we're dating? âĄ
logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
One-shot
A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname
incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity
Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80âs will be mentioned) Clueless!reader
Youâd had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. Youâd destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charlesâ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasnât a good idea to take your cuffs off.Â
The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you canât lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You donât want to think about what would have happened if youâd had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you.Â
Charles had been able to shut you down, but now heâs keeping you on probation. Youâve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. Thereâs never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You donât understand why heâs so against them now.Â
Youâre going stir-crazy. Thereâs only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. Heâs not even letting you teach classes anymore. Youâre stuck training, all day, every day.Â
âFocus!â Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back.Â
Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what youâve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you donât have to do this anymore.Â
You drop your hand and huff. âThis is pointless, Charles. Whatâs this even teaching me?â
He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. âShit,â you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container.Â
âOne moment of frustration, of distraction. Thatâs all it took.â Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. âHow can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you canât control this? What are you going to do when youâre panicked and fighting for your life?â
Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you donât have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile.Â
âThis is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. Itâs necessary.â You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if youâre not even on the field anymore.Â
âRight,â you mutter. âThanks for the lesson in incompetency,â you donât let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesnât deserve your bitchiness. Itâs your own fault you canât get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself.Â
You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water.Â
âRough day?â You donât open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches.Â
You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you donât have to face him. Youâve already dealt with enough dejection today. You donât need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have.Â
âMhm,â you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now.Â
Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when youâre around him. Youâre sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him.Â
You swear youâve never felt this way about a man before. You havenât had many boyfriends before, itâs not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you.Â
But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go.Â
You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that youâre not used to. Maybe itâs because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, itâs easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him.Â
You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. Itâs conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions.Â
You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction.Â
You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isnât drool on your chin. This is insane. Youâre a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? Heâs not even doing anything! Heâs just sitting there and you want to jump his bones.Â
You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. âSomething wrong?â
I need to have sex with you or Iâm going to explode.Â
You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. âJust training with Charles,â you mutter.Â
He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you donât continue he sighs. âAnd?â He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope youâre not reading into it, but you think heâs been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think itâs because he misses you. But youâre probably just delusional.Â
âAnd, nothing,â you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. âNo progress. I still canât control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.â
Logan huffs, youâre caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think youâre going to pass out.Â
Youâre friendly. But youâve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control.Â
But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and youâve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look.Â
âYou arenât useless,â he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you donât beg him to keep touching you and never stop. âYouâre just stuck in this house all day. Youâve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.â
You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. âDonât remind me. Iâve begged Charles to let me out.â Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy youâd let go of has left a permanent mark. âHe refuses to give me permission.â
Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like youâre an idiot. âSeriously, Flux? Just fuckinâ leave, who gives a shit?â
âUh,â you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, âCharles?â
His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you.Â
Youâre caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. âWanna have some fun?â
Only an idiot would say no.Â
You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up.Â
âCome on, kid.â He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what heâs going for before the door is even open.Â
âDidnât Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?â Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others.Â
You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.
âSince when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?âÂ
âGood point,â you mutter, moving to stand next to him.Â
He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. âDonât you need a helmet?â
You shake your head, âOh, no, itâll ruin my hair.â You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You donât regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, âRelax, Lo, I can use my powers.â When he looks like heâs not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding.Â
He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. âSee,â you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. âIâm perfectly safe.â He shakes his head and starts the bike.Â
The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scottâs bike out. Youâre not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump youâre going to go flying.Â
By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. Youâre trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd.Â
You guys are friends. And youâre friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. Itâs an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. Youâve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids.Â
Secondly, heâs being more touchy than he normally would. Youâre not complaining. You werenât exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isnât known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesnât seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you.Â
Maybe heâs just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. âAlright, whatâs first bub?â
You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. âIâm horrible at these things,â you inform him as you put your quarters in. âBut, I hold out hope that one day Iâll be able to actually beat this monster.â
Three failed attempts later, itâs become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isnât even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. Thereâs a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character.Â
Logan peers into the machine and asks, âWhat are you going for?â
âThe pigeon,â you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button.Â
Youâre allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. âDammit, Bart,â you let the ridiculous name youâve come up with for the toy slip.
Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. âBart?â He teases.Â
You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. âWhat, you think I call myself Flux because Iâm good at coming up with names?â You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff.Â
He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. âTough luck, kid.â He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand.Â
âShut up,â you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest.Â
The rest of the night is nice. He doesnât play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, youâve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place.Â
Nothing had gone wrong, you didnât have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You donât know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out.Â
Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. Youâre talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling youâve lost track of. You donât know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but youâre always embarrassed by it the second he leaves.Â
You reach your door and smile up at him. âThanks, Lo.â
He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. Thereâs a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper.Â
He leans down and every inappropriate thought youâve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking heâs going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life.Â
His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost donât feel them. ââNight Flux,â he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.
He didnât kiss you, but you oddly arenât disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, âTrainingâs at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.â
âFuck,â you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths.Â
You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasnât officially lifted the house arrest, but heâs given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, youâve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you.Â
You make lunch for the two of you and heâll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or youâll go to the movies together. Sometimes you donât even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around.Â
Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way heâs started touching you. Heâs always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he canât do that, then youâre tucked into his side. Itâs feeding into a starved part of you that youâve left neglected for far too long.Â
Itâs only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. Youâre dreading the moment theyâll stop. Youâre not sure when Loganâs going to deem you properly cheered up, but youâre hoping itâs not anytime soon.Â
There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time youâve been interrupted. Youâre actually starting to feel a little edged. Youâve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach.Â
You donât want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know heâs just being a good friend and taking care of you so you donât end up spiraling too far in your head. Itâs happened before, when youâve been struggling with your abilities. Heâs just keeping you from shutting down again and you donât want to make him uncomfortable because youâre hopelessly in love.Â
When you walk out of your room this morning youâre immediately smacked in the face. âWhat the fuck, guys?â You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You canât be bothered though, not when theyâre running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face.Â
âSorry!â Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. Youâre sure Charles wonât appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. Itâs only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on.Â
There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. Youâve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, youâve forgotten what month it was.Â
You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentineâs Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like theyâre going to kiss and you gag. âHey!â You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. âQuit it, get out of here.â They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated.Â
âNot a fan of young love, Flux?â
You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. âShut it, Summers,â you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. âWhen youâre in a committed relationship, you donât get to judge me.â
His brows turn down in confusion, âWait, but arenât you and Logan-â
Heâs cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows.Â
Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. âSorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.âÂ
You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. âEnjoy the young love, Summers.â
You actively avoid Logan all day. Youâre already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front.Â
Thereâs only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesnât seem to get the hint. Heâs everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention.Â
You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent youâre going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you.Â
It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and youâre alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks.Â
âHuh, thought youâd want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.âÂ
You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. âLogan, Jesus, you scared me.â Heâs frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. âUm,â you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isnât going away. âYeah, I might just go with cereal instead.â
He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you donât see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. âLogan?â Thereâs no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out.Â
You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear heâs not going to be answering you anytime. Thereâs a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like youâre in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times.Â
He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. âYou want me to go inside?â He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, âJesus, fine.â What the hell is wrong with him?
