#[Nightmares]

[ashersbraincell]

Just had a nightmare where the universe was a simulation and the very fabric of it was disintegrating but somehow post-crash Curly was like at the center/interwoven into the universe in a way that he then like sacrificed his consciousness or something to give the universe a „restart”

[heretoobsessstuff]

A little snippet from my "Babe can I call" WIP

(5 times John calls Gale in the middle of the night and one time Gale does instead"

Fourth time he called Gale in the middle of the night, he had a nightmare.

It was always different variations of the same scenario. He would be running through the forest, Germans following him, shooting behind him. They would catch him and knock him out. He would open his eyes and be back on that cart, the guy beside him mumbling prayers under his breath. He would turn to tell him to shut up and instead he would be met with Gale’s face, pasty and pale, blood coating the side of his face, dead. Sometimes there would be a bullet wound between his eyes, sometimes his head would be bashed in, sometimes Bucky couldn’t tell what had happened. Only that he was dead. 

He would usually wake up in a frenzy, panting like he had just run a hundred miles, clothes dripping with sweat. It would take him a while to get out of his head. He would gulp down a glass of water and close his eyes, reminding himself that those things didn’t happen. Gale wasn’t with him on the cart. He didn’t get shot or have his head bashed in with a shovel. He wasn’t there in that forest. It would take him a while but he would eventually calm down and either go back to sleep or smoke his way through a pack of lucky strikes. He would resist the urge to call Gale in the middle of the night  just to hear his voice. The morning would come and things would feel better.

This one was different. He was in London, back in the base, walking towards the barracks with his heart pounding. The air was thick with a sense of impending doom. He had a newspaper clutched in his fist , fingers grazing the line "30 bombers lost".

He swung open the door to see a faceless man in Gale’s bunk instead of him. He approached him with fear pooling in his gut. Hands shaking where he clutched the newspaper. “ Where’s Gale?” He asked. The guy frowned at him like he was crazy and said “Don’t you remember? Gale is dead” 

The grief had him by the throat when he woke up. He felt disoriented, he didn’t know whether he was in stalag or back in london. He didn’t know what time it was. He only knew that Gale was dead. He was dead.

[incorrectrotgquotes]

In there, something wicked.

Pitch showing off his nightmare sand in his palm

[shamebats]

[cl0ckworkpuppet]

ok weird poll time???? because apparently i am not normal

you don't need to go into them if you don't want to. im just curious how Not Normal i am because i get nightmares almost every night

[darktraumabomba2]

[sabertoothwalrus]

I've never seen this posted here and I always have a hard time finding it. wanted to make sure everyone knew that the party spent hours binging a romantic drama together

[nohiketoosmall]

The many nightmares I have about snakes....

[lostwhump]

@whumptober | Day #26: "Nightmares" The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (1.01)

[deep-dark-fears]

Late night searches. A fear submitted by Jackie to Deep Dark Fears - thanks!

You can find original art in my shop!

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[whumpster-dumpster]

I'll never get enough of those plots where characters are trapped inside their own minds, whether it's their worst nightmare or an idyllic (ever so slightly off) fantasy, and the others have to figure out how to wake them up ❤️ It's always so fun to see how their subconscious works against them

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dreams, A Nightmare and A Kiss

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> After you have a dream about Logan, your brain can't seem to forget it. And neither will Logan.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of torture, crying, a creepy guy. Apart from that, teasing, fluff, a little dash of steam at the end. Not Proof Read

You kept having this recurring dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare. It was hard to tell. What do you call it when, what seems like a dream, turns into a very awkward situation where you don’t know what to do with yourself when you wake up? 

Do you try to forget it ever happened? Do you talk to someone about it? Do you talk to the person about it? Are you meant to talk to the person about it? Or would consulting a psychiatrist be easier, considering the person who you dreamt about…was not someone you would, or even should be dreaming about?

“Morning.” 

Storm placed down her coffee on the table before pulling out her chair. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“What?”

Storm pointed at you, “You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

“Too hard for this early in the morning,” you mumbled. 

“Well, then, talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think even the world's best psychiatrist can help me with this one.”

