imobsessivesometimes

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 4

a/n ok last of spam post as of 11/22/24 ('merican notation)

this chapter genuinely took me so long to write, writers block is so real

"Ok!" I clapped my hands to begin, "Since it's our first lesson, I think we should get to know what kind of music you like!" The kid in front of me was scrawny, grumpy, overall uninterested. Ororo told me the only reason why he signed up is because she asked. Guess the kid has a crush on her.

"I don't really listen to music." he remarked listlessly. He hunched in his chair like he was rivaling the guy from that Notre dame movie. It was hard to keep my eye from twitching. I have NO idea what I'm doing.

"That's ok! Yeah, that's, yeah, totally fine. I, uh, actually put together a list of a few songs that I think matches your--uh--vibe!" I grabbed the folder on the piano bench to my right, opened it and grabbed a semi-crumpled piece of paper out of it. "I had seen you in the halls a few times, Oror--I mean, Storm, Miss Ororo, Miss Storm? --anyways, she pointed you out to me and, well, just look at it." I put out the piece of paper to him and he grabs it limply. His eyes rack over the small list and looks back at me unimpressed. "Oh! Right, right, you don't listen to music, so obviously you wouldn't know most if not all of these songs. That's ok! We can listen to them on my speaker and that can be our lesson for the day. And maybe next time we can figure out if you'd like to play an instrument, which one, or if you'd like to sing." I take the piece of paper back from him. I stand up to go to the piano where a small speaker is perched on the top. I que a few of the songs and we started to listen. He slouched down further and crossed his arms. 

Dark Entries (Bauhaus)

The kid emanates a punk attitude. Ororo had mentioned he barely listened in class, didn't participate in exercises unless he wanted to, and he talks back to Charles Xavier. Maybe music that'll get him to stomp around and move will be what he needs.

As the chorus came on, I saw his foot start to tap to the beat, or at least what he thought was the beat. I could see the slight movement of his head rocking. I think I might've clocked what he'll like. I played a few more songs until our 50 minutes was up. I gave him the list again and told him to explore different artists within the same genre. He seemed excited to see me next week.

I lean on the door frame, watching him walk away. His head bopped a little bit, I could feel that his heart was still beating at the same bpm as the last song we listened to. It honestly made me happy to see. Maybe this faux-"music therapy" was going to work. Before I turned back into my little classroom, I heard a gruff voice call out to me.

"Hey, teach," Logan lounged down the hallway, quickly making it over to me in a few strides, "I see you got Jacob to sign up?" he smirked, clearly knowing the kind of kid he was.

"I wish, Ororo did, actually. I think the kid has a thing for her," I scoffed with a smile. Logan leaned against the wall next to the side of the frame I was against. "Not busy?"

"Nah, sometimes you gotta ditch your own class." he shrugged. This guy, I tell ya. "I forgot you got put down here. All good?"

"Yeah, thanks for asking. I didn't think you were the type to check on the noobie." I pushed his shoulder slightly. It was odd, though. The first impression I got from him is that he didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. Maybe Jean Grey, if my eyes are working properly.

"Eh, well, I thought I'd be charitable, for once." he shrugged, "I was told I need to be 'nicer'" he put in quotes, his eyes roll under his furrowed eyebrows. All in jest, I think. 

"Mm, that's sweet," I say, "Got some more time on your hands?"

He raises an eyebrow at me, "Why?"

"I just thought maybe you'd wanna listen to some music with me. I don't have any other students today, literally only one signed up. Maybe you'll be more motivated to work after." I shrug. I try not to let my nerves get the better of me. Asking Logan to basically hang out was not something I was expecting to come out of my mouth, but something in me wants to spend more time with him. Something in me makes me want to get to know him better, maybe even help him. Also, if students know that I'm buddies with the big bad Logan, they'll want to sign up for lessons with me!

Logan looked at me suspiciously. I purse my lips in a thin line with wide eyes waiting for him to answer. "I don't really listen to music, kid, hate to break it to ya."

