#winx oneshots
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Wizards of the Cat Circle
Tagging @coredetenebris cause cat Duman inspired the idea
In terms of specific cats, Duman’s a black cat, Ogron’s a white cat, Gantlos is a main coon and Anagan’s a bobtailed tabby
#i had way too much fun with this idea#i could make a oneshot of that lol#would you guys be interested?#fanart#art#digital art#winx#winx club#winx season 4#wizards of the black circle#winx ogron#winx gantlos#winx duman#winx anagan#cats#cute#doodle
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K, hear me out
Palladium's hearing is really sensitive due to the magnitude of his ears and clearly, because he is an elf, so every loud noise like a crowd shouting, a pot falling to the ground, blah blah, can leave him stunned for a few seconds
DuFour is a good friend of Palladium, that's what I notice k? they are the typical inseparable duo where the two are so equal and so different at the same time, so, like a good friend, she organizes a birthday party for Palladium, But guess what, as she guide him into the room where the party is taking place, shouts of "Happy Birthday" cause the elf to cover his ears as he bends slightly in an attempt to protect himself
The screams stopped and Palladium notices that it is now safe, He stops covering himself and everything continues as if nothing had happened, but the others noticed that small detail
After that, the next party is different, Palladium enters the room, having his hands ready to cover his ears, but when he enters, he hears nothing but calm voices saying "Happy birthday, professor", they did not shout, they spoke in a normal and calm tone, leaving Palladium motionless for a few seconds while his eyes became slightly watery, he let out a somewhat nervous laugh and thanked while laughing, then they continued the party, from that on it is always like that, there are no shouts nor noises that could hurt him because they love that teacher so much that they would hate to make him feel bad in any way (Come on, he's like a father figure)
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hey guys I'm sorry I haven't posted in a long time but I have been super busy with exams and life in general. But I promise to try and update more often when I have time.
Love you all!
XOXO, charlotte
#batman#eric coulter#batfam x batmom#batfam x reader#dauntless#batmom#batmom imagine#batmom imagines#batmom!reader#divergent#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#king ben x reader#tim bradford x reader#eric divergent#eric coulter fanfiction#eric coulter imagine#eric coulter imagines#eric coulter oneshots#eric coulter x reader#monster high#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#chat noir#chat noir x reader#ever after high#winx club x reader#total drama#disney
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Fate: The Winx Saga Recommendations
Smut - *
Riven
Little Tease*
I’ve Got It Bad (Part 2)
Electolite
Innocent Or Not*
Bad Boys Bring Heaven To You
Hoodie
When Riven Gets Bored
Be Nice
Worth The Wait*
Birthday Girl
Scared To Death
Riven x Musa
One Good Turn Deserves Another*
I Think It’s Strange You Never Knew*
Threesoms
Turn Me On* (Riven x Sky x Bloom)
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Can you do a manipulative Valtor x reader, where he catches them in an ancient witch/ warlock library researching spells. After spying on them he realizes the want to learn both witch and fairy magic rather than committing to one. They are friends with the winx and usually hangs out with Flora. He realizes that the reader and him share something, a hunger for knowledge.
Warnings: manipulating, threats, language,
You had been always feeling a pull to both fairies and witches. You crave the knowledge of both. You were at breakfast when Flora pulled you out of your thoughts and smiled at you.
"You okay there? You seem like you were zoned out quite a bit." Flora chuckled. 'Faragonda is having a talk with all the students today for some reason." You nodded. You looked at your food. You trusted Flora but didn't want to be judged.
"Oh, I wonder why," you said. You finished your breakfast before heading to the library you found before Faragonda called everyone. You ran your fingers over the books. You didn't know what one to start out with.
Valtor was watching each Winx through his magic ball. He came across you. You were always interesting. Something about you. You did not seem like the others. You picked out a book that had some spells that witches practiced. Now he was more interested in you. You were reading and trying them as he was spying on you.
You looked around noticing the feeling of being watched. You couldn't see him watching you.
"Let's see where this goes..." Valtor muttered to himself. He stopped watching you study the spells when you headed out. You placed some books in your bag keeping them hidden. Valtor grinned to himself. He was already planning something but it would take more spying.
You met up with Winx and waited for the news Faragonda was gonna mention. Faragonda looked nervous. You hoped it was nothing bad but you just knew it had to be.
"Students, may I have your attention please," Faragonda said clearly and sternly. Everyone stopped talking and looked at her paying attention. "I have gained some news that Valtor once the most powerful wizard has escaped where he was being held. No one is leaving campus. There will be a curfew." She said. You were confused. Who was that? You and the other Winx looked at each other. You were all dismissed after.
You were on the floor reading a normal book and Flora sat on Stella's bed braiding your hair. Stella was walking around holding up her outfits deciding what to wear tomorrow. Bloom and Aisha were on the floor on their stomachs. They were on the carpet. Musa was at the desk making lyrics.
"I wonder how Valtor is," Bloom said concerned. "he must have done something bad." She added.
"Clearly, I mean he escaped the Omega prison." Aisha sighed. "That was being locked near my kingdom."
"Why would he want here?" Flora asked.
"I overheard Faragonda before talking about all the artifacts we have here. Possibly he might go after them." You shrugged. You looked up from your book.
"As long as he leaves my family alone. Although maybe that was him at my princess ball." Stella huffed. Everyone soon went to bed in their rooms. You roomed with Aisha. Once Aisha was asleep you took your bag and sneaked into that library again.
You hid in the corner of the library and continued to read. This was pulling to you. You started to learn some spells over the next few weeks. You haven't said anything as you wanted it to be a secret. One night you were in the library when you noticed someone in the library. He walked over to you.
"Now isn't this interesting... a fairy learning witch magic." He chuckled. You looked at him confused and on guard.
"Who are you?" You asked ready to transform anytime. He smirked.
"Doesn't matter right now. I see you are enjoying the book I gifted you. If you let me help you I can give you more powerful books." He offered. Although it wasn't really an offer. You narrowed your eyes at him.
"Are you a creep?" You asked defensively. You stood up and throw the book at him. "I don't want your stupid book." You huffed. Valtor didn't flinch.
"No." He replied plainly. "I can't believe someone so interested in other magics would just leave an offer like this... I would have even trained you." He said. "But I guess you are going to be fine without a mentor to help you with the really powerful spells." He sighed. He walked away.
It had been a week later and you haven't seen that man. Flora noticed something was up with you but didn't say anything. You had started to notice new books on your bookshelf. Papers with writing on them appear in your room. You hated that you were drawn to them and read them. You slowly gained more power.
The one night you said good night to your friends. Aisha was at her kingdom for the time being with her parents. You were about to go to bed when you saw him. You backed away frightened. He shook his head.
"Get out of here." You said. He didn't look like he was leaving. Not without you at least. Valtor went over to you and grabbed your chin.
"You are stronger little fairy..." He muttered. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him. You tried to get out of his hold.
"Let me g-" You were cut off by him shutting you up with a spell. He shook his head.
"I am taking you away here. You are going to have a mentor." Valtor said. He muttered a spell that made you pass out. He picked you up in his arms and walked into the portal and placed you on the couch. He waited for you to wake up again.
When you came to it you looked around confused. Valtor was in a chair across from you and was reading a book. You sat up and were scared. He looked up from his book and smiled. "You're awake. I was getting worried." He said. He stood up and leaned down to the height on the couch.
"Why am I here..." You said. He smiled at you.
"I am your mentor now for the magic of the witches. I am your perfect mentor because I know all the knowledge and I can give it to you.."
"Who are you....." You muttered.
"Valtor, my dear and I know who you are." You had wide eyes staring at him.
"You-you"
"Yes. I escaped. Thanks to a few minions but now it's time for you to get attention. You want that, don't you? To freely use both magics." You nodded. He grinned. "Great. Now let's get started."
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can u do the getting the other to dance with them one for musa and riven
The Solarian ballroom was huge. Huge and ornate. Musa didn’t think she’d ever set foot in a room so grand. Then again, the most grandiose room she’d seen in her entire life was the Alfea ballroom and, while it was nice, it wasn’t exactly what one would call opulent. Alfea’s ballroom, while very pretty, was very plain. Solaria’s ballroom, on the other hand, was all gold and mirrors and draping. It was beautiful, and large and long, making Alfea’s ballroom feel like a broom closet compared to it.
