♡ Warning/Tags: SMUT! MINORS DNI, p-v, oral fem!receiving, a tad of overstimulation,
♡ Summary: As Robo said: Logan would turn your plushies around before fucking you raw btw, he told me himself—pulls em off to the side with a gruff little “You don’t wanna see this next part bub” before turning you every way BUT loose.
♡ Note: @robo-writing MADE A POST THAT MADE ME BOTH SCREAM CHUCKLE AND INSPIRED TO CREATE THIS PIECE. robo is also one of my favs so check them out too!
You wanted to take it slow with Logan. Even if every bone in your body wanted to jump his, you actually liked him and didn’t want to do anything you believed could sabotage your budding relationship. This was a mutual yet unspoken understanding between the two of you.
He had every intention of taking things slow with you–make his intentions clear. Having met you while you bartended at his favorite spot, you had seen him pick up and take a few girls home. You were different, and he wanted to make that clear.
Still, every time Logan dropped you off at your apartment, it became more charged. After your first date, he simply dropped you off. After your second and third date, it ended in short yet sensual kisses. The tension was building the entirety of your fourth date. When Logan had you pressed against your apartment building door, your moans were smothered by the passionate open mouth kisses. And by god, you wanted to give in, but mother nature had other plans for you. Despite either of your wishes, you called it a night.
Your fifth date was at a drive in-movie. You brought the blankets that were laid out in the bed of Logan’s truck. The both of you admittedly got a handsy during the movie, practically missing the end of the movie.
As Logan parked in the front of your building, he carried the folded blankets that you brought to your building door. Before he could offer to bring the blankets up for you, you muttered the four words he had been waiting to hear for almost a month.
“You wanna come up?”
Logan couldn't help but perk up at that question. Your voice was as sweet as honey, and the soft glow of the porch light framed your face perfectly. He tried to keep a straight face, but the corner of his lips tugged into a small smile when you invited him up.
"Course," he said, his voice rough and low as he tried to contain the lewd thoughts that started flooding his brain.
As you brought him up the elevator, the tension between the two of you was thicker than the blankets he carried. You needed him–need him bad.
As soon as you entered the apartment, you told Logan that he could put the blankets on the couch. He haphazardly tossed them on the cushions but didn’t take his eyes off you. The intensity in his eyes was betraying the restraint he was trying to maintain for weeks.
Barely a beat afterward, you were all over each other. The kiss was sloppy, your tongue immediately submitting to his. Logan’s hand roamed slightly under your sweater, fingers pressing against the warmth of your skin.
Stumbling backward toward your bedroom, Logan kept his lips on your, drinking in the taste that he desperately wanted–hell, needed. As he laid you down, he didn't break the kiss, slowly trailing his hand up your thigh. His lips found their way to your neck, nipping and sucking the sensitive skin.
“Been thinkin’ about this all night, darlin’,” he growled against your neck as he hovered over you. His grip on your thigh tightened, earning a gasp from your lips. “Just like that, baby, I need to hear ya.”
Logan’s other hand hiked up farther near your head until his hand began crushing something soft, something smaller than a pillow. Still focused on marking the skin over your pulse, he moved his hand again just to squish another item, almost losing his grip on the bed.
With a hint of frustration, Logan’s eyes glared open. His stare was immediately met with glossy, black buttoned eyes of a brown cow and the cheery eyes and blushing face of…maybe a dumpling, he thought.
He paused his lips’ freezing against your skin. Logan pulled away slightly to get a better look at what was under his hand. He chuckled, his voice gravelly as he looked down at the squished yet irate octopus.
You sighed due to the loss of contact, swiveling to see what had caught Logan’s attention over the woman he was making out with. He had a mixed expression of confusion and amusement.
“You find my plushies entertaining?” you softly giggled, propping yourself up by your elbows.
“I just…” Logan’s voice was gruff with a smirk as he sized up the 6–no, 8–plushies eyeing him down. The cow, dumpling, octopus, platypus, jellyfish, hot sauce bottle, bumblebee, and mushroom propped against your pillows all had their eyes on Logan, silently judging him. “I just didn’t expect an audience. Your little posse is a bit intimidating,” he teased, looking down at you with a cheeky grin.
“Didn’t think you were one to falter under pressure,” you chuckled. From your back, you turned to look at your plushies. You gave him a tantalizing look as you grabbed the angry octopus from his hand, shaking it in his face. “They’re just here to be cute.”
“Yeah, they’re cute.” Logan’s attention was diverted back to your exposed abdomen from your slightly lifted sweater. A deep growl emitted from his chest as he lifted your sweater further to reveal your plum colored bra. His large hand cupped your right breast as a wry smile grew on his lips. “But what I’m planning on doing with you…it’s far from cute, sweetheart.”
Logan was quick to remove your sweater, throwing it toward the mushroom, causing it to fall off the bed entirely. He dipped back down to your lips with a renewed passion. Dropping the octopus on your nightstand, you were quick to tug at Logan’s t-shirt, practically begging to lose it.
Ripping it off, you could feel your arousal pool at the sight of his broad, hairy chest and sculpted form. Over your head, he tossed his shirt. It landed over the eyes of the soft platypus, but you didn’t notice. You were too enveloped in the hot kisses Logan was lying between the valley of breasts down to the waist of your leggings. His rough hands massaged your breasts until they popped out of their constraints.
Ragged short moans fell from your lips as he grazed and twerked your hardened nipples. Your hands raked over his larger hands before moving to his taunt shoulders, nails scraping his shoulder blades. Logan grunted as he felt your nails rake across his shoulders, his darkened eyes locking on you, hungry and filled with lust.
“Love the pretty moans you make for me, baby,” Logan groaned, his hands moving to the sides of your leggings to wiggle you out of them. Taking your panties with them, you were exposed to Logan. The glisten and scent of your arousal was too tempting.
Feeling his warm breath against your aching cunt, you inched forward, desperate for any form of contact, “Please, Logan. I need to feel you…”
Without another word, Logan applied a heavy striped lick against your cunt all the way to your pulsing clit. A stuttered moan escaped your lips as Logan buried his face into your cunt, wrapping his arms around your soft thighs to pull you closer and keep you legs opened wide.
“Hm, so fuckin’ sweet. All for me, sweetheart?” he muttered against your cunt, the vibrations causing a shiver to run up your spine. You almost missed what he said as tongue lap and darted into your sopping core at a speed that had to be sinful.
You could barely get the words out. Your mind was reeling with such intense pleasure that Logan could only grab your attention again by nipping on your inner thigh. You quickly winced
“You gotta speak up, darlin’. I gotta hear you,”
“All for you, Lo-Logan! Because of you!” Despite your volume, your voice came off small and pathetic as your need for Logan grew.
Rewarding you, Logan pressed a harsh kiss against your clit, sending shockwaves through you. Your hips tried to buck but were secured firmly by the strength of Logan. He was practically making out with your cunt, his nose adding just enough pressure to your clit to run you like a facet.
“So goddamn pretty, so perfect,” he softly breathed against you, darkened eyes temporarily meeting your lust-blown ones like man possessed. Your head tilted back in ecstasy, his stare too intense.
Your finger interlocked with your comforter and his hair. The grip Logan had to keep around your thighs only grew harsher as you thrashed around him. It was a vicious cycle. Your elevated moans drove Logan to delve deeper which only made your thrashing worse and your moans more boisterous. Logan knew you’d learn better once you woke up with the bruised prints in the morning. You knew you’d cherish them.
From your tightened grip on his hair and the sheets, Logan knew you were near your edge. His name was spilling out of your lips as if it was the only word you knew now. Coming up for air didn’t matter; Logan was prepared to drown in your soaked core.
Your climax was almost violent, your legs quiver as you released. Logan lapped it up like a dying dog, the taste of you making him moan. He couldn’t help but rut against the edge of your bed as he licked you clean through your high. The friction was welcomed but not enough.
Your body relaxed as you tried taking in deep breaths to regain a semblance of control. Before releasing your thighs, Logan affixed one last bold brush to your ruined cunt for good measure. Your cheeks were flushed as you looked down at him again. His eyes locked with yours, dark and intense. His eyes seemed almost feral, his need for you evident. He needed more–more of you, all of you.
Logan slowly kissed a path up your body, pausing momentarily to admire the indented prints he had left on your hips. He relished the taste of your skin, his lips leaving a trail of light kisses along your thighs, hips, your stomach, your chest. Your body was still quivering
Finally, his face, still damp with your arousal, was mere inches away from yours, a smug smile on his lips. He gave you a moment to catch your breath before he spoke, his voice a low, rough whisper.
“You okay, darlin’?”
You huffed into a small smile. It floored you how he’d asked, knowing damn well he could still feel your toes curling and your leg involuntarily shaking. It floored you further how badly you still wanted him.
Kissing the corners of your mouth, darting your tongue to gather the remainder of your arousal from his face, you hand grazed his growing bulge. You received a strained grunt from Logan.
“Why do you still have these on?” The sound of your rough and sultry voice, your question–it only made the strain in his jeans worse.
Standing and exposing his full physique, he was quick to remove his jeans and briefs. Your eyes went wide as the sight of his thick, engorged cock, the tip already leaking down a vein.
Logan chuckled lowly at the sight of your reaction. Seeing your widened eyes and parted lips, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
“So goddamn greedy, baby. Didn’t get enough already?” he mocked, laying down to cage you under the weight of his body again.
In response, you pulled him closer, your lips attached to his neck. Your tongue smoothed over every nip. Logan growled, his cock finding some relief from the friction against your hip.
Logan's eyes softened as he was again face-to-face again with the soulful eyes of your cow, slightly tilted on its side. Its fallen comrades were on the floor, preemptively averting their own innocent eyes.
He spoke gruffly, under his breath, “Uh, yeah, you don’t wanna see this next part, bub.” He picked up the cow and spun it around, leaning it against the headboard.
Your plushies didn’t see it, and you could barely handle it. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes as Logan continued to roughly push into you climax after climax after climax. From your back to your stomach to your side, your body was completely coated with sweat and pleasure. Hearing you moan, beg, and whimper only drove Logan to push you further and further till the only word you could conjure was his name.
“It’s not too much, sweetheart, yeah?” Logan’s warm breath groaned against the back of your neck, raising the hairs on it. His bulky arm hooked around to belly, trapping your pelvis against his. He had slowed his tempo in comparison to the previous two rounds, but he hadn’t been this deep. With his leg The tip of his cock was pressing faint kisses against your cervix. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he could witness your face contort in continued pleasure. “You can take it, baby. Taking me so fuckin’ good all night.”
Your voice was gravelly–surely going to be gone in the morning–as your exhausted eyes peered toward Logan, “I-I can’t, Lo-gan…not again.”
“C’mon, just one more for me, baby. Fuckin’ sinful how good you feel,” he murmured against your flushed cheek.
You nodded as you watched Logan hand move down to your overstimulated clit. The slightest pressure was enough to make your soft walls abruptly clench around his cock with a lusty ring. Rolling your hips against his, Logan was close to losing it. A growl escaped Logan’s chest as he picked up his pace–a stuttered pace.
“That’s it, baby. Let it happen. Drench my cock.”
“Fuck, Logan!” You cried, your entire low body trembling against his. Your own arousal dripped down to your thigh, dampening your blanket.
Logan pressed your arched back closer to his hairy chest. With one final thrust, he was incoherently grunting before staining your walls with his seed. Filled with his warmth, you felt your body completely relax–finally.
Logan's breathing was ragged against your neck. The only things that filled the room were your and Logan’s shared pants and the scent of your mixed arousals. He held you like that for a few moments, his heart pounding against your back. Logan was now having second thoughts about ravishing so rashly for your first time.
“Too much?” Logan asked, his voice tired and laced with concern as his hand softly massaged your side.
You wrapped your hand behind you to caress Logan’s cheek. A weak smile formed on your lips, “No, no…it was…” You couldn’t find the words. Your brain was foggy with gratification. Instead, you reached for your irate octopus on your nightstand. Quickly inverting the plushie, the octopus now had a gleeful expression.
Handing it to Logan, he gruffly chuckled, accepting your response. He planted a chaste kiss on your cheek with a satisfied smile. It was just the beginning for you two–or the ten of you.
Omg I adored your 10’s a crowd fic!! What if Logan was with a reader who loved the color pink! Their bedroom had pink everything, even wearing pink! You can make them innocent if you want but imagine how Logan would just find the reader so angel-like coming hard surrounded by bright pink pastels🤭
Handsome in Pink‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/female!Reader
♡ Word Count: 1.4k
♡ Rating: Explicit 18+
♡ Warning/Tags: SMUT! MINORS DNI, sub!Logan, hand job in the mirror, PRAISE, p-v sex, unprotected sex, a lil cum play (kinda?), a lil orgasm denial
♡ Note: Just a quick lil thing because love a lil sub!Logan and I love the color pink. I specifically envision worst!Logan for this, but do as you please
It wasn't something Logan had noticed about you at first. Pink. Typically, it was something subtle like your nails or just one piece of your outfit like that short little number that drove him crazy. When you causally mentioned that it was your favorite color, it all clicked for him. It wasn't just what you wore.
It was the little coral trinkets and floor mats in your car. It was rose gold key ring. It was the baby pink lace panties that poked out when you reached across his lap to grab the remote. They were all different shades. You saw rose, millennial, salmon, cherry blossom, etc. Logan, on the other hand...
"Hm, the site says pastel but then sends this," you groaned as you eyed the skirt that arrived in the mail.
With furrowed brows, Logan crossed his arms. "Ain't that pastel?"
"It's more bubblegum than pastel."
"But it's pink."
"You don't get it."
Logan would be the first to admit that he didn't exactly have an eye for fashion or design, but when he saw your room for the first time, he knew he had never seen so much pink in his life. There were a variety of pinkish hues were broken up by white furniture and flourishing green plants. The pastel bedding mixed with darker pillows and blankets somehow worked for Logan.
Logan had never seen a room like this. And by god, he had never experienced pleasure the way he did in that rosy room.
Your preference for pink gave people a number of preconceived notions, Logan included. A number of those assumptions were correction. Sweet, romantic, sensitive, tender—these were words that could describe you.
Innocent wasn't one of them. And Logan learned this in the best way possible.
"Look at you, baby," you cooed, feathery kisses lining Logan's shoulder. Both on your knees, you were flushed against Logan's taut back. Logan's large figure towered over yours. Still, you had a clear view of the man in your standing mirror. Your slight hand, wet from a mix of your own saliva and his pre-cum, was wrapping around his throbbing cock. Your nails of your other hand slightly tranced circles onto his back. "So handsome, so big...so good for me."
Logan's chest heaved and abs clenched as you tried to control his breathing. It was overwhelming for Logan. The feeling of your frilled, cerise bralette against his back, your warm hand steadily pumping him, your soft stare gazing at his reflection.
It would be easy for Logan to thrust his hips into your grip, control the pace. But there was something about giving into you, surrendering to your alluring spell.
"Fuck, sweetheart..." Logan's groans came deep from his chest as he tried to ignore every dominant instinct he had. "I need to touch you. Please darlin'."
You relished in his begs and pleads but continued your pace. The deep growls that were emitting from his chest was proof of thin his control was at. Your thumb grazed on his tip causing Logan's hips to unintentionally buck.
Your nails roughly dug into his back, earning a wince mixed with pain and pleasure. "Easy, baby...I think you're doing just fine with what you got, yeah?"
Logan couldn't find the words to respond. The smell of your peony perfume and your soft voice dancing through his head, being under your trance—it was intoxicating. Retraining himself, Logan dug his own palms into the sides of his thighs. He was a mess, and you both were loving every second of it.
It was like a high to watch the indestructible man crumble under the simple weight of your touch, knees digging into the cerise fleeced blanket. With ragged breaths and a twitching cock, you could tell Logan near his climax. You savored the strained breaths and groans that Logan couldn't help but release.
"You're gonna come for me, Lo." Your voice was just above a whisper, but you knew Logan heard you. You weren't asking; you never had to. Keeping your speed steady, you keep your eyes locked on his through the mirror. "Just let it happen, baby. Doing so good for me."
Logan's release was almost immediate as if he was waiting for your divine approval. His body clenched against your, feeling his release tighten every inch of his physique. He'd rather have painted your walls, feel you clench around him. But the feeling of taking ropes of his cum into your palm just to lather his still-hardened cock with it as he rode his high felt like something else entirely. As he watched you lubricate his cock further, his thoughts were completely taken over by your soft moans of approval.
"Oh, Lo, such a good boy," you purred against his shoulder. The sound of your praise made his cock twitch again. And you knew what he wanted.
You looked ethereal as you rode his cock. The sight of his cock continuously disappearing into your tight cunt—leaving a creamed ring in its wake—it was heaven. Logan was more than happy to watch you control your pace on his lap in exchange of finally being able to caress you. With a slacked jaw, his rough hands massaged your soft skin from your thighs to your ass, all while watching provide him levels of pleasure that he hadn't experienced in years. And he never imagined he'd feel this way with blushed, stringed lights in his vision field and rose, satin sheets smoothing his back.
