Hugh Jackman X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Why is it that I see a movie and discover the love of my life in a bright yellow suit?

blowjob handles

a/n: thought I would write a little blurb as my first post :)

When Wade initially made the joke about the Wolverine mask having ‘blowjob handles’, you couldn’t stop the little giggle that escaped you, much to Logan’s annoyance. It was a dirty joke, sure, and Logan had to slap Wade’s hands away from grabbing the little… ears? Eyes? Of the mask, but he didnt stab him for it, so you assumed he wasn’t as offended as he could’ve been.

But, as it turns out, blowjobs weren’t the only thing those handles were useful for.

Logan had you spread out on your bed, knees pushed up by your chest as his head was lowered between your thighs, his mouth ravaging the flesh of your cunt. You were a whimpering, whining mess, head thrown back as your hands clutched at the sheets.

Logan had just gotten back from some sort of mission with Wade and the X-men, covered in soot, dirt, and blood that most likely wasn’t his. You had greeted him as you usually did, halfway through your sentence telling him to hop into a nice warm shower before he picked you up under your thighs and threw you over his shoulder before depositing you onto the bed.

He hadn’t even taken his mask off, the yellow and black of the material muted by the wear and tear. Normally, your hands would be tangled in Logan’s hair, holding onto his cute little cowlicks and bucking your hips against his face.

But you couldn’t, and you didn’t want to just tear the mask off of his face, so your hands grasped at the back of his head, nails scratching against the fabric. Then he rolled his tongue over your clit just how you like, and instincts took over. Your hands flew to the protruding black parts of the mask, wrapping around them and using them as leverage as you ground back against him.

You heard and felt Logan growl against your pussy, only burying his face further into your cunt, feeling his nose bump against your clit, “That’s it, kid,” he growled between slurps and licks, pushing your knees further back towards your chest, the whites of the eyes of his mask staring back at you.

Maybe Wade’s ideas weren’t all too bad.

Hugh really is babygirl

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream, and see the light…

“He’s My Person.”

Paring: Hugh Jackman x Actor F!Reader

Summary: You and your co-star Hugh Jackman are in the eye of the public. Your fans always loving the dynamic between the two of you. However no one knew if you would be anything more than friends, not even you.

- oneshot, Hugh Jackman M.List, Navigation — other works!

Warnings: None!

Taglist: Just ask to be added.

I walked past the camera set crew, and smiled when I saw Hugh sitting in one of the chairs. The Aussie immediately stood up, and gave me a hug.

Today was the first, of many interviews for the press tour of X-Men Origins Wolverine. I had been so lucky to get a part in this film, and I loved filming every second of it.

The lights dimmed a little, and focused on us and the cameras started to roll.

“Welcome, welcome you too.” I smiled at her and did a little wave to the camera. “First I would like to say congratulations on your achievement in making this film.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet.” I could feel red lightly forming on my cheeks at the praise while Hugh — like the professional he is, take the compliment like a champ. “Thank you, much appreciated.”

“Now we have a bit of a game set up for us to do, but first some questions.”

Oh gosh, I could feel slightly nervous, but Hugh placed his palm on my knee and slightly rubbed it with his thumb. Calming my nerves.

“Now Hugh, you’ve done X-Men for quite some time now, but Y/N this is your first time in the Marvel franchise.”

Hugh squeezed my knee slightly, and gave me a proud smile while he rested his chin on his other hand.

“Yes well it’s such an honor.” I couldn’t help but feel a tiny nostalgic when I remembered how I started my career and where I’m at now. “I had done some small films before, but nothing like this. It was truly a one of a kind experience.”

I was expecting for another question, but Hugh spoke up as well. “Not to mention Y/N is such an amazing actor — and she’s always fun to work with. She’s a very good sport when things don’t go right the first time.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that sounded like a giggle leaving my lip, a smile brightening my face.

“Careful Hugh I might think you’re flirting with me.” I wouldn’t mind that, and this teasing, flirting thing we do is something we’ve always done since we first met each other.

“You two are adorable.” The interviewer — Annie — commented. “What was your favorite thing to film.”

Oh god, this is a trap. The movie hasn’t hit theaters, and there’s only so much we can say before it comes out.

I slapped my hand over Hugh’s, “kissing Hugh Jackman.” That little bit was in the trailer — so it’s the safest thing to say, if not the honest.

Hugh didn’t his cute little laugh, a snort breaking free, before he regained his composure.

“I won’t lie, I 100% messed that scene up so I could just kiss the wonderful Y/N again. So I’ll have to agree with her there.”

My face started to warm in embarrassment while I hid inside my hands, all while Hugh laughed — his hand never leaving my knee.

“Do either of you have a date to the premier? If yes, then do you mind saying?”

My response came so quick out of my mouth I didn’t have a moment to process what I was saying, though that’s how I am a lot of the time. “Hey, Hugh, wanna be my date?” 

Hugh looked at you, and despite his smile, and the humor in his voice — his eyes were laced in seriousness. “It would be the greatest honor of my life, to walk down that carpet on your arm like eye candy.”

I blew him a kiss, teasing him before looking right back at the camera. “I might look fine right now, but trust me girls I’m screaming on the inside.”

The whole camera crew started to laugh, while I silently laughed as well.

“In ten or words less describe each-other’s character.” I gestured for Hugh to go first to which he took a moment to think, using his fingers.

“Badass solider that always completes a mission no matter what.”

Fuck. Alright.

“A military solider that can’t die, infused with metal.” Fuck I need another word. “Handsome.”

“Aweeeee.” Hugh leaned over and kissed my cheek.

The sound of cheering was the only thing I could hear as I grabbed a hold of Hugh’s arm and made our way onto the carpet.

“God, what if I fall on my face?” I stopped just before my heel could meet with the carpet. Too nervous to go on.

“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. I won’t let you fall.” He laced his fingers with mine and walked us down the carpet, giving me the push I needed to get out of my own head.

The paparazzi photos started to flash immediately, blinding me but I had been used to this by now — so I just kept my focus.

Hugh leaned down to my ear, whispering a joke about how a photographer back would hurt tomorrow in that position, causing me to laugh.

The lights went crazy as he hugged laughed with me, “you look very beautiful tonight.”

“I might have to make you my date to every premier Mr. Jackman.”

We made our way to the first reporter of the night, sticking close together.

“Good evening.” She was a pretty decidedly young girl, and you could see how nervous she was. “Hi/G’day.” Me and Hugh responded.

“So you two are each other’s date, any special chemistry going on.” The Aussie wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, while I held his shoulder with my left arm. This position was suggestive, but it was teasing.

Unfortunately, to my disappointment we weren’t seeing each other.

“One day.”

One day.

You couldn’t help but give him a smile, and he returned it with the same exact emotion in his eyes. Care, and love.

Over the next few years, you and Logan had worked on a few projects together, but even if you weren’t, you and him always were close and kept in touch.

You would grab dinner together often, or sometimes when one of you were free and the other was busy on a set, it wasn’t strange that one of you would fly out to the other.

Everyone believed that one of you were together, especially after a video leaked of you and Logan slow dancing at a house party together.

But whenever asked about it, you two would always either say, “not yet,” or “one day.”

You were having a premier coming up, and it was the only time that there was a chance that Hugh couldn’t make it. So everyone was wondering if you would bring anyone else. It was well known you didn’t like going places without someone close to you.

You sat with one of your co-stars and smiled at the interviewer that was asking the question on everyone’s mind.

“Are you sure you and Hugh Jackman are not dating.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the phrasing of her words.

“Hugh Jackman? Never heard of him.” The crew and your Co-Star started laughing, but you did answer the question. “No we’re not dating.” It was the first time the two of you were direct with it, and not being vague.

Overtime you grew to love Hugh, and to be honest you didn’t know if you could keep telling yourself ‘one day.’ Because in your head you two weren’t only giving fans false hope, but you were giving it to yourself.

“Hugh is away filming, you always take him to events, since he won’t be here will you take someone else.”

You were quiet for a moment, thinking through your answer.

“To be honest, even if I wanted to take someone else I don’t think I could.” You looked down to your lap before continuing. “Hugh is such a major part of my life. Really he’s my pillar. He will always be the one a I take, and if I can’t take him then I wouldn’t go with anyone else.”

“It sounds like you deeply care for him. Are you sure there’s no feelings?” She didn’t ask if you were dating, but if you had feelings.

“Hugh Jackman is so many things. He’s a great dancer, actor, singer. Full of so many talents — and I always love the fact that I am apart of his life. Because most of all He’s my person.”

You finally looked back up to the interviewer.

“If something were to ever happen between us, then it would have already.”

Sure you fans would be sad, and even you, but it was time to finally put the rumors to rest.

You were a little quieter through the rest of the interview, but still kept it fun.

Hugh downed his drink. He was on a plane, flying back to you. He wore a tux so he could be on the ready to go so when he lands, he can confess, then they can make their way to the premier — where he can make it known to the world.

He was watching your interview, and when you put said that you two weren’t happening, he felt panic.

He cursed himself for waiting too long. But the truth was he felt like with his career going the way it was that maybe he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He was an idiot.

He felt terrible for leading you on so long, but he would make it right — and hope maybe you still liked him.

By the time he finally landed you had just walked onto the carpet, alone. So he paid the driver extra to just step on the gas.

Once he was let in — the crowd started going wild. He was on the carpet, and he didn’t stop to take photos, or talk to people.

He set his sights on you and immediately started to hurry to you. And ironically it was like something from a movie.

The cameras all the sudden started going crazy, and you looked to your right to see what was going on, but was met with a Hugh Jackman out of breath, and grabbing your face.

“Hugh? When did—“ You were cut off by his lips pressing into yours. His hands gently leaving your cheeks, and resting on your neck while he pulled you closer.

You parted just a little, so he could whisper his confession to you.

“You’re my person too. I’m sorry for being an idiot, but I’m an idiot in love with you.”

A smile took over your face, finally your one day was today. “Just kiss me again, you bloody fool.” You didn’t need to tell him twice — and the camera was absolutely going crazy.

The rest of the premier, Hugh had a few lipstick stains on his face that he didn’t even bother to wipe away.

He was took focus on the smile that was on your face, the same smile that matched his.

The next day Hugh found a photo of you two kissing, with Ryan Reynolds shocked, smiling face, he immediately posted it, letting your fans know that your finally got together with the caption, “my person.”

