#wolverine drabble

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

You and your pretty eyes that sparkle when you look at him and flutter your eyelashes to get what you want. You and your tendency to brush against him or run your hand down his arm when you walk around him making his brain go fuzzy and getting him all flustered. The whole team could see how smitten and enthralled he was with you, mocking him and calling him a love sick puppy especially when you go away on mission and he mopes around the mansion. He’s had enough of the little flirting back and forth and nothing coming of it, he was desperate for you and his crush was only getting stronger as the months went on.

You had just gotten back from a short mission with Storm and Jean when before you could even say hi to everybody Logan is grabbing your hand and pulling you away down the hall. “eh- hey! Lo slow down” you squeal out as he drags you along behind him, heart racing at the feeling of his fingers intertwined with your own. The nickname you've resorted to calling him as the two of you have gotten closer makes his ears ring. He loved when you called him Lo you were the only one allowed to, anybody else who tired got glared at.

“Need to talk to ya’ now, right now” he grumbled out, his signature, you swore permanent grumpy scowl plastered on his face. He continues to tug you down the long hall towards your bedroom. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at where he's taking you. Pushing open your door, he turns around and yanks you inside. Shutting the door, his body now facing you. His grip on your hand is still tight, he didnt wanna let go especially not when you haven't said anything about the fact he’s practically holding your hand.

“What is it? Is everything okay Lo?” You question in that sweet concerned voice you give him when he tells you he didn't sleep well because of another nightmare. “Do you want me?” He blurts out so fast the words practically blend together. You think you hear his question and it makes your head spin in more confusion but you needed him to repeat it. “What’d you say” you question as your gaze stays fixed on Logan, his own glued to your face watching for reactions. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves he starts again “Do you want me?” He questions in a slower softer tone.

Now your head really was spinning and slick settled in your core at his wording, he wasn't asking if you liked him, no he was asking if you WANTED him. your eyes that were on him are now darting around the room like it's the most fascinating thing. Through the fogginess of your brain all you can manage to eat out is a “What..?”

Pushing forward Logan backs your body up against your shut bedroom door, his frame looming over you and blocking you in. The hand that is not entangled with yours comes up to your chin to grab it and make you look at him. “Do. You. Want. Me? I'm not repeatin’ myself again pretty girl” he growls out, punching out each word of his question. He was losing his patience especially after the sweet scent of your arousal fills his nostrils and makes his cock twitch. “Cause i want you princess, have wanted you for fuckin’ months. And it's killing me, you’re killin’ me pretty girl” he groans out in frustration.

“Do you even know what you do to me? What my crush on you is doin’ to me princess? All our flirting and lingering looks, everybody always mocking me for how I act round you” he continues to ramble on, pulling your face closer to his as he waits on an answer to at least one of his questions.

“Yes..i want you Lo” you mumble out breathlessly and low. A big lopsided smirk spreads on Logan’s face as your words register in his head. “What was that baby?” He teases, needing you to repeat it just so he can hear it again.

“I want you Logan, really fucking bad” you whine out as your core aches for attention, your hips gravitate towards his to push against him. “Shit- fuck it” he groans out and grabs ahold of your waist and crashes his lips agaisnt yours, he knew the two of you should’ve gone back to the team. You needed to give Charles a debrief of the mission but Logan could care less at the moment. You kiss him with the same amount of passion and fever as your arms wrap around his neck pressing your chest to his. You hum and moan into the kiss sending vibrations through Logan’s body and straight to his confined cock that was begging to be released. “Jump and wrap ya’ legs around me baby” he instructed, his words mumbled against your lips but clear enough for you to understand. Jumping up a bit, Logan catches you by grabbing onto your ass as your legs wrapped around his waist. “Atta girl princess” you smile against his lips at the praise while he walks the two of you over to your plush bed.

Laying you down on your back, he keeps his body between your spread thighs as his mouth pulls away from yours and drifts down to kiss at your neck. His hard cock pressed right up against your leaking cunt in this position, his large hands rubbing and groping all over your body. Running over your hips and waist, palming over your tits and grabbing at your ass, anywhere his hands can reach, indulging in the fact you're allowing him to touch you like this. “Mhmm Lo, baby please i need you” you whine out and buck your hips against his, grinding your core against his bulge. “Yeah? Whatcha need baby? Huh princess? Use your words” he doesnt pull away from your neck, continuously kissing it and along your collarbones and chest as you were wearing a low cut top, even sucking and biting at your skin to form hickeys.

