Yo wassup, I'm Evie or Eve or really whatever. It's just a nickname, I've got plenty so I'm not picky. As long as it's not disrespectful I usually won't care.
I'm dyslexic so there may be some odd spelling or grammar things, my apologies. I catch a lot of them because I have a pretty thorough editing process but I'm still human. If you see them you can always leave a comment about it and I'll fix it as soon as I can.
I've been on tumblr a year (since 2024ish) but only reposting and vibing, this is my first attempt actually posting anything. I've actually been writing fanfic since I was in middle school and I started the 39 Clues series but it has always been for myself and always on paper. This year I got super into the Xmen trilogy and started typing fanfiction for the first time ever which is what gave me the confidence to do this.
I am a college student (who's currently drowning in assignments) so if I go offline for long periods of time, it's safe to assume that's why. I want to use this as an outlet and just to keep my writing skills up when I have the time. That being said I'm super open to requests and ideas. So:
Requests:
I will NOT write: rape; incest; anything scat, vomit, or urine (sorry, I have to deal with bodily fluids enough at work I refuse to write about it)
There are other things I won't write but those fall into two categories:
1. There is wiggle room. For example, I don't like age gaps but if I like the prompt I might modify the request slightly to be something I'm comfortable with like keeping the gap the same but aging up both characters.
2. Other things are specific to my own stuff that I don't think I could fully articulate without explaining and I don't owe strangers on the internet explainations. For example, if I can help it I will not be under the influence of substances (for personal reasons) although, I'm okay with writing a character being under the influence of alcohol or weed or whatever BUT I won't write it if you (the requester) doesn't tell me what to include. Like symptoms, feelings, vibes, etc.
That being said, if you have a request, send it in! If I don't like it, then I won't write it. That simple. I am typically open to writing new things and if I need more direction, I'll ask for it or guess.
Fandoms/things I'll write for:
This isn't an exhaustive list, just what's on the top of my head/what I'm most passionate about. Please feel free to ask about other media as this list may not be updated or it might be something I forgot
-Xmen trilogy specifically Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Scott Summers
-Avengers
-The Mentalist
-House MD
-Batman/DC specifically Dr. Crane, Batman, any of the Robins, Superman
-NBC's Hannibal specifically Matthew Brown
-The spiderverse specifically Miguel O'Hara
-Detroit become human
-Spider-Man
-Streamers/Youtubers specifically Jschlatt, Ted Nivison, Charlie Slimesicle, Hassan Piker
-Dexter specifically Debra Morgan, Miguel Prado, Rudy Cooper, Joey Quinn
-Prodigal son
-Daredevil specifically Frank Castle, Matt Murdock, Electra, Foggy Nelson
I will make a masterlist when I figure out how. Uhhhh I think that's all. Again, if I do something wrong either socially or setting up my blog or the writings themselves, please don't hesitate to tell me. Thanks!
Okay so I've been working on this Superman x apartment neighbor smut piece for like a week (because I'm apartment hunting for the first time and moving and so I was channeling that nervous energy) and there is one specific apartment that checks all of my boxes. Super excited I'm calling about it first thing when they open. And I'm still super excited about this apartment, really hope I get it, but it completely turned me off of this fic when I found out one of my cousins lives in those apartments.
We only ever see each other at our grandparents house and he's like 15 years older than me so we don't exactly hang out. Hence why I was unaware. And from a living situation standpoint, I'm stoked! I'll have someone I know in the same building that I can force to help me with management or giving me insider info. But for some reason it has completely killed this fic. And it's so dumb. Because this isn't real, it's a fic. In this fictional world it is the reader, not me. And it's my world so I can just say reader knows no one else in the building, it's part of the main plot in fact! But still it weirds me out. And I wasn't even picturing this building when I'm envisioning the world so it's extra dumb.
I do like this fic idea so I think I'll just power through it. But this has been a weird experience navigating these feelings.
Clark Kent, the humble, nerdy journalist, finds himself dating a local detective who isn't so receptive of Superman. Clark hears her #get stabbed while in the field he hurries her to a hospital. Even in and out of consciousness you can't help but recognize the familiar smell of your boyfriend and the similarities only build from there.
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Injured reader. Gaslighting if you squint I guess. Just fluffy overall
You’re good at your job. Always have been. You’re safe and protective but there’s a reason you signed up to show up after all the action rather than being in the middle of it. No doubt you can handle yourself but, in your eyes, it’s just better when you don't have to. Your caution has always paid off but with your district being short staffed, you’ve ended up investigating a lead without a partner. It was supposedly a now abandoned meeting place; unfortunately, no one told that to the criminal that showed up while you were poking around his stuff. A short chase through an alley ends with his blade in your abdomen, made worse when he decided to take it with him as he fled the scene. A waterfall of blood flows from the wound as you radio to headquarters. You barely hear their words of response as the corners of your vision darken and you start to sink down against the grimy wall behind you.
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“I'm finee.. I don't need youur helpp.” Your slightly slurred speech and feeble attempts to push Superman away did nothing to reassure him of your claim; your hands weakly pushing at his chest. “Just- go awayy..” The blood loss was clearly getting to you but, you're nothing if not a fighter. Clark is well aware of that. Always has been. It’s a trait he loves about you, your willingness to fight for what you want and hold your ground on everything that is important to you. Although, right now he could do without it. “Sweet-” he cleared his throat, catching his mistake “Ma’am. I'm going to bring you to a hospital so they can take care of you, alright?” “I radioedd backup already, they'll- they’ll bring me to a hospital.. Go find someee-one else to.. to save.” He sighed then spoke again as he carefully scooped you up, “There isn't anyone else who needs saving right now, it's your turn. If I let you wait for your team, you’ll bleed out here and that doesn't help anyone.” Your arms easily slip around his neck when you're lifted into his arms, the muscle memory starting to kick in. In your head, it feels like everything is distant but through the fog you smell something familiar. You hardly notice that you're flying above the city, you're too busy thinking about why Superman smells familiar. Before any dots can connect you're carefully placed in a hospital wheelchair being rolled into the ER, no Superman in sight.
After they stop the bleeding and transfuse a unit, it doesn't take long for you to come back to yourself. Of course Clark visits you in the hospital but with each of your busy schedules PLUS trying to recover, it just wasn't the same as being at home. When the day finally comes and at last you’re released, you do what you've been most looking forward to (showering then) getting to cuddle up to your big warm boyfriend. It isn't until your face is buried in his neck again that you remember earlier in the week, when you recognized the smell of Superman. You pull back to look at Clark. There it was, on your boyfriend who's wearing a T-shirt in your bed. Your Clark with his work notes shuffled into a pile, pushed aside in favor of holding you when you joined him in bed. Your Clark with his nerdy glasses and his passion for journalism. Your Clark who's in suspiciously good shape for someone who didn't frequent the gym.. but that's just because he spends his summer and autumn weekends helping on the Kent family farm, right? It's just a coincidence. Of course your very own Clark Kent is not Superman. “Everything okay?” You shook the thoughts from your mind. “Yeah.” A quick nod. “I just missed you.” Your lips met his and you squished yourself back into him. He pulls away just enough to whisper back “Missed you more. ‘M glad you're okay” his comments muffled as he spoke them against your neck.
You let it go. Put the thought completely out of your mind. Forgot about it completely in fact! Months pass before you're so rudely brought back to the absurd idea that Clark Kent could in any way be Superman. But the thought nagged at you as you lie alone, feeling the cold sheets where Clark should’ve been. It's been 30 minutes since he said he'd be ‘right back’ before leaving without further explanation. The thought sticks in your mind like a sliver. It keeps nagging at you to check the TV, the radio, a news website. Something reporting on world events. Maybe 15 minutes ago you were strong-willed enough to ignore the idea.. but waiting in the dark silence of your bedroom this early in the morning was wearing away at your strength. A resigned sigh leaves your chest as you reach for your cell phone. ‘This is so stupid, I don't even know why I'm entertaining this.’ You think to yourself, opening a search engine. Your fingers tap away at the screen, looking up ‘world events' and filtering results to the last hour. And sure enough. There he was. A blue and red blur as he helped people in a far away town where a wild fire raged on. You click through several videos, skimming them for glimpses of Superman before you hear the front door to your apartment open and close. Then the soft, dull sound of footsteps towards your bedroom door. You half expected a uniformed Superman to walk through. Instead, it's Clark. Still in his soft pajama pants and an old T-shirt. Exactly how he left. “I'm surprised you're still up.” He says softly while climbing back into bed. You return your phone to your nightstand then turn back to him, getting comfortable and nestling back into him. You try not to notice how his skin still holds a slight chill from the night air. “Couldn't fall back asleep.” You wait a beat before asking your next question. “You’re cold. Where’d you go?” You attempt to sound casual but a hint of allegation slips in. “Oh! Just for a walk. I was getting too warm, it was making it hard to sleep. I’m sorry I was gone so long, guess I walked further than I meant to.” Clark explained. You couldn't tell if his tone was conveying nervousness or embarrassment. You choose to believe it was just another coincidence. Your boyfriend Clark was on a walk in Metropolis and now he's back with you. Superman is still out there putting out fires and rescuing people from burning buildings. You choose to brush aside the faintest scent of smoke lingering on his skin; he must have walked near someone with a cigarette. That's all it was.
