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areyouwell · 3 months ago

Text

Philophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of love. Children or adults with Philophobia may experience cases of extreme loneliness due to this condition.

Ch.3

Ch.1 <--

Ch.2 <--

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: uhhhh mild (?) descriptions of grief, logan romance or Lomance ™️, unfortunate Harry Potter inspiration... you'll see what I mean :(

Word count: 15.6k (oh fuck me)

A/N: i didn't think it would be this long genuinely i am gagged like what in the dissertation is this??? bisexual icon reader because slay boots that's why. also i don't see Logan as this harsh, dominating alpha male he's a sad grumpy man who just craves intimacy in any way he can get it, or he is in this fic <3

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside (lmk if you wanna be added lovelies)

Since when did you gnaw at your cuticles? How long had you been picking at your lips? Anxiety had plagued your body throughout your morning workout, deafening music doing nothing to drown out those starving nerves eating through your insides. Fuck you didn’t want to do this, why the hell had you let him convince you this was a good idea. You’d barely eaten anything all day in fear that if you put anything in your mouth that wasn’t water, it would just come back up again.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone today. Sure, you’d seen people, and they’d tried talking to you, but you mainly just nodded absently through the conversation, only contributing an occasional hum or bland “Yep.” Rumour had of course spread that you were to begin teaching again today, especially after Storm had caught you leaving the Professor’s office that morning, looking as if you’d just confessed to first-degree murder. Charles had, of course, thought it was a wonderful idea to get you back into teaching. However, he offered you several words of warning around trying to use whatever new extent your powers had reached and had given you strict instructions to only use what you were used to.

In all honesty, you hadn’t intended on using your powers at all, but you guessed it all depended on Logan’s teaching methods. And you had a feeling they were quite hands-on. You pulled again at the loose skin on your lip you’d been picking again, feeling the sharp skin as it came loose, iron dusting your tongue, crimson dusting your fingertips as you could do nothing but wait, listening to the mocking ticking of the clock. You clamped down on your bleeding lip, that metallic taste now flooding your mouth as you absently sucked on the hurt. It helped keep your mind from racing.

“You look like you’re gonna throw up,”

You loosened a breath as Logan strode down the hallway to the danger room, looking as self-assured as ever. Self-confident asshole.

“Would you think less of me if I told you I already have?” You half-joked, hoping he didn’t see right through you to the truth in your words. You’d thrown up this morning, after your workout. Though any hope that he took you at face value died when his harsh features softened.

“Never,” he responded, and you felt a wave of calm wash over your chest. You weren’t doing this alone, you had to remember that. You were helping, not leading the class. Nothing more than a teaching assistant. The idea put you at ease, though not more than Logan’s presence did.

The school bell rang out on the floors above you, and though it sounded distant, it very much sounded like your funeral toll. You scraped your nails through your hair. “I take it back, I don’t wanna do this anymore. Why did I agree? Why did I let you convince me?” You gestured to him wildly, your other hand braced on your hip in an attempt to catch your escaping breath. “I mean, fuck I haven’t done this in years. Years, Logan! And I wasn’t even good at it back then!” you panicked, exasperated at the whole situation.

Though your entire train of thought came to an abrupt halt when he gently took your flailing wrist in his hands, one of his thumbs smoothing circles against the back of your palm. “You’re gonna be fine. You did this for five years before you left, and teaching ain’t one of those skills you just forget,” he squeezed your hand gently, and you couldn’t find anything else to look at other than his earnest eyes.

“How did you know I taught for five years?” you asked quietly, careful not to make any sudden moves in case he remembered he was still holding your hand and let you go.

Logan shrugged a little. “People talk, and there was a lot of talk around you when those rumours started,”

“Not that you believed them, of course,” you found peace in the teasing, and your heart skipped a beat when you recognised relief on his face.

“Not a single word,” he winked, and you laughed slightly. It seemed Logan had a knack for bringing you back from the brink of whatever kind of breakdown you were moments away from having. You took a calming breath, feeling your nerves settle.

“Alright, what’s the lesson for today then, Professor,”

Logan rolled his eyes, snorting a laugh at the deliberate use of that title. “Thought we’d start easy, just do teamwork exercises, nothin’ too intense. Thought it might play into your strengths more,” You felt like you could cry. Theoretical teamwork you were fantastic at, teaching others how to work together you could do until the sun went down. There was a small kernel of hope in your heart that you wouldn’t have to put any of this into practice. That was where your teaching fell a little short.

“Okay… yeah, okay, I can do that, just as long as we don’t have to do it too. More of a ‘fuck this I’ll do it myself’ kinda gal,” you admitted with a sheepish laugh.

If he was being honest with himself, Logan didn’t peg you as the kind of person to just go off on her own. He didn’t know why he assumed you’d be good at teamwork, maybe it was because you’d been part of the X-men for far longer than he had, so automatically assumed you’d just be inherently good at it. What he hadn’t taken into account, was the fact that you’d been away for two years with nobody but yourself to rely on. Maybe this wasn’t such a good start after all, especially since his teaching methods were very… involved.

“Demonstrations are a part of the class…” he said with a raised brow, though before you could reply fuck a definitive ‘fuck no’, the lift at the end of the hallway slid open, and your students for the day all filed out, deep in conversation with each other and each wearing a black suit, modified and trimmed to fit each mutation. Marie and Bobby lead the small group, followed by Peter, Julian, Jubilee and, to your surprise, Kitty, who sent you an enthusiastic wave.

You cocked your head to the side, wondering why on earth Kitty was still taking classes before Logan leaned down to your ear. “Thought ya might need some moral support.” He’d noticed how close you and Kitty seemed to be, and so had asked her this morning if she’d attend his class. She, of course, gave him a bunch of knowing looks and sly comments but agreed in a heartbeat. And your smile of wondrous disbelief was worth every bite of his tongue.

Your eyes flickered between his as you searched for the right words, having to settle on a whispered “Thank you,” before turning back to the students, still a little lost in your daze as Logan started to explain the point of today’s class. A comforting warmth had settled around your heart with the complete knowledge and belief that Logan had your back, there was no way you could doubt that at this point.

“Now, Jubilee and Julian, I know you two are newer to this than the rest of the students here, but from what I’ve seen so far, ya won’t have much of a problem. Any questions ‘fore we start?” Logan asked, looking at each student individually, though deliberately missing Kitty out. She knew far too much for her own good, and the sole reason for her presence was for your benefit. The class shook their heads, each of them as eager as the last to start the exercise. And with a quick glance to you, he saw you give him a determined nod. “Alright then, let’s go,” he nodded for them all to make their way inside, the simulation already having started to take shape.

You took a deep breath, before following suit, Logan closing the doors behind you. “Y’alright bub?” he asked quietly, and you flashed him a nervous smile.

“Never better,” it was an obvious lie, but at this point, you didn’t feel the need to hide it. He’d already proven himself trustworthy with your thoughts.

“You’re doing great,”

“I haven’t done anything yet!”

“And you’ve been great at it.” He smirked at your frown, once again flicking the centre of your forehead. Though you waved him off, it did help to smooth the wrinkles that had formed between your brows. “Trust yourself a little more, yeah?”

Your smile was anything but genuine, and honestly, you hoped he saw how spiteful it was. “I’ll try,” was all you said, before jogging a little to catch up with the others. Logan sighed as he watched you disappear through the dense forest. He’d picked this simulation for a reason. Mainly because the whole mission took place during the night, and through the aforementioned forest. Plenty of shadows for you to disappear into if things got too much or you needed a break. There was a small part of him that hoped you realised that, and an equally small part of him that hoped you’d never catch on.

“A stealth rescue mission with a time limit, my favourite…” you heard Bobby quip sarcastically, and you silently chuckled. He always did have some kind of comment to make, whether it be helpful or just simply funny. You heard Marie giggle, and looked between the two of them, noticing the way her gaze fell to his lips most of the time. You really fucking hoped you weren’t that obvious with Logan.

Though one look from Kitty told you that you were. God fucking damnit.

“Okay… so how do we go about this? We don’t even know where we’re going or what we’re looking for, and it’s not like we can see much cuz we’re in a damn forest!” Jubilee lamented, and you had the urge to tell her to watch her language. Maybe getting back into teaching wasn’t so hard after all.

“Not one of us has any kind of enhanced sight? Jubilee, can’t you sense electromagnetic fields or something?” Marie asked a little desperately. None of them seemed too keen to fail at the first hurdle.

“That’s not how my mutation works, Rogue. I can produce and wield light and energy, not sense it,” she responded, opening her palm and creating a small ball of sparking, multicoloured light in her hand.

“Okaaay… Julian?” Rogue turned to the boy, who shook his head in response.

“Telekinesis,” was all he said.

You sighed, folding your arms across your chest. Maybe you could help them out, just a little… “So if not one of you can do something, maybe a few of you can?” you prompted, causing the group to turn to you. Taking a breath, you stepped forward, a smile of understanding pulling at your lips. “You’re establishing strengths and weaknesses. That’s good, keep going down that track,” you encouraged, watching as they all formed back into a circle, considering your words. It filled you with an old, familiar sense of pride, and Kitty quickly shot you a double thumbs up, before dipping her head back into the circle.

Logan stood behind you, leaning against the thick trunk of a tree. Honestly, he had no fucking clue how they were going to figure out where to go or what to do, and if it were him in this situation, he’d simply just pick a direction or follow his nose. You, however, seemed to already have a plan figured out. It was impressive.

Much like everything else you did.

“Okay, so we all agree?” Marie asked to a chorus of nodding heads. “Right, Bobby you set up the slide, Peter, see if you can find a log big enough to shield Kitty from Jubilee. Julian, you just get ready to catch her,” Each student set about their tasks instantly, Bobby placing his hand on the floor. You observed as sheets of ice started blanketing a wide path in front of him, curling the far end into a slope. Peter returned with a hollowed-out tree trunk that looked more like a bobsled than anything else, and you had a feeling he may have done that on purpose.

Jubilee looked as if she was about to vomit. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” she asked, wringing her hands out in front of her. You felt for the girl, knowing what that kind of stress felt like. Julian placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded silently, encouragingly. The sight was achingly familiar, and you couldn’t help but glance at Logan behind you.

Though you weren’t expecting him to already be looking at you.

Something you would unpack later.

You turned back in time to see Bobby freezing two sharp blades to the bottom of Kitty’s boots, and the understanding dawned on you. Oh, fucking hell these kids were insane. They were about to launch Kitty above the treeline.

Your eyes widened, hands balling at your sides in a physical display of restraint. This could only end badly. You couldn’t see a scenario where this went well, and you’d fucking encouraged them. To hell with the exercise, you wouldn’t let them endanger themselves like this. You took a step forward to stop them in their tracks before a large hand settled on your shoulder.

“Give ‘em a chance,” Logan whispered, and you looked over at him. He blinked at your expression, not having seen this kind of fear on your face yet. You told him you worried too much when you were a teacher, but this was heart-stopping terror. His arms ached to pull you in, chest itching to feel you against it, but he couldn’t. Not here anyway. “I won’t let anythin’ happen to ‘em, okay? I promise,” his palm moved to cup your jaw, thumb tracing a line from your chin to your ear.

You closed your eyes, listening to that strange, primal need to be near to him, leaning into his touch ever so slightly and willing yourself to believe him. To believe in them. The smell of him consumed you; pine needles, woodsmoke and whiskey. Was it a deliberate cologne or did he just naturally smell this good? You didn’t know and to be quite honest, at that moment, you didn’t care.

