Darcy/Logan - " i love you... oh, damn it, don't look at me, i'm all red... "
Darcy Lewis/Logan
Rated T
~~~~~~~~~~
Darcy curled up under Logan’s arm, nuzzling under it until it was draped around her shoulders and she was draped across him, her hand scratching his chest, petting the hair there as she sighed in contentment.
Logan tightened his hold on her, curling around her and tangling his legs with hers.
“Don’t let it ever be said that the Wolverine isn’t cuddly,” she mused softly.
“Only for you, I am,” he replied. “I’m gonna let you fall asleep and then I’m gonna head out, though.”
“Aww,” she said, pouting slightly. He could feel her poking out her bottom lip against his skin.
“Darce…” he said softly.
“I know you have to. I just don’t want you to. You’re warm, and I like falling asleep with you. Like to see how it’d be to wake up beside you too.”
He let out a sigh and curled around her. “I could stay awake.”
“No. I want you to get your rest.”
“I could sleep on your couch?”
“You’re sure you’d claw me to death if you stayed in bed with me?” she asked.
He inhaled deeply and nodded. “Not sure it’d be tonight, but it’d happen sometime. I’m sorry.”
“Logan, it’s fine. If this is how we have to do things, it’s how we have to do them. Don’t let my bratty pouting make you feel bad.”
“It doesn’t,” he assured her. “I want to stay as much as you want me to.”
“Aww,” she purred, nuzzling him.
“Love you,” he said. The words tumbled out before he could stop them. Or edit himself like he usually did.
“Dammit,” he swore.
“What?” she asked, her head coming up to peer at him. “Did you just--”
“Yes, I love you. Now stop looking at me, I’m getting all red.”
Darcy grinned and shifted so she was straddling his hips. She leaned down to kiss him. “Love you too.”
He made a noise he’d deny making later, but his hands, they worked on their own, gripping her ass and holding her tightly against his front. “Do you really?”
“Of course I do,” she said, grinning. “Thought that was obvious.”
“It was,” he said. “But I never want to believe the obvious.”
“Well believe this,” she countered, kissing him again. “You wanna go ahead and leave? I can walk you out.”
“Not now,” he said, capturing her lips and holding them for a long moment.
She had her palms pressed against his chest, holding herself up, her hair was falling like a curtain in front of his face.
“What do you wanna do?” she asked, teasing slightly.
“I think you know the answer to that and you’re just playing with me,” he chuckled and she found his lips once more.
She inhaled and let it out, sitting up and pushing her hair back from her face so she could gaze down at him. “Fine, but you have to sleep on the couch tonight. No way am I letting you sleep under another roof after you tell me you love me for the first time.”
He smiled and reached for her. “Of course not, darlin’.”
“Good,” she said, booping his nose before kissing the tip of it.
Thank you everyone who submitted prompts, thank you so much to everyone who responded to the prompts, I am super dooper overwhelmed! I initially thought I’d do fifty prompts at 250 words because it’d be about 12,500 words and that didn’t seem so bad. I didn’t get that many but there’s over thrice that number of words in fic on this list! So that worked out nicely!! :D Enjoy <3! I’ll be in my corner crashing so send hugs and nice thoughts and fic recommendations for me while I recover.
Eeeee! For your prompts would you be up for a Logan(Wolverine)/Darcy Awkward meetings #5?
Yes!! For the incredibly lovely and patient @ragwitch, for whom this prompt fill is reallly late. I changed some things from the prompt but I hope you enjoy it anyways :)
Prompt: Awkward Meeting Themed, #5, ““I met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 in the morning and when i asked you what the hell you were doing you slurred something about dogs being great and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that’s why you’re here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger’s backyard in the middle of the night.”
Pairing: Logan x Darcy
Rating: T, for language.
He wakes to the tinkling sounds of the dog’s collar, to his happy snuffles. This wouldn’t be unusual, but the sound is coming from outside and he knows the old mutt doesn’t leave his warm pillow by the couch for anything but food and walks. The doggie door was installed as a precaution really, and he’d never even seen him use it. Until now.
Logan is up like a shot from the bed, shoving his feet into boots, and he extends his claws for good measure. He creeps, as slowly as he can, into the kitchen and looks out the sliding glass door.
There’s a girl in the backyard.
She’s…playing with the dog?
She’s a dark bundle of puffy parka and darker hair as she reaches into the mutt’s fur and pets him.
“Aren’t you a handsome, handsome pupper! You’re so great and cute and sweet!” she croons, and the damned dog just takes it ecstatically, his snout pointed towards the sky exposing his neck for more scratchings.
“What the fuck,” he says to himself, blinking a few times to make sure he’s not still dreaming.
The digital clock above the stove reads 3:14am and he has no idea what the hell’s going on.