You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. âWow,â you suck your teeth and shake your head. âYou have not decorated at all.â
âShut up, smartass,â he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. âLook a little harder.â
You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, âHoly shit, Bart!â He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up.Â
âWent back for him after we left,â Logan tells you.Â
You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. âHow many tries did this take you?â He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.
He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and youâre pretty sure heâs missing an eye. But heâs absolutely perfect to you. Youâre about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffieâs neck. âWhatâs this,â you mumble to yourself.Â
You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bartâs neck. Loganâs dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. âLogan,â you trail off, an unspoken question following his name.Â
He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. âI wanted you to have this,â he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, âso you know youâre not alone. Youâre always so afraid of whatâs going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, youâre not alone. You have me, youâre always going to have me.â He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain.Â
You donât even have words for him. Itâs such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. Thereâs no possible way for you to reason this away. This isnât something âjust friendsâ do.Â
He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. âWanted to do this for a while,â he whispers. You almost ask what heâs talking about, but his lips are already covering yours.Â
Itâs incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than youâre used to. Heâs barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that youâre still not moving. Youâre just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man youâve wanted since youâve known him kisses you.Â
You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing heâll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire youâve felt for each other.Â
Youâve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. Itâs like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before.Â
You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You donât want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didnât have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped.Â
Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile thatâs about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know itâs pointless.Â
You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. âAre you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?â
He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. âDo you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?â
Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. âI- Well- I mean,â you take a full step back from him and shake your head. âWhat?â You finally settle on. âI mean, Iâm not objecting, at all, but what?â
Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. âWhat do you think weâve been doing the past three weeks?â
You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. âI donât know. I thought you were being a good friend!â
He smiles, thereâs no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. âYou think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?â
You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You canât believe youâve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. Youâre not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long.Â
âWell,â you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, âcertainly not Scott.â He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. âI canât believe weâve been dating this whole time.â
He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. âItâs alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.â
Thereâs something unspoken in his voice. A promise that heâs planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. âOnly if youâre mine.â
âWouldnât have it any other way.â
a/n: iâm gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, itâs sad. But whatâs the point of a valentine if itâs not going to be Logan?
end. â I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved Š not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
dividers by @/thecutestgrotto
3K notes
¡
View notes
Hey! Your writing is amazing! Iâve been checking daily for new fics lmao
I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?
Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. Theyâre on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save â Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Loganâs relationship starts to deteriorate. Loganâs not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service â bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.
Iâm sorry if this is confusing!! Iâm not creative enough to write it myself and youâre really really skilled. Love your work x
a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one
Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.
âWhatâre you thinking of doing after this?â
You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. âNot sure, got any plans?â
Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever heâs about to say is going to send you spiraling. âYeah, whatever youâre doing, sweetheart.â
Oh. My. God!
You know youâve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. Itâs so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend youâre more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him.Â
Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you donât know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. âSounds good, Lo.â
He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Stormâs face that sheâs trying not to laugh at you. You canât blame her, youâre sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned.Â
Flirting isnât out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, heâs upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. Youâre shy, not stupid, you know when a guyâs going to ask you out.Â
But it feels like heâs dragging it out longer than necessary like heâs enjoying teasing you a little too much. âAlright,â Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. âWeâre almost there, get ready.â
You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling.Â
The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. Youâre expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that theyâve been doing.Â
The air is bursting with moisture. Itâs suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That itâs irritating them just as much.Â
None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. Itâs beyond embarrassing. You know that thatâs what has you all distracted.Â
Youâre struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldnât have to, youâre still about a mile out from where you need to be.Â
You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charlesâ voice screams through your mind. Itâs a trap!