“Okay…” you voice barely above a whisper, opening your eyes to find yourself instantly captivated in his intense gaze. Pupils blown in the darkness, flickering from your eyes to the rest of your face, before finally down to your lips. And there they lingered, to a point where you could no longer deny that what you felt was just friendship. And you didn’t want it to be. You didn’t want to just have a friendship with him. You wanted him in ways you hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Maybe ever. “Logan…”

Your voice was a symphony to him, a cooling balm for his ears. Saying his name like that, in a way, he felt like it didn’t deserve to be said, shattered his resolve. Leaning down, he angled his head to the left, shivering at the way your breath fanned his lips. Fuck, he could taste you, taste the cherry-flavoured chapstick you used. He could taste the slight hint of mint where you’d brushed your teeth that morning. Taste something else he couldn’t identify but was distinctly you.

A hair’s breadth between you, all it would take was a micromovement before his lips were on yours. You wondered if he could hear your pulse quicken. If he could hear your heartbeat race. Could he see the desire in your eyes? Could he smell just how badly you wanted him?

All these questions you were millimetres away from knowing the answers to before Peter’s voice shattered the illusion.

“Ready?” he boomed, and you jerked your head back, searching his face for an unspoken explanation as to what the fuck was happening before you whipped your head around and finally came back to reality. You didn’t have time to so much as scream before Jubilee extended her hands toward the vertical hollow log, held by Colossus, containing Kitty. Peter stepped back, allowing the blast of explosive energy to hit the centre of the log and send her rocketing forward, the wood suddenly lighting up green as Julian caught it briefly with his telekinesis, leaving Kitty to shoot up the slope alone, her makeshift skates scratching on the ice.

Logan’s hand fell from your neck back to your shoulder, squeezing gently in reassurance as you watched her disappear through a gap in the canopy above, your heart in your throat.

“You got her Julian?” Marie called, and you looked at the boy, his hand outstretched, a low hum accompanying a faint green light above. He was holding her up there, giving her as much time as he could for her to survey their surroundings and find where they needed to go. It was a sight to behold, though you couldn’t quite let out your held breath just yet, Kitty was still a good eighty feet above the ground.

“Found it!” you heard her shout from the sky before the green glow stuttered slightly. Your eyes flickered from the skies to Julian, who’s hand was trembling from the strain. He was still a kid, effectively, and he still hadn’t developed his mutation properly. Taking a step forward, you made to pull away from Logan, already formulating a plan to catch Kitty with your own mutation. If you timed it right, you could minimise the impact by dissolving and reforming both of you. You’d done it a few times before, but it took a toll on both you and the recipient, having to keep a tight hold on their consciousness whilst in shadow. It took more concentration than you had right now, but you didn’t see any other way.

“Wait.” Logan stopped you, his hand on your shoulder tightening, stopping you from launching forward. He needed you to see. He needed you to see you didn’t need to constantly be worried about them. He’d taught most of these kids for the last almost two years, he knew what they were capable of. You’d been gone for a while, he understood that, but he needed you to see that you didn’t need to step in all the time. You didn’t have to save them anymore. You didn’t have to be scared anymore. Not for them.

Julian’s hand fell to his side, the boy bending at the waist panting as the green glow sputtered out completely, the hum of his ability fading away. You knew Kitty was falling, but how far you couldn’t say, losing sight of her now there was no longer an aura around her. Logan felt you shift under his grip, but he held firm. You had to watch.

Kitty phased through the canopy, and you hadn’t noticed Peter positioning himself beneath. A shining coat of metal materialised across his skin as he jumped to her, catching her safely in his arms before landing with a heavy thud.

You couldn’t quite believe what you’d just seen, Kitty safe and sound with her own two feet touching the ground, a wide grin stretching across her face as her eyes found hers, once again giving you another double thumbs up. You weakly returned her smile, but it was fleeting as the group started jogging in the direction she pointed in.

A pin could drop and you would hear it clatter to the earthen ground in the lingering silence, your breath audible as you stared at the last place you’d seen the students you’d taught for five years. You were aware of Logan’s presence extremely close behind you, but you didn’t have it in you to care.

“Told ya,” he murmured smugly. You couldn’t be mad at him, he had reason to be smug. He’d taught these kids incredibly well in your absence. You had him to thank for that expert display of their mutations. The back of your head rested against his chest as you relaxed, using him one would a wall to lean against.

“Yeah… you did,” you responded, laughing slightly with relief and pride. It was the sweetest sound Logan had heard you make, other than perhaps the way you whispered his name not moments ago. He wondered what could have happened had you not been interrupted. Though he quickly had to stop himself, gritting his jaw against the images his mind conjured. He absolutely couldn’t be thinking about that during class.

“So, this is why you didn’t wanna get back into teaching?” he asked, taking the first steps to follow the students, though he kept his hand on your shoulder as you fell into step beside him, his arm now basically holding you against him. You didn’t seem to move away, and he hoped you were too caught up in your relief to notice.

Though, of course, you noticed. Your entire body was alight with the feeling of his proximity, of the recent memory of what had nearly happened between you. It was fucking stupid, and insanely irresponsible and you were definitely going to beat yourself up about it at a later date, but there was something so comforting about his embrace that you didn’t feel bad about it. “Yeah… mostly. I don’t think I worried quite this much back then, but yeah. I guess…” you trailed off, not knowing how to phrase your thoughts.

Logan gave you time and stayed quiet as you gathered yourself. From Scott’s reaction yesterday morning after he’d mentioned you opened up to him, he got the impression you didn’t do this often. A warmth spread through his chest at the idea of him being the one you’re comfortable enough to talk to, despite only knowing him for two days.

“I guess, I’ve known these kids since they were younger, ya know? Most of them came here after some huge traumatic event in their lives and–” You took a steadying breath. “I don’t know, I just don’t wanna see them hurt even more than they already have been, physically or mentally.”

As if you could be any more endearing to him. Logan took a minute to let your words sink in, not only listening to you but truly hearing you. He didn’t know it was possible to feel this way for someone so quickly, and if you both weren’t in the middle of teaching a class, he’d pull you into his chest and fuse his lips to yours. Although, being in the middle of a class wasn’t enough to stop him earlier…

“Could you say something before my insides knot themselves further, i’m dying here,” you elbowed him lightly, breaking him from his reverie. He hadn’t realised he’d just been staring at you in awestruck silence, but he understood how since you’d just opened your heart a little, that lingering silence was extremely awkward for you.

“They’re stronger than you think,” was all he could offer, before the two of you finally caught up to the students, and you pulled away from him. Logan knew it was most likely for the best, however, that didn’t mean he was happy about it.

“You were saying…” you drawled, turning back to look pointedly at him over your shoulder. Logan cocked his head to the side, not entirely sure what you meant, before he heard what you were looking at. Every single one of his students had been caught in one of the various traps around the hidden facility, faceless guards and soldiers pointed guns in their direction. His stomach was full of lead, he looked at you, trying to gauge whether or not you were about to go ape shit. But you just stood, assessing the situation with a sense of professionalism he’d only seen on the rest of the X-men.

They were all bickering with each other, blaming each other for the situation they’d found themselves in. Peter and Bobby swung upside down from one of the branches above, their ankles tied together and their wrists bound. They were held at such a height that, if Peter was to coat himself in steel, the fall would most likely injure Bobby badly.

Marie and Julian were facing each other, Marie’s hand was dangerously near Julian’s face. One movement and she’d be draining his energy and life force. You could see the fear in both of their eyes. Jubilee was on the ground beneath Peter and Bobby, her hands also tied behind her back. If she were to use her mutation, the two strung from the trees would be blasted to ash. Kitty was nowhere to be seen.

What a predicament they’d found themselves in. You stepped back to Logan’s side, arms folded across your chest, eyes trained on his expression. “We could wait to see what they’ll do…” you suggested though the raise of your brow told him you had another option.

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or, we could show ‘em. What did you say earlier? Demonstrations are part of the class,” you once again tried to mimic his voice, your chin dipping as you reached the depth of your vocal chords. Logan rolled his eyes, refusing to show that he found your terrible impressions endearing.

“An’ how d’ya wanna do that?” he asked, his disobedient lips morphing into a smile as you winked back at him.

“We teach. And do try to keep up, fossil, I don’t wanna do all the work,” you grinned, and before he could even voice his irritation at you calling him a fossil again, you melted back into the shadows, completely disappearing from his view.

Logan swore lowly, slowly releasing his claws from his knuckles, keeping his footsteps steady and measured. This was, after all, supposed to be a stealth mission. And who better for stealth than a mutant who could quite literally walk through darkness? Feeling pretty damn happy with himself for his choice of simulation, Logan pressed his back against one of the trees, sliding around the trunk before he had a decent view of the situation.

He held his position for a beat, preparing himself to move forward again before there was a brief, cut-off scream from one of the masked guards. Torches and guns whipped to where the sound was last heard and found nothing but a discarded weapon and another torch flickering on the ground.

A beat passed, and this time Logan bore witness to what happened to the other guy. Passing up through the shadows on the ground, a ghostly pale hand wrapped around the ankle of another faceless guard. They didn’t have time to scream like the other before their entire body was dragged into the shadows. He didn’t even know you could do that. You could drag other people into the darkness with you? Since when? You’d failed to mention that little detail.

However as he watched you work, he noticed there was a pattern to your movements. You never went for any of the taller, stockier-looking guards, mainly picking off the smaller ones. Your latest victim fell into one of the trees, and Logan watched as every torch turned to shine against the trunk. From what he knew of your mutation, yes you could move through shadows, but you were trapped if that shadow became isolated, much like the one behind the tree he was certain you were in.

The way he raced through the forest was both a testament to Logan’s speed and his sudden, overwhelming urge to make sure you were safe, the simulation completely forgotten. Thrusting himself into the light of the torches, Logan branched a gateway shadow for you, throwing his arm out to the side and casting a dark bridge behind the tree.

Bullets fired instantly, and Logan grit his teeth as his chest and abdomen were used as fucking target practice for these faceless assholes. Though he was used to the feeling, what he wasn’t expecting, was the almost unbearable itching in his back. Were you… wait were you on him? His theory was confirmed when the rounds of gunfire ceased briefly. Logan felt a slight pull against his spine, and the itching stopped as you reformed, your back pressed against his own.

“Thanks,” you breathed, peering around his shoulder, your eyes flickering to each crimson stain on the front of his white t-shirt. “Fuck! Are you–”

“‘M fine. Fight from my shadow,” he instructed, and you nodded once, before dissolving into his pitch-black silhouette on the ground. With a crack of his neck, Logan growled lowly, before walking towards what was left of the armed force. Picking up momentum, he broke into a run, releasing a bellowing roar before tearing limb from limb.

You leapt from Logan’s shadow like a dolphin from water, using his momentum as his own, your foot collided with one of the masked faces before you dissolved back into the darkness he was casting.

Ducking and diving, slicing and stabbing, you timed every movement perfectly to his own. Logan swung in a wide horizontal arc, and if you’d been a second too slow, he would have sliced you in half. But you soared over his arm, your hands tucked in at your shoulders, striking out with your leg and into another faceless mask, watching as the satisfying crunch of a broken neck snapped their head to the side. You didn’t dive back into his shadow this time as you landed, the clearing around you plunged into darkness as the last of the guards dropped to the ground.

Breathlessly, you looked over to where Logan was grimacing slightly, the wounds against his chest closing up, various bullets and shrapnel falling to the ground from his body. His eyes met yours before looking at the bodies you’d both just lay waste to. So much for not being able to work as a team.

“Holy shit…” Bobby breathed from above.

“Language!” Both you and Logan barked in unison before you approached the captured students, a hand on your hip. “Now, can anyone tell me why that worked so smoothly?” you asked, and Logan stood back and watched you in your element. He couldn’t help but think it was a little cruel to teach whilst they were all still in various positions of capture, but who was he to question your teaching methods? He’d never worked so well as a team in his goddamn life. Even he was learning things today.

“You uh, you both knew the capabilities of the other’s mutation?” Julian piped up a little shakily, Marie’s hand still far too close to his face for anyone’s liking. You nodded, raising a brow to Logan in a silent request to free the two of them. He nodded, slicing through the rope around them with one of his claws. Julian stumbled away, and Marie instantly went to put her gloves back on.

