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navs-bhat · 15 hours ago

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I’m wondering how Laura would react if reader and OldMan!Logan got into a fight? Maybe they tried to keep it away from her but unfortunately the girls too much like her father and ends up hearing most of it.

Ugh and imagine if she saw Logan storming off not realizing that he left you in tears…

(I’m feeling extremely angsty tonight.)

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, TRAUMA, ILLNESS, UNHEALTHY COPING MECHANISMS, SUICIDAL IDEATIONS & GOD (I guess????) Set before Logan gets, as nonnie put it, chest-fucked, so during the period of time everyone’s trying to escape the fucking Reavers while figuring shit out. It got too long so it’s under the cut

You don’t argue that often with Logan— your relationship is solid and although communication was rocky at first, he’s made significant progress and is able to hold a serious conversation without immediately jumping back into his defense mechanisms (misguided anger, deflection and ultimately fleeing were his initial reactions when you tried establishing proper communication about feelings in the beginning). His progress, however, is rendered completely useless when the conversation is about his rapidly declining health; he’s immediately on the defensive, body going rigid and eyes going dark, jaw clenched so hard you’re afraid he might shatter it— he hates thinking about his newfound mortality, not necessarily because he’s afraid of death (it’s actually quite the opposite, he seeks death in a way, longing for the pain and the nightmares to just stop once and for all) but because he knows that dying means leaving you on your own and that’s something he can’t bear to think about— the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you is immeasurable; it overwhelms him entirely because he knows that losing him would break you and it makes him feel physically ill to think about the consequences. So in true Logan fashion, he blows you off whenever you bring up your concerns, stating that he’s fine, and the anger he feels at himself and his body for failing him ends up being taken out on you through biting words he regrets as soon as they slip from his tongue.

“I’m the one who’s fuckin’ dying, for Christ’s sake, quit your fuckin’ yapping.” It’s a phrase he regrets uttering for multiple reasons: he hates being rude to you in any way, shape or form because you’re the last person who deserves to be subjected to his emotional constipation— you’ve taken all of his broken parts into your hands and pieced them back together with your unconditional love and unwavering patience, you’ve made him feel loved, you’ve made him feel alive, and most importantly, you’ve shown him that he doesn’t have to feel guilty or bitter about his existence. You’ve done so much for him throughout the years and he fucking hates himself for letting his emotions get the better of him like that. The other thing that bothers him deeply about his reaction is the verbal acknowledgment of his condition; it’s something that he somehow believes can be ignored, as if denying it could make it any less real. Acknowledging that he’s dying makes bile rise up his throat— it’s a bitter feeling, really, because he used to wish for death everyday before he met you, heart and mind torn to shreds from years of horrific abuse and unwavering violence; he even prayed to whatever God was out there, despite not being a believer, to just let him go, to free him of the chains of trauma that bound his psyche. His prayers were left unanswered, Logan only accumulating more trauma as the years went by— he can’t count how many times he’s cursed God for making him go through what he’s gone through, needing someone to blame and wishing for a way to end it all. Ironically, Logan’s immortality only seems to waver once he starts treasuring life; it feels like a stab in the back, a cruel joke orchestrated by God who finally decided to answer his prayers now that he wishes he could take them back. The feeling of betrayal only seems to further fuel Logan’s anger towards his illness, which, combined with the guilt he feels at the thought of leaving you alone, causes him to act out whenever you bring up the subject. You take offense in the words thrown at you, hurt by the reminder of his impending death and the way he navigates it, arguing back that you do this because you care about him, for fuck’s sake. Unfortunately, that only seems to make things worse, upsetting Logan further and bringing back years’ worth of feeling unworthy of your affections.

“That’s your fuckin’ problem bub. I told ya you shouldn’t waste your time with a man like me.” he physically winces as he utters those words, wishing he could unsee the way it makes your entire face crumble with despair— it’s a slap in the face, really, to be brought back to square one and have him reject you in this way. Logan flees before either of you can say anything else, slamming the front door behind him and walking in no particular direction until he feels like he can finally breathe again, leaving you in tears at home. Laura, although playing in her makeshift room at the time, hears the whole exchange as clear as day due to her enhanced senses, her fists clenching with rage when her ears pick up the sound of your stifled sobs. You feel her before you even hear her, your body tensing as a pair of small, skinny arms wrap around your middle, a head resting along your spine. After the initial alarm of feeling someone touching you, you can’t help but let out a watery laugh at just how easy it seemed for her to surprise you, turning around in Laura’s arms so you can look down at her. A frown is etched onto her features, lips puckered into an angry pout as she hugs you tighter, insulting Logan in spanish under her breath. It makes you laugh again, this time softly, your hand smoothing out her hair as you sniffle.

“I’m okay, Laura. I’m okay.” she glares up at you, unconvinced, giving you another squeeze and reluctantly allowing her features to relax when you gently run a fingertip across the furrow of her brows— despite not being together for long, you find that you’re able to soothe Laura quite easily; there is a connection between the two of you like you’ve never felt before, a bond that you feel like you were always destined to have. Your heart warms at the obvious way the child seems to care for you, wanting nothing more than to make all of her worries disappear.

“He made you cry.” her voice is so quiet that you almost miss it, a soft, indignant noise leaving her at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks. You sniffle again, free hand moving up to wipe at your eyes, the other caressing her hair lovingly.

“I know.” you don’t say that it’s okay because it’s not— Logan crossed a line that you thought had been worn down ages ago, and you’ll be damned before you ever teach Laura that hurtful words can be brushed aside so easily without an apology. It’s for her as much as for you; you’re aware that you deserve respect even when Logan is upset, and you’re not about to stomp down on your self-worth to coddle him when he’s done something wrong. He’ll apologize, you’re sure of it, but until that happens, you’re not going to pretend that his reaction was acceptable. It’s something you categorically refuse to do, and it’s one of the many reasons Logan fell in love with you in the first place. You know your worth.

“I’ll be okay soon.” you tell her honestly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She studies you for a moment longer before nodding her head, allowing you to lead her onto the couch where she curls up next to you.

You’re asleep by the time Logan starts walking back towards the house but Laura hears the crunching of sand and gravel under his shoes, quietly untangling herself from you and moving to the side of the door, frown back on her features. Logan barely has the time to pass the threshold before she’s on him, jumping onto his back like a feral animal and punching his shoulders repeatedly, growling when he grabs her and holds her still, visibly confused and irritated by her behavior.

“Don’t even think about it.” he warns her when she makes to bite the hand that holds her down, frowning down at her just as hard she does up to him. She struggles in his hold, trying to hit him again, making him grunt in pain.

“You made her cry, coño.” the words make Logan freeze in his tracks, eyes falling on your sleeping form on the couch, noting the way your eyes look reddened and the tear tracks on your cheeks. Nausea immediately strikes him like lightning, the expression on his face seeming to satisfy Laura as she stops struggling, frown still evident on her face. She sits up and watches silently once he lets her go, staying nearby to see the situation unfold.

