#but i think Scott was unconsciously thinking that

[rainydaydreamsideblog]

(X-Men) Logan Howlett x Reader: The Injury 2

You can't help but notice Logan is always looking out for you, and you wonder if it's because he thinks you're incapable. Little did you know there's another reason entirely.

Word Count: 2,236

Warnings: Typical X-Men Violence, Blood

Link to Part 1

Hands gripping the back of the jet seats, you exhaled loudly in a near grunt.

This was always the worst part.  Waiting.  Just standing there and waiting for something terrible to happen so that you could do something about it.

It’s not like you weren’t trained in combat.  You could handle yourself, at least.  But the fact of the matter was that your particular abilities weren’t geared for offensive attacks like the rest.  As Professor Xavier told you, you gave the team quite the strategic advantage when utilized at the right moment.

In other words, it would be no good to the others if you were the one who was injured.  

Fair enough.

But the waiting…

When the static came through in your earpiece, you straightened up.  Hopefully, it would be news of a successful mission and that the team was on their way back to the ship.

You weren’t so lucky this time.

���I’ve been injured,” Storm’s voice spoke weakly.

“Storm, are you alright?” you asked.  No response.

The realization tore through you like a jolt of lightning.  “I’m on my way.” Heart pounding, you exited the jet and checked that the coast was clear. When you reached the site, it took you a moment to evaluate the situation.  Fists were locked in combat.  It was mutant powers galore. Metal frames were flying.  You jumped when someone let a construction crane drop, causing the ground beneath you to quake.

A glimpse of white caught your attention.  You backtracked in your initial scan of the scene to see Storm lying beside a chunk of busted concrete. Her head was angled awkwardly with her face turned away from you.

Your muscles coiled as you prepared to dart into the fray of things.

Scott’s voice suddenly came through. “You need to wait.” He was in the midst of the fight, gloved fingers resting on the side of his visor, ready to activate it.  “Things are too chaotic at the moment.  You’re at risk.”

“It looks bad,” you replied immediately.  “I need to help her now.”  You sprung into action, dodging a worn, yellow hunk of what looked to be plating from another construction vehicle that was launched at you. There was no time to trace the path of that shattered piece and see where it came from.

But what you did happen to see in your race to Storm’s aid was a tall form standing slightly hunched in an attack stance, muscular arms tensed, with metallic claws out and glinting in the construction lights. Logan’s dark eyes were glaring furiously past you at presumably whoever had chucked that object in your direction, the bridge of his nose crinkling in a snarl. His chest rose and fell heavily with a growl.

It was a sight that lasted only a mere second as you ran past. Storm had your full attention as you knelt down beside her unconscious form. You removed your gloves and carefully turned her head to face you, revealing a gash of glistening red.

“Storm?” you murmured.  No response.

You gently rested a hand on either side of her head, closing your eyes and concentrating on your abilities.  A familiar ache started in the tips of your fingers and moved up your arms. Then came a splitting headache. 

Oh, her injuries were bad.  

The pain in your head made you groan aloud, but it was beyond worth it to see the gash had disappeared from hers, leaving only a streak of blood behind in her halo white hair.  There was no way of knowing exactly when the symptoms would fade. In the meantime, you were a sitting duck in the middle of the battlefield with your limbs weak and head in agony.

A gloved hand grasped your arm comfortingly, and you opened your eyes once more to see Storm with concern in her deep gaze. She helped you to your feet, her eyes flickering to the nearest safe place for you to hang tight while you recovered. You stumbled over to the edge of the site, hand grasping desperately at a metal frame to hold onto.

Logan was engaged in heated hand-to-hand with another opponent. Everything around him appeared a mere blur in your eyes, with the heavy duty lights casting a dusty haze over the site-turned-battlefield. Other figures of your teammates moved, but all you saw was Logan taking another swipe at his foe.

You must have not been in your right mind due to the recovery because all you could think about was him. Your eyes traveled the length of his strong arms instead of scanning for any encroaching danger to your hiding spot. It took you back to one of your last missions, when he put his arm around you, forcing you to the ground with him, to ensure you avoided a blast heading your way.

The sound of his close breathing.  The rise and fall of his chest against your back. The immediate question spoken in a deep, gentle voice, “you okay?” right next to your ear.  Not to mention the effortless way he set you back on your feet.

You steadied yourself, relieved that you were gaining your bearings. It was much easier to focus on the here and now with your mind cleared of the reverie.  The enemy was in retreat, and the battle turned into a scramble to snatch up just one of them so they could be interrogated for information on their leader’s HQ.

There was one dragging himself along the ground, bleeding heavily from his left leg.

It was hard not to pity him, especially when you saw one of his teammates just up and leave him without remorse. He was coughing and sputtering, spraying the ground with blood droplets.

“He’s too wounded to speak now,” Jean announced, kneeling beside him.  “He needs immediate care.”

“Let me,” you breathed, doing your very best to walk over without a stumble.

Logan immediately stepped in front of you, his large hand coming up to take hold of your outstretched one before it could make contact, resting his other hand on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you. It didn’t take much. You were still rather weak.  

“Absolutely not.”

As much as your body wanted to cave to his touch, your mind addled from pain, you were determined as ever. And his tone left much to be desired.

“Oh, excuse me, Dad,” you snipped, meeting his gaze to show you were still no less serious. “This is why I’m here.”

“You’re here to help the X-Men,” he pointed out, staring deeply into your eyes insistently. 

“I am helping the X-Men…by helping him. We won’t get anywhere with leads if he succumbs to his wounds on the way back.”

“This is the guy who just tried to off you about ten minutes ago.”

When you weren’t deterred by his addition, Logan scoffed, his hand remaining on your shoulder. Storm stepped in to offer up a less antagonistic word of caution to you.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You still appear drained.”

Your tone matched hers, losing its edge because of her more amiable demeanor as opposed to the grouchy Wolverine’s. “Yes, I’m fine.  I am back to normal already.  Let me do this for the team. Please, I can’t stand watching him suffer anymore.”

All eyes were on Logan.

He released you, holding his hands up in a begrudging surrender to your wishes. You weren’t back to normal. Not really. Everyone knew it. Of course you still felt like you’d been hit by a garbage truck when you let your hand fall to the man’s neck to make contact. The ache in your limbs turned to fire, and your head was pounding again.

Ugh, it sucked. 0/10, not a good time.

You stumbled back, falling right down on your bottom in the dirt, and clutched your head.

At some point, you must’ve blacked out because you awoke aboard the X-Jet, strapped into your seat. All was quiet, save for the hum as it travelled at high speeds. Through the haze of waking from a short rest, the events already felt distant, like a dream. Unreal.

The lingering effects of your abilities had ceased, fortunately. Each breath you took was free from the splitting pain.

“Oh, look who’s up,” Logan grumbled.

“What happened?”

If looks could kill. “What do you think?”

“Okay, okay. Too much at once. I’ll try to avoid that next time,” you said, heaving a sigh. Trying to act nonchalant, you stretched a bit in your seat. “Are we almost back to the Mansion?”

“We’ve just arrived,” Cyclops replied, flipping a few switches that presumably activated the landing sequence. “When we get in, you’re going straight to the medical wing.”

“Yes, Sir.” You gave a little salute.

Logan practically escorted you the entire way, and for good measure he waited around while you got checked out. Fortunately, everything seemed to be fine at that point. As soon as you were deemed fit to leave the medical wing, Logan visibly relaxed.

It hadn’t escaped you that he only got that way when it came to your safety. Generally, he was a rather easy-going guy. Ask anyone on the team, and they’d agree that he wasn’t one to get involved in anyone’s business or make demands. He was very much a live and let live man when it came to others… Except when someone was at risk. And as of late, it seemed you were the focal point of his concerns in particular.

Naturally, you explored a series of reasons why that could be. One idea that stood out to you especially was that perhaps Wolverine’s incessant need to defend you on the battlefield stemmed from the way your abilities worked. Perhaps this made you seem quite vulnerable to him as someone fighting alongside a team of very powerful individuals that utilized their abilities during combat, rather than in the aftermath.

It hardly seemed fair. Your abilities may differ from the others, but you were quite capable of looking after yourself when it came to a fight. You knew your limits. You trained well with the rest of the team. His level of concern just didn’t seem to add up. It was a bit insulting.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant a babysitter,” you commented finally as the two of you departed from the medical wing. You walked side-by-side at a rather hurried pace. “I have only ever done my part. And I’ve done it well, if I do say so myself.”

“A little too well,” he grumbled, glancing in the other direction.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m confused. Do you, or do you not, think I can handle myself on missions?”

“I know you can handle missions,” he snapped, then took a breath and lowered his voice, finally halting to turn and meet your gaze sincerely. “I know that. That’s not the issue here.”

You realized that you must have subconsciously taken a step closer because suddenly you were captivated by his dark eyes and trying very hard not to let your gaze flicker to his lips. “Then why do you act like I can’t?”

“Can’t you just accept that I care about ya’?”

That and the fact that he was now inches away from your face was enough to short-circuit your brain. You were frozen in place, unable to form a coherent thought other than how you were lost in space, and the only thing grounding you was the texture of his hair, the way his brows furrowed beautifully over his eyes, and his lips which were still parted after his confession.

“Hey, I- oh.” Scott had just turned the corner and found you, clearing his throat. “I was just on my way to check on you.”

Logan looked the other way, and you took a few steps to put some distance between the two of you.

“I’m alright. I was cleared to head out,” you told him.

“Good. I’m glad.” He gave a slow nod. “I hate to do this, but our lead says he won’t talk unless you’re there. It seems he trusts you after you helped him. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind…”

“No, I don’t mind,” you replied, though the prospect of being present for the questioning was puzzling. Was it truly just a matter of trust? Or did the lead have something more sinister in mind? Security levels made the situation beyond safe. You knew that. But still, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness that suddenly gripped you.

Glancing back at Logan, you said softly, “this discussion will have to wait.”

“I guess so,” he agreed. As you started to follow Scott down the hall, Logan called your name. You looked over your shoulder to see him giving you a knowing look, as if he had read your mind. “Mind if I come along?”

You nodded. “Sure. Scott?”

“We could use you if there’s a need for a “bad 'cop' during the interview,” Scott added. “It would probably be best if you’re there. Just in case.”

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief that only you and apparently Logan heard. He walked by your side, though neither of you uttered a word about it. Ten minutes ago you might’ve rolled your eyes at the idea of him accompanying you to this interview… But now, you were beyond glad he was.

[kathrahender]

Please tell me I'm not the only one who wanted Chris Argent and Peter Hale to find about that time Scott nearly commited suicide.

[lonely-night]

their chemistry is INSANE

[bravevolunteer]

what if we kissed on the wiki page for disembowelment

[sbcdh]

"You saw it?"

"For a second. Yeah. I saw one."

"Start at the beginning."

"Hoo. Okay. Uhhh... It was 77. I think. I was air force. Or, hypnoengineering support staff contracted to help out around St. Louis."

"That's how you came into your supply of JVH-1"

"It was JVH-11 actually, and yeah, the fuckin, uh- the requisitions officer at Scott was an old buddy of mine. We used to fuck around in college before I, you know-"

"Yes I understand."

"I worked records for Sears-Roebuck, I had all the accounting expertise, as well as a ready supply of LSD."

"How did you start?"

"Oh it was easy at first. Really just selling off phials of the new experimental stuff to finance guys. They'd go nuts for the stuff, pay top dollar for it too. Hell, I could get 100$ for a milliliter. Made it easy to keep my contacts bought in and re-invested. Honestly I don't think the req office would even know that we were skimming if they weren't in on it.

But, you know how it is with hypnoregulation. Transchronological market data is worth it's weight in diamond. It started with the odd photo of a 2q-week readout, then biometric data, then, uh- then. Well, we decided to try it ourselves."

"You attempted full sub-finantial emmanation?"

"No no god no, what're you nuts? No, see. We figured if one person can meld their brain with the market, we just had to get as close as we could to that guy, and mark the twain, hypnologically speaking."

"Mark the twain?"

"Yeah, see, okay. A plutophant in full emmanation isn't like us. We exist at a single point in time, an R1 rational market actor. But they exist in multiple points in time, back in 77, I think the government could hit R6 with that analogue tech. Most people can hit R2 with a single hit of JVH-1, with practice you can hit R3, but anything higher than R3 takes a pretty serious support team. But here's the thing, I had a whole cadre of co-implicated members of a military grade hypnoengineering support team. All we needed was the space."

"The warehouse. Schaeffer Marble and Tile was it?"

"Bingo. See here's the thing. You know why the government had to start building those special regulation temples? It's not just for security. Once you crack the R6 barrier, Plutophants start leaving what's called a wake. You know, like a fuckin, uh, like a boat. They're imperceptible to normal people, but if you have sensitive enough instruments or, say, a person in the edge of sub-market emmanation.

See the government didn't know at the time, but if you balanced the drugs just right, and kept someone right on the edge of R4, you could actually read the plutophant's interpretations by their wake rather than their direct neurofeedback. It's not nearly as precise, but if you have a good team and you know what to look for, you can get some really, really valuable market data that way."

"And your co-worker?"

"You mean Mills? Fuck. Yeah...Mills. Right."

"Take your time."

"No, no I'm good. It's... It's uh, It's dangerous. Brains aren't meant to take that much JVH-11 all at once. We could stay on R4, but what we didn't have was a recovery team, or a medical team, or recon team. It was me, Mills, Israel, Connaught, and Marsh. The five of us were the only ones in the soup. Bruso was running the machines and Lasker was monitoring the readout."

"Can you tell us what happened?"

"Yeah. Yeah. It was a normal intrusion. Hypnogrid emmanation is pretty simple with our tech and support. Sedation was all green, hypnoinduction was green. Smooth as silk. Landed about 40 minutes from our work location. We had the codes from the IRSAW people that morning, all we had to do was maintain hypnoinduction for 40 minutes while traversing the colon and we'd be able to-"

"I'm sorry, colon?"

"Oh come on. Colon. Collective Unconscious. Col-Un. Colon."

"I- of course. Continue."

"Hey, have you ever been on a dive before?"

"Can we focus on your statement?"

"It's important. I need to know if this next bit is gonna make sense to you or not."

"I've undergone basic anti-intrusion training standard for IRS investigation task force officers."

"So you've done safe dives. White room? Castle training? Putting up the wall? All that jazz?"

"That's correct."

"Did they ever tell you why it's dangerous to perform off-site hypnoincursion in meta-unstsble hypnospace?"

"They did."

"Well they're lying...don't look at me like that. I'm not bullshitting you. They're lying...there's...there's shit out there okay? There's things out there."

"Mills?"

"Yeah. Mills. Uh..."

"Take your time."

"Yeah yeah. Quit interruptin me. Mills... Uh, yeah so we were T-Plus 30 into the dive. Bruso gives us a heads up that some hypnoflora is headed our way, but can't get a read on mass. Says we should steer clear, but we are so close. Israel had handled some hypnoflora before, so we weren't worried. But it was... I dunno. I can't explain."

"Do your best."

"Like. Okay. Meta-unstsble dives are fucked. They're acid trips. The St. Louis hypnoscape already doesn't look normal, but Scott Base looked like some kinda bastard lovechild of a medieval castle and a seashell, all twisting up into itself. The streets were a chessboard, and all the streetlights we're these tall kinda mannequin lookin' things holding a tiny sun in their hand. Everything is fucked, it's all topsy turvy. But it's okay, because it's meta-unstable hypnospace, its not SUPPOSED to be normal. And then there was a Red Sock."

"Like for the feet?"

"No. Like. In the middle of this fucked up dreamscape, there's suddenly a batter for the Boston Red Sox. He's standing there, maybe 50 feet away. He's got a bat in one hand and a mitt in the other, and he's just kinda walking towards us. Nobody really knew what to do. It didn't look dangerous, but something wasn't right. It didn't fit. We just kinda stood there, looking at the thing. Israel starts talking to Bruso, asking him what to do. Suddenly, Bruso is screaming at us, telling us to book it. He's screaming into the com, telling us to prepare for de-emmanation. Nobody knows what's happening. Israel is suddenly standing between Mills and the Red Sock, and..."

"Any information you can recall could be of use."

"It's...it's mostly feeling at this point. You ever been having a normal dream? Like, a good, normal dream? And suddenly you realize that something is really, really wrong? There's signs. For me? It's that the lights go out. Suddenly day turns to night, and something about this batter just makes me want to curl up and hide. Suddenly, moving through the world is like trying to swim through molasses. I try to run, but nothing moves, and everything is dark. The world is shifting. There's shadows under the bathroom door that can't be happening. A man who looks like Jesus. An old and terrible house and an old man with no name whose face I can't remember. The batter swings at Mills and she just...vanishes. Shes gone. Bruso pulls us out a second later."

"So this, batter killed Ms. Mills?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. We get out, she's comatose. Whatever that thing did to her, she was still in hypnospace. I gave her a hot shot of barbiturates. Her brain activity slowed to R0 after about 90 seconds."

[gtwscratch]

I JUST HAD A REALLY COOL IDEA FOR AN AU BASED ON THE NEW WILD LIFE EPISODE. HEAVY(?) ANGST UP AHEAD AND ALSO SPOILERS TO SESSION 7 SO BE WARNED!

LIFE SERIES MEMBERS BUT THEY GOT THEIR POWERS FROM LAB EXPERIMENTATION!!!!!

Okay I'm switching to lowercase so I'm not just screaming at you guys haha

[EDIT] Guess who’s fully elaborating on this AU with Subject files and a fic? :3

Project X Master Post

===============================

Imagine Martyn curled up in the corner of his cell, covering his ears bc he doesn't know how to block things out and everything is so loud.

Imagine Scott transforming from an aquatic creature back to his regular form, but he still has gills, and he panics when he can't breathe.

Imagine Jimmy turning in invisible for the first time and not knowing how to turn back, and he thinks he's stuck that way forever.

Imagine Ren transforming the first few times, but there's always something off about him. He looks eerie, like something from uncanny valley.

Imagine Scar not knowing his own strength and jokingly punching Mumbo, only to send him flying into the wall and causing his death.

Imagine Cleo trying so hard to get Mumbo and Skizz to act the way that they used to when she summons them, but it's never truly them. Something is always wrong.

Imagine BigB being terrified when he summons the creaking for the first time, not realizing they're on his side and thinking they'll attack him.

Imagine Gem astral projecting as an escapism, talking to Mumbo and Skizz and "leaving" the facility, but she can't truly leave.

Imagine Impulse and Tango nearly getting to escape with their powers, their friends cheering them on from inside their cells, and just when they're in the clear, Impulse gets tranquilized and falls unconscious. Tango can't bare to leave his buddy behind. They both get collars that block their abilities and heavy monitoring after that stunt.

Lizzie feels bad about her power. She's tried to escape as well, but when she realized the blindness affected her friends, it freaked her out so much that security was able to catch up to her and take her back to her cell.

Imagine Bdubs sleeping diligently through every night and dealing with nightmares of the hell they've all been put through so his friends don't.

Imagine Pearl wishing she could fly out in the open air, desperate for that kind of freedom that she knows she will never have.

Imagine Etho trying to bring down his mace to pretend to hit Bdubs, and when he move to the side to dodge, it actually puts him in the way of Etho's strike. The absolute terror that fills Etho is so bad that he never jokes like that again, even if it barely hurt him.