“Absolutely. That only worked well because I knew Professor Howlett’s capabilities, and he was aware of my weaknesses. If isolated in a shadow, I’m cornered. He knew that and formulated a plan to get me out of that mess. Thanks, by the way,” you shot him a smile, and he waved you off.

“Don’t mention it,” he didn’t want to mention how he didn’t know the extent of your current abilities. He had no idea you could drag people into shadow with you. That was very much a surprise for him.

“What else?” you prompted, looking to each student individually.”

“You were aware of the other’s movements. If you weren’t, you’d be sliced into ribbons,” Bobby offered, his voice a little strained from swinging upside down. You sighed, trying to stop your smile. He wasn’t wrong…

“Unnecessarily graphic, Bobby, but yes. I took the time to study Lo– Professor Howlett’s movements from his shadow. It’s important to know how your team operates, and equally as important for them to know how you move.” You explained, before setting about getting them down safely. It took some fiddling before you found the rope that held them up. Logan took it from you, slowly lowering them to the ground.

“Anything else?” you asked, stooping to free Jubilee. You were already satisfied with their answers, not expecting them to have anything else to offer until a voice piped up from behind you.

“You trusted each other completely.”

You whirled to find Marie fiddling awkwardly with her gloves, stealing glances at Bobby. You’d been thrown for a loop. The girl was right. That plan never would have worked had you questioned Logan’s judgement at the time, and spent too long thinking about it. You’d put your faith in him, and it worked out for the best. And you found, now you were thinking about it, you’d do it again in a heartbeat. Your only problem was, did he trust you?

“Right,” Logan confirmed. Well, that answered that. “We wouldn’t’ve gotten to that point if we’d spent half ‘n hour bickering ‘bout it. I trust her implicitly,” he looked at you, eyes lingering on your own. “And she trusts me.” He finished quietly, and you smiled in affirmation, offering him a small nod of acknowledgement. The silence dragged on as you both looked at each other, once again completely unaware of your surroundings.

That was until Kitty came barrelling through the stone wall of the facility, sweat beading down the side of her head, her hand clasped on the shoulder of a little girl whose eyes blinked bright yellow, vertical pupils broadening in the sudden darkness. You guessed that was who they were supposed to rescue.

“Got her! Wh– woah…” she looked around at the carnage littering the clearing floor, her eyes clocking onto the bloodstains on Logan’s shirt and on the leg of your suit. “What’d I miss?” she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Only the sickest example of teamwork by our professors!” Jubilee exclaimed, and you had to blink a few times, unused to being referred to as a professor. But before you could correct the girl, Kitty clicked her tongue.

“Huh, interesting. Teamwork from two of the most ‘I’ll do this alone’ people I know,” she said nonchalantly, though it was obvious to you what she meant by that, and your brows furrowed into a scowl.

“And where were you? This was supposed to be a teamwork exercise, Kitty.” You set your jaw, jutting out your chin a little defensively. Kitty gestured down to the kid right as the simulation started to pixilate and the girl disappeared along with the forest.

“We were under a time limit, right? Part of teamwork is knowing when to prioritise the mission over the safety of your team. Everyone knows the stakes, everyone knows the consequences,” Kitty said pointedly. Logan narrowed his eyes slightly, noticing how this was turning into something a little more personal than a lesson. He saw your eyes flicker with an emotion he couldn’t place before your features hardened.

“That depends on the risk you’re taking, and some consequences aren’t worth it. If this had gone badly, you could have lost your entire team.” You gestured to the students behind who were all staying incredibly quiet.

To the untrained ear, it looked like Kitty was just mumbling under her breath, but Logan very clearly heard what she said. “You’d know all about taking those risks, wouldn’t you?”

You tensed, nostrils flaring slightly. Fury and shame swirled in your irises.

“Class dismissed.” You grit sternly, your shoulders more tensed than he’d ever seen them. One by one the students filed out, Kitty sending you an apologetic glance but you were too busy being utterly furious to notice or care. You stared at the ground, and Logan could almost taste your rage.

He wasn’t entirely sure how to go about this. Should he leave you to it? Follow the students and make sure they’re all alright? Should he stay silent and let you work through whatever it was you had going on in your beautiful head?

You decided for him. “That went well…”

He watched you visibly deflate, exhaustion radiating from your very bones, a hand braced on your brow bone.

Logan crossed to you, allowing his instincts to rein free. Extending his arms, he gently pulled you into his body, smiling as you sighed in what he refused to believe was comfort. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself as you buried your face in his slightly bloodied jacket.

“Quite the display of teamwork we put on, huh?” His voice rumbled from his throat and you had to bite back another sigh. You couldn’t tell if he knew you needed this, or if this was just a happy coincidence, but honestly? You didn’t fucking care. It felt good to be held by him, and after Kitty dragged up memories from the past, you needed to drown yourself in something other than your consuming sense of guilt, and Logan’s body seemed to be the next best thing.

He tried his best not to tense as your hands slid to his back, tried his fucking best not to shiver as you clung to his slightly, his arms wrapped around your waist and shoulders securely.

“Yeah… it was,” you smiled, shifting so your forehead was pressed against his chest, your breath fanning one of the many holes in his shirt. You resisted the urge to run your hands through the hair poking through the bloodstains, keeping them firmly at his back. Unfortunately, willpower alone didn’t seem to be enough, so you stepped back from his embrace, just far enough to remove the temptation from your mind.

Logan searched your tired face, one question echoing in his mind. “What did Kitty mean? When she said you’d know ‘bout takin’ risks?”

All it took was one question for you to shut down completely. Your once soft features petrified to stone, any insight he had into your mind was quickly shut through your eyes as you stepped completely out of his range. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said dismissively, raising your head in challenge. Daring him to keep asking questions. It frustrated him, and he decided he really didn’t like you lying to his face.

“That’s a lie.” He declared, his jaw clenched. This was not how to approach the subject, but he couldn’t understand why you weren’t talking to him. You’d told him the good about your life, you’d told him about your situation with your mutation, why was this suddenly too far?

“Oh, and you’d know, yeah? Though, from what I remember, you weren’t actually there. Because, and correct me if I’m wrong, I’ve only known you for two days. Just because we get on well doesn’t give you a fast pass ticket to knowing everything about my life,” you hissed, and Logan decided he’d had enough.

“Didn’t feel like we ‘just got on well’ earlier, did it princess?” He bit back, and you blinked.

Did this motherfucker seriously have the audacity to bring that up right now? “Maybe it didn’t to you, but I know my fucking priorities,”

“Yeah? Is that what Kitty meant? Sounds like you haven’t always had your priorities straight.” He knew he’d crossed a line when the stone wall of your features cracked, his words sinking deeper than he ever meant them to. He didn’t know what happened, he didn’t know your situation, but it was obvious now he’d struck a nerve. Obvious in the way your head shook slightly, your shining eyes flickering in utter, disgusted disbelief.

Any hope you had for whatever was between you and Logan shattered in an instant. You didn’t even know what to say, your mouth flapping open and closed. Taking a few steps back from him, you looked him up and down, as if searching for where that comment came from. You didn’t know he was capable of something like this, and what made it so much worse, was that he was right. You’d made a huge mistake in the past, and people had suffered because of it. People died because of it.

Logan wanted to reach for you, to pull you back into his embrace and apologise, but he found himself stuck, staring as your features morphed from heartbreaking disbelief to savage understanding. A smile cut across your lips, though your eyes still shimmered with unshed tears.

“Okay,” your harsh voice shattered the silence as you nodded along with whatever internal conclusion you’d come to. “That’s that then.” Your eyes pierced through his soul. Logan had a lot of moments in his life he regretted, but seeing the way he’d destroyed whatever was building between you two with a single, stupid fucking comment, might have taken the top spot. Perhaps narrowly overtaken by letting you walk away from him.

There was something to be said about how peaceful the dark was. Floating in nothing but an ocean of shadows, you let yourself imagine. Let yourself imagine what it would be like if you let go. If you stopped trying to develop your mutation and let it consume you. It was only yesterday you were so fucking stubborn about your possible fate. But now… it didn’t seem so bad.

You sensed a disturbance in the balance between the light and the dark, another shadow moving smoothly in the brilliant white. You knew instantly who it was, and you attempted to still your conscience.

“You can hide all you want, I know you’re here,” Xavier spoke aloud, though you knew he didn’t need to. He could have reached you even as nothing but a concept. You mentally sighed, only reforming your head, upper shoulders and arms out of the darkness, rising slightly out of the floor. You rested your chin against your folded hands.

“How can I help, Professor?” you asked, summoning as much mental strength as you could to at least try and appear okay. You’d disappeared into the garden, always finding the darkness outside to be more freeing than that of a dark room. Charles interlaced his fingers on his lap.

“I wanted to ask how your class went today. Logan spoke incredibly highly of you, it’s rare he has much to say about anyone,” he smiled knowingly.

You couldn’t help your sarcastic scoff. “Oh, I’m sure Logan found plenty to say about me,” clearly the wound was still fresh. Fresher than even you realised. Xavier tilted his head in faux confusion.

“Are you referring to the comment Kitty made?”

Your head shot up from its resting place against your hands. “How do you know about that?” It was a stupid question, Charles Xavier knew everything that happened in his school. However, you found that he only brought up certain things if he’d been verbally informed. Something about not abusing his power.

“Logan told me, before asking me what happened.”

“Still can’t stay out of other people’s businesses, can he?” you snarled, reforming the rest of your body and crossing to sit on one of the benches.

“He cares for you.” The statement shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but you still blinked as Charles came to sit opposite you.

“He’s got a real funny way of showing it.” You grumbled.

“How much do you know about him?”

“That’s the fucking problem!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “I don’t know a damn thing! He’s asked me everything about my life, from when I was a waitress at some shitty little diner to how I learned how to cook so well. I told him all about growing up with my brother, my parents d–” You couldn’t finish that sentence, your throat closing up.

“Does he know that? About your parents?”

“He knew they weren’t around, and it was just me and my brother for a while. But what does that matter? He won’t fucking talk to me! Not in the same way… Why are you talking to me about this?” you suddenly realised how strange the situation was, and in your moment of clarity, you decided that for once in your fucking life, this was nobody else’s business. You came out here to be away from people, not to be bothered twenty minutes into your escape.

“Am I a bother?”

Fuck, you fucking forgot he could read your mind like a damn book. You sighed defeatedly, already regretting being so combative. “Yes and no. Look, Kitty said what she said. It wasn’t like I completely forgot what happened three years ago I just… I’d put a lot of effort into moving forward. I understand the point she was making, it was just–”

“Unnecessary,” Charles finished with a nod of understanding. It was nice, in a way, to be understood without having to voice everything. Even if it was because he could read every single thought in your head at any given time.

“And then Logan said what he said and it was just… yeah. I don’t know…” you shrugged, hugging your knees.

Charles leaned forward to place a hand atop your own, causing you to lift your head from the home you’d made within your arms. “This is a school of second chances. Of third chances. I do hope you don’t believe that only applies to the students,” you winced as he slipped into his ‘Professor’ voice, gritting your teeth, suddenly feeling like a scolded schoolgirl again.

“I know it isn’t. I of all people know that. There’s just so much going on right now, with getting back into teaching and developing my mutation so I don’t just fade into nothingness and whatever the fuck is going on with Logan I just, I have a lot on my mind.” you admitted, though it was a little stunted. Admitting you weren’t exactly in a good headspace wasn’t the easiest for you if your recent outbursts of unadulterated rage were anything to go by.

Fuck, this meant you definitely had to talk things out with him. Maybe even confront whatever the fuck was happening between you, or whatever the fuck could have happened had you both not been in the middle of teaching a class. You didn’t know if you had the emotional capacity for that right now. As much as you wanted to.

