X-men Wolverine - Tumblr Posts

Can you write Logan SFW and NSFW headcanons of seeing being with a shy s/o please

👉🏻👈🏻

Of course I can my sweet anon 💕 MDNI THERE IS NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!!

Logan Hc's with a Shy S/o

Sfw

He thinks it's the sweetest thing <3

Obviously is more protective of you because you have a hard time standing up for yourself

If your by his side he had a hand on you always, wether it your shoulder hip or his hand in yours

If your overwhelmed by a place/setting and want to leave he will scoop you into his arms and take you wherever you want

He loves to hear your heartbeat speed up, doesn't matter why he just loves seeing you so shy and your face red

If your too shy to order your own food he'll order it for you! He doesn't mind at all, he loves you too much!

When he flirts with you and you go quiet and blush profusely!!! Omg does he think your the cutest thing ever!!

Literally he's just so happy your with him he doesn't even know how you guys got together your shy and sweet and he's the opposite lol

NSFW

"C'mon Sweetheart don't hide your pretty face, lemme see you"

OMGGGGG does he love seeing you so embarrassed when he's deep inside you and whispering dirty things in your ear

When you get really nervous to do any kind of sexual act even when you really want it, but your nerves make you freeze up it drives him crazy

Like you finally build up the courage to give a handjob and your biting your lip and looking at him for reassurance. He tells you to grip harder so you do, but your afraid of hurting him so you loosen your grip. He just had to let out a chuckle "C'mon bub I promise you that it doesn't hurt"

When you give him a blowjob and it's kinda sloppy. Oml the whimpers you let out and the way you look at him make him go feral. He's praising you and encouraging you. After your done he tells you what a good job you've done.

He knows that your so shy and get nervous that he needs to be in control. And he doesn't mind one bit infact he fucking loves it<3

this does not match any of my other content but i don’t care it needs to be said

TRANS MASC WOLVERINE (or any character with regeneration really) CANT HAVE TOP SURGERY BECAUSE THEIR BODY WOULD REVERSE IT‼️‼️ GIVE THEM TITTIES YOU COWARD

Abyss of Time

Summary: In a dystopian future where mutants are hunted, Logan, a 170-year-old warrior, meets Y/n, a 25-year-old human who helps mutants escape persecution. Drawn to her bravery, Logan becomes increasingly possessive as their bond deepens, especially when Y/n’s dedication to her cause puts her in danger. Tensions rise as Y/n grows close to another mutant in their group, testing Logan’s control and their relationship. The story comes into the complexities of love and survival in a world where danger lurks at every turn, and Logan’s possessiveness might be the only thing keeping Y/n alive.

Pairing : Logan Howlett x Female human-reader

Warning : None

The city was a maze of shadows and ruins, a twisted labyrinth where only the desperate dared to tread. Once a symbol of progress and civilization, it had crumbled under the weight of fear and hatred. The streets, once bustling with life, were now desolate, haunted by the echoes of a war that had left no corner untouched.

Y/n darted through the narrow alleyways, her breath coming in sharp bursts as she led a small group of mutants through the darkness. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from fear, but from the adrenaline that had become as familiar to her as breathing. This was her life now—running, hiding, fighting to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The group of mutants following her was a mix of ages and abilities, each one marked by the telltale signs of their genetic differences. In this world, those differences were a death sentence. The government had declared war on mutants, branding them as a threat to humanity, and had unleashed the Sentinels—soulless machines programmed to hunt and kill without mercy.

Y/n had lost count of how many mutants she had helped over the years. She didn’t do it for recognition or reward. She did it because it was right, because someone had to stand against the madness that had consumed the world. And because, deep down, she believed that mutants had as much right to live as anyone else.

As they approached an abandoned warehouse, Y/n slowed her pace, signaling for the group to stop. The warehouse was one of the many safe houses scattered throughout the city, hidden in plain sight among the ruins. It wasn’t much—just four walls and a roof—but it offered temporary refuge from the relentless hunt.

Y/n pushed open the rusted door and stepped inside, her senses on high alert. The interior was dark, lit only by the faint glow of a few battery-operated lamps. She scanned the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and froze when she saw a figure standing in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows.

Logan.

His presence filled the room, an unspoken threat to anyone who dared to cross him. Y/n had heard of him long before they met—stories of a man who had lived for over a century, who had fought in wars that were now the stuff of legend. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of him. Logan was a force of nature, all raw power and barely contained rage, and yet, there was something about him that drew her in, something she couldn’t quite define.

“What are you doing here?” Y/n asked, her voice steady despite the tension thrumming in the air.

Logan stepped into the light, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “Heard you were takin’ a risky route tonight. Thought you could use some backup.”

Y/n bristled at his tone, at the implication that she couldn’t handle herself. “I’ve been doing this long before you showed up. I don’t need your help.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, and you’ve been lucky so far. But luck runs out, kid.”

The endearment, meant to be a casual remark, stung more than Y/n cared to admit. She wasn’t a child, and she resented being treated like one. But she also knew better than to argue with Logan when he was in this mood. Instead, she turned to the group of mutants behind her, their eyes wide with fear and exhaustion.

“Wait here,” she instructed them before turning back to Logan. “We’ll rest here for a bit, then move on.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’ll keep watch.”

Y/n didn’t bother to respond. She knew Logan well enough to understand that he would do what he wanted, regardless of what she said. As she moved to help the mutants settle in, she couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different, that something was lurking just out of sight, waiting to strike.

Time passed in tense silence, the only sounds the occasional rustle of movement or the distant hum of a Sentinel patrol. Y/n tried to rest, but her mind wouldn’t stop racing. She kept replaying Logan’s words in her head, the way he had looked at her, as if he was trying to protect her from something she couldn’t see.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice at her side. “Y/n?”

She turned to see one of the younger mutants, a boy no older than sixteen, standing next to her. His eyes were wide with worry, his hands trembling as he clutched a worn blanket around his shoulders.

“Are we safe here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to reassure him even though she wasn’t entirely sure herself. “For now, yes. We’ll move again soon, just to be safe.”

The boy nodded, but the fear in his eyes didn’t fade. Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Stay close to me, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The boy nodded again, his grip on the blanket tightening. Y/n watched as he returned to the others, huddling close to an older mutant who put a protective arm around him. The sight tugged at her heart. These people had lost so much—family, friends, homes—and yet they still found the strength to keep going. It was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, mutant or not.

Logan’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re good with them.”

Y/n glanced over at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on her.

“They trust you,” he continued, his expression unreadable. “That’s not an easy thing to earn these days.”

Y/n shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “They don’t have much of a choice. It’s either trust me or risk getting caught.”

Logan pushed off the wall and walked over to her, his presence as overwhelming as ever. “It’s more than that, and you know it.”

Y/n looked up at him, her heart skipping another beat at the intensity in his gaze. She had never been good at reading Logan, never quite sure what was going on behind those eyes. But right now, she could see something she hadn’t noticed before—something that made her pulse quicken.

Logan reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so unexpected, so out of character, that Y/n froze, unsure of how to react.

“You’re brave, Y/n,” he said quietly, his voice rough with something she couldn’t name. “But bravery can get you killed if you’re not careful.”

Y/n swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I know the risks.”

Logan’s hand lingered for a moment before he dropped it to his side. “I’m not talkin’ about them. I’m talkin’ about you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched at the words, at the implication behind them. She had always known that Logan was protective, that he had a tendency to take on more than he should. But this felt different. This felt personal.

Before she could respond, a noise outside the warehouse caught their attention. Logan’s head snapped up, his senses immediately on high alert. Y/n tensed, her heart pounding in her chest as she strained to hear what had set him off.

The door to the warehouse creaked open, and Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as a figure stepped inside. For a split second, she feared it was a Sentinel, that their hiding place had been discovered. But then she recognized the newcomer and let out a sigh of relief.

It was Jake, a mutant they had picked up a few weeks ago. He was young, not much older than Y/n, with a cocky grin and a swagger that belied the horrors he had seen. Y/n had grown fond of him, his easy smile and unshakable optimism a rare comfort in a world gone mad.

“Jake,” Y/n breathed, her relief evident in her voice. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Jake grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought I’d check on you guys, see if you needed any help.”

Logan’s expression darkened at the sight of Jake, his posture tensing. Y/n noticed the change immediately, a knot of unease forming in her stomach.

“We’re fine,” Logan said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jake raised an eyebrow at Logan’s response but didn’t back down. “Just thought I’d offer. No harm in that, right?”

Y/n stepped between them, sensing the rising tension. “It’s okay, Jake. We’re just getting ready to move out. You can come with us if you want.”

Jake’s grin widened. “Sure thing. Lead the way, boss.”

Logan’s eyes flashed with something dark and dangerous, but he said nothing as Y/n led the group out of the warehouse. The streets were eerily quiet, the city shrouded in an unnatural silence that set Y/n’s nerves on edge. She kept a close watch on their surroundings, every sense on high alert as they made their way through the shadows.

Logan fell into step beside her, his presence a comforting weight at her side. But she could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely contained anger that simmered just beneath the surface.

As they walked, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to happen, that the fragile peace they had managed to maintain was about to shatter. She glanced over at Logan, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

“Logan,” she began, but he cut her off with a sharp look.

“Stay close,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep an eye on him.”

Y/n followed his gaze and saw Jake a few paces ahead, his posture relaxed, seemingly unaware of the danger around them. She frowned, confused by Logan’s sudden hostility.

“Logan, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he watched Jake. “Just do as I say, Y/n.”

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but something in Logan’s tone made her stop. She nodded, falling silent as they continued through the city, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

It wasn’t until they reached another safe house, this one a dilapidated apartment building on the outskirts of the city, that Y/n finally had a chance to confront Logan. The others had gone inside to rest, leaving them alone in the dimly lit hallway.

“What the hell is your problem?” Y/n demanded, her voice low but fierce. “Why are you acting like this?”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the door where the others had gone, then back to Y/n. “You need to be careful with him.”

“With Jake?” Y/n asked, incredulous. “Why? He’s been nothing but helpful.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his possessive nature rearing its head. “He’s getting too close to you.”

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the accusation. “Too close? Logan, he’s a friend. That’s it.”

Logan stepped closer, his towering presence making Y/n’s heart race. “He’s a distraction, Y/n. And distractions can get you killed.”

Y/ne’s anger flared at his words, at the way he was trying to control her. “You don’t get to decide who I’m friends with, Logan. You don’t get to dictate who I care about.”

Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her closer. His eyes were blazing with a mix of anger and something else—something that made Y/n’s breath catch in her throat.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion. “You have no idea what’s out there, what could happen if you let your guard down.”

Y/n wrenched her arm free, her eyes flashing with defiance. “I don’t need you to protect me, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine on my own.”

Logan’s expression softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something like regret passing through his eyes. “You’re brave, Y/n. But bravery can be a double-edged sword.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to argue, to push him away, but she couldn’t ignore the truth in his words. She had seen too many people die because they had been too brave, too willing to take risks. And yet, she couldn’t let fear control her, couldn’t let Logan’s possessiveness dictate her life.

Before she could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, breaking the tense silence. Y/n turned to see Jake approaching, his easy grin in place, completely unaware of the storm brewing between her and Logan.

“Hey, everything okay?” Jake asked, his eyes flicking between the two of them.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to keep the tension from showing on her face. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just talking strategy.”

Jake nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Cool. Just wanted to check in before we head out again.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture tensing as Jake turned to leave. Y/n could feel the anger radiating off him, the jealousy that was so obvious it practically crackled in the air.

Once Jake was out of earshot, Y/n turned back to Logan, her voice low and firm. “You need to stop this, Logan. Jake is not a threat.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes hard. “He’s more of a threat than you realize.”

Y/n shook her head, frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about Jake. This is about you not being able to control everything around you.”

Logan didn’t respond, his silence only fueling Y/n’s anger. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

“I can take care of myself,” she said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “You don’t have to do it for me.”

Logan’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I know you can, Y/n. But I can’t help it.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. She had never seen Logan like this, so raw and exposed. It was as if the walls he had built around himself were crumbling, leaving him defenseless against the emotions he had tried so hard to suppress.

Without thinking, Y/n reached out, her hand resting on his chest. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, the warmth of his skin seeping into her own.

“Logan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Logan’s hand covered hers, his touch gentle despite the storm raging inside him. “You won’t. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat at the intensity of his words, the promise that lay beneath them. She had always known that Logan was dangerous, that he was capable of doing terrible things in the name of survival. But this was different. This was about something deeper, something that scared her more than any Sentinel ever could. Before she could say anything else, Logan leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a gesture that was both tender and possessive. Y/n’s heart fluttered at the contact, her emotions a tangled mess of fear and longing.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Logan murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “Even if it means keeping you away from everyone else.”

Y/n closed her eyes, the weight of his words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew that Logan’s protectiveness came from a place of love, that he cared for her more deeply than he would ever admit. But she also knew that his possessiveness could be dangerous, that it could drive a wedge between them if she wasn’t careful.

When Logan finally pulled away, Y/n felt the loss of his warmth like a physical blow. She opened her eyes to find him watching her, his expression torn between desire and something darker.

“We should go,” Logan said, his voice strained. “The others are waiting.”

Y/n nodded, her heart heavy with the knowledge that their relationship had just crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. As they made their way back to the group, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, that the fragile bond they had built was about to be tested in ways they couldn’t possibly imagine.

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

The journey to the next safe house was tense, the silence between Y/n and Logan growing heavier with each passing moment. Jake tried to make conversation a few times, but the mood was too dark, the unspoken tension too palpable for any lighthearted banter to cut through.

When they finally reached their destination, a rundown building that had once been a school, Y/n was relieved to see that the other mutants were already inside, safe and sound. But the relief was short-lived. The moment they stepped through the door, they were met with the sight of another mutant standing in the center of the room, his presence radiating a power that made the air hum with electricity.

Y/n recognized him instantly—Erik, a mutant with the ability to control metal. He was a legend among their kind, both revered and feared for his abilities and his ruthless determination to protect mutantkind at all costs.

“Erik,” Y/n greeted him, her voice wary. “What are you doing here?”

Erik’s gaze swept over the group, his expression unreadable. “I heard you were in need of assistance.”

Y/n ’s heart sank at the words, at the implications behind them. Erik’s help always came with a price, one that Y/n wasn’t sure she was willing to pay.

“We’re managing,” she said carefully, glancing at Logan for support.

Logan’s expression was unreadable, but Y/n could sense the tension in him, the way his muscles were coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

Erik’s gaze flicked to Logan, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve made an interesting choice of allies, Y/n.”

Y/n ’s heart skipped a beat at the subtle jab, at the way Erik’s eyes seemed to gleam with something that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Logan’s been a great help,” Y/n said, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Erik’s smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. “I’m sure he has. But his methods... they’re not always in line with what’s best for our kind.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. Y/n could feel the anger radiating off him, the barely contained rage that was so close to the surface.

