#Honestly I stand with Scott on this one
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mcybree · 7 months ago
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Thoughts on 3rd life mirror birds. 3rd life big dogs. 3rd life property police. They fascinate me and I think you have thoughts on them but I might be wrong..either way
i do in fact have thoughts on them but i think if i talk about 3l!flower husbands publicly any more rn I’ll get so self conscious I’ll explode on the spot. this being said i have still yet to watch evo but its been on my list for forever bc of 3l!property police specifically… i really love martyns petty grudge against jimmy for those first two episodes he acts like he’s 12 and really pissed off on the playground. anyways i think that martyn going from being concerned for his friend to Just Fucking Lying to split up Scott and Jimmy, because he took personal offense to Jimmy being unwilling to drop everything to go live with him on the spot is the funniest thing in the world. Girl it’s not about you
#asks#for real though i think that martyn played up his offense at jimmy not taking the offer in order to pressure him into agreeing bc—#stuff like “oooh this is your ONE CHANCE for FUN OPPORTUNITY and if you miss it WE’RE NOT FRIENDS ANYMORE!!” typically works on jimmy#but martyn wasnt expecting jimmy to stand his ground on that#And at that point (in martyns mind at least) you Have to commit. so then the mock offense became Real. bc what can you do#he cant just go back on it and go like “sorry i was just worried and wanted you to live with me bc i miss you and—#dont think scott is treating you well” martyn would never be that honest with himself much less jimmy#The offer in itself was somewhat selfish to begin with in my mind as well#He did just want Jimmy to come live with him so he saw the opportunity and jumped at it. he’s an opportunist#but i also think he originally followed jimmy and brought it up with him out of concern. does that make sense#a little while after their falling out i think he fully puts jimmy out of his mind#“Jimmys a lost cause he’s clearly done with me. Why should i care when he clearly has a nice loving husband he cares sooo much about#(eyeroll emoji) lets save grian” <- what i think he was thinking#he didnt mean for jimmy to die#but what happens happens yknow. the games the game#sorry for putting all of my Real Thoughts in the tags i wasnt expecting to write them out honestly#i just think about their conversation on that mountain a lot….bigb moves into that specific spot later and martyn gives him shit about it#Which means something to me also (<- bigb and martyn pilled individual)#etc.etc
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the-somwthing · 1 month ago
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Still thinking about that poll someone made a long time ago about if you watched just scott just jimmy or both for 3L and if you thought flower husbands was healthy or toxic and how the results were very different to what one might expect and I feel like I’ve reasoned WHY they were like that but why tf would I dig up that poll to write an essay on the results when it was so long ago
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magentagalaxies · 2 months ago
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#vent incoming (nothing too serious i just need to complain about being mentally ill)#ugggggh can i just have ONE major creative project that doesn't brush up against my ptsd??? like literally just one???#like with my musical i wrote that was kind of a given bc i was writing that as a (not always healthy) coping mechanism#but now i'm working on this doc and it's like yippee it's not about me and it's a topic i love and working with incredibly supportive peopl#but then that asshole from my college just had to go and traumatize me last semester in a way very tied to the doc#and like luckily i don't have to deal with that asshole anymore. i can just work on my silly little doc and do my silly little interview#with my silly little 65-year-old best friends lmao. except whoops! even tho all that traumatic shit is far behind me#literally the act of preparing for an interview is poking at my ptsd again!! what the fuck!!!#@ my ptsd - The Asshole From Your College Is Not Going To Teleport To Toronto To Ruin Your Interview You Dumbass#it sucks but y'know i'm gonna get through it bc it's worth it to keep going#and honestly this is the best project to be working through shit like that bc scott's also someone who makes very personal art#which can end up brushing up against ptsd. like we literally connected over his ''ptsdiva'' podcast#and he's said the main thing that made me stand out after our first conversation was that i was the first person irl to mention the podcast#and also even if i wish it hadn't gone like this. scott *was* around when i was dealing with being traumatized by that college asshole#and he was so supportive while i was processing my shit and made it clear he'd defend me if he needed to#and i've gotten the opportunity to be there for him during his own rough times while working on this documentary#so like. it'll be fine. i hope i can just feel my feelings and get over it before the interview itself. but if not scott will understand#but yeah fuck that guy from my college and i hope he knows all the kids in the hall would hate him for what he did to me
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rosenclaws · 14 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!!!
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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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tourturestarradio · 4 months ago
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𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
“𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦. 𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧.”
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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Prompt: Vampire reader x Wolverine/Logan Howlet, (platonically)
Warnings: teenage reader, kinda mean Logan
Part 1
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
Professor X stared at you who slept “they appeared last night?” He asked calmly, Jean nodded her head “Storm managed to calm them but they seemed on edge.” She explained, Ororo spoke up “I think it has something to do with these” she muttered pointing to the bruises and cuts you had all over your body.
Charles wheeled himself over to you “they didn’t harm anyone did they?” Ororo shook her head “apart from Logan no, frightened one but that’s all, Logan is cleaning up the mess they made in the kitchen they also seem to be non verbal but we don’t don’t known if it’s on purpose or if they just choose not to speak” she explained looking over you.
Charles placed his hands at the sides of your head traveling through your mind carefully. It was chaotic inside of your head no type of organization going on. Thoughts and messy memories being thrown around, It honestly started to overwhelm him as he backed away. 
As if on cue you sat up growing claws and backing away eyes darting around frantically “hey hey okay” Ororo was quick to calm you, your heart was pumping fast “it’s okay we were only helping” you looked down at your body seeing you were wrapped in bandages.
You looked at the bald man standing up shakily “good morning, I didn’t mean to frighten you” he said with a polite smile, “my name is Charles Xavier, nice to meet you Y/n” during his travel through you head he had caught your name. 
You looked at him questionably “I can tap into your mind” he hummed tapping the side of his head, you looked him up and down “Y/n what nice name, I see you’ve taken a liking to Ororo” the woman with white hair and brown skin smiled at you. 
He pointed to the other woman “that is Jean grey, she helped taking care of your wounds.” You looked at the woman with red hair she also smiled at you “hello”. 
You stayed close to Ororo “and this is Scott,” you tilted your head walking close to him staring at his glasses, reaching for them he stepped away “careful I can’t take these off” you frowned and went back over to the white haired woman.
“We’ve gotten you some clean clothes if you’d like Ororo could show you around” you picked up the clothes you grabbed your wrist but something was wrong looking around you patted around trying to feel for something “is something wrong Y/n?” Ororo asked.
Your eyes scanned the room as you pointed to your wrists, you couldn’t speak but you made small noises Jean came over to you “what’s the matter? Are the bandages too tight?” You shook your head  frantically. 
Tears brimmed in your eyes as you started claw at your arms, Charles tapped into you head again stopping you from harming yourself, one thing kept flashing through your head it was a bracelet. It was gold with red ruby’s embedded into the bracelet. 
He looked over at Jean “a bracelet their looking for a bracelet.” Your head snapped over looking at the him hurrying up to him you nodded “I saw a bracelet on them when I was treating them.” 
She patted her pockets feeling for it, grabbing it out of her pocket she called you over to her. “Here safe and sound” her tone was warm and comforting, snatching it from her you put it on carefully holding it close to your chest.
You seemed to relax once you had it on, causing the others to look at each other “that bracelet does it mean a lot to you” you looked at Ororo nodding slowly. 
She smiled “I’ll make sure it stays safe with you.” You grabbed the clothes, about to take of the medical gown but Ororo stopped you “hold on let’s get you to a room okay?” You nodded following the woman as she left the room.
“Seems like they have favorites” Scott joked, “yeah well she’s the only one who hasn’t used her powers on them” Scott nodded before turning his attention to Charles “what’s up with the kid?” He shook his head.
“They have seen many horrors their mind it’s scrambled broken trying to rebuild itself, no wonder they are always so on guard.” Jean stared at where you once stood “is it a mistake to let them stay here?” She asked, Charles shook his head “no, it’s never a mistake to help someone in need. They just need help clearing their head” he replied.
Scott spoke “so they’re a mutant what’s their power?” Charles thought back on your memories “they seem to have vampiric abilities, speed, strength, hypnotizing, and they can turn themselves into a bat. However they don’t seem to have much control over their powers” he explained.
Scott scoffed “that explains a bit, why don’t they speak?” Charles glanced at Jean “she’ll be able to explain that” Jean seemed to be pulled out of her daze “what…oh when I was patching them up they had a wound on their neck I think someone most likely stabbed them and damaged their throat.” She commented.
Charles looked down “that child has had a rough life from the start, I want to give them a new one a better one”
.
You followed Ororo around as she explained the different teachings at the school you hung on every word she said “now our job is to help people, not harm them” she hummed, you looked down the ground “you hurt people when they are trying to attack you, that’s called protecting yourself.” 
You held your stomach “you hungry?” She asked, you nodded your head again “well, you ate up most of the food we had last night, and left behind quiet the mess behind” you looked down in shame.
“Now don’t think you aren’t in trouble, you scared one of the children and hurt someone so before you can eat a proper meal you need to help clean up the mess you made.” She said, you frowned “don’t give me that look” 
You let out a sigh walking into the kitchen behind Ororo “Logan, you’re gonna be getting some help” she exclaimed, “why do I have to clean up after that brats mess?” Ororo rolled her eyes “because you were the one who decided to attack them instead of defusing the situation. Anyway they’ll be helping you clean up” 
You poked your head into the kitchen seeing the man dubbed as Logan. You glared at him growing out your claws but Ororo stopped you “what did I tell you?” You retracted them “now all you have to do is help clean up that’s all.” You nodded, waking into the kitchen “now I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit try not to tear each other apart.” She commented.
You stood there awkwardly staring not knowing what to do. Logan looked over to you “you gonna help or not?” You picked up the food on the floor not knowing what to do you put it back into the box, “what are you doing? Don’t put that back in there. You throw it out” Logan huffed snatching the box away from you. 
You made a smug face at him grabbing more stuff off the ground you threw it away “what did you come here for?” You glanced at him, not saying anything “not a big fan of taking are you?” you shook your head. 
You held up a piece of food “you were hungry?” You nodded, “why didn’t you just say so?” He joked, snickering to himself. You looked at him unamused, he rolled his eyes “if you needed help you could have just knocked at the front door instead of sneaking in we would have helped you.” 
You paused your movement for a moment before getting back to cleaning. Logan looked at you “look kid…I’m sorry I attacked you.” You looked at him blinking nodding your head, pointing to yourself you pointed back to him “what’s that mean?” You pointed to yourself then to him again.
It clicked for him “oh..you’re sorry for hurting me?” You nodded your head he smirked “hm maybe we just had a bad first impression” you nodded again. 
“I’m Logan.” He introduced, you blinked as if waiting for something “…right can’t talk…I’ll ask professor X later.” He muttered to himself.
You slowly walked up to him slowly, grabbing his hand you examined it “what are you doing?” He asked, you looked at his hand pressing your thumb into his knuckles. 
He realized you were trying to see his blades. He slowly slid his blades out you held your hand up growing your nails longer, he retracted his blades and you did the same. He slid out one claw, you copied him and grew out your middle nail. 
You copied him carefully maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought. 
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
A/n: *insert really awesome authors note*
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jellieland · 1 year ago
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"You know," says Jimmy smugly, "I think second is the best spot to die in, actually."
"Really," says Mumbo, exasperated.
"Yes, I don't know what you're so happy about," says Lizzie. "You barely lasted ten minutes more than me."
"Doesn't matter. Not out first, baby!" He crows, triumphant, to the neverending void.
"And you killed me last session!"
"...Yes, I, uh, I'm sorry about that one. Sort of. Mostly," he says, momentarily cowed.
"I can't believe you people," says Lizzie. "They didn't have a funeral for me. I died first, and you got one, and they didn't even have a funeral for me!" She sounds indignant, but a look of genuine hurt crosses her face for a moment.
"I'm going to be honest, Lizzie," says Mumbo awkwardly. "I think they had bigger things to worry about. I- I think Joel was quite sad about it, though. If that helps?"
"I suppose it's better than nothing." She crosses her arms.
"But- wait, hang on. Jimmy?" says Mumbo abruptly. "Did you say you wanted to go out second?"
"No!" Jimmy protests. "I just think if you have to go out, then second is sort of ideal, really, if you think about it!"
"No!" says Mumbo, indignant. "No, surely third is better, actually! And to extend that logic, fourth would be better as well, and fifth, and- well, you get the idea. Anyway, my point is that I did better than both of you!"
"Hey, don't bring me into this!" says Lizzie.
"Anyway, you're wrong," says Jimmy, back to being smug again.
There is a short silence.
"You, uh. You gonna elaborate on that one, buddy?" asks Mumbo.
"Well," says Jimmy. "Obviously going out first is terrible. Would not recommend. I don't know why anyone would do it, honestly, I know I would never-"
"You're going on my list," says Lizzie, cheerfully.
"Wait wait wait, no, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am!"
"Hmm." Lizzie narrows her eyes. "Acceptable. For now."
A few moments pass.
"You may continue," she says.
"Right," says Jimmy. "What was I saying?"
"You were being wrong about how the ranking in this game works," offers Mumbo.
"No I wasn't!" says Jimmy. "Just, let me explain. Now, you obviously don't want to go out first, sorry Lizzie, but it's true."
"I will concede that point," says Lizzie. "It wasn't great."
"But—have you seen how they get?"
"How they... get?" Mumbo frowns. "What do you mean?"
"The people who don't die."
"I- now, I don't know if you remember this," says Mumbo, "But third is a new record for me, so I really don't know how you expect me to know that."
"Anyway," interjects Lizzie, "Mumbo and I have only done this once before. I mean, I guess people started losing it a bit once you two died, but it wasn't that much different to how it already had been. Although I wasn't around for that long at that point."
"Yes, but, it-" Jimmy frowns. "I haven't seen much of it either. But there's something- I don't know how to explain what I mean. Maybe you haven't noticed, but there's stuff with Grian, Scott, Pearl."
He stops, sighs. Looks at the ground.
"Martyn's going to be alone, now," he says.
"Well," says Lizzie, a little acerbic. "You don't have to have people die for that to happen, you know."
Jimmy gives her a look that is a combination of sheepishness and genuine regret. "Ah. Yeah. I guess not."
"So you're right," says Lizzie. "I don't know what you mean."
"...I did feel bad," says Jimmy, quietly.
"You... did?" asks Lizzie. "What about?"
Jimmy looks at her, then off to the side. "...When I killed you."
"Oh."
"I really didn't mean to," he says. "I felt bad. It wasn't satisfying. It was just... a person I cared about. Dead. Because of me. Because I acted without thinking, because I wasn't paying attention."
"...Oh." says Lizzie, softly.
"And that was when I knew you would come back," says Jimmy.
Lizzie and Mumbo exchange glances, unsure.
"I'm good with second," says Jimmy. "I think it's the closest you can get to winning, actually."
They stand there, silent, for some time.
"Well," says Mumbo eventually. "I still feel like third is a bit better, though."
"Mumbo!" cries Jimmy.
"Mumbo, come on, we were just having a moment!" says Lizzie.
"Yes well, look, I really need this, guys," says Mumbo, shifting his weight from side to side. "I don't know if you know this, but I've had a really bad day. It was just terrible!"
"I think we've all had pretty bad days, Mumbo!" says Lizzie, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we all died!"
"Yes, I- I had picked up on that, actually."
"I don't know," says Jimmy. "My day was great!"
They keep talking, and bickering, and the emptiness stretches off into the distance.
It's nice, not to have to be there alone.
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fairyyobrien · 7 months ago
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Avoided Love
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Heya this will be my first Stiles imagine. Hopefully it doesn’t suck lol. If y’all like it please reblog it or give me a follow or not. If anyone wants to request an idea please feel more than welcome to! Anywaysss…
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(This takes place in Season 3b. Void Stiles x reader) *no major warnings just be prepared to be turned on by badass stiles* (make out sesh)
You wake up to a loud thump next to your bed. You rub your eyes and quickly sit up. Turning your head you notice a familiar face.. “stiles” you whisper.
