#wolverine x f!reader

Logan Howlett has it out for you.

You're sure of it.

Why else would your dear boyfriend, and fellow teacher, be lying in bed with you, arm draped lazily over you at 4am?

"Lo..gan… get… off…"

And you just know he's awake. You know him, and how he wakes up around 3:30am, just to drape himself round you.

"Baby… c'mon, s'too much..!"

His face, pushed up against your ear, lowers slightly to your neck, growling and shaking his head. You're huffing and puffing, pushing against him as you whine.

Oh.

That does something to him (you know it does. You know what you do to him..), and now he's sat upright, pulling you by your waist into his lap, his huge hands wrapped round your waist. You're gasping (as though you didn't know he'd do that) as his form looms over you. He's practically pulling you over him, and you can feel him through your thin panties, as his hands travel up your body, groping and tugging at your nipples.

You could say you tried to stifle a moan, feeling him push through his boxers and your panties. But you'd be lying, given how he'd not even let you had a chance to try, his teeth crashing down onto your neck, sucking softly first, before becoming needier with want, as your hands drag across his back,

"L-Lo…gan..!!!"

He's humming in response, before laying you down, grabbing a pillow and shuffling it under your hips, pressing kisses to your waist as he briefly rests his head on your stomach. Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, roaming and sighing, revelling in the briefest moment of peace he gifts you, the calm before the storm.

Speaking of, just outside your shared room, rain and thunder powered down through the grounds, cold and relentless, a harsh contrast to the (somewhat) sweeter nature of the two bodies, entagling together under the moonlight. He pauses, just to look up at you, your hand caressing his face as his softened honey eyes stare longingly at yours. Just the way he looks back at you, lovingly, adoringly, needingly, has you falling in love with him, all over again. Your shirt (or rather, his old shirt) rides up, revealing your bare skin to the cold air of the night. Not cold for long though, as his kisses press across you, whilst his hands work to reveal yourself to him, one finger hooking under your waistband and tugging until they rip off,

"Logan! I liked those!"

"…I'll buy ya more, 'kay?"

"You better.."

His face lowers further, hot breath fanning over you, teasing you. His lips hover over you, his tongue reaching out dangerously close to you, tasting the air around you as he pulls your thighs open, holding them down with his hand across your thighs,

"Lemme at'ya baby.. C'mere.."

With barely any warning, he dives in, tongue immediately lapping at you, needy and hungry. Your back immediately arches up and off the pillow, lifting as he relentlessly chases your high, hands still pressed down on you, the pressure sure to leave bruises in the morning.

He pauses briefly, just to appreciate his work (much to your dismay), before an idea flashes across his brain.

He lowers himself again, slowly, teasingly dragging his tongue across your clit, lowering to your folds, spelling out his name (the full name, mind you). Each letter has you writhing, grabbing the sheets so tight that they might just rip up from your hands. Yet his pace remains consistent, never wavering nor speeding up, even when your thighs practically shatter round him on your release as he reaches the final 'T'. He lets go of your thighs, letting you wrap round his head, holding him in place as he continues relentlessly lapping at you.

His arms travel upwards, supporting your upper body as he lifts you over him, turning round so you'd face the headboard and lowering his body, knees up (in case you do fall backwards). Your hands instinctively reach out to the headboard for support, gripping tightly as his hands wrap round your stomach. You can feel yourself coming closer and closer, as he finally starts to speed up, his hunger and sheer need to taste you, gushing over his tongue only increasing. You're moving your hips over his mouth, whining and moaning as you cum (again!) all over him, finally resting your hips on his face, feeling his grin against your folds.

He's lowering you again, climbing over you. You can feel your juices, on his beard, swiping over your skin as he presses kisses all up your body, lifting your shirt as he does. When he finally reaches your chest, he pulls the shirt off, throwing it across and pulling one nipple, teasing with his fingers, and wrapping his mouth over the other, sucking and groaning against your soft skin. Your hands find his hair again, one leg hooked over his thigh, and the other creeping over his other thigh. You lower your hands down to his back attempting to pull him up you. Yet he shakes his head, chuckling as he releases one nipple, dragging his spit (still mingled with your slick) over to the other nipple, each receiving equal treatment. When he's finally satisfied, he reaches up to you, pulling you into his embrace as his lips find yours (the higher ones, this time). There's something about how you can taste yourself on his tongue, somehow only turning you on even more.

Yet, you find an issue with the situation, given that his boxers remain on, trapping himself in ways that, well, don't sit quite right with you.

So you push him back slightly, against the other pillow at the headboard, lowering your own body down his and tugging his boxer down, releasing his thick, bright red cock to the air. Sure, you could call that pre-cum, coating his cock, but both you and I know he came when he ate you out, like the madman he is.

He hisses, throwing his head back over the headboard as your nails feather over him, teasing him before your fingers wrap round his length, pumping up and down. You don't need to spit down on him, but you know he needs to see it, so you lower your lips, spitting down, continuing to stroke as you finally slip your tongue up and over him, wrapping your lips round him, and slowly sucking, with small movements going up, and down, and up, and down. With each one, you take more and more of him into your mouth, gagging slightly at his full length in you, eyes rolling back with how he fills your mouth so perfectly.

Meanwhile, he's barely held together, hands tangled in your hair as he pulls your head up and down on him, guiding your mouth over his cock. He's moaning, groaning and panting as you hum here and there, the vibrations moving through his body.

It's no surprise that he cums quick, thick cum covering your mouth and throat. As always, you devotedly attempt to take it all in, swallowing him whole, only to pull your open mouth away with a thick string of cum and saliva dripping down you. His lazy smile and softer hands pull you in, and hold you close, before he flips you, adjusting you so your knees sit perfectly on the bed, you in front, him behind,

"C'mon baby, ass up, let's go."

"Mmmm, Lo…"

"Not gonna ask again."

"Fiiiiinnnneee.."

You comply, raising yourself up to him as he adjusts himself behind you, his hands roaming your hips, your waist, your ass. He spreads your legs just enough for himself, pumping himself twice before he pushes into you, moaning at just how perfectly you wrap round his thick cock,

"Take m'so well, baby, c'mon, jus' a little more, you can take it baby.."

"Fuuuuck… Lo… s'been too long…"

"I know baby… doin' s'well.."

You clench round him slightly, right as he fills you out, head resting just behind your ear, hot breath coating your neck as he inhales deep before slowly moving out, and back in, a slow pace just to get his gorgeous girl situated for him again.

Your hand begins to reach down, only for him to swat it back, pulling your elbows onto the mattress,

"Stay. Don't move now, gorgeous."

You whine in response, but otherwise remain as he's placed you, his right hand lowering to your clit, rubbing small circles as you lower your face further, slipping from your slightly raised position, into one that only takes him in deeper,

"Jus' like that baby.. C'mon.. take me in gorgeous.."

His pace is brutal, slamming in and out, each time accompanied by obscene, lewd sounds of the two of you mixing, mingling, your higher pitched moans, his lower pitched groans. He's lowering his lips to your ear, whispering into you, only heightening your intense dizziness as he does,

"Gonna fuck a baby into this sweet pussy, yeah? C'mon pretty girl, wanna see you full, round and perfect f'me.."

You're babbling incoherently, unable to form any sentence that consists of words outside of 'yes!, 'please!', "logan!', 'more, baby', and somewhere along the line,

"Fill me up, Logan, please, need ya t'fill me up, baby!"

Something snaps in him, as his hands fly to your hips, locking you in place as he slams in through your release. You should be going limp in his hands, he should be slumping over you, but instead, he's never been more driven, moaning and groaning into your ear as you claw at the sheets beneath you. All the while, he's whispering into your ear, evil, evil, man,

"C'mon babe, don't want the others to hear, d'ya? Or do ya.. wan'em to hear me fill y'up? Wan'em hear ya pretty noises, y'cummin' all over me? That whatcha want baby? Tell me, pretty girl, use those big girl words y'got, c'mon.."

