Duel wielding Cotl and Marvel

I really think I should change the title since they haven't been drunk for the last 5 parts but oh well it's stuck now

Summary: You and Logan have been able to move past all that has happened, and slowly you two are becoming closer. Maybe the quicker than the two of you believe at first

Word Count: 2.9k+

Tags: fluff, friendly fighting, almost a confession

After your late night meeting you and Logan attempted to be civil. The unease between the two of you had disappeared but you still felt unsure about where you stood with him.

He was compassionate but he was like that with everyone at the mansion. His anger and standoffish attitude was a stark contrast to his compassionate moments. Logan wasn't an asshole, but he wasn't the easiest guy to get along with. These two personality traits of his clashed but someone how balanced him at the same time.

The two of you nodded at each other as you passed in the halls. You sometimes visited him between classes but not often. You were making an effort to try and get yourself out there but it was all new to you. And you still didn't want to get in anybody's way or cause any problems. The habit of acting like you didn't exist for other people convenience was a hard one to break. But Logan's words had really hit where it mattered and you were trying to take it on board.

What he said about everyone having at least one person to stick by was something you thought about often. And you guessed that you chose Logan. It wasn't unexpected perse but more of a risk. Because you didn't know if he would choose you back. In your head it was like an unrequited friendship...but he had approached you first. So maybe it wasn't unrequited? You didn't know. And it hurt your head to think about it too much.

Logan was glad to see you around more often. Not ignoring him anymore. He didn't know why it bothered him so much but it just did. And he was glad that you didn't seem so sullen around the halls. You were by no means happy go lucky or bubbly...not at all. But he did notice a change. You held your head a little higher. You went out of your way to say hello to the kids that passed by you. Even bringing coffee to Storm and Scott during their lessons.

You brought him a "coffee" once as well at the break between his last lessons of the day. The coffee was in fact whiskey disguised in a coffee mug and he was quite surprised when you handed it to him with a finger pressed silently to your lips. You didn't bother to stick around. But he understood the sentiment behind the gesture. The change was evident in and of itself. He wasn't going to push you. He knew how hard you were trying already.

One night, a sleepless night like usual, you were out in the garden again. This time wandering around by the orchard towards the back of the school. The trees weren't in bloom yet but their leaves were green and full of life so you knew it wouldn't take long. You were tired, you felt exhausted but your brain was wired which made your body buzz. How those two things worked you didn't know, they just did. Maybe it was because the fatigue had set in really badly and your body was overcompensating with adrenaline. Probably not a good sign but like every other night you ignored it.

From behind you you heard a twig snapping and you turned to see Logan walking towards you in the moonlight. You hoped he would come see you again at night but he hadn't since that evening.

Logan looked at you as he walked with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He watched as you turned to look at him. You arms resting on the fence dividing the properties.

"Hey" you called softly

"Can't sleep?" He asks in response

"Yup, thinking about too much I guess. Too...pent up" you say sighing

"About what?"

You tapped your nose "That's for me to know" you say cheekily but it's half hearted, 'and you to find out' you finish the phrase in your head. You didn't like it when he pried. But a small part of you wished he did. So you would have an excuse to tell somebody about what was on your mind. But considering the first time he'd done that it ended in disaster, he didn't ask.

He let out a small laugh, the type that only goes out your nose in one puff of breath.

Logan joins you on the fence. The two of you stand in silence together as the wind makes the trees rustle and your hair being pushed to the one side, your fringe being pushed off your head.

Logan's cowlicks remained umoved as the wind continued to blow.

You watched him as his eyes flowed over the branches of trees in front of you. He was rushing the view before him.

His brown eyes were beautiful in the moonlight, lighter than normal in contrast to the blue light that the moon gave off. In the sunlight they were like whiskey but in the moonlight they were like tigers eye jemstones. Deep and rich with hints of gold, only revealing itself in certain lights.

They were breath taking. All of his feature were. His curly brown hair, his mutton chops that dulled the sharpness of his jaw but framed his face. Their was a tiredness to his face that outweighed the boyish charm his face still held. You didn't know much about Logan's past. But you could tell that he had been through enough to age him years more than he was.

Logan turned his head and caught you staring.

"The view is in front of us, bub"

You blink and look away, staring far into the distance instead. You sigh and cursed yourself self for getting distracted. What was wrong with you?

Suddenly Logan nudge you in the side with his elbow "C'mon, let's spar for a bit"

"Now? Won't that wake everyone?"

"Not in the danger room it won't"

He smirks at you and pushes away from the fence walking back towards the mansion. After a moment's hesitation you follow him

The two of you walk through the manor, passing no one on your way, taking the elevator down to the war room and down the hall to the Danger room. The flashy X door turns and opens and the two of you step inside. Logan fiddles with the computer for a moment until the room transforms into a forest landscape. The trees are corporal to the touch. It was incredible.

You would have to ask Hank someday how he did it.

Logan walks away from the computer as it disguises itself in the landscape it created. He turns to face you and pulls off his jacket discarding it by a tree which he marks with a single claw scratch.

You roll your neck trying to get the kinks out of it, knowing your head will have to be on a swivel with Logan.

He purposefully picked a landscape that he would be more accustomed to. You’d lived in the city all your life, even when you were shunned you stayed in the slums on the streets. Skulking in back alleys. You knew the concrete jungle. Not the real one

Logan cracks his knuckles flexing his fingers as he protracts his claws.

You watch as the skin in between his knuckles splits open, you think about how painful that must be for him. You cringe internally.

"You ready bub?"

"Yeah, bub. Just don't go easy on me. I'm not as fragile as you might think"

He smirks and gets down low. You roll up the sleeves of your flannel and bring your arms up into a defensive position.

He makes the first move. Running at you full speed, you counter by sliding between his legs, he attempts to stab you as you go down but misses. You jump up and give him a light kick in the back.

He turns to you and growls though the smirk hasn't left his lips.

He lunges for you again this time making a fake right and then spinning left to slash at you. You doge out of the way of his attack but he nick's your arm. The not too deep gashes appear and disappear on your arm.

"Is that all you got?" You goad him, an almost flirtatious tone to your voice.

Both of you were becoming hot and bothered as you fought. The sweat dripped off his face as it soaked through his tank top, sticking it to his chest. You had pulled off your flannel at some point and discarded it by the same tree Logan had his leather.

You continue to leap for him, repaying his onslaught with your arms up for defence and your legs out to attack.

Logan is clearly in his element as he evades your futile attempts at attacks. You hadn't been able to land a worthwhile blow yet but he hadn't knocked you down either.

Logan was dodging behind trees, swinging from low branches and kicking off the trunks to give him a height-advanced attack. He's fast and it takes all your concentration to turn and counter his attacks.

At one point he disappears from sight and you look around frantically. Panting hard from the half hour you are sure has passed by.

