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mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

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i love you, always and forever ࿐‧₊ new beginnings

chapter summary: The team finally gets a lead on Transigen.

word count: 20.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: finally! obviously, if i mention transigen, there's more than likely going to be laura with it!

sorry for posting a little later than normal, i was running errands with my mom then helped her cook dinner. (then watched andor with my dad)

(i didn't realize this chapter was also long, oops-)

warnings/tags: reader wears glasses, fluff, angst, transigen, mentions of experimentation, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, protective!logan, protective!laura

series masterlist - chapter 13 → chapter 15

“I might have to cancel my session with Bucky.” Jean said, as the team got off the Blackbird. “Might be here for a while.”

“Or it’ll just be another dead end.” Kitty retorted.

“I think we can all agree that things are better without the Avengers in the mansion.” Scott spoke, leading the team. “Don’t have to deal with Stark’s incessant ego.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Logan muttered.

After months of searching, Tony and Hank found a lead: a pharmaceutical company in Mexico City, rumored to be a front for illegal experiments conducted by Transigen. It was tenuous at first, whispers of missing kids and shipments of questionable materials, but it was enough for the team to move in.

The team split into smaller groups upon entering the facility. Logan led one group to handle security while Jean, Scott, and Ororo focused on evacuating any innocent workers or bystanders. You were paired with Kitty, tasked with finding the information room and gathering data on Transigen’s activities.

“Stay close,” Kitty said, her voice soft as the two of you crept down a sterile, dimly lit hallway. “The lab should be just up ahead.”

“I’m right behind you,” you whispered, clutching the strap of your small bag, which held the portable hard drive Hank had given you. The soft hum of machines and the faint murmur of voices in the distance made your stomach churn.

The information room was easy enough to locate, its doors marked with a keypad. Kitty phased the two of you inside effortlessly. The room was cluttered with monitors, hard drives, and endless rows of filing cabinets.

“This place screams ‘villain HQ,’” Kitty muttered, already scanning the room for anything valuable. “Get the drives. I’ll keep watch.”

You nodded, moving to one of the terminals. As you plugged in the hard drive and started copying files, your hands trembled slightly. The thought of what Transigen could be doing here was enough to make your stomach turn, but you tried to focus.

“Almost done,” you whispered after a few minutes, glancing over your shoulder at Kitty.

Her brow furrowed as she stood near the door, her head tilting slightly. “Wait here,” she said, her voice low. “I hear something. I’ll check it out.”

“Be careful,” you urged, watching as she phased through the wall and disappeared down the hall. The silence that followed was oppressive, broken only by the faint whir of the computer transferring data.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Your head snapped up, heart pounding as three armed men stormed into the room.

“Hey! What are you—” Your voice faltered as one of them grabbed your arm roughly, yanking you away from the terminal.

Panic flared, but you reacted instinctively, grabbing the nearest object—a keyboard—and smashing it against the man’s head. He stumbled back with a grunt but recovered quickly, his grip tightening as he shoved you against the wall.

“Stay still,” he barked, his voice cold.

You struggled, your breathing ragged, but you weren’t a fighter—not like the others. Just as fear began to take hold, a sharp, wet sound cut through the air, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.

Your captor released you abruptly, staggering back with a strangled gasp. In the dim light, you saw her—a small girl, no older than four, her dark eyes gleaming with a feral intensity. Two sharp claws extended from each tiny hand, coated in blood.

“Wh—” You couldn’t finish the thought as the girl moved swiftly, taking down the other two men with alarming precision. When the last one hit the ground, she stood still, her small chest rising and falling rapidly.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then her gaze shifted to you, wary but curious.

“Hey,” you said softly, raising your hands in a non-threatening gesture. Your voice trembled slightly, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl didn’t respond, her claws retracting slowly. She took a tentative step toward you, her expression guarded.

“Y/N!” Kitty’s voice came from the hall as she phased through the wall, her eyes widening at the scene. “What happened?”

“She… she saved me,” you stammered, gesturing to the girl, who was now watching Kitty with the same wary expression.

Kitty crouched slightly, her voice gentle. “Hey there, sweetie. We’re not here to hurt you, okay? Are you alone?”

The girl didn’t answer, but her posture softened just enough to suggest she wasn’t about to attack. You exchanged a glance with Kitty, your heart still racing.

“We need to get her out of here,” you said quietly. “And the others, if there are more.”

Kitty nodded, glancing at the computer. “Grab the drive. I’ll comm the team.”

You pulled the hard drive from the terminal, stuffing it into your bag. The girl’s gaze followed your every movement, and as you turned back toward her, she stepped closer, almost as if seeking reassurance.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, crouching to her level. “You’re safe now.”

Her small hand reached out, gripping the edge of your sleeve tightly. You froze, the weight of her touch grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

Ororo spoke through comms, “we got the kids. Y/N, do you have the data?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good. Everyone meet up at the Blackbird.” Scott said.

You slowly crouched down, “is it okay if I pick you up?”

The young girl stood still for a moment before slowly nodding. You picked her up, settling her on your hip. “Let’s go, Kitty.”

---

By the time you and Kitty got to the Blackbird, Scott and Ororo were already there, a group of small children on the jet. “Jean? How is it going?” Ororo asked over comms.

“Good. Getting the last nurse out.” Jean responded.

“Logan?” Ororo questioned.

“Took care of the men. On our way.”

You sat the little girl down on the bench at the back of the jet. Her small hands clenched the fabric of your sleeve before you could move away, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small. You paused, crouching to her level again.

“It’s okay,” you said gently, meeting her eyes. They were dark and intense, scanning your face like she was trying to decide if she could trust you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her grip loosened slightly but didn’t let go entirely. Kitty stepped closer, keeping her voice soft. “Y/N, is she hurt? Did you check her?”

You glanced back at Kitty, shaking your head. “She doesn’t seem hurt. I think she’s just… scared.” Turning back to the girl, you spoke softly, “are you hurt? Do you need anything?”

The girl remained silent, her gaze shifting between you and Kitty. She shook her head once, almost imperceptibly.

“Hey,” Logan’s voice cut through the quiet as he stepped onto the jet. He was covered in blood and dirt, his knuckles raw, but his expression softened when he saw you crouched beside the girl. “What’s goin’ on?”

“We found her in the lab,” Kitty explained, stepping aside to let Logan approach. “She saved Y/N. Took out three guys all on her own.”

Logan’s eyes flicked to the girl, who stiffened under his scrutiny but didn’t look away. “That so?” he said, his tone gentler than you’d expected. He crouched beside you, his larger frame somehow non-threatening as he looked at her. “You’re a tough one, huh?”

The girl didn’t respond, but her small hand tightened on your sleeve again. You glanced at Logan, unsure what to say.

“She hasn’t said anything,” you explained softly. “I don’t think she trusts us yet.”

Logan nodded, his eyes still on her. “That’s okay. She’s been through hell—probably doesn’t know who’s safe.” His gaze flicked to you, his expression unreadable. “She seems to trust you, though.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, unsure how to respond. “I think she’s just scared,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t think she’s used to… this.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, studying the girl. “She’ll come around.” His voice dropped, meant only for you. “You’ve got a way with people, darlin’. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

Before you could respond, Scott’s voice carried from the front of the jet. “Everyone’s onboard. Let’s move!”

“Hang tight,” Logan said to the girl before straightening. He glanced at you one more time before heading to the cockpit.

You turned back to the girl, still crouched at her level. “We’re going to a safe place now,” you said softly. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

She looked at you for a long moment before finally nodding, her grip on your sleeve loosening but not letting go entirely. You sat beside her on the bench, letting her hold on as the jet lifted into the air. Kitty took the seat across from you, her gaze flicking between the girl and you.

“You’re good with kids,” Kitty said quietly, offering a small smile.

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know about that. She just… needs someone right now.”

“Well, she’s lucky you were there.” Kitty leaned back, her expression softening. “She wouldn’t even let me get close.”

You glanced at the girl, who was now leaning slightly against your side. Her tiny frame felt so fragile, yet you’d seen her take down three grown men with ease. The thought sent a shiver through you. What had they done to her in that lab?

Logan’s voice came over the comms. “We’ll be back at the mansion in a couple hours. Hank, make sure the med bay’s ready.”

Hank’s reply crackled through. “Already on it. I’ll meet you there.”

As the jet settled into its flight path, you leaned your head back against the wall, your thoughts swirling. The girl shifted closer, resting her head against your arm. You glanced down at her, your chest tightening at the sight.

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

For the first time, she seemed to relax, her small body leaning into yours completely. You stayed like that, holding her close as the jet carried you all home.

---

The team was going through the files, trying to find out who each kid was when you realized something. In the files, every kid had a ‘Source DNA’ section. When you got to the young girl’s file—Laura’s—you saw something.

Source DNA: James Howlett

You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat. James Howlett. Logan. The realization hit like a weight pressing on your chest, and for a moment, the sounds of the bustling mansion around you faded.

“Y/N?” Jean’s voice brought you back, her hand gently resting on your shoulder. “What is it?”

You turned to her, unsure how to put it into words. “This girl—Laura. Her DNA… it’s Logan’s.”

Jean’s brows knitted in confusion before her eyes widened in understanding. “You’re sure?”

You nodded, pointing at the section of the file displayed on the screen. “It’s right here. ‘Source DNA: James Howlett.’ They… they used him to create her.”

Jean leaned closer, reading over the lines with a growing sense of dread. “She’s his daughter. Or… a clone, maybe. Either way, she’s connected to him.”

“She’s just a kid, Jean,” you whispered, glancing toward the med bay where the children, including Laura, were being examined. “And after everything she’s been through—”

“Does Logan know?” Jean asked, cutting you off gently.

“No. Not yet.”

Jean hesitated, her gaze searching yours. “Are you going to tell him?”

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped short. The truth was, you weren’t sure how to approach Logan with this. He’d been through enough already. Adding something like this…

“I will,” you said finally, though the thought made your stomach twist. “I just need to figure out how.”

Jean gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N. I’ll help however I can.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, your thoughts already swirling with how Logan might react.

---

The medbay was quiet when you walked in, the soft beeping of monitors filling the space. Logan stood off to the side, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on Laura, who sat perched on one of the examination tables. She was hunched forward, her small hands clutching a blanket someone had draped over her shoulders.

She’d been like that since you returned to the mansion, sticking close to you whenever possible and barely speaking a word to anyone. You didn’t blame her—whatever had been done to her in that lab would take time to heal, physically and emotionally.

Logan’s eyes flicked to you as you approached, his expression unreadable. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, his voice low.

You glanced at Laura, then back at Logan. “Can we talk? Somewhere private?”

His brow furrowed, but he nodded, following you out into the hallway. Once the door closed behind you, he turned to face you, his arms still crossed. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Logan… I found something in the files we recovered.”

His jaw tightened. “What kind of somethin’?”

“It’s about Laura.”

At the mention of her name, his posture stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What about her?”

You hesitated, unsure how to phrase it without overwhelming him. “They used your DNA to create her. She’s… she’s your daughter, Logan. Or as close to one as she can be.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, the weight of your words sinking in. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You reached into your bag, pulling out a printed copy of the relevant section of Laura’s file and handing it to him. “It’s all here. She was part of their experiments—Transigen used your DNA as the base for hers.”

Logan scanned the page, his grip tightening as he read. His breathing grew heavier, his shoulders rising and falling with each exhale. “They… they did this to her? To me?”

“Logan,” you said softly, stepping closer. “She’s been through so much already, but she’s here now. She’s safe. And she’s looking to you, whether she realizes it or not.”

He let the paper fall to his side, his eyes distant. “She’s just a kid,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A kid who didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No, she didn’t,” you agreed. “But she’s here now. And she needs someone she can trust.”

Logan’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, you saw the conflict in his eyes—the fear, the anger, and something softer, something that made your chest ache.

“What the hell am I supposed to do, Y/N?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his tone. Logan was always the rock—the one who took the hits and kept standing. Seeing him this unsure, this raw, was rare. You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

“She doesn’t need you to have all the answers right now, Logan,” you said softly. “She just needs to know she’s safe, that someone’s there for her. That someone cares.”

He let out a heavy breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. “What if I mess this up? What if I can’t be what she needs?”

“You won’t mess this up,” you reassured him, squeezing his arm. “You’ve always been good at protecting the people you care about. And she’s already looking to you—even if she doesn’t know it yet. You just have to show her she’s not alone.”

Logan looked away, his jaw clenching. “She’s been through hell, Y/N. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Start small,” you suggested. “Be present. Talk to her, even if she doesn’t talk back. Let her see that you’re not going anywhere.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is… it’s a lot.”

“I know,” you said gently. “But you’re not in this alone. I’ll be here to help, and so will the rest of the team. You don’t have to do this by yourself.”

Logan looked back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “Thanks, darlin’. I mean it.”

You gave him a small smile. “She’s waiting for you. Go sit with her for a bit. Even if you don’t say much, it’ll mean a lot to her.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. Without another word, he turned and walked back into the med bay.

You watched him go, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. You knew this wouldn’t be easy for him—or for Laura—but if anyone could handle this, it was Logan. He’d faced more than his share of battles, and this one, though different, was just as important.

---

Later that day, after Rogue and Jubilee finished setting up rooms for the kids, you walked Laura to hers. She stayed close to your side, her small hand gripping the hem of your sleeve. The quiet of the hallway felt heavy, but you didn’t push her to speak. She wasn’t ready, and you understood that.

“This is your room,” you said softly, opening the door to a cozy space with a twin bed, a small desk, and a chair by the window. Jubilee had left a few stuffed animals on the bed, hoping to make it feel less clinical.

Laura stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room like she was assessing it for threats. She still hadn’t let go of your sleeve.

“It’s just you in here,” you said, crouching to her level. “No one will bother you unless you want them to. You’re safe.”

She glanced at you, her dark eyes searching your face. The intensity of her gaze always caught you off guard—there was so much there for someone so young.

“You can stay here for as long as you want,” you continued, your voice gentle. “No one’s going to make you leave.”