He sheathes his claws – judging by her complete lack of self-preservation (a parka and jeans for a night in the mountains, playing with some random dog), she is definitely a civilian.
The mutt knocks her over in his exuberance and she laughs uproariously, pulling the dog down with her.
He slides open the door and glares at the intruder.
“Who the hell are you?”
She weakly pushes his dog away and shoves herself upward with what looks like great effort.
“Darcy Lewis,” she answers, slightly unsteady on her feet. “Whoa…Heyyy, muscles…” she reaches over with her index finger, poised to poke his bicep.
He steps away, giving her a speculative look.
“You on somethin’, lady?”
“Rummmm!” the girl declares, lips stretched wide into a smile. “Mon Capitan Mooorgann!”
“Jesus Christ.”
“We’re camping for Janey’s pre-wedding shenanigans,” she explains, tripping and slurring over the last word. “Can you b’lieve?! Camping?! I tol’ her we should get Avengers themed strippers but she said no.” Darcy pouts, plump bottom lip jutting out. “Wanna see Fury in a thong!” she giggles, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue.
“We’d better get inside, it’s cold as fuck out here.”
“M’fine! I’ll just go back to camp, sorry ‘bout wakin’ you, Sir Beardly Man.”
“It’s Logan. And you’re not going anywhere like this. You’ll get lost and die of hypothermia before anythin’ else.”
“Hey! I can make it back! I’m a stong, independent, woman who don’t need no – uh-oh.”
And then she vomits. Right on his shoes.
Then there’s a horrible lurching sound he realizes is coming from her, and she’s on her hands and knees on the pine needle covered ground and she’s puking again, just a millisecond after he manages to step away.
Not that the damage isn’t already done.
He looks down at his ruined boots. “Fuck.” He grimaces.
“Fuck,” Darcy repeats, voice croaky. “I’m so sorry, I – “
“Just - just get in the house alright?”
She takes his proffered hand and with some effort, ends up upright again.
“Sure you don’t have a lady or gentleman friend in there who’d be mad at me?”
“What? No.”
“You sure? A big, brawny manly man like you?”
He leads the way, toeing off his boots outside the kitchen doors.
“Not for a long time,” he mumbles under his breath. To his horror, she hears it.
“Oh no!” she giggles, huge blue eyes slightly unfocused as she peers at him. “A dry spell, huh?” She stage-whispers, “Or…don’t tell me you’re a vir - a virge – “ Her brows furrow. “A Virginian?!”
He’s unable to help his burst of laughter. “I’m not a Virginian.”
She nods. “Okay. Oh, hey, is your buddy coming in?”
Logan lets out a short, high whistle and a ball of shaggy brown-black fur trots in after them.
Darcy smiles. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“Dog.”
She peers at him disgustedly. “You named your dog, Dog. Not even Spot, but Dog?” she asks.
He shrugs and begins leading her to the bedroom.
She uses his bathroom (“There’s ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet!” he calls through the door) and he gets an extra blanket, then lays it at the foot of the bed.
“Gets cold up here at night. Or early morning,” he tells her gruffly, when she ambles into the bedroom.
Dog pads in after him and sits by the door, tongue lolling out while he watches them.
Darcy sits on the bed and begins to toe off her boots and take off her parka. Underneath, she’s all soft mossy-green sweater and even softer curves. He looks away and begins to fuss at Dog.
“Alright, Lumberjack McScruff, tuck me in.” She wiggles expectantly under the cover.
He swallows.
“Ain’t tuckin’ you in,” he rumbles, and adjusts the plaid blanket at the foot of the bed so it’s covering her feet.
“Thanks, guy,” she says, already halfway to sleep.
He grunts and runs a hand through his hair.
Darcy pats the spot next to her in bed. “C’mere, buddy,” she says in a lilting, sweet voice and something in him clenches.
“He’s not allowed on the furn – “
But it’s too late, because Dog sees his chance and happily bounds up on the bed and stretches himself alongside the girl. If he’s not mistaken, when the mutt cranes his head to stare back at him it’s with two big, brown, smug eyes.
He scowls. “Fine. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.” He turns to leave and thinks of one other thing. “Remember. Bathroom’s across the hall, please don’t puke on my bed.”
Darcy’s groan is muffled by blankets and dog fur from where they’re burrowing in next to each other. “I said I was sorry!”
He wakes up with the sun.
He pads to the kitchen sets up the old Mr. Coffee (“Yesss,” Darcy says when she wakes and sees what he’s made. “You’re a god among men.” And he raises a brow because no one can really think that, can they?). He sticks some frozen waffles that he forgot he had into the toaster.
They’re halfway through their meal when he looks at her, suddenly alarmed.