You turn looking this way and that but in the split second you face your back to him Logan leaps at you and knocks you to the ground. The force of his body weight slamming into yours sent you to the leaf strewn ground with a hard thud.

He stood over you as you tried to jump up. Holding a set of claws to your face

You keep your hands up, breathing hard as he breathed equally as hard over you. The two of you stay there for a while. Logan isn't continuing the fight but you aren't ready to give up.

Logan was right a fight was a good idea but now you were pent up in other ways. Every time Logan had pushed you around or you had countered his attacks the touches sent shivers down your spine amongst the warmth that flooded your body from the exercise.

You were enjoying Logan's company but maybe more than just as a good sparring partner. You had to admit that Logan was pretty easy on the eyes. And not too bad looking disheveled from the exercise either.

More than once you had caught yourself looking at his toned arms and tight chest. And not just because he happened to be attacking you with full force.

But Logan had been noticing the same things about you. Each time you managed to land a punch. Even if it was weak he felt pride and even some joy in the fact that he could finally spar with someone he didn't have to hold back with.

Your hair was darker than usual and flat to your head. Your body was almost as tonned as his and he started to understand why he got so many looks whenever he wore something semi tight.

You were quite handsomely built. Not that he let that distract him.

Ok maybe it did a little bit. He wondered what you would look like with your shirt off. He hoped that maybe if he ran you around enough you would over heat and take it off.

His heart had skipped a beat when you took your flannel off to inadvertently show your arms off.

As he stood over you he panted watching the way your eyes flicked over his body. He was waiting for you to concede. Not making you give up but giving you the option.

You took the third option. You grabbed the arm pointed at you and pulled with all your might. You brought your foot up and pushed into his stomach. Using the momentum to lift him up and over your head and onto his back. You scrambled onto him to hold him down.

You might just win this fight.

You allow all your body weight to push him into the fake earthen ground. Holding his hands by his head so he couldn't scratch you and keeping your legs squeezed against his waist so he couldn't move his hips too much. You didn't want him pulling a move on you.

It was your turn to look down at him now.

And damn did he look good in this position

Logan was inclined to agree. He swallowed hard as he looked up into your face. Now that he was closer he could see the light stubble that was growing across your jaw. The specks of hair on your cheeks and above your upper lip.

It gave you that edge to your look and he found it quite attractive.

You watched as his eyes twitched as he looked at your face. Moving his eyes only as far as they needed to go to scan your face.

"Do I win?" You ask cockily a smirk being pulled into your face

The two of you pant roughly and it takes him a minute to respond.

"Dunno, are you finished bub? Or do you wanna go a round two?"

This conversation was beginning to sound less like sparring and more like something else.

The adrenaline from this fight was melting away any lack of confidence you had. Replacing it with stoic triumph and gall.

"I bet you'd like that wouldn't you. Be able to top me for real if I was tired out from another round"

The words left your mouth but as you said them you heard them echo in your head and you felt a warmth creep up your neck that had nothing to do with the sparing.

This was getting out of hand and you were starting to question your choices. You let go of Logan and stood up. Stepping away from him.

He has the same slight scowl in his face as he always does but you thought you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

Logan was indeed disappointed. Not only in the space you had created between the two of you but how your bravado from before suddenly withered away like a flower doused with poison.

He watched as you turned away and walked to pick up your flannel and he followed. He wasn't going to let you walk off on him this time. Especially when something was going on now.

He had seen that glint in your eyes even if it was brief. Something was happening here and he was going to confront you about it.

He realised now why you allured him so much, why he was desperate to keep track of you after that night at the bar. Hell why he had followed you to that barnin the first place.

Yes alright he admits it he followed you.

As you bend over to scoop up your jacket and hand Logan's back to him you turn to see him inches from your face.

In surprise you take a step back and bump into the tree.

He leant forward and put a hand on the trunk by your head and the other by your hip

"Why do you keep running from me?" Logan asks. His voice low.

His face is so close to yours you could have counted the individual hairs of his mutton chops.

You swallowed and he watched as your Adams apple bobbed with the movement.

"You can let people in you know. It sure as hell ain't easy, I know."

You had no idea why Logan was so close. Why was he confronting you like this again? Why were his eyes were the prettiest thing you had ever seen?

You startled yourself with that thought and had to look away, turning your head to the side. But then you were startled once more as his calloused hand pulled at your chin softly turning your head back to face him.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. A somber tenderness in your voice. Like you were a lost child or an injured creature.

And maybe you were. A mutant with a dark past could be likened to that of a downed bear.

"I told you. I can't get close to people"

He cocked his head and let go of your chin

"You seem pretty close to me. And you didn't seem to unhappy about me joining you outside either. That's more than anyone else here has done"

You press your back harder against the tree as he moves into your space even more. All the while without touching you.

"...sometimes there are exceptions" you whisper as you continue to look at his eyes. He was so close you could see your own reflection in them. It was confronting.

He was confronting. He was standing in your space and you were letting him. This time he didn't even have to hold you to keep in place. Given the choice you wouldn't have moved anyway.

Logan's eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. He could smell the deep rich tones in your scent this close. The salt and the earth mixed with your musk from all the training. He watched as your eyes glistened in the artificial light from the danger room.

He studied every inch of your face like it was a master piece crafted by Michelangelo himself. And to Logan you were. As detailed as the marble he carved but as hardy as it too. Almost impenetrable on contact.

"Am I your exception?" Logan asks bringing his face closer to yours and lowering his voice even more. The bass of his tone mixed with the quietness of voice.

"Because I think your mine"

Logan knew now you were something special to him. Like human magnetism that pulled him towards you. Even if he wanted to pull away he couldn't. He should have noticed when you first joined the team but he only fully understood now.

And you understood why you sought his attention and his approval at first. Logan inspired you as a hero and as a person. But it was so much more than that, he was alluring and too hard to stay away from.

That's why you had to leave that night, to drink away any and all feelings. Because in the end they all came back to Logan.

"Just let me in, please" he whispered. His breath hitting your lips as he spoke

Oh yes I am being that bitch. You guys are going to have to wait for part 6 for me to get to juicy stuff. I am going to drag this out as long as possible hahah!

Part 6 is here! (finally)

Ive got a few ideas and requests for some more DP and Wolverine content but I wanna know what you guys are interested in seeing

I kid you not I rewrote this 4 fucking times before I was happy with it. But it's finally here. So enjoy. It's a bit of a slow burn I will say but stick with me. We will get there soon enough

@oktcunez @fictionallymarried @a-short-ass-disappointment @generalgoldfishldrm @moth-eats-paper

Summary: A week had gone by and you were ignoring Logan. It was for the best. The less space you took up the better it would be for everyone. But Logan didn't agree.

Word Count: 1.2k+

Tags: comfort, fluff, arguing, Corney family crap, platonic (for now)

A week goes by and you do your best to ignore Logan. Keeping your head down, completing your tasks and trying to stay as busy as possible by working with the children. Helping them to adjust to their new life. To get a handle on their powers or just keep them company in a strange but welcoming environment.

