and the reality hit that you indeed hadn't showered in a couple days, the struggles of being a nomad. 

You padded to the bathroom and made your way to the shower, twisting the knob; warm steam filled the room, fogging the mirror.

You undressed and stepped under the shower head. A chill ran up your stomach, causing your nipples to get hard, you weren't used to the water temperature yet.

With the motel-provided toiletries, you were able to wash your hair and body and even shave.

You cracked a smile, laughing in disbelief at how Logan absolutely didn't care that you weren't shaven and hadn't showered for a few days.

Your smile faltered as you remembered he was gone.

He was a man you just met, a total stranger, but he had definitely left a lasting impression.

Even though his knuckles had dried blood on them, you didn't feel scared around him, if anything you felt safe. There is something about him that just reeled you in like a deer in headlights. Not to mention your physical chemistry was through the roof.

You turned the shower off, stepped out and wrapped yourself in a robe. You had forgotten to turn on the fan so the entire room looked like a sauna.

Great, you thought, slipping on the provided paper-thin sandals and walking to the back door.

You opened it to clear the steam.

What? You stopped in your tracks.

Logan's car was parked in front of your room, he hadn't left after all.

You tightened the knot on your robe and stepped out into the darkness of the parking lot. You pressed your face against the window, shielding your eyes from the street lights with your hands. 

Logan wasn't inside, and it looked like nothing was missing;

Where could he have gone, had something happened to him? 

Your curiosity got the best of you, you were going to look for him. You went back inside and got dressed back into your dirty clothes that now smelled of booze. 

Booze. 

You had noticed there was a bar across from the motel, he might've gone there; hopefully, he wasn't getting himself in another fight. 

You kept the slippers on since those were your only shoes at the moment and left for the bar. 

You pushed the paint-chipped door and were greeted with a musk of liquor and cigarettes.

The inside, much like the exterior was made of wood and covered with various street signs and glowing lights casting a neon wash into the room. 

It was small and the place was packed. The air was warm and thick with smoke. Loud rock blared from the speakers as people chattered and laughed amongst themselves over the track. 

You pushed through a few people and spotted his flannel at the pool table, his back facing you.

You reached him tugging at his sleeve.

"I thought you left," You started and cut yourself off as a man you didn't recognize turned to face you. 

"My bad, thought you were someone else." You mumbled apologetically and turned to leave. 

A grip on your bicep stopped you in your tracks. 

"Where you goin'? Stay, wanna play a round?" The stranger slurred. 

"I'm actually looking for someone, maybe next time." You jerked your arm out of his grip, squeezing through groups of bodies, making your way to check out the slot machines in the corner. 

No one there. 

Shit. 

The last place you could check was the bar. You sucked in a breath, whispering your 'sorrys' and 'scuse me's' as you slithered your way to the bar top. Observing the occupied seats you couldn't identify Logan. Your eyes made contact with the bartender. 

"I.D. please or a parental permission letter." He up and downed you while drying a beer mug with a cloth. 

"I don't want a drink, have you seen a man, 40s, side burns with uh, bloody knuckles." You spoke up over the music. 

He pointed to the end of the bar where a brunette man had his head buried in his arms. 

"That's who you're looking for? He's been here for a while and had quite a lot to drink, I had to cut him off after he finished the whole bottle." 

You furrowed your brows.

"Thanks," You muttered and made your way to Logan. 

You could smell the booze wafting off of him from three feet away;

Was he trying to drink himself to death? 

You placed a gentle hand on his back whispering a 'Logan' in his ear. 

He perked up, squinting from the bar lights.

"What're ya' doing here?" He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

"Come on, let's go back to the room, you're wasted," You grabbed his wrist giving it a little tug. 

"M'fine, n' the room is all yours." He stretched out his back, relieving it from the pain.

"Well you can't sleep on the bar, let's go, the bed is big enough for both of us." You persisted. 

Your eyes locked, noticing almost immediately something changed in him, hurt was written all over his face. Logan didn't say anything, just looked at you with a sad expression, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

"...M'sorry..." He whispered and blinked slowly. 

You arched a brow and grabbed his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles. 

"It's fine Logan, let's go rest up. You've had a long day." You tugged at his arm and this time he threw a stack of cash on the bar and got up to follow you.

He hung his head low as he followed behind you, heavy footsteps crashing into the gravel stumbling lightly here and there.