“Hello love” he leans down and caresses your cheek in his hand. “What the hell are you doing here.. it’s 3:30” you look up at the time on your clock. You glance back at him examining his features.. he looks off, dark bags circle under his eyes.. his skin is extra pale and his amber eyes are a darker shade than usual even under the fluorescent lamp on your nightstand.
“You really are a beautiful little thing” he says moving a strand of your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. Your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. You had always had feelings for Stiles since you’ve known him, which had been since you two were in the 6th grade. You never acted on it because he seemed to always been drawn to Lydia Martin.. what you didn’t know was that he was drawn to you more.
“W-what.. are you feeling okay Stiles?” you ask trying to ignore the words that just rolled off his tongue. You felt like you were dreaming, on cloud 9.
“I feel… insatiable” he whispered leaning even closer now, you swore you felt a chill run down your spine. “I want to kiss you” he whispered again pulling you out of your thoughts. “Let me kiss you love..” he cups your face with both hands looking deep into your eyes. “O-okay” you whisper leaning in. He smirks. His lips are soft but the kiss feels a bit rough. He moves past your lips to your cheek, then to your jaw, then down to your neck. At this point his kisses have gotten rougher. You moan in response and he smirks against your skin once again. Your hands run through his hair while he kisses down to your chest.
You both stop dead in your tracks when you get a phone call. You quickly pick up the phone “sorry it’s just Scott..” you whisper. You pick it up slightly worried and confused. You’re now standing up at the end of your bed. “Hey. Is everything okay..?” you whisper slightly panicking just like you do everytime one of the pack members called you at this hour.
“Y/N are you alone right now”
“please tell me you’re alone” he panics. “U-um no stiles is here..” you look up at him. He’s staring right back at you smirking for the third time.
“Okay Y/N you need to get away from him. That’s not Stiles! He’s possessed by an evil spirit. I will explain everything once I get there. Just whatever you do Y/N be careful and don’t let him trick you. I’ll be there as soon as I can” He quickly hangs up and you turn around, the familiar face gone out of sight.
You sit at the edge of your bed confused and frightened. You shake and touch your lips, they feel dry and ice cold. You just made out with stiles for the first time.. except it wasn’t really stiles.
-
Sorry if this was short but I’m honestly proud of it! Let me know if y’all want me to make a second part I kinda feel like it needs one.
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pandapetals · 14 days ago
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Haircut
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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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star--stilinski · 6 days ago
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Going off on your “stiles being accidentally hot”. Think of like a beach date but then you notice how all the girls are looking at him but he’s obliviously stiles not realizing he’s gained muscle from all his lacrosse training
(Then you prove he’s yours) WHAT?! Who said that?!
(Sorry I’m a freak)
did i make this ask from a different account?? i feel like we type the same. also that last part looks like the one meme of the spongebob fish looking back... ykwim?? too lazy to find it.
i would like to apologize to all blondes about to read this fic. my condolences.
scott is spraying stiles down, head-to-toe with SPF 50. the way the sunscreen looks on his skin as it soaks in is downright criminal, honestly, and it seems you're not the only one who's noticed.
there's a pretty blonde bitch staring at your boyfriend.
okay, well, wait a second there. she's not a bitch for admiring him. there's been no tell that he's taken.
yet.
you frown and take a drink of the margarita lydia asked you to hold. there's a lipstick stain on the can where her lips were imprinted, but that doesn't sway your gaze from the blonde as she takes notice to his newfound abs. they're not crazy chiseled like derek- but they're definitely there.
meanwhile, bless his heart, your idiot boyfriend is singing along to the song blasting from the speaker scott brought, and he's using the sunscreen bottle as a mic. he turns to you and points as he sings the lyrics like the performance is just for you, and this does make you smile.
"is that a fruity marg? for me?" he drops the sunscreen and takes lydia's drink from your hand. before you can protest, he's already taken a big swig, and there's a shine on his bottom lip when he swallows. "that is really good. wanna taste?"
"what? i already had a taste. besides, it's-"
and then he's kissing you, pressing the strawberry flavor into your mouth. you flush bright pink and he pulls away, bobbing his eyebrows at you with a grin. "good, right? sorry, you just look really nice in that swimsuit."
you're aware, with the way his eyes dip down to peruse over your cleavage and hips, that 'nice' is code for 'unjustly fuckable.' and you kinda wish he would say it. but alas, scott is calling his name to throw a football back and forth and you brought your book for a reason, so you part ways with a mutual look of longing.
from your spot on the beach, the veiw is great. the white sands, the pretty waves, your boyfriend's pecs, the blue sky. really, the scenery is hard to beat. stiles' hair is stuck to his forehead after getting dunked by isaac and liam. oh, and your book is good too. you've been stuck on the same page since you sat down.
and there's two younger teenage girls fawning over stiles under a canopy next to you guys. lydia swirls her half-empty drink and scoffs at their giggling, glancing at you. "don't tell me they're the ones getting to you."
"what ever could you mean?" you bat your lashes at her dramatically. "they're just young girls who can appreciate hard work on a man, anyway."
"those aren't young girls." lydia nods past you, eyes darting between something. when you turn your head to look, there's that gorgeous blonde again with what seems to be her friend. both of them are slim and tall, and totally hotter than you. and eyeing stiles, much more boldly this time.
"careful babe, you're showing your teeth." lydia turns back to her own book and languidly flips the page. you close your eyes and huff out a sigh.
"it's probably just the newfound biceps, right? and the hair. he deserves some flattery."
"go cool off, i can't focus with the smoke blowing out of your ears." lydia hums without looking up.
you stand. "i'm gonna go for a swim."
"watch for sharks."
you glare at the two women across the way. "yeah, i will."
but just as you begin to make your way to the ocean, the football the boys were throwing veers off course and rolls over to the two younger teenagers, stopping right at their bare feet. you pause, watching as if in slo-mo as stiles jogs up and apologizes, seeming oblivious to their blushing and giggling. one of them hands him the ball back, and he beams down at her gratefully. they squeal when he jogs off.
you don't realize your fists are clenched until you're already in the water. they're little girls! that is totally normal! why are you being so territorial, as if he's gonna even know they like him!
you splash some water on your face, calming at the gentle sway of the tide, the cool temperature of the ocean lapping at your skin. yeah, you're fine. it was just a blip. just a blip. you're chill.
you turn towards the beach to beckon lydia in, but halt as you see blonde bitch and her croonie talking to stiles closely. you're so not fucking chill right now-
cool it, take a breath. you clench your jaw and shut your eyes, grounding yourself. you will not play overbearing girlfriend just as soon as stiles is getting attention. he needs to know that you're not lying when you call him hot and sexy and pretty and everything else that is true. this is perfect confirmation.
your eyes open because you hear a pretty, high-pitched laugh. it's the blondie's equally-gorgeous friend, who tucks her hair back and bats her lashes at him. he rubs the back of his neck, which he usually only does when you get suggestive with him.
and then blondie caresses his perfect, freckled bicep.
oh hell no.
you storm out of the water and right up to their little conversation, grabbing stiles by the wrist. "hey, can i talk to you for a sec?"
but you're already moving, practically dragging him along behind you as you make your way to the edge of the open beach, where there's a large rock sectioning off what's open and what's not. you pull stiles around it, stomping through shallow water to reach a completely empty, private side of the beach.
you don't think about who could stumble over or how the long grass tickles your ankles- you're already pressing stiles up against the large rock and kissing him blind.
he makes an "mmph!" noise when you first crash your lips onto his, but enthusiastically returns the kiss with a hand sliding to the back of your head. you barely come up for air as you lap your tongue into his mouth roughly, hands splaying across his naked, smooth torso. you press your whole body up against his, needing more more more of him. you need him all over you, need him to know who he chose and why. your mouth travels to his neck, and it tastes salty sweet when you start the makings of a dark hickey.
"hoooly- i'm- i'm, uh, not suggesting you stop, like at all, but i am a bit curious on what i, uh- fuck- did to get here? j-just so i can..." his words trail off as your fingers trace underneath his swim trunks. a strangled noise leaves his throat when you press your hips into his growing erection, raking your teeth lightly across the new mark at the same time.
"stupid fucking girls practically throwing themselves at you," you mumble bitterly before going in for another heated kiss. "as if it's not obvious we're together."
he pulls back from the kiss and you open your eyes to glare at him, only to be met with a cocky smirk and wide eyes. "are you saying you're jealous?"
you pull your body off of his, shoving his shoulder lightly. "don't look so happy! she was practically stripping you naked with her eyes."
he cups your neck with his hand, reminding you of how big it is. stiles' eyes lose the self-assured glint and go soft, flitting all over your face as he parts his lips. "you're not mad, are you?"
"at you? no." you feel his other hand slide around your hip and over the top of your ass, pressing your body back up against his not-so-subtly. "at the girls practically prowling around you like you're some piece of meat? yes."
his eyes zero in on your lips as you lick them, furrowing his brow a bit like he has to focus in order to finish his thought. "i didn't even know she was flirting. i wouldn't have..."
but you don't let him finish, stretching up to kiss again and he deepens the kisses quickly, his hands pulling you in. you mouth down stiles' neck and chest, slowly sinking to your knees in front of him. before you got far, he was all breathy encouragement. but when you look up at him, face to face with his happy trail and low-hanging trunks, his jaw goes slack and his eyes glaze over in anticipation.
"oh, are we- are we doing-? okay, yep, yepyepyep i am very cool with this, yeah-" he helps you slide his trunks far down enough as you kiss along his subtle v-line. he sighs, brows upturned for you. "all yours, it's all yours."
you nod, smirking to yourself when he has to clamp a palm over his mouth as your hands begin what your tongue will soon replace.
stiles stumbles out from behind the rock a little while after you, red in the face and littered in hickeys. scott turns to you with a scrunched up nose, feigning disgust. "dude. seriously?"
you blink at him, wide eyed. "what? i was just checking on a jellyfish sting!"
lydia raises her drink to you, not looking up from her book. "impressive time."
"you think so?" you smile sweetly at her.
"unless he's always that quick."
"you guys are disgusting." scott gags as he escapes you two.
im gonna be late for work because of this
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yagirlpurplefox12 · 4 months ago
Text
Logan’s Firecracker
(Logan Howlett x Female Reader Insert)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“When you get to young Xavier, tell him to find me. Young me would have loved to have been in a school like that,” you pant out to Logan with blood dripping down your nose.
“(F/N)—!”
“Now go, I’ll hold them off.”
Tears start to make his vision blurry as he clenches his jaw…very unwilling to let you go but he knows he has to. The Sentinels have taken over and he has to go back in time to stop this from ever happening…but that means losing you…
“(F/N), I…”
Looking from his face to the door, you know the others are holding off as best as they can but dying at drastically quick rate. Focusing back to Logan, you give a small carefree smile and kiss him on the lips. The first and last kiss.
“I love you too. Now go fix the past and tell Xavier to find me. Bye, Logan.”
Getting away from his grasps, you salute the others in the room and lock the door behind you. In front of you is carnage and more Sentinels than before. Getting ready, you feel the space and gravity around you and send out a burst of gravikinesis force sending the Sentinels flying.
You know you are going to die like your friends before you. But be damn if you let them get to Logan and the rest of hope without a fight.
And a fight did you bring.
Along with a horrible death in the process.
But technically that never happened.
Now Logan stands in X’s office as he is given the details on what happened after 1973. Seeing Jean, Scott, and everyone else, he’s happy to have everything back to how it should have been. Though, there is one person on his mind he can’t forget.
“Logan, as I said before you have a class to teach. Now since you just learned about the changes, I’ll be in the classroom with you if you want.”
“That may be best,” Logan grumbles, still thinking about his girl. About you. A strong woman who made him realize love can come anytime and in surprising ways. A young woman originally from shield who had gravitational powers. You were also much younger than him meeting him when you were 23. But as the two years past with the both of you fighting side by side, more than a friendship blossomed but was never dealt with considering the uncertainties of death.
Arriving to the classroom, Logan notices some young friendly faces that either died battling the Sentinels or should be with Magneto instead of here.
After class greets him and Professor X and the bell rings, the door suddenly slams open and a flustered, short, young adult with a shit eating grin on her face chuckles nervously.
“Sorry I was late Logan, training got a little fun now that I can do some cool shit.” Professor X shakes his head at your language in front of the kids as the class laughs at your seemingly normal everyday behavior.
Seeing you, Logan can’t help but to feel that tight feeling around his heart and throat. Looking down at Xavier, the older bald man smiles at him and nods.
Logan then looks back at you and watches you.
“(F/N),” he starts, catching your attention.
“ I know, I know, language. It’s a hard adjustment.”
“How about taking over today’s lesson?”
Your eyes widen and you start to giggle out of nervousness and anticipation, “Wait, for real?”
He nods and tells Professor X he’s not needed.
‘How about you take the day off and be with her? Since you’re officially back now, I think you deserve some peace.’
Logan smiles and nods his head, Xavier now rolling to the door but not before telling you to behave. As he sits back and watches you teach the class in a VERY entertaining way keeping the young teens attention, he feels a burning sensation behind his eyes. He’s grateful he doesn’t remember anything after 1973, for it would honestly be super awkward if he had to see you as a child. He’s grateful Xavier listened and, just like he told Logan in his office before they headed to the classroom, Xavier found you just a week before you accidentally kills your family and everyone in the apartment building. He’s just really happy to see you, alive, and as geeky and animated as ever. Like you’ve never changed. No matter what pst or future, you’ll always have the lovely, bubbly spirit. Once class ends, Logan gives them homework and as Xavier promised he let everyone know there will be no history class for the rest of the day, surprising you.
“(F/N), how about we go out and enjoy our free day?”
“….really?”
Logan can’t help to feel flustered but he knows he has to do this, he doesn’t know if you feel for him the same as in the other timeline, but he would regret it if he never tried.
“Well I’m on my period and I’ve been craving strawberry ice cream and Puerto Rican food,” you slide up to him with the smiles he wants you to wear everyday as long as you live. He wonders if he himself before ever pulled a move on you, whether that is taking you out in a date or simply hugging you. He gives back your smiles and gives in to his feelings for you. Reaching behind your head, he grasps the back and messages between the lower part of your head and your nape. “Let me get you those well deserved treats.” Your cheeks flush from his actions and words but your smile only grows bigger. “Well, let’s go then! Oooh, and last week you promised me a ride on your bike, let’s go,” you grab his hand and he lets you pull him towards the garage. You answered is unheard question. He is meant to like you and from your hopping and smiling and even flushing his arm to your body, you are meant to like him as well. Your arms squeezes to him and you lay your protected head on his back the whole ride to the closest town that you said has Puerto Rican food.
It’s lunch time by then but since it’s a workday not many are out. He buys all the food you want and lets you feed him yourself of everything he never had. The whole day, the two of you were getting closer and closer. “Logan, are you feeling alright?”
“Hmm?”
The two of you are ending your day licking ice cream after spending and hour and a half at a book store. Piles of bags are next to him, every book he saw you remotely interested, he bought.
Had to get a lot of gay manga but if it makes you happy, it makes him happy.
“Well, you’re always so broody and very cold many times. You also have a tendency to yell at me and abuse the hell out of me during training, but for the past month or two you’ve been very nice to me…and today…I guess what I’m saying is don’t be an asshole and get my hopes up. I know you know I like you, I mean since I was 15 I’ve literally asked you to be my prom date every year. Was this day just to tell me that I’ll never have a chance or what?”
Logan freezes for a moment, and watches your face get saddened per second. He remembers from the other timeline of you being insecure about…well everything. You were just always joyful while making stupid untrue comments about yourself. He’s not gonna let you think like that.
Gently grabbing your chin, he guides your face to his and wait, seeing if you’ll object. Your eyes and the lick to your lips give him no objection. Moving forwards, both of your mouths collide to a deep and passionate kiss. Your bodies feeling the same tingle and longing. Dropping your ice cream to the ground, you grasp his hair, pulling to get a deeper kiss as he groans in your mouth. “I love you (F/N), I want to take you on dates every weekend, treat you like the queen you are, and god I want you so badly,” he states between kisses. You can’t help but feel for him the same, “I love you too Logan. I just can’t believe a hunk of a man like you would be interested in flabby me.”
“Don’t talk about yourself that way, you’re gorgeous inside and out,” he growls at you.