"Nee….d… Logan I need, need, nee-! Need it s'bad.. please? Please, baby, m'so close!"

"Little more, c'mon, gotta let it take, c'mon babe."

He's nearing his own release, and can feel you tightening round him, your walls pulling him in as he thrusts in and out. When you finally cum, releasing with a sound that - if not muffled by the pillow beneath you - would have definitely woken people up. Your hips and walls tighten even more, attempting to hold him where he is, except he keeps pushing in and out, before finally painting your walls with his release, working slowly through his release, slowing his pace before slumping over you, pressing kisses on your shoulders.

He doesn't pull out, not for a very long time, choosing to stay buried in you as his hands wrap round your torso. You're very near to falling asleep, when he finally pulls himself out of you, his hand scooping off the slick and pushing it back in as he whispers, just low enough for you to hear,

"Gotta let it take, baby girl.."

You're whining at the loss of him, aching slightly until he pushes your mixed cum back in with his fingers, before grabbing a soft clean cloth, soaking it down with warm water before he cleans you up, joining you back in bed and pulling you over his chest,

"C'mere gorgeous… get some rest, baby.."

Out of words and energy, you quietly curl up into his chest, head pressed against him, eyes closed softly as you trace small patterns on his skin. His arms hold you securely in place, muttering sweet nothings as the two of you drift off to sleep.

So, given the night's… events, it's no wonder the two of you wake up mere minutes before class, rushing around, your room a mess as you scramble to prepare for the day. The two of you stumble out of the room, muttering and mumbling curses under your breaths, only to bump right into Professor X. He stares at the two of you, and the two of you stare at him. And he stares at the two of you again, and the two of you stare at him again.

"…"

"…"

"…so. Long night, I presume?"

xoxo, roe~

the usual reactions of course:

Your relationship with Logan was just as new as your employment in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He reeled you in like a fish on a hook. Whatever the two of you had, it was nice. You think it had been a long time since he had something like this too. Someone to care for. Someone to please. 

Neither of you could keep your hands off each other. 

It was too early for ‘I love you’s’ or to declare something like moving in together, but he already spent most nights in your room as it was. If he didn’t spend the night he’d find you in the early morning just to hear you moan his name. That boy was determined never to let you sleep— not that you’re really complaining.

You’d never had a lover like Logan. Someone so… starved. He craved your touch, rambled on about your scent, and held you on the edge for what felt like hours. It was all new and some parts of it, admittedly, a little weird, but fuck was it exciting. 

You’d started a new life for yourself, more or less. Started over, more accurately. And he was there to soften all the blows. You hope you did the same for him. 

You can’t believe you thought he ever had ulterior motives about you when you came back. Once you found out you both had more similar pasts than you’d realized, you were sure the only thing he'd want was information from you. How glad you were to be wrong. 

Victims of the same cruelty but you were both different. You still had your memories. Your identity. He didn't. 

You vowed to help find out who he was, and that seemed to mean more to him than anything— but it was a slow process. Old information and long abandoned facilities. Still, you had each other through all of this and that helped the pain, just a little. Facing your demons together. 

Right now, however, Logan was your only tangible demon. He still had you trapped in bed and late for class. 

“Just a quickie,” he purrs, nibbling at your ear.  

“I have a class to teach in 20 minutes. You should have gotten here earlier,” You muster up any strength you have against him, “And it’s never quick with you.”

“Or you just don’t want it to be quick,” His mouth finds your bare shoulder, already marked with week's worth of love bites from him. You can’t deny the trill of excitement it sends through you.

This fucking man. 

You want to. Lord in heaven, you really, really want to. Sometimes this being a responsible mentor thing got in the way.

“Logan…” You push lightly against his chest. It’s not much of a protest, really. None of your weak-willed squirming was.

“Okay… okay,” His grip around your waist finally loosens and you reluctantly get out of bed. He gives your ass a playful spank as you do. 

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You scold him with a smile as you dig through your dresser for anything that was clean. 

“Got a good reason to be,” He grins, resting his arms behind his head and stretching out over the bed. You can’t help the blush that creeps into your cheeks. Logan never missed an opportunity to compliment you. 

You, a little reluctantly, pull on a pair of jeans and one of his white shirts. Slowly but surely all your laundry was getting intermingled to the point of no return. That and you know he always liked when you wore something of his. You don’t think any of your own tee-shirts were clean anyway.

Yeah, it’s probably time to do laundry. 

You top it off with a loose black cardigan to seem somewhat teacherly. You gather your folders with today’s syllabus. You had three classes today. Logan usually had two— if you could you really call PE and survival basics a class. The kids usually just roped him and Kurt into playing flag football with them. It was adorable in its own Logany way.

“I’ll see you out there, Professor Logan,” you give him a peck on the forehead before shimming on your shoes. 

“God, don’t ever call me that again.” He chuckles, covering his face with his forearm.

“Would you prefer daddy?”

His hand immediately drops, “Don’t tempt me, darlin’.”

You’re at the door now, giving yourself one last moment to admire the perfect man sprawled out in your bed.

“Don’t sleep in too late,” you open the door. 

“See you out there, toots.”

______

There are only a few more warm days left in fall and you refuse to let them go to waste. You always liked holding classes outside anyway. This was Environmental Science after all. As an earthmover, it always felt natural. Feeling the actual ground under your feet made everything easier to teach in a way. 

You’re teaching the different types of erosion this week. The class is gathered on the grass on the edge of the pond as you hover different rocks around them. Examples of river-smoothed stones, bed clay, and a few from the Grand Canyon you’d brought in from your personal collection. 

You’d never thought of yourself as the best teacher but the kids seemed to at least enjoy the theatricality. You knew dirt. You knew the earth, and that seemed to be enough.

You hear the PE class run out onto the other side of the lawn, Logan dutifully following behind them. You don’t even need to look to feel his eyes on you. You're not sure if you're irritated by the distraction or think it’s a little cute he wants to be near you.

Well, if he’s going to distract you and your class, you might as well distract him. The kids had started a game of frisbee golf, something his full attention didn’t need to be on anyway.  Logan always joked he was just a glorified babysitter. You take off your cardigan when you feel a small gust of wind. His head immediately snaps your direction when you do. 

He’d told you before he liked the mix of your scents. The more animalistic part of him liked it anyway. He always seemed ashamed of it, despite your insistence you didn’t care. You could never truly understand, sure, but that didn’t change your feelings for him. Besides, you didn’t mind feeding the animal every once in a while. 

You’d reached the end of your class period and quickly dismissed your students, reminding them of the homework as they scurried back into the mansion. You remain outside, cleaning up the small mess your lesson had made. 

You still feel Logan’s eyes on you. You can’t help the excitement his gaze stirs in you. Logan did something to you no other man had ever done— he made you feel desirable in ways you’d never experienced. 

It was an incredible turn-on, to say the least.

You feel your panties slowly start to wetten. You see a shift in his posture in the distance. You smile, bending over to pick up the loose papers you’d left on a nearby bench. You pause there far longer than you needed to— just a small tease but you know it’s something that’ll drive you crazy. He always said he liked you in these jeans the most.

You feel his eyes burning into your back the entire walk to the mansion. You can’t help but smile.

______

You're leaning against the front of your desk, looking over tomorrow's lesson, when you hear his signature booming steps hurrying down the hallway. It’d been an hour since your last class ended. He enters the office, closing the door behind him immediately. 

“Professor Logan,” You greet him teasingly, leaning back against the desk. 

He says nothing as he stalks towards you with heavy steps, crashing his mouth into yours. You pull him in as he inserts his body between your legs. His mouth is hungry against yours— desperate even. His lips trail down to your jaw.

“You think you’re cute, huh? Prancing around in my clothes, showing off your ass, gettin’—”

“I’m very cute,” you giggle as he nips at you.

He growls, pulling you up to lead you back to the desk chair. He liked it when you sat on his lap. It was both of your lunch breaks. You’d always spend them together, though usually not in your shared office.