What the hell had happened while you were asleep? 

You both bust through the door, Logan flopping on the bed, making it squeak loudly.

"I'll get you some water," You shut the door and grabbed the complimentary disposable cups on the desk.

"I said m' fine," You heard him faintly grumble in the mattress from the room as you filled it with the bathroom sink tap water. 

You returned and sat on the mattress next to his head.

"Drink some," You ushered, running a hand through his hair, he was warm to the touch.

He hummed in delight as your nails scratched his scalp gently. 

"You like that hm?" You teased.

Logan took a deep breath and propped himself on his forearms grabbing the cup from your hand. He threw it back like a shot of tequila, crumpled the cardboard and tossed it to the corner of the room. 

Your hand fell to his nape where your thumb rubbed tiny circles, he looked at you in the eyes, the same sadness still there.

"What is it?" You whispered. 

"...I'm old n' gross, didn't mean to do anything you didn't want.." He stared at the mattress. 

"What are you talking about..... in the car?" Your brows knitted. 

"Yeah, shouldn't have done that." He propped his head up with his palm.

"Logan, hey, of course, I wanted it, I'm the one who initiated it, I came onto you, remember-" You explained, dropping to your knees on the floor so that your face was now inches away from his. 

"-and you're not gross," You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

He lifted his gaze to meet your eyes. Just don't want to take advantage of you, kid, don't wanna hurt ya'," His eyebrows softened. You slid your hand to cup his stubly cheek. 

"Then don't hurt me, " You smiled.

"-and you're not. If anything I'm the one taking advantage of you," You giggled and bit your lips as you pushed him onto his back. You swung your thigh over him, now straddling him with both your hands on his chest. That earned you a surprised huff from Logan. His thick calloused hands grab to your exposed waist. You sat on his groin, feeling him getting slightly harder. 

You peered down at the gorgeous man beneath you. "I'm an adult too you know...just because I'm on the younger side doesn't mean you're taking advantage of me. I like you." You mumbled shyly. 

"I know bub'." He sighed. "Jus' never did this before.'" He breathed out. 

"Me neither, kay? So nothing to worry about." You pressed your forehead against his, cupping both his cheeks in your hands. 

"Kay'." He rasped, you could smell the prominent whiskey and cigars on his breath. You kissed him, long and hard, full of passion he returned it with an enthusiastic groan.

You didn't know the first thing about this man, but you already cared so much. You could tell that he had something inside of him that was dark or broken, which saddened you. He had shown you such generosity and kindness, you couldn't help but want to return the favour. 

He groaned as you pulled back from the kiss. "Go shower and come to bed back with me," You grinned. 

Without a word, he got up and obeyed. 

You had changed out of your clothing and back into the robe again, it felt good to be clean and wear something clean. You were in bed, waiting for him to come join you. A single warm-toned lamp lit the room. 

The door opened with a thud and Logan emerged from the door with a towel hanging from his hips.

The sheer sight of him made you immediately bite your finger: his hair stuck up in every direction, almost like when a wet dog shakes themselves dry.

His muscles glistened underneath the droplets of water, his abs were prominent and stretched all the way down to his pelvis. Logan was ripped, a pleasant surprise you hadn't gotten the chance to see earlier in the car. 

"Feel better?" You said warmly.

"Mhm," He agreed, trudging through the carpet to make his way to the bed. His abs flexed as he walked. He pulled the cover of the blanket up and began to get underneath with his towel.

"Your towel is going to make blankets wet," You remarked.

"There's only one robe," He paused looking down at you. 

From your point of view, he had one knee on the bed and towered over you. His towel-covered pelvis was inches away from your face.

You grinned and flipped to your stomach. Warmth spread in your cheeks as you reached out a hand to grip the towel. 

"That's alright with me," You purred, as you pulled it down making Logans semi-hard cock spring out. 

"What're ya-" He began but you cut himself off with a groan as you wrapped your small hand around it. It was thick and had a few prominent veins that grazed its sides, the red tip of it poked out from the foreskin that bunched at the edge. He was gorgeous.

You looked up at him with doe eyes as you began to stoke it slowly; You felt the warmth in your hand as it swelled to it's full erect size, Logan was about a whole delicious seven inches,

"Can I?" You blinked.

"You don't have to," He groaned from the sensation, brushing a hand through your hair.

