donut

VAN HELSING X GN!READER thumbnail made by me

Word count: 1,472 words. Reader's pov will be pink and Van Helsing's pov will be purple Tags/Warnings: Gabriel Van Helsing x Reader, Hugh Jackman as Van Helsing, Werewolf Transformation, Graphic Gore, Body Horror, Blood and Bones Cracking, Flesh Ripping, Horror, Angst, Fluff before Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Intimacy, Reader POV, Werewolf!Van Helsing, Screaming and Crying, Begging for Mercy, “It Hurts Make It Stop”, Reader Refuses to Leave, Monster and Man, Caged Beast, Cliffhanger Ending, Hugh Jackman Werewolf Summary: Locked beneath his mansion, Van Helsing writhes as the curse takes hold — bones snapping, flesh tearing under the moon’s rise. He begs you to run, but you stay, trembling yet steadfast, clinging to the man still buried inside the beast. A tale of horror, devotion, and the fragile line between love and ruin.

hi! so today i’m not posting about logan/wolverine, but about van helsing. i’ve been a sucker for him as a full-on werewolf (even after he got cured in the movie) ever since i was like 6 or 12, whichever. and honestly, i can’t seem to find any van helsing fanfics out there (or maybe they exist and i’m just blind lol). so i thought—why not make one myself? in my version, he ends up married to the reader after failing to find a cure, but still managing to kill dracula. now every full moon, he transforms painfully, locked away in a cage beneath his mansion. (ENJOY!)

The iron bars felt cold against your finger as you knelt in front of the cage, where Van Helsing sat, all chained up and trembling with fear. His long hair clung damply to his forehead, his chest rising and falling too quickly and he was scared. With each deep breath was shallow and he looked less like the hunter you had always known more like a wounded animal, coiled with fear of himself.

You reached through the bars, brushing your fingertips lightly against his knuckles. “I’m here, Gabriel…you’re not alone.”

His dark eyes flicked up into yours, soft for a fleeting second. “You shouldn’t be here…my love…” His voice was low, strained and trembling with a weight he couldn’t carry. “My love…when the moon rises- I won’t be me. I’m not the Gabriel you once know off…”

“I don’t care,” you whispered, sliding your hand into his through the bars. “I’ll stay here you, no matter what.” Gosh, you are so stubborn but you didn’t care.

Van Helsing closed his eyes, exhaling shakily as he pressed his forehead to the bars between the two of you. “You’re too kind for this world, sunshine.” He murmured, almost like a confession, almost…like he didn’t deserve your touch or your affection.

For a while, you sat like that in front of him between the bars, whispering little things with your sweet voice that seems to have sooth and grounding him for a moment. His thumb grazed over to your hand, clinging as if you were the last tether to humanity he had left.

But then, outside, a silver of silver crept across the sky. The full moon.

The first sting hit him like fire beneath his skin. He jolted, body seizing and fingers would tightened so hard around yours and it hurts.

“G-Gabriel-!” you raised your voice with concerned.

He groaned, a sound that is more beast than man, before he shoved your hand away. “Go! Get out!” His eyes snapped open, wild with pupils shrinking as the moon’s light touched him. “I can’t- I can’t hold it back!”

You froze there, heart hammering but your feet refused to move. “I’m not leaving you.” Damn it to hell, why are you so stubborn when he told you to get away?

His scream tore through the stone chamber, ripping the air apart. His back arched violently as his spine cracked with a sickening POP-POP-POP, each vertebrae reshaping. His shoulders contorted, bones snapping and jutting beneath his skin and with splitting muscle and flesh.

“AAAHHH-GOD, IT HURTS! MAKE IT STOP!” His voice broke into a guttural roar as his jaw snapped out place, teeth elongating with the sound of shattering bone. Blood dripped from his mouth, running down his very chin.

You stumbled back but didn’t run as your hands were trembling so hard you can barely hold them to your mouth. “Gabriel…” you whispered as you watched him transforming. You were horrified and voice quaking in fear.

His skin split in jagged seams, tearing open with sickening wet rips, fur bristling from beneath like needles. His fingers bent backwards until the bones were cracked out from their sockets, claws would ripped through his nailbeds with bloodied edges.

“GO-“ he roared at you, slamming against the bars with his half-human, half beast body. His screams were so raw, very much pained and you felt them shattering through your ribs. “PLEASE- MY LOVE…IF YOU STAY- I’LL KILL YOU!”

“No! Gabriel, I will not leave you!” The words burst out of you with breaking gasps and tears streaking down your face. “I can’t!”

His bones kept breaking, you watched in horror as his chest expanding with a hideous crack as ribs splintered and reformed. Van Helsing dropped to his knees, clutching at his skull, raking bloody furrows down his face. “It’s inside me…tearing me apart!” he howled while gagging on his own blood. “I…don’t…want…to…hurt…you…”

Your body trembles violently as you clung to the bars, “I know you’re still in there…Gabriel…fight it!”

But the man you knew now was dissolving before your very eyes, devoured by the monstrous agony. His screams had turned to bestial snarls, saliva and blood dripping from his teeth as his form finally collapsed forward into the monstrous wolf.