Charles squeezed your hand gently. “I didn’t teach you to run from trouble, did I? And I certainly didn’t teach you to hide. What happened three years ago was an accident. It’s time you stopped blaming yourself.” You looked to the sky, trying your fucking hardest not to let the tears in your eyes fall, blinking rapidly and simply willing your eyes to dry. You knew he was right. You’d harboured a sense of guilt so strong it made teaching terrifying for you. Being so afraid something like that would happen again, you’d spent the rest of that year trying to discourage your students from doing the same things as you did on that mission.

No wonder Kitty was so irritated at you. You were such a fucking hypocrite.

With a shaky breath, you stood from the bench, and Charles moved back a little. You wouldn’t find Logan immediately, you had a lot of your own thoughts to figure out, but you would find him at some point. Besides, he was the one who managed to reassure you in the danger room. He was the one who showed you what those kids were capable of. You shouldn’t probably thank him for that.

You seemed to spend your life recently either wanting to thank the man or wanting to yell at him. But either way, he was constantly on your mind.

With a wordless nod to the Professor, a silent show of gratitude, you crossed back through the gardens and through the double doors, knowing already what you wanted to do. You’d found it yesterday whilst making meatballs, and your mind briefly wondered who had taken such time to hide it away.

Crouching to the cans cupboard, you gently moved aside that same tower of soup, feeling your breathing stutter slightly as you saw her again. Your heart cracked at her faded smile, her white teeth glowing against the deep bronze of her complexion. You remembered the delicate gold necklace she wore, even more so the locket resting against the hollow of her throat.

You’d thrown yours out the day you lost her. Unable to look at the reminder of what you’d had. Of what you’d destroyed. Your thumb skirted across the angles of her features as if you could feel her beneath your palm once again. You’d tried so hard to forget her, to push her from your mind, to gaslight yourself into believing what you felt for her was nothing but a desire for companionship. A temporary fling.

But you knew now. You had something to compare those feelings to, and you knew now. Because the way you felt around Logan, the way you felt just thinking about him, it was exactly the fucking same.

Holding the mug to your chest, your shoulders shuddered in silent sobs. What you wouldn’t do to be in her arms again. To hear her heartbeat one last time. To laugh with her again. To stay up all night, a tangle of limbs and passion, giggling quietly into the dark. But you’d disrespected her memory by trying to forget her altogether.

A soft call of your name by a voice you knew all too well by now brought you back from your grief, and you turned your head to see him standing by the door. The concern on his face despite the savage argument earlier speared your heart, and you wiped a stray tear from your face with the heel of your palm.

Logan didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t know why you’d fallen out so badly earlier today, he didn’t know how it got so out of control so quickly. And fuck did it break him to see you cry. Every instinct was screaming at him, begging him to go to you, to encase you in his arms and hold you until the rest of the world faded away. But when you didn’t respond to him, when you just stared absently after he said your name, he admitted to himself the likelihood of that ever happening was slim to none.

“I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone…” he muttered with a nod of acknowledgement, turning to leave back the way he came.

You stood quickly, vision swimming slightly with the velocity of the movement. “Logan wait,” you watched as he stopped, his shoulders tensed. He didn’t turn around. He didn’t dare to. The fact you’d even spoken to him was miracle enough, he didn’t want to shatter reality by turning to see your face dismissive, asking him to wait just so you could tell him how much of a fucking asshole he was. At least, that’s what he deserved to happen. “Sit…”

Now he turned, eyes rising from the floor to meet your broken ones. He wasn’t about to push his luck and ask why, so he did what you told him and took a seat at the table, watching you like a hawk as you dragged a chair to sit next to him, your proximity electric.

Silently, you set the mug on the table in front of you both, rotating it slightly so he could see the faded photograph. His brows raised as he looked between the photo and you, working to put the pieces together.

“Who was she?” he asked hesitantly, baring in the mind the last two times he’d asked you about anything a little darker you’d shut down completely. He managed to fight the urge to take your hand.

“Her name was Jade. She’s the reason we found the school, and the reason I became a teacher,” you paused, steeling your nerves before you continued. “And the reason I stopped.” You were unable to tear your eyes away from the picture, retracing the lines and curvature of her face.

“I thought you stopped teaching because Charles sent you to search for more young mutants?” Logan queried, and you finally glanced at him.

“That’s why I left, yeah. He probably thought it would be good for me to get away, but I stopped teaching because I made a stupid fucking mistake on a mission and it–” You paused again, not knowing if you could continue, the lump growing in your throat making it borderline impossible. You hadn’t spoken about this in the last two years, using your travels to distract yourself.

To hell with ignoring his instincts. To hell with keeping himself from you. To hell with being cautious. Logan gently took your hand in his own, briefly relishing in how soft your palm was. He wasn’t going to push you, he’d seen how well that worked last time. But he wanted you to know he was here. He was listening, if you wanted to continue.

The silence dragged on as you stared at your smaller fingers interlaced with his, your nails digging ever so slightly into the back of his hand between his knuckles, and you sincerely hoped it wasn’t uncomfortable for him.

“It got her killed.” Finally, it was out in the open. Finally, though it was nothing more than a shaky whisper, you’d said it. A tear slipped down your cheek, hanging from the line of your jaw. “It was supposed to be a survey mission. Nothing more. Draw up the layout of the land and report back, where we could actually formulate a plan. But I–” You sandwiched your lips between your teeth, hoping the physical pain would distract you from the mental. “I fucked up. I acted out of passion and rage. I saw what they were doing. I saw what they were fucking doing. They were kids, Logan. They were just kids. And they were being treated like prisoners of war. The torture, the experiments, the agony. I don’t remember what happened, but I snapped.

“The next thing I remember was being back on the jet with my hands bound. I thought I’d been caught somehow, but they were all safe. All those kids were safe. But Jade was nowhere to be seen. I… nobody told me exactly what happened. Nobody needed to. Whatever I… did, she got caught up in it. Jade–” You refused to blink, refused to let yourself see anything but her smiling visage, one captured moment of pure joy before you’d decimated it. “They said she didn’t make it out. But I could feel it. I could feel the fear in the room. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know what happened, but it terrified them. My team and the kids. It fucking terrified them. And Jade was gone.” you finished, inhaling a stuttered breath, tears now falling freely from your lashes.

Logan didn’t care that you gripped his hand so tightly he felt a shift in his damn bones. He didn’t give a shit that he could feel your nails almost break the skin of his knuckles, not that the sensation was unfamiliar to him. What he did care about, was the fact that he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t reassure you that it was your fault because it was, and he didn’t want to lie to you. You’d lost control, and it resulted in the death of your… friend? Lover? He still didn’t know the relationship between the two of you, but judging from the way your eyes sparkled in the photo, the way your smiled curled in pure adoration, he could figure it out.

“It was an accident. You didn’t mean to,” was all he could offer. It was shit. He knew it was shit, and you laughed tearily, clearly knowing that.

“Yeah, tricky one to respond to, huh? But that’s why I stopped teaching before i went away. I just… couldn’t do it anymore. And I tried so hard to forget about her because that was easier. It was easier than remembering, as fucked up as that is,” you swiped away your tears with your unoccupied hand, and it took every fibre of Logan’s self-control not to take your face in his hands and do it for you. “So that’s what Kitty meant. It was shitty and unnecessary but I think I needed to hear it. I’m surprised she’s still friends with me, to be honest with you. Jade was like a big sister to her.” you sniffled, offering him a tight, awkward smile.

Fuck, did you know how gorgeous you were? Even now? It saddened him to think you didn’t.

“How d’ya know each other, you and Jade? You meet here?” he asked, hoping to inspire some kind of happy memory to associate with your past, rather than bottomless grief.

“Nah, I’d known Jade since we were kids. She was our neighbour growing up. There were eight of us in that little group. Stuck together since we were all mutants. Called ourselves Nine Lives Minus One. Or Nilmo for short. Some stupid inside joke I don’t even remember now, but she was the only one to come with me after I fell out with my brother.” He might as well know the rest of the story since you’d already come this far.

“What happened?”

“Eh, some stupid fucking argument, also don’t remember it. I just remember packing up and leaving one day, and Jade came with me. We weren’t… together, at that point. But I think we both knew we liked each other,” you explained lowly, absently staring at your still joined hands. “Jean and Scott picked us up on the side of the highway and brought us here. I begged them to go find the rest, but by the time they did, they’d all packed up and moved on. That’s what they told me anyway,”

“You didn’t go with ‘em?”

You shook your head. “Charles reassured us both the team would do what they could. Besides, we were caught up in actually learning about our mutations.” You didn’t mind this. Talking about her as if she were just someone you used to know. Someone who was a part of your past. Someone you didn’t fucking kill. Hurt still echoed through your bones like a cry in an empty room, but it was bearable.

You let the quiet blanket the two of you, taking a moment to bask in his presence. To appreciate everything he’d done, and was still doing, for you. He still had questions, he must do, you knew you would if the tables had been turned. You do have questions for him. About his past, his mutation, and his life before the school. He hadn’t been here very long in the grand scheme of things, and you wanted to know what he was doing beforehand. He’d said it wasn’t a happy story, but you were mutants.

None of you had a happy story.

“I, uh…” you began, tasting your words before you said them to make sure they were the right tone. God knows you’ve fucked that up too many times recently. “Look, I’m not expecting you to divulge your life story. Shit, after what I said earlier, I wasn’t expecting this,” you took a breath, turning your head to examine his features. “But at any point, you feel like you want to, or you feel comfortable enough to, I’m here. And I’m sorry. For what I said. What Kitty did threw me off and I lashed out.” You sighed, only capable of hoping he’d forgive you. You couldn’t imagine Logan was the kind of guy to give many second chances, but didn’t Charles just say that’s what this school was for? “And for what it’s worth, you’re a really good teacher.”

Logan stared, quietly stunned. Most people here had been kind to him since he arrived with Marie, and it was still a lot to get used to, but you were on a different level. The promise in your eyes, the hope in your tone, he didn’t think there would be a time when he couldn’t forgive you. Fuck, he’d known you were in here from the start. Simply ‘coming across’ you in the kitchen was just an excuse. He could smell you from the other side of the mansion, and before he knew what was happening, he was on his feet walking through that door.

He ached to be around you. He yearned to touch you. To hold you. To have you. In any way you would let him. Acquaintance, friend, something more. He’d take every piece you gave him and fucking cherish it. You weren’t just some woman he’d met two days ago. He didn’t think there was a moment where you were just some woman he’d met an hour ago.

From the moment he saw you, something in his heart snapped into place. And it had been a long time since he’d felt whole. Wordlessly, Logan stood from his seat, almost finding your confusion amusing considering what he was planning on doing.

It was a strange feeling, your soul sinking. You’d thought that this could have repaired whatever damage you’d done to your friendship, or whatever the fuck this was. But when he silently stood, you internally accepted that this was probably the most you were gonna get out of him.

That was until he crossed to the radio on the counter and flipped through the stations, stopping when you heard a song you knew well. Your brows furrowed. What was he doing? He turned back to you, extending a hand, and your eyes flickered between his open palm and his face. Logan just looked at you expectantly, wiggling his fingers and nodding to his invitation.

You huffed a laugh of fond disbelief, before standing from your chair and taking his hand, allowing yourself to be brought into his embrace. Your arms hooked around his neck, wrists crossing at the short hairs at his nape. His hands settling on your waist as the static crackle of lyrics hummed from the radio.

‘Pass me that lovely little gun My dear my darling one’

“What’re you doing?” you asked, your soft smile untamable as you both started swaying slowly to the beat.

“Pretty sure they call it danicin’, bub,” he responded, eyes alight with an emotion you couldn’t place, but one you could get used to.

