I like to imagine he’s lecturing you in this picture. Did you do something stupid?? Pull a bad move at training? Hurt yourself during a mission? Maybe he’s explaining why certain whiskeys are better than others. Possibly a cigar he prefers??? All I know is that he 110% said “Now darlin’” at some point.
You rendezvous with Logan after Christmas at the X Mansion to cuddle and talk about the day's events
Word Count: 940
Warnings: Fluff, Smooches
Your bare feet treaded lightly as you descended the stairs, your hands running over the lengthy garland that was wrapped around the railing. Soft yellow lights lit your path like pixies twinkling in the night.
During the daylight hours, the halls were bustling with excited students playing with their toys. The very air buzzed with energy as swarms of little faces passed you.
Those faces… Those smiles… They had become home.
It wasn’t just the familiarity of your surroundings- knowing each room and how to get there. It was the fact that these walls protected the ones you’d come to love. Made them comfortable. Provided security for them. Helped to create a space for them to reach for their full potential.
The evening hours were a stark contrast to the holiday excitement. Quiet. Tranquil.
Most everyone that dwelled and learned there were fast asleep- tired out from the day’s activities, and yet, hopeful and anticipating what the next day would bring.
It was in that quiet time that you had the house to yourself in a way. Of course, there were times when you’d encounter another soul who couldn’t sleep or was simply enjoying the peace just as you were. With the traumas and tragic histories that those who attended the academy tended to have, it wasn’t unheard of. But it seemed tonight, everyone under that roof found themselves enjoying peaceful slumber.
You paused at the bottom of the stairs once you’d made your descent, peering around.
Well, almost everyone. There was one you expected to be awake yet.
You reached one of the common rooms, feeling your heart skip a beat when you saw him sprawled out rather comfortably on the couch as he waited for your approach, his head resting on a throw pillow as he gazed at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.
Logan’s exceptional hearing alerted him of your presence and he turned, eyebrows raised, to greet you.
“Hi,” you whispered, crossing the room as quickly as you could without your footsteps making noise. He lifted his arms invitingly, allowing you to drape yourself against his side on the couch.
“Hey,” he murmured against your hair. “What took you so long?”
“It was five minutes,” you countered playfully.
“Yeah, well, it felt like five years.” His arms encircled you, giving you a squeeze that pressed you tighter against him. You shut your eyes and drank in the steady thump-thump of Logan’s heart and the way his chest rose and fell with each deep, tired breath he took. That and his scent- a sort of teakwood mingled with notes of a warm musk- was a deadly combination that might have you falling asleep within the next ten or so minutes. Especially after the busy last few days you’d had.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, noticing how quiet you were.
“Do you think the kids had a good Christmas?” you asked. So much had gone into preparation. You’d been so busy with wrapping gifts, making preparations for the holiday meals, and organizing activities for the students that the quiet was almost unsettling. While you’d been so thrilled with your work, your mind now seemed keen on reflecting on your efforts and nitpicking every little detail that you previously hadn’t had an opportunity to address.
“You kiddin’ me?” Logan asked in disbelief. “Everyone had a blast. Students and staff included.”
“Really?” You shifted to glance up at him. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tilted his head down.
“Yeah. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Nothing major. I just noticed some of the gift wrapping wasn’t the best. The potatoes at dinner were kind of dry…” You counted the items on your fingers as you listed them aloud. Logan took hold of your hand before you could count any more, entwining his fingers with yours.
“Woah, woah, there.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring in that low voice of his, “I must’ve seen hundreds of smiles today. Too many to count. You were a big part of making that happen.”
Your heart fluttered, and he continued.
“Now, some of these things you’re talking about, I don’t think that’s the case. At least, I didn’t notice. The potatoes were good. All the gifts were wrapped with care. Not to mention shredded open before anyone could hold them under a magnifying glass and check.”
That made you chuckle, and Logan moved to kiss your cheek. “You’re right.” Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of the doubts that had attempted to plague you in the aftermath of your victory. “Thank you, Logan.”
He gazed down at you again, his dark eyes set aglow by the soft lights. “You did good. Let yourself enjoy it.”
You leaned up to press your lips against his, and Logan in turn cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss. What tension had begun to set in your muscles melted away, and you relaxed fully in his arms. Letting your head rest against his flannel shirt, you huffed in amusement.
“I’m in danger now,” you whispered.
“Hm?”
“With nothing to worry about, I am inclined to fall asleep.”
“Then sleep.” His hand began to rub up and down your back soothingly, tempting you further. “Winter break is still on tomorrow.”
Classes wouldn’t start up again until after New Year’s day, so you’d have time to recuperate.
You sighed deeply at the realization, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Alright, then. I’m convinced.” Craning your neck to sneak in one last kiss on his lips, you whispered, “merry Christmas.”
There was definitely a smile in his voice when he murmured back, “merry Christmas.”
The one where once it becomes clear that Logan is your alpha, he’s the one left pining.
Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, smut, dirty talk, possessiveness, brief masturbation (f,m), use of the word whore in bed, reference to using the person for personal pleasure
Word count: 3.3k
A/N: thank you to my love @navybrat817 for looking this over for me. This is one of my favorite things I’ve ever written and it’s entirely self-indulgent.
Logan’s P.O.V.
“Hey, princess. You ready to train?” Her eyes caught mine when she turned around from the conversation she was having with Scott before I entered the gym, throwing me one of those smiles that were probably one of the only things in this entire world that could make me feel warm inside.
I’d been weary and mistrusting from the start, not used to dealing with any kind of softness directed towards me, but if there was one thing to learn about the woman in front of me, was that she never gave up.
It was just the way she was, always excited and sweet to anyone and everyone, like sleep and slumber didn’t even affect her when I woke up most mornings wanting to kill the world and she was standing in the kitchen, patiently preparing a pot of coffee to make my life easier.