You awake to a calloused hand gently running over the plane of your cheekbone, eyes opening to meet Logan’s remorseful ones. He’s sitting on the ground next to the couch, looming over you in a way that makes you feel safe like no one else ever could.

“Hey.” his voice is hoarse but soft, thumb swiping back and forth over your skin in a silent act of comfort. It makes you smile despite your grogginess, and you feel more than you hear Logan releasing a soft, relieved inhale through his nose.

“Hey.” you answer him just as softly, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes again, content to feel him again.

“I’m sorry.” the words sound heavy coming out of his mouth, a grim expression taking over his features as he wipes off the remnants of your earlier tears.

“I know.” you reply simply, turning your head to press a gentle kiss against the roughened palm of his hand. It makes him exhale shakily, shoulders squaring as he prepares himself for the discomfort of the following words.

“Didn’t mean to snap at you, baby. I just… I feel helpless, I guess, and it fuckin’ pisses me off. Never had to worry about dying and leaving you alone before.” he says the words slowly, trying to make the last sentence sound like a joke, tone falling flat. You can tell he’s uncomfortable with the discussion but he pushes through, causing you to feel a rush of sympathy— he’s trying, you know he’s trying, and that means something to you.

“I know. I feel helpless, too. But you have to remember that you’re not alone. Not anymore. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens, it’s you and me until the end.” he laughs wetly at your words, nodding his head and swallowing thickly before speaking again.

“I know.” this time it’s his turn to provide reassurance, the two little words more than enough for the both of you. The feeling of his warm lips connecting with your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, hand coming up to lay over the one he’s curled around the back of your neck.

“Kid’s kicked my ass for making you cry.” he mumbles against your skin, the amusement in his voice clear. It makes you snort in surprise, unaware that Laura had intervened before you woke up.

“Did she? Well, you kinda deserved it.” your answer is playful, tone devoid of its previous heaviness, your eyes meeting Laura’s over Logan’s shoulder for a brief moment before focusing on your lover once again.

“That I did.” he agrees simply, a soft, tender, apologetic smile on his face. You lean further into him when he kisses your nose, heart feeling lighter than it had in a while.

You were going to be okay.

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navs-bhat · 16 hours ago

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hello! Can I request a Logan x afab!reader who has chronic pain, and is having a flare up? If not that’s okay, have a nice day!

He hates seeing you like this—in pain, suffering, forced to stand by your side and pamper you as best he can because to you, this is normal.

He wishes it wasn’t, but it is.

He’s trained himself to see the signs; shaky breaths, wobbly legs, that half-smile you give when you’re clearly in pain but you wanna convince him you’re fine—you’re not fine doll, lemme take care of you.

You always try to refuse his help, and you always fail because Logan doesn’t need your permission—if it’s in your benefit he’ll do it, no questions asked. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, so like hell he’s gonna stand by and do nothing.

“What do you need?” He whispers, taking you into his arms—sturdy, strong, arms that hold you tight and rub circles against your back as you whimper into them.

“Just need a break,” you breathe. “Just for a little while.”

You hate yourself for it sometimes, how easily you fall into his embrace, the soft coos that lure you in like a siren’s song—c’mere hon, I’ve gotcha—the way your body betrays you when it accepts his help so easily—

But then again, it’s not fair to blame yourself; when given the choice of pain or relief, you’ll always choose Logan.

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navs-bhat · 16 hours ago

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why is he just the prettiest ever. . . first drover fic dropping later <3

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navs-bhat · 16 hours ago

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hi, just wanted to mention that i love ur fics—they’re all vv sweet and creative <3

for the snow angels could you write a ice-skater!reader x ice-skater marauder (either sirius or even poly!wolfstar)

also if you’re open to doing it, could you write it so the reader is deaf (and uses sign language? if not that’s perfectly fine ♥️♥️)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! That's really kind of you <3

cw: I don't have a ton of experience with the deaf community so if anything in here is inaccurate or offensive please feel free to let me know and I'll try to change it

figure skater!Sirius x hearing impaired!figure skater!reader ♡ 464 words

You come out of your spin, and your eyes seek Sirius immediately. It’s a habit, an instinct, and lately almost a magnetic pull. You find him watching you from across the rink with a fond uptilt to his lips. There’s a look on his face that lets you know what he’s going to do even before he signs, “Hold on.”

You huff a laugh to yourself but do as he says. Sirius does this more and more often lately—fretting over your cold hands, wanting to warm them in his own. It’s like he forgets you’ve been skating without gloves your whole life, or somehow forgets that his hands are just as cold, since he goes without them too to sign at you.

“Aren’t you freezing?” he signs, mouth forming the words as he does, just before he gets to you. He rubs his hands together, taking yours between them. He blows a loose strand of hair away from his face. It floats right back.

You know it’s only a matter of time until Sirius tries to coax you back off the ice for a hot chocolate. “Come on, sweetheart, my treat,” he always says, as if you’re going along for the free watery hot chocolate and not just to spend time with him. Lately, something has shifted in the dynamic between you and Sirius. He spends maybe half his time at the rink actually skating, the other half signing to you from across the rink and warming your hands. And you spend most of your time thinking about him.

You pull your hands from his. “Did you see my layback?” you ask, mouth pulling sideways into a grimace.

Sirius mirrors your expression, though you can see his smile peeking through. “I saw. You’ll get it, you just need to get your back leg in the right place.”

You push out a sigh. You’ve been trying to do that all morning. “Help me with it?”

“Now?” Sirius’ nose wrinkles. “I was thinking we could break for hot chocolate.”

You suppress a smile. Predictable.

“Come on,” he signs at your reluctance. “You’ve got to be freezing. My treat.”

You laugh. “Help me for a little while, please? Then we can go.”

Sirius rolls his eyes at you, but his expression is fond. “Fine. Let me warm you up first, though.”

He takes your hands again, cupping his around them and raising them to his mouth to blow hot hair into your palms. You smile and let him. The warmth is nearly as nice as the feeling of Sirius’ hands cradling your own, of his lips brushing the sides of your thumbs. You wonder, sometimes, if this is really only an excuse to touch you.

You’ll have to ask him when your hands aren’t so pleasantly occupied.

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navs-bhat · 1 day ago

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𝓓RAWN TO 𝓨OU !