‘The cleaners are coming, one by one You don’t even wanna let them start’

A small laugh escaped your lips, fanning the lower part of his face. “I got that, but why?” You searched his face for an answer, from the slight crease in his brow to the bridge of his nose to the cupid’s bow of his lip. There your gaze lingered.

‘They’re knocking now upon your door They measure the room, they know the score’

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

‘They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor Of your broken little hearts’

Logan’s hand left your waist to cup the side of your face, his thumb gently smoothing your cheekbone. “Truthfully?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though you immediately returned to his features. “Truthfully.”

‘Forgive us now for what we’ve done It started out as a bit of fun Here, take these keys before you run away The keys to the gulag’

“‘cause I’m running out of excuses to be close to you,” he admitted quietly. And though it was nothing but a soft murmur of admission, you felt the wounded parts of your heart begin to stitch back together at his words. Their meaning.

‘Here comes Frank and poor old Jim They’re gathering round with all my friends We’re older now, and the light is dim And you are only just beginning’

“You don’t need excuses, Lo’,” you hoped he could read the meaning of what you said. Hoped he could feel, just as much as he did, that you wanted to be near him. Close to him. You inhaled that smoky, pinewood scent you craved so much, torn between nestling your head beneath his chin and your need to drink in and memorise every peak, plain and valley of his face.

‘O, children, We have the answers to all your fears It’s short, it’s simple, it’s crystal clear It’s roundabout and it’s somewhere here Lost amongst our winnings’

Logan chose for you, guiding your head to rest against the hollow of his throat, his chin settling atop your hair. His arms circled your waist, pulling you tighter and holding you close against him. Peace radiated from your slowly swaying form, and knowing that the feeling came from him, your newfound sense of tranquillity, and warmth spread throughout his chest.

‘The cleaners have done their job on you They’re hip to it, man, they’re in the groove They’ve hosed you down, you’re good as new And they’re lining up to inspect you’

“I spoke to Charles.” he started, and you shivered slightly, the rumble of his voice resonating through every fibre of your being.

“He mentioned…” you smiled knowingly, thinking back to your conversation with the Professor.

“I’m gonna oversee your mutation development,” it was a gamble, telling you now so soon after the argument from before, but he’d rather you know now than be thrown for a loop tomorrow. But his gamble paid off as you raised your head from his chest, your eyes brimming with unspoken awe.

‘O children Poor old Jim’s white as a ghost He’d found the answer that we lost We’re weeping now, weeping because There ain’t nothing we can do to protect you’

“Thought I said you didn’t need excuses.” you teased lightly, and he all but shoved your head back into the home you’d made in his neck, basking in the staggered breaths against his skin from your laughter.

“Yeah, well, that was ‘fore I knew. ‘N after you dressed me down earlier–”

“‘M still sorry about that.”

“I didn’t think you’d still wanna be… this.” He didn’t want to say friends. Because he didn’t think you were friends. There was something so much more between you, friends didn’t seem the right word. And you seemed to know it too, tightening your hold around his neck.

‘O, children Lift up your voice, lift up your voice Children Rejoice, rejoice’

“It was a bold move, I’ll give you that.”

Logan could sense someone in the doorway, though whoever it may have been seemed to have the good sense to leave swiftly.

‘Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the Kingdom We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun And the train ain’t even left the station’

Logan lifted your head from his neck, calloused palm cupping the side of your jaw. “Darlin’, I’m nothin' if not bold.”

Your heart stopped as he leaned down, ever so softly grazing his lips against yours, testing the waters, a silent request. And you responded in kind, eyes fluttering closed and craning your neck to erase whatever space was left between you.

‘Hey, little train, wait for me I once was blind, but now I see Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination?’

Logan was wrong. Oh, he was so wrong. You tasted so much better than he imagined. That cherry chapstick wasn’t even on his mind as you kissed him along with the beat of the music, with each sway of your body. He barely managed to silence his groan, feeling the unbearable tension between the two of you slip away, making room for another kind of tension completely.

‘Hey little train, wait for me Was held in chains but now I’m free I’m hanging in there, don’t you see In this process of elimination’

You drew back just far enough to exhale a breathless “Logan…” before the loss of contact became too much and he brought you in again, as if he could only breathe if he was connected to you. Your tongue swiped across his lips, another silent request, and his eyes rolled behind closed lids. Your nimble tongue weaved through his parted mouth. You tasted of summer storms and mountain forests and it wasn’t fucking fair.

‘Hey little train, we’re jumping on The train that goes to the Kingdom We are happy, Ma, we’re having fun Beyond my wildest expectations…’

The music started to fade, though as long as you could both hear the beat, neither of you stopped moving until the room trickled into to silence. You drew back once again, eyes still closed as you savoured what was left of him on your tongue. You were right. He did taste faintly of whiskey. Whiskey, tobacco and sheer, endless adoration.

“You okay?” he asked, still a little breathless, still reeling slightly. Your eyes slid open and you smiled. You smiled in a way that stopped his heart and had him wondering if he was dead. Or at the very least, dying.

“Now I am. Wanted to do that back in the danger room,” you confessed to his cocked brow of amusement.

“Oh yeah? Thought you said you felt nothin’.” he jabbed with no trace of malice or bitterness. He’d known then it was a lie, but it was nice to finally hear you say it. More than nice.

Your face fell forward to hide your sheepish embarrassment in his chest, Logan’s hand moving to cup the back of your head, fingers grazing through your hair. “Ugh, can we never bring that up again?” your plea was muffled slightly, but he heard you loud and clear.

“Only if you agree not to keep talkin’ ‘bout how I didn’t think you existed.” He bargained, much to your gape of injustice.

“Absolutely no deal, that’s half my jokes right there! The other half is just you being old enough to b–”

“And that’s enough of that.” Logan cut you off, pulling you back up to press his lips to yours once again in a fleeting, silencing kiss. You chuckled against his mouth and he vowed there and then he would do anything to protect that sound. To protect you.

“Fucking finally,” with the speed you withdrew from Logan’s lips, he was slightly surprised you didn’t break your neck as you whipped around to face the doorway, finding Marie and Kitty standing with their arms folded with exactly the same expression on their faces. He’d heard them approach, but couldn’t find the willpower to move away from you in time. You were fucking intoxicating.

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘finally’, it’s not like we’ve been pining over each other for years,” you sent a pointed look to Marie, and watched as she rolled her eyes. She knew exactly what you were talking about, but was clearly not in the mood to be wrong. “And this has been pretty fucking fast in my opinion,” you paused, glancing back to Logan. “Not that I mind, by the way.”

He shrugged, resisting the urge to grin. “Good to know.” A smile tugged at your lips as you removed your arms from around his neck, turning fully to face the two girls. Your eyes landed on Kitty, schooling your expression to one of subdued rage. You still hadn’t forgiven her for what she’d said, and judging by the way her face fell from smug knowing to sheepish regret, she knew too.

Logan sensed the shift in the air, looking between you and Kitty. “I’ll be in the lounge.” He muttered to you, planting a kiss on the side of your head and giving your arm a quick squeeze before gesturing for Marie to follow him. He knew you needed this time alone with your friend, and he also knew he was about to be subjected to Marie’s excited squealing and begs for details.

But he’d endure it if it meant you could sort things out with Kitty.

The room fell into silence as you stared at one another, both of you waiting for the other to say something first. Kitty’s eyes left your face, falling to the mug left on the table. Regret swirled around your gut as the light caught the brimming tears on her lashes.

“I didn’t forget about her…” you said in way of explanation, running a tired hand down the side of your face. “No. That’s a lie. I did. I had to. It–”

“I know.” she interrupted you, holding her arm in vulnerability. “I know… I don’t know why I said what I said earlier. It was cruel. I know you have your priorities sorted, and I know what happened was a mistake,” your heart cracked as tears slipped down her face. “I miss her so much.” Whatever resolve she had not to cry shattered there and then as her words ended in a sob. You couldn’t remain angry at her, fuck you didn’t have the right to be angry at her in the first place.

Crossing the kitchen in two strides, you pulled her into your arms, wrapping her protectively in your embrace as she cried, her hands weakly clutching your back. “I know. I do too. I miss her every damn day, and I’m so sorry I took her from us. From you.” You smoothed her hair, blinking your tears away rapidly. You couldn’t cry again, that would just be excessive…

Right?

You let her cry on your shoulder, simply allowing her to release whatever she’d had building since the day Jade died. You let her sob against your t-shirt, staining the fabric several shades darker until her cries quietened to nothing but hiccups.

“I hated you for what happened,” you let her words land, let them sink in. “I hated you so fucking much. I think… I think a part of me still does. But I saw what it did to you. I saw what happened in the days after. You were different. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always been a little chaotic,” she giggled slightly, and you nodded in confirmation. Yeah, you had been chaotic since the day you were born. “But you became manic. Frantic. I knew you were terrified in every class you had to teach after that, I could see it. I realised you were hurting just as much as I was. I’m so sorry I hated you. I’m so sorry a part of me still does, I don’t know how to stop it.”

You loosened your grip, placing your hands on her shoulders to look her in the eye. “You had every right to. You still do. I– I don’t know what happened that day. I still don’t. Nobody would tell me and at this point, I’m too scared to ask. And if, somehow, I could go back, I would change everything.” you admitted, though her slight cheeky smile wasn’t the response you were expecting.

“Even if it meant you and Logan wouldn’t be making out in the kitchen?” she asked, the mischievous glint in her eye exaggerated by the shining of her recently shed tears. You stuck your tongue in your cheek.

“Nah, that probably would have happened anyway. I don’t think things between Jade and I would have lasted…” you admitted. You loved her. You loved her so much, but the differences between the two of you were too great.

“I also think I have the right to say the biggest told you-so in history.” She continued, and you lightly punched her arm. She was right. Of course, she was right. She knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll buy you a ‘World’s greatest mind reader’ mug. I’m kinda glad you were right…” you smiled as you thought of him, the moments you’d already shared. Kitty laughed, using the sleeve of her jumper to wipe at the damp streaks down her face.

“Oh girl you are down bad. I hope he knows you had sex in the bin shed of that bar you used to work at. What was it called?” she teased, and you clamped your hand over her mouth.

“No, he doesn’t know that Kitty Big-Mouth,” you whispered loudly, laughing through your words. “The bar was called Shots Shack, and he will never know that.” It wasn’t your finest moment. The bar had some extremely relaxed drinking policies for the staff, and to say you were a little tipsy was an understatement. Some guy had just been in the right place at the right time, flirting relentlessly with you. It had been more of a ‘fuck it why not’ moment but you still weren’t exactly proud of it.

Kitty started talking behind your palm, and you had half a mind to leave it there, but your morbid curiosity got the best of you. “Huh?”

“I said he should probably know how nasty you are. Who knows what escapades you got up to on your travels?” She grinned and you wanted to clamp your hand back over her mouth to stop her from spilling all your secrets.

Your heart settled at her contented sigh, the weight lifting from her shoulders almost visibly. “Thank you for this. Despite everything, and despite a part of me still hating you, you know I love you to pieces, right?” you could see she was genuinely worried, her brows creasing ever so slightly.

“Yeah. I know.” You smiled broadly, and she mirrored your expression.

“Go on, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the lounge. Besides, I have to somehow convince Marie to actually talk to Bobby if she wants him to actually know she exists.” she rolled her eyes, and you snorted.

“Can’t imagine that’ll be an easy conversation. And Logan’s not my boyfriend, we still only met three days ago.”

“And yet you were dancing and holding each other like you’ve been married for decades. Yeah, totally not your boyfriend.” she wiggled her brows and you pursed your lips to stop yourself from smiling. Throwing your arm around her shoulders, the two of you fell into step easily, instinctively, leaving the kitchen and heading into the lounge.

The TV had been turned down low, the glow changing every few moments as whatever show Logan and Marie were watching progressed. You don’t think you’d ever seen him so relaxed, his arm stretched across the back of the sofa, legs crossed at the ankle, his feet propped up on the coffee table.