Imagine Joel looking around and analyzing the rooms, thinking of how he could scale the walls with his ability to escape through an air vent, but he can never bring himself to do it because he refuses to leave Lizzie.

Imagine Grian being physically and emotionally strained trying to learn everyone's powers and how to properly use them, wishing he just had one of his own instead.

Imagine Skizz and Mumbo both dying (Skizz due to the intense tests and Mumbo due to the effects the testing had on Scar) before they had a chance to gain powers of their own. Don't imagine those powers being just what the group needs to escape.

===============================

I think I might write each of these as a one shot. That would certainly be a LOT of fun :) lmk what you guys think please!

[cowboybeepboop]

Rough

Pairing: Logan “Wolverine” Howlett x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: You’re Scott’s younger sister, you meet Logan when the x-men rescue him and Rogue from Magneto. 

Warnings: Choking, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, p in v. 

a/n: Idk but there's gonna be a part two where you’re both walking the hall and your brother notices the marks on Logan’s back and your dazed/flushed face. I hope you enjoy and if you have any requests feel free to send them my way <3

As you carefully adjust the IV line attached to the unconscious man's arm, you feel a sudden jolt of panic as his eyes snap open. In a flash, his hand shot out and wrapped around your neck, squeezing with surprising strength. 

The room spun as your vision blurred, the grip of the stranger tightening with every struggling breath you took. Gasping for air, you try to push him away, but his other hand shoots out, pushing you against the wall. 

His eyes, a piercing shade of blue, bore into you, filled with a primal fear and confusion that mirrored your own. The X-Men had brought him here after rescuing him and Rogue from Magneto's clutches, but clearly, he didn't know that yet. 

“Please,” you gasp as you struggle in his grasp. “Let go, please.” 

Logan's eyes roam over your face, taking in your features, your expression, the way you struggle against him. His heart seems to stutter in his chest, his mouth going dry as he notices your flushed face, your furrowed brows, how vulnerable you look in his grasp.

But despite these reactions, he doesn't waver, his grip on your neck only tightens, the primal instinct to defend himself overriding any other thoughts he might have. “Who the hell are you….” He said with a deep rough voice as he keeps a firm grip on you. 

Your eyes begin to glaze over as you reach for his hand, fingers lacing around his wrist in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “Please,” you let out a strangled moan at the pressure, a mixture of feelings clouding your mind. 

"I'm.. I'm just trying to help," you manage to gasp out, "I don't want to hurt you, please, just let go.." As you press a hand gently against his chest, Logan's eyes flutter closed at the touch. It's a stark contrast to the feral aggression he had been displaying just moments ago.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. It's as if the touch of your hand against his chest snaps him back to reality. He suddenly notices how hard he's been squeezing your neck, the panic in your voice, the fear in your eyes.

You gasp shakily, head falling to his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. Your hand falls from his wrist, fingertips trailing down his arm. Your head falling on his shoulder and your hand trailing down his arm makes him shiver slightly. He releases his grip on your neck, his hand coming up to gently cup the back of your head.

He can feel your panicked breaths against his chest, the way you're trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," he gruffly whispers, his voice rough with guilt.

You back away from him quietly, your back hitting the door frame as you try to sneak out of the room. Logan's eyes narrow, his senses immediately picking up on your movement. Without warning, he catches your wrist, pulling you back toward him.

He cages you in against the door frame, his body pressed against yours, preventing your escape. "Where do you think you're going, darlin'?"

Your lip quivers as you gaze up at him, unable to form a sentence as he towers over you. Logan's eyes narrow as he notices the fear in your expression. He takes a step closer, his muscular form still keeping you pinned between him and the door frame.

He's close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. He reaches up, gently running a finger along the bruise on your neck, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I'm sorry..." he mutters softly.

Your head leans back in response to his touch, your body relaxing at his apology, a soft noise escaping your parted lips as he runs his finger over the mark. Hearing the soft noise that escapes your lips, Logan's body tenses momentarily. His eyes flutter over your form for a moment, taking in your reaction to his touch.

His fingers continue to gently brush against the mark he left on your neck, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man with such power at his fingertips. "Did I hurt you?" he asks gruffly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Only a little,” you whisper a soft lie, chest rising and falling rapidly at his proximity, his strong touch sending shivers down your spine. Logan's eyes narrow at your response, clearly hearing the lie in your voice. He leans closer, his face only a few inches away from yours. His breath brushes against your cheek as he speaks in a low growl.

"I can smell it when you lie," he says, his eyes locked on yours. His hand moves from your neck to your chin, tilting your head up slightly so that you are forced to maintain eye contact.

Your eyes widen in confusion. “Smell it?” you question him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist lightly.  A sly smirk appears on Logan's face as he notices the confusion in your eyes. He takes another step closer, his body now flush against yours, pinning you against the door frame.

His other hand comes up to rest against the frame next to your head, his muscular arms caging you in. He leans forward ever so slightly, his lips hovering near your ear as he speaks in a low growl. "I have heightened senses, darlin'. I can smell your fear, your excitement...everything," he explains huskily.

You bite down on your lip, suppressing a quiet moan as his body presses into you. “Everything?” your voice is a soft whisper as his hand trails down from your neck, brushing over your collarbone. Desire coursing through you at his warm and gentle touch. 

Logan's smirk deepens as he hears the faint moan you try to suppress, his keen senses picking up on every little sound you make. His hand continues to trail down your body, tracing a path along your collarbone and down to your hip.

"Everything." he confirms in a low growl. "I can smell your skin, your hair, the way your heart is racing in your chest." He presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he continues. "I can smell your arousal, darlin'...."

Your head falls back against the wall as a strangled gasp escapes your mouth. Hands pressing into his abdomen as you try to add a slight distance between you. 

Logan lets out a low chuckle as he feels your hands attempting to push him away, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he leans into you even more, his hips pressing against yours.

"Trying to keep me at bay, darlin'?" he husks, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear. His hand on your hip moves lower, his fingers tracing light circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"But I can smell how much you're enjoying this...." He murmurs, his voice low and roughen "And you can't hide it from me..."

“Logan..” you practically moan his name, heat building in your stomach as his fingers explore your body. Hearing his name fall from your lips in a moan makes a primal possessiveness grow within him. He can feel your body responding to his touch, the heat building in your stomach, the desire.

He leans his head down, his lips brushing against the sensitive flesh of your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses as he continues to speak. "You sound pretty when you say my name like that," he growls against your skin.

His lips brush over your bruised skin, his kisses feeling like a warm apology. “We..” you begin, voice shaky and full of desperation. “We shouldn’t..” you gasp out, biting back a moan. 

Logan's lips pause for a moment against your skin, his tongue darting out to taste the saltiness. He can smell the heat coming off you, the desperation in your voice, and the conflicting emotions that are swirling within you.

He pulls away slightly, his lips moving to the edge of the bruise he left on your neck. "We shouldn't?" he repeats, his breath hot against your ear. He nips at your earlobe before continuing. "Why not, darlin'?"

Your fingers brush over his bare abs, eyes squeezing shut. “Not here..,” you murmur, “Somewhere more private..” Logan's breath hitches as he feels your fingers against his bare skin, his muscles tensing under your touch. A primal possessiveness floods his senses, the need to claim you, to have you all to himself.

He leans his head back, his eyes dark with hunger as he looks at you. "Somewhere more private, huh?" he growls in a low, rough voice. "Somewhere where I can have you all to myself..."

You nod, peeking one eye open to look at his lust filled gaze. Logan can practically taste your desire on his tongue, the smell of your arousal filling his senses. He leans farther into you, his body pressing firmly against yours, his muscles tensing as he tries to keep his own desires in check.

"Then let's go, darlin'. Somewhere we can be alone," he growls, his hand gripping your hip possessively as he begins to lead you out of the room. You pull him in the direction of your room, his fingers pressing into your hip more roughly as you step inside. 

As soon as you step into your room, the door closing behind you, the scent of your perfume and the unique scent that is distinctly yours hits Logan's senses like a freight train. He takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he inhales the scent, his eyes darkening even more.

He locks the door behind him, his instincts flaring at the knowledge that you are alone with him, in your private space. You turn to face him, gulping as you take in his strong muscles, eyes lingering on his growing erection. 

Logan watches your gaze roam over his body, his muscles tensing under your scrutiny. He can see the way your eyes linger on his growing erection, the hunger in your expression, and it makes a feral, possessive growl rumble deep in his chest.

He closes the distance between you in a few strides, his body pressing against yours as he pins you against the wall once more. His hands come up to rest on either side of your head, caging you in.

"Like what you see, darlin'?" he growls, his voice low and hoarse. You respond with a hungry kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

Logan lets out a low growl as you kiss him, his body responding immediately to your touch. He deepens the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you.

His hands move to your hips, gripping them forcefully as he presses you against the wall, his erection pressing against you. He breaks the kiss to murmur against your skin, his breath hot against your ear.

"You taste so good, darlin'..." you moan, hands going to his pants as you pull his hips against yours. 

Logan's chest rumbles with a deep growl as you pull his hips against yours, his erection rubbing against your core, the thin fabric of both of your clothes the only thing separating you.

His hands grip your hips roughly, his fingers digging into your skin. "You're driving me crazy, darlin'," he groans, his voice low and rough with desire. "I want to touch you...everywhere."

“Then touch me,” you bite down on your lip, gazing up at him with eyes dark with desire. 

Logan's eyes darken at your words, a feral, primal hunger taking over at the sight of your lustful gaze. He leans down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands moving over your body, roaming and exploring every inch of you.

His hands slide up your sides, bunching up your clothes as they go. He breaks the kiss to pull the fabric over your head, tossing it to the side, his eyes raking over your naked form.

You subconsciously cover your body with your hands, hiding your bare skin from his piercing stare. Logan notices the way you instinctively try to hide your body from him, a deep frown appearing on his face. He moves a step closer, his hand gently taking hold of your wrists, gently but firmly moving them away from your body.

His eyes roam over your naked form, his gaze taking in every curve, every inch of skin, his own desire making him ache.

"Don't hide from me, darlin'," he growls, his voice a rough whisper. "You're beautiful, and I want to see you." you throw your head back on the wall as he cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

A needy moan leaves your swollen lips, your legs spreading as he presses his knee between them. He presses his knee against your clit, the rough fabric of his pants providing just enough friction to make you gasp. 

The pressure builds as he rhythmically rubs into your sensitive point, his fingers continuing to toy with your hardened nipple. Your body arches into his touch, a silent plea for more, as his lips trace a path down your neck to your chest. His tongue darts out, tasting the salty sweetness of your skin, his teeth grazing over your collarbone, making you quiver. 

The combination of pain and pleasure sends a jolt through your core, making you wetter, more desperate for his touch. His breathing is ragged, his control slipping as he feels your heat through his pants, your body begging for his attention. 

As your hips buck against his knee, your hands fight against his grip, desperate to explore the hardened planes of his body. The wetness between your legs has soaked the fabric of his pants, leaving a dark stain that he can feel growing. Logan’s eyes flash with a fierce hunger as he feels the evidence of your arousal against him. 

His grip tightens on your wrists, keeping your hands pinned above your head, as he continues to tease your nipple with his free hand. His mouth moves lower, kissing and biting down your stomach, heading towards the apex of your thighs. The anticipation is agonizing as he nears your soaked panties, his hot breath ghosting over the damp fabric. 

"Please," you whimper, your body quivering with need. Logan chuckles darkly against your skin, his eyes never leaving yours as he finally gives in to your silent pleas. He drops to his knees, the sound of your gasp filling the room. 

His tongue darts out, tasting you, making you moan out loud as he begins to explore your most sensitive areas with a fervent passion that steals your breath away. His hand still holds yours above your head, his other guiding your hips, urging you to grind against his face, to give him all the sweetness you have to offer. 

Your legs wobble as you try to stay upright, your orgasm building with every stroke of his tongue, your need for him becoming unbearable.

With a fierce determination, Logan positions himself under your hips, releasing your wrists and replacing his grip with one that digs into your hip bones. His lips are ravenous as they devour the sweetness of your sex, his tongue flicking and swirling with a skill that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you. 

You moan loudly, your body instinctively grinding against his mouth as he teases and tastes you with an intensity that makes your legs tremble. Your nails dig into his broad shoulders for support as you try to keep yourself upright, the sensations threatening to overwhelm you. 

The room fills with the sounds of your desperate cries and his hungry growls, each stroke of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel his breath, hot and ragged, against your sweaty skin, the vibrations of his voice echoing through your core as he murmurs his enjoyment. 

The world outside the room fades away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable passion that burns between you, the intensity of his mouth on your most sensitive spot making you feel as if you could shatter at any moment.

With a cry of pure ecstasy, you cum into his mouth, your body trembling violently as the most intense orgasm of your life takes over. Logan groans with satisfaction as he hungrily laps up your sweet release, his tongue never leaving your sensitive clit as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks. 

His grip on your hips tightens, keeping you in place as he drinks from your well, savoring every drop of your pleasure. You're a mess of sensations, your legs shaking and your chest heaving with each ragged breath. 

The room spins around you as the orgasm subsides, leaving you a trembling mess against the wall, clinging to Logan's shoulders for support. His eyes, filled with a feral hunger, meet yours as he pulls away, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

With surprising gentleness, Logan pulls you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he lays you down. You're still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm, your body feeling both sated and desperate for more. He asks, "Can you handle another round, darlin'?" His voice is deep and gruff, the hunger in his eyes undeniable. 

You nod, your body already responding to the promise in his words. He kisses down your body, his teeth nipping at your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When he reaches your thighs, he spreads them wide, his strong hands holding you open as if you were a delicate treasure he's about to claim. 

His mouth finds your core again, his tongue sweeping over your folds, teasing and tasting you with a newfound enthusiasm. His kisses are feverish, his breath hot and demanding as he worships your body, his hands moving to grip your hips, keeping you in place for his pleasure. 

Your legs wrap around his shoulders, urging him closer, as he dives back into the sweet oblivion of your desire. The sensation of his mouth on you is exquisite, sending waves of pleasure that make you arch off the bed. 

His touch is both gentle and commanding, a perfect blend of rough and tender that sets your body alight with need. As he kisses and sucks, his thumb circles your clit, the dual sensations pushing you towards another shattering climax. 

You can feel your muscles tightening around his tongue, the tension building with every touch, every flick of his skilled tongue. You moan his name, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself get lost in the feeling, your body aching for more of him, all of him. 

Logan's growl of satisfaction vibrates through you, the sound of his hunger for you echoing through the room, driving you closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

With a sudden jolt of overwhelming pleasure, you try to pull away, the sensations too intense for you to handle, but Logan's grip on your hips is unyielding. His mouth remains locked onto your core, his tongue working tirelessly, as if he can't get enough of your sweetness. 

"Too much," you gasp, your body quivering uncontrollably under his relentless ministrations. He looks up at you, his eyes dark and filled with a primal need, and you see the hunger in his gaze, the animalistic desire to claim you completely. 

He doesn't stop, though, instead his movements become more urgent, his tongue more insistent, as if he's trying to consume every part of you. You beg for mercy, but the only response you get is a deep, rumbling growl from his chest, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he continues to feast on you. 

Your body arches off the bed, your legs tightening around his neck as the orgasm builds, a crescendo of pleasure that seems to have no end in sight. Logan's touch is like fire, burning through any shred of resistance you might have had, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him, desperate for release. 

His name falls from your lips in a breathless chant, a plea for him to either stop or take you over the edge, but he shows no signs of relenting. You're lost in a sea of sensation, your mind hazy with need, as he continues to devour you, pushing you closer and closer to the brink of madness with every stroke of his tongue.

With a loud, desperate cry, your body shatters into a thousand pieces as you cum again, the intensity of the orgasm stealing the last of your breath. Logan's mouth remains sealed over your sex, his tongue continuing to swirl and flick with unrelenting fervor, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from your quivering form. 

Your hips pull away from his face, but his strong hands keep you anchored, refusing to let you escape the heavenly torment he's bestowed upon you. As the waves of ecstasy begin to subside, his kisses become softer, more tender, his tongue lapping up the last drops of your climax. 

He kisses a path up your stomach, your chest, and finally captures your mouth in a deep, claiming kiss, sharing the taste of your pleasure with you. Your legs fall apart, your body boneless and sated, as he rises over you, his eyes still alight with hunger and desire. 

His erection strains against his pants, a silent testament to his own need, and you know, without a doubt, that this is only the beginning of a night that will leave you both bruised, exhausted, and utterly satisfied.

With a growl of pure need, Logan slides down his pants, his rock-hard erection springing free, the tip pressing into your trembling thigh as he shifts his attention to your breasts. His kisses become more urgent, his teeth grazing over your sensitive skin as he captures one nipple in his mouth, sucking and teasing it into a taut peak. 

You arch your back, a low moan escaping your lips as he switches to the other breast, his tongue swirling around the areola before his teeth catch the sensitive bud again. The sensation sends a bolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you wetter and more desperate for him. 

His hands roam over your body, one cupping the fullness of your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple in time with his mouth, while the other slides down to stroke your clit, making your hips buck in response. The feeling of his tongue on your skin, his teeth tugging at your nipple, and his finger inside you is almost too much to bear, a symphony of pleasure that has you panting and writhing beneath him. 

Your hands reach out to grip his shoulders, urging him closer, needing more of his touch, more of his warmth. His eyes never leave yours, the hunger in them only growing as he watches the effect he has on you, his own desire reflected in the dark depths of his gaze. 

Logan's eyes never leave yours as he positions himself at your entrance, his breaths coming in harsh pants. The head of his erection nudges against your swollen clit, sending an electric jolt through your body. You gasp, your legs tightening around his waist as he presses his tip into your wetness, inch by torturous inch, stretching and filling you. 

The sensation is intense, your clit still pulsing from the recent orgasm, making every movement feel amplified. His hips rock gently, his shaft sliding deeper until he's fully sheathed within you. You whimper at the fullness, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. 

His hands move to the back of your thighs, lifting you slightly, changing the angle and causing his cock to hit that spot inside you that makes your toes curl. "Oh, Logan," you moan, your voice a desperate plea for more as he starts to move, his hips sliding in a steady rhythm that matches the beating of your heart. 

His movements are slow and deliberate, drawing out every sensation, making you feel as if you're going to combust from the inside out. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your moans and his growls of pleasure. His thrusts become more powerful, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing over you, your body desperately trying to keep up with the intensity. 

You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he fucks you with a primal need that leaves you gasping for breath, your body a taut bow of desire. His eyes never leave your face, the connection between you palpable, a silent promise of more pleasure to come.

With a fierce snarl, Logan's hips press into yours, driving his entire length deep inside you with a power that steals the breath from your lungs. He pulls almost all the way out, the drag of his shaft against your sensitive walls making you cry out, before slamming back in, filling you completely. 

His rhythm is punishing, each thrust a declaration of his desire, a promise of the climax that looms closer with every movement. Your body responds in kind, your hips rising to meet his, the friction building a delicious ache that centers in your core. 

Each pound of his hips into yours feels like a brand, marking you as his, and you revel in the feeling of belonging, the intensity of his possession. The pressure builds, your muscles tightening around him, desperately clinging to the feeling of fullness as you edge closer to the precipice of ecstasy. 

His grip on your thighs tightens, his strokes growing more forceful, the slap of his hips against yours a punctuation to the symphony of pleasure that surrounds you. Your nails dig into his back, leaving marks of your own, a silent testament to the power of your shared desire. 

