#logan howlett fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ichorai · 1 year

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as it was ; logan howlett.

track seven of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; logan howlett x mutant!scientist!gn!reader

synopsis ; you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

words ; 9.1k

themes ; angst, fluff, action, mutant au, scientist au

warnings / includes ; descriptions of violence and gore, death, blood and injuries, alcohol, smoking, emotions™, logan calls you 'bub' and 'darlin', reader has the ability to manipulate matter, reader is a scientist, based on marvel comics presents: weapon x issues #72-84, mentions of the brotherhood and the rest of the x-men, charles is your bff :D, not accurate x-men timelines </3

main masterlist.

You pressed your knuckles into your tired eyes, wincing when bright colors exploded behind your eyelids. Gingerly, you blinked to adjust back to the brightness of the laboratory’s artificial lights, stifling a wide yawn with the back of your palm.

It was your shift to watch him. Weapon X.

Everything was deathly silent, other than the rhythmic beeping of the machine in front of you. The machine that told you he was still alive. Still breathing.

You shifted in the leather chair, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat.

The man—was he even a man anymore?—laid motionless and limp within the vat. His features, softened with unconsciousness, were still rugged and intimidating, nearly hidden by the hundreds of wires sticking out of his form.

They brought you in just a week ago, so you were still getting used to everything here. The other scientists in the facility had told you that the man was a volunteer for the Weapon X project—that he needed to be given an adamantium skeleton or his own mutation would kill him from the inside out. Being a mutant-in-hiding yourself, you felt a certain calling to help him out.

So if you were helping this man recover, why did it feel so wrong?

Biting the side of your cheek, you slipped out of the chair and strode up to the vat, resting a hand on the glass barrier. It was cold beneath your fingertips.

You could’ve sworn you saw his foot twitch—

The door to the lab whooshed open, and the head scientist, Dr. Cornelius, strode in, shooting you a humorless look, wordlessly telling you that your shift was over.

Pursing your lips, you pulled yourself away from the glass, sparing the man in the vat one last glance before stepping back to the chair to gather your things.

“Anything interesting to note?” the old man asked you.

You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Nothing at all for the past couple of hours, Doc. He’s responding exceptionally well to the chemical bath.”

He made a disinterested noise, as if the prospect of things going well bored him, before sinking into another chair and heaving a large sigh.

Hesitant, you stepped forward to ask, “Doctor? Sorry, I was just wondering if I could ask you some questions.” It was about time you knew just what was going on here—there was definitely something that he wasn’t telling you.

The man lifted his gaze to you, seeming annoyed already. “What is it?” A scowl threatened to play by the corner of your lips, but you forced on an indifferent expression.

“I just… I keep thinking about him.”

“Who? Logan?”

His name was Logan. He had a name. Well—of course he did. You suddenly felt sick.

“Yeah. I keep thinking about what we’re doing to him.”

The doctor narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but wisely chose to remain silent, goading you to carry on.

The machine beeped. You glanced at the unconscious man in the vat.

“Before I came here… was he—was Logan—here? And I don’t mean him as Weapon X. I mean it like the man before this. Was he here?”

“No,” Cornelius replied, far too quickly for your liking. He averted his gaze, focusing on the machine in front of him. “I don’t know. What are you asking here, kid?”

This time, you didn’t bother to suppress the frown budding across your face. “I mean,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “did Logan sign up for this?”

“I already told you,” Cornelius gruffed out, “he volunteered.”

“And why should I believe you? Why have you named him Weapon X if all we’re trying to do is cure him? Why did you have to erase his memories? Why have you been forcing him to fight wild animals in the forest? Are you making me attach adamantium to his skeleton because you want to help him, or because you want to manufacture a mindless killing machine?” Your voice had raised several notches in volume, and the doctor seemed to recoil at your words. Sucking in a breath to calm your erratic pulse, you spoke again, “You’re not telling me something, Cornelius.”

The doctor, stunned into silence, took several moments to gather what he wanted to say. A rebuttal was just on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would be fruitless.

You’ve figured it out.

And he would have to kill you for it.

“Was he abducted? Kidnapped?” you asked again, voice strained.

“Congratulations,” the doctor sneered, slowly rising to his feet. “You’ve put together the puzzle pieces.”

Bile rose in your throat. “Logan was forced into this. He didn’t want any of it. You… you’re trying to make a monster but—you’re the real monster here.” Slowly, you started backing up. “You were using me. You knew that I wouldn’t help graft the adamantium to his skeleton if I knew the truth. You’re insane. You’re sick.”

With a mangled cry, the doctor lunged forward, knocking you to the ground as his palms found your throat. Pain flourished through your spine as it thudded against the sleek tiles of the floor, a strangled sound crawling from your lips. You clawed at his hands at first, desperate and losing air far too quickly.

Then, you grappled at his face, scratching at his cheeks until blood welled in tiny droplets from the red marks you drew. This only seemed to enrage him further, fingers pressing harder into your trachea. Dark spots danced about your vision and you gasped for breath, eyes misting over with unshed tears.

Fuck. You needed to do something. Quick.

Maybe… your powers—

No. No, you’d find another way. You refused to lose control of yourself ever again.

The chair was right beside you. If you could just… hook your foot around one of its legs and tip it forwards…

Your mouth fell open as your lungs begged for mercy, limbs growing weaker with each passing second. You gave it your all to jerk forward, just enough to shift you down and catch the chair with your foot and yank it forwards.

The heavy metal seat tipped forward slowly, before giving in to its own weight and crashing on top of Cornelius. The bald man howled with pain, and his grip loosened on you momentarily. You hiked your knees upwards and slammed them into his stomach, shoving him away with a yell. Your chest heaved raggedly, greedily swallowing as much air as you could take.

The doctor was quick to recover from his initial shock. You thought he’d lunge for you again, but instead, he brandished a walkie talkie and yelled, “CODE RED, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW! CODE RED!”

Without a damned clue what ‘code red’ meant, you rushed forward and slammed the emergency lockdown button on the control panel. A haggard sigh of relief left you when thick metal slabs slowly lowered down over the doors.

Cornelius, infuriated, grabbed the back of your head and shoved you down, slamming the side of your face into the plethora of buttons. A loud groan of pain ricocheted across the laboratory, blood seeping from one of your nostrils and slipping into your mouth, running a metallic copper taste along your tongue. He did it again, and again, and again, far too quickly for you to even begin to react. Faintly, you registered a whooshing sound in front of you—one of you must’ve accidentally hit the button that released Logan from his chemical bath.

You spat blood over the buttons with a snarl, reinvigorated, shooting your hands out to stop him from bashing your face in once more. Twisting your body, you kicked at his knee as hard as you could, which made Cornelius collapse forward. You messily drove your fist into his eye socket, pushing him back, away from the control panel. The doctor fell onto the ground and you kicked at his skull with the heel of your shoe.

There was blood dripping down your chin. Your nose was throbbing. You were disoriented, vision splitting into blurry duplicates. Dizzy, you dropped to your haunches, crawling as far away as you could from Cornelius.

Noises were coming from the other side of the lab. Where Logan was.

Wincing, you were just about to turn to look before Cornelius’ hand wound around your ankle, yanking you to him with surprising strength. He punched you in the shoulder first, trying to aim for your face. You flailed your limbs, attempting to kick your feet, but he had trapped your legs between his. A struggling whimper shook your lips, breaths coming in fast, staccato beats. The second time he punched you, he hit you dead on. Your vision went dark for a good ten seconds. You could tell one of your eyelids had already swollen shut.

Desperate and panicked, you lurched upwards and bit into whatever you could. You sank your teeth in until red squirted straight into your other eye, and copper flooded your mouth once more. An ear-piercing scream rattled through the lab.

As you furiously wiped away the dark ichor from your eyes, you realized that he wasn’t screaming because of you—not really, at least.

He was screaming because there were three adamantium claws protruding from his abdomen.

And just behind him was Logan.

A terrified garble tore through your own throat. A string of nonsensical words fell from you—ranging from cries for help, prayers to whatever god would listen to you, and incoherent sobbing as pure terror ripped through you, whole and consuming.

There were still wires hanging off of the man’s starkly naked form, dragging against the ground behind him. His skin glistened with the residue from the chemical bath, droplets still falling from his damp hair and rolling over his defined muscles. With a near animalistic growl, he threw Cornelius’ lifeless corpse to the side, his adamantium claws streaking down both your arm and your side in the process. Another wail erupted from you and you curled into a fetal position, cradling your injuries and fruitlessly trying to put as much pressure as you could against the wounds. Blood seeped from you, staining the once-pristine floors with a growing pool of liquid rubies. You were light-headed, tilting your head up to look at Logan standing in front of you. Horror painted your insides with a thick, tar-like substance.

He made no move to hurt you any further, only regarding you with dark, distant eyes, like he just could just barely recognize your face. He remembered you.

You wanted to plead—beg him for mercy.

You cracked your shaking lips open, but the words lodged firmly in your throat, a sob rippling through your lungs. Hot tears streamed down your bloodied cheeks in fat dollops.

The mutant surprised you, then.

He spoke.

“I am…” he croaked out, seeming slightly miffed. It took him another couple of seconds to articulate his next words. His brain had been fried over and over again, the English language was something he had nearly completely forgotten. “I am… dead? I remember… death. Dying.”

You were shaking uncontrollably now. Whether it be because of the terror, or because of the insurmountable blood loss, you weren’t quite sure. Most likely both.

Voice warbling, you croaked out, “No, Logan. You’re not dead.”

His dark pupils darted to the pool of blood by your side, then moved down to his own hands and claws, practically soaked red. His chest heaved.

Slowly, you raised a trembling hand to point at the winding metal staircase at the back of the laboratory. “Run, Logan,” you hoarsely whispered. “They’ll be here any minute. You have to go before they catch you again. Go upstairs—there’s a rear window you can escape through.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you.

He stalked away wordlessly, leaving only droplets of Cornelius’ blood in his wake.

The tension melted away from your body instantaneously. The urge to cry laid heavy on your conscience, but you shoved down the tears and slowly pushed yourself to your feet, placing pressure on your wounds as you staggered onto your feet. With a grunt, you limped to Cornelius’ corpse, kneeling down to rip his belt and shirt off.

A low groan rumbled from your chest when you tied the belt over the deep gash Logan had inflicted on you, wrapping his shirt tightly over the leaking wound on your waist. Whether it was an accident or a purposeful move, you had no clue. Immediately, blood seeped through the fabric. You decided not to pay it any mind.

Faintly, you registered shouting from the other end of the barricaded door. You were running out of time.

Huffing a curse, you struggled to your feet and stepped over Cornelius, bee-lining for the metal staircase. Upstairs, you could see the droplets of blood Weapon X had left behind. You swallowed heavily, before following them to the open window.

“Fuck,” you coarsely spat out, glancing down to see snow blanketing the ground nearly at knee-length. Trembling already, you hopped off the windowsill and onto the fire escape’s ladder, gingerly placing each foot on the lower rung until you were near enough to jump down.

The wind whispered frost into your ears as you looked forward, into the dark forest.

They would kill you if you went back inside. It seemed like you had no other choice but to follow Logan. He was your best chance at survival.

Your sigh misted into an opaque fog as you followed the trail of blood on the snowy forest floor.

It’d been hours.

You had lost nearly all sensation in your feet, numbed by the frigid cold. You supposed that was one upside of the frost—you could no longer feel the pain of your wounds, despite the large blooming of crimson seeping through Cornelius’ shirt. The lids of your eyes were heavy, drooping closed every few seconds before struggling back open. You wrapped your arms around yourself lethargically, struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Logan was only a couple minutes in front of you. At least—you thought he was. Hell, he could’ve been five hours away by now, considering how out of it you were.

You swallowed your throat, dry and scratchy from the whipping wind of the forest.

Not even ten steps later, you found yourself tipping forward, succumbing to the exhaustion.

The snow was suddenly flush against your cheek, the world now angled vertically. Black spots danced about your sight. You only barely registered the pain of hitting the ground, a wooden stick poking uncomfortably against your leg. You couldn’t be bothered to move. You couldn’t feel anything—yet it felt like you were burning alive. Perhaps it was the blood loss. Maybe the shame of failure. Or it could’ve simply just been the fact that you’ve been wading around in the snow for hours. A small breath slipped from your lungs and your eyes fell shut.

A nap wouldn’t hurt… would it?

Just as the corners of your vision waned dark, the shadow of a figure loomed over you.

The last thing you felt right before you succumbed to the cold were a pair of warm arms winding around you.

Lights—far too many, far too bright. Your heavy eyelids narrowed as soon as they blinked open, and you gingerly turned your face to the side to avoid the glare of the harsh luminosity.

There were a couple things you registered in your early stages of rousing. You were no longer cold, bundled in several layers of woolen blankets on what you presumed to be an infirmary bed. You could feel the slight pressure of a proper bandage around your waist, which still throbbed but wasn’t nearly as painful as you remembered.

And there was a man in a lab coat beside you.

You stared at his back as he busied themself with colorful pills and bottles. Your throat was so dry, it took you several moments to muster yourself to croak out a warbling, “Hello?”

The man seemed to jump out of his shoes, turning abruptly with wide eyes behind thick, rectangular spectacles. “Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He shuffled to your side, watching you with evident concern.

You winced as you propped yourself up on one arm, slowly pulling yourself to sit up on the bed without putting too much weight on your wound. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

He pursed his lips. “That’s unfortunately quite expected—you’ll be feeling that way for a little bit before you get better. You took quite the beating out there—I tried my best to patch you up but I’m afraid the lacerations you got on your abdomen and arm will scar forever. Those bruises on your face, however, will be gone in a week, two tops.” The man paused, as if wanting to ask you a question, but thought better of it, shaking his head. “I’m gonna call somebody here to come talk to you. And I’ll go get you some water and food. Is that okay?”

Still reeling over everything, you nodded slowly, watching as he strode out of the infirmary.

Not a minute later, you heard the smooth rolling of wheels against tile. A bald man on a wheelchair swiftly entered the room, greeting you with a genuine smile and a bow of his head.

“You must be Doctor L/N,” he said, stopping just by your bedside. “I’m Charles Xavier. Now, I’m sure you have many questions—so let me try to answer them. You’re currently in Xavier’s School of Gifted Youngsters. I sensed your distress through my own telepathic mutation and had some of my X-Men go pick you and Logan up.”

At the mention of Logan, your muscles tensed, and your gaze snapped upwards to meet his.

“Logan… he’s here?”

Charles tilted his head, thinking back to the burly, pacing man in his office. “Yes, quite.”

“Is he okay?” you asked softly.

A wisp of a smile graced Charles’ lips. “He’s fine. A bit disoriented, but his memories are steadily returning. You, I’m more worried about. I know you’re a mutant, Y/N.”

Something dangerous flashed behind your irises. “I’ve never purposefully used my powers on anyone, if that’s what you’re asking. What happened to Logan—was because I was foolish enough to trust bad men.”

“I’m not blaming you, Y/N. You thought you were doing the right thing. Besides, the group who tricked you have been apprehended by the X-Men. They won’t be conducting anymore experiments on mutants,” he said, not unkindly. “I wanted to give you the liberty to explain what your mutation is… and if you can control it.”

“It’s only happened once before,” you whispered, fiddling with your nails anxiously. “I can manipulate matter, I think. Rearrange atoms and molecules in space. Once I start, I can’t control it—so I don’t ever intend to use it again.”

Charles regarded you for a moment, before nodding. “That’s quite the commitment. Would you mind me asking why?”

You hesitated, your teeth worrying into your bottom lip. “The first time I found out about my powers, someone died because of me. There was a car crash and my friend tried helping me and I… I panicked—” Tears quickly blurred your vision and you hiccuped, stopping to furiously wipe them away. “Shards of glass flew everywhere and…”

You trailed off, releasing a frustrated sigh.

“The cops ruled it as an accident, but I knew it was my fault. I moved out of town, started doing research with a university in molecular biology in hopes of finding out more about myself, when I got an offer to work with this company that ‘helped’ mutants. They lied to me. They were experimenting on them—and I should’ve known better. I thought I was saving Logan’s life.”

Charles hummed in thought, before shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. It was an accident—you didn’t know how to control your powers. But we can help you with that. If you stay, that is.”

Mouth parting in surprise, you leaned forward slightly in confusion. “You… you want me to stay here? After everything I’ve done? What will Logan think?”

“He knows it’s not your fault. There’s a reason he didn’t kill you—and a reason he carried you through the snow until we found the two of you. The deal is still on the table—just think about it. You’d make a valuable asset to our team.” A genuine smile etched over his face before he asked, “Would you perhaps want to see Logan?”

“No!” you exclaimed, a little too quickly. Charles’ eyebrows rose. Arms wrapping around yourself, you gently shook your head, repeating in a quieter tone, “No, thank you.”

The man observed you rather pensively before humming, “Alright, then. I’ll let you get some rest.”

“Thank you.” Despite the tautness of your tone, Charles knew you were wholly grateful. He bowed his head, and wheeled out of the infirmary room, leaving you with your thoughts.

To none of his surprise, leaning against the wall right next to the door, was Logan.

There was a cheap cigar wedged between his lips, hands clutched over the dog tags around his neck. He cocked his head to Charles as a greeting, gruffing out, “Are they alright?”

It was rather amusing to see such a brooding, stoic man lose his wits over a person he barely knew. Logan cared about you, and that made Charles all the more curious.

“I think Y/N’s going to be just fine.”

Logan huffed in something akin to relief, blowing out a puff of opaque smoke. After a long stretch of silence, Logan queried in a strained voice, “Can I see them?”

“It’s best if you give Y/N some time. They’re still a bit rattled over everything,” said the professor, patiently. “Have you gotten your memories back?”

“I think so. I remember most of my life before getting kidnapped. I taught self defense here, right?” Logan muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely sure of himself. When Charles grinned and nodded, Logan spoke again, hesitant. “I remember Y/N. Their face, watching me through the glass. Talking about curing me—helping me. I remember the doctor there trying to kill them once they found out the truth.”

A low growl rumbled within the grizzled man’s chest, and he slumped further against the wall. “What are you going to do with Y/N now?”

“Well, that’s up to them. They are a mutant after all—I offered them a place here. Whether they stay or not is not for me to say.”

This seemed to pique Logan’s interest. “Y/N’s a mutant?”

“Yes,” Charles stated matter-of-factly. “Though, they don’t use their powers because it’s far too dangerous. Which is why I proposed that they stay so we can help. Now, if you excuse me, Logan, I’ve got to grade some papers. Have a good night.”

“Yeah,” replied Logan, distant. He saluted Charles with two fingers as he wheeled away. “G’night.”

The rest of the X-Men warmed up to you rather quickly. Hank would joke around with you while he did your daily check-up, and Jean, Ororo and Anna introduced themselves with sweet smiles and baked goods that they made just for you. They’d stay with you in the infirmary until late at night, playing boisterous rounds of Uno and exchanging stories of their own childhood mishaps with their mutation. Kurt Wagner was a delight to speak to—you quite enjoyed your conversations with the lively teleporter. Scott Summers was a handsome fellow, who had acquired a broken arm from a training accident, which gave him a good excuse to hang around you. Charles often visited you as well, each time asking once again if you were planning on making your residence here permanent. He even offered you a job to teach the kids here some science—which you kindly declined.

The friendly nature of the mansion and the people residing there really made you want to stay.

But you knew you shouldn’t.

Especially not when Logan was so clearly avoiding you—it was a tell-tale sign that you were definitely overstaying your welcome.

You’d only seen him a small handful of times since you arrived. Lingering in the hallways, passing by the door, and once in Charles’ office when you dropped by to ask him a question. He had stalked away with nary a sound, not even bothering to spare you a glance.