You guys headed home right after that, but Logan wants to take his time with you. To cherish you. You invite him to your room to watch the Child’s Play series, cuddling, and eating popcorn and snacks. He kisses your head and inhales your scent. He scents your shampoo, perfume, skin, and even the little musk of want coming from under the covers. “Love you Logan, can you sleep here, with me?”
“Of course, love you too you little firecracker.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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heartbreakgrill · 1 year ago
Text
stiles stilinksi: breakable heaven; pt. 1, “fever dream high in the quiet of the night, you know that i caught it.”
description: situationship x stiles stilinksi?? fuck yeah. this part is really long and honestly is just setting the story up, so just expect tension, pining, and silliness. part two soon! enjoy xo
OTHER STORY PARTS linked here.
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“someone needs to sex me right now!”
danny slams his locker shut, fed up with stiles’ griping and groaning about his lack of sexual experiences. he knows he should just mind his business, but part of him felt bad for stiles. he wasn't an ugly guy. loud, annoying, and dramatic? yes. but, nonethless, danny knew what it was like to feel unwanted, ugly. stiles deserved to experience that validation. besides, maybe getting laid would chill him out a bit.
“okay,” danny leanes against his locker, annoyance and exasperation in his tone.
stiles turns towards him around, curious, “really?”
danny examines stiles’ eager response, and realizes the younger boy thinks they’ve just made a sex pact. danny cringes, “ew, absolutely not. you are not my type.”
stiles falters, eyes falling from danny's. “aw. okay.”
danny furrows his brows. stiles was...so very unique. he almost drops the subject. but, then, as stiles goes to turn back towards scott, danny sighs, garnering his attention again. “i do have a friend.”
stiles perks up again, the light glinting up his brown, mischievous eyes. “oh? a friend? a girl space friend? not some little twink, right? you mean, like, a female woman?”
danny nods with a slight roll of his eyes. “yes, dumbass, a girl space friend. my friend got her heart broke over the summer, so she’s not looking for anything serious. she just wants to hang. and, i think she’d be into you.”
stiles grabs scott by the shoulders and shakes his friend around like they have just won the state championship. scott is thrown off balance, and grabs at the lockers beside him for support. danny pats stiles’ shoulders as he passes by.
“i’ll send your her number," is his closing statement. it seals the deal for stiles.
he breaks out into a dance, shaking his fists in the air, wiggling his little hips. “i’m gonna get laid,” he sings out with his eyes squeezed shut from the width of his grin. “i’m gonna have seeeeeeex!”
scott, balanced on his feet now, shifts his backpack between shoulders. “stiles?” he calls out, intruding his friend’s celebration.
stiles cannot hear him. so, scott grabs stiles by the shoulders, facing him with seriousness in his tone. “stiles!”
scott has always been supportive of any opportunity for stiles to lose his v-card. although, this time, it seems his friend is only obsessing over the idea of not being murdered, rather than actually losing his virginity. anyways, scott had always thought it would happen with someone stiles cared about, like lydia, or another girl he would develop a relationship with. not some one night stand. not something this casual. he wants to express his concern, knowing his friend is vulnerable and easily tainted.
stiles is shocked by scott's loud voice, taken out of his trance involuntarily. “what?!”
the bell rings. scott, a newfound academia, begins to pull stiles along with him through the hallway, so they’re not late to chemistry. he wraps his arm around stiles’ shoulder, “do you seriously think that you-“ he pokes his chest, “stiles stilinksi, can just chill with a girl?”
stiles winces at scott’s finger and rubs his chest after it retracts. “first of all- ouch!” he groans, “second of all, yes! i think i can just chill.”
he puffs his chest, straightens his jacket dramatically. all mannerisms he exhibits within this second after his proclamation guarantee that he, stiles stilinksi, can not, in fact, just chill.
stiles brushes past scott, leading the way into chemistry class. scott watches from the door as his friend slides into his seat, dumping his backpack on the floor, flicking his head at lydia across the room. she purses her lips and looks away. stiles slouches in his seat. scott didn’t need a werewolves intuition to see so plainly that stiles would get his heart broken.
Danny: hey stiles. here's y/n's number. don't hurt her or i stg ill beat ur ass. enjoy ;)
"danny, why the fuck are you selling me off like some pimp?"
danny flinches at the sound of her voice, looking up from his phone with a wary expression. he didn't exactly get his friend's permission to give away her phone number. but, at this point, he didn't really care. he loved her, but the poor girl needed dick more than a camel in the desert needed water. she kept claiming she'd have a hot girl summer- which turned into get augusted by some stupid college boy. and, the fall was already starting. he knew she wouldn't make it through senior year without human touch. she was starting to shrivel away into nothingness.
danny, leaned up against his locker, rolled his eyes as y/n came to a halt in front of him. "girl, be for real."
she crossed her arms, "you be for real, bitch! i did not ask for some junior boy to be stinking up my line with his horny ass!" y/n waved her phone in front of his face.
danny grabbed the device from her and read aloud the text stiles had sent her. "hey, there! this is stiles stilinski. you probably don't know me, but we have a mutual friend, danny. gay danny, not republican, sophomore danny. anyways, gay danny told me you were dtf? we should totally hook up sometime! let me know, and we can chill or something!"
"oh, my god," y/n smashed her face into her hands, redder than the stripes on danny's t-shirt. "who the fuck texts like that? that is so- oh, my god. i'm gonna block him."
danny quickly shut down the idea, "no, no, no! i know this message makes him seem like a literal incel. but stiles is cute! he's kinda sweet. i mean, ive known him since he was on the jv team four years ago. he's kinda awkward and a little weird, but i think you'd like him."
she looked at her friend with a cringed expression. "i trust and love you so much. but this...this text message is a giant red flag."
"okay, valid," danny pointed, handing her back her phone. "man, i was really hoping this would work out. listen...why don't you at least meet him? come to the lacrosse game tonight. i'll introduce you guys afterwards. maybe i'll organize a little post-game outing to the diner or something."
y/n shrugs throughout danny's idea. but, she eventually relaxes her shoulders, and becomes a little more willing. "i mean...i guess. but, do not leave me alone with him! please! i do not want to end up on dateline."
"girl, please, he couldn't harm a fly. he's got arms the size of spaghetti noodles."
y/n giggled at danny's description. "i keep trying to picture him in my mind, but i just can't. do you have a pic?"
"he was in our english class last year, but he had a buzz cut then-"
"red flag."
"shut up," danny shoved her arm. "here," he whips out his phone and finds stiles' instagram. there's a bunch of pictures of his jeep, and y/n doesn't hesitate to point out how this, too, is a red flag. to which danny replies, "the color of anything doesn't matter when y'all are fucking."
danny finally swipes enough on stiles' recent post to find one of him and scott, at an amusement park or something a few weeks ago. they have their arms around each other's shoulders and are both throwing up peace signs. y/n sees scott first and recognizes him, "he's the co-captain, right? he glew up, for real."
danny nods in agreement, "yeah, but this one's stiles."
he zooms in with his thumb and pointer finger. stiles grin and his sweet brown eyes catches y/n's gaze. she smiles at the sight, "aw, okay. yeah, he's adorable. i'll meet him."
y/n and danny are unaware, but scott and stiles are at the end of the hallway, whooping and hollering at the plans they haven't even been made directly aware of. scott is still feeling wary for his friend, but stiles can't think of anything at all when he lays his eyes on her.
sure, the thoughts he's having are impure, like how she'd look naked, under him, with her lips plump and ripe from his teeth. but, he's also thinking about how beautiful she is.
nothing about this situation was going to end up casual. in fact, it would probably end in flames.
y/n attended lacrosse games every once and a while, in support of her cousin, issac, and danny. she normally had to work, but she managed to get her coworker to switch shifts with her. she wasn’t a sports kinda gal, but it was fun to be an active teenager every once a while. danny let her borrow his away jersey, and she wore that over a long sleeves shirt. it was three sizes too big, but it helped her stay warm, considering it was freezing outside.
y/n went with three other’s in their loose friend group: megan and leo, the longterm straight couple, and jack. they found seats towards the back, and huddled in with the rest of the crowd. y/n caught danny’s gaze from the bench. he was adjusting his gloves, and y/n waved crazily when she saw him.
danny waved back, wide grin on his face. he glanced around the bench, in search of something or someone. then, he perked up at the sight of another player. he glanced back at y/n, and pointed at the boy.
“stiles,” danny mouthed.
y/n stood up, and followed danny’s line of sight. sure enough, stiles was standing in front of the bench, a few people down from danny. he was talking quickly, throwing his hands about like a madman. she recognized scott sitting to the left of him, half-listening to his friend. then, scott seemed to feel her gaze on the two of them. he grabbed at stiles arms, telling him something. stiles quickly looked towards danny, who glanced back at y/n.
stiles followed danny’s turn of head, and met her eyes. her hand, still raised from saying hello to danny, waved towards stiles. he blushed, a deep red color, and smiled this dopey, puppy dog grin. he moved about himself, unsure of what to do. somehow, he stepped on his helmet, and fell to the ground.
scott looked back at y/n, squeezed his eyes shut in utter disappointment at his friend, and hung his head low. he leaned down, grabbed stiles by the collar, and landed the boy back on his feet. y/n met danny’s eyes, pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t burst out giggling. danny covered his mouth, and his shoulders shook with laughter.
stiles quickly sat himself down, avoiding y/n’s gaze. he was embarrassed, and sure she was making a cringed face at him. but, he didn’t know that she was grinning as she sat. her eyes were glinting.
the game started shortly after, and it ended almost as quickly as it had begun. it was close, and the wolves almost lost. but, luckily, the boys managed to even out the score, and dug the other team a shallow grave.
y/n found herself cheering for her school’s team throughout the game. she quickly learned stiles number, and watched him, along with danny, dart around the field. he was pretty good, though he was tiny. he was taller than average, and that gave him some advantage against other players. plus, being skinny made him fast. he had made a few scores, and y/n whooped and hollered in response.
meanwhile, stiles found himself looking towards her seat throughout the game. she had a really infectious smile, and, damn, she was loud. at times, he could hear her voice over everybody else.
after the game, the crowd dispersed, and the team lingered on the field to not only hear coaches closing speech, but to celebrate with friends and family members. y/n, jack, leo, and megan climbed down the bleachers and crowded towards danny. his family hadn’t made it that evening.
y/n found herself nervous to formally meet stiles. she had replied to his text message earlier, informing him of danny’s idea for them to meet. she didn’t address the half of his message that was weird and kind of cryptic. she didn’t really want to think of that big ick.
anyways, seeing him in real life, in his cute little lacrosse uniform, polished his reputation up just a bit. danny was right, it didn’t really matter what his personality was like if they were just gonna fuck. but, y/n still wanted him to be a decent person. they’d have to hang out just a little bit. and she’d rather not have to sit through his apparent need to rant frequently if those rambles were about stupid, gross things.
danny saw his friends and his face lit up. he jogged the small distance to y/n, who pumped her fists in the air with excitement. danny embraced her tightly, lifting her off her feet.
“good job, dan!” she cheered in his ear, squeezing him around his shoulders. up in the air, y/n spotted stiles a little ways behind them. he was chatting with scott, an older woman, and the sheriff. he caught her gaze and stumbled over his words. he raised his hand in a short wave. y/n simply smiled in response before squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her chin into danny’s neck. he set her back on her feet. then, he celebrated with their other friends, too.
megan and leo left right after greeting danny because she had to work in the morning. but, jack hung around with them. he and y/n didn’t speak much. they just hung out with the same group of people. and, hanging out usually just meant getting high in danny’s basement or going on group dates to the movies.
“dude, that was a sick game!”
y/n tried to pretend like she knew what jack and danny were talking about, or that she was even remotely interested in the topic of conversation. she tried to strain her gaze over danny’s shoulder without seeming obvious. stiles was cute. like, super cute.
the conversation continued for a few seconds before someone interrupted it.
scott wrapped his arm around danny’s shoulder, squeezing the older boy into his side. scott was weirdly strong. then, stiles appeared at danny’s other shoulder. his cheeks were flush red, from both the game, and the pretty girl standing in front of him, who he was supposed to have sex with. he tried to seem nonchalant, cool. but he was sweating, from both of the same causes, again. y/n tried not to act like it was affecting her, the way his brown hair swooped down over his forehead due to the sweat. she tried to, also, not stare at his puffy lips as he spoke, swollen from chewing on them during the game. he was incredibly passionate about everything. especially teasing danny.
“aye, danny boy, good job out there tonight!” stiles ruffled danny’s hair.
the older boy knocked stiles’ shoulder with his own. “watch it, stilinksi.”
y/n, a pretty confident, witty person, interjected the conversation, “since when is it danny boy? i thought it was gay danny?”
stiles, who had been trying to play it cool, sucked both of his lips between his teeth. “oh, that’s funny, actually- you know, i- that’s crazy-“ his voice cracked. he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
y/n giggled, “i’m kidding. gay danny is hilarious.”
danny grinned between his two friends. “i think it’s rather hilarious, too.” he moved out from beneath stiles and scott’s arms. “don’t you, stiles? hey, let me know if you’re dtf?”
danny stood beside y/n, who hit him with her hand. scott, who was a little out of the loop, dropped his jaw. “oh, stiles,” he groaned, head falling back, “dude, please do not tell me you said that!”
he looked towards his best friend, who placed his hand on his hip, and glared at the turf. “you know…words are-“
“dude!” scott shoved stiles shoulders. “you’re a fucking idiot!”
stiles faltered on his feet, using his lacrosse stick to balance himself. “okay, i don’t want to hear it from you! please tell me the last charming thing you said to a girl?!”
y/n intruded again, “how about, hello, how are you? nice to meet you, my name is stiles?”
stiles finally met y/n’s eyes. she looked anticipatory, brows raised slightly, teeth over her bottom lip. he licked his own, dry lips, falling over his words. this never really happened. he always had something to say. and now, he was speechless.
their gaze didn’t falter for a few moments, as y/n waited for the boy to say something. he didnt, so she stuck out her hand, “hello, how are you? my names y/n, nice to meet you!”
stiles stared at her hand, her pretty hand, just hanging there in the space between them. scott hit him over the back of the head with his lacrosse stick. stiles tripped over his feet. he balanced himself out and finally shook her hand.
“nice to meet you,” he nodded. “i’m stiles.”
“is that short for anything?” y/n asked, stepping closer. danny and scott busied themselves to the side with jack, trying to give the two potential lovebirds a moment alone.
stiles moved a little closer, too, until there was only a foot or two between them. y/n was really good at maintaining eye contact, but that made stiles nervous. he glanced around her face, trying not to stare at her lips, or her nose, or her rounded cheeks.
“it’s short for Mieczyslaw,” stiles scratched the back of his head, embarrassed by his weird name.
“oh, no way! that’s my grandpas name!” y/n replied.
stiles perked up, “really? that’s- that’s cool.”
“it’s actually david,” y/n widened her eyes amusedly, “i thought it would be funny to say it was Mieczyslaw. but i don’t know how that’s funny. it’s just david. his names david.”
she laughed nervously. her gaze faltered from stiles. the corner of his lips quirked up. that was his kind of humor. he chuckled, somewhat dryly due to his nerves, and said, “it is funny. i liked it. it’s funny.”
“usually when someone has to say something’s funny, it’s not,” y/n crinkled her nose. her hands were crossed in front of her, fingers slick with nervous sweat. he was making her so nervous and shy. unusual.
stiles shrugged off the fact she had stated, “i don’t think so. i think it’s still funny.”
they shared a longer gaze, words absent from both of their minds. stiles rubbed his lips together and waited for his brain to formulate some kind of sentence. y/n smiled, slowly, okay with the silence.
“hey, guys,” danny intruded their moment, “we’re gonna go get changed, then head to my house, yeah? scott’s gonna invite allison. maybe lydia, but i doubt she’ll come.”
stiles and y/n looked to danny, sweet little smiles swallowing expressions. danny couldn’t help but grin. this had to be one of his best ideas, ever.
“okay, sounds good,” y/n nodded. she looked back to stiles, awaiting his answer.
he followed her lead, “yeah, yeah, awesome. we’ll meet you there?”