The world outside this room fades away, leaving only the two of you and the fierce, unbridled passion that consumes you both, as you climb higher and higher, racing towards the peak of pleasure that promises to shatter you completely.

As you both near the edge of release, Logan's movements become more erratic, his muscles tensing and releasing with each powerful thrust. His eyes blaze with a fiery passion that's mirrored in your own gaze, your bodies moving in perfect sync. 

The room is filled with the sound of your mingled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, a testament to the raw, unbridled desire that fuels your every movement. His grip on your thighs tightens, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he whispers, "Come for me, darlin'." 

The words send a shiver down your spine, your body responding to the command in his voice. You can feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling tightly in your stomach, threatening to explode at any moment. Logan's strokes become more demanding, his hips moving faster and harder, pushing you closer and closer to the brink. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure builds to an unbearable crescendo. 

With a final, guttural growl, he slams into you, hitting that perfect spot deep within, and you detonate around him, your body convulsing in waves of ecstasy. His own orgasm follows, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he releases a roar of pure satisfaction, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. 

Together, you ride out the storm of pleasure, your hearts hammering in time with each other's, your bodies entwined in a passionate embrace that leaves you both trembling and gasping for air. And in that moment, there's no doubt in your mind that you belong to him, just as much as he belongs to you, bound by a connection that transcends logic and reason, a bond forged in the heat of desire and the depths of your shared need.

As the intensity of your shared climax begins to ebb, your nails drag into his shoulders, leaving behind red marks that stand out against his tanned skin. Logan groans with satisfaction, his body still quivering with the aftershocks of his release. He pulls out of you with a final, lingering stroke, his cock still hard and glistening with your arousal. 

He collapses against you, his heavy frame pinning you to the bed, nearly crushing you, his hot breath ghosting against your ear as he fights to regain his breath. The room is silent but for the harsh sounds of your mingled panting, your hearts thundering in a symphony of passion that slowly begins to settle into a steady rhythm. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, as if he can never get enough of the feel of your skin against his. 

He rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. His kisses become gentle, peppering your neck and shoulder with affectionate pecks as he whispers, "Mine," his voice a gruff rumble that sends shivers down your spine. 

You nod, too exhausted to speak, but the truth of his words resonates deep within you. In this moment, you are irrevocably his, bound by a passion that seems to have no end. 

As your breathing slows and your bodies cool, you know that this is just the start of a night filled with pleasure and discovery, a night where the lines between doctor and patient, between friend and lover, will be forever blurred.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hello! I had an idea for a Logan x reader where every time he makes a self deprecating comment/joke or something sad she hugs him. Eventually he starts doing it on purpose in front of her because he knows he’ll get a hug! She’s none the wiser and the rest of the x-men think it’s disgustingly-cute. Xx

Logan has a weird view of himself. He’s a mess, he’s a killing machine. He’s a weapon the government made and he was good at doing his work for them.

Then he’d left, joined the X-Men but that guilt, that hatred of himself for the decades he’d spent consumed in violence, it never went away.

“I’m not a good man,” he’d told you variations of this before and every single time you’d just kiss his face, give him a hug and tell him, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Logan. Doesn’t change what I see.”

It happened slowly and unconsciously at first, Logan would say something demeaning about himself and you’d tsk and give him a tight hug.

Now, Logan hardly believed any of the bullshit he said about himself, but he loved your arms around him when he said something deprecating.

It didn’t matter if you were with Ororo or Scott or anyone else, you’d just always wrap your arms around him and give him a little kiss at his temple.

“I think you’re putting too much faith in me, Storm. I’m a liability more than I am helpful.” Ororo rolls her eyes.

“You know that’s not true-“ your knock on the door cuts her off, your head peeking in with a smile.

“Hey Ororo, Scott’s looking for you. Got his mind all messed about some teaching thing.”

Logan keeps going, “You know I’m right. I’m also not as sharp as I used to be. I’d be useless.”

Your smile fades away and Ororo smirks as you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Logan melts into you and Ororo wishes she’d had a camera to capture the way you dote on Logan and the way he leans into it.

“Stop talking about yourself like that, James. I don’t like to hear it.”

He nods, leaning his head back on your shoulder to kiss below your jaw.

“I’ll go check on Scott. Logan, think about what I’ve said please.” Ororo leaves and you kiss Logan’s forehead.

“Can we go have lunch outside? I made sandwiches and I stole some chocolate from Jean.”

Logan huffs, it’s full of adoration though. You’ve become a sort of expert in all of his huffs and grumbles. This one is a hidden chuckle. “Yeah, let’s go before the kids steal your favourite bench.”

[earlysunshines]

read your mind

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: minji nearly slices your head off upon your first meeting and it creates this weird unspoken tension that somehow draws you two closer.

warnings: wolverine!minji ; jean grey!reader ; xmen au ; blood, violence, trauma, fighting... everything that comes w x-men ; angst if u squint ; minji is still a loser in this one ; only some of this (very little) actually correlates to the x-men plot i just twisted everything LOLLL ; pacing iffy but lowk slowburn ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread!!!

a/n: had pneumonia three months ago, rewatched four x-men movies in two days, created this, ghosted, then decided to continue lololol ALSOwe’re going to ignore the fact that jean grey and scott r canon and that whole triangle bc this is MYY spinoff and MYYY fic…

minjeong and wonbin had brought in a girl, barely conscious, her body limp as they laid her on the lab table. metal blades protruded from her knuckles, glinting ominously under the fluorescent lights. as you watched, the blades retracted back into her skin, leaving behind deep cuts that healed almost instantly, the flesh knitting together as if nothing had happened.

gosh, you think, brows knitting at the sight.

you stood beside the bed, a syringe in hand, brow furrowed in concentration. the girl on the table had clearly been through hell—minjeong and wonbin had found her unconscious, battered and bruised—but the way her body had healed so rapidly, so unnaturally, left you with no choice but to sedate her. if only to prevent her from doing more harm to herself, or to others. you hesitated for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, trying to reconcile the delicate features of her face with the lethal power hidden beneath her skin. taking a deep breath, you carefully lowered the needle toward her arm.

minji’s consciousness flickered in and out, the world around her a blur of shapes and sounds that made no sense. her senses were overwhelmed—the cold touch of metal on her forearm, the sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic filling her nose. her muscles tensed, every fiber of her being screaming at her to fight, to protect herself, even as her mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.

just as the needle grazed her skin, minji's eyes snapped open, wild and feral. in an instant, her hand shot out, gripping your wrist with a force that made you gasp, pain shooting up your arm. the syringe slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor, forgotten as you were yanked forward.

before you could react, minji had you restrained, her arm across your neck, cutting off your air. she pulled you close, her breath hot against your ear, the pressure of her forearm against your throat tightening as the blades from her knuckles sprang out again, glinting dangerously in the corner of your vision. they were mere millimeters from your neck, close enough that you could feel the cold metal against your skin, close enough that you dared not move.

her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving as she held you against her, her eyes wide and unfocused, caught somewhere between fear and anger. she didn't speak, but the threat was clear in the way her muscles coiled, ready to strike. every instinct in your body screamed at you to struggle, to get free, but the sharpness of the blades against your throat kept you frozen in place.

“who the hell are you and where the hell am i?”

you look terrified for a moment, only a second or two before you adapt to the situation, tensing when the blades press more. 

“maybe if you get your goddamn knives away from my throat, then i’d tell you.” minji hears, but the thing is, you haven’t opened your mouth at all.

she looks at you close, hearing the choked-out breath before letting go of you completely. you fall to the ground and cough out as she runs off, catching your breath.

minji has no idea where she is. she’s run out the room, but where exactly? she doesn’t know. the place is too bright, the lights glaring down at her from the ceiling. the halls are empty, eerily so, with a cold, metallic sheen to everything around her. it feels sterile, lifeless, like a lab from some dystopian nightmare. 

she looks down and realizes she’s only in a sports bra and sweats, her skin prickling at the chill in the air. small tabs are stuck to her body, wires hanging from them. without thinking, she rips them off, the adhesive pulling at her skin but she doesn’t care. she’s more focused on figuring out where she is, what’s happened to her.

scanning her surroundings, minji’s eyes dart around frantically. she spots something in the distance—suits, like the kind you’d see in a high-tech facility, lined up behind glass. her heart pounds in her chest as she walks cautiously toward them, every nerve in her body on edge. as she moves, something catches her eye—a little shelf with a zip-up hoodie on it. she snatches it up, slipping it on quickly, desperate to cover herself, to feel even a little bit more secure.

she continues down the hall, her eyes flicking from side to side, taking in every detail of this strange, sterile place. the walls, the floors, even the ceiling—all the same dull metallic gray, reflecting the harsh light in a way that makes everything seem flat and lifeless.

“where are you going?” a voice suddenly asks, cutting through the silence—a different one this time. minji flinches, her breath catching in her throat. she doesn’t recognize the voice, and it sends a jolt of fear through her. without thinking, she retreats deeper into the corridor, ducking behind a small entrance area, peeking out cautiously to see if anyone’s coming. 

her heart races, the fear pounding in her ears as she scans the hall, but it’s empty. no sign of anyone. she’s about to move again when a door behind her slides open with a soft hiss. she jumps, spinning around just in time to hear a faint voice:

 “over here!” 

minji hesitates, then steps toward the open door, curiosity and fear at war within her. she peers into the small space beyond, a strange room she doesn’t recognize. it’s not much, just a small chamber, but something about it feels… inviting. cautiously, she steps inside, and the door closes behind her with a soft click. 

when the door opens again, minji steps out, and the environment has completely changed. she’s no longer in the cold, metallic hallway. instead, she’s in what looks like an old mansion, the kind you’d see in old movies, all dark wood and faded carpets, and the air thick with the scent of old books and polished wood.

“where are you going? over here…” the voice whispers again, closer this time. minji’s fear spikes. she looks around, eyes wide, trying to find the source of the voice, but there’s no one. she bolts, running down the hall, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she searches for a place to hide. she hears voices up ahead, the excited chatter of children, and she panics, diving behind a wooden pillar to avoid being seen. 

her breathing is heavy, her body trembling as she presses herself against the wood, praying they don’t find her. she peeks out from behind the pillar, watching the group of kids pass by, their voices growing fainter as they move further down the hall. when she’s sure the coast is clear, she darts out from her hiding spot, sprinting down the hall toward a door in the distance.

her heart hammers in her chest as she reaches the door, yanking it open and slipping inside without a second thought. she turns, pressing her back against the door, her breath coming in short, frantic bursts as she listens for any sign that she’s been followed. 

it’s only when she finally looks up that she realizes where she’s ended up: in a small classroom, the kind you’d see in an old boarding school. a few students—eight or so—are seated at desks, their attention fixed on a teacher at the front of the room. the teacher pauses mid-sentence, turning to look at her with mild surprise.

minji freezes, her heart skipping a beat as every pair of eyes in the room turns to her. she stands there, caught, her mind racing as she tries to figure out what to do next. she has no idea where she is, who these people are, or how she’s going to get out of here, but one thing’s for sure—she needs to move, fast.

“ah, minji.” the teacher says, “right, please have your homework done by tomorrow. please determine the velocities using the problems in the textbook, see you all tomorrow.”

minji watches the students leave, one of them catching her off guard, walking through the door as it closes before she can make it. she looks back at the teacher—the professor, eyes slightly widened.

“where am i?” she asks demandingly.

“two hours from seoul.”

“what am i doing here?”

he stares at minji, seemingly examining her before she hears the door behind her opening, snapping her head to see two unfamiliar faces.

“minji, i’d like you to meet minjeong—also known as storm.” the professor’s voice is calm and authoritative, drawing minji’s attention to the girl standing a few steps away. minji’s eyes narrow slightly as she takes in the girl’s striking white hair, so stark against her youthful features. there’s something powerful about her, something that makes minji’s instincts prickle, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches her closely.

“and this is wonbin, also called cyclops.” the professor continues, gesturing to the guy next to minjeong. wonbin steps forward, extending a hand toward minji, his expression friendly, if a bit cautious. the red lenses of his glasses catch the light, a faint glow emanating from behind them.

minji stares at his hand, her gaze cold, unblinking. she doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge the gesture. there’s a tense silence as the seconds stretch on, minji’s eyes flicking up to meet wonbin’s. her jaw tightens, a muscle jumping in her cheek as she clenches it. wonbin hesitates, then slowly lowers his hand, understanding that the handshake isn’t going to happen. he scoffs under his breath—minji hears it.

“they saved your life, you know?” the professor’s voice cuts through the silence, his tone gentle but firm. he looks at minji, as if willing her to understand, to see the gravity of the situation. but minji doesn’t respond, her expression hard, unreadable.

just then, the door opens, and someone else walks in. minji’s eyes flicker over, her features softening just slightly at the sight of you. you move quietly but confidently, your expression calm, composed, not betraying any of the distress or turmoil that might be lurking underneath your skin. minji’s gaze follows you as you pass by her, her attention completely captured, like you’re the only thing in the room worth noticing or thinking twice about.

you don’t say anything, don’t even glance her way, but minji can’t take her eyes off you, something about you making the tension in her shoulders ease, if only by a fraction. as you turn around, she takes in your features, soft and delicate, yet there’s a strength there too, something in the way you carry yourself. it’s captivating, almost disarming, and for a moment, minji forgets to be on guard.

“this is y/n,” the professor says, breaking the spell. “i believe you two have already met.”

minji’s gaze remains fixed on you, her thoughts racing, trying to piece together how she knows you. then it hits her, you’re the person she almost sliced earlier.

“right, y/n, if you could get her situated into one of the spare rooms for me.”

you make direct eye contact with minji, jaw tightening before you smile softly at the professor. 

“of course.”

–

“i think you’ll find it comfortable here,” you say softly, turning on the lamp. 

minji observes closely, looking around the room quickly before her eyes redirect back onto you as you turn on another lamp.

“where’s your room?”

“down the hall with wonbin.”

“four eyes?” she questions rudely. “is he always so… petty.”

you turn around, looking at her and raising a brow. 

“how judgy you’ve only just met him…” you start, turning on the last lamp. “he’s just not willing to put up with people who don’t greet him properly—people who nearly slice someone’s head off.” you add calmly, tightening your jaw.

“i wasn’t going to cut your head off.”

“with the way your blades were against my neck? i figured that would’ve been my last breath.” you scold, meeting her eyes coldly. 

minji stiffens, breaking the eye contact and looking down.

“are you always so… dense?” you ask minji, tilting your head slightly, a hint of challenge in your voice. minji stiffens, the doors behind her clicking shut on their own, the sound sharp in the tense silence. her eyes widen as she looks at you, caught off guard, claws out without thinking.

“did you do tha—”

“or are you still shaken up from being knocked out by jyp’s men?” you continue, your tone casual, but the words strike a nerve. you glance at her blades, the same ones from earlier. “gonna slice me for real this time?”

“i’m sorry?” minji’s voice is laced with confusion as her claws retract. her brow furrows as she tries to make sense of what you’re saying.

“people like us,” you say, your voice dropping into something more serious. “a lot of people aren’t fond of the gifts we have. and hearing about the way they reacted to your claws… they’re definitely more hostile to what you’re capable of.”

minji’s eyes narrow, her mind racing as she processes your words. “and what’s your gift?” she asks, a trace of skepticism in her voice. “you can move things with your mind?”

“you’re observant,” you reply, a touch of sarcasm coloring your tone. “you’re right on that. i also have telepathic ability.”

minji raises an eyebrow, the tension between you crackling like fireworks. “like the professor? you can get into my head or something?” she steps closer, almost sizing you up despite being only two or three centimeters taller.

“you say that like i’d willingly get into yours.” you reply sharply, your voice steady, but there’s a flicker of something in your eyes—hesitation, perhaps, or uncertainty. “like there’s even anything in a brain so hollow.”

“what, scared?” minji questions, her voice low, daring. she huffs, amused, “are you even able to?”

“what?” you blink, taken aback by her sudden boldness. after what happened earlier, you’d expect her to keep her distance, but here she is, practically taunting you, her lips curling into a slight smirk that sends your heart skipping a beat. there’s something about her—something infuriatingly compelling as much as she is irritating—that makes you sigh in defeat, unable to resist the pull of her challenge.

“i can do things that you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend,” you look down at her necklace, reading the characters out loud, “minji.”

her eyes narrow, and yours do too before they soften just barely.

with a reluctant exhale, you raise your hands beside her head, your fingers hovering hairs away from her temples. closing your eyes, you focus, the world around you fading into the background as you reach out with your mind, slipping past the surface of her thoughts. 

minji watches you intently, her eyes fixed on your face as she listens to your steady breathing, notices the slight tremor in your hands. as you delve deeper into her mind, your expression shifts, your brows drawing together as you begin to see what lies beneath the surface.

suddenly, your eyes snap open, shock flooding your features. you stare at her, wide-eyed, your breath catching in your throat as you struggle to process what you’ve just seen.

“what did you see?” minji’s voice is quieter now, the cockiness replaced by something more subdued, almost vulnerable. she holds your hands, looking at you expectantly.

you hesitate, the images still flashing through your mind—minji being beaten, restrained, shot, stabbed, over and over again. the pain, the fear, the relentless violence—it’s overwhelming, a flood of horror that you can barely comprehend. and yet, you’ve only had a brief glimpse, a fraction of it, a sliver of what she’s been through.

“i saw… a lot,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. there’s no need to elaborate—minji can see it in your eyes, the weight of what you’ve witnessed, the gravity of the memories that haunt her. and for a moment, the space between you feels more like a shared burden, there’s a quiet understanding of the scars that neither of you can ever truly erase.

the door opens and you look over to see wonbin looking at the two of you, minji’s still holding your hands—you shake them off quickly as if they’re molten lava.

“wonbin.” you sound surprised as you catch his pursed smile. you avoid minji’s eye contact, keeping your eyes away from her. “goodnight, minji.” you add finally, glancing at her once more before leaving the room. 

minji turns to catch wonbin looking at her intensely, making her smirk subtly. her claws extend out of her knuckles slowly again, voluntartbis time. her eyes drill into his.

“scared of me near her?”

“not at all.” he responds, “just looking out for her.”

“right.”

“she’s been through a lot, it seems like you’ve shaken her up more than before. you nearly sliced her head off.”

minji gulps, claws retracting. “i didn’t— i wasn’t going to.”

“right.” wonbin says unconvincingly. he looks at minji closely before letting out a small sigh. “keep your distance from my sister. keep your claws away. you’re dangerous, you know?”

“sister?” minji questions, and wonbin shakes his head at the fact that it’s the only part of his response that she listened to.

“don’t get too close, minji.” wonbin steps forward, tensing his jaw as he looks down. “you’ll see what happens when i take off these glasses.”

—

it seems like you’re drowning, with your senses overwhelmed by freezing cold water. 

opening your eyes stings you, you can’t even see through the blur of the water. your limbs feel heavy and your chest is tightening up by the second.you’re submerged, trapped in some suffocating abyss, and something sharp pierces through the murk—at least from what you can see. 

long, gleaming needles approach, their edges catching a flicker of light and it all becomes much more terrifying—they’re heading straight for you. 

you try to scream, but the water swallows it, muting your fear. the needles dig into your skin, injecting something searing and molten. you feel another sharp pain coming from your knuckles, and when you look down your eyes widen—there are claws coming out of your skin, slicing right through it. and then, just to make everything worse, the burn from whatever had been injected starts to spread through you like a wildfire, almost as if your bones were in flames. 

oddly enough, you can’t seem to use your powers. it’s almost as if they never existed. the pain consumes every nerve, and the pain—it’s unbearable. your body twitches, jerks, and convulses, but there’s no escape. 

and then the burn reaches your core. it feels like you might explode in seconds.