The party itself was quite the affair too. The guests were dressed to impress and, if the guest of honour hadn’t been Stella, they very well may have outdone the princess. The food was probably the best Musa had ever tasted and the drinks were prepared with such spectacular flair that they were their own show. Entertainment hid in every corner; there was a sketch artist, a sun dancer, living topiary, aerial silks and many others Musa was sure she hadn’t come across yet.
Musa’s favourite was the band. Predictable, simple and classic, but they were truly something else. They played in perfect harmony with one another and the crowd, always seeming to know which song would bring the most people to the dance floor. The floor hadn’t been empty for a single song since the party had started. Upbeat songs brought out the hordes of dancing guests, and the slow ones all the lovers.
All except hers.
Riven, Timmy and Helia had had engine troubles, but they ended up making it just in time for Stella to make her grand entrance. The whole situation that had followed was... awkward to say the least, but Stella was determined to enjoy her ball and not let her father’s news ruin her evening. Musa had thought that – after they’d confirmed that Stella wasn’t going to throw herself out of the top level of the aviary – she and Riven would spend the night dancing to every slow song like they had at the end of year dance, but they’d barely even interacted.
Not for lack of trying either, she’d broken off from dancing with Aisha (and sometimes the other girls) to go see him, but he and Timmy were so deep into their conversation that he barely noticed she’d come around. Or if he did, he gave no visible sign of it.
“Girl, just go ask him to dance” Aisha sighed as Musa stared over at the spot where Riven and Timmy were standing. Musa looked back at the Androsi princess, trying to pretend she hadn’t been caught being incredibly obviously distracted.
“Don’t even look at me like that” Aisha rolled her eyes. “I know very well that you’re staring at Riven and trying to figure out how to get him to notice you. That boy is emotionally constipated and stupid. He doesn’t know you want him to dance with you. So ask”
“But...”
“But fucking what? You like him, he likes you. You’re - I think – in a relationship with him.”
“He’s not paid the littlest bit of attention to me...”
“I find that very hard to believe. That boy is always staring at you.”
“No he’s not” Musa replied, taking Aisha’s hands as the fast song faded into a slow one. Guests coupled up and took to the floor, spinning circles around the two girls.
“Yeah, he is” Aisha insisted, looking behind the musical fairy to where their coupled friends had taken to the floor and waving the two closest ones over. “Flora, Helia, is Riven always staring at Musa?”
“Oh yeah, he can’t ever seem to take his eyes off you” The nature fairy replied almost immediately. “It’s very sweet.”
“He talks about you a lot too” Helia added before twirling Flora away from them. Musa could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. It quickly dissolved into confidence as she turned to look at Riven and caught him looking at her. He turned away, focusing his attention on Timmy and pretending he hadn’t been looking at her, but even from a dozen or so feet away she could see him turning red with embarrassment.
Musa flipped off Aisha and her see, I told you expression before waltzing over to the two boys. She took Riven’s hand, forcing his attention away from Timmy. “Dance with me.”
“Dance?” he asked uncertainly. His free hand came up to scratch the nape of his neck, stretching the suit jacket over his chest. He turned back towards Timmy, insisting that he couldn’t just drop the conversation, but the redheaded specialist was nowhere to be seen.
“Timmy seems fine with it” Musa chuckled, pulling Riven – her boyfriend, she reminded herself – towards the dance floor. She took his other hand in hers and slid herself closer to him, forcing him to sway along with her. He moved awkwardly with her and didn’t say much, but he was dancing with her.
“You look really nice” he whispered as the music faded out and the band started their next song. Mercifully, it was also a slow one.
Musa blushed furiously. Her instinct was to stare at the ground and hope he didn’t see her turning red, but she forced herself to look up at him. He smiled shyly and she returned it with a big, genuine smile. He liked her, she reminded herself; there was no need to be embarrassed by liking his attention. “You do too.”
“I feel like an idiot in this suit.”
“Well, that may be, but you look...” Musa stood back, never letting go of his hands, to look him over. She wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the suit (she was 99% sure he didn’t own it before this party), but it fit him like it was tailor-made for him. “Very nice.”
The slow song gave way to a faster��one and they hadn’t done much but smile at each other like a bunch of idiots as they swayed. Riven seemed to freeze up at the frenzied beat so she allowed him to step off the dance floor. Musa thought that Aisha would be her dance partner for the rest of the night and tried to content herself with having had that one dance, but when the next slow song came on (and every other slow song after that), Riven was right there asking her to dance with him.
#dont let these oneshots convince you anything is going to come out faster#im just really bored at work and i need to seem like im doing something#writing allows me to be typing and that makes it seem like im working#winx club#winx#winx musa#winx riven#winx aisha#winx layla#set in season 3#prompt#oneshot#fanfiction
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❂ Winx Club Masterlist ❂
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴
General
Alfea College
How the Alfea College students (+ Red Fountain, Cloudtower) Give Hugs (Fluff)
Red Fountain
The Specialists as Your Boyfriend (Fluff)
How the Alfea College students (+ Red Fountain, Cloudtower) Give Hugs (Fluff)
Cloud-Tower
How the Alfea College students (+ Red Fountain, Cloudtower) Give Hugs (Fluff)
Characters
Bloom
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Stella
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Flora
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Musa
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Tecna
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Sky
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Brandon
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Riven
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Timmy
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Helia
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Icy
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Darcy
¢σмιηg ѕσση
Stormy
¢σмιηg ѕσση
#winx club#winx club alfea college#winx club red fountain#winx club cloudtower#winx club bloom#winx club stella#winx club flora#winx club musa#winx club tecna#winx club sky#winx club brandon#winx club riven#winx club timmy#winx club helia#winx club icy#winx club darcy#winx club stormy#winx club specialists#winx club trix#winx club masterlist#winx club oneshots#winx club short stories#winx club headcanons#winx club imagines#masterlist#oneshots#short stories#headcanons#imagines#asks are open
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My AU & Headcanon
In this post, I'm going to explain many details about how I see the Winx universe. This post will be updated regularly.
A few words of introduction. 🍄
Hello there, I'm Sam. I'm 25 and I live in Paris, France. I have a degree in English literature, and most precisely as a researcher in American literature. So, yes, I love reading and writing. 🧡
Kimii used to be my user name when I was twelve. I used to have a french news account on Winx club. (does it still exist? Nope... the website shut down in 2023). So when I created my account here, I just kept it. It's a sort of identity I embraced my whole teenage years, so it made sense to keep it. It's my Winx Identity.
For the language, I write in English. I may be fluent, but I can leave some mistakes here and there. If you notice any big ones, please feel free to send me a DM. Thank you very much. It can be hard sometimes to notice them.
The Winx Club I grew up with. 🌚
The first thing I think is essential to know about my writing, is that I grew up with the only french dub existing, which is based on the original one (Rai Italy). I stick a lot to the original plot while I try to make it more conherent and consistent.
Headcanon or Canon? ☀️
I'm mostly canon at first sight. Indeed, I stick to the original plot, but I also tend to modify details, timelines, or events so it makes more sense. I like to change those details enough that the story holds more realism and maturity.
One of the major things I do when I keep the original plot is that I add the details given in the comic books. For those who didn't read them, the main storyline is similar (Bloom looking for her parents, etc...) The comics feel more like filler episodes. That's why I like to add those details to my stories. For example, Bloom has a job in Magix. It is shown in the comics but not the cartoon. This detail makes sense as we see in season 4 that the specialists exchange valuables for paper money. The same goes for Bloom, she works in order to have Magix's currency.
So consider my Winx canon as a mix of both comic books and of the cartoon.
I write a lot about Bloom & Sky, (oops ?🤗) since they are my favorite. I have many, many, MANY ideas for them. So it won't be very balanced between the pairings 😶 However, I do accept prompts and requests for pretty much every character.
Most, if not all my stories are linked. I like to build a consistent timeline. So if you happen to read all the oneshots or longer ff, you will notice some ref to older ff or oneshots I posted. On my main post, always make sure to include a set timeline so it gives you an idea of where the scenes take place. After season 4, I don't acknowledge anything. Not even the second movie (I liked it a lot but it is a huge problem in my timeline since the dubs are all over the place...)
For the stories that happen in the future, those would be more headcanon. The pairings might be canon most of the time, the plots would be so advanced that I don't think they can be considered canon. Plus, I love world-building.