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Another few weeks came and went, your little theory admittedly nagged at your mind but it's not like there's any weight to it. You keep playing this game with yourself. Pushing down all the little things; how fast he moved when protecting you from a car swerving up onto the curb; how he seemed to perk up out of nowhere before making a lame excuse to leave your sight for a while; how the deep scratches from your nails on his back never seemed to leave a trace, no matter how rough you were. All little coincidences. Until Superman did an interview.. with Clark himself. He didn't come home and tell you about it or make you guess who he got to talk to like he did with some of the other high profile sources. It was simply a footnote he threw in while writing an outline for an article that would be in the paper the following day. Just nonchalantly dropped along with the rest of his day while you both worked at the table after dinner. “-oh yeah! And I want to get at least my outline done on my Superman story.” Your heart dropped a little at the mention of the hero. Your mind quickly flashing back to all the incriminating moments pointing you towards a conclusion you choose not to face. “What are you writing about Superman?” The tension beneath your casual sounding words isn't detected by your boyfriend’s perceptive ears. “I got to interview him this morning. It was neat, he's a good guy.” You shift to sit up more straight with a questioning look on your face. “You met Superman today?” “Well. I've met him before.. He did an exclusive interview with me last year too. I think the guy just likes to keep up his image with the press..” Clark gets more quiet as he trails off. “But you met him. Today. And you didn't lead with that?” Your inquisitive tone is now interwoven with a humorous one as a smile creeps onto your face. “You know how it is, you get busy! It happened this morning.” His tone is defensive and he throws his hands up innocently. “Oh sure, I mean who would expect you to remember all that time ago.” Your statement dripping with sarcasm. “What did you talk with him about?” “Read my article tomorrow and you can find out.” “You know I read your pieces. I just meant an overview.” “Clarifying his thoughts on some current issues mostly. There's been some stuff online that he wanted to clear up.” You lean back in your chair and cross your arms. Your eyes scan his expression and body language. “Oh. My. God.” Barely above a whisper, said mostly to yourself. The thoughts that have been building up were finally overflowing as the accusation slipped from your lips. “You’re Superman.” “What?! How could I be Superman? Baby I'm here or I'm at work. When would I have the time?” He keeps a mostly calm surface, stating his defenses more like practiced lines than truths delivered in the moment. Your eyes are narrowed at him while he waits for an answer that you have no intention of giving him. It's almost a full minute of silent processing before you decide how to proceed. He expected you to raise your voice, bring up all the times he'd slipped up or had to leave without a believable excuse. Expected to feel like a guilty man on trial. Expected you to fight him on every little thing. That he was prepared for. That, he believed, he was ready to handle. Instead, a possibility he hadn't foreseen, you let out a soft sigh and shook your head. A hand covered part of your face, fingers smoothing over your brow as you almost laughed to yourself. “You know- all of my work can wait until tomorrow. I think I should just get more sleep.” You went to swiftly kiss him goodnight then gathered your papers into your folder and walked towards the shared bedroom. A pit of guilt began to sink in his chest. He figured this conversation would have to happen eventually but it's becoming less and less like he imagined. His hands move to cover his face, elbows braced on the table, and he breathes out a long sigh before continuing his work.
He finishes up and gets brave enough to face you again, still hoping you're asleep so he doesn't have to lie to you again. He slides into bed and feels you move to be closer to him, putting an arm across his chest. He pulls you snuggly into himself. You each enjoy the warmth of each other. You think this must be the end of it; you let your little conspiracy theory slip to Clark and now he thinks his girlfriend has lost it. Embarrassment runs through you and you keep your fingers crossed that he doesn't bring it up again. ‘Maybe he'll just think it was an off day, or a weird joke, or anything other than what it was.’ You press your face into his body, wanting to disappear.
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The bed is cold. You're alone. You breathe a sigh into your pillow before getting up. You start your day the same as you would if he was here. He hadn't left a note so you assume he must be coming back soon. It wasn't often that he left without any warning but just often enough to stir up that crazy theory. In an effort to empty your mind, you sit at the table, warm mug in hand. You face the balcony, admiring all of your plants. You let yourself sit there for a while. Sipping and focusing on your breathing. You hadn't realized you zoned out until a blue wall of muscle waved at you through the glass door. That snapped you out of it. ‘What the fuck? Did Clark invite him over during his interview? Did he decide he had more to say? How does he know where we live? Why didn't he use the front door like everyone else? I mean just because you can fly doesn't mean you have to go barging-’ Superman gently knocks on the glass, snapping you out of a second trance in one minute. You scramble to open the door, he steps back to the other side of the balcony and you step out, leaving the door open behind you. The cool morning air feels good against your skin. “Hello ma’am!” Superman said to you, mixing politeness and excitement. “Uh hi. Clark isn't here right now; I'm actually not sure where he is, he kind of just disappeared on me- but if you have something else you want in his article or something, I can pass that along.” The sleep in your voice shows in your low tone and slow rhythm. Superman still looks at you intently. Hanging onto every word. You avoid his eyes, opting to look more closely at all of your plants and the smaller details of his suit that pictures couldn't quite capture. “I actually wanted to talk to you- if that's alright! I just.. please look at me.” He takes a half step closer and you force your eyes to his. The bright blue that stares back at you feels like it's looking in the deepest parts of you. You open your mouth to ask what Superman could possibly want to talk with you about but the words don't form. Stopped by the recognition in his eyes. You step closer. His stance is taller, shoulders confidently pulled back. Head held high despite being angled slightly down to look at you. His curls were styled a little differently but his face was the same. Everything clicked too well. It was worth seeming crazy again, you decided. With narrow eyes you cautiously ask, “Clark?” The smirk that forms shows off his dimples. “Maybe. What gave me away?” You lightly hit his chest, “I can't believe you lied to me!! You made me feel like I was losing my mind.” Mixed feelings swirled in your chest. “I wanted to tell you! I didn't know how you'd react.” His arms move smoothly around your waist. “But I’m serious, how’d you know?” You experimentally put your hands on his well-built chest, tracing the symbol prominently displayed on his chest. “I recognized the way you smell, you big jerk.” You brought your hands up, bringing your fingers up to travel the edge of his collar. You fold your hands behind his head. “That's when I started thinking about it. Since then it's been a lot of little things.” “But we're okay? This is okay?” Superman's confidence cracks a little, Clark's shy nature just peaking through. You nod. “I wouldn't change a thing about you, Clark Kent.”
Guys I graduated, passed my exams (#board certified), and I'm working my big girl job; you know what that means? I finally have time to start, as the youth would say, tumblrmaxing
Logan Howlett x Reader with injury related memory loss
Word count: 1.8K
A/N: Last part! It’s short and sweet, nothing big or groundbreaking but I wanted a happy ending :)
Warnings: a combination of angst and fluff (mostly fluff), feminine reader (called Logan’s wife and she/her pronouns)
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You wake up and stretch. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. You look over at Logan. He lays on his back, snoring quietly. You smile to yourself when you see him, he’s so relaxed. The sight of him makes you realize what was different. You remember. You recognize the man sleeping next to you, you know him. The realization of everything hit you all at once. You knew how and when you met and how abrasive he was when you first met, you remember the arguments and disagreements and snippy comments. You remember how smug he'd get after he was proved right and how he'd storm off when he was proved wrong. You remember when your sweet kindness wore away at his tough guy act and he admitted he was in love with you. You remember your first date and the one after that and after that. You remembered every bouquet, first mostly roses but the more he got to know you, the more he'd bring you your favorite flowers. You appreciated anything he gave you but the wildflowers, either found from missions or on walks through the woods or nearby fields, were especially important to you. You remembered every drive filled with music as he drove the two of you somewhere more private than the mansion. You remembered every quiet night spend in his room; huddled up underneath the blankets, watching movies or.. not really watching movies. You remember buying and moving into the home that you found yourself in now. How, soon after, you got married at the courthouse without letting the team know. You remember years later when friends found out about the private wedding and all but forced you to have a ceremony that they could attend. You remember the first time a student asked about Professor Howlett and why he was always in your classroom. The first time a student caught you kissing in the hall between classes. The first time you actually felt yourself blush when a student accused you of being in love with another professor and you unconsciously played with your wedding ring when you answered. You're not sure if you remember everything but you remember enough, you remember him.