…

you sit upright, gasping for air, sweat dripping down your face. your chest heaves like you’ve just surfaced from drawing, and your vision is all blurry, the room darker than you could process.

“y/n! y/n, hey—look at me,” wonbin’s voice is urgent, his hands gripping your shoulders. he’s shaking you lightly, trying to break you out from whatever frantic episode you’re in. “it’s okay, i’m here. talk to me.”

as you blink, your breath slows, your mind racing to piece everything back together. “i-i’m fine,” you mutter, voice shaky. but the pounding in your head, the ache in your chest—it contradicts your response.

the sound of murmurs reaches your ears; hushed whispers, footsteps, and a few shadows catch your eye. you turn towards the door to glance at all the students—wide-eyed, worried, confused. they’re lingering, peering into your room—afraid to step closer.

wonbin’s features furrow, you can just barely see the flurry of emotions through his red shades. “you shook the whole house,” he says, his voice lower now but still laced with tension. “everyone felt it.”

you breathe out shakily, rubbing your face in your hands. shaking your head, you then wipe the sweat from your face with the back of your hand. “it’s nothing,” you lie, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. 

but then, out of the corner of your eye, you see her—minji. she’s standing in the doorway, not quite inside but not leaving either. she’s much bolder than the rest, clear in your vision rather than just a forehead and eyes. her eyes are locked on you, dark and intense, like she’s searching for something beneath your carefully composed exterior. there’s something else there too. care. concern. maybe even fear. 

her gaze is scrutinizing.

your breath catches, and for a moment, you can’t look away. her gaze feels like it’s pulling you apart—slow and grueling—like she can see through you. 

“y/n?” wonbin’s voice brings you back, he brings his hands over to your shoulders and you turn to face him. his eyes are glossed with worry, brows upturned just a bit. 

“it’s fine, i’m fine.” you repeat, more firmly this time, brushing him off as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. “i just need some fresh air.”

he second guesses, watching you closely. you can tell he doesn’t believe you for a second, but he doesn’t push. instead, he glances toward the door, toward minji. when you follow his gaze, she’s still there, still observing.

you stand and gulp, ignoring the weight of her stare—everyone’s stare. you walk past without a word, trailing down the hallway as its cool air hits your skin. despite the chill in the air, heat still courses through you. the memory of the dream, of the fire, of minji’s eyes—it all lingers, and you can’t shake it.

you step outside, only clad in a t-shirt and pajama pants, so the wind sends a shiver down your spine.

making your way down the stone steps, you catch the pond in the distance, rushing over as you try to compose yourself fully. then you sit down on the bench, staring out into the water that’s illuminated by the moon and lamps nearby. 

a short breath escapes you, you cling onto the edge of the bench.

the dream was so surreal, so vivid, so much pain, so much terror—and the fact that it’s all a memory from minji leaves you uneasy.

when you read her mind, the scenes went by in a flash, but each one still gave you goosebumps. it was bad enough as is, just getting quick glimpses, but the dream made you relive it—though just briefly. it made your eyes shut, trying to bury everything; how could someone go through all of that?

you lean forward, elbows on your knees, trying to steady your breathing as it grows heavy again. the dream—no, the nightmare—still clings to you, wrapping around your chest and taking your breath away. your hands shake, but you close them shut in an attempt to hide the tremor, even though no one’s around to see it.

at least, that’s what you think.

then you feel it—a presence. familiar, unsettling. your powers react before you can think, a rough, fist-sized rock lifting from the ground, hovering midair. it glides quickly, stopping a breath away from its target.

minji freezes, her eyes flickering to the rock floating just beside her head. “seriously?” she says, voice low but sharp—almost wary too.

you let out a heavy breath, the rock clattering to the ground as you force it down. “sorry,” you mutter, barely glancing at her.

she sits down anyway, keeping a noticeable distance between you. her posture is calm, her hands resting on her thighs, but you can feel the tension radiating off her. it mirrors your own. neither of you says anything at first, the silence filled only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of a cricket. 

“you scared me,” she says eventually, her voice softer now, almost reluctant. “when the house shook, i didn’t know what was going on. everyone ran in one direction, i followed, and then… i realized it was you.”

you glance at her, then back at the water, the reflection of the stars shimmering on its surface. “yeah, well. wasn’t exactly intentional.”

her eyes linger on you for a moment before she looks away, exhaling slowly. “i didn’t know you could do all of that. i didn’t know you could be so… vulnerable, i guess.” 

the words hit harder than they should, and you can’t decide if it’s an insult or something else. either way, you don’t respond. instead, you take a breath, forcing yourself to ask what’s been bothering you since you woke up. “the dream. the memory,” you begin, hesitant. “i saw you in it. kind of. do you, do you remember?”

“remember what?”

you rub your face with your hands, then relax against the bench as you stare up into the sky now. “needles, pain, water, burning in your bones…”

her brows furrow, and she shakes her head. “i— i wish i could. it’s all… bits and pieces. blurry. i can’t recall…”

you nod, but something about her answer stings. how could someone simply forget something like that? you don’t know how. you’re not sure you want to. 

“must be hard,” you say quietly, more to yourself than her.

“yeah,” she responds, equally quiet. her voice lacks the sharpness it usually holds when she talks to you. instead, there’s something almost vulnerable about it.

the tension between you both feels lighter now, less suffocating. it’s not gone, but it’s better. manageable. 

the distance between you stays as you sit in silence again, staring out at the water. it’s strange, the sudden wall that crumbled between you two. being with her is uncomfortable but not unwelcome. maybe it’s progress. maybe it’s just exhaustion. maybe you two just had a rough start.

“you almost killed me with that rock, you know,” minji says suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“you’d recover in a second,” you huff a dry laugh, the corner of your lip tugging just barely. “besides, you almost sliced my head off yesterday. i think we’re even.”

“doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt…” she argues lightly, and for the first time, you catch a hint of a smile. it’s faint, and fleeting, but it’s there. you don’t know what to make of it, but you let it sit between you, like the space you’re both finally starting to bridge.

you huff again, rubbing your eyes as you stand.

“i’m going back to bed.” you announce quietly, brow twitching as you observe her. she’s still staring out, but offers you a gentle nod.

—

two weeks into her new place of stay, she relearns that the whole world is out for her. 

mutants, as they say. the claws that strike out her knuckles indicate that she falls into this category. 

if you’re different from the average human, and not just some simple difference, something that makes you dangerous—being able to shoot lasers from your eyes, move things with your mind, change the weather in seconds—that’s what a mutant is. 

she’s already well aware of this, but after two weeks of being enrolled in some ‘mutant’ academy, she’s forced to know it down to the bone. this means she’s reading textbooks, watching documentaries, and even sitting through lectures; she never signed up for any of this.

though two more weeks—a month now—into being at the academy, things are much… different. the sharp edges of that initial hostility have dulled, but they’re not gone. and the other students don’t treat her like an outcast (as if they weren’t ones themselves), instead, she’s accustomed to everything. 

she still has that cocky edge, the attitude that makes you roll your eyes on instinct, but there’s something else too. a steadiness. she’s settled, not entirely comfortably but not bristling like she was in the beginning. most of this is the result of her spending one-on-one time with the professor, getting to know him for who he is and surprisingly growing quite fond of him. he’s the only person who’s shown so much devotion to someone like her after all.

you see her often—too often, maybe. often enough to see her change. training sessions, group drills, late-night strategy meetings where everyone’s half-asleep but still pretending to listen to the mentors. you two are paired up more often than not, and while the bickering hasn’t entirely disappeared, it’s lighter now. less venom, more banter.

wonbin isn’t happy about it. every time minji’s name comes up—whether that’s during late night talks when you two can’t sleep, during meals, or even when you two are sparring—his expression hardens, his jaw sets.

“i don’t trust her,” he says one evening, standing in the kitchen while you grab a bottle of water. he leans against the counter, arms crossed, looking every bit of the overprotective sibling. 

he’s not your actual brother, but when two orphans grow up together nearly tied to the hip—he might as well be. he’s been in your life since the head professor took you in, he’s the first person you’ve let in your life. you know him like the back of your palm, love him like you two share blood.

“you don’t trust anyone,” you reply, taking a sip. “except minjeong, maybe.”

“i do have some trust for others. not including that girl with the claws.” he shoots back, his tone pointed. “she nearly killed you. i still think about the camera footage here and there. my sister, three blades held against her throat.”

you sigh, setting the bottle down with a little more force than necessary. “it was an accident, wonbin. and it’s been a month. she was new… woke up in a lab, and was scared. it’s reasonable for her to almost kill me, i mean, who knows what she’s been through? maybe you should let it go.”

he glares at you, but there’s worry in his look that’s buried beneath the annoyance. “just… be careful, okay?”

you don’t answer. instead, you grab the bottle and head out, needing to clear your head.

—

a day passes, it’s three in the afternoon and minji is dodging a sharp jab near her ribs from you. she swings back and her thumb just barely grazes your ear, making you back up just a bit. 

it’s empty in the training room, each sound and movement apparent to both of you. you circle each other on the mat, it’s a routine now—intense, focused, and a little too competitive to be entirely practice.

she moves again, quick and calculated, aiming low with a sweep kick. you dodge once more, your body twisting fluidly as you counter with a strike that she deflects easily. her smirk is there, keen and familiar, and it drives you to wipe it right off.

but she’s good—too good sometimes for someone who’s been at the school for just over a month—which is why you’re often sparring with her or wonbin, two of few who match your level.  every step, every move, feels like a challenge, a reminder that she’s no ordinary opponent.

until she slips.

or maybe you just catch her off guard, but your hit lands square in her back, sending her stumbling forward and down onto the mat. she groans, rolling onto her side, shooting you a glare that’s more annoyed than angry.

“lucky shot,” she mutters, pushing herself up to sit.

you hold out a hand, and after a moment, she takes it, letting you pull her to her feet. “you’re slacking,” you tease, using your power to grab a towel from the bench and make it float toward her.

she huffs, grabs the towel in the air, wipes the sweat off her forehead, then smirks. something about it is weirdly infatuating. you blink—why would you think that?

“keep dreaming.” she scoffs.

the session winds down after that, both of you cooling off in the aftermath. she sits cross-legged on the edge of the mat, and you drop down a few feet away, chugging water from your bottle.

“your brother hates me,” she says suddenly, her tone casual but mordant like she’s been holding it in.

you pause mid-sip, lowering the bottle to look at her. “he doesn’t hate you,” you say, though the words feel repetitive, like you’re defending him more for the sake of it than anything else.

she raises an eyebrow, her expression incredulous. “oh, come on. he looks at me like i’m one bad day away from murdering everyone in this place.”

her response makes your lips twitch into something near a frown. “okay, so he’s… wary. wonbin is like that.”

“wary?” she echoes, laughing lightly as she leans back on her hands. her shirt tightens around her torso and it doesn’t go unnoticed. you glance back at her lips as she adds, “that’s a nice way to put it.”

her gaze shifts, her usual sharpness softening into something more thoughtful. “i don’t blame him, though. i mean… i didn’t exactly make the best first impression.”

you shrug, mirroring her stance and leaning on your hands as well. “wonbin’s protective. it’s his thing. give it time.”

“time doesn’t fix everything.” she says so quietly that you couldn’t guess she was talking to herself.

you glance at her and she looks away. the vulnerability in her voice surprises you. it’s rare for minji to let her guard down, and you’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion from sparring or something else entirely. 

“no,” you agree softly, “but it helps.”

she looks at you then, her eyes lingering like she’s searching for something. whatever it is, she doesn’t find it—or maybe she does, because she nods slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

she stands up now, running a hand through her hair to tuck back strands that fell out her ponytail. “you’re annoyingly optimistic, you know that?”

you grin, using your power to ball up your towel in the air and fling it at her chest as you stand. she grunts and you chuckle lightly, “only for you.” 

minji softens at the response, eyes meeting your back when you turn to walk away, leaving her there just standing like an idiot. she shakes her head, rolling her eyes at you.

—

the night is quiet, the kind of stillness that makes you aware of every creak of the walls and breeze of the wind. minji’s room, dimly lit by the faint glow of the boon filtering through the blinds, feels like a cage. her breathing is uneven, her body drenched in sweat as she jolts awake, the vivid images from her nightmare still gripping her.

it was all too real, as if she were reliving the memory of her cousin getting taken away right in front of her eyes again. it’s one of the memories that isn’t vague in her mind, the most painful one that stabs her heart deeper each time she’s reminded of it.

hyein’s face lingers in her mind—fearful, pleading, and then gone. the “mutant killers,” what her and hyein used to call them, their cruel laughter, the sound of a life being taken too soon. minji grips her sheets, her claws outstretched instinctively, the pain sharp but grounding. she stares at her hands, trembling, the metallic sheen of her claws catching the faint light.

“just a dream,” she whispers to herself, though the ache in her chest tells otherwise. 

she covers her face with her hands, breathing in and out to regulate her breathing. the air in her room feels suffocating, so she swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands, still shaky. the rain pattering against the window soothes her just a bit, the steady rhythm just barely snapping her out of it. she heads for the kitchen, hoping water, a snack—really anything might wash away the lingering dread.

as she steps into the darkened room, she halds. the kitchen isn’t empty.

you’re there, sitting by the window in a wooden stool with your knees hugged against your chest. you stare out with earbuds in your ears, the wires stretching down to the phone on your table. only the light from the storm and candle on the table illuminate you, casting a slight shadow across your figure and features. minji pauses mid-step, unsure whether to stay or leave, but the slight tingle in the air—a strange pulse of energy—betrays her presence.

“it’s late.” you nearly whisper, but it’s loud in the silent area. you turn around, the slight shuffle cutting through the stillness.

minji stiffens, caught off guard. “how did you—”

you pull one earbud out as you glance over your shoulder to see her. “you’re not that subtle. plus… you’ve got that thing about you.” you rest your chin on your knee, eyes on her claws—out in the open and— “hard to miss.”

her claws retract as she moves toward the sink, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. “sorry if i uh, interrupted,” she mutters, her voice quieter than usual.

you shake your head, turning to face her fully now. “you didn’t,” you assure, gaze sharpening slightly. there’s a tension in her shoulders, and a little gleam of sweat on her forehead. “bad dream?”

she freezes mid-sip, grip tightening on the glass. “what makes you say that? are you reading my mind?”

you shake your head, then shrug. “just a feeling.”

her laugh is short and humorless—forced—as she sets the glass down, sitting in front of you. “yeah. something like that.” she doesn’t elaborate, but the weight in her voice says enough.

you don’t push; instead, letting the raindrops in the background fill the silence. it’s steady, and soothing, and for a moment, minji feels like she can breathe again. she sighs, leaning her head against the wall beside her as she looks out the window.

“you okay?” you ask finally, your tone soft but probing.

she looks at you for a split second, her walls still up but not as impenetrable as before. “i will be.” she hesitates, then adds, “it’s… an old memory. nothing i can change now.”

“i get it, it’s the same with me.”

“really?”

“it’s why i’m here instead of asleep.” you smile weakly as you mirror her posture: head against the wall and eyes on her instead of the window. “memories are tricky like that. they never really go away. always popping up in your dreams, flickering through your mind while you eat, before you sleep… the latter.”

she nods, her gaze landing on you. 

another silence settles, not as heavy this time. the rain continues falling in a rhythm, following its own dance against the glass. it’s a quiet backdrop to the unspoken understanding between you two. 

“does it hurt?” your voice breaks the quiet, low and curious, almost hesitant as if you’re asking her to reveal her darkest secret.

her brows furrow slightly, her gaze meeting yours. “does what hurt?”

“when your claws come out,” you clarify, tilting your head. your expression is unreadable but there’s genuine concern in your tone. “it looks… painful.”

minji exhales, another soft, humorless laugh escaping her lips. “always.” she lifts her hand slightly, as if to gesture toward the faint lines on her knuckles where her claws emerge. “i’ve gotten used to it, though. at least, i’ve tried to. it’s only for a second.” 

something about her tone tells you she’s lying, but you don’t pry. you frown at her response, the weight of her words sitting heavy in the air. leaning forward, you reach out, gently grabbing her hand. your thumbs brush over her knuckles, brushing over the bumps of her knuckles. her hands are warm and soft, which contrasts the nature of her mutation.

“you’re great.” you tell her, voice barely above a whisper. your gaze doesn’t waver, locked on her hand, the sincerity impossible to ignore. “you’re tough.”

minji looks way briefly when you look back up at her. her expression is caught somewhere between guarded and vulnerable. “thanks,” she murmurs. after a moment, her lips quirk into a faint smile. “you are too, you know.”

you tilt your head, the faint movement on her skin from your thumb halting. your brows knit. “me?”

“mhm,” she hums. “everyone here has been through their own thing. this place is full of… survivors. and you—” she hesitates, the faintest crack in her voice betraying her usual confidence that’s accompanied by banter and teasing. “i’m sure you’ve had your fair share.”

your weak smile mirrors hers as you nod, her words striking deeper than you’d care to admit. you don’t say anything at first, instead letting your thumb continue its slow, soothing motion across her knuckles. the movement is grounding, a small but significant gesture that seems to carry its own special weight. you can’t help but blush, unable to fight a bigger smile and admiration for minji.

“we’ve all got our… trauma.” you finally say.

“maybe,” she replies, tone lighter but still carrying a noticeable weight. “that doesn’t make us weak.”

you both fall into silence that feels less tense, more comfortable now. the rain continues to patter against the window, which offers a nice soundtrack to the moment. 

her hand shifts slightly beneath yours, her fingers curling just the tiniest bit, as if testing the waters of whatever you two have. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you feel it—and for now, it’s enough.

you hold four of minji’s fingers with your own, letting them sit gently against each other. you swallow shallowly before reaching for your earbud, putting it back on and staring out the window as something quiet plays. 

minji closes her eyes, head still against the wall as her breathing slows into a relaxed pace.

—

the day has been long, with training focused on everyone’s specific power/mutation. you, minjeong, minji, and wonbin have your own space down in the floors below, away from everyone due to the intensity of your abilities.

later on in the day everyone gathered for dinner, with you sitting next to wonbin and minji chatting here and there with minjeong in between bites. you steal glances at her, she steals glances at you. neither wonbin or minjeong let this go unnoticed. 

the dining hall is quiet after everyone is finished, the sound of chatter and dishes clinking replaced by the scrape of chairs being pushed in and the occasional clatter of plates. wonbin and minji are the last ones left, tasked with cleaning up after dinner. the air between them is tense, heavy with unspoken words.

wonbin works in silence, wiping down the long table with precision, while minji collects plates and stacks them onto a tray. the tension finally snaps when wonbin speaks, his tone low and clipped.”

“i don’t know what your deal is, but i’m watching you,” he says suddenly, not looking at her. 

minji freezes for a moment, then slowly turns to him, a plate still in her hands. “excuse me?”

he sets the cloth down, finally meeting her gaze. “you’ve gotten closer to my sister. fine. but don’t forget how things started, the hostility, your attitude. don’t think for a second that i’ll let my guard down around you.”

minji’s jaw tightens, her grip on the plate firm. “you think i’m going to hurt her? if this is about sparring then don’t be an idiot. you act like i’m going to kill her—is that what this is about?”

