Confession time? Here's what it was. There was a time where Logan never knew you, and there was now. He never knew what it was like to so desperately want to stay in the now, and succeed. Nightmares had lessened, and his thoughts haunted him far less. You had insisted it was because of all the work he was putting into himself, but Logan swore it was because of you.
You, with your perfect laugh that could pull his mind out of whatever it got stuck in. With your blind optimism he lost years ago, struggling to put faith into much anymore. But he had faith in you, and the X-Men. It seemed like consciously living could be worth it for a little while again.
"I'm serious," Logan's eyes followed your every move as you settled in his lap, straddling his waist. His hands found your thighs without a second thought. "It's like I'm finally living again. Like it's worth living again, and I know I have you to thank."
âYou have yourself to thank too.â You do your best to help him see the work he has done. All he saw was you with him.
His thumb softly trailed over the sensitive skin, a smile forming on his lips as he listened to your response. Credit was due, and he couldnât admit there was any to give himself. Theoretically, he knew you were right.
Logan had seen lifetimes of hate. Of war, and anger. Heâd spent more time running away from threats than heâd ever gotten to spend admiring life for what it could be. It made him cold, he knew that too. He wasnât easy to know. Yet you stayed. He didnât understand it.
âSure,â he finally responded, deeply inhaling and eyes trailing down. He wouldnât look away, and for once he didnât want to. What was there to avoid now? âBut let me thank you?â
When his eyes connected with yours again there was a jump in the rhythm of your heart. This meant something to him. You meant something to him.
His head moved forward, lips pressing a kiss on your chest just above your nightgown. And another, and another, trailing up along your neck. Logan felt he could never repay you in the way he really wanted, in the way he so deeply needed. No matter how many times you reminded him there was no need for thanks, you loved him.
His lips lingered as he kissed the corner of your lips before softly speaking. âIâve seen a lot of horrible shit, Iâve done a lot of horrible shit. Guess⊠eventually I thought thatâs all life would be. Misery.â His eyes flickered to yours again. âBut I see it now. The light at the end of the tunnel, or whatever.â
You let out a small laugh at his phrasing. âOr whatever?â
His chest vibrated with a low laugh against your palm. His hands wrapped around you, pressing against your back so he could hold you closer. He wasnât good with words and he knew it.
âYouâre making it impossible for me to really thank you, you know?â He joked, raising his eyebrows and eyes flickering to your lips.
You mirrored his grin, âOkay, okay. My apologies.â
Your hands went up in a mock defense, pleading innocence. He softly shook his head. Logan needed you to know what you meant to him, he just choked on the words. Love was never in his cards. But this was love, he knew it.
âThank you.â He finally said it, flat out. And you felt the way his body immediately relaxed with this admission.
Logan had spent his entire life running and living beneath a cloud. He forgot the way the sun looked, how it felt soaking into his skin. He had lost the right to feel the sun decades ago. His hope had died, and his search for something good in humanity had died ages ago. And you had immediately challenged that. He needed you to know how grateful he was for you, his sun.
âThank you.â He repeated, a weight lifting off of him.
You looked at him so carefully, it allowed him to soften. He was an open book for you now. You could see hope returning, and feel his weariness wash away. And, come to think of it, youâd seen it before. The way his shoulders relaxed, and that crinkle between his brows would dissipate. It happened when he looked at you. So maybe you could accept his thank you. It meant something to him.
âI love you.â You whispered. That was acceptance.
Loganâs eyes scanned yours, and he smiled when he found truth in your whisper. He chuckled and landed a quick kiss on your lips before his hand pressed firmly on you so he could adjust the both of you to be laying. It was a careful movement, hand sliding out from beneath you as he laid your back against the bed. He just needed to admire you more, thank you some more. To love you some more. That's what this feeling was. He didnât feel worthy.
âIâve done so much damage.â He whispered, eyes scanning your body to be sure you were comfortable. He was avoiding now, just as you had done with his thanks.
âAnd youâve saved countless lives.â You challenge.
He propped himself up with one arm, his free hand running up along your torso. âIâve ran away from everything in my life.â
âYouâre here, now. Thatâs enough.â Your hand cupped his cheek, grounding him.
Without thought, he kissed your palm before leaning into your touch. His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you there. He closed his eyes and stayed like that just to feel you a moment longer.
