hugh jackman/characters one shots/imagines

you being laura's best friend and having a crush on old!dark! logan 18+

You met Laura in her freshman year of college, moving into the dorm you were the RA, two years older than her. When you met her father you immediately had a crush on him, when you met him he had white streaks on the side of his temples, but his hair was mostly a dark chocolatey brown. Then his beard was salt and peppery, he was dressed in a flannel and jeans. You tried not to focus on the handsome stranger as you greeted the new student, and eventually your feelings for Logan were fleeting compared to your friendship with Laura. The two of you were both recluses, bonding over the fact that you hated parties. You bonded over having trauma, though both of your pasts were very different they were both rough. Though you couldn't compare your trauma to Laura's, she couldn't relate the feeling of isolation and anger.

When you graduated Laura was in her junior year, she was still living in her dorms, so her room at her dad's was free. Your job was going to be nearby so you started staying with Logan so you could start saving up money to get your own place. Logan was happy to open his doors for you, little did he know the trouble you would get him in. Walking around the house in only a t-shirt and booty shorts, he could always smell the lotion of your soft shaven legs. He started to wonder what it would feel like to rub his hands up your chunky thighs dimpled with cellulite. But you always smelt like lavender, that was your scent. Something he reveled in when he secretly used a little bit of shampoo, thinking for just a thought that maybe he was smelling your hair.

You were far too young for him, nearly two hundred years older than you, he has lived so much life and you have not. Though he knew about your past because of Laura, he never pried. He knew what it was like to battle demons, it was the reason why you hadn't been working much. The four years of college had worn you out, and you were lucky that you didn't have to pay rent. So if you didn't show up to work, though, you didn't really have to worry much. Logan was consistently working and trying to take care of you, always leaving cash on the counter. He'd leave breakfast in the microwave and fresh coffee brewed for you. It made you feel cared for, the fact that he was taking care of you, made him that much more attractive.

You knew who he was, and you knew about Laura's mutation. Though you had found the idea cool, it was something you reveled in. Because Logan wasn't showing it off like it was something he was proud of and you had to respect that. But you knew him as a hero, and he'd easily slipped into the role in your life. Though there were simmering feelings between the two of you, they wouldn't happen due to distance. Then he'd catch these little moments, you'd leave your door open while you were changing. He knew that it was wrong but his eyes were glued to the curve of your hips, to the way your belly lightly hung, the way your lacey black panties hung over your chunky hips, it should've been criminal the way your ass looked in the thong. Before you could turn your back, he was off to his room, walking into the ensuite bathroom and jerking off.

Then it turned into so much more, it turned into him accidentally opening your door. Purposely at the times after your shower or in the morning. Granted Logan would knock before opening the door but he wouldn't give you much of a chance to cover up. But it's why he's seen you naked and why his fantasies can be in more detail. Because he was utterly obsessed with you, the wet dream of you covering your breasts in your hands only wearing the tiniest pieces of cloth. He wondered who it was for but it was the first of his suspicions that you were seeing someone.

Little did he know about your sneaking around, when he wasn't home, you snuck into his bathroom. Turning on the shower and using his showerhead to get yourself off to the thought of him. One because your shower head didn't do that and two because you thought it was wrong and dirty. So you imagined him on his knees or wrapped around your body, holding the stream of your water to your clit. His rigid muscles, his almost natural smell of cigars. Imagine him turning your head, to look up into his hazel green eyes before sealing those soft lips on yours. Your hand would come up to his scratchy beard as you writhed against the sprayer. "Logan." You cried, rutting your hips and you promised that you almost felt his erection against your back. But as your orgasm bubbled to the surface before moaning loudly before laying against the shower wall that was cold, snapping you out of your fantasy.