Even with the warning, thereâs no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover.Â
The other three have all found their own cover and theyâre struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, âBehind you!â
Itâs more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark.Â
You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. âDonât,â Logan warns. But youâre already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack.Â
Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. âThere are too many of them, more than I can count.âÂ
âHow did they know we were coming?â Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you.Â
Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. Youâre forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified.Â
âGuys,â you snap, âwe need a plan. I canât hold it much longer.â You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But thereâs nothing he can do.Â
Thereâs movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You canât risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jeanâs voice. âTen of them-â
You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others donât give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isnât much to worry about. But that doesnât change the fact that the men in front of you havenât let up and youâre about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up.Â
Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know sheâs sharing it with you.Â
But just as quickly as the relief was given, itâs yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, âFlux, we need to move!â
âI canât,â you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. âItâll all come crashing down,â you tell her.Â
She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way theyâre slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go youâll be riddled with holes. âShit,â she hisses. âLook, we canât stay here much longer-â
Sheâs cut off by a loud bang. Youâre so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both.Â
You donât what happened, or what they used, but it doesnât matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, youâre not sure either of you is going to make it.Â
âJean!â Thereâs a flash of brown hair and Jeanâs being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bulletâs made its way through.Â
You also see the tree is almost over top of you. Youâve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when thereâs nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. Itâs horrible, you know it, but thereâs nothing you can do about it.Â
Even as youâre desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. âFlux, duck!â The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground.Â
Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You donât even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, thereâs so much adrenaline pumping through you, you canât focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat.Â
You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You donât hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadnât taken down before, the beam took care of the rest.Â
You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you canât find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand.Â
You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze youâd had earlier. âOh my god,â Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look.Â
You want to ask her whatâs wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Loganâs arms are bracketing her. Heâs practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast.Â
But that doesnât make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesnât ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesnât want him. The anger youâre feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings.Â
Itâs not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someoneâs dug razor blades in your skin and ripped.Â
Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. âWhat the fuck did you do?â He practically growls, lunging towards Scott.Â
He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you donât want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like itâs being forcefully exposed and plucked at.Â
Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black.Â
When you wake up, youâre on your stomach. Youâre a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but thereâs a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. âDonât move,â Jean warns from somewhere behind you.Â
You try and look for her but you canât move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. âWhat happened? Why canât I move?â
Her shoes appear in front of you and then sheâs kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. âWe needed to make sure you didnât roll over in your sleep.â Her brows crinkle and she frowns, âYou donât remember?â You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple.Â
The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage.Â
Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged.Â
She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. Itâs dulled and you donât know if theyâve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. âHowâs Scott?âÂ
She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. âHe feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.â
The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasnât his fault, heâd helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you.Â
You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadnât helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didnât bring much comfort, though. âIâm not mad at him.â
Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but itâs still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. âI know, but heâll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.â
You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you donât think her answer would make you feel any better. âHe did,â she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation.Â
âOut of my head,â you warn. She releases you with a small grin. âI donât care,â you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant.Â
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. âYes, you do. And I donât need telepathy to know.â She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. âHe was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.â
âDonât care,â you tell her again, but thereâs less conviction this time.Â
Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. Itâs not her fault heâs desperately in love with her and not you. You canât force someone to love you or choose you. And you donât want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldnât have their first choice.Â
âDonât,â you say lowly. âDonât apologize, itâs not your fault.â
She doesnât get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, âYouâre awake.â
âCharles told us,â Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott.Â
Petty, youâre aware. But you donât want to see Logan right now. Youâd put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesnât even matter if he doesnât feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didnât even try to help you when you needed him the most.Â
So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You canât make yourself face him. You donât want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.
Eventually, Scottâs guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand.Â
âWhatâre you doing?â
You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. âGetting comfortable,â you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens.Â
He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. âRight.â He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. âIâll come back when youâre feeling a little better.â You donât miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way heâs calling out youâre unusual behavior.Â
âI think thatâd be best.â
He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way heâd been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated.Â
Youâre sure he doesnât even give a shit. Heâs probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him.Â
What the fuck?
Itâs all thatâs been playing through Loganâs head since he returned from your room in the medbay. Heâs waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety thatâs been plaguing him.Â
Heâd thought that heâd lost you in that forest. When heâd gone for Jean, heâd assumed youâd just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you.Â
Honestly, he canât put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So heâd moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire.Â
And then you hadnât saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He canât escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams.Â
Heâd thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldnât move, couldnât help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you werenât dead.Â
He didnât know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you.Â
Heâd, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. Heâd prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadnât expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess.Â
Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that itâs unfair to be upset with you. Youâd gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, youâd act off.Â
Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. Heâs tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense.Â
Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesnât want to do anything he might regret while heâs pissed off. Heâll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, youâll be back to normal.Â
Youâd thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. Heâs back today and you can smell the breakfast food heâs brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag.Â
But you know itâs from the restaurant thatâs twenty minutes out of his way. Youâre not petty enough that you canât appreciate the forty-minute round trip heâd taken for you, but you still arenât excited to see him.Â
âHey, sweetheart,â he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you.Â
You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while youâre pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know heâs aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip.Â
You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you donât have to look at him. Youâre sick of giving your all to men who couldnât care less about you.Â
Youâre tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But heâd chosen Jean. You should have known.Â
âAlright,â he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. Youâre pissed off that heâs acting like heâs the one who was hurt. âWhat the hell is your problem? Youâve never been this mad at me before.â
Itâs his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what heâs done wrong. He doesnât even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?
Yes, youâre shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions.Â
âYou left me to die,â you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. Youâve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But youâd never plainly shown anger at him. âYou fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,â you scoff and shove the food back towards him.Â
âYou think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?â His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesnât know how you feel about him. He doesnât know that this would hurt you so bad.Â
But, it doesnât matter. Youâre still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern.Â
Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. âI thought you could take care of yourself. Isnât that what youâre always bitching at us about?â
If you werenât so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.
âFuck you, Logan,â you snap back at him. âYou didnât give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.â You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue.Â
He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know heâs pacing so he doesnât do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room.Â
âThatâs what this is, youâre jealous? Donât blame your fucking incompetence on me.â You hate the way heâs speaking to you. Like youâre a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off.Â
The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. âIâm your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.â
He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until heâs aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. âDonât fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasnât some goddamn ploy to get into Jeanâs pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!â
You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. Itâs an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. Itâs infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think youâre nothing more than a crybaby.Â
Loganâs face pales and he winces, backing away from you. âI didnât-â
âEnough,â you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, itâs an unspoken agreement between the two of you. Thatâs a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, youâre nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another.Â
Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up.Â
âI appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasnât even to protect me says a lot.â You take in a deep breath and shake your head. âThanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?â
He looks like he doesnât want to. You know he doesnât want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasnât a lot said, itâs still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things werenât what you thought.Â
Itâs healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know itâs just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. âI-â
âGet out,â you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. âShit,â you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesnât matter. You shouldnât have lost control at all.Â
The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest.Â
You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to.Â
You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her.Â