Storm shrugged. “Maybe you don’t need the world’s best. Come on, try me.”

You took a moment and looked at Storm. Maybe it was worth a go…

“Okay,” you sighed. Storm got comfortable in her seat and leaned forward. Meanwhile, you practically had to pull your legs under the table and untrap your hands from between them. 

“I had a dream.”

“You had a dream?”

You nodded, trying your best to look her in they eyes when you spoke. Was you really going to admit this outloud to someone? 

“I had a…dream.”

It took her a minute. “Oh…oh. Okay, well anyone will tell you that’s normal. Healthy even. You know, sometimes-”

“About Logan.”

Storm faltered and then came to a full stop, her hand still in the air and her jaw slacked. “Logan.”

Storm spoke slowly as she looked at you, trying to gauge if this was some big prank you were playing on her. It wasn’t April. 

“L…ogan?” She asked this time, just to be sure. 

You nodded. 

“Our Logan?”

“Do you know any other Logan’s?”

Storm shook her head and blinked her eyes for one second too long before coming back into movement. “No, I guess not. So…what’s the issue?”

You looked at her like she was both crazy and confusing. “You don’t see the issue?”

Storm shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not particularly. I mean, it is a little odd considering…well considering you two aren’t the most…harmonious.”

“Understatement.”

And it was. 

Both yourself and Logan, although civil most of the time, weren’t exactly known for being best pals. 

“So what was it about?”

“Ororo!”

She just smiled, “What? I want to know. How was it?”

“I…I can’t answer that.”

“Sure you can! Oh, come on, Y/n. You can’t tell a girl you and Logan shared…something and not tell her about it.”

You sighed, “Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” Storm smiled, leaning back in her chair. “You liked it.”

“What?” You could practically feel your face bursting into flames. “N-no. No I didn’t.”

But she just laughed in response. “You sooo totally want it to happen in real life.”

“Want what to happen?” 

You practically squealed with fright as both you and Storm sat straighter in your chairs and turned to see Logan walk through the door and over to the coffee machine. 

“Uhhh, nothing. Nothing at all. How did you sleep?”

From pouring coffee, Logan repeated your question. “How did I sleep?”

You nodded, willing the redness from your face to disappear. The grip you had held on the back of your chair as you twisted your body was growing stronger by the minute. 

“Yeah.”

Logan placed the coffee pot back in its place and looked to Storm. “Is she okay?”

Then you felt yourself go back to normal. “I’m fine, Logan.”

Logan looked back at you. The general look of disgust and disinterest, a little more prominent on your face. 

“I slept fine.” Logan answered. Then his face turned into a grin he was holding back. Well. Trying to hold back. “How did you sleep, Y/n?”

Storm watched your eyes widen for a second and the blush heated your face once more. “Fine.” you were forced out. 

Logan just nodded and sipped his coffee. “And you? Storm?”

“Like a baby.”

Logan nodded and smiled. “Good. Good.”

Then the bell went. “I better get going. I guess I’ll see you later. Or should I say tonight?”

Logan watched as your face twisted from nothing, to confusion, to shock to embarrassment to…turning around and hiding it completely. 

“Have a nice day, ladies.”

Covering your face, you hid it on the table, letting your muffled voice speak out from your arms as Storm placed a hand on your back. “How much do you think he heard?”

“Not much…I think.” Storm looked behind her, a pained look on her face for you. “If he had heard it all, he would have gloated more.”

You gave a whimper in pain and Storm placed her hand on the back of your head. “It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“It’s Logan.”

“Okay, so you’re screwed.”

Thankfully, you had managed to avoid Logan all day. Jean had found you hiding in the teacher’s lounge when you knew Logan was teaching. Even him thinking you were alone in your classroom was hard enough. 

“You don’t have anything that could reverse time? Or make me forget all of today?”

Jean smiled, “No. I don’t think so. But Storm told me what happened.”

“Oh, God.” You groaned, placing down your food by your feet and burying your head by your knees. “How many people know?”

“Just me and Storm,” Jean assured you. “And Logan,” she added. 

