Ben Affleck as Matt Murdock/Daredevil
DAREDEVIL (2003) dir. Mark Steven Johnson
seen from China
seen from Cayman Islands

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Thailand
seen from Peru
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Cayman Islands
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from South Korea

seen from Netherlands

seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia
seen from Peru
Ben Affleck as Matt Murdock/Daredevil
DAREDEVIL (2003) dir. Mark Steven Johnson
Source: Hugh Jackman
Nothing New
(Ao3 Link)
Summary: Needing some extra cash, you take up an offer to become a nanny to an eleven-year-old girl named Laura. However, things become complicated when you begin to bond with her attractive but taciturn father, Logan. (15.3k words) Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) Tags and warnings: OldMan!Logan x nanny afab!reader, slight reader backstory, age gap (reader is 27/28), romance, parenthood, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut (vaginal fingering, implied blow job, cunnilingus, face-sitting, protected p in v sex (condom and pill mentioned)), depiction of coughing up blood, post-Logan 2017 (ending changed). Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or The X-Men, its properties, or its characters—they are the property of Disney. The lyrics belong to Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers.
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I've had (I've had) too much to drink tonight. How did I go from growing up to breaking down? And I wake up (wake up) in the middle of the night. It's like I can feel time moving. How can a person know everything at 18 but nothing at 22? Will you still want me when I'm nothing new?
You should have known that working in a start-up café was going to be a disaster.
It was only meant to be a temporary way of getting money for rent, food and utilities whilst you tried to compose the novel that every English major declares they would write when they graduated.
Only you were actually going to do it.
Since graduating, you worked a few menial jobs to ensure you could fund the venture, and you had the intention of completing it.
Eventually.
But the fact that you had to keep changing your job was not quite your own fault.
An office job had been the most stable of the jobs. It was tedious data entry, but it paid reasonably. However, the company folded into another, which meant redundancies. You did quit the bar work, but given that the owner was often spending more time drinking than managing, it was becoming too chaotic. You then helped a friend out with their start-up café, but after six months or so, the bills and costs were increasing exponentially and it became too much for your friend to cope.
“It’s this economy,” Josh said when he shut the doors for the last time. “The only business that seems to thrive is Starbucks.”
“I think they lace their coffee with something to make it more addictive,” you replied. “Well, guess we’re back to my favourite hobby: job hunting.”
“How is the novel coming along?”
“Ehh…” You had written some of it. Mostly scenes that came into your head, but you were still trying to find the connective tissue to link them together. And fundamentally, the heart of the story was evading you. Or you didn’t have the heart in it. Either way, it had been a work in progress for five years. “It’s there.”
“Well, luckily, I installed his board for odd jobs. Maybe you can get some quick cash if needed.”
“Yeah, I don’t think my parents can bail me out this time. I should have taken up that publishing opportunity when I graduated.”
“Didn’t you decline it because you refused to be a nepo-baby?”
“Well, it was just a low-paying internship, but I guess the progression was there. I’m nearly thirty, Josh, and nothing in my life is working out.”
You sighed and looked at the job board. Cleaner. Possibly, but you heard some horror stories about hoarders. Granted, you were not in a position to be picky. You glanced over a few adverts for guitar lessons and dog walkers. Nanny. You looked at that advert.
Nanny needed ASAP for sixth grader in the local area. Spanish-speaking ideal. Pay to be discussed.
“Yeah, saw the guy come in for that yesterday. Might be a single dad. Looks like he’s seen better days,” Josh said. “Quite good looking though.”
“You trying to get me a job or a date?” you joked. “Might be worth a shot, and sounds like easy money.”
“Looking after a kid?”
“The kid’s in sixth grade. All I need to do is feed them and make sure they do not jump off the roof.” You grabbed your phone and typed the number at the bottom. You didn’t get an answer, but managed to get the voicemail. “Hi, I saw the advert for the nanny job and was wondering if it was still available.” You left your name and number and went to collect your bag. You managed to snag some food as well since it would likely go to waste if you didn’t take it. “Well, here’s to the next disaster.”
It was later that night when your phone rang. You were barely keeping yourself awake, but it was a number that looked familiar.
“Hello?” you asked sleepily.
“ You were calling about a job ?” the gruff voice on the other end asked.
You sat up, adrenaline now waking you, “Yeah, the nanny job, right?”
“ How soon can you start ?”
“Well, luckily for you, I have had to find a new pasture in life,” you chuckled. You didn’t get much of a response. “Tomorrow too soon?”
“ Well, luckily for you, I got a day off so we can have some form of informal discussion .”
“Sure. I can be there at 09:00.”
-o-
While it was not a formal job interview, you thought you would at least dress nicely and make a good impression. It was a balmy late August day, so you put on a lilac sundress and white sandals.
The apartment was not too far from where you lived, and given the pleasant weather, you decided to walk the three or four blocks. Point in your favour: conveniently close.
You did not know what to expect when you arrived at the block. However, the last thing you expected was the dad to look like that . He was quite a bit older than you, if the salt and pepper hair and beard had anything to go by. Underneath the dark jeans and short-sleeved shirt, you could tell there was a solid, muscular frame. And then there were his eyes, which flickered between brown and green.
“You coming in or…” he said.
“Yeah, hi, sorry,” you replied. Given the weather, he offered you a Dr Pepper or sparkling water. Unsure if this was a test, you took the S. Pelegrino. While you watched him, you could not help but think he looked familiar. “I didn't quite get your name, sorry.”
“Logan,” he replied as he handed you the glass. “Ever done this before?”
“Honestly, no. I mean, I did the odd babysitting when I was in high school, but the kids were much younger and already in bed.”
“Well, you're going to have to pick Laura up from school, give her dinner and make sure she does her homework. This job I have at the moment is a lot of shift work, so it might be breakfast and dropping her off at school as well.”
“Seems straightforward. Does she have any allergies or medical conditions?”
“No, she's… very healthy. School begins about 08:30 and ends at 15:00. Laura decided she wanted to play soccer on Wednesdays so it might be 16:00.”
You jotted the notes on a pad, “Okay.”
“Of course, I’ll pay the expenses for food and travel.”
“The advert mentioned being able to speak Spanish, but you’re Canadian…”
“It’s complicated. Laura’s first language is Spanish. She's Mexican. Her English is coming along, but sometimes it helps to get some words in.” You did not think it was worth questioning for any sort of elaboration, but you did not know how this could be complicated. “How is your Spanish?”
“Bien. La mejor de mi clase.” Logan blinked at you, clearly not quite grasping the fluidity of your speech. “Highest grades in my class.”
“Well, I guess the only thing I can do now is introduce you to Laura.”
The apartment was not particularly large but had two reasonable bedrooms. It was much more homely than your studio apartment, particularly as you looked around Laura’s bedroom. It had pale blue walls, a baby pink comforter and a spattering of comics all over the small bookcase, along with some books that you thought seemed too young for an eleven-year-old. Granted, if English were not her first language, it might be used for a different purpose other than recreation.
On the bed sat a small girl, cross-legged and reading a comic. She turned her attention to you and Logan, her brown eyes squinting as if she were trying to decipher you.
“Kiddo, meet your new nanny,” Logan said.
“Hola, mucho gusto,” you said, perhaps thinking that speaking in her native language would break the ice. Laura blinked a little, still trying to work out if you were a threat or not. “I like your room.”
“Thank you,” Laura replied. She looked at her father, and you got the impression that she was silently asking who you were and why you were in their apartment.
Perhaps sensing that little progress was going to be made, Logan decided to return to the kitchen.
“I guess she takes a while to warm up to people,” you commented.
Logan snorted, “Given everything she’s gone through it ain’t surprising. Took her days to even speak to me.”
“Is her mom around?”
“I don’t even know who her mom is.” You looked at him, now feeling a little horrified and wondering if this was a good idea. “Not like that. It’s…”
“Complicated. You said.”
“Look, if this is not going to work, you can leave and not come back.”
You thought about it for a moment. You could leave and find something else. It would be less hassle, and you didn’t need the hassle. However, you and Logan needed something from this arrangement: he needed someone to look after Laura so he could keep a roof over their heads, and you needed this job to keep your roof over your head. As complicated as their history might be, you decided that it would not be an obstacle to what you needed.
“It’s fine. I won’t push. I can start tomorrow if you need me to.”
“Well, you’re in luck. I need to do a twelve-hour shift during the day. Laura’s school does not start until Wednesday, so she’ll need someone to be here.”
“Oh…” You had thought it would be a drop-off and pick-up for a few hours so that you could build rapport with Laura first. Twelve hours alone with a taciturn pre-teen was more daunting than you thought. However, you needed the money, and the number of hours could give you a boost. “Sure. What time?”
“Shift starts at 10:00, but be here for 09:30. I’ll make sure she’s up, cleaned and has breakfast.”
“Okay, deal. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
-o-
It was 09:27 when you knocked on the door for Logan’s apartment. Now that you didn’t need to dress to make an impression, you elected to wear jeans and a t-shirt, which hopefully would indicate to Laura that you were not a threat.
When Logan answered the door, he was wearing a white shirt tucked into some black trousers that really suited his- You cut yourself off before it got unprofessional.