So it was quite the surprise when he stepped into the infirmary while you were packing a small duffel bag with travel necessities nearly two weeks later, practically bristling at the thought of you leaving. Leaving when he hadn’t even said a single word to you. His jaw clenched.

“L… Logan?” you asked, nearly dropping the shirt you were holding out of shock. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

He stared at you for a long while, unsure of what to say. The man was on his way to a bar for a beer or two before he caught sight of you practically flying across the room in a rush to pack. He was not prepared for this conversation at all. A part of him wished you could just read his thoughts like Charles could, because his mind was running a mile a minute. There were just too many things he should’ve said, too many things he waited too long to say. And none of it seemed to want to come out.

So he opted to heave out a grand sigh, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, not once breaking eye contact with you. You had awkwardly resigned to folding the last few pieces of clothing, stuffing them into the bag.

The action prompted Logan to husk out, “You’re leaving.”

It was more of a statement than a question. Your muscles tensed at his voice. He seemed angry—frustrated—and you weren’t entirely sure if it was directed towards you, or himself.

“I have no place here,” you whispered, words nearly lost to the deafening silence.

Logan’s brows furrowed. “This is a school—a home for mutants. You belong here.”

Fixing him with a curious expression, you zipped up your bag, shaking your head. “It’s not fair to you, Logan. I can’t just keep pretending that me being around doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“So you’re leaving because of me.” Logan pushed off the wall, stalking towards you until he stood just in front of you. This close, you could smell the faint cigar smoke on him, accompanied with a fresh pine-like aroma. He smelled like the forest, like sitting in front of a fire place with a mug of coffee cradled in your palms. A lump formed in your throat, grip tightening on the strap of the bag.

“I’m leaving for you,” you corrected. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did all those awful things to you. I know it doesn’t absolve me of anything but—I really did think I was helping you. Oh… and thank you. For coming back and saving me.”

The hardness to Logan’s features seemed to soften just a bit. He watched you keenly, studying the genuine tenderness to your eyes, the way your lips screwed to the side in a fruitless effort to stave away the tears.

“Hey,” he said, stepping even closer. “I forgive you, bub. I forgive you, alright? Stop beating yourself up. Charles told me you thought you were helping me—and I believe it. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, the man truly responsible is dead, thanks to you. You helped me escape, remember?”

Your eyes flickered from the ground to meet his. “Of course I remember.”

A low rumble resonated from Logan’s chest. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing for damn near killing you. I found you passed out in the snow and I—I was terrified. I carried you, worried to death the entire time, thinkin’ you were going to die on me. But Charles found us—and you lived. We both lived. I want you to stay. Hell, if you want to leave, then go ahead. The door’s wide open. But don’t let it be because of me.”

He watched as your shoulders trembled ever so slightly, then sagged as you loosened your hold on the duffel bag. Relief seeped through his bones. For a moment, he was scared you were really going to leave.

Without another word, Logan nodded, stepping back. He turned to walk out of the infirmary, itching for nice, cold beer. Or two. Probably five. Oh, who was he kidding. He could blaze through twenty bottles and barely feel buzzed.

“Logan,” you called out.

He stopped by the doorway without turning.

“Thank you,” you croaked, wiping away a stray tear. A happy one. Maybe you could even ask if the job Charles had offered you was still on the table.

A minuscule smile played by the corner of his lips. He ducked his head, and strode away.

ONE MONTH LATER.

The snow was thicker than ever before. Nearly everybody was outside, either making rotund little snowmen with carrots for noses or playing a game of dodgeball. You caught sight of Kurt teleporting just above Rogue to dump a large armful of snow atop her head. You huffed out a laugh from behind the window when she started spewing out a long string of curses, cheeks tinted red from the cold.

Movement from your peripheral vision made you turn your head to look out the other window. You were met with the lovely sight of Logan hauling lumber nearly double his size from just over the hill, a layer of snowflakes icing the top of his dark tresses. You shook your head, wondering why he hadn’t asked anyone for help.

Ever the lone wolf, he was.

Commotion from the other window made you turn once more, watching with a snort when the kids began pelting Logan with dozens of snowballs, laughing with unbridled glee. The chuckles died away when the burly man dropped all the wood he was carrying, rolling up his sleeves with a wolfish grin. They screamed, scurrying away whilst hiccuping with laughter.

“Quite chilly outside,” Charles’ voice broke out from beside you. “Come have a hot chocolate with me.”

“If this is your way of bribing me to grade your classes’ papers, I’ll have you know I’m not easily swayed,” you teased, though fell into step beside him as he led you into his office. “I’ve got my own class to attend to.”

Despite only knowing Charles for around a month now, the two of you have grown very fond of each other. He was like a big brother to you—just as the rest of the X-Men had gradually become your family.

The professor scoffed. “That was one time! I just wanted your expertise, was all.” He gestured to the array of mugs on his desk, then to the thermos right beside them. “Please, help yourself. Paper grading wasn’t really what I wanted to discuss with you. I have another proposition to make you.”

You arched a brow while pouring the both of you a generous serving of thick, creamy hot chocolate. “Always with the propositions, Charles,” you said, sipping on your drink with a hum. “What is it?”

“I want you to join our missions.”

The lighthearted nature of your conversation visibly seemed to sour. “What?” you asked, placing your mug down. “Charles, I thought we made this clear—”

“You don’t use your powers, yes. I’m well aware. Let me rephrase. I want to help you… er, reacquaint yourself with your abilities. Just to try it out. And perhaps if all goes smoothly, you’d make a remarkably valuable member on our team. I promise, if we try it out and things go south, I’ll let it go. Never speak a word of it to anybody.” There was an earnest tone to his voice, hopeful and contagiously optimistic.

Your finger traced the rim of the mug, pursing your lips in thought. “Just to try it out?”

He nodded. “Just to try it out. I’m curious for you, Y/N. Haven’t you ever wanted to be able to control your powers?”

“More than anything in the entire world,” you murmured quietly, voice cracking.

It took me a while to control my powers, too, Charles said, but his lips weren’t moving. It took you a moment to realize that he was speaking to you telepathically. The key is patience. And I do believe with enough time, you can gain control of yours as well. Imagine how many children who are struggling with their own mutations you’d be able to help if you had a grasp of your powers.

“You’re one hell of a motivational speaker,” you snarked after a moment to mull over his offer, despite the smile fiddling at the corner of your lips. “Alright, Charles. You convinced me. When do we start?”

The large, antique grandfather clock in your office merrily trilled thrice just as the hands turned to three in the afternoon. You glanced away from the homework papers you were grading, before filing them away for you to finish off later. You were in need of a long overdue break. Rising from your chair, you groaned softly as your bones popped with the stretch, rolling your shoulders to ease the mild tension.

Training all night with Charles yesterday certainly took both a physical and mental toll on you.

You needed to get out of your office for a bit—take a walk to clear your head. As you donned your coat and a dark yellow beanie to tuck just over the top of your ears because they grew particularly cold in the harsh winters, you strode out the doors.

Before you could make your way to the snowy outdoors, you passed by one of the training rooms, where you heard a familiar gruff voice.

Logan was teaching a group of about a dozen kids—self-defense class, if you could recall. He was moving his arms about animatedly, demonstrating with a dummy that seemed to be a brush away from falling apart. The kids were watching with rapt fascination, gasping in unison when Logan speared the poor thing straight through the abdomen.

A small grin splayed over your features as you leaned against the doorway.

A young boy raised his hand, asking, “When are we gonna be able to practice?”

Logan sheathed his claws and crossed his arms. “I’ll let you practice with your own dummies next week. But for now you just watch and learn—Y/N? What’re you doin’ here?”

Blinking at suddenly being shoved into the spotlight, you sheepishly stepped forward and waved to the kids. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss is about with Mr. Howlett’s famous self-defense class. Heard it’s the students’ second favorite class.”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan chuckled, arching an eyebrow to the rest of the class. “And what would be their favorite, then?”

You grinned. “Mine, of course.” The kids groaned in protest, though laughing at your blatant sarcasm. You waved them away with a roll of your eyes. “Oh, hush. You guys love science.”

Snorting, Logan propped his fists onto his hips and directed a roguish grin towards you. “It’s not a competition—even though they obviously like me better.” He turned back to the dummy with a nod. “Anyways, where was I—er, yes, Rogue?”

The student’s arm was stuck up in the air, an excited grin painted over her lips. “Why don’t you and Professor L/N try dueling each other? I’m sure it’d teach us a lot more than that dummy,” Rogue drawled in her thick Southern accent. The rest of the students murmured their agreement, bobbing their heads to the idea. Besides, they were all curious about your infamous mutation—they’d never seen you in action before.

Immediately, your stomach dropped and you were quick to shake your head just enough for Logan to see. His features seemed to soften with understanding.

“That’s enough, settle down,” Logan gruffed. “Professor L/N came here to watch, it would be unfair to spring an entire demonstration on them without any warning. The dummy’ll do just fine. Look, it’s in tip-top shape!” His burly fist wrapped around the dummy’s throat.

And the head popped right off.

Logan blinked, stunned. The class burst into laughter. You joined them, hiding a smile behind your palm. Logan watched you keenly, before a crooked smile broke through his rough features, chuckling lowly under his breath.

“I’m sorry about them,” he said, making his way to you once he had dismissed all his pupils (though not before assigning them a butt-load of homework that made all of them groan exasperatedly). “I know you weren’t expecting that.”

Waving his words away, you were quick to shake your head. “No, no, it’s alright. I’m just… not entirely comfortable with using my powers yet. Charles and I are still working through it—I’m not really at the stage of combating an experienced mutant as yourself. Anyways, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of school-related errands to run.”

You crossed your arms with a hesitant quirk of your lips to assure him that you were okay, watching him keenly as he tried to mirror your expression. It came out more as an awkward stretch of his mouth, so he dropped it soon after.

Logan sucked on the rooftop of his mouth, before stoutly nodding, and turned around to walk away. You’d mentioned he probably had school-related errands to run. Hah. As if Logan ever worked outside of the classes he taught. All he had in mind was to head over to a bar and drink as many beers as the barkeeper would allow him.

By the time he reached the doorway, Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks. He could feel your eyes watching him go, practically searing the skin on the back of his neck.

“God damn it,” he whispered quietly beneath his breath. He couldn’t just leave you alone. Not when his class thrust you into the spotlight like that. Definitely not because he felt an irrepressible urge to spend more time with you. And especially not because he thought that little grin of yours was so darned cute. Of course not.

He turned back to you with a set expression, jaw clenched tight. If you didn’t know any better, he appeared to be angry. Or constipated. One of the two.

Either way, you were surprised to hear him addressing you by the doorway, in a brusque tone.

“The school day’s over. I’m heading out to grab a drink. You wanna come with?”

It took you a moment to respond, a little too frazzled to formulate a coherent thought.

“Yeah,” you finally answered, slightly breathless. Logan pointedly looked away when you beamed at him. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

His thigh was pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him through his jeans. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which leaned against the bar’s countertop, palms cradled around his tenth (or was it his eleventh?) frosty mug of beer.

You were slowly nursing your fifth drink, snorting into the rim when Logan made an off-hand comment about how stupid Scott looked on one of their most recent missions.

“I take it you don’t like him?”

“Who?” Logan asked, turning his head so he could look at you. Beneath the dim amber-glow of the bar’s lighting, your skin appeared flushed, eyes just a tad brighter. You were too damned close to him.

Nose wrinkling, you nudged his shoulder with yours. “Scott, dummy.”

His eyebrow rose. “Why, do you want me to like him? Do you like him?”

The questions made you splutter beer all over the counter as you choke-laughed, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “You’re not answering my question, Lo.” You began giggling again, before downing the rest of your mug, swaying slightly on the leather stool. Logan had half a mind to clamp his palm over your thigh to keep you from tipping over.

“I like Scott, yeah. He’s nice. I know he has a thing for Jean though—I’ve been trying to convince him to ask her out but Scott keeps saying it isn’t the right time. Jean likes him all the same, too. They’re just really stupid.” A fond smile grew on your lips and you began laughing once more.

Logan watched you in amusement, just before ordering another beer for himself. You were a giggly drunk, Logan realized, as you buried your face into your hands as uncontrollable laughter shook through you.

“Alright, that’s enough drinks for you. What’s got you crackin’ up, bub?” Logan sighed in part-exasperation and part-mirth when you leaned back so far your stool began to capsize. He was quick to shoot his arm out and yank you back forward. This only made you laugh harder, for reasons unbeknownst to him.

“I just—” You had to pause to heave a breath through your cackling. “Your hair just looks so funny—why does it stand up like that?”

God, you were so drunk. Your hand reached out to pat down the tufts of hair sticking upwards, but missed the mark and instead brushed over his jaw, slightly prickly with day-old stubble.

Logan watched you carefully as your laughter died away, a strange look shadowing your once gleeful one. His eyes flickered down to your lips, which were parted ever so slightly in thought. “You look much younger than you used to—back in that tank.”

Gently, he captured your wrist and stroked his thumb over your palm once, before setting it back down by your side. “Let’s go home. You’re drunk.”

“Yes, sir. ” You mock-saluted as he helped you off the stool and offered his arm when you nearly toppled over your own feet.

You swayed to and fro when walking back to the mansion, hiccupping between every giggle as you told Logan about this one time Kurt teleported into the kitchen and scared you so badly you hit him with a frying pan. Logan let himself laugh at that one.

By the time the two of you reached your room, a good night was right on the tip of his tongue before it was yanked away from him when you grabbed him by the shirt collar and tugged him towards you in a drunken fashion, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system. A startled noise fell from his lungs, and the corner of your eyes wrinkled as you smiled. You swiftly planted a soft kiss to his cheek, nose slotted right against his cheekbone. He was frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react.

“You’re a sweetheart. Good night, Lo,” you murmured into his skin with a lopsided smile.

You were drunk. So very drunk.

Logan had to remind himself of this when you pulled away. You wouldn’t have done that if you were sober.

The door groaned as you pushed it open, moonlight spilling over your features. You promptly slammed the door in his face, and he heard you giggling behind it just a second after.

He wasn’t able to snap out of his reverie until an entire minute later.

“G’night, bub,” he mumbled, knowing full and well that you were probably passed out on top of your bed by now. No doubt you’d have a raging hangover tomorrow. He shook his head, before heading off to his own room, a warm sensation clawing at his chest.

The familiar voice of a certain professor rang out across the kitchen, and you groaned at the sudden noise. The hangover headache pulsating through your skull wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when you had initially woken up, but it was still there. And Charles most certainly wasn’t helping.

“Morning,” he exclaimed with a knowing smile, eyeing you with a look you misliked. You grumbled under your breath, before shoveling a spoonful of scrambled eggs into your mouth so you didn’t have to respond to him. Charles didn’t seem to mind, continuing his amiable chatter. “I noticed you weren’t in last night.”

Humming in confirmation, you lifted your mug to guzzle down more apple juice.

“Funny coincidence,” Charles quipped, wheeling up right beside you. Without even looking at him, you just knew that his eyebrows were raised suggestively. “Logan was also nowhere in the mansion yesterday.”

You scowled, then set the mug down. “We just had a couple drinks together.”

“Mmh, right.” Charles narrowed his eyes, clearly in disbelief. “Well, nice to see that the two of you have… warmed up to each other. I’ve got to head back now but don’t forget about our session at three—just because you’re hungover doesn’t mean you can skip out on me.”

A discontent noise erupted from your lungs and you stuck your tongue out at his back when he turned away.

“I saw that,” said Charles, amusement lacing his tone. “Well, I didn’t actually see it. I know you did it, though.”

And with that, he left.

You groaned, before lowering your head to rest against the cool kitchen countertop.

A moment later, a voice disrupted the rare-found quiet. Logan.

“You alright, bub?”

When you lifted your face up, you blinked away the colorful blurs spotting your vision, Logan coming into view. He was wearing a simple white tank top tucked into a pair of faded jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. You eyed his biceps warily, which glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. You swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat.

“I’m good. What’re you up to?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Logan replied sheepishly. “Was in the training room all night.”

He leaned against the doorway, a mild smile itching at his lips upon observing your disheveled state. Your hair was mussed, wearing a simple wrinkly white shirt and a pair of grey shorts. The expression on your face told him that you were still working off the hangover.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked, patting the seat beside you.

Logan pursed his lips, before moving towards you. “Yeah,” he said, swinging his leg over the chair. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The cold of the porcelain sent a shiver up your spine as you slumped against the toilet seat, grumbling under your breath. Logan watched you keenly as he dampened a towel, bunching it up in his hand, kneeling down in front of you.

Your first mission as an X-Man was nothing short of disastrous.

You’d warned Charles—told him you weren’t ready to use your powers in an uncontrolled setting—but he’d assured you that you’d be fine. Besides, the rest of your teammates were there for you.

Except the Brotherhood had taken down everybody else and you were the last person standing—and you lost control of your powers. Again.

It wasn’t until Logan stumbled towards you, pushing through the tornado of glass shards whirling around your hyperventilating form, barely even noticing the cuts appearing over his skin. His healing factor was quick to weave together the broken skin—all that mattered was getting to you. Your explosive powers were enough to severely alarm the Brotherhood, and they thankfully retreated soon after your outburst, though he doubted they’d stay away for too long.

Logan had grabbed you, pulling you close until your face was flush against his chest, cradling you atop the cold, hardened dirt, mumbling sweet nothings that you couldn’t really make out into your hair. When the air stilled, you pulled your face away, tear-stricken and bloodied.

The incident was far too similar to the first time you used your powers—when your best friend’s life was taken as a consequence.

A single, searing tear meandered down your face at the memory, and you bit down on your lip to quell the sob rising in your throat.

“Hey, bub.” Logan took your chin between his fingers, grounding you back to reality. It was just him and you—in a small bathroom. He was close, so close that you could see the buzzing lights reflected in the burnt umber of his irises, or how he had a small, faded birthmark just beside his left eye. He tilted your head up so you’d meet his concerned gaze. “It’s okay. You did good. You drove ‘em away. We would’ve all been in hot shit if it weren’t for you. Storm was knocked unconscious, Kitty and Rogue had their powers stripped away, Scott was no match against Quicksilver, and the rest of us were this close to being ripped apart. You did good.”

Your stomach lurched uneasily. “Feels more like I fucked everything up. I told Charles I wasn’t ready.”

Instead of a reply, Logan merely sighed, shaking his head. Softly he swiped the damp towel across the bloody gashes on your face, his fingers on your chin moving to cup your other cheek. His palm was cold against the flushed heat of your face.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered, the usual gruff tone of his voice nowhere to be found. “Wish you had the healing factor instead of me.”

“Nah,” you replied softly, wincing as you leaned forward, closer to him. The large slash over your abdomen from a broken metal pipe Magneto sent hurtling your way burned with every shift of your body. “You’d be dead a thousand times over if it weren’t for your healing factor. And I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

The towel on your cheekbone paused for a second. Logan scrutinized you for a moment, before returning to the task at hand. “Yeah, I guess I’m glad, too.”

A comfortable silence thickened between the two of you, only interrupted by your quiet groans of pain, which were always followed up by Logan’s sheepish apology.

“I still haven’t graded the kids’ homework papers—they’re expecting it back on Monday,” you gritted out, hand shooting forward to grip Logan’s shoulder, nails digging into his collarbone when he moved down to clean up the shallow wound across your torso.

He quirked an eyebrow towards you in amusement. “You’re crazy, you know that? Almost died today and all you’re thinkin’ about is grading papers. Pfft.”

“That’s not all I’m thinking about,” you weakly protested, smacking his hand away when he playfully pinched your thigh.