Youâre permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You donât see or hear from Logan for the following week. You canât confirm if heâs purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You donât know how itâs possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him.Â
You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You donât want to ache and cry over someone who doesnât give two shits about you.Â
You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But itâs more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him.Â
Besides, you hadnât realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. Itâs so difficult for you to bond with people that when youâd connected with Logan youâd latched onto him.Â
Itâs a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You donât let yourself linger on the question for long.Â
Itâs as your training with the students that you finally see him again.Â
âHas he made much progress yet?â
Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire.Â
His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldnât start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated.Â
That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But youâd been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasnât trying sometimes.Â
Heâd asked Rogue out a week ago and when sheâd said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But youâd seen the look in his eye.Â
Youâre fifty percent sure he knows exactly what heâs doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadnât brought the issue to Charles yet because youâre trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.Â
âBilly,â you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You canât help the sneer on your lips. âJust take a deep breath and try again. Thereâs nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.â
You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isnât buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, âRight. Sorry, I forgot youâre a fuck-up just like me.â
âBilly!â Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesnât get far before thereâs a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you.Â
Thereâs no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but thereâs a hand underneath your skull softening the blow.Â
You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where youâd just been. Jeanâs standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, âAre you okay?â
Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices youâre okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position.Â
âYou alright,â his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt.Â
He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When heâs properly assured youâre okay he jumps to his feet. âBilly!â His voice booms across the courtyard and itâs the first time youâve ever seen that little asshole scared.Â
Heâs barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. âWe need to have a little talk,â the tone of his voice has you a little scared and youâre not even the one heâs mad at.Â
Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. âIs your back okay?â
âYeah,â you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. âYeah, Iâm fine. I canât believe he did that.â
Jean scoffs and glares towards Billyâs back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. âJean! He got you, are you okay?â
She glances down at her shirt and frowns. âYeah, practically a sunburn.â She gives you a reassuring smile, âIâll be fine.â
As shitty as this sounds, youâre not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever.Â
Youâre not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but youâre running after him before Jean can stop you. Heâs barely got a minute headstart on you, youâre not sure why you canât find him. Youâd gone through every inch of the first floor.Â
You donât know where he would have dragged Billy, but itâs nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that youâre ever going to figure out whatâs happening inside his brain.Â
You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You canât believe that little shit tried to roast you. Youâre not comfortable with the fact that heâs just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere.Â
You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. âLogan,â you give him a strained smile. âI was looking for you.â You glance over his shoulder and frown. âWhereâs Billy?â
Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. âWheels got to him before I could do anything.â
You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. âWhat were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?â
He doesnât find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. âHe was really trying to hurt you.â
His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. âYeah, I wanted to,â god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had.Â
âYouâre always my priority.â He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. âSaving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.â
You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. âI know, thatâs not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.â
âNo,â you stop him and shake your head. âNo, Logan, I shouldnât. I,â your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea.Â
âI liked you in a way you didnât like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.â You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and youâre not sure he even understood half of what you said.Â
His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. Youâre not sure if itâs a good or bad thing that heâs smiling. You canât tell if heâs mocking you or about to profess his undying love.Â
You donât have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until youâre practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, youâre drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him.Â
âWhat are you doing?â Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up.Â
âIâm gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.â His lips brush across your own and itâs like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until youâre practically melting into him.Â
Itâs everything youâve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order.Â
You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, heâd tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing heâd ever held.Â
That would be nice, but this is better. Heâs not holding you like youâre something fragile or something too precious for this world. Heâs kissing you like youâre the very air he needs to survive. Heâs greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants.Â
Youâre being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all youâve ever wanted with him, from him.Â
Sadly, you do have to breathe. Youâre the one that forces the stop, youâre sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips.Â
You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You donât mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. âForgive me yet?â
You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. âWhy donât you do that again and Iâll think about it?â
He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. âYouâre really gonna make me work for it, huh?â
You smile and nod, leaning into him again. âYouâre never gonna hear the end of it,â you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You canât believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you.Â
He didnât choose Jean over you. Heâs just a dumbass.Â
a/n: I had to resist putting in a âpick me, choose me, love meâ line in there bc that would have just been too much lol
end. â I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved Š not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte Â
@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl âĄÂ
3K notes
¡
View notes
Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious
Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.
Word Count: 17.4k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)
i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.
i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!
warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader
You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.
At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.
It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhDâs for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.
After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didnât know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think youâve got the hang of it.
You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.
Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. âYou done for the day, sweetheart?â
You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldnât have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.
When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.
Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.
âJust about,â you replied, straightening the stack. âI was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?â
Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. âCanât a guy just drop by and check in on ya?â
You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. âI guess, but somehow I doubt youâre just here to âcheck in.ââ You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. âSo, whatâs up?â
Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. âYouâve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.â
You raised an eyebrow. âIâll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesnât take me long. Unlike someone else.â
Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlinâ."
You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. âYouâre just mad because I keep proving Iâm right.â You rounded your desk, smirking. âPlus, Iâm having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.â
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. âMovie night, huh? Lemme guessâsomething boring and science-y?â
You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. âNot every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.â
âMmhmm,â he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didnât believe you for a second. âSo, what are you watchinâ, then? Some quantum physics thriller?â
You rolled your eyes, grinning. âItâs The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so donât knock them.â
Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. âIâll let it slide this time, darlinâ. But if I hear you talkinâ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your âbreak,â Iâm dragging you out of that mansion myself.â
You gave him a mock-serious look. âYou wouldnât dare.â
âOh, I would,â he shot back, his smirk widening. âAnd we both know I could.â
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasnât wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you upâliterallyâand dragging you away when he thought youâd been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.
Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. âLook, Y/N, Iâm serious. Youâve been bustinâ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?â
There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. âIâll take it easy tonight. Promise.â
âGood,â he said, his voice gruff but warm. ââCause I donât wanna hear about you passinâ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.â
You walked to the door and turned back to face him, âEinstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.â You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.
Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everythingâwhether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missionsâhad caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.
He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an areaâyour perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought heâd never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.
And that was why he found you so fascinating.
You were brilliant, no doubt about itâalways talking about equations, theories, and whatever else youâd been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.
It wasnât like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.
Everyone except you, apparently.
You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Loganâs eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldnât. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you werenât around.
---
Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though youâd seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.
You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfitsâleggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldnât remember who. Loganâs scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.
You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.
âI still donât get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,â Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. âLike, shouldnât it be cheesy?â
âIt is cheesy,â you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. âBut itâs good cheesy. Thereâs a difference.â
Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. âYouâve seen this how many times now?â
âDonât judge me,â you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. âThis is a classic.â
Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. âMore classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.â
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. âNot every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.â
Ororo smiled knowingly. âMmm, true, but youâre always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.â
âThatâs because science is everywhere!â you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. âYou canât not notice when somethingâs wrong.â
Jean grinned. âLike that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesnât work like that?â
You huffed a laugh. âWell, it doesnât. Itâs allââ
âScience, we know,â Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.
âOkay, okay,â you conceded, holding up your hands. âIâll try not to nerd out tonight.â
âThatâs all we ask,â Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.
For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.
When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. âAlright, Iâm heading to bed. Iâve got an early class tomorrow.â
âSame,â Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.