"I really want to, please can I?" You begged, and your mouth began to water. Pleasuring Logan sent a thrill in your stomach. You could have this groan man under your control in a matter of seconds.

"Kay' princess, whatever you want," He grunted out. 

You pulled back the foreskin, exposing his thick eager tip. You hum in delight before enveloping your warm lips around it, sucking on it gently while still keeping that slow stroking rhythm from before. 

Logan's grip on your hair tightens, and small moans and groans escape his lips.  You were so pretty with his cock in your mouth, he stared at you in awe as you worked gently on him. Inch by inch you relaxed your throat to take more of him, feeling his hard cock push on your tongue for added friction. 

"You're doin' good," He praised with his head tipping back as you reached the base, your nose brushed against his pubic hair as you pushed him even further down. An ache formed at the back of your throat, but you didn't care, you were enjoying pleasuring Logan. A hunger began to form between your legs, and you squeezed them together, trying to ease the pressure. 

You pulled your head back, removing it from your warmth. You took a breath as you picked your pace a little, the strokes getting faster and faster. You spit the saliva that had been collecting in your mouth on it earning a grunt from Logan and a little tug on your hair.

He gripped his cock guiding it closer and slapped it against your cheek, making sounds of wet skin-on-skin reverb in the room. A low groan resonated from his chest as his slaps got harder. 

"Fuck," He breathed, peering at you with his hunger-filled eyes.

If he liked it rough, you were going to give it to him rough. 

You took charge again, wrapping your two hands on it now. Twisting them both in opposite directions down on the spit-lubricated shaft, tightening your grip and applying more pressure to his needy length. 

Your strokes became even faster, sending Logan's spine in tingles. You re-inserted him in your mouth sucking hard and letting him go with a pop noise, you repeated that a few times as he bucked his hips closer and closer, his orgasm approaching. 

You bobbed on his tip, sucking as hard as you possibly could, taking him in deeper and deeper with each push until you once again reached the base. You gagged from his size, groaning in pain, sending vibrations along his shaft. You pushed yourself to keep deep-throating him, making you gag over and over. The vibrations sent Logan over the edge.

"Fuck sweetheart," Logan rasped breathily, removing himself from you as you moaned in relief, you stroked him as ribbons of pearly cum shot out and covered your swollen lips.

He fell in a fit of moans as he rode out his orgasm under your touch.  He hunched over, placing a hand on the mattress to stabilize himself as you slowed your movement, letting him come back to his senses. You wiped off his seed with the sleeves of your robe, smiling at what you had just done.

He caught his breath and plopped down on the bed next to you, chest heaving from the miraculous release he had just experienced. 

You rolled into his side snuggling close to him, as he wrapped his tired arm around you. You laid your head on his bare chest and could hear his heartbeat slowly going back to normal with each breath. Logan's abs flexed as he brought down his lips to kiss the top of your head. 

"thanks', that felt real good sweetheart." He mumbled against your hair. 

"Mmmm... was all my pleasure," You smiled, tipped your chin up and kissed him on the lips.

The both of you laid there like that in the blankets in silence for a while. Logan stroked your hair gently as you twirled his chest hair between your fingers, the both of you just enjoying your presence.

"Logan?" Whispered. 

"Ya?" His chest moved with his word. 

"Why were your knuckles covered in dried blood?" You asked.

Logan's hand in your hair froze. 

"-Work." He rasped. 

"Are you going to work tomorrow? Is that why you were going to El Paso?" You pried. 

"No work, thinking of heading out to the other side of the border for a little bit," He chose his words carefully. 

He was being secretive; yes you did not know each other at all and you weren't entitled to full disclosure, but it seemed that he wanted you to know as little as possible.

Was he on the run? Mexico was the perfect place to go for people who wanted to be off the radar. 

Did he have a wife and kids down there? Your eyes darted to his hand, no ring.

"Vacation?" You tested. 

"Something like that," His tone calm, dissmisive. 

"When are you leaving?" You felt a pressure in your chest as you thought of him leaving for good. 

"Tommorow mornin'," He groaned looking at the clock. 

"That's so soon," You frowned.

"Yeah I know, kay kid' time to go to bed now." He rolled over to turn off the lamp, leaving the room in complete darkness now. 

He pulled your body into him so that your back was against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet smell.