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : reader has a cat mutation, fluff, hurt comfort, past traumas, shy!reader wc : 1.8k

logan’s first mistake was being nice to you.

you’d only been at the x-mansion for a couple of weeks, still getting used to the overwhelming energy of it all. after years of isolation and trauma, being thrown into a lively, bustling environment like this felt like stepping into a different world. you’d barely been able to keep up, senses overloaded with all the new faces, noises, and scents around you. everything was too much, too loud, and you felt like a stray cat caught in a storm.

it was one of those days when you were trying to find a quiet corner, somewhere to hide from the noise. the rec room was packed; laughter, conversations, the clatter of cutlery and plates filled the air, setting your nerves on edge. you sat in the corner, tail flicking anxiously, ears flattened against your head as you tried to drown out the chaos. you could feel your claws digging into your palms, a desperate attempt to ground yourself before you bolted.

but then you caught a familiar scent - woodsy, rugged, with a hint of cigar smoke. it cut through the haze like a lifeline, something steady to latch onto. you turned your head and saw him: logan, walking through the crowd with a beer in his hand, that permanent scowl etched onto his face.

you didn’t even think twice; you just got up and followed him.

he didn’t notice you right away. he was too busy glaring at the world, lost in his own thoughts as he made his way through the mansion. it wasn’t until he reached the stairs that he paused, glancing over his shoulder and finding you trailing behind him like a shadow.

“the hell’re you doin’?” he grumbled, eyes narrowing as he took in your anxious stance, the way your tail was flicking behind you, betraying your nerves.

you froze under his scrutiny, unsure how to explain it. a soft mewl escaped you, one you hadn’t meant to make, and his scowl deepened. but he didn’t tell you to go away. instead, he just let out a resigned huff, turning back around with a muttered, “fine, just... don’t get in my damn way.”

you stuck to his side after that.

logan found it annoying at first - he wasn’t exactly a people person, and having someone constantly following him around like a lost kitten was grating on his nerves. but no matter how many times he tried to shake you off, you’d always find your way back to him. it was like you had some kind of sixth sense for where he was in the mansion. if he was in the garage, you were there, perched on an old crate, watching him work on his bike with wide, curious eyes. if he was out back, smoking a cigar, you were sitting a few feet away, basking in the quiet comfort of his presence.

he didn’t get it.

“don’t you got somewhere else to be?” he’d grumble every now and then, but there was never any real heat behind it.

you’d just shake your head, a small, shy smile on your lips. “i like being here... with you.”

and maybe that was the turning point, the moment he stopped trying so hard to push you away. it wasn’t like you were causing trouble - you were quiet, easy to ignore when he wanted to be left alone, but always there when he needed an extra hand or just... someone to share the silence with.

the others noticed, of course.

“she’s like your little shadow, ain’t she?” rogue teased one day, leaning against the doorframe of the garage, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

logan just shrugged, wiping the grease off his hands. “she’s harmless,” he muttered, like that was enough of an explanation.

“she’s cute too.” rouge muttered under her breath, a smirk forming on her face. “hey, do you know why she’s even following you around in the first place?

“i got no fuckin’ clue. says she’s just drawn to me?”

the smile on her face grew tenfold, “oh logan...”

he shot her a confused look, her teasing eyes only twinkling more, a little snort that she seemed she couldn’t hold in forcing it’s way out.

things took a turn one night when you showed up outside his door, clutching a blanket to your chest, looking more skittish than usual. it was late, the mansion quiet except for the distant hum of the generator, and logan had been looking forward to some peace and quiet.

but then there you were, eyes wide and pleading, ears drooping like a scolded cat.

“what is it?” he asked, voice gruff, though there was a flicker of concern in his gaze.

you shifted on your feet, not meeting his eyes. “can i... stay here tonight?” you whispered, so soft he almost missed it. “i... i don’t want to be alone.”

logan stared at you for a moment, torn between his instinct to tell you to go back to your own room and the strange, unfamiliar urge to protect you. finally, he just let out a heavy sigh, stepping aside to let you in.

“fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “just for tonight.”

you nodded quickly, slipping past him and settling on the floor next to his bed, wrapping yourself in your blanket like a cocoon. he watched you for a moment, the way you curled in on yourself, small and vulnerable, before turning off the light and getting back into bed.

but it wasn’t just for one night.

you kept coming back, night after night, until your pillow and blanket became a permanent fixture in his room. logan didn’t say anything, just grunted in acknowledgment whenever you slipped in after dark, but he never turned you away.

“you know you could just take the bed,” he said one night, half-asleep, his voice a low rumble in the darkness.

you shook your head, though he could barely see it. “i’m fine here,” you whispered. “i don’t want to be a bother.”

logan just huffed, turning over, but he didn’t press the issue.

he didn’t realise how used to your presence he’d gotten until you weren’t there.

you’d gone on a mission with some of the others, promising him you’d be careful, but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling gnawing at his gut. he tried to distract himself, burying himself in his usual routines, but everything felt... off without you trailing after him.

when they brought you back, bruised and bloodied, something in him snapped.

“what the hell happened?” he growled, stalking over to where hank was tending to your injuries, his fists clenched at his sides.

“it was my fault, lo” you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “i... i thought i could handle it.”

logan just shook his head, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “you’re not fuckin’ ready for this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

you flinched, your ears flattening against your skull, and he immediately regretted his harsh tone.

“dammit,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “i didn’t mean it like that. just... don’t scare me like that again, alright?”

you looked up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable, brimming with unshed tears, and he felt something tighten in his chest.

“i just... i feel safe with you,” you whispered through your watery expression, so soft he almost missed it.

logan’s expression softened, the anger draining from his face.

“yeah, well,” he muttered, looking away, “you are. safer, i mean.”

one night, as you were curled up next to him, your tail wrapped around his leg, you murmured something that made his breath hitch.

“i’ve never felt like this before... safe, i mean,” you whispered, your voice so quiet it was almost lost in the darkness.

logan went still, his heart pounding in his chest, but he didn’t pull away.

“yeah?” he asked, his voice rough, unsure of where this was going.

you nodded against his chest, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his skin. “with you... it’s different. i don't feel like i have to look over my shoulder all the time. i’m not scared when i’m with you.”

he was silent for a moment, trying to process the weight of your words. the confession hung between you, fragile and tentative.

“you mean that?” he finally asked, voice gruff, his hands tightening around you just a bit.

“yeah,” you breathed out, turning to look up at him, eyes wide and honest. “you... you make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.”

logan swallowed hard, the raw vulnerability in your voice cutting right through him. he wasn’t good with words, never had been, but he knew he didn’t want to mess this up.

“that’s all i need,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, and logan felt something warm and unbreakable settle in his chest.

logan swallowed hard, the raw vulnerability in your voice cutting right through him. he wasn’t good with words, never had been, but he knew he didn’t want to mess this up.

“i don’t know what the hell i’m doin’,” he muttered, looking down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “but i’ll stick around if that’s what you want. i’ll try... for you.”

you smiled softly, leaning into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the way he was still holding back, afraid to take the next step. so, you did it for him. with a hesitant breath, you lifted your hand to his face, gently tracing the rough line of his jaw with your fingertips.