You look at him still peacefully sleeping, unaware of the major shift that's happened without him. You quietly get up, brushing your teeth and getting water. You get ready as quietly as usual but part of you wishes that as you mentally weigh the pros and cons of waking him up to tell him, his heightened senses would hear the running water or the quiet creeks from the floor and you wouldn’t need to make a decision. No such luck. You are stuck debating yourself about waking him. On one hand, he doesn't always sleep well and you'll remember just as much after he wakes up on his own so you should let him keep sleeping. On the other hand you know him and you know he'd want you to wake him. And you really wanted to tell him. You made up your mind. You get back in bed and carefully move to lay on his chest. You hold his face as you kiss him slowly at first but full of passion. He wakes up to your lips on his and kisses you back, confused but not upset.
He pulls away, looking for answers
"Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"
"Nope." you go back to his lips but he promptly pulls away again, pushing back on your shoulder.
He laughs a little, still confused and dazed from sleep.
"Then why are you kissing me? It’s a little early to-"
"Stop talking Logan-"
He pushes you back and holds you slightly away from himself until you stop pushing back, relaxing at the distance he held you at. He’s confused by your sunny expression.
"Hey. Talk to me. Tell me what happened? Did you.. remember something?" He sounds almost scared to ask.
You nod and smile.
"I remember you, you dork now stop being a boyscout and kiss me, will you?"
He studies your face, scared to believe what you're saying.
"Prove it."
"Why would I lie-"
"Okay.. tell me how I proposed."
You sigh and settle on his chest.
"You made an assignment for your class where you show the history of a part of your own life. For the example video, you made the history of our relationship and had us recreate our best memories. We recreated a hike to a spot we went when we went camping one time and got lost, found this totally cool cliff, and we watched the sunrise."
He’s heard enough to certify you really do remember him. He sits up slightly and lays a hand on your lower back then leans in towards your face. You put your hand between you. "Nuh uh- you asked for the story, I'm making you sit through the whole story. And I'm telling it the way I want." You said it with an attitude he hadn't seen while you had been injured.
He signed and sat back, "I did this to myself, didn't I?" He motions for you to continue.
"As I was saying. We recreated the memory, we made the same hike up the same “wrong” trail. Stayed the night in that same crappy tent and got up before the sunrise. Which I really got the short end of the stick because you are in no way a morning person, not to mention how you barely slept. I knew you didn't sleep because everytime I woke up I could feel your hand softly running up and down my back. And you knew what I was going to say! You had to have known what I was going to say, and you were still so anxious. It's kinda cute looking back. But anyways, we were thinking of shots we could get, you told me just to look out to the sunset and you'd get one of me turning around to look at you and smiling and looking happy or whatever and when I turned around you were on one knee. Happy?"
"Very-"
You both gave in and happily met each other in the space between you.
As Logan pulled back to breathe, his forehead rested on yours. “God, I missed you” he softly breathed out.
You return a quiet laugh as you sit back to see him, “I was never really gone Lo”
‘Lo’ he smiled at hearing the nickname making him realize how much he missed it. He missed your music taking over the kitchen while doing food prep. He missed you scolding him for putting things in the wrong drawer. He missed the little knowing smile you'd give him when you passed each other in the busy halls at the school. He missed the familiar feel of your practiced touch following the same paths up his body after a long day. He just missed you, being yourself.
“Still wasn't the same.”
“It might not be for a while yet, I don't remember everything.”
“You’ll get there. You remember us, that's something.”
“Yeah..” You traced shapes onto his shoulder. “It feels like it just clicked into place. I don't think I remember everything but I've got most of it down. It's like slotting in a puzzle piece, the picture isn't quite finished yet but I can tell what the image is.”
“You'll figure it out baby, I'm not worried.” His hand comfortingly ran back and forth across your back, his warmth reinforcing his reassurance.
“Me neither. It's just weird. I don't know how to know when I remembered everything. You know? How will I know when I'm really myself again?”
“I know it's hard but like you said, you never really stopped being you. This week has just been a look back to who you were. Everyday I see you become more familiar.”
“But I felt like I was myself before too. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even know what was different.” Your eyebrows knit together in distress.
“Don't look so worried, I'm not goin anywhere doll.” You realized and relaxed your face.
“Lucky me,” you nuzzled your face against him. You stayed together in the comfortable warmth until your thoughts roamed to earlier conversations.
“You're such an idiot for thinking I'd still be mad at you.”
“Well I'm your idiot..” he tried to joke before defending his logic. “and we were fighting the last time we really talked. It didn't feel like that much of a leap.”
“We were both overtired and stressed. It was just a dumb fight. We both should have listened to each other better. It is what it is. It just feels like it matters less now.”
“Yeah and next time- I'll just sleep on the couch.”
You laugh, “Deal.”
He waits a beat before continuing, “How sore are you from yesterday?”
“Not too bad. Pain meds dull everything anyways but you were a lot more gentle with me.” You smirk at him as you say it.
“Yeah you’re hurt, I don’t want to do anything to make it worse.”
“Yeah I know, you big softie!” You ruffle his hair as you say it.
“I am not.” He murmurs, looking unimpressed.
“You totally are. You are a big, softhearted romantic who took over a week off of work to stay home with his wife.” Continuing your teasing.
“Yeah because my poor, sick wife will get herself into trouble if I’m not here to look after her-” Now he bites back a smile, trying to keep up his serious look.
“Oh wait- more like two weeks! You didn’t leave when I was in the hospital! I could leak this information to the press, you know. Then you’d finally be exposed as the sweet loverboy you really are!” Your tone is playful as you adjust yourself a little closer to him as you speak.
“Oh no, I can’t have that. Please I’ll do anything you want, just as long as you don’t expose my secrets.” His voice is deep and monotone as he plays along, pretending not to like it.
“Hmm tempting offer. I think for now I’ll just make you stay here and keep me warm.”
You rest your head on his shoulder again and his arms wrap themselves tight around your midsection; just holding each other while you think back on your newly remembered memories.
“I think I can manage that.”
He's soft now. When you first met he was more gruff, arrogant, aggressive, smug, and even attempting to be apathetic to protect himself but his faux apathy has been worn away through years of loving you and being loved. The way the river wears at the riverbed until it's soft and smooth. His large hands gently cup your hips and, at least to your memory, you've never felt safer.
Logan Howlett x Reader with injury related memory loss
Word count: 9.4K
A/N: Okay yeah maybe it’s lame but there are an unreasonable amount of flashbacks in this one. It isss what it isss. My process was mostly typing out most of it, reading it back, hating it, scraping that, then Frankenstein-ing it with other past drafts until I got something I’m mostly happy with. First time writing smut for the world to read and as a sexually inactive wlw, I am very open to feedback, this is far from my area of expertise lol
Warnings: a combination of angst and fluff and now smut, feminine reader (called Logan’s wife and she/her pronouns), Reader is awkward and a little cringe, Logan is a bit self deprecating, slight size kink, unprotected p in v (this is fiction, use protection folks), cum eating (for like one second)
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Logan woke up alone again. Although you couldn't have been up long, your warmth still lingering in the sheets near next to him. He drags himself away from the warm bed into the gray day ahead. There is still tension between you both, not even acknowledging each other as you pass one another in the bathroom. As soon as he enters, you spit out your toothpaste and leave, heading towards the kitchen. Through the sliding door you can see that today will be cloudy, which feels fitting based on how heavy the silent air between you and Logan is. It's not yet storming but it looks like it will. The clouds look thick and dark and fluffy like the kinds that you see during a storm but now seems to be the calm before it.