And she never even expected a thank you or a recognition of any kind. She just smiled, sometimes winked, and got on with her day, instead of orbiting around me like most omegas tended to do when they first arrived at the academy.
That was enough to make me fascinated with her.
“Of course I’m ready! I was born ready!” A deep rumble of laughter filled my chest as I shook my head at her shenanigans. Maybe I should have been used to it by now, it’s been almost a month since she arrived, but it was becoming more and more obvious that I probably never would.
She just had that effect on me - an effect that was so strange and unusual that initially had made me angry, but now only served as a reminder that maybe good things could happen in my life. Especially since someone so nice thought I deserved it.
She followed me to one of the corners of the gym, talking and waving at everyone we encountered while I remained unbothered by their presence, until we were finally sort of alone in our little bubble and could stretch in peace.
“So… How did you sleep?” She was always making those kinds of questions, at first I thought it was an annoying way to break the silence, until I realized that she actually cared. And then, I couldn’t really find it in myself to be irritated by her inquiries anymore.
“I was a bit restless. I think my rut is coming,” I admitted, following her lead and stretching one of my legs despite never having actually done this before she asked me to train her. She just had this way of changing all of my little habits, I supposed.
“I figured.” At my raised eyebrow, she just shrugged, before continuing, “I heard you pacing. I thought about checking in on you, but I figured maybe it had already started…” and it wouldn’t be a good thing to get stuck in a bedroom with an Alpha during a rut. She didn’t have to finish, it was easily understandable.
“Shit, now I feel guilty for waking you up with my loud steps.” She shook her head enthusiastically at that, wanting to make it obvious that wasn’t the case at all. It helped with the guilt, but only to a certain degree.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
“I was agitated myself. It had nothing to do with you, I don’t think I would have even noticed it if I hadn’t already been up.” He narrowed his eyes at my explanation, clearly confused and still not fully convinced that he hadn’t been responsible for keeping me up all night, so I decided to get out with it. “I think my heat is coming, too.”
At that, his eyebrows stop up, understanding written all over his face. But then, as quickly as it came, it was gone again, replaced by that seemingly permanent frown that seemed to be synonymous with the wolverine.
“That’s gonna be your first one, isn’t it? Ever since you got here, I mean.”
I nodded, exchanging legs while thinking about what else I could say. Obviously, society had evolved a long way since something as natural as heats and ruts were taboo, but especially between an unmated Alpha and an unmated Omega, it could be weird to talk about it.
It was a fine line between commenting on your instinctive problems and propositioning a beneficial arrangement to get us through the difficulties of the time. I didn’t want there to be any mistake about what was happening - there was no way I’d become just another Omega in a long list of remedies to get through a rut that Logan would simply use when in need.
I’d heard the stories. As amazing as he seemed to be in a time of desperate measures, I really couldn’t do that to myself. I wouldn’t.
“Yes, it will be,” I confirmed, hopefully giving a finality to my tone that didn’t allow further questioning. “Are you ready to beat my ass?” I joked, suddenly springing up and reaching out for his hand so I could help him do the same, even though I knew he didn’t need it. Still, he stretched his arm in the direction of mine, making me smile as I realized just how far we were from when we first met.
The second our skin came in contact, we both gasped and dropped our hands. It was like an electric current had run through the both of us, but where it came from, I didn’t know. Although an immediate possibility popped into my head, I didn’t want to consider it just yet.
“Sorry,” I sheepishly smiled, reaching out for him again. This time, I was prepared for when our limbs touched, so maybe that’s why I didn’t feel the shock. There was, however, a numbing feeling that lasted a few seconds, so it was easy to ignore. “Let’s just get this started, huh?”
Logan’s P.O.V.
The next 24 hours were pure torture, and an absolute mystery to me. I had no experience with feeling this way, how my hand kept reaching out to touch her, like I needed to verify that she was really there, feel her warmth beneath my fingertips.
Even weirder, she started to disappear for long stretches of time. Where usually she’d be right there, by my side, whenever possible, ever since she arrived, now I had to actively look for her so I could find her. And when I did, she was always wearing a frown on her face, like I’d somehow ruined her solo hide-and-seek plans.
The next day, I sought her in her room, knowing her heat was getting closer and I needed to confirm some activities Charles had asked the both of us to organize, but the second I opened the door, being greeted by the smell of her sweet wetness calling out to me, I completely lost the control of my body.
“What are you doing…” That was all she managed to get out before I was kissing her, my hands cradling her face as our lips moved in sync, her small hands circling my wrists like she intended to push me away, but forgot about it.
She tasted like apple pie and cider, something that reminded me of cold fall days when I could stay inside a warm cabin and not worry about anything. It felt like home, she felt like home, and soon enough, my hands were roaming her body, underneath the skirt of her dress, wherever I could touch her.
“You’re… You’re wet,” I noted after we parted, only abandoning her lips because I needed to catch a breath. And even though she was having just as much of a hard time getting air back into her lungs, she still managed to look pissed when she responded.
“Of course I am, genius.” I couldn’t really understand it. Why was she so mad at me? Why had there been this buzzing, this electric current running through my body for the last few days, that seemed to intensify whenever I was near her?
And then it hit me, right when she started to touch herself to release some of the tension that was obviously running through her body. “We’re true mates.” She rolled her eyes at me, taking a step back and pulling her dress off of her body, and my mouth instantly watered. When she took off her underwear and laid down on the bed, spreading her legs for my view, my knees buckled. I simply stood there, looking transfixed as she started to fuck herself right before my eyes.
“Took you long enough.” Her words broke me out of my reverie, even though they fell from her lips sounding more like a moan. Frowning, I couldn’t understand what she meant, until once again, it became clear to me.