“well,” danny shook his head slightly, “i was gonna drive scott. and, then, jack, you know, plus if allison comes…my cars kinda full.”
“wha- scot-“ stiles looked towards his best friend, betrayed by scott’s willingness to ride with someone else. then, he met scott’s eyes, and understood the matchmaking game that was being played.
y/n glanced at stiles, who was nodding nervously. “yeah, okay. do you- would you wanna ride with me, y/n?”
“yeah,” she smiled, “i’ll ride with you.“
y/n, jack, and allison hung out outside the boys’ locker room while they showered and changed. y/n texted her mom to let her know she’d be getting home late. then, she shut her phone off and shoved it in her jeans pocket. allison met her eyes from the bench across the hallway.
“i feel like we’ve never hung out,” y/n smiled.
allison shrugged with a shy grin, “i don’t really hang out with many people. my family’s…weird.”
“it’s okay, mine, too,” y/n giggled. “we can trauma dump later, yeah?”
allison nodded, “i’d love that.”
“so, are you and scott together?” y/n wriggled her brows suggestively.
allison blushed, pulling her gaze to her hands in her lap. she fidgeted with her fingers. “uh, no, not anymore. we- uh, just, it’s complicated.”
“ah, i see,” y/n narrowed her eyes playfully.
allison looked back up to the girl and furrowed her brows, “what about you? i thought you were seeing sam? sam collins? i saw you guys together over the summer.”
y/n shifted in her seat, her throat tightening at the thought of sam collins. “yeah, we- were? i guess. i don’t know, it was a whole situation. i’ll tell you all about later when we do that trauma dumping.”
allison offered a supportive smile, “sounds like a deal.”
scott, stiles, and danny piled out of the locker room doors, backpacks and lacrosse bags slung over their shoulders. they barely made it through the frame.
danny rounded up his carload, quickly leaving y/n and stiles in the dust so they were forced to be alone. he had texted her before showering, ensuring she felt safe and comfortable with the idea they had entrapped her and stiles in. in response, she had said, “he’s CUTE!”
y/n stood from the bench, sighing slightly. “looks like we’re stuck together.”
stiles, who had gotten a pep talk from scott, was a little calmer. he waved his arm out in front of himself, “ah, can’t be the worst thing. lead the way.”
y/n grinned up at him. standing this close to him, in this small space, she noticed two things. one- he smelled really fucking good. and, two, he was so fucking tall.
y/n walked out in front of him. she crossed her arms in front of herself again, a nervous habit. once they walked out of the school, their steps fell into rhythm beside each other. stiles wanted to make conversation, and y/n did, too. but the anticipation, the hesitance, the nerves. it all took up too much space.
once they reached stiles’ blue jeep, he opened the door for her, which was slightly shocking. he tossed his bag in the back before joining her in the front. y/n found words as the car started and music playing, a little louder than normal, from the speakers. stiles turned it down, cursing and apologizing.
“what kind of music do you listen to?” y/n turned in her seat, so her knees were facing him. she placed her elbow on the arm rest, chin balanced atop her fist. stiles glanced at her, and his words stumbled.
she was pretty.
“oh, you know. your basic stuff. the 1975. backseat lovers. noah kahan. wallows,” stiles listed off a few.
“hm,” y/n replied. “alright, i can get behind that.”
stiles chuckled, “oh, yeah? what about you? you seem like a music snob.”
y/n scoffed, “absolutely not. i listen to everything and anything. even country. love taylor swift, phoebe bridgers, one direction, chappell roan.”
“i have heard of two of those artists,” stiles furrowed his brows. “literally who is chapel ro-han ?”
y/n rolled her eyes, “roan! here, give me your phone. i’ll play something by her.”
“no, wait, play some taylor,” stiles dug his phone out and handed it to y/n. “i respect swifties.”
“i feel like you’d be a swiftie,” y/n murmured as she scrolled through spotify. green flag, even though the 1975 was a blaring red one.
y/n, feeling slightly risky, played one of taylor’s more promiscuous songs- dress.
“i would be a swiftie, but i think my masculinity gets in the way,” stiles shrugged. he turned up the music a little bit. “i’ve never heard this one.”
“probably,” y/n giggled at his comment. “this is dress. it’s off the reputation album.”
“what’s your favorite album of hers?”
conversation came so naturally. y/n felt comfortable.
“oh, god, don’t ask me that,” y/n groaned. she rested stiles’ phone on her knee. “probably…reputation, to be honest. it’s some of her best work. but, lover is definitely second.”
“is that one a bunch of love songs, i take it?” stiles was really good at asking questions.
y/n shook her head, “it’s actually a bunch of heartbreak songs. people get confused because of the title. reputation has more love songs.”
“like this one?” stiles seemed to notice some of the lyrics.
y/n pursed her lips, “maybe. this one’s more of a fuck song than a love song.”
“ah, yes, there is a distinct difference.”
“oh, for sure.”
they shared a hearty laugh. stiles continued to ask questions, seemingly very interested in not only taylor swift, but y/n herself. she enjoyed his willingness to make conversation.
they made it to danny’s after two more songs. they pulled in right behind danny’s car, and watched the group pile out of his car. as stiles shut off the jeep, y/n reached for her door handle.
“wait-“ stiles jumped out of the car, and quickly rounded to her side. he opened the door, and offered her his hand.
y/n furrowed her brows. she’d seen a lot of boys do a lot to get laid. but, stiles was taking it to the extreme. stiles noticed her faltered look and motioned her with his outstretched hand.
“if we’re gonna fuck, i’m not gonna act like a dick. you deserve some basic human decency.”
literally bare fucking minimum- don’t worry, ladies, y/n is aware. but, god that melted her heart. his sweet brown eyes offered up the nicest smile.
she placed her hand in his and carefully stepped out of the jeep. it was a little higher off the ground than she was used to.
stiles shut the door behind her. he fell into step beside y/n as they walked into danny’s house. danny led the group to his basement, which was also his room. shockingly, it smelled a little bit like weed, and was dimly lit by led lights and lamps scattered across the room. his bed was against the farthest wall, and he had a common area surrounding a television right off the landing.
y/n plopped onto the first couch, and she patted the spot beside her for stiles. he followed suit, and yelped as he noticed how broken in the piece of furniture was. his shoulder squished into y/n’s, along with his hip, as he was tilted by the couch. she giggled at his clumsiness, steadying him with a hand on his knee.
stiles went red hot under her touch. it was warm, through the thin material of his sweatpants. and she didn’t take it away. no, y/n, confident in her advances, left her hand on his knee. stiles took that in stride, and swung his arm around the back of the couch, fingers inches away from her shoulders. she smelled sweet, like some fruity, beachy perfume.
scott and allison sat on the couch to their left, and jack found his usual spot on the oversized chair. danny was busying himself at the television console, flicking on netflix. he put on some random movie for background noise, and then proceeded to pass around his dab pen. jack took a couple hits, surprisingly, allison did as well. scott was shocked by the latter fact, and even more surprised when she told him she took edibles sometimes for her nerves.
stiles politely refused the weed, but y/n gratefully took a few hits. it loosened her shoulders almost immediately and made her flirtations a million times more present.
she curled her legs up beneath her on the couch, her knees landing in stiles lap. he shifted his legs beneath her, clearing his throat nervously. if someone had told him, this morning, that he’d be losing his virginity so soon- oh, god.
y/n started up a conversation that was separate from the groups. they started up a game of mario kart, while y/n was asking stiles about his favorite movies. it was hard to think with her warm breath fanning across his cheek, down his neck. and, then, she was toying with the string on his hoodie, staring up at him through her pretty lashes. her pupils were dilated from being high, and she was giggly.
stiles was beyond happy.
especially when she demanded she show him something in the other room.
“you said you like tabletop games, right? danny’s brother runs tournaments with his friends. cmon, i’ll show you!” y/n stood up, offering stiles her hand.
he didn’t hesitant to lace his fingers with hers. she drug him along behind her, quickly bee-lining for the other room in the basement. y/n flicked on a light switch, but all it really did was turn on more lamps and the string of leds across the ceiling. yes, stiles was incredibly interested by the shelves of books, knick-knacks, and the large gaming table in the center of the room.
but he didn’t really care about any of that.
because she was holding his hand, rambling about danny’s younger brother, and holding his hand. stiles just listened to her describe luke, how he was like a younger brother.
then, she noticed stiles was just staring at her. her words faltered and she trailed off. “what? am i boring you?”
“no, no, never,” stiles stepped closer, and squeezed her hand to encourage her. “i’m just…you’re really pretty. and you’re holding my hand. and i’m thinking about fucking stupid my text was, from earlier? i’m a dumb ass.”
“stiles,” y/n rolled her eyes, “you’re a really cute dumb ass. don’t worry about the text. to answer your question, though, yes.”
“yes, what?” stiles thought he knew what she meant, but he was unsure. he wanted to hear her say it.
“yes, i’m down to fuck you.”
oh, god. his knees went weak.
y/n grabbed his other hand, tugging him towards her slightly. something in her demeanor, her expression, changed. her look was darker, pointed, intentional. stiles found some courage and slid his hand up her wrist, up her forearm, over her bicep, and around the back of her neck. he brushed her hair away. as they moved closer, she leaned her head back to meet his eyes, and her head fell into his hand.
she grinned up at him, and the look made him chuckle dryly. “what?” she asked, insecurities drawing out despite her pointed confidence.
“just…so pretty,” stiles replied. using his other hand, stiles brushed the hair from her cheek, and cupped his palm around the curve of her face.
slowly, but surely, they kissed.
1K notes · View notes
loving-barnes · 10 months ago
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR
A/N: It took me some time, but here we go again. Chapter Seven, my friends. Just something stupid, fun.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: none
Summary: It's a fun night out at a bar.
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.
Words: 3300+
Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.
A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Six
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LOGAN HOWLETT - BAR
Y/N stood in front of the mirror, looking at her reflection. When was the last time she dressed up and put on make-up? She couldn’t recognise herself in the mirror. Since she came to the school, she would wear simple outfits and almost any make-up. Tonight, she wanted to look nice and make an impression on the people. Hell, she desired to catch Logan’s eyes. Honestly, she would catch his eyes even without all those things.
White blouse, dark blue jeans, black combat boots and a black leather jacket - this was her style. She put her hair into a high ponytail. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at herself in the mirror. It felt like lifetimes since she felt this confident and sexy. Damn, even the drawn cat-eye looked good. 
She winked at herself in the mirror and then glanced at her phone. Yes, they’d given her a phone. It was time to head out. She put it into the back pocket of her jeans. Before leaving, she had to check herself one more time just to be sure everything was perfect. 
To her surprise, she didn’t see any familiar faces. Usually, the students would walk around the school at this hour and hang out. Some noises came from the kitchen or the TV room. She didn’t recognise JJ’s voice. Maybe he was in his room.
Y/N made a mental note to spend more time with the boy. She didn’t keep her promise when she told him she’d come to him before the accident happened. 
“Well, look at you,” said a voice beside her. 
Y/N jumped, gasping. She was ready to hit the man in his face. “Jesus, Peter,” she glared at him. “You scared me, you ass,” she punched him in the shoulder. He could have easily dodged it, but he decided to not use his ability and laughed it off. 
“You get scared easily, Y/N. You should work on that,” he winked at her. “Can I walk with you?” he raised a brow. 
“You already are, so why ask?” she grinned at him. 
They walked out of the school and headed to the main entrance gate. Peter kept his hands behind his back. He had silver aviator goggles on top of his head that matched his silver jacket. “So, Y/N, what is your weirdness? You know about mine. I want to know about yours.” 
That made her laugh. “Nice way of saying it. I have, uh, protective abilities?” 
“You ask, or you know?” 
She glared at him playfully. “I know. I wasn’t sure if that description was correct. Let me put it this way - I can create and manipulate forcefields.” 
“Nice.” That was his only comment. “So, you have a codename?” 
“What?” she raised a brow. 
“You know, like Scott is Cyclops. Logan is Wolverine. I am Quicksilver,” he explained. “Do you have any name you go by?” 
Wheels were turning inside her head. “No,” she said. “I never thought about it, actually. Do I need one?” Was it necessary to have a codename? Holy shit, Logan was called the Wolverine? She could see why. It suited him well. 
“That’s up to you, I guess.  Okay, changing the topic - how long have you been here?” 
“Over a month,” she replied. “It’s been a hell of a ride. What about you?” 
He thought about it. “It’s been over a decade. I love this place, to be honest.” 
They slowly approached the main gate. They could see some people standing there, talking. Y/N was sure Logan was not there. “You took a break or something?” 
Peter nodded. “I needed some time off. It was all overwhelming. Charles granted me a lengthy vacation. I took a break, travelled the States, and here I am, ready to work again.”
Storm, Kitty and Kurt were the first three there, chatting. Y/N felt some excitement building inside of her. It was nice being a part of something bigger and better. Both Storm and Kitty were great women and friends. Were they friends? God, she hoped so. The last three to arrive were Bobby, Logan and Rogue. Rogue and Logan were squabbling. She couldn’t hear what it was about until she heard: “Let it fucking go, Rogue.” 
She had to chuckle. What got Logan so worked up? 
“Let’s fucking go, people,” Peter called them.
Thus, a thirty-minute walk to the bar started. Rogue linked arms with Y/N, and they walked ahead of everyone. Her arms were covered with gloves that hid under the denim jacket. That way, she could touch the other woman without fear of hurting her.
“Isn’t it annoying?” Y/N asked her. 
“The gloves? Yes, a little bit. Luckily, I can touch Remy without them,” she said with a smile. “He’s the only person that I won’t hurt. I don’t know how it is possible, but I don’t care. What matters is that I can touch the person I love.” 
“What if you subconsciously learnt to not hurt him?” Y/N thought out loud. “I can shut my brain from the Professor. I don’t know how, but I do it. Well, I might have already figured it out.”
They talked together the entire way to the bar. Rogue wouldn’t let anyone speak to Y/N. She wanted to have her for herself and get to know the woman better. 
Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her back the whole time. She suppressed the urge to turn around and look at Logan. She was more than sure it was him staring at her. It kept happening until they arrived at the empty bar. 
It looked like an old dive bar. Country music was playing in the background. An older-looking man was standing behind the bar, cleaning glasses. He had short white hair and glasses on his nose. When his grey eyes found a group of mutants at the door, he smiled. 
“Welcome, friends,” he greeted them with a raspy voice. “I was wondering when I will see you again. Come, sit. Ah, I see a new face here,” his lips crooked into a smile. 
Rogue grabbed Y/N by the shoulder and brought her closer to the man. “This is Y/N,” she said happily. “She’s been with us for some time now.” 
“Nice to meet you,” said Y/N, shaking hands with the man. 
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he asked. 
“A beer would be nice, thank you,” she replied with a smile. They told her the owner was a mutant. What was his mutation? 
Rogue took her to the table where the rest of the people were seated. Y/N sat next to Storm, right opposite Logan. Rogue sat by the man’s side. 
It felt like a friendly gathering. The atmosphere was inviting. It’s been years since Y/N felt safe in a group. They were all like her, unique and not criminals. When Y/N’s eyes travelled around the table, her soul got warmer and relaxed. A gentle smile appeared on her face. She listened to Bobby talk about his day. The teens got on his nerves today. 
“In case you haven’t heard,” Storm interrupted him. “Y/N will become the newest English and Literature teacher.” 
“No kidding!” Rogue shouted excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
All eyes were on her now. “I asked the Professor today,” she explained. “I don’t know. I simply didn’t. I kind of forgot, I guess.” 
“Another smartass,” Logan commented. 
“Aren’t you one, too?” Y/N glared at him, her lips turning into a grin. “Listen, I asked if he’d need an English teacher, and Charles said yes. I’m glad that I would be able to repay him at least a little.” 
The bartender brought them a tray of beers. They all grabbed one. Y/N put the drink to her lips and took a sip. Then another one. Before she knew it, she drank the whole glass in one go. She burped a little and smiled. “Damn, that was a good beer.” When her eyes lifted from the empty glass, everyone stared at her. Some had their mouths open, and others were impressed. “What? It’s been years.” 
“You’ll be out before you know it,” Bobby warned her. “Be careful.” 