Your thumb skimmed over his cheek, giving in to whatever heâd want as he held on. âThrow it all away.â
His eyes opened, looking at you with curiosity. Your words sent some sort of immediate comfort, but he also didnât want to allow himself to fully understand them.
âIâm happy to have you. Here, now.â You knew he would avoid the topic if you didn't expand. âDespite your past, despite your running⊠youâre here with me now. For a moment, for a year, for a lifetime, or whatever.â
He chuckled as you repeated his lackluster phrase. But he listened carefully.
âYouâre here, and I love you.â You finalized your response, hoping it said enough.
Watching his lips curl into a smile, and his eyes shine with a shit eating look you knew far too well⊠you had guessed it said more than enough.
His voice spoke with ease, âI love you.â
Logan kissed the palm of your hand again, trailing kisses down your wrist and forearm before finding his origin and kissing your chest once more. His hand softly traced down your arm and he leaned his body down closer. He finally found the sun again, and it accepted him. Heâd spend the night thanking it.
Down bad for Bruce Wayne, I fear⊠have some basic thoughts :)
Because, I cannot stop thinking about the peace youâd bring to his life. Batman takes up a majority of his time and his mentality. Heâs tired, heâs busy, heâs overworked (thanks to no one but himself, and the cesspool that is Gotham). And then thereâs you. You to come home to, you to clean him up and stitch his wounds. You to assure him he was doing the right thing, and you to ground him at the end of each day. You are unbelievably good to him, to the point that he almost thinks itâs a trick or joke against him. He knows that at the end of it all, if he has nothing⊠he will have you.
He is endlessly grateful for the relationship the two of you have worked so diligently to keep. Who else would tolerate his late nights, nonexistent mornings, and constant disappearances? He didnât want it to be anyone else even if there were volunteers. No one else would be able to pull him from his endless hours of devotion to the damn bat computer, with nothing more than a quiet, âyou coming up soon?â (the answer was always âten minutesâ, just for him to make it up to you in five). Heâd do anything you asked if you said it with the perfectly soft tone, or gave him those ever so caring eyes. Because thatâs what it was about for him. You didnât look at him with fear, or pity. You never coddled him. You simply loved him, and he loved you all the more.
Just⊠some surface level thoughts from his perspective?
game night - reader accidentally calls Frank "dad" for the first time (platonic, fluff)
wrong place, wrong time - Frank helps the reader after they see something they werenât supposed to (platonic, comfort)
no big deal - reader takes a fall and gets hurt while Frank is out, heâs unaware and they end up fighting. The next morning he has to help them (angst, sort of fluff at the end)
fall weather -Â walking out with Frank in the cold (fluff)
don't go - being pregnant and afraid to tell Frank, but he finds out (sad?? not a bad end though)
Logan Howlett
daylight - been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night, now I see daylight (fluff)
summary: smut :) f!reader and just... eddie and reader being greedy
word count: ~1.1k
warnings: smut, minors dni !!!!, fingering, mentions hair pulling
a/n: i am tired and i didn't do more because blurb night
join headcanon/blurb night :)
He was grinning, unable to control himself. Eddie laid on the bed beside you, fingers holding onto your plush waist. Kisses were finding homes on your skin. Your shoulder, your spine, your lower back.
âEd, câmon.â You giggled, turning around onto your back. âI just got here, youâre really gonna be this way again?â
His chest pressed into your side, reaching to give you another kiss in hopes that you might return his affections. He was warm, he was always so warm.
âWhatâd you mean?â His eyes sparkled, youâd damn him for that.
âI mean,â you kissed his nose, âyouâre just gonna be horny right off the bat?â
âBabe, darling, sweetie, lover," he laughed as you cringed at the last name. "I was horny before you got here.â Heâd still give you credit, âJust been so excited to see you, feels like a lifetime since I saw you last, even longer since I've felt you.â
Eddie was kissing you again, one after the other, tongue pressing into your skin between his lips. The tips of his fingers left a tingling sensation on your jawline, hand settling to hold your cheek and lift your eyes into clearer view.
He licked his lips and tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth, lazily looking into your eyes, searching for a mutual desperation in them. Your cheeks burned as his eyes flicked around. What thoughts did he keep sealed in that terrible mind of his?
You questioned, âWhat? The sex last night was no good? Two hours in, Ed, there was nothing in the world that could stop you. That wasn't enough?"