”Need you, need you to fuck me Lo please” you whimper out and tug at the wasit band of his jeans as well as push up at his white tank top. “Yeah i can do that baby fuck” he grunts out and sucks in a breath, a shiver going down his back when you strach at his lower stomach and happy trail. The feeling of your hands on his bare skin makes his body tingle and skin feel on fire.

His movements are frantic as he is quick to strip off his shirt and yours. Pulling your pants down and off your legs alongside your panties, leaving your bare pussy exposed to the cool air. “Oh fuck~ shes so pretty” he mumbled out under his breath seemingly to himself, you werent sure if it was aimed at your cunt or you. in his haste he just barely pushes his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock. His throbbing cock springs free, making you gasp at his size, he didn't feel nearly as big when it was hidden as he looks now. His cock long and so deliciously thick that it has your mouth watering wanting a taste. You knew your jaw would burn to accommodate his size; you couldn't imagine your cunt fitting him. “Lo i don't know if it’ll fit” you whine out, looking into his lust blown eyes with concern.

“Pretty girl if you’re as wet as ya’ smell i’ll slip right in” he chuckles softly, grabbing himself at the base and nudging his mushroom tip to open your slit and rub it through your soaked folds. Your slick collects and mixes with the precum leaking from his cock lubing up his shaft and tip. Your hole clenches around nothing everytime he brushes over it making your hips twitch and thrust up trying to get him to push inside already.

“Mmm Lo..please just fuck me already” you whine out and squirm. His brows furrowed in concentration, gaze locked on where your bodies meet, trying his hardest not to already blow his load as he lines his tip up at your entrance. Just rubbing over your pussy with his cock was causing his balls to tighten, your pussy felt heavenly and addicting. This moment was 10 times better than any of the hundreds of wet dreams he had late at night where he’d wake up with a wet spot forming in his sweats.

He lets out a broken gasp that morphs into a string of curses when he finally slowly pushes into the wet heat of your cunt. “Oh fuck~ shes already squeezin’ me so tight baby” he grunts as he finally bottoms out buried to the hilt, his hips wasting no time in finding a rymth and thrusting deep inside you. the sting of your pussy stretching to take his cock makes your head go hazy, eyes screwing shut in bliss.

You clench around him and Logan cant stop himself from thrusting harder and faster, a slurred pussy-drunk mess of sentences fall from his mouth.

“Fuck youre so hot princess, s’good for me” “Cant believe ya’ letting me do this to you, fuckin’ you like this” “Dreamt’ bout’ this for so long, been fuckin’ obsessed with ya’ for forever” he whines out in a long run on setenace as his hips slam against yours, the filthy squelching sound of your cunt and your moans and whimpers fill the air in your room. You didn't care that you were being loud enough that anyone who walked past your door would definitely hear you and know what was going on. the knowledge of that seemed to be spurring both you and Logan on more.

His eyes are locked at where your bodies are connected, his cock creating a bulge in your lower stomach every time he thrusts all the way in. “Fuck baby, look at that, my cock s’big its making a bulge when im buried inside” he groans out and presses down on your lower stomach making your cunt clench down harder on him, your body trying to milk his release out of him. Tipping your head down you open your eyes to watch as his cock thrusts in and out of your throbbing pussy, his tip driving right into that spot deep inside you making you see stars. That spongy spot that your toys could never reach just right when Logan would get you all worked up with his flirting, not like his cock currently is.

“M’gonna cum Lo- baby, Fuck- mhm~ wanna cum with you please” you moan out, your sentence coming out broken up as your climax was teetering on the edge. “Im gonna cum too baby don’t worry pretty girl” he hissed out as his fingers dig into your hips, his own flattering in there thrusting as his cock twitches inside you. “Cum on my cock princess, gonna fill this pretty up makin’ it all mine-” you cut off his sentence by grabbing ahold of the back of his neck, pulling his face down to kiss him desperately.

“Already all yours Lo, i been yours the whole time” you whine against his lips as your high washes over you, cumming on his cock as his thrusts speed up one last time.