“We’re doing what we can to survive,” Y/n interjected quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated. “That’s all that matters right now.”

Erik’s gaze shifted back to her, his smile fading into something more serious. “Survival is important, yes. But so is our future, Y/n . And sometimes, to secure that future, we have to make sacrifices.”

Y/n’s stomach churned at the words, at the implications behind them. She knew that Erik was right in some ways, that their survival depended on making tough decisions. But she also knew that Logan wouldn’t take kindly to any suggestion that involved putting her or anyone else at risk.

“I’m not interested in making sacrifices,” Logan growled, his voice low and threatening. “Especially not when it comes to Y/n.”

Erik’s eyes gleamed with a cold amusement. “And there it is—the possessiveness of the Wolverine. It’s almost... predictable.”

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she glanced between the two men, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch. She knew that if something wasn’t done to diffuse the situation, things could get out of hand quickly.

“Erik, we appreciate your concern,” Y/n said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Logan’s arm, trying to calm him down. “But we’re handling things in our own way. Logan’s methods might be unorthodox, but they work. And right now, that’s all that matters.”

Y/n’s gaze lingered on her for a long moment, as if weighing her words. Finally, he nodded, though his expression remained guarded. “Very well, Y/n . But remember—sometimes the only way to truly survive is to let go of the things that hold us back.”

With that, Erik turned and walked out of the room, leaving Y/n and Logan alone in the thick silence that followed his departure. Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, her hand still resting on Logan’s arm.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Logan’s expression softened as he looked down at her, some of the anger fading from his eyes. “I’m fine, Y/n. But we need to be careful. Erik’s not someone to be trusted.”

Y/n nodded, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that Erik’s words had struck a chord with Logan. There was a darkness in his eyes, a shadow that hadn’t been there before, and it made her worry about what the future held for them.

As they rejoined the others, Y/n couldn’t help but feel that things were about to get a lot more complicated. The fragile peace they had managed to maintain was hanging by a thread, and she had a feeling that it wouldn’t take much to tear it apart.

And as she glanced at Logan, she knew that the possessiveness he felt for her, the fierce protectiveness that drove him, could either be their salvation—or their undoing.

Claws of the Heart

Summary: In a world where mutants are nearly extinct, James Logan Howlett, better known as Wolverine, has lived a long and tortured life. Now in his 200s, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he unexpectedly finds a glimmer of light in the form of a young woman in her 30s who lives next door. Their connection is undeniable, but when a man her age starts vying for her attention, Logan's primal instincts kick in. Fueled by jealousy, he does everything he can to win her heart, even if it means battling the demons of his past.

Pairing: Oldman!James Logan Howlett x Neighbor!Fem-human reader Genre: Fluff, Angst

Logan’s boots scuffed against the gravel as he walked down the dusty road toward the small, secluded town he’d been hiding out in for the last few months. His joints ached more than usual—just another reminder that he was no longer the young, invincible Wolverine. Time had done a number on him, but he wasn’t dead yet.

He glanced up at the sound of laughter drifting from the open window of the house next door. He knew that laugh—soft, light, and it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years. A pang of something unfamiliar—hope, maybe? But he’d learned long ago that hope was a dangerous thing.

His gaze landed on you, the woman who’d moved in next door about six months back. You were in your early thirties, full of life, and every time you smiled at him, it knocked him off balance. Not that he’d let you know it.

He grunted to himself as he watched you chat with the guy from two houses down—Tom, or Tim, something like that. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the way he leaned in too close, how you laughed at whatever lame joke he was telling. Logan’s grip tightened on the grocery bag he was carrying. His claws itched to come out, but he pushed down the urge.

Instead, he turned and walked back to his cabin. He wasn’t going to be some lovesick puppy pining over a woman. But damn, it was hard to ignore the jealousy that flared in his chest every time he saw you with that guy.

He tossed the groceries on the counter and opened a beer, taking a long swig as he leaned against the counter, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. You were just a woman, just a neighbor—no reason to get worked up. He tried to convince himself of that, but deep down, he knew it was a lie.

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

Later that evening, Logan found himself sitting on his porch, the sunset casting long shadows across the yard. He heard your door creak open, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you step outside, your gaze landing on him.

“Hey, Logan,” you called out, that sweet smile on your lips as you walked over.

“Evenin’,” Logan replied, trying to sound casual, but his heart was thudding in his chest like he’d just been in a fight.

“Whatcha doin’ out here all alone?” you asked, leaning against the porch railing, too close and not close enough at the same time.

Logan shrugged. “Just enjoyin’ the quiet.”

You smiled and sat down next to him, your leg brushing against his. He stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away. Instead, he took another swig of his beer, trying to focus on anything other than how close you were.

“So, you never really talk about yourself, Logan. What’s your story?” you asked, turning to face him.

Logan glanced at you, those big, curious eyes of yours looking right through him. He grunted, not sure how to respond. “Ain’t much to tell,” he muttered.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Everyone’s got a story.”

“Not mine,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. But you didn’t flinch, just kept looking at him with that soft, patient expression that made him feel like he could actually tell you—if he wasn’t so damn scared of what you’d think.

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

The next few weeks were torture for Logan. Every time he saw you with that guy, the jealousy gnawed at him like a dog with a bone. He started finding excuses to be outside more often, hoping to catch you alone, to steal just a few moments where it was just the two of you. But it seemed like every time he was about to make his move, there was that damn neighbor again, laughing with you, making you smile.

Logan’s patience snapped one afternoon when he saw you sitting on your porch, and that guy—Ted or whatever—leaned in to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan was across the yard before he realized what he was doing.

“Hey,” he barked, his voice rougher than usual.

You and the guy looked up, surprised. Logan felt a grim satisfaction when he saw a flash of discomfort in the guy’s eyes.

“Logan, what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, that concerned expression making his heart squeeze.

“Just thought you might wanna come check out somethin’ I’m workin’ on,” Logan said, forcing his voice to sound casual, though the tension in his muscles betrayed him.

You glanced between the two men, then smiled. “Sure, Logan. I’ll be right there.”

The guy opened his mouth to protest, but Logan shot him a look that could’ve cut steel. Without another word, the guy mumbled something about needing to go and quickly made his exit.

Logan turned back to you, his heart still pounding, but he played it cool. “Sorry ’bout that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You chuckled. “It’s fine, Logan. Ted was just leaving anyway.”

“Yeah, Ted. Good riddance,” Logan muttered under his breath, feeling a surge of triumph that he’d gotten rid of the guy, at least for now.

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

As the days went by, Logan found himself spending more and more time with you. He showed you how to fix things around the house, taught you how to defend yourself—just in case, he said, though he’d be damned if he ever let anything happen to you. And slowly, bit by bit, he started opening up, sharing bits of his past, letting you see the man behind the claws.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you were sitting on the porch steps, Logan beside you. You had just finished telling him about your day, and there was a comfortable silence between you two.

“You know,” you began, glancing over at him, “I’ve never met anyone like you, Logan.”

He grunted in response, not sure what to say. Compliments weren’t something he was used to.

“I mean it,” you continued, turning to face him fully. “You’re… different. In a good way.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice. “You ain’t so bad yourself, kid,” he finally said, the words coming out softer than he intended.

You laughed, the sound sending warmth through him. “I’m not a kid, you know. I’m thirty-four.”

“Still a kid to me,” Logan said with a smirk, but there was no bite to his words.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. “And here I was thinking you might actually ask me out sometime.”

Logan blinked, caught off guard. “You want that?”

“Maybe I do,” you said, leaning in closer, your face inches from his.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He’d faced down some of the most dangerous foes in the world, but the thought of leaning in, of kissing you right here and now, terrified him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. But it also felt right. So he took the plunge.

He leaned in, closing the distance, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, but as you responded, it deepened, becoming something more. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, and Logan could barely believe what had just happened.

“I… uh,” Logan started, but you cut him off with another kiss, and this time, he didn’t hold back.

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After that night, Logan and you were inseparable. But Ted wasn’t done. He kept showing up, trying to win your attention back, and each time, Logan’s jealousy flared hotter. He wasn’t used to fighting for someone like this—most of the time, people just got out of his way. But you were worth it.

One day, Logan found Ted waiting by your front door, holding a bouquet of flowers. Logan’s jaw clenched as he approached, his boots heavy on the gravel. The sight of Ted standing there, grinning like an idiot, made his blood boil.

"Hey, man," Ted greeted, acting casual, like he wasn’t trying to worm his way into your life.

Logan stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing. "What’re you doin’ here?"

Ted shrugged, holding up the flowers. "Just thought I’d surprise her. She’s been working hard, figured she could use a little pick-me-up."

Logan felt his claws itching to pop out, but he kept them in check. He wasn’t going to lose his cool—not in front of you, not over some wannabe Romeo.

“She don’t need your flowers,” Logan growled, taking a step closer. “She’s got all the pick-me-ups she needs.”

Ted laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it. "Come on, Logan. You’re a good guy and all, but she’s not yours. You can’t just scare off every guy who shows interest."

Logan’s eyes flashed with something dark, a reminder that he wasn’t just some regular guy. "You’d be smart to back off, Ted. This ain’t a game."

Before Ted could respond, your front door opened, and you stepped out, your eyes widening when you saw the two men facing off. "Logan? Ted? What’s going on?"

Logan forced himself to relax, stepping back to give you space. "Just havin’ a chat with Ted here."

Ted quickly handed you the flowers, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey, I just wanted to bring these by. Thought they might brighten your day."

You smiled politely, taking the flowers, but your eyes darted to Logan, who was still standing there, tense as a coiled spring. "Thanks, Ted. That’s sweet of you."

Ted beamed, but his smile faltered when he saw the way you looked at Logan. "Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around."

You nodded, and as Ted walked away, you turned to Logan, who was still glaring after him. "Logan, what was that about?"

Logan grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nothin’. Just don’t like the way he’s always hangin’ around."

You sighed, stepping closer to him, and placing a hand on his arm. "Logan, you don’t have to worry about Ted. I’m not interested in him like that."

Logan’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You sure about that? ‘Cause it looks like he’s gonna keep tryin’."

You smiled, squeezing his arm. "I’m sure. You’re the one I want to be with."

Logan’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He wasn’t used to this—this feeling of being wanted, of being chosen. It was new and terrifying, but he couldn’t deny that it made him feel something he hadn’t in a long time.

He nodded, his voice gruff but sincere. "I’ll keep that in mind."

You leaned in, kissing him softly on the cheek, and Logan felt his resolve strengthen. He wasn’t going to let some punk like Ted get between you two. He’d fight for you, tooth and claw, if he had to.

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

As the weeks passed, the tension between Logan and Ted simmered just below the surface. Ted still tried to worm his way into your life, showing up at odd hours, bringing little gifts, and always flashing that charming smile. But every time, Logan was there, watching, waiting, his jealousy growing stronger by the day.

You could sense the turmoil in Logan, even if he tried to hide it. He was rough around the edges, but you knew there was more to him than the gruff exterior he showed the world. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you—it was all so careful, so deliberate, like he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

One evening, as a summer storm raged outside, you found Logan sitting on your porch, his eyes lost in the rain. You stepped outside, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, and sat down beside him.

"Babe," you said softly, placing a hand on his knee. "What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?"

Logan didn’t look at you right away. He stared out into the storm, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. "Just thinkin’," he finally muttered, his voice barely audible over the rain.

"About Ted?" you asked, knowing the answer.

Logan grunted in response, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "’Bout a lot of things."

You moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "Talk to me, babe. I can’t help if you keep everything bottled up."

Logan sighed, his rough exterior cracking just a bit. "I don’t like him hangin’ around you, okay? Every time I see him, it’s like this… this beast inside me just wants to tear him apart."

You blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his words. "Logan…"

He turned to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "I’ve done a lotta things in my life I ain’t proud of. Seen things, lost people… I don’t want to lose you, too. But every time I see you with him, it’s like… I dunno, like I’m gonna lose somethin’ important. And it scares the hell outta me."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his stubbled cheeks. "You’re not gonna lose me, babe. I’m here, and I’m not goin’ anywhere. But you gotta trust me, okay? Trust that I know what I want."

Logan swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "I trust you, darlin’. It’s me I don’t trust."

You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him, and Logan melted into the touch, the storm outside forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you. For the first time in years, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

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

The next day, Logan was out back, chopping wood to burn off some of the restless energy that had been plaguing him. The sound of the axe hitting the wood was rhythmic, almost meditative, but his thoughts were anything but calm.

Ted showed up again, this time strolling right into Logan’s yard like he owned the place. Logan didn’t stop what he was doing, but he didn’t have to—Ted came right up to him, hands shoved in his pockets, a cocky smirk on his face.

"Hey, Logan," Ted said, his tone too casual for Logan’s liking. "We need to talk."

Logan paused mid-swing, the axe hovering in the air. "’Bout what?"

"About her," Ted replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Look, man, I get it. You’ve got this whole rough, mysterious vibe going on, but let’s be real—how long do you think you can keep her interested? She’s young, full of life. You… well, you’re not exactly a spring chicken, are you?"

Logan’s grip tightened on the axe handle, his knuckles turning white. He lowered the axe slowly, turning to face Ted fully. "You tryin’ to start somethin’, kid?"

Ted held up his hands in mock surrender. "Not at all. I’m just sayin’, maybe it’s time you stepped aside. Let her have a shot at something real, something that’s not tied down by… whatever you got goin’ on."

Logan’s claws itched to come out, but he held them back, forcing himself to stay calm. "You don’t know a damn thing about me, or what she wants."

"Maybe not," Ted admitted, his smirk widening. "But I know what I see. And what I see is a man who’s past his prime, holding onto something he can’t keep."

Logan took a step forward, his eyes darkening with barely controlled rage. "You keep pushin’, and you’ll see just how much fight I got left in me."

Ted’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Look, I’m not here to fight. I’m here to give you a choice—step aside, or I’ll make sure you regret not doing it."

Logan’s lips curled into a snarl, his claws itching to break free, but he knew better. As much as he wanted to tear Ted apart, he knew that wasn’t the answer. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing the rage back down. "You ever come near her again, I won’t be responsible for what happens next."

Ted’s eyes flashed with something—fear, maybe—but he quickly masked it with a cocky grin. "We’ll see about that, old man."

With that, Ted turned and walked away, leaving Logan standing there, his heart pounding with anger and frustration. He knew he had to do something, but the question was, how far was he willing to go to keep you safe?

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

That evening, Logan found you sitting on your porch, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a warm light over your face. You smiled when you saw him, but your smile faltered slightly when you noticed the tension in his eyes. Logan sat down beside you, his usual stoic expression replaced by something deeper, more troubled. You could tell he had something on his mind.

"Babe," you began softly, reaching for his hand. "What’s wrong? You’ve been distant all day."