“i’m just saying,” wonbin continues, his voice colder as he stares at minji’s knuckles, “if you so much as—”

“give me a break.” she interripts, setting down the plate with more force than necessary. “i’m not going to kill her, wonbin. stop worrying your head off like i’m some ticking time bomb. besides, y/n is more than capable of protecting herself.”

his eyes narrow. “you don’t get to decide what i worry about. she’s my family.” 

“and what? you think i don’t know how much she means to you?” minji snaps back. “you think i don’t know what it’s like to have someone you want to protect? because guess what. i used to have someone too, but that’s not the case anymore. you treat me like i was placed onto earth with these claws willingly just to be a predator. i’m not an animal.”

the room feels charged, the weight of their words hanging in the air. you step into the doorway just as minji’s voice rises, catching the tail end of the argument.

“i don’t care whether you trust me or not. if you don’t? so be it. but don’t stand there and act like you know me, like i’m a threat.” she says, her voice tight with frustration.

wonbin’s mouth opens, but whatever he’s about to say dies on his lips when he notices you standing there. minji follows his gaze, her expression hardening when she sees you.

“great,” minji mutters, brushing past you with the tray of dishes. “enjoy your lecture.”

the door swings shut behind her, leaving you and wonbin alone in the now-awkward silence. you sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“really?” you groan, your tone equal parts tired and exasperated.

he frowns, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows before beginning to wipe the table again—as if it’ll distract him. “i’m just looking out for you.”

“wonbin, she’s not the enemy.” you reply, stepping closer. “she’s trying, and you’re not making it any easier for her. it’s been a few months and you’re holding on a grudge from first impressions.”

“those goddamn claws are always so close to you!” he hits his fist against the table. “always out and— hell, not everyone can get hurt and heal in less than ten seconds—”

“yeah, i know,” you cut him off. “and she knows too. believe me, she’s not proud of it.”

his wiping slows, and for a moment, he just stands there, gripping the cloth tightly. “i don’t trust her.” he mumbles under his breath, hands harshly running through his hair and gripping at the roots.

“i don’t care. i’m not asking you to,” you say, your voice softening. “i’m asking you to give her a chance. she’s not the same person she was when she got here. none of us are—she’s part of our team now. she’s a mutant, she’s one of us.”

“there’s mutants that want us dead.” he finally looks at you, his expression conflicted. “i just… i don’t want you to get hurt. i lost my blood-brother, and i can’t risk losing my sister too.”

“i know,” you say, placing a hand on his arm. “but you can’t protect me from everything. and you don’t have to. i’ve got everything under control, you do know that my powers aren’t limited to making a napkin move anymore, right? i’m not a child.”

he sighs out heavily, nodding slightly. “fine. but if she steps out of line…”

you smile faintly, giving his arm a light squeeze. “you’ll be the first to know. i can get into your head from a city away.”

the tension eases, and for the first time all evening, the room feels calm again. but in the back of your mind, you wonder if minji heard any of what you said—or if she’s decided to keep her distance.

—

the jet hums beneath your feet as the five of you prepare for landing. the professors—minho, namjoon, and hyeri—stand at the front, briefing everyone one last time. you and your peers, the strongest and oldest of the bunch, have been preparing and preparing for the day to come, for a mission like this. it never seemed like it would be real, something so significant.

wonbin has been sent before to find “mutants fighting destructively and wrecklessly in the mountains thirty minutes away from the city,” which was apparently one of the more risky feats. wonbin came back with a cut on his arm and lip, and he never gets hurt. he also came back with an exhausted minjeong, with messed up hair and a fragile body. of all the mutants that he met there, each one being equally as dangerous, he came back with one that changed things for the better: minji.

and now you’re scratching your pointer finger with your thumb, staring at the ground as you think about what might happen on this mission. tension in the air is thick, the weight of the mission pressing down on you and your teammates. 

the task at hand was to rescue a group of mutants held by a militant anti-mutant organization, the same organization that had to do with minji being unconscious the day you met her: jyp’s men. they’ve been raiding mutant-safe zones and capturing young mutants, using them as bait to draw out larger groups of mutants for extermination—some of the people supporting this were mutants themselves.

your breath shakes just thinking about it—everything.

you glance over at minji, whose face is a careful mask of calm as she looks out the window of the jet. then you look at wonbin and minjeong, who are both looking equally nervous as they do determined.

“stay focused, and remember your training,” professor hyeri says, her gaze sweeping over the group. “trust each other.” 

her words urge you to glance at wonbin, then at minji. wonbin makes direct eye contact with you, then looks away, tensing his jaw. minji stays unbothered, but her thumb scratches her skin the same way you had been doing.

the jet door opens, and the cold night air rushes in. you descend into the dense forest where the intel suggests the young mutants are hiding. 

everything starts fine. the group moves in formation, sticking close and covering each other as instructed. but soon, things aren’t as simple.

blasts of energy light up the darkness as the mutants—ones against their own kind—ambush you all, their powers as unpredictable as they are destructive. you dart behind a fallen tree, barely avoiding a fiery projectile aimed your way. minjeong retaliates with a frost barrier, her hands trembling as she colds a harsh breeze in place, but steadying as she encases an attacker in a compact wind.

“watch out!” wonbin shouts, tackling you before you get hammered by a henchman running towards you. he quickly recovers, turning his head and taking off his glasses as beams shoot from his eyes, completely blowing the guy back. 

wonbin puts his glasses back on, then puts a hand on your neck. he looks at you worriedly and you place a hand on his, “thank you,”

“you could’ve died.”

“i was going to send him flying,” you giggle lightly to lighten the mood, which is ruined again when a piece of wood is hurled towards you two. without looking, you lift your hand, making the wood stop and split into pieces in front of you. 

wonbin rolls his eyes, then gets up. “stay safe, you’re an idiot sometimes.”

“whatever.”

the next few encounters were manageable—stunning blows, deflected strikes, and coordinated attacks as you worked seamlessly as a team. but the situation quickly spiraled when more mutants appeared, armed with advanced weaponry designed specifically to neutralize mutants.

chaos erupted from there.

one blast sent you flying into a tree, a sharp pain radiating through your shoulder and arm as you hit the ground. you gritted your teeth, using your powers to fling debris at the attackers whil simultaneously pulling out a chunk of wood from your forearm. the strain on your injury made your telekinesis falter. wonbin widened his eyes at the sight of you, running over and crouching next to you as a powerful optic blast from his eyes knocked several men back.

“stay down!” wonbin shouted through the chaos, but his voice wavered with concern as he noticed the blood staining your sleeve. “y/n, y/n jesus christ…”

minjeong was a blur, lighting shooting from her fingertips as she immobilized one of the attackers. her hair whipped wildly around her face, the storm she summoned cracking ominous above her.

amidst the disarray, minji became the anchor holding you all together. while you all lingered in the same area, she moved across the terrain with brutal efficiency. her claws tore through weapons and disarming attackers with practiced ease—the same way she made her way through the dummies back at the school, but much quicker. she looked angrier than you’ve ever seen her before, blood staining her knuckles and stabbing mercilessly. 

but then, one of the men aimed a specialized weapon—something lethal and glowing with energy in your direction, meaning it’d not only hit you, but also wonbin and minjeong. 

minji looks over, quickly taking her hand away from some man’s chest she’s just stabbed. her eyes widen, she hurries over, huffing and biting down as she pushes herself physically.

“get down!” she yells, throwing herself in front of you all. 

you watched in horror as the shot hit her squarely, wonbin’s shoulder covering a bit of the image from the way blocked you. she staggered but didn’t fall, her claws retracting for a second. they emerge a few seconds later and she grits her teeth, looking down at you as she endures the pain. 

wonbin looks up as well, flinching. a sharp gasp of surprise slips from him as a second shot follows, and then another, but minji didn’t budge. her body served as a shield, each hit accompanied by a guttural groan that made your chest tighten painfully.

“minji, stop!” you cry, trying to reach out for her as panic seizes you. the sight of her taking the brunt of the attack was almost too much to bear.

“stay down!” she snaps, her voice sharp despite what she’s enduring. there’s agony etched into her features, earning tears from you. 

her claws extended fully as she leaped forward, taking down two men in quick, fluid movements. wonbin’s blast took out another attacker as he continued to hold you, while minjeong’s storm surge sent the remaining men scattering.

“minjeong,” wonbin starts, looking at the destruction, and especially at minji. she’s limping, breathing hard, the sleeve of one arm torn off. “gather any of the young mutants you can find—the refugees. i’m going to check on minji.”

“you are?” minjeong says, surprised as she looks between both of them.

but before wonbin can move, you push him off with your power, making him roll off of you and on the ground. he grunts as he pushes himself up, watching you run over to where minji is.

he calls out for you, but you push it in the back of your mind—what matters the most is minji. 

she’s clutching her shoulder, on her knees, and soon falling back onto the ground. she lies there for a moment, staring up and groaning. you rush over to her side, pushing her hair away from her face and cupping her cheeks as tears flow. because of her powers she’s not bruised, there aren’t any cuts, but just the memory from before and her pure exhaustion are enough to have you ignoring your injuries.

“minji? minji, minji please.” her blinking gets slower as she looks up, then she looks over to you and smiles. “minji, are you okay? minji please…” you shake her, hands moving to the side of her neck and then her shoulders.

her blinking slows down until her eyes close fully for a moment. she smiles softly and brings her hand over to place it over yours. her claws are still out, but they retract slowly into her skin.

“ouch,” she groans, “hurts a lot.”

you choke out another cry and put your head down on her shoulder, tears staining the sleeve that hadn’t been blown up or torn. she brings her other hand over to rest on your head, fingers digging into your scalp just a bit.

“i’m fine, y/n. i just need a good nap…”

“still,” you say, voice light and airy and full of worry. “i can’t see you getting hurt like that again, i can’t.” 

“why?” minji asks genuinely, watching you pull away to look at her through glossy eyes. “you know i don’t get hurt like everyone else.”

“i know, i just—” you close your eyes, sighing. “i care about you so much. seeing you hurt i just, i—”

“wow, you look really pretty right now.” minji mumbles, hand on your cheek now. “the dust and moonlight and… blood,” she giggles with a mix of pain and admiration, “really brings out your eyes.”

“you idiot,” you say quietly. your brows twitch as they furrow, from her words and also the sudden pain everywhere in your body. 

“y/n?” minji asks as you go weak and collapse on her, breath shaky. “y/n?” she says again, voice much more worried as she tries to get up. 

“i’m glad you’re okay, as long as you’re okay.” you sigh, feeling minji’s arms around you.

“y/n? y/n—” minji feels blood seeping through your suit and onto her, looking down to see a slight stain that leaked onto her skin. 

—

minji stares at the floor of her room, her hands balled up into fists and pressing into her thighs. her thoughts are a loop, they’ve been a loop ever since the mission had ended. the endless memory of you being thrown into a tree, the look on your face that she managed to witness, and the blood—so much blood. 

in the moment she had wanted to run to you, even before wonbin did. she wanted to pull you up, to do something, but the mission hadn’t allowed for hesitation. there had been too many enemies darting at her and four young mutants on the line. although she wanted to run up and protect you, she knew better.

but still, she thinks about how if she were faster, stronger—she could’ve maybe taken down the man that hurled you.

guilt festers, pressing heavily on her chest until she’s breathing heavier, and she pushes herself out of the room and onto the rooftop of the school. the night is still, the stars faint behind the clouds, and the chill of the air bites against her skin. she sits with her legs dangling off, staring at the sky like you’d do with her when you both couldn’t sleep. 

it’s been almost twenty-four hours since you fell unconscious, twenty-four hours since the moment where minji had to watch wonbin carry you with tears in the corners of his eyes and your blood staining some of his forearm.

“minji.” professor minho’s voice breaks through the stillness, calm but firm. he looks out at the moon past minji, not opening his mouth as he telepathically says, “she’s in much better condition now, blinked a few times before returning to her state before.”

minji doesn’t think, doesn’t hesitate. her body moves on its own, programmed to sprint at the mention that you’re conscious again. she’s rushing down the stairs and through the hallways until she’s outside the infirmary door. she pauses, her hand hovering just above the doorknob, suddenly unsure. she takes a steadying breath before stepping inside.

wonbin is seated by your bedside, his large hand wrapped around yours protectively. his expression softens slightly when he sees minji enter, though the tension in his shoulders doesn’t fully ease. minji doesn’t say anything, just pulls up a chair across from him and sits down, her gaze locking onto you. 

you’re pale, your arm and torso heavily bandaged. every rise and fall of your chest feels like a fragile promise, and minji’s stomach twists at the sight. she doesn’t know how long she stares before wonbin’s voice cuts through the silence. 

“thank you,” he says, his voice quiet but sincere. it’s the first time he’s spoken with so much vulnerability to her. minji looks up, surprised, and sees the way his grip on your hand tightens slightly. “for doing all of that—protecting all of us out there. i mean it.”

minji nods, her throat tight. “i couldn’t protect her,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “not enough.”

“we both tried our best. it was hard out there.” wonbin shakes his head. “you did more than enough for her, for all of us.” he hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line before he goes on, “look, i know we’ve clashed… and i haven’t been… well, the best. to you, i mean. but i do appreciate what you did. thank you.”

a silent treaty—something like that—is signed. close enough.

minji nods again, the tension between them easing ever so slightly. they sit in silence, the faint hum of the machines monitoring your vitals filling the room.

minjeong walks in a moment later, her presence bright but subdued as she glances between the two of them and then at you. “she’s okay?” she asks softly, her gaze lingering on your face as she walks over to place a hand on your tummy softly.

“she’s tough,” wonbin says, voice steady. “she’ll be fine.”

minji stands, the chair scraping softly against the floor. she steps back, giving minjeong space as the other girl sits next to wonbin. minji’s look lingers on you for a moment longer before she turns and leaves the room.

she’s halfway to the door when she hears your voice—not aloud, but soft and clear in her mind. 

thank you minji.

she freezes, her fingers hovering over the handle. her pulse quickens, the room suddenly feeling smaller, like it’s folding in on itself. slowly, she glances over her shoulder, her gaze locking onto your still-unconscious form. your lips are slightly parted, you’re still pale, and still. minji knows she’s not imagining it. the connection between the two of you hums faintly, along with the soft sound of your breath, fragile but unmistakable. 

you didn’t have to do all that, but you did. you’re an idiot, you know? 

your voice continues with the same warmth as always.

even if you are… i’d like to… i don’t know, spend some time together?

minji’s grip on the handle tightens, the weight of your words settling in her chest. she turns fully now, minjeong and wonbin perking their heads at her. her gaze softens as it rests on you. “you don’t owe me anything, only the promise that you’ll rest up.” she mutters, her voice slightly louder than wonbin’s clothes shuffling as he moves his arm a bit. “just take it easy, okay?”

there’s no response, only the steady beeping of the machines beside you. but as minji observes, she catches the faintest twitch of your lips—a subtle movement, tugging into something that’d be a stupid smirk if you were your normal self. it’s barely there, but enough to send a flicker of something unfamiliar through her.

she watches you for a moment more before leaving, not turning back. minjeong and wonbin look at each other, confused, before brushing it off and paying attention to you again.

—

a few days pass, and you’re finally on your feet again. the first steps are unsteady, your legs wobbling like they’re testing the idea of holding your weight, but you manage. besides, the pain in your upper body is worse. 

still, wonbin hovers like a shadow, always within reach. his presence is both comforting and stifling, his sharp eyes darting to every movement you make as if you might topple over an second.

(which, you might. you’re not going to admit it though, he wouldn’t let you have the end of it.)

it’s not just during the usual times either. at lunch he’s seated right next to you, arms crossed and jaw tensed. occasionally, he glances toward minji whenever she approaches, staying in your peripheral as you two laugh over something he doesn’t know the context of.

the hallway is no different; as you and minji exchange casual remarks, he lingers a few steps behind, clearly within earshot. minji’s talking about how training is a bit rough after being shot multiple times from the event despite her healing, and wonbin’s behind listening—but not prying. 

even in your room, when minji stops by with a book she claims might “keep you from getting bored,” he’s sitting on the floor against your bed, staring at minji through his frames and folding his arms like some overprotective sentinel.

neither of you mind it for now. minji spares him the occasional smirk or side glance, clearly aware of his hovering, but doesn’t press. sometimes she tries to get him engaged in your conversations, even if it’s about something stupid like ice cream toppings and food arguments. you’ve come to accept his protective streak, considering it exposes him to the minji you’ve grown to care for a lot.

a few days later, though, you’ve had enough. sitting on the porch with wonbin, you watch him from the corner of your eye as he fiddles with his phone, pretending not to be monitoring your every breath. you sigh and turn to him, your tone as light as you can make it. “won, i’m fine. seriously. i’m not going to collapse or break apart.”

he looks up sharply, his brow furrowing. “you’re still recovering. flimsy isn’t fine.”

you laugh softly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “flimsy is better than useless, and besides, i need to get back to normal at some point. hovering like a drone won’t make me stronger. you’re like some… medieval guard—that has lasers coming out his eyes.”

his frown deepens, but it’s slightly more playful. for a moment it seems like he might argue, but then he sighs, leaning back against the railing. “i just… i can’t have anything like that happening to you again.”

you reach over, patting his hand briefly. “i know. and i appreciate it. but trust me, i’ve got it. okay?” your fingers link with his and he softens just barely.

he nods reluctantly, muttering something about keeping an eye on you anyway, but you can see the tension in his shoulders start to ease further. a win is a win, you think with a smile, as the two of you sit in comfortable silence before you ask wonbin about how his aim has been getting. he responds with a groan and you chuckle.

—

dishes clinking against each other fills the quiet in the air of the kitchen. you and minji work together to clean up after dinner, the soft hum of the school settling into its evening lull. your movements are methodical, each plate and glass wiped clean and set aside, but your thoughts are anything but calm. every now and then, your look flickers to minji, catching her in the soft glow of the overhead light, her expression focused, her hands steady.

you’re halfway through stacking a set of plates when the words slip out. “i was scared to death,”

minji freezes, her hands pausing mid-reach for a plate. she turns her head, her gaze meeting yours with a hint of surprise. 

you place the plate you’re holding down on the counter and step closer, your heart pounding harder with each step. “when you were on the ground… when they blasted you with those shots and we all had to watch, i though—” your voice wavers, and you swallow hard. “i thought i was going to lose you.”

minji straightens, her eyes softening as they search yours. “you know my abilities,” she says quietly, her tone careful. “i heal. i always heal. shoot me and the bullet will be pushed right out, stab me and the cut will close. those blasts hurt, they weakened me yeah, but i’m in one piece.”

you shake your head, taking another step closer. “i know. but still… seeing you like that—acting like a shield and taking all of that—i just… i didn’t know what to do. i was terrified.”

her eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, the air feels heavier, more charged. you’re standing so close now that you can see every faint scar on her hands that were left when she was younger, the tension in her shoulders.

“you weren’t the only one,” she says softly. “during your recovery… i kept thinking thinking about it, about you. i couldn’t do anything to protect you. it killed me seeing you like that.”

your chest tightens at her words, and before you can think, your arms move on their own. you pull her into a hug, your grip firm but careful. she stiffens for a brief second before she melts into you, her chin resting on your shoulder as her arms trap you tightly. her heartbeat thumps against yours, quick and uneven, matching your own.