After wiping away all the crusted blood and dirt on your brand new X-Men suit, he was satisfied to see that your gash wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. He hauled himself onto the edge of the bathtub so he was sitting right across from you. “Yeah? What else are you thinking about?”

“You.” The single word came out as nothing but a low mutter.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or worried,” he replied with a roguish grin, pupils darting between your eyes and your raw-bitten lips.

You huffed out a laugh. “Maybe both.” His forehead leaned against yours as you breathed him in, relishing in his calming presence. “I really like you, Lo.”

Those five words were what spurred him to push forward, slanting his lips onto yours, stealing your breath away. You made a small noise of surprise, before practically melting into him, looping your sore arms over his neck and tugging him all the closer. He kissed you slowly, careful about where to place his hands, because your body was littered with fresh scars. He settled on just above your waist, smoothing his thumbs out over the back of your ribs, as if to constantly reassure himself that you were here. You were okay.

His nose bumped into yours, and it hurt to smile—oh, it practically burned with each kiss—but you smiled into him anyway. Because for Logan, it was worth the pain.

“Ow,” you lightly complained when he accidentally knocked his knee against your busted one. “Watch it, old man.”

A growl caught in his throat. “You know, I was gonna say I really liked you, too, but I don’t think that applies anymore.”

You burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at your stomach a second later, moaning out with pain. “Don’t make me laugh! You ass!”

He could only smile at that, roping you towards him once more with his fingers anchored over your jaw. This time, the kiss was hot and heavy, more confident. Your hands ran through his hair, gently tugging at his roots, which made pleasant shivers spider down his spine. It was needy with want, his kisses wandering from your lips to the apples of your cheeks, to your trembling throat.

The hand on your back was only starting to traverse downwards when the door flung open, revealing a smug Rogue and an awfully mortified Kurt just behind her.

“I knew it! I knew y’all were a thing!” Rogue called out, clapping her hands excitedly. “Scott totally owes me twenny bucks!”

She scuttled away gleefully, leaving the blue elf staring at the two of you with wide, amber eyes, completely still.

“You can close the door, Kurt,” you hesitantly told him, before Logan could snarl out something unsavory. You were uncomfortably perched halfway between the toilet seat and Logan’s lap, with his hand flush over your ass.

“Er… right… I’ll just use the bathroom upstairs,” he breathily stumbled, before teleporting away in a hazy cloud of sulphuric fumes.

“Damn elf didn’t close the door. Of fuckin’ course.” Logan groaned, pulling himself away from you with a scowl. “You alright, darlin’?”

An embarrassed grin replaced the initial shock of being found. “Yeah, I think so. You?”

“Worst night of my life. The entire school’s gonna know by tomorrow,” Wolverine grumbled, before fondly glancing towards you. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, though.”

You hobbled up with his support, pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek. “You think the entire team bet money on us?”

“Oh, yeah,” Logan chortled as he helped you out of the communal bathroom, heading upstairs to your bedroom. “Charlie bet a hundred bucks on us. I heard him talking to Storm about it.”

You side-eyed him with amusement. “So did he win?”

“Nope,” Logan said, popping the ‘p’, looking far too smug to be ripping away a hundred dollars from his old friend. “Thought neither of us would have the balls to confess until next month.”

“You’re sick,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Did you kiss me just to spite him?”

“I kissed you because I wanted to,” countered Logan, shoving the door to your room open with his shoulder. “Professor losing a hundred bucks was just the cherry on top, you know?”

You sank onto your bed, dragging Logan with you, barely giving him enough time to slam the door shut. “Yeah,” you mumbled, pulling him into yet another kiss. “You’re awful, Lo.”

“Love you, too.”

Placing your hand on his chest, you pulled away hesitantly, unsure if you heard him right. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled, all warm and genuine. “Yeah.”

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

The Breaking Point | Logan Howlett

logan howlett x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: The reader and Logan have been bantering since the moment they met, and the other members of the X-Men have had enough of the tension and arguments. They decide to take matters into their own hands and shove the two towards the ultimate breaking point.

A/N: I swear on everything that I love that I started this one shot with every intention for it to be just fluff and yet it STILL gets angsty. At this point, I think I have a chronic condition of liking to write about hurt. Well, it led to this beautiful little gem of a story so I'll allow it. Love you and all and keep up with the dreaming 🤍

Warnings: fluffiest fluff i've written in a while, angst near the end, endless banter

Word Count: 4,850

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

Have you ever hated someone so much that when they walk into the room all you want to do is punch them in the nuts?

Yeah, me too. Only problem? No matter how hard I punch him, I could never permanently wound him.

"Could you eat any louder? I'm genuinely curious."

I ignore Logan's rumble of a voice, gritting my teeth to keep from starting a fight in the middle of our team dinner. As we sit in the large dining room of Charles Xavier's mansion and school, I focus intently on the noodles before me and not the annoying wolf-man across the table. The X-Men around us keep talking, Logan and I's arguments a normal occurrence in the Mansion.

"God, you're so annoying," Logan mutters, and I drop my fork, staring at him wide-eyed from across the table.

"I didn't even do anything! How could I possibly be annoying you?" I exclaim, my voice incredulous. He gives me a curt smile and damn it if it doesn't still make my heart turn molten. That last tidbit only makes me more infuriated since I can't even control my body around him.

"I think it's just your presence, sweetheart," Logan responds with a wink.

"My presence?" I laugh, grabbing my fork again and pointing it at the man across from me, "At least I'm not the one with a personality that ranges from grumpy to grumpier."

"I'm only grumpy around you," He quips.

"I mean, do you just enjoy being a giant, walking storm cloud? I bet babies scream when you walk past."

Scott chokes on his food beside me to hide his laugh. Neither Logan nor I seem to notice that the table's gone somewhat silent to revel in our showdown.

"No, but I make women scream all the time."

It's Rogue's turn to let out a surprised cough. Despite myself, I find my cheeks heating. I'm glad for being in the midst of an argument, though, so the flushing of my cheeks gives away nothing.

"In terror? I'm sure," I coolly respond, stabbing a piece of chicken to keep from stabbing the Wolverine. Logan sits back in his chair, a smug, heart-twisting smirk on his face.

"Whatever you tell yourself, Y/N." He nods his head towards me, those damn hazel eyes burning into my soul without even trying, "We both know you dream of me every night."

"Oh I do," I concede, painting a look of desperation on my face that makes his brows furrow, "Every night I dream of how I could kill you,"

Logan rolls his eyes, but I see his jaw clenching nonetheless and smirk, knowing I've gotten under his skin.

"Even if I could die, you couldn't kill me if you tried, sweetheart."

I nod my head in acknowledgment, but then reach out with my powers to his food and with a single thought, I order the atoms to rearrange from his dinner and into a fat, squirming toad. He lets out a small noise of surprise and shoves back from the table as the toad hops down and skitters away.

"No, but maybe I'll turn you into a toad like your stir-fry, sweetheart." I look off in the distance, plastering on my best thinking face, "Do you think you'd still have claws? That'd be-"

"That's it," He growls, shoving away from the table and letting his claws rip out. This sends our team from amused observation to panicked mediation. I shove myself up to, holding my arms out.

"What are you gonna do, wolf boy? Come on, try!" I taunt. Chairs are screeching all along the table as our friends shoot to their feet, voices crying out to placate us.

"Calm down you two!"

"What are you, children?"

"Not again! We can't afford to keep buying new dinner tables!"

Logan jumps deftly onto the table, stalking across it and knocking over food as he does until he jumps back down on my side, getting into my face. I stand my ground, bringing him nose-to-nose with me as I glare up at him. The air is charged with tension between us, waiting to snap. My fogged brain doesn't if I want to punch him or...

I shake away the other thought, trying to forget about it.

"Oh I'll show you what I'll do," Logan whispers, the rasp in his voice running down my spine and knocking my heart from rhythm.

"That is enough!" Charles shouts, and the room goes silent immediately. Logan clenches his jaw and looks over to Charles as I do the same. The professor sighs, hanging his head and massaging his temple as if he's developed a massive headache.

"Good Lord, if only you two could hear what was whizzing between your minds. That was so confusing." Professor Xavier huffs out a sigh before wheeling over in front of us.

"Y/N, go find the toad you turned Logan's dinner into and please refrain from turning him into one as well," Charles orders. Logan snickers, probably about to egg on to his statement before Charles turns his head sharply towards him.

"Logan, please refrain from aggravating Miss Y/L/N. I much prefer you as a man, not an amphibian. Although you would be quieter," He adds on, making me snort. I send Logan a pointed look, which he just rolls his eyes to and looks back to Charles.

"You two need to learn to at the very least tolerate each other," the Professor commands, shaking his head incredulously, "You work so well together on missions and you'd be such great...friends if you would just set down this petty feud. Now go to bed both of you, think about ways you can be more civil."

He turns and wheels away, leaving Logan and I standing tensely beside each other and feeling like scolded children. With a shake of my head, I turn and make my way towards my room which just so happens to be right across from Logan's. He trails me, his silent presence overbearing on my mind and heart.

"You ever seen the Professor that flustered?" I ask, desperate to break the charged air between us. Logan lets out a short laugh from beside me.

"I thought his head was gonna explode."

I smile, casting a glance over at the Wolverine, "You'll make him go crazy."

We stop in front of our doors and Logan turns to look down at me, cocking an eyebrow amusedly, "Me? Sweetheart, you're just as bad as I am."

Something about the way he looks at me makes my heart trip. Maybe it's the proximity I don't think either of us realizes, or maybe it's the smirk that drives me crazy, but I take a subtle step back before I do something I'll regret.

"Careful, Howlett. I'll still turn you into a toad," I warn. His smirk turns into that damn half-smile that makes my stomach wild with butterflies.

"Don't let the Professor hear you say that, Y/N. You won't be his favorite anymore,"

I laugh, walking back towards my door, "I think you've been his favorite since the moment you crashed through our doors."

Logan lifts an eyebrow at me, "Is that why you hate me?"

I freeze, a weird, strangling sensation settling into my chest. Does he...does he really think that I hate him?

"Logan," I start, my eyes growing serious in a way that makes the teasing smirk drop from his face, "Logan, do you think I hate you?"

He clenches his jaw, turning more serious than I've ever seen him be. In the hazel of his eyes, I see horrors of the decades he's lived on this Earth flash through his gaze. It makes my heart drop to the floor, and I almost walk over and pull him into a hug.

"It's better if you do." He almost whispers, and then turns and walks into his room, shutting the door behind him.

I stand frozen for a moment in the hallway, trying to work through what he just said. Shaking my head with a sigh, I turn and enter my own room. That night, as I get ready for bed, I can't get my mind off of the Wolverine.

Something stirs in my chest, because the Professor isn't wrong about what he said earlier. From the first moment Logan and I met, we fit together so well that it terrified me. Not to mention that he was breathtakingly attractive in a rugged sort of way that made my inhibitions turn to mush. My attraction stayed for a grand total of ten minutes when he began to argue and pick on me like a seventh grade boy.

I tell everyone that I hate him, that I can't stand him. And I can't, that's true. The whole truth, though? The whole truth is that he only annoys me because I have no control over my body, thoughts, and feelings when I'm around him. I've always managed to keep romance to a one-night-stand sort of level, but every time I banter with Logan something in me craves his easy nature and the way he takes no shit. I need his banter like I need the air I breathe, because without it I feel like I'll get lost in the mundane of my routine. Logan makes me feel...alive in ways that I can't explain. And, as much as he'd never admit it, he's got the softest, kindest heart out of anyone I know.

And sometimes...sometimes I feel like he argues with me to keep me at a distance.

My proof? Every time we have a rare civil conversation like the one we just had, he shuts down for a few days with me. He avoids me, and then when he can't anymore, his usually petty and teasing insults turn grumpier than usual and more charged. It's almost like every time we naturally gravitate closer, Logan shoves us apart.

The only question is why?

|||

Later That Week

"Hey Y/N, I need your help."

I turn my gaze from the papers I'm grading from the science class I teach at the school to Jean who's just walked into my classroom. A smile blooms on my face and I stand from my chair, leaning against my desk as she walks over to me.

"Yeah, anything. What's up?"

"It's Scott and I's anniversary tomorrow night and the Professor just booked me for a mission. Do you think you could cover it for me? I know it's so last minute but Scott and I have had this night planned for weeks," Jean explains.

"Yeah, of course! You need a break as it is," I inform, smiling wryly at my friend, "Go have fun with Scotty. I've got it covered."

A relieved, ecstatic smile explodes onto her face and she rushes forward, pulling me into a hug, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the actual best!"

I laugh, hugging her back before moving back towards my desk chair to continue grading.

"Anytime. Just send over the details tonight," I reply. She nods, affirming she'll do so before thanking me again and breezing out of the room to probably go tell Scott the good news.

|||

The Next Night

I hum to myself as I collect the supplies I'll need for the mission tonight. My hands are busy as I traipse through the supply room in the basement of the Mansion, grabbing various weapons and medical supplies and stashing them in the duffle bag I've got planted on the table in the center of the room.

Storm is set to be on the mission with me, and told me that she'd be getting the jet ready while I grabbed the supplies. So, once the duffle is packed, I sling it over my shoulders and make my way over the hanger. Just as she said, the jet sits humming and ready, the coordinated no doubt already punched in. The back hatch rests open, beckoning me in. As I walk up the ramp and into the belly of the jet, my eyes search for Ororo.

"Storm?" I call out, my brows furrowed as I search the cockpit. When I don't see her, I shrug. She must be grabbing something.

In the mean time, I stash the duffle into an overhead compartment. Just as I step back from doing so, an air-capturing presence enters the jet.

"You've got to be shitting me."

My heart hits the actual floor and I drop my head.

"This isn't happening," I mutter to myself before turning to see Logan standing in the entrance of the jet.

Like I predicted, he hasn't talked to me since the dinner incident. He'd barely stay in the same room as me, so seeing him sends an unwelcome bolt of joy through my soul. My stupid, traitorous heart flips in my chest at the sight of him.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I could ask you the same thing," He grits out, setting down a duffle that matches the one I made, "I'm covering for Jean."

Everything suddenly snaps into focus. I blow out a breath, shaking my head.

"That little traitor," I grumble, before looking at a confused and aggravated Logan, "I'm covering for Jean too."

The realization hits him at the same time and he shakes his head. He turns to exit the open hatch of the jet, eager to get as far away from me as fast as possible.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't make a sudden shot of hurt explode in my chest.

"Fuck this," Logan mutters, but before he can leave, the door to the jet shuts. He stumbles back, a confused look overtaking his features.

"What the-"

That's when the engine revs to life.

I jog over to the empty cockpit to see the controls lighting up and the auto-pilot system taking over. Before either of us can do anything, since neither of us know how to fly, the jet is pulling out of the hanger and lifting into the sky to God knows where. I step back, shaking my head and looking over to where Logan has stepped up beside me. We share a knowing look.

"Storm." We say in sync. As if on cue, a voice radios in from the controls.

"Come in lovebirds, do you copy?" Storms amused voice announces. I grit my jaw and lean forward to respond.

"Storm, take us down or I swear-"

"No can do, you two need some bonding time." That was another voice, the Professor's voice. Shock crashes over me.

"Professor, you too?" Logan sputters.

"You two will learn to behave at the very least. Hopefully being stuck together will help the team spirit." He responds.

"Stuck together?" I question, my brows furrowing in confusion, "But the mission said that-"

"Oh there's no mission. The jet's set to fly a round trip for the night." Jean pipes in.

"Like hell it is! Bring us down right now!" Logan growls out, and I almost laugh at the bit of fear in his eyes. He's always been uncomfortable flying and I've always made fun of him for it. It's at least of some consolation to know this is how we're stuck together.

"I'm sorry, you're breaking up. What was that?" Storm asks, amusement lacing her tone.

"Ororo-" I start.

"I can't...must be...signal's going..."

Anyone could tell she's faking it.

"When I get back, you're all spending the weekend as cockroaches!" I call out.

"Have fun!" Jean and Storm call back before the line cuts out.

Logan begins muttering to himself before settling down in the pilot's chair and fiddling with random buttons. My eyes widen suddenly and I lurch forward, grabbing his arm.

"What the hell are you doing? Trying to get us killed? Neither of us know how to work this thing!" I object. He shakes off my touch and stands, towering over me and making me stumble back a few steps. He matches me for every one until I finally find my ground.

"There's no way in hell I'm staying trapped up here with you," Logan spits, and yet again my stupid heart flinches at the low blow.

I must flinch slightly in reaction as well, because some of the anger drains from Logan's face, being replaced with something I can't quite place. He sighs, cursing himself before taking a step closer to me.

"Y/N, I didn't mean it like-"

"No, it's fine." I cut him off, giving him a curt smile and cursing myself for not being able to hide the hurt. I take a few steps back and turn, walking into the belly of the jet, "Let's just get through this night."

I can practically feel Logan's unspoken words hanging in the air before I hear him sigh and mumble something to himself. I drop down into one of the chairs in the back, propping my feet up on the empty chair next to me and letting my eyes slip closed. I so desperately want to be able to sleep the night away to avoid any more interactions with Logan that can break my heart open and reveal the feelings I've denied for months. As I sit with my eyes shut, though, time passes and I can't seem to find sleep.

Maybe it has something to do with the domineering presence in the chair across from mine.

I can feel his gaze burning into me without even opening my eyes, can feel the way he wants to break the tense silence that settles over the cabin of the jet. The air is so thickly charged that I think for a moment that one spark could set the jet on fire. When I finally have had so much of the silence that I can barely take it anymore, I let out a sigh.

"Why do you do that?" I ask, my eyes still shut. The silence turns still.

"Do what?" He grumbles back. I drop my feet from the seat and open my eyes, turning forward so we face each other in the cabin.

"Every time I start to think we can be friends, you shut down. You ignore me and whenever you do talk to me you're as cold as ice with a temper that could make Hell freeze over." I don't hold back, so fed up with the same cyclic behavior from the last few years of knowing Logan.

"Y/N," Logan starts, then goes silent for a long while. Finally, his almost...tortured gaze meets mine, "We can't be friends. We'll never be friends."

I thought what he'd said before hurt, but that was a scrape compared to the knife he just shoved in my heart and twisted. I clench my jaw to keep from visibly recoiling again at the blow.

It's getting too much. It's all getting too much. The tension, the attraction, the long silences and bursts of charisma that make me want to crawl into his arms and stay forever. I can't take how off and on he is with me, I just can't. Not when I'm beginning to realize that I want him so desperately and not just physically or not just when he's in a good mood. I want every part of him because he makes me feel like I'm someone, because I feel like I was asleep until I met him. And to see the way he can so blatantly disregard me and shut down with me and say that...say that we can't even be friends?

It's too much. I can't take it.

My emotions bubble over and I make a small, tortured sound before shoving to my feet and storming to the back of the jet. I make sure to keep my back firmly to him to hide the angry and heartbroken tears that begin to well up from his keen eyes, but there's no mistaking my sharp intake of breath and shuddering shoulders.

"Y/N," his voice is like a poisonous honey, killing me slowly and soothing my very soul as it breaks me, "Y/N, just talk to me."

I let out a humorless laugh and whirl around to see him on his feet and walking over. When he sees the tears in my eyes and my emotions painted clearly, I know I can't hide from him. He freezes in his step, his hazel eyes like burning fires and every muscle in his body tensed as if he were holding them taut to keep him from doing something.

"No, don't-" I cut myself off in time to shove down the sob that wants to shudder through me, "You have no right. You have no right to keep pulling me in and-and shoving me away. I can't take it anymore, I can't"

The tension has finally reached its snapping point and I'm breaking first, I don't even care anymore. His face is impossible to read and it burns because I can't exactly storm away from him when we're tens of thousands of feet in the sky.