Laura finally let go of your sleeve but didn’t step away. Instead, she reached out and tugged lightly at the edge of your glasses, her expression softening with curiosity.

“Careful,” you said with a small smile. “I kind of need those to see.”

Her lips twitched, just a hint of a smile, but she said nothing.

“Do you want me to stay for a bit?” you asked, tilting your head.

She nodded quickly, her grip shifting to your hand this time.

“Okay,” you said, letting her lead you to the bed. She climbed onto it, sitting cross-legged, while you settled beside her.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, the soft hum of the mansion filling the quiet. Laura reached for one of the stuffed animals—a small, floppy bunny—and turned it over in her hands like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“You can keep it,” you said. “Or any of the others. They’re yours now.”

She hesitated before hugging the rabbit to her chest.

“You know,” you started, keeping your tone light, “when I first came here, I was scared too. It felt like… too much all at once. But then I realized everyone here wanted to help me. No one’s going to hurt you here, Laura. I promise.”

Her gaze flicked to you at the sound of her name, but she didn’t speak. You didn’t mind. This kind of trust took time, and you’d give her as much of it as she needed.

---

Over the next few days, Laura continued to follow you around with the new addition of the stuffed grey bunny in her arms.

You picked Laura up and set her on the stool at the kitchen island, grabbing a bowl, a box of cereal, and the gallon of milk. After pouring her a generous serving of cereal and adding just the right amount of milk, you slid the bowl across the island to her. Laura hesitated for a moment, her dark eyes darting between you and the bowl, before reaching out to pull it closer. The grey bunny she’d been carrying for days was perched protectively on her lap, its floppy ears tucked neatly under her arm.

“You’re getting the hang of this place,” you said lightly, leaning against the counter as you watched her. “Cereal’s a favorite around here. Easy, no cooking required. Even Logan eats it sometimes.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her eyes flickered up to you briefly before she dipped her spoon into the bowl.

You let the silence linger, knowing she wasn’t ready to talk yet. That was okay. Her comfort mattered more than filling the quiet. She’d been through so much, and pushing her to open up too soon would only make things harder for her.

The sound of footsteps drew your attention, and Logan entered the kitchen, his gaze immediately landing on Laura. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging her presence, before looking at you. “She eatin’?” he asked, his voice low.

You nodded. “She’s doing okay.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, his eyes lingering on Laura as she carefully scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. He looked out of place in the brightly lit kitchen, his rugged demeanor a sharp contrast to the homey atmosphere. But when his gaze softened just a fraction as he watched Laura, something in your chest tightened.

“She’s stickin’ close to you,” he murmured, stepping closer so only you could hear.

“She feels safe,” you replied, keeping your voice equally quiet. “It’s not surprising after what she’s been through.”

Logan grunted, a sound that could’ve meant anything, but his eyes didn’t leave Laura. “She always hold onto that thing?” He nodded toward the bunny in Laura’s lap.

“Everywhere she goes,” you said with a small smile. “Jubilee left it on her bed the first night. It’s hers now.”

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the counter beside you. “She talk to you yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet. But she’ll get there. It’s only been a few days. She’s still figuring out who to trust.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he looked down at his boots. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” you said firmly, nudging his arm with your elbow. “She’s already trusting you more than you realize. She watches you, Logan. When you’re in the room, her eyes are on you. She might not say it, but she sees you.”

His gaze flicked to you, a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek before stepping away to make your tea. Logan stayed where he was, arms crossed, watching you move about the kitchen.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice gruff, “it doesn’t get easier, lettin’ people in. Never has for me.”

You stirred honey into your tea, the soft clink of the spoon the only sound for a moment. “You don’t have to figure it all out at once, Logan. She’s just a kid. She doesn’t need perfect—just someone who’s there.”

He sighed heavily and leaned against the counter, his fingers drumming against the edge. “Yeah, well, ‘there’ ain’t somethin’ I’ve always been good at.”

You turned to face him, cradling the warm mug in your hands. “But you are now. You’re here, Logan. That’s what matters.”

---

“Do you mind if I do some tests, Laura?” Jean asked. “I just need a few blood samples and a quick scan. Is that okay?”

Laura didn’t move for a moment before nodding, her eyes shifting toward you where you stood at the far side of the med bay. Her grip on the bunny in her lap tightened as she glanced between you and Jean, her expression unchanging but her intent clear.

You hesitated, understanding immediately what she wanted. She didn’t say a word, but you could feel the unspoken plea in her gaze.

“Hang on,” you said softly, stepping closer. Jean glanced at you with a knowing look as you moved to Laura’s side.

“You want me to stay here with you?” you asked gently, crouching so you were at her eye level. Laura gave a small nod, her dark hair falling into her face as she held the stuffed bunny closer to her chest.

“Okay,” you said, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll stay.”

Jean set down the tablet she was holding, her tone calm and steady. “That’s perfectly fine, Laura. Y/N can stay with you while we run a couple of tests. I’ll be quick, and you won’t feel much.”

You pulled up a chair next to the exam table, close enough for Laura to feel your presence but giving her space. She kept her eyes on you, her small hand reaching out to lightly touch the sleeve of your shirt. You placed your hand over hers briefly, giving it a light squeeze before letting go.

“You’re really brave, you know,” you said quietly as Jean prepared the equipment. “This is just a little check-up, and then we’ll be done. You’re doing great.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her grip on the bunny relaxed slightly.

Jean’s voice was gentle as she approached with a syringe. “Laura, I’m just going to take a tiny bit of blood from your arm. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Laura stiffened at the sight of the needle, her knuckles whitening as she clutched the stuffed bunny.

“Hey,” you said softly, leaning closer to her. “Look at me, not the needle, okay?”

Her eyes darted back to yours, and you gave her an encouraging smile. “That’s it. Just focus on me. We’ll be done before you know it.”

Jean worked quickly and efficiently, the needle in and out of Laura’s arm within seconds. “All done,” she said, capping the syringe and stepping back. “You did great.”

Laura didn’t look away from you until Jean had moved the equipment aside. Her body relaxed by fractions, though she still stayed close, her expression guarded.

“See?” you said with a warm smile. “Told you it’d be quick.”

Jean knelt beside her, a gentle look on her face. “Laura, I’m going to do a quick scan of your vitals now. It’s just a machine—it won’t hurt at all. Is that okay?”

Laura hesitated, then nodded slightly, her eyes flicking to you again.

“I’ll stay right here,” you assured her.

The scanner emitted a low hum as Jean moved it over Laura’s body, checking for injuries or abnormalities. Laura stayed perfectly still, her trust placed solely in you to keep her grounded.

When Jean finished, she offered a smile. “You’re all set, Laura. You’re perfectly healthy, just like I thought.”

Laura didn’t react immediately, but she turned slightly to face you, her hand still brushing the fabric of your sleeve.

“You did amazing,” you said softly. “I’m proud of you.”

Jean rose to her feet, giving you both a gentle smile. “I’ll give you two some space. If you need me, I’ll be just outside.”

Once the door clicked shut, you turned back to Laura. “See? Nothing to it.”

Laura tilted her head, her expression unreadable as she studied you. Finally, she moved the bunny onto her lap and tugged at the edge of your glasses again.

“You like messing with these, huh?” you said, adjusting them back into place with a small laugh. “I don’t know if they suit me, but I can’t see much without them.”

Her lips twitched—just the faintest hint of a smile—as she dropped her hand.

As Jean walked out of the room, she found Logan leaning against the wall just outside, his arms crossed and his expression neutral—though there was a flicker of concern in his eyes. He straightened slightly as she approached.

“How’d it go?” he asked, his voice gruff but quieter than usual.

Jean glanced back toward the med bay door before answering. “She did great. A little nervous, but Y/N stayed with her the whole time. Helped keep her calm.”

Logan nodded, his gaze shifting toward the closed door. “She say anything?”

Jean shook her head. “Not yet. But it’s not surprising, considering what she’s been through. It’ll take time.”

Logan let out a low grunt, running a hand over his face. “She’s got good instincts, though. Trusts Y/N already.”

Jean smiled faintly. “Can’t blame her for that. Y/N has a way of making people feel safe.” Her tone softened as she added, “She’s good with the kids. Always has been.”

Logan’s lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile, but the weight of the situation held it back. “Yeah. She’s got a gift for it.”

Jean studied him for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly. “How are you holding up with all of this? I know it’s a lot, Logan.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Ain’t about me. It’s about makin’ sure these kids are okay.”

Jean nodded, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. “Well, if you need to talk—”

“I’m fine,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Just want to make sure Laura’s got what she needs.”

Jean held up her hands in a placating gesture. “Fair enough. I’ll let you know if I learn anything else. For now, she’s physically fine, which is a relief.”

Logan gave a curt nod, his attention drifting back to the med bay door. After a beat, he pushed off the wall. “Think I’ll check in on ‘em.”

Jean stepped aside, watching him with a knowing look as he walked into the room.

Inside, you were still seated next to Laura, who now had her bunny balanced carefully on her knees. She didn’t look up immediately when Logan entered, but her posture stiffened slightly, and her eyes darted toward the door.

“You doin’ okay, darlin’?” Logan asked, his tone softer than usual as he directed the question at you.

You glanced over your shoulder at him, offering a small smile. “Yeah, we’re good. Jean finished up, and Laura was a champ.” Turning back to the girl, you added, “Weren’t you?”

Laura didn’t respond verbally, but her grip on the bunny eased just a little.

Logan moved closer, crouching down so he was at eye level with her. “Y’know,” he said, his voice low and steady, “I’ve seen a lot of tough people in my time. You’re up there with the best of ‘em.”

Laura’s eyes flicked to his face, studying him for a moment before her focus returned to the bunny.

Logan didn’t push, instead glancing at you. “She give you any trouble?”

You shook your head. “None at all. She just needed a little reassurance. Right, Laura?”

The girl hesitated before giving the faintest nod.

Logan’s gaze softened, though he didn’t say anything. After a moment, he reached out, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the table. “You let me or Y/N know if you need anything, alright? You’re not alone anymore.”

Laura’s eyes lingered on him briefly before shifting back to you. She seemed to take comfort in your presence, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction more.

“She’s already made a lot of progress,” you said quietly, looking at Logan. “It’s just going to take time.”

Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving Laura. “Yeah. Time.” He straightened up, resting a hand on your shoulder briefly before stepping back. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

As he left, Laura reached out again, tugging lightly at the sleeve of your shirt. You turned back to her, giving her a warm smile. “You’re doing so well, Laura. One step at a time, okay?”

She didn’t say anything, but for the first time, she didn’t look away. Instead, she leaned ever so slightly toward you, the bunny still cradled in her lap.

---

During the night, while Logan lay on his side of the bed with you tucked against him, the quiet creak of the bedroom door broke the silence. Logan’s senses pricked immediately. He shifted slightly, his eyes opening just enough to spot a small figure in the dim light. Laura.

She padded softly toward your side of the bed, her stuffed bunny clutched tightly in one hand. She paused near you, standing still for a long moment as if debating what to do. Normally, you would’ve stirred by now—your light sleeping had made you the first to notice her during previous nights. But tonight, you were sound asleep, your steady breathing undisturbed.

Laura hesitated, taking a small step back as if deciding to leave. Logan’s low, gravelly voice broke the quiet, gentle but firm enough to catch her attention.

“You wanna come over here, kid?”

Laura froze, her eyes flicking toward him. For a moment, she didn’t move, her expression unreadable in the dim light. Logan stayed where he was, his tone soft but not insistent. “It’s alright. You can come here if you want.”

After a long pause, Laura nodded just slightly, the movement almost imperceptible. Slowly, she made her way around the bed to his side. Logan sat up slightly, offering her his hand. “C’mere,” he said, his voice steady.

She hesitated again before taking his hand. Logan helped her climb up onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate. Laura settled beside him, her stuffed bunny still clutched tightly. She didn’t say anything, but her posture was tense, her small body rigid as she perched near him.

Logan glanced at her, his rough exterior softening in a way he reserved for only a select few. “Nightmare?” he asked quietly.

Laura nodded, her grip on the bunny tightening. Logan didn’t press for details; he simply shifted slightly, giving her space but staying close enough to offer reassurance. After a moment, Laura leaned against him cautiously, her small frame relaxing just a fraction.

The two of them sat in silence, the room dim and still. Logan rested a hand lightly on the bed near her, careful not to overwhelm her. After some time, the tension in Laura’s body eased further, and she leaned into him fully, her head resting against his chest. Logan’s arm settled around her, his movements slow and unhurried, as if afraid to spook her.

Gradually, Laura’s breathing evened out, and she drifted into sleep. Logan stayed awake for a while longer, his hand resting protectively on her back as he listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing.

---

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the warmth beside you. Turning over with a sleepy yawn, you were met with a sight that made your heart ache in the best way.

Laura was curled up against Logan, her small body tucked securely against his chest. Her bunny was still clutched in one hand, and Logan’s arm was draped loosely around her, holding her close. Both of them were sound asleep, their breathing synchronized.

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love and tenderness. For a moment, you simply watched them, unwilling to disturb the quiet peace of the moment.

Finally, you reached out gently, brushing a hand over Logan’s arm. His eyes opened slowly, his gaze immediately meeting yours. He gave you a small, tired smile before glancing down at Laura, still nestled against him.

“She had a nightmare,” he murmured, his voice low to avoid waking her.

You nodded, your voice just as soft. “And she came to find us.”

Logan’s lips twitched slightly. “Yeah. Guess she’s startin’ to trust us.”

“She already trusts you,” you said warmly, your eyes lingering on the two of them. “That’s obvious.”

Logan didn’t respond, but the faintest hint of emotion flickered across his face. He glanced down at Laura again, his hand gently brushing over her hair in a protective gesture.

“She’s just a kid,” he said quietly after a moment, his voice heavy with unspoken thoughts.

You placed a hand over his, giving it a light squeeze. “She’s safe with us, Logan. She’ll figure that out in time.”

He nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Yeah. She will.”