Logan was going to miss having you in his arms, but he had business to take care of down south. Maybe one day he'd have the pleasure of crossing paths with you again. 

You heard the bathroom door shut, he was awake. You couldn't sleep last night because you had too many unanswered questions. You got up quietly stripping from your robe and sliding on a fresh pair of underwear that you had in your backpack. You rummaged around the room finding your scattered clothing pieces and frantically putting them on. 

Logan opened the door and was met with you being fully dressed and ready to go. His brows knitted. 

"Where you goin'" He grumbled. 

"I'm coming with you," You crossed your arms.

so much angst.

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[cusimmrbrightside]

I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;

“I’m Right You’re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.

(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)

Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.

English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.

Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.

Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.

Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.

Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.

History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.

PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).

Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.

It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.

(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)

[lokisivy]

Hi! Im a big fan of your work and I saw you were taking requests :) I had a smut fic idea in mind with young (before paralysis) Professor Charles Xavier x fem!student reader. Maybe you and Charles have had some flirty/sexual tension for the longest time until one night when everyone is in bed in their dorms, he reads your mind and notices that you are still awake, touching yourself and having just obscene thoughts of him till he comes into your room and takes matters into his own hands and the rest just be pure smut lmao 👀👀👀 keep up the good work!!

First of all, thank you soooo much for u liking my work. Second of all, it took me like 3 times to process what you requested. I'm ovulating rn, so I'm just so stunned.

Warnings: age gap, mind reading, slight breeding kink, reader is above 18, cursing. use of nicknames, p in v, unprotected sex, daddy kink, slight size kink. let me know if i missed anything

READERS POV

I'm a good student, I focus in class, get good grades, and am always polite to my professors. but there is this one class where I can't seem to focus no matter how hard I try.

Professor Xavier's class like right now I'm sitting in today's class what is the topic? DNA mutation blah blah blah.

he was looking and me oh his eyes were so blue like the ocean I could drown in them- Fuck he can read my mind.

GENATICS! FLOWERS! this isn't working he is smirking he knows what I'm thinking of. I bite my lips hard, trying to think of something else. His arms in that dress shirt sleeves rolled up his hands on my throat- FUCK think of something dark.

"Y/N read page 269 about Genetic mutations" the professor announced "Ahh-" fuck I didn't even have my book open shit. I used my telekinesis to open the page but it didn't I was fumbling for the page until Professor Xavier came behind me and opened the page for me.

"next time focus in class and refrain from having dirty thoughts about me," he whispers in my ears his sharp voice making me sudden goose bumps arise.

"Sorry professor. I promise that it won't happen again" I flirt looking up through my lashes and giving an innocent look.

he leans down to give me back my book "Good Girl."

With my powers, it was gonna be impossible for me to keep him out of my thoughts I was basically a magnet for him my mind like an open book for him. It doesn't matter because no matter what he was my teacher and nothing could happen between us even though I'd sell my soul to the devil for us to touch. and our age gap people would think he was a predator but at this point, I think I am the predator with the unholy thoughts I'm getting.

1:39 Am my clock read I couldn't sleep my interaction with Professor Xavier kept replaying 'having dirty thoughts about me in class'

'good girl' my hands snuck past my nightgown rubbing circles on my clit. imagining Charles bending me down the desk fucking me into oblivion 'Such a naughty girl only focusing on my cock and not the class' I imagined his rough thick accent. I pushed one finger inside me feeling the warmth it was relieving the pressure but not enough I needed more I needed him in every way possible.

3rd pov

You and Charles had always flirted with each other during office hours it was obvious in the being you were attracted to him he was very good-looking and muscular made women weak in the knee and because he could read any person's mind it made it easier for him to know when to flirt back he knew when you were sad or feeling under the weather but when the rumours started to spread around the acted tough with you in class you knew it was a show and it kept all gossip down it not like you were very young you came here after finishing high school to learn about your abilities and how to control them but you were still a student but something Charles never did was crossing the line until today he was awake trying to study a new students abilities. He wondered if you were awake and he was met but dirty thoughts that made his cock burst.

a growl came out of his throat "fuck me!" he adjusted his pants the thought of you touching yourself while thinking of him was gonna make him burst this second he started to palm his cock but could take anymore when your moans grew louder coming close to your orgasm.