“You look nice,” you commented and then mentally slapped yourself. It was not a lie. He did look nice. Really nice. So much for professionalism.
“I miss being able to work in jeans,” he muttered. “Okay, Laura is fed. Bedtime is 20:00 sharp. I’ll try to be back before 23:00. Food’s in the fridge, but here is my work number and credit card if needed.”
“Sure.”
“Laura,” he said to his daughter, who was sitting at the kitchen table and staring at you. “Be nice. She’s doing us a favour.” He kissed the top of her head and grabbed his keys.
And then it was just you and Laura.
Alone.
For ten and a half hours.
You had a bad feeling about this.
“So… ¿Te gusta el parque?” Laura blinked at you. Maybe your accent was the problem. “Maybe we can go to the park?”
“And do what?” Laura asked, her brown eyes flickering between suspicion and confusion.
“Play. I think there are swings and a roundabout. Maybe walk. Get some fresh air.”
“You play fútbol?”
“Soccer? No. Un poco en escuela but we can play if you want and get some practice in before you start school.”
Laura nodded. You took a deep breath. Progress.
In minutes, Laura put her trainers on, and grabbed a soccer ball and her rucksack.
There was a small park about two blocks away, with a small play area and a little soccer field. The goal nets were slightly torn but usable for taking penalty goal shots.
“Okay, so the spot is here, you just need to kick towards the goal,” you instructed. Laura nodded and tapped the ball. It rolled a little, but did not quite get past the posts. “A little more force there. Think like it’s the goal to win the World Cup.” This time, Laura kicked harder, the ball rolling over the goal line. “Good.” There were some more practice shots until Laura got the hang of the speed and velocity needed to kick the ball. A couple of times, she hit the post and groaned in frustration. However, you told her that it was normal and even the best players did it. “So I am going to be the goalkeeper, and you need to kick past me.”
“And what do you do?”
“Try to catch it.”
Laura lined up the ball and kicked it towards you. You decided to let it pass so she could build her confidence. You would put more effort in soon, but she needed to know that she could hit the goal with someone there. After about an hour and a half, you could sense she was tiring.
“Okay Laura, time's up. Full time,” you said, grabbing the ball.
“We can’t keep going?” she asked.
“Seems we burnt off all your energy, and we’re nearing lunchtime. Are you hungry?”
At the idea of food, Laura beamed.
While taking her to a diner would be easier, you were cautious not to overstep the boundaries by using Logan’s credit card when you knew there was food at the apartment. Theoretically, you could make something healthy. Or at the very least balanced.
“¿Qué te gustaría comer?” you asked. Laura shrugged. You hummed and went into the cupboard. You held up a jar of peanut butter and jelly (hoping she did not have a peanut allergy) and a half-empty bag of wholemeal bread (probably bought by Logan to at least put something healthy into his child). Laura nodded, and you got to work making the sandwich. “How about un manzana?” You found a Babybel and added that to the plate. So far, it was quite healthy, but there was always room for fun. Cheetos. Perfect. “Here.”
Instantly, Laura ate the sandwich, followed by the Cheetos and Babybel, much like a typical kid going for the less healthy items on the plate, but she did eat the apple.
“At least we know the safe foods for a packed lunch,” you commented.
“Packed lunch?” Laura questioned.
“Or are you getting cafeteria food? Granted, it’s been a while since I had school food.” Laura shrugged. You made a note to ask Logan later. You looked at the fridge and noticed a list. School supplies. “You got all of these?”
“No.”
“Okay, so maybe we can watch some television for a bit, and then head to Target and see what supplies we can get.”
-o-
You had thought shopping for school supplies would be a simple idea, but you did not realise how much stuff a sixth grader needed. When you were eleven, all you needed were pens, pencils, a ruler, a calculator and an eraser. Now it seemed like schools were being sponsored by Target’s stationery section.
You started with the basics before you could even consider everything else. The sheer number of highlighters was overwhelming - why were there neon, pastels, glitter and gel? They all did the same thing.
Laura was in the middle of picking out a water bottle when you heard your phone ring. You saw it was Logan, and you realised he might be on his lunch hour. “Hi.”
“ Everything okay ?” he asked.
“Yeah, we played a little soccer in the park, had lunch, and now we’re at Target getting some supplies for school.”
“ Fuck I knew I was meant to do something yesterday. Put it on that card .”
“You might regret it. A pack of pens is pushing $6 without tax,” you chuckled. “I think she’s warming up to me.”
“ Good. Listen, I gotta go. See you later .”
“See you later.” You hung up the phone and saw Laura had finally chosen a navy blue metal water bottle. “Like that one?” Laura nodded. “Okay, put it in the cart.”
You dreaded thinking about the total, but it was a relief that it was essential and not something frivolous. Laura seemed happy, and that was worth it. For the first time today, you felt like this was something you could do.
You spent the rest of the afternoon packing her pencil case and backpack, setting up a little study corner for her homework and preparing a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs.
“I might need to get better at my cooking game, but not bad,” you commented as you took a bite of the pasta. “Te gusta?”
“Si,” Laura replied, taking a large mouthful of sauce and smearing it all over her face.
You chuckled, “Good thing you’re having a shower after this.”
Seemed simple enough: food, shower, read, bed.
Wait, did Laura need to be read to? She was old enough to read to herself. Maybe that would be an idea while you cleaned up and checked her before she went to sleep. By the time Laura had finished her shower and put on her pyjamas, it was around 19:15, and bedtime was at 20:00. She brushed her teeth while you dried and brushed her hair and put it into a ponytail.
“Okay, Laura, what are you reading?” you asked, looking at the book on the bedside table. “ Matilda . It’s a good one.”
“She has these powers where she can move things with her mind. She’s like an X-Man.”
“There’s a name I haven’t heard for a while.” You looked at the desk and saw a pile of X-Men comics poking out. “You like the X-Men?” Laura was not paying much attention as she started burying her head in her book. You opened the first page and read the brief introduction to the heroes. However, your eyes focused on a man in a cowl. “I’m going to clean up okay. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” You kept the comic in hand and put it on the coffee table to read later. By the time you had put the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up the sides, it was time for lights out. Laura, however, had drifted off, the book resting against her cheek. Quietly, you took the book, placed the bookmark inside and switched off the lamp.
“Sweet dreams,” you whispered as you pulled up the comforter.
Logan would still be out for three more hours, so you brewed yourself a tea, took a seat on the couch and grabbed the television remote. After 20:00, there was not much on other than some police or hospital dramas, but they filled the silence. However, fatigue engulfed you. The next thing you knew, there was a click of a lock.
You sat up sharply and realised it was Logan.
“Sorry, busy day,” you yawned. You stretched and stood up. “Hungry?”
“I can eat,” Logan replied, exhaustion coating his voice. You weren't surprised after a twelve-hour shift.
You went to the kitchen, loaded a plate of leftover pasta, and put it in the microwave. “Busy?”
“Hmmm,” he answered as he grabbed a glass of water.
“What do you do? I never asked.”
“Just some security. The hours are shit but it puts a roof over our heads.” He sat at the counter and rubbed his eyes. “Getting too old for this.”
“You look in good shape to me,” you commented without thinking. You shook your head. However, Logan had already peeled off his shirt, leaving him in a white vest. Your mouth dried as you took in the lean muscle of his arms, shoulders and chest. His movements seemed strained, and you could see some scar tissue from old injuries. “Need some painkillers?”
“Top cupboard.” You looked up and wondered how you were going to reach it. Before you could dare try to climb onto the counter. Logan stood. “I’ll do it.”
“I guess it makes sense to keep it out of Laura’s sight.”
Logan snorted, grabbed two different packets. One was a very strong painkiller, while the other was something that you did not recognise. He popped two pills from each and swallowed them down, your eyes fixated on the way his Adam’s apple bobbed.
The microwave beeped.
“I should get back home,” you said, getting hold of yourself.
“Wait.” He got out his phone and put on some glasses. Within moments, you got a Venmo notification. “Thanks for today. Um… Tomorrow I have a late shift, and Wednesday I need to leave early.”
“What time tomorrow?”
“18:00. Probably won’t be back until after 01:00, and then I need to leave at 07:00.”
“Okay. I’ll be here at 17:30. Bye, Logan.”
-o-
The last day of Summer vacation came with the most unprecedented heat wave. No matter how much you tried to cool off, nothing seemed to work. It felt worse as you walked the few blocks to Logan’s apartment, praying that they had some sort of air conditioning.
“Hace calor,” Laura commented as you walked through the door. Her hair had been pulled back and she was wearing a simple t-shirt and short pyjama set. You had put on your loosest dress, but it was doing very little to keep you cool. “Lemonade?”
“Thanks,” you said, taking the glass. The ice was already melting by the time it touched your lips. “Shit.” You wiped the bit of lemonade from your collarbone and then looked up to see Logan looking at you. You felt sorry for him since he had to wear a full-on suit in what felt like Death Valley heat. Your eyes widened when you realised something. “Oh, sorry, I did not mean to curse.”
“She’s heard worse. Fuck it, she’s said worse,” Logan replied. You looked at Laura, who did not seem in any way put out. “I made up a small bed on the couch for you to stay the night.”
“Oh… I didn’t bring anything to sleep in,” you confessed. Then again, you remembered the shift pattern and knew you would be back within four hours anyway if you went home.