---

While the team fought in the Danger Room, you took up your usual spot observing from the deck, keeping an eye on the controls.

Laura was with you, sitting on your lap with her stuffed bunny as you observed the Danger Room training session from the control deck. Her small hands gripped the bunny tightly as her eyes followed the action below, her focus intense. Despite how quiet she was, you could feel how closely she was watching everything—soaking in the details of every move the team made.

“Pretty cool, huh?” you said softly, glancing down at her. Laura didn’t respond, but her grip on the bunny loosened a bit as her dark eyes flicked up to yours for a brief moment.

You leaned back slightly in the chair, your hand resting on the edge of the console. “This is where we train to use our abilities,” you explained, gesturing toward the simulated battle below. “It helps keep everyone safe out there in the real world.”

Laura’s gaze drifted to your hand and then back to the training floor. She fidgeted slightly, her brow furrowing, before her hand tugged lightly at the fabric of your sleeve.

“What’s up?” you asked gently, tilting your head to look at her.

She hesitated for a long moment, clutching her bunny to her chest before reaching out tentatively. She pointed at the scene below, where Scott and Storm were sparring, then back at you. Her silent question hung in the air: what about you?

You smiled softly, understanding what she was trying to ask. “Me?” you said, tapping your chest lightly. “I’ve got abilities too.”

Laura shifted on your lap, watching you closely now. Her intensity was unwavering, and it was clear she wanted you to explain.

“Well,” you began, keeping your tone light but sincere, “I can control time. Kind of like pressing pause or rewind on a movie—except it’s real life.” You held up a hand, flexing your fingers slowly. “I don’t use it much unless I really need to. It’s not the kind of thing you show off unless it’s important.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to piece together what that meant. Her small fingers toyed with the ear of her stuffed bunny as she continued to stare.

“Here,” you said softly, leaning forward. “I can show you something small. Just watch.”

You reached for the pen on the console in front of you and gave it a light push, letting it roll toward the edge. Before it could fall, you lifted your hand subtly, pausing time just long enough to stop its descent mid-air. Laura’s sharp eyes widened as she noticed the pen floating in place. With a small wave of your hand, time resumed, and the pen clattered onto the floor.

She turned her gaze back to you, her expression still guarded but undeniably curious.

“See? Nothing too flashy, but it’s handy,” you said with a warm smile. “I promise I’ll teach you all about it someday if you want.”

Laura blinked, tilting her head as though considering your words. Then she did something that caught you off guard—she leaned forward slightly and tugged the fabric of your sleeve closer, resting her head briefly against your arm before pulling back. It wasn’t much, but you could feel the quiet trust forming between the two of you.

You placed a hand lightly on her back. “You’re safe here,” you said softly. “You’re part of our family now.”

Her lips pressed into a firm line, but she didn’t pull away from your touch. If anything, she seemed to lean just a little closer.

Below, Logan stepped off the mat after wrapping up his turn in the Danger Room, his eyes immediately finding yours up on the observation deck. He gave a small nod, the corners of his mouth twitching in what might’ve been a smile. You waved slightly, letting him know everything was fine.

Laura turned her head slightly, catching the exchange, but she didn’t react. Instead, she leaned back against your chest, the bunny tucked securely in her arms.

“You’re doing great, Laura,” you murmured, keeping your voice low and reassuring. “One step at a time, right?”

She didn’t reply, but the faintest hint of a smile flickered on her face. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. And for now, that was more than enough.

---

You decided to grade papers in your classroom over your office, giving Laura the ability to look at and mess around with things around the room, like right now with your laser pointer.

Rogue and Jubilee were in your classroom as well, though they weren’t your students anymore they sometimes came by to check in or hang out.

Laura pointed the laser at Jubilee, the red dot landing squarely on her hand as the younger mutant gestured animatedly. Jubilee paused mid-sentence, her eyes catching the red dot. With a dramatic gasp, she looked up at Laura, who sat perched on your lap, her face as impassive as ever.

"Is that... a laser pointer?" Jubilee asked, grinning as she held up her hand to ‘catch’ the dot. She waved her fingers back and forth, moving it like a cat trying to catch a toy.

You glanced down at Laura, whose small hand gripped the pointer tightly. Her dark eyes flicked from Jubilee’s hand to her face, her expression unreadable. A faint twitch of her lips might’ve been amusement—or just concentration.

“Laura,” you said softly, an affectionate lilt in your voice, “are you messing with Jubilee?”

Laura glanced at you briefly before pointing the laser at Rogue instead, the red dot landing on her shoulder. Rogue turned her head, furrowing her brow as she noticed.

“What the—?” Rogue swatted at the dot, looking up toward you with a raised eyebrow. “Y/N, is this your doing?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not me. Looks like Laura’s having some fun.”

Rogue chuckled softly, folding her arms as she leaned against the edge of your desk. “Well, she’s got good aim. Better than most adults I know.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, as if acknowledging the compliment, before turning off the laser and tucking it into her pocket. Her eyes shifted between Rogue and Jubilee, lingering on them with quiet curiosity.

“She’s sizing us up,” Jubilee teased, wiggling her fingers dramatically at Laura. “What’re you thinking, kid? Who’s cooler—me or Rogue?”

“Not a fair competition,” Rogue said with a playful smirk. “We all know I’d win.”

Laura didn’t respond, her gaze darting between the two women. Then, she tugged gently at your sleeve, her silent signal that she wanted your attention.

“What’s up?” you asked, leaning slightly to meet her gaze.

Laura pointed at Rogue, her finger steady as she tapped the air. Then she pointed at Jubilee. Her expression was serious, her question clear even without words: what are their powers?

You smiled at her perceptiveness, then looked up at the two women. “She wants to know about your abilities.”

Jubilee’s face lit up. “Oh, now this is my kind of conversation.” She raised her hands, conjuring a burst of multicolored sparks that crackled and popped like tiny fireworks. “I make things go boom. Pretty cool, huh?”

Laura’s eyes widened slightly, her interest unmistakable. She leaned forward just a touch, watching the sparks fizzle out in Jubilee’s hands.

Rogue smiled softly, lowering her gloves to reveal her bare hands. “Mine’s a little different,” she said, her tone gentler. “When I touch someone, I absorb their powers, memories—everything. It’s a lot, but it’s helped me save a life or two.”

Laura’s gaze lingered on Rogue’s hands before shifting back to her face. She tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly as if processing this new information.

“She’s just curious,” you said, running a hand lightly over Laura’s back. “She’s still getting used to all of this.”

“Totally understandable,” Jubilee said, leaning against the desk. “It’s a lot for anyone, let alone a kid.”

Rogue nodded. “She’s got instincts, though. You can tell she’s sharp.”

Laura’s hand moved to the laser pointer in her pocket again, her fingers brushing over it absentmindedly. You could feel the faint tension in her body, the way she stayed close to you, as if you were her anchor in this unfamiliar environment.

Jubilee crouched slightly, her tone warm and playful. “Hey, Laura. If you ever wanna learn how to make stuff explode, let me know. I’ve got the best fireworks tutorial in the mansion.”

Laura’s lips twitched—just barely—but she didn’t pull away or retreat, which was progress in itself. You gave her a reassuring squeeze, your heart swelling with quiet pride at how far she’d come in such a short time.

---

Laura was good at cards. One night, while the team gathered around in the common room, Rogue asked Laura if she would like Remy to teach her how to play cards. Logan resisted but gave in when Laura willingly left your side to sit by Rogue as Remy taught her.

Laura sat cross-legged on the floor, her small figure hunched over the deck of cards as Remy dealt another round. The room hummed with conversation, laughter, and the occasional clink of mugs, but Laura seemed entirely focused on the game. Her dark eyes scanned the cards in her hand, her face giving nothing away.

You watched from the couch, glasses perched on your nose as you graded a stack of physics tests. Logan sat beside you, his arm draped across the back of the couch, his attention split between Laura and the hockey game playing on the TV.

“She’s got him sweatin’,” Logan muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

You glanced over, catching the way Remy’s usually confident demeanor had shifted. He leaned forward slightly, shuffling the cards in his hand as he studied Laura with newfound caution. Rogue stood nearby, arms crossed, watching the game with a soft, amused smile.

“Alright, petite,” Remy said, tapping his cards on the table. “Let’s see what you got.”

Laura set her cards down with deliberate precision, revealing a winning hand. A small murmur of approval rippled through the room as she calmly collected the pile of coins and trinkets in the center of the table—among them, Remy’s fancy pen and his lucky die.

“Mon dieu,” Remy muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This one’s ruthless.”

“She’s just playin’ smart,” Rogue teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “Don’t get all huffy just ‘cause a kid’s got the better of you.”

Logan chuckled under his breath, leaning back. “She’s got instincts. You should’ve seen her figure out poker a few weeks ago. Took Jubilee’s snacks, too.”

You couldn’t help but smile, setting your pen down for a moment. Laura’s serious expression hadn’t changed, but you could see the faintest glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes as she added her winnings to a small pile beside her.

“Alright, that’s it,” Remy said, holding up his hands. “I’m out before I lose my coat. Ain’t no beatin’ you, petite.”

Laura glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable as she shifted the cards into a neat pile. She looked over at Rogue, then at you, as if gauging her next move.

“Nice haul,” you said, your tone warm and encouraging. “You’re really good at this.”

She looked at you for a moment, then nodded, the faintest hint of pride in her posture as she pocketed the pen and die. You felt Logan’s hand squeeze your shoulder gently, his way of silently sharing the moment with you.

Rogue crouched down beside Laura, her tone light. “You gonna go easy on me if I play a round with you, or you takin’ me for everything I’ve got, too?”

Laura tilted her head slightly, considering, before holding out the deck of cards toward Rogue. It wasn’t a verbal answer, but it was as close to an invitation as anyone could get.

“She’s got the hang of this place,” Logan murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Good thing, too. She’s tough, but it’s nice seein’ her relax some.”

You glanced at him, your heart warming at the rare softness in his tone. “She’s not just tough,” you replied quietly, watching as Laura dealt the cards with practiced efficiency. “She’s brilliant. Just needs time to find her rhythm.”

Logan leaned in slightly, brushing a kiss against your temple. “She’ll get there. She’s got you, after all.”

Before you could respond, Jubilee’s voice cut through the room, dramatic as ever. “Alright, who’s ready for movie night? We’re watching Spaceballs and there’s popcorn in the kitchen!”

Logan groaned, but there was no real complaint in it. “Again? Don’t you kids know any other movies?”

“It’s a classic, Logan!” Jubilee countered, grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing a piece his way. “You just don’t appreciate art.”

Laura, seemingly disinterested in the commotion, finished dealing the cards for Rogue, then looked back toward you. You smiled at her, your expression full of encouragement. She stayed where she was, content to be in her little circle for now, but you noticed her eyes linger on you for just a moment longer than usual.

---

Logan stood outside, leaning against the wall as he watched you show Laura the different trees in the yard, while the other kids ran about playing games or just relaxing under the shade.

Ororo and Jean both came over to him, one of them standing on each side of Logan. Jean spoke first, “you’re jealous.” She teased.

Logan didn’t look over at her, “I’m not jealous.”

Ororo hummed, “oh, yeah? Is that why you got all pouty when Y/N took Laura to the mall the other day and didn’t invite you?”

Logan scowled but didn’t look away from the scene in front of him. You were crouched next to a tree, pointing at something on the bark while Laura stood beside you, her head tilted in curiosity. The other kids were scattered around the yard, laughing and playing, but Laura stayed close to you, her small frame almost rigid.

“I didn’t pout,” Logan muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jean grinned, leaning her shoulder into him. “You totally pouted. You didn’t even talk to anyone during dinner that night.”

“That’s just Logan,” Ororo teased. “Quiet brooding is his default.”

Logan shot them both a look. “I don’t brood.”

Jean smirked. “Whatever you say, Logan.”

The three of them stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching as you moved to another tree with Laura trailing behind. Her little hand brushed against yours, and you instinctively reached down, linking your fingers loosely with hers. Logan’s expression softened, though he didn’t realize it.

“She’s attached to Y/N,” Ororo said softly, her gaze warm. “It’s sweet.”

“She’s attached ‘cause Y/N gets her,” Logan replied, his voice quieter than usual. “Knows when to give her space and when to be close. Most people don’t figure that out with Laura.”

Jean tilted her head, studying Logan’s face. “And you? You okay with sharing Y/N?”

Logan frowned, but there was no real bite in it. “Ain’t about sharing. It’s about what’s best for Laura. Kid’s been through hell. If this helps her feel... safe, then I’m all for it.”

Jean exchanged a quick glance with Ororo, both of them smiling knowingly. “You’re a softie, Logan,” Jean teased.

“Don’t push it,” Logan grumbled, though his tone lacked any real edge.

Meanwhile, you crouched down again, pointing at a patch of moss growing at the base of a tree. Laura crouched beside you, mimicking your posture. Her dark eyes flickered between your face and the moss, her attention unwavering.

“See how it’s growing on this side?” you asked gently, keeping your voice low. “That’s because it gets more shade over here. Plants like this need to stay cool and moist to grow.”

Laura nodded slowly, reaching out to touch the moss with a tentative finger. You smiled, glancing over your shoulder toward the mansion. Your eyes met Logan’s for a brief second, and he gave you a small nod. It wasn’t much, but it carried a lot: approval, gratitude, and maybe something a little softer.

Ororo elbowed him lightly. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.”

Jean laughed. “You totally are. And it’s adorable.”

Logan groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “You two gonna keep yappin’ or let me enjoy some peace and quiet?”

“Peace and quiet?” Ororo echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Logan, you’re literally surrounded by kids.”

Before he could retort, Laura stood up and turned to look at him. She didn’t say anything—she never did—but her gaze was steady, almost challenging. After a beat, she reached out and tugged at your sleeve, silently signaling she wanted to go inside.

You stood up, brushing dirt off your hands. “Ready to head back?”