Charles required everyone to have office hours, even Logan. He fought it every step of the way until he finally relented to just sharing yours. He was almost never here. He didn’t have a reason to be— well unless you were there. His desk sits across from yours just as bare as the day it was put in. Yours, on the other hand, was quickly cluttering as the school year went on.

“Still worked up from this morning,” Logan admits as he nips at your lip, “Need you, sweet thing.”

Absolutely insatiable.

“Poor boy,” You tease, your hands slowly trailing down to his obnoxious belt buckle. “I’ll take care of you.”

You always liked to tease him more than you’d care to admit. He’d get so worked up over the smallest things. You were always happy to indulge him… every fucking time. 

You sink down to your knees, pulling his jeans with you. His cock bulges out against his boxers, already hard and waiting. You palm at him, giving him a rough squeeze through the fabric. He hums in approval. God, he always felt so good.

There’s almost a sigh of relief when you pull him free. You give him a few rough strokes before your tongue follows, trailing up from his base and swirling around his tip, pre cum already leaking free. His rough hands grip your hair as you lavish his cock with your tongue. 

You pause at the tip, placing a single feather light kiss before taking him completely into your mouth. He chokes out a strangled moan, doing his best to stay quiet. Luckily, the walls of the mansion were thick. 

The grip in your hair tightens as you find a rhythm. 

“T-that's it,” his voice is shaky, dripping with pleasure, “Just like that. Good girl.”

He always praised you. Whether giving or receiving, he always made sure you felt seen. 

A part of this excited you so much. It was scandalous, having him splayed out like this at your work desk, doing your best to suppress the moans that brew in your throat from the thrill of it all. You loved making him fall apart. This was just as much for him as it was for you. You were both having fun. Both acting like giddy, horny, little teenagers. 

His grip in your hair shifts, and you feel him tense under you. He can’t be close already? Before you have time to ask what’s going on you’re being shoved underneath your own desk. You want to scream what the absolute fuck?! before you hear the office door being clicked open.

“Logan?” It's Scott’s voice. 

“What?” Logan bites out, leaning over the front of the desk to conceale you completely. Thank god Charles always insisted on these massive solid oak desks.

“I’m just— You’re sitting at Dozer’s desk,” Scott stammers out. 

“Had something I needed,” he quickly lied. 

You’re cramped into a wooden box basically, one of the walls being made out of thick muscled legs with a heavy cock still hanging between them. You were playing a game with Logan, might as well make it more interesting. 

“Have you seen her?” Scott asks, “I needed—”

“No.” Logan only grits out, “She’s probably down in the—”

He cuts himself off the moment your hand grasps his cock again. You can’t help but smile when you run your tongue back up the velvet length. He can’t move his arms because that would expose you. He can’t move his legs because there’s not enough room with you between them. He’s stuck here while you torture him in the sweetest way possible. You don’t miss the way his cock jumps when you take him back into your mouth. 

“She’s where Logan?” Scott, blissfully unaware, prompts him.

“I don’t— I don’t fucking know,” You swear you can almost feel him shaking with the effort to keep his voice steady, “Why don’t you go fucking look for her then, huh?”

There isn’t as much room to move your head as you’d like, so you let your tongue and hands do most of the work. 

“Well, can I just get on her computer?” You hear Scott take a step closer. Oh no, “I just need a—”

“Piss off, Summers!” He practically growls it out. “You need her then go fucking find her.”

You hear Scott scoff as he takes a step back. To be fair, this was completely in character for the two of them. It was doubtful Scott suspected anything. You reach up and give Logan’s balls a gentle fondle while you worship his tip with your tongue as silently as you can.

Finally, you hear Scott retreat to the hallway. 

“I don’t know why she’s with you, Logan. I really don’t.” He spits before slamming the door behind him. 

Logan doesn’t waste a second once the door is closed again, pushing the chair back and grabbing your face roughly. His cock falls from your mouth with a wanton gasp. You must look like a mess but can’t bring yourself to care.

He just holds you there for a moment, your mouth just inches away from his cock. His eyes have glossed over with lust. He loved this, you know he fucking loved this because you did too. 

“You’re trouble,” he says, pulling you both to standing, “You’re so much fucking trouble.”

He turns you around and bends you over the desk immediately, a few pencil cups shaking with the force. He yanks down your jeans a little rougher than you’d like but you still kick them off the rest of the way. Your underwear still remained in place. He kicks your legs wider and trails a hand up your back, pressing his palm down between your shoulders. His other hand drips between your legs, a finger rubbing over your clothed pussy.

“Fucking soaked through already?” he purrs. “You get wet sucking my cock, baby?”

“Yes.” It practically comes out as a plea. Well, it’s only fair he’s toying with you now. Your legs are almost shaking in anticipation. 

You squirm as he starts to rub the damp fabric directly over your clit. His hand on your back presses you down harder, pinning you in place. He’s doing what you did to him— in his own way. Trapped at his mercy. 

He pushes your underwear to the side, two fingers running through your slick folds a few times before delving in. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, barely successful in silencing yourself. He curls his fingers, back and forth as he works his hand up and down. Anyone could walk in that door at any moment. Logan would stop if he heard anyone coming again—right?

“You know what you do to me?” His voice is ragged, almost pained, “Fuck, do you have any idea?”

His pace is speeding up and your restraint is slipping, but there’s nothing you can do to get out of this. And, fuck you don’t want him to stop either. You’re completely his right now. 

You finally let out a wail when rips his hand out of your cunt and slaps it across your ass. His touch stays there, gripping the stinging skin, sharp pain quickly melting to the pleasure that was racking your whole body. He takes his other hand off your back. You don’t move, your stomach stirring in anticipation.

It feels better than it should when his hard, massive cock runs over your soaked pussy. He’d dialed up all of your nerves to eleven. You involuntarily ach back into him like a fucking bitch in heat.

“Oh Christ, why are you with me…” he lines himself up, “That’s what Summers said, right? He doesn’t know why you’re with me?”

“Logan—” You attempt to speak up before the air in your lungs vanishes when he thrusts inside of you in one jarring motion. He stays there a good moment, grinding his hips into your ass, gathering himself. God, he was so fucking deep. He draws out and slams back in again. You hear the desk creaking in protest this time, several items falling off. 

He leans over you, hot tongue trailing up your spine before nuzzling his face in next to your ear. 

“I know why,” He starts to roll his hips against yours. His imposing body and magic dick were taking over every sense you had. God, you wish you could scream. “It’s because you know no one else can fuck you like I can. Can take care of you like I can.”

He nips at your ear as he finds a pace, tiny low grunts escaping in rhythm with his hips. This was just as much about dominating you as it was about being as close to you as humanly possible. Mixing your scents and desires together until the line is blurred between the two. Yes, Logan fucked you unlike anyone else had, and your certain better than anyone else ever could, but he also loved you harder than you ever knew possible. 

Loyal to a fault. It’s instincts, he always said. You always hated when he compared himself to an animal, but in a lot of ways it's just part of who he was. He seemed past trying to deny it and embrace it in his own way. Let the beast free, so to speak. 

“Tell me,” He growls into your ear, “Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

You struggled to form the single-word answer, but it eventually came out, whined and shaky. 

“Y-y-you,” you swear you’re drooling, “O-only you, b-baby. O-only—” You trail off, likely losing all brain function to the intoxicating filth of it all. 

“That’s right. T-that’s right,” he chants a few times like he’s fucking praising himself for it, “Only me. You’re all mine. I’m all yours.”

You’re not sure if it’s a gasp of surprise or pain that escapes you when he lifts you both. He holds you against him, still fucking you while you’re both standing. You’re forced to stand on your tiptoes, your hands grasping onto the forearm around your chest for any sense of balance. You weighed nothing to him. He’s still fucking you senseless. He’s holding you both up and still fucking you senseless.

You swear you go blind when his other hand snakes down to your clit. 

“Shoulda stayed in bed this morning,” His stubble rubs against your cheek, “Wouldn’t have to fuck you like this if we— shit— if we had time this morning.”