“You knew it!” She rolled her eyes at my shock, but maybe it was because she had hit her sweet spot, as she continued to thrust her fingers in and out of her increasingly wet pussy. I couldn’t tell.
The sounds of her juices only made me feel even hotter, giving me a growing sensation of dizziness. My own arousal was starting to take over, my member hardening inside my pants as I struggled to concentrate on this very important topic.
“Of course I knew, Logan.” She finally stopped playing with herself, suddenly sitting up and although panting, her eyes shot daggers at me. It ignited my own irritation, making me look back at her with just as much fire.
“You knew and… You didn’t want me?” Regret and anxiety replaced the angry look on her face, and she turned her head to avoid sustaining my gaze as I struggled to get rid of my shirt, desperate to deal with the increasing heat inside my body.
“It’s not that easy.” I had to scoff at that.
“Oh, it isn’t? Then what is it, Y/N? What is so bad about me?” Her eyes met mine again, defiant, prideful. Even as irritation and insecurity threatened to get the best of me, I had to admire her beauty.
“I can’t do this, Logan,” she at last confessed, getting out of the bed while shaking her head. She turned her back to me, her arms crossed in front of her naked body. “I can’t let myself get close to you. You shouldn’t want me either. You don’t, actually. It’s just your genetics, telling you that you do.”
It took me a while to process what she said, initially because of how badly my cock was throbbing, but once I stuffed my hand inside my pants and squeezed my rapidly growing knot, I was finally able to focus on her words.
And it. Made. Me. Furious.
My hand over her nape, I pulled her so her body was glued to me, making sure she felt my exposed cock right against her lower back.
“There’s no way you’re that dumb, little girl.” It was the wrong thing to say - it wasn’t even true in the slightest, and despite being lost to the fires of rage and desire I could see how spilling that was stupid of me, but I was too far gone to care.
“Excuse me?” She roared, turning around to face me with fire in her eyes, making me grow exasperated.
“Oh, you know what I mean!” But she was on a roll now, a tiny finger poking my chest. She was so small by comparison, I could barely feel it, and it made my lips twitch up in amusement.
“You’re not the right Alpha for me, Logan.” The words provoked an instinctive growl to rise from the depths of my chest. Closing the distance between us, I forced her to turn around once more, holding her jaw as delicately as I could muster considering the anger inside of me to make her listen very carefully.
“But I’m your Alpha, so watch your fucking mouth.” The omega inside of her whimpered, no doubt impressed with the show of possessiveness and strength, and I had to feel smug about it. But once I let her go, the confession she revealed wiped that smugness right off my face.
“You don’t want puppies, Logan. You don’t want the same things I do. We can never work.” I felt like she had slapped me. I stared at the small creature who had so easily infiltrated my life, not quite believing what she’d told me.
“Is that what you think of me?” I questioned, and try as I might, I knew the hurt in my tone was perceptible. “You just assume it’s not something I want, yet you never even cared to ask. If it’s with you, of course I do.”
She was rendered speechless, if only for a moment. I relished that moment. It wasn’t always that I got to see that spitfire of a woman silent, with her mouth hanging open. Which is why the second I saw the frown reappear on her face, her mouth closing before opening again, I ordered, “Just… shut up,” and entwined our bodies together, connecting our lips for another breathtaking kiss.
“You want this,” I panted against her mouth when I was forced to pull back to catch my breath, fingers making quick work on the remainder of my clothes. “You need this.”
She huffed in my arms, making me think she wanted me to put some space between us. Much to my surprise, her arms ended up wrapped around my shoulders, all of her weight trying to bring me down to meet her lips once more.
“Shut up and fuck me, Logan.” A growl escaped my chest at the order, for once not feeling attacked by someone else’s attempt to control me, but actually instigated. The time it took me to respond to it, the little minx was able to detach herself from my body and lie on her bed once more, her hands immediately going back to what they were doing before.
“Keep those hands away from your pussy,” I commanded, climbing into bed with her and replacing her fingers with mine, toying with her little clit. “Only I get to touch it now.”
Her hips instinctively jerked up, searching for more of my calloused digits, making me groan as they slipped further down and found her dripping hole. She was so fucking wet.
“Soaked little pussy…” I muttered as I tapped it once then twice before pushing myself away just enough to wrap my wet hand around my member, bringing it to her opening and pushing in.
I hissed as I filled her inch by inch, her head falling back as she held tightly to my shoulders, trying to remain silent and unmoving as she adjusted to my thickness. “Better be prepared, omega,” I warned as I bottomed out, looking down at her daringly. “I’m the only one who’s gonna make you feel good from now on… What do you think of that?”
My hips started moving at an immediately punishing pace that I wasn’t able to control. A part of me really did want to punish her in some way, for keeping herself away, for not warning me about our connection before, but I was also taken by my own rut now.
Thankfully, the heat had prepared her enough so it didn’t hurt. I didn’t feel bad about asking, “Doesn’t this feel good?” as I pounded her viciously, determined to get her to cum once, twice, a thousand times for me.
“Y-yeah,” she managed to admit, looking more and more fucked out and out of it by the second. “Fuck, you’re so big.” I chuckled as I leaned over her to rub my jaw against her scent gland, wanting to drown her in my own essence. The fact that we were mates probably helped, she was literally made for me. And fuck, she was so wet.
Her juices seeped between our connected bodies, drenching the sheets underneath us in her smell. I couldn’t wait to bury myself in them later.
“You thought you could keep me away…” I murmured, eyes fixated on her face, completely immersed in her and our coupling, taking in her expression of bliss, her little moans and whimpers. “Next time you try to keep me away from this pussy, I’m gonna spank the shit out of your ass.”
The answering gasp she released as she came right before my eyes had me growling, incredibly surprised by this turn of events. “Oh, you want rough? Little princess likes it rough?”