You groaned again. 

However, now that everything was finally silent, you took time to breathe. Maybe Logan would finally drop it. 

Not that he had said anything to you apart from that morning. But…it was Logan. When it came to you, he’d never let you live it down. 

Stepping a little higher on your feet, you reached into the back of the cupboard to try and find the last box of tea bags. Why Scott had been assigned to stock away the one thing he didn’t drink was beyond you. He always put it at the very back of everything on the top shelf of the cupboard. 

Not even on the first shelf at the back. 

No, he’d rather have you pull a muscle or get yet another bruise from the knobs on the oven. 

Finally reaching it, you stepped back and closed the cupboard door just as someone shouted your name. 

You let out a little scream that was followed by his laughter. 

“Logan! Jesus Christ.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry. Was just too easy.”

You gave him a glare and bent down to pick up your box of tea bags before walking away to the other side of the kitchen where you had left the kettle by the sink. 

“It’s almost midnight. Don’t just sneak up on a girl like that.”

“Forgive me.” He was still smiling. Even with your back to him, you could tell. “But I figured you’d be busy dreaming about me.”

“Having a nightmare, more like.” 

“Oh, come on. You had a dream about me. Admit it.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before pushing down the kettle lid and placing it back on its holder before flicking the switch on. 

“Oh, please. You just want to gloat.”

“No, no. Okay, maybe a little.” Logan lowered his hands before using them to lift himself onto the counter where you stood by the island, chopping up some carrots. “What are you? The Easter Bunny?” Logan lifted a piece before putting it back down. 

With the knife still in your hand, you made direct eye contact as you pushed the knife down hard, listening to the snap of the carrot before returning your gaze to it. 

“So…tell me.” Logan began, picking up yet another piece of carrot yet this time eating it. “What was it about?”

“What was what about?”

“Your dream.”

“Logan,” you sighed. 

“What? Oh come on, we both know you dreamt of me. You could at least tell me what it was about considering you didn’t ask for my consent.”

You looked at him for a moment before walking away, towards the kettle that had finished boiling. 

Pouring the hot water into the cups, back on the island, you returned the kettle to its place, allowing the bags to steep in the water for a while. 

“Come on, you know you want to tell me.”

“I don’t want to tell you anything.”

“Did we kiss?” Logan asked, trying to find his answers. “Did we have sex? Sorry, make love. Did we get married? Did we-”

You sighed, placing down the knife. “We did nothing, Logan. I had a dream. You just happened to be there.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Logan gave a coy look and lent down a little so he was closer to you. “Something happened.”

“Nothing happened.” You pressed. “Trust me, if anything you just asked me happened between me and you in any capacity, I’d be calling it a nightmare.”

Logan pouted and held his hand over his heart. “Oh, how you wound me.”

“You’re a grown man, Logan. Deal with it.”

Logan laughed, taking a couple steps back. “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.” 

“For now.”

Leaning closer to you and over you, Logan reached for the second cup you hadn’t realised you had made of tea and took a handful of carrots with him. 

You berated yourself for having closed your eyes for a split second, letting his touch warm you. 

Logan was not a man you should or would ever go for. 

But Storm was right. 

You did enjoy it. 

You just never wanted Logan to know that. 

Over the following days, you could feel Logan’s eyes on you wherever you went. From the both of you standing by your classroom doors, watching the kids leave your classroom and making sure the right ones came in. 

Some students recently had a tendency to swap certain classes for others. 

Or like when you were at dinner and sat outside. From the grass below where he was coaching a game of baseball, you caught him looking at you and smiling as he turned away. 

So, when you saw him again in the empty hallway, you pushed him inside the nearest classroom. 

At least, what you thought was the nearest classroom. Turned out to be a storage room for school supplies. 

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You know, I think this is against the law, holding someone hostage inside a storage closet.”

“Every day this week, you’ve been staring at me. Why? Do I have something on my face? Or are you trying to see if you’ve suddenly developed telekinetic powers?”

Rather than replying, Logan just looked at you. Was he…studying you?

“You had another dream.”