Before you’d even said anything, he turned to the door, smiling instantly as he looked between you and Kitty. Or rather, as soon as he looked at you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m here to return your girlfriend in exchange for my friend,” Kitty smirked as she ducked out from under your arm. You huffed in faux irritation, though paused when Logan didn’t correct her. He hadn’t looked away from you, his smile hadn’t faded or shifted in any way. “C’mon Marie, we need to debrief.”

The girl nodded as she rose from the sofa, casting a glance at Logan and grinning wildly as she noticed the same as the rest of the room. Linking their arms together, the to girls left, chattering away and you could distinctly hear Kitty gloating about how she knew from the start.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You grinned, using his own words against him.

Logan blinked back to reality. In all honesty, he was completely caught up in the memory of the two of you in the kitchen, arms encased around each other, basking in the intimacy. It was only when you spoke did he remember you were right in front of him again. He raised his arm, a silent request for you to join him, and one you read instantly, hopping over the back of the sofa and onto the plush cushions.

“How’d it go?” he asked, draping his arm around your shoulders to hold you tightly against his side as if he’d been doing it forever. It felt so natural, so routine, it was hard to remember the two of you hadn’t been doing this forever. He felt at peace again the moment you settled, next to him.

“Yeah, well. We talked everything out, cried, ya know, the usual.” You breathed a peaceful sigh. After the events of the day, you genuinely didn’t think it would end this well. Sorting everything out with Kitty, you and Logan acknowledging whatever the fuck was between you, and now settling for what looked to be a cosy evening? You couldn’t be happier.

“You’re starin’, bub.” You shook your head slightly, breaking yourself from your reverie. Had you really been staring?

“You’re nice to stare at.” Logan snorted at your shit-eating grin, pushing your face to look elsewhere. You laughed beneath his palm, instantly bouncing back to his side profile. Fuck he was gorgeous. Utterly and undeniably beautiful. But you only spared yourself a fleeting glance, scooting down the sofa slightly to settle into the crook of his arm.

His hand mindlessly travelled to your waist, drawing small circles with his thumb. Though you were both looking at the TV, you had a feeling he was watching it just as much as you were, which was absolutely none. Sure your eyes followed the movements of the characters, watching as they engaged in some cockamamy scheme to kidnap some children from an orphanage, but you weren’t actually watching. Not when you felt so comfortable your lids started to grow heavy, your breathing slowing a fraction.

“So. Shots Shack. Wanna tell me ‘bout that?”

Nevermind. Sleep couldn’t be further from your mind as you shot bolt upright from his side, your mouth wide in shock, staring wildly at his smug face.

“Wh– How did y– Did Kitty tell you? Motherfucker! Oh, she is so fucking dead the next time I see her!” you seethed, looking out the door as if she were waiting behind it and giggling to herself.

“Kitty didn’t tell me.” You could fucking hear how smug he was, and you were torn between smacking him in the chest or smothering his lips with your own.

“Wait, then how did you–?” Logan cut you off, pointing at his ear.

“I’ve got real good hearing, didn’t ya know?” You narrowed his eyes at his faux condescending tone, now leaning much more toward smacking him in the chest. “Part of the mutation, darlin’. Got good sense of smell too, and eyesight. Just senses in general. So I heard all about your sexcapades in that bin shed. Makes a man wonder wh–” It was your turn to cut him off, smacking your palm over his mouth.

“It was one time and I was a drunk eighteen–year–old. I don’t make a habit of taking people behind the bins to fuck ‘em, so we can never talk about this again, yeah? Yeah.” you answered for him, not even giving him time to nod or shake his head from beneath your hand, his eyes alight with sheer and pure amusement. Honestly, it was almost worth living through the mortification just to see that alone.

You kept your palm solidly in place until Logan rolled his eyes and held his hands up in surrender. Keeping it against him for another few seconds just for safety, you finally removed it, squinting at him with no small degree of suspicion.

“I’m done,” was all he said, though you didn’t need super senses to smell the mischief on him. This man might genuinely be the death of you and only now were you realising it too late. You slowly settled back against him, your head resting against his chest as the volume on the TV was raised slightly, Logan setting the remote back down on the arm of the sofa. “Although, I am curious–”

“Nope. Goodnight Logan.” you went to stand, only making it a few inches on the sofa before strong, sinewy arms wrapped around your middle, tugging you back against a wall of muscle so hard you were almost winded. Christ, it was like hitting cobblestones.

“No ya don’t, sorry sweetheart, you don’t get outta this that easy,” you attempted to wriggle free, finding yourself woefully basked in light, the only shadows to be found pitched in the corners of the room or behind bookcases. With every struggle, Logan’s grip tightened until you had to stop, unable to breathe both from laughter and from a simple lack of oxygen.

“Okay, okay I concede!” You panted, sagging against his chest as his arms loosened to the point where you could shuffle down further, lying across his lap, your face a picture of unadulterated joy as you caught your breath, one hand braced against your stomach.

“You gonna talk now?” he asked with a raised brow, his smile never faltering. You closed your eyes, grimacing slightly as you tried to remember. Was his name Jordan? Or was it Josh? Joe…?

“Look, in all honesty, I don’t remember much of the night. We had a super relaxed drinking behind-the-bar policy, and it wasn’t uncommon for all of us to be tipsy bordering wasted most shifts. This guy just happened to be in the right place at the right time,” you explained as flatly and as matter-of-fact as you could without wanting to crawl into a ball and die. “I mean, he’d put in the work, was flirting with me all night and I’d just thrown back two strawberry daiquiris and a cherry picker at the end of my shift so what’s a girl to do?”

“Fuck someone in the bin shed, obviously.”

“Right? Worked in that shithole for three years of my life. It was totally a front for a drug cartel. There’s no way that place is open now, it was so fucking dodgy.” you sighed fondly, remembering those long nights dragging into the early hours of the morning, belting some shitty seventies song at the top of your lungs after the doors closed, mopping like your life depended on it to the beat of Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd. You swore you could still nail that solo on Guitar Hero.

“Sounds like average hospitality to me,” Logan shrugged, and you gaped at him in mock offence.

“They might have all been super scary drug dealers, but they were super scary drugged dealers that had my back on more than one occasion. Sorta treated us all like one huge family. It was… nice.” you were only realising now how much you missed your old life. How much you missed living with your brother and hanging out with the rest of Nine Lives Minus One, or Nilmo for short. You wished you hadn’t deleted his number. Wished that somehow you could reach out to him, or any of your old friends. None of them had texted you back, so you assumed they were all still mad at you for an argument you didn’t even fucking remember.

Clearly, they all did.

What was that argument about anyway…?

“You look exhausted.” Logan’s brows pinched slightly in concern. He’d noticed it earlier, the area beneath your eyes had darkened slightly, and your skin looked a little paler than it did a few days ago when you’d walked through those doors. And the way you smiled tiredly at him now confirmed everything he was thinking.

“I’m a shadow-walker, Lo’. I’m not supposed to look like sunshine.” You leaned into his touch as his fingers tucked a strand of your hair from your face, and he listened to the way you almost fucking purred when he ran his fingers through the roots of your hair, repeating the movement a few times. This is what he couldn’t wait for. To learn each and every one of your little quirks like this. The way your lids fluttered slightly even though your eyes were cold. The way your jaw clenched and unclenched as if you had to manually remind it to relax every few moments. The way your brow furrowed ever so slightly when he stopped and smoothed again when he continued.

Everything you did fascinated him. Captivated him. Even the things you didn’t know you were doing. Logan brushed your hair from around your neck, a gesture that was supposed to be calming and soothing.

At least, it was for you.

What he saw stopped his heart, his hand faltering. A scar decorated your pulse point, no more than half an inch wide and barely a millimetre thick, but it was deep enough to leave its mark on you. His thumb traced the mark delicately, and you suddenly jerked away, eyes opening slowly to peer up at him.

“You have a scar here…” he murmured, his hand returning to your hair. He wasn’t expecting you to have jumped like that, to almost flinch as if he’d stabbed you himself.

“That I do. Perceptive guy,” you smiled, closing your eyes again, seemingly unbothered by the situation. It put him at ease, at least. You didn’t seem to care.

“Where’s it from?” he asked.

“Used to get into a lot of fights as a kid. I have a few of ‘em in the most random places, which now doesn’t make any sense since my body breaks down and reforms every time I shadow-walk but eh, I’m not too bothered by them,” you did the equivalent of the world’s smallest shrug, and Logan dropped the topic. Until they understood more about your mutation, there wasn’t much he could ask that you could have a solid answer to.

Turning his attention back to whatever trashy TV show had been in the background, the two of you sat like this until the credits rolled and a new episode started anew, continuing on the trashy story from the trashy previous episode. It wasn’t until he noticed your breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm and you were no longer twitching did he swich it off. You really were exhausted, and Logan was a little terrified to move you in case you woke up. That and, if he was being truthful, a large part of him didn’t want to move. But he knew you’d wake up sore in the morning if you slept like this, so he steeled himself to gently manoeuvre you off his lap, supporting your upper body as he stood.

“C’mon sweetheart, time for bed,” Logan whispered, stooping to lift you into his arms as smoothly as he could. You frowned in your sleep, tensing your jaw, but made no further movement as he steadied himself. Stepping around the sofa, Logan sincerely hoped everyone else had gone to bed. This would be incredibly tricky to explain in a way that wasn’t either extremely concerning or extremely obvious.

He hadn’t managed to check his watch before he picked you up, so all he could do was hope and pray he didn’t come across anyone. And whatever gods had been watching had also heard loud and clear, the journey from the living room up to your bedroom on the third floor being as quiet as he’d ever heard the mansion.

Shouldering the door open, Logan propped it open with his foot as he shuffled inside, instinctively cradling the back of your head as he passed through the doorframe. He took a breath, pleasantly surprised as all he could smell was you. The last time he was in this room, you’d barely been back an hour, not nearly long enough to leave your scent anywhere. But now, now being in your room was a whole different experience. He was surrounded by you. Consumed by you. It made him want to build up the pillows on your bed and never leave, huddle you against him for all eternity. Hold you safe and never let you go.

However, since he’d only just kissed you today, he’d manage to hold out on the protective behaviour for now. And he sincerely hoped that would last since he was certain your training was going to be anything but safe for you. At least he would be there, by your side. He would be there to drag you back if anything went wrong. But nothing would go wrong. He wouldn’t let it.

Setting you down on one side of your bed, Logan pulled back the covers on the other side. Fuck it was getting so much harder to resist climbing in alongside you, but he grit his teeth against his instincts. One step at a time he promised himself.

You weren’t in any kind of sleepwear, but he didn’t think you were the kind of girl who cared too much what she slept in, as long as it was comfy and not jeans. He smiled as he imagined you saying just that, though knowing your foul mouth, you’d probably slip a ‘fucking’ or ‘shit’ in there somewhere. And you’d changed into a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved T-shirt which seemed comfy enough.

Logan tucked you in, staying for so much longer than he needed to, before finally admitting to himself that adjusting your bedside clock for the fourth wasn’t necessary and he was just stalling. He didn’t want to leave. Shit, every fibre of his being was screaming against leaving. But he had to. Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss against your brow before touching his forehead against your own, simply feeling you.

“Sleep well, firefly.” The nickname came to him in the moment, and he couldn’t help but think just how well it suited you. A blinking light in the darkness. You were a beacon of hope for him, and he hoped that one day, you could see yourself in the same light he saw you.

Maybe one day.

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #james logan howlett #logan howlett #x men logan #x men wolverine #x men x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan smut #wolverine smut #the wolverine x reader #essa's works

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just-aake · 1 month ago

Text

A Feline Connection: Halloween Special

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha is getting everything ready for the Halloween event while also helping you find the right costume for her favorite feline.