“So,” Rogue clapped her hands. It got everyone’s attention. “Since we are all here, let’s get more information about Y/N.” 
“Oh, no,” Y/N hid her face in her hands.
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Storm nudged her shoulder. “We want to know everything about you. Let’s start with the basics. Tell us something interesting about yourself. For example, I like gardening.” 
Y/N peeked at Storm, raising a brow. “That’s quite shocking. I could never picture you in a garden, on your knees and covered in dirt.” 
“The more you know. Now, it’s your turn.” 
“Ah,” Y/N sighed and thought about her life. “I used to attend guitar lessons,” she said after a while. “My parents made me take guitar lessons. That was years ago. I don’t think I remember anything.” 
“At least someone who’s not tone-deaf,” Peter commented. “I can’t listen to some of you singing off-key.” 
“I’m saying I played the guitar, not that I can sing,” Y/N corrected him. 
“It’s still the same,” Peter shrugged. 
“Anything else?” Storm asked. 
Y/N’s eyes moved around the place. She found darts and a pool table farther away. “Nothing is interesting about me,” she said. “I’m going to get another beer. Anyone want anything else?” she asked them. 
Y/N’s eyes fell on Logan’s empty glass, and she raised a brow. Their eyes locked. It was a silent plea to save her from the interrogation. “I’ll go with you,” he said. 
They walked from the table and straight to the bar. Logan ordered them more beer. He leaned against the wooden counter, elbows resting on it. “Everyone is curious about you,” he commented. 
“I hate that,” she sighed. “It’s like going to a confession. They all get information, and I get nothing out of it. It makes me nervous. I feel like the least interesting person here.” She turned her body to him. “Back in the day, when I started high school, this was a nightmare. People wanted to know everything to convince themselves that their lives were more interesting than others.” 
Logan’s eyes travelled around her body until they landed back on her face. “True,” he shrugged. “But here, people are genuinely curious and want to know you. You are part of the team, you know?” 
“It feels forced,” said Y/N. 
The bartender handed them beers, and he winked at Y/N. She chuckled at that. He wasn’t too discreet about the flirting. Then again, she didn’t mind. 
Her eyes landed on the pool table again. “Listen. Do you want to play?” she pointed with her head. 
Logan turned to look at it and then back at her, smirking. “Not only do you want me to kick your ass during training. You also want to lose playing pool?” 
“Is that a threat I hear in your voice? I will beat you,” she threatened with a finger.
“Only one way to find out, princess,” he grabbed his beer. “We’ll have a game, Stan,” Logan said to the bartender. 
Storm and Kitty watched them walk around the pool table and play. They both had grins on their faces, squabbling here and there. “They are so blind,” Kitty whispered to Storm.
“Let them have this dance,” Storm whispered back. “Five bucks, they’ll end up together by the end of the month.” 
“I’m giving them a week,” Bobby joined on the bet. 
Y/N held the billiard cue tightly in her hand. Logan was the one who started the game. They flipped a coin, and he won. Logan got himself solids while Y/N remained with the stripes. When he screwed up his move, it was time for her to play. The last time she played pool was years ago. It was a game she wasn’t able to master. All she could do was to try and have a good time. 
She sank one of her balls and moved to another one. She leaned over the table, placed the cue on the table and focused. There weren’t any good shots for her. Therefore, she had to play something and try. 
Logan stood next to her and laughed. “Your stance is wrong,” he said. He reached for her hand and brought it higher on the cue. 
His body was oh so close to her, and Y/N forgot how to breathe. She could smell the cigars, a heavy man’s cologne and something musky. When he pulled away, his hand brushed against her lower back. It made her hit a ball that sank one of his solid balls. “Shit,” she cursed. 
Logan’s howling laughter echoed around the bar. “You really want me to win, princess.” 
“You are distracting me,” she frowned at him when she straightened her stance. She reached for her beer and drank from it. 
Her eyes were stalking him, watching his every move. When did he light up a cigar? He held it between his lips while he played his turn. Y/N huffed. She took off her leather jacket and threw it on the nearest chair. Then, she fixed her blouse and popped open the highest button to show some cleavage. If he could distract, so could she. 
He sank two other balls when the third try was unsuccessful. “Fuck,” he growled. 
Y/N snickered. She walked to the table and scanned her stripes. This round sucked. There was nothing good to play. She sat at the edge and held the cue behind her back. 
“You won’t be able to make it,” Logan stared at the scene. “It’s a difficult move, kid.” 
Y/N exhaled and hit the red stripe ball perfectly. “Ha!” she shouted happily when the ball sank. “Did you see that?” 
Logan smiled at her and rolled his eyes. “Go on, it’s still your turn,” he goaded her. “Show me what else you can do.” He took a drag of the cigar.
Y/N felt confident. Even though she was three balls behind, she started to believe she could win. She gave him a smug face as she walked around the table, trying to find another good shot. It was all fun and games. When she brushed past him, Logan wanted to grab her by the neck and bring her lips to his. He only took a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. 
Y/N leaned over the table and hovered the cue on the table. There was one ball that had the potential of being taken down. She took a deep breath. Again, Y/N felt Logan’s eyes on her body. She started burning up. With this knowledge, she hit the white ball, and with some dumb luck, she managed to sink the black eight ball. 
“No!” she shouted, horrified. 
Logan’s roaring laughter brought everyone’s attention. “Holy shit,” he placed a hand on his belly. “You did not!”
Y/N leaned against a wall and hid her head in her arms. “What the fuck was that?!” she shouted, pissed. 
Laughter came from the table where the rest of the people sat. They saw what happened. “Oh, Y/N, no,” Kitty gasped, laughing. 
“I’m never playing this dumb game again,” Y/N made a dramatic announcement. “Oh my god,” she pushed from the wall and turned around. She noticed all eyes on her. “Listen,” she blushed. “I am talented. I am the best there is. I should stick to drinking,” she said ironically. 
“Hey, hey,” Logan walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “If you’d like, I can also kick your ass while playing darts,” he teased. 
She glared at him. “Very funny,” she shook off his hand and went to get her beer. “I will kick your ass when we have the next training session,” she threatened. Once she got to her beer, she went back to him. “I will find a way to burn all your clothes.”
Logan tilted his head and grinned. “If you want to see me without clothes, all you need to do is ask.” 
“Is that a challenge?” she looked into his eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. “Think twice, or you might regret it.” And then, she drank the rest of her second beer in one go. “Refill?” 
He snorted. “You’ll get drunk, princess.” 
“Well, you only live once, right?” she shrugged and walked to the bar to order another beer. 
The rest of the night went smoothly. Everyone talked and laughed. Y/N wasn’t interrogated as she was at the very beginning. Bobby told her about the students and what to expect from them. Kitty added some of her funniest memories and challenges as a teacher. Storm included what to do when the school is under attack.
“It happens,” she said. “Not often, but at least once a year.” 
Before they knew it, Y/N was on her fifth beer and feeling it. Her face was burning, the world spinning, and she could feel it in her veins. Her voice got louder, and words went flying out of her mouth.
“I love my life,” Y/N said out of nowhere. Some giggles spread around. “Everything’s good, you know? I have a place to sleep, food to eat, and amazing friends,” she said with a wide smile. “I fucking hope we are friends.”
“Of course we are,” Bobby nodded.
“No more beer for you, young lady,” said Peter. “By the way, how is it possible to get drunk from beer?” 
She took a big, dramatic breath. “Let me tell you a short story, my friend. When you are locked up for years, barely able to eat and an involuntary abstainer, you can get drunk easily.” 
More laughter followed. “Take it easy, girl,” Storm patted her shoulder. 
Y/N stood up from their table. “I’m going outside to take a breather and clear my head.” She tripped over her feet but managed to stand tall. “It’s the floors,” she blamed it. 
The midnight air was cold. Y/N walked outside without her leather jacket. She wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Getting drunk was not the plan. On the other hand, the beer tasted good. It eased her nerves. Walking around Logan got easier the more she drank. That fucker was such a tease. 
Y/N let her hair loose and put the elastic band between her fingers. She let her hair fall over her shoulders and face. 
How would his lips feel against mine? Where did that question come from? Her mind was racing miles. All she could see was Logan’s face and those lips she wanted to taste. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts. 
“You okay, kid?” 
She sighed. Of course, Logan would be the first one to check up on her. It was nice. But it brought back all those impure thoughts. 
“I’d like another beer,” she said to him. 
“Go get some. But I’m warning ya, I’m not the one carrying ya back to the school.” 
“I’m not asking you to,” Y/N winked at him. When she took a step, she almost tripped again. Sighing, she said, “Seriously, what is with the floor?” 
“Y/N, you are drunk,” said Logan. “The floor is fine. Also, you are outside, so there is ground under your feet. I think it’s time to go back to school.” 
“You are right,” she nodded and yawned. “I’m going to get my jacket. I’ll head back to school. You guys have fun.” Y/N wanted to walk inside to get her belongings. However, Logan stopped her. Y/N was about to protest, but she noticed he already had her jacket. “How did you get that? You are not the one who can run fast. That’s Peter.” 
Logan was a bit annoyed when she mentioned his name. He put the jacket around her shoulders. “Come on, princess. Let’s get ya home.” 
“You are coming with me?” she looked up at him, confused. “Why?”
“You think I’m letting you walk there alone in this state? Come on, Y/N, I’m not leaving you when you are drunk and barely able to walk on your own.” 
A bright smile appeared on her face. “Aw, you are my knight in shining armour,” she sang. 
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pasdasin · 4 months ago
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Wicked Game
wolverine x vampire!reader
an: can u guys tell im not working rn with the amount uploading! also currently working on ch 4! if you guys have any ideas feel free to send me stuff!! i <3 vampire!reader and wanna write more about her :3... also sorry if pacing is weird lol
ch 3
warnings: SMUT!!! fingering, erotic blood drinking, angst lol, prob like cussing lol, im sure there is more so just be warned in general, mdni lol
previous -- next
~~~~~
The proposition weighed heavily on your mind. A chance to return where it all started? You couldn’t stomach the thought. You’d have to ask Logan what he thought. He always knew what to say. You couldn’t dwell on it now, another task was at hand. You smoothed out your denim skirt for the millionth time and stared at your reflection. Nothing seemed appropriate enough. Nothing seemed right when it came to talking about your past. Two hundred and seventy-five years old and this was most nerve racking thing you’ve ever done.
talk in front of teenagers. 
Sighing you turned back to your closest when the door of your room slowly opened.
“y/n? Are you ready yet? My class is waiting” Storm entered your room. “Damn you look good! Honestly expected a full Bela Lugosi get up.”
“Very funny, but I am not a vampire.” You said, turning to her. 
“Okay yeah, and I don’t control the weather.” She snickered at you. She held out her hand and you grabbed it tightly, allowing yourself to be pulled through the halls of the mansion as the two of you giggled and talked friday night plans. 
The two of you reached her classroom and it seemed fuller than normal. You glanced around the room and noticed Logan standing near one of the walls closer to where you’d be presenting. You shot him a smile smile and he nodded back at you, causing your heart to race. You approached the desk at the front of the room and took a deep breath in. You could not only hear your heart pumping, but also every single person in that room. 
Turning around you smiled at everyone and sat sheepishly on the desk. You felt Logan’s eyes on you as you listened to Storm start her lecture. You glanced towards him and watched as he sent you a silent message.
You’ll be okay bub. I’m right here.
You turned back to the class and scanned the crowd. It seemed as though every single person was there, even though it was physically impossible. Your eyes zeroed in on Scott and Alex. Alex. Your mind wandered back to what Charles asked of you the previous night.
“I know you don’t do missions since the incident, but you could really benefit Alex.”
“I dedicated my life to medicine, and helping others. I cannot just leave that.”
“Just think about it okay? Its London afterall. Don’t think I don’t know about what the two of you did there”
You quickly glanced away and turned your full attention back to Storm. She was just about finished with her recap of the lesson plan. Her eyes met yours and she winked down at you. 
“Now that we have finished Dracula, I thought as a treat instead of a movie, we could hear about the real events from the person who inspired the book herself. This is y/n, your school nurse.” A small round of applause broke out as you stood up from the desk.
“Hi everyone! So yes I inspired Dracula, so please ask me any questions.” Immediately questions rang out towards you. Are you a vampire? How come you don’t sparkle? I thought vampires drink blood!
Typical questions that you usually got from new students that visited your office. You quickly answered them without even thinking about it. Alex raised his hand jokingly before asking you the question you dreaded the most.
“How exactly did you inspire the book?” You paused, silently remembering the events of the night. You felt a knot in your throat before you began.
“In 1895, I met Bram Stoker in a pub. He was strange but endearing. A flirt really, and I knew I was done for. In 1896 I confessed to him my mutation and how at that point I was twenty-five for fifty years at that point. He didn’t believe me of course and when I showed him my true nature, the book was born.” You paused, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “The dedication was for me, and one of the brides had my name at the time and my description. I left Ireland and headed for London after the town found out about it. That’s actually where I met Logan.” 
The rest of the class period was full of laughter and more questions about your life in general, but you easily avoided those. As your presentation ended, you thanked Storm for the chance she gave you and promised to get drinks in the future. She walked away from you as Logan approached, wrapping his arm around your waist. 
“Good job bub. I knew you could do it.” You pushed his arm jokingly as the two of you started to walk out of the room, as Alex walked up to the two of you. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened.
“To my ever lasting beauty, an ageless angel, my queen of the dark. A book for your life. Wow you really made an impression on this dude. I didn’t realize you only dated what? Tall, dark and handsome. I’ll dye my hair ya know”
“Watch it Alex” Logan muttered, his claws starting to breach his knuckles.
“Woah big guy, I am just teasin. Anyways, y/n I heard the professor talked to you about Europe. What did ya think?” You made a face as you heard Logan’s blood race faster.
“I’m not too sure yet. I am still thinking about everything.” He nodded at your words before wishing you well and ignoring Logan. The two of you watched him walk away. 
“What the hell is he talking about?” Logan looked down at you, his face mixing into anger and confusion. 
“Lets go to my room okay?”
___
“What the hell do you mean a mission to London? And with him!” Logan snarled at you. You stared him down, not afraid of what he would do to you. 
“Calm down Logan! Its not a big deal I haven’t even decided yet!”
“Yeah I’m deciding for you. NO” He paced the left side of the bed as he muttered to himself.
“You don’t control me! I am my own person and I can’t die! Why don’t you trust me?” You felt your fangs push downwards in anger. If you weren’t careful you weren’t sure what would happen. 
“I don’t trust him. You won’t go and thats final.” His claws started to extend as he turned towards you. Fuck it.
The two of you lunged at each other and embraced as a tangle of limbs. Your lips crashed onto every piece of skin it met before you finally met his lips. He held you close to his chest and he messily made out with you, somehow managing to rip off your shirt, leaving in just the skirt and bra. His breath reeked of alcohol and his cologne filled your nose. The tobacco residue from an earlier cigar danced on his tongue as you deepened the kiss. You turned to straddle his lap, you pushed him down on the bed and, without thinking, you leaned down and sunk your fangs into his neck.
The warmth of his blood entered your mouth and the taste was euphoric. You continued your frenzy as you started to grind down on his growing erection. He groaned and panted as you nuzzled deeper into his vein. Your hot breath created a layer of pleasure to the holes in his neck and you pushed down harder on his clothed cock. 
“Please, fuck, don’t stop.” He choked out, moaning the last word. You didn’t think you could if you even wanted too. The taste of his blood made you whine in his ears as you picked up the pace of your hips, desperate for friction. His hand snaked down to your pussy, fingers slipping into your underwear and onto your clit. Your fangs sunk in deeper as he rubbed circles. “You’re so fucking wet for me.” He picked up the pace making you squeal from pleasure.
“Pl-ee-se-” You couldn’t think. The friction, his fingers, his blood. Without warning, you came hard on his fingers, allowing yourself to get lost in the heat of the moment.
Eyes half lidded you removed your fang from his neck and you looked down at the mess created. Blood stained the sheets, pillows, his shirt, and most likely everything else on the bed. Your mouth and neck was covered in a sheer layer of his blood. 
You snapped back to reality and realized what you had done. 