Even when you told Logan not to come, not yet at least, Logan found that there was a level of pleasure of watching you get yourself off on his lap. Yes, flipping you over and hammering deep into you until you drunk from his cock sounded good. Yet, surrendering to your alluring call was something else entirely.
"Jesus, princess." He words were barely audible as his eyes roamed your figure. "So goddamn pretty."
Your hum turned into a worn gasp as you felt your climax on the horizon again. You knew ordering Logan to hold off on his own climax during your last one was difficult. As your grinds turned into bounces, Logan looked desperate. He needed to finish in you, coat his favorite pink walls white.
"I know, Lo..." You were practically about to come apart yourself, leaning down to pressed your chest against his. Your strained yet firm voice rang in his ear, "I need y-you to fill me, baby. S-so close."
His grip on your hips slightly tightened. His needy eyes looked in with yours, scanning for you permission to give you everything he had. He didn't see it but he sure as hell heard.
"Please, Logan, just fuck me! I need you, baby."
Like flipping a switch, his hips thrusted up into you with reckless abandon. Your cries were soon muffled when Logan's lips meet yourself in a searing kiss, but he needed to hear those pretty little moans of yours no matter how sweet you tasted. Nuzzling his head into your neck, he continued to mercilessly thrust into you, feeling the recoil of your ass against his hips.
The combination of his teeth nipping at your pulse and pounding deliciously close to your cervix made your eyes roll. You knew you were good at getting Logan to fall into a wave of pleasure just from your touch alone, but the both of you knew Logan could easily turn those tides.
"That's it, Lo. No one fucks me like yo—fuck!" Your voice cracked as your orgasm shot through your body quicker than you expected. Your nails dug themselves into Logan's shoulder as he continued to fuck you through your high. The cries of his name was enough to push him to his edge.
"Ah—shit! Thank you, baby, so fucking good!" With three final thrusts, Logan spilled into you, completely enveloped in a rosy haze. He came harder than he did earlier, entirely stuffing you with his arousal.
Clinging to your glistened figure, his mind was cloudy. The rose-colored sheets were definitely closer to cherry under Logan's sweating form. He couldn't conjure a singular thought as you slowly grinded against his, singing his praises. There wasn't a better feeling; Logan was sure of it.
♡ AU Pairing: servant!Logan Howlett/princess!Reader
♡ Word Count: 4.4k
♡ Rating: Mature (only bc of the discussion of sex)
♡ Warning/Tags: regency attitudes, suggestive language, but nothing explicit
♡ Summary: As a princess, you could almost have it all, especially if you wed. Almost. You could only find love with one of your servants, Logan.
♡ Note: this was just a cute thing I've vaguely been working on to avoid all my responsibilities of life (that's why I've posted two days in a row, i fear)
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow you will find a suitor after all these years.
Word of your ball had spread throughout many kingdoms. Your father promised only the best for you. He promised music, food, and you for the suitors traveling far distances. Suitors had visited and promised to be in attendance tomorrow. Not a single one interested you; you were sure most of them weren’t even interested in you. Being titled and unmarried was uncommon for even men at a certain point; a proper heir would need to be born eventually. God forbid it was out of wedlock.
Many came off snobbish and egotistical. They weren’t there for you; they were there to create a new heir to their throne. They had little interest in you; they had more interest in your birthing hips. Some came off as genuine and kind. Yet, you felt bored in their presence, longing to slip into conversation with another. You wanted more; you already had more.
James Logan Howlett.
Only you called him Logan. He worked as a servant like his father and mother before him. He was one of the younger servants and aid; he was older but not much older than the suitors coming for your hand. He was always gruff around the edges yet respectful. He was by far one of the most hardworking of your servants.
A number of years ago, it was your goal to break his serious demeanor, get him to laugh. You had only seen him smile a few times, yet the memories were imprinted among you. In order to capture more memories of that smile, you’d make snide remarks that only the two of you heard. He wouldn’t admonish you nor remind you of your place as a princess as most would. He’d just shoot you a knowing look or exhale a deep huff.
It took him a whole year before he made a snide remark back while at your eldest sister’s betrothal ball. After watching a gentleman miss every turn and take almost every opportunity to step on your feet during a waltz, you immediately retreated to a place against the wall. Not far from Logan’s earshot but to yourself, you grumbled how that’d probably have to be your last dance for the night.
Not missing a beat, Logan mentioned the man having the graces and footwork of an overgrown frog.
It was a small victory then. Snide remarks turned into short conversations. Those turned into deeper conversations in your garden under the cover of night. When no one was looking, he treated you like a real person— like a friend, maybe more than a friend. You’d both spend long nights talking about your dreams and fears in the garden, always hoping you could steal a little more time.
But the night he kissed you was unforgettable.
“Alright, but you’re not a princess,” Logan stated as you both laid in the grass, gazing at the stars. “What would you be?” He turned his head to meet your gaze.
You hummed looking into his hazel eyes. There was something about Logan tonight. Maybe it was his exposed arms or the sound of his voice when tired from the day. All you knew was that when he looked at you, you could feel your heart race. You almost forgot to answer the question.
“Umm, probably a baker.” Logan gruffly chuckled. You felt a little self-conscious by your own answer now.
“What? A life as a baker so…nice and quaint,” you smiled. “Your mother would make the best bread, and if she could have taught me how she did it, I’d have the bakery in the countryside.”
“No, no, I agree. When my mother would bake, she’d make me help sometimes. My father would do a tasting. Something about the kneading was always relaxing,” he muttered. “Maybe once you’ve grown wearisome of being a royal, we can just open a bakery in town.”
We. The sentiment of doing it together made your pulse pick up.
“Why don’t you do it then?”
“What? Build and open a bakery?” Your nod was met with Logan’s furrowed brows. “I don’t know. This work—this castle—it’s all I’ve ever known.. I was trained to do this since I was a kid. To leave would be…I mean, my mother left recipe cards for bread, cakes, cookies, but—”
You sat up and nodded, “I think it'd be worth it to be brave. As someone who doesn’t get many choices in life—I didn’t even get to decide on my outfit for today or the meals I ate—there’s something about the freedom to be brave. And the number of building projects you’ve completed for my family, I know the shop would be beautiful.”
Logan sat up too and nodded. He bit his lip and muttered under his breath, “Be brave.” You felt Logan’s hand on top of yours.
There went your heart again. You looked down at his worn hand on top of your softer one and then back at Logan. His features softened before his other hand moved to your cheek.
You swallowed with anticipation, hoping to push down your nerves, “Logan…what are you doing?”
He didn’t respond. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours. You felt your breath hitch in your throat out of surprise, but you soon reciprocated. You had dreamed of this for years ever since you first saw him all those years ago. Your lips formed together perfectly and moved in perfect rhythm. Logan’s hand caressed your cheek, bringing you in closer. You instinctively moved your hand to his bicep, feeling every ridge and groove. In this moment, you wanted him to devour you.
Logan wanted the same. There had been other women Logan had been with—substitutions really—and with God as his witness, you were the sweetest one. You were the only one that he wanted.
He pulled away from you with his eyes still on yours. Your stare was dazed when Logan’s eyes met yours again. “You said to be brave. And I know your the princess and I’m jus—“
A small smile creeped your lips, “Hey, Lo?” The sound of your sweet yet low voice silenced him immediately. He could mutter a word, only nodded. You tugged at his shirt, lining your finger against what you could already feel as a strong chest, “I think you should be brave again.”
That was two years ago. It was your first kiss. It was the first time you felt truly special in the eyes of any man. It wasn’t the last either. Logan made sure of that.
After that day, beyond your royal life, your life became filled with stolen kisses, long nights, letters under your pillow. It wasn’t something you expected from the gruff man that you saw everyday.
But when word of your ball started to spread, you could see Logan become distant. Conversations were short in public, the letters stopped, he stopped visiting at night, and there was even talk about him joining the military.
You were worried. Your mind had been racing for a number of nights. You didn’t want to believe that Logan was abandoning you. On the other hand, neither of you were native to your present situation. The thought of him leaving tore your heart apart. Your memories with him put the pieces back together again. The cycle found you every night.
Maybe you could see tonight, but his quarters were outside the grounds. You couldn’t make it there without being seen. Maybe—
A small pebble knocked your window, catching you from your thoughts.
His usual sign.
You quietly moved off your bed to open the window.
“Logan?” Your voice was uncertain as you scanned. Once you saw the form that you recognized to be Logan’s, you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face. “I thought you’d never come back.”
Logan appeared to be slightly panicked as he looked around the garden. “I know tomorrow is...the day and I might not see you again” he sighed. “Can we talk?”
As he had done for the last two years, Logan scaled the outer wall and climbed through your window. He had on a cloth top that exposed his strong arms, and you could practically see his bulging thighs through his pants. You were just in a white nightgown as you were just preparing for bed, but the sight of him was almost enough to make your mouth dry.
You were quick to pull him into a hug; the warmth of his body consumed you. Thinking he’d never get the chance to hold you like this, Logan pulled you in close. “I thought I’d never see you up here again,” you muttered into his chest. Logan could hear the hurt in your voice. It was amplified by the simple notion that he had pushed you away.
“I know,” he muttered into the crook of your neck. You leaned back to look at him. His eyes obviously were panged with grief and regret.
“Then why?” Your words ranged in his head like a thousand church bells. All this time, he knew why. He regretted the reasoning, he still knew.
“When I heard about your ball a while ago, everything felt like it was coming to a head,” he admitted as he took a seat across from you on an ottoman. You sat on your bed. “I don’t know what I expected to happen after the last two years, and I should have seen this coming. I shouldn’t have neglected you…I never wanted you to feel neglected.”
“Logan—”
“Sweetheart, we both know what’s gonna happen tomorrow. You’re going to find a prince, become the perfect queen one day, and receive everything you deserve. Things we both know I can’t—will never be able to—offer you. Like my parents who served yours, I serve you; that’s the way it is. We both know that,” Logan tried telling you. His eyes were sullen and he looked defeated. That’s what broke your heart.
Logan was right. He was right but he was also wrong about one thing.
“Logan…” you placed your hands in his, rubbing your thumb across his, “My days with you, the mere minutes I got to spend with you everyday, was all I ever needed. You gave me everything I could possibly want. This place, these things,” you gestured to the room around you, “it’s not enough to make me happy; Logan, you were always enough.”
As much as it pained him, Logan kept his eyes on you. For all he knew, these could be his final chance to memorize the curve of your face, how your eyes gleamed when the light hit it just right, or recognizing attributes you considered imperfections that Logan simply couldn’t fathom why you thought of them so negatively. He didn’t want this moment to pass, no matter how painful it was.
You both sat there in silence for a bit, too scared to admit what this all meant. Logan was the first one to make movement, standing from the ottoman. You could tell that he was stressed. For a second, your heart fell when you thought he was going to leave. Your name graced his lips as he turned back to you, his hazel eyes glassed over.
“I love you,” Logan admitted. Your eyes widened at his confession. “I am hopelessly, desperately in love with you. When I wake up, I’m disappointed that you’re not by my side, but I find solace in the fact that you’ll grace me with your presence, maybe even give me the time of day after dark. Being with you, not even just intimately, just talking to you, is always the highlight of my day. I go to sleep, and I only dream of you—running away with you, watching you learn how to bake in that shop you always speak of,” he breathed in a single breath; you weren’t sure you caught it all, but every noise of the palace seemed to fall into the distance. “I’d never ask you to renounce your status as a princess, but I could let another day go by without letting you know.”
You felt your breath hitch in your throat. As the date of your ball began coming up, you could only dream about Logan, reliving the moments you had in the garden, especially Logan’s sweet words as his hands roamed your body, searching for new ways to make you gasp and smile. As of lately, you were having the same dreams. What if you ran away with Logan? What if he could put his hat in the race to be your suitor? Questions like these flood your head every night.
You stood up too, slowly approaching Logan. He was hesitant when you placed your hand on his chest, hoping you weren’t kicking him out. Instead, you just wanted to feel him and his beating heart. He placed his hand over yours.
“Everyday, every single day, I wish to move to the countryside with you. Share a life with you. Have a few children, and build a life,” you whispered, smiling at the thought. The tears that brimmed your eyes were threatening to escape. “But I can’t abandon my country, Logan. As much as I want to be with you, I can’t and that tears me apart every waking moment of the day because I love you, James. I don’t want to marry anyone else because no man has ever cared about me the way that you do. It’s not fair,” you sobbed in his chest. “I don’t want to lose you.”
Logan couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around you, pulling you in closer. He kissed your forehead wishing he could change the trajectories of both of your lives. But this was the best he could do at the moment.
“Hey, hey,” he muttered, lifting your chin to meet your tear-stained face, “you’re never gonna lose me, sweetheart.”
Before another thought could cross your mind, you brought your lips to Logan’s for what may be the last time. You became fully enveloped in the kiss when Logan reciprocated it fully. What started as a gentle kiss became desperate in nature. You’ve never shared a kiss like this before. His strong hands spread across your back, sending chills down your spine.
You tugged at the roots of his hair, receiving a moan from the servant. He moved from your lips down to your neck, careful not to leave any marks for your big day tomorrow. The gasp that left your lips was heavenly. Logan searched for it again with every kiss from your collarbone to your pulse. You couldn’t help but to pants as Logan’s lips and tongue danced across your neck.
“Please, Logan,” you quietly moaned out, “I…I want you to have me.”
While you didn’t quite know what that exactly entailed, yet you knew the significance. Your mother had only vaguely explained it to you a few weeks ago. There were many moments where you felt rather needy between your legs when you were with or thought about Logan. You pieced that those two things were related in some way. You affirmed that it was for your husband—a man that you loved. At this point, those two criteria felt like they wouldn't encapsulate the same person.
Logan momentarily stopped and sighed in the crook of your neck. It was bad enough that he had ruined you time and time again already. This was something else completely. “I’m not…it’s not my place, sweetheart. As much as I would love to ravish your body until dawn, I’m not your husband, you’re not my wife; it’s not right.”
Logan wasn’t always big on traditions and doing things the right way. He complained a number of times to you about them. You’d figure that it wouldn’t be Logan’s first time; he had the opportunity to live a life outside of you. You vaguely heard how your brother spoke about women that…they weren’t necessarily courting yet frequently visited. It made you want to scream the way he became traditional all of the sudden.
“I know…” You felt your stomach grow into knots, trying to verbalize concepts you only recently began thinking about. “I know…you’ve been entangled with other women…” You couldn’t help but blush and feel native in the moment.
Logan huffed as you were being more brash than usual, “They weren’t ladies, and most certainly not princesses.”
“You’re right, but I don’t care anymore, Logan,” you told him, fingers lining his chest. “Not only isn’t there another man I want to be with but there isn’t a man who deserves the privilege besides you, my love.” Your hand caressed his scruffy face, praying for the answer you desperately wanted. “I love you.”
“Sweetheart,” You began lining his neck with soft kisses making Logan lose his train of thought. With your hands on his chest and lips on his neck, Logan wanted to cave, he desperately wanted to give in and have his way with you. “Dammit, you’re making this hard, love.”
“Then say yes.” Your hand went under Logan’s cloth shirt, feeling the ridges of his abdominal muscles. “Please just say yes.”
A pang of hurt hit Logan’s heart, stopping your hands from roaming his chest. “You’re not mine to have.” Logan could see the pain in your eyes and immediately felt awful. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you; that wasn’t his intention when he climbed through your window that night. “Maybe I should go. I’m sorry.”
Your eyes widened as you saw Logan begin to leave. You felt panic settle in. Logan was already in the window about to climb down.
“Logan!” you almost yelled but you were quick to hush your volume. He immediately turned back to you with his brow furrowed. His name came out of your mouth before you could even realize what you were saying. “Please don’t go,” you choked out, “Please.”
He wanted nothing more than to take you with him, show you exactly how well he could treat you.
“I’ll see you at the ball tomorrow.”
“It’s been a pleasure speaking with you, sir” you forced a smile before performing a small curtsey.
“I’m sure, princess,” the duke retorted before kissing the back of your hand. “I hope to grace your presence again soon. ”
You nodded before the Duke of Goldigo went on his way. Internally, you gagged. The Duke of Goldigo was ignorant and a narcissist. Yet, he wasn’t the worst of the night, and that was saying a lot.
Whenever you finished talking to a suitor, you would immediately look for Logan. Your eyes would quickly scan the room, hoping to still see him there serving. You missed him a few times but caught him talking and giving o'dourves to a few guests from time to time. You desperately wanted to talk to him, but you knew you would get wrapped up in conversation with him as you did on a daily basis in the garden. And you knew the both of you would get in trouble if you both weren’t on your jobs—your job being to wed.
But maybe grabbing an o'dourves wouldn’t hurt, right? Of course, it would be Logan holding your favorite. It’s like he knew you could eventually bring yourself over. You began your trek over to Logan who was just across the ballroom, and damn, he looked amazing in that white button up.