“we’re both fine now, at least. that’s all that matters.” minji’s chin moves just a bit against your shoulder as she says it, “as long as you’re with me.”

when you pull back, your hands linger, fingers barely grazing each other’s arms. you stare into her eyes, and something shifts—there’s something in her eyes that wasn’t there before, or maybe you just never noticed.

minji’s cheeks are dusted pink, her lips slightly parted as she takes you in. she thinks you’ve never looked more radiant than you do in this moment, eyes filled with so much care it makes her heart swell.

you, on the other hand, see her in a new light entirely. she’s glowing to you even in the dimmed area. it feels like something undeniable is pulling you towards her. your hands reach over hesitantly, fingers brushing against the skin of minji’s cheek before you hold her there. her ears and brows twitch ever so slightly before she sinks into you, tilting her head into your hand and humming softly. 

“minji, i think i—” 

then, the sound of the door creaking open snaps you both out of it. professor minho steps in, his warm smile immediately taking in the scene. you two pull away, taking two steps back in one motion as you clear your throats. minji feels as if there’s a warmth missing on her cheek.

“i’ll take care of the rest,” he says, his voice calm but knowing. “you two go rest. there’s a lot of action packed recovery and training tomorrow.”

flustered, you make your way out quickly, coughing awkwardly. “yes, of course. thank you professor.” you shoot minji a quick, bashful smile before excusing yourself, your heart still racing as you leave the kitchen area.

minji stays behind, glancing down at her hands before returning to the dishes, her mind replaying the moment over. and as she stands by the sink, she keeps scrubbing the same plate like it’s the only thing she’s programmed to do while her thoughts swirl around in her head.

her heart beats too fast and her cheeks are still too warm.

professor minho watches her with quiet amusement as he picks up a small, dry rag. the comfortable silence lingers for a moment longer before he clears his throat, drawing minji’s attention. 

“you know,” he starts, his tone casual but laced with curiosity, “you’re not usually this distracted.”

minji glances at him, her lips pressing into a thin line as if trying to play it off. “just tired,” she mutters, rinsing the plate and setting it aside before accepting the rag he hands her, drying her hands after.

minho doesn’t press right away, but his knowing look stays fixed on her, patient. finally, he speaks again, softer this time. “how do you feel about y/n?”

the question catches minji off guard. she freezes, her grip tightening on the rag she’s holding. her first instinct is to brush it off, but the weight of everything has her too raw to hide. and plus, the professor doesn’t need to use his powers to read her, or any of the students for that matter.

“she’s,” minji pauses, struggling to find the right words. her voice is quieter now as she leans against the counter with a hand on her face. “she’s the first person i’ve cared about this much in a while.”

minho’s expression softens, his small smile doesn’t fade. “i can see that.” he says simply.

minji looks at him, surprised by his lack of judgment or teasing. “you can?”

he chuckles lightly, nodding as he starts to clean the next few dishes. “i’ve known y/n for a long time. took her in when she had no one else. i’ve seen her grow, especially with wonbin, and struggle and learn and—the latter. she’s been and fought through things that most people wouldn’t spring back up from.” he pauses, his tone growing more thoughtful. “i know how much she cares, how deeply she feels for everyone around her—even if she doesn’t always show it. her and minjeong, wonbin, the professors, the rest of the students… but she cares for you in a very interesting way. she looks at you differently.”

minji’s heart skips a beat, her eyes widening slightly. “how she looks at me?”

minho nods. “it’s the same way you look at her.” he lets the words hang in the air before continuing, putting a dish away as he says, “whatever this is between you two—whatever it becomes—i think it’s good. for both of you.”

minji frowns slightly, her brows furrowing. “wonbin doesn’t seem to think so.”

minho laughs quietly, shaking his head. “wonbin is quite protective,” he explains, “he’s always been that way with y/n. they’ve been through a lot together, and he sees it as his job to keep her safe. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like you.”

minji looks up at him with skepticism painted in her features. “he barely tolerates me.”

“he did,” minho admits, “but ever since the mission, that’s changed drastically. you protected all of them—you protected him and the person he loves most. he sees that now. and whether he’s able to admit it or not, he respects you greatly for it. he even likes you… to an extent.”

minji raises an eyebrow, doubtful but not entirely dismissive. “you’re sure about that?”

minho smiles knowingly. “i’ve known wonbin a long time. trust me, if he didn’t like you, you’d know. the fact that he lingers around while you and y/n are talking? that’s his way of easing into it—and because he doesn’t trust his sister enough while she’s not fully recovered.”

“it’s just…” minji sighs, “i don’t want to make things harder for y/n. she’s been through so much already. i can’t be another scoop of worry on her plate.”

minho finishes washing the last of all the plates, getting lazy and deciding to scrub the silverware with his mind. the spoons behind him lift up and the sponge scrubs on its own in the air as he turns to face minji, leaning against the counter.

“minji, you’re not making things harder for her. if anything, you’re doing the opposite. y/n doesn’t let just anyone in, you know. she’s cautious, careful about who she trusts—and yet, she trusts you. that’s quite remarkable if you ask me.”

she doesn’t respond immediately, her mind replaying the way you had looked at her earlier, the softness in your voice when you spoke. it felt… different. 

“i know both y/n well enough to see when something—or someone—means a lot to her.”

minji meets his gaze, her own uncertain but searching for reassurance.

“you think i mean that much to her?” she asks, almost hesitant to hear the answer.

minho smiles, a small, knowing smile that feels like the answer she’s been looking for. “i don’t think minji. i’m certain. and from what i’ve seen, you feel the same.”

she doesn’t deny it, she can’t. instead, she looks away, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

minho places all the silverware on the drying rack with his mind as he walks over to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “whatever this is between you two, don’t make it more complex than it is. just let it happen, don’t think too far ahead, don’t think too much. y/n doesn’t need perfection—she needs someone who cares. and you’re already doing that.”

she stays silent for a moment, taking in his words.

“and don’t worry about wonbin. he’ll come around fully sooner than you think. i think he already is. he’s just stubborn.” minho assures, taking his hand off of her before grabbing another rag to dry off her hands. “now, you should get yourself to bed. as i said, lots of training tomorrow.”

“right, yes. thank you professor.” minji says, nodding at him before pursing her lips into a smile. 

“anytime, you’re my student afterall.”

minji nods once more before heading to the door. everything falls quiet again, she makes her way down the hallway as her thoughts swirl. it’s only when she gets to her room and closes the door, thinking of the way you’d looked at her earlier. she lets herself smile, just a bit, maybe more than that. 

(she’s grinning from ear to ear)

she thinks that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

—

you and minjeong are paired up for sparring the next day, grinning as soon as the matchup is made. she huffs before raising her fists up, ready to fight. professor hyeri gives you the green light, yelling at the top of her lungs.

there’s the echo of punches meeting gloves and the occasional smack of a body hitting the mat. you and minjeong square off, circling each other. there’s a glint in her eye today—a little more focus, more drive.

it doesn’t take long before you find yourself flat on your back, blinking up at the ceiling with her smirking down at you.

“okay, maybe i’m still not fully recovered,” you groan, the sting to your pride a little heavier than the soreness in your muscles. you take her outstretched hand reluctantly, letting her help you up.

“or maybe,” minjeong leans in just slightly, her voice low enough so that only you can hear, “it’s the girl with the claws.”

heat rises to your face immediately. your grip on her hand loosens, and you shove her playfully as you step back. “you’re out of your mind,” you huff, shaking your head as if you’re dismissing her.

she shrugs, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips as she steps back into position. “am i?”

you roll your shoulders and raise your fists, ready to go again. punches fly between you—sharp jabs, swift swings, and quick dodges that nearly graze skin. despite the physical focus, the conversation doesn’t stop.

“you’ve been different lately,” minjeong says before moving her head to the side to dodge your punch. she aims a kick towards you that you narrowly block.

“i have not,” your tone is just as defensive as your stance.

“there’s something there. something you’re not saying,” she presses, her voice teasing but curious.

you focus on the sparring, refusing to meet her gaze, but it’s getting harder to ignore the way her words chip away at you.

then it happens; minjeong slips. not physically, but her guard falters as she glances at you, and it’s all you need. with a quick step, you sweep her off her feet, pinning her down as you hover just above.

“you’re distracted. maybe less talk, more fight?” you say, breathless but triumphant.

she groans, lighting hitting the mat and rolling her eyes in frustration. there’s no real annoyance in her expression—just a mix of surprise and admiration.

before either of you can say more, your eyes flick to minji, who’s sparring with wonbin a few feet away. her movements are fluid, rapid, and sharp. something about the way she moves, so uncontrollably but with precision at the same time pulls at you.

minjeong notices the shift in your expression immediately. “see? there it is.”

you glance back at her, your grip on her wrist getting weaker as your face heats up again. 

“maybe… something,” you mumble, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

you’re standing above her, but a quick meeting between her hand and your ankle sends you falling on the mat beside her, making her laugh. another groan slips from your lips, but you smile as you get up when she does, rolling your eyes.

she sits back, watching you with an infuriatingly smug smile.

“i hate you sometimes, you know?” you grumble, shaking your head as you get up.

“you’re welcome!” she says with a light and teasing tone. “water?” she suggests.

“please.”

as you glance at minji one more time, catching her wiping sweat from her brow and laughing softly—surprisingly so—at something wonbin says, you realize minjeong isn’t entirely wrong.

—

by the end of the week you and minji haven’t spent too much time together—not alone at least. just the two of you and comfort in the air.

but now, you and minji sit on the schools rooftop, her legs dangling off the building as the moon shimmers. minji's in one piece, but your arm still has a suture covering a deep cut that’s almost fully healed—plus, there's a scratch still on your neck and pain lingering here and there.

it’s silent for a bit, your shoulders grazing then fully pressing against each other. that is, until minji breaks that quiet of the night.

"i wish i were more like you." minji states plainly, eyes angled down at the ground.

you look at her strangely, then mutter, "what?"

"sometimes i wish i could just figure out what you're thinking of sometimes." minji shrugs, “i’ve been wishing i could just make sense of things. if i could read minds and all that… maybe i could.”

"people who can't hold themselves back from doing that aren't the right ones to have my power, minji."

“i have self control, you know?” she chuckles and you raise a brow. she just shakes her head and smirks, looking back up at the moon in the sky. "i wouldn't pry into minds like that."

"sure you wouldn't." you scoff, dangling your feet.

"have you ever read my mind? other than... when i asked you to?” her voice is softer now.

"i don't like reading people's minds without permission, consent isn't just physical."

“so you haven’t…?”

“minji, i wouldn’t. not unless you ask me. i wouldn’t read any minds unless explicitly ordered, or something.”

minji turns to face you now, smiling at you. "what, you're afraid you'll like it if you read me?"

"ugh." you move your hand just a bit, your fingers softly land on top of minji's knuckles. she tightens her jaw and you smile. "you're an idiot."

"read my mind y/n." minji insists lowly, her voice near a hum. she shifts herself closer, your noses are half a finger apart. your fingers slide past her knuckles and up the back of her hand, your nails press against her just barely. "c'mon, you have my permission."

“there’s nothing in that hollow skull of yours.”

“hey!”

“am i wrong?”

“yes! just read it.”

looking at her, you shake your head lightly. minji’s smiling at you, her eyes moving from your own eyes and down to your lips here and there. she looks at you like that and you think that whatever you feel for her isn’t just maybe, it’s been a big certainly. and maybe it’s always been there, maybe she was always so nice to look at, talk to, and really just someone you were completely attracted to in the end. 

the moon shines perfectly, the wind rustles her hair just a bit, and everything falls into place.

you lean closer, tilting your head and making minji grip the edge of the rooftop. your lips ghost over hers and your eyes are half-lidded before you murmur, "i don't need to use my powers to read your mind, to know what you want.”

minji feels lips pressing against her own, immediately reciprocating and cupping your cheek with her free hand. your hand grips hers tightly as she deepens the kiss, the hand on your cheek sliding towards the back of your head and the nape of your neck.

you pull away, smiling bashfully and turning away to hide your face. minji giggles, the sound echoes in the air and makes you smile harder. her hand is still on the back of your neck and you feel her pushing your head towards her so she can press a light kiss in your hair.

when you finally turn back to meet her face to face, she's smirking smugly, the look she gives you is enough to let you know that she’s about to tease the life out of you, so you use your powers, bringing two fingers up, bending them towards you to make her gasp as she involuntarily moves forward. you kiss her lips again to stop her before some snarky remark leaves her mouth.

she manages to pull away mid-kiss to sneak in a quick, "cute," before you pull her back in by the collar of her t-shirt.

—

minji stays the night in your room, you couldn’t bear being a few rooms away from her after knowing what her lips feel and taste like.

she watches you stretch, run a hand through your hair, and sigh as you flop onto your mattress. you stay there, breathing in, out, and open your eyes just barely to look at minji, who’s still standing.

“come, don’t stand there like an idiot.” 

minji chuckles. “coming.”

she strips out of her crewneck sweater and sweatpants, to which you enjoy the scene greatly before she’s just in a tank top and boy shorts. she rubs her face before getting in bed with you both of you beside each other for a moment on yours sides, eye to eye.

you pull the blanket to cover both of you, especially minji.

“you know, i hated you so much when you first got here.” you admit, your eyes trailing down the curve of her nose and to her lips. “you almost killed me.”

“sorry about that.”

you smile, sighing contentedly. “i think getting to know you more made up for it.” you nearly whisper, then shuffle closer to kiss her lips briefly. 

minji wraps her arm around you, keeping you close to her and humming. you close your eyes, finding comfort in her warmth.

“i think i love you.” minji’s voice is practically a breath.

“i think i love you as well.”

—

the sunlight is filtered by the window, which leaves a subtle glow on your face and minji’s cheek. minjeong pushes open your door, her footsteps are a little loud as she steps inside, ready to wake you up annoyingly. 

you’re not one to sleep in, you’re actually the early bird who’s waking her up. but it’s nearly nine and training is at ten and breakfast has been ready and—

she freezes in her tracks when she sees the two of you.

you and minji are tangled together in your bed, still deep in sleep. minji’s head rests in the crook of your neck, her breath steady and warm against your skin. one of your legs is draped loosely over hers, while her arm curls protectively around your waist. the rise and fall of your chests follow after each other without any rush. slow and steady. there’s an undeniable sense of comfort in the way you’re both nestled so cozily together.

minjeong hesitates, her lips parting slightly as she takes in the scene. there’s something tender about it, something so peaceful that she almost feels guilty for intruding.

is y/n awake? 

the familiar voice of professor minho echoes in her mind, pulling her back to the moment. she grimaces slightly, knowing she’ll have to explain—and not just to the professor.

“um… not exactly,” she replies out loud, tone laced with uncertainty.

what do you mean, not exactly?

minjeong glances at the bed again, biting her lip before responding. “well, they’re still asleep. both of them. together.” she pauses, “them being y/n and minji. minji’s… kind of clinging onto y/n. really closely.”

there’s silence on the other end, a notable pause that stretches long enough for minjeong to start second guessing herself.

finally, minho’s voice cuts through again, calm and composed. 

let them sleep in. i think they need it.

minjeong blinks, slightly surprised by his response, but she can sense the faint warmth and smile in his tone.

“are you sure?” she asks, her gaze flicking back to the two of you. neither of you has stirred, both lost in the serenity of the moment. 

they’ve been through a lot. they deserve the rest, minho replies simply, the weight of his words settling over her. and you haven’t finished breakfast. ah, also, you should go and explain things to wonbin, he’ll take it fine—i would assume.

“right,” minjeong nods to herself, stepping back quietly. she closes the door with care, leaving you and minji undisturbed. when she turns around, she’s met with wonbin, who’s a few steps from your bedroom door.

“is she awake? and where is minji?” he questions, tilting his head.

“how do i explain this…”

“...what?”

“just… look into her room.”

wonbin raises a brow before stepping past her, slowly opening the door to see the same sight minjeong saw before: you, minji, and coziness etched into your features and painted in the way your limbs meet.

he doesn’t know what to say, or do. he simply stares, observing the expressions. 

“are you mad?” minjeong asks in a hushed whisper.

wonbin doesn’t respond for a moment, instead, tensing his jaw like he always does. he sighs, exhaling deeply.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen her sleep that well.” he murmurs, “she looks so… peaceful.”

“minji does too.” minjeong peeks in, agreeing with him.

“i’m not mad,” he finally answers the question, “as long as my sister is happy.”

he smiles when you turn just a bit to throw your arm over minji, pushing her closer to you as if she were a teddy bear. you mumble something incoherent and sleepily press a kiss into minji’s hair subconsciously. 

wonbin’s smile grows just a bit, then he steps out with minjeong and closes the door as quietly as he can. he starts walking towards the stairs, with minjeong catching up and walking beside him as he puts his hands in his pockets, looking ahead of him.

wonbin sighs, a mix of content and something joyous. 

“i can’t be mad when my sister’s that happy.”

[kisu-doodles]

Since we as a society are basically all in agreement about Scott being autistic I can’t stop thinking about Scott having ‘quirks’ that is actually just him stimming (because I also feel that this man is not diagnosed let’s be fr)

I feel like a lot of his stims would involve his hands like snapping his fingers when he’s concentrating and touching his lips.

Idk I just imagine Logan being like did you hurt your hand because while Scott is marking exams he has his elbow resting on the desk with his non writing hand raised while he clenches and flexes it, occasionally rubbing his thumb and fingers together. Scott’s like what are u talking about my hands fine.

I also think Scott would really like the texture of Logan’s jacket and shirts so he kinda unconsciously starts rubbing the fabric between his fingers whenever he and Logan are cuddling

[moeitsu]

heyyy, I absolutely love ur fics and hcs...I was wondering if u will be willing to write smth fluffy abt logan...

Like they have been good friends for awhile and both of them have been pinning for each other...but the reader thinks he still loves jean...

And they've an argument Abt smth before a mission and obv reader gets injured...but someone else saves her and he doesn't get to meet her and when she recovers she avoids him .....

Smth like thiss...plss....❤️✨

The miscommunication trope is a tough one for me, but I hope I did alright! Thanks for being my first request!

"You're the only one for me" Logan Howlett x Reader

wc: 1k warnings: none Lots of fluff and feels at the end :)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A jealous itch runs up your spine as you see Logan across the room, smiling at her the same way he smiles at you. Jean Grey. Everyone in the mansion knows about their history, about Logan’s long, unrequited love for her.

Despite her loyalty to Scott, Logan couldn’t help but fall for the beautiful, fiery redhead. But that was before you came along.

Logan and you have always had a deep, unspoken understanding. From the very first day you met, there was something electric between you, something unnameable but undeniably there.

A glance across the room was all it took to communicate. And yet, there was always something more, lingering beneath the surface, something neither of you were brave enough to say out loud.

Late nights under the stars became your shared solace. You’d sit side by side, talking about everything and nothing, as the night stretched on. Logan listened to every word you said like it was the most important thing in the world.

Those quiet moments, with the world asleep around you, were what he treasured most. But he never told you that.

He never told you how those talks meant more to him than any battle he’d ever won.

Logan isn’t one for grand gestures, but you noticed the small things. How his hand would linger when he handed you a cup of coffee, the way he instinctively stepped closer when the room got too crowded, or how his arm would sometimes brush against yours when you walked side by side.

These moments made your heart race, but just as you thought there might be something more, you’d catch him with Jean, and the doubts would creep in.