Fuck it he thought and walked to your dorm room absolutely angry about the way you made him feel hands running through his hair he was gonna punish you for every time you made him hard, for every time your mischievous ass made him think about you.

He reached your room door knocking lightly not waking anyone and talked to you through your thoughts 'Open this door now!' He interrupted your fantasies making you rise in panic

Readers POV

Fuck Fuck FUCK! How did he read my mind it was 1 am everyone is asleep. I panic opening the door panting from how fast I got up.

"hey proff how you doing, bro?" I opened the door trying to act casual.

"Are you messing with me right now." It was more rhetorical than a question. He slammed the door, pining me against it.

"I-"

"What you thought you could be whore and touch yourself thinking about me and get away with it." He was frustrated both sexually and mentally "and why were you listening to my thoughts anyway I should be able to think what I want without having to worry about you getting into my head." I rolled my eyes. A part of me liked the thrill, but sometimes it was nice to have my thoughts to myself.

"You can block me out but you don't."

"It's exuasting. what you want me to masterbate and think about you and block you out." I sigh

"You don't know how hard it is for me to contain myself from letting all these thoughts of yours come true right now." He leans closer, his body towering in front of me.

Closer.

And Closer.

our lips so close but yet so far.

Till there was nothing but a fine line between our lips.

"Then make them come true." I barely got the words out.

"This is wrong." He voice became deeper

"I saved your life in Cuba professor." I whispered

"Fuck it." He said kissing me knocking the air out of my lungs, his hand come to cup my face our his toung fighting with mine. moving us towards the bed his hands roaming through my my silk PJs unbouting the buttons.

"Charles!" i moaned when his lips contact with my neck marking me plaming and squeezing my breasts, "please" I didn't know what I was pleading for but I needed the relief with the ache that was growing I was so wet aching for him to touch me.

" What darling, what do you want me to do?" he smirked, he knew what I wanted he could read my mind "I- I want you to touch me." I barely whispered my voice practricly unaudioble,"Louder darling?" he disaproved "I want you to fuck me charles like the way I was thinking about when I was touching me self on here." I run my hands through the sheets of the bed.

"Fuck my little whore wants me to fuck her," he growls, he grabs my neck and slams me down the bed causing a moan to leave me. His knee separated my legs from closing. he slid off the top I had on letting my breasts hit the cold air causing my nipples to harden. his thumb ran on my nipples rubbing and pinching. "Charles Please" I beg.

"Have I taught you nothing?" he kissed my chest slowly down to my breasts "Patience is how you achieve everything perfectly. "

"Charles Xavier if you don't fuck me right now I'll throw you against the wall." pull him by his shirt collar kissing him

"I may teach you science, but I think I need to teach you good manners." I rolled my eyes, ripping off his shirt. I stopped to take a moment to take in the sight of his toned muscles, running my fingers through his abs in awe. something inside him snapped at the way I looked at him. he immediately took down my shorts and unbuckled his pants.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked me,"Yes ever since Cuba Charles," I assured me, but something told me he was reading my mind to check if I had any doubts. "Good. Because the moment I start, I won't stop"

"Start first then we can speak about stopping because all I'm hearing is yap yap no acti--" I was interrupted by his fingers entering me all three of them. making me moan very loudly.

"Shh baby your classmates will hear you." he groans at the sight. "S-sorry."

his hands worked magic, and the rhythm was steady, hitting all the good points, building up the fire in my stomach fire that might explode any moment "Charles I'm so close." I whimpered at the loss of contact "Too bad your only gonna cum on my cock tonight" I looked down at his length it was big and thick and precum leaked out his hardness he positioned my left leg on his shoulder positioning himself and entering me at a slow excruciating pace stretching me into half.

"Fuck your so big." now I understood why he was taking it too slow his cock was gigantic that's why he walked around so confidently he is packing.

"Fuck you're tight." he groans the burn started to fade into pleasure "Charles please" probably begged for the millionth time tonight he was killing me. his pace started to grow faster "You are taking me so well darling." he praised me sending it to my pussy clenching on him tighter."Fuck Y/N!" he growls

"Charles faster" he complied going at an unforgivable pace the angle he fucked me in was make me feel all of his length he keeps hitting that spot that was about to explode any second now. my moaning became louder and harder to control probably making someone from outside hear us "Be quiet sunshine" he told me in between his rough thrusts he pinched my nipples lightly causing an overly loud moaning to come out he silenced me with a kiss and replaced his lips with his hand he gave me a warning look then removed his hands. my fingers running through his hair tugging on it tiny moans slipping out of him sending me over the edge with bliss and euphoria washing over me seeing starts in the back of my eyes. his cock twitching "Yes give me all your cum Daddy." I moaned my back arching scratches down his back. his hot warm cum filling my walls making me moan with pleasure it felt right. Charles put my legs down making me turn on my side, as I was about to sleep he grabbed my jaw. "Daddy is not done with you yet sunshine" he teases me.