“When you were… “
“White girl wasted?” she finishes for him, stuffing an obscene portion of waffle and syrup and butter into her mouth.
He coughs. “Drunk. Did you happen to tell people where you were headed? ‘Cause…”
“Oh shit!” Darcy exclaims, and Dog, who’s back on his trusty pillow twitches his ears. She pulls out her phone. In a minute, she’s on the line with a woman who immediately screeches out a series of indecipherable exclamations.
“Nooo, Helen, no pterodactyl noises,” Darcy whimpers, and brings her free hand to rub at her temple. “My brain is trying to chisel its way out of my skull.”
They talk for a bit and then -
“I’m here with…Luke? I think?”
“Logan,” he corrects, taking orange juice out of the fridge and pouring himself a glass.
She pauses and turns to give him a very…thorough once-over, then her eyes round.
“Uhh. I’m pretty sure I’m here in a cabin with freaking Wolverine,” she intones into the phone and he nearly drops his glass onto the floor.
The woman on the phone chatters back excitedly and Darcy taps her foot. When she can get a word in, he gives Darcy directions (he’s not even a blip on a GPS) then she relays it to Helen.
“They haven’t left camp yet, so they’ll be here in ten,” Darcy says, tapping her phone off and taking a hearty gulp of the coffee.
“No problem.” He drinks his orange juice and licks the corner of his lip. “…Kinda nice talkin’ to another human, actually.”
“Yeah? You ever come back to join civilization every once in a while?”
“Nah.”
“You sure? Because I know where all the fun bars are and I’m pretty sure there a hot dude under that dead thing clinging to your face.”
“What’s wrong with my face?” He crosses his arms over his chest, and glowers.
She smirks at him, not at all affected.
“Absolutely nothing,” she replies, words dripping sweetness and he has to remind himself that he should bring the glass to his lips.
Eventually, the crunch of tires on dirt and gravel interrupt them.
Two sharp honks sound outside, and Darcy winces. “Helen, I’mma kill you,” she gripes, and zips up her parka.
Darcy then turns to him with two big luminous eyes and a wickedly sharp smile.
She takes a random piece of paper from her pocket and hurriedly scribbles something onto it.
“My number,” she tells him, pinning him with a look from under her long lashes that makes the skin on his arms tingle. “In case you need ideas for new dog names.”
He nods once, brusquely, and takes the slip of paper from her. He shoves it into his back pocket without even looking at it.
“Darcy! Come on!” the lady in the car calls out. “We’re gonna be late for Spa Day!”
Darcy leaves.
He goes back to his life for a while; takes Dog out for walks, makes dinner for one. Studiously ignores any communications from Xavier.
It’s two weeks later, and Logan is staring at himself in the slightly streaky mirror above his pedestal sink. The bare bulb flickers.
He angles his head to the side, takes a pair of small scissors and begins trimming.
She picks up after two rings.
Logan doesn’t even bother with a greeting. “Spot,” he begins, “is clichéd as hell.”
Darcy Lewis doesn’t miss a beat and he can hear the smile in her voice when she responds.
“How about Rex, then?”
“That’s okay.” He pauses, runs a hand over his newly shorn beard. “Was thinkin’ Captain Morgan, though.”
Her answering warm laughter alights sparks all the way up his spine.
Logan’s been at war for what feels like centuries, and when he comes home he has absolutely no use for balls and parties and everyone twittering and gossiping at him. Unfortunately for him, he came home a war hero, which makes him very high in demand in the marriage market.
It’s only a matter of time before some enterprising family traps him into an engagement that he hates, so his family friend Charles Xavier puts him in touch with a young woman in similar circumstances.
Their courtship and engagement is only supposed to be pretend, but Logan finds himself enjoying their outings and the way they buffer each other at social engagements more and more. When he meets her family, sees the kind of marriage they’re trying to force her into, he knows that he’s never going to let her go. She’s his to protect, after all.
2. Shieldshock (Steve/Darcy)
Steve is an American businessman who’s come to London to trade but has a disdain for the English nobility and their utter disregard for the lower social classes. They, in turn, look down on him for dealing in trade. He’s frustrated as all hell, but can’t go home without turning things around, and doesn’t trust any of the English upper class who are nice to his face but mock him behind his back.
Enter Darcy, the genius daughter of an elderly widower who runs her father’s affairs without anyone knowing. So used to people dismissing her or mocking her for her business sense, she finds a kindred spirit in Steve, who is simply in awe of this young woman who defies convention and is willing to risk her own reputation to help him.
3. Wintershock (Bucky/Darcy) - Persuasion AU
in which Darcy is the ward of Sir Alexander Pierce. She and Bucky fall desperately in love, but she breaks it off when she finds out that Pierce is waiting for them to get married so that he can leverage Bucky into doing his dirty work. She doesn’t want to be responsible for that, or have Bucky get killed when he confronts her powerful guardian, so she never tells him why.