“logan…” you whispered, your voice barely audible. his eyes softened at the sound of his name, and for a moment, neither of you moved, the air between you charged with something unspoken.

slowly, he dipped his head, bringing his face closer to yours. you could feel the warmth of his breath, the way it hitched slightly, as if he was still unsure. but then his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative, as if he was afraid of breaking you.

the kiss was gentle, almost shy, a stark contrast to the rough edges that usually defined him. his hands cupped your face so carefully, as if you were something precious and fragile, something he never wanted to lose. your eyes fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping you as you leaned into him, feeling the warmth and tenderness he rarely showed to anyone else.

logan’s thumb brushed against your cheek, a silent question, asking if this was okay, if this was what you wanted. you answered by pressing closer, your lips moving against his in a slow, careful dance that spoke of trust, of finding solace in each other.

when he finally pulled back, it was only by a fraction, his forehead resting against yours, eyes still closed. he stayed like that for a moment, just holding you, as if he was afraid that letting go would mean losing this fragile connection.

“you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, voice rough with emotion, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your skin.

“maybe,” you whispered back, smiling softly, your eyes shining as you looked up at him. “but i think i found something special too.”

logan just held you tighter, his lips ghosting over yours once more, a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

🌀 logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

@lemoanaid, @correnz, @coocoocachewgotscrewed, @ohmystvrk, @y08h

@lovely-liliacs, @california-boys-and-sun, @omen-keke

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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navs-bhat · 1 day ago

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Frisky Friday (if you're still doing it): Cole getting obsessed with the new worker at the local Home Depot/Lowes. She's always sooo helpful, clearly it means she has feelings for him like he does for her!

The Customer is Always Right

"This should work just fine, and it's way cheaper," you hand over the caulk gun. "Anything else?"

Cole smiles. He's a regular. You get a lot of those. Many of the customers have a thousand different projects or never quite finish upgrading their houses. And many of them are men.

"Uh, no, I don't think so. Guess that's everything," he slaps the gun against his other hand. "So uh, can you check me out back here? Don't want you to miss out on a commission?"

"Oh, no, we don't work on commission. You can head to the front."

"That's... good, I guess. Equal pay or whatever."

"Sure," you agree. Half of customer service is just nodding and smile. "You have good day."

"Um, you too," he hesitates as you go back to your desk and check the orders on the screen.

He watches you for a moment before he turns away. When he walks off at last, you peek up. His tan vest billows slightly around his plaid shirt, his jeans are a faded blue, and his sandy hair tufts up a bit around his crown. All the men the frequent the hardware store have their quirks.

You go back to picking product, walking the aisles with the cart, taping labels to each as you scan them into the system with the wireless gun. When you wheel back to the desk, you find someone waiting. You slow down as Cole stands on the other side.

"Oh hi, you forget something?" You ask.

"Just this," he raises a white paper cup. "You said you don't get commission but I just thought you deserved a little something extra for the great service."

"Wow, um, you didn't have to do that," you say.

"I know, but I was head down to the cafe anyway. They had a salted maple latte on special so... it's always nice to have someone to share new things with, don't you think?"

"I guess," you say. "That's very sweet of you."

He smiles and his cheeks pinken slightly, "I like being sweet to you."

You hold back a wince. Some of the men flirt, or try to. You have honed the art of deflecting them.

"Well, good luck with your tile." You say.

"Try it," he insists sharply.

"Hm?" You blink.

"The coffee. Let me know if you like it," he says.

"Oh, right, I was gonna wait til I got this all away. Savour it, you know?"

"Mmm," his lips straighten. "No, you were going to dump it."

"No... why would I do that?" You squint at him.

He blanches, "I'm sorry. I just... I was excited to give it to you and-- well, women... I don't have the best experiences."

"It's fine. I'll try it," you assure him as you reach for the cup. You just want him to go so you can do your work. You sip. It's salty, very salty, and you don't taste much maple. You force a delighted purr. "It's good. Thank you."

"Isn't it?" He raises his own cup.

"Yeah, it'll be something to get me through the day. Thank you, Cole," you say.

"No, thank you," he grins again. "I'll see you around."

"Sure, see ya 'round," you echo and put the cup down, the strange flavour sticking to your tongue. It has an oddly sweet after taste. You might just end up dumping it after all.

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navs-bhat · 2 days ago

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my mind cannot comprehend the lack of paul mescal fics in here… LIKE IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE people are not writing their asses off about him and his characters

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navs-bhat · 2 days ago

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aaannndddd where's the lucius verus x reader????

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navs-bhat · 2 days ago

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was watching an interview with paul mescal and pedro pascal.

paul is such a beautiful person, with his stormy blue eyes...

seen a lot of marcus acacius fics, where are fics for lucius verus? the man deserves it...

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navs-bhat · 2 days ago

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Haircut

Logan's hair has grown out and he wants you to cut it.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

It was just after your last class when Jean and Ororo strolled into your office, both looking far too amused for it to be innocent. Jean was practically buzzing, that familiar glint in her eye that always meant she had something on her mind she probably shouldn’t say out loud.

You set down your stack of papers, raising an eyebrow. "Alright, what’s going on? You’re both looking at me like you have some kind of secret."

Jean tilted her head, feigning confusion. "What? I have no idea what you’re talking about," she replied, though her face betrayed her.

Ororo shook her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Jean, you’re not fooling anyone. Everyone knows that look means you have something you're dying to say."

You grinned, leaning back in your chair. "Come on, Jean. Out with it. What’s got you both so giggly?"

Jean sighed dramatically, leaning in with a conspiratorial smirk, as though she were about to reveal a closely guarded secret. "Have you seriously not noticed how… long Logan’s hair has gotten?"

You blinked, feigning surprise, though a warmth crept into your cheeks. "His hair?" Of course, you’d noticed. You were hoping Logan hadn’t— you liked it long. The way it softened his features, gave him a slightly gentler look, even if he didn’t see himself that way.

Ororo chimed in, folding her arms and smirking. "He’s looking downright fluffy these days. Reminds me of a very grumpy, oversized puppy."

Jean snickered. "I mean, he's practically got movie star hair now. Big, wild, and those white streaks just make him look all the more rugged. Like something out of one of those brooding novels you love."

You couldn’t help but laugh, the mental image was too perfect. "You two are ridiculous. I think he looks… distinguished."

"Right, distinguished ," Jean teased, raising an eyebrow. "I saw Scott nearly choke on his coffee this morning after seeing him in the hallway. He told Logan he looked like he just wandered out of the wilderness."

"I don’t think Logan even realized his hair had gotten so long," Ororo added, shaking her head. "Until, well, everyone started teasing him about it."

You grinned, already imagining the scowl Logan must have given Scott. "Well, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled when he finds out the whole mansion’s talking about his ‘movie star’ look."

The three of you shared a laugh, but as the door to your office swung open, you froze. Speak of the devil—Logan himself appeared, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression. His hair was indeed longer than usual, falling in soft waves around his face, streaked with hints of white that caught the light. He looked somehow younger… and maybe a little self-conscious.

"Are you three done talkin' about me like I’m not standin' right here?" he muttered, eyes narrowing playfully. "Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about."

Jean and Ororo stifled their laughter, making their excuses as they slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with Logan. You looked up at him, biting back a smile.