Logan took a deep breath, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. He wasn’t sure how to start, but he knew he couldn’t keep this from you any longer. "Ted came by earlier," he said, his voice low.

You frowned, concern knitting your brows together. "What did he want?"

Logan’s jaw tightened as he recalled the conversation. "He thinks I should step aside. That I’m not what you need."

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that. "Step aside? Babe, that’s ridiculous. What did you say?"

Logan looked away, staring out at the horizon. "I told him to back off. But… part of me wonders if he’s right."

You were taken aback by his words. "Babe, how can you even think that? You’re everything I need. You’re strong, caring, and… you make me feel safe."

Logan shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping him. "Safe, huh? I’m anything but safe. I got a past full of blood and regret. I’m not the kind of guy who’s good for someone like you."

You squeezed his hand tighter, not willing to let him pull away. "I don’t care about your past, Logan. I care about who you are now, and who you are to me. Ted doesn’t know you—he doesn’t know us. And I’m not going to let him or anyone else decide what’s right for me."

Logan turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was the sincerity in your gaze, the unwavering belief that he was worth fighting for. It stirred something deep within him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

"But what if he’s right?" Logan asked, his voice barely a whisper. "What if I’m just foolin’ myself, thinking I can have somethin’ good without it all fallin’ apart?"

You leaned in closer, your other hand coming up to cradle his face. "Logan, life isn’t about being perfect or having all the answers. It’s about making choices, and I’ve chosen you. I want to be with you, and I’m not afraid of what that means. We’ll figure it out together, no matter what."

Logan’s breath hitched as he felt the weight of your words. It wasn’t just about Ted, or his past, or the fears that haunted him. It was about trust—trusting you, trusting himself, and trusting that maybe, just maybe, he could have something good for once in his life.

He nodded slowly, his eyes softening as he leaned his forehead against yours. "I don’t deserve you, but I’m not gonna let you go."

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Logan felt a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just surviving—he was living.

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

The next day, you decided it was time to put an end to Ted’s advances once and for all. You couldn’t let him continue to disrupt the peace you and Logan had fought so hard to build. You called Ted, asking him to meet you at a local café, a public place where you could have a conversation without the threat of things getting out of hand.

Ted arrived, all smiles, clearly thinking that you’d finally come to your senses. But when he saw the serious expression on your face, his grin faltered.

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”

You didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “Ted, we need to talk about this… whatever this is.”

Ted sat down across from you, his expression growing more serious. “Okay, I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I appreciate the attention, I do. But this has to stop. I’m with Logan, and that’s not going to change.”

Ted’s eyes darkened slightly, but he kept his tone light. “You don’t have to be. You deserve better, someone who can give you a normal life. Logan… he’s dangerous.”

You shook your head, not letting his words shake you. “Logan isn’t dangerous to me. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t change who he is—who he is to me. I care about him, Ted. This isn’t something you can just talk me out of.”

Ted leaned forward, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. “But why him? You could have anyone, someone who can give you a future, a family…”

You sighed, feeling a pang of pity for Ted. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t. “Ted, you’re a good guy, but you’re not the one I want. I’m sorry if that hurts, but it’s the truth.”

Ted’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “So that’s it? You’re just going to throw away a chance at something real for a guy like him?”

You stood up, your decision firm. “I’ve already got something real, Ted. And I’m not going to throw it away.”

Ted watched as you turned to leave, a storm of emotions playing across his face. But you didn’t look back. You had made your choice, and there was no room for doubt.

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

When you returned home, Logan was waiting for you, a mix of anxiety and hope in his eyes. “How’d it go?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s over. I told him I’m with you, and that’s not going to change.”

Logan exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. “You sure he got the message?”

You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure. He won’t bother us again.”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, holding you close. “Thank you, darlin’. For choosing me.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I didn’t just choose you, Logan. I chose us. And I’m not letting go.”

Logan leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, tender, and full of all the things he couldn’t put into words. In that moment, all the doubts, the fears, the what-ifs—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the life you were building together.

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

Years passed, and the love between you and Logan only grew stronger. You faced challenges together, fought battles side by side, and through it all, you never wavered in your commitment to one another. Logan learned to let go of the guilt and pain that had haunted him for so long, finding peace in the life you shared.

And as you sat together on your porch, watching the sunset, you knew that this was where you were meant to be. With Logan by your side, you felt complete, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would face it together.

Because in the end, love wasn’t about finding someone who was perfect. It was about finding someone who made you feel like you were worth fighting for—someone who made you feel alive. And that was exactly what you had found in Logan. You leaned into Logan’s embrace, feeling his warmth surround you. And in that moment, you knew that you had found a love that would endure, a love that would last a lifetime.

Marked By Claws

Summary: Logan “Wolverine” Howlett had fought in wars, faced down enemies, and lived through more lifetimes than most could imagine. He was used to being alone. Until she came along—a regular human, fragile but captivating. Logan tried to fight it, convincing himself it was just instinct to protect someone so vulnerable. But soon, that protectiveness turned into something darker, something possessive.

Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader

Genre              : Fluff, Angst

The rain poured down in sheets outside the bar, casting a dreary haze over the darkened streets. Logan sat in his usual spot, hunched over his glass of whiskey, but his mind wasn’t on the drink. His thoughts were elsewhere—on her. The woman he couldn’t shake from his head no matter how hard he tried. The one he watched every night as she walked home from work.

It started innocently enough, or at least that’s what he told himself. She had an air about her, something that drew him in, something different from the countless others who passed through this crumbling town. But it wasn’t her scent or her face that haunted him—no, it was something deeper, something in the way she moved, the way she existed in a world that would chew her up if given the chance.

Logan’s jaw tightened as he stared out the rain-streaked window. She was late tonight. That wasn’t like her. She always passed by around this time, her coat pulled tight against the wind, her pace brisk. But tonight? Nothing.

The rain tapped harder against the glass as if mocking his rising tension.

Where the hell is she?

Logan grunted under his breath, shaking off the thought. He had no right to care. Not really. She was just some human. Fragile. Helpless. The kind that needed watching in a world like this. That’s all it was. He was just keeping an eye out.

Yeah. That’s what he told himself.

His fingers twitched, the edge of his claws tingling beneath his skin.

Relax, Logan.

But he couldn’t. Not with her out there somewhere, vulnerable and exposed. He drained the last of his drink, pushing back the itch of frustration. His mind wandered again, replaying the first time he saw her. She had been crossing the street in a hurry, nearly getting clipped by some jackass in a truck. Logan had stepped out of the bar just in time to see her stumble back to the curb, a look of startled relief washing over her face. He hadn’t thought much of it at first. Hell, people nearly got themselves killed every day in this shitty town. But something about her stuck with him. Maybe it was the way she barely reacted, like she was used to near-misses. Or maybe it was the way she held herself—quiet, careful, like someone who had learned how to stay invisible in a dangerous world. Whatever it was, Logan had noticed her. And he hadn’t stopped noticing her since.

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

You were later than usual tonight, your shoes splashing in the puddles as you hurried down the familiar street. Work had been hell, dragging on longer than it should have, and now you were paying the price by walking home in the pouring rain. The chill in the air cut through your coat, making you shiver as you pulled it tighter around yourself.

The bar you passed every night was still open, the neon sign flickering in the downpour. You barely glanced at it as you walked by, too focused on getting home and out of the wet. You didn’t notice the eyes watching you from the shadows.

Logan leaned against the brick wall outside the bar, his hands stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He had already spotted you the moment you turned the corner, his gaze following your every move. You were soaked, shivering, clearly exhausted from your day. His instincts told him to step forward, to offer help. But he stayed where he was, watching. Always watching.

You were close now, close enough that he could catch the faint scent of your skin beneath the rain. His hand twitched, wanting to reach out, wanting to touch.

“Evenin’,” he muttered, voice low and rough.

You jumped at the sound, your wide eyes snapping to his in surprise. “Oh… I didn’t see you there.”

Logan shrugged, pushing himself off the wall. He took a drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing dimly in the gloom. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

You offered him a faint smile, though the tension in your shoulders told him you were still wary. Smart girl. In a place like this, you couldn’t afford not to be.

“I’ve seen you around,” you said, awkwardly breaking the silence. “You’re always at the bar, right?”

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Guess you could say it’s my second home.”

He watched you carefully, noting the way your eyes darted toward the road, clearly eager to keep moving. The rain was coming down harder now, drenching your clothes. You shivered again, and Logan’s brow furrowed.

“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice gruffer than he intended.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden concern. “Oh, yeah… it’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“Don’t look fine,” Logan muttered, stepping closer before he could stop himself. His eyes flickered down the street. “You gotta walk far?”

“Just a few more blocks,” you replied, taking a step back instinctively. “I’ll be fine.”

Fine. That word again. You weren’t fine. You didn’t have a clue how dangerous it was out here. And that guy from the other night—the one who’d been walking with you, laughing, trying to get close—that asshole didn’t sit right with Logan. Guys like him didn’t just walk women home out of the goodness of their hearts. He could smell the bullshit from a mile away.

Logan’s jaw clenched. “You alone tonight?”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh… yeah. Why?”

He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That guy from before. The one with the umbrella.”

“Oh, Mike?” you said, realizing who he was talking about. “He’s just a coworker.”

Logan grunted, his gaze sharp. “Coworker, huh? He’s lookin’ for more than that, trust me.”

You laughed softly, though there was an edge of nervousness in it. “No, it’s not like that. He’s harmless.”

Logan’s eyes darkened. Harmless. He’d heard that line before. It was never harmless. Guys like Mike? They took what they wanted, one way or another.

“Listen,” he said, his voice dropping lower, “guys like him, they don’t give a shit about bein’ nice. They just want somethin’ from ya. You should be more careful.”

You frowned, clearly taken aback by his intensity. “I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself.”

Logan’s grip on his cigarette tightened, the ember flaring brightly before he flicked it to the ground, grinding it under his boot. He wanted to argue, to tell you how wrong you were, how naïve. But he held back. Barely.

“Yeah, well, just… watch yourself,” he muttered, shoving his hands back into his pockets.

You nodded slowly, still unsure what to make of him. “I will. Thanks, Logan.”

Hearing his name from your lips sent a strange jolt through him, something primal, something possessive. He watched as you turned to leave, disappearing into the rain once again. The pull was stronger now. Each time he saw you, each time you spoke, it tightened like a noose around his mind.

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

Days passed, and Logan found himself drifting closer to you without meaning to. He’d catch himself waiting by the bar, his eyes scanning the street, searching for that familiar form. Every time you walked by, something inside him shifted, grew darker. He knew he was crossing a line, but the beast in him didn’t care. You were his to protect, to watch over. Even if you didn’t know it.

He trailed you one night, his footsteps silent as he kept to the shadows. You were walking home, same route, same hurried pace. But this time, something was off. You were on edge, glancing over your shoulder every few steps. Someone had spooked you.

Logan’s senses kicked into high gear. His nostrils flared, picking up the scent of someone else. Someone nearby.

His claws itched beneath his skin, ready to tear into anyone who thought they could mess with you. He didn’t care if it was Mike or some other lowlife. Whoever it was, they were gonna pay.

He stayed a few steps behind, watching as you quickened your pace, clearly feeling the unease. But before he could make a move, you stopped, turning suddenly as if sensing him.

Your eyes locked with his, wide and startled.

“Logan?”

Shit. He hadn’t meant for you to see him. But there was no going back now.

“Hey,” he said, stepping out of the shadows, his voice casual despite the tension crackling in the air.

You stared at him, clearly unsettled. “Were you… following me?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “Nah. Just keepin’ an eye out.”

“Why?”

His gaze darkened, the protective edge creeping back into his voice. “Because you need it.”

You stood there, staring at him like you didn’t know whether to be pissed off or scared. Logan could tell. It was written all over your face—the way your brows furrowed, lips pressed tight, trying to make sense of him. Of why a man like him would care about a woman like you. Hell, even he couldn’t explain it fully.

“Look,” you said, exhaling a shaky breath, “I don’t need a babysitter, Logan. I can handle myself.”

“Handle yourself?” Logan scoffed, stepping closer, his boots splashing through the puddles. “You’ve got no clue what’s lurkin’ out there. This ain’t about handlein’ yourself—it’s about survivin’.” His voice was gravelly, laced with the kind of warning that only someone who’d lived through hell could deliver.

You bristled, clearly not in the mood for whatever this was. “Surviving? You make it sound like I’m living in some warzone.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You are, sweetheart. Just ‘cause you don’t see the bullets flyin’ don’t mean they ain’t there.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting that kind of response. “What are you talking about? This is just—”

“Just what?” Logan interrupted, his voice gruffer now, his temper flaring. “You think people in this town are all playin’ nice? You think that guy, Mike, your little ‘coworker,’ ain’t lookin’ to get somethin’ outta you?”

You clenched your fists, the frustration rising. “He’s not like that. Not everyone is out to hurt me, Logan.”

He let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You’re so damn blind, y’know that? Guys like him? They don’t just walk you home outta the kindness of their hearts.”

You took a step back, your gaze flickering with uncertainty. “You don’t know him.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he took another step closer, his presence towering over you. “I don’t need to know him. I know his type.”

There was silence for a moment, just the sound of rain and your uneven breathing. You looked torn—part of you angry, part of you unsure, like maybe, deep down, some part of you knew Logan was right.

But you wouldn’t admit it.

“I’m going home,” you muttered, turning to leave, your voice shaking a little. “I don’t need this right now.”

Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist—not hard, but enough to make you stop in your tracks. He felt the heat of your pulse under his fingers, quick and erratic. His grip was firm, but he kept his claws in check, just barely. He could feel the beast inside him gnashing its teeth, wanting to drag you back, to keep you right there where he could watch you. Protect you.

“Logan,” you warned, your voice low. “Let go.”

He didn’t. Not right away. He couldn’t.

For a second, neither of you moved. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something—he didn’t even know what. Maybe he was looking for a reason to stop. Maybe he was looking for permission.

But all he found was your fear. That familiar mix of terror and curiosity. And God help him, it did something to him. Made him want to pull you closer, claim you, make sure no one else ever laid a hand on you. He could protect you better than anyone. He needed to.

But then your voice broke through his haze. “Logan,” you whispered, softer this time. “Please. Let go.”

That word—please—it cut through him in a way he didn’t expect. He blinked, his grip loosening until you slipped free, taking a step back as if putting distance between the two of you could fix whatever the hell this was.

“Go home,” Logan muttered, turning away, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets to keep from grabbing you again. “Get inside before someone else finds you out here.”

You hesitated, standing there in the rain for a moment longer, watching him. Logan could feel your eyes on him, but he didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. He was too close to snapping. Too close to letting the obsession inside him spill out.

Finally, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “Goodnight, Logan.”

And then you were gone, your footsteps retreating into the distance, leaving Logan alone in the rain with nothing but his thoughts and the dark, gnawing hunger that came with them.