"Literally no one here does," I push off the frame with an eyeroll. It's getting frustrating how none of these people want to even try to get into something new, "Well, I'm going to practice piano, or something. Have fun at-- well, at whatever you do," I still give him a smile before I retreat back into my room. He gives a grunt in response when I close the door. I plop down on the piano bench and sigh. 

Being in this mansion was starting to get suffocating. And being in this little room with one window felt worse than that stupid shipping container. Worse than anything that fucking "RainTec" did to me. I don't understand why no one has come to talk to me about, or even to see if I'm ok. I am, but it'd still be nice to be asked. I hope I'm not always going to be useless and invisible here. I'm hidden in the farthest corner on the highest floor of this place. It's a wonder why Logan was up here in the first place. Maybe he goes on walks or something, I don't know. He's a weird guy, nothing he does would surprise me, honestly. Well, except if he started acting like Ororo or Kitty.

I sat at the piano for a while; for how long, I don't know, I don't have a clock. My speaker pinged and a muffled voice came out of it asking me to go down to the Professors office. I think it might've been Jean who hacked into my speaker. After another second, I get up begrudgingly. Sitting in my wallows was more appealing, ignoring this would be stupid, though. Besides, it's probably something important. I quickly make my way down to the first floor where Charles' office is located. I open the door to a few people around his desk, looks like I'm the last to the party. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Logan were the people I recognized. There was another young man, he was blue with a tail and sharp teeth.

"Y/n, I'm happy you could join us on such short notice. I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Charles Xavier greeted. He's always nice to me. Skeptically, he might be a little too nice. "I know you haven't had any training, but the x-men would be at benefit of your knowledge and abilities for this mission." he began to explain, "You wouldn't be put on the battlefield, you'd be conducting behind the scenes work from the jet." he smiled.

"Uhm, ok? What is this mission even about?" I asked.

"My apologies, I forgot you weren't here when I went over it with the other x-men. We've found a base of RainTec's that we have records of you being held there recently. We've gotten reports of mutant's captive there, the mission is to help them escape and bring the base down in the process." he finished. The Professor didn't seemed bother in the slightest by my connection to RainTec, not even by the fact that I was also held captive there recently. But, despite that, this could be a good opportunity to prove myself useful. Maybe by helping them with this, it'll show that I can help people. Logan said that the first step is wanting to help, I guess this is my second. "Are you willing to help?"

"Yeah, sure." 

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 3

a/n i really like this chapter tbh i thought it was cute

First nights anywhere are hard. The unfamiliarity of the new environment induces paranoia that's hard to get over. It makes sleeping harder than it needs to be. New sheets and pillows make a game out of finding the perfect spot to lay on. A stupid, annoying game. The shadows of the trees outside are new, the way they sway isn't comforting like it the trees at my favorite park. The only park where police won't kick me out of for sleeping in my car there. The bed is too big here. The mattress is a completely different stiffness to than the seats in the backseat. The material of the comforter doesn't compare to the blankets I stupidly left in my car. I'll have to remember to bring those in next time I find myself in the garage. The mansion is fucking huge. I can't get anywhere without having to ask directions or follow someone. I've started to figure out how to get to the nearest piano. I'm surprised they even have one. I would've thought it'd be too dangerous to have an old grand around kids with unpredictable abilities. Guess not.

With the help of Ororo, I've come up with a way for kids to feel comfortable exploring music. We put up sign-up sheets in most classrooms for one-on-one piano lessons. I asked Logan if he could help me move the grand piano into a private room. Surprisingly, he agreed. Something about having nothing else worthwhile to do. None of the doorways were big enough to fit it through without taking it apart (which I don't know how to do or put back together) so we had to find someone who could phase objects. To my surprise there was a student that could! Logan had all but carried the piano in himself after the student allowed for the piano to be phase-able, it would've gone through the floor otherwise. A few other x- men walked by while Logan was in the middle of getting it through, they shot a few weird looks at me. If only I could phase, too.