"So... you heard all that, huh?" you asked, trying to keep a straight face.

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. "Enough to know my hair’s apparently got everyone in a tizzy," he grumbled. "Honestly, didn’t even notice how long it’d gotten until Scott gave me grief about it. Figured it was time to have it cut, but… thought I’d get your opinion first."

You sat up a little straighter, looking at him with mock seriousness. "Well, if you want my professional opinion, I think the long hair suits you. It’s got that rugged ‘I live in the woods and don’t care about societal expectations’ charm." You reached up, brushing your fingers through the strands near his ear. "And besides… it’s kind of adorable when it’s all fluffy like this."

Logan scoffed, though there was a slight blush creeping up his neck. "Adorable? You’re always pushin’ it, darlin’."

"I mean it!" you insisted, running your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness beneath your touch. "It gives you this ‘wise, wild protector’ look. Like something out of one of those old legends."

He groaned, rolling his eyes. "You’re just sayin' that ‘cause you don’t wanna cut it. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s startin’ to get in the way. Gonna end up chewin' on it if it gets much longer."

"Well, if you’re worried about it getting in the way…" You let your fingers linger, brushing the silver strands back from his face, admiring the way they contrasted with his darker hair. "Maybe just a trim?"

Logan held your gaze, a hint of exasperated affection in his eyes. "Sweetheart, you’re tryin’ way too hard to keep this mop on my head."

You sighed dramatically, giving his hair a final fluff. "Fine. If you insist on going back to the short, tough-guy look, I’ll cut it. But just know, I’ll miss all this wild, windswept charm."

Logan smirked, leaning in close. "Pretty sure you’ll still find plenty of charm left," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Now, how about that haircut before I start lookin’ like I belong in a shampoo commercial?"

Later that evening, Logan sat in front of the bathroom mirror, his rugged frame filling the small space as the golden light of the setting sun streamed in through the window. You stood behind him, scissors in hand, combing through his thick, unruly hair with a small, reluctant sigh.

"Alright, Mr. Movie Star, " you teased, raising an eyebrow as you met his eyes in the mirror. "Are you absolutely sure you want me to cut this?"

Logan gave a small, exasperated huff, his gaze steady and affectionate. "Yeah, sweetheart. I trust you. Just… don’t go makin' me bald," he muttered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You chuckled, fingers threading through his dark hair, feeling its softness as you brushed through it. "Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to see that either," you teased, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of his head before slipping into concentration.

As you worked, Logan watched you through the mirror with a quiet intensity, his eyes softening as he took in the focused look on your face. After a few minutes, he closed his eyes, seemingly surrendering to your touch. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you trimmed, the soft snip of scissors breaking the peaceful silence between you. Every now and then, Logan let out a low hum of approval, as if he were drifting into some rare moment of calm.

When you finally finished, you took a step back, tilting your head as you admired your work. His hair was back to its shorter, rugged cut—the way you remembered it from when you’d first met him—but you’d left just a bit of length to keep that hint of softness you’d grown to love.

Logan opened his eyes and ran a hand through his newly cropped hair, nodding approvingly as he examined his reflection. "Not bad," he murmured, flashing you a small, appreciative smile in the mirror. "I think you missed your calling as a barber."

You grinned, leaning down to drape your arms over his shoulders, resting your chin on top of his head as you looked at him in the mirror. "Well, you make a pretty handsome client," you murmured, ruffling his hair playfully.

Logan chuckled, reaching up to catch one of your hands, his fingers lacing through yours. "Gotta admit," he said, his voice a low rumble, "I kinda like you fussin' over me."

You laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. "Oh, I bet you do. Next time, maybe I’ll charge you for it."

He tilted his head, meeting your gaze with that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Think I can handle the payment," he murmured, his hand sliding up to the back of your neck, pulling you into a slow, lingering kiss that left you breathless. His thumb traced gentle circles against your skin, holding you close as the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you bathed in the soft, golden light of the evening.

When he finally pulled back, a faint smirk played on his lips, his eyes flickering over your face. "Gotta say… you look a little disappointed, sweetheart."

You shrugged, trying to hide the grin tugging at your mouth. "Well, I was a fan of the fluffy look," you admitted, running your fingers through the shorter strands as if to mourn the loss. "But I guess I can make peace with this new ‘refined’ version of you."

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge sparking in his gaze as he tugged you gently toward him, guiding you to stand between his knees. His hands found your hips, fingers warm and steady as they rested on your waist. "Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you somehow," he teased, his voice dropping to that familiar low rumble.

You arched an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with a smirk. "Oh? And just how do you plan on doing that, Mr. Howlett?"

He gave a low chuckle, one that you felt more than heard, as he pulled you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Oh, I’ll think of somethin’, darlin’," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin before he closed the distance, capturing your mouth in another deep, lingering kiss.

As his arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, you melted into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palms. His hair might’ve been shorter now, but he was still undeniably him —all rugged strength, warmth, and that infuriatingly charming smirk that had stolen your heart.

Pulling back just slightly, you looked down at him with a teasing grin. "You know, you’re lucky I love you for more than just your hair."

He huffed, rolling his eyes but unable to keep the softness out of his gaze. "Yeah, yeah. Good thing, huh? Otherwise, I might’ve been in trouble."

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navs-bhat · 2 days ago

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Jinx (or 5 times you mess things up in front of Logan and 1 time you don't) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You bring bad luck and have all your life and when you meet Logan you expect him to react the same way everyone has. To your shock he doesn't. That doesn't stop you from making a fool of yourself in front of him though. Many. Many times.

warnings: flirty logan, swearing, reader has mutant fire powers, fighting, logan has ptsd in water, he lashes out bc of it, possible ooc but idc, fighting, injury, comfort, blood, explosions

wc: 5k

a/n: Okay so I fucking LOVE arcane and I thought about a fic where the reader is like Jinx in the sense of she just has really bad luck all the time. She also has fire powers because I think they're cool and after that one drabble I wanted to do more with it. This is my longest fic so I hope you like it!!!

The First meeting

You might be the first mutant with a nickname that is more of an insult than a call sign. It started when you arrived here. Just a teenager looking for a place to call home. The mansion was that home and you loved every second of it. Your fire wielding powers were dangerous but exciting and with the help of the teachers you sort of learned how to train them.

But for some reason you didn't get some cool fire nickname you got stuck with Jinx. It's not your fault that bad things just happen around you. Really. You don't do anything to cause them on purpose but the bad luck seems to just follow you where ever you go.

You got the nickname after you managed to break the fountain. Seriously though how can that be so fragile. All you did was kick a soccer ball and you might have taken its head off.

Bad things just seemed to happen over and over again. You might have set fire to some curtains. Or the carpet. Or smashed a vase or two.

Even when you graduated and became a teacher things just happened. Missing papers, breaking pencils, the ceiling caves in because a family of fat racoons decided to make their home there. Things that were out of your control just happened.