Laura nodded once, her grip on your sleeve tightening slightly. You gave her a reassuring smile, then looked back at Logan. “We’re going in. Coming with?”

He shrugged, pushing off the wall. “Yeah, why not?”

Jean and Ororo exchanged amused looks as Logan followed you and Laura inside. When the door closed behind you, Ororo shook her head with a grin. “He’s a goner.”

Jean laughed. “Completely.”

---

As you and Laura walked down the main stairway, a knock from the front door reverberated through the mansion. Laura immediately grew tense, her fists clenching.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let’s see who it is,” you said, your voice calm as you moved toward the front door. Laura stayed close behind, her small frame tense, her eyes darting toward the windows as if assessing possible threats. You placed a hand on the doorknob, glancing back at her. “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her fingers twitched, brushing against her side where her claws often unsheathed in moments of anxiety. You opened the door slowly, peering through the small crack.

“Oh, Peter!” you exclaimed, opening the door fully to reveal the young man standing on the porch in his Spider-Man suit. He was taller than when you last saw him, his lanky frame filling out slightly, though he still looked like the same awkward, wide-eyed kid you remembered. “You’ve gotten a bit taller in a year.”

Peter pulled off his mask, revealing a sheepish grin. “Yeah, uh… puberty’s a thing, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head, glancing past you into the mansion. “Hope it’s okay I stopped by. I was in the area and figured—”

“Of course it’s okay,” you interrupted warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “You’re always welcome here.”

Peter stepped inside, his eyes immediately falling on Laura, who was standing half-hidden behind you. Her sharp gaze was fixed on him, her posture defensive. Peter paused, his grin faltering slightly as he raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

“Uh… hi?” he tried, his voice unsure. “I’m Peter. You must be… Laura?”

She didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him. You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“This is Peter Parker,” you explained softly, glancing down at her. “He’s a friend of ours.”

Laura’s gaze flicked to you, then back to Peter. She didn’t move or speak, but some of the tension in her shoulders eased.

Peter offered a nervous laugh. “Wow, tough crowd. It’s nice to meet you, though. I’ve, uh, heard a lot about you. Good things! Really good things.”

Laura tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable as she continued to size him up. Then she jerked her wrist once before pointing at Peter.

“I think she wants to see your webs,” you said, glancing down at Laura with a small smile. Her dark eyes remained fixed on Peter, her expression blank but her body tense, like a coiled spring.

Peter’s grin returned, albeit a little nervously. “Oh, yeah? Well, I can definitely do that. Hold on.” He flexed his fingers, then quickly flicked his wrist, sending a thin, shimmering strand of webbing across the room. It stuck to the far wall with a soft thwip, and he gave it a playful tug.

Laura’s head tilted slightly, her focus narrowing on the web as though she were analyzing its structure. Her fingers twitched again, though whether it was from curiosity or a reflexive urge to defend herself, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Cool, right?” Peter said, his tone a little more confident now. He released the web, letting it dissolve as he looked back at her. “I can swing through the city with these. It’s like… uh, instant transportation but way scarier and more fun.”

Laura finally moved, taking a single step closer, her gaze darting from Peter’s face to his hands. She pointed at the spot on the wall where the web had landed, then back at him.

“You wanna see it again?” Peter asked. He mimicked her pointing gesture, earning a faint twitch of her lips—almost a smile but not quite. “Okay, okay, one more.”

He aimed at the ceiling this time, sending a longer strand upward. The webbing clung to the chandelier, and Peter gave a mock swing to demonstrate, though he didn’t actually leave the ground. “Ta-da!” he said, gesturing dramatically.

Laura took another step forward, stopping a few feet in front of him. She didn’t look at you for reassurance, which was something; instead, she raised her hand and pointed again, this time at his wrist.

“Oh, you wanna see where it comes from?” Peter said, holding up his hand. “It’s, uh, kind of gross, but—oh, wait, not gross! Just… science-y. And cool. Definitely cool.”

He turned his wrist to show her the small, almost-invisible mechanism attached to the underside of his suit’s glove. “See this? It’s my web-shooter. Homemade. Took me forever to get it right, but now it’s pretty solid. I press here—” he gestured to a small trigger, “—and bam. Webs.”

Laura stared at the device for a long moment before looking up at him, her brow furrowed slightly. She pointed at his face, then mimicked putting on a mask.

“Oh, you mean the suit?” Peter said, catching on. “Yeah, I made that too. Well, this version’s had a few upgrades, but the original was all me. Gotta protect the ol’ secret identity, you know?”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing Laura’s shoulder gently. “Peter’s a bit of a genius when it comes to tech,” you said, your voice soft. “He built all of this himself.”

“That’s, uh, kind of an exaggeration,” Peter said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just tinker a lot. Nothing fancy.”

Laura glanced at you briefly, then back at Peter. Finally, she reached out, her movements slow and deliberate, and tapped his wrist where the web-shooter sat.

Peter froze for a second, clearly unsure how to respond. “Oh, uh, you wanna try it?”

Laura pulled her hand back slightly, her expression unreadable.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “He’s offering.”

Peter carefully unfastened the web-shooter from his wrist and held it out to her. “Here. Just don’t, uh, point it at anyone unless you’re ready to explain why they’re stuck to a wall.”

Laura hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the device before finally taking it from him. She turned it over in her hands, inspecting every detail with the kind of focus that made you wonder if she was mentally deconstructing it piece by piece.

“She’s like a little engineer,” Peter said, his tone full of admiration. “Seriously, I think she’s smarter than me already.”

“She’s definitely got an eye for detail,” you agreed, watching as Laura mimicked the motion Peter had demonstrated, pressing the trigger lightly. A small strand of webbing shot out, landing on the floor. Her head tilted again, and for the first time, you saw the faintest glimmer of curiosity in her expression.

“Not bad,” Peter said, grinning. “You’ve got the hang of it already.”

Laura handed the web-shooter back to him without a word, her movements quick but not abrupt. She looked at you, then gave a single nod, as if to say she’d seen enough.

“You’re a tough critic, huh?” Peter said, reattaching the device to his wrist. “I like that.”

Laura didn’t respond, but her body language had relaxed slightly. You reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “She’s just careful,” you said. “Takes a lot for her to trust someone.”

Peter nodded, his grin softening into something more genuine. “Hey, I get it. It’s cool. No rush or anything. I just wanted to say hi and, uh, not get on her bad side.”

You chuckled, giving Laura’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You did fine, Peter. Thanks for stopping by. It’s always good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said, pulling his mask back on. He gave a little wave, directing it at Laura. “Nice meeting you, Laura. You’re, uh… pretty awesome.”

Laura watched him go, her expression unreadable again, but you didn’t miss the way her posture stayed a little less guarded, even after the door closed.

---

You and Logan laid on the couch in the common room, with you laying in between his legs, your back against his chest. The TV played A New Hope, which Logan grumbled about at first, until you reminded him that the two of you watched some Western last night.

“It doesn’t make sense why the damn droids—”

You brought a hand up behind you and placed it over Logan's mouth just as R2-D2 and C-3PO landed on Tatooine. He let out a muffled grumble against your palm, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“Logan,” you teased, turning your head slightly to catch his annoyed expression. “You promised no complaints tonight.”

He pulled your hand away gently, smirking as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I just don’t get why those two are so important. They’re just scrap metal on legs.”

“Blasphemy,” you replied, feigning offense. “They’re the heart and soul of Star Wars.”

Logan snorted, muttering something about “weird priorities,” but didn’t argue further. He rested his chin lightly on the top of your head as the movie continued, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

The peace was interrupted by the sound of small, light footsteps entering the room. You glanced toward the doorway and saw Laura standing there, her stuffed bunny clutched tightly in one hand. She didn’t say anything, of course, just stood there staring at the two of you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you greeted softly, motioning her over. “You wanna join us?”

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes darting between you and Logan before cautiously stepping closer. You sat up slightly and held out your hands, and she climbed onto the couch without a word. Once she was close enough, you gently lifted her and settled her between your legs, her back resting against your chest. Her bunny stayed tucked safely in her arms.

Logan’s eyes softened as he watched, his earlier grumpiness forgotten. He shifted to make more room, one arm draped lazily along the back of the couch.

For the first few minutes, Laura kept her gaze firmly averted from the screen, clearly uninterested. But gradually, you noticed her small head turning slightly, her dark eyes flickering toward the movie as Luke Skywalker wandered the desert. By the time Obi-Wan Kenobi made his first appearance, she was fully focused, her brows furrowed as she took it all in.

“You want me to rewind it?” you asked quietly, glancing down at her. “We’re not that far in.”

Logan groaned immediately. “Aw, come on, darlin’. We already sat through all that desert stuff.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Some of us appreciate the desert stuff.”

Laura looked up at you, then back at the screen. She didn’t say anything, but the way she clung to her bunny suggested she didn’t mind starting over. You took her silence as agreement and reached for the remote.

Logan let his head fall back dramatically. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“You’ll survive,” you said, smirking as you hit the rewind button.

The movie started over, and this time, all three of you watched in relative silence. You occasionally explained a few details to Laura, keeping your voice soft so as not to disturb the atmosphere. Logan offered a few snarky comments here and there, but even he seemed more engaged than he’d admit.

At some point, you noticed Laura’s head drooping, her body leaning more heavily against yours. She was fast asleep by the time the Jawas captured R2-D2, her bunny still clutched tightly in her hands.

You smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Guess she’s a fan,” you whispered.

Logan glanced over, his expression softening again as he took in the sight of Laura curled up against you. “Looks like it,” he murmured. “Not sure I’m ready for the day she starts quotin’ this stuff at me.”

You chuckled quietly. “You’ll manage.”

A comfortable silence settled over the room. The movie continued to play, but before long, you felt your own eyes growing heavy. Logan’s steady warmth and the soft rhythm of Laura’s breathing made it hard to stay awake. Eventually, you let your head rest against Logan’s chest, your hand resting lightly on Laura’s shoulder.

Logan glanced down, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two of you. He reached for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, carefully pulling it over you and Laura without disturbing either of you.

“Night, darlin’,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Then he leaned back, his eyes on the screen, the soft hum of the movie filling the room as the three of you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

---

“Rogue is an expert decorator, especially when it comes to Christmas.” You explained, carrying Laura on your hip. The mansion was decked out in lights, trees, garland, and glitter. Usually you and Logan would go to the cabin up north, a tradition the two of you have had for the past few years, but since Laura was around the two of you thought it’d be best to stay at the mansion.

Laura pointed up at the ceiling by the common room doorway. “Oh, that’s mistletoe,” you said with a soft smile, adjusting her on your hip. “It’s been a symbol of love and peace for centuries. There’s even a tradition—if two people stand underneath it, they’re supposed to kiss. Then they pick one of the berries.”

Laura’s brow furrowed slightly, her dark eyes flicking to you and then back to the greenery above. She shifted in your arms, clutching her stuffed bunny tightly.

Rogue’s voice called out from the other side of the room, drawing both of your attention. “Hey, Y/N! You think this garland should go along the staircase or the balcony?”

“Staircase,” you replied, moving toward her. “It’ll tie the whole entryway together.”

Rogue grinned, giving you a thumbs-up before going back to work. The mansion was in full holiday mode, with Rogue and you taking charge of most of the decorating. Or, as Rogue called it, “deckin’ the halls until the place practically screams Christmas.”

“Let’s go help,” you said to Laura, setting her down gently. She stuck close, always keeping one hand on your sleeve or your leg as you worked alongside Rogue, hanging ornaments and looping tinsel. Occasionally, you handed Laura a small task, like placing bows on the banister or choosing where a set of lights should go. She performed each task with the same quiet intensity she seemed to bring to everything.

Logan, meanwhile, was in another part of the mansion helping Jubilee sort out the tangled mess of outdoor lights. You could already imagine him grumbling under his breath about the chaos, but you had no doubt Jubilee would keep him in line with her usual brand of bubbly sarcasm.

The day wore on, and as dinner approached, you noticed Laura had disappeared. Your chest tightened briefly at the realization, but you reminded yourself that she’d been feeling safer in the mansion lately and likely wasn’t far.

You didn’t have to wonder long. Just as you moved into the common room, you spotted her, standing in the middle of the doorway under the mistletoe with her arms folded over her chest. Her sharp eyes locked onto you, and then she made a motion with her hand—a beckoning gesture.

You chuckled softly, stepping toward her. “What are you up to?”

She didn’t answer, only raised a finger and pointed toward the mistletoe. Her gaze slid past you, focusing on Logan, who had just entered the room behind you, holding a tangled string of lights.

“What’s this about, kid?” Logan asked, frowning slightly as he stopped beside you.

Laura pointed at the mistletoe again, her expression unyielding. She shifted her stuffed bunny from one arm to the other, and then, for the first time, she opened her mouth.

“Kiss.”

Both you and Logan froze, the single word hanging in the air like a snowflake suspended in time.

You blinked, your gaze snapping to Logan, whose eyes were wide with shock before softening into something warmer, more tender. A grin slowly tugged at the corner of his lips as he glanced between you and Laura.

“Well,” Logan said, his voice quieter than usual, “looks like she’s givin’ orders now.”

Your face warmed, but you couldn’t deny the smile pulling at your lips. “She’s persistent,” you murmured, looking at Laura.

Laura didn’t move, her expression unchanging as she stood her ground beneath the mistletoe, waiting. There was a glint of determination in her eyes, and you realized this wasn’t just her pushing you and Logan into a holiday tradition. It was something more. She was testing boundaries, creating her version of a family moment.

You glanced back at Logan, and his slight nod told you he felt it, too. With an amused sigh, you leaned up on your toes and tilted your face toward him. Logan’s hand came up, brushing against your cheek as he bent his head down to meet your lips in a kiss. It was soft and warm, lingering just a moment longer than you expected.

When you pulled away, the smallest trace of a smile had appeared on Laura’s face. She stepped closer, still clutching her bunny, and Logan reached down, picking her up easily. You grabbed the bunny so her little hands could hold onto Logan’s neck instead.