You saw Logan often, teaching his history class and walking about the halls. You caught him looking at you on multiple occasions but you either started him down or made your way out of his line of sight.

What had happened between the two of you had created a rift. How that was possible when there was nothing to disrupt in the first place you didn't know. But there was tension between you two. Anytime you are in the same vicinity the tension was so thin you could have cut it was a butter knife.

You just hoped he didn't plan on confronting you about it. You could deal with this uncomfortable mess between the two of you, but you couldn't deal with what would come if you tried to unpack what happened.

Much to your frustration you think about that night often. Regretting the entire night and every choice you made since.

It's not like you wanted to avoid Logan, but you had been such an emotional idiot you couldn't stand to be around him. You were embarrassed for yourself, everything that happened that night was never have supposed to come out. No one was ever supposed to see you angry and resentful like that. No one was supposed to get close to you. If they did you always ended up hurting them. And no one was supposed to know about your past or what happened to you.

Those were your rules. They kept you safe.

But your shell had been cracked. And Logan knows, he doesn't know every thing. But he knows more than you wanted anyone to know.

Another day goes by and after you help usher the children to bed you head outside to the gardens.

You hadn't been sleeping well so most nights you wandered about the garden. Not making it inside until the first days light had already started to illuminate and lift the veil of night.

Logan had noticed too, every night for the last week he'd listen to you walk around the halls and outside. Hear the click of the door and your foots steps down the concrete. He knew he shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that, but after the bar he didn't trust you to be alone.

At first he was apprehensive, believed you were repeating the actions of that night when no one was around. But that wasn't the case. You seemed more calm when you were outside. Often just standing out in the wind. Letting your hair get blown about your face.

He kept his distance, he knew you didn't want to talk to him. That much was clear. And he realised now how far he might have overstepped.

But for some reason tonight was different. After watching you for a while, he saw as you sit down on the stone edge of the fountain. You looked peaceful, the most relaxed he had seen you...ever.

He needed to talk to you about what happened that night.

So he followed you outside and approached you as you sat on the fountain.

You heard as someone walked down the steps to the garden and you groaned internally as you watched Logan walk towards you. The time had come, you were going to have to talk about your fuck up from the other night. You watched and waited as he approached you and sat down a respectable distance from you.

"Come to talk to me now that you're sure I'm sober?" you ask pettily

"I came to see if you were ok" he said, deciding to ignore your snark.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"So painting walls with blood is a past time of yours then?" he counters you

You roll your eyes "Logan what do you want? You wouldn't leave me alone at the bar and then you followed me down the alley and now after a week of me ignoring you, you come back to check in on me"

"I told you, I wanted to see if you were ok"

"And I told you I'm fine. End of discussion"

"Someone who's fine doesn't act the way you do"

"Oh yeah? Because you know me so well"

"I know that people who are fine don't go around punching walls, I know that someone who's fine doesn't stay up until the AM without sleeping for days at a time. I know someone who's fine doesn't spend every waking moment trying to keep themselves busy"

How did he know you had been staying up at night? Has he been watching you more than you thought?

"Ah I see, we'll I guess you've got me figured out then, why do you even need to ask me?" you were getting irritated, you had never met someone more persistent or patient than Logan. Most people would have socked you one or deemed you a lost cause by now.

"I don't actually, and that's the point. I need to know that you are ok"

"Why? Why do you care so much about me?"

"Because everyone at the school brings with them some heavy baggage. And I'm guessing you are no different. But unlike everyone else here you haven't found a single person to stick by. Jean has Scott, Kurt has Storm, and Rouge has Billy. But you keep your distance"

"So? Maybe I'm just better off alone"

"If that were the case you wouldn't be here"

You knew he was right, if you had been so great on your own then you would still be roaming the streets living off charity and keeping your head down from soldiers still looking for you.

"I just- people don't want me around. So if I don't have to take up space, I won't. It's easier when I can go about my business unnoticed. I don't disturb anyone"

Logan's brows furrowed, why come here then if you didn't want to be around people?

"But that plan went out the window at the bar that night"

And then it clicked, the reason you were quiet, hardly ever collaborated on missions and were avoiding Logan all this time. You were avoiding him, not because you actually wanted to, but because you believe that you would be a bother if you were around him. You were angry that your emotions had gotten the better of you, and believe that you would be less of a burden by staying out of Logan's way so that he could forget about it.

"You don't have to push people away, in the X Men we care for each other. Like a Corney rom com type family. And you are not the exception"

Logan's words gave you a pang right next to your heart. It had been longer than you could remember that someone had shown such genuine care and compassion. Even if Logan articulated it strangely, the message got through. And you felt touched. You heart swelled and so did your eyes as tears resurfaced in them.

As you stayed silent Logan couldn't tell how you were taking his words so he assumed he had overstayed his welcome. He stood up and began to walk away, as he turned away the words climbed up your throat and you called after him.

"Logan!... Thank you"

He smiled and nodded his head and made his way back into the mansion.

And so began your unlikely friendship with The Wolverine

Here we go! We are slowly getting somewhere. If you would like to be notified of future chapters follow me and comment asking to join the tags.

I also take requests so shoot me an ask if you have something in particular you would like to see.

Part 4 here!

Reblogged from my writing blog

Summary: Being a mutant was hard enough as it is, but being on trans on top of that. Well, you might as well be cursed. Luckily Logan has your back when it counts the most.

Word Count: 2.1k

Tags: misgendering, dysphoria, transphobia, comforting, fluff, slurs

You were in charge of the supply run for the school this week. It was always strange carrying around Charles’ credit card, over the years he had been able to invest in stocks- knowing when they would dip and rise, he had amassed money from government funding and social projects, as well as working many jobs over the decades he has been alive so he had more than enough money to provide for all of the children at his school, but still the sum baffled you.

But if it meant that the school could stay stocked and at the highest capacity to care for the children, and the teachers living in the school then you didn’t think on it too hard.

You went about grabbing what you needed by the handful and stocking your trolley. Even grabbing a few extra things for you and Logan. Any time you had been on shift to go for the supply run you made sure to grab some extra snacks for Logan and you to keep in your room. You grabbed a bag of Skittles for yourself and some Recess cups for Logan (you had no idea how he could stand eating those).

As you were grabbing some breakfast cereals to stock the cabinet with you overheard a group of people whispering behind you. You turned and out of the corner of you eye saw them pointing at you as they continued to talk

“Why does she look like that? She looks like some cringe teenager?”

“Who does she think she’s fooling with that hair cut?”

“She was probably in prison and is growing it out”

Their voices were hushed but sounded like thunderclaps in your ears

She

She

She

You dropped the box of cereal you were holding, it made a skittering sound as it crunched on the floor. Your heart rate increased as their words reverberated around your mind, your chest tightening and not from your binder. Why today?

