You rendezvous with Logan after Christmas at the X Mansion to cuddle and talk about the day's events
Word Count: 940
Warnings: Fluff, Smooches
Your bare feet treaded lightly as you descended the stairs, your hands running over the lengthy garland that was wrapped around the railing. Soft yellow lights lit your path like pixies twinkling in the night.
During the daylight hours, the halls were bustling with excited students playing with their toys. The very air buzzed with energy as swarms of little faces passed you.
Those faces… Those smiles… They had become home.
It wasn’t just the familiarity of your surroundings- knowing each room and how to get there. It was the fact that these walls protected the ones you’d come to love. Made them comfortable. Provided security for them. Helped to create a space for them to reach for their full potential.
The evening hours were a stark contrast to the holiday excitement. Quiet. Tranquil.
Most everyone that dwelled and learned there were fast asleep- tired out from the day’s activities, and yet, hopeful and anticipating what the next day would bring.
It was in that quiet time that you had the house to yourself in a way. Of course, there were times when you’d encounter another soul who couldn’t sleep or was simply enjoying the peace just as you were. With the traumas and tragic histories that those who attended the academy tended to have, it wasn’t unheard of. But it seemed tonight, everyone under that roof found themselves enjoying peaceful slumber.
You paused at the bottom of the stairs once you’d made your descent, peering around.
Well, almost everyone. There was one you expected to be awake yet.
You reached one of the common rooms, feeling your heart skip a beat when you saw him sprawled out rather comfortably on the couch as he waited for your approach, his head resting on a throw pillow as he gazed at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.
Logan’s exceptional hearing alerted him of your presence and he turned, eyebrows raised, to greet you.
“Hi,” you whispered, crossing the room as quickly as you could without your footsteps making noise. He lifted his arms invitingly, allowing you to drape yourself against his side on the couch.
“Hey,” he murmured against your hair. “What took you so long?”
“It was five minutes,” you countered playfully.
“Yeah, well, it felt like five years.” His arms encircled you, giving you a squeeze that pressed you tighter against him. You shut your eyes and drank in the steady thump-thump of Logan’s heart and the way his chest rose and fell with each deep, tired breath he took. That and his scent- a sort of teakwood mingled with notes of a warm musk- was a deadly combination that might have you falling asleep within the next ten or so minutes. Especially after the busy last few days you’d had.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, noticing how quiet you were.
“Do you think the kids had a good Christmas?” you asked. So much had gone into preparation. You’d been so busy with wrapping gifts, making preparations for the holiday meals, and organizing activities for the students that the quiet was almost unsettling. While you’d been so thrilled with your work, your mind now seemed keen on reflecting on your efforts and nitpicking every little detail that you previously hadn’t had an opportunity to address.
“You kiddin’ me?” Logan asked in disbelief. “Everyone had a blast. Students and staff included.”
“Really?” You shifted to glance up at him. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tilted his head down.
“Yeah. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Nothing major. I just noticed some of the gift wrapping wasn’t the best. The potatoes at dinner were kind of dry…” You counted the items on your fingers as you listed them aloud. Logan took hold of your hand before you could count any more, entwining his fingers with yours.
“Woah, woah, there.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring in that low voice of his, “I must’ve seen hundreds of smiles today. Too many to count. You were a big part of making that happen.”
Your heart fluttered, and he continued.
“Now, some of these things you’re talking about, I don’t think that’s the case. At least, I didn’t notice. The potatoes were good. All the gifts were wrapped with care. Not to mention shredded open before anyone could hold them under a magnifying glass and check.”
That made you chuckle, and Logan moved to kiss your cheek. “You’re right.” Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of the doubts that had attempted to plague you in the aftermath of your victory. “Thank you, Logan.”
He gazed down at you again, his dark eyes set aglow by the soft lights. “You did good. Let yourself enjoy it.”
You leaned up to press your lips against his, and Logan in turn cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss. What tension had begun to set in your muscles melted away, and you relaxed fully in his arms. Letting your head rest against his flannel shirt, you huffed in amusement.
“I’m in danger now,” you whispered.
“Hm?”
“With nothing to worry about, I am inclined to fall asleep.”