You two also made that your locks screen and every time either of you are asked about your friendship with Ryan, you immediately talk about it.

we broke up (one shot)

hugh jackman x f!reader

summary: you get dragged to a work event by your boyfriend of three years when Hugh comes to flirt with you. after you reluctantly tell him you’re taken, he backs off for the most part. a few months later, Hugh tells the story during an interview but little does he know you’re single now. 

warnings: implied age gap (not mentioned), flirting while in a relationship (kinda)

authors note: here's a little oneshot I wrote tonight. enjoy <33

You’d been with your boyfriend, Rowan, for a few years now. He earned a degree in marketing and immediately got a job for a studio. While he enjoys his job and it brings in good money, the events he dragged you to were unbelievably boring. The company he worked for always had big parties after a success on a project. At first they were interesting, often running into celebrities here and there given that it was the success of their movie, but lately you found yourself sitting at the bar more often than not. It was routine at this point. Rowan would show you off for the first hour, then he would toss you aside to fend for yourself. You weren’t the biggest social butterfly, hence why you liked to sit alone, drinking. 

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were at another party for the successful marketing for Deadpool and Wolverine. You’d heard a few whispers that the stars of the movie themselves were somewhere wandering around but you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing them. Rowan dumped you at the bar a little over thirty minutes ago and you’ve been sipping on some fruity little drink ever since, completely in your own world. You made small talk with the bartender every once and a while but you were mainly people watching. 

“Mind if I join?” A deep Australian accent asks. You look up and see a gorgeous older man. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a pair of black expensive looking glasses. He was deliciously tall and had a thich salt and pepper beard. “Uh no, go ahead.” He sits in the bar stool next to you. He orders a drink from the bartender before returning his attention back to you. “Pardon me if this is too forward but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The comment takes you aback. “Oh um, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.” He looks down to your glass that’s nothing but melted ice at this point. “Can I buy you another drink?” He asks. “You probably shouldn’t. I’m taken…sadly.” You whisper the last part, unsure if he heard it or not. “Oh! I apologize for coming on to you. You’ve been sitting here by yourself for so long, I thought you might have come alone.” You huff out a laugh. “My boyfriend works for the company. He’s out there socializing or whatever.” You shrug and signal to the bartender, asking for another drink. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, you’d be on my arm all night.” He smirks. “Is that right?” You smile at him. Before he can answer, you feel your phone vibrate with a text from Rowan that reads ‘where are you babe? Time to leave.’ 

“Well, the boyfriends calling, I gotta go.” You carefully climb out of the chair and grab your jacket and purse off of the back. As you start to walk away, the man speaks again. “Wait! What’s your name?” You turn back to face him. “Y/n.” He smiles and repeats it. “I’m Hugh.” His answer surprises you. “Oh! Congrats on the movie. I didn’t even recognize you at first with the beard and all.” He laughs. “Bye Hugh.” You wave before walking off.

—

It’s been a few months since that night in July, it being September now. You and Rowan had broken up mid-August, both of you agreeing that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It hurt for a little bit but you knew it was for the best. Living with him had been awkward as you searched for a new place, deciding that he can keep the current apartment. You wanted a fresh start, which is where you are now. Tonight was your first night in your new apartment. You didn’t have any furniture yet but you were happy. You bought an air mattress to make do until you could afford an actual bed. 

It was around midnight and you were doing your nightly youtube watch. You were scrolling through your recommended videos when you saw Hugh’s face pop up. It was an interview posted a few minutes ago from him on some late night show you’d never heard of. You clicked on it, wanting to hear what the man was up to these days. The interview was a standard one, mostly questions on his upcoming movie about some sheep. You weren’t really paying attention, close to dozing off when a question peaked your interest. 

“So Hugh, it’s almost been a year since the announcement of your divorce and the fans wanna know…How’s your dating life doing? Are you seeing anyone?” The woman asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Hugh lets out a big laugh. “I’m actually not seeing anyone. It’s funny you ask because the last time I even attempted to flirt with a woman she turned me down.” The interviewer's eyebrows shoot up in shock. She gasps before asking, “How could anyone turn you down? We need to know the full story here.” 

“Ryan and I were at this party for the marketing team that worked on Deadpool and Wolverine and I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar all alone.” The interviewer is nodding her head, engaging with every word Hugh says. “I eyed her for a while to see if anyone was with her but she sat there alone for a good thirty minutes before Ryan hyped me up to go over there. When I finally did, I ordered a drink and tried to play it cool but I felt the urge to tell this girl how stunning she was, so I did.” You giggle to yourself and you hear him tell the story from his point of view. “She thanked me and I offered to buy her another drink. I kid you not, in the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard she says ‘you probably shouldn’t, i’m taken.’” His hands go up to his chest, gripping right above his heart. “My heart broke mate. I flirted a little more in true Hugh fashion but she had to go. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since.” 

“What a lucky woman, I’m sure she regrets it.” 

“Hey, I tried my best.” He shrugs before looking at the camera. “Y/n, if you ever break up with him. I’m all yours baby.” 

Your jaw drops, the sound of cheers blasting from your phone.  

‘we broke up. I’m all yours. @/RealHughJackman’ 

You hit send on the tweet and hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you.

thank you for reading <3

MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED STAN STAN STAN STAN

Last one standing..

Stanley Jobson x reader (neighbor!au)

𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜ଘ(˵╹-╹)━☆ 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 ＆ 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘍𝘓𝘐𝘙𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘦̂𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘺, “𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺”𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 -3- !!－， 𝘏𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭😭

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦ଘ(˵╹-╹)━ ♡︎ 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑑𝑑 𝑜𝑛𝑒. 𝐻𝑒’𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑟𝑢𝑏𝑖𝑥 𝑐𝑢𝑏𝑒, 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑙𝑠𝑒．．．．𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 ℎ𝑒’𝑠 𝑔𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟．．．

@cherrywineisawaltz said something first😭

_ _𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟.-_ 𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨_/-𝐜.𝐨𝐧_𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨}} 𝐧𝐨-/_.𝟐

.♥︎.

You couldn't give in. It felt like the legacy of damn near feminism itself was counting on you.

It was all HIS fault.

A frown creeps on your face as you recall what- or rather who seemed to coast in from Texas bringing not only himself but his unconventionalness with him while also single-handedly being responsible for the position you’re currently in. And to make matters worst, you hadn’t even done anything to catch his attention.

To your knowledge (the apartment grapevine) you’re one of the few strong soldiers still standing who haven’t fallen to his charms. You never thought you’d live to the day where you’d be mentally cursing a 6’3 man with short hair as messy as his life, unfairly bright under eyes, perfect teeth, dimples, the most clutchable forearms you’ve ever seen and eyebrows that just won’t quit.

Fucking Stanley Jobson.

You shake your head- no you’re not fucking Stan. Even though since about three and a half weeks ago, he’s been driving you crazy trying to get you to go out with him. The last time you saw him he was guaranteeing that “you’d have a great time pretty” and from the suggestive flick of his brow as he looked down at you, head tilted, you tried to fight the warmth crawling over your body at the picture his words painted you. It didn’t work though because almost immediately you were swarmed with images of him. Laying naked in Stanley’s bed, nails digging into his broad shoulders before raking down his equally sculpted back, big arms wrapped around you as he stretched you out, rolling his hips into your slick heat over and over moaning raggedly into your mouth-

Stan’s gentle questioning hum breaks you out of your daydream and you stare back dumbly into his eyes before taking a deep refreshing mind clearing breath of crisp completely sane air before giving him a tight smile, turning around and promptly getting the fuck out of there.

The more you avoided him, the more he seemed to haunt you. Physically and metaphorically.

Another incident was when you were using the complex’s washing machine. Usually you’d go to a different laundromat but it was pouring and you needed clean underwear. Again, thanks to your shit luck, you ran out of laundry detergent half way through and the free stuff was on some high ass shelves above the machines that you couldn’t climb because they were old as fuck and just as unsafe which left you to the tried and true method: tiptoes and jumping.

You still couldn’t reach and for some reason it filled you with such a rage that you consider knocking all the shit there over but before you could throw your fit, a large hand holds your waist along with a solid chest to your back while his other hand reaches up to grab the soap powder, placing it softly in your hands then resting his chin on your shoulder.

“How are you cute even when soap has you all pissy?” Stan huffs out an amused chuckle, the air tickling your cheek. You catch yourself rolling your eyes fondly, tilting your head back a little.

Maybe you could entertain him a bit.

Relaxing in his hold, you try to calm your racing heart. Stanley was so big and he smelled so good and you can’t even think about his voice and all the dirty things that would sound heavenly coming from him. Especially right now, standing pressed flush to him with no panties on under your shorts.

“That’s because I wasn’t getting pissy-“, another chuckle from Stan, “I was getting annoyed. The difference is key.” You retort sassily, feeling him nod on your shoulder. “Yeah, sure you were baby.” The petname makes your heart skip hard as heat blooms to your chest and you swallow. Goosebumps raise on your arms as Stanley rubs them up and down, softly humming as he does. You wish you were unaffected but unfortunately you need to stay strong.

Clearing your throat, you ask aloud: “what are you doing?” He runs his hands up to your shoulders, applying firm pressure as he starts to massage the tension there. “Helping. This whole week whenever I saw you, you always look so stressed…”

Qué?? Your brain shuts down and suddenly you have a second heartbeat as the hottest man you’ve ever come in contact has your resolve crumbling by the second. His thumbs drag across a particularly sore part of muscle and a relieved gasp spills from your throat. “I- yeah?” You say, trying to concentrate but the deep hum in your ear scatters your thoughts again, Stanley clouding your senses.

“Yeah…and y’know I could fix that..help you relax..” He trails off but god you know exactly what he means, biting your lip to keep from accepting immediately. You should stop. Back up off him and come up with some nonsensical excuse to leave before you kiss him but you don’t. Instead you ask-

“…how?”

You won’t repeat the things he whispered in your ear.

Only that they had you running back to your place to do something- anything to distract you from the ache between your legs. Leaving your laundry altogether.

Okay, so you shouldn’t have flirted back but experience is important. Now you know that letting the stupidly built man you’re fighting tooth and nail to resist hold you is a bad idea. You live and you learn.

But….all these encounters are starting to take a toll on you and Stanley is wearing you down. You can’t recall when he even started to be this big of a problem for you. When he first moved in, you didn’t see him much but heard a lot. Excited talk about some gorgeous guy and disputes over if he had the perfect nerd or fireman look until you saw him and understanding dawned on you. You won’t lie, there was no point: he was fine. Standing in grey adidas track pants with a tight sleeveless tank as he helped an elderly lady carry her things to the elevator with a effortlessly gracious smile but from then on you decided that was it. Guys like Mr. ‘Pregnancy is only 9 months’ were nothing but trouble. Plus seeing just about all the women in the building vying for his attention, you knew what you weren’t going to do: him. Until you see him one night standing in front of the mailboxes holding a childrens drawing with a look so sad it made you mourn with him. Walking up to him, placing your hand on his arm.