The silence after was deafening…

You stood there, still, not knowing what to do while gripping the bars tightly. Your heart still begged for the man you had known just minutes before but only to be stared back at you from the cage was a beast, panting, trembling and hungry.

Van Helsing or…so call “The Beast”, panted heavily with steam rising from its body in the chill stone chamber call a cage. Blood still dripping from the shredded remnants of his human skin clinging to the fur, the evidence of his torment staining the floor in the dark pools.

Your breath hitched. He was extremely massive than the other wolves you see normally…but not him. He towered over you even while crouching on all fours, muscles coiled with the raw power, claws scraping the stone floor as he shifted. His amber eyes glowed in the darkness. He was showing no human traits but as soon as his gaze falls onto yours through the bars…he froze.

“…G-Gabriel?” as you said it not louder than a whisper but slightly trembles.

With a blink of an eye, the man you knew lunged at you, slamming into the iron cage so hard the ground shook. You stumbled back with a scream; your heart was lurching into your throat. His jaws snapped inches from your face, merely by an inch. His blood-flecked from his jaw with saliva spraying across your cheek. His growl rumbled like thunder vibrating through the air.

But then…he stopped.

His claws, which had been digging furrows into the iron, loosened. His growl faltered into something else, something closer to a whine…guttural and strangled. His muzzle pressed against the bars, his amber wolf eyes locking onto yours. Those eyes…still golden and yet predatory flickering with something familiar. Something broken.

“G-Gabriel?” you tried calling him again with tears streaming freely down your face now. “It’s me…I’m still here.”

The werewolf snarled then snapped his head back as if he was fighting himself. Claws gouging the stone. His body shook violently, not with the shift but with restraint. He roared, a deafening, beastly cry that rattled the cage but beneath it…you could hear it; words caught in the sound, ripped apart by the wolf’s throat: “…Grrr-run…please…”

Your knees buckled, the horror of it shaking through your bones. He was still in there. Still fighting.

You pressed your trembling hand to the bars, even as every nerves screamed for you to flee. “I’m not leaving you, Gabriel. You can fight this…you are fighting it.”

Van Helsing backed away, pacing in the shadows of the cage, claws clicking against the stone, muscles rippling with feral energy. His eyes never left you, wild and desperate. He looked like he might throw himself again against the bars, tears through and can end you in a heartbeat.

But he didn’t...

Instead, he slammed his head against the wall with a guttural cry, as if he was punishing himself, trying to crush the beast back into submission. Blood smeared the stone walls of the cage, he chest was heaving and torn between hunger and agony, between the monster and the man.

You pressed closer the bars, trembling but defiant. “Don’t you dare give up on me. You hear me!? Don’t you let that beast win! I don’t care how much it hurts, you are still you…you are still my Gabriel Van Helsing.”

He snarled again, staggering as his body coiling with tight rage. For a moment you thought this was it, that he would lose himself completely, break free and end you here and there-

But then…he froze.

His great frame lowered to the floor, fur bristling, claws digging into the stone as though holding himself down. His head dropped while his muzzle pressed to the bloody ground, chest would heave heavily with monstrous breaths. His golden amber eyes stayed on you, but now they burned less with hunger…and more with torment.

It was him. You know that it was him in there, in that beastly furred body. Somewhere in there, it was still him.

And you, still shaking, still yet terrified, stayed kneeling before the cage.

“I’m here,” you whispered, voice would crack but steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The werewolf let out a sound, not quite a growl, not quite a sob…before collapsing fully onto the floor while his body trembles under the weight of the moon’s curse.

Pairing: Logan Howlett (The Wolverine) x FEM!Reader Rating: NSFW / 18+ | NO MINORS Word Count: 3150+ Warnings: Tattoo scene, possessive behavior, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, mild marking, intense emotional intimacy, soft dom!Logan, rough sex, breeding kink hints, praise kink, Logan being obsessed, a very devoted reader Summary: Logan heads out on a mission with the X-Men, but you’ve got a surprise for when he gets home—a tattoo of his name inked into your hip. His reaction? Feral.

You stood in the soft morning light, watching as the shadows danced across the cabin floor. Logan, your muscular, fur-covered boyfriend (his damn forearms alright), was finishing up his breakfast and his eyes glancing over to meet yours. You both shared a knowing smile, the kind that spoke of intimate secret and unspoken promises. The air was filled with the sweet scent of coffee and the faint sound of distant chirping birds.

“I’ve got to get going,” Logan rumbled, his deep voice a comforting presence in the quiet room. He got up from the table walking towards you, leaned over and gave you a kiss, his hand coming up behind and squeezing your ass gently. “I’ll be back before you know it. Try not to miss me too much, darlin’.”

You giggled and playfully smacked his hand away, “I’ll try…but no promises.” You watched as he grabbed his leather jacket and swung it over his broad shoulders, the fabric stretching over the powerful muscles of his arms. “Remember, if you get too…distracted during the mission, just think about me waiting here. Alright?”