“Well, what about you, kid?” Logan asked her, his voice unusually gentle. “You gonna get a kiss, too?”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss one of her cheeks as Logan did the same to the other. Laura made a soft sound, something halfway between a giggle and a hum, as her arms wrapped tighter around Logan’s neck.

“Guess she approves,” you said, laughter in your voice as Logan looked at her with a rare softness in his eyes.

“Good,” he rumbled. “’Cause I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

From that point on, the evening felt even more special. Laura stayed close for the rest of the night, her presence a constant reminder of how much your little family had grown. You weren’t just surviving—you were building something new, together.

---

Ever since then, Laura spoke more. Not all the time, but enough.

You also learned that there was one thing her and Logan had in common. Their pranks. One evening, after classes ended, you took a shower and changed into your pajamas, one of Logan’s flannels and your sleep pants, before heading into the kitchen.

Jean offered you a glass of wine, which you accepted gratefully. The kitchen was warm with the smell of freshly baked cookies that Rogue and Jubilee had made earlier. You adjusted your glasses and took a sip, leaning against the counter as Jean filled you in on her day.

“I’m telling you, Scott nearly blew a fuse in the Danger Room today,” Jean said, chuckling softly. “He always forgets how easily Peter can get under his skin.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “Sounds like classic Peter. He never stops pushing buttons.”

Before Jean could respond, the faint sound of whispers and hushed laughter drew your attention toward the hallway. You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head as Logan and Laura entered the room, both looking suspiciously nonchalant.

“Logan,” you said, your tone laced with playful skepticism, “what are you two up to?”

“Us?” Logan asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’. Just makin’ the rounds.”

Laura stood beside him, her stuffed bunny tucked under one arm. Her sharp eyes darted between you and Jean, her lips pressed together in a way that suggested she was trying very hard not to smile.

Jean crossed her arms, her brow raised. “Uh-huh. And why do I get the feeling that ‘making the rounds’ actually means trouble?”

“No idea what you’re talkin’ about,” Logan said, though the mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Laura shifted on her feet, her free hand tugging at the hem of Logan’s flannel shirt, a silent cue. Logan nodded once before turning his attention back to you and Jean.

“We’ll catch up later, darlin’,” he said, winking at you. “C’mon, kid.”

Laura gave you a brief, almost sheepish glance before following Logan out of the kitchen. You and Jean exchanged a look.

“They’re definitely up to something,” Jean said, smirking.

You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos was about to unfold. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t involve—”

A sudden shout from the hallway cut you off.

“Logan! Laura!”

Jean burst into laughter as Scott stormed into the kitchen, his visor slightly askew and his face smeared with what appeared to be whipped cream. He pointed an accusatory finger toward the hallway. “Those two little menaces rigged the training console! It blasted me with a—”

“Pie cannon?” Jean finished, laughing so hard she had to set her wine glass down.

You bit back a smile, raising an eyebrow at Scott. “You mean to tell me you didn’t see it coming?”

“It was disguised as a systems diagnostic!” Scott exclaimed, his voice full of indignation. “I spent twenty minutes analyzing the setup, and then—bam!”

From somewhere down the hall, you heard Logan’s deep laughter mingling with Laura’s soft, breathy giggle. Your heart swelled at the sound; it was rare for Laura to laugh so freely, and you knew that moments like these were helping her feel more at home.

Jean wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. “Scott, I hate to say it, but you walked right into that one.”

Scott grumbled something under his breath before turning to leave, muttering about “revenge” as he stomped down the hallway.

You turned back to Jean, shaking your head in amusement. “I should probably go check on them before this escalates.”

Jean grinned, waving you off. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”

---

You found Logan and Laura in the rec room, both looking entirely too pleased with themselves. Laura was perched on the arm of the couch, her bunny in her lap, while Logan lounged beside her, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“You two really couldn’t resist, could you?” you said, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorway.

“Guy had it comin’,” Logan replied, completely unapologetic. “Been ridin’ me about the outdoor lights all week.”

Laura nodded, her expression serious despite the faint sparkle in her eyes.

You sighed, shaking your head as you walked over to them. “Just… try not to push Scott too far, okay? He’s still the one who has to lead team missions.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, waving a dismissive hand. But there was a softness in his gaze as he watched you, a quiet warmth that always lingered when you were near.

Laura slid off the couch and moved to your side, her small hand tugging at your sleeve. You looked down at her, and she tilted her head, her expression curious.

“Are you mad?” she asked softly, her voice still carrying the hesitancy she hadn’t yet outgrown.

You knelt down to her level, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No, sweetheart. I’m not mad. Just making sure you two don’t get into too much trouble.”

Her lips twitched into a small smile, and she leaned in, wrapping her arms around your neck. “Okay.”

Logan watched the exchange, his smirk fading into something more tender. He knew how much you had both longed for a family, and seeing you with Laura reminded him of just how far the two of you had come—not just as a couple, but as a team, a unit. A family.

---

Ever since summer break started, Laura followed you around more often. Without classes to worry about there was logically no reason to be separated.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as Rogue, Kitty, and Jubilee chatted animatedly about their upcoming mall trip. Laura stood close to you, her small hand clutching your skirt. She hadn’t said much, just watched the girls with her usual quiet intensity.

“You wanna go with them?” Logan asked Laura, his voice casual as he nodded toward the girls. “Looks like they’re gonna have a good time.”

Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Do you want me to go?”

You knelt down to her level, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said gently. “You can stay here with me and Logan. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Logan shot you a look that was equal parts amused and exasperated. “C’mon, kid,” he said to Laura, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. “Could be fun. You’ll get some new clothes, maybe a toy or two. And these three know how to find the best snacks at the food court.”

Kitty grinned. “Oh, for sure. We’ve got the food court mapped out like a treasure hunt.”

Jubilee chimed in. “And we’ll make sure you have fun, Laura. Promise.”

Laura’s gaze flicked between you and Logan, clearly conflicted. You gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s up to you, kiddo. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Logan’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You’ll be fine, kid. Go have some fun. You don’t need to be stuck with us old folks all the time.”

Laura hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded. “Okay.”

Rogue extended a hand to her. “Great. Let’s go, little one.”

Laura hesitated just long enough to give you a quick hug before taking Rogue’s hand. As the group headed for the door, you called after her, “have fun, Laura! Be good!”

“Always,” she replied, her voice soft but steady.

The door closed behind them, and the house fell into a rare, peaceful silence. You turned to Logan, who was watching you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Before you could say anything, he closed the distance between you in two long strides, scooping you up effortlessly.

“Logan!” you squeaked, laughing as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“Finally got you all to myself,” he said, his tone low and teasing. “Not lettin’ this opportunity go to waste.”

“Logan—”

He silenced you with a quick kiss, his smirk never fading. “Relax, darlin’. You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged lately. Time to take a break.”

You tried to feign indignation, but his warmth and the way he carried you so easily made it hard to keep a straight face. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it,” he shot back, carrying you down the hall toward the bedroom.

By the time he kicked the door shut behind him, you’d given up pretending to be annoyed. Logan set you down gently on the bed, his hands lingering at your waist as he leaned in close. His voice softened, the teasing edge giving way to something more tender.

“Missed this,” he murmured. “Missed you.”

You smiled up at him, your fingers brushing through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere, Logan.”

His gaze darkened slightly, a flicker of something unspoken passing through his eyes. But he didn’t say anything, just kissed you again, his touch reverent, as if grounding himself in the moment. His lips traveled from yours, skimming along your jaw, down your neck. Each kiss was deliberate, like he was marking a path only he knew.

“Logan,” you murmured, your fingers curling in his hair. Your voice carried a soft plea, one he clearly heard as his hands slid down your sides, lifting your shirt over your head. He paused for a moment, his thumbs brushing over your waist, and his eyes roamed over you, filled with something raw and tender all at once.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, his voice thick. “Never get tired of this, darlin’.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You always say that.”

“And I’ll keep sayin’ it,” he shot back, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Before you could respond, Logan’s hands moved to the clasp of your bra. But instead of unhooking it, you felt the unmistakable snikt as one of his claws extended. Your breath hitched when he expertly slid the adamantium blade under the fabric, slicing it open with ease. The sound was barely audible over your quickened breathing.

“Logan,” you started, but his mouth was already moving down your body, kissing along your collarbone, then lower. His hands skimmed the straps from your shoulders, and your ruined bra joined your shirt on the floor.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing between your breasts. His hands rested on your waist, firm and grounding, while his mouth continued its descent, worshiping every inch of skin he uncovered.

“You… you didn’t have to…” Your protest trailed off into a shiver as his lips pressed against your stomach, his beard scratching just enough to make you gasp.

“Didn’t wanna waste time,” he replied, his voice muffled as he kissed just above the waistband of your skirt. His hands tugged at the fabric, pushing it higher until it bunched around your waist, leaving you in nothing but the small wedge heels you’d forgotten you were wearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him with a mix of anticipation and amusement. “Still fully dressed, huh? Doesn’t seem fair.”

Logan glanced up at you, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Fair? Darlin’, I’m about to spoil you rotten.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he gripped your thighs, spreading them apart effortlessly. His lips pressed against the sensitive skin just above the edge of your panties, and you shivered at the heat of his breath.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with want.

He looked up at you again, his expression softening for a moment. “I got you,” he said simply.

In one smooth motion, you found yourself straddling his face, his strong hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady.

“Logan!” Your voice was a mix of shock and laughter, your hands automatically going to his shoulders for balance. “What are you…”

“Told you,” he interrupted, his tone both teasing and commanding. “Gonna spoil you.”

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was on you, hot and insistent. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his tongue parted you, finding exactly where you needed him. The initial shock melted into pleasure, and your head fell back as a low moan spilled from your lips.

“Oh, God,” you managed, your fingers digging into his shoulders. Logan’s grip tightened on your thighs, pulling you closer against him. His tongue worked in slow, deliberate strokes, each one sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body. When he sucked lightly, your hips bucked involuntarily, and his hands moved to hold you in place.

“Logan, please,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath.

He groaned against you, the vibration only adding to your pleasure. “You taste so damn good, sweetheart,” he murmured between strokes, his voice thick and low.

Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, your thighs trembling under the firm grip of his hands. He held you in place as his tongue explored you, each deliberate motion sending ripples of heat through your core. The raw need in his voice matched the way he devoured you, like a man starved.

“Logan… oh, God,” you gasped, your hips instinctively rolling against his mouth. The intensity of it, the sheer focus he poured into you, left you teetering on the edge. You leaned back slightly, bracing your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckled against your sensitive skin, the low rumble sending another shiver through you. “Keep sayin’ my name like that,” he teased, his lips brushing over your clit before his tongue swirled around it in slow, agonizing circles. “Drives me wild.”

You couldn’t answer—not coherently, at least. Instead, a breathy moan escaped your lips, your head falling back as pleasure coiled tighter in your belly. The wet heat of his mouth, the scrape of his beard against your inner thighs, every sensation overwhelmed you.

“You’re… you’re too good at this,” you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

His smirk was evident even without seeing it. “Damn right I am,” he replied, his grip on your thighs tightening. He shifted slightly, pulling you even closer as his tongue plunged deeper, his nose brushing against your clit in a way that made your back arch.

The sharp gasp that tore from your throat only spurred him on. His hands slid up to your hips, his thumbs pressing into the curve of your waist to steady you as you trembled against him. “That’s it, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice muffled but unmistakably rough with want. “Let go for me.”

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. The tension inside you snapped, a flood of white-hot ecstasy that left you crying out his name. Logan groaned as he held you through it, his tongue never relenting, drawing every last wave of pleasure from you until you sagged against him, your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

You blinked down at him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. His lips glistened with evidence of your release, his smirk smug but not unkind. He looked utterly unrepentant, like a man who knew exactly what he’d done and was damn proud of it.

“Still with me?” he asked, his voice a little softer now as his hands caressed your thighs, grounding you.

You hummed as he gently pushed you down onto the bed. He was sitting on his heels between your legs as you leaned up to start unbuttoning his flannel. Logan watched you, his eyes fixed on your face, his hands resting on your thighs. The reverence in his gaze made your breath hitch, and you focused on the small task of freeing him from the worn fabric.

“C’mere,” he murmured, one hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek. “Need to see you, darlin’.”

You tugged the shirt open, revealing the faint scars littering his chest, some old and faded, others still pink and newer. Your fingers trailed over his skin as you pushed the flannel off his shoulders. He shivered slightly under your touch, and you smiled softly.

“You’re overdressed,” you pointed out, sitting up to work at the buckle of his belt. Logan’s hands covered yours, halting your movements.

“Leave the skirt,” he said, his voice low and rough. His gaze flicked to your heels. “And those.”

Your cheeks heated, but you nodded, your hands dropping to your sides as he finished unfastening his belt. His jeans and boxers joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and when he was finally bare before you, your eyes lingered, taking in every inch of him. He leaned down, catching your lips in a slow, heated kiss that left you breathless. His hand slid under your thigh, hitching your leg higher as he settled between your legs.

“Been too damn long,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice thick with longing.

Your fingers traced the muscles of his back as he kissed you, his lips soft but insistent. When he pulled back, his hand slid down your side, calloused fingers skimming your hip. He guided himself to your entrance, his forehead pressing against yours as he paused, his breathing uneven.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice trembling with want. “Please.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. He pushed into you slowly, the stretch making you gasp softly. Logan groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping your hips as he filled you completely. He stayed still for a moment, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he breathed you in.

“Always so fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped. “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. Always do.”

Your nails pressed into his shoulders as you adjusted to him, your body instinctively arching against his. He started to move, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust deep and purposeful. You whimpered softly, biting your lip to muffle the sounds threatening to escape.

“C’mon, darlin’,” Logan urged, his voice rough. “Lemme hear you.”

“Logan,” you gasped, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. The sheer intensity of him, the way he moved inside you, left you trembling. His hands roamed your body, one sliding under your thigh to angle your hips, the other tangling in your hair.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Doin’ so good for me. So good.”