Tomorrow, or I guess today, will be the start of the private lessons. I've never taught someone how to play the piano. The closest I've gotten to teaching a kid piano was in elementary school when the class was learning to play the keyboard, but I had already been playing for a few years thanks to my parents. I was a prodigy of 'Mary Had a Little Lamb', a true marvel to witness. In college, I majored in performance, not education. It had been a few years since I've been in school, tossing and turning in the too-white, white sheets was my only way of trying to bring forward the information I had accidentally locked away. 

Fuck this.

I threw the sheets off me. Sleeping clearly isn't going to happen. I got up to open the door, silently praying it didn't creak. My feet patted against the rug that rolled along the length of the hallway and down the stairs to the main floor. I made a few wrong turns on the main floor before reaching the kitchen. The light was on, but no one was inside. I rummaged through a few cabinets before finding an assortment of tea bags, a kettle was already near the stove. I put the kettle on and watched it closely from the counter so it wouldn't whistle and wake the entire house.

"What the hell are you doin'?" the only gruff voice I know came from an archway to my right. Logan looked just as tired as I felt. He wore a white shirt that I'm not sure if he wore during the day or not, and jeans. Like a weirdo.

"Uh, making tea? Good for the pipes," I responded. He looked to the kettle steaming on the stove, turned back to me, and began walking over.

"Ya singin' at 3 in the mornin'?" he tilted his head like a dog asking for people-food.

"Totally, that's what you're doing up, right?" I scoffed. Logan leaned his forearms on the counter next to where I sat. The air around him wasn't playful despite the words coming out of his mouth. He wasn't awake because he was a night owl. "Want some?" I motioned towards the kettle.

"Tea? No, I don't do tea."

"It's non-caffeinated, it might help you sleep." I tried.

"I don't have trouble sleeping," he pushed off the counter in defense.

"But you have trouble staying asleep,"

The air grew a little thicker, maybe from the steam the kettle was letting out. He stood looking at me, I couldn't tell if he was blinking. After a few seconds he tore his eyes away with a sigh. He rubbed his hands through his hair and down his face, messing up his perfect bedhead and making it even better. "Yeah," he mumbled, barely audible. He sat down, the poor wooden stool creaking just like the stairs.

"You can have a sip of mine, see if you like it," I offered, he waved his hand dismissively, but stayed seated. I prepared my cup of tea and held it out for Logan to smell. He didn't take the mug from the handle, not even wincing from the heat, and brought it up to his nose. I overheard from one of the students that he had heightened senses, I don't know why he held it so close. He didn't blow on the drink before taking a swig. He put the mug down while licking his lips. "So?"

"It's fine," he shrugged.

"Woah! That's a more positive response than I was expecting," I beamed. Logan leaned back with arms crossed and huffed something along the lines of a scoff and laugh.

"Just don't expect to see me down here brewin' myself some," he cocked an eyebrow.

"Not yet, at least," I winked while taking the mug back, blowing on it, and taking a sip myself. It was still too hot; I coughed a little. Out of the corner of my eye, it looked like Logan's eyebrow shifted to a crease of worry. "Hot," I got out.

As I set the mug down again, Logan spoke, "What are ya really doin' up? Ya said the tea would help me sleep, what 'bout you?"

"Well, uh, I," I stuttered, Logan was staring me down like a hawk, I would've hated to be questioned by this guy when I was in that container. I laughed nervously, "it's stupid,"

"No, it's not," he quickly rebutted.

"It's just, I'm nervous for tomorrow-today. A kid signed up for a piano lesson." I looked down, I couldn't handle the intensity of his stare. I caught a glimpse of myself in the tea, disheveled and tired. I didn't look like I could help someone.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Logan huffed.

"Well, yeah, but I dunno, I've never done something like this. I don't really help people like you do, like any of the x-men here do. You all teach important things like how to defend yourself or how to, I dunno, train your abilities. What if I'm doing more harm than good in the long run?"

"I didn't know learning music was such a big deal," Logan shrugged. He eyed the mug of tea; the thin line of steam had stopped. "It's not hot anymore,"

"Huh? Oh, thanks," I stuck my finger in the tea and swirled it around a little, "music isn't necessarily a big deal, but, to me, right now, it is. I don't know if I can help these kids."