“Young miss? You dropped this” A middle-aged lady come into your view as you stared at the box on the floor, its bright logo staring you in the face. It’s mascot smiling gleefully. Her hand came into view as she picked up the box and handed it back to you. Trying to snap your self out of your downwards spiral you smiled sheepishly at her but the smile didn’t meet your eyes.

“Thank you” you took the box and shoved it into your cart. She smiled back at you and continued with her own shopping

The group from before were now snickering at you, before you could grab the last box you needed and head to the checkout the tallest boy in the group threw a packet of biscuits at you and said “Hey tranny, shouldn’t you be in the circus or something?”

The whole group laughed but you just stared. You turned around to face them, glaring them down with as much hate you could muster. All of it was controlled like a grenade ready to explode, the blast steadily building with each second passing as the chemical reaction grew inside the chamber.

Right now, it was anger, bubbling and building but never exploding. All the rage being pent up as you walked towards the checkout. Your feet felt heavy, your footsteps echoing more than last time as you stomped down the isles. Your heart beat fiercely but you looked on blankly, your eyes seeing but not processing what was in front of you. You just wanted to get out of here and get home. Go back to the school and hide away.

Deep down you just wanted to be seen. Being a mutant was hard enough as it was, having to keep a secret from the world and everyone who would ever know you outside of the school. And now, no matter how hard you tried the world still didn’t see you how you were. As a young boy, just like any other human.

But you weren’t, you weren’t and you would never be. Because society decided to define you based on your internal organs and bone structure. Just thinking about it made you irritated. That notion occupied your thoughts quite often and it angered you, all this hate and bigotry towards a group of people because they were simply different. Why did everyone else get to decide your fate? Why did they get to decide who you were and who you were supposed to be? It was bullshit.

As you drove back to the school you anger leaked out. It showed in the whites of your knuckles as you gripped the steering wheel. In the crease at the top of your nose in between your two brows. In the speedometer on your car screaming higher and higher as you broke the speed limit two times over, your foot flat to the floor on the pedal.

As you pulled into the gravel driveway the car screeched to a stop as you cut the ignition and yanked of your seat belt, opening the door with more force than necessary and slamming it shut with equal strength.

You began grabbing bags out of the trunk and bringing them to the kitchen. Leaving them with a few of the kids who smiled and thanked you as they began unpacking the bags you placed on the bench. Their smiles were genuine and warm as they helped you put the items away. You went back for the last bag and as you shut the boot and took a step away from your car you turned and came face to face with Logan. Almost bumping directly into him. You jumped and almost dropped the bag

“Jesus Logan, we need to get you a bell or something”

He chuckled but looked playfully disgusted by the idea.

“I’m not a cat” he laughs at you

“Well you already have the ears and the claws” you say pointing at the curls in his hair.

He laughs and gives you a punch in the arm as he reaches forward to take the bag from your hand. But you don’t let him take it. Usually you would have let him help you but today you didn’t.

It was stupid really, the reason you held onto he bag. The masculine clique of being strong and being able to provide had entered your mind on the way home, all the overcompensating masculine cliques imaginable had played out in your mind as you tried to combat the dysphoria that was consuming your brain.

He tilted his head at you when you pulled away from him but he didn’t press you any further. He walked along side you as you took the last of the groceries to the kitchen and put them away with the help of the few kids that were still unpacking the bags. You moved through the kitchen in a whir, putting things in their place at record time and then depositing the bags back into your car before walking back inside.

Now with nothing to do you felt to wired, to unoccupied. You didn’t want to talk about what was on your mind. You were to mad about. But slowly that anger began to dissolve. The feeling hollowing out your chest, taking up space and crushing your organs.

You had managed to evade Logan in your flurry around the kitchen, not that you meant to but you just weren’t thinking. Your mind was so full but blank. Like TV screen playing static. Numbly you walked to your shared room with Logan, you pulled off your shirt and looked at yourself in the mirror with your binder on. There was a slight pudge out the arm holes from the extra weight your binder couldn’t hold. You didn’t get it. You looked like a boy, like any other man you might have seen on the street. So how did they know? How were you still being misgendered? The thought made you angry again and you glared at yourself in the mirror, getting mad at your own face for betraying you. You pulled your binder up over your head. But because you hadn’t been careful to pull up from the arms first it got stuck, with your arms caught at an awkward angle

You tried to grab at the binder but couldn’t pull it up and over your head. You heard a knock on the door, and you ducked out of view, turning around so that your back faced the door as Logan’s voice accompanied the previous knocking. “Hey, you good?”

You sigh frustratedly, how was this the third time this week you had been caught like this “No…I’m stuck, again”

The door opened and clicked shut quickly as you heard Logan walk up behind you.

“Trying to get it off, or back on?”

You contemplated telling him you were putting it back on, but you had been wearing it for 6 hours already and you ribs were hurting, you knew you were pushing your limits. You sighed and told him to help you take it off.

Gently he grabbed onto the fabric and pulled it over your head, making sure to keep his hands away from your skin as much as possible as he freed you from your predicament.

You snatched your hoodie off the end of your bed and pulled it back on. Adjusting it so your body underneath was hidden, and your curved figure became blocked out and flatter.

He looked at you as you adjusted you hoodie with a sad and now knowing smile on his face.

“What happened” he asked softly

You stopped fussing with your shirt and you looked at him. All the anger from before was completely gone, and instead, the was replaced with the sting of sadness and the feeling of tears welling up behind your eyes.

You bit the inside of your cheek hoping that it would deter the tears in your eyes, but it didn’t. You didn’t know how to explain it, you didn’t want to say it to him. You felt pathic and you were embarrassed, but your heart ached.

It shouldn’t have bothered you but it did, and you didn’t know how to tell him

“Why don’t they see me” you couldn’t explain what had happened but you didn’t need to. He got the gist of it.

He pulled you forward into him softly, holding you against him and locking his arms around your back. Keeping you pressed closed to his chest. Your head resting right over his heart. The organ beating rhythmically and acting as a metronome that was grounding you.

The sound of his life brought you calmly back to earth, bringing you here into the moment, pulling you out of the hole you had been spiralling down. His deep long breaths added to the grounding atmosphere that he had created between the two of you. Those negative feelings were slowly fading away from you, the same way that mud and filth dripped down your fingers as you washed your hands clean of it.

It fell away from you and left you feeling clearer, lighter and calmer.

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply following the rhythm he set naturally and took it in, leaving behind the past hour and reveling in the comfort of this moment. Appreciating every moment you could take with him, basking in the glow that radiated from him whenever the two of you were together.

And in this moment, everything faded away except the two of you. And all of that pain and anger and fear melted away.

He placed a kiss on the strands of your hair and then rested his chin on your head.

“You will always be one of the strongest, most capable men I’ve ever met. And anyone who doesn’t see that is a joke”

You pulled away so you could look at him, and your eyes softened, you could see the pure unbridled love in his face as he looked at you. He cupped your face and pulled you in for a kiss, and that last bit of negativity slipped away from you.