So they called you Jinx. Was it lovingly? Maybe.

No one has kicked you out yet so that's a good sign. They do tend to avoid standing too close to you though. Which honestly is for the best.

It was a commotion in the main lobby that catches your attention today. The sound of a gruff voice peaks your interest. Peering into the room you see Rogue and Storm talking to a man.

"It's good to see you Logan." Oh! Wolverine.

You missed his first stop by the mansion. You were off doing something else for Charles when he was brought here originally and you were supposed to fly back to help as usual. You flight got canceled due to weather. So by the time you came back he had already gone.

You heard Rouge gossiping with the other students about him. She mentioned he was handsome but fuck he was even better than you thought.

You lean forward a little more and end up losing your balance and falling flat on your face. The three of them look at you and you wave, trying to save yourself some embarrassment. You can see Logan looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Jinx! Come meet Logan." Rogue calls you over and you stand up. Brushing yourself off as you walk over.

"Nice to meet you Logan." You hold out your hand but he just looks at it.

"Jinx?" He says instead. A smirk on his face as he speaks.

"It's a nickname, don't you have one too Wolverine?" He chuckles and you have hope that you're charming enough. Most of the time something really unlucky happens when you meet someone for the first time.

"Will I see you around Jinx?" If you didn't know better you'd say he was flirting.

He steps closer to you and you stumble back in surprise. He's intimidating with his broad shoulders and animal like grin. You let out a small scream as you trip on your feet and fall backwards. Right into Scott. Scott falls like a domino and you hear a crack.

"Scott! Are you okay?!" You rush to his side but suddenly a beam of energy shoots through his eyes.

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you away from him. Ducking your head as the beam shoots into the door. Scott closes his eyes but the damage is already done. The front doors of the beautiful mansion were destroyed. Everyone waits in silence as Charles appears from his office holding an extra pair of glasses for Scott.

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." Apologies tumble out of your mouth as Scott fixes his new glasses.

"Don't worry about it, It was an accident Jinx." He places a hand on your shoulder and smiles but you can tell you fucked up. Again. You smile back but it falls once he leaves.

"I'm sorry about your door Professor." You mumble as you look at the destruction.

"It's alright, we'll get it fixed." You slowly walk off, letting people asses the damage.

You pass by Logan who watches you as you slink back to your room. You had hoped that maybe you could have gotten to know Logan before he found out how you got your nickname.

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

The next time you encounter Logan is in the kitchen. Despite your inherent unluckiness you still loved to cook. Sure you had cuts and burns from all your attempts but your dishes ended up pretty good. You're making a stew this time. Band aids are already on some of your fingers as you stir the pot.

"Smells good." You let out a scream as you drop the spoon into the soup. The fridge opens up and you see Logan rummaging through the shelves.

"Beer's behind the peas." You mumble as you try and fish out the spoon.

"Ow!" You hiss as you burn yourself again.

The hot metal spoon burned your hand. Logan watches as you put your hand under the sink and put some cold water on it.

"Ironic I know, the mutant with fire powers burns herself when cooking." You mutter catching his amused look.

He walks over and takes your hand, pressing his cold beer to the small burn. You sigh as the cold drink sends relief through your hand. You get a better look at Logan like this.

He's just dressed in jeans and a tank top. His muscles are practically bulging through the already stretchy fabric. He's got this dangerous aura around him that makes you hesitant at first. Not to mention the whispers about him. How violent he could be, the things he’s done. Everything he’s been through. But you didn’t care.

"So is Jinx because your clumsy?" He asks as he checks on your burn.

"Kind of, more like unlucky things just seem to happen to me I guess." Your eyes are focused on where Logan's hand is holding your wrist.

His hands are rough but his touch feels so nice. His grip is firm but not enough to hurt you. The fact that he's even helping you is bizarre. Anyone else would just chalk it up to you and let you deal with it yourself.

"I'm surprised you haven't run for the hills yet. You know, the first day you meet me I end up destroying the door." To your surprise Logan laughs.

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

"Yeah well I broke his glasses." You take your hand away from his beer and turn your attention back to the soup.

For some reason Logan doesn't leave. He watches you as you cook and you like the company. You tense as you feel him get closer to you. His chest almost against your back as he peers over your shoulder. He's so close. You take a wooden spoon this time and stir the soup. Lifting a little bit to your lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

You turn your head to find his face incredibly close to yours. Really close. So close that you can barely focus on anything other than his lips. You don't notice the burner getting more intense as all your focus is on Logan.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as the soup practically explodes all over the kitchen. Soup splatters every possible place including your clothes. Making a massive mess.

"Dammit!" You turn down the burner and see if there's anything left you can salvage but there's nothing. You must have caused the burner to go haywire.

"I'm sorry Logan." You say defeatedly as you wipe soup from your forehead. Logan takes his thumb and wipes the soup off your cheek.

"Tasty." He says as he licks his thumb. He doesn’t break eye contact. Enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

You stand with your mouth open as he walks off like he didn't just do that. The flames on the burner get bigger once again and you turn it off. You grab the roll of paper towels and start to clean.

The faint touch of Logan's thumb still on your mind.

3. In the garage

After your kitchen disaster you found yourself wandering the mansion instead. It had been a couple weeks but you decided to avoid the kitchen for now. Now you had too much free time on your hands. That's how you ended up here, in the garage. Except this time it was you who found Logan. He was working on his motorcycle. Shirtless. Okay that's totally normal right? You think to yourself as you sit and watch.

"When did you learn how to ride?" You ask as you watch him screw in something to somewhere, you don't know too much about motorcycles.

"Long time ago." He answers gruffly as he wipes his forehead with a rag.

"Like ten, twenty, a million years ago?" Logan chuckles and stands up. Your eyes trace the veins on his arms as he puts his hands on his hips.

"More like a hundred." He sits on his bike and turns it on. He's double checking everything and notices you looking in awe.

"You ever ridden before?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Alright then come here." He gestures for you to get on and you perk up. He gets off and holds the handle bars, letting you get on. You're extra careful. This bike looked expensive and Logan had just spent hours working on it. The last thing you wanted to do was jinx things. Again.

"Woah." You giggle as you run your hands along the smooth metal.

"So you put one foot here and the other stays on the floor." He guides you gently and you do as he says. You place your hands next to his on the handlebars.

"When I was a kid I this bike. It was purple with a basket in the front." You tell him. You loved that bike. Rode it whenever you could. You had the bruises to prove it from the amount of times you fell off.

"I rode it into a bush once. Got these bumps all over my skin." Logan takes his hands off the bike leaving just you holding it up.

"Well it's no purple bike, but I can take you on a ride one day. There's this diner about twenty minute away if you’re interested.” He offers. You grin and tighten your grip on the handles.

"Sounds like you're asking me on a date." You say boldly.