I bent her body almost in half, putting her ankles over my shoulders as I rose up to my knees to fuck her harder. “Scream,” I ordered, holding the sides of her neck without really squeezing them, only to catch her attention. “I want them to know who’s fucking you this good. I want everyone to know that this is where you belong now, underneath me, getting impaled by my dick, creaming all over it.”
She clawed at my back as a scream did tear through her chest, her heat now fully ingrained, her first orgasm becoming a second, much more powerful one. “You thought you could run away from this,” I panted, the hurt of the situation still too recent for me to let go off. “You thought you could run from me, but you’re mine.”
Her whine of pleasure fed my hunger, and I fucked her even harder, desperate to find my own release now. “You’re mine. My personal whore. You’ll let me use you every night, won’t you?”
Her third orgasm brought on mine, a roar escaping me as I threw my head back and allowed myself to lose control if only for a second, if only to empty myself inside of her until she was filled with me.
But I didn’t claim her. I couldn’t. Not yet, not without her proper consent. I didn’t want her to resent me forever. If we were gonna do this - and God, did I want her to want me to do this - I’d need her to say it.
We laid there a while, catching our breaths, enjoying this little reprieve before both of our systems were begging us to give in to one another once more. I nuzzled her neck again, deciding it was time to let her know, “I want you to be my mate.”
I knew she technically knew this - my actions were pretty telling - but I wanted her to hear it from my lips. It was a show of vulnerability I wasn’t comfortable making, but I knew it was necessary, and I could only hope she would recognize how hard it was for me to do it and appreciate it.
“I want you to be my mate, so I can do this every night.” She looked alarmed, tense even, but I still had so much to say. “I’ll learn how to be romantic, I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”
She closed her mouth then, eyes finally softening as I felt her muscles relax underneath my fingertips. “You know I’ll take care of you.” I couldn’t help but smile when she immediately nodded, not for a second doubting my statement. “I’ll do anything for you.”
I felt her body completely melt against me and the bed, and I finally allowed myself to sigh, admitting the last words I’d been keeping in ever since it became clear that she was my mate.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? Now that you’re here, I don’t want to be without you ever again.” What I got as a response was a short but sweet kiss.
“I’m sorry,” she quietly begged, eyelashes filled with unshed tears as she struggled to hold my gaze and my heart felt heavy. “I’m happy to be yours.” And for the first time in a long while I fell asleep with a smile on myself, feeling better than I’d ever felt before.
Want to see what their next day was like? Click here to read a drabble about their morning after!
Summary: Logan does nothing but antagonize you. You’re convinced that he hates you with every single replicating cell in his body, but you’re not as intuitive as you think. Maybe there’s something more to Logan’s unrelenting anger.
Warning: Profanity
“I’m telling you. He’s always rude to everyone.”
“I’ve seen him talk to everyone else, including all of the students. The only person he has never talked to is me.” Your friend Jean opens her mouth to continue her argument. “Jean,” you interrupt. “I know he’s rude, but you have to admit he’s way ruder to me than he is to anyone else here.”
Jean sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just nervous around you so he doesn’t know how to talk to you.”
You roll your eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense, Jean. He’s Wolverine. Why would he be afraid of me?”
“I didn’t say he was afraid of you. I said he was nervous around you. There’s a difference.”
Teaching at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was not easy. Every child who came in was unsure and afraid of themselves. Rarely a student had control of their gifts, but most of the time the children were scared and dangerous to both themselves and the people around them. That’s why you came to the school. The discovery of your powers was a dark time in your life and you didn’t want anyone else to suffer as much as you did. Being the newest teacher at the school was rough in the beginning. The other teachers were close and an outsider like you only made things awkward. But slowly you became a part of their inside jokes.
Still, after almost a year of working at the school there was one man you’d never had a conversation with. Logan Howlett. You understood that he didn’t talk much to anyone period, you can’t help but be jealous of all the short conversations the other teachers have with him. Anytime you attempted to start a conversation he would turn away or answer with single words.
“Seriously don’t think too much about it. He’s like that with everyone. We’ve just been around for longer so he has to talk to us every once and a while,” Jean tries again, seeing the frustration in your eyes.
You shrug your shoulders. “I just want him to like me.”
Jean reaches over and gently squeezes your shoulder. “If you wait long enough he’ll have to warm up to you eventually. Don’t try too hard.”
Your friend stands up from the table where the remaining scraps of your lunch sit. She walks out of the small kitchen area leaving you alone to think over the conversation. You don’t have another class for an hour so you have plenty of time to sit and stew. Your train of thought it interrupted when the man causing you so much irritation walks through the door. The two of you pointedly ignore each other, but you can feel the awkwardness constricting your chest. You don’t move from your seat and Logan leave the room quickly. The door closed behind him and you release the air that’s been trapped in your lungs. A part of you wanted to force Logan to talk to you, to annoy him so badly that he was forced to at least acknowledge your presence, but another part of you knew that Jean was right. If you were patient enough you would find your place just like all the other teachers. You just had to be patient.
A week passes without any interaction between you and Logan. The two of you pass each other, but you avoid eye contact at all costs. And then one morning you wake up a bit braver. While you’re brushing your teeth, you make the vow to engage Logan in a conversation. The waiting game was a great strategy, but maybe it was time to start pushing. You sit at the small table inside the teacher’s private room. An empty protein bar wrapper lies on the table in front of you and a half full glass of water is hanging in the air in front of you. Jean occupies the seat directly across from you. She shuffles through a stack of papers from the day before. The room is silent aside from the sound of the paper rubbing against each other and the hum of the refrigerator.