“I don’t know who she is but I’m sure she understands.”

A longing sigh leaves Stanley’s lips and he’s silent for a beat. “…she- Holly- is 10. I had to send her away again this week. We talk and stuff but my work always has me runnin’ off somewhere n that’s hard n just…”, there’s another sigh and you know what he means because you miss your own folks sometimes, “I miss her. I don’t want her to think she’s not apart of me because we’re not always together.” First step to comforting someone: don’t cry. You rub his arm in soothing motions, nodding gently. “Well technically, you aren’t apart. She’s in your blood, you’re not a lonely man.”

The way Stan snapped his head down at you, staring into your eyes with a tender look was definitely the first warning but did you listen? No, all you did was stare back before softly bidding him goodnight. Leaving behind your perfume and the warmth of your hand.

After then, he was steadily more different towards you. More open, even more charming, but you willed yourself not to go there with him. If you were any other woman, you’d have bit his dust a long time ago. Hell, you know a plethora of women who already did which leads to what do you do now? You’re both getting closer but you’re trying to stay friends. If you start, it might never end so you keep tiptoeing..

Solid knocks at your door break you out of your brooding, slightly confused because you didn’t order anything and you weren’t expecting company. Padding over to the door, you swing it open and your eyes widen as your heart leaps up your throat. Stanley stands looking as yummy as ever smiling down at you. His shoulders seem even broader and you can’t think clearly with his aftershave in your face.

Fuck your life and the horse it rode in on.

Suppressing a deeply inconvenienced sigh, you grin tightly at him. “Yes Stanley?” The sound of his name from you makes his already glowing face positively blinding. “You and me, 7:30 tonight. Let’s paint the town. What do ya say sweetheart?”

“What about Holly?”

As if summoned, you hear the little things voice from way down the hall and you poke your head out to see her. She’s all toothy grins, waving excitedly as she poorly holds a familiar looking dog with one arm. “Emmie and me are having a slumber party tonight! And look! Isn’t he cute?!” She explains before thrusting the dog forward and while cute, you do feel bad for him because that can’t be comfortable. Emmie is the daughter of one of the military men next door. You see them around and they’re always nice. Just as quickly as she appeared, she’s gone again, back in the door to go play with her friend. A soft laugh leaves you as you turn to look at Stanley but he’s already looking at you. And closer. You gulp.

“Well, I would but-“

“Scared you’re gonna have fun?”

His playful jab riles you up in the way that’s always been easy for him because it’s him and you rush to wipe the smirk off his aesthetically pleasing face. “Actually I’m scared you won’t be able to keep up with me.” Stanley looks stunned for a second before chuckling lowly, biting his lip as he nods slowly and the air shifts. “How are you so sure I can’t keep up if you don’t give me a chance?” The air feels hotter and you roll your shoulders to try and shake it off but the images are back and it’s so not your fault. Stanley gets closer. “If anything…,” his breath washes over your face like mint and lemon sweet tea, “you’ll be breaking to keep up with me.”

Oh.

“And what if I can’t? Do you go find someone who’s more your speed?” You ask coyly, going for a different approach entirely so you don’t yank him to your lips. “No, I help you keep up. For as long as you’ll let me.”

That’s it.

Silently, you back up a few steps into your apartment because you know he’ll follow you. When he does, you motion to the door with your hand and Stan looks amused but closes it anyways, coming to stand in front of you when you crook your finger for him to come closer.

Burly arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you completely against him and it feels so good you’re dizzy, reaching up to loop your arms around his neck but Stanley’s height makes it hard and you groan. Knowing how you can get (laundry incident) Stan lifts you, arm around your waist with the other hand splayed across your ass then your legs around his waist. The feel of his warm muscles under you make you throb and suddenly breathing is slightly harder. Biting your lip, you run your hands up his corded neck then back down to his chest, letting your imagination run wild. Stanley just lets you as he clears his throat to get your attention.

“You wantin’ something from me, baby?” You would have said something smart back but you don’t have it in you. Instead, “just kiss me already-“ and then your mouth is immediately consumed by his.

Like the rest of him, his lips are warm and you’re burning up, moaning the second he slots his mouth over yours, sending shivers down your spine as he licks along the seam of your lips, making you tighten your legs around him and kiss him even harder.

Stanley groans at your roughly sucking at his bottom lip before licking hotly into your mouth. His tongue coaxing yours into his, languidly sucking at the wet muscle and you melt down, dripping from your cunt, soaking your underwear and the need to be naked becomes urgent. The wet smack of your kissing makes you both heady as your grind yourself on his abs, gasping wetly at the friction and you tug the hem of his shirt with a needy whine.

To your dismay, Stan pulls off from the slick of your mouth, dragging you slowly down his body, watching with blown pupils as your pouty mouth drops open when your clit catches on every ridge of his stomach and the tent of his erection through your tiny shorts, until you’re set back on your feet, glaring at him. He pecks you on the lips to soothe you but you’re feisty. “I’m hard, you’re hard. Why’d we stop?” Laughing at the whine in your voice will only frustrate you further so he stamps it down, taking your hands in his.

“Because, we need to go on our date first.” You pout despite the warmth in your cheeks and nod. “Right. Tonight at 7:30.” This time he does laugh, the sound making you smile as he nods. Bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them, then your cheek. “You got it, pretty.”

You walk him to the door and motion him down, kissing him sweetly one more time, bathed in the warm way he looks at you.

“See you then…”

It ended up being the best date of your life.

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he’s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖽𝖺𝗒!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, crying, kissing, reader’s friends don’t say happy birthday to her word count : 2k

the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as you slowly woke up. you reached out, expecting to find logan still in bed, but the sheets were cool to the touch - he’d already gotten up. you sighed, pushing yourself out of bed, feeling a heaviness settle in your chest that had nothing to do with sleep.

it was your birthday, and despite telling yourself not to get your hopes up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited. but as you wandered into the kitchen, you found logan already dressed, pouring himself a cup of coffee. he glanced up at you with a brief nod, his usual gruff expression on his face.

“morning,” he said, his voice still rough from sleep.

“morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light despite the disappointment gnawing at your insides. you waited for him to say something, to give any hint that he remembered what day it was, but he just turned back to the coffee maker, sipping his drink without another word.

you forced a smile, hoping maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, but as the minutes ticked by, the silence between you grew heavier. you tried to make conversation, but your heart wasn’t in it. your responses were shorter, your smile more strained. you felt like a deflated balloon, all the anticipation from earlier draining away with each passing second.

logan, usually so perceptive, didn’t seem to notice the shift in your mood. he was preoccupied with something on his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. you watched him, hoping he’d glance up, catch the sadness in your eyes, and realise what was wrong. but he didn’t. instead, he muttered something about needing to head out for a bit, and before you knew it, he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

the rest of the morning passed in a blur. you went through the motions, trying to distract yourself with chores and busywork, but your mind kept drifting back to logan, to the way he’d just… left. your phone stayed silent, no calls or messages from anyone. it was as if the world had forgotten you existed, and the weight of that realisation pressed down on you until it was hard to breathe.

by the time noon rolled around, you couldn’t take it anymore. you grabbed your coat and headed out, needing some fresh air, some space to clear your head. you wandered aimlessly through the city, lost in your thoughts, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. every shop window you passed, every couple you saw laughing together, only deepened the ache in your chest. it wasn’t just that logan had forgotten - everyone had.

you eventually found yourself in a small park, the trees just beginning to change colour with the arrival of autumn. you sat down on a bench, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could hold the pieces of your broken heart together. tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, not here, not in public. you’d already cried enough this morning, alone in your empty apartment.

back at home, logan was busy working on a project when his phone buzzed with a notification. he absentmindedly picked it up, thinking it was just another email or text, but when he saw the reminder on the screen, his blood ran cold.

“don’t forget: y/n’s birthday today.”

his heart sank, a wave of guilt crashing over him so hard it left him breathless. he’d completely forgotten. the date had slipped his mind in the chaos of everything else, and now, thinking back on how you’d been acting all morning - how quiet, how distant - you’d clearly been hurting, and he hadn’t even noticed.

logan cursed under his breath, shoving his phone into his pocket as he bolted out the door. he had to fix this, had to make it right somehow. he couldn’t stand the thought of you spending your birthday alone, feeling unloved and unimportant. he didn’t know what he’d do yet, but he was determined to make it up to you.

he spent the next hour rushing around, trying to pull together something - anything - that would show you how much you meant to him. he wasn’t good at this kind of thing, never had been, but for you, he’d try. he picked up your favourite flowers, a small cake from the bakery you loved, and a gift that he knew you’d been eyeing for weeks.

when he finally got home, his heart was pounding in his chest, a mixture of anxiety and determination fueling him. he found the apartment empty, no sign of you anywhere. panic began to rise in his throat, but before he could let it consume him, he heard the door creak open, and there you were, stepping inside with a weary expression on your face.

you looked up, surprised to see logan standing there with an armful of flowers and a nervous look in his eyes. “logan?” you asked, your voice soft and unsure.

“i screwed up,” he said, his voice low and filled with regret. “i should’ve remembered. i should’ve been here with you all day, making sure you knew how much you mean to me. but i forgot, and i’m sorry.”

you blinked, the sadness in your chest starting to melt away at the sight of him standing there, so earnest, so desperate to make things right. “logan…”

“i know it doesn’t fix everything,” he continued, stepping closer and holding out the flowers to you, “but i want to make it up to you. bub, you matter to me more than anything.”

you took the flowers from him, your hands trembling slightly as you inhaled their sweet scent. they were beautiful, and you could see the effort he’d gone through to get them for you. but more than that, it was the look in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice, that made your heart swell.