Your cream coating his cock acts to further lube up his thick cock as it jackhammers into you, before your cunt milks Logan’s cum out of him in thick ropes that fill you. “Ya’ 100 percent all mine now baby” he hums into your mouth, lazily kissing you while he catches his breath, your hips grinding on his cock as you both ride out your highs.

“Did you cook this by yourself, Mr. Howlett?” You ask after the piece of catfish you took off your plate melts in your mouth, and to think you’d always turned your nose up at it.

“Just Logan,” He says with a kind smile that makes you blush. “I did, it’s one of James’ favorites. Figured a home cooked meal would be a nice change from takeout, huh, kid?” He says, giving his son a pointed look across the dinner table.

At that, James rolls his eyes good-naturedly and takes a piece of your fish, already having finished his whole plate. You can see now where your boyfriend gets it from as his dad starts on his second helping. “I’ll have you know, she loves takeout.”

“Of course, there’s nothing a girl loves more than consistency,” Logan teases, winking innocently at you. “Or are you the spontaneous type, darlin’?”

For a moment, you read into it. No, he’s not flirting with you, you think to yourself, he’s just being polite.

“You are very consistent and I adore that,” You offer, leaning over and sweetly kissing James’ cheek as he nods smugly at his father, “But a different drive thru once in a while wouldn’t hurt.” You add, making Logan chuckle as James turns red and playfully nudges you with his shoulder and just like that dinner carries on.

Though you can’t stop smiling at Logan, laughing at his dad jokes, biting your lip to keep from sighing dreamily as you stare at the way he fills out that black t-shirt under his flannel. The sleeves rolled up so his strong forearms are visibly flexing with each movement of his large hands.

“Babe?”

“Hm?” You hum, eyes lingering on Logan’s shoulder width and the way the greying at his temples makes him look both distinguished and dangerous.

“You ready to go?” James asks and you realize how long you must’ve been staring as you focus on Logan’s face and see him smirking subtly at you.

“Yes!” You say, immediately brought out of your head by James’ voice as he takes your plate to put in the sink. “Time to go, right.” You say, blushing as you stand and nearly tip your chair backwards. “Oops, sorry!”

“Easy there,” Logan chuckles as he takes your hand and guides you away from the table. “You don’t have to be nervous, you did great. I’m glad James brought a good girl home.” He says playfully, making you giggle as you let him pull you in for a warm hug.

“Thanks for dinner, Mist-uh-Logan.” You say, trying not to think about how strong he feels as you’re pressed up against him. God, he’s warm, and he smells so…manly, you think as you pull away and look up at him.

“My pleasure, come back again. Anytime.” He adds.

And you do.

About two weeks later, you come by a little earlier than you probably needed to, but you chalk it up to your just being comfortable with your boyfriend’s dad now. James is at work and you’re going to see a movie together before dinner with some friends when he’s off. Logan is finishing lunch when you arrive and he offers you a drink and some snacks while you wait.

You wonder if he can tell that you’re staring, but you can’t really help it when he’s just wearing a tank top with his jeans. The white ribbed material stretched taut over his broad chest, large biceps flexing as he washes the dishes and wrings his hands dry with a dish towel. Your eyes meet his green ones as he turns and comes back over to you with a bowl and a fork. God, he even smells manly, you think as he leans over you and you clear your throat as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You always on dad mode?” You ask playfully as he sets a bowl of mixed fruits next to your sparkling water on the table.

“Kind of a habit,” Logan says, watching you eat a chunk of pineapple before saying, “You like it.”

You’re mid bite on a strawberry when you catch it, the tone, and you look up at him, chewing slowly while he looks at you in amusement. “What?” You ask after struggling to quickly swallow your poorly chewed berry.

“You like being taken care of like this,” He says, reaching to cup your chin and run his thumb slowly over your bottom lip. “You like being looked after, doted on,” You feel yourself moving as he guides you up with one hand on your waist and a small inhale catches in your throat as he easily lifts you and sits you on the table. His eyes look into yours and he places his hands on your thighs, his nose brushing yours as he murmurs, “Don’t you?” You swallow your surprise and nod, suddenly very aware of the vibes and you’re liking it. “Does my son take care of you the way you need?”

“N-Not all the way.” You confess with a warmth in your cheeks that he doesn’t fail to notice. You’re not even really comparing, sex is fine with James, but this…you want this.