âWhat can I say?" He half shrugged, rolling his eyes, "You drive me wild."
You laughed, he kissed the creases that pressed into your cheek. His eyes fluttered shut, and you now saw the bags beneath them.
You figured he only got a few hours of sleep, having not snuck out of your place until 3am while ranting on about how he finally came up with the perfect lyrics for his latest work. Finishing the damn song was probably the reason he finally showed you a bit of mercy.
âYou didn't like it? You don't wanna do it again?" He lifted himself above you, kissing down your neck and scraping his teeth along your collarbones. âYou seemed so into it. Calling out my name, tugging on my hair so harshly as I paid you a favor."
Your head pressed into the bed, hot breath ghosting through your lips. Eddie tugged the collar of your shirt down with one finger, looking up at you through his lashes before going to place a hickey just above your right breast. He was grinding himself against your abdomen now, you could feel the bulge in his pants against you.Â
âI was being so kind,â he kissed the fresh bruise. âYouâre being ungrateful.â
âOh,â you scoffed, âyou were so kind when you dashed out immediately after. âGotta get those lyrics down before it slipsâ.â Your tone was mocking, but playful. You were trying to test him, Eddie didnât want to take the joke.
âYouâre so fucking greedy,â his fingers swiped beneath your sleeves, sliding your bra strap off your shoulders. âAccusing me of being a certain way? Listen to yourself, complaining that it didnât go on for longer? But Iâm the one that canât get enough?â
His left hand delve beneath your shirt, scooping down the cup of your bra and massaging. The weight of his hips pinned down on you, his dick was pressed entirely against your thigh. You shouldâve reached down when you had the chance, this was all his call now.
Eddie quickly moved himself off you, tugging you to the edge of the bed and hanging above. Your breath caught in your throat, looking down as he trailed wet kisses from the edge of your bra to the hem of your pants. You could finally see the fabric at the crotch of his pants being stretched tightly. Just get to the point for the both of us.
âI guess you were right, sweetheart,â Eddie laughed bitterly. âI canât seem to get enough of you. Make me so fuckinâ weak.â
He licked his lips, unbuttoning your pants and trailing a finger across the hem of your panties. Your head fell back to the bed, chest rising as you anticipated his touch. You could feel him watching for every little reaction. It wasnât a lie, he really couldnât get enough of you.
âWhatever the lady wants, right?â His hand finally dipped under the cloth, cupping your bare folds.Â
You sucked in a breath, it felt so shameful to have such simple pressure feel so damn relieving.Â
âCan you just fuck me already, I know you want it just as much.â Your eyes squeezed shut.
Eddie laughed, âYou sure?â His hand began to move, two middle fingers stroking circles against your clit. âI kinda think you want it more. I mean, shit, feel how fuckinâ wet you already are.â
Biting your lip, your fists squeezed the blanket beneath you as Eddie put two fingers inside you, no warning. He smiled at his work, holding himself up on his elbow. You moved your hips with his fingers, so desperate for more.
âWhat? No hair pulling this time? Not good enough?â He was teasing.
âShut the fuck up,â you muttered messily, he snickered.
Eddie slid his fingers in and out of your slick pussy. His thumb was applying pressure and motion to your clit, he got excited at the thought of how sticky youâd be when he pulled away.Â
He took in a deep breath, kissing your stomach gently as you moved with him. His fingers curled, and your back arched. He put pressure into your throbbing core, your legs clenched and put pressure on his grip. He was too good at this, at fucking you. He knew you too damn well, you always just melted beneath his touch.
You couldnât believe how intoxicated he made you so quickly, and with his fucking figners? Your cheek pressed into the bed, trying to hide what little shame you could have at this point. Eddie grinned to himself, proud of how easily you shuddered at his touch.Â
His free hand grazed along your side before he pressed his hand into the soft skin, âGuess this is why I give into your greed every time, so fucking hot.â
âEddie, please,â you whispered.
Eddieâs hand left you, along with a deep breath. Whyâd he stop?Â
Your eyes snapped open, watching as he pushed his weight back onto his knees.
âCome on Eddie, what the fuck?â You groaned, propping yourself up. âWhat was that about giving into my greed?â You were both so greedy.