Who cared about what other thoughts of you, they didn’t know you and they didn’t matter. Logan knew you, and he loved you however you were. He would never let you forget that because when he had met you at Charles’ school there was no doubt in his mind that you were the most beautiful man he had ever seen.

And that feeling never changed, each time he saw you no matter what state you were in or what you were wearing, each and every time, you would always be beautiful.

It didn’t matter what your body looked like under your clothes; it didn’t matter what society said you were supposed to be. All that you were, in its truest form, was more than he could have ever asked for in a partner. It didn’t matter to him that you were transgender because you were you. And that was enough for him, he hoped one day that you would be enough for you too.

This one goes out to all of my trans brothers out there, keep fighting boys. You've made it this far you can keep going!

And once again, I take requests. If you would like a one shot like this one or any of my other works then send me an ask!

You guys were hounding me like crazy for the next part so here. I whipped this one up for you. Get it whilst it's hot and fresh! @oktcunez @raetastic07 @a-short-ass-disappointment (if you would like to be tagged for future one shots let me know)

Summary: Logan didn't get you. And you didn't get Logan, you were mad at the world and you had taken it out in Logan. So now you decided to take it out on yourself.

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: swearing, self-harm, suicidal ideation, worthlessness, self esteem issues, survivors' guilt, trauma, blood, graphic violence, can be read as platonic or potentially romantic

(If you haven't caught up on part 1 you can read that here)

You storm out of the bar cursing and muttering to yourself. You vent your frustrations to the night air. Why did he hold back? It’s not like it would have hurt you for long. You've taken bullets to the lungs, claws couldn’t be anything different. And it wouldn’t matter anyway, your body wouldn't let the injury stay there for too long. The punctures would have been filled again within minutes.

Minutes ago he was ready to throw you around like a rag doll but as soon as you give him an opening he hesitates.

Coward, can’t even punch the guy who was cussing him out and pushing him around, did he really think you were that fragile?

You mutter to yourself a little louder. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much that he was so uncaring when it came to you. You were the newest member to the team and he always over looked you, he could be rough with the other team members but at least he acknowledged them. He always seemed to just pass over you. What was his deal?

It didn’t matter, you were mad at yourself for even caring. What good was it seeking approval from someone like that

Wait, no. You didn’t want approval. That would be stupid, you didn't need approval. You never did. And this guy was no different. He was nothing to you.

Except he was, because if he wasn’t you wouldn’t be having this battle with yourself.

You skulk down the adjacent ally to the bar and start to vent your frustrations louder. You wished your body would allow you to feel pain, prolonged pain. You wish it didn’t heal. You wish you had scars to show for your losses, for the battles claimed with victory and the battles ending in defeat. But no, your body was as pristine as a newborn baby and like a psychopath you wished your skin would scar and scab and peel and break and bleed. It did. But never for long enough.

Sure the mental pain was bad, excruciating even. But you had nothing to show for it, no real loss. No real pain. Nothing that signified that you were even struggling the way you were. The only sign anyone knew something was wrong was the fact that you went to drink every night. But that was normal for a few of the team members so it was nothing to ask about. And no one asked so you didn’t tell anyone.

Although you find it hard to believe that you would tell anyone even if they did ask. But it wasn’t your place to complain, there are bigger problems in the world and people with worse situations than you. Some trauma was nothing compared to that.

But deep down you knew it wasn’t just “some trauma” it was the reason you were here in the first place. Your mutation manifested during a school shooting, you stepped in front of a group of middle schoolers and took the bullets. But instead of being thanked for saving those kids you got incarcerated and experimented on until you broke out. Having to live off grid until Charles found you.

That’s what you get for trying to be a hero when you weren’t. Because you weren’t, it was a simple fact. You weren’t heroic, you weren't special, you couldn't perform feats of strength, and you definitely couldn’t protect people.

You punched the wall of the bar, the skin on your knuckles splitting from the force. Good.

But like usual the skin flaked off, dying as it was replaced with fresh clean skin. The only trace of your injury was the tiny trickle of blood sliding down your finger.

You punched the wall, again and again and again.

Meanwhile Logan was still sitting on the floor where you shoved him off, he watched after you as you stalked away and walked out of view. He was holding out his hand like it was burning, trying to keep the heat away from himself.

What the hell had you been thinking, you had made him mad, sure. But he wasn’t going to actually fight you. He just wanted to scare you off so you would stop. Things didn’t go well when people pushed his buttons. It wasn’t a threat, it was the truth. He couldn’t always control his rage and you prodding him was dangerous. He needed you to stop but what you had done, or attempted to do, left him speechless.

He knew of your regenerative powers and reinforced skin but there was no way he was going to willingly attack a team mate. He had been watching you ever since you joined the team. Keeping an eye on you but making sure to keep his distance. You were fierce and strong. Capable but reckless. Due to your regenerative mutation you threw yourself in the path of others. Like a human shield. I

f it weren’t for your mutation, he might have said you were suicidal. That was before tonight. Now he might have said and believed it was true.

He’d been purposefully keeping his distance from you, he didn’t want to scare you off or intimidate you. He was told that he could be very confronting at first so he wanted to give you time to adjust. He guesses this is what he gets for following Scott’s advice. It seems keeping his distance had the opposite of the intended affect.

But tonight, had just thrown a spanner in the works. He couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the fact that you always seemed rearing for a fight but what you had just tried to do had thrown off his entire image of you. Not necessarily in a bad way, but a way that made him want to close the distance. He was concerned for you, and he could tell you were carrying something heavy. Like everyone in the X-Men they all had a ball and chain with them. A past life that had brought them here to Charles’ school.

But yours was still unknown to him, and he assumed to everyone else except Charles.

Picking himself up from the floor he drops some of money on the bar next to yours and follows you outside. He sniffs at the air, following your scent and the alcohol intermingled in with it. As he follows your scent something else joins it, something sweet.

He turns a corner to find you in the back alley, beating up the brick wall of the bar, your knuckles bleeding and then healing over. You don’t hesitate between each punch, your hands not even completely healed before you strike the wall again. Over and over and over. Blood covered your hands making them a deep crimson in the shadowy back alley. The same deep colour was dripping from the walls, making the brickwork look like it was crying. The cracks in the bricks filled with your blood. Were those cracks there before or after you began your barrage?

The scene laid out before him was haunting. In a mere split second Logan had gone from an annoyed but concerned walk to a horrified sprint. He slams into you and pulls you away from the wall. Spinning the two of you around and pushing your back into the patch of blood on the wall. From this close the smell of the blood overwhelmed him, but he struggled through it. He grabbed your hands and pinned them to the wall beside your head. He didn’t want to risk you trying to get away or hurting yourself again.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed into your face

You glowered back, he could see now that you had tears falling from your eyes. You weren’t yelling or sobbing or making any noise. He could hardly hear your breathing you were that quiet. You hadn’t even made a grunt as you split open your own skin.