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

Logan didn’t follow you home that night. He stayed rooted where you’d left him, letting the rain wash over him until it felt like it could scrub the wild thoughts from his mind. But it didn’t. Nothing could.

She’ll come around, he told himself. She has to.

But days passed, and you didn’t. You didn’t pass by the bar as often, didn’t give him more than a quick nod or an awkward wave when you did. He knew you were avoiding him, and that only made the itch under his skin worse. He wasn’t stupid—he knew he’d scared you. Hell, maybe that was for the best. Maybe if you stayed away, he wouldn’t have to deal with this… this thing inside him.

Except you didn’t stay away, not completely. And Logan couldn’t help but keep tabs on you.

It was a couple of weeks later when things started going south. He noticed it one night while he was out on a run—your apartment lights were on later than usual, shadows moving across the windows. At first, he thought you had someone over. Mike, maybe? His gut twisted at the idea, a low growl rumbling in his throat. But then, he caught a different scent. One that didn’t sit right with him.

Fear.

His instincts flared to life, sharper than before, and without thinking, Logan was on the move, crossing the streets with a speed that shouldn’t have been possible for a guy his size. He slipped into the alley beside your building, the rain-soaked bricks gleaming under the streetlights. He crouched low, his ears straining to hear anything unusual.

And then he caught it. A muffled shout. Your voice.

Logan didn’t even think. His claws slid out with a metallic snikt, and in seconds, he was scaling the fire escape, his senses guiding him straight to your apartment. The window was cracked open, just enough for him to push it aside and slip inside without making a sound.

The scene in front of him made his blood boil.

You were backed up against the wall, your hands out in front of you, trying to ward off a man who was way too close. Mike. Of course it was fucking Mike. He was drunk, that much was obvious. His hands were on you, grabbing at your arms, slurring something Logan couldn’t make out over the roar of rage in his ears.

“C’mon, babe,” Mike was muttering, leaning in way too close for comfort. “Don’t be like that…”

You tried to push him away, but he wasn’t having it. He grabbed your wrist hard, yanking you back toward him. That was all Logan needed to see.

Before Mike could even react, Logan was on him, grabbing the bastard by the collar and throwing him across the room like he weighed nothing. Mike slammed into the wall with a sickening thud, his eyes going wide as he tried to process what just happened.

“What the fuck?!” Mike gasped, clutching his head in pain as he tried to scramble to his feet.

Logan didn’t give him the chance. He was across the room in an instant, his claws gleaming in the dim light as he stood over Mike, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest. “Touch her again, and I’ll rip you apart,” Logan snarled, his voice barely human.

Mike’s face paled, his eyes darting between Logan’s claws and the murderous look on his face. “Jesus, man! I didn’t—”

“Get. Out,” Logan growled, his claws twitching dangerously close to Mike’s face.

Mike didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes wide with terror as he bolted out the door, stumbling down the hallway. Logan didn’t watch him go. His attention was on you now.

You were standing there, your back pressed against the wall, your breathing shallow and uneven. Your eyes were wide with shock, staring at Logan like you didn’t quite know what to make of him. Like maybe, for the first time, you were seeing the monster everyone warned you about.

Logan stepped toward you, his claws still out, his breathing heavy. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, the beast inside still roaring for blood, still wanting to tear Mike apart for even daring to touch you.

But then he saw the way you were looking at him—the fear in your eyes, the trembling in your hands—and it stopped him cold.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, trying to pull himself back. “You okay?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t convincing. You were still in shock, still processing everything that had just happened.

“I didn’t mean to—” Logan started, but he cut himself off. What could he even say? He hadn’t meant to scare you, hadn’t meant to make things worse. But that was the thing about him. He always made things worse.

You took a shaky breath, your eyes flickering down to his claws, still extended, still sharp. “Logan…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Your claws…”

Logan blinked, realizing he hadn’t retracted them yet. With a grunt, he forced the metal back into his hands, the familiar sting reminding him of what he was. A monster. Something that didn’t belong in your world.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, stepping back, giving you space. “I didn’t mean to—”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “No… no, I’m glad you were here. He… he wouldn’t stop. I didn’t know what to do.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “You don’t ever have to deal with that. Not as long as I’m around.”

You looked at him then, really looked at him, like maybe you were starting to understand. Like maybe you were starting to see him for what he really was—someone who’d do anything to protect you, no matter how ugly it got.

And that was dangerous.

But for now, you were grateful. For now, you needed him.

And for Logan, that was enough.

You were still shaking, your breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Logan could hear it, the way your heart was racing, the fear still pulsing under your skin. But there was something else now—something different in the way you looked at him. Not just fear.

Trust.

And that was enough to make him stay, to not walk away from this mess he’d created. He could’ve left—should’ve left. But instead, he lingered in your apartment, watching you try to catch your breath, your eyes darting from him to the door where Mike had fled.

“I’m sorry,” you finally whispered, rubbing your arms like you were trying to shake off the whole thing. “I didn’t think—”

“Don’t,” Logan interrupted, his voice gruff but softer than usual. “Don’t apologize for that piece of shit.”

You looked up at him, your eyes still wide, searching his face. “I just… I thought he was a friend. You know? I didn’t think he’d…”

Logan’s jaw tightened again, and he fought the urge to go after Mike, to track him down and finish what he’d started. But that wouldn’t help you right now. That’d only make things worse.

“He’s not your friend,” Logan muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Guys like him? They’re never just friends.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, staring at the ground like you didn’t want to admit he was right. Like maybe you’d known all along but didn’t want to believe it.

“I feel like an idiot,” you said finally, a shaky laugh escaping your lips. “God, I feel so fucking stupid.”

Logan shook his head. “You’re not stupid. You’re just… too damn trusting.”

You looked up at him again, a small, bitter smile playing on your lips. “That a bad thing?”

“For most people? Yeah. For you? It’s gonna get you hurt.”

There it was—the bluntness, the gruff honesty that Logan couldn’t turn off, no matter how hard he tried. And even though you looked like you wanted to argue with him, you didn’t. You just nodded, like you understood. Like maybe you were starting to see the world the way he did.

Logan let out a slow breath, running a hand through his damp hair, trying to shake off the tension that still coiled tight in his muscles. He wanted to stay close, make sure you were safe, but he didn’t want to scare you any more than he already had.

“I’ll stay outta your way,” Logan muttered, moving toward the window he’d come in through. “Just… lock the door after me, alright?”

You blinked, surprised. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, his back to you now, already halfway through the window. “I ain’t gonna crowd you.”

Before you could say anything, he was gone, slipping out into the night like he hadn’t just saved you from a man who could’ve hurt you. Like he hadn’t just shown you a side of him you weren’t sure how to feel about.

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

The next few days passed in a strange blur. You went back to work, went about your life, but things didn’t feel the same. You kept looking over your shoulder, half-expecting Mike to show up again, but he didn’t. Logan had taken care of that.

You hadn’t seen Logan since that night, though you’d felt his presence more than once. You couldn’t explain it, but you just knew he was around, watching from the shadows, keeping an eye on you. And part of you should’ve been creeped out by that—should’ve wanted him to back off.

But you didn’t.

In fact, it made you feel… safe. Safer than you had in a long time.

Which was why, on the third night after the incident, you found yourself standing outside the bar where Logan usually hung around, staring at the door like an idiot, wondering why the hell you were even here. You hadn’t planned on seeing him again, hadn’t planned on… whatever this was. But something in you pulled you here.

Maybe you just wanted to say thanks. Maybe you just needed to know he was still watching over you.

With a sigh, you pushed the door open and stepped inside. The smell of beer and cigarettes hit you immediately, the dim lighting casting shadows over the bar, the low murmur of conversation filling the room. And there he was, sitting at the end of the bar, a beer in front of him, looking like he hadn’t moved since the last time you saw him.

You hesitated for a moment, watching him from the door. He hadn’t noticed you yet—at least, you didn’t think he had. But then, without even turning his head, he spoke.

“Gonna stand there all night, or you gonna come over here?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Of course, he’d sensed you. Logan wasn’t the kind of guy you could sneak up on.

Taking a deep breath, you walked over to him, slipping onto the barstool beside him. He didn’t look at you, just kept his eyes on his beer, his jaw tight like he was waiting for you to speak first.

“You always know when someone’s watching you?” you asked, your voice light, trying to break the tension.

Logan let out a low grunt. “Call it a survival skill.”

You chuckled softly, though the sound felt a little forced. “Guess I don’t have that skill. Not like you.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t need it.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of the conversation. You hadn’t really thought about what you’d say when you came here. Now, sitting next to him, you realized you didn’t just want to thank him—you wanted to understand him. You wanted to know why he felt so… protective of you. Why he’d risked so much.

“Why are you doing this, Logan?” you asked quietly, your eyes on him, searching for answers. “Why do you care so much?”

He didn’t answer right away. He took a slow sip of his beer, his eyes distant, like he was lost in thought. Then, after what felt like forever, he spoke.

“You ever have somethin’ you just… couldn’t explain?” he muttered, his voice low, rough. “Somethin’ that got under your skin and stayed there?”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

Logan finally turned to look at you, his eyes dark, intense. “That’s what you are, darlin’. You’re under my skin.”

The air between you felt heavy, charged with something neither of you could quite name. You stared at him, your heart racing, unsure of what to say. What did he even mean by that? Was it obsession? Protection? Something else entirely?

“You’re just… under my skin,” he repeated, his voice softer this time, like he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear it. “And I can’t shake it.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. There was something raw in his voice, something vulnerable that you hadn’t expected from a man like him. It wasn’t just about protection. It was more than that.

And that scared you. But it also drew you in.

“Logan,” you whispered, not even sure what you were going to say.

But before you could finish, he stood up, draining the last of his beer and setting the bottle down on the bar with a heavy thud.

“Forget it,” he muttered, his voice gruff again. “I shouldn’t have said nothin’.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift. “Wait, what? Logan—”

But he was already walking away, heading for the door like he couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Like he was running from something.

From you.

You stared after him, your mind racing, your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected any of this. But now that you knew—now that you understood what was going on in his head—you weren’t sure how to feel.

But one thing was for sure: Logan wasn’t just some protector. He wasn’t just looking out for you out of some sense of duty or responsibility.

He was obsessed.

And now, you had to figure out what the hell you were going to do about it.

You sat there in the bar, still processing Logan’s words, the way he had looked at you—like you were something he couldn’t escape, something tangled up in his very being. The intensity of it left you breathless. And the way he had just walked out? Like he was scared? That didn’t sit right.

Without thinking, you stood up and followed him, pushing through the bar’s door into the cool night air. The street was quiet, lit by the dim glow of streetlights, and you could see him walking away, shoulders hunched, his pace faster than usual, like he couldn’t wait to disappear into the shadows.

“Logan!” you called out, your voice cutting through the silence.

He stopped but didn’t turn around. For a moment, you thought he might just keep walking, leaving you standing there. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed and turned to face you, his expression hard to read.

“What do you want, kid?” he grumbled, though his tone was softer now, not as sharp as before.

You swallowed, your nerves buzzing. “I want to know what the hell you meant back there.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” you interrupted, stepping closer. “I’m not gonna forget it. You said I’m under your skin, and then you just walked out. That’s not fair, Logan.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable. It was like he was struggling, torn between pushing you away and pulling you closer. And for the first time, you realized how hard this was for him. He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling like this.

“I ain’t good for you,” he muttered, his voice rough. “You deserve better than… this.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Better than what? Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count? Someone who cares about me? Logan, I’m not scared of you. Not after everything.”

He let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “You should be. You don’t know what it’s like—what I’m like. I can’t give you a normal life. Hell, I don’t even know what normal looks like anymore.”

You stepped closer, your heart pounding, but you didn’t back down. You weren’t scared. Not of him. Not of whatever this was between you two.

“I don’t want normal,” you said softly, your eyes locked on his. “I want you.”

That stopped him in his tracks. Logan froze, his eyes widening just a fraction, like he hadn’t expected that. Like he didn’t know how to process what you were saying.

“You don’t know what you’re sayin',” he muttered, but there was no conviction behind his words now. “I’m a fuckin’ mess, darlin'.”

You smiled a little, despite the tension. “We’re all a mess, Logan. But that doesn’t mean you get to shut me out.”

There was a beat of silence between you, the night air heavy with unsaid things. And then, before you knew what was happening, Logan closed the distance between you in two strides, his hands gripping your arms as he pulled you closer, his eyes burning with that same intensity that had left you breathless in the bar.

“You don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” he growled, his breath warm against your skin, his face inches from yours. “You don’t know what this is.”

“Then show me,” you whispered, your heart hammering in your chest. “Show me, Logan.”

For a moment, you thought he might pull away again, that he might let go and walk off into the night. But then, with a low, frustrated groan, he closed the gap between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was rough, desperate, and full of everything he’d been holding back.

You gasped against his mouth, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands clutching his jacket as you kissed him back, feeling the heat of him, the raw power that simmered just beneath his skin. His hands slid from your arms to your waist, pulling you even closer, like he couldn’t stand the space between you, like he needed you as much as you needed him.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding back, trying to be gentle even though you could tell he didn’t want to be. His claws didn’t come out this time, but you could feel the roughness in the way he touched you, like he was afraid he might break you.

But you weren’t afraid.

“Logan,” you whispered against his lips, your voice soft but sure. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That seemed to snap something in him. He kissed you harder, his hands gripping you tight as he backed you up against the brick wall of the alley, his body pressed against yours, trapping you there in the best way possible. It was intense, overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop. You’d never felt more alive, more wanted, than you did in that moment.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, trailing rough, heated kisses along your skin, his breath ragged, like he was barely holding himself together. And maybe he wasn’t. Maybe this was as close to falling apart as Logan ever got.

But you didn’t care. You wanted all of it—all of him.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled against your neck, his voice rough, desperate. “Tell me to walk away, ‘cause I don’t think I can.”

You shook your head, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. “I’m not telling you to stop. I don’t want you to stop.”

Logan let out a low, almost pained sound, his hands gripping your hips as he kissed you again, slower this time, but just as intense. There was no hesitation now, no pulling back. Just him and you, wrapped up in each other like nothing else mattered.

The world outside, the fear, the danger—it all faded away. It was just Logan, his touch, his heat, the way he made you feel safe and alive all at once.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, you could feel the shift between you. Something had changed—something deep and unspoken, but undeniable.

“You sure about this?” Logan asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You smiled, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your body still pressed against his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it. But he didn’t pull away. He didn’t leave.

Instead, he kissed you again, slower this time, softer. And for the first time, he let himself believe it. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a mistake.

The Great Outdoors

Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated.

Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader

Genre              : Fluff

The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.

This was going to be interesting.

“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”

Oh, boy.

You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.

He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.

“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.

“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.

Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.

“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”

He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.

“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”

After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?

By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.

“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”

Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”

You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”

He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.