“Poor baby,” Logan lips brush yours and you sigh, entirely too calm for the situation. Entirely too comfortable with your boyfriend’s hot dad standing between your parted thighs in his kitchen while he’s feeling on you waist, palming your breasts, and pressing soft, exploring kisses along your jaw and neck. “Let me show how it should feel.”

Fuck it.

In Logan’s bedroom, a few minutes of making out later, you’re spread out naked on his bed while he’s lapping hungry at your pulsing slit. One of your legs is resting on his shoulder and he has the other pinned to the mattress, keeping you open. “Oh, fuck, Logan!” You moan, arching beneath him as he slurps at your soaked folds, his two fingers pumping in and out of you with an obscene squelch that makes you groan. “Oh, yes!” You thighs tremble again with yet another release and you writhe on his bed, gasping and giggling as he keeps overstimulating your sensitive clit.

“Such a good girl for daddy,” Logan growls, kissing your thighs before kissing his way up to your sternum, one hand flat on your belly as he pulls his hard cock out of his boxers with the other. “You wanna feel a grown man’s cock stretch you out, darlin’?” He asks and you bite your lip as you nod slowly, eyes locked on his as he leans down and kisses you sloppy.

“Mm!” You moan against his mouth as he slides into your wet pussy, splitting you open without missing a beat, without warning, until he’s sitting heavy deep inside you. “Oh, my god, Logan, you’re so big.” You whine, your head lolling back as you try to process the fact that your boyfriend’s dad is in you.

“Fuck, you’re tight as hell.” Logan hisses, rubbing softly on your clit, spreading your folds open with his thumb until he’s buried to the hilt. “Can see why James has been so damn distracted lately, good lord, baby.”

His hand stays on your lower belly, feeling himself as he slowly fucks you open beneath his palm, his other hand is curled at the nape of your neck, making you watch. “S-so good,” Your pussy clenches as he slowly slides out to the tip and you cry out as he slides all the way back in, and then again, and again, and again. “Yes, yes,” You moan, your hands are flat against his thick, firm chest while his hips smack insistently against yours, his cock stroking in and out of your pussy with wet smacks that full his bedroom. “Oh, my god, I’m gonna cum!”

“Mhm, go on, darlin’, take it for me.” Logan repositions himself, one hand grabbing onto the headboard above you while the other wraps carefully around your throat and you hold onto his thick forearm with both hands as your eyes rolls back and you see white from the intense orgasm that he pulls out of you. Your walls squeeze around his throbbing length and he growls as he watches your arousal coat him in a creamy slick, making it all the more easier to fuck you through your release. “That’s it, my good girl, come for daddy.”

Suddenly, he pulls out and jerks himself off to spill onto your belly, sticky spurts of his own release coating your skin as he grunts and curses, making you squirm in delight from how filthy it feels. “Mm, that was so wrong.” You breath out, looking up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

“Yeah,” Logan chuckles as he grabs his discarded t-shirt to clean you off. You watch with a warmth in your chest and he kisses your thighs, smiling as they tremble reactively from sensitivity. “So damn wrong.” He murmurs, looking down at you, his son’s girlfriend, spread out bare and trembling for him, and he swears he’s going to try to be better. “James won’t get off for another hour.” He points out.

Logan swears he’s going to be a better dad, a better man.

“Round two?” You ask sweetly, raking your manicured fingers down his sweaty, hairy chest, biting back a mischievous smile as he smirks at you.

But not today.

"Aww, pretty honey hit her head, huh? Am I fucking you stupid? Are you unable to think with daddys fingers buried deep inside your cute little pussy?"

"Please, Lo...didn't mean to, please keep goin'," you mumble back, your eyes half lidded. You shift your hips, taking his fingers even deeper, your mouth falling open as the pads of his fingers brush against that spot inside you that's making you see stars.

He chuckles, but to you it sounds like another lighthearted growl and something about it fills you with absolute primal want. You want to press your mouth against his in the filthiest kiss possible, where your tongues are tangled together and he's doing that thing where he suckles on the tip of your tongue and it's so wet and nasty that your spit mixes together, dripping down your chin and down to your tits that are peeking through your little blouse.

Before you manage to tug on his hair and do exactly that, these thoughts alongside his thick fingers pumping inside you and his thumb that's doing sharp flicks against your nub becomes too much, and before you realise what's happening, you're creaming all over his digits.