Logan went into his room and returned with a t-shirt and boxers. “You can throw your dress in the washing machine if you can’t get back to your apartment to change.”
“Thanks.”
“Dinner is on the stove. Thought I would save you the effort of cooking.”
“No creo que sea comestible,” Laura commented under her breath.
Logan ignored the comment and kissed Laura’s head. “Get to bed early, kiddo, you have school tomorrow.”
You gave Logan a small parting smile as he left you and Laura alone together. “Okay, let’s see what your dad has tried to poison us with.” You looked in the pot. It looked like some sort of chilli. You found a teaspoon and tasted the sauce. “Not bad. Bit questionable on a hot day but better than nothing.”
“He does not put enough spice in it,” Laura commented.
“Like it hotter?” Laura nodded, and you found some chilli powder, adding a small spoonful. “Should be picante enough now.” You plated two bowls and joined Laura at the table. “You have everything packed for tomorrow?”
“I think so. I need lunch.”
“I can sort that. What do you want?”
Laura furrowed her brow like you had asked her a complicated maths question, “What do people eat for lunch?”
The question threw you off guard for a moment, “Um… Well… It depends. Some people bring sandwiches, and then some other things like fruit or vegetables. Maybe I can do something like what I made you yesterday?”
“Me gustaría eso.”
You smiled and continued eating your dinner. “Your dad is not that bad a cook.”
“He burnt chicken last week.”
“Easy mistake to make. I made some chai cookies once and nearly burnt the house down. However, we learn our lessons, and I make some damn good cookies.”
“Can you show me?”
“Sure, cariño. Maybe this weekend.”
After dinner, Laura watched some television while you cleaned up and put the leftovers in the fridge for Logan. By 19:00, Laura knew her routine, but before you could tuck her in for the night, you helped her choose an outfit - a simple jeans and a t-shirt.
“Will people like it?” she asked.
“I think it’s appropriate enough for school. You’re in sixth grade - not Mean Girls .” Laura looked at you. “It’s a movie. Might show it to you in a couple of years. So, you’re reading, but lights out at 20:00. I’ll check on you in a bit.”
You yawned as you returned to the living room, found a home renovation show to put on in the background and waited until the first advertisement break to go into Laura’s room to check she was sleeping. She was curled up, the fan blowing and her breathing level.
You spent the rest of the evening taking a cool shower, putting your clothes in the washing machine and flicking through the comic you had left on the table. The names sounded familiar, but you could not quite figure out where you had heard them. However, you kept getting drawn to Wolverine. Something about his aloof and gruff attitude had some cogs turning in your head.
Shaking your head, you decided to leave it and return to your show. It was an hour later when your phone rang; however, rather than Logan, it was your landlord.
“Hey,” you said quietly. “I have the rent money ready-”
“ I wouldn’t worry about it .”
“Why?”
“ The heat caused an electrical fault in your neighbour’s apartment. A fire broke out .”
“Oh my god… Are they okay?”
“ No one has been hurt, thankfully, but the whole place went up, and smoke got into your apartment. Sorry, honey, but the Fire Department has declared it unsafe. Until I can fix it up, I’ll put your rent payments on hold. Insurance should hopefully cover the repairs.”
“Is my stuff okay?”
“ They said there is some smoke damage, but you’ll need to assess what is usable .”
“Okay, I’ll drop by tomorrow.” You hung up and put your face in your hands.
Fucking. Brilliant.
-o-
You barely slept.
Logan came home after 02:00, and you faked your slumber as he quietly moved around the kitchen before going to his room. Within three hours, he was up again, and you decided to stop pretending. Dawn had broken through the window as he prepared a black coffee from the percolator.
“My apartment has smoke damage,” you said before he could open his mouth.
He replied, “You okay?”
“I don’t know. I just…” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. “It’s just another thing I did not need. I don’t have anywhere close to here to stay.”
“You could stay here.”
“Really?”
“You need somewhere to sleep, and it’ll make things easier with Laura. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you won’t even fit and your back-”
“Slept on worse surfaces, darlin’.”
You nodded, “Okay.” Suddenly, the shock and exhaustion overwhelmed you, and tears filled your eyes. “Sorry.”
“Come ‘ere,” he said, and instantly you fell into his strong embrace. Instantly, the smell of sandalwood, tobacco and coffee soothed you. It felt nice. Weird but nice. “Do you need anything?”
“Bit early for whisky.”
He snorted, “I’ll take the day if you need to get things sorted.”
“No. Besides, Laura will be at school most of the day. I’ll stop by the apartment after I drop her off. Maybe the best case scenario is a load of dry cleaning.”
You pulled back and felt your heart skip a beat when you looked into his hazel eyes. He really was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Your eyes drifted to his lips, and for a moment, you thought about leaning in, if only to scratch the itch.
“I should make Laura some breakfast,” you whispered, almost fearful of him letting you go.
“Good idea.” He let go, but you could still feel the imprint of his arms around you. “I’ll get my sheets in the wash and set them up for you.”
You nodded and proceeded to take your mind off everything by starting to prepare some pancakes. It seemed like a nice way to start the school year. However, it seemed to evolve from just the pancakes to added fruit salad and scrambled eggs. At least Logan could take some of the food.
“I think she’ll devour this up in no time. Kid’s like a vacuum,” Logan commented, now dressed in a fresh shirt and trousers.
“Probably going through a growth spurt,” you replied as you handed him a fresh coffee. “Um… do you need me to cover rent or anything while I am here?”
“It's a bit counterproductive that I pay you money just to send it back. Seems like you went through a shit time lately. Call it treating yourself.”
“I think I just attract bad luck.” You sighed, “Maybe this will give me the kick in the ass I need to get this book written.”
“Book?”
“Typical literature grad; always working on the next great American novel. Though I have always wanted to be a writer. I had notebooks of stories I wrote in high school.”
“Can’t use any of them, but you know, make them better?”
“At my parents’ place. I should’ve just taken up a job at a publishing house, or just become a teacher. Instead, I end up with dead-end job after dead-end job - not that this is a dead-end job. I actually like this one.”
“Teaching isn’t so bad.”
“How do you know?”
“I was one. History.”
“And now you work difficult shifts in security?”
“It’s a long story.”
“A lot of long stories.”
“I know.”
You held an awkward silence. You knew that Logan was hiding something about Laura, but the weird choice in career changes seemed questionable as well. Your eyes drifted to a photo on the bookshelf. You never looked close enough at it, but it seemed to be a group gathering. You could see Logan, a little younger and less dishevelled. Most of all, he looked happy, at least from what you could see in his eyes.
“I should get to work,” Logan said, breaking the silence.
“I’ll get Laura up.”
-o-
“How much smoke damage?” Logan asked when you walked through the door with a bag at around 11:00. You were surprised he was home, and even more concerningly, you could see his bleeding knuckles running under the faucet.
“Never mind that, what happened?” you asked.
“Some fuckstick got too clever for his own good. It’s fine. It’ll heal.” You dropped your bag and went to find the First Aid kit—a very full one. “Don’t fuss.”
“Part of the job description,” you replied. “Sit.” Logan followed your order as you took out some iodine and cotton balls. You dabbed the liquid onto the cut, and Logan hissed. “Sorry, I should have warned you that this was going to sting.” However, you saw something on the skin that seemed off. It seemed like the skin was growing back, to the point that the wound looked healed. You looked at Logan, who retracted his hand quickly.
“Told you it would heal,” he grumbled.
“Are you a mutant?” you asked softly.
Logan nodded, “So is Laura.” He rubbed his face. “Believe me, the whole truth is far worse.”
You went to a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whisky. You only poured one glass since you needed a clear head before you collected Laura. “Hit me.”
“Laura’s my daughter, but technically she’s my clone. One of the nurses broke her out of this lab and found me. We went through hell just trying to get away from the people who made her. We lost-” His breath hitched, and he downed his whisky. “Charles.”
“Who’s Charles?”
“He took me in when I had no one. Gave me a home and a family.” He sniffed. “They’re all gone now.”
You looked at the photo on the bookcase and then the comic, “Charles Xavier. You’re Wolverine.” He winced as he popped out three claws. “Wow.”
“You seem a little starstruck there, darlin’.” He retracted the claws and sighed. “If you want to pull out of this deal-”
“Why would I? It’s not fair to Laura.” You rested your hand on his, noticing him wince. “Still in pain?”
“Around the X-Men, I played down my injuries. Tell ‘em I just shrug off the pain once I’m healed, but it’s not quite that easy. I’d feel phantom pains for months. Especially now.”
“Is that why you need the pain killers?”
“The metal on my bones is poisoning me. I have to take painkillers and anti-toxins to keep it at bay since my regenerative healing has slowed.”
“So you take a physically draining job?”
“Gotta feed us somehow. It’s not ideal. To be honest, it makes me miss the limo driving.”
“Your CV is becoming far more eclectic than mine,” you chuckled. “Does that normally happen to mutants? At some point, it just becomes… faulty?”
“Maybe with age, maybe with illness. You heard about the Westchester Incident, right?”
“Vaguely.”