The door behind you opens and closes quietly. You don’t move your attention from the blank table in front of you, assuming that if someone wanted to say hi they would simply say it. The greeting that you expect never comes. Jean looks up from her work. Her eyes dart to meet with yours and she jerks her head slightly. You know exactly who is now standing at the refridgerator, but you look anyways. Logan stands with his back to the two of you. When you turn back to look at Jean she’s still staring at you. She narrows her eyes and pointedly shakes her head in Logan’s direction once again. The only response you give her is a subtle shake of your head, but she’s insistent.
You lean back in your chair and let your gaze wander around the room. Jean was right. If you couldn’t even say good morning to the man, how were you going to start a conversation.
“Good morning, Logan.” You finally manage to get out.
The man turns quickly, slamming the refridgerator door and leaving the room with nothing in his hands. The door shuts definitively behind him leaving you alone with Jean again. You throw your arms up in defeat.
“He won’t even say good morning to me, Jean. That’s like the minimum amount of interaction you could have with someone.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. Logan is a…” She waves her hands in the air looking for the right words. “complex man. Who knows what his reasons are.”
You pull the glass of water from the air and stand to put it in the sink. “I’ll see you later, Jean,” you say with a sigh.
For the rest of the day you wonder why Logan hates you so much. You don’t remember any interactions you’ve had with the man and you’ve been nothing but nice. Briefly you humor the possibility that Logan has some sort of school boy crush on you.
It’s not for another month that the tension between you and Logan reaches its peak. Logan roughly bumps his shoulder against yours when you were walking in between classes, causing you to whirl around and stomp angrily.
“Why do you keep doing this?” you yell after him.
He ignores your challenge, but you lunge after him and wrap a hand around his bicep. You stop him in his tracks, but he only yanks his arm out of your grasp.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to stop. Stop being an asshole for one minute and maybe actually talk to me instead of ignoring me and being needlessly aggressive.” Students linger in the doorways, watching one of their teachers yell at the most intimidating man on campus.
“How ‘bout you quit trying to start a conversation? Solve the whole problem.”
You glance quickly at the assembling mass of students. You push against Logan’s shoulder and force him into an empty classroom. You make sure that the door is closed fully behind you.
“What’s the deal? I know you’ve got something against me, and I want to know what it is?” You cross your arms across your chest and plant your feet into the ground. As intimidating as Logan was, you had reached your breaking point.
“I don’t like you. Thought I was clear about that.”
You narrow your eyes at the mutant. There was something else going on. It just didn’t make sense for Logan to hate you so quickly and so thoroughly.
“It’s not that simple. Why do you not like me? I haven’t done shit to you. We’ve never had a conversation, there’s no way you can hate me so much.”
A vein on Logan’s forehead jumps out and the muscles of his jaws stand out. “I don’t need a reason. You just annoy me.”
He tries to brush past you and escape the confrontation, but you side step back in front of him and flatten your hands against his chest. Before you can shove him back he grabs both of your wrists and holds you tightly.
“Get out of my way,” he growls, leaning down so that he’s inches away from your face.
“Not until you tell me why you hate me so much, Logan Howlett.”
The two of you stand in the locked embrace for several seconds before Logan finally releases your wrists with a sharp push.
“You wanna know so fucking badly? Fine! You drive me fucking insane and I don’t know why. I can’t hate you even though I want to so fucking badly.” He steps closer to you and grabs you roughly by the shoulders. “I can’t get close to you, because everything I care about is destroyed.”
You wanted these confessions so much in the beginning, but the sudden gravity of the conversation bothers you. You were expecting something simple, not something this…emotional.
“So, you’re just protecting me?” you ask with furrowed brows.
Logan lets go of your shoulder and stands back.
“That’s so…dumb,” you say after a minute to gather your thoughts. “I don’t need to be protected from whatever bad karma you’re convinced you have. Plus, I can defend myself just as well as you could and I don’t even put myself in dangerous situations. So how about from now on you treat me like normal. And maybe next time I say good morning to you, you actually tell me good morning back.”
You don’t give Logan any time to respond. You speed out of the classroom and make your way to the class that you were already five minutes late to. You don’t know how Logan will respond to your speech, but something was going to change. Your students watch you closely when you walk into the classroom and their curiosity is palpable. As much as you hate to disappoint them, this situation is one that will stay between you and Logan. Hopefully in the future there wouldn’t be a need for awkward conversations. Maybe you and Logan would even be friendly. You could dream.
Original Request: Hello! can i request something with logan x reader? you think he hates you because he's mean to you but at the end he's in love with you and just trying to protect you? can it be angsty/fluffy?
You can't help but notice Logan is always looking out for you, and you wonder if it's because he thinks you're incapable. Little did you know there's another reason entirely.
Word Count: 2,236
Warnings: Typical X-Men Violence, Blood
Link to Part 1
Hands gripping the back of the jet seats, you exhaled loudly in a near grunt.
This was always the worst part. Waiting. Just standing there and waiting for something terrible to happen so that you could do something about it.
It’s not like you weren’t trained in combat. You could handle yourself, at least. But the fact of the matter was that your particular abilities weren’t geared for offensive attacks like the rest. As Professor Xavier told you, you gave the team quite the strategic advantage when utilized at the right moment.
In other words, it would be no good to the others if you were the one who was injured.
Fair enough.
But the waiting…
When the static came through in your earpiece, you straightened up. Hopefully, it would be news of a successful mission and that the team was on their way back to the ship.
You weren’t so lucky this time.
“I’ve been injured,” Storm’s voice spoke weakly.
“Storm, are you alright?” you asked. No response.
The realization tore through you like a jolt of lightning. “I’m on my way.” Heart pounding, you exited the jet and checked that the coast was clear. When you reached the site, it took you a moment to evaluate the situation. Fists were locked in combat. It was mutant powers galore. Metal frames were flying. You jumped when someone let a construction crane drop, causing the ground beneath you to quake.
A glimpse of white caught your attention. You backtracked in your initial scan of the scene to see Storm lying beside a chunk of busted concrete. Her head was angled awkwardly with her face turned away from you.