By the time you poured yourself a bowl of cereal, Logan was sauntering in to make coffee. You choose to stay in the kitchen while he does so, but your time of silence remains initially unbroken. That is, until you decide one of you eventually needs to budge. Besides, you had important questions you needed answers to.
“Am I allowed to sit on the counter?” You ask, motioning to the counter behind you. Logan turns to look at you.
“Allowed to?” He holds back a laugh as he says it. “You're an adult, this is your house-” he answers in a barely mocking tone.
You let out a short, annoyed scoff, “no, I mean do I. Normally. Technically I can do a lot of things, I want to know things that are normal for me to do.”
Logan nodded slowly. “Yeah I figured. Gotta poke fun at you somehow. Yes, you sometimes sit on the counters. For the life of me I don't know why you like doing it though- it can’t be comfortable.”
You shrug and hop up, continuing to eat your cereal while you watch him.
When it's finished, he turns around to question you while his coffee cools on the counter behind him. Your eyes lock with his as soon as he's turned to face you, clearly not hiding the fact that you were observing him. He crosses his arms and leans back.
“Can I ask you somethin?” The question is soft when it leaves his mouth. Like something asked too loud might scare you off.
“What?” You cock your head slightly as you ask and set your bowl down to focus on him more completely.
“So when you said I scared you yesterday, you didn't say anything about the uh.. claws.” He lifts his hand making a loose fist, nodding to it.
“Yeah?” Your expression and tone conveyed confusion.
“So that isn't what you were scared of?” Saying it more like a statement than a question.
“No. It was the yelling mainly- and how you treated that kid. Sure, the claws surprised me but they didn't scare me.” You looked down, recalling the memory. “It scared me how quickly you were going to hurt him but I'm not scared just because of your mutation, if that's what you're asking. That is your mutation, right?” You ask, looking back to him again.
“Yeah, part of it.. I also regenerate fast..” Now he's the one who looks distant as he speaks, only partly listening to the words as he says them. “I thought they’d make you afraid of me.”
“Am I normally? Afraid of them I mean.” He finally forced himself to look at you again.
“Well- No..”
“I haven't been around other mutants my whole life but it's been pretty close. I've met enough to know that having a mutation doesn't matter nearly as much as how you use it.. yesterday was a bad example of how to use yours.”
He nodded and crossed the kitchen as you spoke. He stopped in front of you, just between your knees. He’s just a little shorter than you like this.
“.. yeah..” He planted one hand on your upper thigh and paused to choose his words carefully. He whispered as he continued, “I’m usually better than that.. And I'm sorry I scared ya.” He kissed your cheek before pulling back again.
“Apology accepted.” Your hands glide over his shoulders, folding your hands together behind his back. “You think I could ask you a question now?”
“Anything.” He was still quiet because of the close proximity.
“Why were you apologizing when I was in the hospital?”
“What’d you mean?”
“When I first woke up in the hospital, you were apologizing. It’s the first thing I heard. You didn't do anything to cause the accident so you wouldn’t have anything to be sorry about. What did you of all people have to be sorry about that day?”
Logan sighed and leaned his head back, avoiding your eyes. You tilted your head questioningly.
“What? It wasn’t your fault, you know that right?” One of your hands travels down to meet his on your thigh. It moves to lightly trace the tendons and veins on the back of his hand.
“It’s.. just complicated.”
“Try me. I’m smarter than I look, you know. I’m sure I’ll catch on..” You waited for an answer before prodding more. “Come on, please Logan. I want to understand.” He forces his gaze back to you. His expression is sad. You almost feel bad for pushing the issue but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting to know more, to know the context you were apparently missing.
“We were arguing before it happened.. Before you left the house. That’s why you left that night. It was late, I should’ve made you stay. I should’ve told you that I’d go somewhere else and let you stay here- then we might still be out a car but you’d be okay. And now part of me is scared that you won't love me anymore. Now that you have time to think it over without everything we’ve gone through together coloring your view of me, you’ll choose to walk away. Like if..” he paused to collect himself. “When you remember how upset you are at me, it'll make you realize you deserve someone better than me. And I'll have ruined the best thing in my life because of our stupid argument- the stupid argument that only happened because I got too damn comfortable and felt like I had a right to your attention. I should have just let it go, but I couldn’t and I let you leave without letting you know how much I love you and how much better you’ve made my life and how much I need you. So, I’m sorry.” His voice decrescendos as he finishes speaking, suddenly self conscious about his words.
You were silent for almost a full minute leaving Logan's thoughts to run wild while you considered the thought. He scans your face as best as he can while you lean into him.
“I’m confident that whatever you did or said, isn't unforgivable.”
“You don't even know what happened-”
“Yeah. But you do. And if you really believed I was going to divorce you over it or that I wasn't going to love you, then you would've looked relieved when I didn't remember anything. You looked sad and disappointed.”
“Why would I have been relieved?”
“Because if I don't remember, that means you can lie to me, say that the accident skewed the memories most recent to the accident and that we never actually fought. Or that whatever you did was someone else. Or something else entirely- I don’t know what you'd tell me but it doesn’t matter because instead you're here telling me that you're scared of losing me and you look sad when I say I don't remember you. That tells me everything I need to know.”
Logan led a hand to your waist, softly applying pressure. “At least one of us is confident about it.”
“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit. I mean, I’ve stayed this long, haven’t I?”
He keeps holding you but says nothing. You straighten up to look at him better.
“Haven’t I?” You repeat the words with a little more force.
“Yes. But I’ll always think you deserve more than this. More than me” His words make you pause.
“That’s a sad thing to say about yourself.. I hope I can change your mind.” He took a deep breath while processing what you said.
Then he shrugs and continues in a more even tone, “Come on, let’s go sit at the table like normal people.” He brings his arms more tightly around you before lifting you off the counter.
“Woww I don’t even have to hop down myself!” You say as your feet touch the floor and his hands leave you.
“Yeah well I’ve got to be a gentleman sometimes. I think you made me write a vow about it.” You laugh quietly grabbing your bowl and walking towards the table as Logan grabs his coffee.
“Oh yeah, because that sounds like me” There’s a sarcastic tone as you speak.
“Okay maybe you didn’t make me write it but seriously, that was kinda one of my vows.” He tells you as he sits down across from you.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Why would that be your wedding vow?”
“Well I had other vows, I’m just saying it was in there- and if you knew me before, you’d understand.”
“Hmm” You shrug and go back to your breakfast.
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After eating, you start in on the worksheets you left unfinished the day prior. You sit at the table, papers sprawled around you. Logan worked in your home office. You worked separately. Despite things being less tense, it still didn't feel like everything was completely resolved. Because of this, he chose to give you space.
You worked like this for half the day. Interacting minimally. The tension was gone but the uncertain awkwardness that replaced it wasn’t much better. You still had your forgiving personality and conflict resolution skills but without most of your memories, you didn’t have the tools to help you rebuild this specific relationship. The silence of the home office allowed Logan the space for some level of self reflection on the situation. There was almost a rhythm to the way the two of you disagreed. You had a routine down: inciting event, argument, (at most) a week or two of being upset about it, make up. That's how it's always gone, even before you were married or before you thought of each other as friends. When you first met and were both unsure and untrusting of each other. He noticed that fighting, either verbally or in training, was the only time you'd loosen up around him. A contrasting picture with the last several years, when you were most relaxed in his arms, feeling the comforting warmth of his body against your own. Obviously, the amount of arguments decreased significantly over the years as you both realized that anger wasn't the only strong emotion you felt towards each other. Now, this new dynamic is helping him realize how much of the reconciliation was prompted by you. He thought back to all the times when you were the first one to break the post fight tension by asking him to watch a movie with you or ask him for help with things you both knew you were more than capable of doing on your own. Sure, it was common for the two of you to be in an argument, they’re even pretty intense sometimes. But that didn’t matter, that comes with the territory of two stubborn individuals with strongly held opinions, what matters is that you both always stay respectful and make up.
Logan leaned back in his chair, playing with a pen while his thoughts brought him to a specific memory. It was shortly after you began living in this house together, still just dating but it was the most serious the two of you had been up to that point. You were fighting, unsurprisingly. As such, you avoided each other after work. He went home to finish writing up an assignment while you went to help out the health sciences club make the last few batches of goods for their upcoming bake sale. You entered the house without saying anything and he didn’t look up from his work as you walked in. You wordlessly placed a cookie on the edge of the table where he was working, he looked up at it before finally looking to you. You stepped forward and your hand went softly to his cheek, angling his face directly towards you. Being this close he could smell the strong scent of fresh baked goods emanating off of you. You kissed him once before going to the office to deal with your own work. It was all one swift, graceful motion in the moment but through the lense of the memory, he could see you think through each action deliberately. The small gesture itself didn’t fix anything, but it communicated that it wasn’t the end. That, just like every other argument and fight and disagreement, you would both work through it. Making up after that particular fight was what helped him make the decision to propose that same year; despite you insisting you were fine if you never got married. Part of him wanted to take that extra step to show he really meant it. That this was different. That things with you were different.