“you really forgot?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

logan nodded, guilt etched into every line of his face. “yeah, i did. and i hate that i did. ‘m so fucking sorry, baby.”

tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were tears of relief, of feeling seen. you set the flowers down and stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “i just wanted you to remember,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. “i just wanted to feel like i mattered.”

logan held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield. “you do matter,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “god, you matter more than anything. ‘m sorry i made you feel like you don’t.”

you pulled back slightly, looking up at him with teary eyes. “it’s not just you. it’s everyone. i didn’t hear from anyone today. it’s like i don’t even exist.” you blurt out through your watery smile.

his heart ached at the pain in your voice, the loneliness that had clearly been eating away at you all day. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had begun to spill over. “i’m here,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded heart. “i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere.”

you nodded, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hands chase away the lingering coldness inside you. you didn’t need a big celebration or a fancy gift - just him, just this moment, was enough.

logan leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek, and then another to your lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if trying to make up for every moment of hurt he’d caused today. you melted into him, your hands gripping his shirt as you kissed him back, pouring all your love and forgiveness into that single act.

“happy birthday,” he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“thank you,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “for this, for everything.”

he pulled you closer, his kisses growing more fervent, trailing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. each kiss was a silent apology, a promise to do better, to be better for you. you closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensation of his lips on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with emotion, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “i’m sorry i wasn’t there today,” he said, his voice rough with sincerity. “but i’m here now, and i’m not letting go.”

you smiled up at him, your heart full to the brim with love for this man who, despite his rough exterior, cared for you so deeply. “that’s all i need,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

logan pulled you back into his arms, holding you close as if he could shield you from all the hurt you’d felt today. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath you. the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, wrapped up in each other.

and as you stood there, in the safety of his embrace, you realised that despite everything, today had turned out to be a pretty good birthday after all.

★

the morning after your birthday, you woke up to the comforting warmth of logan’s arms around you. he’d already been awake, quietly watching you sleep, and when your eyes fluttered open, he gave you a soft, affectionate smile. “how about we go to that coffee shop you love so much?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you grinned, the thought of starting the day at your favourite spot lifting your spirits even more. you quickly got dressed, excitement bubbling up as you thought about spending a carefree morning with him. the walk there was easy, your hands entwined as you chatted about everything and nothing, the crisp morning air filling your lungs.

when you reached the café, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods greeted you, making you sigh in contentment. logan held the door open for you with a small smirk, following you inside as you both headed straight to the counter. he ordered your usual drink without needing to ask, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he confidently added a pastry to the order, knowing exactly which one you’d want.

you found a cosy table by the window, and as you sat down, logan placed the tray in front of you with a mock-serious expression. “only the best for you,” he said, but the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

you laughed, playfully nudging his arm. “you’re too good to me.”

he shrugged, his gaze softening as he watched you take a bite of your pastry. “you deserve it.”

as you sipped your coffee, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful banter. logan found himself completely captivated by the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your plans for the week, the way you scrunched your nose when you tried to describe something particularly tricky. he couldn’t stop thinking about how utterly adorable you were, and the thought made his heart swell in a way that was still new and unfamiliar to him.

at one point, you accidentally got a bit of whipped cream on your nose, and he chuckled, leaning over to gently wipe it off with his thumb. “you’re a mess, you know that?” he teased, but the affection in his voice was undeniable.

“only for you,” you quipped back, making him shake his head with a grin.

as the morning wore on, you both lost track of time, too wrapped up in each other to care about anything else. the coffee shop, the world outside - it all faded away, leaving just the two of you, happy and content in each other’s company.

I'M BACK AND I'M FERAL FOR HUGH JACKMAN Y'ALL😭 (ages of my celebrity/fictional crushes are getting concerningly OLD)

Such a baby girl, dilf, daddy. He's so controversially-older-bf coded🎀🥺

He's how Prince Adam from Beauty and The Beast should've looked after his transformation from The Beast.

Ok but imagine this tho:

Logan finding your journal full of things about him

found gif on @darlinggash

The moment you and Logan met the two of you clicked in an unusual way. Immediately getting on each other's nerves but having the same sense of humor. You both got grumpy and violent at times. The two of you started training together and growing as friends. There was no way in your brain that he saw you as anymore and as time passed fate proved you right.

But that didn't mean you didn't have feelings for him. Because you fell in love with Logan pretty quickly. The only reason why you were able to hide it is because you wrote about it. You wrote in detail about your feelings for him, instead of shoving them down or acting like a bumbling idiot. You trusted Logan and you were very comfortable around him. You didn't want that to change because of your feelings for him.

Logan just didn't think you felt the same way he felt that he didn't have a chance with you. That you deserved someone better than him, but he also didn't like to imagine you with anyone but him. Because he never thought he would find love. He didn't think he would find it in you but one day he just looked at you differently. He started noticing how beautiful you were, something he knew from the beginning. But it was starting to get hard to not say anything, to not kiss you. He didn't know if he could be your friend anymore.

Though he couldn't tell if you felt the same way, not until he found your notebook. Walking to your room, bringing his knuckles up to gentle rap against the open door. The door creaking open to reveal your empty room, your music playing from your speaker on your desk. A smile came over Logan's face as he stepped closer, one of Logan's favorite songs flowing through the speakers. Glancing down at the notebook on your desk in an almost bashful way as the apple of his cheeks rose. Then his eyes slightly squinted when seeing his name on the page, before moving in closer.

I feel guilty for the way I feel, I know I'm told to not be, that having feelings for a friend isn't usual. That it didn't mean have to mean anything, because there was no way he could feel the same way. He smelt like leather and tobacco, his musk filling my senses whenever he was around. Or when he touched me, that's when I felt really bad. Because I liked it for more than he knew, I didn't like being touched but I wanted this man to keep his hands on me all day. The idea was comforting, and the thought of his large muscular hands put on your body even if it was just your arm or your shoulder. You'd always lean into his touch, desperate for more. You told yourself you wouldn't get worked up, that you just be friends. But you didn't want to be his friend and it was getting harder to ignore.

Logan felt his stomach flip, swallowing down the lump in his stomach as he read something so private. Something intimate that you wrote about...someone who sounded a whole lot like him. He wasn't sure, but he knew you didn't have alot of other male friends. That he religiously wore his leather jacket even in 90-degree weather and smoked cigars like a chimney. You had sure that it had to be doing some type of damage at the rate he smoked. But talking about how made you wanted this guy to touch you, when you didn't like touch, something you warned him about in the beginning. Logan tried to respect it, but you never moved away like you did with others, you'd visibly flinch away when you didn't like it.

He leant down to keep reading from your notebook;

Last night, we stayed up late together, he'd been drinking but regardless he was still Logan. He frustrated you with because of a random that you blabbed about. Always trying to pick on you and pretend to be agitated, you hoped anyway. You always tried not to blush around him, but last night it just happened. You really hoped he didn't notice. Its why you couldn't look into his eyes, you were getting far too attached for just friends.

It was him. Logan turned the page in the notebook to continue to read.

Spending all this time with him is making me think about him subconsciously. His mossy green eyes worming their way into your dreams, fantasizing about your fingers in his hair, his hips thrusting into yours. You didn't know what he looked like down there but you knew what he looked like shirtless. God, you wanted to feel him. You felt so creepy dreaming and writing about this. But it was what happened in your dream, and it didn't help that you were in love with him.

Fuck. He really shouldn't be reading this right now. But before he could read anymore, the door creaked open and you smiled over at him, "Hey, Lo." His eyes went to your tiny little shorts you were wearing, god all of this was driving him insane. Logan couldn't let this slide though, he just had to tease you, wanted to see that blush he'd evidently missed the other night. He blamed the dim lightly, but the sun was shining bright through the window. Your eyes going to his hand that laid on the page of your journal, without him even saying a word a flush bloomed on your cheeks.

"You've been writing about me, mouse." Logan stated, he didn't even have to question it. He also made fun of your voice, when you get worked up your started to squeak a little your voice getting high pitched. His fingers dance along the lines and scribbles on the paper, circling his digit around his name.

"I-I can explain." You mumbled, your hands coming up to feign innocence.

"I think this did all the explaining I need." Logan continued, he dipped his down to read from the book, "I think I need to move on from him, but he was your best friend, and he was perfect. You think I'm perfect?" He teased as you darted towards the journal as he yanked it away from the table before bringing it up over his head. You let out a squeak as you jumped, the sound and action making him laugh at your height difference. You lightly shoved at Logan's buff chest, as he barely moved an inch as you hit at his arm.

"Give it back!" You cried, as you glared into his eyes. The look on your face warmed his heart as he shoved the journal far away from you. "H-how do you know it's about you?" Logan smiled at you, the lines on his face crinkling as he made eye contact with you before looking up at the book.

"The other day Logan stopped me from falling, and my hands gripped his bicep, I could the ridges and veins, god you were just crazy for him."

"Logan." You whined, before flipped the book shut before leaning down to hand it back to you. You snatched it from his grip, bringing it to his chest.

"Wanna know my favorite part, got it memorized, liked it so much." Logan hummed, as he stepped closer to your retreating form. You felt like prey, Logan the predator swirling in you, his eyes were dark and his steps purposeful. "His mossy green eyes worming their way into your dreams, fantas-."

"Logan pleasse stop." You pleaded, your doe eyes looking up at his as you fell back against the door as it shut behind you. Logan's hand coming over your head as he leant into you.

"-fantasizing about your fingers in his hair, his hips thrusting into yours." Logan's voice grew darker as he dipped his head into your neck, the hot air emitting from his mouth fanning over your skin. Making you shiver as one of his hands fell to your waist as his eyes dipped to meet yours. "How long have you been writing about me?"

"When did we meet?" You retorted, a anxious giggle falling from your mouth as your eyes darting away from his in shyness. Logan sighed out, his nose meeting the side of your cheekbone the scruff his beard threading to rub against your jaw.

"Well I'd like to make your fantasies come true." Logan grumbled into your ear as goosebumps rose across your neck. Your hand fell to his waist as you moved in closer to him.

"Please do." You panted, throwing caution to the wind with Logan so close and looking at you like that.

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

Ok but imagine:

You have the biggest crush on Logan and it's really hard to hide it

*imagine him looking down at you like that tho, *shivers*

prompt highlighted @unboundprompts

Logan couldn't explain his feelings for you.

You were patient with him, and he slowly learned about your past, about your quirks, your blabbering, your views on romance and what you want for your future. He didn't know why when you spoke about the future, he pictured you by his side. You spoke about your hobbies, so whenever he saw you doing them, he found joy watching you do something you're so passionate about.

It would be fleeting touches, times where he didn't even mean to, but you never moved, always leaning into his touch or hovering very close. Then you'd flashed your eyes up to him and your eyes would widen before you moved away, then preceded to cautiously avoid even making eye contact with him.

You couldn't help the slight crack in your voice as Logan cracked a joke, something that wasn't really even that funny but because he said something to you, you are just so full of joy, you don't know what to but to uncontrollably laugh.