"Sweetheart, listen I-"

That's my breaking point.

"No, don't you dare 'sweetheart' me," I grit out, not even bothering to stop the burning hot tears that race down my cheeks, "God, you don't even get it, do you?"

Logan's face is one of pure shock and pain—pain for what, I can't place. What I can see is the way his large hands keep flexing and unflexing, almost as if he's using every muscle to keep from walking up to me. His jaw is clenched so tight that I'm surprised his teeth don't crack. I dig my hands into my hair and groan in frustration before dropping them back down to my sides. I don't even give him a chance to respond.

"Every time you mess with me, every time you speak to me, every time you're even near me, Logan you are pushing me further and further down a very steep cliff and I can't stop it, I have tried." I take a gasping breath, not even caring that I'm baring every feeling to him that I haven't even processed with myself yet, "And you keep ignoring me and saying we can't be friends and then the next thing I know you're messing with me again and-"

"I'm not trying to hurt you, sweet-" He stops himself briefly, changing the word he was going to use, "Y/N. You just have to understand-"

"You are breaking me, Logan!" I shout, my vision blurring from the unbridled tears, "I am falling in love with you and you are breaking me!"

He goes as silent as death before me, everything within him going still. I don't seem to notice, and even if I did, I wouldn't care. I'm halfway past shattering and I can barely control myself. Years of pent up emotion is spilling out, and damn it I'm going turn all of my friends back at the Mansion into worms.

"What did you just say?" His voice is no more than a whisper, but I'm not listening.

"Let me hate you," I beg, my voice beseeching for mercy and my fists itching to slam into his stupid, perfect face, "Please, why can't I hate you?"

That's when Logan breaks.

"Fuck it all," he suddenly growls, making my breath hiccup and my gaze snap up to him. My stomach flips sharply when I see him storming up to me so suddenly that I can't even back up.

"Logan, what-"

"Shut up." He orders, and he reaches me in seconds.

The moment he does, one of his hands cups my face and the other snakes around my waist, tugging me so close to him that I can feel every ridge and curve of his muscles. I barely have time to breathe when he tilts my head up with his hand and crashes his lips to mine.

Instantly I'm on fire.

I can't stop the small moan that leaves my lips, swallowed by his as he kisses me so desperately and passionately that my knees would buckle if it weren't for his iron grip on my waist. He bites my bottom lip softly and uses the gasp I let out to deepen the kiss. Every fiber of me is trembling and my body is on fire. Everywhere he touches me is pure desire and lightning and passion and I can barely catch my breath. He must feel the same because he reluctantly pulls away, leaving us both panting in the silence.

My lips are swollen and my body shaking, leaving me holding on to Logan desperately to ground myself to this instant, to convince myself that was real. The charge is too strong, and like opposite ends of a magnet our lips end up together again. This time, he pulls back just enough so our lips are still touching.

"I'm so sorry," He breathes against my lips, sealing the apology with a quick kiss, "I'm so sorry."

I pull away, capturing his face in my hands and staring at him with furrowed, confused brows. My unspoken desire for an explanation is clearly picked up, and he shakes his head, moving both of his hands to my waist. Where his hands hold me burns in the best way, in a way that makes me never want to pull away.

"Everyone I have ever cared for, everyone I have ever let myself love, has been taken from me," Logan whispers brokenly, and I stop breathing. I don't dare to believe what his words spell out so clearly, but instead let him keep talking as if to prove me wrong.

He doesn't.

"That's why I kept shoving you away, that's why we could never be friends. Because if we were, I could never live with just being friends with you"

"Logan, what are you saying?" I whisper, my eyes wide and my heart racing so fast that I actually fear it might give out on me. His nose nudges mine before he pulls back, letting his eyes burn into mine so I can see the truth in them, the meaning and the sincerity.

"Y/N, I have been in love with you since the moment I met you."

This time, my knees do buckle briefly. Thankfully, his arms around my waist hold me until I manage to hold my own weight again.

"You-you love me?"

A sweet smile that I want to take a picture of and hold close forever spreads onto his lips.

"Always."

I pull him down so our lips meet again, and for the first time in months my soul is at peace. What's been devouring me slowly finally stops as everything makes perfect sense. When I pull away, I lean my forehead against his.

"You're not gonna lose me." I vow, then pull back to raise an eyebrow at him, "But if you ever shove me away out of fear of losing me again, I will turn you into a cat and keep you as the kids' class pet."

A genuine, heart-healing laugh erupts from him, lighting up Logan's face in a way that makes me fall in love all over again. We just stay like that for a moment, his arms around my waist and mine back around his neck, our bodies molded together and our breath mingling.

"You think they're watching a live feed of this right now?" I ask, not pulling away an inch.

The radio crackles back to life and Storm's voice fills the jet, "That would be an affirmative, love birds. Mission Wedding Bells is a success."

We both chuckle, and Logan turns his head towards the direction of the cockpit, where the camera probably is. With all the gentlemanliness he can muster, he unsheathes only his middle claw, flipping the entire team out. I laugh dropping my head onto his chest.

He cups my face and turns it up to face him, cocking an eyebrow at me, "What?"

It only makes me laugh harder and his body rumbles with laughter against mine, "Come here, sweetheart."

He slings an arm across my shoulders and walks me back to the cockpit. As we do, I think of that first moment we met. An amused smile tugs at my lips and I shake my head slightly.

"What are you smiling about?" Logan asks. I look up at him, amusement dancing among my features.

"When you saw me turn that creep paparazzi in the front lawn into a pigeon, that's when you fell in love with me?"

He chuckles, kissing my cheek and making me wonder if this is what bliss is.

"I took one look at you scolding him and then tending to the kids like a mother and knew I was in trouble."

I laugh, leaning into his side, "You realize we have to let the Professor tell us 'I told you so', right?"

"Over my dead body," Logan stiffens, his words final. I snort.

"Good thing you can't die."

And for the first time since I met Logan, my traitorous, knowing heart was settled.

#wolverine x reader #wolverine #x men #ororo munroe #james howlett #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #angst #fluff #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fluff #imagine #oneshot #one shot #banter #enemies to lovers

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make-me-imagine · 2 years

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If You'll Have Me

Prompt: “What is it about me that isn’t good enough?” Requested By: @spuffyfan394 (Mystery prompt Brown 10)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN!Reader

Plot: Y/n can no longer handle hiding their feelings around Logan, convinced that he still has feelings for Jean. So, they decide it might be best if they leave for a while. Logan, who overhears this, tries to convince Y/n to stay, not understanding that he is the reason they want to leave.

Warnings: Self-doubt and lack of confidence from reader.

Words: 1.8k

You tried to stop yourself from looking, but your curiosity and anxiety kept forcing your eyes back to them. The tightness in your chest was almost unbearable as you saw Jean giggle at Logan's comment. Logan had a familiar fond smile on his face as he looked at her.

No matter how many times the others tried to convince you that Logan was over Jean, and that Jean held no feelings for him, you couldn't help but doubt it.

Jean was everything you weren't, and you doubted that Logan ever saw anything as appealing in you, as he did in Jean. You never saw him look at you the way he looked at her.

Tearing your eyes away from them, you forced yourself to walk away, to go somewhere else. You needed to get him out of your mind. You were tired of the pain you were causing yourself every time you thought of him. You hated that you allowed your fondness for Logan to evolve from feelings of friendship, to a desire for more.

He made you laugh, and smile more than any other. He made you feel safe, and brought out your strengths when you doubted yourself. He was a great and loyal friend, but you wanted more. You wanted what you could not have, and it hurt more every day.

You were unaware of Ororo's eyes on you as you made your way up to your room. She frowned as she saw how clearly upset you were about something.

As you got to your room, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. Letting out a long breath you sat on the edge of your bed and looked out the window. You wouldn't cry. You refused. This was your own fault, and you would hold it, let it teach you a lesson.

Hearing a light knock on your door, you felt uneasy. With your luck that wold be Logan or Jean. Neither of which you wanted to see right now. You stayed quiet, and still.

"Y/n? It's Ororo."

You let out a breath of relief as you heard her voice. Standing, you walked to the door, and slowly pulled it open, meeting her concerned gaze.

She smiled softly at you. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty upset."

Letting her enter the room, you closed the door behind her, wondering if you should tell her. Looking over at her, you saw her watching you patiently.

Shaking your head, you walked back towards the window. "It's stupid."

"If it made you upset, it's not stupid. Come on Y/n, I'm your friend, talk to me."

Sighing you sat back on your bed, waiting for her to sit beside you. You spoke cautiously, with a hint of shame. "I just saw Logan and Jean together, talking and laughing and I just...let it get to me. And I know that your just gonna say there is nothing between them, and that they are just friends. But the fact is, that there was something between them. At least from Logan's side. And I don't think that Logan could ever feel that way for me. Not like he did for her. And I hate that I have these feelings, and I can't make them go away."

Reaching over, she set her hands over yours. "There is nothing wrong with feeling Y/n. Even if it hurts. I wish I could tell you that you're wrong, but I can't. I don't know if Logan see's you like you want. I know that he adores you, that he appreciates your friendship and that he would never purposefully hurt you, but I also know that might not be enough."

You nodded your head softly. "Sometimes I wish he didn't think about me at all. That I was nothing to him. That would make it easier to accept. But he treats me so kindly, and I know he cares for me, but it's hard knowing I feel more than he does." Looking down at your feet, you let out a long breath.

----

Logan walked towards your room, hoping he would find you there. He had expected you to be in the library or sitting room, but found you in neither. And no one seemed to know where you were. He had begun feeling an odd sense of restlessness the longer he went without seeing you.

He slowed in step as he heard your voice from inside. Were you with someone? In your room, door closed? He felt jealousy clench at his chest, as he listened closer. He probably shouldn't, he was invading your privacy, but he couldn't help himself.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ororo asked.

Logan felt relief wash over him, it was just Storm. Deciding he should leave, he began to turn away when your voice met his ears and he stopped.

"Is there any chance you can send me somewhere else?"

Logan felt his heart palpitate, as anxiety filled his chest. You wanted to leave the school? Why? What was happening?

"You think leaving would help?"

He heard you sigh. "I don't know, maybe? I mean, I wish I could get out of my own head about it. But I just can't stop doubting myself. These stupid thoughts plague me every day, every time I see him. I can't stop thinking, what is it about me that isn’t good enough?"

Logan felt his chest tighten. Who were you talking about? Had you been with someone and he didn't know it? Did you break up with them? No, it sounded more like they hurt you. Why hadn't you told him? He felt a mix of anger and jealously wash over him.

"If that's what you really want, I can talk to the Professor. Maybe he can send you somewhere for a while."

"Thanks Ororo."

Logan turned to leave, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't just let you leave. Why couldn't the bastard that hurt you leave? Who was it? He knew most of the teachers, but never really recalled seeing you with one more often than the others.

He'd have to talk to you. Convince you to stay. He couldn't imagine this place without you, he would hate it. You made it so much better. You were the heart of this place to him, you made it feel more like home for him. He couldn't let you leave.

-------------

Staring out at the school grounds as the light of the full moon cascaded over the trees, you wondered if you really should leave. This place as your home, you loved it. But you hated that most of your days were spent with an ache in your heart.

Hearing a soft knock behind you, you turned to see Logan leaning in the doorway, watching you. You felt your chest tighten.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hi." You responded with a soft smile before you looked back out at the campus grounds.

Logan walked over to you, and leaned on the balcony beside you. "I've been looking for you."

Your heart palpitated 'Why?' You glanced over at him "Oh yeah?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright."

You felt a pang in your chest. Finally looking over at him, you feigned confusion. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"

Logan smiled softly at you, "I was looking for you earlier today too, and I went to your room to see if you were there. And...I overheard your conversation with Storm."

You felt anxiety cascade through your chest as you tried to keep your face from showing your shock. Before you could speak, Logan continued.

"Look, I don't know what jack-ass hurt you, but there is no reason you should let him chase you away. This is your home and you can't leave. Not because of anyone."

A sense of realization washed over you as you figured out he had only heard the end of your conversation with Ororo. He had no idea the guy you had been talking about was him.

"Logan-"

"I know you are going to try and make excuses, but listen to me." He faced you "You are the best part of this place, if anyone should leave it's him."

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you let out a laugh as you ran your hands over your face. "Logan-" you shook your head "I was talking about you."

You saw a mixture of confusion and realization cross his face. You knew you couldn't stop now, so you started to explain to him what you had been holding back.

You took in a deep breath before you started. "My feelings for you changed months ago Logan. But I can't keep ignoring them, and pushing them aside. Especially when I have to see you and Jean every day. Living with the uncertainty of how you feel about her. And knowing that you can never feel the same way about me. Knowing that I can never be what you want. "

Logan felt an almost overwhelming mix of guilt, confusion and excitement as he listening to you speak. He never thought that you felt anything for him, not like he felt for you.

"This is my home, but I can't keep feeling like this. So maybe it's best if I leave for a while, just so I can get over this-"

You were cut off as Logan suddenly stepped forward and grabbed you, pulling you against his chest as he kissed you. Your mind went blank as you felt shock wash over you. By the time you fully grasped what happened, Logan pulled away, staring down at you.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "All this time I had no idea that you felt anything for me, or that you thought I still had feelings for Jean. But I don't, I promise I don't. All feelings I've had recently have been for you, and no one else."

You opened your mouth to speak, but struggling to find words. "I- for me?"

He nodded softly as he gently caressed your face. "I wanted to tell you, to show you. But I didn't know if I should. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. But if I had known I was causing you pain, I would have told you, I'm sorry that I hurt you so much you thought you had to leave."

You shook your head. "It's not your fault Logan, I know you never would have hurt me on purpose." You paused, before speaking softly with a hint of uncertainty. "So, you don't have feelings for Jean?"

He shook his head softly. "I haven't since I got to know you. Me and Jean are just friends, nothing more. I don't want anyone but you. If you'll have me that is."

A smile spread slowly across your face and you nodded lightly, "I'll have you."

He grinned down at you as he brought his hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him. As your chest pressed against him, his lips met yours. You felt a great sense of excitement and relief flow through you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

xx End xx

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greenbloodvulcan · 1 year

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Same Mistakes (Logan x Reader)

GIF: @asgardswinter

Description: Calming him down during the nightmares

A/N: I’m on my Logan kick and when the obsession is niche enough sometimes you have to write it yourself soooo enjoy.

You always felt it before you heard it. The sudden spastic movements that rocked the bed and had you peering around in the dark half awake and confused. The screams that followed quickly took care of the lethargy and you were scrambling to get out from under the sheets and off the bed. You turned the bedside lamp on and stood at the foot of the bed, your heart falling at the sight of the man you loved; face contorted and covered in a sheen of sweat. You reached out for his leg, shaking him as you called his name, “Logan! You’re ok, it’s me. You're ok.”

It’s always enough to wake him. He sits up quickly, his arm outstretched and raised above his head, the familiar sound of metal breaking skin cutting through the sound of his heavy breaths. His frantic eyes soften when they land on you in the soft yellow light, his arm dropping immediately. He opens his mouth to apologize, but you shoot him a knowing look.

You come around the bed then, lifting yourself up and onto his lap, taking his face in your hands. You hate seeing him like this; hate the defeated look in his eyes and the way you can see the wheels in his mind turning, hating himself for not being able to stop it when you’re inches away from him every night. “Hey,” you whisper, waiting for those hazel eyes to meet yours. “None of that. There is nothing you can do that’s going to turn me away. Nothing.”

“One of these days I’m going to-,” he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Your reach for his hand, pulling it into your lap, fingers delicately gliding over the smooth metal. You press a kiss to each of his knuckles before he drops his hand and retracts the claws, both hands coming up your back to pull you into a crushing hug, his chest heaving as he buries his face into your neck. You run your hands through his graying hair, not saying anything just holding him. He pulls away from you after a while, his red rimmed eyes focused on you with an intensity that makes you blush like you haven’t been together for years. “I’ll always choose you,” you tell him firmly, letting your fingers trace the planes of his chest, lingering over the aftermath of bullet holes.

That earns you a chuckle and Logan shakes his head, “Some people can’t help but make the same mistake,” his mouth twists up slightly at the corners and you see the same man you knew all those years ago. “Well then, consider me a fool,” you murmur, rolling off of him and burrowing into his side, doubling down on the previous sentiment. “Every. Single. Time.”

Logan’s breathing has regulated and you take comfort in the steady rhythm of his heart, the warmth radiating from his skin and the kisses he presses into your hair. “I’m here as long as you’ll have me, kid.”

Check out my other, much longer Logan one shot here

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callsignangelxx · 8 months

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Dark Phoenix

Logan Howlett x Fem!Phoenix force!OFC

Chapter One: Strange Visions

Chapter Summary: Layla Xavier, Xavier's daughter, was Born with The Phoenix Force Powers and Telekinetic Abilities along with some of Telepathy, But comes in contact with a Dark energy force after seeing Visions.

Synopsis: Layla Xavier becomes the Dark Phoenix after coming in contact with a strange Dark energy force, Dialing her abilities up to a Hundred, Logan Notices something is up when she runs from the Mansion.

Warnings: Nightmares, Visions, Telekinetic abilities, Dark Phoenix, Phoenix force, Military and Police, Telepathy.

Characters: Jean grey, Logan Howlett, Scott summers, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank MCcoy, Mystique, Storm.

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

It Started Out with Small Visions that came from Her Telepathy Abilities, Xavier was still Trying to figure them out, they first came in blurry Pictures and Images of a single dark energy force, but Neither Layla nor Xavier could figure them out.

Later on Layla started Hearing weird Voices in her head, not like normal other Mutant Voices she Usually heard along with her Telepathic abilities, but different dark voices, Like the Phoenix Personality Inside of her. Xavier started to get worried about this considering how strong The Phoenix is, But Layla Promised him that she was okay, and that she could control it.

Then a couple of weeks later her Personality and Behavior started changing, she was becoming rude to the other Mutants in the Mansion, she was even rude to one her best friends, Jean, Logan Noticed it the most though, she would get angry and cause her Telekinesis to go a bit out a control knocking things around off Tables or causing metal tables to crush or compact.

It only got worse, It was like the Phoenix itself was trying to come out, the personality side anyways, which worried All of the X-Men, Jean especially since she knew what that was Like. Jean even Tried to talk to her about it.

“Layla, I can help you..” Jean had Stopped her on her way back to her room, “I can Help you control it..”

“I don’t need your help..” Layla snapped back, Stomping away, Jean wouldn’t stop, she wanted to help Layla. “Layla, Please.. All of us our worried, you can’t let it control you.. Please let us help you fix it.”

In one moment the Phoenix Took over as she Turned around in a Fury, Souless black eyes started into Jean’s Brown ones. It was Dark then Just the Phoenix, it was dark, a Dark Phoenix, Corrupted. “I don’t want to fix it.” She hissed. “This Overwhelming power is Mine.. all mine.. I don’t want to fix it..” her Voice was Demonic.

In one flick of her wrist, Jean was Pushed back, as Layla stormed off to her room, leaving Jean in shock of what she Just saw. Xavier and the rest of the X-Men were warned about this.

Days Passed and things Seemed to get worse, Layla wasn’t sleeping, she would wonder around the X-mansion alone all night, and then Sleep all day.

One Rainy day everything hit the Ceiling, right before everyone else went to bed, in one Powerful burst Layla Broke out her window and Ran away from the Mansion, The Dark Phoenix Tainting her Decisions and her Mind.

Storm was the first to walk into her room, Gasping at the Sight, “She’s Gone..” She whispered. Xavier Sighed and Lead them all to Cerebo to Try and Locate Layla Using his Telepathic abilities.