Logan’s eyes darkened with desire and he leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more urgent. His breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, “I’ll be counting the minutes.” With a final squeeze, he turned and headed out the door, leaving you alone to the quiet solitude of the cabin. You felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of the surprise you had planned. The anticipation of his was almost too much to bear.

Happily, you turn around running to the bathroom and took a quick shower to wash away the lingering scent of your goodbyes with Logan. After a while finished, casually dress with shorts and an extra sized shirt. Swiftly grabbing your phone and called a cab. You had done research and knew exactly where you wanted to go. Not long before your cab arrives and you entered. Your heart raced with every block passed, wondering if this was truly the right decision or not. But the thought of looking at Logan’s face when he sees the tattoo was enough to keep your resolve strong.

The cab driver soon to have made it in front of the tattoo shop and dropped you there. You look up then down to your phone double checking if the location you were dropped off was correct. Once done, you entered inside the shop and was greeted by the tattoo artist, a burly man with a wild beard and piercings. The walls were adorned with intricate designs and the smell of ink and leather filled the air. You felt a jolt of excitement as you saw the needles and ink pots neatly arranged on the counter.

“Hey there pretty lady, what can I do f’you today?” the artist asked, eyeing you up and down.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before replying back. “I want a tattoo. Can you do a simple script of my boyfriend’s name? Logan Howlett? On the side of my hip?” you pointed to the spot you had chosen. The artist’s eyes widened in reconition.

“The Wolverine? You’re dating him? He asked, since not everyone knows about the love life of The Wolverine himself.

You nodded, cheeks blushing slightly. “Yes, w-well it’s a surprise for when he gets back from his mission.”

The artist whistled lowly. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that. But for a man like him, I’m sure it’ll be worth it.” He sets to work, sketching out the design that you had requested. You sat in the chair with your heart thumping in your chest with each stroke of his pencil. You watched in the mirror as he expertly transferred the stencil on your skin, the cold sensation sending shivers down your spine.

The buzz of the tattoo machine filled the room, a stark contrast to the silence of the cabin you had just left. The artist began to work, his skilled hands moving with precision as the needle punctured your flesh ; leaving a trail of ink in its wake. You clenched your fists, gritting your teeth against the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain that Logan had endured, you told yourself and you were doing this for him.

The minutes stretched into an hour, the artist’s focus unwavering as he worked. You could feel the sweat trickle down your back but you didn’t dare move. Each stroke brought the image of Logan closer to reality on your skin, a declaration of your love and loyalty to the man who meant everything to you. (for you?)

Finally, the artist stepped back, wiping the excess ink away with a cloth. “Alright, take a look,” he said, his voice holding a hint of admiration.

You glanced down on your hip, heart fluttering and you were blushing hard. The tattoo was perfect, so perfect. The letters of Logan’s name curved gracefully against your skin, the ink was a deep, rich black. It was a simple yet powerful declaration of your love nestled just above the curve of your ass. You felt a sense of pride and excitement, knowing that you had just made a permanent mark on your body for the man you adored.

You thanked him while paying and tipping him generously for his discretion, you stepped out from the tattoo shop and into the bustling city street. The sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow. With that you took a deep breath and hailed another cab, eager to get back to the cabin and prepare for Logan’s return.

Once back, you put on a part of loose-fitting shorts to cover up your new ink and settled onto the couch waiting for him to return. As the hours ticked by slowly, with each moment felt like an eternity as you replayed your goodbyes in your mind and imagined his reaction to your surprise.

Few moments later, the sudden roar of an engine outside snapped you out of your daydream. You could feel the vibrations of Logan’s motorcycle through the floorboards, signalling his return. Your heart raced as you hear the crunch of gravels and the thud of his boots on the wooden steps. The door creaked open, and in he walked, the scent of the leather and the exhaust fumes mingling with the cabin’s cozy warmth.

“Hey, babe,” Logan called out, his eyes scanning the room. You took a deep breath and called out to him, your voice steady despite your racing pulse. “could you come over here for a second?” Logan’s eyes found yours, and you felt a thrill run through you as he stalked over, his movements fluid and predatory. “What is it?” he asked with a hint of smile playing on his lips.

You took a step back and your heart races even faster. “I want to show you something but you have to promise me to close your eyes. Can you do that?” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan raised an eyebrow as his curiosity piqued. He obeyed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a deep breath. Your hands trembled slightly as your pulled your shorts down just enough to expose the fresh tattoo. Your anticipation was palpable, your breath hitching as you waited for his reaction.

“Okay, you can open them now,” your murmured, with your eyes locked on his face.

Logan snapped his eyes open and for a brief second, his eyes searched the room looking for the surprise but then his gaze dropped to your hip. His expression shifted from curiosity to astonishment. The sigh of his name etched onto your skin cause his chest to tighten and caught a breath in his throat. A fierce wave of possessiveness washing over him. He reached out, his rough fingertips tracing the letters of his name with a gentle touch that seemed at odds with his usual gruff demeanour.