âGuess Iâll get ready for bed too, then.â You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororoâs room was close by theirs.
Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.
Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.
You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis youâd created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.
You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.
There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?
âY/N?â Loganâs voice came from the other side. âYou still awake?â
Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothesâan oversized t-shirt and shortsâbefore cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.
âLogan? Itâs kind of late. Whatâs up?â you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.
He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. âCame by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.â
You blinked, taken aback. âA walk? Now?â
âYeah,â he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. âYouâre always sayinâ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe youâd want some fresh air.â
You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldnât deny the appeal of a nighttime walkâespecially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.
âAlright,â you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. âLet me put on some shoes.â
Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.
âReady,â you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.
Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldnât help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.
âSo,â Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, âhow was the movie?â
You smiled, glancing at him. âIt was good. A classic, really.â
He raised an eyebrow. âUh-huh. Jean and Ororo didnât give you a hard time?â
You chuckled. âWell, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.â
Logan smirked. âYeah, they like to tease. Just means theyâre comfortable around ya.â
You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didnât say much, but that was one of the things you liked about himâhe didnât need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just⌠there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didnât realize you needed it at the time.
âSo, Logan,â you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, âwhatâs the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didnât just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.â
He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. âMaybe I like the scenery more than I let on.â
âRight,â you teased, arching an eyebrow. âBecause Iâve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.â
âWho says Iâm talkinâ about the roses, sweetheart?â
You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. âUh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.â
There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one youâd grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing youâsoft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasnât like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.
You gave him a sidelong glance, but Loganâs expression remained as it usually didâa little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.
âYâknow,â Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, âyou really are a mystery, sweetheart.â
You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. âWhat do you mean by that?â
Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. âYouâre this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes⌠youâre completely clueless.â
You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. âClueless? Me? I donât think thatâs possible.â
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. âYeah, darlinâ. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readinâ people? Not so much.â
Your frown deepened. âI think I read people just fine, Logan.â
He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. âOh, do ya?â
âYeah,â you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. âI spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.â
Loganâs smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. âIs that so?â
You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. âYes, thatâs so. What are you getting at?â
Loganâs grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.
âYouâre dodging the question,â you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. âWhat are you getting at?â
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. âIâm just sayinâ, for someone whoâs supposed to be a genius, you donât always see whatâs right in front of you.â
You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. âI see everything just fine, Logan. Youâre not exactly subtle, you know.â
âSubtle, huh?â Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. âMaybe Iâm not. Or maybe youâre just a little too focused on the wrong things.â
You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didnât offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery heâd planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.
âThis is just another one of your games, isnât it?â you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. âYou like keeping me guessing.â
âMaybe,â he said with a wink. âKeeps things interestinâ, donât ya think?â
You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You werenât going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.
Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Loganâs presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.
âYou know,â you began after a while, your voice softer now, âjust because Iâm a genius doesnât mean Iâm completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.â
Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. âSure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.â
âIâm serious!â you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. âI just⌠maybe Iâm not as concerned with peopleâs motives as much as I am with facts and data. Itâs different.â
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. âThatâs part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like itâs a puzzle. But people? Weâre a little more complicated than that.â
You tilted your head, thinking about that. âI donât see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, donât they?â
Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. âNot always.â
There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.
âAnyway,â he said, changing the subject, âhowâs your latest project goinâ? Still messing with those gadgets?â
You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. âYeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hankâs been helping me out with some of the materials, but weâre having trouble stabilizing the energy output.â
Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. âSounds like somethinâ youâll figure out soon enough.â
âI hope so,â you said with a small smile. âBut itâs been a little frustrating.â
âNot used to runninâ into roadblocks, huh?â Logan teased.
âNot really,â you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. âIâm used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This oneâs been⌠tricky.â
Logan gave a low hum of understanding. âThatâs the thing about science, sweetheart. It ainât always predictable.â
âYeah, but I like predictability,â you said with a shrug. âIt makes sense. People, on the other handâŚâ
Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. âI guess I canât argue with that.â
The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topicsâprojects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.
As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didnât understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didnât seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet⌠here he was.
âLogan?â you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
âYeah?â he replied, his gaze shifting to you.
âWhy do you do this?â
He frowned, genuinely confused. âDo what?â
âWalk with me. Spend time with me. Youâre not exactly the most sociable guy around here.â
Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. âMaybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?â
You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasnât like Logan to be so direct about⌠feelings. You werenât sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.
âI guess I never really thought about it,â you admitted after a moment.
Loganâs smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. âThatâs âcause youâre too busy thinkinâ about everythinâ else, doll.â
You didnât respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasnât one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question thingsâyourself, your understanding of the worldâwithout ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was⌠endearing.
As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldnât help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being âclueless.â It wasnât like you didnât notice thingsâsure, people had their layers, but you werenât blind to them. So what was he talking about?
---
The next morning, you were back in your usual routineâteaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didnât mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.
After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.
The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.
âDidnât expect to see you here,â you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.
Logan shrugged. âFigured Iâd stop by. See how youâre doinâ.â
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. âYou checking up on me again?â
He chuckled. âSomeoneâs gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.â
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. âIâm fine, Logan. Really.â
âYeah, I know,â he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. âBut it doesnât hurt to check in every now and then.â
Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.
âYou ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?â You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "Iâve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.â
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. âWild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.â
He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didnât think much of it, but Loganâs smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.
âWell?â you asked, watching him expectantly. âWhat do you think?â
Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. âSweet,â he finally said, his voice low. âReal sweet.â
You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didnât quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. âTold you,â you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. âFresh strawberries are unbeatable.â
He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. âYou take real pride in this, donât ya?â
âOf course,â you said, glancing at him between bites. âThereâs something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. Itâs like⌠I donât know, creating life.â
Loganâs eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. âYou care a lot about the little det- â He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.
You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Loganâs heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.
You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasnât easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climateâs shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though youâd never flaunt it.
Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didnât seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.
âDamn,â he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasnât just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and graceâit was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.
âSomething wrong?â you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.
Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. âNah, just... thinkinâ. Youâre somethinâ, you know that?â
You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. âIf thatâs your way of saying Iâm a genius again, I already know.â
He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. âThatâs not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.â His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.