"let's get you cleaned up sweetheart." he carried me to the bathroom

[lina-lovebug]

Scott is a HEAVY sleeper. He👏 is👏 a👏 dad👏 sleeper. He will either sprawl across the bed, limbs spilling out and loud snores coming from him. Or on days when he's especially tired or getting shit from Logan, he likes to be held. The X-Mens leader likes to be spooned. He likes to slump into bed, earning a familiar giggle from you - you know the drill. He gets on his side and you scootch over, wrapping your arms around his frame and softly snuggle into the crook of his neck and shoulder. He likes feeling your heartbeat against his back and your gentle breathing, which lulls him to sleep within minutes.

Also if anyone ever finds out, he will deny it until the day he dies.

[a-very-bored-blogger]

rough make out session with a drunk remy and a drunk reader.

remy slouched against the wall, as he takes a puff of a cigarette, his eyes turning hazy. reader straddling and grinding against his lap, as she gets extremely turned on by the way he's smoking. rough make out session ensues as he roughly manhandles her, taking in a deep inhale of the cigarette and breathing it out onto her mouth.

[dinogoofymutated]

First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.

Warren Worthington

Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.

He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.

He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!

He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.

    It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.

    The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.

    Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.

    "Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.

    "Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.

    “Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.

    "Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.

    “His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.

    “No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift. 

    “...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.

    “He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.

    “He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.

    “Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.

    “I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.

    “He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.

    When he steps away from you, He’s silent.

    “Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.

    “Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”

Piotr Rasputin

GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??

This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.

He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.

He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.

    His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage. 

    You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

    It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.

    “She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.

    “No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.

    “The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.

Kurt wagner

Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.

He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.

And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.

He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.

    Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.

    There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.

   Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes. 

    “Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.

    “How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.

    “Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate. 

    “Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.

    “I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.

    “Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.

   “Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”

Remy LeBeau

Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.

Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.

Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.

He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.

He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.

    When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.

    3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.

    “Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.

    “She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.

    “Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.

    “And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.

    “I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.

    “Remy-”

    “Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.

    “Do I need to tuck you in, too?”

[moonyflesh]

🐾 Cat Scratches - [James “Logan” Howlett x Reader]

WARNINGS: lots of fluff, brief mention of neck kisses, some suggestive comments but nothing past PG

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (Wolverine, MARVEL/X-MEN)

🐾 .*.. 🕯️

Logan laid comfortably on your stomach, his arms wrapped around your lower back and hips as he buried his face into your abdomen, the bare skin of your tummy visible just slightly underneath your sweater.

Lazily scrolling through your phone, splayed out across his bed with him on top of you, your fingers trailed over his upper shoulders, scratching the fabric of his white compression shirt, rubbing his sore muscles from a long day of training and battle practice.

As your fingers trailed upwards mindlessly on his back, your manicured nails finally reached the nape of his neck, teasing the edge of his hairline.

Scrolling down further through your instagram, you let out a soft sigh of content as your fingers finally buried into the hair on the back of his head, eliciting a low rumble from the back of his throat.

You perked up at this, glancing past the dimmed screen of your device, an eyebrow quirked upwards at his reaction.

“You alright, Lo?”

You muttered out, a small, curious smile tugging at your glossy lips, damp from your teeth gently biting at them out of unconscious habit.

“Mmmh,”

He responded in a low hum, leaning into your fingers as you smiled, a small, amused chuckle leaving your lips at his fingers that slid lower on your back, cupping the backs of your thighs with a slightly possessive grip.

You felt a soft, warm press of his chapped lips against your stomach, just above your panty line, and a small laugh left your lips as he buried his nose further into you, inhaling without hesitation. In response, your legs opened slightly underneath him, wrapping them around his broad midsection with a light squeeze.