You happily nodded at the guest as you walked past other guests. A couple of the suitors you talked to earlier smirked or winked at you, some vying for your attention, but you pretended as if you didn’t see them. As you neared him, Logan looked up and saw your eyes meet his. He gave you a soft smile.
“I didn’t know they would be serving bruschetta at this event,” you smiled as you grabbed a piece.
“Only the best for the princess,” Logan smiled, but you could tell that it wasn’t fully heartfelt. You could imagine that he was still hurt after yesterday. You were still hurt too, but putting together a good appearance is something you were used to doing for these types of events.
“How are you, Logan?” you muttered, attempting to keep your conversation low key.
He took a deep breath and sighed, “Honestly?” You nodded. “I wish I could take you out onto the floor and dance with you like a proper gentleman, actually vie for your hand…but I guess holding your favorite o'dourve will have to do. How about you?”
You slightly smiled and nodded, “Wishing I could be anything but a princess right now.”
All you wanted was to take Logan’s hand and run out of the dance hall—show him how much you want to be with him. Logan wanted that too, and if he had the money and power the other men in this room held, he would have. He would’ve whisked you away, whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you were alone.
“The fair and beautiful, princess,” another prince almost growled as he took your hand. You immediately felt uneasy; it was also obvious to Logan. Instead of giving the prince the face of disgust, you softly smiled. “Care for a dance?”
You looked back at Logan who looked like he was trying to keep his composure. You placed your appetizer back on his tray. “It would be my pleasure.”
He led you to the middle of the floor, but you couldn’t help but to look back at Logan as he went away to cater to the guests, his heart breaking in the process.
The evening was ending and many of the guests began their departures, even you had retired to your chambers. There were some suitors there, talking with your father. As Logan helped clean up the hall, he overheard conversation between the men and your father. He hated the way they talked about you. They didn’t care if you were happy or not. Even your father seemed to be neglecting your happiness. They pondered if you were submissive, had a good body to bear sons, and so on.
They talked about you as if you were a piece of cattle at auction. In reality, you were everything to Logan. His entire world began and ended with you.
He’d had enough.
Logan left his section to clean before heading down the hallway. He attempted to maintain his composure as he passed by maids in the hallway. But he was making a beeline to your chambers. He could feel his adrenaline ramping up as he got closer to your room. His heart could practically beat out of his chest. He finally reached your door. He took a deep breath before putting hand on the handle.
Before he could turn the handle, he heard a brief huff and then a sob.
You were crying.
Logan didn’t even knock. He cracked the door open and saw your body leaned against the window, your hands covering your face. You were already out of your ballgown and in a simple slip. He quickly slipped in before anyone saw. You didn’t hear the door close between the sounds of your sobs. He hated seeing you like this. He knew he’d do anything to make you feel better.
“Sweetheart?” Logan sighed from across the room. You heard him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn to him. He approached you from behind, wrapping your arms around you. “I’m here.”
You shook your head, “Logan…I can’t…” you hiccuped. He turned you around to see your face. Your eyes were puffy and red, but you were still a beautiful sight to him. “We can’t keep doing this, seeing each other. It only makes this harder.”
“I know, I know, so if you want, I won’t come to you like this anymore. I just—” Logan's voice drifted, yet he still appeared focused. He had firm hands on your hips while you laid your hands over his. “I know I said I couldn’t ask you to do this, and I know you love our country, but I need you, sweetheart. I can’t live knowing you’re married to some pompous rake who doesn’t even respect you as the woman you are.”
You took a deep breath as your eyes widened, “Logan, what are you—” Before you could even finish your sentence, he was taking a knee. “James…”
“I know I’m asking a lot of you. I’m asking for you to live a humble life—a life without the riches and spoils you no doubt deserve with a man who has only served you all his life. But I’ll be damned if a day goes by that you don’t feel loved, respected, and cared for. And I wanna spend the rest of my life making sure you feel that way.” Logan pulled out a necklace from his pocket and showed it to you. “This betrothal necklace belonged to my mother the day my father proposed. I was going to ask you last night, but you respect your duty, and I respect that. But after seeing and hearing how those men think of you, the thought of someone taking your hand—someone who does not see you the way I do—I have to at least ask.”
You didn’t even think you could produce more tears, but you felt more brimming. However, they were warm from hope, not hot from sadness.
“So, ask me, James, you whispered as you fell to your knees to meet his eyeline. “Please…”
Your full title fell from his mouth with an ease. Just sitting on the floor in your chambers out of the watchful eyes of others—it was the most comfortable you felt all night. You hung onto every word. “Will you do me the honors of living a humble life as my wife?”
“Yes, yes, Logan, yes.” Your words got stuck in your chest, but your confidence grew as you continued to speak. You quickly nodded and huffed, “Only if we can leave tonight.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” Logan wildly smiled as he wrapped the necklace around your neck. You pulled him into a kiss that was more passionate than the one from yesterday. You felt your heart warm, and for the first time all day, you felt comfort, warmth, love. You prepared to leave. You left notes for your siblings and parents, praying they’d understand.
You were going to miss your life; it was an easy one. Yet, a life without Logan would have been much harder.
♡ Warning/Tags: SMUT, MINORS DNI, p-v sex, slight fingering, desk sex, Logan is a good boy for you
♡ Summary: you give Logan a lesson of silence when you take control in your classroom
♡ Note: this came to me in a vision while at work
Walking around your classroom, you examined your students as they worked in pairs to finish their worksheets. It was Friday, and the kids were uncharacteristically focused. As a reward, you allowed them to begin their homework early since you were able to breeze through your lesson. You peered over your students’ shoulders, most of them finished with their assignment and chose to chat instead. With a few minutes left in the class, you decided to get your kids ready to go.
“Alright, guys,” you bellowed, catching each students’ attention as you made your way to the front of the classroom again, “We only have a few minutes left, and I saw that many of you have already completed your assignment, and correctly!” you jested, receiving some giggles from your students.
“So, like I said earlier, plants are kind of like us, but they’re still different.” As you began, your focus moved to the open classroom door, Logan leaning on the doorframe. You heard some of the kids in the back say hi to him, all of them trained at this point to call him Mr. Logan. He smirked against the frame anyway and started to become a distraction to your students. “They get hungry, too, but how do they eat?”
A few of your students raised their hands, but you couldn’t help but notice Logan talking to your students in the corner, being a further distraction. “Mr. Logan,” you call him instead, catching his attention. “Since you are here, you might as well learn something, too. Can you tell me what plants eat?”
A number of students chuckled. Logan slightly shrugged, “I didn’t know they ate, darling.”
“Well not as much as you do, Mr. Logan,” you quipped, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile. The laugh from your students was boisterous; thanks to Logan, and your own petty behavior, you knew they’d be unfocused for the last few minutes. Whenever Logan decided to bother your class, it felt like an unspoken competition on who could make your students laugh more. In reality, Logan just liked teasing you in front of your students. You used to get very flustered when he started this, but now, you matched his sarcastic wit. “But yes, they do eat.”
His eyes went playfully wide with a wry smile as your class essentially broke out into laughter and conversation. You knew this was his plan. Logan knew your narrowed and targeted eyes, crossed arms, and pout was your way of calling him an asshole in a room full of children. Definitely worth it, in his opinion.
“We will talk about photosynthesis next week, so I’ll dismiss you guys a little early, alright?” you yelled over your students’ voices. They all quickly began packing up, still chattering. “But Mr. Logan, stay after class,” you said as sternly as you could over the noise of the kids. It was loud enough for your students to voice a number of ooohs.
You began erasing your white board for the day as the kids began saying bye to both you and Logan. Hearing the scattering of the last set of feet, you next heard Logan close the door ensuring it was also locked.
“Don’t you have a history class that should’ve been ending right now instead of bothering me?” you scorned, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend, a hint of humor in your voice.
“They’re working on papers,” Logan shrugged, another smirk grew across his lips as he crossed his arms, “I thought I told you that this morning.”
“It’s hard to hear you when your face is buried between my thighs, Lo.”
In hopes of just hearing what his Friday entailed, you asked this morning as you prepared to go get ready for the day in your own room at five in the morning. Logan thought the time would be better served by getting an early morning taste of you. He found a way to do both, but you were soon interrupted.
“Regardless, you look damn good when you teach,” Logan cooed as sauntered over toward you, “Why would I wanna miss that?”
You finished erasing your board before placing the eraser down, “Yeah? Sit down, you might learn something, baby.”
“Oh yeah?” Logan raised an eyebrow at your statement before letting out a chuckle. He walked over to your desk and sat on the edge. “Then go ahead and teach me something. I’m more of a hands-on learner though, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I know,” you slyly muttered as you ran your hands over his taut thighs until they spread enough for you to stand between them. You brought your hands to his chest, massaging his pecs before moving to his shoulders. He let out a small hum, pulling you closer by your waist.“I actually think you could teach me a thing or two, too, Mr. Logan.”
You could tell he was already mentally undressing you out of your olive dress. The heat between you was palpable. He moved his hands down to give your ass a squeeze under your dress, slightly spreading your cheeks before his hand traveled to the small of your back. The moaned gasp you let out was genuine. “What could I possibly teach the most beautiful and smart woman in the world?”
He was laying it on thick. Probably because neither of you had a lot to address your more intimate needs as of late. His words, no matter how many times he said something like this, made it difficult for you to look at him directly. You momentarily looked away, but Logan was quick to lift up your chin between his two fingers.
You were forced to reconnect with his darkeden eyes. “Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. Aren’t you supposed to be the teacher here?”
His teasing tone made you stand up straight, taking notice of how your touch was affecting him.“I am…” Both of your hands traveled dangerously close to his groin. Logan let out a frustrated growl as you touch was merely teasing him now. Your hand briefly moved over his hardened groin before moving to his tease thigh, “and you’re not being a good student.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying your delicate touch before opening them to look up at you again. His gaze held a bit of lust as he spoke in a slightly breathless tone, “You’re one to talk, sweetheart..touching me like this in your classroom…”
One of your hands gripped his t-shirt, pulling him closer toward you. Your face was nuzzled into his neck. His hand that was once gripping your chin fell over chest. Your tone was low and sultry as you breathed near his ear, “Thought you were a hands-on learner, hm?”
Logan couldn’t help but shiver slightly from your breath on his ear. His cock was painfully straining against his jeans. From his low growl, you knew he had enough of your teasing. “You’re right,” He hand swiftly moved from your chest between your legs. A gasped moan jumped from your throat when Logan’s rough fingers rubbed over your sensitive folds. “I am a little more hands-on.”
Logan smirked the moment he heard your moan. You nuzzled yourself further into his neck, stating the opportunity to leave a line of hot kisses from his jaw to the collar of his shirt. The damp spot that Logan felt on your panties didn’t do your folds justice. His finger easily slicked through them once he pushed your panties aside.
“You been wet like this all day, baby?” Logan lowly asked. “This wet since I had my taste this morning of ya?”
As your response, your hand palmed his covered cock, creating the friction that Logan desperately needed.
Logan could only let out a low growl of pleasure as you continued to kiss down his neck and palm him. The feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin was driving him insane. He quickly pulled you to his lap so that you were properly straddling him. His other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, giving it a rough squeeze. Your wet core grinded against Logan’s cock, reminding you both how badly you needed this.
Your hands gripped his muscular back as you leaned back to look at your boyfriend. He was flushed with lust before pulling you into an intense kiss. Drowning in the moment, Logan’s tongue quickly danced with yours as your hips rolled against his.
Logan wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against his body. He hummed in satisfaction as his cock rubbed against your core. He could feel how wet you were getting and it only made him want you more. He was practically aching to be inside of you. Your cunt was clenching the air, begging to be filled.
“First lesson,” you muttered against his lips. Your hand went to undo his belt before moving toward his zipper, “keep quiet, baby…”
Logan huffed and groaned as you went for his belt and tried to keep his volume down. You were in a classroom after all. It was Friday, but anyone could be in the hallway. He wanted to make a smartass remark but the only thing he could get out of his mouth was another low growl.
“Y-yeah, whatever you say, sweetheart.”
You smirked at the desperation in his voice as you finished undoing his button and zipper. “Promise to be a good boy? Keep quiet for me? Make sure no one catches us?” you whispered against his neck, pulling out his cock. You felt his cock twitch in your hand from your words alone. Your thumb rubbed over the head, smoothing his precum over it.
Logan was very used to dominating you, throwing you in the exact positions he envisioned. Watching you take control in your own classroom was a new thrill that he didn’t know he’d be so into.
You were clearly waiting for his response, only rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb as you looked at him with bedroom eyes. “I promise I’ll be good, baby . I’ll be nice and quiet for you.”
You hummed, hearing what you wanted, before moving your own panties aside. You sank onto his cock at an antagonizing speed. Feeling filled to the brim, you groaned against Logan’s shoulder to follow your own advice.
Logan held in a deep moan. Determined to be good for you, he released his moan through a deep sigh. His hands were clinging onto your hips and his shoulders were tensed up from the effort to keep his noises inside as he looked up at you.
Looking rather pleased with yourself as you warmed his cock for a beat, you slowly started to roll your hips against his. Logan’s eyes could only watch you in a mixture of lust and affection. You looked so absolutely beautiful on his lap. His grip on your hips tightened as you rocked against him. Feeling you clench around him, Logan could only respond with low, labored breaths.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so fucking good. Just like that, Lo. Just like that.” Your hips began picking up their pace. You place your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. With the desk reinforced to the floor, you could only hear the guttural whine leave Logan’s mouth, a sound you never heard from him before.
Logan hated how much he loved hearing the words leaving your gorgeous lips. He looked like he was struggling to keep himself under control. He was clenching his teeth tightly and breathing heavily.
You felt a sense of pride as you receive reactions from your boyfriend that you’ve never gotten before. Seeing him desperate and bothered only encouraged you to push him even further. Staying continuously clenched around him as you rode him. Biting your lip, you kept your moans at bay.
Logan was struggling, “F-fuuck…c’mon, sweetheart, m-making it so damn hard.”
“I know, Lo…just a little longer. I’m so fucking close, baby,” you whined, chasing your high. Keeping one arm wrapped around his neck, your other hand scrapped at his shirt, gathering the material with your nails.
Logan could feel himself getting close as you continued to clench around him. He knew his finish was going to be intense. Hell, your words alone had him breathing heavily and you were doing most of the work as you were practically bouncing on him now.
Logan’s lips moved down to your collarbone, nipping at the tight skin. You bit your lip to contain your own moans as Logan nipped on your skin. It was enough to bring you over the edge, “Oh f-fuck, Logan, Logan, Logan, I’m c-coming, baby.” Your voice was low and whiny as you continued rough movements.
Logan placed a hand on your back to pull you closer, your chest pressed against his.“S-shit, baby! Ah, fuc–” Logan's volume was quickly increasing as he reached his high; you were quick to clasped your hand over his mouth as you both reached your peak.
You continued to fuck Logan through his high until you felt the warm of his cum shoot inside you, beautifully coating your walls. Logan's throaty groan was smothered by your hand, his eyes practically rolling to the back of head as he came down from his climax. You both were seeing stars in your classroom.
Your hand dropped from Logan’s mouth; it was quickly replaced with your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. You felt Logan chuckle against your lips.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” He was still clearly out of breath.
You breathlessly sighed with soft pants, “I-I know…you did great, baby,” you cooed, caressing your bearded cheek in your hand. “I’m surprised we didn’t break the desk,” you teased.
“Hell, you almost broke me,” Logan gruffed as you moved off of him. You used some nearby tissue to clean yourself off.
You laughed as you and Logan both fixed your appearances, “Don’t pretend like you didn’t love my little lesson,” you slyly smiled.
“Like I said,” he muttered, pulling you against his chest when he stood up, “you look damn good when you teach.”
♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)
♡ Warning/Tags: suggestions of child/adult abuse (no detail), mentions of violence (little detail), mutant/vigilante reader, suggestive language, Logan being a lil flirty menace (i love it)
♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable
♡ Note: reader has the same power as Diego from Umbrella Academy which I just summarized as projectile manipulation. also! this is a plotline i've fiddled with for years across different marvel characters and i finally found a way to make it work! i'd expect more parts because it'd looovvvve to tease Logan
Logan stood out of apartment 404 of a modern apartment building. Given the fact that Charles told him to come here to retrieve what he had described as a vigilante who could use some guidance. Yet, he was surprised to see such a dangerous person living in such a swanky place. It was none of his business, he thought.
He pounded on the door. No one answered. He groaned, pounding the door again, “Hey! Anyone home?” He heard the slightest of footsteps before hearing a voice.
“I’d be careful about pounding on a stranger's door,” you called back in a short tone. A woman, Logan thought.
“Oh, why’s that?” Logan scoffed, folding his arms over his chest.
You cocked your shotgun loudly enough for Logan to hear. You aimed it toward the door, “You never know where you might find trouble.”
Logan lowly chuckled to himself. He went to open the door; to his surprise, it was unlocked. He slowly pushed it open. There stood you, a double-barrel shotgun aimed toward Logan’s head. “Trouble, yeah?”