It would constantly be daydreaming about him, and him knowing about your feelings because just obvious cues. The way your heartbeat picked up, when your eyes connected, or when he spoke to you.

There was one day, when you had the weirdest interaction, but you couldn't stop thinking about it. You were pestering him as he was trying to smoke a cigar out on the porch. Logan acted like he didn't like your rambling, but he loved hearing you talk. Then he started picking on you, making you feel a flush on your cheeks

"I hate you," You teased.

"You love me," He responded.

"I do." You breathed, before staring up at Logan completely embarrassment at the words that came out of your mouth. He didn't say anything to you, just lifting an eyebrow before puffing on his cigar. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"Night sweetheart." He mumbled around his roll of tobacco between his lips, the smoke bellowing up into the night air.

Part 2???

Not really a proper request but I’d love some more fluff??? Maybe winding down after a tough mission??? As much as I’d love to fuck the man I’m also a silly romantic who wants to just hold hands 😕

I’M PROUD OF YOU ⟢

in which logan’s never been exposed to affection before you, so he still is taken back when you show it.

warnings: insane fluff, softie!logan, mutant!reader

i lowkey changed the plot of the first x-men movie if you squint but ignore that. this also takes place during the time of x-men (2000) and X2, kinda in between iykwim

this is the corniest shit ever sos.. sorry to disappoint😗

if you were to ask logan what his favorite feeling was, he’d probably tell you that he doesn’t have feelings and that you’re a goddamn moron. however upon rare occasion he might cheese about how he felt when he first met you.

that day was the first time logan had felt what love was, what it could be.

—

like logan, you too were a result of an experiment that left you with claws and adamantium insides. the x-men had picked you both up at the same time, making their first mistake by leaving you alone in a room to stab each other to what would’ve been death. however the mistake was made up for when jean caught you and logan on top of the roof while trauma bonding with a side of beer.

nobody could’ve prepared logan for the day he’d meet someone so much like him. mostly because nobody knew that day would ever come.

but, damn, was he glad it did.

—

“babe!” you heard logan whine from the bedroom just on the other side of the door of the bathroom you occupied.

you smiled, “one second!” you pleaded, muffled by the toothbrush and toothpaste in your mouth. you circle the brush around your mouth once more, smiling in the mirror as you glide your tongue over your sharp fangs before spitting out the toothpaste.

upon opening the bathroom door, you wipe your mouth before throwing the hand towel somewhere in the bathroom.

the second that logan feels the bed dip beside him, his eyes flash open and a cheesy smile takes over his face.

“hi.” you smile, stroking his forearm with your thumb.

“hi,” he looks almost drunk on you, and you loved it.

you adjusted yourself to lie flat on your back, allowing logan to come snuggle on top of you. you felt his large hands wrap under your body and around your waste, pulling your bodies as close together as they could possibly go.

as you began to run your hands through logan’s soft hair, you could feel his body loosen as a long, shaky sigh escaped his mouth.

you brushed through logan’s faux ears, twisting them around your fingers to make them stand up higher.

you tilt your head, looking down at logan with pure adoration. “y’know lo,” you start, pulling logan’s hair back gently and forcing him to look you in the eyes.

he hums, urging you to continue. “you did a good job these past few days, i’m proud of you.” you smile softly, continuing to stroke his hair carefully.

oddly enough, you felt logan tense up again, but it was different this time. he wasn’t mad, or upset. it almost felt as if he was adjusting to your words; taking them in.

“what?” he asks, almost silently, looking up at you with large eyes.

you swear you could feel your heart near snap in half at how unnatural affection felt to logan. you had been through amounts of trauma and torture, too. a lot of it with logan, even if you have no remembrance of it. however the art of showing love just came easier to you than it did to logan.

you cup his face in your hands, his facial hair rough against your soft hands. “i’m proud of you, lo. i’m proud of how you handled yourself these past few days,” you reassured, gliding your thumb across his skin so slow that it almost pained him.

he only continues to stare at you, studying your face with love and tenderness.

you giggle; a sound that logan could listen to on repeat for days on end. “this is the part where you say ‘thank you, sugar. i love you.” you slide your hands past his ears and down his neck to his shoulders, holding them with a soft but firm grip. you kiss your way from his neck down to where your hands sit, leaving your head there, your chin sitting on logan’s shoulder.

“i love you, sugar. thank you.”

“close enough.”

taglist!! (like this post to be added)

@velvrei

—

Naughty Nun || Gabriel Van Helsing x Reader Smut

Summary: You're the nun working at an old abbey. You happen to know Gabriel Van Helsing himself, the greatest monster hunter of all time. After another mission, he visits you and he's hurt. He expects you to help him, not only to deal with his wounds.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 1875

Authors: Cass & Rouge

A/N: We fell in love with Hugh Jackman, not so long time ago we watched Van Helsing together and were like “Let’s write something!”, so we did! We are sure he won’t appear on our blog ever again but we simply wanted to write it! ENJOY!

Gabriel wasn't really lucky, sure, he was an infamous monster hunter known as Van Helsing but even he had bad days. Encounter with a group of vampires was the main reason for it. In short, it didn't go so well, Gabriel didn't get bitten but he got pretty beaten up.

Now, covered in dirt, blood, bruises and other unidentified injuries, he hobbled to one of the chapels to find his friend who was a great nurse.

"I am done for today," Gabriel muttered going trough big entrance. "Oh, sister Y/N. I kinda... I kinda need your help." He said loudly, he knew the chapel will be empty at this point so he wasn't afraid someone's gonna see him.

You rushed to him, holding hems of your habit in one hand, you slipped arm under his shoulder to support him. "Van Helsing, what the hell has happened to you this time?!," you asked. "Don't answer, I don't really want to know!" You led him to another room and sat him in the wooden bench. "Wait here and don't die, I go brings medicaments!," you informed him.

"Hell? Isn't it like the forbidden word for you!?" He asked, teasing you. No matter the state he was in, he never stopped testing you. You weren't a real sister, you were helping around the chapel a lot but that was it, Gabriel felt less guilty for flirting with you or teasing you that other sisters didn't scold him.

Gabriel let out a growl as he tried to slowly remove layers of clothes that would for sure interrupt in your work. He removed his coat and then his thick shirt, now he was sitting shirtless, waiting at you like a good boy he 'was'.

You ran to him, holding small wooden box with bandages and some kind of mixtures. "Fuck, it doesn't look good, Gabriel," you told him as you poured some alcohol on the rag. "Oh, look, I see a warewolf!," You pointed on the ceiling and when he looked up you pressed the rag soaked with alcohol to his wound. "I'm sorry, tried to distract you."

Gabriel yelled and hissed loudly. "FUCK! It didn't help! Couldn't you simply hit me in the head!?" He said highly annoyed and let out a loud sigh. "Thank you for your help, sister," Gabriel said. "And I got into a fight with a pack of vampires." He informed you. "I think they broke my ribs..."

You shook your head. "Have I missed something? Two days ago you sworn at the holy Crucifix that you won't be messing with them without proper equipment and now this? Eh, Gabriel, you fucking dumbshit," you whispered into his ear and kissed his cheek briefly. You pressed his sides gently and smiled. "They ain't broken. Don't worry. I gotta put stitches though."

He rolled his eyes. "This wasn't my idea, I got a mission to do." Gabriel told you and hissed as you pressed on his ribs. "Oh, so now you whisper dumbshit but you were saying hell out loud? Nice sister." He teased you before stealing a kiss from your lips with a cocky smile on his.

"Shut your mouth, Van Helsing, and maybe you'll get some of the treat," you winked at him. You gently cleaned wounds in his chest and stomach, one of them required stitches so you out them on. Then, you wrapped each wound in bandage and prepared him some mixture to drink. "Drink, it's gonna help."

He looked at you with the suspicious look but took the bottle from you. Gabriel took a sip and was ready to spit it out because of the taste but he swallowed the mixture. "What the hell was that?" He muttered wiping his lips.

"Something that will help you gain proper level of stamina," you informed softly and offered him hand. "Come on, we gotta out your ass to bed so you can rest, sweetie."

Gabriel grabbed your hand and smiled. "Now I am sweetie but before I was a dumbshit. You change your mind really often, sister Y/N." He teased as he followed you to your room. Inside, he locked the door and wrapped his arm around your waist. "So, sister. Let's see if your mixture started work and I know the excellent way to test my stamina." Gabriel purred and kissed you.

You led him to your bed and pushed him on it. "You can watch but don't ya dare to touch," you pretended to sound angrily.

You moved your body and rocked hips as you were slowly taking your thick, brown robe of, reviling your shoulder first. "Like what you see?"

Gabriel smiled and giggled. "Oh, sister, I have a feeling that devil himself took control over you." He said getting comfortable on the bed despite alle the injurys that slighlty annoyed him.

You slipped your habit lower, freeing your boobs. You looked at him and smilee, playing with them a little before slipping rest of your robe down. Younwere in your velvet panties only, you walked to him and looked a him from above. "Ah, Gabriel. What shall I do with you, huh? Look what you're doing to me. First you got into troubles and later you came like a hit puppy to me to be rescued."

"Just come here!" He grabbed your waist and pulled you into the bed. Gabriel quickly turned both of you so he was towering over you. He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. Gabriel pulled away after a moment and looked at you with eyes full of adoration. "I missed you, Y/N." Man addmited before pulling you into another kiss.

You reached hands to his belt and undid it quickly looking him deep in the eyes. "Oh, how much I missed you, Gabriel. I was afraid everyday that you might not come back to me," you slipped hand in his pants and smiled, wrapping palm around his soft member. You squeezed and jerked on him while kissing him with tongue.

Gabriel growled into a kiss as you jerked him off. "Such a naughty, naughty sister you are." He purred before returning to kiss. Gabriel missed you so much that just a bit of your touch made him rock hard. "And look what are you doing to me."

You rolled with him trying to be careful to not hurt him. You tugged his pants down and pumped his shaft few times before taking him in your mouth.

Gabriel gasped and looked down on you. "Fuck, Y/N." He moaned quietly before moving his hand into your hair to gain some of the control over your movement. He bucked his hips to push himself deeper into your throat, Gabriel was really desperat for any feeling.

You pulled him out of your mouth to lick vein on his lower part. You sucked his cock before sucking it back into you mouth and bobbing head quickly back and forth. Your free hand massaged his balls as you deep-throated him.