You reeled back for a moment, trying your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Excuse me?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. Or maybe it was a smirk. 

“You had another dream.” Logan repeated. “Was it any different, or was this just part two.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Logan shrugged. “It’s not every day you learn that someone is in love with you.”

You practically laughed. “In love? With you? Oh, that’ll be the day.”

Logan practically sang what he said next. “Oh, you are so totally falling in love with me.”

“Like hell.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “She’s already prepared the wedding vows.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too, Sweetheart.”

However, before you could reply to Logan’s statement, you both turned and found the door wide open. 

“Rouge,” you almost yelled her name in surprise. 

“Hey. Sorry about…interrupting. I just need some…” She pointed to behind both of you where the stack of boxed pencils were kept. 

Logan reached behind him and handed her a box. “Here you go, kid.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll just uh…” 

Closing the door on both of you, she walked away, hearing a small thud on the door behind her. 

Little did she know it was your head. 

“Be careful, she might be thinking we’re doing something else in here.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. 

“Love you, too, Sweetheart.” Logan repeated, folding his arms and smiling. 

Turning the door handle, you swung open the door and walked out of it. 

It was halfway through the next day before you saw Logan, and it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought you next saw him. 

The heating on the top floor of the school; the floor which both yourself and Logan, along with a couple of other pupils happened to sleep on, hadn’t been working for a month. 

A trustworthy company couldn’t come out to inspect it for at least that time but now that they are finally here, part of you wished they hadn’t turned up at all. 

Because, for as much as you enjoyed talking to people, one of their tradesmen…you would have happily gone your whole life without ever having spoken to them. 

From the minute he walked in the door, he had been eyeing you up like you were his next meal. He always stood too close for comfort, trying his best to leave his hot breath behind your ear whenever he spoke which only made your skin crawl and when he blatantly started flirting with you…you more than obvious distance and replies of “No,” didn’t seem to do the trick. 

“I’m married.”

“I don’t see your husband anywhere, sweet cheeks. We could always get to know each other a little better, if you catch my drift.”

Then Logan turned down the hall. 

Finally spotting him, you gave a smile of relief. 

“Logan!”

He started walking closer to you. 

“Here he is, my husband,” you took him by the arm, putting him between yourself and one of the tradesmen. “Logan.”

Logan looked at you with a slightly confused look whilst you looked both scared, panicked (for two reasons) and was forcing a smile on your face the whole time. 

Logan took a breath and turned back to the tradesman who had everything, save from the actual word written across his head in bold ink, creepy going for him. 

“Can I help you?”

The guy practically tumbled back. “No, no. Just having a conversation. I guess I’ll get back to work.”

You watched as the guy tripped over his own feet trying to scurry away from yourself and Logan, neither of you missing the way the guy told two other workmates of his that you were, in fact, married. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry I dragged you into that but- Why are you smiling?”

Logan shook his head, standing in front of you, pressing his hands behind his back and bouncing on his feet. “No reason.”

You relaxed your face. “He was being a creep. What would you have had me do?”

“Come and got me.” Logan answered honestly. “But…I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“You had written the vows.”

With your arms crossed, your eyebrows relaxed as you looked at him. “I want a divorce.”

“Ooh, do you not remember, Sweetheart? That night you burned the marriage certificate?”

You started walking away. 

“What was it that you said?”

Logan followed after you. 

“Good luck returning me without the receipt. Now, that is better than Shakespeare, don’t you think?”

“I hate you.”

“See, I don’t think you do. Considering…”

“Considering what?”

“The fact that you keep dreaming about me.”

You sighed. “I already told you, it wasn’t about you. You were just in it.”

“Oh, that’s true love if I ever did see it.”

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” You asked as you turned into the kitchen. 

“I wonder what we did this time? Frolic on the beach? Have to say though, I’m not one to frolic anymore, but I could make an exception-”

You stuffed an apple into his mouth before turning to face him. “Remind me, how does the saying go again? An apple a day keeps your wife from killing you in your sleep?”

Walking away, you headed through the back doors and outside leaving Logan to bite down on his apple, all the while smiling. 