“L–Logan, I–I—” You start to warn him but can’t manage to get it all out. Nevertheless, you’re sure he knows. He always knows when you’re close. You feel it, the mounting pressure at your core. Sweet, precious relief. 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

It hits you like a train, hard and almost completely by surprise. The hand around your chest immediately comes up to clamp around your mouth. You scream against his palm while he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, practically using you like a goddamn sex toy at this point. 

He mutters out a string of curses while he attempts to maintain his equilibrium— and eventually fails. He collapses back into the chair behind him, dragging you with him. He almost slips out. Almost. He holds you close against his chest, hips completely still against your ass as he pulses rope after rope into you.

“Good girl, good girl,” you hear him muttering into your neck like a prayer. 

Your haggard moans into his hand eventually fade into one long heavy sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax against him. You feel his body unwind as well, his previously firm hand over your mouth coming to stroke your cheek. His lips lull around your neck, placing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss wherever he could reach. He was always so gentle after sex. Those hands that were so rough just a moment ago gently glide over your skin. You always find comfort in their heft. 

“Do you think anyone heard us?” you finally ask, leaning your head back against his. 

“Fuck ‘em if they did,” he nuzzles himself right under your jaw. Close— he always had to be so close. 

“Charles is gonna fire us if he ever finds out,” you bring your hands up to your face, rubbing into your eyes just a little too hard.

“You can’t fire an X-Man.”

“Teachers, Logan, we’re teachers.” Ah good, the mortification was settling in just in time to ruin the moment. Fabulous. 

“Stop it,” you swear you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“He’s gonna read our minds and see what absolute animals we are and he’s gonna fire us.” The irony that you're saying this out loud while Logan is still fully inside you in your shared office is not lost on you. You feel his chest bouncing against your back, chuckling lightly at your dismay of your surely oncoming termination. You can’t help but laugh along with him, just a little. 

You eventually untangle your bodies and fish your pants off the floor. Maybe you had time for a shower before your next class. Christ, you need one. Logan wasn’t the only mutant with advanced senses in the school and the last thing you need is teenagers starting a rumor mill about two teachers fucking in their office. Still, when you look back at Logan you know you’d do it all over again regardless.

Whatever this was with him, whatever you’d started, you know you can’t stop it. The thought should terrify you, but for once you’re not afraid.

You reach out and grab his hand, “Wanna grab lunch?”

Logan and casual dominance just came natural. You had to get used to it at first. You never really had someone take care of you the way he did. It was always the little things that showed you that he really did love you.

Pours your coffee for you while you hold out your mug.

Enjoys cooking and even feeding it to you. Especially breakfast because he knows you're very tired to do anything at all early in the morning.

Cooking together, and it's really him giving you the easiest tasks. "Wash the vegetables for me, will ya?"

"Be a good girl for me and hand me the butcher knife."

"Let me do that for ya" is what you'll hear a thousand times a day

When you're out in public, logan loves putting his hand on the small of your back and guides you around.

While you're getting ready for a date night together, logan absolutely loves getting kneeling to help put your heels on and then brushing his fingers up your leg to tease you. Maybe he'll give the inside of your thigh a little kiss, too. You constantly tell him you can do that yourself, but if it was up to him, you'd never have to lift a finger to do anything.

If you're at a restaurant, he'll order for you because he knows sometimes you get a little flustered and nervous. "It's okay. I'll tell'em what ya want, don't worry." He'll reassure with a smirk as he winks at you.

He likes to keep an extra cardigan of yours in his truck just in case it gets cold later on if you're still out together. He'll wrap you up in it and hug you to his body for extra warmth even if you tell him you're fine.

Hand on your thigh while he's driving at all times.

Logan always opens doors for you. When you're getting out of the car, he's running over to help you out. He'll even put his hand between your legs to prevent you from accidentally flashing anyone your underwear if you decided to wear a dress that day. Once you're out, he'll look you over and help fix your clothes and the bottom of your dress down just in case anything you didn't want showing was.

"That a new dress? Looks pretty on you."

He loves holding you close to him by your waist. He's always touching you and looking behind him to make sure you're right there.

If you're trying to reach something from the kitchen cabinet, he'll come up behind you and get it. His body pressed to your back. He loves the way you look up at him while you wait for him to hand you whatever it was you were struggling to get down.

Logan will give the top of your head a little kiss and pat your ass softly. "Here you go, baby, next time, jus' call for me."

You always got butterflies in your stomach when he did that.

"Come sit in my lap." he'll gently command you after he planned a movie for you and him to watch.

He'll rub soft circles on your hip. Your head resting on his shoulder as you both relax in eachothers embrace. Everything felt serene and calm. That was a feeling logan was never used to, but he never stopped chasing after it.

When you're not sitting in his lap and instead lounging on the couch with him as you're reading a book. Logan will have one of your ankles in his hand and softly stroke your skin absentmindedly.

Backs you up against a wall just to kiss your cheek.

Washing your hair in the shower and wants to rub your lotion on after he gets you dried off. It's not even in sexual but it always feels so intimate.

Loves to help you get dressed for bed. He'll grab on one of his t-shirts and a makeup wipe to get you ready for sleep. He'll pull back the blanket and tuck you in right next to him, with you being the little spoon.

Will lay naked with you in bed and kiss you from head to toe. Once again, it is always sexual but more tender and intimate. Sometimes, it doesn't even lead to sex. He'll hold you until you fall asleep on his chest.

Whispers how much he loves you while you're sleeping.

Logan isn't controlling even though sometimes you may feel like he is. You only felt that way if he on the rare occasion tells you no.

The only times he ever tells you no if is you want to go out alone somewhere at night. He'll drive you there and wait outside while you go have some fun with your friends. He's definitely not letting you go out alone, and he has no way of protecting you in case something were to happen. Logan has lost way too many people in his life. He's got lots of enemies. Any one of them could pop up at any moment.

— NSFW —

When he's fucking you it's a little more intense.

He loves having you ride him even though he knows you struggle to take him that way.

"You need some help, huh? My sweet girl can't do it by herself? " His large hands hold your waist to help bounce you on his cock.

"Grab onto the headboard, and I'll do the rest."

"So good, my good girl." He breathed as you whimpered. He'll thrust his hips up to meet yours. His swollen tip almost hitting at your cervix.

You felt one of his hands leaving your waist to travel up between the valley of your breasts before wrapping around your throat. Logan never squeezed down enough too roughly.

You never understood how he could be so rough and gentle with you at the same time. He's choking you but whispering in your ear, calling you his "good girl." And how perfect you are." He's peppering kisses all along your face. Spitting in your mouth while driving his cock hard and deep in your pussy.

Or when he's got you on your knees sucking him off.

"Slowly," his voice would get serious, but his hand would come down to caress your check.

Logan will always give you that lovingly look before pushing your head down all the way your nose was buried in the soft curls above his cock. Your eyes are watery with tears as you gag when he hits the back of your throat. Your makeup is all smeared, and all logan thinks as he's looking down at you, and you're looking up at him is how lucky he is to have you.

"Your throat feels so amazing. You always look so beautiful like this. Mouth full with your pretty eyes lookin' up at me."

After he cums he'll gentle pull his cock from your mouth. He bends down to give your lips a sweet kiss before squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth back up. He wants to see if you swallowed every drop he gave you. He knew you did. You always swallowed every bit of cum he released your on tongue.

Logan is obsessed with having you on all fours at the edge of the bed. Your ass up high, and your face smashed into a pillow. His face buried in your cunt from behind. His nose tickling and prodding at your entrance while his tongue flicks over your clit. His soft lips wrapped around to gently suckle on your aching bud. His hands on both of your hips, keeping you firmly in place. Every once in a while, he'll spank you to keep you focused. Not too hard. But hard enough to make you yelp.

"Aw, does this position embarrass you?" He cooed at you.

You'll nod because it does.

"Tch tch, that's just too bad."

You always felt so exposed like that, but you knew it was logans favorite position to have you in. He could do literally whatever he wanted. You tried to hide your face from him, and he'd spank you even harder for that. He wants to peak over and see your face twisting in pleasure. He wants to see your mouth open and drool all over your chin.