"You keep saying that, but you took the job, right? The first thing to helping people is wanting to help people. I think you're doing fine." Logan leaned forward, pushing your wrist away from the mug and taking a sip from it.

"I never thought about it like that, thanks, Logan." I smiled slightly, but also a little confused at his actions. "Thought you didn't like tea?"

"No, I said ya wouldn't catch me makin' it myself. Why should I make it when ya do a fine job?" he raised the mug up in cheers. That knocked me out of my head long enough to pull a light chuckle from my lips.

"Thank you, Logan. I think I'm gonna head up. Comin' with?" I stood and asked. 

"Think I'll finish this, see ya around, kid." he turned around and headed off in the opposite direction of the staircase.

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 2

a/n wazzuh gang btw this story is EXTREMELY slow burn, hope y'all brought your reading glasses and patience

Everyone but Charles Xavier and Ororo (I finally learned their names) left the room. When Professor Xavier said he had an issue he thought I could solve, I was not expecting a teaching position. In the few minutes we talked to each other, it felt like he had known me for most of my life. He knew I went to college for music, he knew I was in-between jobs (aka unemployed,) and that I was essentially homeless, living out of my car. I didn't know it was that obvious. "I'm a telepath, Y/n. You're quite clean considering your circumstances." Charles' soothing words failed to make me feel any less embarrassed. Ororo had a kind smile that continued to help me through this awkward conversation. "I would like for you to consider teaching music here. We've had trouble lately with getting the kids to express themselves in ways that don't involve violence or resorting to their mutations. I believe it's healthy to have a balance in the ways one expresses their emotions."

"Yeah! Yeah, I agree. I actually wanted to be a choir teacher when I was in my first year of college. I just don't know how good I'd be at it. I don't have any teaching experience; I don't have any experience in helping people like the x-men do." I said, toying with the hem of my shirt. It was the worst shirt to wear in this situation. A stupid graphic-T I found at my favorite Goodwill. I was surrounded by well-dressed people; I really did look homeless.

"What I think the kids need is someone on the outside! You don't really know a lot about the mutant world despite being one, I think you're a perfect fit. You can teach music however you want to; we don't have strict, organized curriculums here." Ororo assured. They looked at me expectingly, hoping that their phrasing made it sound like an offer I'd be an idiot to pass up.

"Ok, I'll do it."

----------

"A music teacher?" Logan removed the cigar he was chewing on, "Didn't know we had the budget for one of those,"

"I think it's great! Sometimes the mansion is too quiet," Kitty Pryde sounded. She was one of the few x-men that thought it was a good addition. Most hoped that they wouldn't be forced to participate or that this new teacher was going to be going on missions with them.

"Did Professor make her an x-man?" Jean turned to Ororo, asking.

"No, but he did say that he would put her in some training. I think it'll be good for the kids to have some creativity in their lives," Ororo continued off of what Kitty was saying. Jean was skeptical. Nobody knew anything about this new mutant. She wasn't school aged, already having graduated college as a normal, non-mutant appearing individual. What exactly was she providing being here? Jean knew she was the one who invited Y/n to the mansion, she thought Charles was just going to ask questions about ReinTec, not a teaching position. She wasn't even aware of the 'therapy issue' at the school. She had been gone with Logan and Scott the week it was going on.

"C'mon Jean, be a little positive. This could be good for everyone," Scott said even though he, too, was hesitant to the addition.

"Didn't know you were on board for this," Jean playfully pushed Scott with her folded arms. "I'll give her a chance."

----------

Ororo accompanied me to get my car that held all my belongings. The trunk was filled to the brim with clothes that held the mystery of being clean or not, the backseat was decked out with blankets, and the passenger seat had an assortment of papers and old work uniforms. When Ororo caught sight of my car her jaw dropped, appalled at the state it was in. My dust green 64' Impala stood in all its glory underneath a 'No Parking' sign in an empty business park 20 miles away from the school. It was shiny, as every car should be. It has a few scratches I didn't bother fixing. A couple of indents here and there on the backseat doors. Not too shabby in my opinion. Not in Ororo's, I guess.