Something that you didn’t think through however, was having to keep the rouse up. And it wasn’t long before everyone knew. At least, all of the team knew. 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Xavier said as he entered into the living room where you were sitting on one end of the sofa, curled up with a book, whilst Logan sat diagonal to you across the table, spread out, grading papers. 

“I have to say though, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

Logan smiled, “That makes two of us.”

You just glared from over your book before going back to reading. 

“I have to say also, you both make a very cute couple. Of course, I was betting on it taking an extra couple of months.”

“I think Y/n helped to speed things up a little.”

You continued to glare. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“How could you tell?”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to trying to read your book. 

“Well, I suppose I best leave you both alone. What with you two still being in the honeymoon stage and all.”

Charles chuckled to himself as he left the room, not forgetting to shut the door behind him. 

You and Logan remained in silence for a while longer. However, Logan didn’t miss your gaze. Every couple of minutes you would look up and watch him. He could feel your eyes on him, heating his skin from under all his metal. 

“You know, if you didn’t keep staring at me every five minutes, you might have finished your book.”

“What?”

“Ooh, feigning disinterest. How original.”

After a moment, Logan stood and started walking over towards you. “You know, you could just ask.”

“Ask what?”

Logan sat beside you on the sofa, facing you, leaning in a little closer. “If that’s what it would be like?”

“If…what would be like what?”

Logan’s arms fell to either side of you on the sofa, caging you in. “If that’s what it would be like for us to be in the same room as each other without fighting. I’m sure you’ve thought about me once or twice. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Am I really that transparent to you?”

Logan practically smirked as his head tilted a little and he came closer to you. “You forget I can hear your heartbeat, Sweetheart.”

Your lips parted for a moment, feeling your heart rate increase even more. 

“I think you’re forgetting something else, too.”

“What’s that?”

Logan reached for you. Or rather, behind you. 

Pulling the cord, the lamp came on. 

“You hate me.”

That night, you lay awake in bed, wishing and hoping and praying on every goddamn star in the sky that you wouldn’t dream about him again. 

That you wouldn’t dream about the way his touch warmed yours, or how he would kiss you in all the right places, willing his name from your lips. That you wouldn’t dream about his arms wrapping around you or how, in a dark bedroom alone, you would hear the shower turn off only to have him emerge in a billow of steam like some kind of Greek or Roman God, just wrapped in a towel looking at you like…that. 

 That you wouldn’t dream about him in a way that you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge. That you wouldn’t want to outwardly and knowingly fall in love with him, and have him fall right back. 

But, of course, the wishing and the hoping and the praying didn’t work. 

Because when you next opened your eyes, you were left with the memories of a dream that included not only you teaching – like you did most days of the week – but the classroom emptying to allow both yourself and Logan some privacy where he placed his hand against your stomach and kissed you. “She’s got her daddy’s strength, all right. I feel like I’m being kicked by a horse.”

You woke up with the fading feeling of the gentle yet firm hand Logan had on your stomach, and your heart’s growth fading a little when you realised it was just a dream. 

For the fifth dream in the space of a week, you were beginning to think you were cursed. Or, at the very least, had a problem. 

However, it all changed when you woke up in a sweat. 

Finally, three days had passed and no dreams at all. Nothing to do with Logan. Not even a single thought whilst you were asleep. 

And then things grew dark. 

You had been running. For your life. All around you, stars were falling from the sky, hitting the ground and shaking it from beneath you. Each way you turned kicked dirt into your face, making it harder to breathe. Your lungs felt like they were on fire before you finally reached a set of metal doors. 

Inside, you ran around, dipping in and around different stacked crates, your head whipping around you trying to check all angles. “Where are you?” you kept asking yourself. “Please be here.” 

Then you found him. 

But you heard him first. 

A scream. 

Turning, the room turned with you until you found yourself in some kind of lab. Logan strapped to the table, and just as you stepped forward you found yourself being held back by two soldiers who had to be at least seven feet tall and six feet wide. 

No matter how you moved, you couldn’t. 

They were branding Logan. Burning him with needles and different iron poles and wires. He was screaming in pain, unable to turn his body away from it. 