You didn’t speak now, you didn’t want to say anything. You didn’t have to explain this to him. It wasn’t his business, and he didn’t really care. He wasn’t asking because he cared. He was asking because he thought you were insane.

He looked down at you with his brow furrowed. He couldn’t figure you out, there was something missing in the now twisted image he had of you. The why. Why you were here, not just here tonight but here with the X men at all. Why?

“Why?” he asked, his voice still rough but softer than it was gruff. Unlike his first question  

“Why what?” you asked, you were being stupid on purpose. Pretending like this whole situation was completely normal. That you hadn’t just been injuring yourself on purpose and were now trapped between your teammate and a wall.

“Don’t do that, just answer the question”

You didn’t want to, you didn’t want to be here anymore, it was a mistake coming here to drink and picking on Logan. You just wanted to disappear but he pressed you harder.

Repeating the same question

“Why?”

“What was the point?”

“What was wrong with you”

He was begging you to answer him, his voice was overwhelming, yelling at you for an answer until you snapped. His voice reverberated around your head until your skull cracked from the strain of it.

You fight against him as you yell but he holds on, he doesn’t even flinch as you scream “Because I can’t fucking die! Because I will never have a scar left behind to show what I’ve done! To show what I’ve been through! Because if I don’t come home with blood on my hand’s no one will know that I ever did anything worth anything! Because if I can’t bleed then everyone who has ever died won’t be able to rest knowing that the person who failed to save them doesn’t even have a scar to show for his failure!”

And it was out. Your words were out of your mind and into the world. The sound carried away on the wind, the world and now Logan knowing the secret you had kept hidden. Like a locked box at the bottom of the lake. That had been pulled from the depths and sprung open from years of rusting in the water.

Logan didn’t let go of you, in fact he held on tighter. The truth making him scared for you.

No, not for you.

Of you.

Because a person who still went on trying to do everything for others despite all the pain they held inside was someone stronger than any foe he ever faced. Any enemy he was ever going to face.

You looked away, staring down at Logan’s chest. Unable to look him in the face despite the rage you felt against him. It was all bundled up inside of you like a raging fire burning down its containment. And you were starting to burn him, you didn’t want to, but you knew you already had. Scorched him like everyone else in your life. No matter how hard you tried to douse your own flame people kept adding fuel to it.

But that rage wasn't fading and you had to direct it somewhere. You pulled your arms forward and ripped them away from his grasp. Some of the blood on your knuckles smeared onto his hand as you pulled away. You put your hands on his chest and shoved as hard as you could. Causing him to stumble back from you. Releasing you from his arm cage.

"Get the fuck away from me" you hiss at him.

You turn to leave down the alley and you bump into his with your shoulder for good measure.

You make your way to your car and speed out of the parking lot and down the road. Once again leaving Logan in your dust.

Oh my god I couldn't help myself but I'm leaving you guys hanging for a part 3. If you want to see where this goes (maybe I'll even turn it into a mini series) then let me know!

And as usual I take requests so if you want to see anything in particular then send me an ask!

Edit: if you happen to be coming back to re read this, yes. I did change the ending because I had no fucking clue how to connect the next part so something needed to shift. Sorry to disappoint but it moved to fast for me to be able to probably continue the story.

Part 3 here!

I was not expecting this to end up being this long...but I guess it is. I'm really happy with how this turned out. I won't spoil it. But this reader's mutation is my favourite in any universe.

Summary: You were adopted by Logan on one of his errands out of the school. Charles has deduced that you were a mutant but your mutation has not presented itself yet. One day it does, and it's not pretty.

Tags: blood, slight gore, warning for graphic imagery, hurt/comfort, father Logan, mentions of Charles and Jean

Word Count: 1.4k

Logan was sitting in Charles' office. It had been a few weeks since he had decided to stay at the school permanently and had taken up the job offer as a history teacher.

To be fair he had been alive since before the civil war so there wasn't anyone more perfect for their job. Especially now that he was able to get a lot of his memories back.

Charles has become like somewhat of a father figure to Logan, if not a good friend and confidante at the very least.

Logan had not only chosen to stay so the he could have a free room and a purpose in life but also because of you.

He had found you on a missions, picked you up and taken you back to the school. Charles had let Logan know when he was in the area that there was a mutant who hadn't presented yet.

It was safest for you here. Just because there was no way to actually tell when or what your mutation might manifest into.

But as Logan and Charles talked Charles fell silent in the middle of their conversation. Logan's eyebrows twitched in question as Charles eyes went glassy before coming back to focus on Logan. A new found worry in his eyes.

"Charles?"

"His mutation has finally manifested...Logan go"

Logan didn't have to be told twice. He knew at some point your mutation would manifest but it was hard to say when. You were well past the age of your mutation manifesting physically but there's a late bloomer in every species.

Logan pushed his chair back, it squeaking across the floor as it scrapes along the wood. He dashes down the corridors, dodging kids left and right as he makes his way to your room.

As soon as he turns down the corridor your room is in he hears it.

A piercing scream that hurts his amplified senses. A sound makes his heart ache.

He gets to the door of your room and pushes it open.

He finds you on the floor, curled in on yourself. Your shirt ripped in the back and a spattering of blood on your shirt and the floor.

You look up to see Logan. Thank fuck he's here. Before you could say anything, you open your mouth and a scream replaces your words. A sharp throb of pain spreading across your back and into your spine once more.

Logan bends down in front of you and tries to sit you up but you stay tucked into yourself.

He checks you over, as much as he can without moving you but he doesn't need to look too hard. Now that he's closer, kneeling in front of you he can see what's happening.

Sticking out of the holes in your ripped shirt are two bones, partially covered in skin and what looks to be...no way are those feathers?

Are you growing wings?

He hadn't heard of a mutation like this before. One the alters bone structure and genetic make up well into adolescent development. He would have to get Jean to check you over but right now he knew you couldn't move.

He could see the bone moving, growing at an accelerated rate that should have taken a years naturally. The skin and feathers began growing over the bone as more and more of it began to grow and stick out of your skin. The flesh around it was torn and you were bleeding profusely. He was worried about the blood loss but there was no way to staunch the blood without interfering with your growing. He might make it worse if he tampered with it.

So instead he sat there with you. He pulled you over to him so you could still stay doubled over, but your head was resting on his lap as he curled his legs underneath himself. He kept his hand in your hair, stroking it and whispering comfort to you.

He was hard to hear over your crying and occasional cries of pain but his presence was enough. It meant everything to you.

But that feeling was too mingled with fear and pain and you couldn't fully process anything. You just let the tears fall down your face as you tried to stifle your screams. Biting down on your own lip until it bled so that you didn't frighten any of the other children.

Logan watched as the bones continued to grow from your back. Sticking out further and further until a second bond joined the first one creating the rest of the wingspan as more feathers, longer and stronger began sprouting from further down the wing.