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You were pretty much ready for a break when Logan interrupted your thoughts by walking in to look through the sliding glass door behind you.
“It doesn’t look like it’ll lighten up at all today.”
“Yeah not really. It looked like the sun was trying to peak through a little bit earlier but it’s only gotten darker as the day has gone on.” He walks away from the door, meandering slowly through the kitchen.
“It’s definitely the kind of day that makes you want to stay in.”
“A good day for old movies and sleeping and avoiding work.” You stretch as you say it.
“You want to take a break and watch something?”
“Yes. But I think if we put something on, I'll never come back to finish these.” You rub your hands over your face and take a deep breath, trying to clear your head to stay focused.
“I get that. I’m still going to sit for a while, if I read one more civil war essay that talks about the different ‘teams’ I’m going to retire.” You watch as he sits on the couch. You stand and start walking towards him.
“Well maybe I could step away for a little bit. Keep you company over here.” You sit down close to him, orienting yourself towards him. With your sleeves rolled up, he notices a cut on your arm. He holds your arm and brushes his thumb over the closed injury.
“Hm?” Confused by his sudden interest.
“I hadn’t seen this before. Looks like it hurts.”
“Not really. I’m fine. Honestly the crush wounds are worse than anything else. Now that the superficial wounds are healing, it just feels like my organs are bruised inside.. Ha I guess that might not be a feeling I’m unfamiliar with..” Logan’s own internal worry drowns out anything remotely lighthearted in your words and missing your nod towards him.
“Huh? Why?” Your face blushed heavier than it had before.
“Sorry.. I- It- I was making a sexual innuendo- and not even a very good one.. Sorry it’s these stupid meds.” Logan’s expression shifts from worry to confusion and a little amused, a smile creeping onto his face.
“I just wasn’t expecting it. Not from you right now.” He leans in close and kisses your cheek before whispering, “and sorry no, it’s not an unfamiliar feeling.” He moves back seeing that his words only deepen the blush across your cheeks. “Not that I’d compare myself to a truck.. But what’s wrong with your meds?”
“N- nothing serious enough to change what I’m on. Just- .. uh-” Your eyes go to your hands to avoid looking at him. “One of them increases sex drive in some patients. And of course I’m one of them so this stupid medication makes me stupidly horny. I’ll get over it, it’s just not any easier when..” Your eyes drift from your own hands to look Logan up and down motioning generally to him. “When there is this big, sexy, sad looking man around being nice to me all the time.” You smile at him, even when feigning annoyance. He lightly stroked your arm.
“I could help take care of that for you..” He seemed genuine in his offer but his face showed that he was still trying to stifle his amusement.
“No- I mean we shouldn’t.. Right? It’s weird, you’re married-”
Logan laughed, “Yeah, to you!”
Your hands covered your face in embarrassment. “Ugh I know! So why do I feel like a home wrecker” Logan laughed again and moved your hands off your face. He kept one hand on yours in your lap. He put his other arm around the back of the couch behind you and turned his body towards you.
“It’s your home sweetheart. And we don’t have to, it was just a thought,”
“But you want to?”
He paused thoughtfully before speaking. “.. If you want to, if it’d make you feel better.. Then yeah-”
“Completely independent of what I want, do you want to have sex with me?” He studies your expression before answering.
“..yes. But if you’re not feeling up-”
“Oh hush. I feel physically up to it, I just don’t know if I can mentally deal with that.”
“Because you don’t feel like we’re married?”
“Kind of? I don’t know! I just..” You huff out a breath. “I don’t know. It feels like it should feel weird for you. How is it not weird for you?” You roll your head onto his arm that’s still on the back of the couch.
“You’re still you. You become more like the you I know everyday.” He starts rubbing circles onto your hand. “We’ve been close for a long time- I can’t picture things ever being ‘weird’ between us anymore. I’m sorry that they are for you right now.” He sighs seeing your expression before leaning forward and kissing you. “We’re going to be okay.”
You nodded and sat in silence for a minute before looking back at the man sitting directly in front of you who hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
You surprised him by being the one to lean back in and kiss him this time. Surprised but not remotely disappointed. Typically it was him that was softly initiating intimacy. The only times ‘post-accident’ you were physical was when you were flustered and wanted to show him that you were comfortable enough with him, to prove in some tangible way that you trusted him. But this wasn’t that. If you were trying to prove anything, it was only that you wanted him. One of your hands found their way to his jaw while the other let go of his hand and rested on his bicep which soon flexed and shifted as his own hands moved cautiously onto your form. It felt good and it felt wrong. Despite knowing that this was really the second time you were falling in love with him but right now all you saw in front of you was a broad, handsome, married man. A man you were sure would look even better on top of you- a thought you’d been trying to push out of your mind but several days on these stupid meds were enough to wear down what felt like your better judgement. Without taking your tongue out of his mouth, you slid your leg over his lap. He adjusted his hands to slide you even closer to him. You pulled away just enough to catch your breath and Logan moved down, focusing on the top of your chest, shoulders, and neck; any skin he could get access to. Your hands moved into his hair. He stopped and seemed to almost force himself off of your skin. You felt yourself blushing again as soon as he looked at you.
“Are you still feeling okay? You’re sure you still want to keep going?”
You bit your lip and nodded.
“Good-”
You squeaked out a noise when he suddenly picked you up and carried you towards your shared bedroom. You tried to keep yourself from being embarrassed about being picked up again, it didn’t exactly seem difficult for him. And he had done it earlier this week without prompting then either. But regardless of everything, it still felt like something you should feel embarrassed about. You tried to ignore your own anxieties by pressing light kisses onto his neck; repeating his actions to you moments earlier.
He placed you carefully on your bed. As soon as his hands left you, you were pulling your shirt over your head. Logan froze when he saw your bare torso. The sudden silence and lack of motion made you notice how rain now pelted the window and the dark clouds had gotten even darker. Logan’s eyes seem to study you. It was the first time he’s fully seen you since the accident. The bruises are darker than he imagined they’d be. There looked to be a thousand little cuts that litter your body in between the large bandages that he is sure are covering the worst of it. He breathes out your name as his eyes scan everything that is now visible. You pull your eyes away from watching his, suddenly insecure. His already soft touches turn featherlight as he brings his hand up to trace over the darkest area on your abdomen.
“That hurt?”
“A little. Everything hurts a little bit.” You shrug as you say it, trying to make it sound like a joke.
“We don’t have to do this tonight, we can wait until you’re more healed.”
“If you aren’t comfortable with it then we can wait but really, I’m okay.”
“You sure? I just don’t want you to push yourself because of something you think I want.”
“I want to.” You said plainly. “Not just because it’s what I think you want.”
Logan sighs quietly. “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” He moved to take off his own shirt. You run your fingers lightly over his lower abs before stopping at his waistband, looking up for permission. He throws his shirt in the general direction of your closet then looks at you, where your hands are paused, then back in your eyes. He smirks and nods. You slide his sweatpants and boxers down together, watching his hard cock spring free out of the constraints of his pants causes you to slow down and he takes over, throwing both somewhere else on the floor. He obviously took note of your staring and hesitancy.
“Still want to do this? You look unsure all of the sudden” He laughed softly.
“Yeah, there’s just.. well- more of you than I thought.” You spoke slowly, only half focusing on the words as you said them, still not looking up as you shamelessly stare.