"How old is this thing?" she asked.

"Few decades," I stated proudly. She gave me a weird look as in to ask why the hell would I have such an old car, "My dad gave it to me when he died, said in his will that it was every rappers dream to have a 64'. Too bad I'm not a rapper, also I don't think that's true. But he used to tell me my mutation would help me make it big as a musician like my ma."

"Your mother was a mutant, too?" Ororo held a pity in her eyes, like she knew both of my parents weren't here anymore. She wasn't wrong, but I hated that pity in her expression.

"Yeah, she taught me a lot of ways to use mine. She died when I was younger though, that's why I'm out on the street and not living it big in Los Angeles or something," I laughed. Ororo pursed her lips, thinking hard of what to say. "You don't have to say anything, I'm ok." I said earnestly, but her expression didn't change.

"Well, you have somewhere to live now. You can even keep your car," she finally said, smiling, "Maybe Logan or Scott can help fix it up?"

"You think my baby needs that?" I fake pouted. Ororo was one of the few people that was accepting of me in the mansion. You'd think a place full of mutants would welcome another one with open arms, but a vast majority seemed hesitant. They thought I was an unnecessary addition, not worth it, a waste of money and housing. Some think the idea of music therapy is ridiculous. They think counseling just won't work with the students. I can't tell them they're right or wrong, I don't know myself if it'll work. I didn't take this job for selfish reasons. I was perfectly fine sleeping in my car, taking odd jobs, living like I was. But, if the headmaster thought I was important, then I must be. I just have to prove him right to prove everyone else wrong. I just hope I can do that.

We made it back to the school before the sun started to set. Ororo said she had training scheduled with a student soon and that someone will be around to show me where I'll be sleeping.

"Light packer?" the familiar gruff voice of Logan sounded to my right. He motioned with his head down to my two duffel bags, his arms too busy being folded to do it.

"Yeah, living out of your car will do that to ya," I shrugged. Logan furrowed his brows, clearly not expecting that. Thankfully, his face cracked into a barely detectable smirk after a few seconds. He shook his head playfully as he walked over to grab my bags.

"C'mon, we're neighbors." he beckoned, dropping the smirk as quickly as it showed. I followed Logan as he trudged up the stairs. The wood creaked under his feet, even dipping down slightly as he pushed off it. Leaving the stairwell, we traversed down to the end of a hallway, stopping at the door second to last. Logan took a step back so I could open the door, his hands busy with my bags. He entered first and tossed the bags on the plain bed. The room had beige walls with light flower decal, the bottom half bordered by wood paneling. The bed was placed in the middle of the room with nightstands on either side, each adorned with a simple lamp. There was a dresser, mirror, and a door assumingly to a bathroom.

"Thank you, you really didn't need to carry my stuff." I quickly said, hustling to the haphazardly placed bags.

"No problem, see you around," he muttered as he started to leave.

"Oh!" I started unintentionally, he turned around with an eyebrow cocked, "Uh, which door are you? Just in case, uhm, yeah, just, just in case…" I tried recovering. Logan dropped his eyebrows; he seemed relieved that I had only asked a basic question.

"Last one." he answered. He waited a second more to see if I had another question before turning around and leaving.

There was something off about him. I know nothing about him, but there was something in the way he carried himself that told me something's wrong. The air around him was disgruntled. Was it because he's against me being here? Before, it seemed like he didn't have an opinion. He seemed more focused on ReinTec than my presence. Maybe it's a good thing I'm not on his radar. He has a commanding aura to, a natural-born-leader kind of vibe. It would suck if he were to hate me.

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 1

a/n this is also on my ao3 account, but i felt like posting it here, too, for funsies. i'm bad at descriptions, just go with it.

synopsis: The school needs a therapist, fast. Maybe this random mutant can be the music teacher slash music therapy person. Oh yeah, there's also this mutant testing corporation?

-----------

"Clearly something isn't working," Ororo mumbled as she watched yet another student run by yelling obscenities behind them and ignoring the damage being caused by their mutation. It was nearing the end of the first week that a therapist had been employed at the school. Rebecca Zien was recommended to Charles by Jean Grey as a counselor that was also a fellow telepath.