"Fuck." He gasped and rolled his head back into your pillow. Gabriel grabbed your hair and your head down, pushing his cock as deep as possible. He emptied himself into your throat and sighed loudly. "I think I waited on you too long or I got too excited." He teased you.

"I see this, Gabriel," you said as you slipped out of your panties and straddled his bearded face. "If you'll be a good boy, you'll get a price," you informed.

Gabriel smiled and wrapped arms around your hips, he pulled you down to place gently kisses on your clit and lips. First, he played with you by sucking your lips gently before pushing just the tip of his tongue past your lips. Soon he started to eat you at like a hungry animal.

"Oh my holy hell," you rolled head back into your head, pleasure was already unbearable. You waited for this too long. You craved him and his touch, he was spinning your head round. You rocked your hips quickly trying to.het more friction while.you reached your hand back to jerk over his yet hard again member.

"Don't use this word, sister." He lectured you and winked at you before pressing his face to your heat, pushing his tongue deep into you. One of his hand relised your hip and his hand traveled to your entrance. Gabriel looked up on you before he started pushing two fingers into you. Now he was eating you out while fingering you.

"Fuck you, van Helsing," you grunted rolling head back and jerking hardly onto his cock. Soon, you got off his face and bended down to kiss his lips, you tasted your wetness on them and grinned happily. Then, you straddled his lap and guided his cock right into your core, your pussy sucked it all and you let out a moan.

He smiled and gladly kissed you back. Gabriel sat up, pulling you closer to him, he started to buck his hips into you while playing with one of your breasts. He was kissing and biting your neck as his fingers played with your nipple.

"Just like this, Gabriel and you'll fucking make me cum so hard around your sweet cock," you whispered into his ear as your nails digged into his shoulders. You bucked your hips for him as well, his cock was spreading your inner walls on and on.

"Come on, don't hold it, sweetheart. I want to feel you, I want to feel your pussy spasming around my hard cock." Gabriel purred and his hand traveled to your clit to rub gently circles there. His thrusts became deeper and faster.

"God, yes, yes, yes!," You threw head back in outburst of pleasure that overwhelmed your body. Cold shivers ran down your spine. After a second you removed yourself from him and laid down on your side, wiggling your bun at him. "Come one, van Helsing, what are you waiting for? Come on and save me, I'm losing my mind."

He let out a quiet, tired chuckle. "You really love to tease me." Gabriel purred and laid down on his side right behind you. He let out a quiet hiss because of his injuries but soon he pushed back into you. He took your leg and place it above his hips, his hand traveled to your clit to continue his fun while he fucked you hard.

You reached hand back to wrap.it around his neck, you were a moaning mess, whimpering his name and whining about how good your pussy feels.when it's being fucked by his rock hard cock. You massaged you breasts then placed hamd on his palm between your thighs. "I'm cumming!" You screamed.

"Good girl." He purred and kissed your nape as his hips didn't stop moving. Gabriel followed you soon and pushed deep inside of you, filling you up. He growled and nuzzled to your back as he tried to catch his breath, the hand that was on your clit now gently stroked your belly. "I love you, Y/N." He whispered, kissing your shoulder.

You turned your head to kiss him deeply, lazily. "I love you too. Nuzzle to me and rest, you're safe and sound.”

Pandies🐼: @imidarogerson @grossograsso @thewildgardensstuff @leven-and-ashley @la-verdura @bearded-steve-rogers @sebbystan-plantlover @atuckyismylife @krispyjellyfishzombie @personality-within @haseki-huricihan @choppedgardenwhispers @vroobelek @lattimelka @chris-beamz @hidden-secrets69 @purepearls @volcanoxxx @kastrup-sofie @mikkal-akasaki @withoutashadowofhope @radbluebirdeagle @marvel-fan-site @smutloversblog @buquete @super-psycho-love69 @tanglesss @peter-sommer @baysidewest @vegemania @philip-stan @chodiusmmm @subwaystunnel @tykorclint @dagger-dragger @kurant @nothing-can-least-forever @oxfordkipem @deliciousbouquet90 @tuptuptup @hellenna80 @karina-marina9 @latimeriaaa @bratko @wurld89 @scott-evans @kiss-me-rouge @ovonel-espaniol @dancing-tacco @ratugadhi @white-tiger-shangrila @axn69 @eternal-life-awaits @mrs-laura-harmon @artsy-inside @gleeeeees @darkllaama @jatut @agawux @fuzzy-tigrrr @jrjohnsson2 @maaargoshaaa @dontgetmewrongman @einexx @nwmtagsb @anini71 @secretlygrantaire @kyloren-supreme-ben @infinity-stones-seeker @thehappyspider @wings4life @huxyluxy @dontbeafraidchild @misafiryanki @electronicpatrolcollective @thisismysecrethappyplace @aulika @hidden-secrets69 @a-happy-wolf @creative-seahorse

This was...

HOT

Thank you for participating in our challenge. ~Panda Squad 🐼💖

PRIMAL DESIRE THAT LIVES WITHIN • Wolverine / Logan x Reader smut

A/N: I participated in @thepaperpanda writing challenge with prompt number 11.

Warnings: smut, daddy link, dirty talking

Words: 1360

Summary: you’re Logan’s partner and you two share some intimate time together.

Czytaj dalej

Baby Come Over

Wolverine/Logan Howlett x black fem reader

gif made by blursbian

Summary: Wade is hellbent of getting you to meet his new roommate, but what is his motive? (Note: I am not the best writer, but I had motivation, and the title is definitely not taken from Virgo’s Groove)

Warning: drunken asshole, Wade Wilson, cursing, unprotected piv smut (wrap it before you tap it) fingering, riding, soft!dom Logan MDNI 18+

Word Count: 4.2

-

Wade encouraged you to meet the new man in his life, not knowing if it was a new friend, a boyfriend, or someone he wanted to pursue romantically. Knowing him, it was probably both, but you agreed anyway. "Come on, sugar. I'm a vigilante, you're a fine-as-wine vigilante, and he's an old but good-looking mutant who needs some TLC— he'll love you immediately," Wade insisted, bringing it up again as you two talked over a late dinner while sitting on his couch.

Wade, I have to work all next week," you said, trying to get out of it. "Yeah, bartending is so hard. When was the last time you got laid? The pink vibrator doesn't count," he added for extra measure, almost making you slap him. "None of your business. Besides, I don't ask about your business even though we, unfortunately, share a wall. And why did you go through my drawer?!”

“My point being said, he needs friends, you need a new one, and if you won’t be with him I will! And besides, I'm Marvel Jesus, there's nothing I can’t do!” Wade insisted, emphasizing his statement with his hands and ignoring your question.

You knew better than to argue with him because he could go on for hours, so you agreed. You had pulled your braids into a ponytail and walked next door, where you saw the small get-together Wade had arranged. “Sweetie! You made it!” he cheered, answering the door, and dragging you in. He put you in front of him as he walked you to the back of the apartment, where Logan wasn’t facing you.

“He’s a bit grumpy today, but I’ll talk to him. Hey, three-pronged wolf!” Wade said, trying to get his attention.

He got it all right.

Before you could even introduce yourself you felt something pierce your arm, three things. You were met with the face of a man who looked like he was ready to knock someone out, it was Logan. His face quickly changed when he realized he hadn’t stabbed Wade, and immediately tried to cover the wound he made. “Ah, shit!” He cursed, looking you in the eyes.

“Now this is not how we greet potential lovers, gramps! Shame on you.” Wade scolded playfully, looking between you and Logan. “Well that’s a good icebreaker, or skin breaker I should say.” He said, looking at your already healing skin.

“Well, Logan, this is my best friend, she heals like us, curses like me. Sugar, this is Logan, the old good-looking man you should kiss for helping save the timeline. Do not fuck on my bed, and I don’t babysit.” He said, patting your cheek before walking away. You watched him leave and then leaned on the wall.

“Hell of an introduction, neighbor,” You said, trying to start a conversation. He didn’t respond but kept looking over your features as you did the same. Wade hit one thing on the mark: He was fine as hell. “How long have you known him?” Logan asked. “Ehhh, a couple of months, he’s good people, but he can be annoying as fuck some.” You said, that you two agreed.

It turns out that you both had something in common, besides the healing factor. Both of you were no strangers to drinks, and pain was a familiar feeling for both of you.

And that was how the foundation of the friendship was built. You didn’t talk much, mostly just passing each other in the hallway, a short greeting when you left for work and coming back home. That was until he found the bar you worked in. It was 5 minutes before closing, and you heard the man sit down. “What’ll it be buddy?” You asked, still wiping down the table with your back towards him.

“Whatever’s left.” Logan’s voice said, cutting through the faint sound of Sade’s voice coming through the jukebox. Your head snapped around at the familiar tone of the voice. “Wade mentioned you worked in a bar, been wondering which one it was,” Logan said, sitting down at the bar. “You didn’t think to look at the closest bar which is only a 15-minute walk from here?” You asked, leaning on the bar, a laugh leaving your lips.

He reached over, grabbed a bottle of beer, and shrugged, “Good point.” He said while taking a drink, a long one. “Let me guess. Roommate annoyance?” You asked, seeing him set down the bottle, and bringing him another one. “Yep. He made me leave the place today.” Logan explained. “Any reason for him kicking you out?” You joked, meeting his ever-so-serious eyes.

“He said either I try and make friends, or he walks around naked until I leave.” He said, almost making you cringe, “No one wants to see that.” Logan let out a short hum, before downing the beer before putting it down. As

You reached for the bottle your hand brushed his, and your eyes met in an awkward look. “Sorry-.” “My bad.” You both said at the same time. Logan then held your hand, moving it completely taking it off the bottle, and set it down behind the bar for you with his other hand.

“There. Less confusion.” He said, sitting back down. You nodded and looked at your still joined hands, noticing how his completely covered yours. You allowed yourself one more look before slowly sliding it out of his hands. As you finished cleaning up and locking up the bar, Logan stayed. As you walked back to the apartments, he walked beside you, in total silence, and both of you did.

That’s how it continued for almost a whopping 2 months. He’d show up for the last call, talk until closing, and walk you home in silence.

Until one night Logan walked in 1 hour earlier than his normal time. “You’re here early.” You pointed out, looking at the clock above the door. “Well, Wade mentioned something about you hating thunderstorms, thought you might want a familiar face around.” You never froze so fast in your life. “Oh? He told you that?” You asked, passing him a beer, Logan nodding in response.