Your head fell back against the pillows, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps as he picked up the pace. His hips snapped against yours, the rough friction sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. Logan’s voice was a constant murmur in your ear, each word dripping with adoration and want.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he said, his voice thick. “Spread out for me, takin’ my cock so damn well. Been dreamin’ about this, darlin’. Missed the way you feel.”

Your hands slid to his sides, your fingers digging into his skin as you clung to him. The pressure building inside you was almost unbearable, your body tightening around him with every thrust. Logan groaned, the sound low and primal, and his lips found yours in a heated, desperate kiss.

“Logan,” you whispered against his mouth, your voice trembling.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his grip on your thigh tightening. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Wanna feel you.”

His words pushed you over the edge. Your body arched against his, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as the tension snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves. Logan’s pace didn’t falter, his movements driving you higher as he chased his own release. The sound of his name on your lips sent him spiraling, his body tensing as he followed you into bliss.

He collapsed against you, his weight grounding you as you both tried to catch your breath. His hand slid to your cheek, tilting your face up so he could kiss you softly. The tenderness in his touch made your heart ache, and you smiled against his lips.

“Missed you,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reminded him, your fingers brushing through his hair.

Logan pressed his forehead to yours, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Good.”

You held him close, your bodies tangled together, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

---

“Guess I’m the unlucky one then.” You said, grabbing a few binders from your desk.

Logan grumbled under his breath as he watched you gather a few binders and textbooks from your desk. "I’m gonna kill Scott. There’s no reason you should be teachin’ a summer class."

You adjusted your glasses and glanced over your shoulder at him, an amused smile tugging at your lips. "Logan, it’s only for eight weeks. It’s not like I’m running a full semester."

He narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to downplay it. "Still too much. You already do enough around here."

You shook your head, biting back a laugh. "It’s just a class for the younger kids. Basic physics. Nothing too strenuous."

Logan snorted and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway. "Darlin’, you’d find a way to make a black hole sound like a bedtime story. Don’t mean you gotta be teachin’ every second of the day."

"That’s because black holes are fascinating," you teased, brushing past him to set your materials down on the kitchen table. "And it’s not like I’m always working. You know I’m just filling in since Ororo is handling extra field training this summer."

"Uh-huh," Logan muttered, clearly unconvinced. "And what about time for you? When’s the last time you had a break that didn’t involve grading papers or chasin’ kids around?"

You opened your mouth to respond but paused when you felt a small tug on your pants. Looking down, you found Laura standing beside you, her stuffed bunny tucked tightly under her arm. Her serious gaze flickered between you and Logan.

"Why is he mad?" Laura asked softly, her voice careful but laced with concern.

Logan’s expression softened instantly, and he crouched to meet her eye level. "Ain’t mad, kid. Just think your mo—" he caught himself, clearing his throat, "—Y/N, works too hard sometimes. Somebody’s gotta look out for her, right?"

Laura looked up at you, her small brow furrowing in thought. "Do you want me to help?"

Your heart melted at her earnestness, and you knelt beside her, brushing a hand over her dark hair. "Sweetheart, that’s very kind, but I promise I’m okay. Logan’s just being overprotective again."

"Someone’s gotta do it," Logan quipped, standing back up and crossing his arms again.

Laura seemed satisfied with your answer and wrapped her arms around your neck in a quick hug before retreating to sit at the kitchen counter, her bunny in tow. You straightened and turned to Logan, who was still giving you that stubborn, protective look.

"It’s eight weeks, Logan," you said softly, stepping closer to him. "I promise, it’s manageable. And I’ll still have plenty of time for you and Laura."

His jaw twitched, but he relented with a small sigh, one hand reaching out to rest on your waist. "Fine. But if you so much as look tired, I’m takin’ over. Don’t care if Scott likes it or not."

"Noted," you replied, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Before Logan could grumble again, the distant sound of children’s laughter echoed through the mansion halls, followed by the patter of small footsteps. You glanced toward the doorway as a group of younger kids you’d helped rescue, alongside Laura, ran past, giggling and chattering excitedly. One of them stopped to wave at you before darting after the others.

Laura glanced at the commotion, then turned back to you. "Do I have to go with them?"

You smiled gently and shook your head. "No, sweetheart. You can stay with us if you’d like."

Laura hesitated for a moment before nodding and settling deeper into her chair. Logan watched her carefully, his usual gruff demeanor melting as he studied her.

"She’s stickin’ close today," he murmured, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

"She’s getting more comfortable," you said softly. "But she still has her moments. We just need to keep showing her she’s safe."

Logan nodded, his hand brushing against yours. "She’s got you, darlin’. That’s all she needs."

---

“You should’ve seen it, Jean! I grabbed the papers from Scott’s hands and got this,” you said, holding up your index finger to show the tiny, nearly invisible cut. “And Laura snarled at him.”

Jean laughed, setting her mug down on the counter. “She snarled at Scott? Oh, I wish I’d been there for that.”

“I know, right?” You adjusted your glasses, shaking your head in disbelief. “I mean, Scott looked so confused. He just froze and started stammering, like he didn’t know what he did wrong.”

Jean leaned on the counter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, Scott does have a talent for rubbing people the wrong way. But I think it’s sweet—Laura’s protective of you. She’s really come out of her shell since she’s been here.”

Your expression softened as you thought about Laura. “She has. She still sticks close, though. Logan says she’s like that because of, you know, everything she’s been through.”

Jean nodded knowingly. “It’s understandable. But it’s also because of you. She feels safe with you. Both of you.”

“Maybe.” You smiled faintly, swirling your mug of tea. “It’s just… hard to believe sometimes, you know? I mean, for so long, it was just me and Logan. And now, suddenly, there’s this kid who sees us as her family.”

Jean’s smile turned warm, but there was a flicker of thoughtfulness in her gaze. She reached out and squeezed your hand. “You’ve built something amazing, Y/N. She’s lucky to have you.”

Before you could respond, you heard heavy footsteps approaching. Logan entered the kitchen, his ever-present gruffness softened as his eyes landed on you. “You tell Jean about Scott yet?”

Jean smirked. “Oh, she did. And I’m dying to know—did he actually apologize to Laura, or did he just flee in terror?”

Logan chuckled, leaning against the doorway. “He tried, but the kid just gave him her death stare. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “That sounds about right.”

Laura padded into the kitchen just then, her bunny tucked securely under her arm. She stopped beside you and tugged gently on your sleeve. “Are you okay?”

Her small, serious voice tugged at your heart. “Of course, kiddo. It’s just a little paper cut.”

Laura frowned, her gaze dropping to your hand. “It could get infected.”

Jean covered her mouth to stifle a laugh as Logan stepped closer, resting a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Kid’s got a point,” he said, clearly trying not to smile. “Better let her put a Band-Aid on it. Y’know, for safety.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your grin. “Fine, but only if you help, Laura. Think you can handle it?”

She nodded solemnly and marched off to fetch the first-aid kit. Jean leaned closer and whispered, “you’ve got your own little bodyguard now.”

“I know,” you whispered back, smiling as Laura returned with the kit in hand.

Laura set to work with the precision of someone much older, carefully cleaning the tiny cut and applying a Band-Aid decorated with cartoon characters. When she was done, she looked up at you with a serious expression. “No more paper cuts.”

You nodded, biting back a laugh. “Got it. No more paper cuts.”

Logan ruffled Laura’s hair, his expression softening in that way it always did when he looked at her. “Good work, kid. Keepin’ her safe.”

Laura nodded firmly, clearly taking the role very seriously. Jean’s gaze flicked between the three of you, her smile growing as she picked up her mug. “I’d say you’re in good hands, Y/N. Between Logan and Laura, you’ll never have to worry about anything.”

You looked at them both, warmth blooming in your chest. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I think you’re right.”

---

You looked at both sides of the hallway before quickly ducking into Ororo’s office, shutting the door behind you. She glanced up from her desk, eyebrows raised. “Whoa, whoa. What’re you doing here?”

“Hiding,” you muttered, leaning back against the door.

Ororo tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “From who?”

“Logan,” you admitted, sighing as you adjusted your glasses.

Her lips twitched with amusement as she leaned back in her chair. “Logan? Why are you hiding from him?”

“Because,” you began, stepping away from the door and crossing your arms, “this morning, he wouldn’t let me get out of bed. I mean, he wrapped himself around me like a vice, said it was ‘too early,’ and when I finally managed to escape, he helped me dress.”

Ororo blinked. “He helped you what?”

“Dress,” you repeated, exasperated. “He buttoned my shirt, made sure my socks matched—he even put my glasses on for me!”

She burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Oh, I’d pay to see that. Logan, Mr. ‘I’ll Rip Your Head Off,’ playing stylist.”

“Not stylist,” you corrected. “He wasn’t picking outfits. He just... wouldn’t let me do it myself. It was sweet but—ugh—I’m an adult! I can dress myself.”

Ororo raised a skeptical brow, her smile widening. “Sweet? That doesn’t sound like something you should hide from. Sounds like you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.”

You groaned, sitting in one of the chairs across from her desk. “It’s more than that. He’s been extra... clingy lately. And Laura, too! She wouldn’t even let me walk down the stairs this morning without holding my hand. She said the bannister might ‘give out.’ The bannister, Ororo.”

Ororo pressed her fingers to her lips, trying to suppress another laugh. “Sounds like they’re on high alert. Did something happen recently?”

“No!” you said quickly, waving your hands. “Everything’s been fine. Better than fine, actually. Laura’s been settling in, Logan’s been... happy, I think. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

Ororo gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Well, maybe it’s just their instincts kicking in. Logan’s always been protective, and Laura’s clearly picked up a few habits from him.”

“Clearly,” you mumbled, running a hand through your hair. “But it’s a bit much. I just needed a breather, you know?”

She nodded, her expression softening. “I get it. But you know, for all their gruffness, they love you. And maybe they’re just trying to show it in their own... unique way.”

You smiled faintly, her words easing some of your frustration. “Yeah, I guess. I just hope this phase passes soon. I’m not used to being hovered over like this.”

“Well, if you need a place to hide, my office is always open,” Ororo teased, leaning forward with a grin. “But I wouldn’t stay too long. Logan’ll probably sniff you out before lunch.”

“Don’t remind me,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “Thanks, Ororo.”

“Anytime,” she said, watching as you stood and stretched. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

She smirked. “If Logan starts trying to braid your hair, let me know. I’ll need to see that for myself.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you headed for the door. “Don’t hold your breath.”

---

When you stepped into the hallway, you didn’t make it five steps before Logan appeared around the corner, his sharp eyes locking onto you immediately.

“Darlin’, thought I told you to take it easy today,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar gruff warmth as he approached.

You sighed, caught red-handed. “Logan, I’m fine. I don’t need to—”

He interrupted you by tugging your glasses up slightly and peering at your face, as if checking for signs of exhaustion. “You been runnin’ around again?”

“Not running,” you said, batting his hand away but smiling despite yourself. “Just... walking briskly.”

He snorted, clearly unconvinced. “C’mon. Laura’s lookin’ for you. Said she wants to sit with you during lunch.”

You couldn’t help but soften at the mention of her. “Alright. But no more helping me get dressed, okay?”

His smirk was small but unmistakable. “No promises, sweetheart.”

---

You stepped out of the bathroom in the main hall, closing the door behind you before turning to face Logan, who was leaning against the wall by the door.

You yelped, covering your mouth with one hand and your heart with the other, “Jesus, honey, you scared me!”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “you’ve been going to the bathroom more often.”

“Yeah… because it’s summer and I’m drinking more water. Unlike someone who thinks coffee counts as part of his water intake,” you teased, adjusting your glasses as you glanced at Logan.

Logan crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Coffee’s got water in it. Pretty sure that counts.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not how hydration works, Logan.”

He tilted his head, watching you closely, and his smirk faded into something more thoughtful. “You sure you’re okay? You’ve been lookin’ a little… off lately. Not sick or nothin’, just different.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Different how?”

Logan shrugged but didn’t break eye contact. “Dunno. Just feels like somethin’s changed.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine, really. Probably just tired from teaching the summer class.”

Before Logan could press further, Laura appeared around the corner, her little bunny tucked under her arm as always. She made a beeline for you, her small hand immediately wrapping around yours. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but insistent.

Your heart melted a little at the concern in her wide eyes. “I’m fine, Laura. Just talking to Logan about staying hydrated.”

She frowned, looking up at Logan with a scolding expression that was comically reminiscent of his own. “You should drink water, too.”

Logan snorted, crouching slightly so he was closer to her eye level. “Kid, I’ve been doin’ just fine with coffee for decades. Don’t think I’ll stop now.”

Laura’s frown deepened. “Coffee doesn’t hydrate you.”

You bit your lip to stifle a laugh as Logan raised an eyebrow. “You teamin’ up on me now?”

“She’s right,” you said with a grin. “Even if it pains you to admit it.”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath about stubborn women before standing and looking down at the two of you. “Fine. I’ll drink more water. Happy?”

Laura nodded, satisfied, and tugged on your hand. “Come on. It’s time for lunch.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, letting her lead you down the hallway. As you glanced back, you caught Logan watching the two of you, a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten in the best way.

---

Laura sat on the stool at the kitchen island, watching your movements like a hawk. Her bunny sat in her lap while her hand absentmindedly stroked one of its ears.

Some pop music played from the radio by the stove as you dipped your finger in the sauce. You quickly pulled your finger away from the spoon, muttering an “ouch” as you sucked on your finger. Before you knew it, Laura had hopped off her stool and come to stand by you, tugging your arm down so she could inspect your slightly reddened finger.

“It’s fine, kiddo,” you said softly, holding up your hand for her to see. “Just touched the sauce. It’s hot, but no harm done.”

Laura frowned, narrowing her eyes at your hand as though the sauce itself had committed some great crime. “You shouldn’t do that,” she said seriously.

You bit back a smile, her concern both endearing and amusing. “You’re right. I’ll be more careful.”

Logan’s familiar footsteps echoed into the kitchen before he appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed. His gaze flicked to you and then to Laura standing protectively by your side. “What happened now?”

