A/N: I was giggling like a fool writing this. Put a stop to the circle of violence!!! Give him love! Give him security!! Also based off the song Easy Living by Ella Fitzgerald!
Plot: It's easy living with you
Warnings: None, this is pure teeth rotting fluff
Word Count: 832
Living for you is easy living
It's easy to live when you're in love
And I'm so in love
There's nothing in life but you
Logan's eyes cracked open at the sound of the soft music playing in some other part of the apartment. He looked over to your side of the bed, it was empty, but he could still feel the warmth of you. He sat up, his tired muscles complaining at the movement, but he pushed through.
He shoved the comforter off, his feet making contact to the cold hardwood floor. He adjusted his sweatpants that sat low on his hips and slowly lumbered to the kitchen, moving through the small apartment as he passed picture frames hung on the walls. Pictures filled with him, Wade, Laura, you, and all your other friends. He sleepily scratched his stomach, a small yawn escaped him.
I’ll never regret the things I'm giving
They're easy to give when you're in love
I'm happy to do whatever I do for you
He walked into the threshold of your kitchen. He smiled warmly at the sight of you. Your back was turned, your attention towards the oven, where he could smell the scent of bacon and eggs cooking. Next to the oven on the counter was a plate of blueberry and chocolate waffles, already made and waiting.
Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, highlighting your figure in the small kitchen. A few messy dishes sat in the sink. Plates with knives and forks set atop them on the table in the corner. A carton of orange juice sat on the counter, next to two mugs, and paper towels soaked next to them, a few droplets of the juice sat on the counter.
Your hair pulled up in a messy bun, and you were adorning one of his t-shirts, a Led Zeppelin shirt you gifted him- yet ended up stealing and wearing it when you go to bed anyway. The sound of sizzling bacon mixed with the old jazz song playing in the background. Ella Fitzgerald - Your favorite. Your hips rocked back and forth languidly to the song, he could hear your quiet hums.
For you maybe I'm a fool, but it's fun
People say you rule me with one wave of your hand
Darling, it's grand; they just don't understand
He came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist, as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. You lifted your head up to look at him and smiled,
“Hi Lo.”
“Hey bub.” He hummed. “You snuck out of bed.”
A small giggle escaped you. “I wanted to make you breakfast in bed.” you inform him, as your hand grabbed the spatula to flip the slices of turkey bacon on the pan. He rested his chin on your shoulder, observing the food that you have been putting together - for him.
How’d he get here?
Living for you is easy living
It's easy to live when you're in love
And I'm so in love
There's nothing in life but you
He pressed another soft kiss to your cheek, the coarse hair of his beard tickled your cheek, making you giggle as you turned your head away from him. Noticing your reaction, he pursued, attempting to scratch his beard over your cheek and down to your neck, making you erupt into a fit of giggles as you tried to push him away.
“Lo! Stop that tickles!” You shrieked, but his arms tightened around your waist, and he began to attack your neck and jaw with kisses and gentle love bites. You hummed, arms settling over his as he laid down his love over you.
You reached over, flipping the burner for the eggs and bacon off.
For you maybe I'm a fool, but it's fun
People say you rule me with one wave of your hand
Darling, it's grand; they just don't understand
“Dance with me Lo.” You say, pulling away from his arms, and grabbing his hands, pulling him to the center of the kitchen. He smiled warmly, accepting your invitation. Anyone else and he would have said no - he could never say no to you though.
You pressed your body against him; his arm going around your waist, your arm wrapped around him, your hand pressed against his back as your other hands clasp together, held up beside your heads. He looked down at you, eyes filled with fondness and affection for you.
Your bodies slowly rocked back and forth in the kitchen, looking into each others eyes. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, that you deepened as you leaned up to your tiptoes, eager to be closer to him.
“Who knew the Wolverine could become so domestic?” You whispered to him after parting from his lips.
A/N: Yay! I finally made something! Also yes, I'm using an aesthetic image instead of Logan gif. I want to broad my horizons...Yafeelme?
Warnings: Fluff, laundry (ugh), small description of rotting into the earth, mentions of Wades antics, established relationship, implications of previous sexual activity
“See? I told you it’s not so bad!”
Logan looked at the building with distaste. This wasn’t his idea of a good time on Saturday night. You insisted, however, maintaining that this place was the best to hit up on nights like this. You claimed that its vibe and energy were unmatched by any other like it.
The laundromat.
A place with a blue neon sign above its doors, called Fold It Like It’s Hot. On the window was a small red neon sign, flashing 24/7. Another sign with Laundromat flashing blue.
Sitting between an organic foods market, and a chiropractor’s office, the cold inflorescence lights inside poured out onto the empty street, over you and Logan’s figures. He held a large laundry bag in one hand hanging over his shoulder, and a smaller laundry basket, his arm wrapped around it. You had a basket perched on your hip.
He looked down at you, a frown on his face as you beamed up at him.
“I’m still not convinced.” He shakes his head.
“Oh, you will be.” You nod confidently. You walk forward to the door, pulling it open for Logan as he steps inside.
The place was very clean, compared to the place he usually went to for laundry. Wade and Althea went there, so naturally Logan ended up there too. It wasn’t exactly a high quality laundromat. The washers don’t seem to do good in actually washing, and he’s had to run his clothes through a dryer more than two times to actually get dry. The floors were always strangely sticky, there was a bullet hole in one of the windows the owners never patched up, and the worst part of it was Wade always insisted on doing laundry there with him; Then proceeded to tell everybody in there that they were newlyweds.