“Logan, that’s not how—”

Whoosh!

The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.

“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”

“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”

Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.

After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.

You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”

“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”

He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”

“Oh, this oughta be good.”

Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”

“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”

You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”

Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”

You shook your head, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”

You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”

Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”

You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”

As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.

“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.

“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”

“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.

Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”

You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.

“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.

“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”

“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.

“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”

Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”

You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”

Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”

He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.

“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious now.

Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”

The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.

“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.

“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”

You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.

Logan vs. The Cooking Show

Summary: You convince Logan to participate in a local cooking show, thinking his rugged charm will win over the audience.

Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader

Genre              : Fluff

It was just another Saturday morning when you stumbled across the flyer. The local cooking show was holding auditions, and they were looking for “unique personalities” to compete. You couldn’t help but picture Logan strutting around the kitchen, his rugged charm mixed with culinary chaos.

“Logan, you gotta do this,” you said, waving the flyer in his face as he grunted in response, trying to sip his coffee like he wasn’t about to face the biggest disaster of his life.

“Hell no. I don’t do cooking shows,” he replied, glaring at you over the rim of his mug. His eyes narrowed, as if you had just suggested a cage fight with a grizzly bear.

“But think about it! You could totally win this thing! Just imagine the viewers swooning over the tough guy who can cook.” You leaned in, your excitement bubbling over. “They’ll eat it up! Literally!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, I can barely boil water without blowin’ it up. I’m not about to set foot in a kitchen with cameras.”

You smirked, leaning closer. “But I’d be there. I’d help. And you know you wanna show off for me.”

He hesitated, his resolve faltering. “Show off? For you? Please.” But the slightest twitch at the corner of his lips told you he was already halfway in.

“C’mon! What’s the worst that could happen? It’ll be fun!”

Logan grumbled under his breath, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to shake off the impending doom. “Fine. But if I end up in the hospital because I burn something, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal!” You grinned, fist-pumping in victory.

The day of the cooking show arrived, and Logan looked like he was gearing up for a battle rather than a cooking competition. He wore his usual plaid shirt, but somehow, he managed to look even grumpier than usual.

The kitchen was set up with an array of ingredients and utensils that Logan clearly had never seen in his life. You stood beside him, trying to ignore the fact that the cameras were rolling, capturing every moment of Logan’s impending culinary disaster.

“Okay, Logan,” you said, pointing to a table full of fancy ingredients. “What do you want to make?”

He frowned, his gaze darting around like he was on a treasure hunt for something he recognized. “What the hell is ‘quinoa’? Is that some kinda birdseed?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, it’s a grain. It’s healthy!”

“Healthy, huh? Yeah, I’d rather have a steak,” he muttered, scowling as if the very thought of quinoa was an insult to his manliness.

As the show host introduced the challenge—a gourmet take on classic comfort food—Logan stared at the ingredients with a mixture of confusion and determination.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, grabbing a knife.

You watched in horror as he picked up the knife, not quite realizing how he was gripping it. “Logan, you might wanna be careful with—”

Slash!

The knife went flying, landing with a clatter on the floor. Logan blinked, eyes wide. “Shit! I didn’t mean to do that.”

You snorted, trying not to laugh. “It’s just a knife, Logan. Don’t go all Wolverine on it.”

He glared at you, muttering something under his breath. “Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

As the challenge progressed, it became clear that Logan had zero clue how to handle any of the ingredients. He picked up a jar labeled “sea salt” and held it like it was a grenade.

“Wait—what’s the difference between salt and sugar?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

You facepalmed. “Logan, seriously? Just taste it. You know what salt is!”

He unscrewed the cap and took a whiff, immediately making a face like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “Goddamn! This stuff smells like the ocean.”

“You’re supposed to sprinkle it in the dish, not huff it,” you said, laughing.

As he tried to sprinkle it over his mix of questionable ingredients, he accidentally poured half the jar into the bowl. You winced, anticipating the explosion of flavor that was about to hit everyone’s taste buds.

“Too much?” he asked, watching the white crystals pile up like a snowstorm.

“Uh, yeah. Just a tad,” you said, biting back laughter. “You might want to add a little bit of everything, not a whole freakin’ mountain.”

“Whatever. It’s all goin’ in,” he grunted, throwing in a handful of something else—was it cilantro?—and mixing it all together with an enthusiasm that was borderline terrifying.

When it came time to chop vegetables, the real fun began. Logan, who usually sliced through enemies like a hot knife through butter, was clearly out of his element. He tried to use his claws, only for you to shout, “No! Use the knife!”

“Fine! But if I end up slicing my hand off, I swear to God…”

“Just focus!” You could barely contain your laughter as he awkwardly maneuvered the knife, managing to barely chop a tomato without sending it flying across the kitchen.

“You know, I should’ve just brought a steak and called it a day,” he muttered, glaring at the tomatoes like they had personally offended him.

“Or you could make a steak with the tomatoes as a side. Just think of it as... ‘Logan’s Special’,” you suggested, grinning.

He shot you a look that said he’d rather face a hundred Sentinels than create a culinary masterpiece, but he sighed and went back to chopping, albeit a bit more carefully this time.

As the clock ticked down, the chaos reached new heights. Logan, sweating bullets, was trying to juggle too many things at once. He’d put the quinoa on to boil but had completely forgotten about it.

“Crap! The quinoa!” he yelled, running to the stove.

The pot was bubbling over, and steam was shooting out like a geyser. Logan slapped the lid on it, but not before a little bit of the grain spilled over the counter.

“Great. Just great. I’m gonna be cleaning this shit up for weeks,” he grumbled, glancing at the camera crew, who were barely containing their laughter.

“Just breathe, Logan. You’ve got this!” you encouraged, fighting back your own giggles.

“Yeah, I got this. Just me, a million ingredients I don’t understand, and a kitchen that’s about to explode,” he shot back, his hands moving in a way that clearly demonstrated his rising panic.

Finally, with only minutes left on the clock, Logan frantically assembled his “gourmet” dish. You couldn’t help but notice the sheer determination in his eyes, even as he nearly dumped an entire bottle of balsamic vinegar over everything.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you shouted, rushing over.

“It said to drizzle!” he protested, shaking the bottle like it was a ketchup dispenser.

“Drizzle, not drown! You’re gonna ruin it!”

He paused, a sheepish grin breaking through his frustration. “Guess I’m a little too enthusiastic, huh?”

“Just a bit,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes but appreciating his effort. “Just finish up, we’ve got seconds left.”

With one final flurry of chaos, he plated his “masterpiece.” It looked like a mess, but you could see the glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“Ta-da!” he exclaimed, holding up the plate like it was the Holy Grail.

You clapped your hands, genuinely impressed. “Not bad, tough guy. Not bad at all.”

“Yeah, well, if it sucks, I’m blaming you,” he said, crossing his arms, though you could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

The judges took their first bites, and you held your breath, half-expecting them to spit it out. But as they chewed, their eyes widened, and one of them exclaimed, “Wow! This is... surprisingly good!”

Logan blinked, clearly shocked. “Wait, what? Seriously?”

“Yeah! The flavors are... interesting. It’s like you combined everything perfectly!” another judge chimed in.

Logan’s face was a mix of disbelief and pride. “No way. You’re messin’ with me, right?”

“Honestly, you’ve got talent!” one judge said, smiling brightly.

You could hardly contain your laughter. “Told you so, Wolverine! Who knew you had hidden culinary skills?”

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to make this a habit. I still prefer rare meat,” he replied, scratching his head. But there was a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.

As the show wrapped up, Logan was still riding high on the unexpected praise. “I can’t believe I didn’t burn the place down,” he said, shaking his head.

“You did great! I mean, apart from almost turning the kitchen into a disaster zone,” you teased.

“Whatever. I think I might’ve actually surprised myself,” he admitted, a genuine smile creeping onto his face.

“And me!” you added, nudging him playfully. “You might just have a future in the culinary world.”

“Only if it involves steaks and beer,” he said, shooting you a wink.

You leaned in closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “Hey, if you ever want to cook for me again, I’m totally down for it. Just maybe stick to simpler recipes next time?”

“Deal. But you’re doing the prep work,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around you. As you walked out together, the warmth of his embrace felt just right. You chuckled, thinking about the day’s chaos, and how it had only brought you closer. In the midst of cooking disasters and laughter, you found a little more of Logan’s soft side than you ever expected.

Beard Wars

Summary: Logan’s been growing out his beard, and you’re starting to suspect it might be a little too attached to his face. Now it’s become a silent standoff between you, his beard, and the world’s dullest scissors.

Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Wife!Fem-reader

Genre              : Fluff

You’d seen Logan do a lot of wild stuff in your time together. The man fought in wars, took bullets like mosquito bites, and still had the nerve to complain about your cooking. But nothing—nothing—had prepared you for the unholy battle brewing in your bathroom.

It had been growing… and growing. Logan’s beard, that is. The thing had practically taken on a life of its own. And sure, when it first started, it was rugged. Hot, even. You loved the whole “wild lumberjack with claws” look. But after a couple months, the beard went from sexy to Sasquatch. Now it was long enough to braid… if you dared.

You stood there, glaring at Logan as he sat on the couch, legs kicked up, flipping through channels like he didn’t have a forest attached to his chin. You crossed your arms. “Logan.”

“Hmm?”

“We gotta talk about it.”

He didn’t even look at you. “Talk about what?”

“The beard.”

He glanced up over the remote, raising one bushy eyebrow. “What about it?”

“Babe.” You gestured to his face. “It’s gotten out of control. It’s like… you’re turning into Chewbacca.”

Logan shrugged, clearly not giving a single shit. “What? It’s fine.”

“Fine? Logan, it’s a beard. Not a security blanket.” You shook your head. “I swear, it’s like you’re afraid of trimming it.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Afraid? Nah. Just like the way it looks.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Babe, it’s started curling up at the ends. It looks like a goddamn villain’s mustache from a silent film. I’m half-expecting you to tie me to train tracks next.”

Logan huffed and stretched his legs. “What do you want me to do? Cut it?”

“Yes! Just… trim it. Before it starts forming opinions and voting in elections.”

“Good one,” he muttered, still flipping through the channels. “But nah. I like it.”

You knew this was going to be harder than you thought. This wasn’t a normal beard. This was Logan’s pride. His stupid, stubborn pride wrapped around his jaw like a fuzzy security blanket. You didn’t have claws or mutant powers, but damn it, you had scissors. And a dream.

Later that evening, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, practicing your technique. You held up the scissors and snipped the air a few times. Yeah, you had this. Stealth, precision, quick reflexes—you’d get him in his sleep.

You glanced down at the pair of dull scissors in your hand, suddenly wondering if maybe this wasn’t the smartest plan. Those things couldn’t cut through paper, let alone Logan’s adamantium-grade beard.

“Whatcha doin’ in there?” Logan’s voice echoed from the living room, suspicious.

“Uh, nothing!” You quickly shoved the scissors into the drawer and tried to look innocent. “Just, uh, brushing my teeth.”

“Mmhmm.” He didn’t believe you for a second.

That night, you waited. Logan fell asleep on the couch, a beer bottle balanced on his chest. You crept up, scissors in hand, moving like a ninja. The beard was right there—so close. One good snip, and you could at least tame that beast.

But the moment the scissors touched one hair, Logan’s hand shot out, catching your wrist. His eyes opened lazily. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’, darlin’?”

You froze, caught red-handed. “Um… grooming?”

Logan sat up, still holding your wrist with that annoyingly strong grip. “We talkin’ dog grooming or attempted murder?”

You sighed, defeated. “Logan, c’mon. It’s gotta go.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the hell out of this. “You really think you can take this thing down with those weak-ass scissors? Good luck, babe.”

You pouted, yanking your wrist free. “You can’t live like this forever. You look like a damn mountain man.”

“That’s the point.”

“What, you gonna move to the woods and start living off the land?”

Logan chuckled, getting up from the couch. “Might not be such a bad idea. Get away from all this.” He waved a hand around like civilization was an inconvenience he had to endure.

“Okay, Thoreau,” you muttered, “but can we at least compromise? A little trim? Just a bit so you don’t look like a cryptid?”

Logan thought about it for a second, rubbing his chin. “Alright. You get one inch. One. Any more, and you’re losin’ a hand.”

You blinked. “That’s not exactly what I meant by compromise, but I’ll take it.”

The next morning, Logan sat in the kitchen, grudgingly handing you a pair of sharper scissors. “Make it quick.”

You grinned like you’d won the lottery. “I promise it’ll be painless.”

“You better hope so.”

You gingerly reached for the beard, Logan’s eyes watching you like a hawk. The tension was thick—one wrong move, and you knew it’d be war.

Snip. You took off just enough to make a difference, but not enough to piss him off. He grunted but didn’t complain. Snip, snip. A couple more careful cuts, and you stepped back, admiring your handiwork.

Logan rubbed his chin, inspecting it in the mirror. “Not bad.”

“See? Didn’t kill you.”

“Yet.”

You laughed, putting the scissors down. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Logan stood up, stretching. “Maybe. But at least now I won’t get mistaken for Bigfoot at the grocery store.”

You smirked. “Who knew the Wolverine could be such a drama queen about a beard?”

He growled, but this time, you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t push it, babe. Next time you come near me with those scissors, you might lose an eye.”

“Noted.” You gave him a playful wink. “But seriously, thanks for not letting it grow legs and walk off on its own.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket. “Now let’s get outta here before you try to cut somethin’ else.”

As he headed for the door, you couldn’t resist one last comment. “Don’t worry, the hair on your head is next.”

Logan shot you a look over his shoulder. “Don’t. Even. Think about it.”

Hug Of Death

Summary: Logan’s always careful with his hugs, but after a night of too many drinks, he accidentally snikts his claws mid-hug. Now you’re trying to explain to ER staff why your boyfriend almost impaled you.

Pairing            : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Girlfriend!Human-reader Genre             : Fluff

It started out like any other Friday night—Logan dragging your ass to the local dive bar, his usual grumpy self trying to act all relaxed, and you sipping on whiskey, wondering how the hell you ended up dating a literal superhero with zero social skills and an endless supply of rage. But, y’know, you loved the guy, claws and all.

You’d both had a few drinks. Okay, way more than a few. The funny thing about Logan? That damn healing factor usually makes it impossible for him to get drunk. But tonight, well, something must've clicked because he was tipsy. And when Logan gets tipsy, he gets affectionate. He kept slinging his arm over you, pulling you in close, slurring something about how you were “the best thing that ever happened to him, babe,” and you were half-laughing, half-trying not to get crushed by his overenthusiastic affection.

“Babe, you’re crushin' me,” you gasp, wriggling under his weight as he leans in a little too close.

Logan grins, all teeth and stubble, his breath reeking of whiskey. “Aww, c’mon, honey. I ain’t crushin’ ya, just showin’ ya some love.”