“You…you got my name tattooed on you…,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded as your cheeks flushed with excitement and apprehension. “It’s to remind you of me whenever you’re out there, fighting,” you explained, your voice trembling slightly. “So you will never forget how much I love you.”

Logan’s eyes never left the tattoo, his thumb brushing over the ink in a silent caress. Slowly, he bent his knees and brought his face closer to the mark, his hot breath causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. He places a tender kiss on the freshly inked skin, his lips lingering for a moment before he looked up at you with a fierce love shinning in his eyes.

“I could never forget you, darlin’,” he rasped, his grip on your hips tightening. “This is…incredible.” He stood up abruptly and lifted you off the floor as if you weighed nothing. His eyes still filled with disbelief and awe. He crushed you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like steel bars. His mouth found yours, and you both kissed with a passion that could have set the cabin ablaze. His tongue danced with yours, tasting your sweetness and claiming you as his own.

As you both broke apart, he carried you towards the couch, setting you down gently. The leather was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of Logan’s body. He sat beside her with his hand never leaving you hip, his thumb tracing the letters of his name. “This is so fucking hot,” he said, voice a gruff whisper. “You’re mine, baby.”

The intensity in his eyes sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the list radiating from him, the energy in the room crackling with it. You leaned into him and reaching your hand up to caress the side of his face, feeling the rough stubble of his beard. “Always,” you murmured back, your voice thick with desire.

Logan leaned closer with his nose brushing against yours. His hand slid under your shirt with his fingertips grazing the smooth skin of your stomach before moving up to cup one of your breasts. He squeezed gently, eliciting a gasp from you. The tension between you both was palpable, a tangible force that seemed to pull you both closer together.

“I need to touch you…I need to be inside you,” he said, voice strained with restraint.

Your breath hitching as he pushed your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside. His eyes raked over your body, lingering on the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist before dropping to the tattoo. He leaned in, kissing the spot again, his tongue tracing the letters of his name with a tenderness that made your toes curl.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your shorts. He unbuttoned them with ease, his fingers slipping under the fabric to touch your skin. You gasped as he pulled them down ; exposing you completely to his hungry gaze. His hands roamed your body with every inch as if he was worshiping you. Each touch was a brand, searing you with the heat of his desire.

You could feel the claws threatening to break through his skin, his passion so intense it was almost feral but you know he would never hurt you. This was his way of showing your how much you meant to him. Your own hands weren’t idle as you unzipped his jacket, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt, sliding underneath to feel the warmth of this bare chest. His abs contracted under your touch with his muscles tightening as you traced the lines of his torso. He groaned, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before he opened them again, the hazel in them burning with need.

Logan stood up, his eyes never yours as he began to strip, his movements were deliberate and slow. His shirt came off, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. His pants followed, pooling at his feet to expose his arousal, thick and straining against the fabric of his boxers. You couldn’t help but lick your lips as you took in the sigh of him, heart was racing in you chest.

Logan stepped closer with his hand reaching down to remove your panties, his claws extending just enough to slice through the material without harming you. The cool air hit your wetness making you gasp. He took a moment to appreciate the sigh of you, laid bared and vulnerable before him, his eyes lingered on your tattoo long enough. The possessiveness in Logan’s gaze made you feel cherished and claimed in a way you had never been before.

With a gentle tug he pulled you closer to the edge of the couch, his knee pushing your legs apart. Dropping to his knees, his mouth watering at the scent of the your arousal. “I’m going to make you scream my name,” he promised, his voice low with a seductive rumble.

As Logan leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste you and you arched your back with a moan. His mouth moved over you, kissing and licking, his teeth grazing you sensitive flesh. You could feel his claws digging into the cushions, his control a testament to his love and respect for you. Your hips rocked against his face, you reached over to bury your hands in his hair as you lost yourself in the pleasure he provided.

The living room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing mixed with logan’s. The occasional murmur of his name on your lips as you cry out. Your grip in his hair tightening, urging him closer and guiding him to the spot that would make you legs tremble. His mouth was relentless, tongue swirling and flicking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, he pulls back from you, leaving you gasping for air. “W-why did you…stop?” you managed to talk out. Logan stood up with his eyes never leaving yours, as he ripped his boxers off revealing his erection. It was a beautiful sight of his desire for you. He climbs on the couch, positioning himself between your legs, tip brushing against your wetness as you let out a gasp.

With a single thrust without any warning, he was already in you, pounding you, filling you completely. Your nails dug into the leather couch, arching your body upwards to meet his as he began to move. His strokes were deep and powerful, his hands gripping your hip as he moves with quite a rhythm that made the whole room shake. The sound of your skin and his skin slapping together and the mingled moans filled the cabin.

With logan’s powerful thrusts continued, you tried to voice your pleasure but was silenced by Logan with a firm hand over your mouth, his eyes met and locked onto yours. His other hand sliding down, he callously and gently caressed the tattoo of his name with his thumb on your hip. His possessive gaze never leaving the ink as he claims your body like treasure. His grip was gentle but the message was clear – you were his and this mark was your bond and him together –

You both grew intense, bodies moving in perfect sync. You could feel yourself climbing towards the peak with your eyes fluttering closed as the sensations overwhelmed you. But Logan wasn’t having none of it. So he gripped your chin forcing you to look at him, his eyes boring into yours as he drove into you even harder and faster. “Look at me, brat.” he growled. His voice thick with passion. “I want to see you come for me.”