“Nothing!” you exclaimed, throwing him an exasperated look. “I touched the sauce, and it was hot. End of story.”

Logan raised a brow as he leaned against the doorframe. “Did you burn yourself?”

“No,” you said firmly, lifting your hand to show him. “See? No burn. Laura’s just being thorough.”

“She’s not wrong to be,” Logan muttered, his sharp eyes scanning you as if to confirm you were telling the truth.

Laura crossed her arms, mirroring Logan’s stance. “She needs to be more careful,” she said with a seriousness far beyond her years.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Alright, alright. I’ll be more careful. You two can call off the safety patrol now.”

“Not a chance,” Logan said with a smirk. “We know you too well.”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to stirring the sauce, but you couldn’t ignore the way Laura stayed glued to your side, her watchful eyes tracking your every move.

“Laura,” you said gently, glancing down at her. “I’m fine. Why don’t you go back to your bunny and let me finish up here?”

Her brow furrowed, but she hesitated, glancing at Logan. He gave her a small nod, and she reluctantly climbed back onto her stool, though she kept her bunny close and her eyes on you.

Logan pushed off the doorframe and walked over, resting a hand on your lower back as he leaned in to check the sauce. “Smells good,” he murmured, his voice low.

“It would smell better if you stopped hovering,” you teased, elbowing him lightly.

He chuckled, his hand staying on your back. “Can’t help it, darlin’. You know that.”

“I do,” you admitted softly, meeting his eyes. “And I appreciate it. Both of you.”

Laura perked up at that, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Good,” she said. “You should.”

Logan grinned, ruffling her hair as she giggled. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene—the three of you in the kitchen, the warmth of the moment settling over you like a blanket. For the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

“Alright,” you said, breaking the silence as you picked up the spoon again. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Go set the table, you two.”

Laura hopped off her stool, grabbing her bunny as she darted toward the dining room. Logan lingered a moment longer, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured.

You smiled, glancing up at him. “And don’t you forget it.”

He smirked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before following Laura. The kitchen fell quiet again, save for the music playing softly in the background, and you let yourself bask in the peace of the moment.

---

You raised an eyebrow to yourself as you turned the corner, carefully listening to the footsteps behind you turning from two pairs to one pair.

Students moved out of the way as Charles rolled down the hall, “hello, Professor.” You said, with a smile.

“Hello, Y/N.” Charles rolled past, offering you a kind smile. He didn’t get far before spotting Logan and Laura entering the hallway behind you, the young girl perched comfortably on Logan’s shoulders. “And hello to you two.”

Laura gave a small wave, her hand clutching her bunny. Logan nodded, his grip firm on Laura’s ankles to keep her steady. “Charles,” Logan said, his tone gruff but polite.

“You’re all heading to the kitchen, I take it?” Charles asked, an amused glint in his eye as he noted how closely Logan and Laura were sticking to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, adjusting your glasses. “Someone promised Laura she could pick her dessert for after dinner. Now she’s making sure I follow through.”

Laura leaned forward slightly, her chin resting on Logan’s head. “She’s not allowed to forget,” she added, her voice serious.

Logan smirked. “She’s like me—sticks to her word. You don’t gotta worry about that.”

Charles chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll leave you all to it. Enjoy your evening.”

“You too,” you said as Charles wheeled off, his presence leaving the hall feeling quieter.

Logan shifted Laura slightly before following you into the kitchen. Inside, Jean and Scott were already seated at the island. Jean was flipping through a magazine, and Scott was fiddling with his glasses, a steaming cup of tea in front of him.

“Hey,” Jean greeted with a smile. “How’s it going?”

“Busy,” you replied with a small laugh, heading to the counter. Logan stayed close, setting Laura down carefully as she scampered over to sit beside Jean.

Scott grabbed another cup of tea and handed it to you. “Figured you might need this.”

You accepted it with a polite nod. “Thanks, Scott.” You took a tentative sip, the warmth spreading through you—until the taste hit. Immediately, you fought to keep your expression neutral, but a slight grimace slipped through.

Jean caught your eye and raised a brow, mouthing, it’s bad, isn’t it?

You gave a subtle nod as you swallowed. Terrible.

Scott tilted his head, watching you curiously. “How is it?”

You hesitated, glancing at Jean for backup, but she just smirked and sipped her water. “It’s, uh…” You cleared your throat. “Unique. Thanks for making it.”

Scott grinned. “Unique’s good. I’ll take that.”

Laura leaned forward, her bunny in her lap. “Can I taste it?” she asked innocently.

“No!” you and Jean said in unison, a little too quickly. Logan stifled a laugh, shaking his head as Laura blinked in confusion.

Jean smoothly recovered, putting a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Tea’s not really for kids, sweetie. Stick to your dessert plan.”

Laura shrugged, seemingly satisfied, and turned back to her bunny. Logan stepped closer, leaning his hip against the counter near you. “Unique, huh?” he said low enough that only you could hear.

You shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Never said a word.”

Jean leaned back in her chair, looking between the two of you with a knowing smile. “So, what’s on the dessert menu tonight?”

“Laura’s call,” you replied, glancing at the girl. “What’ll it be, kiddo?”

Laura’s face lit up. “Ice cream. With chocolate syrup. And sprinkles.”

Scott winced. “You’re braver than I am. That’s a sugar rush waiting to happen.”

“She’s got Logan to burn it off later,” Jean teased.

Logan smirked. “Bring it on.”

You sighed dramatically. “Great. Guess I’m stuck cleaning the aftermath.”

Logan’s hand brushed against yours, his touch grounding. “You’re never stuck. We’ve got it covered.”

You met his eyes, his sincerity making your chest tighten. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world fading into the background. Then Laura tugged at your sleeve, breaking the moment.

“Let’s go, Y/N!” she said excitedly. “The ice cream’s waiting.”

With a smile, you nodded, following her to the freezer. Logan stayed close, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, and for a brief second, you wondered if he even realized he was doing it—or if it was as unconscious as the way Laura hovered near you this past month.

---

You hadn’t checked your calendar in a few weeks, either too busy with the summer class you were teaching or too busy with Laura and Logan hovering over your every move.

Luckily, it was the first time in weeks that neither of them were to be found. The two of them were outside with the other young kids and Ororo.

You marked off each day with an ‘X’ after double-checking that everything had been done. June 20: New toothbrushes. June 25: Clean bathroom. June 30: Wash bedsheets (unless already washed). July 9-15: Period.

You waited a moment, looking at the calendar. It was July 21, so not too far off from when you were supposed to get your period. You marked an ‘X’ throughout the week, leaving the 21st unmarked.

Putting on your slippers, you headed down to the med bay where Jean should be; she told you the other night she had some reorganizing to do.

Opening the doors, you saw Jean wiping down one of the medical beds, a clipboard resting on the counter nearby. She glanced up as you entered, her expression softening into a smile.

"Hey, Y/N. What's up? Need me to patch someone up again, or is this a social visit?" she teased, setting the cloth aside.

You shook your head, adjusting your glasses. "Neither, actually. Just... something I wanted to run by you."

Jean gestured to one of the stools by the counter, her curiosity piqued. "Alright. What's going on?"

Sliding onto the stool, you sighed softly. "It’s probably nothing, but I figured I’d ask. My period’s late—about a week or so." You hesitated, glancing at her. "I’m not too worried, but I wanted to see if that’s normal. Hormone fluctuations or stress maybe?"

Jean’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Could be either. It’s been unusually hot lately, and I know Ororo mentioned she was late a while back because of it. Stress can throw things off, too. Have you been under a lot of pressure lately?"

You gave a small laugh. "A little. Between teaching and keeping an eye on Laura and Logan hovering every second, it’s been a lot. Not bad, though—just busy."

Jean nodded, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. "It doesn’t sound alarming, but if you’re feeling off, we can do some tests—just to rule anything out. Plus, it’s about time for your yearly checkup, right?"

You nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Might as well knock it all out at once."

Jean offered a reassuring smile. "Good call. Let’s run some blood tests and take a look. Probably nothing, but better safe than sorry."

You followed her instructions, extending your arm as she prepped for the blood draw. Jean worked efficiently, her movements calm and practiced. When she was done, she labeled the vials and gave your arm a gentle pat.

"That’s it for now. Results will take a little bit, so sit tight," she said, nodding toward the stool. "I’ll run these through."

You settled back, trying to distract yourself by scrolling through your phone. After what felt like forever but was probably only twenty minutes, Jean returned with a peculiar expression—one that made your stomach twist in uncertainty. She had something behind her back.

"Okay," she began, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "Before I say anything, I need you to trust me and just do this."

She revealed a pregnancy test and handed it to you. Your brows shot up in confusion. "Jean, why are you giving me this? I told you, that’s not—"

"Just humor me," she interrupted, her tone firm but kind. "Go. Take it. I’ll explain after."

You stared at her, baffled. "You’re being cryptic, and I hate it."

She smirked faintly. "I know. Go. Please."

Grumbling under your breath, you grabbed the test and headed for the restroom. A few minutes later, you emerged, holding the test carefully in your hand.

Jean looked up, her expression unreadable. "Well?"

"It’s not done yet," you said, setting it on the counter. "What exactly are we doing here, Jean?"

"Just waiting," she replied smoothly, but there was a tension in her posture that you couldn’t ignore.

The two of you stood in silence, the seconds dragging on until the test’s display showed the result. Your breath caught when you saw the word: pregnant.

You stared at it, blinking as though it might change. "Jean," you said slowly, turning to her. "This can’t be right. I mean... after everything—this can’t—"

Jean stepped closer, her hands gently gripping your shoulders. "The blood test confirmed it, Y/N. You’re pregnant."

The words hit you like a freight train, your mind reeling. You shook your head, unable to process. "No. That’s not possible. We stopped trying years ago. There’s no way—"

"I know it’s a lot to take in," Jean said gently. "But the results don’t lie."

Tears blurred your vision, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "How?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Jean’s smile was warm, her eyes shining with understanding. "Sometimes, things happen when you least expect them."

You couldn’t find the words, your hands trembling as you clutched the test. Jean pulled you into a hug, her presence grounding you.

"Take your time," she said softly. "And when you’re ready, you can tell him."

---

You paced the bedroom later that night, the pregnancy test—one of many you took for your own peace of mind—in your hand.

The last time you did this; it didn’t end so well. And though Jean guessed you were 5 weeks along, only one week away from when you had the miscarriage, it didn’t do anything to quell your nerves.

Part of you wanted to wait until you passed 6 weeks to spare Logan the pain of losing another baby, but the other part of you wanted to throw up at the thought of keeping it away from him.

Before you could spiral further, the bedroom door opened, and you quickly slipped the test into the pocket of your robe. Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as Logan stepped inside, his expression softening when he saw you. He had that familiar, slightly worried look—one that said he’d been thinking about you but didn’t know how to bring it up.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Logan greeted, closing the door behind him. His voice was calm, but there was a subtle edge to it. “You alright? Haven’t seen you much since breakfast.”

You forced a smile, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, just… busy.”

He stepped closer, his piercing eyes scanning your face, and for a moment, you thought he might somehow already know. But he didn’t say anything, just settled a hand on your shoulder. His touch was warm, grounding you in the moment.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice gentler now.

You nodded, taking a breath. “Yeah, but there’s, um… something I need to talk to you about.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. “Alright. What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, your fingers brushing the edge of the test in your pocket. The words felt heavy, like they didn’t want to leave your throat. But you knew you couldn’t keep this from him, no matter how scared you were.

“I went to see Jean earlier,” you started, your voice quieter than you intended. Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you continue. “I wasn’t feeling off or anything—just… noticed my period was late. So, she ran some tests.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. “What kind of tests? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “At least… I think it is. She ran a blood test, and, um…” You trailed off, finally pulling the test out of your pocket and holding it out to him. “I’m pregnant.”

Logan stared at the test in your hand, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours. His eyes lingered on the word displayed on the test, and you saw the exact moment it registered.

“Pregnant,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze snapped back to you, searching your face. “You’re… serious?”

You nodded, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Jean thinks I’m about five weeks along. I didn’t think it was even possible, Logan. We tried so long, and then…” You swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence.

Logan stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. His touch was steady, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Darlin’, don’t—don’t do that. This ain’t like before, alright? We’re not gonna think about that.”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you. “I don’t know how to not think about it. I’m terrified, Logan. What if—”

He cut you off, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “No ‘what ifs.’ Not this time,” he said firmly. “We’re gonna take this one day at a time, together. And if you’re scared, that’s alright—I’ll be scared with you. But I’m not gonna let you go through this alone.”

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I was going to wait until we passed six weeks to tell you. Just in case…”

Logan pulled back slightly, his hands still cradling your face. “You shouldn’t have to carry that by yourself,” he said softly. “Doesn’t matter if it’s five weeks, five days, or five minutes—I wanna be here for all of it. Every second.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and Logan pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. His hand rested on the back of your head, his other arm wrapped securely around your waist. You clung to him, your face buried against his chest.

“I don’t know how this happened,” you admitted, your voice muffled.

Logan kissed the top of your head, his voice low and steady. “Don’t matter how, sweetheart. All that matters is it happened. And I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you and the baby are alright. You hear me?”

You nodded against his chest, his words soothing some of the fear that had been clawing at you. For the first time that day, you felt a small flicker of hope, fragile but there nonetheless.

Logan pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand brushing a tear from your cheek. “We’re gonna be alright,” he said softly, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “All three of us.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that day, you believed him.

this takes place in 2016 and part of 2017!

also... finally😭😭it's been a long journey for them

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #i love you in every time #i love you always and forever #logan ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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lulunothulu · 10 months ago

Text

“A Bullseye to the Heart” Ch. 8

Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Latina Reader

Summary: Flashbacks creep into your dreams, causing you to wake up in a panic…it’s a good thing Jake is there to calm you. Jake finds out what happened to you, what happened with your ex, and why you’ve been getting paid off.