But as usual, the hint flew right past you. âWell, whatever it is, Iâll take it as a compliment.â You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. âAnd you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.â
âSpecific, huh?â Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. âAlright then, youâre smart, sure. But thereâs more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.â His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.
You frowned a little, confused. âEarlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?â
âYeah,â he said, grinning. âThat.â
You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. âLogan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.â
Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. âYeah, doll. I get that.â He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustratingânot in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.
âSo,â you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. âWhatâs got you wandering into the greenhouse today? Itâs not exactly your usual haunt.â
Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. âJust felt like stoppinâ by. Spend some time with you. Ainât that a good enough reason?â
You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. âI suppose. Itâs just... you donât usually care about plants and stuff.â
âWell, maybe Iâm changinâ,â Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You shook your head, laughing softly. âIâll believe that when I see it.â You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. âSo... you wanna help?â
Logan raised an eyebrow. âMe? Helpinâ with your garden?â
âWhy not?â you asked, stepping closer to him. âYouâve got hands, donât you? Itâs not all that complicated.â
He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. âAlright, sweetheart, show me how itâs done.â
You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. âJust give them a little water. Not too much thoughâthey donât like it when their roots get too wet.â
Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasnât the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.
âYou really know your stuff, donât ya?â Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.
âWell, yeah,â you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. âIâve been doing this for a while. Plus, itâs kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole âcontrolling natureâ thing.â
Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. âYeah, Iâve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you donât talk about âem much.â
âI talk to them.â You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.
âReally?â he asked, surprised.
You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. âNo. I was joking!â
Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. âYou got me there, sweetheart,â he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.
You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I donât have full-on conversations with them. Thatâd be weird."
"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."
You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "Itâs just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."
Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didnât notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"
You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?â
Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"
You handed him the basket full of weeds, âthrow them out.â
He raised an eyebrow, âthatâs it?â
You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.
âMm-hmm,â you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. âIâm gonna lock up and bring these inside.â
Logan didnât move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.
That small, unspoken connection you two hadâthe one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with youâhad started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.
As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. âYouâre still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?â
Loganâs smirk widened. âOh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.â
You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. âRight. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if itâs not too busy.â
Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. âYou got it, doll. Iâll lend a hand.â
Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you likedâjust the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was âbeing a gentleman.â
You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.
You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasnât the first time sheâd done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.
âHey, those are for me,â she said, moving slightly to block Scottâs hand. âIâve been waiting for these kiwis all week.â
Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. âAlright, alright. I wouldnât want to get on your bad side, babe.â
Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. âThanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.â
âOf course,â you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. âYouâve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.â
Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.
âYou sure know how to make people happy, doll,â Logan said, his voice low but teasing. âAlways goinâ above and beyond for everyone.â
You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. âItâs just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.â
Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Loganâs tone. She had noticed the way heâd been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasnât hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you werenât looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.
âYouâre selling yourself short,â Jean said, throwing you a grin. âItâs not just the kiwis. Youâve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott canât admit heâs jealous of my fruit.â
Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. âYeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.â
You smiled at the compliment, though it didnât feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that wayâpredictable, manageable. You didnât dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.
Loganâs smirk widened slightly at Jeanâs comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didnât quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.
You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororoâs office without saying a word, something they were already used to.
âYou sure youâre not going to say anything? You know, thatâs actually straight to the point?â Jean asked Logan.
Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, âat this point, youâre like a love-sick puppy following her around.â
Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. âKeep talking dickhead.â He threatened.
Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "Heâs not wrong though, Logan. Youâve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. Weâve all noticed."
Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "Sheâs a good kid. Someoneâs gotta keep an eye on her."
Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what weâre calling it now?"
Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. âYou know, you could just tell her how you feel. Sheâs oblivious, but sheâs not stupid. Sooner or later, sheâs going to notice.â
Loganâs jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicatedâheâd never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasnât exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.
âSheâs got her own life,â Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. âI ainât lookinâ to mess that up.â
Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. âLogan, youâre not messing anything up. In fact, I think youâd be adding something important to her life. Sheâs not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldnât even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.â
Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. âMaybe thatâs the problem. Sheâs too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.â
Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Loganâs arm. âThatâs what makes her so special, Logan. Sheâs genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesnât play gamesâwhat you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesnât realize it in the same way you do yet.â
Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, âPlus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayinâ.â
Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. âAinât nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.â
Jean chuckled softly, giving Loganâs arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. âWell, when youâre ready, just rememberâitâs okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.â
Logan didnât respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jeanâs support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasnât sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?
Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.
---
You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.
They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.
But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.
Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.
âNeed any help, princess?â
You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.
Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
âNeed any help, princess?â His voice was low and casual, but that nicknameâ'princessââit was just one of the many heâd taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadnât heard this one before.
You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. âIâve got it, thanks,â you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. Youâd known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.
He made a small grunt, as if to say âsuit yourself,â and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.
Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you werenât exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.
He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.
You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Loganâs neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.
"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Loganâs arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.
Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.
You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "Iâm pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didnât sound all that convincing even to you.
"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I donât mind."
You huffed in mock defiance, but you didnât exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan feltâŚnice. Comfortable, even. Not that youâd ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasnât the first time heâd done this.
As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldnât help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasnât the first time youâd seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.
"You know, this couldâve been avoided if Iâd just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.
Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, Iâve seen you rock combat boots and still look like youâre ready for a photoshoot. But those heelsâŚ" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."
You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good onlineâŚ"
He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"
"I didnât get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldnât help but laugh. "Theyâre cute! Just not comfortable."
Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didnât press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.
"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.
"Iâve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.
But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."
You couldnât stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.
As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.
"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.
Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.
"Iâm not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "Theyâre not that bad. I justâŚneed to break them in."
Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."
"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.
"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"
You shot him a look but couldnât help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like thisâplayful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.
"Anyway, shouldnât you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"
His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe Iâm just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."
You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, donât hold your breath."
He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didnât say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of himâof the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.
You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you werenât fully aware of how Loganâs eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind ofâŚnice? Logan wasnât like other guys. He wasnât intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.
"Alright, well, thanks for theâŚuh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think Iâm good now."
Logan didnât move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."
And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughtsâand the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.
---
Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.
Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.
This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.
Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since youâve been here for the past year, youâve already held 4 sessions, including this one.
âCareful with those strawberries,â you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. âWe need them in slices, not chunks.â
âSorry, Y/N,â he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.
You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe youâd written down.