Information on some characters. 🌈
Musa & Tecna: not royals in my AU. They are not introduced as such in the Rai version. Plus, I much prefer them as "normal people" as it brings even more diversity to the cartoon. I would hate to have most Winx girls being princesses... For Tecna, I want to work on her as half fairy, half android. Just like she was supposed to be.
Riven: Oh Riven.... I have a sort of affection for him. Like a soft spot for who he could be if the writing of the show had given him more time to grow. I will work on that. You have my word. Not only do I want him to have a past, but also a future. I see him doing great things.
Aisha/Layla: In the french dub, she is called Layla, but I really like Aisha because we love diversity here. Plus, Aisha has a beautiful meaning!
Sky: In my AU, he stays Brandon at the beginning and then Prince Sky later on like in the original. I plan on writing a few oneshots about what if he had been "prince Sky" from the beginning, or if he had never attended Red Foutain (I really like that one hehe).
Helia: I like the idea of Helia being a bit cold and blunt, like at the beginning of season 2. (or at least he was in French). That man did not care about anybody but Flora and I loved that. So I will work with him in that way.
Diaspro: I get that most fans tend to redeem her a lot, but I think her arc in seasons 1, 2, and 3 is brilliant. Although the path of the narrative did not allow her to grow a little bit or even explain why she behaved the way she did. So, my Diaspro is still... Well Diaspro, but I want to build her more realistically. She is an interesting character. Her being a fairy and yet being manipulative and self-centered is much more realistic. It brings a lot of dimention to the magical world. Wwhat if she was forced by conventions and traditions to be a fairy, because of her nobility ? hmmm... You will have to wait and see.
Nabu: Don't talk to me, he will live on forever on this Tumblr. While I love him, and I adore his sacrifice, I can't let go of him. He is just sleeping, Okay. Now move along. 💨
Samara and Erendor: I have read @gins-potter fanfic (go read it! ) and she made me remember one of my childhood frustration. Why in the world does Sky look nothing like his parents??! Erendor looks like... Brandon? She actually changed their appearance, which I loved. I want to keep Samara as she is, but maybe Erendor will have to suffer a rendez-vous at the hairstylist. And @gins-potter agreed to let me use her depiction of Erendor since it feats perfeclty the way I imagined him.
Domino/Sparx: I will only use Domino as it is the name I always knew. Same for Melody.
When it comes to the Winx and their life after Alfea, I have a very detailed idea of their jobs and position etc... I will either do a post abour it, or just let you guys discover more about it in the stories.
Last Update: 17/06/24.
#winxclub#winx#winx club comics#canon#headcanon#writing#winx fanfic#fanfiction#oneshot#skloom#winxfanfiction#writeblr#ao3 writer
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PLS READ!!!
Im too busy to write so I’ll probably just reblog any good fanfic I find
#reblog this#reblog stuff#twilight#stranger things#harry styles#pedro pascal#scream#ahs fandom#the hunger games#shadowhunters#bridgerton#avatar the way of water#gossip girl#harry potter#vampire diaries#winx club#outer banks#marvel#beck oliver#deadly class#riverdale#the umbrella academy#one direction#glee#heathers#x reader#x yn#fanfic#oneshot#prefrences
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Masterlist 1.)
Hi everyone who landed on my Blog and Masterlist 1.)
I write for the following Fandoms: Hazbin Hotel, The Umbrella Academy, Horseland, Harry Potter, The Owl House, Money Heist (La casa de Papel), Jurassic World, Kim Possible, Fate the Winx Saga, Winx Club, Star Trek the next Generation, Star Trek Voyager
As I love to put Characters in the Parenting Role, i am ready to write Child Character Pov, Character x Reader, Fluff, AU, Family.
Also i am getting into writing Romantic Love, Drama, Angst, Comfort, Lost, Enemies to Lovers slowly so if your Request is getting in that Direction be patient with a Newbie ;-)
As Part of the LGBTQ Community i can try Writing Slash/ FemSlash Request Topics within the named Categories.
Currently my Hyperfixation goes at the Moment to Hazbin Hotel and i am getting into Helluva Boss as well - but to add some Sparkles into the Mix I am happy to take on Request in the named Fandoms :-)
Writing is and should stay a Hobby, so i write the Request neither when i have some time and motivation to do so, or if my busy Adult Life allows me a few Moments of connecting with my Laptop (we really could need VoxTex in our lifes ^^) - so to make myself as the Author of the finished work happy and the Person who sent in the Request, please be patient, it could take a few Days or Weeks or Months to get an Answer to your Request <3 :-)
Masterlist 1.
Hazin Hotel
Hush, my brave Excorcist Angel
Partying against any Resistance
Spooky Season for Beginners
Harry Potter
The Umbrella Academy
Horseland
The Owl House
Jurassic World
Money Heist
Kim Possible
Just like a Circus
Fate the Winx Saga
Winx Club
Star Trek Voyager
Cotton Candy
Cooperation is better than competition
Star Trek: The next Generation
#fanfiction#requests open#writing requests#oneshot#helluvaverse#hazbin hotel#kim possible#horseland#jurassic world fanfic#enemies to lovers#AU#alternative universe#lgbtq community#hobby writer#Parenting AU#money heist#la casa de papel#the owl house#fate the winx saga#star trek next gen#the umbrella academy#harry potter#Winx Club#ffs
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A Favour For A Friend Moodboard (A Rivusa Fic)
This was stupid.
She knew it was stupid.
That didn’t stop her from raising a fist, and knocking on the door.
She stood there, waiting, for about 30 seconds before she shook her head, adjusted her gym bag and started to walk down the hall cursing to herself. That was when the door opened.
“Oi, Musa!” Riven’s voice called, causing the mind fairy to freeze where she stood, “Please tell me you’re not playing Nicky Nicky Ninedoors in the Specialist’s quarters.”
She turned around sheepishly, “No, actually something a lot dumber.”
- - - - -
I wrote a thing, and made a moodboard to go with it. Hope you like it
#rivusa#fate the winx saga#ftws#rivusa ftws#fate musa#fate riven#oneshot#moodboard#soft#fluff#comfort fic
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Come out (wherever you are)
Stella has had feelings for Beatrix for a while, and she's finally certain about her crush. But who should she tell?
For all of Beatrix’s flaws, she at least made for an easy online stalk. Not one of her accounts were private, leaving her hundreds of pictures, endless reels and frequent stories free for the world (or more specifically perhaps, a certain light fairy) to see.
It was unusual for Stella to have a crush. For her entire life, her every move had been overshadowed with the all-consuming pressure of being the heir to the Solarian throne. Whenever she felt herself catching feelings, she not only had to think about her own attraction but also the small matter of the entire otherworld’s future. No pressure.
That’s why this new flirtation had her tied up in knots. Beatrix was unlike anyone she’d ever met before; bold, blunt and brash, massively stubborn and perpetually sure of herself. She’d dated rebels before, but nobody quite like her.
There was also the obvious fact that Beatrix was.. well.. a woman. Never before had a same-sex couple ruled over Solaria- What would her mother think?
Anxious thoughts swirled around inside her mind as she scrolled mindlessly through the air fairy’s instagram page, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest she felt upon seeing Beatrix’s pouting, red lips and frequently exposed midriff.
It was getting harder to ignore her feelings and Stella knew it. Every interaction with her friend was now consumed by her relentless desire to be close to her, to hold her in her arms and feel the gentle intimacy of their skin against each other’s.
With every lingering gaze and secret smile exchanged along the corridors, she had come to realise that she knew exactly what she wanted. Stella just had to decide what she was willing to do to get it, and the pressure was eating her up inside.
She groaned, throwing herself backwards against her pillows and covering her face in her hands, abandoning her phone by her side.
A few moments later, she heard a knock on the bedroom door, followed by the sound of it swinging open.
“Is everything ok Stella? I thought I heard some noises.”
Terra peered into the room, squinting through the hand she held over her eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine, just couldn’t get the best angle for a selfie,” she responded, “You can drop the hand.”
The earth fairy nodded in response, starting to leave the room before Stella spoke.
“Wait! Actually, erm, can we talk.. Please?” the blonde said quietly, looking down at her lap and trying to swallow back her suddenly overwhelming nerves.
Terra looked taken aback for a split second but quickly shook it off, closing the door behind her and cautiously edging towards the bed as though she half expected Stella to change her mind and yell at her to get out.