Your muscles coiled as you prepared to dart into the fray of things.
Scott’s voice suddenly came through. “You need to wait.” He was in the midst of the fight, gloved fingers resting on the side of his visor, ready to activate it. “Things are too chaotic at the moment. You’re at risk.”
“It looks bad,” you replied immediately. “I need to help her now.” You sprung into action, dodging a worn, yellow hunk of what looked to be plating from another construction vehicle that was launched at you. There was no time to trace the path of that shattered piece and see where it came from.
But what you did happen to see in your race to Storm’s aid was a tall form standing slightly hunched in an attack stance, muscular arms tensed, with metallic claws out and glinting in the construction lights. Logan’s dark eyes were glaring furiously past you at presumably whoever had chucked that object in your direction, the bridge of his nose crinkling in a snarl. His chest rose and fell heavily with a growl.
It was a sight that lasted only a mere second as you ran past. Storm had your full attention as you knelt down beside her unconscious form. You removed your gloves and carefully turned her head to face you, revealing a gash of glistening red.
“Storm?” you murmured. No response.
You gently rested a hand on either side of her head, closing your eyes and concentrating on your abilities. A familiar ache started in the tips of your fingers and moved up your arms. Then came a splitting headache.
Oh, her injuries were bad.
The pain in your head made you groan aloud, but it was beyond worth it to see the gash had disappeared from hers, leaving only a streak of blood behind in her halo white hair. There was no way of knowing exactly when the symptoms would fade. In the meantime, you were a sitting duck in the middle of the battlefield with your limbs weak and head in agony.
A gloved hand grasped your arm comfortingly, and you opened your eyes once more to see Storm with concern in her deep gaze. She helped you to your feet, her eyes flickering to the nearest safe place for you to hang tight while you recovered. You stumbled over to the edge of the site, hand grasping desperately at a metal frame to hold onto.
Logan was engaged in heated hand-to-hand with another opponent. Everything around him appeared a mere blur in your eyes, with the heavy duty lights casting a dusty haze over the site-turned-battlefield. Other figures of your teammates moved, but all you saw was Logan taking another swipe at his foe.
You must have not been in your right mind due to the recovery because all you could think about was him. Your eyes traveled the length of his strong arms instead of scanning for any encroaching danger to your hiding spot. It took you back to one of your last missions, when he put his arm around you, forcing you to the ground with him, to ensure you avoided a blast heading your way.
The sound of his close breathing. The rise and fall of his chest against your back. The immediate question spoken in a deep, gentle voice, “you okay?” right next to your ear. Not to mention the effortless way he set you back on your feet.
You steadied yourself, relieved that you were gaining your bearings. It was much easier to focus on the here and now with your mind cleared of the reverie. The enemy was in retreat, and the battle turned into a scramble to snatch up just one of them so they could be interrogated for information on their leader’s HQ.
There was one dragging himself along the ground, bleeding heavily from his left leg.
It was hard not to pity him, especially when you saw one of his teammates just up and leave him without remorse. He was coughing and sputtering, spraying the ground with blood droplets.
“He’s too wounded to speak now,” Jean announced, kneeling beside him. “He needs immediate care.”
“Let me,” you breathed, doing your very best to walk over without a stumble.
Logan immediately stepped in front of you, his large hand coming up to take hold of your outstretched one before it could make contact, resting his other hand on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you. It didn’t take much. You were still rather weak.
“Absolutely not.”
As much as your body wanted to cave to his touch, your mind addled from pain, you were determined as ever. And his tone left much to be desired.
“Oh, excuse me, Dad,” you snipped, meeting his gaze to show you were still no less serious. “This is why I’m here.”
“You’re here to help the X-Men,” he pointed out, staring deeply into your eyes insistently.
“I am helping the X-Men…by helping him. We won’t get anywhere with leads if he succumbs to his wounds on the way back.”
“This is the guy who just tried to off you about ten minutes ago.”
When you weren’t deterred by his addition, Logan scoffed, his hand remaining on your shoulder. Storm stepped in to offer up a less antagonistic word of caution to you.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “You still appear drained.”
Your tone matched hers, losing its edge because of her more amiable demeanor as opposed to the grouchy Wolverine’s. “Yes, I’m fine. I am back to normal already. Let me do this for the team. Please, I can’t stand watching him suffer anymore.”
All eyes were on Logan.
He released you, holding his hands up in a begrudging surrender to your wishes. You weren’t back to normal. Not really. Everyone knew it. Of course you still felt like you’d been hit by a garbage truck when you let your hand fall to the man’s neck to make contact. The ache in your limbs turned to fire, and your head was pounding again.
Ugh, it sucked. 0/10, not a good time.
You stumbled back, falling right down on your bottom in the dirt, and clutched your head.
At some point, you must’ve blacked out because you awoke aboard the X-Jet, strapped into your seat. All was quiet, save for the hum as it travelled at high speeds. Through the haze of waking from a short rest, the events already felt distant, like a dream. Unreal.
The lingering effects of your abilities had ceased, fortunately. Each breath you took was free from the splitting pain.
“Oh, look who’s up,” Logan grumbled.
“What happened?”
If looks could kill. “What do you think?”
“Okay, okay. Too much at once. I’ll try to avoid that next time,” you said, heaving a sigh. Trying to act nonchalant, you stretched a bit in your seat. “Are we almost back to the Mansion?”
“We’ve just arrived,” Cyclops replied, flipping a few switches that presumably activated the landing sequence. “When we get in, you’re going straight to the medical wing.”
“Yes, Sir.” You gave a little salute.
Logan practically escorted you the entire way, and for good measure he waited around while you got checked out. Fortunately, everything seemed to be fine at that point. As soon as you were deemed fit to leave the medical wing, Logan visibly relaxed.