“Then sleep.” His hand began to rub up and down your back soothingly, tempting you further. “Winter break is still on tomorrow.”
Classes wouldn’t start up again until after New Year’s day, so you’d have time to recuperate.
You sighed deeply at the realization, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Alright, then. I’m convinced.” Craning your neck to sneak in one last kiss on his lips, you whispered, “merry Christmas.”
There was definitely a smile in his voice when he murmured back, “merry Christmas.”
You can't help but notice Logan is always looking out for you, and you wonder if it's because he thinks you're incapable. Little did you know there's another reason entirely.
Word Count: 2,236
Warnings: Typical X-Men Violence, Blood
Link to Part 1
Hands gripping the back of the jet seats, you exhaled loudly in a near grunt.
This was always the worst part. Waiting. Just standing there and waiting for something terrible to happen so that you could do something about it.
It’s not like you weren’t trained in combat. You could handle yourself, at least. But the fact of the matter was that your particular abilities weren’t geared for offensive attacks like the rest. As Professor Xavier told you, you gave the team quite the strategic advantage when utilized at the right moment.
In other words, it would be no good to the others if you were the one who was injured.
Fair enough.
But the waiting…
When the static came through in your earpiece, you straightened up. Hopefully, it would be news of a successful mission and that the team was on their way back to the ship.
You weren’t so lucky this time.
“I’ve been injured,” Storm’s voice spoke weakly.
“Storm, are you alright?” you asked. No response.
The realization tore through you like a jolt of lightning. “I’m on my way.” Heart pounding, you exited the jet and checked that the coast was clear. When you reached the site, it took you a moment to evaluate the situation. Fists were locked in combat. It was mutant powers galore. Metal frames were flying. You jumped when someone let a construction crane drop, causing the ground beneath you to quake.
A glimpse of white caught your attention. You backtracked in your initial scan of the scene to see Storm lying beside a chunk of busted concrete. Her head was angled awkwardly with her face turned away from you.
Your muscles coiled as you prepared to dart into the fray of things.
Scott’s voice suddenly came through. “You need to wait.” He was in the midst of the fight, gloved fingers resting on the side of his visor, ready to activate it. “Things are too chaotic at the moment. You’re at risk.”
“It looks bad,” you replied immediately. “I need to help her now.” You sprung into action, dodging a worn, yellow hunk of what looked to be plating from another construction vehicle that was launched at you. There was no time to trace the path of that shattered piece and see where it came from.
But what you did happen to see in your race to Storm’s aid was a tall form standing slightly hunched in an attack stance, muscular arms tensed, with metallic claws out and glinting in the construction lights. Logan’s dark eyes were glaring furiously past you at presumably whoever had chucked that object in your direction, the bridge of his nose crinkling in a snarl. His chest rose and fell heavily with a growl.
It was a sight that lasted only a mere second as you ran past. Storm had your full attention as you knelt down beside her unconscious form. You removed your gloves and carefully turned her head to face you, revealing a gash of glistening red.
“Storm?” you murmured. No response.
You gently rested a hand on either side of her head, closing your eyes and concentrating on your abilities. A familiar ache started in the tips of your fingers and moved up your arms. Then came a splitting headache.
Oh, her injuries were bad.
The pain in your head made you groan aloud, but it was beyond worth it to see the gash had disappeared from hers, leaving only a streak of blood behind in her halo white hair. There was no way of knowing exactly when the symptoms would fade. In the meantime, you were a sitting duck in the middle of the battlefield with your limbs weak and head in agony.
A gloved hand grasped your arm comfortingly, and you opened your eyes once more to see Storm with concern in her deep gaze. She helped you to your feet, her eyes flickering to the nearest safe place for you to hang tight while you recovered. You stumbled over to the edge of the site, hand grasping desperately at a metal frame to hold onto.
Logan was engaged in heated hand-to-hand with another opponent. Everything around him appeared a mere blur in your eyes, with the heavy duty lights casting a dusty haze over the site-turned-battlefield. Other figures of your teammates moved, but all you saw was Logan taking another swipe at his foe.