“Logan I’m- I can’t. I have to go.” Quickly you threw on a random shirt and left as quickly as you came, leaving Logan in the mess.
His neck already healing, his lifted his pants to stare at the mess left. Cuming in his pants was so middle school, but it wouldn’t be the first time this happened. Before being forced into the weapon x program, you fed on him regularly. Back then, your insatiable bloodlust wasn’t controlled, and he loved it. 
Trapped in the trance of euphoria, he didn’t realize you had gone. Slowly succumbing to sleep, Logan wouldn’t realize until the morning that you had gone. He ran through the mansion praying you’d still be in the confines of the walls. It was too late when he finally reached you. 
Watching as you left with Alex Summers to a mission to Europe. 
~~~~~
tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble
an: omg the drama!! also thank yall so much for ur support :3
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teencopandthesourwolf · 9 months ago
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"I'll text Stiles," Scott says, grabbing his backpack. "Then I'm gonna go see Allison.”
When Scott turns back around, Derek's lips are a thin line and they are the only part of him that moves when he asks, through his teeth, "Are you going to talk to her, too?”
Scott just squints. Because—huh? 
"Derek, what do you mean, am I going to talk to her, too?” He narrows his eyes even more, suspicious. “Why else would I be going to see Allison, if not to talk to her? I don't just, like, watch her from afar like some creeper, you know." 
Scott isn't about to admit that he has, embarrassingly, done just that on occasion. Alright, occasions, plural—but only once or twice! Five or six times, tops. And only ever when he thought Allison was, or could possibly be, in danger. It's not weird, though. It's not! It's noble, okay? It just sounds weird when you say it out loud. Even if he hasn't actually said it out loud. Well, at least not just now anyways; he's said it in front of the mirror a couple times and it turns out your reflection can be pretty hurtful and judgemental which, honestly, is a little upsetting.  
Just as Scott realises that Derek must know he just told a lie—half-lie!—the Alpha's face does a thing that Scott has never seen it do before. Ever. The dude looks almost… Human. 
And, what the hell? 
Derek clears his throat and shifts his weight from one foot to the other and worries at his bottom lip a bit and now Scott is feeling anxious because who is this guy? And what has he done with Derek ‘I Will Never Give A Single Thing Away About Myself Ever Other Than The Fact I Am Eternally Pissed’ Hale? (that's one of Stiles's). 
Just the possibility of Derek ‘Emotionally Open and Vulnerable’ Hale is, like—it's just way too much for Scott to handle on a Sunday morning when he's supposed to be at the veterinary surgery in less than fourteen minute's time and has to somehow manage fitting in seeing Allison on the way.
But it seems Scott is also too nosy to just move on from this and let sleeping dogs lie. And both of those things are really annoying because strange old phrases and being overly curious is usually a Stiles thing, not a Scott thing, so Scott really doesn't know what he's supposed to do! 
W.W.S.D. 
What Would Stiles Do?
"Um, Derek, have you been—"
"Firstly, McCall, following somebody around and watching them from a distance is not creepy if you think that they need to be tailed for their own safety, alright?" Derek starts and—well.
Exactly!
Scott actually genuinely likes Derek, for just a moment, because he knew he'd been right about that! He gives himself an internal high-five and an imaginary congratulatory pat on the back because being kind to yourself is never a bad option. Unfortunately, Scott now also has to admit to himself that it does, in fact, sound weird when you say it out loud. Or, well, think it out loud. Whatever, he knows what he means.
He realises that Derek is still speaking.
"...because Stiles is human and also the biggest danger-magnet in the pack, so it makes sense that one of us should be keeping tabs on him. Thirdly, I—“ 
“Someone, Derek!” Scott blurts, “I was going to ask if you've been creeping on someone!" he interrupts because—honestly, in the most way possible—what?! The hell?!
Scott is both stunned and annoyed at hearing that Derek has been following Stiles (hiding around dark corners and slinking about the place like a wolf ninja. Scott should know. Shut up.) 
Because Stiles! Is Scott's best friend! 
And, like, how long has he been doing this? And for what purpose, really? Because Derek's heart just skipped about twelve beats, never mind one, so reason number two was obviously at least a half-lie of his own. 
That's when Derek's mouth clacks audibly shut. 
Scott just stares. And he knows; there is more going on here than meets the eye.
Then it's obvious that Derek knows that Scott knows and then everybody is knowing and looking and looking and knowing and Scott just—he can't stand it, okay? He needs confirmation. He doesn't necessarily want it, but it's like his mom always says: Life's tough sometimes. 
Eventually, he manages to say, "Are you stalking Stiles, Derek?" and hopes to hell he's wrong because he now feels somewhere in between being affronted on his best friend's behalf, totally grossed-out because it's Derek, ugh, and maybe just a little bit amused. Or is it bemused? Possibly confused. Scott is definitely some of those words. 
And again, seriously, what the hell?  
Has Derek honestly been creeping on Stiles because he's concerned for Stiles's safety? And, if so, why? Like, does Derek even get concerned for humans? Or other wolves for that matter (apart from maybe his own betas which is probably only a biological thing anyway, Scott reckons). Does Derek care about anybody? At all? Dude doesn't even care about himself, Scott doesn't think.
Scott now tries his best to come up with another reason, any other possible reason, that someone might have to follow a person around, but he can't seem to land on—OH, GOD! DOES DEREK HAVE A CRUSH ON STILES? Oh, shit! Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He can't. But he—nope. No! Because what. The actual. Hell! He just—no. No, no, no. He can't! Can he? Oh, my God, what if he does?! And if it is true... ew! Derek Hale crushing is just gross! And on Stiles?! Just, no. But also, why? And also-also, how the hell did Scott not notice something sooner?! 
And another thing: Did Scott somehow wake up this morning having somehow travelled in his sleep to one of those Affirmative Universe places that Stiles is always banging on about?
Man, Scott has, like, so many questions. 
Derek still hasn't said anything and is just standing opposite Scott with his stupid arms folded across his stupid chest with his stupid beard in his stupid loft looking really, really stupidly sheepish, and Scott thinks, yep.
Affirmative Universe. 
He doesn't know what to do and Stiles isn't here to ask, so he waves a confused (and maybe amused and bemused) arm in the air and says, “Derek, what the hell is going on? Have we travelled to an Affirmative Universe or something, because—”  
“Don't you mean Alternative Universe?”  
“—you never just, I don't know, don't throw something offensive or at least defensive back at me when I'm talking to you about Stiles. Or, you know, anybody else. Or anything else, come to think of it!”   
Derek now looks, for real, actually scared.
And Scott? Well, Scott is now officially terrified.  
His phone starts ringing and, as it's already in his hand, he just answers it without looking, eyes still fixed on Derek The Imposter. 
“Yooooo, amigo, what's the plan?” 
It's Stiles. Of course it's Stiles. 
Stiles is on the phone and Derek Hale might-probably-definitely have a crush on him, and Scott may or may not be in an Affirmative Universe but can't know for sure and can no longer speak or think or breathe.
“Uh, Scottie? Scottland? Sir Scott-A-Lot? You there, ol’buddy, ol’pal?” 
Derek can obviously hear who is on the other end of the phone. He looks positively constipated, his brows knitting together even tighter than before, tighter than ever before, and his lethal jaw is ticking away like it's being controlled by the World Clock in Berlin that Scott learned about in middle school.
Scott sighs, heavy, like he's seventy years old instead of seventeen.
Derek is now giving his best version of Scott's own speciality Puppy Dog Eyes (something Stiles and Allison always accuse him of), with a definite flavour of please, don't tell…
And Scott wants to cry. Like a baby. Like, throw himself onto the floor and scream and shout and kick his feet in the air. 
Instead, he grits his teeth together like the mature person he is, feeling very firmly smooshed between a best friend-shaped rock and a werewolf-scented hard place. 
Ugh, his life is just so unfair!
He mouths YOU OWE ME to Derek, and Derek's whole body visibly sags with relief. 
Then he takes a deep breath and answers Stiles—who is now chanting ScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottieScottie down the phone—with, “Dude, shut up and listen, will you! I think we might have a very real problem with Affirmative Universes!”
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areyouwell · 3 months ago
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Autophobia
Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of being alone. Children or adults with this condition often suffer from severe panic attacks at the thought of being completely alone.
Ch.5.5
Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <--
Paring: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: Descriptions of a depressive spiral, atypical methods of self-harm, severe mental breakdown
Word Count: 6.8k
A/N: just a little follow-up chapter cuz if i put this all in one it would have been almost 20k words. let's not talk about how my mini-chapters are over 6k words i'm fluent in yappanese let me monologue
Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck
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The last twenty-four hours had been a complete blur. Numbly going through the motions of packing a rucksack, letting your body take you to where you needed to go whilst your mind was stuck in a loop. Eighty years. Eighty years. That’s how long you were kept from the world. That’s how long you’d been fed lies and bullshit. Eighty fucking years. And everything about your life, about who you are, what you’d been through, was in that venomous folder you couldn’t bring yourself to open. Nobody looked at you the same way. Ororo could barely stand to be in your presence, having to leave every time you entered the room. Charles kept looking at you with fucking sympathy and you wanted to knock his bald head clean off his shoulders. Scott kept apologising every time he passed you in the hallway, saying he didn’t know and would have done things differently if he had. Kurt and Hank barely knew what the fuck was going on and you hadn’t seen Jean since before the raid. 
And then there was Logan. Who kept almost tiptoeing around you, asking if you were alright every five fucking seconds, asking if you needed anything or if you wanted him to do something. Honestly, you wanted him to shut the fuck up. You wanted them all to shut the fuck up. You hadn’t processed anything. Hadn’t been allowed to process anything. After you woke up, you’d explained to those in the med-bay what Dr.Kremlin –or whatever his stupid fucking name was– had told you. Charles filled in the gaps, and you were given all of thirty seconds before you were taken upstairs to pack a bag and to meet Logan in the garage. You felt nothing as you swung your rucksack in the backseat of the beaten pickup truck, clambering into the passenger’s side and falling into dead silence. You didn’t even get to say goodbye. Not to Jubilee, not to little Artie. Not even to Kitty. 
At least your trip away made more sense now. Charles wanted you out of the mansion so he could monitor those neurotransmitters from the supposed environmental research facility without you catching wind of anything. Not that you’d know anyway, but maybe he thought it was safer if you didn’t know. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, right?
How ironic did that feel?
You’d been driving for around four hours in complete silence, your head resting against the slightly smudged window, eyes trained on the outside world as it blurred past, a kaleidoscope of greens, browns and greys. Feet perched on your seat, your arms tucked atop your knees as you subconsciously made yourself as small as possible. You didn’t know how long left you had of the drive, and honestly, you didn’t care. He could keep driving forever and it wouldn’t matter to you. 
“Y’alright?” Logan broke the long silence a little tentatively, his voice hushed as if not to disturb you. You found it vaguely amusing. He could shout at the top of his lungs and it wouldn’t disturb you. Not at the moment. You didn’t care. Didn’t even care to respond. It was a stupid fucking question anyway. You’d felt like this only once before. At least, only one time you could remember, if that was even real. And it was the days that followed after Jade’s death. A bus could have hit you and you wouldn’t have been able to find it in yourself to care. 
Logan sighed through his nose. Stealing a glance at your huddled form, staring unblinking out the window, he went to rest his hand on your shoulder but thought better of it as you tensed. Seeing you like this, so utterly devoid of emotion, was almost jarring. He was used to seeing your smile and hearing your laugh. Fuck, even when you lost control and tried to kill him was better than this. At least he could smell the fear on you. But he couldn’t smell anything right now. Just the oil of the engine and dust of the seats. You’d faded. Not just your personality or your mental state, but everything about you had faded. Suppressed. This was nothing like when you lost control. He had an idea of how to bring you back then. But this?
He was way out of his depth. 
“Talk to me,” he urged quietly, and he thought his pleas had fallen on deaf ears until you finally raised your head, turning to look at him blankly.
“About what?” Though your voice was completely flat, he was still glad to hear it. If he could get a response out of you, then perhaps he could bring you back after all. If he could just get you to talk to him…
“Anythin’. How you’re feelin’. What you’re thinkin’. We have a long ways to go yet.”
Your shrug wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. “So? You’ve never had a problem with silence before.” It was all he was going to get out of you before you returned to leaning against the window, your vacant eyes falling to watch the grey skies beyond. Suffocating quiet consumed the truck once again, only the hum of the wheels against the tarmac acted as a symphony for your thoughts. “Ya know what’s fucked?”
Logan almost jumped as you talked again, not expecting you to continue the conversation. Though he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad. “I don’t even know what’s real. If it was all a simulation… I don’t even know if this is real. If you’re real. Or just another sick twisted plot produced to make me believe I’m living a life that I’m not.” It was a thought that had plagued your mind since the raid. If everything in your past had been a lie, how did you know any of this wasn’t just more bullshit spun to widen the web?
Stretching out his hand, this time he didn’t hesitate to pry your own from your folded arms, clasping your knuckles in his palm. “‘M real, sweetheart. This is real. We’re real.” He held his breath, waiting for you to pull away from his touch, but you didn’t. Instead, you raised your head from the window again, offering him a small smile that didn’t even come close to reaching your eyes. He squeezed your hand and found a kernel of hope kindle in his heart as you weakly squeezed back. You’d be okay. He’d make certain of it. It didn’t matter how long it took, or what he’d have to do. He wouldn’t stop until you were okay. “Get some rest, we’ll be on the road for a while.” He pulled your hand up to his face, pressing a light kiss against the front of your wrist where the scars from your past fed into the present, before interlacing his fingers with yours. 
“Logan?” your voice was barely audible, timid in a way that had him fighting the urge to pull over, gather you in his arms and hold you until all of this blew over and you could be safe again.
“Mmm?” was all he could say instead, always ready to listen.
“You–” you paused, finding the words heavy in your throat and stuck on your tongue. You hated feeling like this. Feeling the need to be reassured. Hated coming across as insecure or needy, but just this once, you needed to know. “You’re not gonna leave, right?”
Wordlessly, Logan flattened your hand over the centre of his chest, and you felt his heartbeat beneath your fingers. “Not whilst this is still beating.” 
It was the first emotion you’d felt since waking up, and you couldn’t stop a silent tear slide down your cheek. His devotion to you incarnate, beating beneath your palm. You knew the weight of his words, and felt their meaning in your soul. He wasn’t going to leave you. Not now. Not ever. And it was one of your fears put to rest, knowing that he wasn’t one for lying. 
“Okay.” You responded quietly, your free arm shifting to hug your knees whilst he returned your other, not letting go of your hand. And you found you didn’t want him to. You were afraid earlier that any kind of touch would send you into a spiral, but now he held your hand in yours, you never wanted him to let go. 
“Sleep, firefly. I’ll wake you when we get there.” He hushed, and you nodded, curling up against the humming door, letting the soft vibrations of the truck lull you to sleep. 
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True to his word, a slight shake to your shoulder had you jolting awake, eyes flying open, heart racing as you tried your best to gauge your surroundings as quickly as you could. 
“‘S okay,” Logan soothed, and your breathing calmed slightly, whatever dreams had been haunting your unconscious mind faded into nothing with each swipe of his thumb against your shoulder. “We’re here.”
Your eyes scanned the woods beyond the windscreen as he opened his door, the hinges squeaking with age. It was dark out, meaning you’d been on the road for at least eight hours and four of those you’d been asleep for. There was the distinct smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the upholstery of the seats, and you looked down at the source, a burnt-out cigar lay discarded in the central unit, brown paper blackened at the roach. 
The door to your right opened and Logan offered you his hand. It wasn’t that you needed help, and you really fucking hoped he knew that, but you took it simply as an excuse to touch him as you stepped out of the truck, the smell of pine needles hitting you almost instantly as your feet touched soft earth. Wherever he’d taken you, this was certainly off-grid. It was so peaceful here. To the point where you’d surpassed tranquillity and landed right back into unease. It was too peaceful here. 
“Where are we?” You asked as Logan retrieved both rucksacks from the back seat, mindful not to slam the door shut before locking up the truck. Swinging both backs across each of his shoulders, he took your hand again, leading you around the hood of the truck and you finally saw your new halls of residence. 