“You can sit down.”
Terra sunk down onto the end of the mattress as Stella shuffled over, turning to face her friend with a sombre expression.
She sat silently for a moment, nervously running her hands through her hair and across her face.
“Stella… You know you can talk to me about anything,” Terra said slowly, her eyes searching the blonde’s expression in concern.
Against her will, Stella felt tears starting to sting in her eyes, and she hastily brushed them away with a pink, cotton sleeve.
She opened her mouth to speak, before immediately closing it again, struggling to find the right words for what she wanted to say.
“Terra-“ she started before cutting herself off, squeezing her eyes firmly shut.
Her friend reached over, taking her hand.
She squeezed it, feeling the warmth of the gesture flood through her body.
“I think… I think that I… ” She inhaled deeply, trying to prevent her voice from wavering, “like girls?”
Even as she said it, she felt as though a weight lifted off her shoulders.
This was Terra she was talking to. Somebody who had been through the exact same thing, and had probably felt many of the feelings she was feeling. Someone who could help.
She opened her eyes just in time to be met with a crushing hug and a grinning friend.
“Thank you so much for telling me. I’m really proud of you Stella, I know this must be huge.”
Stella allowed herself to lean into the embrace, burying her head into the crook of her friend’s neck.
Suddenly, Terra pulled away.
“Wait, is there a girl?” the earth fairy gushed, unable to keep a grin from her face, “Do I know her?”
Stella blushed bright red, averting her gaze.
“There’s no girl.”
Terra seemed unconvinced.
“Well I’m happy to be your wingwoman whenever you decide to admit it.”
Suddenly, a text lit up Stella’s discarded phone and both women looked over.
Beatrix: Tonight at the library? I have whiskey.
Terra looked up from the screen, meeting her friend’s eyes with a playful look. The blonde looked away, snatching it up and hugging it to her chest.
“That’s nothin-“ Stella started, just as Terra said.
“I guess that’s another mystery solved. How long have you been in love with Beatrix?”
#oneshot#fate the winx saga#ftws#stellatrix#sterra#terra#stella#stella of solaria#beatrix#rivusa#coming out scene#queer
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5 times Sky wanted to experience what Brandon did + 1 time he did
A little writing piece about Sky and Brandon (Sky's perspective)
Hope you enjoy :)
Sky had known Brandon from his first memory, Brandon was older than he by a good few months, not that it mattered now, but as a child, Sky had thought it to be the coolest thing (and maybe he was a tad jealous). He'd vocalized this to his parents, but he'd been dismissed, his mother saying, 'you're a prince Sky, grow up,' and his father saying, 'wait till you're King, then everyone will be jealous.'
Sky was happy to admit he'd never taken any of that advice.
-
Moving forward in his memories was nicer, he remembered things more clearly and they were happier: he’d gotten to hang out with a family! He remembered the first dinner he spent with Brandon and it was absolutely divine. The food made was homely and conversation flew easily, and he was included.
He was 8 and Brandon was 9, making his sisters about 5 and 3 if Sky was able to recall correctly. They'd stared at him and he remembered being creeped out, brown eyes and green eyes staring directly into the soul, until the elder one said, “You've got pretty blue eyes!”
Young Brandon had, very kindly, replied, “Don't be a creep!”
Before taking Sky's hand to drag him to Brandon's room. Sky remembered thinking it was absolutely tiny. There was a bed neatly tucked into the corner with a bookshelf over the top of it, stuffed with books about fighting. At the bottom of the bed was a box which was also packed, but with toys instead. There was a calendar on the other side of the room, atop the yellow walls. There was a wardrobe too, it was covered with stickers but one of the doors was slightly off the hinges. Brandon���s bed covers were different too, the covers a dark blue and the curtains were a dark red. The room was also messy, very messy; Brandon didn’t seem to care.
“This is my room,” Brandon had said, smiling.
Sky remembered smiling in response. They spent a lot of the day chatting on the bed, jumping off of the bed and playing with the toys from the bottom box. Sky even remembered playing a short game of hide and seek, where they’d taken turns in hiding under the bed or within the wardrobe. It had already been a great day.
Brandon’s mom had come up, and opened the door with a smile to the two, “Dinners almost ready boys, want to help us set the table?”
Sky didn’t know what that was at the time, but Brandon sure seemed happy to comply.
They put the forks down and the knives, and Brandon’s dad even let them help light the candle, Sky had been mesmerized.
The five of them had then eaten dinner, conversation throughout and he had adored it! He wasn’t excluded from the family conversations and the adults had even talked to him. The only thing he hated about dinner was the finishing, and being finished meant he had to go home, those were the conditions set by his parents.
“We hope you enjoyed today, Sky,” Brandon’s mom had said, eyes crinkling.
Brandon’s dad had agreed and continued, “We’d be more than happy to have you again.”
Brandon had shouted, “Yeah!”
Sky had wanted that and said as much.
When he’d gotten home, his mother sent him straight to bed. His bedroom felt empty, the walls were the same color, a miserable white. And yes his room was massive but it didn’t scream him, like Brandon’s had.
He had said at dinner with his parents, “Do you think we could decorate my room?”
His mother had frankly responded, “Sky, do not talk at the dinner table, what have we said?”
Sky remained silent. And had contemplated what he’d experienced at his friend’s. He decided he might be a little bit jealous of that family life.
-
Brandon and he were 13, and were at Brandon’s as per usual. Brandon’s dad was with them too though, something rather rare for the Eraklyon guard, due to the packed schedule. They were being taught how to fight, with a sword.
It was the condition for Brandon’s father to actually have time off for his wife’s pregnancy, to teach Sky how to defend himself. Brandon had been joining in.
Sky had been taller than Brandon for a while, but Brandon was slowly catching up, Sky had loved to hold that over his head.
During their training, they’d both been doing well, Sky had been excelling though, feeling a preference towards the more ‘classic’ weapons, a shield and sword. But he was more looking forward to the broadsword, he didn’t know why, it just looked cool, really. It was tall and well wide, and if used well could split earth, a rare weapon among specialists, something he aspired to be.
Brandon, to put it nicely, had been clueless, at least at the beginning of the lessons before he became more confident by the end. Sky knew this would be the case, due to their different backgrounds, but thought he’d have been a bit more knowledgeable due to the multiple books of fighting that now littered Brandon’s room. Still, Sky wasn’t judgemental, Brandon was his best friend.
Sky remembered voicing his excitement to his friend, Brandon hadn’t shared the same excitement, but still voiced his enjoyment, especially over the fact that they’d actually be getting a different teacher, opposed to his dad. Sky hadn’t and still didn’t understand why Brandon was excited to not be taught by his dad, Brandon’s dad had always been great. Though, Sky hadn’t shown his bewilderment over the statement.
Once they arrived at the designated area for the lesson, they were introduced to their ‘teacher’, a younger member of Eraklyon’s Royal Guard, who was to be supervised by Brandon’s dead.
His name was Ezra, and he was tall and muscled and very smiley. He had blonde hair that was tied up in a ponytail, and had sparkly blue eyes. Sky had remembered wanting to be just like him.
Throughout the lesson he provided gentle encouragement, along with the advice. He had structured the lesson, in a very effective way (Sky had thought): to begin with Ezra had shown the posed and moves without the sword and had had the two copy him; then there were wooden broadswords where Ezra had showed them how to grip effectively and then they copied the moves with the wooden swords.
Sky had thought it had gone great, the sword didn’t exactly feel right but he’d put it down to the well, wooden make of the weapon. Ezra had agreed and promised that in the next few weeks he would provide the two with ‘proper swords, that would suit their sizes’. Sky hadn’t been able to contain his excitement.
A few weeks had passed, the twos training had continued to go well, there was always the looming sense of excitement for if the two’s broadswords had been sorted. Finally, that day arrived.
Sky had jumped around in excitement (though he will deny it to anyone who asks), and couldn’t wait to try the sword out. They had to have a refresher session, before actually using the weapons (which made sense, but Sky had been so eager). The strikes, the moves, the hold was recapped, and then, Ezra placed the sword in Sky’s hands.
He had wobbled. He’d managed to steady himself, but he felt off balance, like it was too heavy, which didn’t make sense, it was made for him, ‘why didn't it work?’ He’d been thinking. He had been holding it correctly, but it had felt so loose in his hands. Whenever he’d tried to do a move, or anything really, with the sword, his whole balance was spun around. And for a moment he had stopped; he saw Brandon, who’d been frolicking around with the sword.