You must have not been in your right mind due to the recovery because all you could think about was him. Your eyes traveled the length of his strong arms instead of scanning for any encroaching danger to your hiding spot. It took you back to one of your last missions, when he put his arm around you, forcing you to the ground with him, to ensure you avoided a blast heading your way.
The sound of his close breathing. The rise and fall of his chest against your back. The immediate question spoken in a deep, gentle voice, “you okay?” right next to your ear. Not to mention the effortless way he set you back on your feet.
You steadied yourself, relieved that you were gaining your bearings. It was much easier to focus on the here and now with your mind cleared of the reverie. The enemy was in retreat, and the battle turned into a scramble to snatch up just one of them so they could be interrogated for information on their leader’s HQ.
There was one dragging himself along the ground, bleeding heavily from his left leg.
It was hard not to pity him, especially when you saw one of his teammates just up and leave him without remorse. He was coughing and sputtering, spraying the ground with blood droplets.
“He’s too wounded to speak now,” Jean announced, kneeling beside him. “He needs immediate care.”
“Let me,” you breathed, doing your very best to walk over without a stumble.
Logan immediately stepped in front of you, his large hand coming up to take hold of your outstretched one before it could make contact, resting his other hand on your shoulder in an attempt to stop you. It didn’t take much. You were still rather weak.
“Absolutely not.”
As much as your body wanted to cave to his touch, your mind addled from pain, you were determined as ever. And his tone left much to be desired.
“Oh, excuse me, Dad,” you snipped, meeting his gaze to show you were still no less serious. “This is why I’m here.”
“You’re here to help the X-Men,” he pointed out, staring deeply into your eyes insistently.
“I am helping the X-Men…by helping him. We won’t get anywhere with leads if he succumbs to his wounds on the way back.”
“This is the guy who just tried to off you about ten minutes ago.”
When you weren’t deterred by his addition, Logan scoffed, his hand remaining on your shoulder. Storm stepped in to offer up a less antagonistic word of caution to you.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “You still appear drained.”
Your tone matched hers, losing its edge because of her more amiable demeanor as opposed to the grouchy Wolverine’s. “Yes, I’m fine. I am back to normal already. Let me do this for the team. Please, I can’t stand watching him suffer anymore.”
All eyes were on Logan.
He released you, holding his hands up in a begrudging surrender to your wishes. You weren’t back to normal. Not really. Everyone knew it. Of course you still felt like you’d been hit by a garbage truck when you let your hand fall to the man’s neck to make contact. The ache in your limbs turned to fire, and your head was pounding again.
Ugh, it sucked. 0/10, not a good time.
You stumbled back, falling right down on your bottom in the dirt, and clutched your head.
At some point, you must’ve blacked out because you awoke aboard the X-Jet, strapped into your seat. All was quiet, save for the hum as it travelled at high speeds. Through the haze of waking from a short rest, the events already felt distant, like a dream. Unreal.
The lingering effects of your abilities had ceased, fortunately. Each breath you took was free from the splitting pain.
“Oh, look who’s up,” Logan grumbled.
“What happened?”
If looks could kill. “What do you think?”
“Okay, okay. Too much at once. I’ll try to avoid that next time,” you said, heaving a sigh. Trying to act nonchalant, you stretched a bit in your seat. “Are we almost back to the Mansion?”
“We’ve just arrived,” Cyclops replied, flipping a few switches that presumably activated the landing sequence. “When we get in, you’re going straight to the medical wing.”
“Yes, Sir.” You gave a little salute.
Logan practically escorted you the entire way, and for good measure he waited around while you got checked out. Fortunately, everything seemed to be fine at that point. As soon as you were deemed fit to leave the medical wing, Logan visibly relaxed.
It hadn’t escaped you that he only got that way when it came to your safety. Generally, he was a rather easy-going guy. Ask anyone on the team, and they’d agree that he wasn’t one to get involved in anyone’s business or make demands. He was very much a live and let live man when it came to others… Except when someone was at risk. And as of late, it seemed you were the focal point of his concerns in particular.
Naturally, you explored a series of reasons why that could be. One idea that stood out to you especially was that perhaps Wolverine’s incessant need to defend you on the battlefield stemmed from the way your abilities worked. Perhaps this made you seem quite vulnerable to him as someone fighting alongside a team of very powerful individuals that utilized their abilities during combat, rather than in the aftermath.