“Chuck had the most advanced mind in the world. However, he got old, and with age comes dementia. Lost control, and one day he had a seizure. Killed everyone in the mansion and within a few-mile radius. Except me. My brain could withstand it to a point.”
“Is that what killed him in the end?”
Logan reached for the bottle again, “Maybe I should be glad that it was quick in the end.” Instead of pouring a glass, he took a swig from the bottle. “While we were trying to get to North Dakota with Laura, we stopped at a farm. Those bastards caught up with us and used a feral clone of me to kill him. Couldn’t even give him a proper burial.” You blinked as you took it all in. You were just getting around the fact that Laura was a clone and Logan was a member of the X-Men. “I started falling apart, but just about managed to survive a fight. Wouldn’t be alive if it were not for Laura. She shot the bastard with an adamantium bullet to the head. Got checked out, and the doc gave me those medications. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I have felt in a long time.”
He was about to take another sip from the bottle when you put your hand around it. “You know, if your healing is slow, maybe take it easy on the hard liquor,” you said as you took the bottle. “Don’t think I need you ending up in the ER with liver damage.” You stood up and put the bottle back. “Listen, go take a shower. I’ll make us all dinner.”
-o-
Laura had been babbling about her day for a solid fifteen minutes. Given how taciturn she could be, you were surprised at how much she was speaking. It felt wonderful to see. School seemed to be the right place for her.
“Sounds like fun,” Logan replied, taking a bite of the chicken cutlet you had prepared.
“Makes me miss school. Felt so easy back then,” you added. You kept glancing at Logan from across the table. He felt more at ease now that he had freshened up and was paying attention to his daughter. You had the sense he wished his time would be spent more doing this than the job he needed to support them. “Do you have much homework?”
“I have math and some English,” Laura answered.
“Okay, well, after I clean up, we’ll have a crack at it together.”
“Not due until Monday.”
“Doesn’t matter. The quicker you start, the more time you will have this weekend to yourself.”
After washing up, you sat with Laura at her desk and frowned. It was meant to be sixth-grade math, but for some reason, it seemed like it was ninth-grade calculus. Math was never your strongest subject, and you only managed to scrape a B through hard graft.
“You don’t know, do you?” Laura asked.
“Honestly, cariño, this is like solving theoretical physics,” you replied. “Math for eleven-year-olds should not be this hard.”
“It’s the methods,” Logan said from the doorway. You looked over and saw he was leaning against the door, just watching you both. “They change it up every so often to fuck with the adults.”
“Do you remember how they taught you to solve the problem?” you asked Laura.
“I think so.”
“Well, you might have to teach me.”
You looked over at Logan and saw him move away. After about half an hour of working with Laura, you said she could watch some television before bed. You and Logan kept glancing at each other, your heart fluttering every time your eyes crossed his.
When Laura went to bed, you changed into some pyjamas and returned to the couch with Logan, who was nursing a beer.
“If you want one, knock yourself out,” he said. You opened the fridge and got one to join him on the couch. “You’re really good with her.”
“Given everything you told me earlier, she needs as much affection as possible.” Logan took a swig of beer. “You’re a good dad.”
“Not that good. Barely spend time with her.”
“You do all you can for her.”
“To be honest, I still sometimes look at her like she’s a stranger. She was just dropped on me, and I was already in over my head without a child.”
“Do you love her?”
“Took some time, but I do.”
“She thinks you hung the moon.”
“She called me a cunt once.” You snorted at the idea of Laura, who was tiny compared to her father, using such a vulgar word against the Wolverine. “First time she ever talked.”
“Takes her time to start trusting people, I guess. Listen, you both had a rough start on your relationship, but you love each other. You just need some time.”
Logan did not say anything, instead leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. The beard tickled your skin, and you gasped. He pulled back an inch, and you both looked at each other for a split second. Suddenly, you pressed a kiss to his lips. However, he did not pull back, instead putting his hand on your waist.
It felt nice. Tender but firm.
However, something nagged at you, and you pulled back, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Logan nodded. “Yeah, bad idea.”
-o-
For two weeks, it had become awkward between you and Logan.
You both went about the same day-to-day routines for the sake of Laura, and it seemed to be paying off; Laura appeared oblivious to the tension. It was not as if you disliked the kiss and that was the problem. You liked it. Really liked it.
Josh’s birthday was coming up, and you had plans to go out for some drinks with him. It was perfect timing as Logan managed to get a few days off work. So one Friday night, Laura was taking advantage of her weekend bedtime of 21:30 and you emerged from the bedroom wearing a black dress with an asymmetrical collar and a hem that rested on your thighs.
“You look bonita,” Laura commented as you closed your clutch.
“Thank you.” You raised your eyes and looked at Logan, who was pouring a bag of popcorn into a bowl. “I’ll be back later. Make sure you go to bed on time.”
“Watching a movie first.”
“Cool. Have fun.”
“Hey,” Logan said, walking up to you and pulling out a $20 bill. “Have a drink on me. You’ve earned it.”
“Thanks. Don’t wait up for me. Might not be back until after midnight.”
About two hours later, you were slightly buzzed on margaritas and dancing to some music from the early 2000s. For the first time in weeks, you felt you could let your hair down and forget about everything.
You were getting another round when some guy started talking to you. He was nice-looking and smart, and your own age. You got into a comfortable conversation, and at the end, he offered you his number. Perhaps out of politeness, you accepted.
“I thought you had a thing for DILFs now,” Josh commented when you returned.
“What?” you asked, a little perplexed.
“Your boss, Logan. About six-two, greying beard, daughter about yay high,” he said, holding his arm to his chest. “Or am I being delusional?”
“Yes, you are,” you answered shortly as you sipped your drink. Josh raised his eyebrow. “Okay. We might have kissed a couple of weeks ago.”
“And…”
“Nothing. We stopped before it got too far.”
“Probably a good idea. Mixing work and sex never ends well, especially since there is a kid involved.”
“Exactly. Laura’s a great kid; she does not need any more confusion. Besides, I just met him.”
“And you moved in with him in what? Two days?”
“Only because my apartment nearly caught fire.”
“So, are you going to get under that guy to get over Logan?”
“I don’t need to get over Logan. We had a foolish moment after a drink.” You cast your eyes down. “That’s all.”
An hour later, you decided to get a cab back to the apartment. It might have been just after midnight, but you were starting to push your limit in terms of how many cocktails you could consume without throwing up. You could see the kitchen light was on, so you kicked off your heels and padded to the kitchen where Logan was sitting and drinking whisky.
“You’re back early,” he commented.
“Tired, need water and sleep,” you replied, going to the cupboard and grabbing a glass.
“Good night?”
“Yeah, it was nice to get out for a bit.” You filled up the glass with some water and took a few chugs. “Got some guy’s number.”
Logan nodded. “You going to call him?”
“Nah. Dating is too much effort. Still flattering though.”
“Don’t act so shocked when you look like that.” You caught his eye. “You’re stunning.”
You felt a heat creep up your cheeks and neck. “I thought we were going to keep things professional.” You downed your water. “I should head to bed.” You walked to the bedroom before stopping. You turned back to Logan, who had been following you with his eyes. Maybe it was the tequila, but against your better judgment, you walked back over to him and said, “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Believe me, I have never been so clear about anything in all my life.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, whisky hitting the skin. You could tell he was trying to fight the urge, but suddenly he pushed the chair back and yanked you to straddle his lap. “Shush.”
“She’s dead to the world,” Logan whispered against your lips. His hands raked over the dress as though he was trying to memorise every curve. After a moment, he pulled back. “This is a bad idea.”
“I know.”
“If we go any further, we’re going to regret it.”
“I know.”
“We should stop.”
“I know.”
You held each other’s gaze for a long time. Logan was not wrong. He was far older, and you could tell he had a past that haunted him. Not to mention, he was technically your boss. Then there was Laura. It was a bad idea. You climbed off him and readjusted your dress.
“Maybe I should stay with Josh for a while,” you said. “I think living here…” You trailed off. You couldn’t do that to Laura. You put your head in your hands. “Fuck this is all messed up.”
Logan stood up and pulled your hands away from your face. “You’re not wrong.”
“You’re right. I’m drunk. But…” You sighed and ended up hitting your head off his firm chest. “I should go to sleep. Might clear my head.”
“Look, Laura has this fall festival thing at the school tomorrow. Maybe a day out where we focus on Laura is what we need to break whatever this is.”
“I’ll sleep on it.” Logan kissed your forehead, and you said, “Night, Logan.”
-o-
“How’s the hangover?” Logan asked as you sluggishly walked beside him and Laura on the way to the school. You tactically kept the little girl between you so that you resisted the temptation to even brush hands with Logan.
“Well, I have not puked so that is something,” you replied. Despite it being a cooler day, the sun was bright, and you had to wear some sunglasses - both to reduce your throbbing headache and hide the bags under your eyes. Laura insisted on wearing hers, which you thought was adorable. “So what can we expect from this festival?”
Laura shrugged. “Never been to one.”
“Think I remember apple bobbing, pumpkins and mazes. Surprised they actually still do these.”
It was going to be easy. Laura would stick around, giving you and Logan a nice distraction from each other. However, as soon as she saw two other girls, she sprinted away to join them.
“Chloe and Natalie,” you explained.
“Yeah, she mentioned them,” Logan replied.