It was a few hours before the mutation had fully manifested. You had long since stopped crying the tears staining your face. You lay breathing heavily with your head still in Logan's lap.

He hadn't left your side the entire time. You sniffed and tried to keep your breathing even but even though the pain was gone the panic was not going anywhere.

When Logan was sure it was all over he helped you sit up. Making sure you didn't sit on your new wings and didn't aggravate the injury.

"Can you stand? We need to get you to Jean."

You nodded. Your back felt strange. There was a new weight. A new neurological connection to a set of muscles that hadn't existed before. You could feel the wings, you were in tune to them. Having them felt as natural as having two arms. But moving them hurts. So you let them drag on the ground behind you, rather than holding them up.

Logan took your hand and helped you walk to Jeans lab. You felt dizzy, all the blood loss has made you woozy.

Your bedroom floor and Logan's jeans were stained with it. There was so much.

Logan looked at your wings as he walked beside you. They were a deep green. Something like the leaves of the forest he used to live in during the spring. It was a beautiful colour. It matched your eyes and your hair.

He felt your pain. Knowing what it was like to have your body rip itself open for a "gift" you didn't want.

He was going to be there for you every step of the way whilst you figured this out. He made a promise to take care of you and he was going to keep it. Even if that mean struggling through your manifestation.

The two of you got to Jeans lab and she had you lay face down on her table. She poked at your wings trying to move your ripped shirt and new wings aside so she could assess the damage. It hurt. Any movement hurt but if she didn't clean the wound it would hurt a lot more later on.

She has to cut you out of your shirt because the blood had dried into a sticky brown colour and she couldn't risk getting cotton in the gashes.

She explained to you what she had to do and you nodded accepting what was necessary.

Logan crouched down in front of you and you looked at him from the bench. Forcing out a smile before Jean got to work. You shoved your face down into the table hiding the expression of pain you could feel twisted into your features. You didn't want Logan to see that. But he grabbed your hand and held onto it. You squeezed it each time pain ebbed over your skin. And he squeezed back, letting you know he was still here.

After what felt like too long Jean announced she was done. She had to stitch up a gap that was unnecessary to your wings range of movement. The extra flesh that had been torn from the growth.

She informed you that you would have to come see her again the next day and that you would have to be careful how you slept and moved until everything had fully healed and your body had adjusted.

After that Logan leads you back up to your room and helps you into bed. You don't bother to get changed. You doubt that you would fit into any of your shirts now anyway. You crawled into bed and tried to find a comfortable position but it was hard. You didn't have enough room anymore.

You reached a hand out from your place on your bed. Feeling with your hand you try to find Logan in the darkness of your room. He takes your hand and with the little strength you have you try to pull him towards you.

He gets the message and sits down in your bed. Kicking off his boots and pulling you back to lay on his legs and chest. Acting as a full body pillow for you. Within moments the exhaustion of the day caught up with you and you were out like a light.

I'm so glad I could write this. Staying up till 2am was totally worth it gets this done. I'm so proud of it! If you like this then please consider sending in a request of your own. I would be happy to take them in

This was supposed to be kinda smutty but it ended up being kinda sad. If you want to see part two with some actual NSFW themes then let me know in the comments, because I feel like I can go somewhere with this.

Summary: Life is shitty being a mutant, and it's even shittier when you can't save everyone. So where do you turn? The bar, to drink away the pain and forget for a few hours. Unfortunately for you, someone decided to keep you company.

Word Count: 1k+

Tags: alcohol, bar fight, suicidal ideation, self-hate, self-esteem, worthlessness trauma

It had been a rough week, the missions got difficult and sacrifices had to be made. People were lost. But its part of the job right? That shit always happens. Well tonight you just couldn’t stand it, the knowing that there were people you couldn’t save. Families who were missing loved ones, because you weren’t fast enough.

It made you sad, but it mostly made you angry. At least that’s how you presented it to the world. And that’s how you presented it to Logan, the man who had followed you to the bar. You didn’t know why. If he cared, you didn’t want his pity. If he was here for a drink why couldn’t he have gone somewhere else.

Big scary Logan, The Wolverine. What did he need to sit here and drink about, especially where you were trying to get shit faced before you had to see Charles the next day.

“Can’t you drink somewhere else?” you say to him, your words already slurred from the bottle you had almost finished emptying.

“Nope” he said flatly as he sat down on the stool next to you, ordering a round of shots for himself.

You rolled your eyes, either this guy was dense or just an asshole.

“Oh Logan is too high and mighty to go drink somewhere else because I would rather get shit faced alone than with company” you say

The bar was empty, but it didn’t really matter much, you weren’t going to keep your voice down even if there were people in here. Something about him was just rubbing you the wrong way. You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, the pain of your supressed emotions or just the fact that Logan never bat an eye at you despite how much you tried to show him you had value to the team.

“Yeah basically”

Your anger gets the better of you at his sarcasm and you shove him, he leans away, almost spilling his drink. He downs it and turns to you

“Are we gonna have a problem, bub?”

“I don’t know, are we?” you retort

“You want to do this here? Now?”

“What to scare to make a mess? Afraid you’ll hurt me? Guess what asshole I’m-“

But he didn’t get to hear what you are because he shoved you back, standing up from his seat as he pushed you off yours and onto the ground. Your back hit the wooden floor and you hear the bartender sigh.

You watch as he walks away from the counter and into the back.

You glare up at Logan, lips peeled back in a snarl. But before you could stand up, he was grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you up from the ground. He was taller than you slightly so he could lift you off your feet.

“You think your funny with a smart mouth like that, well I got news for you, it’ll be no good for anything if you keep running it off”

You tried to shove him off of you but you couldn’t bring up enough force with your feet barely touching the ground.

“Let go of me!”

“Are going to calm down?”

“That depends, are you going to keep pushing me around?”

He dropped you and your knee buckled a little bit at suddenly having to take weight again.

“You pushed first” he muttered going to sit back down

“And I’m going to push last”

You swing at him, a sloppy, open swing, unlike your usual bullet-like punches. Before you could even make contact with Logan he spun around and pushed you to the floor again, clambering on top of you. His claws out. The outermost ones were jammed into the floor creating a fracture in the wood from the force, the middle was still retracted, barely peeking out of the gap in his skin just above your neck.

Instead of feeling fear at the threat you laugh. Like him, you had super regeneration so him stabbing you was no real threat. Not to mention you had carbon fiber steel for skin. He shoves his face in yours and growls

“What the fuck is your problem” he spits

Both of you have drunk enough, you're both rearing for a fight and the only person you have to take it out on is each other.

Logan is pissed, he doesn’t get you. You spend every mission jumping into dangerous situations and then you come to the bar every night to come back drunk. Do you have a screw loose or are you just that stupid.

Even as he looks at you with his brow furroed and his claws at your throat you continue to laugh.