The orgasm catches you off guard, knocking all wind out of your chest. Your cunt clenches and clenches, your cum dripping all over his arm thats the same size as your thigh, now slick and shiny.

You hope that he's gonna slow down, ease his fingers out so he can fuck you properly now that you're all wet and stretched out for him, but he only seems to pick up the pace. The afterglow of your orgasm fades away and the way he's flicking your clit and massaging your g-spot starts to hurt.

"Logan, stop, no more...please, it hurts. Want you to fuck me now, need you in me," You whine softly, trying to squirm away from him.

He only laughs and grips your hip with his large hand, pushing you harder against the wall so you have nowhere to go.

Lots of batting your eyelashes, grazing his hand with yours, asking him about his day with great interest (maybe even a few not-so-sly compliments about how attractive you find him that would leave him choking on his drink)

“be careful what you say, kid”

“yeah? why’s that?” you’d edge, leaning in close enough that you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“you don’t wanna get mixed up with an old man like me.”

“I think that’s exactly what I want.”

honestly even if he clocked that you were attracted to him, it would take him time to realize that you genuinely liked him. you didn’t just want to hookup with an old guy- you wanted to learn about his life, make him laugh, patch his wounds. really, he could hardly believe that someone as beautiful and kind as you would be attracted to him. logan was convinced for a while that you had an ulterior motive.

with all the effort you put in to break down his walls, he’d slowly start developing feelings for you. at first, he thought he just cared about your wellbeing like he did anyone he at least knew the name of. but then, he’d start looking for you on the street- whipping his head around when another women brushed past him with your perfume.

logan knew he was well and truly fucked when you mentioned another guy’s name one day and his heart sank to his stomach. his jealousy got the better of him and he left the bar without a word. until that conversation he hadn’t realized how deeply (and romantically) he cared for you, but god was he relieved when you followed him out of the bar, into the rain and convinced logan how in love with him you were.

during one of charles’ more conscious moments, logan had recounted the story to him (in his words “to keep the guy happy” but we all know logan just needed to tell SOMEONE about his feelings for you) and oh my god the smile on charles’ face when he heard it.

“is she pretty?”

“is she- what? look. ask me another question and I’m getting your meds. stop pryin’.”

after the love confession in the rain, logan asked you on a proper date.

call him old-fashioned, but he insisted on picking you up from your place in the limo. logan would show up at your front door with wilted flowers (that he had picked up before his shift and left sitting in the passenger seat all day with no water) in hand.

"are those for me?" you asked.

"fuck.. yeah, I know it's not much-"

"they're gorgeous." you'd gush, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. "let me get them in some water and we can go."

logan would shove his hands in his pockets as you slipped into your house, peeking around the corner to check you out.

and yes, he would whistle to himself at what he saw and the disbelief that you wanted to go out with him.

anyway once you had started dating, I think he would find that he relies on you and your love to keep him going.

without you, logan had just concerned himself with surviving: keeping charles alive was his main priority and his jobs were just to make that possible. before you, he was nearly praying for the universe to let him go.

with you, he'd worry about- as he'd call it- "stupid shit."

he'd go to the grocery stores and actually read the labels because although he had been surviving on non-perishables, he wanted you to have nothing but the best.

"what the fuck is a GMO?"

If you tried to leave the house without saying goodbye, he'd whistle at you and motion you with his hand to come back.

"where'd'you think you're going?" he'd ask, pushing himself out of his seat with a groan. "c'mon, give me a spin."

when you went out to eat he'd pull the menu close to him, then away before he'd start spinning it in all sorts of directions just trying to get a glimpse of the options on the page.

"I can't read for shit-"

and before logan could even finish his sentence, nose still in your own menu, you'd be handing him an extra pair of reading glasses that you kept in your purse for him at all times.

"fuck you're good."

logan would be convinced that with his old age and body to match that he'd be gone soon. although he would never flat out say it, he would make an effort to show you how to take care of yourself so that when something did happen to him, he could go knowing that you would be okay.

He would teach you how to fix a leaky faucet with his arms wrapped around you and when you finally nailed it, he'd wrap his arm around you and kiss your forehead.

"Attagirl"

anyway I think old man! logan would lay awake at night regretting that you didn't get the younger, more fit, less damaged version of him but then you'd snuggle up into his side with a humm and he'd remind himself that it all led to you,.

thank you for the request nonnie!!