He glanced at you, not intimidated by the shotgun as he didn’t even attempt to move from the line of fire. You didn’t back down, still aiming the gun at his head, “Not scared of a little lead between your eyes?”
Logan closed the door, assuming you didn’t want your fancy neighbors seeing you about to gun down a man. Couldn’t bear to splatter his brains onto the community hallway. “Lead? Nah, I’ve dealt with a lot worse.” he smirked, casually leaning against the door.
Your eyes narrowed in his direction; no one came to your door. Ever. You took a deep breath, tilting your head in curiosity with the man in front of you. It was never your intention to know him, but you did. You slightly lowered the gun, “You're like me.”
He raised an eyebrow, “Depends. What’cha mean by that?”
“I mean what I mean.”
He sighed, his breath dripping with annoyance, “Kid, I don’t do riddles. Spit it out before you piss me off.”
“You, Logan, are a mutant,” you spat while completely lowering your gun further. You knew you didn’t have the firepower to take him down. “The Wolverine.” Your voice was song-like as you teased him with an eye roll.
He was surprised by your blunt answer; he was even more surprised by the fact that you knew what—who he was without any additional prompts. He chuckled in mild disbelief, “What? You a telepath or something?”
You chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest, “No…but Stryker used to talk about you allll the time,” you teased, striking a deep nerve in Logan.
His fists clenched as he stood up straighter. He appeared defensive as if this was all an elaborate set up by Stryker somehow. If it wasn’t Charles that had sent him, he would have let his mind go there. Yet, it didn’t feel like Charles sending him to this apartment was a coincidence either. Still, looking at you, you looked too young to be around when Stryker was at his peak.
“You know Stryker? How old are you?” By his demanding tone, you knew Logan wasn’t messing around anymore.
You leaned against the arm of the couch, “The only thing Stryker loved more than having mutants do his bidding was perfecting his soldiers,” you bit the inside of your cheek to maintain your composure, “but you? Ohh, you were his favorite. You broke the mold and all he wanted to do was put that perfect mold back together.” You spoke with a disdain that Logan couldn’t figure if it was directed towards Stryker or him. His gut was telling him both.
“I was only sixteen when Styker found me. He called me his best gun.”
That piqued his interest, “Why’s that?”
As Logan finished his sentence, you threw a spear point knife in Logan’s direction. Before he had a chance to react, the knife banked left into a wooden board hanging on the wall. Logan approached the small board, seeing the multiple knife marks wedged into it. It was out of place compared to the pricier art work that adorned the walls. He huffed turning back to you.
“You control metal, too?” he snarked, hoping Charles didn’t send him to find the second coming of Erik.
“Projectile manipulation—knives, bullets, really anything that’s airborne,” you explained. “But that isn’t enough for Stryker…I can’t explain how he did it, but he was hellbent on making me practically immortal…kinda like you. It took him a couple of years. The trials were…” your voice drifted off as the pang of dread filled your chest.
Logan felt for you, imagining you at sixteen under the oppressive thumb of Stryker. Your eyes wavered from his for the first time. Although Logan was probably one of the few people left in the world that he had any clue what you had been through—the things you were probably made to do—you didn't appear to want his sympathy.
“But you’re out,” Logan stated, trying to offer some semblance of perspective, “Obviously doing your own thing—things Stryker never would have approved of.”
“That’s because I killed him when I escaped.”
Your words heavily weighed on him. He had been looking for Stryker on his own for a while. He raced down every lead on his own time—pulled every thread, turned over every stone. He just assumed that Stryker was alive somewhere underground.
Though shocked, he was impressed, “So you weren’t just a lab rat, you had some fire in you, huh?”
Slowly approaching Logan, your stare was intense. “Unlike you, I had the balls to do something about Stryker instead of just leaving,” you spat.
Logan’s jaw clenched. His patience became thin as he took a step toward you as well, making you well aware of your size difference. “You don’t know me, sweetheart. I don’t have to explain myself to you, so don’t you go around acting all holier than thou.” Truthfully, it did cross Logan’s mind. He hadn’t seen Stryker in decades. But if he had ended him when he had left, how many lives would be unchanged? Looking at you now hearing the hurt in your voice, he was face-to-face with his unconfirmed yet biggest regret. “You’ve got no goddamn idea what I’ve been through!”His tone was gruff and curt.
Like a slap, you chuckled at his remarks. “Right, sixteen year old female lab rat? Gotta be a walk in the park,” you muttered under your breath. Logan’s imagination didn’t have to stretch far to figure what you had gone through, not just in the field but in the lab, too. You roughly brushed past him and pulled your knife out of the wall, securing it in the sleeve, “But you didn’t pound on my door to talk about Stryker, did you?”
Logan dug his hands into his pockets as you walked back into his view, “I came to talk about what you did—what you do. Your little ‘heroics’ as a vigilante.”
You hummed, “And?”
“They’ve been noticed.” He took out a flask before taking a swig of it. He glanced back to you. “I’m here to assess whether you’re a threat or not.”
“And the verdict?”
His eyes narrowed, analyzing you from head to toe. You assumed he was analyzing how many weapons you had on you. He pulled out his phone, showing you an array of photos.
They were photos of you from various nights with different dates with a variety of men. The police called them victims. You had more…colorful language to describe these men. In some photos, your hair was brown and short, black and long and so on.
“They aren’t dead, you know,” you feigned innocence with an insincere pout and wide eyes.
The level of violence would suggest otherwise. “No, just close.”
You hummed before taking Logan’s flask, taking a drink from it. He didn’t stop you. “Then I’m sure you know what they did to deserve this, Wolvie.” He knew the general idea, but he looked at you for an answer. You swiped through the photos. Some of them were surveillance, others were crime scene photos. “Phil Stanford: beat his wife so badly that she lost her baby in the second trimester. Jones Hill: almost drowned his girlfriend’s child just to teach her a lesson. And these guys? They passed around their intern to each other like she was a piece of meat.”
You showed Logan each crime scene photo. You remembered every single one like you got the assignment yesterday, remembered the satisfaction of leaving the hotel rooms that they paid for. Awaiting his reprimand, you took another swig before giving it back.
“Look, sweetheart, I get it,” Logan admitted. You raised your brows in surprise, but now, the reason for this visit felt clear. “The Man Eater; it’s fitting.”
“I didn’t give myself that name.”
“It sticked though.”
“Why are you really here? Did Charles send you?” Your question, again, surprised Logan. Was there anything you didn’t already know, Logan thought as he took another drink.
“You know Charles, too, huh? How long?”
You shrugged, “Like 20 something years. He’s always trying to sell me on the whole family and team shit. I never bought it; I’m better on my own. Still, Charles was always good to me when our paths crossed.”
Logan noticed your body tense when you mentioned family. He understood though. “I thought the same thing a few years ago before Charles found me. I was wrong,” Logan admitted. You could tell that it took at least a little bit out of him to admit that; vulnerability was clearly not his forte. Logan just thought you were lying to yourself.
“Charles and I had an agreement where he’d never get in my mind again. But instead, he sends a Stryker experiment, like myself, not only for him to determine if I’m a threat to what I can only assume is how the public views mutants but also to remind me that I shouldn’t be going through life alone, right?”
There wasn’t much for him to say; you had said it all. Instead, he offered you his flask. He only nodded at your statement as you took the flask. You couldn’t say that you were surprised that Charles used this specific tactic. He definitely didn’t have to get into your mind to play mind games.
You took a final swig from the container, taking the last drop of the liquor, “Did you also send you to bring me to the mansion?”
“Charles said that you may not come willingly; I told him that I’d do what I can. Even if that was just to extend the invite.”
You chuckled to yourself, “You never truly escape the grasp of Charles Xavier.” You pulled a coat off the hook near Logan. “But I guess we’re due for a reunion. I’ll go with you…peacefully even.”
Logan grunted slightly. He had no plans of forcing or fighting with you, even before he met you. Though, he was curious how you’d fare in a fight. The photos indicated you were brutal, having the ability to leave someone on the brink of death. Yet, Logan doubted that any of these men saw it coming. Getting a look at you today, he was sure the men were just excited to be in the company of a beautiful woman. Like a siren, he was sure he could be lured by you.
“Good,” he muttered, as he watched you open your apartment door, trotting out of it.
You followed Logan outside, immediately eyeing the bike he was approaching, “That bike yours?”
He nodded, looking at the bike. He had left it in a nearby parking lot. It was a black and silver Harley Davidson motorcycle and a damn expensive one. He turned to look at you, “Yeah, you ever been on a motorcycle?”
”I’ve had a few Harleys in my lifetime,” you mentioned, your hand slowly grazing over the bike and the leather of the seats. “Went to Milwaukee and got one off the line back in the 90s.”
He lifted an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. He hadn’t expected that. He slowly walked over the bike, getting ready to mount it. He looked back at you with a smirk, “So, you’re a Harley girl?”
You mounted the back, testing out the suspension, “Show me any bike and I’ll show a Harley that does it better.”
He laughed as he watched you get comfortable on his bike, “You think Harley’s better than a Triumph? Hell, you think Harley’s are better than a Ducati?” He mounted the bike and pulled out his key.
“Nothing’s beating American-made, baby,” you shrugged with a smile. You could tell how amused Logan as he shook his head “That’s why I got one in the garage and two in storage. A Street 750, LiveWire, and a Fat Boy.”
He slowly looked over his shoulder again to look at you, obviously impressed. You had good taste. “And you can handle all that, princess?”
“You’d be surprised what I can handle, Wolvie,” you lowly spoke, maintaining eye contact until he went to turn the engine.
“Then you know the drill.” The engine added a layer of low rumble to his voice. “Hold on, sweetheart.”
You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his brown leather jacket to connect around his waist. With it being cold out, you almost audibly sighed when you felt the warmth radiating off of him. It was combined with the slight scent of mahogany, pine, and smoke.
Logan kicked the stand up before speeding off. You held on a little tighter as he sped up and weaved through traffic. Logan felt pleased with himself as he felt you gripping him tighter. He weaved through traffic, unconcerned with the angry car drivers he was surely pissing off. You couldn’t sit there and say you hadn’t done the same, but Logan had no reason to be in this much of a rush. You believed that he just liked being an asshole.
Once out of the city, the roads to the mansion began looking familiar. More into the countryside, traffic lessened and Logan’s speeds picked up. As you approached, you could begin to feel the raindrops begin to fall from the sky. You looked up to see the clouds threatening to release a storm. Luckily, Logan was quick to pull into the garage of the mansion before it began to downpour. Logan pulled up to the garage, parking the bike and killing the engine.
“You ride like an asshole,” you spat as you dismounted off the bike.
Logan was amused with you snapping at him, “And if I waited in traffic, we would’ve got caught in that rain and it would've drench that little white tee of yours.” He let down the kickstand. A smirk formed across Logan’s lips as he turned back to see you still standing by the bike. His eyes clearly raked your body, “Actually, maybe I should’ve waited.”
You scoffed as you watched him dismound. “I’m assuming Charles is still in the room at the end of the hall on the top floor to the left?” You opted to just change the subject.
“You know this place well, don’t you?” Logan asked as he walked you out of the garage to the inside of the mansion.
It was exactly how you remembered it, “Well enough. I met Charles back when he wanted to make this place a school. Make it a safe haven for children like us, he’d say.” You thought it was fun pipe-dream at the time, believing there couldn’t be a safe space for mutants. He was obviously more optimistic than you ever were. “Some things have changed here, but it’s practically timeless.
Logan led you up the stairs, “So, you keep coming back, but you never stay.”
“Like I said, I’m better alone.”
“Sure you are,” he muttered under his breath. You could still pick up on the sass in his voice. You shot him a glare. “You’re better alone, yet you jump at the chance to see the man who has been pestering you for years? You like him checking up on you? Showing you he cares?”
You didn’t immediately respond as you two walked the hallways. The sound of the rain colliding with the roof filled the space instead. There weren’t many contant people in your life. When you first met Charles, he could tell he genuinely cared. He wouldn’t keep checking in if he didn’t care. You just weren’t sure if you had the capacity to care in that same way. It felt easier not to.
“It’s complicated,” you sighed as you approached Charles’s room.
“Not that complicated,” Logan mumbled before knocking on the door and pushing it open.
Charles greeted you and Logan before the door was fully opened. You entered both annoyed and relieved to see your old friend. You hadn’t seen him in about 3 years
Logan entered behind you. He stepped quietly to avoid drawing attention to himself for the moment. Charles slowly looked up from the book he was reading and smiled softly. He looked happy to see you again.
“It’s nice to see you again, my dear. Come in, have a seat,” you offered, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.
“I think I’ll stand,” you replied, still approaching him. “You sent one of your lackeys to come get me?” you asked as you pointed toward Logan.
Logan gave a huff of annoyance at the word lackey; it felt borderline disrespectful. Charles gave a heavy sigh, looking unbothered by your question.
“I did, but I believe I said that we’d speak again soon the last time we were together,” Charles reminded you. “I told you living alone was no way to live. The world is a dangerous place. Surely you know that, my dear. I just think it would be safer if you were here, with us, where you’re protected.”
“I don’t need protection,” you huffed.
“Not physically. You still need people—connection.” You felt like the conversation was a broken record, yet you always listened. “You have no one, my dear. No friends or loved ones—”
“Not true, we’ve been friends for over 20 years, and I’ll even consider making Logan a friend to mentally protect myself,” you cut him off, trying to humor the conversation. Charles was not amused. Logan was though.
Charles sighed. He could see that you were frustrated and being stubborn, masking it with humor. He knew you had always been a lone wolf. He had hoped that maybe time would change that, but obviously not.
“Is this truly how you want to live out your days? Alone?”
You glanced over to Logan who was also staring at you, “I already explained this to Wolvie. And thanks for sending him. I’m sure it was a meeting that Stryker would have loved seeing.”
Logan was listening to the interaction, though he was trying to keep his mouth shut. Charles could see that he was teeming with his own opinions, and decided to speak in his own defense.
“I thought Logan would be a good choice. He can deal with your stubbornness,” Charles admitted.
“You knew that I wouldn’t be able to kill him.”
Charles sighed again, knowing a part of that was true. You were more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of girl. He wasn’t going to outright agree with your statement. He knew it would cause more conflict, but Logan spoke up, unable to stop himself.
“You didn’t even try, princess. Going soft?” he teased from the peanut gallery of the conversation.
Looking over your shoulder, you glared at him, “Fresh out of adamantium bullets; might need to invest now.”
Logan's chuckle at your response got lost in the rumble of the thunder. He was just enjoying this interaction between you and Charles. Getting a rise out of you was just a bonus.
You do protect others,” Charles interrupted. Knowing both you and Logan, he figured you two could bicker for hours if given the chance. “You can do that here.”
“I don’t think you want me running my work out of this place, right?”
“No,” he simply stated, “but our students—our future students—don’t always come from the best homes…you may not need us, but we need you, dear.”
You hated to admit it, but that stuck with you. Your home life wasn’t good. Yet, it paled in comparison to your life with Stryker. You waited for help that never came. The number of unanswered prayers you had shot up always fell flat. Being the help for someone like you? It spoke to you.
You slightly paced, thinking while the storm outside roared, “I’m not a good team player, Charles. I’ve given it a try and it’s not my cup of tea. I appreciate the offer, but I think I oughta go home.” Near the end of your sentence, the loud rumble of the thunder made you jump.
Logan smirked slightly when he saw you jump. He took note of this, an idea forming in his mind. The storm was pretty intense outside, the rain pouring and thunder roaring. Logan spoke up, his tone slightly amused.
“You gonna run through that, princess?”
You huffed as, again, Logan had a point. You looked at the window, the wind whipping the rain in all directions. You groaned to yourself and paced back toward Charles.
“How about I stay the night and think about it?” you offered. For the first time in 20 years, you were on the fence instead of jetting home.
Charles had some gleam of hope. You were appearing to give this more consideration than you had in the past. “That’s a good idea, my dear. You can spend the night, think about it, and I’ll talk to you again in the morning. How does that sound?”
“Peachy,” your tone was short.
Charles chose not to comment on your attitude; you were here and that was a lot farther than he's ever gotten. “Very good…I expect we’ll be able to speak again in the morning. Logan, do you mind showing our guest her room for the night?”
You rolled your eyes before turning to look at the gruff man standing against the wall near the door. Logan chuckled slightly as you turned to look at him. He appreciated how cute you looked when you were upset.
He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and walked over to you, that signature smirk on his face. “Well, come on, princess. I’ll show you to your room.”
You rolled your eyes as you allowed Logan to exit the room first. Logan led you down the hallway, passing rooms where students were staying. Some were roaming the hallways as well. There were a lot of them, all different ages and different powers, all just…happy. Logan glanced back at you, noticing how jarring the amount kids must be to you.
“Not used to being around this many kids, huh?” Logan asked.
You shook your head, “You just live with all these kids?
Logan chuckled, continuing to lead you down the hallway. He shrugged, “Eh, it ain’t too bad. It was a lot at first, but they’re good kids. And Charles is right, they need someone like you. Someone who’s skilled and gives a shit.”