“What if I told you he lied?” You asked, seeing him stop mid-drink to look at you, eyes with confusion. “I’m gonna strangle him,” Logan said. “He’d probably like it,” then you thought for a moment, “No, he’d love that.” He dropped the beer just in time for you to see a chuckle leave his lips with the taste of a smile, and your heart jumped. You already found him attractive, but that smile could’ve made an entire country swoon and sigh.

You looked away just in time for him to not catch you staring. “So, what do you do other than work?” Logan asked. “Vigilantism.” You replied, holding up another beer, switching up his empty bottle for a new cold one. “What did you do in your universe?” You asked. “Was a part of a team, had a suit and everything,” Logan explained. “Did they have abilities like you?” You asked, cleaning up some glasses while he talked. “Better. Way better than these claws in my skin.” He said, looking down at the counter harder than he should've.

You heard a little bit of how he was “the worst Wolverine” from Wade, and given how he was acting right now, he might have told the truth. “You remind me of one of them too. You don't look like her, but your mannerism reminds me of her.” Logan added. You took a chance and put a hand over his, “I won't pry, but if you ever want to talk, let me know.” He looked up at you with a greatful gaze, nodding his head and letting his hand hold yours.

You then looked at the clock and took your hand away from his “Closing time. Imma lock up real quick.” You said, wiping down the tables. As you were about to lock up, one man stumbled in. “We’re closed man. Go home.” You yelled. “One beer, sweetheart, it’s all I ask.” The random drunk asked, now grabbing onto your sleeve. “Were closed. Let go.” You said in a harsher tone. Trying to get your sleeve free.

“Come on sugar, just one drink.” He asked, eyes looking you up and down. “Dude. Let go!” You yelled, now trying to get his hand off you, but he had a strong grip on your wrist. Before he could respond Logan grabbed his arm, freeing you and walking him out. “Hey man what are you-.” Before he could finish Logan put his claws under the man’s neck. “The lady asked you 3 times to leave. I’m giving you 3 seconds to bounce before these find a home in your neck.”

The man stumbled back before slipping out the door. “You alright?” He asked, looking at your torn sleeve. “I’m alright.” You sighed, putting your jacket on. He walked next to you that night, almost arm and arm with you while you both made small talk. “I could’ve handled that asshole you know?” You asked him, bringing up the drunken man again. “I know, just wanted to do it.” He said, lighting a cigar, smirking, making you chuckle. “There she is.” He said, looking down at you. “What there? You asked, now across the street from the apartment. “That smile.” He said, still smoking the cigar.

As you opened the door to the building, you missed the faint blush on his cheeks. But you didn’t miss that look in his eyes and the way he looked over your body. But as he tried to open the door to his shared apartment, it was locked. “Are you fucking serious?” Logan said, now banging on the door. “Wade! Open the door!” he yelled.

Wade locked me out, and he’s not waking up.” He said, looking over at you. “I’ll try and call him.” You said, pulling out your phone and trying to call him, only for it to go straight to voicemail. “This son of a bitch.” you sighed, and put your phone away. You could tell what Logan was about to ask, so you beat him to it.

“I got a couch,” you said, unlocking your door. “I don't want to-.” “Logan, come over,” you interrupted, moving. so he could get in. You could tell he wanted to protest, but he knew he didn’t have a choice or another place to sleep. He gave the space a once-over and nodded. “Nice place,” Logan said.“I'm gonna take a quick shower, and I’ll be right out,” You said, he nodded in acknowledgment.

You turned on your heel, went down the hallway, and hopped in the bathroom. After 15 minutes you put on an oversized shirt and sleep short and walked to your close. You grabbed an extra pillow and top sheet for him.

“Here I got-.” Before you could finish you saw Logan with his shirt off looking you up and down. It was then you remembered you had gotten out of the shower, only wearing an oversized shirt and your shorts, that barely covered your thighs.

You saw his eyes staring at your legs, and then back up at you. His eyes were hungry with desire, and it was safe to say yours were too. His and was clenching and unclenching by his side. “Honey,” he breathed, “go to bed before I make a mistake.” You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. You moved closer, setting the blanket and pillow on the couch, your eyes never leaving his. “Please, walk away,” Logan said, licking his lips. “Why? When we both want the same thing?” You asked.

You swear you saw his breathing stop.

That was all he needed. He surged forward, claiming your lips with his. You could still taste the beer on his lips. His hand found your waist and then your thighs, lifting you, and groaned, looking up at you with a wolfish grin. Before he could say anything, you kissed him, your nails running through his hair as your tongue fought for control against his. His hands mapped out your skin, going over every contour and gripping your ass as he rolled his hips into yours.

A shiver ran through your veins, your thin shorts doing little to hide how much you wanted him, and he knew it. “Already? We’ve barely even started and you’re soaked?” He teased, one of his hands leaving your hips and dipping under the fabric. His fingers ran over your folds, his lips forming into a smirk as he sucked another mark into your neck. A soft moan left your lips as you felt two of his fingers dip into your cunt, “Oh fuck.”

“That’s it, honey, let me hear you,” Logan whispered. You let out a loud moan when his fingers hit your G-spot, your nails digging into his skin, emitting a groan from his lips. “Sorry.” You whispered, looking at him, only to see a feral smile on his lips. “You have no idea how much I loved that.” Logan groaned, his fingers working another finger in, making you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans.

“I wish you would.” He grunted, grabbed a handful of your braids, and pulled your head back, assaulting your neck with bites and kisses. “Logan!” You squealed, feeling his thumb find your clit. “Cum for me baby, let me hear it,” Logan whispered. Your hands made crescent marks on his back as you came undone, feeling his lips soothe you down from your climax.

You felt his fingers slowly come to a halt before Logan pulled his fingers out of you, his other hand letting go of your braids. “Still there, honey?” He asked, peppering kisses across your neck. You couldn’t even speak, your brain was still fogged from the orgasm you just went through. “Holy shit,” You breathed out. You finally cracked your eyes open, meeting Logan’s hungry eyes and seeing his fingers disappear in his mouth.

His tongue swirled around his digits, his eyes trained on yours. “Taste like heaven.” He said, licking his lips before claiming your lips in another kiss. You snapped out of the trance you were in as the taste of your juices hit your tongue.

You need him. You needed him now.

Your hand went to his pants, slipping under his jeans and finding his cock. He was rock-hard. He shuddered under your touch, a deep moan leaving his lips. Logan helped you get his jeans on the floor, his cock springing free and hitting his chest. “Goddamn. Someone’s blessed.” You whispered. “Is that someone you?” Logan asked, his hands slipping under the waistband of your underwear.

“Hold still for me baby,” he sighed and your arms framed his shoulders. You heard his claws come out and slice your bottoms off. “Someone’s done that before.” You teased, watching as his hand threw the fabric on the floor. Logan didn’t respond as he started to pick you up, but you held him firmly on the couch. “Nope, stay right there.” You breathed you, stroking his cock a few times.

He watched your hand pump him before positioning yourself above him. Logan’s eyes were trained on your pussy as you eased onto him. As you finally bottomed out, Logan let out a loud moan, and it almost made you cum on the spot. “Goddamn, you trying to kill me?” He asked, his hands going back to your hips. You didn’t respond as you started to move up and down, riding his cock.

Logan did little to stop the moans that were leaving his lips. “Fuck, honey. You’re squeezing me like a goddamn vice,” Logan sighed, letting you set the pace. You kissed his neck and sucked marks into his neck, not giving a damn that they wouldn’t be there tomorrow. As you bit one spot closer to his collarbone, he let out a whine. You focused on that spot and bounced on his cock a little faster.

He suddenly gripped your hips as a broken moan left his lips, “Fuck, wait.” He sighed, holding you still on his cock. “Why’d you make me stop?” You asked, looking at his screwed-shut eyes. Logan suddenly grabbed you and picked you up, still keeping you on his cock. “Which one is your room?” He asked. “Down the hall to the left,” You said. Logan walked down the hallway and you thanked god you left the door open.

He laid you and climbed over you, kneeling on the bed and pulling you closer, his cock moving between your thighs to rest on top of your belly button. You leaned up and rested on your forearms, and looked back down at his cock. “To answer your question from earlier,” Logan said, leaning down and tilting your chin up to look at him, “I stopped you because there’s more room on a bed than a couch.”

He looked down at you and licked his lips before catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Your hand cupped his cheek as you returned it, your tongue finding its way into his mouth.

You were so caught up in his kisses you didn’t register the head of his cock tapping your clit until you felt it slam into you, a scream falling out of your lips. Logan laid you back in your sheets and let his hand that wasn’t holding your thigh trail in between your chest and down your stomach as he fucked you. “Keep those eyes open for me, ya hear?” He asked, you nodding in response.

He didn’t waste a second after. Logan’s cock began to thrust in and out of you, sliding almost all the way out of you to only slam back in, emitting a moan from you every time. You writhed under him, looking up at his wild and feral expression. His mouth was open, looking down at your fucked out one, moaning loudly as you held the pillow behind you.

You could hear the sound of your headboard hitting the wall, the grunts coming out of his mouth, and you didn’t give a damn if anyone heard. All you cared about was the amount of pleasure he was giving you. As he hit that one spot that cut your breath off, you bit the pillow and screwed your eyes shut.

Immediately you felt Logan stop and he grabbed your wrist with one hand and pinned it beside your head, his own hovering over yours. “I said eyes open, darling. And don’t even think of hiding those pretty fucking moans from me.” He whispered. He then dropped his hand from your thigh and put it over his.

He now used one hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, “You still here honey?” He asked, you nodded in response and opened your eyes. Logan was grinning down at you, taking in your tired face, “There’s my girl.” He softly kisses your lips before picking up his bruising pace, making you scream again, “Logan!” Your nails found their way to his back, making marks on his skin. “That’s right honey, let everyone on this goddamn floor who’s fucking you,” Logan grunted, using his free hand to hold your hip, his fingers digging into your skin.

The bed was creaking more as his thrust picked up, one of his hands starting to play with your clit. You instinctively let out a high-pitched whine and you swore he growled for a moment. “Logan, I’m gonna-, oh fuck!” You moaned, your hips bucking into his as you writhed your bed. “Yeah that’s it, let me see you come.” Logan cooed, His hand working your clit faster.

It didn’t take long for a long moan to erupt out of your mouth, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your walls squeezed him like a vice as his free thumb caressed your chin. “Now that’s a sight I need to see more of.” Logan moaned with a smile on his face. You felt his hips pick up the pace and his moans getting louder as he was on the verge of his orgasm, both of his hands now holding your legs open.