"Howâs it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.
âGood, I think,â Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. âIs this enough?â
You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesnât go everywhere."
Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.
Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.
He couldnât help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.
The sight made him smirkâsomething about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.
âWhatcha got cookinâ, sweetheart?â Loganâs gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.
You didnât glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.
Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. âDepends. Is it any good?â
You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. âYou doubt my baking skills?â
He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. âWouldnât call it doubt, doll. Just curious.â
You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "Youâll have to wait until theyâre done to find out."
One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/Nâs baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last timeâthey were gone in like ten minutes."
Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."
You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didnât comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasnât that you didnât notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didnât think much of it. Guys didnât usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as âone of the guys.â Loganâs pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.
But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didnât seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.
âYou need any help?â Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.
âYouâre not gonna burn the kitchen down?â you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.
âI think I can handle it,â Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.
You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. âHere, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.â
You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.
He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"
His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.
"Yeah, thatâs perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didnât realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."
Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in classâtight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Loganâs proximity felt⌠intense in a way you couldnât quite pinpoint.
"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.
You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I donât know⌠when I was a kid? I just started because itâs a nice break from⌠everything I guess.â
Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jeanâs waist as they watched the scene. âThink sheâll finally realize,â he asked.
Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, âwho knows? But Loganâs certainly getting bolder.â
Jean shook her head, âI told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasnât taken my advice.â
Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isnât exactly his strong suit."
Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesnât seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "Heâs not exactly hiding it."
Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Loganâs efforts. It wasnât that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharpâwhen it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.
"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "Sheâs a genius, but thisâŚ" She waved a hand in Loganâs direction. "This seems to be one thing sheâs totally clueless about."
Jean smiled sympathetically. "Sheâs not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not⌠you know, a woman."
Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. Heâs made that much obvious. But I wonder how long itâll take for her to figure it out."
Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."
The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching youâor how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.
"Sheâs too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."
Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everythingâand to be fair, she does know a lotâbut sheâs missing the whole picture here."
---
After Loganâs stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jeanâs advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.
Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.
Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there werenât any other chairs available.
You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.
âCâmere doll.â Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.
You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. âWhat?â
He patted his thigh, âI donât bite.â
Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. âI, uh- â
Loganâs smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. âCâmon, doll. Donât be shy. Thereâs a perfectly good seat right here.â
You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasnât exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didnât want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.
âAlright,â you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.
Loganâs arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didnât say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, âYou alright there, sweetheart?â
You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. âYeah, Iâm fine,â you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. âJust trying to get comfortable.â
Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.
The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Loganâs hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.
---
At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.
Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.
Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.
Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.
Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and sheâs still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.
"Sheâs a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "Sheâs supposed to know everything."
Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesnât know this. And Iâm in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didnât leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.
Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like sheâs completely missing the point."
"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like sheâs trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. Sheâs too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."
Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "Youâve got the patience of a saint. Most people wouldâve given up by now."
Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ainât in any hurry. Sheâs worth the wait."
Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day sheâll actually catch on."
As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Loganâs attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.
"Youâre like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.
Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.
âLogan!â you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.
He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."
You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Whyâd youâ"
"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkinâ about over there seemed pretty important."
Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! Itâs been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think weâve figured out how toâ"
Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.
"Youâre incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.
You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"
"I said youâre incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where itâs due."
Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."
"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But donât forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ainât good for anyone."
"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.
---
âYouâve never even been clubbing!?â Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. âAnd you know Iâm not talking about something like a âgardening clubâ.â
âAnd you have?â You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.
Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. âOh, Y/N, honey, Iâve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.â
Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "Sheâs right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."
You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I donât know⌠It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."
Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You canât hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."
You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"
Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress youâd forgotten you owned. âWho knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone youâve been completely blind to.â
Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone whoâs been giving you attention for months, perhaps."
Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Letâs see how it looks."
You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jeanâs hands. "I still donât get what the big deal is. Iâm perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."
Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. âTrust us. Youâll thank us later.â
---
A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.
"I canât believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.
Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "Youâre going to have fun. Trust me. Itâs a nice change of pace."
Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. Youâve been working hard."
As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.
You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used toâloud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You werenât sure how you felt about it yet.
Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"
You shrugged, glancing around. "Itâs... different."
"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, youâll feel better."
The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."
You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."
The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldnât be so bad after all.
---
An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.
You donât think youâve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.
So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.
You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. âHere, let me help,â she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.
âIâm fine, Jean!â you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You werenât used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.
Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. âMaybe next time we wonât let you have quite so many drinks,â she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. âYouâre gonna feel this tomorrow.â
âIâm a genius,â you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, âIâll be fine.â
Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. âOh yeah? Even geniuses canât outsmart a hangover.â
You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. âWho put a trap here?â
Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldnât help but join in.
âYou know,â Ororo started between giggles, âfor someone who knows everything, you sure donât know how to handle a drink.â
You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. âItâs... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.â
âRight,â Jean said, leaning back with a grin, âjust like Loganâs flirting.â
You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. âLoganâs what?â
Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.
âHis flirting,â Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.
You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. âFlirting? Logan? With me?â
Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. âYes, Y/N. For months. You seriously havenât noticed?â
You stared at them both, utterly lost. âFlirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?â
Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. âI think youâre too far gone to process this tonight.â
You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didnât make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.
Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. âLetâs get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.â
---
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.
As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?
You shook your head. That couldnât be right. Logan wasnât the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didnât mean anything. Right?
Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.
âMorninâ, doll,â Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.
You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word âflirtingâ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.
âUh... morning,â you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldnât stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. âYou look like hell.â
âGee, thanks,â you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. âThatâs exactly what I wanted to hear.â
Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. âGuess you didnât take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?â
You blinked. âWhat advice?â
âLast night,â he said, smirking, âtold ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.â
Your brow furrowed. âWait, you were there?â
âYeah,â Logan said, clearly amused. âPassed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.â
You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. âWell, Iâll survive.â
Logan gave you a lazy grin. âTough as nails, arenât ya?â
You shrugged, trying to play it off. âI guess so.â
There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. âGood thing. Wouldnât want ya to break, sweetheart.â
Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. âUh... right.â
Loganâs smirk didnât fade as he stepped back. âSee ya around, darlinâ.â
You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldnât quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.
---
It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.
Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didnât like you. You werenât exactly the kind of girl they wanted.
Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldnât.