You felt him in earlier mornings and it’s not like you hadn’t been a little curious but this was still more than you expected. You thought back to a particular morning earlier in the week. Logan was awake before you. He sighed as he took in the morning air. As per your recent routine, he didn’t want to give up his time to hold you and feel close to you any sooner than he had to. He moved his arm to softly pull your back closer to his chest. His form almost on top of yours, squishing you slightly into the bed. His leg tangled between yours, his bent knee slotted behind your own. It wasn’t until he pushed himself against you that he fully realized his situation: his morning wood that was now sharply against your ass. And the way he chose to snuggle himself into you certainly wasn’t doing him any favors but he worried that shifting again would wake you. Normally he wouldn’t care, you’d been together long enough that you really didn’t even mention it anymore unless one of you wanted to act on it. He knew without even asking: because of the current circumstances, this morning wouldn’t be one of those mornings. Which he didn’t mind, he didn’t want to push you. It just made the current predicament that much more difficult to navigate. Should he move back to his side or should he try to fall back asleep and hope everything sorts itself out before you wake up or-
You sighed deeply. The type of sigh you only do when you fully wake up. Your hand goes to rub Logan’s arm softly.
“Good morning Logan” You mumbled sleepily.
“Mhm” is all he can muster while hoping simultaneously that you don’t notice the obvious boner he’s pressed into you and willing it to go away. He’s partly worried it’ll make you uncomfortable but mostly he’s worried it’ll scare you away from any physical touch like this. The physical touch that is currently keeping him sane. The physical touch that comforts him. The physical touch that feels like the last true string of connection with you. The physical touch that lets him pretend everything is normal for just a few hours. He is scared to admit he doesn’t know how to rebuild your connection without the softer moments of touch where the world doesn’t matter and he can feel, even now, your shoulders relax as much as his do. Where it feels like he can actually do something right and make you feel at least a little safe.
While he’s lost in worry, you turn a full 180 and lean into him. He tries to subtly move his hips back to keep his front from completely touching you but as he moves back, you move forward, pressing yourself against all of him. His hand lifts for a moment while you move and even a second after you’re settled, he pauses before again resting it on your body hesitantly.
“You okay?” You ask casually.
“Yep.” He answered suspiciously quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You giggle softly “Because you’re being weird and you’re super tense.”
“Sorry. Guess I’m just.. lost in thought this morning.” Not a complete lie.
“Mmm I don’t think that’s right. You’ve been lost in thought before. You seem different than that this morning.” You brought an arm around him to lightly drag your nails along his back.
He said nothing, just trying to relax into his ‘normal self’ although now everything he did felt forced.
“You almost seem like you’re embarrassed about something but I have to assume at your age, this isn’t the first time you’ve woken up hard.”
Logan blushes, almost imperceptibly so, just the smallest amount of warmth fell on his cheeks. As awkward as he felt hearing your words addressing what he was attempting to conceal, he did relax more, knowing you noticed and didn’t pull away. He relaxes, spurring you to a conclusion.
“Wait oh my god was that actually why you were tense?” You prop yourself up on your elbow and adjust yourself to look up at him and read his reaction.
“What no? I- I didn’t even say anything!” His voice was higher and defensive sounding.
“No but alllll that tension left your shoulders,” Your hand now drew gentle circles where your nails had been drawing shapes on his back. “You poor thing, why are you embarrassed??” You smiled at him playfully but your eyes still held a look like you were sorry.
“I’m not!” He said at his regular pitch but still very defensively.
“Okay well, even if you were, that’s okay too. I’m sorry I made you feel embarrassed, I shouldn’t have said anything. Even as a joke.” You fixed his hair and kissed his cheek.
He sighed before admitting defeat. “Nothing you did. I didn’t want anything to scare you off. Thought you might not want to be around me or sleep next to me or any of that.”
A soft laugh rose from you again. “No, no. I don’t care. More than that, I know the science behind it! Which makes me really not care. It’s obviously not something you can help. I do appreciate you looking out for me, it’s really sweet but I’m not as delicate as you make me out to be sometimes.”
“I know, I know. My girl’s tough. I still worry though-”
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Logan said your name. “You still on planet Earth, doll?”
“Hmm? Sorry. Just overthinking.”
In the present moment, rain is drumming loudly on the roof and Logan’s large, muscular physique still stood in front of you. Logan smirks, already thinking about how he will tease you about your reaction later but right now he has a different goal. He kneels on the floor in front of you. Slipping off your pants and discarding them in the general direction of his own. He placed soft kisses on your inner thigh working his way to your bare core. You put a little force against him as you put your hands on his shoulders, stopping him.
“You don’t have to do that Logan-”
“I don’t have to? Or you don’t want me to?” He looks up at you from between your legs.
“I don’t want you to.”
“You sure? It’ll make it easier if you-”
“I just want to feel full of you..”
Logan is stunned for a moment while his mind goes blank as your statement completely takes him off guard.
“Yeah, I can do that.” He mumbles as he stands.
He guides you more towards the middle of the bed. Going from standing to hovering over you, you lay back and bring your hands back onto his structured chest. Simultaneously moving to stick your tongue down his throat again. He pulls back enough to see what he’s doing.
“Jesus, what are they putting in these meds of yours?” He laughs at your sudden aggressive nature.
“I wish I knew!” You said, still trying to push your embarrassment and anxiety to the back of your mind.
He carefully bent one of your legs towards your chest with one hand while the other moved to your clit. A small gasp left your lips.
“Gotta work you a little bit, then I’ll fill you up okay?”
You nodded.
He continued his motions in small, rhythmic circles around your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. Before long, he repositions his hand, keeping his thumb in its place but carefully pushing two large fingers into you. You whine as he finds the spot he is aiming for without even searching. Like he knows your body as well as you know it yourself. It doesn’t take long like this before you’re already cumming around his fingers. You hear a pathetic sounding whimper as he removes his hand from your body and it takes a second to realize it came from you. If you weren’t already turned on, you would be now after seeing the way he licks off his fingers after removing them from you.
He moves to line himself up with your entrance. Seeing how thick he is, especially from this angle, makes your anxieties pick up again. He first tactfully glides the swollen, leaking tip through your folds before slipping just the head into you. Then, with you both watching where you connect, he slowly pushes himself into you. You both breathe in deeply, taking in the feeling. He stops when he feels you tense up.
“Hey, look at me.” You force your eyes open and back to his. “You can take it, just relax. I promise- You trust me, right?” You nod. “I gotta hear it baby,”
“I trust you” You state, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah ya do. You’ve done it a hundred times before, you just need to relax. It’ll feel better when you get adjusted”
You nodded again, trying to breath through the overwhelming feeling. He isn’t even all the way in and you could feel yourself stretching to accommodate him. Logan was trying to manage his own feelings while still making sure you felt okay. It’s been a long time since the first time between the two of you, he didn’t know the hurdles you faced were mental as much, if not more than they were physical. He moved forward into you; a short, high-pitched whine left your lips and a deep groan left his.
“You’re so tight, I’m not going to last longer than a teenage boy if you don’t loosen up a little. Just breathe.” His voice was unsteady as he breathed out his words.
“I know” You sigh and relax a little but, still not completely. “Just do it- all at once.” You both spoke in breathy, unsteady voices.
“It’ll hurt more that way.”
“I’d rather it be over faster.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes- just do it. Just-”
He does as you ask, as carefully as he can manage. He hisses sharply and you let out a loud cry. He moved a hand to your jaw, trying to comfort you some.
“I know baby I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He kisses you harshly, a sorry attempt at distraction from the sting that radiates from where you connect.
You realize you were digging your nails deep into his shoulders and lighten up on him, not that he seemed to mind any. You both take a second to breathe, he lets you adjust to him. As the sting faded some, the pressure started to feel better. His hand massaged your thigh as he held it up against his body. He returns to kissing and licking at your neck to distract himself until he feels you more fully relax. He perks up.
“You want me to keep going?”
You nod and speak through a shaky breath, “Please,”
He starts moving, slowly at first but soon picking up the pace. The pain dissipates and is replaced with pleasure little by little with each thrust. He focuses a hand between your bodies, finding your clit again. You find yourself again impressed at how well he knows not only your anatomy, but that he knows what you need before you even ask for it. You see again that your nails bite into the meat of his shoulders, almost drawing blood as you move down a little. The small, deep scratches heal under your fingertips in seconds. You’d be more fascinated by what his body was capable of if you weren’t distracted by what his body was currently doing to yours.
You moan when you feel his head nudge deep inside of you, hitting just the right spot of soft tissue with the perfect amount of force. Watching your reaction, he tried his best to repeat the motion. A quick string of expletives and Logan’s name mixed in with your increased frequency of moans. He can feel how close you are and coaxes you the rest of the way there.
“That’s it, beautiful, you’re right there.”
That’s all it takes to tip the scale and you gush around him. He guides you through it, speaking softly without stopping his thrusts.