Your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. His eyes blown wide dilated almost blinding as he thrusts deeper, hitting the spot that made your toes curl. You felt the beginnings of your orgasm coil in your belly, tightening like a spring ready to snap. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you tried to hold on to savor the feeling.

Logan’s hand moved from your chin to your hip, his thumb rubbing the new tattoo in a gentle, soothing circle as he watched your face contort with pleasure. He can feel you getting closer as your muscles tightening around him, and his own release was building. A pressure building at the base of his spine.

With a final, desperate moan, you shattered like glass, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. Your eyes squeezed shut and nails dug into the leather couch, leaving small imprints of your passion behind. Logan felt your climax around him, your warmth and wetness gripping him tightly as you rode the wave of pleasure out. Logan couldn’t hold back anymore and with a roar, he let go, his seed filling you up as he claimed you with his body.

The both of you lay there, panting and tangled in each other’s arms, yours and logan’s hearts racing in unison. The scent of your lovemaking with him hung in the air, mingling with the faint smell of ink from the fresh tattoo. Logan’s eyes remained on the name inked on your hip, his thumb continued to trace it gently. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through your entire being.

Both of you stayed like that for a moment, panting and trembling with each other’s hearts racing in tandem. Slowly, Logan pulled himself out and sank down beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed your forehead, your cheek, your neck and finally your lips. The taste of your lips still lingering on his tongue. “Thank you,” he spoke against your mouth. “For the tattoo, for everything.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the raw emotion in his voice. You turned to face him, your hand running down his muscular chest. “You’re welcome, baby.” You whispered back, your voice was still shaky from the intensity of the encounter. “It’s just a little something to remind you that I’m always here for you.”

Logan leaned in, kissing you softly. His hand slid down to your hip tracing the tattoo once more. “It’s more than just a reminder,” he said, voice filled with awe. “It’s a declaration, a promise…that you are mine.”

That possessive tone in his voice sent a thrill through your body. You snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The quiet of the cabin broken only by mingled breaths of yours and Logan’s. Sound of each other’s hearts beating in time.

“I love you,” you whispered back, your hand reaching down to stroke the fur on his arm. Logan’s eyes searched yours, the intensity of his emotions was clear even without the use of his heightened senses. “More than you will ever know, love.” He replies back with one last kiss on your forehead.

use your own imagination on which logan you wanted it to be

Note: Hi~ Donut here. This is a different kind of fic where earlier today I was scrolling down TikTok and came across a rugby match. Before the match starts, they were doing the Haka. So I thought to myself, Logan, a rugby boyfriend while doing the haka. I am being very mindful, but also letting my imagination run a little wild (and that’s the fun part of storytelling, aye?). I already know that Haka has deep cultural roots, display a tribe's pride, strength and unity. With that, I am approaching it with respect, and it is okay to weave it into fiction as long as it’s not mocking or misusing it.

Warning/tags: SMUT 18+, FEM!READER, unprotected piv, fingering, pet calling "doll / baby", mention of Haka

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Summary: Logan thought he was just joining a rugby match — big guys, big hits, no big deal. But the pre-game haka? All that chest thumping, thigh slapping, and tongue action? Let’s just say... the heat on the field wasn’t just from the sun, and Logan's definitely feeling some kind of way.

The Haka hit like thunder. You had seen it before-had watched Logan perform it countless times with that fierce, bone-deep pride…but tonight? Tonight, it felt different.

Logan stood at the front of the line, sweat already clinging to his skin, jersey taut over every hard line of his muscles. The fire in his eyes, the roar in his chest ; he didn’t just join the haka.

He became it.

His teammates stomped and shouted with him, a wall of war cries and energy. But Logan…boy, he moved like a man possessed, like a storm had crawled into his blood and begged for release. You felt your breath caught in your throat and heat pooling low in your belly as you watched him slap his chest, scream his defiance into the night sky and then -like instinct- look straight at you.

His eyes locked. Fire met fire. With just that, you knew, you were done for.

Logan wasn’t just fighting for the victory but he was fighting for you and you only.

The game started and it was violent, beautiful and gritty. Logan dominated-taking tackles like he didn’t fell any pain, moving like a beast through bodies and mud. Every time he ran, you saw the same look on his face as when he was inside you. Focused, wild and hungry and it made you ache.

By the time the game ended and Logan’s team won, you were already waiting for him near the side of the corridor. Just down the hall from the public restrooms. The area was dim, echoey and mostly empty looking. The kind of place Logan liked when he couldn’t wait ; when the need to overrode is everything else.

You then hear it, his footsteps before you saw him. Walking towards you heavy and fast as he locked eyes with you with fiery intents. He was there right infront of you now looking like he was just came back from war. Logan is still in jersey with grass stains on his knees and blood on his lips. He looks like hell.