âCool it, sweetheart,â he chuckled deeply, tugging your pants down. âIâm just trying to get to the next part here.â
I would love to have a headcanon type of thing for Eddie, maybe something super fluffy and domestic?
omg yes!! i wrote more for this than usual and i'm doing away with the small text for headcanons <3
join headcanon/blurb night :)
i'm picturing just day to day life with him
going to the store together, eddie being so childish. he would be putting every little thing in the cart, you'd be putting it all back on the shelf. you'd know when he really wanted something because he'd snap his fingers and poke out his tongue. looking at you with wide eyes, "you see this? can't live without it." he would literally be talking about a bag of doritos. he would also do shit like skip around, dance and sing along to the music, run then jump and ride the cart down the aisle. "check it out, babe!" he'd be bouncing towards you, cans in hand, "found the beans, where's my kiss?" because everything would come with a price, the price would always be a kiss.
and cleaning together? dishes, eddie would smack your ass with a towel and flick bubbles at you. laundry, he would hold your underwear up in the air and be giggling to tease. wearing his shirts/boxers around the house during lazy days would make him so much more hands on and his eyes would glued to you practically all day. "you just look so cute in my shit, how'm I supposed to do anything but look at you?"
showering together ! a lot of the time you'd be in the shower first and he would slip in behind you. one hand on your shoulder, the other he's using to slowly trace down your arm. kissing slowly along your neck he would grin, "you look so good soaking in front of me." a laugh would escape your lips, turning to brush his hair off his shoulders and pulling him under the water, "wash your mop, lover boy." washing one another's hair from time to time, his fingers gently massaging your scalp. your back would be turned to him, leaning your head back with a contempt sigh as he scrubbed.
and, as many have said and many are right, he would shake his hair out like a wet dog after the shower, a huge smile on his face. his dangling bangs would be pressed between both of your foreheads, he'd loop a towel around your waist and pull you in, "just so cold now, you've gotta warm me up." he would smother you with kisses, you'd be uncontrollably laughing, "can we at least get some clothes on before you start being ornery again?" he'd smile and scrunch his nose and joke, "we can have so much more fun without though" he'd kiss you again.
Once, as a half joke half serious statement, on an evening during which Eddie knew Wayne was home, he walked in to the trailer after Hellfire and called out a,
"Dad! I'm home!"
And without missing a fucking beat, Wayne stuck his head out of the bathroom with a fond smile and said, "hey, kid! Good day? Dinner's on the side."
Eddie stood there in the doorway of the trailer, all big brown doe eyes welling up with tears, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took some steadying breaths. "Oh, fuck, man." He laughed his tears away, trying to shove his vulnerability behind the mask of his reputation, but the way Wayne almost literally dropped what he was doing to go and give Eddie a comforting hug said everything they didn't need to find the words for.
They just knew.
After that, Eddie greeted Wayne that way on nights he knew his Uncle was home and during other times, he reserved calling Wayne 'dad' for when he most needed comfort and it became almost code for 'I Really Need You' and Wayne stepped up to the plate with no hesitations or even thought; instinctively, he cared for Eddie with murmurs of, "you're my boy".
The inflexion on the word 'my' was never missed by Eddie and he always expressed his gratitude by squeezing Wayne just a little harder.
The higher you fly, the lower you sink, but Wayne was there at every rise and fall, with open arms and listening ears and a place for Eddie to call home. No other word would do.
Munson family tags @hellfirebabe @eddiemunsonshoney @alliecheer007-88 missfangirl-slightly-obsessive @bakerstreethound @gemstone-roses @sweetpeapod
stop being so good at writing you make me fall in love with eddie all over again bro T^T âĄ
why should i?? eddie is so cute??? i want to give him kisses???? (ily zerođ)
thinking about sleepy eddie!
heâs a night owl, but he swears up and down that he just ânever fucking sleepsâ. on the weekends he crashes at like 5am and doesnât wake up until 1pm. he literally takes hour long naps at least once a day, sometimes the naps would be longer. i think in part heâd stay up to get to talk to wayne if he had been working days, but also heâs just a hell beast. and youâre dead fucking wrong if you think he wouldnât drag you into his shitty sleep schedule sometimes. and there would be times where his body would just be so done with him, his sleep pattern becoming too irregular. heâd be fighting for his life to stay awake, âiâm so not tired that i donât even knowâknow what tired means. i mean, what hell do i look like? a toddler at nap time?â his eyes would hardly be open, he wouldnât even be able to hold his head up anymore.