They went Through Different places Until Xavier Located her Running in a Panic to An Old Cabin where she was Hiding Out, “What the hell is she doing there?” Logan asked, Concerned, Xavier Shrugged, “She’s owned that Cabin for years, For how we have to find her before she Destroys something with the Dark Phoenix.”

Once they arrived at the cabin, It was like she almost immediately noticed them, not in the Dark Phoenix’s Control but Within her Own. Layla Briskly walked out, “I told you to stay away Dad..” She Said. Her Eyes Showed how Unstable she felt at the moment any time Xavier tried to intervene with his words, The Phoenix got angry and Tended to harm People even if they were her friends.

“Layla Please.. we only want to help.” Jean Tried to Console her, Layla shook her head, Erik Came from behind her Cabin some how, “She Dosen’t want your help Charles.” he Intervened. Logan Rolled His eyes, “for Fuck’s Sake.” He Cursed.

“Can’t you see she doesn’t want to fix it, she wants to Let it go.” Erik Said, Layla Rolled her Eyes at them both, Bickering like an Old Married couple. Jean sighed, “No she needs to learn to control it, before she kills someone.” Layla caught storm’s eyes, Flowing with Sympathy for her, often Misplacing it as Pity.

“Oh please I don’t want your Pity.” Layla sad, Souless Black eyes Returning, “I don’t want to Fix it, or Control it.. I want to let it go, to let my power flow, Even if it kills someone.” her Voice was Demonic, Logan Couldn’t even See it was Layla.

“Layla, you can’t truly want that, your not a Killer.” Logan said, A Hiss Resounded from Layla. “Right now you are not speaking to Her, your are talking to the Life Incarnate, Phoenix.” Layla’s eyes returned to Normal hearing cop car sirens, Causing her to clench her fists Against her head.

“No, Stop. Stop it. No. Leave me alone!” Layla screamed, turning and with a Flick of her hand The Cop Cars were stopped flipping over, the sheer power telekinesis had on objcets. She had no control over this sheer Power, Objects Flying, the X-Men were careful, Dodging the Flying Objects.

“Layla!” Logan Called out, Using his Claws to Cut the flying Objects of wood, slicing them Effortlessly. Layla was Levitating now, the amber glow in her eyes stronger, a corrupted Version of the Phoenix force, something you did not want to let loose, Logan Tried to reach her, he wanted to at least try to calm her down. Layla floated back using her Telekinesis to Knock Logan and the other away from her.

It was Xavier's turn to reach her, "Layla, Layla Listen to me, I can help you, but you have to Listen to me, Please." Xavier Pleaded with her, Layla shook her head, "No, No I don't, Please Stay back I don't want to hurt any of you." Layla's soft voice Pleaded, Jean Stepped up, "It's okay, I understand." her soft voice Pleaded with her.

"Please, Let us help you."

#logan howlett #logan howlett comfort #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett gifs #jean grey x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagines #charles xavier fluff #mystique #scott summers #dark phoenix #erik lehnsherr

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝒎𝒓𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕

this is part 2 of just a bet.

summary - when the reader left steve after finding out she was just a bet, she found a new home and a new family, followed by meeting the love of her life, logan.

warning - fluff, angst, swearing.

the gifs I use aren’t mine, divider by @newlips

But every fairytale has a happy ending.

After everything that had happened with Steve and being a bet, I never thought I’d find love or trust someone again. But then he came along… Logan Howlett. Gaining the room's attention with his fluffy hair and bulging muscles, but what caught my attention was his ‘give no shit’ attitude and the fact that when we first met, he didn’t try to get into my pants or hit on me. Logan simply glared and snarled before walking away.

But I didn’t blame Logan for how he was because when he first met me. I was the same. I was closed off, and albeit I didn’t glare or snarl at him, I wasn’t exactly the friendliest, and it was all because of how one man and his friends managed to make me feel below myself and unloved.

Over the years, Logan and I would briefly talk if needed, I don’t know when it started, but one day I woke and felt my heart begin to skip a beat whenever I’d look at him or catch him staring. I found that my cheeks would constantly become a rosy pink around him, and it scared the hell out of me because this was how I felt with Steve before everything happened, and I didn’t want to go through that pain again, even if it meant shielding myself from love forever.

It took a while for me to warm up to Logan, especially when he began to warm up to me. Charles told me that I was special and that Logan has always been grumpy, but he’s been more closed off ever since Jean. Which was a shock once I learnt everything that happened between the two and how she still chose Scott even though she made Logan feel special and made him think he had a chance.

In my mind, all of this was a mess. I spent time building walls just for this burly wolf-like man to walk into my life and knock them down. I remember when Logan and I had an actual conversation with no snarkiness or sarcasm, and it was just peaceful.

I’m standing outside, tending to the flowers, the one thing that brought me peace when I arrived here. “You know, staring isn’t polite.” I turn my head slightly, looking at Logan, taking in his white tank top and jeans as he leans against a tree, a cigar held loosely between his lips. His piercing blue eyes stare daggers into me over his sunglasses.

Logan huffs as he pushes himself off the tree and walks over to me, “why are you always out here? Tending to these stupid weeds?” The deep rumble of his voice rolls off his tongue and sends shivers through my body.

I squint up at him, the sun blinding me. “It calms me. The only thing that’s brought me peace out of this hellhole of a world.” Without thinking, Logan takes his sunglasses off and puts them on me. My heart nearly bursts out of my chest at the action, “thank you.” I give him a soft smile before looking down at the flowers with crimson cheeks.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He grunts, the question startles me. I shyly nod, never expecting those words to leave the man’s mouth. The thought of finally having someone to share this with causes my heart to warm, hopefully.

Logan and I spend the next few hours talking, him sometimes helping me tend to the flowers or standing back watching me. His presence comforted me more than anyone’s had in my lifetime; for a second, it was scary.

I blink as the memory of our first real conversation flashes through my mind, and a gentle smile is brought to my face. “What’s got you all happy?” The sound of the familiar gruff voice still brings butterflies to my stomach. Logan walks into my view and bends down, pecking my lips. “Is there someone else I don’t know about, Mrs Howlett?”

My breath hitches, one at his taste and two as he calls me by my new last name. I give him a bright smile, leaning forward to provide him with another kiss as our eyes connect. “Only you, Mr Howlett. It’ll only ever be you.” The feel of his arms wrapping around me causes me to feel safe, my eyes closing as I give my complete trust to my husband.

I know you all may be confused about the big jump, but I couldn’t give away the goods straight away now, could I? As you’ve seen, Logan and I didn’t like each other immediately, and then we slowly began warming up to one another. You saw our very first genuine conversion and then straight to us being married. I won’t let you miss our big day, so don’t worry!

After our conversation, weeks went by of us continuing that pattern until he suddenly asked me on a date. At first, I was hesitant, and for obvious reasons, but he looked me in the eyes and told me he was a grown man and not a spoilt child. Just because someone else threw away a perfect toy doesn’t mean he will. And yes, he said toy, but I didn’t take offence to that because, honestly, what he said was sweet, especially from a man like Logan.

That day, he took me out on a picnic. Complimenting me on the pretty pastel yellow sundress I wore, he picked my favourite flowers and bought my favourite food. We sat, ate and shared stories. Our first date was when Logan found out how and who hurt me, and that was when I also learned about his past from him. He held me against his warm body when night fell as we watched the stars. That was the night we fell in love with each other, and many more dates came after before Logan brought me back to the exact spot of our first date and proposed.

I never thought I’d find love again, but Logan brought me back to life, and I’m grateful. Now the day of our wedding was my favourite, I didn’t expect a tough man like Logan to cry, but he did.

My dress trailed behind me as I walked down the aisle toward my happiness. My eyes lit up with joy as they connected with Logan, who had tears rolling down his face. When I got close, Charles handed me off, offering us a smile.

Logan and I looked at each other with nothing but love. Storm began to speak, and we both repeated what she said, never once taking our eyes off one another. Not even when we had to grab our rings before Storm could tell Logan he could now kiss the bride, I interrupt.

“Kiss me,” I whispered, my voice soft and full of love.

Logan raised a brow as he smiled, “You always order me about.”

“Kiss me.”

“Are you sure?” He murmured, his mouth curved into a wolfish smile. “Because once I do, I might not be able to–”

I grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down. Our lips connect and move with passion. His arms wrap around me, and large hands splayed on my back as he dips me. We both smile into the kiss as cheers explode from the seats. Logan and I slowly disconnect from one another, looking into each other’s eyes as we smile.

“I love you, Mr Howlett.”

“And I love you, Mrs Howlett.”

“Darling.” I blink as I’m brought out of another memory, and my eyes connect with Logan's blue ones. “Where’d you go again?” I offer a happy smile.

“I was remembering our wedding day.” Logan’s face breaks into a giant grin as he remembers it.

“Well, c’mon, there’s someone outside looking for ya, and Charles won’t tell me who.” I nod, standing up and walking out of the room with him. Our hands interlaced as we entered the main room. I tighten my grip on Logan’s hand as I feel the tension.

“Logan said there was someone here for me?” I watch as my new family gulps before Charles rolls forward and says a name I’d never thought I’d hear again.

“Steve managed to find where you were, and he wouldn’t leave until you heard him out.” Charles rolls toward me, grabbing my hands and ignoring Logan’s growls. “We did try and make him leave, Y/n. Please know we would never try to hurt you intentionally.”

“It’s okay, and I guess it was going to happen sooner or later.” I take a deep breath before turning toward the man who caused me trouble. “What do you want, Steve? I thought I told you to go to hell?” I hold back the smile, desperately trying to escape at Logan’s chuckle.

Steve rubs the back of his neck as he goes to take a step toward me but reconsiders as Logan glares menacingly and growls. “I came to say I regret everything, and these past few years have been hell for me.” Steve stands tall, squaring his chest, when he realises Logan isn’t leaving my side. “I want you back. Don’t you want to be mine again?” I scrunch my nose at the words that leave his mouth, quickly placing my hand on Logan’s chest to stop him from ripping the man apart.

I walk forward, desperately wanting to wipe the smug smirk that rests upon Steve’s face. “Steven, you would be the last man I’d ever get with if we were the only ones alive.” The smirk slowly slides off his face, but I don’t stop. “You may think you can get any woman you want even after ripping their hearts out and stomping on it because of how you look, but you didn’t always look like this, did you, Steve?” Feeling the anger deep inside, I get in his face. “Remember when you were just a little guy and women would mock you? They’d rip your heart out and pierce it with their heels because you weren’t worth their time.”

Steve gulps, looking at the group of people behind me for help, but all he receives are malicious smiles. Fear spiked within him when his eyes connected with Logan’s before quickly looking down at me. “Well, guess what, Stevie? You aren’t worth anyone’s time now, and god, I wish I could punch your stupid face for what you did to me.”

Steve smugly smiles. “Do it.” The taunting tone causes my fist to twitch. My eyes trail down his body before coming back up and connecting with his eyes. ‘Typical, men always think they know everything.’

“Alright.” I smile, pulling my fist back before a crunching sound fills the room as my fist connects with his nose. I watch as Steve falls to the ground and follow by leaning down, level with his ear. “You ever come near me again, and no one will ever find your body.” I stand and walk away, needing some air.

Logan’s POV.

‘Fuck, I desperately wanted to kiss the life out of my wife right now.’ I thought as I watched her leave, followed by everyone else. I walk over to the pathetic sack of meat on the ground. Swiftly pulling out a cigar and lighting it, I stand over him.

Steve slowly looks up at the intimidating man, blood dripping from his broken nose. “I do care for her. She’s–”

“Not yours,” I gruffly finish. “They are my rings on her finger. It’s my name she’s taken, and it’s my bed, she shares.” I growl out the following words. “She is mine. So whether you care for her or not isn’t fucking relevant.” I grunt, puffing out some smoke with every word I speak.

Steve swallows, a groan falling from his lips at the pain. “She was mine first.”

I roll my eyes, wanting to stick my claws through his chest to put myself out of this misery. “And you shouldn’t have been a dick. You made a bet and let her go, and that was your mistake.” Feeling done with the conversation, I walk in the direction my wife left. Leaving the mess on the floor.

The moment I spot her, I let out a sigh of relief and make my way over with long strides, needing my wife in my arms. When I reach Y/n, my arms instinctively wrap around her as I nuzzle my face into her neck. “Mine.”

She leans into me as she lets out a breathy whisper. “Yours.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

I hope you liked part 2 @paarthurnax59

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angelltheninth · 18 days

Note

May I request headcanons of your top three X-men men receiving a love confession from their crush? Except the crush is really shy so the confession is incredibly awkward and nervous. Thank you! (Ps, I love Nightcrawler too!)

Right?! Nightcrawler is so cute!

Pairing: Logan "Wolverine" Howlett, Remy "Gambit" LeBeau, Kurt "Nightcrawler" Wagner x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, love confession, first kiss as a couple, super powers, being flustered, teasing

A/N: Btw, who are your top 3 X-Men?

LOGAN HOWLETT

Oh this is too good, too cute. He's sitting back in his chair, burly arms crossed over his chest, a huge shit-eating grin on his face while you struggle to get your words out Come on, you can do it, if you can't then do you really have what it takes to date him? There's a reward in it for you if you can confess while looking at him, he guarantees you'll like what he has in mind. It's a date with him, a ride on his motorcycle, or did you have a different ride in mind?

REMY LEBEAU

Let's you finish your awkward confession and kisses you the second you get the last word out. Finally, he's been waiting forever to do that, and to hear you confess to him. He thought he was being too flirty but you were just shy weren't you? That's cute too, but hopefully you can open up to him a bit more now that he's officially your boyfriend. Did that kiss not make it clear enough for you? Then you need one more to really get it through your head.

KURT WAGNER

Wraps his tail around you before you can flee from him. Don't run now, you've put so much into that confession, don't you want to hear what he has to say as well? You don't mind if he teleports you to his room do you? Not for anything lewd of course, he would never take advantage of you feelings. He needs to have a long talk with you, if you're really serious about him you have to be ready to take things slow. It's not a now, just telling you to be ready for the long game.

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 21 days

Note

I dont know if you done this already, but what about you logan x fem reader fic, where reader is the little sister of Charles xavier or Eric, and they keep their relationship secret, but then everyone finds out and readers brother gets really protective of her and has a talk with logan trying to scare him off but it doesn't work

.⋆｡Worst Possible Decision｡⋆.

Logan x plus size reader

How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

Warnings: angst, gunshots, burns/fire, fluff, protective!erik, descriptions of pain, reader is german but there’s no further description than vague references WC: 2.7k

A/N: This went a little off of the request but I hope you still like it and I’m sorry for how long it took!

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

She was too much like her brother in a lot of ways, but at the same time, they couldn’t be more different. Where Erik could command any room he walked into, she blended, finding a home in the shadows where she could be hidden. He exuded confidence and a suave attitude that could charm anyone. She was meek, shy but with a power bubbling under the surface that felt like an even bigger threat than any her brother could come up with.

Erik shot first and asked questions later, Y/N wouldn’t ask, she would get all the answers she needed with a single look and then dispose of the trash without so much as a flick of her wrist. While Erik controlled metal, Y/N controlled pain.

Logan met the brother and sister duo long before the mutants were fractured. He noted how beautiful she was, even when he only glanced at her through his peripheral vision. She was curvy, with a belly and plump thighs. He told them to go fuck themselves.

The next time she saw him, she was alone. She seemed lopsided without her brother beside her, incomplete. Logan saw the way her hackles raised when Charles screamed at him to leave, calling him a liar. He saw how she flinched when Erik was mentioned.

Wolverine knew what happened between them, the rift that hadn’t ever been healed, even after her death in the far future. He was stunned by her beauty then, finally seeing her in the flesh after so many years, alive and well. Logan pulled her to the side as soon as they were alone, embracing her. Y/N tried to push him off but when she felt his pain, the raw burning like his nerves were on fire, she wrapped her soft arms around him, easing him.

“Stay alive.” He told her. “Do whatever you have to, you have to live.” He pleaded before he was pulled back to the future but not without kissing her like it was the last time. He stole her breath away as he poured every ounce of love as he could into her lips.

When Logan strolled into the Manor many years after that kiss, Y/N stayed away from him. He was so much younger, so much more whole. She could see now the pieces of him that would break away over the years and it hurt her. She knew what was going to happen to him, what had happened to him. But he cornered her eventually.

“You seem to already know who I am.” She shivered when she heard his voice call out to her from the infirmary door.

“You made a very big impression on the school.” Her accent had long since disappeared, snuffed out by the need to be hidden, to be safe. She didn’t look at him, instead concentrating on cataloguing the new medical supplies that had been delivered the day before.

The mutant huffed, clearly not content with her answer. “You avoid me like the plague while everyone else is indifferent.” Her eyes flicked up to him briefly.

“Maybe I have decided that I already don’t like you. You did threaten to abandon a young mutant on the side of the road.” He scoffed at the mention of Rogue.

“She had it comin’.” He shrugged. “So what is it exactly that you do?” His large body lounged against the one hospital bed in the room. She couldn’t help but glance up at him. He was physically older, slight grey in his sideburns, more lines on his face but his eyes weren’t as sad, the deep brown swirling with emotions he was trying desperately to tamp down but hadn’t learned how yet.

He was still incredibly handsome though. He walked with a confidence that came from youth, that blind faith in himself and his strength that made him cocky and untouchable. Y/N turned away. “I’m the school’s nurse, I thought that was pretty obvious, given I’m in the infirmary.”

Logan grunted, crossing his thick arms over his chest, holding a beer bottle between two of his fingers. “I was talkin about yer power, bub.” That made her smile, the corner of her lips turning up. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she missed his attitude.

“I control pain. It’s useful.” She shrugs off the question with a half answer. She picked up the last of the supplies on the infirmary bed, making a note on her clipboard before putting them away.

She heard him huff and a silence settled over the room but it was not awkward or uncomfortable, it was just… silence. The beer in his bottle swished as he gulped down the last of the brew. The supply closet’s door swung shut with a creak and she chanced another look at the man.

She couldn’t ignore the way his muscles bulged so she forced herself to turn away. It would do her no good to get involved with him in any capacity, even if her heart screamed for him. Logan took the hint, leaving the infirmary with a grumble and a glance back at her.

It was impossible to completely avoid someone like Logan, even in a school as large as the academy. He seemed to appear in moments when her guard was down, lurking in the corner of her vision like a ghost. His blue eyes locked onto her whenever they would be in the same room, both undressing her and observing her with some morbid fascination.

But no matter how hard she tried, her lips still ached from that kiss all those years ago and her heart burned to know what would become of them in the future.

——————

“You seem awfully close with the professor.” The manor was silent, a much needed reprieve after the long day of classes in Logan’s case and lots of skinned knees in Y/N’s. An ancient record player crooned in the corner of the huge sitting room, bathing its two occupants in pleasant song which was quickly becoming more of a lullaby. The older mutant sat on one end of the couch with his companion lying across the rest, a thick book propped up on her chest and her sock-clad feet dangerously close to his lap.

She let the statement sink in for a moment as Logan took another sip from his glass of bourbon he had pilfered from Charles’s not-so-well hidden stash. “Are you asking me something or just talking out loud?” He rolled his eyes.

“What do you think darlin’?” He snapped but his usual condescending tone was replaced with a sarcastic tilt to his voice. Her lips quirked up and she shut her book, letting it rest on her sternum as she met his gaze.

“Yes, Charles and I are very close. I’m the same way with Hank and Alex, we’ve all been here since the beginning.” She knew her answer was one that was far more simple than he would’ve liked but she wouldn’t give him the full story unless he asked.