It was hard not to feel bitter about it.
-
Brandon and he had grown a lot. Brandon now towered over most people and Sky wasn’t to be considered short by other planets, despite being ‘average’ on Eraklyon. Despite his physical growth, his parents still refused to allow him to leave the planet at all, not even to attend Red Fountain.
“I can’t believe this,” Sky complained to Brandon, the both of them hanging out in Brandon’s (now tiny) room.
“Why don’t you just talk to them some more, dude?” Brandon replied, flicking his fringe away from his eyes.
“The only way they’d let me leave is if I had constant protection, which would look ridiculously stupid in a hero school,” Sky said, groaning, before contemplating, “Unless… Brandon, how would you feel about attending Red Fountain with me?”
Brandon looked taken aback, “You know, I’d love it. You also know, my parents can’t afford that. They’ve got other kids too, and are barely considered middle class.”
Sky smirked, before running to the castle shouting back, “Leave that to me!”
He approached his father, explained an idea, “Father, you know how much I would love to go to the school and I respect that you are worried, but I have a solution to a multitude of problems.”
Erendor looked up at his son, and raised his eyebrow, “Go on.”
“My friend Brandon, also wants to go to this school, and well you know he’s a very skilled fighter, and as payment you could pay for his well schooling fee?” Sky explained, speedily.
“While that is a wonderful thought son,” Erendor started, voice dragging, “We’d much rather someone to be a decoy, unless, I suppose… show me a photo of him.”
Sky complied, rather embarrassed at the fact his father could not remember his best friend and the son of his quite frankly underpaid Captain of the Guard. He got a recent photo up, one Brandon’s mom had taken of them by a tree on a family outing they’d all been on.
His father closely inspected the photo, he then looked up at Sky, “This could work. He’d have to be tested and appointed to your Squire, if he does well. But he certainly could pass as a Prince, as well as your protector, if he fights like the brute he looks.”
Over the next few days, Brandon underwent many trials and had been appointed to Squire. Sky had never been more proud of his best friend, though he may have been slightly bitter over his friend’s ability to gain the approval of his parents, something he’d struggled with plenty.
-
Sky couldn't help but look on in amusement at the flirting between Brandon and Stella, that he’d gotten a few months off of, due to Stella’s expulsion. It was fun to tease the two of them. Or it had been last year. Not now, not now that he knew Brandon would tease him right back about Bloom. He didn’t know whether he was supposed to be thankful for the advice provided, Sky would just nod along in hopes to get his friend to shut up.
How Brandon could confidently flirt, he had no clue, maybe it was the fact he and Stella were a sure thing. Or maybe Brandon just really had insane amounts of confidence when it came to that sort of thing, which he would be jealous about if that were the case.
-
Everything had been revealed, the ‘truth’ given away by his own father, who had been the one to come up with this stupid plan. He felt numb. He felt guilty. He couldn’t do anything to change it. He couldn’t blame those who looked at him with hate.
He had flashes of the faces he saw when it happened: Bloom’s tear ridden faced, eyes red and puffy; Stella’s haunted face that got more hollow as he stared; Timmy’s face decorated with anger, something rarely displayed by him; Riven’s look of unsurprised surprise; Flora’s confused and quiet rage; Musa’s contrasting loud outrage; Tecna’s uncertainty and Brandon’s look of shame, embarrassment, mortification.
The girls seemed to disappear with a flash, Timmy and Riven walked away. Diaspro had long stormed off. Brandon was stationary, frozen, statuesque.
They’d gotten home, Timmy had already left, Riven too. It was just the Prince and Squire.
Brandon was silent, Sky tried, but conversation didn’t prevail. Sky tried to contact everyone to explain everything, yet no one listened, everyone had hung him up if he could call them, most who he’d had a friendship with had blocked him.
Brandon remained silent.
Sky knew exactly what Brandon was feeling but didn’t. He felt both. A lot of times he’d wished he could feel or experience what Brandon felt, he didn’t now, because he felt the same.
#winx sky#winx brandon#angst#oneshot#winx club#moonstream's stuff :)#hope you enjoy#sky angst#then a bit of Brandon angst
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looking for a proofreader
okay so I decided that I will finally sit down and write fanfiction again. I never wrote fanfictions about winx before and since english is not my first language I’d definitely need someone to proofread it. If you are interested, just pm me!
#so far i only wrote inuyasha ff oneshots#but i don't have contact to the person who was proofreading before anymore unfortunately#winx club fanfiction#i totally have driven ideas in my head#other couples i'd def like to write are brella. valcy and even my beloved new crackship skiya#also maybe flora x riven but i am not sure yet#so if you are interested just tell me!#i also wrote some m rated stuff for the sailor moon musicals#it's basically pwp and not in english either only one friend of mine knows them#now that i posted it i have no excuse but write
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Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious
Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.
Word Count: 17.4k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)
i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.
i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!
warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader
You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.
At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.
It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhD’s for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.
After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didn’t know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think you’ve got the hang of it.
You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.
Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. “You done for the day, sweetheart?”
You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldn’t have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.
When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.
Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.
“Just about,” you replied, straightening the stack. “I was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?”
Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. “Can’t a guy just drop by and check in on ya?”
You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess, but somehow I doubt you’re just here to ‘check in.’” You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. “So, what’s up?”
Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. “You’ve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesn’t take me long. Unlike someone else.”
Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlin’."
You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re just mad because I keep proving I’m right.” You rounded your desk, smirking. “Plus, I’m having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. “Movie night, huh? Lemme guess—something boring and science-y?”
You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. “Not every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.”
“Mmhmm,” he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didn’t believe you for a second. “So, what are you watchin’, then? Some quantum physics thriller?”
You rolled your eyes, grinning. “It’s The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so don’t knock them.”
Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. “I’ll let it slide this time, darlin’. But if I hear you talkin’ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your ‘break,’ I’m dragging you out of that mansion myself.”
You gave him a mock-serious look. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I would,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “And we both know I could.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you up—literally—and dragging you away when he thought you’d been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.
Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. “Look, Y/N, I’m serious. You’ve been bustin’ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?”
There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. “I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.”
“Good,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “’Cause I don’t wanna hear about you passin’ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.”
You walked to the door and turned back to face him, “Einstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.” You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.
Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everything—whether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missions—had caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.
He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an area—your perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought he’d never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.
And that was why he found you so fascinating.
You were brilliant, no doubt about it—always talking about equations, theories, and whatever else you’d been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.
It wasn’t like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.
Everyone except you, apparently.
You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Logan’s eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldn’t. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you weren’t around.
---
Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though you’d seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.
You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfits—leggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldn’t remember who. Logan’s scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.
You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.
“I still don’t get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,” Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, shouldn’t it be cheesy?”
“It is cheesy,” you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. “But it’s good cheesy. There’s a difference.”
Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. “You’ve seen this how many times now?”
“Don’t judge me,” you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. “This is a classic.”
Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. “More classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Not every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.”
Ororo smiled knowingly. “Mmm, true, but you’re always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.”
“That’s because science is everywhere!” you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t not notice when something’s wrong.”
Jean grinned. “Like that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesn’t work like that?”
You huffed a laugh. “Well, it doesn’t. It’s all—”
“Science, we know,” Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.
“Okay, okay,” you conceded, holding up your hands. “I’ll try not to nerd out tonight.”
“That’s all we ask,” Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.
For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.
When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”
“Same,” Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.
“Guess I’ll get ready for bed too, then.” You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororo’s room was close by theirs.
Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.
Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.
You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis you’d created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.
You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.
There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?
“Y/N?” Logan’s voice came from the other side. “You still awake?”
Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothes—an oversized t-shirt and shorts—before cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.
“Logan? It’s kind of late. What’s up?” you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.
He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. “Came by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.”
You blinked, taken aback. “A walk? Now?”
“Yeah,” he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re always sayin’ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe you’d want some fresh air.”
You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t deny the appeal of a nighttime walk—especially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.
“Alright,” you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Let me put on some shoes.”
Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.
“Ready,” you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.
Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldn’t help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.
“So,” Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, “how was the movie?”
You smiled, glancing at him. “It was good. A classic, really.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Jean and Ororo didn’t give you a hard time?”
You chuckled. “Well, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.”
Logan smirked. “Yeah, they like to tease. Just means they’re comfortable around ya.”