Oh, how he wished he had the courage to tell you how he felt. But the pain of rejection haunted him. The fear of opening his heart, only to have it shattered again, quieted him into submission.

So, he stayed silent, letting the tension build between you, even as he longed to close the gap.

But you were growing tired of the mind games. His feelings for you seemed as real as the ground beneath your feet, as the air in your lungs. He must feel the same way, you told yourself.

But then, there he was, spending time with Jean, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you had it all wrong.

The tension finally boiled over before a big mission. The argument was sharp, words cutting deeper than any blade.

“Just go back to Jean!” you snapped, frustration and hurt lacing your voice.

Logan’s eyes widened, his own frustration simmering beneath the surface. “You think I—” he started, but the words stumbled. He tried to deny it, but his voice failed him, the weight of unspoken truths holding him back.

You both stormed off, leaving the air between you crackling with unresolved tension.

The mission was a blur of chaos, and then—disaster.

You were injured, and it was serious. Logan’s heart stopped when he heard. He fought through enemies with a ferocity that terrified even his allies, desperate to reach you. But before he could get to you, someone else did, pulling you to safety.

The relief was brief, overshadowed by guilt and frustration. He should have been there. He should have protected you. As he watched you being carried away, unconscious and bleeding, he made a vow—he would never let that happen again.

When you recovered, the physical wounds healed faster than the emotional ones. You avoided Logan, convinced that his heart still belonged to someone else, that your feelings were nothing but wishful thinking.

Better to rip the band-aid off now, you thought, than suffer more heartbreak later.

Logan noticed the distance immediately. It gnawed at him, a constant ache in his chest. You had always come to him when there was trouble, when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you just needed someone to sit with you in silence.

But now, you turned away, leaving him feeling helpless and lost.

He asked others about your condition, made sure you were okay in his own quiet way, even sat outside your room at night, listening to your breathing just to make sure you were sleeping. But the distance between you felt like an unbridgeable valley.

The tension finally became too much to bear. Logan couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

One night, he cornered you—gentle but firm, his voice low and rough. “Jean will always be a part of my past,” he said, his words heavy with truth, “but you… you’re my present, my future. I’ve been afraid of screwing this up, of losing what we have, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. You're the only one for me, and I’m not letting you slip away.”

You were stunned, tears welling up as you realized how wrong you’d been.

“I thought… I was so afraid that…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Logan stepped closer, his rough hand brushing against your cheek. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain.

The confession hung between you, fragile but true. And then, slowly, Logan leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was long overdue.

It was slow, tender, filled with all the emotions you’d both kept bottled up for too long. When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes soft and full of affection.

“You’re the only one for me,” he repeated with a whisper, his voice rough but sincere.

After that night, everything changed. The tension that had once thickened the air melted away, replaced by a quiet, comfortable closeness.

Logan became more open with his affection—small touches, lingering looks, and a new ease in your interactions. You both felt the relief of finally being on the same page, of knowing that the unspoken feelings were now shared and mutual.

Logan made sure you never doubted his feelings again. He talked more, shared more of himself, making it clear that you were the most important person in his life.

Jean was a part of his past, but you were his future, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

Thanks for requesting this!!

I hope I did it some justice. I love Jean Grey and I tried my best not to paint her in a bad light. But I know everyone's a sucker for a good love triangle hehe

[whatever-imagines]

“Princess”

Fem! Butch! Wolverine x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of y/n; some mention of Origins, Scott and reader are low key besties; repressed EVERYONE; drinking; lemme know what I missed; the fan art and everything has got me.

Did you know Logan can be a girls name? That’s why it’s unchanged.

Rated: T

——————

“Watch it, bub.” Was the first thing she ever said to you; growled out and annoyed, wearing clothes that weren’t hers, barefoot stomping through the halls of the mansion to follow Professor Xavier to the infirmary.

You were just in the way. The stranger was already irritated by the looks of things and you were too dumbstruck on how handsome you thought she looked to get out of the way in enough time. The proximity, the raspiness of her voice, it made your breath hitched and you stared unblinkingly at her retreating form and you knew; you were fucked.

You were told by a calm Scott that her name was Logan. He had put a comforting hand on your shoulder, mistaking your sudden infatuation for fear or discomfort. Scott tells you they found her after a fight with another mutant the team had been hunting down and found her, rapidly healing and unconscious next to the corpse of the dangerous mutant they were looking for. So they brought her to the mansion, to study her and ask questions.

You hear about the fights Logan has with Scott all the time, and how she always flirts with Jean and Ororo, you see her wander the halls in the school portion of the mansion, and you always give her a wide berth. Half because, in a sense, she does intimidate you; she has a powerful mutation and fierce attitude, she could easily destroy you in any kind of fight. And the other reason you avoid her is-

“Jesus, watch it, squirt!”

“I’m so sorry!” You breath out, leaning down to gather the papers that went flying after you literally ran into Logan. They were mission reports that Scott’s been demanding to see, and in your haste to bring them to the team leader, you ran into the school’s resident loner.

You steadfastly refuse to make eye contact, focusing solely on picking up the papers that were spilled. You could feel the intense brown eyes of the other woman bearing down at you, but still you refuse to look up as you sputter apologies. you felt like you could cry from how embarrassed you were but you kept a stiff upper lip.

This is why you avoid her. For this exact reason.

You don’t have an impressive mutation, a very mild healing one that only extends to saving cuts and scraps; and you spent most of that time with your mutation healing yourself because you were so clumsy. What an embarrassment to your kind, you often think. Compared to Logan, you have no real use to the team; you don’t even go out to fight, you just help organize the paperwork and manage the little things so everyone can focus on keeping others safe and bettering themselves. You’re not nearly as impressive as the woman before you.

Once most of the papers are collected, a pair of brown cowboy boots enter your field of vision, and the clearing of a throat makes you slowly raise your gaze up to Logan, the fearsome Wolverine.

At this angle, she looked gorgeous, and curious.

“I’ve seen you around.” She drawls lazily, whatever bite she had earlier gone. “You’re Scott’s secretary.”

You wince in slight annoyance. “I’m the team’s assistant. I just-“ you gesture to the papers around you. “I handle the boring stuff. Help out when I’m needed.” Grabbing the last paper you awkwardly stand up. “Heal scraped knees and alike.”

Her large hand shoots out and grabs your shoulder to steady your wobbling self. Her hand was burning hot, and you could almost feel the callouses from years of fighting and doing god knows what through the cardigan you wore. You swore you felt your stomach literally flip at the contact.

She gave you a weird look, like she couldn’t believe you were this helpless. You quickly schooled your flustered expression and made some excuse up, how Scott would be more annoying if you put off giving him these papers any longer, and you scuttle down the hall, regretfully leaving the warm hand of Logan behind.

Scott also gave you a questioning look when you slammed the door to his room shut after all but running to where he was.

“… you okay, pal?” He asked, half bemused but you could tell by his tone he was ready to be serious if needed.

You sigh, and throw the paper files at him. He caught them easily. “I’m fine I’m just-“ you sigh again. “I’m just a mess.”

—-

The third time Logan speaks to you, it’s when you’re sneaking back into the mansion after a lukewarm date. It’s not like it was a secret, but still the only people you told were the Professor, so you could get permission to leave, and Ororo, who helped you get ready while you panicked.

You quietly meander into the kitchen, just to grab a soda in the dark, when the light suddenly gets flicked on.

“You look nice.” A raspy drawl says, surprising you so bad you slam the fridge door shut.

Your head snaps to the source of the sound, and there you see Logan, face half obscured in shadows.

“Oh!” You gasp. “Thank you…” you tamper off, half ready to explain yourself but deciding it better to keep your trap shut.

The Wolverine’s head cocks sideways before speaking again. “Any particular reason for the get up?” It felt more like a question in an interrogation.

You swallow thickly, suddenly feeling very self conscious. “I had a date.”

Finally pushing herself from the wall, Logan makes her way to where you stand. “Oh?” she inquires. there’s something in her eyes that make your stomach swoop but you couldn’t put a name to it. It almost looks like jealousy, but that wouldn’t make any sense in this situation. She just must be angry you got to leave the mansion and she’s still on probation. “Have fun with him?”

Him.

The insulation leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

“She was quite boring actually.” You gently correct, pulling the tab off your soda can to open it. “An accountant or something. Kept telling me all the formulas she knew.” You mumble, bringing the drink to your lips and ignoring the way Logan’s eye bore into you.

“… don’t like the studious type?” She asks, tone playful but in the edge of something.

You’re sure to stew on your answer for a second, for whatever reason it feels like you should reply carefully. “I like reliable but not dull, if that makes sense.”

She digest your words, her eyes still staring, and you still ignoring the stare.

“You don’t look at me a lot.” Her sentence was quick and only added tension to the air. “Everyone stares-“ a hand grasps your shoulder and forces you to face her; her brown eyes leering at you, dry lips pressed into a thin line, the width of her nose scrunching slightly in irritation- “… except you.”

There’s a beat of silence. You can hear the fridge thrum with electricity, your heart thrum with anxiety.

“… it’s rude to stare.” Is all you can offer.

Logan snorts, amused or angry you don’t know, but her hot hand lets go of your shoulder and she heavily steps away.

“Smart-ass.” She chuckles, and disappears back into the shadow, the should have the keys she wears on her belt jingling away with her departure.

You breathe out slowly to calm your nerves, and sip your soda.

—-

It’s a party; a celebration of surviving another year at the school. Your anniversary. Scott makes it a big deal for you every year, as it’s his anniversary too, you and a handful of others.

“Xavier’s First Class Alumni” the banner proudly proclaims. You smile wistfully at it, happy to be where you are now but pushing the memory of how you got here out of your mind.

The cages, endless rows of cages. Scientists and doctors constantly doing rounds and taking samples like you were a computer giving off results instead of a person made of flesh and blood. There was a fight outside, something tremulous, but you had passed out from blood loss easily in the first few minutes of the commotion. You awoke to Scott cradling you as carrying you onto some extraordinary aircraft where a bald man awaited with a patient smile.

Scott was blinded by an impressive mask for safety then, not even he could tell you what had happened. Only a few who went on the ship stay with the professor, at the school. Many went back home to their families; but you stayed. And nobody could really recall how exactly they were all freed from Three Mile Island.

You’re leaning against a wall in the basement as the streamers hand low in the pulsing light of the party, deep bass music playing loudly enough to drown out most thought but not wake the children upstairs. You look to your left to see Scott and Jean laughing merrily with Kurt and Ororo and you smile.

The scent of musk fills your senses. You’re warm, incredibly warm, and the pressure of another weight against your right side. You quickly look to see Wolverine staring down at you, a beer bottle in her hand resting against her leg and the other arm propping herself over you against the wall.

“Enjoying the party?” She rasps, the bottle coming to her lips for a swig.

You watch carefully as the amber liquid passes into her mouth and she swallows, and you lick your bottom lip without realizing it.

She watches it though.

“It’s a fun thing for everyone.” You settle on saying.

She scoffs. “So you were one of the originals? Chuck’s first students?”

You shrug. “It was infinitely better than where I was.” Her bushy eyebrow quirked up in interest but you soldier on. “I’m very grateful to Professor Xavier for all he’s done to keep us safe.”

She rolls her eyes, a touch of a wild smile teases the corner of her mouth; Logan seems to be in an arguing mood and couldn’t get to Scott, so she settled on you.

“Safe, sure. Cooped up and all.” She bemoans.

And for the first time since you’ve encountered Logan, you’re… irritated with her. You pout and cross your arms, not unlike a child.

“Xavier’s done endless things to make everything better for us here.” You argue.

Your sudden passion seems to intrigue Logan. She straightens up more, once again reminding you of how small you exactly are compared to her. “How so, princess?” She growls out.

The tone was sardonic but you filed the nick name away to fantasize about later.

“Well, no one’s gabbed a needle into me without my consent since I got here 15 years ago, so that’s one thing.” You spit out, annoyed.

Logan’s face contorts ever so slightly, suddenly closed off but still watching you raptly.

“I haven’t had to hear direct death threats from everyone around me; I get to see future generations of mutats learn and grow-“ you gasp to continue your rant. “and be raised in a safe enviro-“

“Sorry.”

The singular word was delivered almost bashfully, if Logan could do anything bashful. She still staring down at you, hand in her pocket, next to her keys. The beer bottle taps her thigh absently.

No one was watching you, everyone wrapped up in their own bubbles and conversations. You vaguely hear the limbo song start playing.

You uncross your arms and tuck your chin down. “I’m sorry.” You usher out quickly.

“Don’t-“

“I got heated and I’m sorry.” You reiterate, a little more purpose behind your words.

Logan keeps staring at you, waiting. And your mouth just keeps moving.

“Everyone sees this day as a great day because the Professor found us, but to me it’s always gonna mark the day the experiments stopped. It means that something awful happened to me and it ended but it still happened and…” you trail off, one arm crossing your body to curl into yourself.

“… I know something about being experimented on.” Logan gravely states. “I’m sorry for pissing you off.” She amends.

You look up at her again, and nod. “Thanks.” You timidly respond.

She nods back.

Scott calls to you and you turn to look at him. He gestures for you to come over, and when you look back at Logan to say goodbye, she was already gone.

—-

Logan was gone for about a week after that. When she came back, everyone acted like she never left at all.

You still give her room; she’s complained before about the others “suffocating” her. But now she enters your space.

She sits as close to you as she can turn team meeting while you take the notes. She’s always in the halls you frequently use as short cuts. She always has to talk to Xavier right after you and you constantly bump into her as you leave his office.

And she always says the same thing.

“Hey, princess.”

It almost makes you crumble sometimes. But you straighten yourself out mentally and greet her back politely, and quickly rush away in fear you might make a fool of yourself again.

It eventually comes to head at some point. You mention to Ororo that you might try dating again. Maybe sign up for an online dating service if you could find a queer friendly one on the deep web. Sometime later that same day you get cornered by Wolverine.

She had just came back from a bike ride; hair wild and leather jacket over jean jacket over a men’s blue button down shirt over wife beater. Jeans still wet from the snow outside along the bottom, boot a darker color than normal.

“Lemme buy you a drink.” She says, so seriously and quickly you almost misunderstood her.

The proximity of her throws you off, you’re in some corridor not far from the garage. “I’m sorry?”

“Let. Me. Buy. You. A. Drink.” She reiterates, enunciating each word clearly enough you could identify the trace amount of her northern accent. Her arm glides up and once again she leans over you, her shadow casted on your form.

“… why?”

Her other hand comes up to your face and, with a gentleness you would not associate with the Wolverine, carefully holds your cheek in her palm, thumb on your bottom lip.

“I like your face. Lemme buy you a drink.” She asks again.

Your stomach swoops again, your ears burns with affection and you’re biting your cheek so hard as not to squeak in victory you taste copper in your mouth.

“Okay.”

She sags minutely, as if in relief.

“Thanks, princess.”

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? Part one ( logan howlett x reader)

Summary : the xmen are sent to rescue mutants in a lab , only find an unconscious young woman and couple of kids , when they bring her back to the mansion she is recognised by one of the residents . She awakes and finds out she and kids been saved wondering if it was all too good to be true ?

Warning: angsts , mentions of mutant children being abused , it's alot but there some fluff in there too , she has multiple "gifts " due to the lab . Google translated Russian so I apologise in advance if anyone has corrections feel free to leave them , grammatical errors too

It was in shambles , the outside looked desolate, void of any life and yet they knew it wasn't. The professor was never wrong with these Things . But looking at the place it looked abandoned ready to crumble To the ground into a pile of rubble and dust. Jean crouched with the rest of them she was seeking out the mutants that were held in the broken walls of the place . Shit it even had logan feeling certain Way when Charles called them to break Down the Mission . Four possibly five Kids held in a cage used like lab rats to try make their mutation Into so serum. It was always kids , parent sending them off into the world Because They were different or it scared them he never cared for the excuses , there was never an excuse to abandon or sell off your child because of something they were born with . It never sat right with him and it never would.

“ ten of the guards are heading down the basement fully loaded , we need to get in there now “ Jean Stood concerned Eyes watching every direction of the house til the sound hit , a hail of gun fire sounded off and yet not one bullet coming Near them only signal The true intent. “ we need to go she can't hold them off much longer” Jean called Running towards the house as the other followed

Logan had the door pulled out it was stronger than it appeared, and if it wasn't a race against time, they would be impressed at the faux exterior of the place . Inside was like high-end laboratory. It was also full of guards coming towards them Jean grey could easily hold them as storm Send them to the floor in a spasm before they went unconscious as logan and Scott were able to knock and sent them down to the ground with hard thud. The alarm rang out as they were Running down the hall and down the stairs into the basement , Scott was able to break the door easily with his beam sending a smirk at logan . The basement fit the exterior it was dingey and dirty , smell of mould and damp . It was not a place even a rat would stay in too Long . Right in the center was a large Cage thick metal Bars that connect From the floor to the ceiling that was not the part that surprised them . It was the thick almost tree Like vine Wall that was in the cage.

The guard turned only for Jean to raise their Own gun in the air and pull them down hitting them on head Sending them to the ground.

Scott stood forward hand at his visor ready to shoot when the redhead Stopped him , stood in front of him

“ there's kids in there, you could hurt Them “ she waved. Only as the others began To try think Of a way logan claws began cutting through the vines making Them weak enough to pull them away To see the kids all standing protectively in front Of another … Was it a woman .

“ we're here to help , we're going to take you somewhere safe” storm smiled softly holding her hand out letting the sparks flicker to show They were one of them.

“ помоги нашей сестре ( help our sister)” one finally Spoke moving So they could see the woman laid out of the ground they couldn't tell if she was breathing or not Til logan lifted Her up . She was almost lifeless But their Was a faint flicker of a pulse , a small thump of a heartbeat.

“ we need to go , get chrome Dome Ready to translate I don't think they can speak English” logan gruffed as the kids hesitantly Followed still Unsure who these strangers where but they had their sister and they had kind smiles.

The jet ride back they were able to get colossus To translate And explain to the kids they were safe but in the whole thing they didn't care all they cared for was Their sister if she would be ok , she kept them safe made sure no harm came from them.

“ she Said she made sure the bad men never got their chance To hurt them so they tried to get rid of them” even the big strong man that colossus was , they could hear that slight waver in his voice .

“Do we know who these kids are?” ororo Asked.

“ professor is working On it , he'll know more once they are here , how is the woman” .

“ barely hanging On , she dehydrated. Malnourished God only know how long she's been there ” logan said seeing how bad of shape She was in. He seen shit like this before captives During war times and shit she made them look healthy.

“ it gonna be hard to get them to Leave her” they watched as kids stood at her side once again in a protective stance.

They were right moment they got back to the mansion The kids didn't want to leave Her side as colossus came and explained It wasn't a prison they could visit her once she was checked over , once they were check Over. That still didn't work til they were brought With her. And one even went to attack when they saw Jean had a needle . It took hours for them to leave just to get cleaned up and check over .

“ their underweight but not by much ask them did they eat much” ororo asked.

“сестра следила за тем, чтобы у нас была еда и вода, и даже давала свои, если мы были голодны. ( sister Made sure we got food and water , even gave hers when we were Hungry)” one spoke up .

“ you can understand English ? Can you speak it” she asked looking at the girl who must of been no more than ten years old .

“ a little sister Teach me, so we can ask for help” she nodded .

“ do you know your names we can try find out about you guys” ororo Looked at them .