Before Logan could say anything there's a loud bang. Backfire from something but it scares the hell out of you. Without thinking you heat up the bike and jump off of it. Logan tries to grab it but the handles burn his hand. You watch in horror as it falls on its side. You try to stop it but it only ends up landing on your foot.

"Fuck!" You grab your foot as pain shoots through your body. That thing is heavy. Logan clutches his hand for a second before the burn heals. He picks up the bike and kicks the stand open so it can stay up on its own. Your eyes brim with tears when you see the dirty and scratches that have ruined the newly cleaned shiny metal.

"Logan I'm so sorry." He sighs and walks over to you.

"Your foot okay?" It hurts but it's not broken. You try to set it down but you can't. The pain is too much. You try to hide it but he sees right through you.

"Let's get you to the lab." You try to protest but he doesn't listen. Helping you out of the garage and to the lab. Ignoring the fact that you just caused him even more trouble. As you get patched up he leaves. You hang your head low as you think of a way to make it up to him.

Later that night Logan can't sleep. The nightmares don’t let him. So he makes his way back down to the garage. He needs to start over on fixing his bike anyways. As he approaches the door be notices the lights already on. To his surprise he finds you there. Fast asleep with your head on a chair.

You're body is uncomfortably kneeling on the ground. Your foot is wrapped and there's crutches leaning against the wall. There's rags and wax sitting by your side and his bike looks brand new. He kneels down and shakes you awake.

"Hey there sweetheart." He says as you open your eyes.

You mumble something incoherent and shut your eyes. Logan bends down and picks you up in his arms. He carries you back to your bed laying a blanket over you as you melt into your pillows. He elevates your foot before he leaves. People may call you a Jinx but you've got a heart of gold. He goes back to the garage and cleans up everything, making a mental note to take you on that date when you're foot is better.

4. Ice Skating

It took a month for your foot to finally heal up. Broken no, fractured, yes. It was a pain trying to get around on crutches but Logan ended being your own personal transportation. He would help you get down the stairs, reach the high shelf, drive you to the store. Whatever you needed he was there.

He even took you to that diner. Sharing a milkshake and cheese fries. He looked past your nickname, sure he called you Jinx but when he did it felt sweeter. He had seen your unluckiness first hand and yet he still chooses to be by your side. It was all you ever wanted.

Sure you had friends at the mansion but you could tell they thought of you as a small burden, a nuisance. They were still kind to you but you always saw their faces when something went wrong. With Logan there was none of that. He embraced every part of you. Now with your foot all healed and the winter starting to settle over the mansion you were all clear for winter activities.

Your favorite one being ice skating. A large pond was the perfect place for you and some of the kids to go. Logan had tagged along but only did so because you begged him to go. Pretty please with a cherry on top was enough to get him to chaperone.

You skated along with some of the kids. Others had set up an ice hockey game. It was pure childhood joy. Something that these kids didn't get all the time. Logan was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond just watching. You skated over and put your hands on your hips.

"Come on Logan, you can't just come to the lake and not skate." You whine. He raises an eyebrow and stays put on that bench.

"I don't do skating sweetheart, or lakes."

"Ten minutes, just ten minutes and I'll leave you alone." You pout and clasp your hands together. He stares at you for a moment before relenting.

"Fine." You let out a happy cheer as he laces up the pair of skates you got for him. You hold out your hands as Logan struggles to balance on the skates.

"See, you're a natural." Logan wobbles and lets out a string of curses as he tries to walk on ice.

"Shut up." He says with no bite in his voice.

Your fingers interlock with his hand as you start slow. This was hell for Logan but seeing your smile made it worth it. You skate around the lake with him, laughing when he glares at the kids who laugh at him. Seeing him so out of his element was funny.

"Okay that's it I'm done." He grunts out as you come to a stop near the middle of the lake.

"Thank you for trying." You know he's not really having fun but it meant a lot he was willing to even get on the ice for you.

"Teacher! Jinx!" A loud cry comes from the kids. You gasp as you notice the ice starting to crack. You made sure the ice was thick enough. You triple checked how could this be happening. You see Logan start to panic so you take action.

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

"If you can make it off now then do it. If you're too far away then I need you to get on your stomach and spread your legs out. Then slowly crawl to the edge. Anyone who is off the lake help pull others to safety." You stay as calm as you can as you make sure everyone is safe. To your relief the ice stays intact as the kids make it off. Now it's just you and Logan. There's fear in his eyes as the cracking gets louder.

"We need to do the same thing Logan. It's going to be okay." The two of you get onto your stomachs and army crawl towards the edge. A student with super speed has already gone to get help thank goodness.

"Fuck." Logan panics as the ice starts to give way. You grab his hand as he starts to freeze.

"It's okay it's okay." You're close to the edge but not close enough.

You yelp as the ice breaks and both of you plunge into the water. You try to keep your grip onto Logan but he's sinking fast. The water is bringing back horrible, horrible memories as he struggles to breathe. Your head barely bobs above the surface as you see familiar faces running towards you.

Water fills your lungs as you scream when Logan's claws nick your arm. He plunges them into the dirt. Trying to pull himself up and out. Your body is becoming numb and every movement hurts. A pair of hands drag you out of the water. You cough violently as you grip onto the frozen grass. Trying to catch your breath. Logan's eyes are wide as he does the same.

"Are you okay?" You reach out to him but he snaps.

"Don't touch me!" He snarls and your heart plummets. His eyes are unfamiliar as his teeth bare like an animal. For the first time since you've met him he's angry with you. Really fucking angry.

"I'm sorry I..."

"I'm sorry Logan, I didn't mean to scratch your bike, I didn't mean to explode the fucking soup. Is that all you can say?!" He shoves off the people trying to help and stands up. His face cold and unforgiving as he looks down on your shivering body.

"You really are a fucking Jinx." You let out a sob as Logan walks away.

A fluffy blanket feels like ice against your skin as you're ushered back to the mansion. You hear Storm trying to talk to you but everything sounds like white noise. Your heart is stomped and crushed right in front of your eyes and you can't even blame him.

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

There's no more accidents around the mansion anymore. Probably because you've locked yourself away since the ice skating incident. With the school on a break you didn't need to teach so all you did was stay in your room. Only leaving in the dead of night.

You just couldn't face the mansion anymore. You were embarrassed, upset, and heartbroken. Logan was supposed to be different. You wanted things to be different with him but apparently the universe decided you can have nothing good. It was only a matter of time before he saw the truth. His words repeat in your head over and over.

The anger, the fear. You caused that. Students and teachers alike would stop by your door but no one could get you out of your room. Sometimes you swear you hear the sound of his boots outside of your door. But he just stands there and then he leaves.

You can't cause any more problems if you stay here. Only issues for yourself and that's okay. Professor Xavier would pop into your head every now and then just to check up on you but this time what he needed was urgent.

The moment you walked through his office doors you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially a certain someone's who’s brooding in the corner of the room. Even with everyone here he's just overwhelming. You keep yours forward, not sparing a glance to him or to anyone.