He didn’t speak before he grabs you without any warning. One hand curled around your neck, pressing you gently but firmly against the cool wall. His other hand slipped under your shirt like he couldn’t bear another second without skin-to-skin contact. His mouth finds yours with hot, rough and needy passion. The kind of kiss that said I missed you, I need you, I’m going to fuck you right here and now.

“You watched me…” he growled, dragging his mouth down to your jaw, “standing there all soft and pretty while I tore myself open on the field.”

“I saw everything,” you whispered, eyes half-lidded. “I couldn’t breathe.”

“Good,” he muttered, dragging your pants down just enough for him to see. “Breathe through this.”

He didn’t wait.

He spun you around with one arm across your chest to hold you tight as he rutted against your ass, hips already grinding with barely restrained need. The hallway was too quiet, too exposed but neither of you cared. Logan dipped his hand between your thighs, fingers of his sliding into your wet heat and he groaned like it physically wrecked him to feel you like this.

“Fuck…you’re so soaked,” he growled. “You got like this just from watching me, didn’t you darlin’?”

You gasped while nodding as you were pressing back against his cock. “You don’t know what looked like out there…”

“Oh, I know,” he hissed, his hands down to shove his shorts down as he lines himself up. “And now I’m gonna remind you who that man belongs to.”

With a hard plunged into you, the stretch was deep and immediate as he sank into you. One hand fisting in your shirt while the other gripping your hip. He was deeply engulf with you, his grip was hard and tight as if he doesn’t want to break you if he didn’t hold back. But he didn’t, he slammed into you with full force, hips slapping skin and growling low

“Every scream, every fucking tackle…I had you in my head. Thought about bending you over right there on the damn field.”  he panted out rapidly.

“F-fuck, Lo..” you choked out, your fingernails digging into the wall, body rocky with every thrusts he is giving you.

“And now you’re taking it so good for me,” he muttered, kissing the back of your neck, almost tender as if it weren’t for how hard he was driving into you. “So fucking perfect.”

Not longer after that, you came hard, biting back a cry as Logan reached  around to rub you through it, whispering praise in a voice like gravel and thunder, He followed not long after, sinking his teeth gently into your shoulder as he groaned your name and came deeply inside of you, his hips finally stuttering to a stop.

Silence, broken only by you and Logan’s gasps. You stayed tangled together with Logan for a moment, before his arms wrapped tight around your waist, his breath hot against your neck. He doesn’t speak, just nuzzled closer to you, grounding you.

“You okay, doll?” he murmured eventually, lips brushing against your ear.

You turned in his arms, flushed and breathless but glowing. “Y-yeah…” you whispered. “But next time…maybe not next to the public toilets?”

Logan grinned, his cock spent and limp, “Couldn’t wait. You looked too damn good to ignore it, baby.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll relax, cuddle or bake my favourite cookie.” You said, hands caressing the side of his face, feeling the scars from the rugby field.

OLD MAN LOGAN X FEM!READER

Summary: your work got delayed and you have no one to come and pick you up so you called and ask logan if he could

Tags: Laura talking in Spanish, just pure moments of Logan, reader and Laura, lots of lots stickers planting

Word Count: 2.4k+

donut here! hello yes, hi, it has been awhile since i last post anything Logan x reader fic. i apologize for the extremely inactivity since my last fic of "The baby is coming!". after posting that i basically went off focusing on my life and such and gotten into a very bad situation in results of me admitted in the hospital haha...ANYWHOOOOO~ This is my third fan fic of Logan but old man Logan and is based on a twitter post i saw a month back. When i saw it, immediately gave me an idea to make this fic alive! Here is the link to the ORIGINAL twitter post https://x.com/ppoooooolvrmm/status/1898261412625240398

You stood in the dimly lit corridor of the office building, phone clutched tightly in you hand as you watch the clock on the wall ticked away at the very last few moments of the evening. You felt a twinge of annoyance. You had promised yourself that you’d leave work early tonight, but the pile of unfinished paper work had other ideas. You sighed then dialled in Logan’s number, your voice echoing softly in the empty space.

"Hey, Logan," you said, trying to keep the frustration out of  tone. "It's me. I know I'm supposed to be out by now, but work's running late. Can you come pick me up?"

On the other end of the line, you could hear the rustling of fabric and a faint murmur, probably from Charles. "Look, darlin', I'd love to, but I've got my hands full here with Laura and the Professor. Caliban's out scavengin' for supplies and I can't leave them alone."

Your heart sank slightly, you pouted out your bottom lips. "What about Laura? Can't she stay with Charles for a bit?"

Logan's voice grew gruffer, "I don't trust that girl alone with him. She's a handful, and the Professor isn't as sharp as he used to be."

"Please," You begged, with a hint of strained. "I really need you to come get me. You wouldn’t want me to be in danger do you?"

Logan sighed, the weight of his responsibilities evident in the silence that followed. "Alright, fine. But you owe me big time for this."