"Perhaps the problem is that she's a mutant. She seems to be invading the students' minds, leaving them no room to express their emotions themselves." Charles determined beside her. He and Ororo had been watching closely the entire week, gathering information to see if Dr. Zien should be a permanent addition to the staff. It was evident that she should leave. "I'll discuss with her later this evening. Please go have a word with Miss Lily." Charles instructed Ororo which she gladly took to. It wasn't in her to leave a struggling student to their own devices when she could easily go help. This left Charles alone to think about what the next course of action was to be. Like Ororo had said, something wasn't working. They had an issue on their hands. They couldn't introduce something new and take it away and pretend like nothing happened. This week had caused all the students stress, and he needed to fix this mistake. The solution would have to wait a little longer, for now, he needed to fire Rebecca Zein.

Somewhere else in the world

"Leave me the fuck alone! God damn!" a woman demanded, struggling at the ropes that clung her uncomfortably to an equally as uncomfortable chair. "I have no idea what the hell y'all are even talking about!" she kicked at the air. The idiots who tied her down didn't think to restrain her legs. Said idiots, were leaning against the opposing wall to where the woman was tied. It was a small, dingy place. The acoustics made it sound like a shipping container. The woman didn't know for sure; she was knocked out before being put here.

"Do you ever shut up?" one man said. There was only two of them, the one who spoke seemed to be the younger of the duo. He seemed more inexperienced at kidnapping and interrogating people, too. He had repeatedly hit the woman after every question, not even giving her a chance to respond. But it wasn't like she had anything to respond with, anyway. She was plucked off the street after being detected as a mutant by the two. How they did that, she didn't know. Her mutation wasn't flashy or anything, it wasn't even visible when she was using it. She didn't need to outstretch her arms, her eyes didn't glow, nothing was admitted off of her. Her mutation was invisible unless she was using it on you. There was something wrong with the container, something that was preventing her from using her mutation on the two idiots.

"I'm not really known for being quiet, buddy." she remarked. They had been at a standstill for hours it felt. The older of the two muttered that it would be just a few more hours before she was out of their hair. Whatever that meant. They were both bald anyways. The younger opened his mouth in tandem with someone knocking on the container.

"About fucking time," the younger said as he leaned harder to crack open the container behind him. A force grabbed him, though, yanking him out of the container. A second didn't even pass before three silver claws dragged the older man with. The container was opened fully by a man with unibrow inspired sunglasses.

"Jean! There's someone in here!" he called out behind him. Another pair of footsteps ran beside him, a woman, Jean, appeared beside him and stepped into the container.

"I'm guessing y'all aren't the people they were waiting for?" the tied woman asked. Jean cracked a small smile as she made her way over to the other woman.

"That's right. What's your name? We weren't made aware that they had any hostages." she asked.

"I'm Y/n. I think I'm the only one here. I didn't hear anyone else being questioned in a one-mile radius. I don't know how big shipping container yards are, though." Y/n said. She helped slip the ropes around her torso off.

"You're a mutant?" Jean asked. Y/n stood, nodding. "Scott, see if there's any other hostages around." she called behind her. Unibrow shades, Scott, gave a thumbs up before running out of view. The sounds of the two kidnappers being beat up finally stopped and another man popped his head into view. He was gruffer than the other two saviors. He was a little and bloody from pummeling those two crooks. The sweat on his forehead was illuminated by the moonlight, as were his silver claws.

"Is she comin' with us or what?" even his voice was gruff. Sounds like he's gonna need a smoke after this, Y/n thought.

"A third location? What happened to never let someone take you to a second one, huh?" Y/n mumbled.

"Hm, funny," Jean said, "he's talking about a school for mutants. We're teachers there."

"I thought you guys were some kind of comic heroes?"

"That too," Scott wandered into the conversation. Jean gave him a questioning look, "no other hostages out there, just what we came here for." he informed.