“Oh fuck me, you’re good at this” You whined breathily.
Now he’s cocky, “Yeah well-” He moaned into your collarbone as he pushed his face against your neck. “Practice makes perfect, right? And uh- we practice a lot.” His words are broken up by his heavy breathing as he nears his own climax, still trying to wait it out to get one more out of you.
He slowed to a stop before fully pulling out, before you had time to question the abrupt end, Logan flipped you over from your back onto all fours, like it was nothing. You are startled but too overstimulated to react strongly to being repositioned. He was quick to push himself back into you, it felt better to have him there, buried deep in your walls. It was soothing; especially now that you were too blissed out to notice any residual pain that might be there because of his size. You leaned into his chest which now hovered above your body. He continued back into you, deep and more harsh than before. In contrast, the free hand that roamed your front was still gentle and kept the touches lighter on your left side where the injuries were the worst. Between heavy panting he softly kisses your shoulder and mutters praise under his breath.
“Good girl, you’re doing so well.”
His free hand moved again lower, first pressing it against the outside of where he worked in you before moving down, putting more forceful, uncontrolled pressure onto your already oversensitive clit causing you to jolt back at first. After he reigned himself in enough, it didn’t take much before you were on the edge with him again. His thrusts grow less consistent as he finally lets go. He moans your name and you feel thick ropes of his cum being pumped deep into you with an intensity that triggers your orgasm alongside his. He rides out his orgasm, pushing his cum deeper into you as well as causing some of it to leak out around him, down your thighs and onto your sheets. Eventually he slowed to a stop as he started to soften.
He still panted, trying to catch his breath. He puts his head against your neck. He pulled out but was quick to replace himself, now with his two fingers softly playing against your sensitive insides, feeling the difference from how your body stretched to accommodate him kind of gave him a sense of pride. Both his fluids and yours mixed into a glossy, cloudy, viscous mixture that created thick strings from you as he finally pulled his hand back.
You’re only half paying attention to your own body as Logan helps you stand and guides you to the bathroom with a hand on your lower back. He washes his hands. At first you’re just watching him. When he sees how out of it you are he smiles at you in the mirror.
“You should pee so you don’t get a UTI,”
It takes a second for the words to sink in.
“Oh yeah, duh.”
You lean against the wall behind you and deeply exhale while you run your hands over your face and through your hair. Still standing and waiting.
“Are you really waiting for me to leave?” Logan asked, still looking amused.
“Well I was.. But your tone makes me feel like that’s silly..” You sheepishly tell him.
“It is, a little bit.” He laughed “I just fucked your brains out, I didn’t think peeing in front of me was where the line for privacy was but it’s no big deal. I can leave too.”
He dries his hands and shuts the door on his way out.
When you return to your bedroom, you switch off with him. You’re laying in bed collecting your thoughts while Logan went to the bathroom. You drink from the water bottle on your nightstand, thankful you filled it earlier in the day. When he came back he first went around to your side of the bed, sitting on the edge while he spoke to you.
“You need anything?”
“No, I’m okay. I just want you.”
“You’ve got me.” He kisses you before walking around the bed to his side. When he passes the closet door, you think of something.
“Wait- you should throw me your t-shirt”
He looks confused and picks up the one at his feet that he was wearing earlier in the day. “This one?”
You nod. He lightly tosses it to you and you put it on. He still looks at you, confused, as he climbs into bed next to you.
“I want to be at least a little decent. Stop judging me”
“I’m not!” He lays down and cuddles up next to you, you lay your head on his chest. “Okay, maybe a little. You could’ve asked me to throw you your own shirt?”
“I like yours more.”
“Yeah I know, you steal my clothes pretty often.”
“I like them because they smell like you. It makes me feel safe.”
He’s heard the same explanation before, it still made him feel good about himself to hear that you thought of him as keeping you safe. Even when you had no memories to prove that.
“That’s funny, that’s the same reason I like you doin’ it.” He whispers. He waits a beat before continuing with his more serious question. “Did it help? You feel any better?”
“Mhmm you did a good job.”
“..Thanks” He again calls you a nickname that no one else does. The same one he mentioned when you first woke up. You both let the sounds of the heavy rainfall fill the room instead of conversation. Leaving you both to wade through your thoughts.
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You stay close together, not paying much attention to the amount of time passing until you hear the rain pitter to a stop. The change in the environment brings you back into the present moment and into your tacky skin.
“Okay,” You shift yourself off of Logan and stretch. “I’m going to go shower.”
“I can’t talk you into five more minutes here?” He reached his hand under his shirt to lightly touch your back.
“Nope, I’m sweaty and you’re sweaty so now I have your sweat on me- I just feel gross.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Pretty sure my sweat isn’t the worst thing on you-”
You turn and lightly hit his chest “Yeah and that’s another reason I want to shower. Believe it or not, feeling things dripping out of me isn’t as fun as I make it seem.”
“Yeah okay,” He kissed your scalp and moved his hand off you to let you get up then slipped on his sweatpants and started to follow you.
“Where are you goin’?”
He smirked. “To shower?”
You rolled your eyes. “When I said shower, I meant by myself.”
“Aw” He made an overdramatic pouty face “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. I’m already going to be sore as it is.”
He sighed dramatically and nodded but approached you anyways. He wrapped his arms around you. “Yeah sorry baby, I guess that’s my fault. Why don’t you let me run you a hot bath and I’ll shower downstairs. And that should make those bruises feel a little better too.” You move your arms around his waist.
“As nice as that sounds, I can’t. Nothing that was stitched up can get soaked.”
“Well." He sighs. "I can still get everything ready for you so all you have to do is get in.”
“You don’t have to do that, I-”
“I want to. Just lay back down and I’ll tell you when everything is ready.” He punctuated his statement by kissing your forehead.
You can’t remember a time you were ever treated like this. You don’t completely know how to react but you were starting to get some hazy memories of you generally resisting similar treatment from Logan throughout the years. Now seems as good a time as ever to start accepting it, at least for the time being. You put your towel down before sitting on the bed, despite knowing you’ll definitely have to change the sheets before sleeping in them tonight. You note the setting sun starting to peak through both the clouds and the open blinds, suddenly grateful you don’t have close neighbors. You turn your attention back to yourself; carefully, you peel off the bandages that will only hold water against your stitches, throwing them in the small, nearby trash. You lay back down and cover your eyes with your arm to block the light. The action causes the edge of Logan’s large shirt to be pulled up, exposing more of you but, you’re not truly in a headspace to care about covering yourself. Your mind is just about empty when you hear Logan come back into the room and stop directly in front of you.
“You got banged up pretty good, huh?” Trying, rather unsuccessfully, to conceal the worry that has returned to his voice as he pushes the shirt even higher to peek at the now exposed, stitched gash across your ribs. It starts just above your hip, leading up and ending just below your breast. You shift your arm to see him leaning over you, one hand pressed into the bed beside you, as he looks more closely at your wounds now that the golden sunlight falls onto you.
“They look a lot better than a few days ago. I imagine that everything looked much worse before they woke me up.” Your voice is still smooth and relaxed.
“Yeah probably. I don’t know, you were pretty much completely covered when I saw you. I know the swelling went down a lot after the first two days. I don’t want to think about how bad these looked then.” He traced the edges of your bruises again.
You shrug. “At least that won’t scar, the stitches almost definitely will.”
Logan doesn’t say anything. He just keeps studying you with a worried expression. You sit up, gravity pulling the shirt’s edge down again. His eyes finally go back to yours and he straightens up off the bed, returning to standing at his full height.
“I mean they’re not terrible, I can’t even feel them with the meds I’m on. I’m okay. Promise.”
“Yeah I know. You’re always okay..” He paused, looking you up and down again. “Do you want help putting the bandages back on after you shower?”
You scan his face before answering. “Will it make you feel better?”
“I-” He began to protest before genuinely considering how it would make him feel. “..I think it'd make me feel.. Useful.”
“Then yes, I’d love the help.”
“Okay.. thanks..” You stand up, still not reaching his height but so he doesn’t tower over you.
“Thank you, you’re the one helping me!” You sound happy like you really believe he is doing you a favor by helping you do what you’ve been doing on your own for about a week. You swear you even catch him smiling for a second.
“I’ll stop holding you up. You can go shower so you can stop feeling gross. I did everything but start the water. Towel’s on the hook and clothes are on the counter. I’ll change the sheets before I hop in downstairs so you can go back into bed if you want. Sound good?”