You could see the sense of pride and protectiveness Logan had for the children just by the way he looked at them. For the first time in years, you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t even know your heart could do that anymore. The little smiles and greetings he got secretly warmed your heart. “And the kids seem to like you.”
He chuckled again, “You sound surprised.”
“Well, you just seem to have an asshole vibe rather than a nurturing one.”
Logan shrugged, “There are enough people here that baby them. I ain’t one of them. I imagine you being the same way, sweetheart.”
You passed a group of older female students, all of them saying hi to ‘Mr. Logan’ before erupting into fits of giggles. Logan didn’t pay it any mind. Glancing over your shoulder as they walked by, you could recognize the teasing of girls with crushes.
“Ohhh, I’m sure the girls love it,” you teased.
Logan lowly laughed at your little comment, “They have their little crushes. Not only do they love it, they also think I'm a pretty damn good looking guy too, princess.”
You felt like gagging at his response, “They’ll grow out of it,” you retorted as you approached the guest room.
Logan chuckled again. He was just enjoying your banter and entertained how you responded to him each time. He was amused by your scoffing and eye rolls. He opened the door to your room, watching you closely as you walked in.
“I doubt it, princess. Most women seem to love me damn well into adulthood.
“Oh yeah? You’re just too damn irresistible? They just can’t help themselves?” The layer of sarcasm on your words was thick.
Your words were only fueling his ego and that damn smirk on his face. He leaned against the door frame, shamelessly eyeing you. “Just ask all the women I’ve been with. Not a one that didn’t want more.”
As irritating as Logan was to you in this moment, it was something to do—someone to mess with. You approached him, your eyes gazing into his, until your hands were pressed against his chest. You felt his breath hitch against your palms. You leaned up to whisper into his ear, “You keep telling yourself that, Wolvie.”
Logan let out a bit of a grumble at your words, his hands gripping the doorframe to control himself. “You think I’m lying?”
You allowed your finger to dance across his chest, noticing the prominent definition of it, “I just think you overestimate your own…abilities…”
“Sweetheart, I think I can prove damn well that I don't have to overestimate anything…" His voice was low. His eyes wandered to your heaving chest, knowing he had an effect on you, whether you wanted to admit it or not.
Your eyes narrowed, “What are you? The mansion’s welcome wagon concubine?”
“It’s a new…package offered with the welcome wagon.”
You slyly smiled. With your hands on his chest, you pushed him with enough force to push him into the hallway, despite his grip on the frame. “Good night, Logan.”
You closed the door in Logan’s face before he could make another snide remark. Finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you could hear the hearty yet low laugh from Logan on the other side of the door.
You hated how fluttered Logan made, how he made your heart race. He was shameless with his flirtations. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving in, no matter how tempting it was. He needed to be knocked down a peg. Still, it was hard to ignore the heat between your legs.
Logan was still outside in the hallway, standing right outside your door and still chuckling to himself. He could feel the heat that formed when he was pressed so close to you; he hadn’t felt like that in a long time. He smirked and shook his head. He was going to have some damn fun with you…
note: I'd love to do a part 2! tell me your thoughts♡
♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)
♡ Warning/Tags: suggestions of child/adult abuse (no detail), mentions of violence (little detail), mutant/vigilante reader, suggestive language, Logan being a lil flirty menace (i love it)
♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable...if you can call it teasing...
♡ Note: worked very hard to post this on hugh's birthday in celebration! also! if you requested a part two, I tagged you. if you'd like to be added or removed, let me know!
In the middle of the night, you tossed and turned in your sleep. The mattress was soft, the room warm, the available sweats you found in the drawers were too comfortable. It should have been perfect. Yet, the hairs surrounding your forehead began to stick. You never slept well in new environments, always feeling on edge. Each creek of the old mansion raised the hair on the back of your neck. It gave you time to think about Charles’s proposition.
You didn’t want to admit it to Charles or Logan, life in your apartment was a tad lonely, too quiet. Silence was conflicting. In the same way it brought peace, it brought dread. Waiting for the inevitable break was like torture. Breaking it yourself—losing yourself in work—at least made it predictable. Gigs, at least paid ones, were far and few in between. Not much was breaking the silence nowadays.
You looked over at the clock seeing it was 2am. You got yourself out of bed, slowly roaming the halls of the mansion. The weight of your steps on the wood floor would be more prominent if not for the storm that still roared outside. Otherwise, there wasn’t a stir in the mansion. It was different from hours prior. The laughter and conversations of children could be heard from your room until you fell asleep.
Down the end of the hallway, you could see the gleam of light around the corner. From your recollection, it had to be the kitchen. You hesitantly followed the light, hoping someone just left it on.
Rounding the corner, you were met with the glare of a shirtless Logan, elbows firmly on the counter while sitting on the stool. He was swirling a glass of whiskey, careful to not let a drop fall despite its fullness. Like a reflex, your eyes scanned his sitting form. You were sure that he noticed.
The smirk on his lips grew, seeing you adorned in sweatpants and a hoodie that were at least a size too big. You might as well have been in clothes.
"What are you doing up, princess? Can’t sleep?" From his tired voice, you could tell that he hadn’t been up for long.
You tried to recover from your brazen survey of his chest. “I don’t sleep well in new places,” you shrugged as you slowly approached the counter.
"Ah, so that’s why you’re up, huh? New place and all that…" He took a gulp of his whiskey, keeping his gaze on you as he spoke again. His tongue darted out to his bottom lip, retrieving the remaining taste of the liquor. “You like what you see, sweetheart?” The gruff yet playful tone in his voice made your core stir.
You hummed, laying your palms on the cool counter. Only the bar counter separated you two. “I do…” you whispered, leaning over the counter, only about half a foot from Logan’s face, “...I see a whiskey that looks pretty damn good. Care to share?”
Logan chuckled and looked down at the liquid in the glass, swirling it around a bit. “You want a taste?” He nodded toward the stool next to him, pulling it out, “C’mere then.”
Playing this game with Logan was a good distraction from the pending decision you had to make. It reminded you of what you missed the most from your work: the chase.
You rounded the edge of the bar. Behind it, you could see how low Logan’s sweats rode his hips. His legs remained spread. You didn’t hesitate to take the stool next to him, your body fully facing him. Your leg slightly brushed his as you crossed your legs. You felt a sense of dominance watching Logan take a deep breath due to the slighted touch of your skin.
"I have to say, sweetheart, the sight of you all sleepy and in pants that are a bit too big on you?” Logan rumbled, slightly tugging the string of your hoodie, “You look damn good.”
You playfully slapped his hand, ignoring his comment. “Just give me the damn whiskey.”
Logan was amused by your little demand. Instead, he lifted the glass to his lips, taking another gulp. The glass was half full now. “Now, don’t you know I don’t respond well to demands, princess? Gotta ask nicely.”
“Fuck you,” you spat. The smile that still formed on your face felt like a betrayal to your tone.
“Oh, don’t worry…I’m sure I’ll be getting to that at some point but first…” He held the glass up, waving it in front of you like a taunt. “Ask nicely, use your manners, sweetheart…” His tone was a bit condescending.
He was shameless, but you were relentless.
You shifted your body, uncrossing your legs. You allowed your features to soften and a small smile to form, your head titled. Slightly looking up at Logan, you placed one hand on his knee, running your hand up his thigh and back down to his knee. Feeling emboldened by Logan’s strained exhale, you ran your hand back to his mid thigh. You leaned in a bit closer. “Please…”
Logan took another quick gulp of the whiskey and leaned in closer too. Your pleading eyes, soft smile, alluring touch—it was hard to determine if this was a well trained ruse that you used time and time again. Yet, he noticed how you looked at his bare chest and how yours would heave when your eyes traveled lower down his body. He knew you were just as affected by him as he was to you.
"Please what, princess? You gotta be more specific.” You didn’t even hear the storm outside anymore—just his husky tone resonating in your head.
“I need it,” you whispered, rubbing your hand on his thigh again. With a knowing smile, your brows furrow as if you had misspoke. In the short time Logan had known you, you never misspoke. “The whiskey, I mean…”
Logan smirked as you whispered and moved your hand on his skin. It felt damn good. He let out a slight grumble in response, enjoying how you were touching him, enjoying the tone of your voice as you spoke.
“You sure it’s the whiskey that you need?” The heel pulled your stool closer to his, your cheek almost brushing up against his. Your audible gasp caught yourself off guard. You were almost straddling his knee. Placing the whiskey glass on the counter, Logan firmly placed his larger hand over yours. Feeling his warm breath near your ear, you had to close your eyes to focus—to control your breath. “Or do you just need me?"
Logan leaned back from your ear, his darkened eyes meeting yours. Nothing about you was innocent, yet the way you were looking at him now said otherwise. You bit your lip as your eyes darted down to his lips. His hand faintly gripped yours. Logan wasn’t so sure if this was a game anymore.
Before he could make another move, Logan saw his whiskey glass come into his view as you brought it to your lips. The innocence in your eyes was completely washed away and replaced with pride as you took a deserved gulp from his glass. Logan looked down and could only laugh to himself. Removing your hand from his thigh, you used your foot on his stool to push yourself back from him, taking the glass with you.
“You know,” Logan began as he stood up, turning toward the cabinet. He pulled another glass and a half empty bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. “You could’ve just asked for your own, princess.”
You cracked your neck before finishing the drink. “What’s the fun in that?” you shrugged with a playful tone.
You held up your glass requesting more. Logan obliged by pouring you both fresh glasses. He sat again and brought the bottle with him. He leaned back to examine your change in demeanor. From a minute ago to now, it was like you were a different person. You feigned innocence with an ease that was jarring.
“Is that how you lured all those men?” Logan bluntly asked, tapping his glass. You weren’t surprised by his bluntness, but you never spoke about the work you did. Who the hell would you tell? “I think you could have convinced me to get a top floor suite with room service just now, sweetheart.”
“Every man is different,” you slowly began, running your finger along the rim of your glass. “Different motivations, different ticks, different tastes…I become a fantasy that feeds on those things.”
“And you think you’d miss it, don’t you?” Logan’s question was spoken almost in a teasing manner.
You nodded, taking a sip of your drink, “I would,” you admitted. Your body turned from Logan’s to fully face the counter. You placed your arms on the counter, “You think Charles would let me still do it if I became a great X-man.” You mocked Charles’s voice and tone.
Logan gruffly laughed before matching your body language. “Nah, he definitely wouldn’t.”
You knew this would be the answer; your question was virtually a joke. Besides the aspect of living in a school, joining a team, trying to be a part of some new found family—you couldn’t imagine not living the life you built for yourself, doing what you believed was justice. You didn’t know who would do it, if you didn’t.
“Like I said earlier, I get it, sweetheart,” Logan breathed, observing your profile. You peered back, brows raised. “You didn’t do shit that those bastards didn’t deserve.”
By never speaking about what you did, you believed you were avoiding judgment from others, avoiding their contorted faces of terror. You heard what news outlets would say once a body was discovered in the hotel suite the next morning. You heard the number of FBI profiles made up about you as you bounced from coast to coast. On social media, you were revered differently; you were the hero in some peoples’ eyes. Maybe even in Logan’s eyes.
You took a larger gulp of your whiskey than you intended, your face souring before bitterly swallowing it down. “I can’t be an X-man, Logan. The way Charles talked about you guys in the past…that’s not me. I can’t imagine being the doting professor who takes the moral high ground. I’m not a role model.”
Logan listened intently. You couldn’t read him as he took two larger drinks out of his glass. He deeply exhaled, “You can do whatever you want, sweetheart, but you think everyone here is perfect? Even Charles?”
You stayed quiet. This wasn’t the lecture you’d expect from Logan.
“You know how many times I’ve fucked up here? How many times I’m going to continue to fuck up?” You couldn’t help but let out a soft giggle at Logan’s own amusement about fucking up. “And we all got pasts, things we try to bury. These kids…they fuck up, too. They’ve done things they’d rather forget…they gotta know they’re capable of outliving their past.”
The sincerity in Logan’s eyes was new. There wasn’t a hint of lust or darkness that you witnessed earlier in his face or words. Thinking your heart would begin to race as you thought about your pending decision, you were surprised to feel like slowing down with Logan’s words. Knowing where Logan came from and the number of horrors he’d also witnessed made his endorsement all the more intriguing.
“And that’s why you’re awake now?” you pressed. “Hard to outrun your past when you sleep.”
Logan could only nod; you were right. Horrors had their way of finding him in the night, whether he was looking for them or not.
“They used to be worse.” He took a slow sip from his glass. You saw his jaw clench while he sat there in thought. “I freaked out once when I was dreamin’. Impaled a student who was just trying to wake me up.”
Your body stiffened due to his disclosure. The rumble of his voice was full of shame and regret. You sat in silence for a beat, waiting for Logan’s words to cut through the tension again.
“Her abilities saved her, but if that’d been anyone else…” His voice drifted off before a quick inhale through his nostrils.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to provide comfort, you simply weren’t sure how. Logan didn’t seem like the hugging type. You were sure he played the moment over and over in his brain until it was scratched like a record; what help could words do? Silence made you feel like you were avoiding his words, possibly rejecting him because of them. Comfort was a field you weren’t used to navigating.
“I’m sure that doesn’t help the nightmares,” you responded, a bit too blankly. “I mean—”
“You make different memories, confront the ones you hate,” his words overlapped yours. “And that only happens once you stop running. You were right before. I ran. I didn’t deal with Stryker, and you paid the price.”
You went to say something, but you felt your voice caught in your throat. You lips on sat slightly parted before you realized that all you mustered was a hard swallow of your whiskey.
“I’d like to think if I confronted him then, I wouldn’t be so tormented by it now, and you…” The concern and seriousness in his voice made your heart swell, a sensation you hadn’t felt in years. “I’m sorry.”
You had to look away from him momentarily, feeling more exposed than you intended. You remembered spending days cursing Logan every time you heard how he broke free years before Stryker ever found you. Knowing that he’d been struggling with that for years—willing to apologize—made you feel at least a little bit even.
Looking back at him, you saw that his look had not wavered. Feeling more exposed, you did what you did best.
“You’re really working overtime to make sure I’m here long enough to fall for your charms, Howlett.” You flashed another soft smile, hoping to alter the mood again.
Logan almost finished his drink in two additional gulps and shook his head, “I think you’d do better here than you think. Maybe even stop running from something good for once.” His tone was soft yet serious as he evaded your playful banter. For the first time in decades, you were experiencing an unfamiliar feeling.
Hope.
You raised your glass up, nodding toward Logan’s glass for him to do the same. He did as he was instructed. “Here’s to probably fucking things up.”
Logan’s lips curved into a smile as the glasses clinked, signaling a resonating decree. You both downed the rest of the drinks before setting them down on the counter. You looked over at him again to appreciate how his jaw tightened as the harsh liquid moved down his throat. There was a comfort that existed by simply watching him, sitting in the temporary silence.
“Thank you, Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you slid off the stool, placing your glass in the sink. You turned toward the way you came to end back to your room.
“And for the record,” you heard Logan start as you approached the threshold of the hallway. You turned on your heels to face him again. From the growing half-smile, you knew what kind of comment you were in for, “I don’t need the overtime. I gotcha right where I want ya, princess.”
Feeling more in your element, you tried containing the grin from your lips, “If you did, I’d be going to your room, not mine, Wolvie.”
For the second time, you wished him good night, leaving him with his thoughts of you.
When you awoke the next morning, it was a little later than you anticipated. The clock on your night stand read 9:23 AM. It was the sound of children stomping near your door that acted as an alarm.
The laughing and giggling of schoolchildren was not your usual wake up call, but you hadn’t gotten sleep like that in a while.
After quickly freshening up in the conjoining bathroom, you changed into your jeans and t-shirt from the night before. Peaking your head outside your door, you saw a few strangling kids run down the hall, presumably to their morning classes.
For some reason, you expected to see Logan out here, somewhere. Maybe it was because of your multiple conversations last night; he felt inescapable. But maybe you weren’t complaining either.
When people spoke of chemistry, you always thought it was silly. Your fake chemistry with enough men that when they thought you had a real connection, this energy, this heat, you wanted to double over in laughter. There was certain enjoyment you got with flirting with a target, feeling like you were getting one up on them with each glance, word, and touch. With Logan, it just felt…different.
“Late start?” You turned your head to the left, seeing Charles two doors down from you. The soft smile that he had was slightly smug as well. It was as if he already knew what your decision was. Perhaps he knew you were up late with Logan.
You leisurely approached Charles with a nod, “If that is your way of asking if I slept well, then the answer is yes.” He began moving, signaling you to move with him down the empty hall. “I’m assuming you came down to see if I had run off again?”
“You do seem to make a habit of it, my dear,” he remarked. In the past, you had stayed at the mansion but you decided to duck out under the cover of night. You always left a note of apology to Charles. Seeing you here during a brand new day meant something, even if you weren’t ready to admit it to yourself. Charles knew. “But you’ve stayed.”
Charles was bringing you outside to the back of the mansion. Although it was very much on the nose, the grass did seem to be greener here. Not just greener, but the garden was vibrating with color from the flora and fauna. You stood on the concrete outlook, pressing your arms against the surface in front of you.