It hadn’t escaped you that he only got that way when it came to your safety. Generally, he was a rather easy-going guy. Ask anyone on the team, and they’d agree that he wasn’t one to get involved in anyone’s business or make demands. He was very much a live and let live man when it came to others… Except when someone was at risk. And as of late, it seemed you were the focal point of his concerns in particular.
Naturally, you explored a series of reasons why that could be. One idea that stood out to you especially was that perhaps Wolverine’s incessant need to defend you on the battlefield stemmed from the way your abilities worked. Perhaps this made you seem quite vulnerable to him as someone fighting alongside a team of very powerful individuals that utilized their abilities during combat, rather than in the aftermath.
It hardly seemed fair. Your abilities may differ from the others, but you were quite capable of looking after yourself when it came to a fight. You knew your limits. You trained well with the rest of the team. His level of concern just didn’t seem to add up. It was a bit insulting.
“I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant a babysitter,” you commented finally as the two of you departed from the medical wing. You walked side-by-side at a rather hurried pace. “I have only ever done my part. And I’ve done it well, if I do say so myself.”
“A little too well,” he grumbled, glancing in the other direction.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m confused. Do you, or do you not, think I can handle myself on missions?”
“I know you can handle missions,” he snapped, then took a breath and lowered his voice, finally halting to turn and meet your gaze sincerely. “I know that. That’s not the issue here.”
You realized that you must have subconsciously taken a step closer because suddenly you were captivated by his dark eyes and trying very hard not to let your gaze flicker to his lips. “Then why do you act like I can’t?”
“Can’t you just accept that I care about ya’?”
That and the fact that he was now inches away from your face was enough to short-circuit your brain. You were frozen in place, unable to form a coherent thought other than how you were lost in space, and the only thing grounding you was the texture of his hair, the way his brows furrowed beautifully over his eyes, and his lips which were still parted after his confession.
“Hey, I- oh.” Scott had just turned the corner and found you, clearing his throat. “I was just on my way to check on you.”
Logan looked the other way, and you took a few steps to put some distance between the two of you.
“I’m alright. I was cleared to head out,” you told him.
“Good. I’m glad.” He gave a slow nod. “I hate to do this, but our lead says he won’t talk unless you’re there. It seems he trusts you after you helped him. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind…”
“No, I don’t mind,” you replied, though the prospect of being present for the questioning was puzzling. Was it truly just a matter of trust? Or did the lead have something more sinister in mind? Security levels made the situation beyond safe. You knew that. But still, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness that suddenly gripped you.
Glancing back at Logan, you said softly, “this discussion will have to wait.”
“I guess so,” he agreed. As you started to follow Scott down the hall, Logan called your name. You looked over your shoulder to see him giving you a knowing look, as if he had read your mind. “Mind if I come along?”
You nodded. “Sure. Scott?”
“We could use you if there’s a need for a “bad 'cop' during the interview,” Scott added. “It would probably be best if you’re there. Just in case.”
You breathed a quiet sigh of relief that only you and apparently Logan heard. He walked by your side, though neither of you uttered a word about it. Ten minutes ago you might’ve rolled your eyes at the idea of him accompanying you to this interview… But now, you were beyond glad he was.
The one where Logan is a mobster and you need to be reminded that you belong to him.
Warnings: smut, noncon, gun play, crying during sex. Don’t read it if it’s not your thing, I don’t have any kinks over people complaining about their own choices.
Word count: 1k>
A/N: I thought about the great Wolverine as a mobster and now I can’t get the idea out of my mind. I need to thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for giving this a read and helping me perfect it, and also for granting me the Triple Hoe Stamp of aproval!
Logan’s P.O.V.
“Logan, c’mon,” she insisted, eyes pleading as she did her best to convince me of the impossible while I remained patiently seated in my usual chair, nursing my scotch. “You know it’s for the best. You know this is the best option. For the both of us.”
If I was someone else - a different man, perhaps - I would have probably laughed at the underlying innocence behind her statement - the childishness of her entire being at that moment, really. It was almost sweet, the way she truly believed it was for the best if we went our separate ways. Her ability to ignore everything she already knew about me - when she knew more than most - never ceased to amaze me. Yet right then, it only made me furious.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” She questioned, sounding almost irritated when I got up from the chair and turned my back to her, refreshing my drink instead of behaving the way she wanted me to. It made me smirk, and that’s what she saw when I turned around to stare at her again, raising my glass to my lips as I ran my eyes over her body.
Just looking at her made me hard as a rock, even after everything I’d done to her little cunt. It was ridiculous that she could believe I would ever simply let her go. And the fact that she got mad at my lack of fight for her made it pretty obvious that some part of her recognized her place was with me, despite the doubts that led her here that evening.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked, watching the defensive stance leave her immediately, the cold tone in my voice betraying my mood. “You know how I feel about this, I know what you think. Let’s negotiate.”
I closed the distance between us with purpose, taking sick pleasure in watching her shiver under my gaze, tremble at how small she looked before me when I curled my hand over her nape.
“Let me give you a reason to stay.” It was barely even a whisper, breathed out against her face as she felt the cold metal of my trusted gun brush against her thigh. “Remember this?” I knew she’d take it as a taunt or a threat, maybe it was both. All I knew was that the last time I’d spread her open around the barrel of my pistol, she screamed louder than I’d ever heard her scream, and I wanted her to make my ears ring.
At the intrusion of the device between her legs, she jolted - an automatic reflex that I never thought to erase because it amused me too much. “There, there…” I meanly chuckled, tapping the back of her head as I pulled her to rest her temple on my shoulder. “You know better than to fight this.”
And so she stood perfectly still, hands clutching my shirt, muscles paralyzed as I slowly coated the metal with her wetness. I knew it was there. I knew her far too much by now, and it was precisely because of it that I was so unwilling to let her go.