A sizeable pinewood log cabin. Dark on the inside, but it looked homely enough. A small pair of antlers adorned the front door, piles of firewood stacked neatly beneath little shelters around to the left. You could imagine this as a forest getaway for some rich family who owned several yachts and a sports car. But when Logan produced a thick iron key from his pocket, you blinked. “Is this yours?” 
It was the most emotion he’d heard from you since he’d started driving eight hours ago, your words delicately laced with surprise. He smiled back over his shoulder. “Belonged to an old friend, left it to me when he passed.” He wasn’t ready to launch into that whole story, not yet. You had enough to deal with without him banging on about his own past. Sliding the key into the lock, he turned it anti-clockwise until the iron gave way, giving the door a gentle shove as it swung open. It definitely needed doing up, but he was happy to do that himself. “Home sweet home,” he murmured, vaguely hoping all the electrics still worked as he flicked the light switch.
The cabin was illuminated in a soft orange glow, the faux candles on the walls giving the same ambience as torch flame. The interior was cosier than you could possibly have imagined. A comfy-looking, though slightly faded brown sofa faced a broad hearth with yet another stack of kindling piled next to it, a red and green tartan print blanket draped over the back of the sofa. Logan shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on one of the multiple cast iron coat pegs lining the wall by the door, setting the rucksacks down next to the dark wood dining table. There were no arches or doorways that you could see, an open floor plan joining the small, rural kitchen area to the lounge.
A set of stairs led up to another floor behind the hearth, various antlers and horns of different woodland animals hung on almost every available wall, as well as a TV, which you weren’t expecting. Every cupboard looked identical, even the fridge, learning which one it was due to Logan immediately grabbing out two bottles of larger for you both. 
You smiled as you inhaled, and recognised the distinctive amalgamation of smells. It was him. Pure, unfiltered Logan. 
Crossing to one of the windows, you ran your fingers over the corrugated radiator, noticing the various blankets and pillows set up on the windowsill looking out into the dark green woodland beyond, brown woollen tassels hanging a little too close to the heater, to the point where you tucked them in. Staring out into the forest, you held your arm tightly until Logan’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, tucking you into his side and handing you the second bottle of golden liquid. 
“What’ya think?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and you moved your hand from your arm to hold his wrist against your shoulder. 
“It’s very you.” You offered as much mischief as you could muster, which wasn’t much considering your circumstances, and unfortunately resulted in a confused raise of his brow. 
“That’s a good thing, right?”
You huffed an exhausted chuckle, pressing your head into the space between his shoulder and chest. “Yeah. It’s a good thing.” You breathed, before raising the bottle to your lips and taking a long sip of the icy cold beverage. He held you in silence, offering to be whatever you needed him to be, and for right now, you just needed him close to you. You didn’t know what had happened in the past, and you didn’t know what was going to happen. You couldn’t hide forever, and there would come a day where you would have to face the contents of that folder. But it was enough for now just knowing you weren’t alone, and when that time came, you wouldn’t be alone. 
“There’s a bathroom down the hall or you can use the ensuite upstairs if you wanna freshen up. I can get started on makin’ dinner, should have some preservatives lyin’ around somewhere.” He looked towards the cupboards and you wished you had the energy or emotional bank to tease him properly about his cooking. But you didn’t need to, he looked back at your face of slight mock disbelief, a small, almost bashful smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’ve picked up a few things over the last couple months.” 
He didn’t resist as you weakly shoved at him, his smile widening as you showed small signs of your old self before your eyes took on that faraway look again and you retreated back into your protective shell. He knew it was a defence mechanism, he’d seen it in the kids now and then. When things got overwhelming or something went wrong, they’d shut themselves away behind emotional walls, appearing almost hollow before he’d sit them down and pry their emotions out one thread at a time. It nearly always resulted in them sobbing their eyes out, but it was a tried and true method.
One he was planning on using on you when he felt the time was right. You couldn’t shut yourself away forever. He wouldn’t let you, for one. There was no future where your past wins over and you remain this way. Even if it resulted in you drowning the cabin in shadow as you lost control, he didn’t care. In this state, any emotion is a good emotion. 
Setting down your bottle, you clung to his wrist for as long as you could before the increasing distance forced you to let go to retrieve your rucksack. You’d packed essentials, being under a strict time limit. A few spare pairs of clothes, toothbrush and toothpaste, cleanser, moisturiser, a Swiss army knife and as much underwear as you could stuff in the little space that remained at the top. You swing the bag over your shoulder, heading to the stairs before Logan caught your forearm.
“Shout if you need anything. I’ll be right here, ‘kay?” He looked so sincere, so serious it almost broke you. The first time he’d said those words to you, you’d laughed them off, teasing him for being overprotective. You couldn’t find the energy to do the same now, thinking back to how things had changed so much in the last day or so. Well, since you returned, really. You simply nodded in response, attempting to offer him a smile that could ease his worries but clearly failing miserably as his brows pinched in concern.
You had nothing left to give him, your emotional reservoir completely drained. So you simply turned away to head up the stairs, guilt gnawing at your chest. You didn’t want him to worry about you. Fuck, you hated it when he worried about you. Even about mundane things, you’d wave off his concerns. But you knew this was an issue that couldn’t be solved by telling him to ‘take his concerns elsewhere’ because where else would he go? You’d pried him away from his home, from his friends and teammates because he had some twisted obligation towards you. It was selfish of you to ask if he was going to leave. You’d all but trapped him into staying by asking that very question. He was too good of a man to say no, he was going to dump you off and dip. 
You hated it. Hated how much he was giving up for you. You didn’t deserve any of this, and he certainly deserved so much more. A wall erupted in your mind, locking your guilt away with everything else you were supposed to be feeling at the moment, your heart once again emptying of the hurt it had felt, leaving you with blissful numbness.
Cresting the top of the stairs, you were faced with one of the homeliest scenes in the house. A large four-poster bed piled high with various pillows, cushions and blankets stood against the back wall, yet another window seat snuggled against the window straight ahead of you, overlooking the opposite side of the forest. Two hunting rifles, one barrel crossed over the other, hung triumphantly above the headboard, yet another set of antlers positioned between the two guns, larger than the other sets you’d seen yet. You couldn’t imagine the choice of decor was Logan’s idea, at least you vaguely hoped it wasn’t, but it made you wonder who this place originally belonged to. 
Your shoulder went limp as you carelessly dropped your bag to the floor at the foot of the bed, turning to your left to see the door to the bathroom slightly ajar. Crossing over the thick rug on the floor, you pulled the door open, eyes widening in slight surprise. It was a lot bigger than you’d expected for an ensuite. A large bathtub took up most of the space, the shower standing right next to it. You were glad they weren’t one and the same, for some reason you had a vendetta against bathtubs that doubled up as a shower. Maybe the reason lay in that fucking folder, who knows?
Stripping yourself of your sweaty clothes, you cracked the window open, allowing fresh air to circulate around the room before fiddling with the taps and switches of the electric shower. You wondered how often Logan visited, considering how well kept the place was, and how well everything still worked. Steam rolled from the shower into the rest of the bathroom as you stepped beneath the stream, your skin tingling with the heat. It was a pleasant sensation, to feel something other than all-consuming guilt, sinking despondency or nothing at all. You cranked up the dial on the temperature, hissing slightly as the water increased from warm to scalding, staining your skin red raw. 
The feeling was addictive, turning ever so often to get that kick of pain on whichever side of your body wasn’t beneath the volcanic stream, inhaling as the pain drowned every other sensation in your chest and head. There was no room for anything else other than the burning against your flesh. You only wished you could turn the dial further, but it seemed you’d reached the maximum. 
It could have been anywhere between a few minutes and twenty years before Logan came up to check on you, you’d lost complete track of time. There was a soft knock at the door, a vague call of your name you barely heard and partially ignored in favour of getting lost in the heat. At what point you dropped to the floor, knees hugged against your chest, you couldn’t recall, eyes too focused on the pattern of the droplets against the tiled floor to look up as he entered.
“Christ it’s like a sauna in here, can’t fuckin’ see anyth–” He stopped instantly as he saw you huddled on the floor in the same position you’d spent a good portion of the journey in. But that wasn’t what scared him. It was the angry red of your skin that had alarm bells ringing loudly in his head. He rolled up the sleeve of his flannel shirt, preparing to plunge his hand through the cascading fall to switch the power off. But the moment his skin came in contact with the water, he hissed loudly. “Fuck! ‘S fuckin’ scalding sweetheart.” You didn’t move. Didn’t even look as if you’d noticed him. Panic surged in his veins, gritting his teeth tightly as he endured the searing burn of the lava stream to twist the handle for power, taking a breath as the waterfall eased from a deluge to mere droplets. 
Only then did you look up, as if snapped from a daze. He crouched before you as you blinked at him, remembering where you were and what you were doing. However, what you should say in this moment never came to you, only able to stare straight ahead at him, his pinched brows and wide-eyed concern only fuelling the self-loathing in your gut. You hated the way he touched you so gently as if you deserved to be touched like that. You despised the way he draped a large, fluffy towel around your shoulders as if you’d done anything to warrant such comforts. 
And you couldn’t stand the way he hooked his arms beneath your knees and carried you from the bathroom, all without a single word. And you loathed how your body reacted, leaning into his touches like you had any right to comfort. You’d all but dragged him away from the life he’d built for himself. Dragged him away from people like Marie and Bobby. Fuck, you couldn’t even think about them right now. You’d stolen one of Marie’s best friends from her, how could you ever go back there now?
Would you ever go back there now? You hadn’t even thought about it. Most likely not. Why would they let you? You’d killed a team member, been sent away for two years, lost control of your mutation, tried to kill not only another team member but the man you love, and have been lying to everyone you’d ever met because the life you thought you’d lived never fucking existed and it turns out you were over eighty fucking years old. Scott was right. 
He should have killed you years ago.
“Lemme grab some aloe gel…” you’d been so lost in your head you hadn’t even noticed Logan removing the towel from your shoulders to inspect the raging raw burns on your back and arms. You barked a harsh, joyless laugh.
“Why? What does it matter?” you asked savagely, and Logan turned from where he stood near the bathroom doorway, slowly looking at you in suspicious bewilderment. “I mean, I can just heal, so who cares? I’ll just disappear into shadow and come back good as new, so don’t bother.” You shrugged, feeling burning hatred bubble in your gut. “That is, if I come back out at all, of course. Because that threat still hangs over my head every fucking day.” The shadows writhed with your growing fury, only furthering your tirade of self-deprecation. “And hey, would ya look at that, my mutation only fucking works when I’m insanely pissed off. And I lose control completely when I’m terrified, my only fucking instinct being to survive. How fucked up is that?” You continued, laughing bitterly as you stood from the bed. “Probably some result of whatever the hell is recorded in that file. Eighty years, by the way. Eighty fucking years. Here I was, the fucking asshole who thought she was thirty-two. Imagine that?” Your fingers found your scalp, scratching desperately at the roots of your hair as if to claw your way into your own mind and pry out your memories. “And you just seem to be fucking fine with everything!”
Logan didn’t so much as flinch as you directed your inferno of rage toward him. Sure, his heart shattered with your every word, but not because they hurt him.
“I’ve lied to you. For the past couple of months, I’ve straight-up been lying to your face. About everything! I’ve dragged you away from your friends, from your family, all because I manipulated you into thinking you owed me fucking anything. All those bullshit sob stories are lies. None of them even happened. And ya know what? I can’t even say if that’s true or not because I don’t fucking know.” You gestured to your surroundings wildly, laughing manically as the shadows whipped out from the walls like vines. You always knew the day would come when you completely lost your mind. 
“I killed the woman I loved because I couldn’t control myself. I tried my fucking damnest to kill you too, because it seems I just fucking bleed toxicity. And I don’t even know how twisted that makes you for still being here. For still caring. It’s fucking pathetic. I tried to fucking kill you, and all I can see is your ridiculous, unwavering sense of devotion. Do you know how fucked up that makes you? How little must your self-worth be that you’re still here? That is if this isn’t just another simulation created to test my mental durability because who fucking knows at this point? I sure as shit don’t. And ya know what’s worse? No matter what happens, I still have to read that fucking folder. Because we sure as hell can’t hide out here forever, and the only way I can even begin to understand anything is the one thing I can’t bring myself to do.
“So instead, instead I’ll just make everyone suffer along with me. Strength in numbers, right? I’ll just force you to isolate yourself away instead of getting the fuck on with it and reading that fucking file. Nah, I’d rather torture the people I care about, because that’s just what happens. That’s what always fucking happens. And I can’t seem to stop,” your hands returned to your hair as you slowed down, squeezing the sides of your head as if to silence your mind. “It never seems to stop. It’s all just so fucking loud. I just want it to stop… I just want everything to stop…” You sank to the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest, your back pressed against the end of the bed. “I’m so tired, Logan. I’m so fucking tired.” Your voice faded to a whisper as you screwed your eyes shut, your mind still a roaring tornado of anguish and heartbreak. You didn’t want to hurt him. Fuck, that was the last thing you wanted to do, but you did it in a desperate bid to keep him safe. Maybe, if you sank enough knives into his chest, he’d walk away. The shadows receded into their natural places as you withdrew back behind the walls inside your head. 
Logan thought he’d seen vulnerability before, both in you and in others. But the way you looked now, naked, trembling on the floor, your head tucked behind your knees, hands clawing at your own hair… 
Nothing could have prepared him for that. 
He said nothing, silently crossing the floor to kneel next to you. Softly, he removed your nails from your hair, setting your arms limp by your side as he cupped either side of your jaw, raising your head to look at him. Tears flowed freely from your eyes as you desperately searched his face. What for, he didn’t know, but he let you look. He let you hunt in the corners of his brows, digging around the slope of his nose, finally returning to his eyes. What you found, or rather didn’t find, pulled a sob from your chest, and he tucked your face beneath his chin. Wrapping his arms around your naked body, he just held you as stuttered sob after stuttered sob wracked your body.
Grief was a funny old thing. Always lurking around the corner, rearing its bittersweet head when you least expected it. You cried. You cried for Jade. You cried for Rowan. You cried for the other members of NLMO. You cried for Kitty, and her guilt for hating you. You cried for Ororo, having been burdened with the knowledge not even you wanted to know about yourself. 
You cried for Logan. Holy shit did you cry for Logan. You didn’t want this for him. Only the previous morning was he talking about being a normal couple and doing ‘normal couple things’, and now he was stuck in a relationship with a woman who didn’t even know who she was. Who didn’t know what parts of her were real and what parts were fabricated? Your voice scratched your throat raw, every breath like rusty nails in your lungs as you sobbed harder than you ever remember in your life, both real and fake. 
And he held you through all of it, gently whispering sweet nothings against your damp, tangled hair, soothing soft caresses against your bare skin with his calloused hands, fingertips grazing every scar he could reach, from the healed burn on your calf to the serrated needle in your neck. His hatred for the Kreva’s only grew with each newly discovered scar on your body, even as your full-bodied cries quietened to mere hiccups of despair. 
Tentatively he drew your head away from his damp neck, using his thumb to wipe away the salty lines carved down one side of your face, and using his little finger for the other. “C’mon firefly, let’s get you changed. Gotta do somethin’ ‘bout these burns too…” 
You shook your head with teary incredulity. “I don’t understand… why are you still doing this? Why do you still care? After everything I've just said. After everything I’ve done… why?”
“Because I love you.”
Your mind fell completely silent as you stared up at him in utter, petrified shock. “What…?” you managed to whisper, to his slight knowing smile.
“I love you.”
You shook your head again, though this time you looked horrified. “You’re insane.”
Logan nodded as if he already knew this. Of course, he was insane. But not simply because he loved you. He was insane because if anything happened to you, nothing and nowhere would be safe from him. He would walk through hell itself to get you back, and make as many deals with as many devils as he needed to. What was insane was the lengths he would go through to protect you. 
“Who am I, Logan? You read the folder, you’ve seen everything… how can you love what’s in there? Who am I?” You almost pleaded with him, and he caught the sides of your neck in his palms. 