Preferring the man in front of you opposed to the celebrities on your phone, you dropped it at your side, letting it become lost in the fluffy, unkept sheets next to your form as both your hands wrapped around his head, burying your fingers into his scalp.

A low, animalistic-like growl left his lips as you scratched through his hair, meeting the place behind his ears, where you knew he was most sensitive.

Tracing over the area where his jaw connected to his ear and neck, you let out a low hum in response, tilting your head propped up on one of his pillows to the side, your eyebrows knitting together lightly in curiosity at his pleasant reactions.

“Feels good, bub. Right- mmh. There.”

Your eyes narrowed at his borderline inappropriate hum, and you nodded, wordlessly continuing to scrape through his fluffy, unkept hair.

“I didn’t take you for a cat, Logan,” You teased quietly, a small vibration leaving your own form, similar to that of the buzz of an old stereo.

“Don’t mock me, sweetheart. Can’t help it,”

He shot back, his furry eyebrows knitting together as he finally shifted, pulling himself up further, allowing his face to move from your stomach to your collarbone, trying desperately not to go full deadweight on you, knowing he’d crush your frail form.

“Plus, ever since you got yer nails done-”

He didn’t finish his sentence as you raked through his head of hair once more, pushing his face into the warm skin of your exposed neck, muffling any protest from him.

“Stop talking, James. Sleep.”

You effectively hushed him, a small smile pulling at your face as he grumbled out something along the lines of ‘mm. Whatever,’ and ‘fine.’

You felt him pepper a few hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his teeth teasingly biting down on your exposed shoulder, before lapping at the new mark with his tongue, admiring his work with your taste.

“G’night, bub.”

You smiled at his subtle acceptance to your demand, your fingers frozen in his fluffy hair and partially in his long side shaves, nodding.

“Goodnight, kitty.”

[librababe99]

In the Quiet Hours

A/N: First off, thank y’all so much for showing so much love to the work I’ve posted so far! It’s great to see all the interactions and makes me happy people are sticking around to see more🥹

In honor of hitting 30 followers I decided to write a quick one shot with Scott Summers. Please let me know if there are other X-men OR MCU characters you would like me to write for!  - Libra ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

Word Count: 566 CW: Suggestive themes, friends to lovers 

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The dim glow of the X-Mansion hallway lights barely illuminated your path as you made your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack. You weren’t expecting to run into anyone—especially not Scott.

He was leaning against the counter, shirtless, his body bathed in the soft light filtering through the windows. You paused in the doorway, your breath catching at the sight of him. Scott was always disciplined, composed, but here, in the quiet of the night, he seemed… different. His usual intensity softened, a rare vulnerability on display.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. His ruby quartz glasses reflected the faint light, concealing his eyes, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and assessing.

“Yeah,” you replied, stepping into the kitchen, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between you. “You?”

He gave a small shrug, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Something like that.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, from the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as he shifted his stance, from the way his skin glowed under the faint light. There was an unspoken tension between you, something that had been simmering for weeks, maybe longer. It was there in the way his fingers brushed yours as he handed you a glass of water, in the way your breath hitched at the accidental touch.

“Scott…” You hesitated, your voice barely audible. The air between you felt charged, every second stretching into something more.

He didn’t say anything, just took a step closer, his proximity making your pulse quicken. His hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart race. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the intoxicating scent of him filling your senses.

The tension between you was palpable, electric. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. You could sense the restraint in him, the careful control he always maintained, but there was something more now—something raw, something hungry.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice hushed, as if afraid to break the spell. “More than I should.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. “Me too.”

The admission hung in the air, charged with a need that neither of you could ignore any longer. Scott leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that made your knees weak. You melted into him, the world fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, foreheads resting against each other. Scott’s fingers lingered on your waist, his touch firm, possessive.

“This… this can’t be just once,” he whispered, his voice rough, filled with need.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest. “I wouldn’t want it to be.”

The promise lingered between you, a quiet acknowledgment of what had been building for so long. You knew this was just the beginning, that whatever this was between you, it was far from over.

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[overusedtoothbrush]

i’ve seen a couple ppl remake the good riddance x-men/fox marvel movies montage with the infinity saga and i had to do it with agents of shield because like the fox marvel movies their futures r unclear (at best). agents of shield means the world to me and i hope they’re chilling in the void

posting here before tik tok cus i’m pretty sure it will flop but i don’t really care i made this for me