Logan dropped his left hand from where it had been resting upon his chest onto his meaty thigh, the edge of his palm now just grazing the tip of her fuzzy socks. “Are you fucking him?” The question was so unexpected that Y/N choked on her own spit. She shot up as she coughed, tucking her legs beneath her. Too caught up in catching her breath, she missed the way his eyes dulled at the loss of her closeness.

“Scheiße.” The German naturally slipped from her lips and she thumped her chest with a closed fist. “God no! Having a telepath as a friend is bad enough, I could never imagine dating one.” He smirked, letting out a pleased chuff.

“So…” He prompted. Y/N leaned back into the couch. They now sat side-by-side and Logan was able to study her profile as she eased the drink from his hand, finishing it off in one gulp.

Her face was solemn, haunted by something he couldn’t quite place, even in his many decades of life. She looked as if she were in mourning. “I traded one overprotective brother for another.”

——————

Logan’s legs ached as he ran, the smoke from the fires that raged around him singed his senses. Flames licked up the sides of the manor as gunshots still echoed across the fields, even if the fighting had already stopped. They had come in the dead of night, guns and torches lighting their way.

The school had always been a risk, especially being so close to town. But young mutants needed a place to go. It was inevitable that those who hated them would try to run them out, they all thought they had more time.

It was her voice that pulled Logan from his retreat. Laced with tears, she was comforting one of the older students as he nursed a severe burn to his arm. They were laid out in the grass which was still damp from the early morning dew. Y/N cupped his face with glowing hands and Logan could clearly see the pain that rippled through her.

More students gathered around them, each with an injury of their own, each begging for some kind of relief. Exhaustion painted her face as her body wound tight with agony. The ground shook as Logan dropped to his knees next to her.

“Give me their pain.” She was withering away right before his eyes, driven only by a need to protect, to give the children comfort in the only way she knew how. She shook her head and instead moved to a girl who was no older than 13. A flesh wound cut across her leg, the edges of the wound burned with residual gunpowder.

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips as she took the girl’s pain and Logan watched as the woman began to wither away. She was killing herself.

“Give me their fucking pain.” He yanked her hands away from the girl and laid them on his broad chest. She thrashed in his hold in an attempt to pull away but he wouldn’t budge.

Her eyes met his and she froze. This was the moment that he had warned her about so many years before, a premonition that he would never remember. But to give her pain, her gift, to someone else, she couldn’t even fathom it. “Please.” He begged, squeezing her hands in his own. She was weakening, she doubted she could stop him even if she tried.

Logan felt like he was burning alive as gunshots ripped through his arms and legs. And yet he smiled at her and in that moment, something shifted between them. “That’s it doll face.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the fire that still blazed behind them.

——————

The sounds of power tools and hammers were almost constant nowadays as the mutants worked together to rebuild the crumbling school. Y/N strolled happily through the halls, the walls still blackened from the fire. The students were gone, taken home by their families or sent to safe houses around the country, leaving only a few teachers who wanted to lend a hand.

“They’re working quite quickly.” Charles noted from his place where the greenhouse used to sit. A handful of people, including Logan, Hank, Alex and Rogue among others were steadily building a large room across the way- a brand new library.

Y/N chuckled as she handed him a cup of lemonade. “They have a goal to achieve. This school is important to all of us.” He grinned slyly at his long time friend.

“I’m sure one of them has another motivation for working so hard.” His blue eyes flicked to the love bite that peaked from her collar.

“Shut up.” She muttered with a kick to his wheelchair, Charles laughed under his breath as she walked away to the man responsible for her tender steps and slight limp. As much as Charles loved to tease, he loved even more that she was smiling again and the pain that always seemed to radiate from her mind was now a dull ache that was easily chased away by the touch of her lover.

As soon as she was near enough, Logan abandoned his work, his full attention turned to her. Her laugh carried through the summer breeze like a bird song as he wrapped her up in his arms, lathering her face in kisses. The others rolled their eyes and continued their work as the couple embraced.

“I see my absence was not missed.” Erik’s cool tone froze Charles’s blood.

Rage rolled off the mutant in waves as he glared at the man who was all over his precious sister. His knuckles turned pale and Charles could almost hear the way his muscles tensed. “Erik, what a surprise. I thought you were still on the run.” He looked up at his old friend though he almost didn’t recognise him. His eyes were so much older, his soul so much darker but yet, it was still him.

Y/N had yet to notice her brother, too wrapped up in the arms of her lover but as she pressed another kiss to his cheek, Erik’s anger mounted. He knew what Logan was, knew exactly what pain he was capable of inflicting. “How long?” He growled.

“A couple months though I suspect that Logan had been pining for her since the moment he met her.” Perhaps it was optimistic of Charles to divulge details of their relationship to Erik, but he was a romantic at heart. “Logan saved her life, Erik.”

Her laughter did nothing to ease the furrow in his brow but the way that Logan grabbed at her ample backside absolutely did something.

“Logan?” Y/N asked curiously as the man in her arms suddenly froze and his eyes widened almost comically. “Are you ok?” She cupped his cheek and pain unlike anything she had ever imagined rocketed through her veins. Her bones felt like they were twisting in upon themselves, severing nerves and destroying her body from the inside out. She could feel Logan’s flesh move unnaturally as she pulled him closer to her.

“Logan!” Her hands pressed harder into his jaw in an attempt to steal the violent sensation from him but still, his chest echoed with his suffering.

“Erik enough!” Her head whipped around, as did the attentions of all the other mutants gathered around. The fury in his eyes was like nothing she had seen before, as if he was looking at a roach he had crushed under his boot. His knuckles paled with the force of his power.

A howl of pain escaped Logan’s lips, finally breaking Y/N from her trance. “Release him or I’ll fucking break you.” She snarled and for just a moment, Erik faltered.

His hold wavered briefly but it was enough for Charles to grab his wrist and completely break his focus. “This is beyond childish.” He scolded as Y/N pulled her partner behind her but her deadly glare remained firmly on her brother. Erik didn’t bother to respond, instead his shoulders dropped in surrender and Logan collapsed, the pain finally dissipating.

There was a flurry of movement as she fell to her knees and the others rushed to make sure they were alright. “She’s happy, she’s safe. Leave it alone.” But Erik ignored his friend. His Y/N was gone and perhaps she had been for years. This woman that threatened him when he hurt a boy, as he had done dozens of times in the past with no fight from her, was not the girl he grew up with.

She stood up straight all on her own. She didn’t need Erik to balance her nor Logan to push her up, perhaps that’s why her brother slipped out in the dead of night, leaving behind the one thing that kept him tethered to his humanity. Y/N would awaken the next morning in the protective hold of the man she loved and find a single coin, rusted with age and stained with dried blood on her nightstand. She knew that she would not hear from him again, Erik was dead, only Magneto remained.

The worst decision indeed.

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inkdrinkerworld · 13 days

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thinking about grumpy!logan and sunshine!reader. he would have such a soft spot for readerrr.

You’re the happiest person Logan knows in the world. He isn’t sure how you maintain it. Especially when it comes to what your job is.

You’re all technically teachers, but you’re a mutant, a very powerful mutant who’s been hunted for the majority of your life.

Yet, you’re always wearing a smile Logan thinks is too bright to be real.

Over the years, you and Logan developed a sort of relationship- if you can call it that. He’s a grump and you’re literal sunshine but he’s the only one allowed to be mean around you.

He’s grilling some of the younger kids about them not using their powers correctly in the training drill when you come in, hands holding two trays of juice for the kids.

“You’re too hard on them, Logan. They’re fifteen.” You whisper it because you’re not about to undermine him loudly.

“That doesn’t stop anyone. They need to be better.” You roll your eyes.

“You want them to be unfeeling, that’s not fair.” You say just as gently and he grumbles, taking the last bottle off the tray and cracking it open and then handing it to you.

“Not unfeeling, pragmatic wouldn’t hurt though.”

The kids start hand to hand combat while you speak to Logan and they look better after his corrections but some of them can’t move as quickly as he likes.

“Watch your feet. You’re leaning too far forward, you’ll be easy to off balance.” You correct gently and the kids look past you to Logan who they suspect is about to grill them.

“She’s right. Ground yourself better, tighten your core and block your face.” He’s significantly less aggressive and you smile as you hold the empty trays to your chest.

“See you later, Logan. We have lunch plans don’t be late.” Practically skipping out of the training room with a big grin.

Logan smiles despite himself, a little thing. Barely an uptick in his lips. “Get outta here, Sunshine.” The kids whisper among themselves as you leave and how much softer Logan corrects them even after you’re gone for weeks.

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justsomerandomfanfic · 20 days

Text

Just A Little Bit Jealous - Logan Howlett X GN Reader

Title: Just A Little Bit Jealous

Logan Howlett X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Charles (Mentioned), Hank, Co-workers, Scott (Mentioned), Random bar people, and Rogue (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 4,927

Warnings: Jealousy, slight violence, slight suggestiveness, nicknames, teasing, banter, flirting, bars, alcohol (beer) mentioned, unwanted flirting and physical touch (nothing major), Reader has Telekinesis (and other unspecified mutations), minimal cursing, men being jerks, blood briefly mentioned, angst, and fluff

Logan wasn't the best with emotions. Or at expressing them really. However, in certain situations, the emotions that did seem to shine through were not the most positive ones. Especially as Logan found himself standing at the entrance of the X-Mansion kitchen; raging, for a lack of better words.

His vision was green. A dark haze settled over his eyes. It was a look that only Logan could achieve. The anger in his gut was beginning to bowl over. He needed to calm down, but how?

Seeing you, looking the way you did, absolutely gorgeous in that outfit - the one that made you feel confident - it wasn’t even anything fancy, just your usual attire; something more laidback for the weekend. The way that you seemed to be oblivious to the way that Hank was looking at you. Logan understood. You looked stunning, as always.

Even though Logan knew that he shouldn't be feeling such... Well, jealousy. Hank was a long-time friend of both of yours, and you and Logan had been together for well over a year at this point. But, he couldn't help it. It was like an itch under his skin that he couldn’t reach to scratch. Logan felt protective. As he usually felt for those he truly cared about. And even though he knew that he didn't need to worry, again, he couldn't help it. Logan knew Hank, and he knew him long enough to know that he was a good guy. Hank wouldn't try and steal you from him, not that you were something to steal. Logan didn't own you, if you so wished, you could leave him. You could do whatever you wanted. You could leave and forget all about him.

Though, that just might've been Logan's insecurities talking.

At some point, while Logan was stuck in his head, his eyes still glaring holes into the side of Hank's head. Logan was not paying much attention to your conversation, but whatever it was about, Hank made you laugh. Another wave of jealousy rippled out of Logan. But, thankfully for Logan - and Hank - the conversation between you and Hank ended.

"Have a good night, Y/N," Hank spoke, grabbing his coke can from the kitchen counter.

"Goodnight, Hank." You replied, noticing Logan at the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall; his arms crossed.

Hank turned and paused, also noticing Logan, giving the man a grin. "Good evening, Logan."

"Evening," Logan grumbled, eyeing the man as Hank awkwardly passed him and left the room; escaping down the hall.

You huffed, turning to lean against the kitchen counter, pressing the palms of your hands against the edge of it. You stared at Logan, inspecting his body language, trying to get a feel for how he was feeling, and Logan stared right back at you. You mimicked him, moving your arms to cross them over your chest, and at his eyebrow raise, you raised yours. His frown slowly slipped into a small grin at your actions, making your lips tug upwards in response. You moved towards him. "Hey..." Your voice was soft, yet full of curiosity. You looked up at him, taking him in fully once again.

Logan leaned forward slightly, his crossed arms dropping, and his hands coming to rest on your waist, "Hey..." He mimicked your greeting, making you huff again.

Raising your hands, you placed them on his own waist, your pointer fingers looping into his blue Jeans belt loops. "What's up with you?" You asked, tilting your head back a bit to look up at him. "Something on your mind?" You pressed on, pulling yourself closer to him.

"Hmm..." Logan hummed softly, gazing down at you for a moment - just admiring you, your eyes shining as bright as ever, looking up at him with such love and admiration - before lowering his face to meet yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. The kiss was slow but passionate. It sent shivers down your spine. One of your hands left his waist, cupping the back of his neck, the tips of your fingers running through the soft, brown hair at the nape of his neck. Your head was in the clouds, lost in Logan’s lips against yours. Logan felt all the anger and jealousy just wash away, leaving nothing but the love he felt for you burning inside of him. With each kiss and every touch, he felt a little bit lighter.

You slowly pulled away from the intoxicating kiss, your eyes feeling heavy and your heart full, you couldn't stop your smile from growing as your whole body felt warm. You bit your bottom lip as you watched Logan chase your lips, before gently pressing his forehead against yours.

You sighed, shutting your eyes once more, "I hope you didn't think that kissing me would get you out of answering." You lightly teased, feeling Logan's warm breath waft against your face as he let out a sigh of his own.

Logan's hands tightened around your waist, the warmth from his hands seeping through your shirt and onto your flesh. “Nothin' much on my mind, bub," Logan spoke, letting out one more sigh before letting his shoulders fall slightly, "Jus' a bit tired."

You hummed, nudging your nose gently against his before pulling your forehead from his, glancing at the kitchen clock on the wall. "It is almost seven." You turned to look back up at him, seeing that he was already looking right back down at you. "Kind of early to be tired, eh, old man?" You continued to tease, though Logan gave you a look and a small chuckle, you know that something else was swimming in that head of his; and you decided to let him just tell you whatever it was when he was ready.

Logan's grin turned into a smirk, blinking down at you tiredly, his hands on your waist tugging you back into him; your hands coming up to rest against his chest. "I put the 'grand' in 'grandpa'." He spoke.

At that, you let out a snort, and the two of you started laughing quietly. It took a few moments before you quieted down, your hand coming up to your mouth as you looked at Logan; your eyes squinted slightly, trying to contain your giggles. "Either, you've been spending way too much time with Charles, or you really are tired." You giggled out, your laughter slowly subsiding.

Logan's chest heaved lightly as he chuckled once more, "Maybe both."

As the both of you started to head up to your shared bedroom, Logan almost forgot what he was all upset over. Almost.

~~~

Logan had once again found himself watching from afar as some guy - a co-worker - talked to you. You somehow convinced Logan to be your plus one for a work party that your job was hosting. Logan didn't want to go, but with your little pout - and Puss In Boots eyes - he caved, knowing that he wouldn’t win against you. You even convinced him to dress somewhat rather nicely, in black slacks, his boots, and his red flannel rolled up past his elbows. Yes, he looked nice, but he really wanted to wear his Jeans.

Logan disliked parties. Parties were different from bars though, you didn't have to interact with others. And with most parties, there was an expectation to mingle with others. Logan, however, did not want to mingle with others. He was a loner after all.

He stood next to the table of snacks and refreshments, holding a small red solo cup of fruit punch for you; sadly for Logan, the party didn't have any alcohol. He could've really gone for a beer or two, but no. No, instead he had to stick to his own cup of fruit punch that he held in his other hand.

But he watched, watched as you spoke to that co-worker of yours. Again, similar to Hank, the man said something to make you laugh - though, Logan knew you incredibly well enough to know that it was not a genuine laugh; the man even had the gall to reach out with his free hand to hold your upper arm for a moment. And Logan did what he could to push the jealousy that he was feeling down. Walking over, he skillfully maneuvered around some other people, making his way over to you.

You nodded your head, letting out another fake laugh before you noticed Logan walking towards you in the corner of your eye. Turning your head, a real smile graced your features as you waved him over. "Logan! This is Henri."

"With an 'I'," Henri raised his cup in the air slightly with the inflection, giving Logan a grin, and offering his free hand out to the Wolverine. "Henri French."

Logan stared at him, with a hardened look, handing you your cup of punch without even looking at you. Taking Henri's offered hand, he shook it firmly - possibly enough to warn the guy to keep his fingers off of you. "Logan." He spoke simply, his voice gruff and low; letting go of Henri's hand, stuffing it into his slack's pocket. He turned his gaze back towards you, seeing your eyebrows knit together, and the confusion written across your face, your eyes searching his, though you quickly turned to look back at Henri with a smile; your hand curling around Logan's upper arm, the tips of your fingers brushing under the rolled sleeve of his flannel. At the touch of your chilled skin on his, Logan felt himself breathing out a deep sigh from his nose, you always knew how to calm him.

At Logan's nothing-but-short introduction, Henri let out a small laugh, "I know, Y/N said that was your name." He joked. "They seem to never shut up about you." Though Logan felt a sense of pride wash over him - making the corner of his lips twitch at the thought of you rambling about him to your co-workers - he also felt slightly off when Henri said that, the tone unnerved him.

You huffed, rolling your eyes before you turned to look up at Logan with a sweet smile. "Lo, honey, could you hold my drink for me, please? I spotted Anna. I'll be back in a jiffy." And with that, your punch cup was back in his hand, and he was left alone to deal with Henri all by himself.

Logan watched as you left, seeing you weave around a few people, waving to another co-worker of yours; an older woman with black hair and large glasses. Turning to look back at Henri, he noticed his gaze on you. And, in fact, Logan didn't like how Henri was looking at you. He was staring at you like he wanted you - the guy was even biting his lip, his eyes trailing up and down your body - Logan didn't like that one bit.

Letting out a small chuckle, Henri turned back to Logan, taking a sip of his punch. "You got a fine piece of ace there." Logan's brows furrowed, he wasn't exactly fond of how this conversation was going.

"Excuse me?" Logan's voice deepened - a growl almost leaving his throat - as if he was warning Henri, feeling a burning feeling bubbling up inside him, but Henri just raised an eyebrow, brushing his short, blonde curls away from his forehead.

"Can't help a guy for being a bit curious, can you?" Logan pursed his lips, and Henri took the chance to continue, "So, how did you catch them? I've worked with them for three years now, and they never took me up on anything. I mean, come on, give a guy a break. What’s a guy gotta do to get some action around here?" He chuckled, and Logan felt his hands grip the cups of punch a bit tighter, the plastic of the cups crinkling slightly as the pressure. "You've got to tell me how you won them over. Did they play hard to get with you too?"

Logan wanted to lash out, but he knew how important this was for you, and he didn’t want to cause a scene in front of you and all of your co-workers… But, Logan was pretty close to punching this guy’s teeth in. "I don't have to tell ya nothin'," Logan finally growled, making Henri raise his hands in defense as he chuckled lightly.

"Okay! Relax, buddy! Don't have to be so hostile, man, I'm just curious how good they are in-" Suddenly, Henri paused mid sentence, his own hand holding his cup of punch moving up in a swift motion. In confusion - and bewilderment - Logan watched as Henri moved the cup above his head, his body seemingly moving involuntarily. All the while, Henri's eyes were wide, his mouth agape as he blabbered nonsense in horror and confusion, before the cup flipped upside down, drenching himself in his own punch. The couple of people around both men stopped their conversations, turning to witness Henri as he slowly brought his hand down, his mouth opening and closing; his blonde curls wet and sticking to his forehead. "I- uh," He stammered out, "I- I don't know why I did that." He spoke out, sounding incredibly embarrassed.

Turning his head to look over in your direction, seeing you already looking over at him, a small, mischievous grin and a knowing look in your eyes. He matched your grin, knowing full well that this was your doing.

~~~

When Logan said that he was going to go out on his bike, he wasn't expecting you to ask to come along. He was just going to a bar that was a couple of miles away, but the more the merrier; and Logan was actually meaning to show you the bar - that surprisingly didn't sell crap beer, at some point. When the world let the both of you, you and Logan would just ride around, sometimes for hours, just enjoying each other's company; the wind blowing through your hair, and the scenic views.