He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesnât mean heâs too late to apply.
Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadnât seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.
Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.
"Remember to look into some engineering programs! Iâd think theyâd be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.
"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.
You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"
Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."
Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, Iâve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."
Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, donât ya, doll?"
You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.
âYou finally figured it out then, didnât ya?â He asked.
âI- well, uhâŚâ you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by âyou finally figured it outâ? Were Ororo and Jean right?
Loganâs smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "Youâre a genius, sweetheart. Iâm sure youâve noticed by now."
Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How Iâve been flirtinâ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.
Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didnât make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were⌠well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didnât flirt with you.
"Youâve beenâwait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Youâve been flirting with me?"
Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansionâs noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."
Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches⌠it all seemed so⌠normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.
"Iâ" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didnât anyone tell me?"
Logan shrugged. "Didnât think it was their place. Figured youâd catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didnât expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."
You were sure your face couldnât get any redder. "Iâm not⌠Iâm not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didnât think youâd be interested in someone like me."
Loganâs eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"
"Because Iâm⌠me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys donât flirt with me, Logan. Theyâre usually intimidated or just⌠I donât know. Iâm not the kind of girl guys like."
You didnât have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.
Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.
You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two masterâs degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.
One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.
Guys didnât like you. Thatâs just the way it was.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. âThatâs the most ridiculous thing Iâve ever heard, doll. You think guys donât notice you?â
You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. âI donât think, I know. Trust me, Iâve tried.â You paused, hesitating before you added, âIâm not exactly⌠good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. Iâm better at figuring out equations than people.â
Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. âYouâre wrong, sweetheart,â he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. âYouâve got this idea in your head that no oneâs gonna want you because youâre too smart or too different, but that ainât true. Not even close.â
You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. âI just⌠I donât see why youâd be interested in me,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. âYouâre Logan. You could have anyone.â
Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. âYeah, but I donât want just anyone.â His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. âI want you.â
Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with youâLogan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy youâd come to admire over the past yearâand youâd been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?
âI⌠I donât understand,â you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. âWhy me?â
Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. âBecause youâre brilliant, Y/N. Youâve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. Youâre one of the smartest people Iâve ever met, and you donât let anyone push you around. And youâre so damn kind, even when you donât have to be.â He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. âYouâve got no idea how many times Iâve wanted to tell you, but⌠well, youâre not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.â
You blinked. âIâm not?â
Logan smirked. âNo, sweetheart, youâre not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.â
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. âIâm sorry,â you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. âI just didnât think you⌠I didnât think anyone would⌠you know.â
Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. âWell, I do,â he said, his voice low. âAnd Iâve been waitinâ for you to figure it out.â
You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadnât noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Logan, IâŚ" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didnât know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasnât a joke or a misunderstanding.
He really liked you.
Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? Thatâs a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.
You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Itâs just⌠I didnât think youâd be interested in someone like me. Youâre Logan, and IâmâŚ" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."
Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hellâs that supposed to mean?"
You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didnât last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.
He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.
Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldnât help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.
"You really think Iâd waste my time on someone I didnât want?" Loganâs voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadnât heard before.
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?
"Logan, IâŚ" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so closeâit was too much.
He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, youâre overthinking again."
Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "Iâm just⌠surprised. I didnât thinkâŚ" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.
No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and⌠normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.
Because you werenât just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-
Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. âHey, stop thinkinâ. What the hell could you be thinkinâ about right now?â
You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. âNothinâ,â you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasnât buying it.
Loganâs brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "Youâre a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.
You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just⌠I donât get why youâd want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "Youâre this⌠badass, Logan. Youâve been through so much. You could have anyone."
His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I donât want anyone else. I want you."
You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldnât deny the sincerity in his voice.
"I justâŚ" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I donât know how to do this, Logan. Iâm not⌠Iâve never been good at⌠people. Relationships. I mean, Iâm good at math, science, and solving problems but notâthis."
Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You donât gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "Thatâs all Iâve ever wanted."
Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasnât a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadnât dated muchâhardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldnât quite solve.
"Logan, IâŚ" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.
"You overthinkinâ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.
You couldnât help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Thatâs what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You donât gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just⌠let it happen."
You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.
"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryinâ to solve it like itâs some kinda problem. Just be with me."
You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldnât help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you werenât good enough at this? What ifâ
Loganâs hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, youâre doinâ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "Youâre thinkinâ too much."
You sighed, biting your lip again. "I canât help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "Thatâs just how my brain works."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlinâ. But you donât gotta do that with me."
His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just⌠be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didnât expect you to be anything but yourself.
"IâŚ" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I donât know how to not overthink things."
Loganâs smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then Iâll just have to distract you, wonât I?"
Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.
Logan was kissing you.
Logan.
Was kissing.
You.
Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasnât what you expectedânothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious⌠it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
If you wouldâve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you wouldâve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Loganâs shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasnât how youâd imagined your first kiss would go. Not that youâd spent a lot of time imagining itâhonestly, youâd been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldnât have been it. Not with a man like Logan.
His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyoneâs expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.
When he pulled back, it wasnât by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Loganâs lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.
âWell,â he drawled, voice low and teasing, âthat didnât seem too bad, did it?â
You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. âI⌠I donâtâwhat just happened?â
Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. âI just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless Iâm readinâ the situation wrong, you didnât mind too much.â
Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. âNo, Iââ You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. âI didnât mind. Itâs justââ
âJust what?â Loganâs voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.
âI wasnât expecting it.â You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. âI didnât think someone like you⌠I mean, I didnât think you would- I didnât think anyone would- â
Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didnât, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. âDidnât think what, sweetheart?â
You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldnât figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just⌠I donât know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Loganâs lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You donât know, or you donât wanna say?"
You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of itâsoft, unexpected, but not unwelcomeâwas playing on a loop in your head. You hadnât been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.
But you couldnât lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.
A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasnât expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.
Loganâs eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved Iâve still got it."
You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didnât seem to mind at all. Loganâs smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.
"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."
Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I donât know. I mean, youâre a couple of hundred years old. Thought you mightâve lost your touch."
Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldnât think of a single thing to say. Loganâs confidence was overwhelming, but it wasnât just thatâthere was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.
"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."
Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "âCause I donât wanna hear any more about me beinâ rusty or old. Got it?"
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."
chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!
1K notes
¡
View notes