You roll your eyes, trying to push him back a bit. “Yeah, Wolverine-level love. You forget you’re made of, I dunno, indestructible metal?”

“Pfft.” He waves it off like it’s no big deal, taking another swig from his bottle. “Details.”

Hours later, after countless beers, shots, and some weird drink the bartender insisted on calling “The Sabretooth Slammer,” you’re both stumbling back to your apartment. Logan’s got his arm draped over your shoulders like he’s forgotten how to use his own legs, and you’re doing your best not to let him drag you to the ground.

“You good, babe?” you ask, trying not to laugh as he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, stumbling like a massive, drunk toddler. “Logan, you’re about to face-plant on the pavement.”

“‘Course I’m good, darlin’,” he mumbles, flashing you a goofy grin. “I’m always good.”

You barely make it inside, but Logan, being the overly affectionate and entirely too drunk man that he is, decides it’s the perfect time to give you a hug. Not just any hug, mind you—this is a full-on, bear hug.

“Logan, easy—” you start, but it’s too late. He’s already wrapped you up in his arms, squeezing you like he’s afraid you might evaporate if he lets go.

“Love ya, babe,” he slurs, nuzzling his scruffy face into your hair. “So much.”

It’s actually kinda sweet...until you feel it.

SNIKT

“Oh, shit—Logan!” You yelp, pushing against his chest. “Your claws!”

Logan blinks, confused, as his adamantium claws slide out with that signature metallic sound. He’s still got you wrapped up in his arms, which is really not ideal when he’s packing literal knives in his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, glancing down at the claws sticking out dangerously close to your side. “Babe, I... I didn’t mean to!”

You wiggle out of his grasp, holding up your shirt to check for any damage. A thin scratch, nothing serious, but you shoot him a look. “Logan, you almost impaled me!”

Logan stumbles backward, looking down at his hands in horror. “Goddammit, I—too much affection, huh?”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. “Too much booze, babe. Too much booze.”

Cut to the ER. You’re sitting on one of those paper-lined beds while a nurse wraps a bandage around your torso, trying to keep a straight face as Logan awkwardly shifts in the chair next to you. He’s still not sober, by the way, and is doing his best to stay quiet. Not his strong suit.

“So, let me get this straight,” the nurse says, biting back a smile. “Your boyfriend... accidentally scratched you. With his... claws?”

You shoot Logan a sideways glance. He’s sitting there, his arms crossed, looking like a kid who got caught sneaking a cookie before dinner. “Yeah,” you say, trying to sound casual. “It happens.”

Logan, still drunk, mutters, “I just love too damn hard.”

The nurse stifles a laugh. “Right. Well, just be careful with those claws next time, okay?”

Logan groans, running a hand through his hair. “Ain’t gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you grin, wincing as the bandage tightens. “This is gonna be a running joke for the next, like, decade. At least.”

“Christ,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re really gonna milk this, huh?”

“Damn right I am, darling,” you laugh, leaning over to peck his cheek, which, honestly, just makes him blush even harder. “Let’s get out of here before they start charging us extra for the ‘superhero boyfriend’ drama.”

Logan chuckles softly, getting up from his chair to help you up. “Babe, next time... no drinks. Just, I dunno, Netflix or somethin’.”

You smirk. “Yeah, and maybe a hug that won’t send me to the ER?”

Logan pulls you in, carefully this time, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

Second Date

continuation from this.

Summary: Logan’s nerves ease up during the second date, as he finally opens up about being a mutant, and things get hilariously sweet and chaotic.

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Genre              : Fluff

You weren’t sure what to expect for the second date. After all, Logan had been… well, awkward as hell the first time. He was cute, sure, but the guy seemed more comfortable punching bad guys than sitting at a bar chatting about work. But still, here you were, standing outside the dessert shop he picked for tonight.

Through the window, you spotted him in his signature flannel, boots still a little muddy—classic Logan. When he saw you, he stood up like a soldier ready for duty. Adorable.

“Hey, babe,” Logan greeted you, catching you off guard. Babe? Really? Since when did he start calling you that?

You blinked, trying not to laugh. “Babe, huh? We're moving fast.”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly not used to the nickname either. “Yeah, uh... figured I’d try it out. Sounded better in my head.”

You smirked. “Nah, it’s cute. Keep it up.”

The place was cozy, full of pastel-colored walls and a dessert counter that looked like it was out of a Pinterest board. Logan looked hilariously out of place—like a bear in a cupcake shop—but you found it charming.

“So, you brought me to a dessert place?” you teased as you sat down.

Logan shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “Figured you'd like it. Plus, beer and wings weren’t exactly a hit last time.”

You grinned. “True. But this is nice. Besides, who doesn’t like sugar?”

Logan cracked a small smile, still fidgeting like he didn’t know where to put his hands. The waitress came by, and you both ordered a ridiculous-looking dessert platter. But Logan stayed quiet for a minute, clearly holding something back.

Finally, after he stabbed his fork into a cupcake, he blurted, “I gotta tell you somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Sounds serious.”

“I’m, uh... kinda not like most people.” He paused, looking at you for a reaction, but you just nodded. “I’m a mutant.”

You blinked. “Oh. Is that it?”

Logan stared at you like you'd just told him Santa was real. “What d’ya mean, ‘is that it’? I’m practically a walking science experiment! Claws, healing powers, and I’ve lived through more wars than I care to count!”

You sipped your drink and smiled. “Logan, c'mon. Mutants aren’t exactly rare. You know that, right? Everyone’s cool with it now.”

Logan’s face softened, clearly relieved. “Shit. You’re serious?”

You nodded. “Yeah, babe. It's all good. Besides, claws are kinda hot.”

He nearly choked on his cupcake. “Claws are hot?”

You leaned in, grinning. “What else you got?”

Logan finally relaxed, a real smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I can heal pretty quick. Like, faster than you’d believe.”

“Useful in case you fall during the ice skating part of tonight, huh?”

Logan frowned, confused. “Ice skatin’? I don’t—” He trailed off when you pointed at the rink just across the street. “You serious? I’ll look like an idiot.”

“You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m clumsy as hell. You’ll just have to catch me.”

Logan’s expression softened at that, his usual gruffness fading a bit. “Yeah, alright. But if you fall, I’m draggin’ you outta there.”

Half an hour later, you were wobbling on the ice, while Logan, surprisingly stable, kept pace beside you. Turns out super healing makes for decent balance.

“I told you I’d suck at this!” you laughed, nearly toppling over for the third time.

Logan caught your arm, pulling you upright with a grin. “You weren’t lyin’, babe. You’re like a baby deer out here.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, barely keeping your feet under you.

You slipped—again—and this time, Logan yanked you into him, his arms catching you just in time. For a second, you both just stood there, inches apart, his breath warm against your cheek. Logan looked down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re a menace on ice, you know that?”

Before you could snap back, he reached out, lightly pinching your cheek. “But you’re cute as hell, so I guess I can deal.”

Your heart did a little flip. Logan? Pinching cheeks and calling you cute? Who was this guy?

“Y’know, you’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be,” you teased, nudging him.

Logan just grunted, looking away. “Don’t get used to it.”

You chuckled. “Too late, babe.”

The night went on like that—little moments of clumsy skating and playful jabs, Logan more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. By the time you both sat down on a bench outside, you were still laughing about how you’d nearly taken him down with you on the ice.

“Alright, you win,” he said, wiping his brow. “Maybe ice skatin’ ain’t so bad.”

“Maybe?” you raised an eyebrow. “I think you had fun.”

Logan smirked, leaning back. “Yeah, maybe I did.”

Then, before you could say anything else, he leaned in and kissed you—soft at first, but with enough heat to make your stomach flip. And when he pulled back, his eyes had that same mischievous glint from earlier.

“Round three?” he muttered against your lips.

You laughed, cheeks burning. “You’re on, babe.”

Claw Machine Master

Summary: Logan becomes obsessed with winning you a prize at the claw machine, but after burning through a hundred bucks and failing miserably, he uses his actual claws to grab the toy, setting off alarms. “Babe, I won, now run!”

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Gf!Human-reader Genre              : Fluff

You and Logan stroll through the arcade, the air buzzing with the sounds of laughter, beeping machines, and the smell of buttery popcorn. It’s one of those rare days where he’s not off saving the world or being a total grump. Instead, he’s decided to channel his inner child, and honestly, it’s hilarious watching this grizzly mutant navigate through a world of flashing lights and pastel-colored prizes.

“Hey, babe, check it out!” he shouts, pointing dramatically at a claw machine that’s blaring “Pick Me! Pick Me!” like a desperate kid at a birthday party. Inside, you see a plush unicorn, all sparkly and cute. It’s practically begging to be won.

“Logan, don’t,” you warn, laughing. “Remember the last time you tried to win me something? You ended up breaking the machine.”

“Yeah, but that was a fluke! This time will be different,” he insists, all pumped up and ready to go. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, and you know that if he goes in, he’s gonna give it everything he’s got.

“Alright, but I’m standing back. I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime,” you tease.

He throws you a playful glare. “Pfft. How hard can it be? It’s just a claw.”

He approaches the machine like it’s a life-or-death situation. The little screen flashes “Insert Coins,” and Logan pops in a couple of bucks like he’s preparing for war. He adjusts his stance, rolling his shoulders back as if he’s about to take on a Sentinal. You stifle a laugh, taking a step back to observe.

“Alright, watch and learn, honey,” he says, smirking at you. “Claw Machine Master at work.”

The first attempt? A total flop. The claw barely grazes the unicorn before plummeting back down like a rock. Logan’s jaw tightens, his competitive side kicking in. “Okay, that was a warm-up. Just getting the feel for it.”

“Sure, let’s call it that,” you giggle, arms crossed, enjoying the show.

After another few rounds—and about fifty bucks later—he’s starting to get frustrated. “This damn thing is rigged! I swear it’s cheating!” he growls, glaring at the machine as if it just insulted him.

“Or maybe you just suck at claw machines,” you quip. “You’re a master at literally everything else, Logan, but this? Not so much.”

He throws you a playful glare. “Alright, smartass, you think you can do better? Get in there and try!”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ll let you have this one. It’s more fun watching you lose your mind over a stuffed toy.”

With a snort, he rolls his eyes and goes back for another attempt. After burning through more cash, it’s clear that this unicorn is tougher than any enemy he’s faced. “Babe, I’m gonna win you this prize if it kills me,” he mutters under his breath.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t! I don’t want you to end up in the emergency room because of a stuffed animal!”

Finally, he steps back, looking completely defeated. You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “This isn’t over!” he declares, his voice rising like a battle cry. “I’ll get that unicorn if it’s the last thing I do.”

Suddenly, you see that wicked spark in his eye, the one that usually means he’s concocting something insane. “What are you thinking?” you ask, half-excited and half-terrified.

“Watch this,” he smirks, and before you can even process what’s happening, he unsheathes his claws, slicing through the air with a snikt that makes everyone turn to stare.

“Logan, no! Don’t you dare!” you shout, but it’s too late. He lunges at the claw machine and, with surgical precision, he reaches into the glass case.

“Babe, I won! Now run!” he yells, grabbing the unicorn as the machine starts blaring alarms like it’s the end of the world.

You grab his arm, yanking him away from the scene of chaos. “You crazy son of a—let’s get out of here!”

Logan, still holding the plush toy like a trophy, bursts out laughing, running like a madman with you right beside him. “I can’t believe I just did that! I’m like the Robin Hood of claw machines!”

“More like the criminal of claw machines!” you shout, laughing uncontrollably as you dart through the arcade, dodging other players and workers who are now chasing after you both.

As you reach the exit, Logan pulls you into a side alley, still holding the unicorn like a proud parent. “That was wild! Did you see their faces?”

You’re breathless, still giggling as you lean against the wall. “You just committed arcade robbery! And for a stuffed toy!”

He shrugs, grinning widely. “It’s worth it for you, babe. Plus, look at this thing! It’s adorable!”

“Logan, I love it, but next time, maybe let’s just buy a keychain?” you suggest, still trying to catch your breath.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he laughs, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you close. “Next adventure, babe. We’ll get matching unicorns or something.”

James 'Logan' Howlett (The Wolverine)

One-Shots

Series

MASTERLIST

James 'Logan' Howlett (Wolverine)

Series

FADING BONDS

Summary: Two broken souls—Logan, an aging hero, and a young woman overlooked by her own family—find solace in each other’s silent company, forming an unexpected connection that challenges their emotional walls.

Pairing            : OldMutant!Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Genre              : Fluff, Angst  

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5:The Final)

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

FADED DAYS

Summary: In a bleak world where Logan has lost his purpose, an unexpected connection with his nurse brings a spark of humor and humanity back into his fading life as an Uber driver.

Pairing            : OldMutant!Logan Howlett x Nurse!Fem-reader Genre              : Heavy Angst

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7:The Final)

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

GHOST

Summary: Logan seeks solitude in the mountains, haunted by his thoughts of Jean and their future, but a sudden scent drags him back to memories he thought he'd buried — you.

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Ex-girlfriend!Human-reader Genre              : Angst, Fluff

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7: The Final)

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Babe, Relax!

continuation from this.

Summary: Logan transforms from the tough Wolverine to an overprotective dad, freaking out over every little cough from the baby while you can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous antics as he tries (and fails) to hide his panic.

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Wife!Human-reader Genre              : Fluff

The first week at home with your little miracle has been a whirlwind of sleepless nights and endless diaper changes. As you sit on the couch, cradling the baby in your arms, you can’t help but laugh at Logan’s over-the-top antics. He’s pacing the living room like a caged animal, a mix of worry and pride etched across his rugged face.

“Babe, you gotta make sure he’s breathing, right?” Logan says, peering over your shoulder like he’s about to interrogate the kid. “Like, he’s not gonna stop breathing when I’m not lookin’, right? You know these little guys—” he gestures dramatically, “they’re sneaky!”

You can’t help but giggle, rocking the baby gently. “Logan, he’s not a ninja. He’s just a baby. Chill, will ya? He’s fine.”

Logan crosses his arms, his brow furrowing like he’s contemplating a life-or-death situation. “Yeah, but what if he goes all ‘sleep mode’ and forgets to breathe? You never know. I don’t trust these tiny humans.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your heart makes it hard to keep a straight face. “I promise you, sweetheart, he knows how to breathe. Just like you know how to stop being a drama queen.”

He huffs, tapping his foot. “Hey! I’m a very composed dude. Besides, I’m just looking out for our kid. You know, I’ve faced bad guys and wars and shit, but this? This is different. This is my baby.”

You can’t help but smile at the fierce protector he’s turned into. “You’re a badass, babe. But you’re not going to battle. Just be the dad you are. Trust me; you’re doing great.”

Logan relaxes a bit, leaning against the wall and trying to look nonchalant, but you see his eyes darting back to the baby. “You sure? I mean, you saw how I fainted in the hospital. I can’t go down like that again. Imagine if I passed out right here while holding him! The kid would have to save me!”