“Stop! Stop! You’re hurting him! Please! Stop!”

But they couldn’t hear you. No glass was in front of you, but there might as well have been. 

“No! Logan! Please! Stop hurting! Just…Please!”

Logan now turned to look at you. And as he did, your heart broke. He wasn’t walking away from this one. Looking at you, you saw silent tears roll from his eyes and down his cheek. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Logan…” 

Your body was becoming limp in the soldiers arms. 

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m-” With a hot iron rod to his back, he screamed out in pain trying to move away from it. 

You screamed again, willing them to stop hurting him. To hurt you instead. But they wouldn’t. It was killing you. And everyone could see that. Even Logan as he took his last look. 

You called out his name. 

And woke up, calling out his name as you threw yourself to sit up in bed. 

Around you, your entire room was cased in darkness save for the moon-light flooding in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to make out the outline of your room and the things in it. 

It took you a moment to catch your breath long enough to find a clear head to know your body was moving. 

Pulling the covers from you, you made your way out of your room and down the hall before you found his room. Except, as your hand hovered over the knob, it swung open and you stepped back. Whatever breath you had caught in your room was once again gone. 

Logan stood, his eyes adjusting to the light from the hallway, shirtless. Along with the pyjama bottoms Rouge had given him in a set last Christmas. 

“Y/n…I was just coming to check on you. Are you-” 

Surprising Logan, and perhaps yourself, you hugged him. Tight. “Okay?” Logan finished his question but didn’t expect an answer. 

It took him a moment, but he quickly wrapped his arms around you. Even though he could, he didn’t need to hear your heartbeat to know you were nervous, scared and relieved all at the same time. You were still shaking and you were just starting to catch your breath again. 

“I heard you shout me…are you okay?” Logan asked in a soft voice. 

You just tightened your grip. “I thought….I thought…”

Logan shook his head. Feeling your heart bash against your rib cage and into his was enough to let him know now wasn’t the time. 

“You don’t have to explain right now. Come and lie down.”

And you did. 

Letting go of Logan for a moment, he led you inside, shutting the door behind him and lifting the covers for you to slide inside. 

He lay down next to you and held onto your hand, two fingers holding onto your wrist. 

He had more natural light in his room which allowed him to see you a little clearer in the dark as you lay and faced him. 

He pressed your hand over his heart and he spoke to you softer than he ever had before. 

“Just count my heartbeats.”

And you did. 

Logan began counting yours in his head as he held onto your wrist but soon lost count when your gaze eventually met his. 

Your heart rate eventually also began to slow. Rather than having it thunder against your chest, leaving both you and Logan wondering if some kind of Looney Tunes spell had been cast on the school which would make your heart physically leap out of your chest, it beat like normal. 

He watched as your eyes started to grow heavier before they finally closed and your breathing became even. And only once that happened, did he allow himself to relax. 

By the time you woke up, you found your own nose and forehead pressed lightly against Logan’s, your bodies naturally falling closer together as his hand held onto yours whilst his other was pressed under your neck and against your pulse point. 

Then you remembered last night. Your nightmare. Waking up in a sweat. Rushing down the hallway towards his room. Hugging him and never wanting to let go. His own heartbeat against the palm of your hand. His scent enveloping you whilst the heat from his body made you feel safe, warm and relaxed. 

“Hey,”

Softly, you brought your gaze back to Logan’s eyes. You never got to see this side of him. The fresh out of bed – in this case, in – look. 

“Hey.”

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

You swallowed lightly and shook your head. “It was nothing.”

“You had a nightmare.”

You looked away from him for a moment but felt his fingertips press into the back of your neck, begging you to look at him. 

“It wasn’t nothing. Please…talk to me.”

Your gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes, trying to get a read on him. 

He really wanted to know. 

“You died, Logan. At least…I think you did.”

And you went on to explain. About the running, the cave, the metal rods, the screaming, the shouting, the soldiers – all of it. 

Every final detail. 