“ I'm Ana, this is lia , Henry and luka , sister is Y/N , safe here?” Ana asked softly.

“Y/n?” colossus asked looking like he'd seen a ghost before rushing out the room.

“ very safe no one will hurt you here” ororo crouch down only for Ana To flinch away.

“ we are lucky , the others were not , that made sister sad”.

“ what others ? Ana honey what others?” .

“ our other siblings they did Not make it, they took them when we sleep , sister Made them pay” Ana sniffled as ororo held Her hand.

He ran down the hall , his heart beating fast as it felt like it echoed through the walls. He nearly ran into multiple people on his way a quick sorry til he got to the medwing opening the door.

“ hey kids ok” logan asked only for piotr to ignore the man completely his eyes only looking at the bed seeing her , she was a lot different but time would do that in still in away she Looked like the same little girl he remembered .

“ hey you ok, you know her don't you ?” Logan stood coming to his side.

“ she is my little sister” he said holding her hand in his it almost looked tiny . Then again she was always tiny , she was reason his mutation happened he was saving her when a tractor almost hit her. He joined x men in hopes of settling in america bring her there then his parent told him she was in boarding school then it was she was missing then it was she was dead . He regretted that his whole life not taking her with him at first .now here she was going Through hell and back and she was alive.

It was weeks the kids became Comfortable Turned out their parent sold them to the lab they were kept in. Took hank a long time to secure them visa but he got them even for y/n who lay unconscious still. She was a mystery , they knew who she was , her age , height but as far as powers and everything else well the lab didn't go into detail on her or they couldn't . From the kids recollection she was defiant , never bending to their will they all wondered how she lasted so long or why they kept her so long . Piotr or Peter he let some call him , she was nine years old when his parent sent her away or sold her away it was too hard to even think of it , to think he left her to face all of this . Jean told him she was like him the way she put those kids before herself , how she almost killed herself to save them . A soft nod he headed off to check on the kids who knew little English and meant more to his sister than life itself he could at least make sure they were taken care of and not alone.

Bright was first thing that came to mind , it was bright before her eyes even open and when they did it stung and took a little longer to adjust . It was bright but it was clean , she wasn't tied down so it wasn't the lab … the lab … the kids . She stood uneasy at first maybe she was out longer than she thought. Looking around the room for some indication to where the hell she was , where were the kids closing her eyes and searching them in her mind she could let sigh in relief they were here . She walked to the door ready to break it down only for it to open itself her head tilting in confusing she grabbed the long doctors coat giving she had tank top and underwear on . She could sense someone approaching , the smell of whiskey and cigar filled her nose as she hid at the corner. The footstep coming to her as she lifted her palm slammed the man to the wall vines holding him in place.

“ woah at least buy me dinner first bub” he chuckled .

“ where are the kids” she glared .

“ the kids are safe , let logan go he won't hurt you , follow my voice” it called in her head making her turn and let the man drop to the ground .

“ kids safe?” she asked through her mind the walk breaking into a run. She didn't care that it was potentially a trap if it meant a sliver of hope those kids where safe. She felt the hardwood under her feet , the lab coat bellowing behind her not noticing the eyes that followed Her or the other kids around. She stood Outside a big oak door slowly opening It waiting for a trap.

“SISTER" Ana and the other ran knocking her to the ground Not that she cared . She kissed each of their heads looking at the faces that looked alot Better Before She passed out.

“ may I have a word with your sister , you can have the rest of day off to Reconnect and we can continue our lessons Tomorrow” that same voice she heard in her head now out loud and in the form of a bald man in a wheelchair. She looked to see the words on the board English Lessons , the books on the shelf and the kids outside Playing around.

“ иди я буду только на минутку ( go i'll only be a moment)” she nodded softly as the reluctantly left.

“ my Name is Charles xavier , it is good to see you up and well Y/N .

“ would Say the same but I've no Clue who you are Charles , where am I?” she walked around keeping her distance button the lab coat giving her lack of clothes .

“ my school For gift youngsters a safe Haven for people like us mutants , it's not the lab the only tests we do here are academical” he chuckled. “ my team found you and the children brought you to safety here , the kids Are very protective of you almost attack the team to keep you safe , you done Well to Take care of them” he said a sympathetic look in his eyes she could only nod at .

“ there is someone here who is eager to meet you we can talk More when You are ready truly we are only here To help” he smiled just as a Knock on the door made Her jump. ‘“ oh my dear you need not worry of money but maybe if you want you could help out with the greenhouse again if you want” Charles spoke up as she hesitantly walked to the door opening it .

Her eyes widened , her heart fell into her stomach as she looked into a face she never thought she would see again . He stood like a giant over her and yet he looked like a nervous little boy . Her hand shook as it came tracing the features of his face , he was a man now but then again she wasn't the little girl she once was either . A whurlwind of emotion that rumbled inside her she took her hand back only to close it and connect it to his face sending him down to the ground as the place went silent. She looked up to see that man again the smug one she tied up.

“ not the reunion you were expecting huh?’’ he helped him up .

“ no I was expecting this” piotr groaned rubbing his jaw.

“ ты придурок, ты бросил меня ( you're an idiot , you left me)” she yelled.

“ мне сказали, что ты в безопасности в школе(they told me your were safe at a school)” he reasoned.

“ они продали меня (they sold me)” she growled.

“ они сказали, что ты убежал и умер, я думал, ты умер, прости меня, пожалуйста ( they said you ran and you died , I thought you were dead forgive me please)” she hated how his voice broke and truly it wasn't his fault , he was young himself so she nodded and pulled him into a hug holding Him Tightly.

“ I think they made up” logan chuckled ruffling Henry's Hair .

“ sister they feed us here everyday few times its nice food ” Ana Spoke up only for her to turn see the kids looking Up .

“ cookie too” Henry beamed

“ your English is a lot better” she smiled .

“ Mr professor teach us everyday” Luka said Excitedly.

" just picking up where you left off is all " xavier bowed his head

“ hey look at you, nice to see your awake , would you come with me for a second ” a red head woman called making her head tilt stand back .

“ its ok y/n this is jean grey she is one of the teachers and one of people that rescued You” piotr whispered .

“ your the voice that day” y/n clapped Her hands looking at the woman .

“ I Can show you to your room and get you some Clothes “ jean smiled Only for y/n to be aware of how she was dress or therefore Lack of clothes with a blush to her cheeks she nodded following after the woman . “ so your like me ?” Jean asked.

“ sort of I mean I was pumped full Of stuff I don't know what else I can do” she winced.

“ well we can help with that here , when your ready” .

“ this place doesn't Feel real” she laughed looking around .

“ well It home for along as you want it to be , your not a prisoner anymore” Jean Stopped holding her hand in hers . Y/n turned her face only to see that man watching her intently before looking away .

" isn't she an interesting one " logan muttered, watching her heading up the stairs.

part two

[sergentreckless]

Hypothesis

Author’s Note: omg hi, I have been procrastinating this forever. Like I’ve had it basically all written for like a month and a half, I just refused to edit it ugh. School and work kicked my ass, so I had no energy at all. But here it is, it’s not the best thing I’ve written, but a lot of you seemed to love the teaser, so here is the finished result. If you came from the teaser, I am so so sorry I kept you waiting for so long, I love you. I hope you all enjoy! Please leave your thoughts on it, as I would love to hear what you think, and I am always looking to improve. And if you want to request anything, just send me a message lovelies!

Kisses,

Reckless

WC: 1331, she a short little baby

Summary: Scott comes home to his pretty girl on her period. This could be the perfect time to see if his theory is correct.

Warnings: domestic Scott, insinuation of sexy time, touching, feeling, loving, fluffyyyyyyy

Feeling the heavy dead bolt flip to the side of the door, Scott feels a sense of relief walking through the door frame. Yes, he loves chasing, but it’s all so over whelming. He needs time to relax, to wind down with his pretty girl resting on his chest. He always loved having you there, playing with the thick strands of hair that adorn your head. Scott would never admit to anyone just how much he loves having you so close, but it is his favorite feeling in the world. A close second is having your hands lost in his black locks, nails gently scraping over his scalp. He always melts right into your touch, the feeling of your scratches sending shivers down his spine every time. Clearly, I’ve missed her, Scott thinks to himself after envisioning the way your body rests against his.

He walks down the hallway of your shared apartment, taking large steps to get to your room as quickly as he can. Upon reaching your shared bedroom, Scott opens the door, only to be met with the sight of you curled in on yourself. The room is dark, so he thinks you might just be taking a nap. He quietly makes his way over to your bed, careful not to wake you. Trying his absolute hardest to cause the least amount of disruption, Scott delicately (at least tries to) sits himself on your shared bed, landing beside your sleeping figure. Relishing in the feeling of his muscles deflating as soon as he hits the bed, Scott feels instant relaxation. He feels so at ease, so natural, situated next to you. It’s his favorite place to be, right by your side.

He glances over at you, wanting to see your beautiful form after the long day he had. You seem at peace, only a slight furrow of the eyebrows accented on your face. What could she be dreaming about? he wonders. Hopefully something about him. Your body twitches lightly, compelling him to lay further in bed and reach an arm out, bringing you closer so he can wrap his body around yours. As Scott’s fingertips graze the soft skin of your back, you take a deep breath in and wrap your arms around his toned torso, unconsciously dragging yourself closer to his body. Desperate to feel his warmth.

His gaze on you softens. Heart melting at the adorable sight of you needing to be closer to him.  His other hand is drawn to your face, unable to resist how beautiful its structure is. Your eyes flutter open as you feel Scott’s fingers graze your cheeks. You let out a sweet sigh that morphs into a moan as you release your sleepiness into the room.

“How was your day sweetheart?” you ask, rubbing your face, trying to wake yourself up. His eyes capture yours, utterly captivated by how intense yet calm they seem.

“Full of dust and wind”, Scott quips, giving you the most minimal detail, leaving you wondering for more.

You shoot him a look, pupils dilated, making you seem far too adorable, and he immediately knows not to push you. He’ll have to refrain from poking fun at you tonight, seeing something in your eyes that gives him warning.

“It was busy” he corrects, “much better now that I am here with you.”

What a save, you giggle to yourself as you hear him quickly rephrase what he wanted to convey to you.

“How was your day, honey?”

Returning the question seems to be standard human politeness, social normity if you will, but you know he’s not asking just to be polite. He really cares. Scott wants to know every detail of your day. Being away from you to chase tornadoes is hard, he doesn’t want to miss the really important things, even if you must be apart. So, Scott has to rely on the personal detail you give him, though he always feels a little left out at the end of your stories, hating that he doesn’t play a role in every part of your life. Not that he doesn’t trust you, he just can’t stand the thought of anything happening in your life and not being there to witness it, not being a part of it… he shakes his head, chasing his blue thoughts away.

A high-pitched, drawn-out groan comes from your direction, letting Scott know the nature of your day… not great, he thinks as a frown takes over (find a word) his face. “Work was work” you breath out, “it’s just been a rough day.”

Scott can see the exhaustion on your face, reflecting the truth behind your words. His heart melts on the spot, hating it when you have a bad day. His goal since he met you has been to make sure every day was the most wonderful day of your life.

Outliers… as a scientist, he hated them and hoped that today had just been one for you. “m’just in a lot of pain Scotty,” you whined out, hoping he would know what you were getting at so you didn’t have to go through the embarrassment of saying it out loud.  

“Oh honey..” he spoke softly, remembering how late in the month it was. He tightened his arms around you, giving you a soft, snug squeeze. There is nothing in the world that could ever explain the comfort of his muscular arms squeezing your body tightly against his. It felt like home, like being surrounded by the warmest, softest blanket you had ever felt.

Gently squirming to adjust as your lower half tightens, you shift closer into Scott’s form, catching a whiff of his spicy cologne and that minty gum you always kept stored for him. New packs of gum always appeared in Scott’s console, even when he was sure he had enough. How curious, new packs of gum showing up when he’s running low. Looking at you, he cant’t help but think of how perfect you were. You know him inside and out, so well that you know when he is about to run out of the thing he generally uses to keep his mouth busy. It’s certainly not his favorite thing to use to occupy himself, but you aren’t always there for him to devour, much to his dissatisfaction. You treat him so well, such an angel you are.

Scott’s hand reaches down, fingers grasping your chin, tilting it up to bring your gaze to his. You just can’t get over how intense the eye contact is, his beautiful blue eyes staring down at yours, asking a million questions, but speaking one certain truth. He loves you. Oh boy, does he just love you so much. Looking down at you, he is overwhelmed by the love he feels for the delicate creature cradled in his arms. Scott wants nothing more than to hold you there forever, keeping you safe and secure in his loving embrace. But your body has other plans, cramps suddenly plaguing your fatigued frame. As your body squirms, Scott can’t help but grab you, pressing your front into his to try to provide some relief in any way he can.

“Hey sweetheart…”

You softly moan in response to him.

“… I might be able to help you with those cramps…” he said, looking down at you bashfully, yet a smirk still plastered on his face, a clear insinuation.

“Yeah? And how do you plan on doing that?” you tease, feigning ignorance.

“You know, someone told me sex can help ease the pain… and I would love to test that theory with you,” he responds, hands slowly migrating lower until he finally rests them on your ass, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze.  Meeting his gaze and batting your eyelashes at him was a sure sign that you were happy to give this idea of his a go. After all, who would you be to deny a scientist from collecting data to confirm his hypothesis.

[stereksimp]

I am currently thinking about one of my headcannons where Claudia was completely feral as a mother. She is the one who taught Stiles how to pick locks, break into place, be stealthy, and the like. When she died, Stiles refused to use the skills she taught him until finally, one day, when Hunters kidnapped his pack, he remembered his mom's teachings.

Something snapped in him when he found out, his mother's voice echoing in his mind, telling him to cause chaos and mischief. Everything he learned slid right back into place like a second skin.

He gets Danny to find out where they went as he prepped. Once he was ready, he slipped into the shadows towards his pack. When he arrives, nobody knows. The wolves hear his heart beat and smell him, but they can't see him, and he is making no noise as systematically each and every Hunter falls. As the last hunter tips forward unconscious, Stiles finally shows himself, with a smirk he frees his pack.

Everyone is struck silent by what just happened and just stares at Stiles like they have never seen him before until Scott finally speaks up.

Scott: Heyyyy buddy. We're all good. You saved us. See.

Erica: Damn Batman, when did you get so badass?

Issac:

Boyd:

Derek:

Stiles stands there on guard, staring at them almost like he can't quite understand what they are saying until his alpha speaks up.

Derek: Stiles. You did well. You saved us. Why don't you rest for a bit while we clean up?

Stiles blinks back to awareness and a smile spreads across his face.

Stiles: Sure thing Sourwolf.

After everything calms down the betas and Derek all gather in Stiles' room to find out where they fuck that came from. He tells them all about his mom and everything she taught him and why he didn't use any of the skills until now. Scott is the only one there who knows since he grew up with Stiles, but he was still floored with how scary he got.

[luverine]

Leon Scott Kennedy x Fem! Reader

18+ // 0.9k words // porn no plot // Leon can’t sleep, he’s too horny! // request

Leon was restless.

The rain had been falling for two days, casting a dark and grim veil over everything. Sleep escaped him as memories of the past raced through his mind, leaving him wanting for a moment’s peace.

All night, he tossed and turned, on the verge of breaking.

But then he turned his head to the other side of the bed, and there you were.

You, the one thing in his life that’s never left, the one thing worth surviving for, “Pretty,” He whispered to your unconscious self.

He moves closer, sliding an arm beneath you and softly pulling you into his embrace, cradling you tenderly.

Groaning you shuffle as you are awoken from being disturbed in your sleep. “What?” You grumble, rubbing your eyes.

“Go back to sleep, I wasn’t trying to wake you up.” He moves stray hairs out of your face, giving you a tight squeeze.

You let out a huff, laying your head in his neck, taking in Leon’s scent.

Your hot breath on his neck, sent a tingle down his spine, thoughts of all the nights spent together ran through his head.

He felt his shorts tighten as you nestled closer, leg straddling his hip, your warm breath on his skin, trusting him completely, finding comfort in him.

Grabbing you face and bring your face in for a kiss you wake up as he pulls your legs around to straddle him

He cups your face, pulling you in for a kiss. As he draws you closer, you wake up to find your legs wrapped around him, straddling him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Leon rubs your sides, caressing your skin though your nightshirt.

You sigh at the soft feeling of his affection, you can feel a bulge beneath you- “are you hard right now?”

“I told you, I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmurs, his lips trailing from your collarbone to your neck in a tender, lingering kiss.

“Leon, let me have you,” you whisper, grinding your hips against him. Leon tenses, a low groan escaping his lips, his breath hitching at your boldness.

“You have me,” he murmurs, twisting you onto your back. Drawing you close, he captures your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

You trail your hand down to touch him, feeling the pulse of arousal ripple between you, a wave of desire intertwining the both of you.

Leon grabs your hand pulling it up grinning at you, he lifts your shirt, caressing your soft skin feeling your breasts.

Leon catches your hand, pulling it up smirking. He lifts your shirt slowly, his fingers gliding over your soft skin as he cups your breasts, caressing them.

“Leon-“ you moan, your voice trembling as the spikes of pleasure surge through you.

“You like that, don’t you?” he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, savoring the sight of your flushed face and the curves of your beautiful body.

Arousal clouds his mind as he gently slides off your panties, revealing your slick, pulsing pussy, eager and ready for him.

Leon groans, resting his head on your chest, his ear pressed close to your heartbeat. “You’re making it impossible to tease you.”

You smirk, arching your hips to brush against the hardness straining through his shorts. Your hands explore his arms and bare chest, fingers teasing the firm muscles. “Good,” you whisper, a playful glint in your eyes. “I want you inside me.”

His breath hitched, your words were playing with him. Giving you a show he slides his shorts off leaving him naked, he climbs back on top of you body against body.

He teases you, barely brushing your pussy, his finger grazing your clit with the lightest touch, a ghost has more touch.

“Please, Leon-” Your plea is cut off as he slowly slides his thick, girthy cock into you, the sensation taking your breath.

Leon sees stars dancing in his vision as the intoxicating warmth of being inside you takes over. He feels the tension melt away, leaving him utterly relaxed in your bliss.

You gently arch your hips to meet his thrusts, moving together in a sensual harmony, it felt too good.

“It’s been too long,” Leon grunts, his shiny blue eyes locking with yours, filled with love.

Whimpering you nod, “I know baby, I missed you-“ Leon speeds his thrusts caging you in his strong arms.

“Leon, I can’t-” you moan, your voice trembling. “Do it, fucking come.” With a growl, Leon moves faster, pushing you both toward the edge.

A loud moan escapes the both of you, gushing around him, squeezing his length, as he unloads his seed deep inside you.

“Perfect.” Leon huffs catching his breath, pulling out of you, he stands up heading to the connected bathroom to get a cloth cleaning the mess you made on each other.

Leon tosses the cloth into the hamper before slipping back into bed, pulling you close, your bodies pressed together, heart to heart. The air, thick with humidity, and the connection between you buzzes with electricity.

“I love you,” you murmur against his chest, giving him a small peck against his collarbone. “I love you too,” he whispers into your hair, sleep taking you as Leon admires everything you are.

With you by his side, Leon feels a deep sense of love and peace. He wishes every day and night could be spent with you, his one and only, his comfort.

He closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. Letting sleep finally wash over him.

⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖ ⌖

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