He still gets congrats from neighbors in the building.
He doesn’t even live with Wade anymore. He has since moved out and you and him have gotten a nice little place together. Away from Wade. The fucker always knows what you two were up to though.
White walls with painted bubbles across it. Squeaky clean blue tiled floors- so shiny he could see his reflection. Dryers lined two walls opposite of each other, with two rows of washers that sat in the center of the space. Two vending machines filled with snacks and drinks sat by the door, and another at the end of the room dispensed detergent. Plenty of fine, comfortable chairs are placed everywhere. The lights were harsh with the inflorescence, but there were small neon signs with laundry puns everywhere- and plants decorated the space, bringing out a liveliness to it. Perhaps he could understand where you were coming from.
It was deserted.
“People don’t come here on Saturday nights to do laundry. Perfect for us!” You smile. “Empty, open washers and dryers. Pleasant music-” You referred to the classical jazz playing on the speakers.
“I don’t like the lighting.”
“Okay I give you that. Very cold.” You say glancing around, you set your basket on top of the washer. “It makes it feel clean though?” you turned to face him, a shrug of your shoulders and tilt of your head as you smiled.
He curled a brow, and finally a glimmer of a smile came across his lips. He walked over to where you were, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Yeah, it’s clean at least.” He hummed. He sat the basket on another washer, and the bag on the floor. “You got the quarters?”
You reached into your back pocket, pulling out your wallet, which you then pulled a card out. “No coins. We go digital in this house.” You wink. He sighed. “What? At least you don’t have to worry about it jamming in there and losing it. You just put how much you want on the card, and poke it in there and it’s done. Easy!”
“Damn machines are going to corrupt us all.” He shakes his head. You giggle, stepping forward to wrap your arms around him.
“You really are an old man. You know that?” You tipped your chin up at him. You mimicked his voice, “Those phones are bad for you! That TV is going to rot your brain! Get off my lawn whippersnappers!”
He growled, his arms wrapping around you and dipping you, making you shriek and giggle profusely, attempting to grab on to him but he had himself wrapped tight around you. He leans his forehead against yours. “If I’m an old man, what does that make you huh bub?”
“A golddigger.” You smiled, your lips brushing over his as you talked.
“I don’t have any money sweetheart.”
“Mm, I guess it’s the personality then.”
He chuckled, tilting his head to capture you in a searing kiss. You melted into him, your body laxing in trust that he won’t drop you. He brought you back to your feet, leaving you giggly and lightheaded as he snatched the card from your hand, winking at you with a smirk as he went to a washer.
He stopped at the washer, staring at the machine and the laundry card, observing them both. Then shook his head.
“Where the hell does this go?”
After you showed him how to pay and operate the washer properly, you both worked on starting multiple loads of laundry in comfortable silence. With the empty laundromat, you had all the washers needed. A combination of you and Logan’s clothes, both of your underwear, and the bedsheets that had become very messy from your proclivities early this morning.
While you were pushing in the last load of laundry, Logan went to the vending machine, dispensing your favorite snack. He presented it to you casually, but you beamed up at him and thanked him as you opened the snack and gladly feasted.
You both sat down on one of the more comfortable chairs presented to the area. You leaned on his sturdy shoulder, closing your eyes as you quietly chewed on your snack. You felt him take a deep breath, his muscles finally relaxing.
“I guess this place isn’t so bad. It’s quiet.” He mutters. You opened your eyes, a twitch of your lips, as you nuzzled into him. He moved his arm, wrapping it around you and pulling you closer. “Never thought I’d be…doing this.”
“What. Laundry?” You giggled. “Did you not do laundry? You must have smelled awful before we met.”
“Hush.” He says, but you could hear his amusement. “No I mean just something so…. Normal. Quiet. It’s nice.”
“It is.” You say, you tilt your head up at him. “You okay?” You ask, saying the reflective look on his face. His eyes met yours, and a reassuring smile grew on his face as his eyes softened.
“Yeah bub. I am.” He says. He leaned forward pressing another kiss to your forehead. You hummed, before standing up, and reaching your hand out to his, pulling him up from his seat with you. He looked at you quizzically but you pulled him close.
“The music is nice. Dance with me?” You asked.
He wrapped his arms around you, obliging in your wish as tilted his head down to yours. Slowly, you both began rocking back and forth to the melody of the smooth jazz over the speakers. The rumble of the washers filled the room. You both were wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's eyes.
At one point in his life - actually, multiple points. He begged for death. To be able to finally close his eyes and take the eternal rest. Let his body rot into the Earth and actually do something good for the world by letting the bugs and critters and detritivores eat away at him and provide some kind of nourishment to life that he couldn’t do himself.
He’s fought men and monsters. Endured pain that would make anyone go insane. Saved a few lives, and ended more. He carried a heavy weight inside him everyday, both physically, and metaphorically.
Now here he was, doing laundry. With you.
He’s not exactly sure what the universe’s goal is. To put him through hell, and then place him in this life of domesticity; He was glad to be here though. As long as you were there.
“I hope we can do laundry every Saturday night like this, for a long time.” You whispered to him. He hummed in agreement.