“I stayed…and you want my answer.” It wasn’t a question.. You couldn’t see Charles as he sat slightly behind you, both of you taking in the scenery. “My life, what I do now…that would have to end, wouldn’ it? I can’t exist in both worlds. That life would end?” You knew Charles’s answer, but you’d be remiss if you didn’t at least ask.
“That life—your life isn’t ending. It’d simply be evolving.”
You fell silent for a moment, still captured in the scenery ahead of you. You didn’t just have Charles’s words echoing in your mind. You had Logan’s, too.
“I think you’d do better here than you think. Maybe even stop running from something good for once.”
Something good.
You turned back to Charles, your back leaning against the guardrail. A deep breath exhaled from your chest as you nodded, “My apartment lease is almost up, so why not? Call me an X-man, I guess.”
You could act as non-chalant as you wanted, but Charles knew this decision wasn’t made lightly by you. Your word was bond, and it had been for 20 years.
Solidified by a handshake, Charles brought you back into the mansion. You didn’t need the typical tour. You and Charles discussed the logistics of your move into the mansion as he simply showed you what was new from your last visit. The more you both talked, laughed, joked, you felt more secure in your decision. Yet, those lingering voices in your head—the ones that held you back before—they still persisted.
Making your way back to the main level, the bells in the hallways sounded off. Students quickly began flooding the halls again, their talking and chattering bounced down the hall. You saw the familiar faces of Storm and Scott in the halls as well, talking with some older students; it had been years since you’d seen them as well. They both looked over toward you and Charles, a tinge of surprise and amusement was revealed from their expressions.
You playfully matched your expressions, knowing it’d be a fun conversation to have later. As much as you rejected the idea of being an X-men in the past, the rejection wasn’t because of the people; if anything, they made the rejection a little harder.
Charles and you agreed to give you the week to begin moving your things into the mansion, giving you time to adjust. Again, he welcomed you before moving away down the hallway. You began to make your way over to Storm and Scott before you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“You coming or going now, princess?” Logan’s voice was unmistakable at this point. It had echoed in your head enough over the last day to make an impression.
Turning to meet his stare, you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face, “Princess? That’s fellow X-man to you.”
Admittedly, that was the best news you could have given Logan. After watching you leave the kitchen last night, his thoughts were consumed by you. Your charming voice, your lingering touch, your alluring presence, it was enough to keep him up longer than he intended. Logan couldn’t nail what exact fantasy you were creating for him to make him this drawn to you, but at least he’d have more time to figure it out now.
He crossed his bulky arms with a small smile as he looked down at you, “Yeah? Figured you’d miss me too damn bad?”
Remembering that you were surrounded by passing children in the hallway, you kept your comments very subtle. “Not as much as you’d miss me, Wolvie.”
note: Unsure how many parts this will be! Tell me your thoughts of if you wanna be tagged ♡
♡ Warning/Tags: smut, minor dni, good mix of fluff & angst, brief mention of mutant abuse, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, p to v sex, fingering, oral sex, FLUFF FLUFF, cross-post from AO3
♡ Summary: "Logan has never been an open person. Despite you wanting to love him with everything you had, how could you if he continuously kept you at an emotional arm’s length?"
♡ Note: I haven't written in FOREVER and I got locked out of my old writing account @printedpeterparker from 2 years ago! But dare I say?? We're sooo back! Might even post some revised posts from my previous account.
The sounds of the city seemed amplified tonight. You were drifting in and out of sleep, never finding a rhythm. You were close to finding that rhythm until the sounds of old floorboards and the creaky bedroom door filled the room as well.
He was home.
3:56 A.M.
Heavy steps slowly waltzed into the room. The door was softly closed behind them. Logan never liked to wake you, yet he always did. The blame wasn’t entirely on him and his inability to be discreet in this old apartment. Logan’s apartment was particularly loud. If it wasn’t the furnace rattling, it was police sirens flooding the night. You couldn’t stand being here alone. But with Logan? There was a sweet comfort when you got to hear his heart rate slow when you lay on his chest.
At this point, you had spent multiple nights at Logan’s while your apartment building was being fumigated. Your night would be going well until you saw him get a text or call from Wade. He’d tell you that he had to leave and would be back as soon as he could. Every time, he got better at dodging your questions. You would try and wait for him, but you never could make it past 1:30.
And just like all of the nights before this one, he would immediately head toward the bathroom for a shower, not wanting you to see him in his present condition, you assumed. The shower ran, steam and light slipping into the room from the crack door. He never wanted to get into what he was doing with Wade under the cover of night. Wade would jest that they were simply partaking in the world’s oldest profession as “men of the night.” Logan would snark, but it was always clear that he didn’t want to talk about it— not with you, at least.
“I don’t want you to know me like that.”
“And if I did?”
“It’s not something I like to think about.”
The conversation rang in your mind like a broken record as the shower ran. Pressing the issue during the witching hours didn’t seem like the time then. Then again, it never felt like the time. You weren’t native to what Logan could do or had done. You could only imagine what he was actually doing. There were times where he selected to be more forthcoming about his past, probably still sparing you the worst of it. The worst of him, maybe.
But you’ve seen the remnants of blood, never sure if it’s his or not, in the bathroom, despite Logan’s best attempts to not leave a trace of his night. As the water stopped, you could always listen for the inevitable groans of Logan and the ripping of paper towels, an unique part of his night shower regiment. The bathroom light eventually turned off, only the glow from the street lights outside draped the room. You felt the slight breeze on your back and Logan lifted the comforter, shifting the weight of the bed as he climbed in. He instinctively pulled you close to his bare chest, wrapping his arm around your abdomen At this point, you both knew you were awake.
A deep and throaty sigh escaped his lips, one he had probably been holding in since he made it home. You melted into his embrace, the city only seemed to whisper— finally feeling at rest.
You lifted his hand from your abdomen, softly laying two kisses in gaps between his knuckles. Your hand laid over his before placing it back on your abdomen. An act that made Logan flinch the first few times you did it had now fully stripped him of every defense.
No words were spoken. Yet, his words still rang.
Logan hadn’t fully woken up. His eyes still remained shut, but he was alone. His hand lazily swept where you had laid; warmth still radiated next to him. With furrowed brows, his eyes tried adjusted to the gleam of the sun
“I was going to let you sleep a little longer, Lo” your voice was barely above a whisper His eyes swiftly found you standing in the doorframe of his bathroom, fully awake now. Logan propped himself up to admire you in your red shorts, white t-shirt, and the sweetest smile as you sauntered over to his side of the bed. “You got in pretty late.”
“Yeah, didn’t think I’d be out that late…” His words dropped off as he watched you take a seat next to him, running your hand across his defined chest. “It’s mostly Wade and his damn mouth that holds us up.”
“Hm, wanna talk about it?” you hummed, perking yourself up a little.
Logan’s lust-filled eyes had been unchanged since he spotted you in the doorframe. A look that made you think he would tear your shorts off with his teeth if he had to. He wanted to.
He sat up further before snaking his arm around your waist, fingers pressed into your side. “Now why would I talk about that bum when I got the sweetest thing right here? C’mere.” A short gasp escaped your lips as he swiftly pulled you onto his lap. As you straddled his hips, he steadied your hips with one strong hand while the other ran under your tee and up your spine. You felt like a schoolgirl with the way he made you blush.
Before you could mutter a word, Logan’s hungry lips were already on yours. You couldn’t help but to cup his breaded cheeks into your hands. Soft moans and grunts mixed between your lips, but your mind began to drift, knowing Logan evaded your question without missing a beat. Regardless, your body felt like it could only react to his touch, especially while his lips slipped down to your pulse. You felt your breath hitch in your throat.
Sometimes, you hated how good he was at getting you going.
“Logan…” Every part of you wanted that to come out sternly. It definitely didn’t. You were still trying to catch your breath. In fact, hearing his name fall from your lips only lit a flame in him
“C’mon, baby,” Logan’s voice was low against your neck, tracing your pulse with his lips, “tell me what you want.”
“I-I want…” You couldn’t even think straight, but if you didn’t get this out now, you might as well just surrender, “I w-want you to tell me why-y there are so-o many bloody towels in the garbage.”
Logan paused for a moment. You took the moment to lean back to meet his furrowed eyeline. He was shrugging, “Just from cleaning up this morning. I’ll take the garbage out, alright?” He pulled you in again, but pulled back, still eyeing him.
“Logan, what were you doing last night? Or any of those other nights?” you softly asked, trailing your hands over his shoulders. His hands still lazily sat on your waist and, now, your lower back.
“Baby, I don’t wanna get into it this morning,” he matched your tone while slowly rubbing your lower back. You sighed before rolling off of him. Logan groaned due to the loss of contact. “What? C’mon, sweetheart.” He reached for you, but you swatted at his hand.
You faced Logan, sitting criss-crossed on the bed. “Then when? When can we get into it? This afternoon? This evening? At least before you leave again tonight?” You knew you were tuned up just from our own thoughts at night. You had played this conversation over and over again in the head last night.
To your misfortune, unlike your surprise, it wasn’t going how you had wanted.
He wiped his face with a groan before crossing his arms. “I work. I get paid.”
“Doing what?”
Logan’s face was now firm as was yours. Every ounce of romance had been replaced with tension, but your question hung in the air like a cloud threatening rain.
“I told you, I—”
“Don’t want me to know you like that,” you finished, “but I want to know you, Logan. All of you! You’re my boyfriend and my favorite person to be with, and I don’t even know what you do for work! Doesn’t that sound a little ridiculous?” your voice was slightly raised, your tone short. You were digging your heels in.
But so was Logan.
“Wade gets us jobs; they’re all different. Do you want me to detail every still job I’ve ever done?” his voice was raised slightly higher. “You don’t trust me or something?”
You rolled your eyes before completing getting off the bed, “I trust you to be you and trust that you’re trying to sell me some version of the truth in order to make me feel better or at least shut me up. And I know it’s because you care, Lo. I can only imagine what you’re doing, there’s literally bloody towels in the bathroom, for Christ sake! More than I’ve ever seen. But I wouldn’t have to imagine if you just talked to me! I want you to trust me enough to talk to me, confide in me,” you felt like you were begging; you ought to be on your knees at this point.
“Well, if I need ya, I’ll let ya know.” As soon as the words whipped off his lips, he regretted it. You huffed, frustrated tears quickly brimming your eyes. Logan immediately got up, but you were already heading toward the bathroom. “Look, baby, I’m sorry,” Logan was able to catch your arm. You immediately pulled it away and turned to face him. Despite your best efforts to hold in your tears, one broke away.
“I want to love you so bad, Logan, so fucking bad, but you make it so goddamn hard sometimes.” You didn’t even want to wait for his response. You stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door in Logan’s dejected face. He wanted to follow you, but it would only make things worse. All he could do is listen to your back slide down the door while soft sobs left your lips.
You wish you could’ve stormed out of the apartment, not face Logan for the rest of the day. You ended up taking a shower, mainly because you needed one, but also to drown out any remaining frustrated, tearful sniffles. You knew Logan could hear you before, but you meant what you said.
Despite you wanting to love him with everything you had, how could you if he continuously kept you at an emotional arm’s length?
Although you never wanted to push him, getting Logan to open up by any degree was like pulling teeth. When it came to his past, you didn’t expect him to tell you everything overnight. It was obviously painful; some nights, he was still plagued with nightmares. But every time you soothed him after a nightmare, with every comforting hand kiss, you thought Logan was learning to trust you, finding comfort in you.
But if you didn’t have trust, you weren’t sure what the two of you had. Maybe you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself.
The comforting warmth of the shower was running cold now. After hopping out, you slowly moved into Logan’s room. He wasn’t there but the bed was made. You got yourself dressed but stopped and wondered if it would be best just to pack your things. Maybe it’d be better to stay with a friend for a while. For now, you just needed to leave.
You could hear Logan rattling on the other side of the door. You began dreading the imminent conflict. If it wasn’t going to be confrontational, it was at least going to be awkward. After throwing on some jeans and a black t-shirt, you took a breath before opening the creaky door.
You didn’t immediately see Logan, only the empty living room. You walked out toward the door, but his voice calling your name stopped you dead in your tracks. The call was soft; nevertheless, he called for you as if he had been nervously preparing for your arrival. You turned toward the kitchen to see Logan, also in jeans and a t-shirt. He had two large coffees in front of him and a white paper bag.
“Are you trying to bribe me into staying,” you asked lowly, but Logan could sense the hint of humor in your voice.
“More like a bribe to get you to talk to me, again, “ he lifted one of the coffees toward you with a nervous chuckle, “well, me talk, you listen. But if you still wanna leave…I won’t stop you either.”
You nodded with a mumbled okay before moving to the coach. Logan silently joined you, handing you both the coffee and the bag. You took a peek into the bag to see two cinnamon muffin tops— your favorite. You took a sip of the coffee. Sure enough, that was perfect too. You placed the bag and coffee along with Logan’s on the table for the time being.
“You have my attention,” you slightly smiled. A part of you wished you could stay mad at him for longer.
Logan smiled too as if he could breathe a little better. A part of him wished he could stand you being upset with him, even just a little bit.
You both sat silently for a moment, waiting for the other. Logan leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees and rubbing his palms. After seeing him take multiple short deep breaths, you realized what you were witnessing.
Logan was nervous.
You had only seen Logan nervous on one other occasion. When he picked you up for your first date, he didn’t realize that the camera in front of your apartment door activated when someone approached it. You watched him run the same routine from the breathing to the palm rub.
“Look, I’m not good at this,” Logan began, “Not just the talking bits but making the right choices like what I tell, what I don’t tell you— how much versus how little. Because the last thing I want is to scare you off and lose you. But this morning, for a second, that’s what I saw happening.”
You stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt what probably was a conversation Logan ran through his head multiple times over this morning. Instead, you provided a reassuring smile.
Logan leaned back onto the couch with his arms crossed, “So, what do you wanna know? Whatever you wanna know, I’ll tell ya.”
Despite having questions running through your mind multiple times over for the past few nights, your mind drew a quick blank. You took a quick sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would guide your mind a little better.
“You say that Wade gets both of you these jobs. Typically, what are the jobs?” you asked, leaning back onto the couch with him.
Logan cocked his head back, staring at the moving ceiling fan instead of you. “They really can be anything. Everyone’s got problems. We don’t accept every job. Still, it can be small like scaring off an intense ex for a girl to something not so small like uh, taking down a trafficking ring. The one with the ex, no one gets hurt; it really doesn’t take much to scare punks like that, y’know? The other? It can get…messy.”
You nodded and leaned back with him, turning to face him instead of the fan, “And last night?”
He took a deep sigh and shook his head. The room fell silent again for a beat too long. The question obviously hit a sour spot in him; it probably hit worse when he was unexpectedly asked this morning.
Your hand snaked down to your side. You wrapped your hand over Logan’s, rubbing your thumb over the very visible veins. His head tilted to the side to meet your soft stare with another reassuring smile.
“If it’s too much right now, Lo, w—”
“You know that there are actual mutant trafficking rings?” Logan bluntly asked you. Your reassuring smile lessened; Logan could read the concern all over your face as your hand gripped his.
“Not just adults but kids. We got this job to bring this mutant kid back to his parents. The money seemed like a lot upfront but hey, if I had a kid, I’d do anything to make sure they were okay. But when we found this kid, what he told me and Wade…the kid showed us where they’d really take him, not the bullshit address we were told to bring him. All these kids…” His eyes closed as the memories flashed before him. His jaw was clenched, his hand fisted under yours. Your sympathetic hand moved up his forearm, hoping to soothe his thoughts. Once Logan's eyes opened again, your gaze was still on him. Logan found himself a little more grounded not only by your touch but your eyes— eyes that never had to see the horrors that he had but were understanding, nonetheless. His fist relaxed back into an open hand.
“I think I just lost it. We got ‘em all out, but everyone else there, the guy that hired us? I killed them. Not me and Wade; just me. I saw a version of myself, one I haven't seen in years.” Although Logan had admitted to details about his life, situations that he had found himself in, you couldn’t remember a time that he was so blatant about his actions. There were no assumptions to be made this time; just the truth. And it was clear that sitting with the truth was hard for Logan. Whether it was the action itself or admitting that he alone committed a slaughter, his continuously clenched jaw was proof of the struggle to discuss it.
“And you deserve to know the type of guy you’re with, sweetheart.”
You furrowed your browline and removed your hand from his, placing it on his cheek. Reactionarily, he leaned into your touch. This didn’t stop him from still scanning your face for any hint of hesitation, disgust, horror— perhaps originate to your plan of leaving. He didn’t find any of that.
“I do, it’s all I wanted to know,” you sighed, slowly caressing his jaw. “And I got the best guy, no question.” You softly kissed his cheek, a small smile crept on Logan’s face, but part of him didn’t believe you. As much as you meant it, he struggled with believing it himself.
“I’ve hurt more people than I can count, sweetheart.”