“You know what I could do with: a coffee.” You pointed to a cart that was selling beverages ranging from hot cider to pumpkin-spiked lattes. You ordered yourself one of the latter, earning a very disgruntled look from Logan. “What?”
“I don’t know how you can drink that shit. It’s all sugar.”
“As opposed to black coffee?”
“I don’t drink it for pleasure. It’s purely functional.”
“Well, I drink my coffee for pleasure.”
Admittedly, given your hangover, the sugar was making you a little queasy. Not that you would admit it.
You both kept an eye on Laura and her friends as they walked around the different activities. The air was helping the migraine a tad, and you did find yourself enjoying the atmosphere despite the awkwardness between you and Logan.
“Bounce house,” Laura observed.
“Be careful,” Logan said. Laura nodded and walked over to play on it. “Problem with her being my opposite sex clone. Females have claws in their feet.”
“Wait, so is it a good idea to let her bounce on that thing?”
“She only does it when she gets pissed. Had to stop her attacking one of those animatronic horses once because it stopped.”
“Kids for you.”
“I only found out who she was about two minutes before. Had already been a stressful morning without having to pay for criminal damage.”
“Not sure how much damage she can cause. She’s tiny.”
“She’s like me. Stronger than she looks.”
“So when you say she’s your clone, how was she made?”
“I was experimented on, and they took DNA samples. After I escaped my facility about fifty years ago, someone else took the samples, created embryos and put them into women. I have no idea who her biological mother is. Probably dead knowing the fuckers who made Laura. Give them this, though; they at least didn’t put the metal onto Laura’s whole skeleton. Means she won’t be poisoned.”
You nodded like everything made sense. Then you frowned, “Fifty years ago? You ain’t that old, are you?”
“I’m nearly two hundred.”
“Fuck… That is some age gap.” You cocked a smirk, which Logan mirrored. “Thought a twenty-year gap was bad. Let alone a hundred and seventy.”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of noises and laughter. By the time the sun began to go down, Laura was exhausted. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
“Should sleep through the night,” you commented as you sipped on some herbal tea. Your headache felt better, and you and Logan were sharing the leftover pizza from dinner. “Nice to see her behave like a normal child.”
Logan quietly chewed the pizza slice, only for some of the oil to drip onto his shirt. “Damn it.”
“Take it off and soak it with some dish soap,” you said.
Logan peeled off his shirt, sighing when he saw the oil had dripped into his undershirt. He pulled that off too, revealing his quite toned chest, stomach and arms. The saliva in your mouth felt like it had evaporated as you watched him scrub at the stains. His eyes caught yours, and you both looked at each other.
Your heart pounded. In a bid to stop whatever was pulsing between your legs, you got out of your seat, took the shirts and tossed them into the washing machine.
“You don’t smell of peonies,” he commented.
“What?”
“You usually smell of them.”
“Oh. It might be my perfume. I didn’t put it on this morning. My nose tends to be rather sensitive when I am hungover.” Your hands braced on the counter. “Surprised I did not throw up when we got to the fair.”
Logan touched your cheekbone. “You feel warm.”
“Still September. Might be fall, but tell that to climate change.”
Your heartbeat echoed off your ribcage, and despite the reservations, the dam collapsed, and you leaned up to kiss him. And a split second later, Logan kissed you back.
“I can’t fight it any more,” you whispered.
“Been fighting since you came in that lilac sundress,” he replied against your mouth. His hands found your ass, and he lifted you onto the counter so you were closer to eye level. You moaned - perhaps a little too loudly. “Quiet, don’t wake her up.”
You nodded and kissed him again, deeper this time. Your tongue pushed past his lips as his hand cupped your breast through the vest top you were wearing. Subconsciously, you opened your legs. Logan stood between them, and you wrapped your thighs around his waist, his growing member pressing against your dampening core.
“Seem quite excited,” you chuckled, detaching from his lips for air. Logan pulled off your vest along with your bralette and took a moment to glance over your body. “You okay?”
“Fuck you’re perfect,” he whispered, his lips now brushing your neck. He kissed and nipped the skin as you unbuttoned your jeans. While you were happy for him to dictate the pace, you had a need that if he did not settle now, you would burn yourself alive.
“Touch me, Logan.” You took his hand and placed it inside your jeans and panties.
“Already so wet for me,” he cooed as you bucked slightly against the pressure of his rough thumb on your swelling clit.
“Probably been wet since you took your shirt off.” You noticed how oddly sheepish he seemed at the comment, right up until he slid one finger inside of you. “Don’t be so shy, you’re gorgeous.”
“You’re just trying to flatter me because I have my finger in your pussy.”
“Believe me, Logan. I have been attracted to you since my first day.” He moved slowly, his lips brushing yours as you squeezed your eyes shut. You tried to hold back your moans as Logan crooked his finger. “Yes.”
“That’s it.” A second finger entered you, and your head rolled back, allowing him to nip your neck slightly. “Doing so well.”
“Logan,” you whispered as your stomach started coiling.
Given how you were squeezing around him, you knew your release was on the precipice. His lip attached to your nipple, and sparks shot through you, your head smacking off the back cupboard. You took a few deep pants as you felt him still working you through the release. He slowed down, lips decorating your damp chest. You barely felt the thumping in the back of your head as waves floated around you.
It might have been seconds or hours, but you opened your eyes slowly. Logan kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out. He sucked the juices off his fingers and used his other hand to stroke over your cheek.
“You got a condom?” you asked, your hand teasing the button on his jeans.
“Fuck, no. You on anything?” You shook your head. “Damn it.”
He was hard, and while you wanted to relieve his desire, you couldn't risk getting pregnant.
You hopped off the counter and kissed him slowly, hand slipping under the waistband of his boxers. He hummed slightly against your lips when you gripped the base. Finally, you broke the kiss, lips moving down his neck, chest and stomach, eventually getting onto your knees.
“You don't…” Words failed Logan as you lowered his jeans and boxers. The moment your lips wrapped around the tip, his head rolled back. “Fuck that's good.”
-o-
Breakfast was quiet the next morning.
Laura did not seem to notice something was different about you and Logan as she chewed her cereal. You and Logan, on the other hand, kept making not-too-subtle glances at each other. After your dalliance in the kitchen, you both fell asleep on the same bed, your back pressed against his chest. It was probably the best night's sleep in years for you both.
“You're not eating,” Laura told her father.
“Already ate something this morning,” Logan replied. Your ears began burning. You noticed his smirk and glared at him.
“Come on, let's get you to school,” you said to Laura.
After you returned to the apartment half an hour later, you folded your arms and stared at Logan.
“Not the most appropriate joke in front of the eleven-year-old,” you chastised.
“Eh, she doesn't know what it means,” he replied with a light chuckle as he pulled you closer. “Besides, you were not complaining this morning.” A shudder ran through you as his beard brushed your neck, the ghost of it on your thighs tingling. “Well, we have six or so hours to ourselves.” He licked the spot behind your ear that made you whimper. “And I just ran to the store.”
His hands moved to your ass and grabbed the flesh. Within seconds, you were lifted with your legs around his waist. “Bet you got some odd looks buying condoms at 08:00.”
“Mixed it in with my meds. Barely bated an eye.”
Logan kissed you deeply, strided towards the bedroom, and you both fell onto the bed. Your hands tugged on his t-shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion. Your lips sought him again, your tongues melding as Logan stroked his hands up your sides. You peeled your shirt off and unhooked your bra, tossing it to the floor.
“God…” Logan whispered as he found your lower back and lifted you so you were sitting on his lap. Instinctively, you ground against him as he grasped your breast with his big hand. You whimpered at the touch, especially when he brushed his thumb against your hardening nipple. “You like that?” You nodded before your head rolled back. “Gonna take my time with you.”
You let out a small moan as Logan licked a stripe up your throat, your hands gripping his forearms. He let out a rough chuckle against your skin, his other hand rubbing circles onto your ribcage. You could feel he was getting hard through the barrier of your jeans, but he had little interest in settling his own arousal. His teeth dragged against your pulse point, gently nipping the spot.
“If you’re going to mark me, don’t do it on the neck,” you ordered.
He nodded and cupped the back of your head to gently lift it. You melted into his kiss. It was as though he had centuries of experience - though it probably was true. Given how old he was, he had probably kissed a person from every continent. Probably made love on every continent. Maybe it was why his kisses were so gorgeous, and he knew how to work your body like a finely tuned instrument.
“Anyone ever tell you how soft your skin feels?” he whispered. “And you smell like cherries and vanilla.”
“Well, if you want to know my shower routine, you can join me,” you replied softly as he kissed your sternum. You gasped as he took your other nipple into his mouth. He had barely done anything, and you could feel yourself on the precipice.
“Your tits always been this sensitive?” he asked between nibbles.
“Little bit,” you gasped. “Might just be the right time of the month.”
“Good thing I got the condoms then.”
He laid you back down and started working the button on your jeans. His mouth ghosted your solar plexus, and his hands tugged at your jeans. You lifted your hips to help him pull them off, along with your panties, leaving you bare to his darkening gaze.