So, you and Logan drove off on his - Scott's - motorcycle, heading off to that bar that he told you all about. You weren’t all for bars, finding them a bit too loud and the lights a bit too dim. But, you had been curious ever since the many times Logan spoke about it when he got back to the Mansion. And even though Logan couldn't get drunk, you convinced him to let you drive the both of you home. Which was always fun for you. So, this was technically a win-win for both of you. Logan got to go to his bar, you got to drive home, and you both got to spend some quality time together.

When you pulled up to the bar, you slipped off of the bike, looking at the bar with your hands on your hips as Logan kicked the kickstand and slid off the bike. Looking around the exterior of the place, you noted how loud it seemed, even from the outside. You were in for a headache in the morning, and it wasn't going to be from the alcohol.

"Ya good, bub?" Logan asked, his hand pressing the small of your back, his words breaking you out of your thoughts.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I am," You nodded your head, glancing up at him, "I will admit, I am slightly nervous."

Logan nodded, turning his head to look at the bar, "I get it, but don't worry. I ain't gonna leave your side." Pulling you into his side, he gave you his signature grin, "Plus, they got the best fries."

"I like fries." You grinned right back up at him, "Lead the way."

"Sure thin', darlin'."

As Logan pushed the door open for you, you were immediately greeted by the smell of beer, sweat, and smoke; and the loud music that you heard outside, blasting overhead.

Logan’s hand was protectively placed on your lower back as he led you to the bar at the far end of the room. As you both walked, you took the time to look around and spied a couple of men playing pool to the right, and a handful of tables filled with all sorts of people to your left; drinking, smoking, and talking. At the far end of the bar, you found several men sitting on the bar's stools, watching the TV in the corner of the room; a football game was on. You were thankful that the bar wasn't full of just men, having spotted a couple of women here and there; with their partners, friends, etcetera.

Finding a couple of empty stools at the bar, you and Logan took your seats, the bartender sliding over from behind the bar; cleaning a glass with a cloth. He was a burly man, with a well-trimmed beard and mustache - and a bunch of tattoos littering his arms. He gave Logan a nod, glancing at you before speaking.

"What can I get you two?" He asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the music. His voice was deeper than what you had thought it was going to be, as he sat the glass and cloth down.

"Beer," Logan answered, and the bartender nodded, then turned to you.

You waved a dismissive hand, letting out an awkward chuckle, "I'll just take some fries. Thanks!"

"Yeah," Logan spoke up, "Thanks, Charlie." And this Charlie nodded once more, leaving to get Logan's beer and your fries.

Turning in his seat, Logan leaned his arm against the bar - close enough for you to be able to hear him over everything - giving you a grin, amusement in his eyes, "Well, wha' d'ya think?"

"What do I think?" You asked, resting your own elbow against the bartop, leaning your cheek against your hand, "It’s not too bad. Honestly, it's a bit loud."

Logan chuckled, "All bars are loud, bub."

You huffed, playfully rolling your eyes, "Well, it's certainly not the worst."

For the next thirty minutes or so, you and Logan talked, about everything and anything as you ate your fries and Logan drank his second beer. It was very enjoyable, really. You were honestly impressed by the bar, its fries were amazing; crisp outside that was sprinkled with cinnamon and paprika; it was interesting, but you liked it. When Charlie came out of the kitchen with a plate full of stacked fries. The sight of all that food made you salivate slightly, your stomach growling in hunger.

As Logan finished off his tall glass of beer, he gained your attention, "I gotta piss, I'll be righ' back."

You felt a slight rush of nervousness but nodded anyway. With a gentle squeeze of your thigh, Logan slid off of the bar stool and over to the far left corner where you supposed the bathroom was located. Turning back to the bar, you picked up a fry from your plate, twisting it between your fingers before plopping it in your mouth. Chewing, you glanced at the many drinks lining a shelf behind the bar. You were quickly growing bored, and you soon found yourself reading the labels of the alcoholic bottles; well, the ones that you could make out.

"What's someone like you doing in a beat-up place like this?" You heard a voice from beside you, where Logan used to be. Huffing, you mentally rolled your eyes. Ignoring the voice, you continued to stare straight ahead, and continued to eat your fries; maybe the guy would just go away, if you were lucky. "Come on, sweet thing, give me your name?" The guy spoke again, this time, much closer to you.

"Not interested." You answered plainly, becoming irritated.

"Awe, don't be like that!" The guy exclaimed, taking the stool that Logan had occupied. "I just want to get to know you, sweet cheeks."

You didn't even glance at him as you answered with the same tone, "I got a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend?" The man asked, scoffing, seemingly thinking that your answer was ridiculous. "If I was your boyfriend, I'd never leave you all alone in some bar." He tilted his head slightly, his smirk growing, "I don't think I could keep my eyes off you - much less my hands."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. How typical. "Look, if you're done being creepy, I’d like you to leave me be - I'd like to eat my fries in peace while I wait for my boyfriend." You were this close to just using part of your mutation to physically make him leave you alone, but you didn’t want to bring much attention to yourself. “And, honestly, I’m doing you a favor. You won’t like whatever happens when he gets back.”

"Hmph," The man hummed, narrowing his eyes playfully - he liked a challenge - "Then why don’t you and I leave now before he gets back?" You then felt pressure on your thigh, making you snap your gaze from in front of you, to your thigh, and finally to the man. "I can show you a good time."

And before you could do anything, you heard his voice, "Hands. Off. Of. Them." And thankfully, at Logan's growl, the man took his hand from off of your thigh; as if you had burned him.

Letting out a deep breath of relief, you looked up at Logan - who stood tall beside you, his dark eyes almost glowing with anger - his face showing pure fury, and his fists balled at his sides; his claws just threatening to escape his knuckles.

"I was just fooling around, dude," The guy brought up the courage to speak, reaching out to steal a fry from off of your plate, "Just having some fun." But as he began to pull the fry from your plate, a metal claw suddenly stabbed the fry down, pinning it to the table with a loud ‘thud.’ The man froze, staring at the three claws as they pierced the wooden bartop. He gulped, obvious by his Adam's apple bobbing as he dropped the fry, his fingers only centimeters from the sharp claws.

You chuckled, narrowing your eyes as you smirked, “I told you.” You taunted as the man slowly looked up at Logan, who continued to glare daggers at him; the man's eyes widened before he quickly stumbled off of the bar stool and ran away. Logan watched him go, slowly retracting his claws back into his knuckles, his blood staining them before they quickly healed. You huffed as Logan continued to watch until the man was out the bar door; your hand coming up to grab his arm. "Lo," You spoke up, gaining his attention, his head turning. You gave him a soft grin, gesturing to the bar stool, "Sit, hon." And he did, taking his seat, you could tell that he was still seething, though, less so than moments before. Taking his hand in yours, you curled his hand back into a fist, shutting your eyes as you pressed a couple of light kisses to his bloody knuckles. Pressing a last kiss to his knuckles, you sighed, opening your eyes; your eyes meeting his brown ones. "Thank you," You whispered quietly. He let out a long sigh, nodding as he looked away, but you reached out with your free hand, cupping his chin, and turning his head to face you. "Want to go home?"

He stared at you, a frown still on his face as he nodded. And so, you and Logan left the bar - leaving a couple of dollars for the drinks and fries - and then some for the slightly damaged bartop. Hopping onto the bike, you held onto the handles, feeling Logan's hands slip around your waist - protectively, his face digging into the side of your neck as you started the bike up.

Driving down the road, you felt yourself smile as Logan's lips pressed gently against your skin, feeling his beard scratch lightly across your throat as he kissed your skin; instant goosebumps. The chill breeze was welcoming as the bike sped along the slightly bumpy roads, and you were excited to get home and sleep. And you could tell that Logan was tired too; mentally and emotionally. It wasn't until the bike pulled into the X-Mansion garage that you and Logan could finally let out a sigh.

"Home sweet home," You said, the both of you slipping off of the bike. "I'm exhausted."

Logan only grumbled as the both of you headed into the Mansion.

You hummed tiredly, looking down at the watch on your wrist, "It's almost seven." You took Logan's hand, interlacing your fingers with his as you walked down the Mansion halls, "Kind of early to be tired, eh, old man?"

You asked the same question from more than a week ago, your smile widened as you saw Logan's tired frown turn into a slight smile, "Yeah, yeah," Logan grumbled, amused, "Let's jus' get ta bed."