Years later he returns from war with a prosthetic arm and a hardened, weary heart. Everyone wants to marry him off to their daughters or sisters, but he’s bitterly aware that his heart belongs to one woman and one woman only, as much as he’d love to flaunt a new love interest in her face.
But he’s older, and wiser, and the more time he spends around Pierce the more he gets an idea of why she sent him away in the first place…
Bonus:
North & South AU - Wintershock (not regency, but i couldn’t resist)
Bucky crawled his way out of poverty when he was a young boy, assisting his stepmother, Sarah, in providing for his sickly stepbrother Steve and his younger sister Rebecca.
The industrial boom in his city, plus a keen business sense honed over the years, has made him a bit ruthless and protective of those under his purview. When he meets Darcy, a young woman who has recently moved up from the South, he’s captivated by her confidence, her intelligence, even the proud tilt to her chin. He could listen to her talk about the stars and her studies with her friend, Jane Foster, for hours.
When she protects him in the middle of a riot, getting injured when she pushes him out of harm’s way, he allows himself to hope that his feelings might be returned.
Darcy was taking up most of the only sofa in the whole cabin, so if Logan wanted to sit down, (and he did), he’d have to share it with her.
The thing about Darcy Lewis was, and everyone who’d been staying here to keep her safe had said this, she was a very tactile individual. And that it wasn’t a bad thing. Logan certainly didn’t mind it initially.
But he could see it turning bad for him. Bad because he liked it too much. He started craving the little brushes of her feet against his thigh. To the point where he wondered if she’d object to putting her feet in his lap or not.
She was bouncing her toes against his leg currently. There was no TV in the cabin, which would have helped keep his mind occupied on something other than how her feet would feel in his hands.
Finally, he reached down to grab her foot, causing her to gasp when she looked up from her book. “Oh, sorry... was I doing it again?”
“No, it’s...” he began. “It’s fine.” He cleared his throat and released her foot. “It’s fine.”
She smirked and pulled her feet away, handing him her book as she gathered her pillow and her blanket to crawl down to his side of the couch. “You can read over my shoulder if you want,” she said, snuggling up by his side and making herself comfortable.
He did read over her shoulder, but he couldn’t remember for the life of him what the book was about.
Ship: Darcy Lewis/Logan
For: @nefariousinkblot
Song: “Shadow Dancing” - Andy Gibb - 1978
Rating: G
Length: 420
Tags: Fluff, Cutesy, Morning After, Idiots in Love
Summary:
Logan’s so far gone he doesn’t even mind calling the morning after their first date. No matter how desperate it makes him look.
------------------------
All it took was one look for Logan to know. He’d do anything for Darcy Lewis. Including, but not limited to, calling her the morning after their date.
He knew it made him look desperate, and dammit, maybe he was.
Her phone rang twice before she picked it up. “Hello?”
His stomach dropped down to his feet as he scrambled for the right words. “Uh. Hello,” he replied.
“Logan?” Darcy asked.
“Yeah, yeah. You guessed it. It’s me.”
“You left so quick this morning, I honestly didn’t think I’d be hearing from you again…”
He cleared his throat. “Well, uh… I had to get to work.”
That was a lie, he’d woken up with his face buried in her hair, his legs tangled with hers. And he’d freaked out. Not because it was too much, but because it was not enough. He’d had the intense desire to pop out to the kitchen and make her breakfast. To eat breakfast with her in bed.
No maybe about it, he definitely was desperate for her.
“No kidding…” she said, sounding mildly amused. “On a Sunday?”
“Yeah… uh… you know… construction. It takes no days off… or whatever…” He grimaced at how lame he sounded as he rubbed his hand over his face. “So… I’m off at five, are you free for dinner?’
“Dinner? So soon after our hookup?” She sounded facetiously affronted. It was cute, one of the things that had attracted Logan to her in the first place. But right now, he really wanted to hear something real.
He chuckled dryly. “Uhh--yeah? If you’re not busy.”
“I’m not. But I don’t want to go out. How about I cook for you?”
He swallowed down his first reaction, which was an embarrassing Yes, yes, yes, I’ll be there at five sharp. Instead, he took a breath, held it for a beat before replying. “That sounds great, actually. Want me to bring anything?”
“Wine. And yourself. You like chicken, right?”
“Chicken’s great. And you got it… I’ll bring a white? That goes with chicken, right? I’ll be there after I get off work and shower… so around six?” He had to make it sound like he wasn’t lying before. About work. About not wanting to just stay at her place until she made him go home.
“Six sounds perf. I’ll be waiting.”
He smiled and answered before he could stop himself. “Me too.”