“Go on then, slice me open. Maybe we’ll both feel better afterwards” you laugh again but pain stings at your eyes as tears well up.

If only you could just die, make a sacrifice worth something like everyone else. Maybe then the pain will stop, maybe then you won't spend every night pitting yourself, maybe you won't be the cause of any more loss because you just weren’t good enough.

Logan pauses, ready cut you to ribbons but your statement makes him freeze. He knows that tone, the mirth. The self-deprecation and pain in your words. He doesn’t need to be like Charles to know what’s going on in your head.

“What. Are. You. Waiting. For?”

Before Logan could answer or move you grip his wrist pulling it out of wooden floors and slam his fist into you chest.

But there are no blades, no blood and not cuts. Just the knuckles of his fist thumping into your chest. It only throbs in pain, no damage done.

“Fuck you” you say bluntly and shove him off of you, pushing him away and standing up. He’s left speechless watching as you stand up, down the rest of the bottle and one of his shots. Pull out some crumpled notes and storm off, walking out into the night.

Let me know if you want part 2 and I take request for as well so check me out @waywardwritesstuff for my request info.

(Psst you can find part 2 here)

I don't even fucking know if I want all my writing to be on my writing blog or that blog turned into a poem/vent blog. Either way I am taking requests for Wolverine and/or Deadpool.

I do Wade X Logan

And X male reader pairings. If you want that then send me an ask!

My writing blog is @waywardwritesstuff

Tags: reader is afraid of thunderstorms, could be read as platonic or romantic, minimum dialogue, fluff

Word Count: 1k+

Summary: Logan has gone out to work for the day and a Strom has rolled in. Lucky for you, you are alone and petrified of storms. Oh wait...did I say lucky?

The storm raged on outside your home. A thunderous bellowing that shook the windows and made the whole world feel like it was shaking around you. You were curled up on your bed. A thick blanket wrapped tightly around you, not only to keep the cold out but to keep you safe.

It was silly, the notion that a piece of material could protect you from harm that could be inflicted by a storm but you always felt a little safer know you were covered by something that brought you comfort.

But you really wished that Logan would just get home. He went out a few hours ago, before the storm hit but he still wasn’t home yet. Through the thunderous claps of lightning surrounding the house you listened for his foot steps, the thump of his boots on the creaking floorboards.

You closed your eyes, straining your ears for any familiar sound whilst also trying to block out the thunder. An impossible task but still you tried. Your heart raced inside of your chest and you heart pounded, louder than even the rain on the windows. And then you heard it, the clunk of a car door locking back into place. You let out a heavy sigh of relief.

Logan pulled up in his 1965 Chevrolet El Camino parking in the drive and making a dash for the door so he didn’t get drenched and bring a mess inside. He kicked his boots off at the entrance as he closed the door behind him and called out your name.

The loud noise made you flinch, he called again but you didn’t answer.

Shaking off any excess water at the front door and placing his leather to dry on the coat rack he ran his hand through his hair and went looking for you.

The main part of the house was lit up. The hanging fairy lights you insited on installing in the rafters were on. Leaving a yellow glow to light up the room, contrasting the blue-grey of the outside world. His foots steps thumped down the hallway, he stuck his head in each room as he went looking for you until he found you curled up on the bed, a blanket wrapped tightly around you.

How had he forgotten, you were afraid of thunderstorms.

He approached you slowly, not wanting to startle you. But knowing you he figured you had already heard him before you had even stepped inside the house.

You felt the bed dip as he gently sat himself beside you, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But he was here and that was what mattered

Logan still kept his walls up. Replacing a brick each time it cracked and made sure there were no gaps in the motar. Not even for you. Sometimes he would look over the wall. So you could see his face. But it didn’t take long before he hid behind it again. Too many things had happened in his life. 180 years was a lot of time for things to go wrong…

But today he felt brave, he felt like stepping away from the wall for a while, just for you.

Because he knew you needed him to.

He waited, waited for you to move or speak but you didn’t. So he knew he had to make the first move, he shifted his weight, turning so his back was against the head board and your back was resting against his leg.

He sat beside you, a comforting presence. A strong and fierce one, but one that never failed to make the air in your lungs feel crisper. The weight on your shoulders a little lighter. And the darkness around you just that little bit brighter.

With him next to you the whole world fell away. His deep breathing the only thing you could hear, the scent of rain and the woodland musk that covered him the only thing you could smell. And even with your eyes closed you could see his face. You hoped the scowl that always furrowed his brow was a little less hard than usual. But you didn’t open your eyes to check

“The storm should clear out soon” he muttered, his voice low, almost too quite to hear.

“At least this way I don’t have to clean the truck. Although the same can’t be said for the tires”

Your mouth still remains shut but he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t really want to have an actual conversation and neither do you. But he want’s you to know he’s here. More than just physically being here.

“No trees fell on the main road. It’s good. Means getting to town will be easy”

Your breathing is deeper now, less restricted and anxious, your heartbeat is slower. Matching the rhythm in his own chest.

He looked down at you, your head turned away from him and your hair laying messily atop it. You looked more relaxed than he imagined you must’ve been. But he could still tell the storm was frightening you.

Gingerly he lifted up his left arm and placed it on your side. His bicep resting on your shoulder and his hand on your ribs. The touch was light. Almost non-existent. Like his hand was hovering over you rather than actually touching you. But the contact was the last thing you needed to feel truly safe.

To feel truly protected and cared for. You inhaled deeply and sighed contentedly.

Logan watched as his hand rose and fell with your breathing, he watched with hooded eyes. Tired from his days work but content to be home and in your company.

“You’re going to be okay. The storm will let up soon, and I won’t leave you until it does” he said a bit louder this time, making sure that you could fully hear him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you”

He meant it, he had lost so much but wasn’t going to lose you, and he wasn’t going to let you lose anything else either. He couldn’t rest knowing he had left you alone in the world. His spirit would roam the world until he knew you had also found peace.

But he didn’t want to leave you and he never would. Over his dead body.

He watched his hand again as it rose and fell in time with your breaths. He hated knowing that just under his skin were a set of claws sharp enough to kill a man, he hated looking at his hands knowing what the world saw when they looked at him. A dangerous killing machine that needed to be put down. He wasn’t that. And he never wanted you to think of him that way.

He thought of a song that you listened to often, it wasn’t his cup of tea (or shot of Jack Daniels should he say) but he knew how much you liked it so he began to sing it softly. Having heard it enough times to know it word for word.

And I don’t want the world to see me. Cause I don’t think that they’d understand

When everything’s made to be broken. I just want you to know who I am

His voice was low, and beautiful and everything to you. You listened intently to his singing, forgetting completely about the thunderstorm, as everything faded away except the two of you.

I wrote this for my gorgeous friend and biggest supporter @raetastic07. Thank you for letting me write and post this. Creating is my love language and I loved making this for you.

I also take requests if anyone is interested