A/N: This is a side story set at some time between Part 2 and 3 of the A Feline Connection series.

Warnings: fluff

Words: 4450

Natasha carefully sets down two oversized bowls brimming with candy onto one of the many rows of tables, adjusting them slightly before turning her attention to arranging an array of spooky decorations across the counter.

Around her, eerie decorations fill the park as volunteers bustle about, setting the stage for the Halloween event—a collaboration between the Avengers and the city.

Team members are spread out everywhere she looks, each helping prepare for the different activities.

Natasha has taken charge of the trick-or-treat stations, aiming to make the experience fun and safe for the kids, double-checking candy supplies, and ensuring no child goes home without treats.

As she directs volunteers to rearrange some tables to keep the pathways clear, her phone vibrates in her pocket.

She pulls it out, her eyes softening at the picture you’ve sent.

Widow is pouting into the camera, clearly displeased at her current state. The little black cat is decked out in a miniature Iron Man suit, complete with the iconic mask perched on her head.

“Cute,” Natasha mutters, smirking at the picture.

Moments later, your message follows.

“What do you think about her costume for tonight?”

“Cute, but it doesn’t look like it’s her favorite,” Natasha replies, her fingers tapping a quick response.

A second picture arrives—a close-up of Widow now scratching at the Iron Man mask, a clear statement of her displeasure.

“You might be right. Guess we’ll try out some more.”

Natasha chuckles and quickly forwards the picture to the Avengers group chat. She’s about to tuck her phone away when a curious thought suddenly appears in her mind.

“Are you wearing a costume for tonight?”

Your playful response arrives seconds later.

“Maybe…wouldn’t you like to know, Miss Black Widow.”

Natasha can practically hear your teasing tone. But before she can respond, she’s interrupted by the sound of two small sets of footsteps barreling toward her.

She looks up just as Lila and Cooper Barton crash into her, giggling as they wrap their arms around her in a tight hug.

Natasha pretends to stumble, letting out an exaggerated groan as if their embrace had taken her down.

“Auntie Nat!” Lila shouts, bouncing back with a wide grin, while Cooper nods energetically.

“We’re here to help!” he chimes in, both kids practically vibrating with excitement.

Natasha eyes them with a hint of suspicion, already guessing what might be fueling their energy.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Clint says, approaching with a stroller carrying Nathaniel, the youngest Barton.

Natasha bends down to greet the baby, who lights up and giggles as she tickles his tummy.

“Nat, don’t rile him up!” Clint groans playfully. “I already have these two bouncing off the walls on sugar.”

Laura steps up beside him, crossing her arms with a sigh.

“I told you not to give them candy this early.”

Natasha laughs, straightening up.

“Well, in that case, this might not be the best area for them to ‘help’ with.”

She gestures to the tables overflowing with candy, smirking.

Lila and Cooper shake their heads fervently.

“We can help, Auntie Nat!” Lila insists.

“Yeah! We won’t eat any more candy, promise!” Cooper echoes, though Natasha gives them both a skeptical look, fully aware of how flimsy that promise is.

“Don’t you want to check out the other Avengers’ setups?” she suggests, raising an eyebrow.

The kids exchange a quick look before nodding, excitement building once again.

Natasha turns to Clint.

“Think you can handle the rest here?”

Clint waves a hand dismissively.

“Go, have fun. I’ve got this covered.”

With that, the kids race off toward the next area, Natasha following close behind with Laura walking beside her.

“So,” Laura begins with a knowing smile, “I hear you’re seeing someone.”

Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Not you too,” she groans, but Laura’s amused expression softens.

“Hey, I’m happy for you. You deserve someone good, Nat,” Laura says genuinely.

“Thanks, but we’re just friends,” Natasha replies, though she can’t help the small smile that forms at the thought of you.

Laura studies her face and chuckles softly.

“And you like her,” she observes with a smirk.

Unable to stop the warm sensation in her chest at the thought of you, Natasha admits softly under her breath.

“Maybe a little.”

As they continue walking through the park, Laura suddenly stops, pointing toward a commotion in the distance.

“Is that Stark…destroying the black cat balloons?”

In the sky above, Tony’s Iron Man suit zooms around, blasting black cat balloons as Rhodey flies after him in the War Machine suit, shouting, “Tony! Stop it! We’re going to have to fly back and get replacements!”

Natasha rolls her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. With a small, amused smile, she guides Laura and the kids in a different direction, as if it’s just another typical day with the Avengers.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As Natasha and Laura guide the kids through the park, they pass by a small stage where Thor suddenly emerges from behind the curtains, lugging a massive armchair with ease. He drops it in the center of the stage with a loud thud, grinning with satisfaction.

“Need any help?” Natasha asks, raising an eyebrow.

Thor waves her off proudly.

“No, thank you, Nat, I have everything set up!”

He gives the arm of the chair an approving pat.

“Tonight, I shall sit upon this throne and regale the children with the most terrifying stories of Asgard, striking fear into their hearts just as this human holiday requires.”

“I like scary stories!” Lila exclaims excitedly, her eyes widening.

Thor nods approvingly.

“Good! These tales will make you so frightened that you may wish never to close your eyes again!”

“Awesome,” Lila whispers in awe, her enthusiasm undeterred.

Laura sighs, not entirely thrilled about her daughter’s taste in terrifying tales.

Meanwhile, Cooper, already unnerved, subtly tucks himself behind Natasha, tightly clutching the edge of her jacket.

Natasha can only stare at Thor in response, momentarily speechless at his well-intentioned but misguided plan, then shakes her head vehemently.

“No, that’s…that’s not what we’re aiming for tonight,” she says, glancing around. “Where’s Steve? We need to fix this.”

Thor frowns, confused by the sudden concern.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Natasha pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“Laura, can you explain to him while I talk to Steve?”

Laura nods in understanding while holding back Lila, who is already begging Thor to share a story.

Cooper clings close to Natasha as she heads off to find Steve.

On her way, Natasha feels her phone vibrate in her pocket.

Pulling it out, she sees you’ve sent a video this time.

The thumbnail catches her eye immediately—the familiar colors of red, white, and blue stand out on the cat.

Huffing in amusement, Natasha taps the screen to play it.

The video opens with Widow’s wary meow as she glances up at you, her eyes expressing hesitance. She’s dressed in a miniature Captain America costume, complete with a small cowl and a plastic replica of the shield strapped to her back.

Though, the shield seems slightly too big on her tiny body.

Your voice comes through the video, soothing and coaxing.

“Come on, Widow, it’s okay.”

Widow shoots a disgruntled glare at the camera, hesitating before attempting to step forward. But her movements are stiff and awkward, the shield throwing off her balance. She wobbles for a moment before losing her footing and toppling onto her side.

The video shakes as your laughter bubbles up in the background, and Natasha can’t help but grin at the sound.

Widow stays lying there, visibly defeated, meowing her irritation. The video cuts off just as you reach to help her.

A text quickly follows: “I don’t think she likes that one either :(”

Natasha chuckles, typing back with a suggestion.

“Maybe try something that lets her move around more easily?”

You respond with a thumbs-up emoji, and Natasha contemplates for a moment before sending another text.

“Do I get a hint about what you're wearing?”

After a brief pause, your response pops up.

“Mine’s extremely comfortable to move in ;)”

Natasha shakes her head, chuckling at your flirtatious reply.

“Oh, I recognize that look,” a familiar voice calls out nearby. Steve walks over, a knowing grin on his face. “What did your friend say this time?”

Natasha rolls her eyes, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

“Trust me, Rogers, if I told you, you’d never be able to look me in the eyes again. Still want to know?”

Steve raises his hands in surrender, laughing.

“Forget I asked.”

Her playful expression fades into mild frustration as she crosses her arms, remembering her original purpose for finding him.

“Did you get a chance to preview any of Thor’s stories before you assigned him the stage for storytelling?”

Steve furrows his brow, lifting another pumpkin out of a nearby cart.

“No…why? Are they not good? Thor mentioned that he had a lot of them.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s got plenty,” Natasha says, struggling to suppress a laugh. “It’s just that Asgardian scary doesn’t quite translate to our kind of spooky. Someone might want to…filter his options.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he finally catches on.

“Right, I’ll talk to him after I finish up here.”

Just then, Cooper tugs on Steve’s sleeve.

“Can I help?”

“Of course, buddy,” Steve smiles, handing him a small pumpkin. “Just take it over to Hulk—he’s setting them up over there.”

Cooper nods and huffs slightly as he carries the pumpkin toward Hulk, who’s busy stacking a few larger ones in designated spots.

Steve turns back to Natasha.

“Could you check in with Wanda and Vision at the haunted trails? I sent Sam over but haven’t heard back yet.”

“On it,” Natasha agrees, giving him a quick nod before heading in their direction.

As she makes her way there, her phone buzzes with another message from you.

This time, it’s a picture of Widow, now wearing a long Scarlet Witch jacket. She’s curled up, fast asleep, the oversized coat draped over her like a blanket.

The text reads: “This one might be too comfortable.”

Natasha laughs softly, shaking her head.

“That’s probably the best option at this point. But if not, you’d better hurry—the event’s starting soon.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there,” you respond reassuringly.

Distracted in her texting with you, Natasha doesn’t realize that she’s already at the entrance of the haunted trails until she suddenly notices the stark change in her surroundings.

On the side she came from, the trees were filled with green leaves, casting warm shadows in the setting sun.

Meanwhile, from where she’s standing, the trees along the haunted trail are bare and twisted, their leafless branches reaching out like claws, and an eerie red glow seeps through the shadows, casting a haunting atmosphere over the path.

Natasha stops for a moment, admiring Wanda’s impressive attention to detail in crafting the spooky illusion.

The eerie quiet breaks with a sudden rustling, making Natasha tense instinctively, her senses heightened as she scans the surrounding trees.

Bats flutter out from the branches above, and Natasha narrows her eyes, feeling like this illusion might be a little too realistic.

Just as she’s about to call for Wanda, something suddenly swoops out of the shadows, rushing toward her.

Reacting instantly, Natasha dodges and rolls to the ground, her Widow’s Bite gauntlets flaring up as she raises them, ready to strike.

But the blue glow fades as she pauses, realizing it’s only a makeshift ghost—a sheet suspended on a nearly invisible line, guided by the Redwing drone hovering above it.

Sam’s laughter fills the air as he lands beside her.

“You should’ve seen your face, Nat,” he chuckles, barely containing his amusement.

Natasha stands up, brushing off her clothes with a deadpan expression.

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t scared.”

Sam gives her a playful smirk.

“Come on, admit it. I got you good.”

She crosses her arms, eyebrows raised.

“Did you hear me scream?”

“Not everyone screams when they’re scared. Some just—ah!”

Two hands suddenly reach up from the ground, grabbing onto their ankles.

Sam lets out a startled yell, instinctively activating his wings to lift off the ground.

Natasha, though startled, keeps her composure, only stepping back slightly to pull herself from the hand's grip.

Above, Sam hovers in the air, wide-eyed, as Vision phases fully out of the ground.

“Vision?!” Sam exclaims, still hovering a few feet off the ground.

Vision regards them with a calm nod, looking somewhat puzzled.

“My apologies. Wanda suggested that this would be amusing. Was my approach incorrect?”

Wanda emerges from behind a nearby tree, laughing as she pats Vision on the shoulder.

“No, Vis, you did great.”

“Wrong,” Sam protests. “That was totally wrong!”

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms as she looks up at him.

“It’s no different than what you tried to pull. So are you going to come down, or are you too scared?”

Feigning indifference, Sam pretends to check his wrist communicator.

“Looks like Cap’s calling me. I’ll catch you all later.”

Natasha huffs, amused, and shakes her head as he disappears before turning back to Wanda and Vision.

“Great work on the setup over here,” she says, genuinely impressed.

Wanda beams at the compliment.