“I know,” you sat up next to him, slightly leaning over him, “but I also like to think that you have helped more people than you’ll ever realize.”
You pressed a small kiss to his lips before lifting up one of his hands, “And these,” you pressed two kisses around the knuckles like this morning, “they’ve also helped more people than they’ve hurt…and on occasion, the hands themselves have been know make a girl feel good.” You received a genuine, deep laugh from him only causing you to laugh as well.
Again, it fell silent. This silence was comforting. You kept his hand in yours again as you gazed upon your gruff man. His face was now more relaxed and soft. You’d swear that you had memorized every detail of his visage in the months you had been together. You hadn’t even realized that Logan was studying you as well.
You lightly lifted the peaks of his hair before tracing his hairline, “You’re a good guy, Logan. Complicated but good.” Your lips shortly met his for the second time that day, this time with no alternative motive or your mind racing— just Logan’s slow lips against yours.
The coffee and pastries on the coffee table were long forgotten, both warming and cooling to the same temperature. Reminiscent of earlier, your legs hugged his bulky thighs as you straddled him. His hand traveled from your lower back to the tops of your thighs, wishing you had opted out of putting on jeans for the day. You gripped his shoulders for balance, but it was hard not to have at least one hand travel to his solid chest. Even the slightest movement felt nothing short of perfect to Logan. A throaty moan escaped his lips but was quickly drowned out by your own moan.
“Logan,” you muttered against his lips, your words almost being drowned out as well. He positively hummed in response. You paused for a beat. You lifted Logan’s chin with your fingers, effectively removing his lips from yours. His uncertain eyes looked into yours as he was sure he was about to be teased again today.
“I love you,” you whispered as if it was a secret between the two of you. On the contrary, you would love to scream it to the world, too. Logan was taken aback.
He didn’t think it would take three simple words strung into one of the most common phrases to put him at a loss for words. It wasn’t the words that left him awestruck— it was the woman saying them.
You.
Logan knew he could be abrasive, cold, distant, frustrating. Regardless of his best efforts, you saw those sides of him, especially in the beginning of you knowing him. Like today, those traits he tried to deeply bury when with you would rear their ugly heads at times.
When that would happen, Logan would give you the same spiel, along the lines of ‘I’d understand if you wanted to end things’ or ‘You deserve some who…’ . Not because he didn’t want you; you’d become everything to him in such a short amount of time. He just wanted you to be sure.
Despite those conversations, you didn’t leave. Despite Logan’s fears that you’d wake up one day and realize you were making the worst decision by being with him, you straddled his lap, hands rubbing his shoulders, and telling him that you loved him.
Him.
It wasn’t until now that Logan realized that he was probably staring at you like a dumbfounded idiot for way too long. You sat up a little straighter, the shame of rejection started to creep into your mind. You offered a soft smile anyway.
“You don’t have to say it back, but you should know. Even when you don’t, I love you, all of you.”
Logan couldn’t even stand the fact that you thought, even for a second, that he didn’t feel the same. He caressed your cheek before quickly pulling you into a passionate kiss that sent a chill down your spine and to your core. Even if he didn’t say it, you could feel it in the kiss. The slowed down tempo was different as if Logan was savoring both the moment and taste of your lips. You slightly pulled his t-shirt, pulling him a little deeper.
His hands traveled down your back until they were spread across your ass. You couldn’t help but to grind your hips against his growing cock. You tugged his shirt upward, feeling Logan’s broad, haired chest. With a short separation, you lifted his and your tops, forgoing your bra as well, tossing them in a direction you paid no mind to at the time. With your bare chests pressed together, your lips joined again. Logan guided your hips against his. Each snap of your hips made the strain on his jeans tighter, increasing the contact with your clit. Your hips, your moans— they danced with each other in harmony.
With a quick hoist, Logan lifted you with his stance, his hands more firmly on your ass. Your legs instinctually wrapped around his waist while gripping his shoulders. Your laughing lips vibrated against his.
Logan mumbled something against your lips that you can’t quite seem to make out. It was short, maybe your name. You break away from his lips, his forehead resting on yours. Before you could tease him as planned, Logan planted one more kiss on your lips.
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, baby. Y’know that?” Logan whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours. This felt like a secret of his own— one that made your heart flutter, and more surprisingly, your panties soaked.
“It’s not just the fact that I’m a topless girl that you have by ass right now making you say that?” you teased with a hand running through the back of his hair.
“Doesn’t hurt,” he huff looking down at your exposed chest, nodding to himself. Smart ass. You playfully snorted before slightly tugging at his roots causing Logan’s eyes to roll back with a groan. Slight pain, all pleasure. Your lips were immediately attached again.
A mix of messy open mouth kisses and moans had you both feeling like teenagers as Logan moved you both to his bedroom. The creaky door to the room bounced off your back. Logan was quick to gently lay you onto the center of the bed but even quicker to join you, his knee pressed between your legs. With his lips attached to your neck, hands palming your breasts, and the slight pressure to your pulsing cunt, you whimpered. You scooted yourself further onto Logan’s thigh, temporarily satisfying the ache between your legs with a slow grind. You were cursing the denim the both of you were wearing.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Logan warned against your warmed skin. He peppered kisses from your neck to your collarbone to the tops of your breasts, nipping your skin along the way. His flattened tongue dragged down to your nipple, wetting and flicking his tongue against it. He paid the same attention to your other breast, alternating between both. “Hmm, so goddamn beautiful,” he breathed between your wetted mounds
You were a whimpering mess as you watched him, arching into his touch. You still couldn’t help but to ride his thigh, the denim hitting your clit just right. You let your head fall back onto the mattress, taking in every sensation. Your hands choose to grasp the flexing muscles of his back, riding his thigh a little less than haphazardly.
Logan’s attention moved away from your chest when he began to notice you trying to get yourself off again. He moved further off the bed, causing you to lose the desired contact with his thigh. Your head shot up with a groan only to see Logan undoing your jeans.
Logan shook his head as if he was scolding you. “If you’re even thinking about coming,” two fingers on either side rimmed the waistband of your jeans and underwear. The slowness of his action only grew your impatience and neediness, “I wanna feel it all, baby.”
He was slow to pull down your jeans, knowing the pace was agonizing, knowing your pussy was pulsing with anticipation. Your breathing was ragged, your mind foggy. You quickly shuffle your jeans past your ass, keeping your legs lifted, but Logan only wanted to tease you and watch you wither.
“Baby, please, I need you.” It felt like your whines were falling on deaf ears as Logan was admiring each inch of your newly exposed skin from your stomach to your hips to your thighs. Wet kisses were placed on each area, inching closer to where you needed him most. You couldn’t even focus on the dirty whispers he lied behind each mark.
It wasn’t until your jeans slid down toward your knees that you felt Logan’s grip on your thighs ever so tightened, his breathing becoming uneven, and a throaty ‘fuckin’ christ’ escape his lips. He could smell the sweet scent of your arousal on your cunt ever since you were grinding on his cock on the couch, but with every barrier surrendered and centimeters from his face, every primal instinct in his body came alive.
Logan made quick work of removing both your jeans and underwear, to your surprise and pleasure. “The sweetest fuckin’ thing, I swear.” It came off like a growl from his lips as he hiked both of your legs over his shoulders.
Before another begged whimper could leave your lips, Logan’s tongue was desperately lapping up the wetness from your slick core just for it to remplish with the same speed. There was no sweeter taste in the world to him.
Your volume was lost on yourself. His neighbors would just have to understand. The brief contact had you embarrassingly close to your climax already, and it sounded like it.
With his lips on your clit, you felt his index finger slick up against your folds before plunging into your soaking heat. Logan’s lust-filled eyes made contact with your needy ones. Without even thrusting his finger, just like his thigh, your hips grinded against his finger. You were practically begging him for another digit.
He hummed against your clit, the vibration sending shockwaves to your core, “That’s it, baby,” With the addition of his middle finger, the pace of your grind quickened, riding Logan’s fingers and tongue, “show me how bad you want it.”
“Bad…I need you so bad, baby,” you cried, feeling you were mere seconds from bursting like a dam. Your juices were streaming onto Logan’s fingers and into his palm as you gripped around his fingers; the dam was already burst at the seams, “S’close, baby.”
Logan already knew, allowing his fingers and tongue to get you off exactly how you needed now.
“S’fucking pretty when you’re drippin’ all over me,” Logan muttered between licks, curling his fingers to reach your spot, “Give it to me, baby.”
That was all you needed before you felt the dam burst. Your hands were all throughout Logan’s hair, bracing yourself. Your road Logan’s fingers through your high, knowing you were making a mess all over his hand and mouth. A mix of profanities and his name fell from your lips like prayers— prayers that had finally been answered as you came down from your high. Your knees relaxed over Logan’s shoulders, letting your legs fall to his sides. You came out of your daze to see Logan sucking the remnants of your orgasm from his fingers, the visual made your pussy pulse again.
“Don’t worry about the mess,” Logan jested before planting a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He stood up from the bed, reaching for his belt; you could tell his cock was aching.
Feeling your second wind, you sat on your knees on the bed, reaching for Logan’s belt as well. Always more than willing— really loving— to return the favor, Logan knew exactly what he needed. Yet, he let you work.
You looked up at him through your lashes, undoing his belt, button, and zipper anyway. Your hand brushed over her constrained cock, earning a moan from Logan. He softly gripped your wrist, your innocent-looking eyes still gazing upon him. By the tilt of your head, he knew that you knew what you were doing; you always did. It still made his cock twitch.
A smirk crept on your face as you rolled your wrist out of Logan’s hand, “Then you tell me what you want, Lo,” you softly spoke, running your hands on his chest and pressing a kiss between his pecs.
He lifted your chin, capturing your lips into his, “I think you can taste what I want,” Logan muttered against your lips. You definitely could. You pulled him closer by cupping his cheeks, feeling remnants of your juices bedded in his beard.
The ache between your legs returned. At this point, it felt greedy to want Logan this bad after the intense finish you just had.
Your lips never left his as Logan finished pulling off his jeans and briefs. It took more than willpower not to reach for his cock, knowing it was already leaking with pre-cum.
“Lay back, sweetheart.” You were quick to comply, but Logan was quicker to join you. Before you could even fully position yourself, Logan’s face was in the crook of your neck, leaving marks he’d probably pepper sweet kisses on later. He propped your legs for you, his cock slightly grazing your folds. Felt like he was at heaven’s gates.
He wetted his cock on your slicked cunt, running against your clit. Your knees fell to your sides, opening yourself further to him. Your breath hitched in your throat before bracing yourself, arms wrapped around Logan’s back. He removed himself from your neck. If there was one thing Logan needed to see, it was seeing every part of your face fall into pleasure when he slid in you.
“I know, baby, I know,” Logan cooed before slowly beginning to slip into you. No matter how many times you felt his cock inside you, it felt like he was splitting you like a log. Yet, it was the sweetest sensation. No matter how much you tried to relax, you would immediately start gripping around Logan’s thick cock.
“Holy fuck, Lo,” you gasped as your nails dug into his skin. You wished you could see those marks, but already, they were simply a memory.
As he bottomed out, Logan’s lips met yours again in another searing kiss. He could fully appreciate the pulsing of your velvet cunt, just warming him. For you, the feeling of being stuffed to the brim? You were bound to make another mess.
Slow and steady, Logan began thrusting into you. Every inch of your body responded, particularly your hips that began to find a groove with Logan’s. With your eyes closed, you felt like you were blindfolded with pleasure. Your ragged breathing, soft moans— they were music to Logan.
Only dressed by the morning sunlight streaming through the window, you were a vision to Logan in this moment. Your mouth gaped, never finding the words that were so clearly written all over your face. Your hair was disheveled all over his pillows— the pillows you insisted Logan needed when he finally got his own place.
His hand steadily moved up your abdomen, smoothing over the valleys of your breasts. Logan had been inches deep in you more times than he could count. But today, he never felt closer.
“Look at me, baby,” he lowly grunted, his hand caressing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered open again, met with a smirk of a man who knew he had you hooked, “I need to see you.”
Like a reward, his hips snapped a little deeper, hitting your spot just right. “Oh my god,” you cried out with an arched back. Logan placed a supportive hand onto the middle of your back, making you sit on your legs and lifting you up to his chest. His hungry eyes met your lust-blown ones. You felt weightless as he dipped you on his cock. You gripped his shoulders, taking control of your bounce.
“Fucking made for me, baby.” he groaned, watching you practically bounce on his cock, quickening the tempo. With his other hand on your back, the other gripped your hip. “Take me so goddamn well.”
You were running like a faucet, feeling your own arousal run down your thigh. You savored every inch of his cock as Logan pumped into you, feeling that familiar pit in your core grow.
Logan could feel you tighten around him, chasing your own finish, “Fuck, sweetheart, if keep doing that, I won’t last too long.”
You wrapped your arm around his neck, nodding with a breathless smile, “I’m counting on it.”
That’s all Logan needed to hear. With a long growl, Logan removed his hand from your hip to ass, taking control of your movements. Your other hand reached for your clit. The pressure on your clit combined with the rhythmic plunges of Logan's cock was sinfully over stimulating. Your mind was hazy, your legs were beginning to tremble.
Logan was not far behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and moans hard to contain. “C’mon, baby, love seeing you come all over my cock. Fuck, I just love you, baby. Always you.”
Both of you were done for. A few final pumps later, the last deep in your cunt, you unraveled all over Logan’s cock, locking in the ropes of cum currently painting your walls. It took everything in Logan to not have his claws unsheathed themselves but coming with you that close to him was worth it. With every pulse, you knew you were milking every drop. You practically collapsed onto his chest, the ache between your legs officially satisfied.
Panting was the only sound filling the old bedroom. Logan was still buried deep in you. You knew if you didn’t move soon, he’d be rock hard again. It was hard to leave the moment though. Compared to the early events of this morning, this was bliss.
You felt Logan softly press kisses on your shoulder as you leaned against him. You smiled, pulling yourself up to meet his softened stare. You caught a quick kiss from your man before pulling him off. You both sighed at the loss of contact.
You pulled the navy blue blanket— another item you told Logan he just needed to have in his room— off the end of the bed, wrapping yourself in it. With a mouthed c’mere, you pulled Logan down to lay with you. You covered the both of you as you made yourself comfortable.
“I need you,” Logan sighed as you placed your arm and head on his hard chest.
You huffed and giggled in disbelief, looking up at him, “Again? I’m gonna need a minute…or 30.”
“No, no,” he chuckled. It wasn’t the worst idea though, Logan thought. “Earlier, I said that if I needed you, I’d let you know. And…I need you.”
Your lips tugged into another smile as you rub his chest, “I need you, too. And when you leave, I know you’ll physically be fine, but here?” Two of your fingers pressed between his brows, causing him to furrow them, “Sometimes you get stuck in there, and I don’t want to lose you, in any way.”
It never occurred to Logan that you could have the same fears he had.
“You won’t, sweetheart,” Logan pulled you closer, planting a chaste kiss to your forehead, “You won’t because I do love you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, sending vibrations through Logan’s chest. His head tilted with narrowed eyes.
“You have a real nice habit of telling me that when I’m naked.”
“Put something on, and I’ll tell you again.”
You both were laughing now. The sounds of your laughter were soon joined with the ringing and vibrating of Logan’s phone from the floor in his jeans. Besides you, Wade was the only other person who had Logan’s number. It was comical to you how annoyed he could get by a simple call from someone you knew he considered a friend; Logan wouldn’t admit though.
You began reaching for his jeans on the floor, stealing his vibrating phone from the back pocket.
“C’mon, I’m sure he wants nothing,” Logan grunted as he sat up. He grabbed your arm to stop you and the blanket from falling off the bed. When he pulled you back up, you sat up with him and were already answering the phone.
“Then he can bother me with it,” you smiled at Logan before raising the phone to your ear. “Morning, Wade!”
“Oh, it’s Mr. Wilson if you’re nasty,” he quipped. Logan rolled his eyes as you chuckled, “And what a pleasure to be greeted in a way I won’t have to tell my therapist about. Is the hairy guy around?”
You looked up at Logan with a small smile, “He’s actually a little preoccupied at the moment.” Logan laid on his forehead on your shoulder, muttering a soft thank you. “Can I take a message?”
“Nothing crazy, just a little bit of work I think he’d be interested in.” You looked over at Logan again. It was clear he could hear Wade as well as his head shot up from your shoulder. “But you tell him that there’s no shame in you being the breadwinner in that relationship; he’d make a great trophy wife. Really has the tits for it.”
“Couldn’t agree more, but uh, let me see if I can get him,” you muttered before muting the phone. “It’s work,” you jested.
Logan gave you a small smile before running his large hands over his face, preparing himself for the impending conversation with Wade. You handed him the phone but not before placing a kiss on his cheek. You rolled off the bed, only leaving Logan under the blanket. Vocalizing a loud groan from his chest, he’d prefer watching his girl get dressed than talk with a man who was currently whistling the Jeopardy! think song.
With your underwear on, as you pulled up your jeans, you shot a playful look at Logan who was clearly just ogling you at this point, “Talk to him!”