You chuckle. “Oh yeah, the baby would just pop out with claws and start yelling ‘Dad, get up!’”

Logan grins, relaxing a little more. “You think he’ll be a mutant? Because if he is, I’m gonna train him in the backyard, no rules.”

“Yeah, because that’s exactly what a baby needs—sword fights in the backyard.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “Can we just enjoy this moment without any ‘Wolverine 2.0’ training sessions? Let him crawl first, babe.”

“Alright, fine. No backyard training... yet,” he says, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes. “But I’m not givin’ up on him learning to be a badass. He’s my kid, after all.”

You shift the baby a little, adjusting the blanket around him, and Logan’s gaze softens. “Look at him, though. He’s perfect. I mean, he’s got my chin, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You mean the chin that looks like it’s been through a few bar fights? Yeah, he’s got that.”

Logan smirks, pointing a finger at you. “And you’re sayin’ he got that from me? At least I’ve got the claws to back it up!”

“Sure, Logan, sure. Just be careful not to scare the baby with your ‘fierce’ face,” you tease, leaning in for a kiss. His lips brush against yours, softening the tension in the room.

Logan’s expression turns serious again. “But really, babe, if anything happens, just tell me, okay? I can’t have you or him in danger.”

You nod, your heart swelling. “I know, Logan. But we’re both fine. Just enjoy being a dad.”

He scratches his head, glancing between you and the baby. “I just wish I knew what I was doin’. What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Are you kidding? He’s going to think you’re the coolest dad ever,” you assure him, gesturing toward the tiny boy. “Look at you! He’s gonna grow up hearing all your stories about clawing through bad guys and saving the day.”

Logan chuckles softly. “Yeah, and I’ll make sure to throw in some ‘don’t be a jerk’ life lessons.”

The baby lets out a soft coo, and Logan’s expression melts, his face lighting up. “Did you hear that? He’s talking to me! He gets it!”

You lean back, enjoying the sight of Logan falling deeper for your little boy. “He totally does, babe. He’s a smart one.”

Logan takes a step closer, bending down to get a better look. “You’re gonna be a tough little dude, right? No cryin’ allowed. You hear me?”

You stifle a laugh, loving every minute of Logan’s daddy antics. “Yeah, Logan, because that’s how babies work. Just wait until he starts screaming at three in the morning. You’ll be singing a different tune.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Hey, I can handle anything—except you screaming at me.”

With a smirk, you throw a pillow at him. “Good luck with that!”

As Logan catches the pillow, a thought crosses your mind. You reach out to hold his hand. “Hey, thanks for being you, you know? I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.”

Logan squeezes your hand, a softness in his eyes. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to share this craziness with. Just you and our little one. We got this, darlin’.”

“Damn right we do. Now, how about you go grab a snack while I keep an eye on the baby?”

He stands up, smirking. “You just wanna keep me away from him so I don’t freak out.”

“Exactly,” you tease, “You can only check on him every five minutes, Mr. Overprotective!”

Logan shakes his head with a laugh. “Fine, but you better let me know if anything goes south. You know I can’t handle it.”

You wave him off as he heads to the kitchen, and you can’t help but smile. This is your new normal, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. The love, the laughter, the gentle chaos—it’s all worth it.

As you glance down at the baby, you know one thing for sure: your little family is about to have one hell of an adventure.

Driver's Seat

Summary: With no cash to pay your Uber driver, Logan, you boldly offer a blowjob instead.

Pairing            : Uber-driver!Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Note              : smut, blowjob

The city lights flashed by as the Uber rolled down the streets, the low rumble of the engine mingling with the late-night tunes spilling from the speakers. You were sinking into the plush leather seat, a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration coursing through you after a wild night out. You glanced over at the driver, Logan, his rugged silhouette framed by the glow of the dashboard. His grey, tousled hair and scruff hinted at a man who had seen it all, a hint of mischief lurking behind those intense blue eyes.

You pulled out your wallet, ready to settle up, but a sinking feeling hit you hard. You flipped through the empty slots, fingers trembling slightly. “Shit,” you muttered, realizing your cash was nowhere to be found. The only thing left was a couple of crumpled receipts. Panic bubbled up inside you, and you bit your lip, glancing up at Logan.

“Uh, so… about the fare…” you started, your cheeks heating up.

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that oh-so-sarcastic way of his. “You forgot your cash, huh? Classic move.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, well, I had a little too much fun tonight. I wasn’t exactly planning to be broke. Sir.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling, sending a shiver down your spine. “Welcome to my world, doll. So what now? You gonna sit there and look cute while I take you home for free?”

The playful glint in his eye made your heart race, and a sudden, crazy idea popped into your head. It was reckless and wild, but what the hell. You leaned forward, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “What if I have a different way to pay you?”

Logan turned to you, a mixture of amusement and intrigue flickering in his gaze. “I’m listening.”

With a deep breath, you decided to throw caution to the wind. “How about… a little favor? Something a bit more… intimate?”

His expression shifted, a low growl escaping his throat as he pulled the car over to the side of the road, the sudden halt making your heart race even faster. You could feel the air thickening with tension, every second stretching out as you met his gaze.

“Intimate, huh? You sure you can handle that?” He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his muscular chest, and the way he looked at you sent a wave of heat through your body.

“Oh, I think I can manage,” you replied, your voice sultry and daring. You leaned closer, the scent of leather and something distinctly Logan—woodsy, musky—invading your senses.

He didn’t move, just watched you, his blue eyes darkening with a mixture of interest and something deeper, something primal.

“Okay, then. Let’s see what you got”, while he shifted to the backseat.

With the adrenaline pumping, the car suddenly feeling way too small as you settled in close to him. “Sir, I promise you won’t regret this,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Damn straight I won’t,” he replied, his tone low and gravelly, making your skin tingle.

You felt your heart pounding, the tension sizzling between you. Slowly, you let your fingers trail down his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The fabric of his shirt felt rough against your fingertips, and the muscles beneath were solid and inviting. Logan’s breath hitched, and you could see his restraint slipping away, the predatory glint in his eyes igniting a fire in your belly.

“Now, I want you to take your time,” he said, his voice a growl that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Leaning in closer, you could see the flecks of his thick grey hair, the way his grey stubble caught the light. You ran your fingers through his grey hair, feeling the rough texture.

As you lowered your lips to his neck, you could taste the salty taste of his skin, a mix of sweat and something distinctly him. He inhaled sharply, a low rumble of pleasure escaping him. “Goddamn, that feels good,” he muttered, his hands gripping your waist as if holding onto a lifeline.

“Just wait,” you replied, your breath hot against his skin. You kissed your way down to his collarbone, each press of your lips making him tense and moan softly, that sound driving you wild. You could feel him responding to you, the way his body was coiling with anticipation.

“Damn, you really are somethin’ else,” he breathed, a hint of awe in his voice that made you smile.

“Yeah? Just wait till you see what else I can do,” you teased, your hands roaming over his muscular arms, the power underneath making your heart race even faster.

With a swift motion, you slid down, kneeling between his legs. Logan’s breath caught in his throat as you looked up at him, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers through your body. You could see the wildness in his eyes, a hunger that mirrored your own.

A low growl rumbling in his chest as you slowly reached for the zipper of his black pants, teasingly pulling it down. You could see the tension coiling in him, his muscles tightening, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the power you held in this moment.

As you revealed him, the sight made your mouth water. Logan was everything you had imagined—a lot of grey hair on his balls, his tip red, thick, hard, and ready for you. You leaned in closer, the scent of him overwhelming your senses. You could taste the salt on your lips, and it drove you wild with desire.

“Damn,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “You really know how to get a guy’s attention.”

“Just wait,” you teased again, taking your time as you let your tongue flick out to taste him, feeling his sharp intake of breath. He was salty, a flavor that was uniquely him, and you couldn’t get enough.

The heat radiating from his body making you feel alive.

“Don’t waste it,” he urged, his voice thick with lust.

With a wicked grin, you dove in deeper, your mouth enveloping him, swirling your tongue around his tip and savoring every moment. Logan’s hands tangled in your hair, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided you, urging you on. The sounds he made were music to your ears, a deep growl of pleasure that reverberated in your bones, fueling your desire.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice thick with need. “Keep going.”

You could feel his body responding to you, the way his hips bucked slightly, seeking more, his grey hair brush your face, his balls slapping your face. The world outside faded away as you focused on him, every flick of your tongue drawing more of those delicious sounds from him.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he groaned, and the compliment sent a rush of pride through you. You could feel him tightening, his breathing growing erratic, and you knew he was close.

“God, I’m gonna lose it if you keep that up,” he warned, his voice gravelly and deep. “You might wanna pull back a bit.”

“Not a chance,” you replied with a smirk, leaning in again. You swirled your tongue around him, feeling his body react beneath your touch. Every sound he made, every involuntary twitch of his muscles, only pushed you further into this delicious frenzy of desire.

“Fuck,” he growled, the tension in the air becoming almost unbearable. You could feel him getting closer, and the thrill of knowing you had him right where you wanted only fueled your own hunger.

His hands tightened in your hair, a low warning rumbling from his chest. “You keep that up, I’m gonna—” His words cut off as you took him deeper, your mouth moving faster, and the sound of his breathy gasps filled the car.

You could see the struggle on his face, the way he was fighting against the edge, but you weren’t having any of it. You wanted him to lose control.

The way his hips instinctively moved against your mouth told you he was more than ready to give in. You pulled back just enough to tease him, your lips just barely grazing the tip of him as you looked up into his eyes.

He cursed under his breath, the sound raw and hungry. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love it,” you shot back, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

“Hell yeah, I do,” he admitted, his voice rough, eyes burning with desire. “You’re a damn goddess.”

With that, you dove back in, taking him fully into your mouth and hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue around him as you felt him hit the back of your throat. Logan’s body went taut, every muscle coiling with tension as he groaned loudly, and the sound sent a thrill through you.

“Fuck, yes,” he gasped, and you could feel his breathing quickening, every thrust of his hips urging you on.

With a fierce growl, he finally surrendered, his body arching as he released himself deep into your mouth. You felt the warmth of him filling you, the salty taste overwhelming your senses as you drank him down, every pulse sending shockwaves through your body.

“Damn, that’s it,” he panted, his voice raw and heavy with pleasure. “You’re incredible.”

As the last waves of pleasure coursed through him, you slowly pulled back, savoring the taste and feeling a rush of triumph wash over you. Logan looked down at you, eyes dark with satisfaction, the tension finally breaking as he leaned back against the seat, chest heaving.

“Who knew you could be such a badass?” he said, a hint of admiration lacing his tone.

You laughed softly, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “What can I say? I’ve got a knack for making payments.”

He shook his head, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You’re one of a kind, you know that?”

Public Heat

Summary: Logan’s wild side takes over as he fucks you onto the balcony.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Note               : exhibitionism sex, smut

The cool night air hit your skin, but the heat between you and Logan was enough to set the whole city on fire. You barely had time to think before you were pushed up against the railing of your balcony, Logan’s rough hands already pulling at your clothes, his growl rumbling through the darkness.

“Logan, we’re—” you started, glancing down at the street below, the lights of the city glowing, people walking by completely unaware of what was about to happen. But Logan didn’t care. He wasn’t the type to give a damn about who could see or who might hear. In fact, the thought of it seemed to turn him on more.

“You worried about a little audience, sweetheart?” he rasped into your ear, his voice dripping with that familiar roughness that always sent a shiver down your spine. His hands gripped your waist, spinning you around until your chest was pressed against the cold metal railing. The city was spread out below you like a playground, and here you were, at the mercy of this feral man.

Before you could say anything, Logan’s hands were on you again, tugging at your pants, rough and impatient, and you couldn’t help but moan as he peeled them down. The cool night air hit your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat burning inside you, but you didn’t care. Not when Logan was behind you, his body pressed so close, his breath hot against your neck.

“You’re soaked already,” he growled, his hands running over your bare ass, squeezing possessively. “You like this, huh? Knowing anyone could look up and see you get fucked by me.”

You could barely respond, your mind spinning from the intensity, but your body gave him all the answers he needed. You pushed back against him, craving more, craving everything, and Logan’s low, dirty chuckle told you that he knew exactly what you wanted.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, and before you could catch your breath, he slammed his dick into you, hard and deep. The force of it made you gasp, your hands gripping the railing for dear life as Logan started moving, not caring at all who might be watching.

The way he fucked you was wild, reckless, like he couldn’t hold back anymore, and the thought of people walking below, just a glance up and they’d see you like this, only made it hotter. Logan’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you back to meet his thrusts, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air. You could barely think, barely breathe, the only thing you could focus on was the way he felt inside you, the way he owned every inch of your body.

“Goddamn, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” Logan growled, his voice rough with lust. His hands slid up your back, pushing your chest further against the railing, arching you even more so he could bury himself deeper, harder. “You love this, don’t you? Letting everyone see how good you take it.”

You moaned, your body shaking with the intensity of it all, and Logan’s pace only quickened, his cock slamming into you over and over, making sure you felt every inch of him. The thrill of being so exposed, knowing anyone could see, made it impossible to hold back, and you could feel your orgasm building fast, your body tightening around him.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasped, barely able to form words, but Logan wasn’t stopping, wasn’t slowing down. He was relentless, his hands gripping your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. But that was the last thing on your mind now.

The tension in your body snapped, and you came hard, your legs trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled in satisfaction, his hips slamming into you one last time as he chased his own release. You could feel him throbbing inside you, and then, with a deep, primal grunt, he came, filling you up as he held you tight against the railing.

For a moment, neither of you moved, just standing there, bodies pressed together, both of you trying to catch your breath. The sounds of the city below seemed distant, almost unreal, as you slowly came down from the high of it all.

Logan leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled softly. “Think anyone saw?”

Feral Obssession

Summary: Logan's animal instincts go wild when Deadpool casually mentions how often you pass by his place—now Logan needs to see for himself.

Pairing            : Worst-Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Prostitute!Fem-reader

Note                : smut, cum play, very rough sex

WORD COUNT: 3k

Logan’s been living with Wade Wilson for a while now, something that would usually drive him to stab something—or someone—on a good day. Between Wade's non-stop mouth and Blind Al’s random pranks, Logan’s patience had worn thin. But lately, it’s not Wade's annoying chatter or Blind Al’s sarcastic remarks keeping him on edge. It’s you.

Wade had mentioned you in passing more than once. Apparently, you walked past their place all the time—coming home late at night, dressed to kill, a body that turned heads wherever you went. And yeah, Wade had made some dirty joke about what you did for a living. But Logan… he couldn’t shake the image from his head. He had to see for himself.

One night, it finally happened. You walked by just as Logan was outside, smoking a cigar on the fire escape. His eyes tracked your movements automatically, almost like a predator on the hunt, drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You were in tight jeans that hugged every curve, your top clinging to your body like a second skin. Goddamn, you were something.