eddie would be so touchy when he was tired too, and i donât know how intentional it would be. "can never get enough of you, y'know?" he would be pressed deeply into your side, one hand holding one of yours, the other hand continuously playing with your hair. you would be trying to convince him to just go the fuck to sleep, "ed, you can barely form sentences now, it's time to just sleep" which he would widen his eyes to prove he wasn't tired, "if you're tired you jus' say so, hmm?" and eddie would proceed to spend the next ten minutes that you're the one that was tired, "s'okay, you're so tired, sweetheart. lemme hold you, we'll sleep." this would be at 9pm by the way. and he absolutely would then entirely wrap his entire body around you, pinning you with your back against the bed with his torso. his lips lazily kiss your neck before he mumbles "night, sweetheart" and just clocks out trapping you there.
the times his body is so tired, but his naps are so short from never being able to sleep for more than a few hours, at that point the concept of time is lost to him.
youâll be in the kitchen probably making something letting eddie take a nap only to hear him groggily walk over, âgood morning sweatheart,â wrapping his arms around you and leaning some of his weight against your back because heâs still half asleep.
you correct him, âeddie its 7pm,â giggling a bit when he scrunches his nose and slowly blinks in confusion because he couldâve sworn he slept a full twelve hours, but no it only just got dark, the evening barely starting.
either way itâs no problem for him because all he does is drag you back to bed and lays on top of you, head in your chest. heâs enjoying the warmth of your bodies as your heartbeat lulls him to sleep
stop being so good at writing you make me fall in love with eddie all over again bro T^T âĄ
why should i?? eddie is so cute??? i want to give him kisses???? (ily zerođ)
thinking about sleepy eddie!
heâs a night owl, but he swears up and down that he just ânever fucking sleepsâ. on the weekends he crashes at like 5am and doesnât wake up until 1pm. he literally takes hour long naps at least once a day, sometimes the naps would be longer. i think in part heâd stay up to get to talk to wayne if he had been working days, but also heâs just a hell beast. and youâre dead fucking wrong if you think he wouldnât drag you into his shitty sleep schedule sometimes. and there would be times where his body would just be so done with him, his sleep pattern becoming too irregular. heâd be fighting for his life to stay awake, âiâm so not tired that i donât even knowâknow what tired means. i mean, what hell do i look like? a toddler at nap time?â his eyes would hardly be open, he wouldnât even be able to hold his head up anymore.
eddie would be so touchy when he was tired too, and i donât know how intentional it would be. "can never get enough of you, y'know?" he would be pressed deeply into your side, one hand holding one of yours, the other hand continuously playing with your hair. you would be trying to convince him to just go the fuck to sleep, "ed, you can barely form sentences now, it's time to just sleep" which he would widen his eyes to prove he wasn't tired, "if you're tired you jus' say so, hmm?" and eddie would proceed to spend the next ten minutes that you're the one that was tired, "s'okay, you're so tired, sweetheart. lemme hold you, we'll sleep." this would be at 9pm by the way. and he absolutely would then entirely wrap his entire body around you, pinning you with your back against the bed with his torso. his lips lazily kiss your neck before he mumbles "night, sweetheart" and just clocks out trapping you there.
so we all know that eddie knows heâs pretty, right?
becauseâŠ. he just does. thereâs literally no denying it, look at how he carries himself. and, while he does know heâs pretty, it doesnât mean he doesnât like hearing you say just how pretty he is. âto be loved by you is the thing i cherish most, but to be complimented by you is the thing that i adore.â also, for the longest time, he denied that he was "pretty" but rather... charming, handsome, gorgeous. eventually, you convinced him of the simplicity of the word holding a deeper meaning. so now, that he really knows he is pretty, he is insufferable.
"you really think I'm pretty?" he'd blink up at you, a pathetic glare over his eyes but a devilish grin on his lips. you'd roll your eyes, "as if you need me to remind you." "no, but please remind me," he'd kiss you, gripping your jaw softly. "remind me how pretty i am when we wake up in the mornings, and you're watching a campaign. remind me when i'm holding you in my arms, and when you're washing my hair." he knows he's pretty, but he just loves the ego boost of hearing you say it.
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