“‘M gonna need you to listen real close, okay? That folder doesn’t define you. You are who you are in spite of what’s in that folder. I didn’t read all of it… I– I don’t know if I can. But from the reports I did see, you’re still you. You were almost killed because you stepped between your brother and four bullets to the chest, and I’ll be fuckin’ damned if I said you wouldn’t do that with who you are now. What you endured is fuckin’ harrowing, I’ll be honest. There were very few happy moments from what I saw, and fuck, if you don’t you deserve to be happy, none of the rest of us do.
“I don’t know if I’d read that entire folder if you gave the rest of my life, which I’m thinkin’ is a real long time. But if that’s how long it takes for you to read it, I’ll gladly spend the rest of my days with you. I don’t give a shit where we are. At the school, in this cabin, hell, we could be squatting under a bridge for all I care. I’m tired of being too damn scared of saying I love you. Because I fuckin’ do. And you’re crazy if you think any of this changes a goddamn thing about how I feel.”
It was your turn to be rendered completely speechless. Somehow, in one fell swoop, he’d put the fears that hovered around your head concerning him to rest. The terror that he was going to leave you, the fear that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him melted away as you peered into his hazel eyes shining with such conviction you wanted to sob into his arms all over again. 
“You love me?” you asked a little diffidently, and Logan rolled his eyes with a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. 
“It wasn’t obvious? I love you. And before you ask; yes. This is real.” you blew out a breath as he answered your question before you’d even had a chance. How did he know you so well? His hands moved from either side of your neck to your waist, helping you back onto your feet. You continued staring at him in awestruck adoration, still unable to quite believe what he’d said. He loved you. You don’t know why it came as such a shock, he’d shown you almost every day since you danced in the kitchen. Probably before that, in the way, he’d helped redesign your room. In the care he’d taken to learn about your mutation and adapt your new living situation accordingly before he even met you. Before he even believed you existed.
You followed almost blindly as he led you back into the bathroom, opening the cabinet behind the mirror and retrieving what he went to get before you exploded in front of him. Turning you around, he swiped your hair to one side, and you winced slightly at the cooling balm touching your shoulders, his hands gently kneading at the stiff muscles. The aloe took almost instant effect, soothing the angry burns left behind by your shower.
He worked in comfortable silence, snapping the lid back of the bottle and placing it back on the shelf when he was done. His fingertips grazed up and down your slickened arm, before placing both hands back on your shoulders and guiding you back out the bathroom to sit atop the bed. 
“I love you, too.”
Logan froze. Though it seemingly came out of nowhere, you’d said it like you’d wanted to say it for a long, long time. In the moment, he didn’t think he’d cared all that much that you hadn’t said it back to him, but hearing you say those words now, those words he’d been yearning to hear since he first set eyes on you and you teased him for something or other filled him with a warm sense of belonging. 
You smiled and his heart stopped as your eyes shone along with it. How did he get so damn lucky?
Bending at the waist, he tilted your head up with a finger beneath your chin, his other hand braced against your cheek as he moulded his lips against your own, finding an instant, slow rhythm. And if he hadn’t known you were utterly exhausted, he’d have you there and then, gasping and whimpering on his cock. But he could tell by the way you kissed him back, you were shattered. Not that he was in any rush. From the looks of things, it seemed like the two of you would be hiding away for some time.
Pulling away a fraction, Logan reached for the clothes he’d pulled out for you earlier from his closet before he interrupted your shower. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a pair of incredibly loose sweatpants and a faded t-shirt of his. He slipped the shirt over your head, biting back a smile as it all but hung off your shoulders, and you shot him a flat look. 
“I have my own clothes, ya know?” You pretended you were reluctant, though showed no signs of hesitation when he opened the waistband of the sweatpants for you to step into, pulling the drawstring tight around your waist. 
“I know.” Was all he responded, and you snorted a small laugh as he stepped back, almost to admire his work. You were positively drowning in fabric, the short sleeves of the t-shirt reaching your elbows, sweats hanging low off your hips. But it was comfy and smelt like him, so honestly it didn’t matter to you. “C’mon, I made soup.” He outstretched his hand toward you for you to take, which you did with a suspicious raise of your brow. 
“You had fresh ingredients for soup?” You asked, following behind him as he led you back down the stairs, the crackling of the lit hearth filling you with a sense of cosy tranquillity you never expected to feel again, not after everything that had happened.
“A’ight so I found a couple cans of soup and heated 'em up, same difference.” As if being parted from you robbed him of breath, Logan brought you back into his arms, feeling his chest loosen when you didn’t resist the way he walked you over to the gas stove.
“I’m going to ignore that,” you instinctively took the wooden spoon from the rack of utensils to the right of the backsplash, stirring the bubbling pot and grimacing slightly as you felt the bottom of the pan. Definitely burnt. Though you couldn’t exactly blame that on him. He’d been a little preoccupied with making sure you didn’t plunge the cabin into suffocating shadow. “A gas stove in a wooden cabin is a bold choice.” You mentioned absently, turning the dial for the gas down and watching as the blue flame lessened beneath the iron pan. Logan set his chin atop your head, arms still circling your waist.
“Not my decision. Previous guy’s choice.” he offered as a means of explanation, and you shrugged in acceptance. Much like you thought with most of the decor in the cabin, whilst there were a few things you’d noticed that you were sure were his, the rest you couldn’t see being his interior design choices. Not that Logan had much interior design, even his room at the mansion was pretty barren. 
Reaching above you, Logan pulled open one of the cupboards, keeping one of his arms still wrapped around your middle, and started rifling through the contents. There was a slight clatter of boxes before he pulled one of them out, setting it down on the counter. You eyed it curiously, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you read the italic cursive on the front of the box. 
Honey and Chamomile tea. You dropped your head back against his chest, heart almost exploding when he left briefly to retrieve two mugs, one of them you knew like the back of his hand. 
When the fuck had he found the time to grab your favourite mug? He stood next to you, gas clicking rhythmically as he went to light a second burner, the huff of ignition breaking you from your stare of wonder and watching as he placed the black kettle atop the flame. It was rudimentary, old school but you kind of liked it. It suited him. 
Logan’s heart and eyes softened as he looked down at the top of your head resting against his bicep, not bothering to fight the urge to press a kiss to your hair. 
“I love you.” You whispered, and the words struck him like a bolt of lightning, still completely unused to both saying and hearing them. He let the warmth in his chest wash over him, let the encompassing adoration flood his veins and fill his heart. He couldn’t be by your side in the past, couldn’t save you from the horrors you’d endured. But he was going to make damn sure he was there for your future, whether you’d stayed in the cabin or managed to return to the mansion, he’d ensure he was by your side for all of it. 
Never again would you face these things alone. 
“I love you, too.”
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lit3rallyll0yd · 10 months ago
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Hey love, hope your all right. So Hoe about dazai with an s/o who always acts cheery and all childish like him in order to hide their immense trauma. So whenever someone scolds Them bit too loud reader flinches but again brushes it off?? ❤️
SRRY IS THIS TOO LIKE ANGSTY I RLLY AM CRAVING FOR HURT TO COMFORT RN----
You don't have to do it BTW ^^
"it's okay... to not feel happy all the time."
taglist : @justcallmesakira @riiwrites @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie
warnings : angst to comfort, lowercase writing, cursing, mention of past abuse, evil exes(heheh scott pilgrim), kunikida is SOOOO out of character holy shiiitttt (╥﹏╥) not proofread, sorry!!
HAII BABEEEE!!! consider your cravings feed!! i'm actually like this irl omg is that why i'm so excited to write this???? hope you enjoy
i love dazai so much :( my back hurts from slouchinggg i'll have back problems by the time i'm fricking twenty!!!!
osamu dazai x gn reader
dazai
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HEADCANONS ₊˚ෆ
you are so cute.
almost everyday is a new adventure for him when he's with you.
he's the first thing you see in the morning.
he opens his eyes and your all in his face like; "hi, sisters!!" and he literally shrieks, but don't tell anybody.
you start tickle fights with him all the time when you seem to be in an upset mood or just want to hear him laugh, but can you ever win?
he will play along with you because too be honest; he is just as childish as you are from time to time. ESPECIALLY when he's with you!!
you grab his arm a lot and jump up and down when something really gets you excited.
once, kunikida agreed to use his card to buy you some ice cream at the fair and you grabbed onto dazai's arm and almost slapped him in the face with his own hand.
he's never really understood why you get so like that over something so childish.
be glad it's not fyodor; SHEESH.
until, one evening.
you screwed up on a mission with atsushi; too which caused kunikida to throw his anger out on you. all the two of you were ordered to do, was to steal the documents you were ordered to retrieve in order to take down this small organization of scary gifted (not the port guys; •⤙•)
atsushi had to save you from a sudden attack, injuring him in the process, having no other choice but to retreat.
yosano treated him up right away.
atsushi noticed the way your arms would flinch up to your face each time kunikida would raise his voice, but honestly kunikida was just ranting about how stupid it was for you to get distracted over such a childish thing like a stray kitten.
he gave kunikida a look, saying to calm down and just go rage somewhere else without having you in the room.
after that you mentioned none of this to dazai; however atsushi thought telling him the way you reacted would be the right thing to do as both your friends.
SCENARIO ₊˚ෆ
"HOW can you be so careless, y/n?!"
it was almost like you felt a knife stab through your rib.
over and over for the past couple minutes kunikida has been going off about you getting distracted on the mission you and your weretiger friend, atsushi nakajima, were assigned on.
"i thought you would be perfect for this job because of how focused you were on all our other missions. WHAT HAPPENED?"
you gulped on your spit, your arms shalking from the once again booming voice come from kunikida.
it was a simple mistake-
"SIMPLE??"
atsushi side eyed you to see how you were holding as he was just awkwardly standing beside you as kunikida continued to just shout at you.
he would noticed your lips tremble ever so slightly, you head held down low as your fingers played with the fabric of your pants as you plucked up the courage to finally speak; "i'm sorry, kunikida. i didn't mean to screw up-"
"we'll, you wouldn't have to be sorry if you had just DONE YOUR JOB!"
your eyes were fixated on the floor still as you took in a deep breath, "jesus, i knew you were childish, but y/n what the fuck!?"
he swore.
atushsi was also getting a bit uncomfortable at kunikida's screaming session.
"atsushi got hurt on this mission, y/n, because you!"
without another word, you ran past atsushi who reached out t grab you back, however kunikida told him to let you go as he sat at his desk, removing his glasses, rubbing the bridge is nose.
with a frown he watched as you ran, looking at the carpeted floor to notice some tear stains following the exit.
you ran.
and ran, and ran, and ran.
into on coming traffic, past strangers who complained when you accidently bumped into them, and to yours and dazai's apartment.
there you were now. standing in the lobby of the apartment, the security guard awkwardly looking at you as you entered the elevator that has opened after a couple of seconds of waiting.
you used the mirror to look at yourself in as you quickly tried to wipe the tears away from your face, and maybe any makeup you may have had on? does it matter, it all melted away anyways!
your floor arrived, and the ding from the elevator dinged as you exit it and slowly walk toward the door of your home.
you fumbled for your keys that were in your pocket, even after all that running and bumping you did to get here, hands shaking with fear.
kunikida's voice echoed through your head; "are you really that childish? he never seemed to care...why does he have to shout?? there's no need for it, no? and even atsushi was there, double the embarrassment!!"
"'donna!?"
dazai's voice rang through your head as you looked up at him at the door step. oh, right, you unlocked the door but have yet to open it, causing osamu to do it for you.
"i thought you were at work, your shift doesn't end till..oh, well you still have 35 minutes?"
you pushed the thoughts in your head in the back of your mind, and gave him the biggest smile you could muster and hugged him, giggling and spinning around until you reached inside.
"don't worry, i just felt like coming home early to see my handsome and amazing boyfriend, who promised me ice cream waffles when i did get home!"
dazai chuckled, grabbing you by the waist and using his foot to close the door, managing to keep you in the air with one hand as he quickly used the other one to lock the door behind the two of you.
"well, i can tell someone's been excited all day?" you giggled, although your throat hurts from crying so much on the way here, dazai hadn't had seem to notice.
or so you think.
he placed you on the couch, gently kissing your lips before slowly pulling away. your eyes were still closed as he did and a smile on your face.
"feel free to choose whatever you like, my dear~" he taps the remote for the tv on your head and hands it to you; "well thank you kindly, my...man?"
he smiled at your cute comeback, causing you both to giggle as he walked to the kitchen.
you could hear him to rattle around with the toaster and opening and closing of fridges and freezers, probably for the ice cream.
when he was out of sight, you checked to feel anymore tears on your eyes and sniffled softly, not knowing dazai had already figured everything out.
"so, how was my sweethearts day, today? make any new friends?"
you chuckled, knowing he meant about the stray kittens you always seem to run to.
"it was alright, what about yours?" you tried to change the focus onto him, but he was smarter then that.
"mm, boring without my angel. day-off's are so sad without you," you heard the sound of the waffle popping out of the toaster, "didn't you have that mission today with atsushi? tell me, how did that go?
he expected the sudden silence that had filled the room. he scooped vanilla ice-cream into a small bowl for you; and only you, as he hummed.
"'donna, don't go quiet now. talk to me..."
you felt the tears roll back again. it was that voice that made you all emotional again. it was so soft and gentle, almost as if he's whispering into your when he's on the opposite of the room.
you took a shaky deep breath in as you stopped clicking the buttons on the remote, you stared at it, your hands shaking once again as you tried to control your crying.
dazai had a blank face was he added whip cream to top of the dish, and finally emerged from the kitchen...his eyes immediately on your figure which was seated on the couch, right where he left you, however your cute and childish personality wasn't.
he slowly walked over to you, his eyes drifting away from you to place the bowl on the table in front of you. you looked down to take a look at the dish; it was a waffle and ice cream scooped into it, like it's own bowl, and whip cream on the sides to give it the mountain shape, "you can do more then stare at it, ya'know?" he smiled, sitting beside you suddenly and wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
you felt yourself suddenly start crying; to which he pouts at; "it was first mission, darling, there will always be more-"
"IT'S NOT ABOUT ME FAILING IT!"
he looked at you like wide eyes and nod; "something more?"
you sighed loudly and hugged yourself, "it's just-" you kept stuttering due to your lack of breath from your sobbing,
"take your time, it's alright." he gently scratches your scalp to sooth you.
"kunikida...gohot so mahad...he...he yelled, he swore at him, he got close to my face...ahand the..thehe thoughts..ihi..ihi could only thihink abouhut my ex...whoho would do the sahame when i screhw something uhup.."
although you kept sniffling and breathing hard through, dazai understood each and every word.
his hands moved to rub the back of your neck, as his other held your hand tightly as you cuddled into him, your tears staining his dress shirt.
"ihi...just got schahared...ihi just whanted to...to have you...buhut i didn't want to bohother you with my prohoblems.."
dazai couldn't believe was he was hearing.
you, giving him problems about your mental health? what are you, MAD?? no, just insecure. which he understood completely.
"may i?" he asks, taking your cheeks in his one palm, making you look at him. not knowing what you agreeing to, he suddenly pulls you in for a tender, soft kiss.
you almost forgot what his kisses felt like, all the memories of your ex made you almost forget you have found somebody new, who will never, ever, want to hurt you without having any sense of what he's talking about.
moments later, he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours's as tears spilled from your eyes; however these were the tears that brought joy and happiness to your relationship.
he was never good with the words of comfort, however this is the reason why he is learning to be better, for you.
"there are bad, bad people in this world, and sometimes they change, some don't. i would know, but that doesn't mean everyone has such an evil heart. like you.." he chuckled, poking your chest, "you have such a pure heart, only the kindest of souls could ever have a chance to ever get close to it and open up to it. kunikida is just a grumpy man, when things don't go as planned he just goes.."
dazai circled his finger by his temple, causing that adorable smile to appear on your face.
"oh, there's that smiiile~" he laughed as he suddenly dig his long fingers into your soft sides, causing you to squeal and laugh immediately, "theres that smile, yeaah, awh~ your so cute, i could just eat you up-"
"DAHAZAI!"
you screeched when he nibbles on your neck, now tickling your upper ribs as well.
all those nasty thoughts that were in the back of your mind, dazai has a way of taking them and tossing them out the window and making sure you go to sleep with that cute smile on your face every night.
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