"Thank you, baby," You said, and you relief palpable. "I'll see you soon. Love you, Logan."

“Yeah…love you too, darlin’.” Logan grunted in response, ending the call. He looked over at Laura, who was sitting on the couch with Charles. She had a mischievous twinkle in her eye, holding a fistful of stickers that you had brought home from the dollar store. They were supposed to be a surprise for Laura's upcoming birthday, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Come on, kid," Logan said, taking the stickers from Laura. "We've got to pick up your soon-to-be-mom. And you're going to leave these here."

"Por qué no?" (“Why not?”) Laura protested, sticking out her lower lip. Logan raised an eyebrow. "Because I said so," he replied firmly. "You can't go around sticking things on everything." Laura pouted but obeyed, tucking the stickers into her pocket. As they made their way to the car, she couldn't resist peeking at them, her thumb tracing the shapes of unicorns and rainbows. Once they were on the road, she brought them out again.

"Can I put these on the car, Logan?" Laura asked, her voice hopeful. Logan's eyes darted to the stickers in her hand. "What? No, Laura, those are for your birthday. Not for my car."

But Laura's enthusiasm was infectious. "Por favor, Logan. No me gusta lo oscuro y aburrido que es tu coche.," (“Please Logan? I don't like how dark and boring your car is,”) she pleaded, holding up the stickers.

Logan sighed, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. He knew that if he said no, Laura would just find some other way to use them, and it might end up worse than a few stickers on the dashboard. "Fine," he grumbled. "But only a few, and not on the windows. I need to see where we're going."

Laura's eyes lit up, and she immediately began peeling the stickers from the paper backing, placing them carefully around the car's interior. She stuck one on the steering wheel, another on the gear shift, and a couple on the dashboard. Logan's grumble grew louder with each sticker, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. Laura's joy was a rare sight, and he didn't want to ruin it by being too strict.

As they drove through the night, the neon lights from passing billboards cast a colourful glow over the car, making the stickers pop even more. Laura chattered away in her broken English, pointing out landmarks and asking questions about the world outside the walls of their secluded hideout. Logan's answers were short and gruff, but he found himself enjoying the conversation more than he had in a long time.

Finally, they arrived at the office complex where you worked. Laura was practically bouncing in her seat, eager to show off their new 'sticker masterpiece'. Logan stepped out of the car, running a hand over his face, feeling the stickiness of the glue. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come.

As they waited for you to emerge, Laura grew more and more restless. She began fidgeting with the stickers again, sticking them to the car's windows, seats, on both of her arms and Logan’s favourite radio. Logan shot her a warning glance, but she just grinned back, her claws retracted.

"Logan…," Laura whispered, her voice filled with excitement. "Look what I can do."

With surprising speed, stepping out from the car and stuck a sticker on the inside of the windshield, right in the center of the hood. Logan's eyes went wide as he watched it peel off and stick again, leaving a smudge of glue on the glass.

"Laura, that's enough!" he barked, but she was already moving on to the next one. He stepped around the car, trying to catch her before she could do any more damage, but she was too fast. She stuck a sticker on the hood, another on the door handle, and even one on the tire. Logan couldn't help but chuckle, despite his frustration. Laura's spirit was something he hadn't encountered in a long time, not since... well, he didn't want to think about that right now. He opened the car door and gently pulled her back inside.

"Alright, that's enough," he said, trying to keep his voice firm but the hint of a smile giving him away. Laura's eyes sparkled with delight as she held up her stickers.

"But papito-," she protested, "I’m not done yet!"

Logan sighed, his eyes scanning the car's interior. It was already a disaster. He was growing tired and grumpy. He knew he should be mad and want to scold her to stop, but the sight of Laura having fun, even for a brief moment.

"Look," he said, taking the stickers from her. "We can't have these all over the car. It's not safe, and it's not right. You can't just go around sticking things willy-nilly."

Laura pouted, looking down at the stickers in her hand. "But it makes everything happier," she mumbled. She cuss at Logan in spanish which he doesn’t understand while looking at her with a stern expression.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "What did you just say?"

Laura's eyes went wide, realizing her mistake. "N-nothing, papi," she stuttered, her cheeks flushing. She knew better than to use that language in front of him, but she couldn't help it. She was feeling rebellious and playful, something she hadn't felt in a long time.

Logan's expression softened, recognizing the innocence behind her outburst. He leaned in closer, his voice low and gentle. "You know better than to talk like that, Laura."

Her eyes met his, and she nodded, looking slightly ashamed. "Lo siento, Logan…" (“I’m sorry, Logan”) she murmured. Off Logan and Laura entering the car where the insides was filled with more stickers than ever. Laura had gone a bit overboard but she couldn't help herself, she was just too excited.

As they waited, Laura's eyes darted to the stickers in her hand. She glanced at Logan, who was staring ahead, and then back at the car's interior. An idea began to form in her mischievous mind. If she couldn't sticker the outside of the car, why not the inside?