You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didn’t say much, but that was one of the things you liked about him—he didn’t need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just… there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didn’t realize you needed it at the time.
“So, Logan,” you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, “what’s the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didn’t just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.”
He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. “Maybe I like the scenery more than I let on.”
“Right,” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’ve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.”
“Who says I’m talkin’ about the roses, sweetheart?”
You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. “Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.”
There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one you’d grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing you—soft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasn’t like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.
You gave him a sidelong glance, but Logan’s expression remained as it usually did—a little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.
“Y’know,” Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, “you really are a mystery, sweetheart.”
You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “What do you mean by that?”
Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. “You’re this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes… you’re completely clueless.”
You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. “Clueless? Me? I don’t think that’s possible.”
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readin’ people? Not so much.”
Your frown deepened. “I think I read people just fine, Logan.”
He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, do ya?”
“Yeah,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.”
Logan’s smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. “Is that so?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, that’s so. What are you getting at?”
Logan’s grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.
“You’re dodging the question,” you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. “What are you getting at?”
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. “I’m just sayin’, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you don’t always see what’s right in front of you.”
You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “I see everything just fine, Logan. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”
“Subtle, huh?” Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just a little too focused on the wrong things.”
You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didn’t offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery he’d planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.
“This is just another one of your games, isn’t it?” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. “You like keeping me guessing.”
“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Keeps things interestin’, don’t ya think?”
You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You weren’t going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.
Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Logan’s presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.
“You know,” you began after a while, your voice softer now, “just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.”
Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
“I’m serious!��� you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “I just… maybe I’m not as concerned with people’s motives as much as I am with facts and data. It’s different.”
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like it’s a puzzle. But people? We’re a little more complicated than that.”
You tilted your head, thinking about that. “I don’t see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, don’t they?”
Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. “Not always.”
There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.
“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “how’s your latest project goin’? Still messing with those gadgets?”
You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. “Yeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hank’s been helping me out with some of the materials, but we’re having trouble stabilizing the energy output.”
Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. “Sounds like somethin’ you’ll figure out soon enough.”
“I hope so,” you said with a small smile. “But it’s been a little frustrating.”
“Not used to runnin’ into roadblocks, huh?” Logan teased.
“Not really,” you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. “I’m used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This one’s been… tricky.”
Logan gave a low hum of understanding. “That’s the thing about science, sweetheart. It ain’t always predictable.”
“Yeah, but I like predictability,” you said with a shrug. “It makes sense. People, on the other hand…”
Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”
The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—projects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.
As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didn’t understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet… here he was.
“Logan?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze shifting to you.
“Why do you do this?”
He frowned, genuinely confused. “Do what?”
“Walk with me. Spend time with me. You’re not exactly the most sociable guy around here.”
Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Maybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?”
You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be so direct about… feelings. You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” you admitted after a moment.
Logan’s smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. “That’s ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ about everythin’ else, doll.”
You didn’t respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasn’t one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question things—yourself, your understanding of the world—without ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was… endearing.
As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldn’t help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being ‘clueless.’ It wasn’t like you didn’t notice things—sure, people had their layers, but you weren’t blind to them. So what was he talking about?
---
The next morning, you were back in your usual routine—teaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didn’t mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.
After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.
The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.
Logan shrugged. “Figured I’d stop by. See how you’re doin’.”
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You checking up on me again?”
He chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. “But it doesn’t hurt to check in every now and then.”
Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.
“You ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?” You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "I’ve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. “Wild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.”
He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didn’t think much of it, but Logan’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.
“Well?” you asked, watching him expectantly. “What do you think?”
Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. “Sweet,” he finally said, his voice low. “Real sweet.”
You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didn’t quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. “Told you,” you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. “Fresh strawberries are unbeatable.”
He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. “You take real pride in this, don’t ya?”
“Of course,” you said, glancing at him between bites. “There’s something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. It’s like… I don’t know, creating life.”
Logan’s eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You care a lot about the little det- ” He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.
You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Logan’s heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.
You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasn’t easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climate’s shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though you’d never flaunt it.
Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didn’t seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and grace—it was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.
“Something wrong?” you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.
Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Nah, just... thinkin’. You’re somethin’, you know that?”
You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. “If that’s your way of saying I’m a genius again, I already know.”
He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. “That’s not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.” His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.
But as usual, the hint flew right past you. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll take it as a compliment.” You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. “And you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.”
“Specific, huh?” Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. “Alright then, you’re smart, sure. But there’s more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.” His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.
You frowned a little, confused. “Earlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That.”
You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. “Logan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.”
Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, doll. I get that.” He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustrating—not in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.
“So,” you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. “What’s got you wandering into the greenhouse today? It’s not exactly your usual haunt.”
Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. “Just felt like stoppin’ by. Spend some time with you. Ain’t that a good enough reason?”
You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. “I suppose. It’s just... you don’t usually care about plants and stuff.”
“Well, maybe I’m changin’,” Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. “So... you wanna help?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “Me? Helpin’ with your garden?”
“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer to him. “You’ve got hands, don’t you? It’s not all that complicated.”
He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. “Alright, sweetheart, show me how it’s done.”
You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. “Just give them a little water. Not too much though—they don’t like it when their roots get too wet.”
Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasn’t the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.
“You really know your stuff, don’t ya?” Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.
“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Plus, it’s kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole ‘controlling nature’ thing.”
Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you don’t talk about ‘em much.”
“I talk to them.” You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. “No. I was joking!”
Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You got me there, sweetheart,” he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.
You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I don’t have full-on conversations with them. That’d be weird."
"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."
You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "It’s just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."
Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didn’t notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"
You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?”
Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"
You handed him the basket full of weeds, “throw them out.”
He raised an eyebrow, “that’s it?”
You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.
“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. “I’m gonna lock up and bring these inside.”
Logan didn’t move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.
That small, unspoken connection you two had—the one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with you—had started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.
As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. “You’re still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?”
Logan’s smirk widened. “Oh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.”
You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. “Right. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if it’s not too busy.”
Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. “You got it, doll. I’ll lend a hand.”
Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you liked—just the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was ‘being a gentleman.’
You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.
You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.
“Hey, those are for me,” she said, moving slightly to block Scott’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for these kiwis all week.”
Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, babe.”
Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. “Thanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.”
“Of course,” you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. “You’ve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.”
Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.
“You sure know how to make people happy, doll,” Logan said, his voice low but teasing. “Always goin’ above and beyond for everyone.”
You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It’s just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.”
Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Logan’s tone. She had noticed the way he’d been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you weren’t looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.
“You’re selling yourself short,” Jean said, throwing you a grin. “It’s not just the kiwis. You’ve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott can’t admit he’s jealous of my fruit.”
Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.”
You smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that way—predictable, manageable. You didn’t dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.
Logan’s smirk widened slightly at Jean’s comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didn’t quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.
You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororo’s office without saying a word, something they were already used to.
“You sure you’re not going to say anything? You know, that’s actually straight to the point?” Jean asked Logan.
Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, “at this point, you’re like a love-sick puppy following her around.”
Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. “Keep talking dickhead.” He threatened.
Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "He’s not wrong though, Logan. You’ve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. We’ve all noticed."
Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "She’s a good kid. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on her."
Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what we’re calling it now?"
Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. “You know, you could just tell her how you feel. She’s oblivious, but she’s not stupid. Sooner or later, she’s going to notice.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicated—he’d never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.
“She’s got her own life,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. “I ain’t lookin’ to mess that up.”
Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. “Logan, you’re not messing anything up. In fact, I think you’d be adding something important to her life. She’s not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldn’t even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.”
Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.”
Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “That’s what makes her so special, Logan. She’s genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesn’t play games—what you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesn’t realize it in the same way you do yet.”
Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, “Plus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayin’.”
Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. “Ain’t nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.”
Jean chuckled softly, giving Logan’s arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Well, when you’re ready, just remember—it’s okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.”
Logan didn’t respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jean’s support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?
Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.
---
You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.
They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.
But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.
Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.
“Need any help, princess?”
You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.
Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Need any help, princess?” His voice was low and casual, but that nickname—'princess’—it was just one of the many he’d taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadn’t heard this one before.
You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. You’d known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.
He made a small grunt, as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.
Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you weren’t exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.
He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.
You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Logan’s neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.
"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Logan’s arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.
Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.
You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "I’m pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didn’t sound all that convincing even to you.