"Does my tongue feel good?" He mumbled against your cunt. His tongue now circling the edge of your opening.

"Good because I'm gonna fuck ya with it before I give you my dick" He growled from behind.

As he continued to tease at your entrance, he'll spit on it and use the pads of his fingers to rub it all over your dripping pussy — showing a little more attention to your clit. While he tongue slowly pushes inside you. He knows he's got you right where he wants you when he hears that little gasp you make followed by a moan. And how you seem to back up against him for more.

Your eyes close, and you grip at the bedding. All that embarrassment you were feeling was slowly fading away as logan sunk his tongue deep inside your pussy. His warm tongue moved and lapped up the mess you were creating on his mouth. He hears you whine and can feel your walls contracting around his wet muscle. He knew you were holding back your release until he said it was okay to let go. You were so perfect, too good to be true. He couldn't deny you.

"be a good girl and cum for me. I want you to."

After you cum hard to the point you're body is trembling. He'll come up and lean over your back, soothing his hand down your spine. " "shh shh, It's okay. I got ya. You did so well for me."

He won't stop talking you through your orgasm until he knows you're alright.

"Breath for me." Logan nuzzled the side of your face.

"There she is, there's my girl." He running his hand up and down your back, trying his best to relax you.

His voice was low and husky in your ear. He helped bring you back down to earth; sensing you were getting a little lost there for a second.

Once you're completely calmed down, he'll gently move you to lay on your back. Your legs dangling over the edge of the bed with him standing between them. His cock fisted in his hand as he slaps his leaking tip on your over stimulated clit. He loves to rub his precum all over that aching bundle of nerves he had been bullying all night. Your pussy glistening from your orgasm mixed with his spit. The messier he made you, the harder it seemed he got.

Logan loves watching your body twitch and hear those soft moans escape your lips. He takes forever to bury himself in you. He wants to see you lose control until you're a blabbering mess of empty promises. Promises you'll blurt out just to feel the head of his cock brush against your opening. Your juices dripping down to the curve of your ass and he licks his lips, wanting another taste. Logan would get you so worked up to the point that it was as if you believed he wasn't going to give you what you wanted.

"You gotta calm down." He coaxed you.

"You're making promises you can't keep right now, honey. I need you to relax. You really think I'm doing all of this to not fuck you?

He reassured you and ran his cock between your wet folds, spreading them apart. his tip nudging at your clit once more, making you bit down on your lip. Your hands stopped tugging at the bedding to reach out for him. You hissed at the sensation as your eyes filled with more tears.

"Move your legs up and hold the back of your thighs for me. Can ya do that?" Logan now commanded you.

All you could do was rapidly nod and do as you're told with your hands firmly gripping the back of your thighs — to keep your legs spread and pussy on display for him.

"Logan, I need you." You tried desperately to plead with him. You both had beads of sweat dripping down your body. Your head felt dizzy, and your chest was rising and falling faster.

Logan arched a brow at you. His way of asking if it was okay to finally split you open around himself.

"I-im okay." You stammered as you looked up at him. "I promise....m'ready."

His gaze softened as he slowly pushed his thick cock inside you. Both of you sigh in relief. Your walls hugged him so tight while he continued to push until he was completely buried all the way in you. He stilled for a few seconds to help you adjust.

"Fuck you're wet." He noted with his cock gliding in your pussy with ease.

Once he was fully inside and you were well adjusted, he didn't hold back. He began pumping in and out of you hard and fast. Your tits bounced as he picked up the pace. Your body was making the most vulgar wet sounds that seemed to only spur him on. Your moans grew needier and louder. You struggled to keep hold of your legs. Logan took notice of that and placed his hands on top of yours to help you.

"There we go, that better?" He bent forward a little more to whisper.

"Gettin close Lo," you whined, biting down hard on your lip.

"I know I can feel it." Logan loved when you warned him about your orgasm as if he couldn't feel your walls squeezing his cock tighter the closer you got.

Every thrust he gave, he hit your g-spot, making you lose your train of thought. A few more strokes, and you're cuming again more intensly than the last time. You're mewling and calling out his name. Your back arching off the bed but logan doesn't slow down. If anything, he seems to be going faster. Until he's spilling his cum all over your sensitive walls, as he milks himself inside you.

"You alright? Let me clean you up. Come on." He finally spoke up, out of breath as you laid there completely fucked out. But you managed to weakly nod your head yes.

"Can you walk?" He asked, you felt him gently pulling out and his eyes glanced from your face to where his cum was now dripping from your pussy.

You tried not to get embarrassed as his gaze seemed to focus on the mess he created between your legs.

Logan fought the urge to lick it clean from you. Or shove his fingers in your cunt to prevent anymore of his cum from spilling out.

When you didn't answer him again, he gave you that knowing look and arched his brow. Normally, he'd tell you to use your words, but he knew sometimes it was too hard for you to do.

You quickly shook your head. Obviously, you can't walk. You can't even feel your legs. He lets out a breathy laugh. "You'll do anything to get me to carry, huh?"

You gave him a small smile and tried to sit up.

He pretends like he's seriously complaining, but truth be told, all he wants to do is carry you. All day, every day, if you'd let him. He picks you up bridal style, carrying you into the bathroom where he sets you down at the end of the tub.

Your father had always been strict, ever since you were a little girl, and you recall he always had rules that everyone in the house was expected to follow. However, the moment you started high school you suddenly had your own set of rules.

Rules like no crop tops, no body piercings, nothing that would draw the attention of your classmates to your anatomy. The most important rule? No boyfriends. You knew it was mostly for your father’s own peace of mind, and you didn’t really care for the boys you had grown up going to school with since kindergarten, so you didn’t fight him too much on it. You weren’t boy crazy or anything anyway, so you didn’t understand why he would even worry.

Then everything changed when an old friend of your father’s moved back to the city. Logan was a mountain of a man, respectful and caring in a gruff way, he was quiet but knew how to make others feel at ease around him. Lord, did he have an effect on you. To say he was handsome would be an understatement, he was like one of those leading men straight off the cover of romance eroticas like your mom kept in her drawers. Yet he was genuine and kind, he always greeted you when you entered the room, he would bring by some trinket he thought you might like, he never dismissed you in conversations like your dad might occasionally do. You never questioned why Logan thought about you so often or why he looked out for you, you figured it was just an old friend trying to make up for lost time.

After a few months, Logan would stop by for Sunday beers, then you would come home from school to find him getting watching a game with your dad. “Hey, kid,” Logan would greet with a polite nod. “Good day?”

“Not terrible, we had a sub in math so that was a neat break.” You offer with a small smile and Logan chuckles at that as you walk towards the recliner where your dad is sitting to kiss his cheek.

“Another substitute? How many vacation days does that math teacher have?” Your dad asks and you give him a small shrug, already sinking into yourself like it’s your fault. “You’re not falling behind, are you?”

You quickly shake your head and say, “No, sir. We have a study group in the mornings to keep up with the unit.”

Your dad gives you what could be a hum of approval. “That’s the initiative you should continue to strive for, kiddo. Now go do your homework before your mother gets home and starts dinner.” He instructs and you nod, waving at his friend as you head towards the staircase.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Logan.”

As Logan watches you disappear up the stairs, he can’t help think that your old man could have tossed you an atta girl or some type of praise to let you know he was proud of you. It wasn’t his place, however, so he kept his mouth shut.

It made Logan ache to see you not being properly praised, like the good girl you clearly are, and that’s just not how he would do things. You noticed Logan would be especially kind after you and your father exchanged some words. Logan noticed the way you would wear clothes you didn’t really care for to appease your father’s rules, he noticed you would miss out on things with your friends because of your old man’s curfew. All Logan wanted was to give you some freedom, a little praise because you are a good girl, and you deserved to be treated like one.

One night, Logan stops by to drop off some charcoal for a cookout your father was planning for Easter and you answered the door for him. Your eyes were sad and wet, your bottom lip slightly jutted out as you greeted him with a soft little, “Hi, Logan.”