His lips trailed down your belly as he shifted the position so he was perched between your thighs. His rough beard tickled the sensitive skin. Everything felt and looked rough: his hands, the scar-coated back, his dry lips as he kissed over the hair covering your mound. Yes, he was absolutely the most handsome man you had the luxury of being in bed with, but there was an honesty his body gave that made him more human.
“You smell delicious,” he growled and pulled you closer to his face. You moaned as you felt him breathe against your soaked cunt. “Still can feel you coming against my tongue.”
His hands gripped your hips, pressing his fingers into the flesh almost bruisingly. You pressed your heels to his back as his nose brushed your clit, your hand finding purchase on the sheets. Instead of his tongue, all you could feel was his hot breath. He looked at you, pupils blown, and you could see a glint of something maniacal behind them. His lips made contact, but instead of your pulsing pussy, he kissed the inside of your thigh.
“You’re killing me here, Logan,” you groaned. Then a tiny yelp escaped your lips when you felt pressure and pain on the flesh. Logan let go, leaving a small indent where his teeth had been.
“You did say no marks on your neck,” he purred. His right hand moved from your hip, his arm hooking around the thigh as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You hissed at the slight sensation. “Still a little sensitive?”
“You made me come twice less than two hours ago.”
He rolled the bud, a shudder pulsing through your spine. Finally, his tongue made contact, circling your entrance in a way that made your eyes flutter shut. The strokes of his tongue felt different to the ones from this morning. He had licked you more lazily, the dregs of sleep still overtaking you both. Now he seemed more alert and attuned to your reactions.
Logan reached for the pillow beside you and said, “Lift your hips.” With the new angle, he put more pressure on your entrance with his tongue, narrowing slightly to penetrate. “You’re so sweet.”
You didn’t say a word. You couldn’t. Every exploratory lick and flick was causing a brain cell to zap. He settled into a rhythm between using the flat of his tongue to soak your lips with his saliva and the tip to prod your entrance. He was holding to his promise to take his time with you, as any moment that you felt a sensation build, he brought it back down again. Every brush of his beard on your thighs, every stroke of his tongue and every moan and grumble from his throat were sending you on a cloud you never wanted to come down from.
You flinched when he hit a nook you did not know about, a stunned moan falling from your lips. You felt him smirk against you, and he flicked the nook again. “Oh, you like that don’t you?” His arms tightened around your hips, and he pulled away. “Gonna flip us over.”
Your brain was practically mush, so his plan barely registered until you felt him roll onto his back. His hands braced on your ass, squeezing the flesh as you lowered yourself back down onto his mouth. This time, he rolled your clit with his tongue. You found purchase on the headboard and rocked your hips slightly. While your experience of face-sitting was few and far between, you liked the control it gave you. You would have been happy to let Logan dictate the pace. However, your pelvis, belly and spine were burning, and if you did not come soon, you were going to pass out.
Logan’s hand slipped behind you and began pressing against your entrance as he sucked harder on your clit. A finger slipped inside, and you whimpered when he found the right spot that shot lightning to your clit. A second finger followed swiftly, and your body buckled. Your hand gripped his hair, pushing him further towards your mound as he sucked and licked your swollen bundle of nerves. Your thighs contracted around his head, the tension in your spine becoming unbearable.
“You’re close,” he purred.
He moved his mouth lower, tongue pointed, and he found the nook from earlier. With just the right pressure, you shattered with a silent cry, white coating your eyes and your head rolled back.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he whispered between kitten licks. You kept rocking your hips slightly as each pulse flowed out your nerve endings.
After it seemed like it was over, Logan laid you flat on your back. He watched as you took heavy breaths, finger caressing your sweat-soaked skin. He brushed over your nipple and leaned down to kiss you, his beard damp with your come. You felt your walls clench around nothing.
After a moment, Logan pulled back and unbuttoned his jeans. Within half a second, he was as gloriously naked as you were, his cock hard and yearning. You wanted it in your mouth again.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked, his hand stroking over your sensitive mound. His finger pressed inside you, stroking your walls. You gasped at the slight pressure on your clit. “You wanna go on top? Be more comfortable for you.”
“Yes,” you hissed as he inserted another finger inside. You knew he was doing it to stretch you out before you sit on his heavy cock, his fingers separating slightly.
With you warmed up, he pulled his fingers out and put them to your lips. You sucked on them, making a moan that made him twitch even harder.
He grabbed a box from the bedside table, pulled out a wrapped condom.
“Can I?” you asked. He handed the condom to you. You unwrapped it, grabbed the base of his pulsing cock and rolled it down until he was fully covered.
You kissed him deeply as he rolled onto his back, your thighs bracketing his hips. Your heart pounded as you gripped his length, placing the tip against your entrance. You rocked a little, yearning a clenched groan from Logan.
“Ready?” you asked. Logan nodded and you began to slide down the shaft. “Oh my god.”
It burned slightly as he filled you. You sat on his lap, him fully inside you but didn't move.
“You okay, am I hurting you?” Logan asked, cupping your face.
“Just a bit bigger than I usually have.” Eventually the pinching eased. “It's fine.”
Slowly, you raised your hips and pushed down again. You both gasped at the new sensation and you settled into a rhythm. His hands rested on your hips, not instructing but caressing.
“That’s it, riding me good,” he groaned.
You grinned down at him and quickened your pace slightly, rolling your hips in a way that caused your swollen clit to brush up against his coarse, dark hair. “God, you feel so good inside me.”
You felt your walls flutter around him, his grip tightening on your hips. You could see his muscles clench slightly and his eyes closed as he surrendered to the euphoria. He bucked his hips to meet your bounces, and you let out a sharp gasp. The tip brushed up to hit the right spot inside you, sending pulses through your spine.
“Touch me,” you whispered as you rode him faster and harder, the bed creaking slightly with each motion.
Logan reached his left hand between you and rolled your clit in gentle circles. Your eyes clenched shut as the burning feeling built in your belly.
“Come on, darlin’, come all over my cock,” he ordered in a low purr.
The tension in your spine snapped, and you collapsed onto him, his release being signalled by the groan in your ear.
His fingers moved up your spine as you silently basked in the afterglow. Your head perched on his shoulder, and you looked at each other with hooded eyes. He kissed your forehead as he rolled you to the side. You moaned a little as he pulled out and got off the bed.
“Where are you going?” you asked.
“Get this in the trash and get a rag for you,” he replied softly. You nodded. He was back within a minute with a cool cloth. When you were cleaned up, he pulled the sheets back and let you rest your head on his chest. Your finger traced the crevices of his abdomen. “Been a while since I’ve done that.”
“Really?” you asked.
“Not a lot of time for one-night stands when you’re working your ass off and trying to keep a person hidden and safe.”
“Could have fooled me.” You smiled softly and kissed his collarbone. “What are we going to do now?”
“Round two?” You poked his chest. “Ow, what was that for?”
“You know what I mean. Laura is going to find out eventually. She’s too clever.”
“I know. It’s still new, this whole thing with her. I don’t want to make it more disruptive than it already is.” He put his large hand over yours. “Maybe we can take it slow. Could probably take you on a few dates. See whether we work.”
“We definitely work in this room,” you giggled and leaned up to kiss him. “Okay. One step at a time.”
-o-
“So you're going out to dinner together?” Laura asked a week later when you were putting on some mascara.
“Logan wants to thank me for all the work I have been doing with you since I started being your nanny,” you answered.
“Is it a date?”
You knew Laura was too clever. You hated lying to her, but you also hated the idea of getting her hopes up and destroying them if something were to go wrong.
“No. Just business.” Granted, your outfit wasn't very business-like. It was a long-sleeve pink dress that rested on your thighs and left your back exposed.
The neighbour arrived to look after Laura for a couple of hours while you went to a nearby Irish bar. Logan got a whisky while you ordered a red wine, and you shared a plate of chicken tenders and fries.
“Thought that without the kid we would be able to eat proper food,” Logan commented.
“To be fair, she eats better than you do,” you replied.
“I'm on the go all the time.”
“Doesn't mean that you should be eating burgers all the time.”
“How…”
“I can taste it on your breath when we make out, along with those cigarettes.”
Logan sipped his drink, “Okay, you caught me. Should probably stop if my metabolism is slowing. Won't be able to maintain this shape forever.”
“Maybe we could start running together if there are days you and I overlap.”
“Thought we were using that time for sex.”
“Running can be an aphrodisiac.”
Logan leaned closer and cupped your face. “You always make a good argument.”
He kissed you sweetly. When he pulled back, you felt your stomach twist. In the last couple of weeks, you noticed his eyes become brighter and softer, like for the first time in a long time, he could allow himself to be happy. Despite the small complication of telling Laura, this felt easy. He kissed you again, deeper this time. You rested your hand on his shoulder as his thumb stroked the inside of your thigh.
“I went to the doctor today,” you said when you broke apart for air.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just asked to go back on the pill.”
Logan pulled back, “You serious?”
“I was thinking that we've had sex every day this week, and the condoms are fine, but we can't afford an accident if one breaks.”
Logan nodded, “Makes sense.”
“Do you want more kids?”
“I don’t know. I missed out on so much of Laura’s early life that some part of me does want to be there for a new baby. The more logical part of my head knows I am too old for that.”
“Not necessarily.”
“What about you? Do you want kids?”
“I don’t know. Suppose I have always seen this book as my baby. Right here, right now. No.” You gulped. “Is that a problem?”