"Good, lets head out then. Y/n, would you care to come with us? It'd be safer for you if you did."

"Only if you tell me who you guys are," Y/n crossed her arms. This 'school for mutants' sounded too good to be true; living as a mutant in this world taught Y/n that things were always too good to be true.

"I'm Jean, the man with the visor is Scott, and that's Logan. Are you coming with us or not?"

"Sure,"

-----------

Firing Dr. Zein wasn't exactly a walk in the park, unfortunately. She stormed out of the mansion saying something about her telepathy always helping her in her career as a therapist. Something like that. Charles Xavier was now sitting in his office with Ororo and other x-men/professors deciding what to do next.

"Maybe we could hire a non-mutant therapist? Maybe having someone on the outside looking in will give better counseling than someone on the inside. An outside perspective," Kitty Pryde suggested.

"We'd have to find someone willing to do that. I don't know if there will be many therapists out there willing to jeopardize their career by taking a controversial position as a mutant counselor." Henry rebutted.

Everyone who added to the discussion had valid points. It was starting to give Charles a headache. No solution seemed right; none fit with their circumstances. Most of the students said that the counseling felt too invasive. The whole situation gave everyone a headache.

"That's enough for today. We'll discuss this at further length when more faculty is present." Charles finally announced. The meeting had lasted well over an hour, they started talking in circle. "You all are dismissed." Faculty filtered out of the room at a moderate pace, Ororo was the only to stay behind as she has been Charles' righthand man during this whole ordeal. "You would imagine we'd be more equipped to handle this." he solemnly joked. Ororo didn't have the capacity to a pity smile.

The doors to his office suddenly burst open, revealing Scott, Jean, Logan, and someone he hadn't met before. "To what do we owe the honor?" Charles' eyebrows lifted slightly at the entrance and unfamiliar face.

"We found the weapons dumped at a shipping yard. We also found a hostage." Logan informed. At the mention of 'hostage' he pushed Y/n forward a little.

"Hostage?" Charles wheeled closer to Y/n. "A mutant hostage." he leaned back in his chair.

"Uh, yeah. Why is that important?" Y/n asked after the few seconds of examination.

"The weapons these three recovered are mutation repressors being manufactured by a colleague of one William Stryker." Charles stated. The air of mystery was quickly set aside, however.

"You say that like I'm supposed to know who that is," Y/n noted. The three behind her were getting annoyed, but Charles continued to enlighten Y/n with the important information she was missing.10 minutes had passed soon enough; Jean and Scott were lounging on a couch, Logan was one sentence from walking out of the room, and Y/n was sitting across Charles at his desk.

"Ok, so William Stryker sucks. I did, however, pick up pretty quick that they were gonna try out the mutation repressors on me, thank you for the thorough explanation, though." Y/n pointed out. She didn't mean that statement with any aggression, seemed like Jean and Scott didn't get that memo with the even more irritated expressions they displayed.

"What is your mutation, anyway?" Logan called out. He might as well get something out of all the waiting he was doing.

"It's kind of hard to explain. It relates to beats and rhythm," Y/n started, "like music," she added after seeing the confusion on his face.

"Music?" Logan grunted. Y/n just nodded, not feeling like an audible response was necessary if he was just going to be a bitch about it. "Why the hell would they want to test these out on a mutation like that?"

"Beats me, no pun intended. The container they put me in had something done to it where I couldn't use my mutation." Y/n shrugged. Charles and Jean perked up. Jean walked over from the couch slowly, the gears started turning in her head.

"They held you in a box that cancelled out your abilities?" Jean clarified; Y/n nodded once more. "That must mean this organization created a metal or compound of something that represses mutations, not just weapons."

"Organization?" Ororo asked.

"Yes, ReinTec, I believe." Charles added. "Jean, Scott, find whatever you can about ReinTec. Y/n, I'd like to talk to you about staying here at the school, I have an issue I believe you can help with."

[imobsessivesometimes]

This is so good

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

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

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

wc: 5k

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

The First meeting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

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

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

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3. In the garage

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4. Ice Skating

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry I..."

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

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

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

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

In the medbay

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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