“Yes. Thank you.” You lean forward and kiss him. “You really are helpful, you know.”
“I try my best for you.”
As you walk off towards the bathroom, he starts stripping the bed, as promised.
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You stand in front of the bathroom mirror. Everything really does look better than it has. The bruises have lost most of their purple hue. Overall, the swelling has gone down. Most of the small, unstitched cuts have fully closed. Even the stitched gashes look a little better. The edges didn’t separate anymore when you applied pressure while cleaning them. You throw on just your pajama shirt and underwear. It feels awkward compared to what you have been wearing but you know it’ll be easier for you to put on pants after your leg is bandaged. And you’re well aware that it’ll only feel awkward for you, Logan has clearly seen you in less.
You fix your wet hair then grab everything you need to let Logan help with your stitches and head into your bedroom to wait for him. Just as he said, there are fresh sheets on the bed. You think if you lay down, there’s a good chance you’ll fall asleep even with the sunshine still peaking through as it sets so you grab your book to keep you awake.
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It isn't more than 10 minutes before he walks in to see you laying on your stomach, ankles crossed, reading your book. He puts his clothes in the basket before coming over to you. You turn over and sit up, setting your book on the nightstand.
"You're so beautiful" You blush at the unexpected compliment.
“I- thanks. Um. Do you- have you-” You take a moment to recollect your thoughts. “Stitches. Do you know what to do? Have you had stitches before?”
He grinned for a second and sat down on the bed next to you, angling himself to face you.
“No, my mutation heals me before I'd ever need stitches. But you've had them before, I helped when they were in an awkward spot on your back. That's been a long while though, I don't even think we were dating back then.” He looked off as he searched his mind for the memory.
“Why did you of all people help me?” You ask before thinking.
Trying not to take offense to your statement he explains, “We've always trusted each other. That's just how we always have been. But you'll have to remind me what to do for this.”
“Right yeah,” You grab the supplies off your nightstand and set it closer to him on the bed. "you take the cotton swab, put this on and clean it like this.” Demonstrating by hovering over the injury. “Then you just take off the paper on the sticky outside part of the bandages and press them down.” He nods as you explain.
“I can do that. Where do you want me to start?”
“Probably here,” pointing to your leg, “it'll be easier if I stand.”
Logan nodded and knelt down while he followed your instructions for the wound on your upper thigh. You felt yourself blush as he held his nondominant hand on the inside of your thigh to stabilize what he was doing. He was more gentle than you imagined he'd be. You knew he wouldn't be careless about it but for some reason you couldn't imagine that his large hands could manage small details without being heavy handed. After standing for a minute you feel the new weakness in your legs and reach a hand to rest on Logan's shoulder to steady yourself.
“You alright?”
“Yeah just felt unsteady for a second, I'm okay now.”
“Here sit down, I'm done here anyways.”
You look down realizing he had followed the rest of the steps, covering the area with a bandage.
“Where next?”
You lift your shirt slightly, exposing the spot starting just above your hip. He has you lay down so you're a more stable surface to work on. Logan does this spot just as easily and wordlessly moves on to the last place across the front of your rib cage.
“There you go.” He smoothed the last edge of the bandage and kissed the top of it after securing it down. “Good until tomorrow.”
You nod. “Thank you.” You sit up as he moves back.
“It’s getting late, we should eat something.” He states plainly, looking out the window at the almost setting sun.
“Eh. I’m not hungry.” You joined him in standing, looking at the way the sun was reflected in his eyes.
“With all the meds you’re on, you shouldn’t skip meals.” His eyes now turned back to meet yours.
“I knowww,” You drag the word out as you lean your head against his chest.
He brought his hands up to your shoulders, “I’ll make you whatever you want. You just need to eat something.” You pull back to look at him.
“Do you always treat me like this? Or is it because right now I’m your injured little bird you feel the need to take care of?” He reacts by making a face.
“Treating you how?”
“Doing everything for me.”
“I try to. You don’t always let me. I know you can do things on your own. Really, I just like doing this stuff for you.” Shugging as he speaks.
“You do so much for me, I feel like I’ll never be able to return the favor.” You drop your eyes down to your hands which now trace shapes over his chest, drawing invisible patterns onto his shirt to keep from meeting his eyes.
“Who said you have to?”
“Me! I want to. I don’t like feeling the weight of an outstanding debt.”
“Well. As I see it, I still owe you,”
“How so?” Your suspicious expression finally looks up to him again.
“I was an asshole to you- for years- and you’ve always been nice to me.” You roll your eyes.
“Okay I’m pretty sure that’s evened out by now.”
“It’s not just that. I’ve done a lot of bad in my life. You’re something good. I don’t deserve you, I owe you just for sticking around.” He unconsciously runs his palms up and down your arms.
“Don’t say that- That’s not true. Nobody is owed anything in that regard. Besides, I don’t care what you deserve or what you’re owed, I’m clearly here with you because I want to be. Not because of what you do for me, because I like you, Logan.”
He nods but doesn’t have anything to say. What could he say? Neither of you are willing to budge.
“Can I make you breakfast for dinner? Toast sounds good right now. I think we even have some deer sausage from one of the neighbors.” You sigh at his avoidance to address what you said.
“Say that you deserve me first.” He sighs and looks like he’s weighing his options in his head then just gives in.
“Fine. I deserve you. Come on, I want to start making food- and you’re not allowed to help- You just have to sit there and let me take care of you!”
“Ugh fine but I’m putting on pants first.”
“I guess if you have to.”
He leans in to kiss you before heading towards the kitchen.
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As promised, you were banned from helping the kitchen. For a minute, you accidentally distract him until the scent of burning eggs has him back to the task at hand. Thankfully, everything is still salvageable. You eat and end the night all but sitting in his lap on the couch, promising to watch a movie. It isn’t more than 15 minutes in when you’re already asleep on his shoulder. As he looks down at you now, he can’t help but think back to the first field trip the two of you chaperoned together.
Ororo and Scott were also along but given how Scott and Logan had been getting on each other’s nerves the whole trip, you switched with Scott for the bus ride back to the school. Despite Logan seemingly hating you as much as Scott. Despite how he took any chance he could to make mean comments or point out your mistakes. You still switched with Scott. You still sat squished against the window even when he knew he should have given you more space. You still offered him a ginger candy even after he had called them weird. All signs pointed to him hating you. But after you fell asleep on his shoulder, he was almost the opposite. He shushed the students when they got to a volume he thought might wake you. And after arriving at the mansion, he waited until everyone else got off before gently carrying you to your bedroom, a room he had never even seen inside, let alone been in. But he was careful as he held you with one arm to use the other to pull back your blankets. You were placed under the blankets then he brought the other ones up to your shoulders. Even going as far as going back for your backpack which he deposited at the foot of your bed. When you woke up the next morning and found his note, with his old, flowery handwriting, you almost didn’t believe it. That this was the same Logan who mocked you everyday. Who said you weren’t fit to go on missions. Who went out of his way to bother you. He was the one who decided to bring you up and tuck you in instead of waking you up by throwing your backpack at you or some similarly unpleasant surprise.
Now he sees that you’re the same as you were then. The difference is that he isn’t afraid of getting close to you anymore. He still thanks the universe (or whoever else is listening) for letting you stay in his life this long and prays he gets as much time as he can before death separates you.
Repeating his actions from years prior, he carefully picks you up. Carrying you to your shared bedroom. Thankful that now, he gets to stay with you instead of a note.
pros: I'm done with part 5 and I'm half way through editing it now.
cons: it feels more cringe than the other parts :| so I'm internally screaming a little bit but it is what it is I guess
again part 6 has been done for ages so I'll put that out shortly after I put out part 5.
Also credit for the image is @emu-the-astronomy-nerd I love all of their Kutner images (okay I can't tell if they're blog doesn't exist or if it's changed names or what but that's what their username was at the time)
I was just minding my own business when out of nowhere the most devastating idea for a fic hit me so I wrote out the broad strokes and unironically start sobbing.
During all this, I get a text from my real life girlfriend saying we should talk in more detail about specific aspects of our relationship so..
If I become single in the near future you are all about to get some heavy angst
I was just minding my own business when out of nowhere the most devastating idea for a fic hit me so I wrote out the broad strokes and unironically start sobbing.
During all this, I get a text from my real life girlfriend saying we should talk in more detail about specific aspects of our relationship so..
If I become single in the near future you are all about to get some heavy angst