Annoyed, Logan immediately took Wade off of mute, “What?” his tone was a 180 compared to a few minutes ago.
You smiled as you left the room to find the rest of your clothing and finally eat something. You didn’t hear much coming out of Logan. You assumed he was just listening to whatever ‘work details’ Wade had.
After slipping all your clothes back on, you delved into the muffin tops you had neglected this morning. You didn’t know how hungry you were until you took a bite of your favorite pastry. It was enough to make your eyes roll.
With your coffee, a pastry, and Logan’s shirt, you leaned against the counter, on your phone. Truthfully, you were listening in on what Logan was saying, but he was a man of few words in the conversation. Most of his words were ones of confirmation and insults hurled at Wade.
The only thing you heard that truly mattered to you was what he said at the end, “Yeah, see you in 20.”
You heard Logan shift off the bed and grab his jeans, preparing to leave again despite only being home for about 5 hours. Although you were in a better place than you were earlier in the morning, it still made you a little sad to know that he was leaving again so soon. It would’ve been nice to have the morning together.
Logan called for you as he exited out of the bedroom. It was your turn to ogle him as your shirtless man adjusted his belt before turning toward you. He smirked when he saw you because you weren’t being very subtle. You dangled his shirt in the air.
“I’ll be back in like an hour or two,” Logan told you as he took his shirt back, swiftly throwing it on. You straightened out the wrinkles on it, but you both knew it was just an excuse to have your hands on him.
Logan wasn’t complaining. It gave him an excuse to place his hands around your waist.
“This mom— her ex is getting out of prison today, and she thinks he could use a, uh, reminder to not come around anymore.”
You nodded, picking a piece of lint off his shoulder, “I imagine you’re scarier than any restraining order,” you joked.
He huffed with a chuckle, “Probably.” Logan had to admit that this felt a whole hell of a lot better than sneaking out of the apartment, vaguely stating that he’ll be back. It was definitely better seeing your smile up at him than with disappointment.
“And now you have all your clothes on,” he teased, pulling you closer to him. You rolled your eyes, but you could feel your cheeks reddening, “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too, Lo,” you smiled before pulling him down into a kiss. It was supposed to be quick, but Logan couldn’t help deepening the kiss. You smiled into the kiss, amused by how those 3 words seemed to really get Logan going.
“Someone out there needs you, babe,” you muttered against his lips before pulling away. “Now, go be the man I know you are.”
He smiled before leaving a kiss on your forehead, “Yes ma’am.”
The goodbye was quick; you knew he’d be back sooner rather than later. But you were right: you had the best guy, no question.
♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)
♡ Warning/Tags: fighting but by no means violent
♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable
♡ Note: i FINALLY have a proper vision for the series and i'm so so so excited!
It didn’t take you long to move into the X-mansion. You typically kept most of your things in storage, preferring to live out of a suitcase as you traveled from place to place. It always made it easier to leave on short notice if needed.
But you promised yourself you’d try to make it work at the school, hence moving all your belongings in. Leaving in the cover of night would be significantly harder now—unless you were willing to part with more than a few possessions.
In just a month, you’d settled into a permanent room and reacquainted yourself with your newfound teammates. Like Charles, they treated you with kindness and respect whenever your paths crossed. Occasionally, you even assisted them if it aligned with your own self-interest.
You had more interactions with Logan than anyone else. Despite knowing him for only a few weeks, you two were definitely getting closer. Friends? Maybe. True friendships were rare for you. Most of your relationships were transactional, impersonal. But with Logan, words weren’t always necessary to convey what the other was thinking or feeling. There was a mutual understanding between you.
Still, he loved finding new ways to get under your skin. And you were more than happy to return the favor. It was a brazen, tenacious dance that raised the tension in any room you were in, even when others were around.
Bantering with him was the only exciting part of your days. You itched to do something—anything besides train. The thrill of a mission was what you craved. Waiting for that “something good” Charles and Logan had mentioned felt like torture.
You saw the others come and go on missions a few times over the month. They’d be gone for only a few hours or a day, but that was exactly what you wanted. Your requests, however, were falling on deaf ears.
“I think I’m ready,” you reaffirmed to Storm as you finished a set in the gym. “I did great in the Danger Room, I train on my own, I’ve read some rather boring files. I’m ready!”
“You survived the Danger Room,” Storm corrected. “You’d do better if you actually worked with us instead of next to us.”
You huffed, hands on your hips. “I’m trying, alright? And I have been doing better!”
“You have,” Storm nodded. She glanced over, noticing Logan entering the gym with a group of students, and a sly smile crossed her face. “If bickering and flirting with Logan were a measure of improvement, I’d say you’re more than ready for a mission.”
Looking over your shoulder, you saw Logan talking with some students. You’d bet his training shirt was a size too small, hugging every ridge of his toned physique. You quickly turned away, not wanting to give him any ammunition for later teasing.
You shook your head, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Well, he’s annoying, and it’s something to do until I can actually go on a mission.”
Storm noticed Logan catching sight of the two of you and saw the tension between you thicken. Around the students, you both were more restrained, but that didn’t stop Logan from eyeing you across the room.
“Patience is a virtue,” Storm remarked as she passed you, knowing it was best to leave you and Logan to your own devices.
Turning, you watched as Storm said something to Logan before leaving the gym. An idea sparked in your mind as Logan’s gaze settled on you. You gave him a nod toward the wall, signaling for him to follow. He obliged, moving out of the students’ earshot.
Noticing the sweat-soaked collar of your shirt, Logan couldn’t help himself. “Already hot and bothered just by me being here, sweetheart?”
Your face remained serious, ignoring his comment. “Can you do me a favor?” You crossed your arms, your tone sincere.
Logan huffed, realizing he wasn’t going to get a rise out of you. He nodded, mirroring your stance. “Yeah, what’s up?”
You felt silly about your request. “Can you talk to Charles for me? I want to start going on missions, but no one thinks I’m ready.”
Logan shook his head, surprised. “Probably because you’re not ready.” You’d heard it from Charles, Scott, and Storm, but hearing it from Logan felt like a betrayal, even personal.
“You know better than anyone I can handle myself!” Your voice was louder than intended. “I’ve been doing this longer than any of you—well, except you.”
Logan raised a hand, signaling you to ease up. “Easy, sweetheart, you’ve only been here a month.”
“And it’s agonizing!” you snapped. “I know I’m still learning this whole team thing, but you said I could do something good here.”
“Then do something!” Logan shot back, as if it was obvious. Before you could retort, he continued, “Look, Charles has me teaching self-defense to these boys without their abilities. Offer to do the same for the girls.”
For the first time, Logan had managed to shut you up. You looked over his shoulder, watching the boys practice without his supervision.
“Yeah, we have missions, but this is a school. Helping these kids—that’s the original mission.”
You glanced back at him, huffing. “You sound like Charles.”
“Because he has to remind me of that sometimes.” He placed a hand on your shoulder. “And now I get to remind you.”
His firm grasp was oddly calming. Weeks ago, you would’ve swatted his hand away with a scold, but now his touch felt sincere.
You nodded. “Alright, I’ll talk to Charles about training some students. But will you talk to him for me?”
Logan playfully hummed as if he was weighing his options, “I’ll vouch for you when the time comes,” Logan decided, shooting you a smile. He turned back to the boys, seeing them get a bit more rowdy under no current supervision. “I’d invite you to watch, but I think you’d distract the boys” he teased as he squeezed your shoulder. The look in his eyes was more mischievous than anything.
You picked his arm off your shoulder, sensing the bait, “Distract them or distract you?”
Logan eyed your leggings and cropped shirt. Your partially exposed abdomen and arms were dried with sweat, but Logan couldn’t get your smell out of his head. It was almost dizzying. It had been getting worse over the last few weeks. Your smell was all over the mansion on every goddamn surface in every goddamn room. He only found refuge in his own room. However, Logan was nothing but honest.
“Mainly the boys, but…” Logan stepped a little closer, taking a proper deep breath to inhale your scent, “I ain’t above your charms either.”
You deeply inhaled, your exhale resulting in a chuckle, “For a man that’s seen my case files, you have to know where that charm can lead you.”
Logan shrugged at your point, “For a woman who claimed she couldn’t possibly be a part of a team, you’re sure itchin’ to go on a mission.”
“So?”
He shrugged again, taking a few steps back with a playful gleam in his eyes. “First impressions aren’t everything.”
You watched as Logan went back to the students, immediately getting their attention when he spoke up. As you walked past the group to leave the gym, you noticed how attentive the male students were actually being, focusing on every word Logan was saying. And whether Logan wanted to say Charles made him do this or not, you could tell that he enjoyed it. If he said no, it wasn’t sincere. You knew a liar when you saw one.
After your conversation with Logan, you spoke with Charles. He was excited to see you take initiative in assisting the children. You didn’t have the heart to tell him it was Logan’s idea, but if Charles really wanted to know, he had his ways of figuring that out. You didn’t push the idea of going on missions to him again. That was your idea.
It only took Charles a day to find groupings of female students that were interested in your lessons. At this point, you didn’t interact with the students much. You were more of a lingering figure in the hallways. This was the students’ opportunity to size you up as well.
As you stood there in the gym with 12 girls staring at you with their judgemental eyes, you felt a bit exposed, a little vulnerable. You had grabbed their attention, and now you were slightly regretting it.
“Uhm, so, self-defense is important…your abilities won’t always save you. It may not be safe to use your abilities.” You nodded as if you were convincing yourself. Some of the girls nodded as well, giving you some semblance of confidence.
“I’m not…” a curly haired girl began as she looked at you. Her brown eyes were wide with hesitation, “I’m not a fighter.” A few of the other girls muttered in agreement.
“And you don’t have to be.” You tried to reassure them with a soft smile. “I’m not asking you guys to pick fights or…even like to fight. It’s just important to the Professor…important to me that you guys know how to protect yourselves. No matter where you go in life.”
Pride was a feeling you were familiar with. Usually that pride stemmed from your own work. And these girls were right; they definitely weren’t fighters. However, watching these girls take your advice, follow your movements, even laugh when they made a mistake, you felt pride outside of yourself. Even over the course of an hour, you saw the improvement. Their movements were more fluid as they learned to strike and block.
You could see that the hour was winding down. It flew by as you watched the paired up teens practice these simple moves on each other. Your mind was already racing with ideas on what to teach next. Sighing with contentment, you clapped to grab their attention.
“Alright, that’s gonna be all for today!” you told them, only holding some of the girls’ attention. The others were still playfully fighting at this point. “Same time next week? Yeah?”
A number of the girls nodded as they began to grab their things. When your eyes turned toward the door, you spotted Logan leaned against the doorframe with his large forearms crossed. You looked smitten with himself as he watched you interact with the students. You playfully narrowed your eyes with a soft smile.
You turned your attention back to the girls who were grabbing their bags, “And if you don’t remember anything from today, just remember to never pull your punches. What you lack in experience, you can make up for in ferocity, alright?”
The giddy girls all were quick to say their thank yous and goodbyes as they passed you. Some said bye to Logan, too, as he moved out of their way.
With hands shoved in his jean pockets, he approached, “They don’t look half-bad,” he remarked, referring to the students. “And you look pleased with yourself, sweetheart.”
You bit your lip to hold back a smile, knowing Logan was going to use this as ammunition on why he’s always right. But a part of you didn’t care. “You were right; these are good kids. And I may have had fun,” you admitted as you grabbed the spray bottle and pushed the mop to clean down the mats. Logan walked beside you with raised brows as you began to clean up.
“Oh, I was right? That sounds good coming off your lips,” Logan teased, lightly shoving your shoulder.
“Don’t get used to it, Wolvie.” You eyed him as you turned around with the mop around to toward the other end. Noticing his sweats and t-shirt–that damn tight t-shirt again–you motioned to the equipment toward the end of the gym. “Are you here to work out or bother me? Because the weights are down there, brute.”
Logan's mouth quirked into a wry smile at your question. Walking next to you, he could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and your own natural scent. It made him feel oddly relaxed yet infuriated. He let his eyes drift down to your body as you pushed the mop.
“I was, but,” His eyes lingered on your form before taking the mop from you, tossing it against the wall, “now I wanna see if what you’re teaching these girls are any good.”
Logan backed up, giving ample space between the two of you. You cocked your head, interested in the dare but still hesitant. The tension was already stiff in the gym with anticipation at the mere mention of a fight.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” you shot back, already beginning to stretch your arms, “but if you wanted a personal lesson, all you had to do was ask, Wolvie.” Your tone teased him, bringing a gleam of challenge in his features.
In the empty gym, you both took your stances across from each other, sizing the other up. The thrill of anticipation and adrenaline began to flood your bloodstream as you mentally refamiliarized with how Logan fought during the Danger Room. Brutish is how you’d described it.
“You gonna keep your claws to yourself?”
“Gonna keep your knives to yourself?”
You dramatically rolled your eyes. You unsheathed your knives, darting them to a nearby board in a show of faith.
Logan cracked his knuckles, a smirk playing on his lips. “You sure you want to do this? I wouldn’t want to hurt you, princess.”
You rolled your eyes, shifting into a defensive stance. “The only thing delicate around here is your ego.”
With a sudden burst, Logan lunged forward, aiming for your midsection. You ducked, the rush of air from his punch sending a thrill down your spine. You pivoted swiftly, landing a sharp kick to his side. Logan staggered but quickly regained his stance, admiration creeping on his lips.
“Not bad,” he admitted, his tone teasing, “but you’ll need to do better than that to impress me.”
You couldn’t help but grin, “I already know I impress you.”
You darted in again, your movements a blur. A quick jab here, a feint there—Logan parried some strikes but let one slip through, catching him right on the cheek. The surprise on his face was priceless, and you took a moment to bask in it. If Logan could bruise, he was sure he would have.
You winced, a playful lilt in your voice, “I don’t pull my punches, Wolvie.”
Logan dryly chuckled, rubbing his cheek, “Alright, sweetheart.”
With a mock glare, he lunged again, relying on his size and strength. You ducked low, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and then executed a spinning kick that nearly knocked him off balance. He stumbled, caught between frustration and admiration.
“Gotta say, I like the way you move for me,” he remarked, genuine awe shining through.
“You wanted an up close show,” you shot back, grinning as you moved in again, launching a series of rapid jabs. Logan blocked a few but let one slip, landing solidly on his jaw again. He staggered, a laugh escaping his lips. “And I aim to please.”
As they exchanged blows, the gym echoed with their banter and laughter. You weren’t even exclusively on the mats anymore. You were moving around the equipment, against the wall. Logan tried to pin you against the wall, but you slipped out of his grasp, executing a swift spin that brought you behind him once more.
With a burst of speed, you locked him in a tight hold, your bodies inches apart. Logan struggled, muscles flexing beneath their grip, but you had the upper hand. “You’re not getting away that easily,” you teased, leaning closer, their breath brushing against his ear. You felt Logan ease up.
“Don’t know if I want to,” Logan shot back, breathless yet exhilarated.
Feeling your cheeks reddened, you pushed Logan down, pinning him to the padded floor in a swift maneuver with knee and forearm. You positioned yourself over him, yours faces inches apart. Logan didn’t appear defeated; he looked pleased with himself despite the pressure on his abdomen and chest.
You were pleased with yourself, too…for more reasons than one.
“I won,” you breathlessly stated, a small smile on your lips.
Logan’s eyes darted between your eyes and your lips. He unconsciously licked his lips before another smile grew on his face, “Then why do I feel so damn lucky?”
You would’ve expected your heart to slow at this point, yet it stayed elevated as you looked down at Logan. His hazel eyes were now a dark green. It was over. You could release him, but you didn’t. Against your better judgment, you nuzzled yourself close to his ear, hearing his breath hitch.
“Because most men barely make it out with their lives when I get ‘em like this.”
It took everything in Logan not to groan as lips grazed against his ear. Yet, he couldn’t help the hand that partially gripped your waist, feeling the warmth radiating from your body.
“Not the worst view to take in before the slaughter.”
Your mind was fuzzy being this close to Logan. It only worsened when Logan gripped you. Your entire body was buzzing, screaming to pull away. Still, you stayed, only slightly shifting your weight off his chest. The competitive gleam in Logan’s eyes was replaced with something softer, sensual even. Your breathing slowed, but your heart was racing a mile a minute.
Even Logan couldn’t seem to piece together another quip, a retort. All his thoughts had been stripped away, replaced with only you. You were consuming every ounce of his senses except the very one he craved the most. As close as you were, it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain. Yet, Logan was reluctant because even in the tenderness of your eyes, he saw a flash of something–he almost missed it—that he hadn’t seen in you before.
Fear.
“I gotta talk to Charles,” you quickly stammered as you lifted yourself off of Logan, not even thinking about facing him again. As quick as you said it, you were heading for the door. Logan could only muster the faint call of your name from the floor. He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t stop you.
After slowly standing, Logan noticed your knives still jammed into the wall. Your favorites, no less. Pulling them from the wall, Logan took the knives with him.
You’d be looking for them eventually.
He couldn’t wait until you did.
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