"Thank you for joining us." Charles smiles warmly.

Apparently there's a mission and they need your help. Why they would send you out there you don't know. The targets had a fire mutant too and the best way to fight fire is with, well with more fire. The moment you stepped on the jet you could feel the nerves.

Everyone was worried something would go wrong with you around. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground you take a seat as far away from everyone as possible. Counting your fingers over and over as you wait to land. Someone makes there way over to you, their boots are oh so familiar.

"Hey." You look up to see Logan. He's holding onto the seat next to you for dear life.

"Don't worry I'm not gonna touch anything." You mumble as you try and somehow make yourself smaller.

"Listen I just wanted to talk." The plane jolts and Logan slams his fist against the wall. He freezes up again, fear creeping up onto his face. Just like on that frozen lake.

"We're hitting some turbulence. Logan you need to sit down." Scott commands.

Logan's lips turn into a growl but he sits down anyway. His hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Apart of you wants to go and comfort him but you would probably just make things worse. So you close your eyes and wait for it to be over. The turbulence calms and eventually the jet lands with everything and everyone unharmed.

The goal was to shutdown a group of mutant hunters and rescue their victims. The worst part was they had mutants on their side too. Good money you guessed. It shouldn't be too hard of a mission but knowing yourself anything could go wrong. You followed the team in, fighting with everything you had.

Logan had stuck by your side since you got here. Keeping his distance but always watching you. His super senses and metal claws made him their number one target. Suppress the Wolverine. They were no match for him though. But Logan's focus seemed to wane as they sent more people after him. A mutant who could make copies of himself did their best to confuse and take Logan down.

"Watch out!" You shout and Logan dodges another attack.

However you get shoved to the ground before you can say anything else. You send a blast of fire at your attacker but they wave it off. So this is the other mutant. The two of you become locked in combat. Fire meeting fire with no clear winner. It isn't until Jean’s voice shouts through your comms that you find the upper hand. They had found the kids and were bringing them back to the ship. It was a losing battle and you think the hunters were staring to realize that. Calling for a retreat.

You can't let them get away. If they get away then all of this is for nothing. They'll rebuild, they'll hurt more people. You notice a gas tank nearby by their vehicle. You were always good at making things explode. Usually on accident but fuck it, might as well try on purpose now.

"Get to safety and get out of here!" You run past the team as you chase after the retreating foes.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Logan calls as he helps a kid get onto the jet.

You ignore him, running as fast as you can. Just one big blast should get that thing exploding. God this was so stupid but its the only thing you can think of. You fucked up the door, you made a mess of the kitchen, you hurt Logan. All you do is ruin things. You're a Jinx and for once you can try and do something good. Even if it kills you.

As the car starts to drive past you channel all your power and launch it at the gas tank. For a second its like everything is in slow motion. You hear Logan roar, turning back only to see him running towards you. Suddenly everything gets really hot and then.

Nothing.

In the medbay

The first thing you feel when you can finally feel things again was how uncomfortable you were. An itchy blanket, itchy arms. Your back hurt and your head was killing you. When you opened your eyes all you see are the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs.

There were cards and flowers sitting on your bedside table and to your left was Logan. He's got his feet up on your bed and he was squished into a chair. His head bowed and his arms crossed. You try to sit up but start to wheeze. The heart monitor starts to beep wildly and Logan jolts awake.

"Sit back down." He pushes you back onto the bed and you try and breathe. After a little bit your heart rate steadies and Logan seems to calm down.

"What happened?" You ask and Logan clenches his jaw.

"You blew yourself up that's what fucking happened." Your memories were slowly getting pieced together.

"I blew up the gas tank. I wanted to stop them from escaping." You say as you recount what led you to the hospital bed.

"Well you stopped them and then almost killed yourself in the process. You had severe burns, a concussion, you were bleeding everywhere. I picked you up in my arms and you were coated in blood." He growls.

The words I'm sorry almost fall out of your mouth but you remember what Logan said that day on the lake. If you're being honest you aren't sorry either. You did what you thought you had to do.

"I'm a Jinx Logan. You said it yourself. I used my destruction to help this time." Logan winces when you remind him of his harsh words.

He wasn't in the right state of mind when he said them. Flashbacks of drowning, of the pain he went through. Being submerged in water and sinking were usually the scenes of his nightmares and for it to happen in real life. It was awful. But that doesn't change the fact he lashed out, he hurt you.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that." Logan gently brushes the bandages on your arms. The scar from when he cut your arm in the lake peeks out from your bandages. He let his fear get the best of him in the water.

"I've hurt a lot of people, sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.” His eyes never leaving your scar. “You’re not a Jinx. You’re perfect.”

"I still make a mess." Logan cups your face and studies a stitched up wound on your forehead.

God when that gas tank exploded. Even he was blown back by the force. He ran to your still body. Ash and pieces of metal were scattered across the field. You're lucky you didn't get fucking impaled. Your body was limp. Dirt and blood caked your face so much that he couldn't tell where you were hurt.

He carried you back to the jet, your blood staining his suit as he laid you down. He listened for your heartbeat for a second he swore it stopped. The longest second of his life as he waited to hear that soft beating.

"Why are you still here?" You just don't understand. How he can be sitting here after everything you've done. All the problems you caused.

"A little mess isn't gonna scare me sweetheart, I like your mess. I like you." He tilts your chin up and kisses you. You're taken by surprise but it's certainly welcome as your eyes flutter closed.

The heart rate monitor starts to beep faster as Logan leans over you. Your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him closer. Logan's grip tightens on the hospital bed railing. He's too lost in the taste of your lips to notice. You tug on his hair and his claws shoot out, cutting one of your IV wires.

A loud beeping blares through the room as Logan jumps back from you. You cover your mouth and laugh. Not even in your sweetest moments can you catch a break. Logan sheaths his claws and shakes his head in disbelief, joining in your laughter.

Jean rushes in with a panicked look on your face. It morphs into confusion when she sees the two of you laughing as your IV drips to the ground. She quickly fixes your IV and gives both of you a scolding for not letting anyone know you were awake.

"Keep your hands and claws to yourself. I'll be back later Jinx." She eyes Logan who puts his hands up. Smirking at you as she leaves.

"You know we could call you something else." Logan suggests. You think for a while before shaking your head.

"I think I like it." It reminds you of your faults yes but this has something that's followed you for the longest time.

You supposedly bring bad luck but you can try and counteract it every day by doing something nice. Plus maybe with Logan your luck might turn around. Maybe. As long as you steer clear of any lakes.

"Alright, but I think sweetheart has a nice ring to it." He says with a grin.

"Oh you want everyone to call me sweetheart?" You tease. Logan leans over and kisses you again.

"No. Only I get to call you that." Bad luck you may bring but Logan doesn't care.

You're a Jinx but you're his jinx and he loves every part of you. The good and the bad. So what's a little bad luck? If it means he gets to be yours then he'd happily be your lucky charm for the rest of your lives.

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