“God no. I ain’t expecting anything from you.” He kissed your forehead. “Is there anything else you want to do tonight?”
“How good are you at bowling?”
“Really?”
“It’ll be fun.”
Despite you both being equally rubbish at bowling, given that the balls landed in the gutter more times than you hit the pins, you both enjoyed your time together. You flirted, giggled and let him kiss you at least six times between throws.
“I think I can call that a decisive victory,” you said, giggling as Logan lifted you slightly.
“Only because I let you win.”
“Sure you did.”
When you got home, you thanked the neighbour for babysitting, checked in on a sleeping Laura before heading to the bathroom. You switched on the shower before walking towards Logan, who was sitting on the couch with another whisky.
“Come on,” you said, taking his hand and leading him into the steaming room with a wry smile. “You said you wanted to see my shower routine.”
-o-
A hacking cough woke you up, and you turned to see Logan coughing into a handkerchief, and to your horror, the bile he brought up was black and red. And there was a lot of it. And he was struggling to breathe.
“Shit, Logan, we need to get you to the hospital,” you said, climbing out of bed. However, it seemed the volume of the cough alerted Laura.
She stood in the doorway, confusion coating her face. You could not quite work out if she was confused at the fact her father was coughing up black blood and was finding it difficult to breathe, or the fact that he was shirtless in the bed you had been sleeping in for the past two months. And you were draped only in Logan's old t-shirt and a pair of underwear.
You barely had a thought to explain, more focused on getting Logan into the emergency room. It felt like the longest seven minutes of your life before the paramedics arrived. You quickly pulled on some jeans and grabbed Laura’s denim jacket for her. It was 04:00, and it did not seem fair to ask your neighbour to watch her at short notice.
At the nearest ER, Logan was taken into a private room while you and Laura sat in the waiting room. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact with you, and you could not blame her.
“He’s going to be okay,” you said, admittedly more to yourself.
Laura remained silent.
After an hour, one of the doctors came out and sat in front of you both. “He's going to be okay. Sometimes this type of metal poisoning can be unpredictable. He'll need a higher dose of anti-toxins and bed rest for a couple of weeks. We'll keep him in for a few days in the ICU just to make sure the anti-toxins are working.”
“Thank you,” you said, putting your head in your hands. You wanted to cry, but you were so exhausted, your eyes refused to let any water drop from them. “I should let your school know you're not coming in today.”
“¿Por qué estaban los dos en la misma cama?”
You felt any sense of colour drain from your face, “Lo siento.”
“¡Lo siento no es suficiente! Me mentiste.”
You got out of the chair and crouched down to her level, “I know. Escúchame, your dad didn't want to disrupt your life more than it has already been. We needed to know if this was something we wanted, not just a frivolous fling. He was trying to do what he thought was best.”
“¿Así que nunca me lo ibas a decir?”
“We would have. It's still new between us. I didn’t intend for this to happen, Laura. However, your dad and I… We formed a connection. I get why you're angry, and I didn’t want you to find out like this.” Tears started pricking at Laura's eyes. You could still see anger inside them, but she did something you didn't expect. She launched herself and hugged you tightly. You hugged her just as tightly. “It's okay, cariño.”
A sickness built in your belly, and you had a horrible feeling it was going to get worse
-o-
Logan was quite sedated so after seeing him in the ICU for an hour, you took Laura home. She still wasn't the most talkative, but you didn't push her.
The next morning, she went to school as normal, having promised her that you would bring her to see Logan after school. You went to the hospital straight after dropping her off. He was sitting up in the bed, canula still in his nose and a blood bag attached to his IV. The vital monitors showed a stable cardiac rhythm. He looked pale but better than he had been the previous morning.
“Hey,” you whispered as you sat on the edge of the bed. Your hand rested on his, and you stroked your thumb over the rough skin. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” he grumbled. “Pain meds are keeping me comfortable, though. Gave me the good stuff.”
You laughed softly, “Maybe you’ll actually slow down now.”
“I’ll have to drop this job. Not what I wanted, but staying alive for Laura is more important.” Your lips thinned. “She figured it out?”
“Yep. She’s pissed, mainly at me.”
He took a deep exhalation, “She’ll come round.” You leaned in to kiss him, just a soft one on the lips. “I missed you last night. Both of you.”
“Well, the doctor just spoke to me. If you respond well, you could be out on Monday. I would take the peace and quiet while you can. In the meantime, I guess I can get back to job hunting.”
“You still have a job technically.”
“Logan, I think we both know that’s out of the window. Probably has been since the fire.”
“Probably has been since you walked through the door the first time.” You kissed him again, slower this time and cupped his face. Suddenly, you felt tears prick at your eyes, and some dropped onto Logan’s cheek. “What’s wrong?” He cupped your face, “Is it Laura?”
You sniffed, “Maybe. As much as I want to be with you, Logan, we need to put her first. Maybe we should just cool this off. I’ll take the sofa in the meantime.”
“Is that what you really want?”
“No, but want and need are not the same thing.” You stroked your thumb over his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
You could see his jaw tighten, but he rested his hand on yours, “Don’t be. You’re right.”
-o-
By Monday, Logan was discharged from the hospital with a higher dose of anti-toxins and painkillers and an order for bed rest for the next two weeks. Laura was thrilled to have him home, often spending time watching television in the evenings while you cooked and cleaned.
It seemed like things had gone back to normal, but you were miserable. You were finding strange excuses to be out of the apartment, just anything to avoid being completely alone with Logan. There were moments that you and he would lock eyes, and your heart would squeeze tightly.
Laura began speaking to you again, which was the only shining light. Sometimes, she would pick up on the tension between you and Logan and try to distract you. She took the news of your breakup quite well, maybe because you weren’t lying to her anymore. It was as if it never happened.
Except it did.
And as fleeting as it was, you had not been happier in years.
“That soccer practice must’ve exhausted her,” Logan commented when he came into the kitchen where you were making tea. Yours was a camomile while Logan had this anti-metal toxins tea (which was probably some marketing bullshit, but it was drinkable).
“Think she’s trying to become the next Sam Kerr,” you replied.
“Who?”
“Sam Kerr, Australian, played for Chelsea in England and is considered one of the best strikers in the world. Never heard of her?”
“I barely pay attention to sports as it is.”
“Not even ice hockey?”
“That’s just a Canadian stereotype.” You snorted and handed him the tea. “I might have found something work-wise.”
“Let me guess, something reckless like a cage fighter?”
“I was one once.”
“Of course you were.”
“I have a litany of weird jobs. Think I was in the army for about a hundred years.”
“What, so you retired from one war and then joined another right away?”
“Can’t remember to be honest. Everything before the 1980s is a blur still.”
“I wasn’t even born then.”
“When were you?”
“September 2001.”
“Wait… What day?”
“I didn’t want to make a massive deal over turning twenty-eight. Not like it’s something significant anyway.” Logan put his cup down and cupped your cheek. He pressed his lips to the other, and you shuddered. “Logan…”
“It’s just a gift,” he whispered, his lips inches from yours.
“I know.” You took a deep breath. “Listen. My landlord called this afternoon. The smoke damage has been fixed, and I can move back in tomorrow.”
“Is that what you want?”
“What did I say about want and need? I think we need to get back to the professional boundaries. I’ll look after Laura during the day and then go home.”
Logan nodded. “It’s better, I guess. Gives us a clean break.”
His lips were still millimetres from yours, and you could not take it anymore.
You kissed him, your arms pulling him closer as he settled into the kiss. When you pulled apart, you both looked at each other with heavy breaths. Your hand moved to clutch his, and you took it to lead him to the bedroom. He sat down first, with you sitting on his lap. He stroked his fingers over any piece of exposed skin on your arms and collarbone.
“You okay to do this?” you asked, conscious of how unwell he had been.
“I’ll go slow.”
You pulled your t-shirt off. You had already changed into pyjamas, so your breasts were exposed instantly. Logan’s hand moved down to one breast, but instead of going straight for the hardening nipple, he stroked the mound like he was trying to memorise it. He leaned down and took the nipple into his lips, sucking gently. You gasped slightly, and you reached down to pull off his vest. He had dropped some muscle from the bed rest, the lines on his biceps and chest not being so defined. It took nothing away from him.
Your lips met again, and carefully, he rolled you both over so you were on your back. Quietly, he pulled down your sweatpants along with your underwear. His gaze was fixed intently on you as his hand traced a path over your ribs and belly. He leaned over you and kissed your neck. You held back your noises in fear of waking Laura up as Logan made a slow path down your chest and over your stomach. Each brush of his beard set goosebumps on your skin, especially when he reached the apex of your thighs.
His tongue dipped into your entrance. It seemed like hours he was down there, trying to commit the taste, sight, smell, sound and texture of you to memory. If it was going to be the last time you two made love, he was going to make sure it was worth it. You had no doubts as two or maybe three orgasms tore through you from his mouth.
Logan kissed up your sweat-coated body until he met your lips. His tongue stroked over yours as you pressed your fingers over each scar and crevice on his back. Logan pulled away from your lips and removed his sweat pants and boxers, allowing the tip of his cock to brush up against your soaked cunt.