“Hey, kid, you alright?” Logan asks, moving past the threshold when you step aside and nod slowly. Logan drops the bag of charcoal off in the kitchen and makes his way back over to you, dusting his hands on his pants. “You ain’t gotta lie to me, darlin’, I ain’t your old man.”

Darlin’, the nickname makes your face warm, you like it. That type of soft spoken expression that makes you feel safe to share with him. Your eyes find his intense green ones and you sniffle as you shrug, hugging yourself in your crew neck sweater. “My dad and I just got off the phone a little bit ago. He wasn’t happy that I didn’t go to tennis tryouts.” You tell him, looking down at your mismatched socked feet, toeing at the floor.

“Don’t care for the sport?” Logan asks casually, not accusing, not demanding, just asking if it’s even something that interests you. You shake your head. “Then your father’s just gonna have to get over it. Better that you try at something you give a shit about than half ass something you don’t.”

“Wish he’d see it like that.” You mumble.

“I see it.” Logan steps closer and you look up at him with parted lips and your heart suddenly in your throat. “You’re a good girl, sweetheart. You know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t always know if I’m doing what he expects of me.” You admit, feeling like Logan is taking a weight out of your chest just by letting you vent about your strict dad. “I try so hard, Logan.” You sniff and he pulls you into his embrace as your eyes water again. You cry softly into his chest and he holds you, soothing you with soft coos while caressing your hair. “I-I’m n-not allowed to do a-anything fun and I-I don’t even understand wh-why,” You say between soft sobs, your little fists clutching tightly onto the back of his t-shirt. “I-I’ve never b-been rebellious or-or sneaky or done anything to not d-deserve his trust. I can’t e-even wear a damn crop-crop top.”

Logan can’t help a small chuckle at that and your reproachful whine is muffled in his chest which shouldn’t make his cock twitch in his pants, but it does. “You’re a good girl, you are, you just need to be shown how good girls should be rewarded.” Logan says and you tilt your head back to look up at him. “You want me to show you?”

“Yeah.”

Next thing you know, you’re straddling your dad’s best friend in the living room, face buried in his neck as he’s slowly encouraging you to ride his thigh.

“There we go, just like that, baby doll.” Logan praises, feeling the slight tremors in your body as he holds your waist and rubs your back soothingly with the other. “No one‘s ever made you feel this good, huh?” He asks into your ear and you shake your head, panting softly as your clit pulses with need. “Such a good girl, you need to be looked after more often. I can help with that, sweetheart.”

You peek up at him, bottom lip tucked between your teeth, soft whines leaving your mouth as your hips chase the friction he guides you to follow. “My dad is mean to me, Logan. He-he doesn’t love me, he just wants me to-to make him look good.”

Logan’s hands move over your back, one settling at the nape of your neck and the other on your hips, his thick thigh flexing subtly underneath your pulsing slit as you ride him to your release. Logan cradles you close as you tremble in his arms, gasping and moaning as you ride that wave with his help.

“Then I’ll be your daddy, baby girl.”

From that point on, the dynamic between you and Logan changed dramatically. It wasn’t obvious, you were subtle about the extra attention he was giving you behind your father’s back. Now, however, whenever you and your dad got into a tense back and forth, whenever you felt overwhelmed with your studies, whenever you needed to feel more valuable, you didn’t pout and cry in your room. Now you went straight to his best friend’s arms.

“Slow, baby, don’t get too loud.” Logan whispered into your hairline as you were rubbing your pussy against his bulge. The thin cotton of your panties was soaked through and you were whining softly, gasping against his neck as you reached another release.

Logan had come over while your father was still at work to make sure you ate something and had someone to talk to after school. The gesture made you clingy and you asked him to cuddle in your bed for a little bit. Now you were sitting in his lap, stripped down to your panties and socks, letting Logan knead and kiss at your bare breasts while you got yourself off on him. “It’s-it’s so good, daddy! It feels so good, I-I want more.”

“Use it, sweetheart, make yourself come. You feel how hard it is, huh? How hard you got daddy just sitting here letting him touch you?” He coos, kissing your cheek and jaw, nipping his way down to your neck and you begin to tremble from your impeding orgasm.

“Oh, ‘m gonna - mmm, daddy - I feel it.” You whine, grabbing firmly onto his broad shoulders with your little hands, grinding helplessly against the hard erection in his pants. Your face nuzzles into his neck and you cry out as you feel that wave of pleasure overcome you.

“That’s my good girl, feel better?” He asks, cradling you against his chest, kissing your head and softly rubbing your back while you nod and smile up at him in a blissful state. “Always so proud of you. You’re such a fast learner, baby doll.”

“Thank you.” You whisper dreamily as you peck his jaw and cuddle into him during your come down.

Step by step, Logan takes it a little further as the days turn to weeks. You come home one afternoon to find a shopping bag on your bed. One from a store at the mall that your father had forbid you from even window shopping. Inside the bag you find a pair of denim shorts and a crop top that your father would ban from the house if he saw it. You know it’s from Logan and your suspicion is confirmed when you receive a text from him.

Logan (dad’s friend): You get my gift, baby doll?

You type back a response.

You: I did, I love it💕

Logan (dad’s friend): Send me some pictures when you try them on.

It becomes an unspoken arrangement, his taking care of you. Logan buys you the clothes you wish to wear, little gold earrings that you put on when you are out of the house with him or with friends, and he gives you sweet words and affection that you lack at home. Logan knows he’s probably crossing boundaries, but he sees how hard you try to be perfect and good, and he wants to take some of the pressure off. He wants to spoil you and be someone you can depend on, the only man you can depend on.

“You ever let any boys see you like this?” Logan asks one afternoon when he came over to spend time with you.

You shake your head, lifting it to look up at Logan from where you’re lying on your back while holding your thighs up, spreading yourself open for him. “No, daddy, I don’t like the guys here.” You are completely naked, trembling slightly from the anticipation of what Logan is about to do to you in your bedroom, in your father’s house.

Meanwhile, Logan is standing at the end of your bed, his hard cock out as he strokes it, boxers pushed halfway down his thighs, his shirt laid out underneath you “for the mess,” Logan had said before settling you down on your childhood bed how he wanted you. He’s trying to convince himself not to defile you like this, not his best friend’s daughter, but the way you’re staring up at him so willingly and trusting - he can’t risk some kid doing ruining your first time. It’s better that he does it, who better than a man that actually cares for you?

“You’re gonna pay attention and see how it’s done so you know what it should feel like, yeah? This isn’t all fun and games, baby doll, got it?”

“Got it.”

First, Logan touched you. Opened you up with his thick fingers as he inspected the perimeter of your little hole. It was pink and pulsing, glistening with want as his fingers brushed over your slit and circled your clit slowly. “You’re a virgin, baby doll, huh?” He asks and you give him a barely there nod as you watch his digits teasing you until you are wet and needy. “It’s gonna hurt a little, darlin’, but we’ll get through it together, yeah?”

“Yes, daddy.” Your voice is unrecognizable to you, breathless and soft in a way that tells Logan you are completely under his guiding hand.

Logan brings two fingers up to his mouth and licks your arousal off, eyes still on you. “Tastes so good, daddy’s gonna have a taste, okay?” You nod quickly, wide eyes watching as he kneels at the end of your bed and places your thighs onto his shoulders. His lips press into your thighs, kissing you and tickling you with his facial hair which makes you giggle and Logan groans at the sound in this context. “Sweet little thing.” His lips press to your clit and you shiver from the unfamiliar sensation.

His thumb continues to roll over your clit slowly while his tongue is exploring your clenching pussy, prodding at your tight entrance while moaning from the taste and scent of your sex. “Oh, daddy!” You moan, a small gasp leaves your throat as your head tips back and Logan gives you a light swat on your ass which makes you pop back up to watch him.