And the worst part? You glanced up at him, just for a second, a sly smile teasing your lips before you disappeared into your apartment across the hall. That smile. It stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in a long time—something primal, something dangerous.

Days passed, and every time you passed by, Logan’s instincts got sharper. It was like he could smell you in the air, a heady mix of perfume and something uniquely you. He tried to ignore it, to push it aside. He’d been down this road before, and it never ended well. But damn it, he couldn’t.

One evening, as Logan sat brooding with a whiskey in hand, Wade strolled in, grinning like a damn Cheshire cat.

“Hey, Peanut,” Wade started, flipping onto the couch with all the grace of a drunk cat. “You know that smokin’ hot neighbor of ours? The one with the legs for days? She asked about you today.”

Logan’s brow furrowed. “The hell’re you talking about, Wade?”

“I’m serious, man! Said she’d noticed you staring like a lovesick puppy. Thought you might want to… you know… get to know her better.” Wade waggled his eyebrows obnoxiously. “You into that kinda thing? ‘Cause I might’ve, uh… mentioned you.”

Logan felt his jaw tighten. He didn’t say anything, just shot Wade a look that could’ve peeled paint. But inside, his mind was racing. You noticed him?

“Come on, man,” Wade continued. “She’s into you. And trust me, with a body like that, she could break you in half.”

Logan grunted, trying to keep his cool. He didn’t want to talk to Wade about this, but something stirred inside him, something he couldn’t shake. Maybe it was time to stop fighting it.

Later that night, Logan found himself standing outside your door, hesitating for the briefest moment. Then, with a deep breath, he knocked.

The door swung open, and there you were. That same teasing smile played on your lips as your eyes met his.

“Logan,” you greeted smoothly, leaning against the doorframe, your voice a sultry purr. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeah, well… Wade’s a pain in the ass,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “But he wasn’t wrong about you.”

You chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “So, you’ve been watching me, huh? Thought I’d noticed those eyes of yours burning a hole through my clothes.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, and for the first time, he stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like a live wire. “Can’t help it, darlin’. You make it hard not to look.”

You bit your lip, the air thick with heat. “Wanna come in?”

The door closed behind him with a soft click. Inside, it was dimly lit, shadows dancing along the walls, but the atmosphere was anything but quiet. Logan could feel it in the air, thick with lust, desire coursing through his veins like a drug. He didn’t need to think. He didn’t need to talk. His instincts took over.

“Logan,” you whispered, stepping closer, your hands trailing up his chest. His muscles were solid beneath your touch, his breath catching just slightly. He was so controlled, so contained… but you could feel the raw power beneath the surface.

His hand caught your wrist, gentle but firm. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, dangerous but full of need.

You smirked, eyes gleaming with challenge. “I’ve been sure since I first saw you on that fire escape.”

That was all it took. In a blur of motion, Logan’s lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was overwhelming, your bodies pressed together, every touch igniting something deeper, something feral.

His hands roamed over your body, rough but skilled, like he knew exactly how to touch you. You gasped as his fingers trailed down your back, pulling you even closer. You could feel the tension in his body, the restraint, like he was holding himself back from just tearing your clothes off.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Don’t hold back.”

That was all he needed to hear. In one swift motion, he had you against the wall, his mouth hot against your neck, his breath heavy and ragged. His hands found the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, his lips trailing down your chest, leaving a burning path in their wake.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed and bit his way across your skin, his body pressing harder against yours. You could feel the hunger in him, the need, and it mirrored your own. It was like you were feeding off each other, every kiss, every touch building the tension higher and higher.

Before you knew it, you were on the bed, Logan above you, his eyes dark and wild with lust. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, like he needed you to breathe.

And then, with a growl, he gave in.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he buried himself inside you with one deep, slow thrust. The feeling was electric, your body arching against him as you gasped for air. He didn’t move at first, just stayed there, holding you close, his forehead resting against yours as he groaned low in his throat.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice thick with need.

You couldn’t respond. You could barely think. All you could feel was him—inside you, around you, filling you completely.

Logan's body moved with precision, each thrust deep and slow, making your breath hitch with every movement. His hands gripped your hips tightly, grounding him as he pressed into you, his rough palms hot against your skin. You could feel the restrained power beneath his muscles, the tension winding tighter and tighter with every second. The air was thick with lust, and you could barely focus on anything except the feeling of him inside you, your body arching up to meet his, desperate for more.

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath heavy and ragged, filled with low growls that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’,” he muttered, voice low and gravelly, but it was clear he was losing control too. His restraint was unraveling fast, and you wanted to see him give in completely.

You gasped his name, nails digging into his back as his hips moved faster, the slow burn turning into something more desperate. The feeling was overwhelming, your mind fogging over as pleasure coursed through you, and you could barely form words. But then, he stopped—just for a moment, pulling back, his breath harsh in the silence of the room.

Before you could ask what he was doing, Logan gripped your hips tighter and flipped you over onto your stomach in one swift, effortless move. You gasped, bracing yourself on your hands and knees, and before you could fully adjust, you felt his hands slide down your back, rough fingertips tracing the curve of your ass as he positioned himself behind you. The heat of his body hovered over yours, close but not quite touching, teasing you with his proximity.

Without warning, he thrust back into you, deep and rough this time, making you moan out loud. Your hands gripped the sheets as he set a rhythm, pounding into you from behind, each movement powerful and deliberate. Logan's growls became more primal, echoing in the room as his hips slapped against yours. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling your head back slightly so you could hear the rumble in his voice, feel his breath hot against your neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his words dripping with lust, each syllable punctuated by another hard thrust. The angle was deeper, rougher, and you could barely catch your breath as the pleasure intensified, building in waves that made your whole body tremble.

“Logan,” you moaned his name, unable to hold back the sounds escaping your lips. The sensation of his cock filling you over and over, the way he moved, every part of him screamed dominance, but there was something more behind it—something raw and hungry. It was like he needed you, couldn’t get enough of you, and you fed off that need.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your back. You barely had time to register the change before he was on top of you, his body pressing you into the mattress as his lips found yours again in a heated, desperate kiss. His hands roamed your body, gripping your thighs, pulling your legs up around his waist as he positioned himself over you.

Logan’s eyes locked with yours, dark and wild, filled with a kind of intensity that made your heart race. “I want you to look at me when you come,” he growled, voice thick with lust. And then, with one powerful thrust, he was inside you again, filling you completely.

This time, it was missionary, and his movements were slower, more deliberate again, but every thrust hit deeper, the angle perfect. You could feel every inch of him, the heat between your bodies overwhelming as he moved inside you. His lips found your neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there, making you gasp and arch into him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he muttered against your skin, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me.”

“Yes, Logan… God, yes,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure built again, even more intense than before.

Logan grinned against your neck, his lips trailing down to your chest, his mouth hot against your skin as his pace quickened, his hips driving into you harder now. The angle was perfect, every thrust hitting just right, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His body moved like a machine, powerful and relentless, but there was something deeply intimate about the way he looked at you, the way his hands gripped your hips, holding you close as he took you over the edge.

“Fuck, I can feel you,” he groaned, his eyes dark and locked on yours. “Come for me.”

That was all it took. Your body tensed, your nails digging into his back as the orgasm hit, waves of pleasure crashing through you, leaving you gasping for breath. Logan’s movements didn’t slow down, his hips still driving into you, prolonging your climax until you were trembling beneath him, completely spent.

Before you could catch your breath, he moved again, shifting you onto your side, your legs tangled together as he pressed against you from behind, his cock still buried deep inside you. His hand slid down your body, gripping your thigh and pulling it over his hip as he thrust into you again, this time slower, deeper, more intimate.

You moaned softly, the sensation overwhelming as he moved inside you from this new angle, his body pressed tightly against yours. His hand slid up your stomach, over your chest, fingers brushing your breasts as he held you close, his breath hot against your ear.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled, his voice rough and filled with need. “I could do this all night.”

Logan’s hand slid down your body again, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, lazy circles as he thrust into you, his pace picking up again. The sensation was too much, and before you knew it, the pressure was building again, another orgasm rising up inside you, ready to explode.

“Logan… I’m gonna…”

“I know,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again. I wanna feel you.”

And with one last thrust, you did.

Logan’s grip on your thigh tightened as you trembled beneath him, your body overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm. His pace hadn’t slowed at all, if anything, it was faster now, more primal, more needy. You could feel it in the way he grunted, the way his hands dug into your skin, like he was barely holding himself back.

“Fuck… you’re gonna make me lose it,” Logan growled, his voice so rough it almost vibrated through your body. He thrust harder, deeper, as if he was trying to pull every ounce of pleasure from you, driving you into a state where you were too lost to even think.

His hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, almost possessive in the way he gripped you. His chest was slick with sweat against your back, his breath hot in your ear, and the sheer power radiating off him made you feel small in his arms—but in the best way.

“Goddamn it…,” he muttered, and you could feel the tension in his whole body. The muscles in his arms were flexed, veins popping out as he held onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him from coming undone.

His lips brushed against your neck, biting down softly as he pushed into you one last time, deep and hard, holding himself there as a deep growl rumbled from his chest. You could feel the moment he finally gave in, the way his whole body shuddered against yours as he came, the heat of his release filling you, spilling out in hot waves.

Logan’s growl turned into a soft groan, his hips jerking slightly as the last of his control slipped away. For a moment, he didn’t move, just held you there, buried deep inside you, his breath heavy and rough in your ear. You could feel his heartbeat against your back, erratic and wild.

Slowly, his grip on you loosened, his body relaxing as the intensity of the moment began to fade. His lips found the back of your neck again, this time softer, more tender, as he let out a deep sigh, still holding you close.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “That was… fuckin' intense.”

You smiled, still trying to catch your breath, your body trembling with aftershocks. Logan finally pulled out of you, rolling onto his back beside you, his chest still rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths. His hand reached over, resting on your hip, fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as the two of you lay there, tangled in the sheets.

For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence was comfortable, the room still thick with the heat of what just happened. You could feel Logan’s eyes on you, but when you glanced over, his gaze was softer, more thoughtful.

You turned to him, smiling lazily, still feeling the afterglow of everything. “Guess Wade was right, huh?” you teased, your voice playful, but Logan just grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Fuckin' Wade,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Bastard won’t shut up about this, will he?”

You laughed, the sound light in the quiet room, and Logan’s lips curved into a small smirk. There was a softness in his expression now, the rough edges smoothed out by the aftermath of it all, but even so, there was still that unmistakable Logan—fierce, untamed, and completely irresistible.

Logan shifted beside you, pulling you closer into his chest, wrapping his arm around you like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. His warmth was comforting, and for once, you could feel the tension in him ease, as if, for now, he could just be in the moment with you.

You were still catching your breath, body limp against the sheets, when you felt Logan shift beside you.

And then, with a low, deep growl, Logan dipped his fingers into the wet heat where his cum was still dripping from you.

You shuddered, the sensation sending another jolt of pleasure through your overstimulated body. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, overwhelmed, but then you felt him lift his hand, slick with the evidence of what he’d left inside you.

He smirked, his fingers glistening with his release, and before you could say anything, he pressed them against your chest—right between your breasts. Slowly, deliberately, he smeared it across your skin, leaving a hot, wet trail in his wake. His touch was rough, teasing, and the way his eyes followed every movement made it even hotter.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice husky and low, almost like he was admiring his own handiwork. His hand slid higher, spreading the warmth across your chest, smearing his cum all over your skin, marking you with it. “Fuckin' perfect.”

Your breath hitched as he dragged his fingers down again, leaving no inch untouched. The way he moved was deliberate, slow, making sure you felt every second of it. The heat of his release mixed with the sweat already clinging to your skin, and the sight of Logan watching you, his gaze dark and possessive, only made you ache for more.

He leaned down, his mouth just barely brushing against your ear. “Mine,” he growled softly, his voice rough with need. “You’re mine.”

Naughty Secrets

Summary: Logan's quiet crush on you turns into an unexpected obsession when he finds your used underwear in your room.

Pairing            : Mutan!Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note               : masturbation, erotic obsession

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, casually sipping his beer, while you gathered your things to head out for the evening. The soft sound of your laughter echoed around the apartment, filling him with warmth. You turned to him, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?” you said, flashing a bright smile. Logan felt his heart race, a flicker of something deep within him igniting.

“Sure, no problem. Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he teased, trying to keep it light, even though his mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. You rolled your eyes playfully, waving goodbye as you headed out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, a heavy silence filled the apartment, and Logan felt the familiar pang of longing wash over him. With you gone, a potent mix of curiosity and desire consumed him. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the magnetic pull of your room. After a moment, he made his way to your door, heart racing as he pushed it open.

The room was like a shrine to you—the faint scent of your favorite perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with something more intoxicating. As Logan's eyes roamed your space, he stumbled upon a pair of your used panties tossed aside carelessly on the bed. They beckoned to him, their fabric wrinkled and stained, a testament to your absence and a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“God, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his breath hitching as he picked them up, the softness sending shivers down his spine. Bringing them closer, he inhaled deeply, the scent igniting a primal hunger within him. This is so wrong, but I can’t stop.

Thoughts of you flooded his mind—how carefree you were, how you laughed, the way your hair danced around your shoulders. But now, you were just a fantasy he couldn’t shake. “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered, gripping the fabric tighter as he sank onto the edge of your bed.

As he held the delicate material to his face, he savored the intoxicating aroma. His fingers brushed over the fabric, imagining your skin beneath it, picturing the way you moved, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching.

He growled lowly, “What would you do if you knew? Would you laugh? Would you push me away?” But he was lost in the thrill, losing himself in the fantasies swirling in his mind. “Maybe you’d want this too. Maybe you’d beg for it.”

Logan couldn't hold back any longer. He slid a hand down his body, stroking himself slowly, feeling the heat build as he lost himself in the moment. “Just one taste,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the fabric. He licked the material, tasting remnants of you, groaning at the deliciously filthy act.

With every kiss, every lick, he imagined you right there with him. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “I want to hear you moan my name, to feel you beneath me, begging for more.”

His breath quickened, and his grip tightened around himself, pleasure building as he continued to worship the very essence of you. “Just imagine the things I could do to you,” he fantasized, heart racing, pulse pounding. “I’d make you feel so good, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

The thought of your body writhing under his touch, your soft moans filling the air, sent him spiraling deeper into lust. He envisioned pressing you against the wall, feeling your warmth against him as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. “I’d show you exactly what you do to me, how much I crave you.”

Logan surrendered to the dark cravings that had been brewing for far too long, lost in a haze of desire and desperation. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, gripping your panties tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling himself teeter on the edge of madness. “You’re my secret obsession, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The line between right and wrong blurred as he surrendered to the hunger inside him, knowing he’d do anything to have you, to make you his.

POSITIONS MASTERLIST𑁍

part one: positions

part two: my hair

part three: 34+35

part four: safety net