Rubbing the gun against her drenched lower lips, I toyed with her expectations until she couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re a sick bastard,” she spewed, and I could see the hate in her eyes, just as much as I could see the desire.
“And that’s what makes you cream around my dick, my love,” I reminded. The second that the barrel penetrated her, it was like her entire body was electrified, jerking to stand on her tiptoes before she was finally able to relax around it. “You know you love it,” I taunted, tempting her to voice her disagreement, resist my advances. “You know you love me, love this.”
Tears rose up in her eyes, much to my delight. I loved when I could bring her here, the edge between physical pleasure and emotional pain - the same she inflicted in me every time she tried to leave.
Our lives were too entwined now, she knew this. It was nothing but a play she liked to reenact every time the reality of my life scared her, but she knew - I’d never let her go. She would never be able to get rid of me, so it was stupid to even try.
“You can’t just distract me with sex!” She screamed when her first orgasm reached her, and I cooed at the tears that rolled down her cheeks, kissing them away while I kept up the pace, making sure to bruise her cervix, ruin her sweet spot.
I wanted to keep her crying for days.
“It worked on you before.” The memory made her pout, head petulantly turning away from me as if that was the only way she could show me her rebellion. It was truly adorable. “Don’t you remember? The way you screamed when I fucked you until you passed out, the first time you decided to leave?”
Forcing her to look at me again, I continued, baring my heart to her once more - only to her, forevermore. “I was certain that it would be the only time. You’re a smart kid, you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Yet here you are…”
I smothered her second orgasm with a kiss, a short one, just enough to make her lose her breath, just enough to taste her tears on my lips. “I-I’m not some… thing you can just marry and keep impregnating for the rest of your life. That’s not what I want for me. I don’t want my kids growing up in a life like this.”
The thought of any alternate reality where her kids wouldn’t be mine sparked the anger already burning and completely blinded me. My palm covered half her face when I grabbed it, making her lips pucker as I buried my digits in the soft flesh of her cheeks.
“I want you to understand this very clearly,” I warned. “No one else is going to touch you. Ever. This pussy, your soul is mine. And I pity the sorry bastard who even tries to take it from me.”
She writhed in my arms, trying to get away while simultaneously fucking herself against the gun I held inside of her, but I remained unaffected by it all. “I’m never going to wake up without you beside me. Got it?” My answer was a scream, the juices of her release coating my wrist before dripping onto the floor.
I silenced her again with another kiss, this time to the top of her head, at last pulling the pistol from her. “I may be a patient man when it comes to you… but just the thought of anyone else ever parting your thighs will make me forget any morals you’ve taught me. Don’t you forget that.”
And as I watched her struggle to leave my office with trembling legs, her wetness running down her legs, I couldn’t help but tease, “You’re so silly for thinking I would ever live without this.”
fic compilation - logan howlett (wolverine) x reader
Alright, y’all. I’m doing this for my own organization but I thought it would come in handy for you too. If you have a specific kink or character you’d like to see me compile a list of every fic I can find about them, please let me know and I’ll eventually get around to it. For now, here are some fics featuring Logan Howlett, the Wolverine, x reader, which I’ll keep updating whenever possible.
LAST UPDATED: 25.01.2021
He’s hot and nice and my son set us up, by @77marvelimagines - featuring single mom reader, mutant!son, and language
Better, by @astxrwar - featuring drinking, swearing, mention of a bullet wound
Nowhere Fast, by @astxrwar - featuring mild smut, fix-it fic, and roadtrip romance
First Burn, by yours truly - featuring possessiveness, public sex, exhibitionism kink
Lucky, by yours truly - featuring masturbation (f), oral sex (f) and playful possessiveness
Nothing Wrong with Being Kinky, by @creedslove - featuring a little smut, fights and teasing
Teachers, by @darling-i-read-it - featuring a make out session, enemies to lovers trope, and fluff
Not my Daughter you bitch, by @ellana-ravenwood - featuring dad!deadpool, lovesick!Wolverine, and mutant!reader
Invisible, by @eurusholmmes - featuring pining!reader, jealousy and runaway
Back off, bub, by @harringtonisadingus - featuring language, slight violence, and shy!reader
Imagine breaking into Logan’s apartment, by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord - featuring a surprised Logan, a surprising reader and protective!Logan
Nearly Lost You There, by @littledarlinwrites - featuring songfic, angst and protective!Logan
Unfestive, by @lumifuer - featuring christmas, grumpy!Logan, and fluff
Beard Burn, by @magnificence-in-words - featuring smut, oral (female receiving), some good-natured teasing
Body Swap, by @make-me-imagine - featuring another part, body swap (obviously, and periods
Short Tickles, by @oreostars - featuring short!horny!reader, flirting, and tickle fights
Accidents Happen, by @plus-size-reader - featuring plus size reader, accidents and distressed!Logan
Control, by @plus-size-reader - featuring plus size reader, Magneto’s daughter reader, and fluff
Hello Time Bomb, by @random-imagines-blog - featuring smut, pining!reader, and jealous!Logan
Turned for the best reason, by @saltiestdemonloves - featuring mutant!reader, flirting, and fighting.
Unexpected Buffing, by @thepaperpanda - featuring unprotected smut, savior!Logan and bar shenanigans
How Many Times do I Have to Say it?, by @wolfdeamonghoul - featuring arguments, love declarations, fluff
What a Tease, by @wolfdeamonghoul - featuring teasing, male masturbation, and horny!Logan
If you know of a fic that features voyeurism and that isn’t here, please feel free to send it my way! And if any of the links here becomes broken, please let me know.
If you’re one of the writers featured here and you want to change the little summary I wrote, just send me a DM with the three characteristics you’d like to be acknowledged in the listed fic!