"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I don’t mind."
You huffed in mock defiance, but you didn’t exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan felt…nice. Comfortable, even. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this.
As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.
"You know, this could’ve been avoided if I’d just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.
Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, I’ve seen you rock combat boots and still look like you’re ready for a photoshoot. But those heels…" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."
You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good online…"
He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"
"I didn’t get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldn’t help but laugh. "They’re cute! Just not comfortable."
Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didn’t press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.
"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.
"I’ve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.
But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."
You couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.
As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.
"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.
Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.
"I’m not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "They’re not that bad. I just…need to break them in."
Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."
"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.
"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"
You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like this—playful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.
"Anyway, shouldn’t you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"
His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."
You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath."
He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didn’t say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of him—of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.
You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you weren’t fully aware of how Logan’s eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind of…nice? Logan wasn’t like other guys. He wasn’t intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.
"Alright, well, thanks for the…uh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think I’m good now."
Logan didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."
And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughts—and the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.
---
Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.
Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.
This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.
Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since you’ve been here for the past year, you’ve already held 4 sessions, including this one.
“Careful with those strawberries,” you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. “We need them in slices, not chunks.”
“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.
You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe you’d written down.
"How’s it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.
“Good, I think,” Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. “Is this enough?”
You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesn’t go everywhere."
Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.
Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.
He couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.
The sight made him smirk—something about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.
“Whatcha got cookin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.
You didn’t glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.
Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. “Depends. Is it any good?”
You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You doubt my baking skills?”
He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. “Wouldn’t call it doubt, doll. Just curious.”
You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "You’ll have to wait until they’re done to find out."
One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/N’s baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last time—they were gone in like ten minutes."
Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."
You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didn’t think much of it. Guys didn’t usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as ‘one of the guys.’ Logan’s pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.
But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.
“You need any help?” Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.
“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down?” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.
“I think I can handle it,” Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.
You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. “Here, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.”
You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.
He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"
His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.
"Yeah, that’s perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didn’t realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."
Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in class—tight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Logan’s proximity felt… intense in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.
You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I don’t know… when I was a kid? I just started because it’s a nice break from… everything I guess.”
Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jean’s waist as they watched the scene. “Think she’ll finally realize,” he asked.
Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, “who knows? But Logan’s certainly getting bolder.”
Jean shook her head, “I told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasn’t taken my advice.”
Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit."
Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "He’s not exactly hiding it."
Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Logan’s efforts. It wasn’t that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharp—when it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.
"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "She’s a genius, but this…" She waved a hand in Logan’s direction. "This seems to be one thing she’s totally clueless about."
Jean smiled sympathetically. "She’s not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not… you know, a woman."
Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. He’s made that much obvious. But I wonder how long it’ll take for her to figure it out."
Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."
The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching you—or how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.
"She’s too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."
Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everything—and to be fair, she does know a lot—but she’s missing the whole picture here."
---
After Logan’s stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jean’s advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.
Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.
Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there weren’t any other chairs available.
You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.
“C’mere doll.” Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.
You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. “What?”
He patted his thigh, “I don’t bite.”
Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. “I, uh- ”
Logan’s smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be shy. There’s a perfectly good seat right here.”
You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didn’t want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.
“Alright,” you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.
Logan’s arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didn’t say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “You alright there, sweetheart?”
You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. “Just trying to get comfortable.”
Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.
The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Logan’s hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.
---
At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.
Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.
Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.
Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.
Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and she’s still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.
"She’s a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "She’s supposed to know everything."
Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesn’t know this. And I’m in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didn’t leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.
Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like she’s completely missing the point."
"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. She’s too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."
Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "You’ve got the patience of a saint. Most people would’ve given up by now."
Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ain’t in any hurry. She’s worth the wait."
Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day she’ll actually catch on."
As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Logan’s attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.
"You’re like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.
Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.
“Logan!” you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.
He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."
You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Why’d you—"
"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkin’ about over there seemed pretty important."
Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! It’s been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think we’ve figured out how to—"
Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.
"You’re incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.
You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"
"I said you’re incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where it’s due."
Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."
"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But don’t forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ain’t good for anyone."
"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.
---
“You’ve never even been clubbing!?” Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. “And you know I’m not talking about something like a ‘gardening club’.”
“And you have?” You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.
Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. “Oh, Y/N, honey, I’ve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.”
Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "She’s right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."
You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I don’t know… It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."
Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You can’t hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."
You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"
Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress you’d forgotten you owned. “Who knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone you’ve been completely blind to.”
Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone who’s been giving you attention for months, perhaps."
Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Let’s see how it looks."
You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jean’s hands. "I still don’t get what the big deal is. I’m perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."
Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. “Trust us. You’ll thank us later.”
---
A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.
"I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.
Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "You’re going to have fun. Trust me. It’s a nice change of pace."
Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. You’ve been working hard."
As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.
You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used to—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet.
Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"
You shrugged, glancing around. "It’s... different."
"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, you’ll feel better."
The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."
You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."
The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.
---
An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.
You don’t think you’ve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.
So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.
You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. “Here, let me help,” she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.
“I’m fine, Jean!” you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You weren’t used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.
Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. “Maybe next time we won’t let you have quite so many drinks,” she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. “You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”
“I’m a genius,” you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, “I’ll be fine.”
Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Oh yeah? Even geniuses can’t outsmart a hangover.”
You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. “Who put a trap here?”
Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldn’t help but join in.
“You know,” Ororo started between giggles, “for someone who knows everything, you sure don’t know how to handle a drink.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. “It’s... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.”
“Right,” Jean said, leaning back with a grin, “just like Logan’s flirting.”
You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. “Logan’s what?”
Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.
“His flirting,” Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.
You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. “Flirting? Logan? With me?”
Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Y/N. For months. You seriously haven’t noticed?”
You stared at them both, utterly lost. “Flirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?”
Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. “I think you’re too far gone to process this tonight.”
You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didn’t make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.
Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. “Let’s get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.”
---
The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.
As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?
You shook your head. That couldn’t be right. Logan wasn’t the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?
Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.
“Mornin’, doll,” Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.
You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word ‘flirting’ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.
“Uh... morning,” you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldn’t stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. “Guess you didn’t take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?”
You blinked. “What advice?”
“Last night,” he said, smirking, “told ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.”
Your brow furrowed. ���Wait, you were there?”
“Yeah,” Logan said, clearly amused. “Passed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.”
You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. “Well, I’ll survive.”
Logan gave you a lazy grin. “Tough as nails, aren’t ya?”
You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I guess so.”
There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. “Good thing. Wouldn’t want ya to break, sweetheart.”
Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. “Uh... right.”
Logan’s smirk didn’t fade as he stepped back. “See ya around, darlin’.”
You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.
---
It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.
Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didn’t like you. You weren’t exactly the kind of girl they wanted.
Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldn’t.
He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesn’t mean he’s too late to apply.
Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadn’t seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.
Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.
"Remember to look into some engineering programs! I’d think they’d be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.
"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.
You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"
Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."
Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I’ve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."
Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, don’t ya, doll?"
You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.
“You finally figured it out then, didn’t ya?” He asked.
“I- well, uh…” you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by ‘you finally figured it out’? Were Ororo and Jean right?
Logan’s smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "You’re a genius, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now."
Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How I’ve been flirtin’ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.
Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didn’t make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were… well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didn’t flirt with you.
"You’ve been—wait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "You’ve been flirting with me?"
Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansion’s noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."
Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches… it all seemed so… normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.
"I—" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"
Logan shrugged. "Didn’t think it was their place. Figured you’d catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didn’t expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."
You were sure your face couldn’t get any redder. "I’m not… I’m not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me."
Logan’s eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"
"Because I’m… me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys don’t flirt with me, Logan. They’re usually intimidated or just… I don’t know. I’m not the kind of girl guys like."
You didn’t have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.
Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.
You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two master’s degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.
One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.
Guys didn’t like you. That’s just the way it was.
Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, doll. You think guys don’t notice you?”
You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. “I don’t think, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You paused, hesitating before you added, “I’m not exactly… good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. I’m better at figuring out equations than people.”
Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ve got this idea in your head that no one’s gonna want you because you’re too smart or too different, but that ain’t true. Not even close.”
You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. “I just… I don’t see why you’d be interested in me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re Logan. You could have anyone.”
Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I don’t want just anyone.” His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. “I want you.”
Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with you—Logan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy you’d come to admire over the past year—and you’d been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?
“I… I don’t understand,” you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. “Why me?”
Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. “Because you’re brilliant, Y/N. You’ve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t let anyone push you around. And you’re so damn kind, even when you don’t have to be.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, but… well, you’re not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.”
You blinked. “I’m not?”
Logan smirked. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.”
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. “I just didn’t think you… I didn’t think anyone would… you know.”
Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. “Well, I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I’ve been waitin’ for you to figure it out.”
You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadn’t noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
"Logan, I…" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding.
He really liked you.
Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? That’s a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.
You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "It’s just… I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me. You’re Logan, and I’m…" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."
Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"
You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didn’t last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.
He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.
Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.
"You really think I’d waste my time on someone I didn’t want?" Logan’s voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadn’t heard before.
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?
"Logan, I…" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so close—it was too much.
He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, you’re overthinking again."
Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "I’m just… surprised. I didn’t think…" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.
No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and… normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.
Because you weren’t just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-
Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Hey, stop thinkin’. What the hell could you be thinkin’ about right now?”
You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. “Nothin’,” you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasn’t buying it.
Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.
You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just… I don’t get why you’d want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "You’re this… badass, Logan. You’ve been through so much. You could have anyone."
His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I don’t want anyone else. I want you."
You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.
"I just…" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I’m not… I’ve never been good at… people. Relationships. I mean, I’m good at math, science, and solving problems but not—this."
Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You don’t gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."
Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadn’t dated much—hardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldn’t quite solve.
"Logan, I…" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.
"You overthinkin’ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.
You couldn’t help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"That’s what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You don’t gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just… let it happen."
You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.
"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryin’ to solve it like it’s some kinda problem. Just be with me."
You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldn’t help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you weren’t good enough at this? What if—
Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, you’re doin’ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "You’re thinkin’ too much."
You sighed, biting your lip again. "I can’t help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "That’s just how my brain works."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlin’. But you don’t gotta do that with me."
His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just… be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didn’t expect you to be anything but yourself.
"I…" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I don’t know how to not overthink things."
Logan’s smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then I’ll just have to distract you, won’t I?"
Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.
Logan was kissing you.
Logan.
Was kissing.
You.
Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasn’t what you expected—nothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
If you would’ve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you would’ve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Logan’s shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first kiss would go. Not that you’d spent a lot of time imagining it—honestly, you’d been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldn’t have been it. Not with a man like Logan.
His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyone’s expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.
When he pulled back, it wasn’t by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Logan’s lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.
“Well,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “that didn’t seem too bad, did it?”
You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. “I… I don’t—what just happened?”
Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. “I just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless I’m readin’ the situation wrong, you didn’t mind too much.”
Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. “No, I—” You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mind. It’s just—”
“Just what?” Logan’s voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.
“I wasn’t expecting it.” You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “I didn’t think someone like you… I mean, I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think anyone would- ”
Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didn’t, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think what, sweetheart?”
You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldn’t figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just… I don’t know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?"
You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of it—soft, unexpected, but not unwelcome—was playing on a loop in your head. You hadn’t been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.
But you couldn’t lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.
A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.
Logan’s eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved I’ve still got it."
You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Logan’s smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.
"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."
Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"
You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I don’t know. I mean, you’re a couple of hundred years old. Thought you might’ve lost your touch."
Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Logan’s confidence was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that—there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.
"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."
Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "’Cause I don’t wanna hear any more about me bein’ rusty or old. Got it?"
You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."
chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic
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"so what now?" for riven and musa?
It seemed like the life she’d wanted, that she’d worked so hard for, was losing its sparkle. Her lyrics fell flat, her friends were all busy, her boyfriend – though a complete sweetheart – was just not right for her, and she felt like she was drowning in the star she’d become. Musa was no longer the girl who had grown up in a slummy apartment building on the wrong side of an otherwise beautiful city; she was Musa, international superstar, beloved by many. She just didn’t know how to be that person and still be herself. How could she be when every move she made, every word she said became headline news? How could she be when she couldn’t remember who she had been before her fame took over?
It kept her up some nights – most nights – this feeling of being lost, of being trapped, of never living up to what people wanted her to be. And soon enough, it became no feeling at all. Her days filled with empty, repetitive motions: go to the studio, try to write something halfway decent, overcriticize every word she wrote, give up with an empty promise that tomorrow would be better, see a boyfriend she wasn’t sure she liked anywhere near as much as he liked her, then go home and do it again the next day. She was a walking shell of someone else. Who that was, she was never too sure.
Her boyfriend was out of town. Her evenings were free to do what she wanted. She had spent most of the last week at home, staring at the TV or an empty page in another futile attempt to get some writing done. After six days of that, she decided she hated sitting at home, so she texted one of her many so-called friends – not her girls, but the ones that hung around because she was famous – and asked them to go dancing. She danced around mindlessly as she listened to them talk about her birthday next month or watched them take shots on her tab. When she walked away, they didn’t notice.
What had possessed her to do what she did next was a mystery. All she knew was that when she’d stepped outside, he was there. He was there and she needed to feel something good. He’d always been so good at making her feel good; at making her happy. That, or unbelievably angry. Both were better alternatives.
He'd seemed surprised to see her there, but he shouldn’t have been. Every gossip rag had paparazzi that had likely already spotted her and reported it. He shouldn’t have been there though. He hated clubs, always had.
They didn’t talk much. A shocked hi was said and then she’d seen her car be pulled around. She couldn’t tell if he was upset that her car had arrived to take her away, but then he’d always been good at pretending not to care. She thought he might have because when she pulled him into the car with her, he didn’t resist. And when she straddled him in the backseat and kissed him, he responded appropriately – enthusiastically.
Her driver dropped them off at her house. She pulled Riven into the house and within two minutes found herself pinned to the sitting room wall, her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands on her bare skin. For the first time in much longer than she cared to admit, Musa felt like she was on fire; like she could combust into a million tiny stars and be taken away by the wind, scattering over every inch of the night sky.
At some point, somehow, they ended up on her bed where they now lay, legs still intertwined. He was beside her, only linked by their legs, she knew that, but she swore she could still feel him. She could feel his hand running down her back, over her stomach and lower still; his breath against her shoulder as he drew himself into her; his teeth on her neck; his lips on hers; his hands in her hair, on her cheek, her hand; his stubble against her inner thigh; his eyes looking into hers; him.
Him.
Him.
Riven.
Her Riven. (He wasn’t, she reminded herself briefly.)
On her. Around her. In her.
She wanted more.
She wanted him to stay.
Wanted to feel this alive again.
Was that too much to ask of him? They’d broken up for a reason – a good one too. He wasn’t sure he could handle everything that came with her career path. It was better for them to break up while they could still be friends instead of once they resented each other. Asking him to stay would be stupid. He’d never do it.
She should say something, she realised. They’d been laying there in silence for... she didn’t actually know how long. What should she say? Thanks for the fuck, it was good? I see your dick is still functioning? Please never leave me again? Well that was fun? All terrible options that made her sound psychotic.
Musa chanced a glance at him out of the corner of her eyes. He was staring at her, completely unashamed of the way his sparkling violet eyes roamed over her face. She sat up, facing him head on. “So, what now?”
Riven sat up too. His eyes looked over her bedroom in thought, a soft smile that had her feeling like she was sixteen again gracing his lips when his eyes met hers.
“How about coffee?”
Coffee? Musa looked at the clock on her nightstand. “It’s 2 am...”
A shadow flickered in his eyes and for a moment she saw the bravado-faking, uncertain boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. She thought maybe he’d lash out like he used to, but instead he took a deep breath and spoke calmly, if not with a small quiver of doubt in his voice. “I was hoping you’d let me stay the night, but I can leave if you wa-”
“I don’t” she interjected. Musa forced herself to take a breath. “I don’t want you to leave.”
He smiled at her, and she melted. She was officially sixteen again, putty in this man’s hands, desperate for him to give her the smallest bit of affection. “So, coffee?”
Musa returned his smile. His widened, and she knew. He was eighteen again, head over heels for her and trying to figure out how to handle it, unable to get her off his mind, willing to die for her. He would stay if she wanted him to. She knew he would.
And with him around, maybe she could write a decent song again. Actually, she could already see the lyrics forming in her mind.
#winx musa#winx riven#rivusa#winx club#prompt#oneshot#is this a happy ending? i dont know#its definitely not unhappy#fanfiction#guess who's back#back again#for now
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