It hardly seemed fair. Your abilities may differ from the others, but you were quite capable of looking after yourself when it came to a fight. You knew your limits. You trained well with the rest of the team. His level of concern just didn’t seem to add up. It was a bit insulting.
“I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant a babysitter,” you commented finally as the two of you departed from the medical wing. You walked side-by-side at a rather hurried pace. “I have only ever done my part. And I’ve done it well, if I do say so myself.”
“A little too well,” he grumbled, glancing in the other direction.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m confused. Do you, or do you not, think I can handle myself on missions?”
“I know you can handle missions,” he snapped, then took a breath and lowered his voice, finally halting to turn and meet your gaze sincerely. “I know that. That’s not the issue here.”
You realized that you must have subconsciously taken a step closer because suddenly you were captivated by his dark eyes and trying very hard not to let your gaze flicker to his lips. “Then why do you act like I can’t?”
“Can’t you just accept that I care about ya’?”
That and the fact that he was now inches away from your face was enough to short-circuit your brain. You were frozen in place, unable to form a coherent thought other than how you were lost in space, and the only thing grounding you was the texture of his hair, the way his brows furrowed beautifully over his eyes, and his lips which were still parted after his confession.
“Hey, I- oh.” Scott had just turned the corner and found you, clearing his throat. “I was just on my way to check on you.”
Logan looked the other way, and you took a few steps to put some distance between the two of you.
“I’m alright. I was cleared to head out,” you told him.
“Good. I’m glad.” He gave a slow nod. “I hate to do this, but our lead says he won’t talk unless you’re there. It seems he trusts you after you helped him. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind…”
“No, I don’t mind,” you replied, though the prospect of being present for the questioning was puzzling. Was it truly just a matter of trust? Or did the lead have something more sinister in mind? Security levels made the situation beyond safe. You knew that. But still, you couldn’t shake the uneasiness that suddenly gripped you.
Glancing back at Logan, you said softly, “this discussion will have to wait.”
“I guess so,” he agreed. As you started to follow Scott down the hall, Logan called your name. You looked over your shoulder to see him giving you a knowing look, as if he had read your mind. “Mind if I come along?”
You nodded. “Sure. Scott?”
“We could use you if there’s a need for a “bad 'cop' during the interview,” Scott added. “It would probably be best if you’re there. Just in case.”
You breathed a quiet sigh of relief that only you and apparently Logan heard. He walked by your side, though neither of you uttered a word about it. Ten minutes ago you might’ve rolled your eyes at the idea of him accompanying you to this interview… But now, you were beyond glad he was.
(X-Men) Being a Professor at Xavier's Academy and Dating Logan Howlett:
Catching glimpses of each other in the halls throughout the day
Logan sees you leading a class of little ones, and immediately his whole face softens.
Sometimes you get a wink and smirk
You coordinated the breaks in your classes so you could have lunch together. If the weather's nice, you sit outside. Otherwise, an empty classroom suffices. Logan likes having little moments of alone time with you.
Covering each other's classes when the other has to go on a mission.
Volunteering to help with training simulations together. He loves seeing you in action, and of course vice versa.
Logan is very protective of you, on and off the battlefield. He fiercely defends you in dangerous situations, and it becomes a softer version around the halls of the academy.
His hand rests on the small of your back when maneuvering through the halls.
Students better hope Logan doesn't catch them giving you a hard time! He will play the role of grumpy dad to make sure they are listening to you and paying attention.
Not that you aren't already very well-respected in general, but he makes sure to take every opportunity to remind students that they should listen and you have a lot of wisdom to offer.
Being that it's a boarding school, sometimes you are a caretaker "off hours". Logan's heart melts every time he sees you comforting a young student, or just spending time with them, giving them love and attention they seek.
He loves that you care. He loves that you love.
He doesn't advertise it, but he falls into that role in his own way. It's subtle. He gives advice to students if they ask, intervenes when he sees any in distress, and all around shows he cares- though it's more on the down low.
He loves to pretend he doesn't care or get attached to students. But anyone who knows him knows better. He's quite paternal.