You nodded, chuckling, "You don't have to tell me twice."

~~~

Finally, some peace, and quiet; alone with you. With your head on his shoulder, and his arm wrapped around you, Logan finally felt content. Content with just spending a quiet night in with you. No missions, no work parties, no bars - though Logan did have a beer on the coffee table - or waiting for you to get done with teaching. Just the both of you, watching a movie. And it was some fantasy movie that you got the VHS tape for. It was interesting, enough to keep Logan somewhat entertained, but not a lot. He kept finding himself looking at you for most of the movie.

In fact, he was doing just that. The TV illuminated your face, perfectly highlighting your features. He found himself unable to focus on the movie at hand - he was too focused on you. His eyes followed your every movement - watching every little detail as you shifted. You wore a slight smile on your lips; your hand laying softly on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles onto the material of his jeans. Logan found himself smiling as he watched your actions. His own fingers absentmindedly played with the soft strands of your hair, occasionally scratching your scalp. His chest felt warm - fuzzy.

But, then Logan noticed something. The expression on your face changed... Changed into one that you only gave him. Logan's eyebrows furrowed, watching as you let out a soft sigh, your eyes glued to the screen. Turning his head, he spotted the reason for your dreamy sigh and love-sick eyes. The man on the screen, dressed in the attire that was appropriate for the type of movie he was in, was dancing gracefully around a crowded ballroom of masked masqueraders. The man was beautiful, Logan had to admit. Beautiful, graceful, and ethereal.

And you seemed to have thought so too, as you let out another dreamy sigh.

Turning to look back at you, you glanced up at him, at the screen, and back at him. "What?" You asked, smiling lightly, noticing the odd look on his face.

"You're sighin,'" Logan spoke simply, making you frown slightly and raise an eyebrow.

"I'm sighing?" You asked, blindly grabbing the TV remote and pausing the movie.

Logan tilted his head slightly, raising his own eyebrow as his chocolate eyes stared into yours, "You did the same sigh when you first met me." He recalled, making you huff out a little laugh, incredulously.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, turning your body slightly towards him.

"Rogue said that ya sighed, just like that, when ya firs' met me." Logan pointed out, teasing lightly - his chest feeling warm in the process. "She said ya were starstruck."

You snorted, "Of course I was starstruck, I mean, look at you! You're gorgeous! You're tall, dark, and handsome!" You explained, pausing for a moment. "And you do have a nice butt." You added, as if it was common knowledge at this point, and it was - you praised his behind often.

Your flattery made Logan grin mischievously, "That's all ya like me fo’? My looks?" He joked, making you lightly slap his thigh in response.

"Lo, of course not, you know that!" You spoke before becoming a bit serious as you made eye contact - Logan gulped lightly - "When I first met you, aside from your dashingly good looks, Logan, I fell for your character.” You glanced away briefly, the memories filling your mind, “You’re funny, fiercely loyal, passionate, intelligent, and a very strong-willed man." You found yourself rambling, "There's a whole lot more I could say, but it would take hours." You breathed out a small chuckle, running a hand through your hair.

Logan couldn't fight the blush that crept up his cheeks, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as you spoke; his eyes softening. "I could say the same 'bout you." He spoke honestly - fondly - his voice low and husky; almost speechless.

You hummed, leaning up with the hand on his thigh to press a quick peck to his cheek before turning back to the movie with one last tap to his leg. “I know these past months have been crazy. Work parties and loud bars… But, you don't have to worry. My fictional crush doesn't hold a candle to you."

"Fictional crush?" He muttered, glancing at the TV screen as you unpaused your movie.

A smirk played on your lips as you turned your attention back on the TV, "I can smell the jealousy rolling off of you, hon,"

"Jealousy? I ain't jealous, bub." Logan shook his head, his arm returning to wrap around you. "Just… Surprised is all."

"Suit yourself."

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months

Note

Let's bring in genderbend Logan idk what name she'll have but have Male Reader making fun of her being short and she had enough so she tosses him over her shoulder

Y/N, a Deadpool variant, approaches Jamie Logan, the Wolverine…

Y/N: hey shortcake

Jamie: stop calling me that

Y/N: do you know why I call you that?

Jamie: because of my height?

Y/N: because you’re sweet as a strawberry shortcake

Jamie actually begins to smile…

Y/N: and yes because I can fit you in my hand

Jamie rolls her eyes and picks Y/N up and throws him over her shoulder…

Jamie: you’re gonna pay for that

Y/N: ooh kinky. I love you my honey badger

Fan cast: Amber Midthunder as Jamie Logan Howlett / Wolverine

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periprose · 11 months

Text

Florence - Chapter Six

You and Peter tell MJ the truth about the fashion show debacle. Bachelor/bachelorette parties are held the next day, Peter learns what was bugging Harry so much, and you and Peter start getting distracted by each other (in a particularly lustful fashion). The day after that, there's a massive heatwave and it's only one more night until Harry and MJ's wedding.

Some horny stuff, lavish partying, protective!Logan, mutual pining, lots of mushy feelings and fluff, lots of texting through out events, first kiss (kind of!)

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

MJ’s hard to find. Peter is not even especially focused on finding her, because he’s trailing his hands around you after what just happened, and you are not really inclined to tell him to stop.

You ask around the party- most people assume that MJ is with Harry, but Harry isn’t with her, and her parents are too busy dancing to answer your question, even if you say it’s somewhat urgent.

MJ’s sister laughs when you ask her. “She’s very shy sometimes. Probably hiding away in her bedroom.”

“But MJ’s kinda loud and crazy.” Peter remarks, not in a mean way, just pointing out how your friend can be really out there. “What do you mean shy?”

“She has her moments.” Gayle answers, and you don’t think that’s true.

Just as you thought, MJ’s not in her bedroom either, but as you and Peter exit, holding hands as you’ve become accustomed to, who else would be in the corridor, waiting for the bathroom to open up, other than your father?

The implication is not lost on you. How it looks like you two have just stolen each other away in a corner of the house during the party, taking each other as lovers in horny secrecy- and there’s a little too much evidence proving the fact, you with your still messed up hair, Peter with his partially unbuttoned shirt, the drunken air of heat around you two- and you both just came out of a bedroom.

You feel a little embarrassed before remembering that you are twenty-six, and Logan can’t exactly punish you for something you didn’t do, and even if you did do it, you’re totally allowed to. You’re not a stupid, unwary teenager- despite what Logan thinks, Peter did not take advantage of you.

Peter is kind of loosely gripping your hand, and you think he’s going to let go, probably out of fear that your father will kill him- and you hold his hand a little tighter, refusing to let him go.

“Hey, dad.” You say kind of breezily, a little wary of Logan’s eyes flickering from your intertwined hands to your face. “Do you know where MJ is?”

“Ah… Little Wolverine.” Logan’s voice is laced with tenderness as he stares at you, and his face is battling some girl-dad extremes right now- he wants to protect you and be there for you all at the same time, and he doesn’t want Peter anywhere near you, not after how you experienced such heartbreak not so long ago- but he lets it slide for now. He can see that you’re not willing to talk about it right now, and Peter’s staring at the ground with a guilty expression that Logan can’t help but feel a little bad about.

Sure, Peter’s got his hands on Logan’s only daughter- but he’s still one of your best friends, and Logan always thought he would like if you ended up with him, because Peter was another bright kid, a cute scamp that Logan thought wasn’t nearly as annoying as all the other boys that had no right to be near you. He’s seen the both of you grow up together- how could he not be a little bemused about the whole thing?

“I think I saw her heading into the bar.” Logan states, and you nod and pull Peter alongside you, while Logan stares at you, wondering when you had to grow up and wishing he could just prevent you getting hurt.

Sure enough, MJ is in the bar, trying to carry like three different bottles of champagne on her own- Peter is quick to grab one as it’s falling and you grab the other that’s still in her arms.

“Ooh, that was close.” MJ pants, and rests against the counter. “There could’ve been bubbly everywhere.”

“Don’t worry, Peter would’ve caught all of them if that happened.” You know very well about Peter’s weird uncanny ability to catch things that are falling, or sense when things are coming towards you- he’s pulled you out of the way of random people several times, despite never seeing them.

“That’s true. Peter once pulled Gwen out of the way when she almost tripped over the balcony. I think it was in your guys’ first year of uni? I was visiting.” MJ comments, and you realize you weren’t there, because you were starting to refuse Peter’s invitations downtown to ESU.

It’s not like campus was that faraway, but you couldn’t handle it at the time. Now you feel sad that you missed out on something. And a little stupid.

“Really?” You ask. “I wasn’t there, what exactly happened?”

“Ah… if I remember correctly, Gwen was crying about something that happened during class.” Peter starts, and recognition seems to fall on him. “Oh, right. She thought she was about to lose her scholarship.”

“Yeah, poor girl was crying and blubbering- you know when you cry so hard you can’t breathe? That was her.” MJ nods, pursing her lips as she thinks it over. “I don’t think any of us realized how close she was to the edge. Except for Peter.”

Peter looks sheepish. “It was just an instinct, you know? I heard her foot stumble, and the sound of the wind- her back was leaning over the edge when I pulled her back.”

You imagine Gwen shrieking, her platinum blonde hair flowing in the autumn wind as she teetered for a moment, only to be cut off as Peter’s hands grabbed her. How terrifying- Gwen could’ve died.

You say as much, and MJ nods.

“It was really scary. She held onto Peter for a while, and he was really nice about the whole thing.” She gives him a soft squeeze of the hand, and you feel like Peter’s actually just so… sweet.

It’s something you’ve always known, but thinking about it now, you really know that you love him. You love that Peter always seems to be thinking for others, even if he can arguably be a bit dense about his own feelings- you could never say that Peter didn’t put others first, that he always tried his best to make everyone feel a little better.

It’s funny how little realizations like this can just strike you. You know Peter and MJ aren’t aware of how you feel on the inside right now, but some part of you wishes you could stay in Florence with Peter forever. Stay in this moment of being next to him, and being in love with him as he is, and not having to worry about the rest of the world.

“You’re a good person.” You say, and Peter gets a funny smile on his face.

“You say that like it’s surprising, Howlett. But thank you.” He ruffles your hair, and MJ grins at the two of you. “Another good-person thing incoming: me and Howlett have some news about your Dior contract.”

“Oh, really?” MJ leans forward, placing the bottle back on the counter as she sits on it. “What is it?”

“Bucky and Elektra were the ones behind the email. They never actually told Dior that you were misusing funds, which is fair because Dior would’ve never believed them.” You explain, and MJ tilts her head, somewhat confused. “The entire thing was a sham. Sent by Bucky, probably based off of something that’s happening to Elektra… they sent you a fake email with a doctored balance sheet, for reasons I’m not sure about. Maybe to get back at someone who’s actually in Dior’s good graces?”

“A fake email?” MJ’s mouth is agape, and she scrolls through her phone, and you watch as the power of a thousand suns suddenly light up inside her eyes. “A fake fucking email?!”

“MJ-”

“No. No. That’s literally so-” MJ starts cursing, things you would never repeat to your own mother if she somehow made an ill-advised appearance in your life again. “God, I spent literal weeks if not months worrying and crying about this- it made me feel anxious about the wedding stuff too- and you’re telling me it was basically an elaborate prank? I would’ve just not shown up to New York Fashion Week and then shit really would’ve gotten real!”

It’s starting to make sense to you now. Bucky and Elektra would somewhat benefit from less competition if MJ was blacklisted from Dior’s shows, especially because she dared to just not come after being given the privilege of modelling for them.

She jumps off her seat at the counter, grabbing your shoulders, and you’re taken aback, sputtering in the face of MJ’s rage. Peter hoists her a bit away from you, or at least- he tries to, his arms coming up under hers, and he’s dangling her up in the air, but MJ has a lot of strength, especially when she’s upset, and her fingers hurt a little as they tighten and squeeze around your shoulders.

“Lettie. Tell me right now. Should I kick them out? Is there potential for them doing worse since they’re here?” MJ huffs out, and you breathe a sigh of relief that MJ isn’t actually upset at you.

“Considering Bucky had his hands all over Howlett earlier, I don’t think there’s any lower you can get.” Peter mutters, clearly still kind of pissed over that. His jaw clenches with tension, and then he finally pulls MJ aside, and she stands, crossing her arms.

“Sorry, Lettie. Bucky really can be creepy, but I thought he would know better at a wedding.” She rolls her eyes. “That does it- I’m uninviting them.”

“Now?” You ask, but MJ is already walking towards the backyard entrance, and you and Peter give each other a look before following her. “Wait- MJ, hang on!”

“What?” She stops for one moment and Peter shakes his head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks gently, and MJ inhales, her chest puffing up, red anger spreading from her heart to her face.

“Of course I want to do this! I feel like killing them, how could they- how could they do that to me? I’m sick of being nice to assholes.” MJ breaks into a brisk run, but you grab her arm, and get yanked forward as you do your best to stop her.

Models and their long legs- Peter swallows a laugh as he watches you, with your shorter stature, attempt to pull back MJ, and he easily helps you just by holding her other arm.

“MJ, listen. Think carefully.” You whisper to her, and she’s still upset but she is listening. “You have a lot of potential notoriety if you kick them out now. There are people everywhere- other models invited, networking people, hell, even Harry’s tech corporation people. You could be infamous for the wrong reasons, and not everyone knows about the email thing.”

“But… But I…” MJ sighs, knowing that you’re right. “God, for just once in my life I wanted to give it to them. I wanted them to feel like they were tiny, small, like I did for the last few weeks. And they really, really deserve it.”

“You can still do that.” Peter remarks, but he looks upset, and rightfully so that MJ had had such a hard time. “Just do it when there are no consequences to you.”

MJ takes it in, and after careful consideration, tells you guys what she thinks. “I’m going to keep them here- I want to be totally in control of how they find out that they’ll be banned from any proper fashion house shows indefinitely. After I tell Dior all about it, of course. Might as well take the high road for now so it all comes crashing down later.”

MJ sounds rather giddy, almost borderline evil, but you have to let her have it for once. The nicest people are the scariest when they’re pushed to their limits.

A chill breeze enters the Villa as she pulls you and Peter outside- the rest of the night is a blur of dancing, where you and MJ screeching songs in each others’ faces, relief about everything clearly making her mood a lot better than it was previously.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, or when you managed to get back upstairs to your bedroom, but you wake up pretty late.

“What?” You murmur as you check your phone. It’s 4:00 PM. “Oh, fuck.”

You sleepily sit up, and surprisingly, you don’t have a hangover- but it’s probably only because you’ve slept so long. You wonder where everyone is.

Someone knocks on your door, and you tell them to come in. It’s Gwen, her trademark small smile and platinum blonde hair making you feel less tired already.

“Hey, Lettie.” She sits on your bed, and you feel kind of dishevelled for having slept so long. “I thought I’d come by to tell you to get ready.”

“Huh?”

“Oh. I guess you didn’t know?” Gwen plays with a strand of her hair, and looks apologetic. “Today is the bachelorette party, and the bachelor party, but of course we’re going to MJ’s bachelorette party. I hope you’re okay with partying even more- it’s at some swanky club.”

“Oh.” You yawn, and you shake your head. “Meh, whatever. It’s just one crazy week- for the rest of my life I’ll be super moderate and healthy.”

Gwen giggles. “It’s good to see you’re up to it. I can’t imagine what MJ would have said if you weren’t there.”

After a bit of showering and preening and cleaning yourself up, you’re given your bachelorette dress by Gwen. Natalia, Kitty, Wanda, Betty, and Gayle (MJ’s sister) are in your room as well. It’s nice to be with them- you remember Gayle is like uber responsible and she combs your hair back and zips you into your dress before you can even ask for help. Betty is pretty nice, but she’s always in a bit of a mood. Natalia, Kitty, and Wanda are actually a lot sweeter than you would’ve assumed- they only offer helpful tips on fashion and no one is out to criticize you.

You blankly wonder where Elektra could be, if she’s even invited to the whole affair. She must be- but perhaps she’s getting ready on her own. Perhaps MJ is slowly beginning to ice her out.

Everyone is giggling, gossiping, getting ready- and you feel like this is what sisterhood is all about sometimes. The intimacy of the beautification process is one that you’re not sure men understand. By the end of all the dressing up, accessorising, and makeup, everyone looks kinda matching. The style is glitz, sparkle, as much as you could possible adorn on yourselves- there are little gems glued on your face, sparkly highlighter everywhere, and everyone just looks glowing, ethereal, shiny. Like a bunch of fairies.

MJ’s bought eight matching dresses in style- bodycon, spaghetti strap dresses that are mid thigh length, accentuating your figure, and just bedazzled in a million tiny gems. Reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe’s infamous Happy-Birthday-Mr. President dress, just a lot shorter. Yours is in a burnt red colour that screams red hot spice- MJ’s is a deep, sultry midnight-blue, Betty is of course in black as usual, Gayle is in green, and Gwen is in a pretty plum. Kitty and Natalia are matching- they’re in a pretty opalesque seashell pink- and Wanda is in wine. Despite the colours ranging so wildly, the shimmer of the jewels on your dresses unify the lot of you.

“We look like a girl group.” You point out, and everyone flashes a silly pose. You take a picture of the eight of you- just for the memories and all that.

After just a second of deliberation, you post it to your Instagram story- it’ll be gone in 24 hours, and you haven’t been posting anything for the whole trip. Why not, right?

Peter responds to it almost instantly.

pbp replied to your story: not fair

pbp: you cant just post a picture like this and not expect me to come n see you

littlewolverine: it looks that good?

pbp: better than that. you look gorgeous

littlewolverine: what about everyone else in the picture peter

pbp: there are other ppl in the picture?

littlewolverine: omg stop lol

pbp: just kidding. Everyone looks great but u just drew my attention first. I LOVE the dress

littlewolverine: thank you :)

pbp: you should do full glam more often lol. Stop hiding in ur giant sweaters in your room

littlewolverine: I’ll do that if u do the same thing lol. Stop hiding ur muscles 👀 i saw them on the beach

pbp: ohhh so u were checking me out? if i had known that i would’ve built more muscle

littlewolverine: no no. you are fine the way you are, promise.

littlewolverine: so what are u guys wearing?

pbp sent a picture.

You open it, and it’s a picture of Harry, Peter, Bucky (!), Miles, and three tech bros you don’t recognize. They’re wearing fancy dress pants, button up shirts, and suspenders. Very sophisticated, old-money, Italian aesthetic.

littlewolverine: im surprised buck is there

pbp: that’s the first thing u have to say?? wow

littlewolverine: sorry. Are u sure you’re not secretly italian? How do u pull this off so well? Very hot 10/10 no notes. Love the suspenders too.

pbp: i think MJ is gonna let buck and elektra “have” the upper hand for now… and then destroy them later.

littlewolverine: wow that’s dark. But they deserve that

pbp: anyways thanks howlett. Wasn’t really feeling the look but u changed my mind. I think im gonna go become a part of that mafia aesthetic that the youth enjoy so much

littlewolverine: hahahaha

littlewolverine: you’ll surely become a top ten tiktok star or whatever it is. Idk either

pbp: we’re old as fuck.

Although bachelorette parties are fun, and you enjoy conversing and dancing with the girls- Elektra is the only one who’s a bit ostracized and she seems secretly panicked as to why- you spend most of the evening texting Peter. You can’t help it- he’s just that funny and annoyingly distracting.

pbp: uhhh there’s a stripper dancing on the bar counter now. howlett what do i do

littlewolverine: idk man, look at her, don’t look at her? Up to u really

pbp: but do i look at her bc i respect her as a person and im not shaming her for her work? Or do i not look at her bc i disagree with a world that has normalized female bodies as sexual objects, and has generally coerced women into feeling comfortable w that?

littlewolverine: uhHHhhhhhh. Okay ask her if she had no other choice but to become a stripper. And then decide from there, you wise philosopher lol

pbp: thanks for the advice. I think im gonna look away because she’s giving some of the tech bros a lap dance… and uhhhhh out of respect to u ofc

littlewolverine: whaaat. im chill w it

pbp: not to make u feel bad. but what about what happened w mj?

littlewolverine: that’s totally different, this is a random stripper. Feelings and best friends are way more heavy. I thought u were emotionally literate lol

pbp: so u wont mind if i get a lap dance from this lady?

littlewolverine: ah, u got me there. Okay, but only if im allowed to get one from some random male stripper

littlewolverine: I kid, i kid. I wont do that lol. Anyways its fine if you want to, its not like we’re official

pbp: omg

pbp: howlett come on i was joking too. Why tf would i do that?

pbp: and we’re not official YET. im not screwing that up for something stupid i dont even care about

littlewolverine: oh idk. I didnt want to screw up either lol. What if i was putting too much pressure on u to commit

pbp: I want to commit lol. Im waiting for the signal from u

littlewolverine: okay. Maybe when things are less busy. and we can actually be alone. then it’ll happen.

Peter sends a bunch of heart emojis and you feel your heart swell with warmth and all those gooey feelings that you swore you’d never feel again.

“You’re totally glued to your phone.” Gwen says as she sits next to you, taking a break from the dancing. She’s sweating a lot, and she takes a long drink of water.

“Ah, well… I don’t know. Maybe parties aren’t my thing.” You try to make an excuse, but Gwen gives you that smile, where she already knows what’s up.

“And Peter Parker is definitely your thing, right?” She jokes, and you blush but nod ever so timidly. It’s the first time you’ve really admitted that this is happening, and Gwen squees and hugs you.

“I knew it! You guys are so meant to be. Miles always said that you have chemistry with him.” Gwen confesses and you wonder if it’s just been that obvious to everyone else, all these years.

Peter, on the other hand, is being pulled into the dance circle by Miles, at their own respective party. He didn’t even get a chance to see you in all your glamour at the Villa, try as he might- everyone was ushered away before he could steal a moment with you.

He resists the urge to check his phone, and eventually, leans against the bar counter with Harry, who looks solemn.

“Hey, Har.” Peter tries to be gentle, because of his last rocky conversation together with him.

“Ah. Peter.” Harry wordlessly holds up his fist for a fist bump, which Peter gratefully does. “How’s the party for you?”

“It’s fine… I’ve spent most of the time texting Howlett.” Peter admits, and Harry laughs.

“Did I knock some sense into you?”

“...Maybe.” Peter grimaces and then laughs. “Okay, yeah. I needed to hear it- that I wasn’t treating her right.”

Harry nods, and then decides to be honest. “Actually. I needed to hear some harsh truths from you, too. I was kind of ignoring MJ and what she wanted. And it wasn’t all perfect and fixed until you said something.”

Peter shrugs. “You would’ve fixed it anyways. What happened?”

Harry pauses. “I think I was getting too preoccupied with Oscorp. Dad is really on my ass about taking it seriously, and I am, I just… I didn’t talk to MJ for a bit because I thought she’d freak on me about it. Sometimes we argue about who’s doing what correctly and I just kinda ghosted her about it.”

“Hey, at least you talked to her about, right?” Peter feels bad. “Sorry that I made you out to be some sort of serial cheater. I just remember in high school, and even college, you kinda used to be on-and-off with MJ a lot.”

Harry snickers. “Yeah, that wasn’t very healthy of me, was it? But we got over that a while back. MJ told me if I was really, truly serious about her, I wouldn’t keep leaving her hanging like that, and she had a point. I couldn’t imagine being without her- and that’s why I wanted you to do the same thing with Howlett, you blind idiot.”

“I knew that couldn’t be your own knowledge. MJ really taught you everything, didn’t she.” Peter comments and Harry immediately starts punching him jokingly, before letting go of his fist and admitting that it’s kinda true.

Peter coughs but he’s all good. He’s happy. He’s glad to have you, Harry, and MJ at his side again.

His phone beeps with another text from you.

littlewolverine: omg look at this

You’ve sent him a picture of a spider crawling up the wall, and the next picture is of it landing on Elektra, and the very last thing is a video of her running and MJ laughing in the background.

pbp: HAHAHAHA

pbp: serves her right i think

littlewolverine: bet she wishes she had a you to come and save her. Remember when we were fifteen and u had to come get rid of the spider in my washroom at the hotel?

pbp: remember??? You think ive forgotten that? you were still wearing your swimsuit and i think i spent the rest of that trip thinking about that

littlewolverine: omg noooo why? That was not a cute look on me… dad bought that bikini for me without consultation lol

pbp: teenage boys are really horny howlett. you think im gonna be picky when that was maybe the closest id ever been to a semi naked girl at that point? nah.

littlewolverine: wowww so you were only horny bc it could’ve been any girl??

littlewolverine: #blockedandreported

pbp: ok fine maybe it had something to do with you being the girl.

littlewolverine: Sent a picture.

Peter opens the picture and blinks- you’re becoming way more confident at teasing him, he can tell, and he feels heat rushing from his face to his neck and even further below that. It’s just you, in the washroom mirror of the club, except- just for this private intimate moment captured in this picture- you’ve pulled down your dress, straps and all, so your top half is showing. You’re still wearing your bra, of course, but this is the most erotically charged picture from you that he’s ever gotten, and he’s not thinking clearly anymore, not when he can clearly see your cleavage.

pbp: show more? Please?

littlewolverine: you can see it in person lol.

pbp: noooo faaaaiiiir. are u gonna walk out of the washroom like that? do i have to be jealous of everyone in the club?

littlewolverine: no you dumbass. this is a private picture just for u and i already pulled my dress back up.

pbp: im excited to pull it back down in person lol.

Unfortunately for Peter, the partying lasted until 2:00 AM, and by the time everyone made it back to the Villa, he was too tired to come sneak into your room and very possibly annihilate you with all this pent up lust he keeps feeling.

So now it’s Thursday. July 20th. One day before the wedding, meant to be a chill day of planning and preparing.

But it’s the hottest day of the summer so far, apparently. Almost 35 degrees celsius, or 95 degrees fahrenheit, which is just horrible.

The air conditioning is on max- everyone is sitting around various parts of the house trying to fan themselves, and yet, it’s not enough. The sweaty, sticky feeling is palpable- most people have gone shirtless at this point. You swear you can see the heat waves emanating through the air.

You’re wearing a big tee-shirt, loose cotton shorts, and a cropped tank top underneath the shirt for some modesty. You’re very close to just taking off your shirt.

Your dad is really complaining. He’s shirtless and lying face down on the tiles. “Kid. Throw some ice cubes on me, will ya?”

“Uhhh… okay.” You peel yourself off the leather couch, your bare thighs sticking to the hot cushions, and walk towards the fridge in the kitchen. Every step feels like more heat is wafting towards you and sticking to you.

Peter’s in the kitchen, and he’s putting his whole head inside a giant bowl of ice cold water. He sees you approaching and pulls his head out, water from his hair splashing over his bare upper body and the floor.

“Don’t you dare-!” You shriek, but to no avail, because Peter picks you up and shakes his wet hair all over you, and now you’re covered in water too.

“Isn’t that better, Howlett? You’re not as hot now, right?” Peter holds you close as you try to open the freezer for some ice. “Where are you going?”

“I’m trying to get away from you, you soaking wet monkey-” You dart under his arms and open the freezer.

“You’d probably feel less hot if you took off your shirt.” Peter slyly attempts to say, and you roll your eyes at how transparent he can be. “Not that I can’t already see through your shirt. Nice neon-green tank you got on there.”

“Ugh!” You take out the ice tray and leave it on the counter. “Thanks, Peter.”

You pull off your now see-through top, and Peter cannot ignore the way you’re glowing, little water droplets attached to your already flushed, sweaty skin, on the little bare stripe of your stomach that the tank top reveals, and he gets this impossible urge to just lean in and kiss you especially because your mouth is just agape because of the heat, and he wants to take your mouth for his own pleasure.

He leans in, and you look up at him- and Peter traces back your hair, and he feels increasingly frustrated that he hasn’t planted one on you yet, (the last time, he recalls with some amusement, is when you were both nine, and he doesn’t think that really counts because you fell on top of him over a sandcastle) so he pulls your face upwards and kisses you with a deep inhale, his lips gently-yet-firmly plying against your own, and it’s with immense satisfaction that Peter feels you kiss back, and he’s so glad he finally gets to know what it’s like to kiss you after fantasizing about it this whole week, and he feels that you’re so soft and sweet and he just wants to pull you further into his arms, and he’s just beginning to swirl his tongue against your own when he hears a very loud cough in the background.

You pull away sheepishly, your hair all dishevelled from Peter’s insistent hands, and grimace at your father. “Hey, dad…”

Logan takes the ice cubes that you apparently took to long to give to him, and starts rubbing them on his shoulders. His massive, muscular shoulders, Peter thinks with a gulp.

“Hey, kid. Just leave the room for a bit. Me and Pete need to have a chat.” Logan states, and you immediately turn apprehensive.

“Wait- Dad- It’s not Peter’s fault, if you’re gonna yell at him- you gotta yell at me too!” You cross your arms, and Peter looks towards the ground, feeling much younger than his 26 years of age. “I’m an adult woman. You can’t just-”

Logan goes up-bup-bup-bup and silences you, pushing you out the kitchen door and shutting it. You sit down on the tiles in frustration, and try your best to listen through the door.

“Peter. C’mere.” Logan sits at one of the barstools, and Peter follows, feeling an ominous level of dread. “I’m not gonna kill you for laying one on my daughter- that’s still her choice, even if I question her taste.”

“Oh.”

“But I’m not letting you off so easy.” Logan stares at his hands, and thinks about how you spent quite literally years being depressed over Peter, even if you wouldn’t say as much. “Listen. Lettie might’ve forgiven you for whatever happened between the two of you- but that kid is my whole life. This is the first time in a long time I’ve actually seen her happy.”

Peter nods, unsure of what he could say to that.

“But this comes at a price, alright? She’s happy, yeah, but you have no idea how upset she was without you.” Logan sounds rather pissed off and Peter flinches. “I better not see you using her and then leaving her behind again. Because I will come after you for that, even if Lettie tries to save your ass.”

“I won’t do that.” Peter responds almost immediately. “I’m not saying I wasn’t an idiot back then, but I would never do that. I really- I love her a lot. I just didn’t know it before.”

Peter has to stop himself from looking at Logan’s taken back expression, but he is surprised to find that Logan claps his hand on his back.

“And she loves you. At least I think she does.” Logan admits, and Peter wonders if you’ll ever tell him that. “I’m just saying. Don’t be stupid with my daughter this time around.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter replies, and Logan shakes his hand, before opening the door again.

You’re leaning against it, and you fall back against the tiles, before pulling yourself up in a rush.

“Dad? You didn’t beat him up?” You genuinely sound confused, and Peter starts laughing.

“He’s all yours, kid.” Logan ruffles your head, and you immediately start pestering Peter to explain what that means as Logan walks away.

Peter enjoys how you blabber on at him about your confusion and why Logan seems so okay with the whole thing, not that he was ever going to forbid you from dating someone, but he has his moments of being protective, and Peter wonders what he could say to answer your questions, maybe he could really confess his love for you as he had just accidentally done with Logan- but he decides to just lean in and kiss you again.

Maybe he’ll tell you later.

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