“You still on the pill?” he whispered. You nodded. You reached down and gripped his length to guide it to your entrance. Logan pressed his hips forward, allowing you to take him in inch by inch.
You hitched your legs up as he slowly began to thrust into you. Quiet moans and whispers echoed through the room, lips crashed together, and hands caressed skin. Logan went gently with his movements. It was not about chasing orgasms. It was about proving the connection only you two could create.
“Logan,” you breathed, your hand reaching for his cheek.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hazel eyes locked onto yours.
You fought back the tears. Logan was close, judging by his ragged breath. Your hand reached between you and rolled your clit, making your eyes flutter shut. A whine left your lips as the orgasm reached the precipice.
“I love you,” you gasped as you shook violently, Logan following you over the edge.
Your foreheads pressed together as your bodies reacclimatised to the surroundings. He kissed you again before rolling to the side. He stroked his hand over your arm as you looked at each other, holding your gaze on his damp skin.
“Hold me,” you said. Logan nodded and allowed you to get under the covers, his chest pressed against your back. His arm draped around your waist as your hands laced together.
You didn’t talk. You didn’t need to. You basked in the quiet of the night in each other’s arms until dawn forced you from the cocoon.
-o-
Your apartment never felt so empty.
Having been in the company of two other people for the last couple of months, you missed the sound of the morning chaos. You just had dinner conversations while Logan finished off his workday. He had found something in a local high school. They needed a history teacher as soon as possible, and he had the credentials. While you wondered if working with teenagers was a smart idea given his health, he seemed happier.
“I’m good with teenagers. Don’t take their shit, but I ain’t going to torture them,” he said over dinner one night.
However, with the hours more consistent for Logan, your hours had dropped dramatically. There were some nights where Logan needed to do some meetings, but other than that, most of your day consisted of picking up Laura from school or soccer practice, feeding her and then leaving before she went to bed. You and Logan spent a lot of the little time you spent together tiptoeing around each other.
It was around late October when your mother paid a visit, bearing a gift of a box of old stuff.
“I was clearing out the attic and thought you might want some of this,” she said. You looked inside. There were some old school books from when you were in first grade, your baby book and then something else. You opened up an old notebook and started reading through it. It was a novel you started writing in the tenth grade that you finished. “I did read that by the way.” You cringed a little. The grammar was abysmal, and you felt the voice was too immature. “I think you had something there.”
“It’s hardly Margaret Atwood, Mom.”
“And who says it needs to be? I just think you have been torturing yourself to write this new novel that you don’t really care about, rather than something I know you put your heart and soul into. Besides, it’s a first draft. You have a chance to edit it to how you like it.” You put the notebook down and walked towards the coffee machine. “So, how is this job going?”
“Fine,” you answered, a little shorter than you intended.
“Oh…”
You sighed, “I messed up, Mom.” You sniffed and leaned against the counter. “I know I shouldn’t have gotten involved with Logan, but something drew us together…” At that point, tears burst from your eyes.
Your mother moved closer to you and pulled you in for a hug. “Hey, honey. Come on.”
“I don’t know what to do, Mom. I love him, but we hurt Laura…”
“Look, if you need to quit this job, your dad and I can lend you some money until you find something else. Or you can move back for a while.”
You shook your head, “I can cope.”
“Honey, I can see you’re struggling, and I don’t want you to become unwell because of it.”
“I know… Look, I’ll focus on writing this book to distract myself. It might be the kick in the ass I need.”
“Language.” You chuckled, remembering Laura had said far worse. “Well, you know where we are if you need us.”
After some coffee, your mother left, and you looked back over the novel. You read it carefully, and when you looked past the glaring issues, you found the story cohesive and entertaining. You grabbed a set of coloured pens and a sticky note, created a colour code and then began annotating.
-o-
It was a Wednesday afternoon when you went to pick Laura up from soccer practice. The chill filled the air as October shifted towards November, and you tugged your jacket around you as you approached the small field at the back of the elementary school.
You could usually see Laura running around the field, but you could not spot her at all. Logan would have told you if she was skipping practice. You kept scouring, but still no sign.
“Hey,” you said to the assistant coach, “where’s Laura?”
“She said she was not feeling well,” she answered. “Think she went home.”
You blinked. Laura could not have just walked home on her own. She knew to wait for you. You ran as fast as you could to Logan’s apartment. The door was still locked, and inside, Laura was nowhere to be found.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you yelled and dialled Logan’s number. He picked up on the third ring. “Laura’s gone AWOL. I’ve been to the school and checked the apartment. She’s not there.”
“ Fuck, right, I’m leaving work now. You stay at the apartment in case she comes back.” You nodded and hung up.
You tried not to panic and go through every possible place Laura could be. You doubted she would have walked to Logan’s workplace. The only other place that you could think of was the park where you first played soccer. While Logan had asked you to stay at the apartment, you thought it was worth a shot.
You ran to the park, looking around the play area and the soccer field. You were about to give up when you saw a little brown-haired spec on a bench. You took a deep breath and walked over to her.
“Hey, there you are,” you said, sitting down beside her. “I have been looking for you everywhere.” Laura remained silent. Quickly, you messaged Logan to let him know you found her. “We’re not mad at you, Laura, we were just scared.” She looked at you, and you brushed the tear falling on her cheek. “Why did you run off?”
“You and Dad are unhappy,” she answered. “It’s because of me.”
“No, cariño, it isn’t because of you. We just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be together.”
“Why?” You hesitated. “Fue por mi culpa, ¿no?”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Your dad and I… We wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt again. Relationships are complicated, and there was no guarantee we would have worked out.”
“But you were happy.”
“Yeah, we were, but we wanted to put you first.”
“Fucking hell, kid, are you trying to kill me?” Logan shouted from about ten metres away. He stopped in front of you and bent down to Laura’s level. “Don’t do that again.”
“Pensé que habías dicho que no estaba enojado,” Laura said to you.
“I’m not mad,” Logan replied, his tone softer this time. “What’s going on?”
“It’s us,” you answered. “She thinks that she’s made us miserable.”
“How?”
“Because you broke up because of me,” Laura added.
“I just said we were putting her first,” you continued. “We shouldn’t have hidden it from you. I just needed to work out what I felt.”
“And?”
“Amo tanto a tu papá que me está matando.”
“Dad…”
“My Spanish isn’t great, but I guess she said she loves me.” Laura nodded. “I love her too, kiddo. So much that it kills me that I am sharing the same air as her.”
Laura looked between you both and then took your hands. Instead of holding them, she put yours and Logan’s together. You and Logan looked at each other for one heartbeat, and then he kissed you deeply. Relief and warmth spread across your chest as he pulled you closer.
“You ain’t going to be doing that all the time, are you?” Laura asked, breaking you apart.
“All the damn time now,” Logan replied before kissing you again. “If that’s what you want.”
You smiled brightly, “More than anything.”
-o-
One year later
“Still waiting to hear from that agent?” Logan asked as he found you sitting in front of your laptop and tapping your fingers.
“Yeah. I thought the meeting went well, and she seemed really interested in representing me,” you replied.
“It’s a tough market at the moment. Seems like more publishers want vampires again in the young adult sections. Or at least that's what it felt like when I took Laura to Barnes and Noble last week.”
“Publishing is a long process. What’s popular today won’t necessarily be popular in a year.”
“Right, well, I am pulling you away from there.” He closed the lid on your laptop and took your hand. “Come on. You promised Laura we would watch this movie.”
“Yeah, you’re right. This can wait.”
Laura was already sitting on the sofa, popcorn at the ready. You and Logan sat on the other cushion, your body pressed to his solid frame. His arm wrapped around your waist, and he kissed your head.
“You two are disgusting,” Laura commented, taking a bite of popcorn. You knew she was only half serious. She was in her pre-teen ‘adults are so cringey’ phase. However, she liked seeing how happy you both were.
Just as the movie started, you heard the notification ping from your laptop.
“Sorry, might be that agent,” you said, getting up. You opened the laptop back up and flicked through the email you received. “Oh…”
“Is that a good oh or a bad oh?” Logan asked, standing up to look. After a moment, you broke out into a smile, and Logan kissed you sweetly. “Well done.”
“Thank you,” you whispered before returning the kiss.
A cushion hit your arm, and you looked up to see Laura glaring at you. You tossed it back playfully. As you both sat on the sofa again, you finally felt an overwhelming sense of peace, as though for once you had everything you could have asked for.
The End
The "Deadpool saving the MCU" discourse in the lead up to Deadpool And Wolverine turns out to be pretty ironic considering the plot of the movie is Deadpool saving the Marvel Foxverse (and its legacy, from post-"Logan"/post-Disney buyout erasure and irrelevance).
Happy 10th anniversary, Deadpool!
Deadpool was released 10 years ago today!
Thanks for leaking that test footage, Rya-uh, random person on the internet.
Don’t forget who today is really about.
(Commissioned) Lorna Dane/Polaris, specifically from the series The Gifted. i know her powers don't look like that in the show but i don't know how to translate 2000s screensaver graphics through the medium of acrylic paints so i made thorns and brambles n stuff instead
24 Years of Romance Both Sweet & Spicy from the Last 24 Years in the Marvel Multiverse
*Ran out of tags otherwise I add a few more