“Eyes on me, baby girl, remember?” Logan says sternly and you nod firmly, biting your lip as you watch his tongue circle your aching clit slowly. “You gotta pay attention so you see how it’s supposed to be done. Make sure any boyfriends that come along know how to give you an orgasm.”

Your head is spinning, too delirious with pleasure to realize that he’s not promising to keep doing this, he’s preparing you to be without him. “I don’t want any boyfriends, I want you.” You say, your big, wet eyes as you stare at him pleadingly.

“We can’t, baby, you’re too young, too good for a mean old man like me.” Logan says, spreading your folds open with two fingers and licking at your slit to make your tremble. “You’re going to marry a good guy with a trust fund and a career, you’re going to be kept like you deserve. You deserve everything good.”

You shake your head, but don’t argue because now one of his thick, long fingers is slipping inside you and you inhale sharply from the pressure. His digit curls in you and you moan as he presses on a spongy part of your insides. “Oh, shi-”

“No swearing, baby, too pretty for dirty words.” Logan says, watching your blissed out face while you watch his finger fucking into you.

“Mm, it feels so good!” You cry out. Logan leans down and kisses you softly while exploring your depths with one finger, getting you used to the stretch. A small gush escapes you and Logan groans, his mouth watering as he breaks the kiss to taste your arousal coating his digit.

“Gonna add one more, baby doll.” Logan tells you, sliding his hand back and slowly pushing into you again with two fingers now. You bite harder on your lip as the stretch is now accompanied by a sting. “There you go, that’s it. Nice and slow, does that feel good?”

“Yes, daddy.” You moan, wanting so badly to close to your eyes and writhe for him, but he has his other hand cupping your nape to make sure you’re watching every movement of his hand.

“Such a good girl,” Logan kisses you again, nipping at your lip and whispering sweet things to make you whine while he’s finger fucking you. “Your father’s got no idea how good you are, so obedient and smart. Fuck, and you’re tight as hell, baby doll.”

Your eyes drift past his hand between your thighs and you notice his cock, still hanging out of his boxers is throbbing and leaking, wet at the tip. The sight makes your mouth water and you lick your lips, your eyes finding his green ones as he’s watching you beneath him. “I wanna taste too.”

“Yeah, darlin’? Wanna have a taste of my cock?” He asks and you nod eagerly. “Lie back for me.”

Now, Logan is carefully straddling your chest, holding his cock against your face as you lick and suck on him. “There you go, take your time.” You suckle on his tip and Logan groans as he reminds himself not to shove down your throat. He lets you lick and kiss and suck on him for a little bit until he’s nearly at the edge. “You’re gonna get real good at that someday, but not tonight.”

You pop off him without a fuss as he moves his cock away from your mouth to settle between your messy, sticky thighs. “Here we go, baby doll. Nice and slow, let daddy take his time.” Logan’s throbbing, red tip glides between your folds, parting them as he burrows into your opening, dipping in slowly. “Fuck, it’s gonna be a stretch, darlin’.” Logan warns and you nod, too consumed in the way his thick girth looks while trying to bury itself into you.

His tip presses in and you whine as the fullness adds pressure to your core. “Oh, it’s so big!” You gasp, your hips sinking into the mattress as you run from the sting. Logan immediately follows, bringing you back with a hand under your ass and tsking at you.

“Good girls don’t run, remember?” He warns and you pout but nod. “You’re okay, you’re just not used to it. Relax for me, baby.” He encourages while kissing along your collarbones, nuzzling his nose in the hollow of your throat where he can feel your heartbeat. “I’ll make it fit, just leave that to me.” His lips finding yours and you melt into his kiss as one large hand returns between your legs to aid in the task at hand. You focus on his kiss, the way his chest rises and falls beneath your palms, how his large body blankets yours in safety. Logan’s cock sinks into your pussy inch by inch, each shallow thrust of his hips driving himself deeper and deeper until you’re trembling from how much you’re taking.

“Oh, ‘m so full.” You whisper, looking up at him eyebrows scrunched together in distress. “I’ve never-oh-never felt like th-this, Logan.”

One of his large hands comes to rest on top of your head, scratching your scalp softly while the other keeps your thigh gently pinned to the bed as he works himself through your little pussy. A rhythmic squelching sound quickly fills your bedroom and you whine from how his blunt head begins to bump into your cervix. “Mm, such a tight squeeze, baby doll.” Logan growls softly, his nose brushing over your jawline as you tilt your head back with an arch in your back. “Does it feel good? You like getting your little pussy stuffed by daddy?”

“Y-yes, daddy!” You whine, burying your face in his chest as your arms wrap around his waist and let him give you pleasure and comfort all at once.

“Oh, fuck, my little girl.” He groans, caging you under his weight as he pounds into you, chasing your release. “Come for me, come for me, baby doll.” Logan pants, his restraint crumbling as you beg and call out for him. The tightness in the depths of your belly unravels and your body shakes violently from your orgasm.

“Logan! Fuck!” You cry out and Logan growls, cupping your jaw in his hand and giving you a warning nip on your lip.

“No dirty words, baby.”

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, don’t stop, please!” You moan, your nails scratching down his back as your body convulses from the overstimulation as Logan follows his own release.

“You’re not on the pill, so no boys should be finishing in you, you hear me?” Logan says, lifting your body by your underarms as he sits back on his heels and brings you down onto his length. You nod your heavy head before dropping it on his shoulder where Logan cradles you while moving your hips for you, bouncing you along the length of his still throbbing cock. “I’m gonna finish in you because I can take care of you.”

“Yes, daddy. Just you.” You say in a breathless voice as he continues to effortlessly bounce you on his cock. “I l-love how you take care of me.”

“My sweet girl.” His release is thick and warm as he comes with a low growl in your ear, your cheek pressed to his hairy, sweaty chest as he fucks it deep into you. “All mine, darlin’, aren’t you?” His cock pulses inside you and you nod, swallowing hard and sighing as you feel so content and cared for.

“Mhm, all yours.”

Logan gives you a moment before he slowly lifts you by your waist so he can watch his spend drip down your thighs and onto your bedsheets. “Look at that, fuck, broke all of your daddy’s rules just for me?” You nod slowly, running your fingers through the sides of his hair and breathing softly as you reach for a kiss.

“You’re my daddy.” You say against his lips with a dazed little smile that makes Logan chuckle, but he doesn’t disagree.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

So waking up in some random woman’s waterbed was unexpected, yes, but even more unexpected was the bone cutting through his skin when he had to face those goons. It had been so long since the adamantium had been melded to his skeleton, that he could almost forget it hadn’t always been that way. If it weren’t for the pain that still haunted his every nightmare, that was.

It was an adjustment, definitely, especially because it had been so long since he hadn’t felt completely indestructible — untouchable. There was no metal safety net, here.

Seeing Xavier’s school falling apart was certainly an adjustment, too.

He had known this school only in its prime, when Charles had already formed the X-Men, had already settled many kids into their new home. Logan couldn’t ever imagine this place being so devoid of life.

“Can I help you?” A young man asked, after a few silent moments of Logan waiting for the door to be answered. He sounded vaguely familiar.

“Uh… yeah, what happened to the school?” Logan asked, eyebrows raised as his eyes trailed over the vines crawling up the building, the dust coating the glass.

The man’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Logan strangely before he decided to speak. “The school’s been shut for years. Are you a parent?”

Logan scoffed. “I sure as hell hope not. Who are you?”

“I’m Hank. Hank McCoy. I look after the house now.”

He’s doing a great job at that, Logan thought to himself, surveying the damaged grounds, before he clocked on to what the man had introduced himself as. He squinted at the small stature of the guy, half hidden by the door he was pressing himself into the gap of.

“You’re Beast? Look at you,” Logan commented idly, “Guess you’re a late bloomer.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hank warned, features hardening instantly at the name he hadn’t heard for a long time. “But I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The man started closing the door in Logan’s face, not expecting him to shove himself against it, keeping it open. They strained, muscles tensing on both sides, before Logan inevitably won without Hank’s extra strength that accompanied his transformation.

“Where’s the professor?”