“Thank you,” she says before a mischievous glint appears in her eyes. “You know, this trail would be even more fun with someone special to walk through it with.”

Natasha narrows her eyes slightly in suspicion.

“And what are you trying to say?”

“I believe Wanda means that shared experiences under high-pressure situations like this can often lead to stronger bonds, especially if one wishes to develop a closer connection with such a person,” Vision says with his usual thoughtful tone.

“Yeah, what he said,” Wanda agrees with a smirk.

Natasha just rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think she scares easily,” Natasha says, thinking about you and suppressing a small smile.

Wanda’s face lights up.

“So you are thinking about asking her?”

Natasha chooses not to respond, giving Wanda a warning look before giving them both a quick wave.

“I’m going to check on the other preparations.”

As she walks through the Halloween-themed carnival booths, dusk has fully settled over the park, casting everything in a warm glow.

Strings of lights and glowing balloons hang high above, illuminating each station and path.

Her phone buzzes again, and she glances down to see another message from you.

“On our way. Too late for a photo shoot though. Guess you have to wait to see us both in person.”

Natasha smirks, amused at your teasing. Before she can type a response, a figure suddenly swings down from the large spider web decoration spanning the booths.

“Hi, hey, Miss Romanoff!” Spider-Man greets, waving with enthusiasm. “Is it okay if I take off early?”

Natasha tilts her head curiously at the young Avenger.

“Going trick-or-treating?”

Spider-Man freezes.

“What? No! I’m…” he clears his throat, deepening his voice in an attempt to sound more mature. “I’m not a kid.”

She raises an eyebrow, smirking in amusement.

Spider-Man sighs, giving in as he fidgets nervously.

“Okay, there’s this girl, MJ. I invited her, and it’s, um, it’s just going to be us instead of the whole group. So I just wanted it to be perfect.”

Natasha chuckles softly at his rambling.

“It’s fine, Peter. You don’t need to explain everything. You can go. We’re nearly done here anyway.”

“Awesome, thank you!” he exclaims, turning to swing away, but he pauses, looking back at her. “Oh, and, uh…Mr. Stark said to ask if you’re bringing your—”

Natasha raises a hand, cutting him off.

“If you keep calling her my ‘crush,’ I’ll assign you to extra security training for the next month.”

Spider-Man immediately covers his mouth, nodding before shooting a web to swing away.

“Sorry! I’m gonna go get ready, then!”

Natasha watches him disappear, a smirk lingering on her face as she checks her phone again. She types a quick reply to your message.

“I’ll be at the trick-or-treat stations if you have time to drop by.”

When your response comes through with a heart emoji, Natasha feels a warmth in her chest that she doesn’t even try to hide, a genuine smile spreading across her face as she pockets her phone and heads toward the trick-or-treat stations, ready to greet you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The park is alive with laughter and excitement as attendees in colorful costumes move from booth to booth, soaking up the Halloween festivities.

Natasha finds herself genuinely smiling and enjoying herself as yet another child in a miniature Black Widow costume steps up to her table.

With an enthusiastic "Trick or treat!" they hold out their basket.

Natasha hands over a generous scoop of candy, and the kid thanks her with a beaming smile before mimicking her signature move, extending their tiny arm as if launching a Widow Bite.

Natasha grins and joins in, making a mock "pew" sound, then bumps fists with the little fan.

The child squeals in delight, racing back to their parents to show off the interaction, and Natasha watches them go with a warm smile.

Her attention shifts as she notices the next person approaching her table. She turns, ready to greet them, but her words falter as her eyes meet yours.

Standing before her, you’re dressed in a sleek black velvet ensemble that hugs your figure perfectly. A delicate choker with a small gold charm glimmers at your neck, catching the glow of the park’s lights. Long, satin gloves reach up to your elbows, and a pair of elegant cat ears sit atop your head.

The subtle smokiness around your eyes and a sharp, alluring cat-eye flick draw her attention to your gaze, while a delicate black nose and faint whiskers complete the look with just the right touch of playfulness.

Caught off guard, Natasha’s breath catches slightly as her eyes take in every detail. Finally, she composes herself enough for a smile to break through as she remarks, “Nice costume. Did Widow put you up to it?”

You chuckle, and the sound sends a warmth through her.

“After what I put her through today, I figured it was only fair.”

Just then, as if on cue, Widow makes an entrance, leaping gracefully onto the table from the shadows.

Natasha’s smirk widens as she notices the cat’s costume.

Widow prowls across the table, dressed in a tiny but impressively tailored Black Widow suit. The sleek material hugs her, complete with tiny red accents and a miniature tactical belt with the iconic red hourglass emblem.

Her back paws are fitted with faux combat boots, giving her a serious “spy” aura, but it’s her front legs that steal the show: delicate little cuffs designed to resemble Natasha’s Widow Bite gauntlets, emitting a soft blue glow with each step.

The tiny LED lights pulse in sync with her paw steps, illuminating Widow’s fur and adding an extra edge to her strut, looking every bit as fierce as her human counterpart.

The cat pauses in front of Natasha, lifting one paw in a poised gesture and looking at Natasha expectantly.

Natasha laughs softly, echoing her earlier gesture with the small explosion sound.

Widow meows in approval before nudging her hand, purring contentedly as Natasha gives her an affectionate scratch.

“She really likes you,” you say gently, drawing Natasha’s attention back to you.

Natasha looks up, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Well, I am pretty amazing,” she teases, earning a light eye roll from you.

You both share a smile, letting the sounds of the crowd fade around you as you hold each other’s gaze.

“Kitty!” Lila’s excited voice breaks the moment as she runs up to Natasha’s side, her eyes fixed on Widow with delight.

Widow, clearly unamused by the child’s excited, grabby hands, meows a questioning protest, glancing at you and Natasha for guidance.

“Lila, remember to ask before you pet,” Laura gently reminds her, catching up. She gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that! I’m Laura, by the way—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Raising an eyebrow, you give Natasha an amused look.

“Have you now?”

Natasha’s quick to shake her head in denial.

“That’s not true,” she insists, but you only raise your eyebrows, your smile teasing.

“I don’t think that response is any better.”

Natasha feels a rare flustered moment but quickly regains her composure, crossing her arms.

“It’s not…I just didn’t mean it like that.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a smirk, and Natasha rolls her eyes in mock annoyance.

Meanwhile, Lila sidles closer, her eyes wide as she looks up at you.

“Can I pet your cat?”

You smile and nod, calling Widow over with gentle strokes before guiding Lila’s hand onto her fur. The little girl giggles with delight as she pets Widow, who purrs softly, enjoying the attention.

Natasha watches, smiling warmly at the scene, but when she glances up, Laura is giving her a pointed look.

With a subtle thumbs-up and a nod toward you, Laura’s approval is clear.

Natasha furrows her brows in a silent warning, which only prompts Laura to smirk mischievously.

Before Natasha can fully comprehend her friend’s intentions, Laura turns to you with a friendly suggestion.

“Have you checked out the haunted trails yet?”

You shake your head, glancing curiously toward the spooky path lined with twisted, bare trees in the distance.

“Not yet. I haven’t had a chance to.”

“Perfect! Natasha hasn’t either, and she’s been hoping to find someone to go with her,” Laura says with a sly smile.

Natasha’s head snaps to Laura, caught off guard.

“What? No, I never—” she begins, but Lila interjects.

“It’s true! I offered to go with Auntie Nat, but she said she’d still be too scared with just the two of us.”

Natasha stifles a groan, quickly covering Lila’s mouth with her hand and guiding her away from you.

“Alright, who taught you to lie like that?”

You laugh lightly, raising your brows at Natasha, who’s now thoroughly exasperated. Widow hops into your arms, settling comfortably as she observes the interaction.

“Well, maybe with two Black Widows, it won’t be as scary,” you suggest, smiling as Widow snuggles against you.

Without missing a beat, Laura nudges Natasha out from behind the table.

“Great idea! Go on, Nat. I can handle things here.”

Natasha glances back at her friend, her narrowed eyes silently communicating the words she doesn’t say, but Laura only grins, waving her off.

Resigned, Natasha sighs, glancing back at you.

“Alright then. Shall we?” she says, gesturing toward the haunted trails.

You smile, adjusting Widow in your arms.

“Lead the way.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha was right: fear seemed to be the last thing on your mind as the two of you strolled through the haunted trail.

Your hands rest casually behind your back, your eyes sweeping over the creepy details Wanda had woven into the path.

Shadows dance in the dim lighting, and eerie props loom from hidden corners, but you only seem intrigued, your calm composure contrasting the atmosphere.

Widow, however, was another story.

After a particularly loud, sudden ghostly screech from a hidden speaker, followed by the whoosh of a flying ghost, she yelps and darts back to the two of you, beelining for Natasha.

In a flash, she scrambles up Natasha’s side until Natasha steadies her in her arms.

Tucking herself tightly against Natasha’s chest, Widow let out a small, tremulous meow, seeking comfort from the ordeal.

With a gentle smile, Natasha rubs her hand along the cat’s back, soothing her.

You tilt your head, feigning mild offense.

“Should I be insulted that she ran to you instead of me?”

“Maybe I’m just more cuddly,” Natasha teases, shooting you a smirk.

You chuckle, letting the joke hang in the air before a softer look crosses your face.

“Thank you for inviting us. I didn’t expect to enjoy this as much as I am.”

You reach out, lightly resting a hand on her shoulder while leaning closer to give Widow a few reassuring pets.

Natasha finds herself stunned at the warmth of your touch and how close you were to her, watching how your expression softens as you look at Widow.

When you glance up, meeting her eyes, a silence settles between you, almost charged, as if the ghostly ambiance had taken a back seat to the quiet, familiar energy building between you.

But then, your eyes flick just past her, widening in surprise.

You pull back abruptly, stumbling slightly as your hand slips from her shoulder.

Natasha’s instincts kick in, and she turns quickly to see what had spooked you, catching only a flash of something metallic disappearing into the shadows.

Widow stiffens in her arms, her fur fluffing out as she lets out a low, wary growl toward the direction of the shadow.

Concerned, Natasha turns back to you.

“You okay?” she asks, her gaze searching yours.

You give her a quick nod and a small, reassuring smile.

“Yeah. Guess I got scared after all,” you say with a little laugh, clearly brushing off the moment. “Let’s get out of here.”

Widow gives a soft meow in agreement, clearly done with the haunted trail.

As the three of you reach the trail’s end, you call to Widow, who hops back into your arms.

Natasha slips her hands into her jacket pockets, glancing back toward the trail’s dark path with a hint of curiosity.

The strange, unknown thing in the shadow and the way Widow had reacted—left her with a faint sense of unease.

But then your voice pulls her focus back to you.

“Thanks again. We had fun,” you say, offering her a small, genuine smile. “But you probably need to return to your post with the trick-or-treaters.”

Natasha hesitates, caught between a responsible response and a lingering desire to keep talking to you.

“I…I had fun, too,” she replies, her voice softer.

“We’re probably heading out for the night,” you add, shifting Widow into a comfortable spot in your arms.

“Oh.” Natasha tries to mask her disappointment with a casual smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to check out any of the other booths?”

But instead of answering, you give her a playful smile, your eyes gleaming with a touch of mystery.

“Happy Halloween, Miss Black Widow.”

And with that teasing smirk, you turn, disappearing into the crowd.

Natasha lingers for a moment, watching you go, a hint of a smile still on her face before heading back to her station.

Not noticing that somewhere in the shadows behind her, a faint glint of gold reappears before vanishing just as quickly.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Happy Halloween to everyone! Just wanted to add some fluff into the series for the holiday and before the main story continues because turns out I was wrong…it seems that this series will not be going in the light-hearted direction of small misadventures like originally planned 😬. Essentially, we will now have some sort of plot (with the new hinted character) so be sure to read the warnings in the next chapter before deciding if you want to continue. thanks again for reading!

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