I have alot of thoughts about him and wanted somewhere to put them. PLEASE feel free to interact if you wanna talk more about him. I'm also not afraid to interact if you have based takes :)
I'm open to dms if you wanna be wolverine sickos together (unfortunately I'm not into RP)
logan howlett x reader (i imagine f!reader, but there are no descriptions so you may imagine what you like)
author's note: this is my very first little story i'm posting on here! it's a very short drabble.
you wake up sometime in the middle of the night, eyes hazy with the memories of wispy dreams. your darling lo's arms are wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest. the moon casts a pretty silvery glow on his frame.
you reach up to touch his face, lovingly tracing the contours of his features with the lightest touches from your fingertips. his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, his strong brow. rough edges softer in starlight.
logan looks so young when he's fast asleep beside you, almost boyish. it's the only time his troubles ever seem to leave him be. still, there is a crease between his eyebrows, a faint line, invisible to anyone who doesn't know him like the sea knows the warmth of the sun. to anyone but you.
you frown, trying to make him relax with the touch of your gentle hands and the softest of kisses on that very spot. logan wakes, blinking at you with remnants of slumber in his eyes, reaching to stroke your hair.
"sorry, lo. didn't mean to wake you", you whisper, kissing his nose.
"s'okay darlin', 'long as it's you.", he mumbles back, lovely amber wood eyes already closing.
that faint worry line is gone. you smile to yourself, stroking his cheek, before letting the moon softly rock you back to sleep in her glow. she looks beautiful tonight.
A/N: this is a random lil blurb i literally wrote on my phone before i go to sleep. Take what you will from this 🩷
Another restless night.
Logan tossed in bed again. His sleep has been plagued with nightmares. Stuff that makes his body tense and his heart racing. Its always different. Sometimes theyre memories of the past, the pain and fear he felt during wars, missions, experiments. And sometimes they're his worries of the future. Losing his home, people he can call family.
Tonight his nightmares warped around one person. You.
It has him climbing out of bed. Pulling on a pair of sweats and silently walking down the halls in a familiar path to your bedroom.
When he reached the door, the click of the knob was loud in the silence of the mansion, but he was careful swinging open the door. Move it too fast and it has a loud creak- learned that the hard way.
You were snuggled under what he considers too many layers of blankets. A book you have been reading was discarded by your side, left open on the page you were last reading. The curtains of your window was open and he could see the mansions yard bathed in darkness with a bright full moon hanging in the sky. You liked to sleep with open curtains so you could watch the moon when you go to sleep, and wake up to the sunrise. He didn't like it initially, even complained, but had to admit there was a particular savvy to waking up to the warmth of a golden morning sun.
He closed the door behind him so the light of the hall didn't disturb you, shrouding the room in darkness again. Made his way to your bed where he carefully bookmarked your page and set it on the table. Pulled back the blankets and climbed into the bed by your side. He was trying not to disturb the bed too much, didn't want to wake up but you began stirring when his arm wrapped around you.
"Mm, Logan?"
"Sorry," He nuzzled into your neck as he adjusted himself to spoon you properly. "Didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine." You tilted your head to look at him with sleepy eyes.
"You mind if I sleep here tonight?"
You yawn, turning back to your side. Your hand rests over his as you tucked yourself against him "Lo, you can sleep here every night, if you want. You don't have to ask."
But he does. Because you both haven't quite figured out what you mean to each other yet. Shared plenty of private, intimate, moments together, lots of stolen kisses before someone came into a room, your shampoo is in his shower, and he's got an extra toothbrush in your bathroom.
Okay, maybe you have figured it out. Just been extremely patient, more patient than he deserves, in letting him figure it out.
His fingers intertwined into yours, and you brought your hands up to your chest as you snuggled deeper into the blankets. He noticed you had a picture of him on your bedside table.
Okay, maybe he figured it out too but has been too chicken to make it official. His nightmares are proof of that.
He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Perhaps, in the morning when the sun rises, he'll talk to you.