Without a word, she leaned over and slapped a smiley face sticker right on Logan's stubbled cheek. He flinched in surprise, his eyes snapping to her in the rearview mirror. Laura giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Logan's scowl deepened, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Laura," he warned, his voice low and rumbling. "You little...!"

But she was already peeling off another sticker, this one in the shape of a cartoon sun. She leaned over the seat and stuck it on the top of his head. Logan's grip on the steering wheel tightened, but he couldn't hold back the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. Laura was a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure. He felt a pang of something warm and unfamiliar spread through him, something that had been buried deep beneath the layers of pain and regret for too long.

"You're gonna pay for this, kid," he said, his voice gruff but his eyes dancing with a hint of playfulness. Laura then planted a sticker onto his lips, silencing him temporarily. He reached back to grab her wrist, trying to avoid any more decorations on his face, but she was too quick.

"Gotcha," Laura giggled, dodging his hand and sticking a star-shaped sticker on the tip of his nose. The game was on, and Logan couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia, remembering the days when he would play with his own daughter. His heart swelled, and for a moment, the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders.

"Alright, that's enough," Logan said, his voice laced with affectionate exasperation. Laura stuck her tongue out playfully, but she knew when to quit. She retreated into her seat, her eyes shining with excitement as she watched him through the rearview mirror. The silence between them grew comfortable, filled with the occasional giggle from Laura and the soft hum of the engine.

Just as Logan was about to scold Laura again for the sticker on his nose, your silhouette appeared in the distance, walking briskly towards the car. Laura's eyes lit up, and she whispered, "Here she comes."

As you open the car door, and your eyes widened as you took in the sight of the sticker-covered dashboard. "What the-" you exclaimed, half laughing. Laura's giggles grew louder, and Logan's grumpy facade crumbled entirely, a reluctant smile spreading across his face.

"Laura had a bit of fun while we waited," he said, plucking the sticker off his nose and tossing it into the backseat. You stepped closer, taking in the rainbow of stickers that now adorned the interior.

"Who did this to you and your beloved car?" you asked, trying to keep a straight face. Laura looked at you with a proud grin, holding up her sticker-covered hands.

"It was Laura," Logan said, his tone a mix of annoyance and affection. "Couldn't resist the urge to... 'decorate'."

You looked at Laura, who was now sitting cross-legged in the backseat, her face beaming. "You did this?" you asked with your voice filled with amusement. Laura nodded vigorously, holding up the stickers as evidence.

"Well," you said, trying not to laugh. "It certainly does make the car more... lively." As you leaned in and kissed Logan on the cheek, noticing the glittery unicorn sticker Laura had stuck there. "And it looks like you're enjoying it too."

Logan rolled his eyes, but his grin gave him away. Laura clapped her hands in excitement. "Yeah, Papi's happy!"

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Logan with stickers all over his face. You leaned in and peeled the unicorn sticker off his cheek, pressing it onto Laura's forehead. "There," she said, "now you match the car."

Logan's eyes narrowed playfully. "You're next," he murmured, reaching behind the seat to grab a sticker. Laura squealed with laughter as you leaned back, dodging his grasp.

"Not if I can help it," you said, swiping the sticker out of his hand and sticking it onto his forehead instead. Laura clapped, her giggles turning into full-blown laughter as she watched the two adults act like children.

"Okay, okay, you got me" Logan said, raising his hands in surrender. "I guess we can leave it like this for now. But we're gonna need to clean this up before we get home." He puts his hands back down onto the steering wheel. His other hand reaches over to your thigh and giving it a squeeze before keeping it there, absentmindedly rubbing it.

Your eyes twinkled with mirth. "It's fine, honey. It's just stickers. Besides, it adds a bit of... personality to the car." Reaching down giving his hand a squeeze back as you smile at him sweetly.

Logan huffed, but his heart was warming up to the idea. Pulling his hand back then turning the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. The car, once a symbol of their reality, now felt a little less dour. "Alright," he said, "but you're the one cleaning it up tomorrow."

You laughed and nodded. "Deal."

With that, Logan pulled out of the parking lot and onto the dark road. Laura's giggles had subsided into quiet contentment as she admired her handiwork, her eyes reflecting the colorful lights from the passing streetlights. Logan couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest. Despite the stickers, this was a moment of pure happiness, a moment that seemed so rare these days. Knowing that both you and Logan are going to be married very very soon, filled you with more love than ever. Happy even.

You reached back and placed a hand on Laura's leg, giving it a gentle squeeze. Laura looked up, her expression softening as she took in your understanding smile. In that moment, the three of you felt like a real family, something Logan hadn't felt in a long, long time.

And off Logan pressing the gas engine and drove off from the parking lot from your workplace. Laura giggling as she watched the sticker-covered car in the side mirror. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, you knew you had to capture this moment. So with that, you grabbed your phone and took a few snapshots of the interior, the stickers glinting under the streets, Logan’s face that are filled with stickers and lastly, Laura, smiling happily in the back seat.She grabbed her phone and took a few snapshots of the interior, the stickers glinting under the street lights, Logan's face that are filled with stickers and lastly Laura, smiling happily in the back seat.