“Tell me where honey,” Logan asked, looking down at you. Your legs only pulled him closer, and that was all the confirmation he needed. A sinful whimper left his lips as he spilled into you, his eyes screwing shut. Logan held himself up and let the waves of the orgasm wear off before he moved, flopping down in your bed next to you. “Goddamn.” He sighed, catching his breath.

You nodded, looking up at the ceiling. “For a 200-plus-year-old, you fuck like you’re 30.” You said, looking over at him only to meet his gaze, “I don’t hear you complaining.” Logan teased, pulling a chuckle from you. “After the two orgasms you gave me, I’d be a goddamn fool too.” You said with a laugh. A yawn soon came from your mouth as you turned on your side, “Wore you out that much?” Logan asked, leaning over and looking down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah, and I’m, once again, not complaining,” you said, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep. That night was one of the best you ever had, followed by one of the best mornings. You awoke to the sound of someone breathing in your ear and an arm around your waist.

Logan slept in your bed last night, and you slept in his arms. As looked down, his hand was rubbing your hip through the sheets. “You’re awake?” You asked, turning around and meeting his eyes, “I’ve been up for a while.” You felt his thumb caress your cheek, a tender touch matching the emotion in his eyes. “I know this is probably a stupid to ask, given the circumstances, but would you like to grab a drink with me? Ya know, outside of work,” Logan asked.

You only leaned up and kissed his lips before pulling back and looking at him, “I’d love to.” Logan broke out into a grin that could rival the sun and returned the kiss. After a quick shower and getting dressed, you were about to make breakfast when a loud knock hit your door. “Who is it?” Logan asked, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. You couldn't stop your eyes from wandering down his chest, but you refocused, “I don't know, I didn't answer it.

The person knocked harder a second time, almost startling you. Logan walked forward and opened the door, only to find no one there. You peeped out the hallway, saw Wade’s door open, and heard music coming from it. “I think I know who it was.” You recognized the song coming from inside too: Sexual Healing. As you walked in, Wade was singing along before he saw you walk in and popped a confetti cannon.

“Congratulations!” he yelled, and Blind Al popped hers as well. “I guess Christmas came early because I know you did last night,” Wade then looked over your shoulder, and nodded, “Both of you did.” Logan was standing behind you and closed the door, only in the towel. “What the hell is all of this?” Logan asked. “A small celebration for you finally getting laid. All part of my plan last night.” Wade explained. Logan immediately walked past you, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Well come on man, I knew it was bound to happen when you took more than 15 minutes to get back, you think I locked you out by accident?” Wade grinned, and it all clicked. “You knew I would let him crash?” You asked, seeing the shit-eating grin grow on his face. “Oh I knew you would let him do more than that, sugar, besides that's what you both fucked on wasn't it?”

You and Logan shared a look, confused about how we knew. “First of all, neither of you tried to be quiet, at all, especially you Donna Summer,” Wade said, pointing at you. “Two, I could hear the headboard hitting the wall thanks to tall strong big dick vintage-rine over here,” he continued. “And three, someone with claws made a little hole in the wall, and trust me, I heard it all.”

Logan’s mouth was open while you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Wade then went to the fridge and pulled out a cake and got candles. “Happy first fuckiversary, my friends,” Wade said, putting the candle in the middle, above a gel doodle of two stick figures. One of them had boobs and was on her back with her legs in the air while the other with claws was in front of her. “Made this little doodle last night,” Wade said as he lit the candle, “go ahead, blow it, you’ll be doing a lot of that later.”

You didn't miss the wink he gave Logan as you blew out the candle. You took the cake and looked at Wade. “Thanks for the cake,” You said, hugging him, “and thanks for locking the door.” You took the cake and then left, Logan shutting the door behind him as you both went back to your apartment. “He’s never gonna let that go is he?” Logan asked, you shaking your head in response. “Nope, now go back over there and get dressed.”

He had a quick, confused look on his face. "Why?" you explained, throwing him his pants and shirt. "You made a damn hole in my wall, you're helping me fix it." "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, walking back over to his and Wade's apartment.

You never thought you would see the day you would thank Wade for bringing you a man, but I guess Marvel Jesus works in mysterious ways.

I would floss my teeth on his happy trail.

#It's been months and I'm still grateful for this scene

Hi! I like your Deadpool as your boyfriend post, can you please do Logan as your boyfriend next? 😄

logan howlett (wolvie)

…as your boyfriend!

description: wolverine, logan howlett as your boyfriend!

pairing: wolvie x you!

|an: my man my man he love me!

- he’s so big and so tall and scruffy and so mmm. that’s your man! and u want everyone to know it

- like i keep mentioning, he is manhandling tf out of you no matter ur size, all the time!

- he thinks it’s soo cute that he can pick you up in his arms with ease and he loves to hear squeal out a “logaaan!” as he throws you on to the bed

- he’s so standoffish and kinda shy when you’re first around each other bc he’s sooo into you and he thinks you’re so cute

- but once he founds out you dig him too ooo girl

- he grows such a big soft spot for you, you’re the only person that ever sees him vulnerable. and he’s such a silly goose.

- he becomes so much more himself, he’s messing with you all the time throwing teasing insults with a smirk on his face just to watch you get all riled up from him.

- he’s also flirting with you 24/7 girl he’s hot and he knows it. sometimes he’s rather crude but you like it. so it’s okay!

“nice shorts you got there little lady” he said with a teasing tone as you walked past him into the kitchen to grab a quick snack.

“god they’re not even that short!” you’d said, pulling them down a bit. they were that short. but hey, they did the job.

and by job, you mean drive logan crazy.

- but once you become his omg…

- you’re his. nobody is touching you and he’ll make sure of that. and it’s pretty hot.

- if anybody even has body language that even slightly seems like they’re into you oh girl….

- they’re becoming a new scratching post!

- not only are you his, but he’s yours. super loyal! and if he can’t get someone off his back, you bet your ass you will!

- you always feel so protected and he always makes you feel so protected because you are! he would do anything for you and to make sure his lover is safe and sound.

- he’s so obsessed with you and he’s not afraid to hide it, he’s not overly affectionate but he is in fact a cuddle monster.

- he’ll hold your hand, or shove a hand in your back pocket, or lend you his jacket to let people know your his, but he saves the good stuff for back at home.

- you’re also his drinking buddy, he isn’t a fan of the tequila like you are, he’ll stick to his whiskey. but he always takes care of you after a night out and makes sure you’re snug as a bug!

- he is the biggest dom ever omg it’s so hard to get him to sub out for you but when he finally does it’s the best night of your life.

- all the noises he makes that you’ve never heard from him are music to your ears.

- a MUNCH. need i say more? thats why he got that damn beard!

- oh and we know those abs are like a pack of buttered up hawaiian rolls and you wanna go for a ride!

- of course he’ll let you! anything for his babygirl, lick em, touch em, fuck em, anything his baby wants. as long as he gets to watch and as long as you feel good.

- he also loves the praise as you ride yourself out on his abs.

- he loves attention and praise, especially when it’s about his figure.

you and logan lie in bed, his figure cradling yours as he slowly felt you slot your head between his craned arm.

“your muscles are so big babe. give me a lil flex.” you stated, holding on to outside of his forearm with your neck between the underside his forearm and bicep.

“you’re crazy bub.” he states, chuckling and lightly flexing his arm, not enough to hurt you but enough to satisfy you and make you giggle as his big muscles squished your cheeks together.

- you’re always touching his muscles, they’re so hot. and hey, he doesn’t work out like that for nothing! he loves it when you cling to his biceps, or run your fingers down his chiseled back.

✨Married life✨

Hugh Jackman x reader

Summary: you and Hugh have been married ever since filming X-men (2000) and now you just finished working on Deadpool and Wolverine and you are doing a interview with Hugh , Ryan and Shawn levy and Hugh gets asked about your marriage and his speech brings you to tears

Warnings: nothing but FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF ❤️❤️❤️

🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀 🎀

You were sitting on the stage with your husband and two of your best friends during an interview and as you were all answering questions about the movie the interviewer asked Ryan about his family and kids and he starts talking about a time you and Hugh went over

“I walked into the house to find these two watching the greatest showman with my kids acting out the scenes and I looked at my girls and I was just thinking you have no idea how lucky you are and they aren’t going to appreciate that in like years from now because they only know them as uncle Hugh and aunty y/n” he replied with a laugh.

You couldn’t help the big smile on your face at the mention of Ryan’s girls. You and Blake had been friends before they had even got together and it was so sweet seeing that love blossom.

You shared glances with Hugh as the interviewer turned towards you. “do you ever babysit the young girls?” He asked you.

“yes actually it is one of my favorite things to do they are such sweet kids it reminds me of when ours were that age and I just get all excited every time I get to see them maybe more than them sometimes”. you said with a light hearted laugh.

Ryan decides to add on to that. “I wouldn’t be too sure sometimes I think they like you more than me!” You all laugh.

the interview goes on with more questions about the movie and ask Shawn some more along with the rest of you but one question really stuck

“Now I have been saving this one for last but I think we all want to know this so, Hugh, what has it been like being married to y/n for 24 years now?”

He looks at you with the softest expression and smile and says. “I don’t think I have ever been more thankful to be married to such a beautiful, kind hearted, strong, loyal, and sensible woman it has been the best years of my life and I wouldn’t give them up for anything the memories and moments we have shared are indescribable I love her with all my heart and I will continue to love her till I die and even when my heart gives out I don’t think I will stop even then” he continues to stare at you with such softness the tears in your eyes start to fall.

your eyes share a promise that as soon as the interview is done you are going to kiss him till you physically can’t. You raise your conjoined hands to you lips and kiss his hand.

“Wow that was beautiful.” The interviewer was in awe at how beautiful your relationship was.

even Ryan and Shawn had tears in their eyes because they have gotten to hear about how much he loves you so many times before.

After you said good bye and got off the stage you dragged Hugh to a private area away from private eyes and brought him into a searing kiss

“I love you so much I don’t know how my heart can physically take it!” You told once you pulled away resting your forehead on his. He smiled and replied “I love you to darling” he pulled you into one more kiss and you melted feeling him smile into it.

A/N: this is my first fic so please no hate love you all

- Natt❤️

Request are open!❤️

I would happily try and make these happen just message me your request and I will try to live up to them

Genres I write:

Fluff only!! I’m terrible at writing anything but that

Characters I write for:

Logan Howlett

Hugh Jackman

Any acotar character

If you want any character other than those add it in and I’ll see if I will be up to do it

With love,

Natt❤️