“All I wanted was to get to you. To make it stop. But I couldn’t. You were screaming in pain and telling me you were going to be okay. I wanted to get you out- I needed to get you out. But every time I tried to move…”

Your voice broke, your eyes filled and Logan felt his own heart break looking at you. How he wished he could erase it. How all he wanted to do in that moment was erase away your pain. 

Logan shushed you a little before pulling his hand from yours that he had continued holding, to allow his arm to go around your back, pulling you flush against him. 

The hand that had been by your neck, pushed to the bottom of your hair line, his fingers tangling with your strands. 

With a pressed kiss to your temple, Logan shook his head. “It was just a nightmare. I’m here. You’re here. We’re both safe. Hey, hey.”

Logan pushed himself back for a moment to be able to look at you. His thumb traced under your eye, brushing the tears away before they could fall down your face. 

“At least this is how I find out, maybe you don’t hate me.”

You laughed a little at that. “You’re a jackass.”

“Maybe,” Logan shrugged. “But you’re in love with me anyway.”

With a scoff and a smile, despite how much you tried not to, you hit Logan in his chest. He chuckled softly for a moment, taking hold of your hand before you could do him any more bodily harm. 

Not that he probably even felt you hit him. He was 90% metal. It probably would bruise you if you actually hit him. 

But when Logan took your hand, things seemed to slow down. 

With his gaze on you, his fingers started tracing your hand. His thumb working its way from your wrist to your palm, all the while his fingers traced up and curled around your own before your hand was flush against his, your fingers only a movement away from falling and intertwining against his. 

And they did. 

Logan took a minute to look at where your hands joined and any control he had over his heartbeat disappeared into an oblivion. 

He looked back at you. 

His fingers locked with yours and you felt your body shift closer towards him. Not fully aware of his own body, Logan had leaned up a little further from his pillow and leaning in closer towards you. 

You were both hesitant, at first. Unsure of what was happening, but fully aware that it was. 

The kiss was soft. Unfamiliar. Neither of you had expected this to happen when you had woken up. In all honesty, neither of you had expected it to ever happen. 

Well, maybe your subconscious. 

But that was a debate for another time. 

However, as it came to an end, reality stuck Logan. He had kissed you. You had come to him because you had a nightmare. You had stayed by his side, in his room, for the rest of the night. And now he had kissed you. 

You were right. 

He was a jackass. 

“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows. Your own internal monologue was having a whale of a time confusing you. Convincing you that the kiss didn’t happen. Then that was always meant to happen. That maybe…maybe it was always meant to feel like that. Or maybe it was never meant to feel like that. 

“Logan…”

For a brief moment, Logan looked confused. Were you going to yell at him? Curse him? 

No. 

Instead, you untangled your hand from his and Logan felt his heart sink. Then stop. 

That same hand slowly, hesitantly, reached for his cheek and you…

Kissed him. 

Again. 

This time, it was more searching and more familiar. More trusted. 

His hand now free, Logan pressed his hand to your own face, drawing you in closer whilst his arm curved around you and he allowed his hand to slip over your shoulder, down you back, towards your hip and up, inside the back of your t-shirt. 

His touch was warming to you. 

Your own hands traced down the side of his neck and up the side of his arm before meeting at the back, your nails scratching at the base of his hairline and neck. 

Finally having moved you onto your back, Logan leaned over you, his weight shifting onto you a little. 

Bringing his hands down to your hips, Logan lifted you a little further up the bed and you let out a small squeal. 

And he smirked. 

“Jackass.”

“You love it.”

Logan caught your smile against his own and pressed further into you, his legs slowly tangling with yours before he found his place locked between them. 

Pushing the hair from your face with his hand, Logan and yourself continued searching each other. Pressing against the boundaries that had been your last partnership together. 

Maybe it would take a short while to find your footing with each other. And maybe it would take even longer before you finally told Logan the truth about your first dream. 

And maybe, when you finally did, he spent the entire night helping you recreate it. Proving that the reality was better and so much more than your dream. 

[veryluckyclovers]

[marisashorror]

Drew this based off an early childhood dream of floating and tumbling downstairs. Recently heard this is a fairly common dream to have. Has anyone here had it?