“There’s no professor here.” Hank responded, before Logan soon managed to shove the door open, flinging him back.

“Professor!” Logan yelled into the empty house, hearing his voice rebound off of the walls. The echoing made him uncomfortable, and seeing the house that had been destroyed so long ago in his time was odd. It was familiar, and yet so different. Logan wasn’t sure he could ever get used to the empty manor, despite his many complaints about the kids at the school.

The moment Logan began to ascend the stairs of the manor, Hank leapt at him, freshly transformed. Logan was momentarily shocked by the appearance of his blue fur, but he quickly got over it, defending himself from Hank’s admittedly rather weak attack. The Beast managed to stun him, tackling him onto a table in the middle of the foyer, while the blue man hung from the chandelier above.

“Hank?” A voice called out, confused and slightly concerned. “What’s going on here?” He asked, descending the stairs and squinting down at the vaguely familiar man on top of his table.

“Professor?” Logan asked, surprised, sitting up on the table to make sure he was seeing things right.

“He doesn’t like to be called that.” A new voice said, coming from Logan’s left, and he startled, head whipping towards where you were standing. You were leant against the doorway, arms folded across your chest as you watched the situation unfold with unhidden entertainment.

His heart practically stops.

He hadn’t seen you for almost three years. Three very long, very difficult years.

Logan didn’t even want to think about the last time he had seen you. It had been one of the worst days of his life to date, and he’d had a lot of bad days. And yet, here you were, alive. Trying to tamp down your amusement, though it was written clearly on your face, evident in the slight curve of a smile that he had missed.

“You know this guy?” Hank asked Charles, who made his way down the rest of the stairs while Logan only continued to stare at you.

Charles looked at Logan with a vague sense of recognition. “Yeah, he looks slightly familiar.” He commented distantly, already appearing completely checked out of the situation. “Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.”

The sound of the glass above him clinking together brought Logan to his senses, reminded him that he had a job to do. And no matter how much he had missed you, your presence couldn’t get in the way of that.

“You can walk.” Logan stated, checking back into the conversation with shock still darting down his spine. He watched the Professor carefully, brows furrowed in thought.

“And you’re perceptive.” Charles replied dryly, “Which makes it slightly perplexing that you missed our sign on the way in. This is private property, my friend. I’m going to have to ask him to ask you to leave.” He said, nodding towards Hank who stared between the two men as if watching some sort of tennis match. He looked uncomfortable with the confrontation occurring. “Or her, if you’re more inclined.”

You raised your brows.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

Logan didn’t end up leaving, much to your surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had managed to get Charles to do anything he didn’t want to do. Hell, it had been a long time since anyone had managed to speak to the man, save for you and Hank. He turned everybody away, never heard anyone out, no matter how desperate they sounded.

Instead, Charles seemed to accept the fact that this man was from the future. A future which sounded dire, by the way.

And if his glance towards you when he had spoken about watching good people, friends, die, told you anything, it was that you didn’t make it very far in the future. Which didn’t faze you all too much. It didn’t sound like much of a future for those who lived, anyway. But that knowledge had taught you something about this Logan. He had cared for you, some years from now.

It was as clear as day. He looked at you like he had been missing you, like he was greeting you at the airport after a long trip. He seemed to think he was being discreet about it, always glancing away when you turned to him, but you were observant.

You sidled up next to him while Hank went on the hunt for the phone book, and Charles wandered off to regret his decision.

“So, how’d I die?” You asked, feeling bad but also slightly amused when Logan practically choked on air.

“What? How did you—”

“Oh, please. It’s all over your face. I may not know you, but I can see that much.” You responded, cutting him off and watching the cogs turn in his head.

You had always had a strange way of reading him better than anyone else. Not that this version of you knew that, but Logan did. It made his chest ache all the more, feeling like you were so close to being in his grasp, and yet so far away from him. He had to remind himself that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t exactly know this version of you.

You seemed… not happier, exactly, but something was different. Perhaps you had suffered less at this point in your life. He had met you in one of the most difficult times you had ever been through, and it was strange to see you without the baggage that had followed you from that.

“I’m that transparent, huh?” He replied, going quiet soon after. He didn’t want to talk about this with you. With anyone. He didn’t want to relive that moment any more than he already did. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, every time the Sentinels had approached in the future.

“You are.” You paused. “So? What happened?”

“You don’t want to know about this, kid.” Logan stated, pointedly not looking at you. You were so young now, and he missed the lines on your face. This wasn’t the you that he knew or loved. He didn’t know this version of you. And you certainly didn’t know him.

Logan had the fate of the world resting on his shoulders, the fate of every mutant and human who had the decency to be kind towards them. Your fate. The fate of everyone else he had lost. He couldn’t get caught up in this, in seeing you here, as much as he wanted to soak in the sound of your voice, the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin.

“Why not? We’re going to save the world anyway. It can’t hurt.” You said innocently, regretting the latter part of your statement the moment you realised how it came across, how Logan’s face creased.

He wanted to appreciate your optimism, mostly because he knew how much of it you had lost by the time you died, but you couldn’t understand. It did hurt. Logan had watched you die in front of his very eyes, his adamantium and courage powerless to stop it. He had been dragged back to the jet, forced to leave your body there to rot, or to be taken and experimented on. He didn’t know which was worse.

Even now, he could feel the pressure on his chest from Storm pushing against him, the pain of Magneto pulling at his skeleton, forcing him to leave you behind.

He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, eyes flickered across the room, never quite landing on you. It hurt him every day. He could feel the weight of your loss even now, knowing that if he failed to do this, you were lost. This version of you, the one who had so much suffering to come, would die at the hands of a Sentinel, and he would be powerless to stop it.

“Sorry,” You said, when the silence stretched on, Logan seemingly getting lost in his own thoughts. You could see the pain written across his face, could see him getting distant, reliving whatever had happened in the future. “That was insensitive. I was curious, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here to save us all. And I’m here to help this time.”

He finally looked at you, and you could see the exhaustion on his face. Perhaps putting more pressure on him wasn’t the best idea.

“Okay, I’m messing this up,” You admittedly, fidgeting nervously now, eyes flickering between him and the door as if expecting Charles or Hank to walk in on you embarrassing yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Logan paused, apparently trying to find his words. “You don’t need t’be sorry. None of this is your fault.”

You looked at him, seeing him more clearly then. You didn’t know his past, and you certainly didn’t know the future, but this man cared about you. That much was obvious. “It’s not yours either, you know.” You said, and the slight grimace he made didn’t escape you. He clearly didn’t agree. “However we know each other in the future, it can’t change the fact that I am an adult. I would never expect you to take responsibility for me dying. Or want you to! I take care of myself.”

He blinked at you. “We were meant to take care of each other.”

You faltered slightly at that, struggling to imagine yourself relying on someone that much, but then you understood.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? You’re here, fifty years into the past, trying to make things right. The war wasn’t your fault, Logan.”

Despite knowing that was true, it still didn’t quite dislodge the guilt that pulsed in his chest. He felt more vulnerable here, without his adamantium. With your prying eyes. Even now, it appeared that you saw him in a way nobody else ever could.

“You know what? This might be totally inappropriate, but…” You trailed off, and he had just opened his mouth to question you when suddenly you were wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing him close in a way that finally let him breathe again.

His hands hung idly by his sides for a few moments, before finally wrapping around you, holding you tight. He seemed as though he may never let you go, but you could understand that. Logan was in pain, and it seemed that despite your slight uncertainty, this had been a good path to go down. Taking care of one another, or something like that, right?

A heavy sigh left his chest, and you squeezed him tighter, letting out a short breath into his neck. You only pulled away when you heard Hank’s footsteps creaking on the aged floorboards, heading your way. Logan let you go, with much reluctance, but you lingered. Your arm brushed against his jacket.

If Hank noticed anything, he didn’t say a word, simply holding up the phone book victoriously. You glanced at Logan, watching the creases slowly come back to his face as he was reminded of his burden once more. You leaned against him the slightest bit, and pretended not to notice him glance at you.