Content: Flashbacks(kinda gory), torture, anxiety attack, talks of suicide, some swearing, DV, will end on a happy note.

Word count: 4,019

A/N: While I think you can assume this is a middle eastern place that she was taken/sent to, I didn’t label the people for obvious reasons. Please be mindful of this and really put yourself in her shoes. Next chapter will be a lot less traumatic. I promise 💗 (Please do go back and read the other chapters, this won’t make a lot of sense if you don’t. All linked in my Masterlist!)

Chapter 8

“What were you sent here to do?” The man asks. His dark hair and even darker eyes bare into yours, daring you to speak. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt, his mouth and nose covered in a mask.

You’d figured out that he was the leader of the terrorist organization whose weapons you were supposed to bomb. You’d been in their custody for a few days, tied to a pole on the ceiling like a slab of meat in a butcher shop.

They did this to weaken you for torture, you knew that. You’d been trained for this.

“Answer me!” The man yells. When you don’t say anything but stare at him, he nods to a man on your left.

This one compared to the leader, was huge—broad shouldered and muscular even under the loose shirt he wore.

The other man smiles, a whip coming into your view. Before you had time to brace yourself, the whip cracks and slams into your skin.

You seethe in pain, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of screaming in pain.

Except, when the whip is pulled away from your back, a chunk of flesh follows. You let out a blood curdling scream at that.

“All you have to do is tell us who you were working for,” the Leader tells you. “Your Admiral must’ve told you something.”

“I don’t know anything,” you gritted.

He sighs. “Fine.”

And again, you’re whipped.

Over and over again.

So much so, you could feel the blood trail down your spine and legs.

You knew you’d bleed out before they could get anything out of you. You almost begged for it to happen.

After a week of being whipped and beaten by a wooden so badly it broke, you knew you weren’t making it out alive.

Day after day, the same questions.

“Who do you work for?”

“Why are you here?”

“Where’s your back up?”

And each time, you’d give them nothing. An occasional spit in the Leader’s face but that would result in him slapping you, followed by the larger man’s fists.

By the end of that week, they’d send you to a medic who would treat you, let you heal for a week, and then it would start again.

Two months into it, you began losing hope that you’d ever be found.

Two months in, you were still being tied up to the bar in the ceiling. Occasionally you’d be sat down, given food, only for them to turn you upside down and dunked in water. They’d ripped out your nails, cut your skin, burned your healing back.

And still, nothing from you except for an occasional “fuck you”.

By the end of the third month, you’d come to expect the lashings. You’d come to expect the beatings.

But that last day, you were taken to a clean room. A surgical room. Fear riddled your body, beginning to expect the worst. When a doctor walked in with the Leader and his torturer, you were tied to the bed, your pants pulled down your legs.

“You are leaving,” the Leader tells you. “But not before we leave you with a parting gift.”

His eyes crinkle in what you assumed was him smiling. Behind him, the doctor walks up to you and marks your hip with a blue marker.

“Here is safe,” he tells the torturer.

You hear a machine whir behind him and when he moves, you see the torturer holding a hot stamp. A skull and bones symbol red as a chili pepper is being heated by some sort of portable hot stove.

“No,” you say, quietly at first but louder the closer they get to you. “NO!”

They only laugh. The torturer comes close, before whispering, “This will hurt. Do not move.”

You feel the doctor and the Leader hold your legs in place as the hot stamp finally makes contact with your skin.

You scream, blood curdling and raw. You scream until you can no longer breathe, the scent of burning flesh fills the small room. You feel yourself falling in and out of consciousness, but the doctor wakes you up completely with some smelling salts.

They pull your pants back up before untying you and dragging you out of the room and into a garage before putting a hood on your head. They throw you into the back of a truck before laughing and driving you somewhere.

“You’re lucky we didn’t do more than that with your pants down, girl.” The Leader tells you. “Thank your God we didn’t.”

You only sob. You were sure they were going to kill you. But when they stop and pull you out of the truck, you have to blink when they pull the hood off.

You were in an open field. The sun gloriously kissing your skin and grass whistling in the soft breeze.

They push you to your knees before you hear the cocking of a gun.

“Thank your Admiral for us,” is the last thing they say before shooting up in the air.

It was flare. They shot…a flare.

Instantly, you hear the whirring of a helicopter coming from behind a mountain in front of you. Behind you, the truck doors slam before the two men leave you on your knees, bloodied all over your body, and tears running down your face.

You were going to be okay. You were going to be saved.

So then why did the man’s words echo in your mind?

* * *

“Thank your Admiral for us.”

You woke up with a jolt, someone’s hand was holding yours and you had to fight to free yourself from their grip.

You were sweating, panting for fresh air.

It was just a dream. You’re home, safe.

You tried reasoning with yourself but it was no use. You were panicking, and hard.

Beside you on the floor, Jake sits up, rubbing his eyes before turning to you.

“Hey, did you sleep–”

Jake stops talking when he sees the way you hold your chest, face frozen in panic and breathing rapidly. “What happened?”

“They’re here,” you breathe, staring off into space. “They want me back. They’re gonna kill me this time.”

“Hey, hey,” Jake soothes, squatting beside you. “Breathe.”

“I. Can’t. Breathe.” you sputter. “It’s–oh my god–Jake I can’t–”

“You can,” he tells you. “C’mon, Sweetheart. You’ve got this, just like me.”

He brings one of your hands to his chest, the warm surface clothed in cotton, heart beating under your fingertips. “Feel my heart?”

He grabs your other hand and brings it to your chest, your heart pounding against your hand. “Match my heartbeat, Y/N. You can do it.”

You feel yourself slow down, the world around slowing. Jake’s green eye is the only thing you’re focusing on.

“Count with me,” he goes on. “One.”

“O-one.”

“Two.”

“T-two.”

“Three.”

“Four,” Jake smiles.

“Four,” you smile back.

“Do you feel better?” he asks.

You nod. “Yes, thank you.”

“Did you have another nightmare?” he asks, rubbing the hand on his chest with his thumb.

“Yes,” you tell him, feeling yourself fully relaxed. “It was like a movie.”

“How so?”

“I saw what they did to me in a compilation,” you shudder. “I saw every lashing, every cut, everything.”

“Tell me about it.” Jake’s eyes are soft on you, encouraging you to go on.

“I saw them beat me that first week,” you tell him after a few deep breaths. “They had whipped me and beat me with a wooden bat.”

Jake’s eyes flashed with anger before he nodded for you to go on.

“They-they did that for a month. The next month was the same but this time they let me sit instead of being chained to a bar on the ceiling.” You drop the hand on your chest in your lap, squeezing Jake’s hand in yours.

“They pulled my nails out next and cut my back wounds open again,” you went on. Tears form in your eyes again before you tell him, “The last day of the third month, they branded me. Called it a ‘parting gift’.”

He remembered. The skull and crossbones on your hip.

“They told me to be glad I didn’t get…you know, while my pants were down. That I should thank my God.” You were fully sobbing now. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“They told me to thank my Admiral,” you cried.

Jake let go of your hand before wiping the tears that fell with his thumb. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“That was the only thing I could focus on when the Navy saved me,” you tell him, tears drying. “‘Why would he say that?’, I asked myself. And then it hit me.”

You look up at Jake again before saying, “I think Simpson knew I was going down. Even after I radioed in that I was.”

Jake’s blood runs cold, he wanted to tell you what he knew but wanted you to tell him what you knew first.

“I think that’s why they paid me off,” you continue, tears long gone now. “They must think I know something.”

“Well do you?” he asks, not able to contain the curiosity anymore.

You nod. “I think the weapons they wanted me to bomb were U.S. made and that’s why they sent me to bomb them.”

“Why do it themselves when they can send one pilot to bomb them?” he adds.

“Exactly,” you agree. “That’s why they wouldn’t let Rooster or Phoenix and Bob come with me. They knew I was going down or dying trying to fight my way out.”

“But why keep you for three months?” he asks.

“Who knows why the Navy does what they do,” you sigh. Changing the subject you tell him, “When I got back, I was so broken–physically and emotionally. Maybe that’s what made me an even bigger target to Nick.”

Jake’s spine straightens at his name. “Why’s that?”

“I was a walking target, I had the look of someone who had been through something horrible.” You shake your head and chuckle. “I was so open to wanting someone to show me love and affection, I fell right into his trap.”

You look at him, watching as Jake’s eyes harden before he asks, “What did he do?”

“He was nice,” you start. “At first he was. Asking if I wanted to talk about what happened, then asking if I needed company. He moved in not even two months into knowing him.”

You scoff, remembering how naive you were.

“Rooster hated him the moment I introduced him to him and Nat,” you continued. “He was a lot like you actually.”

“How so?” Jake asks.

“Nice, a ladies man, handsome…” You look away at that last word.

“That’s why you didn’t trust me at first,” he fills in the blanks.

“Yeah.”

“Do you trust me now?” he asks.

You turn to him, a small glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“Yeah, I really do.”

“Why?” Jake asks. “If I’m the same as him, why do you trust me?”

“You never made a move to kiss me the first few times you were with me,” you whisper.

* * *

Jake only stared.

That motherfucker tried to kiss you the first few times he saw you? He was ready to pummel that fucker into the ground if it meant you would never see him again.

You must’ve seen the anger in his eyes because he shakes it away and swallows it down. “I’m you trust me.”

“I am too,” you tell him. “I’ve never told anyone that, about what I suspected with the Navy and with Nick.”

“I’m glad you finally got it out,” he tells you. “I really am. It’s good that you talk about what happened to you.”

“What about you?” You ask. “Has something like that happened to you?”

Jake shakes his head, remembering his old weapon system officer. “Not me, but my old back seater.”

“What happened?”

He’d told this story twice in his life. Once at court after everything happened and the second time to Lt. Addams’ parents.

“We were sent to bomb some important buildings in Afghanistan,” he starts. “They held all sorts of jets and weapons that could’ve comprised the U.S. military that were stationed there. So they sent Lieutenant Addams and I—that was my partner’s name.”

He smiles to himself.

“He was my best friend,” he continues. “I grew up with him and we joined the Navy together and then eventually flight school and so on.”

He looks up at you, watching as you listen so intently, you’re practically holding your breath.

“Well, we got into a disagreement,” Jake tells you. “He wanted to take things slow and I wanted to speed up, elimisome time from our arrival time.”

He takes a deep but shaky breath before looking away, down at the hands he held in your lap. He takes his time, caressing each of your knuckles, examining the small scars on your right hand. He flips your hands over to see your smooth palms, coated in light sweat.

“I went faster and didn’t anticipate the upcoming turn,” he goes on. “It was too late. I was too late. I should’ve died but I yelled for him to eject and I thought he was coming with me. But he—”

Jake’s breath hitched in his throat as an angry sob trickled up instead. He blows out a few breaths before looking up at you with tearful eyes.

“He didn’t eject in time.”

“Oh Jake,” you start.

“I should’ve listened to him,” he tells you. Then quietly he adds, “It should’ve been me.”

“Jake,” you start.

He feels your hands let go of his and move to his cheeks, you tilt his head up to face you before saying, “You are exactly where you need to be. If you weren’t here, I’d probably still be dealing with Nick. Or worse.”

Jake’s eyes glisten with tears, hearing you say that means so much to him. Being able to definitely say that he was a hero for you, meant that his mistake with Addams was paid back in full.

Because it may not have been Addams, but it was someone else who needed his help the most.

“You’re exactly the person I needed when I least expected,” you go on. “I know it hasn’t been long but I do think of you as a good friend. Thank you, for everything.”

He smiles up at you. This beautiful woman before him was a fighter, and he damn well deserved to be here—even just for her.

A knock on the door startles you both out of the mini staring contest you were in, making Jake turn in the direction of the front door.

He checks his watch which reads 2:45 AM.

“Who could be here so early in the morning?” He asks.

Before you even get to answer, you both hear pounding on the door. Jake feels you freeze, terror paralyzing you into speechlessness.

“Y/N!” He hears Nick yell. “Get your sorry ass out here! We’re going home.”

“How did he find my house?” Jake asks himself.

“He must’ve followed us home after we left Hard Deck.” You answer.

Jake looks at you, taking your hands in his again. “Go into my room, there’s a box under my bed. The code is 07-12-89. There’s a gun in there, just in case you need to use it.”

“What about you?”

Jake looks at you like it’s the last time he’ll see you. He tries to memorize your eyes, the way your lips pull back when you smile. He brushes a strand of your hair back before smiling at you.

“I’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”

When Nick pounds on the door again, Jake points for you to be quiet and go to his room. You obey, running as quietly and quickly as you can.

Once Jake is sure you’re safe, he calmly walks to the front door, opening it just as Nick was about to pound on it again.

“Can I help you?” Jake asks.

“Yeah,” Nick says, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “I’m looking for my girlfriend. She’s in there.”

“Girlfriend?” Jake pretends to think. “Wait, I thought you were single.”

Nick angrily grunts before adding, “No, she’s confused. She’s sick in the head.”

“Well if that’s the case, she’s definitely not here,” Jake smiles. “I only allow sane people in my house.”

“Then let me in to look for her,” Nick drawls.

“No can do, buddy,” Jake says, blocking Nick when he makes a move to enter the house. “See, I don’t know you and you w already tried to kick my ass earlier today—well, yesterday. So that’s a hard no from me.”

Nick frowns in anger, face contorting into something ungodly. “Let me in. I saw her go into the house.”

Jake’s heart was pounding.

Not because he was scared, but because he was furious. Why can’t this guy just get the hint?

“Dude, even if she was here,” Jake starts. “She doesn’t wanna see you. So, take the hint.”

“Who the hell even are you?” Nick asks, pushing Jake back a bit.

“I’m just a guy who doesn’t like the way you’ve been treating Y/N,” Jake states. “And quite frankly, I don’t want you in my property so get the fuck off my porch and go home.”

“I don’t think so,” Nick seethes. “I want her and only her. So get her out here or I’m burning your house to the ground.”

“Those are some strong words for someone who’s worked really hard to become a pilot,” Jake smiles. “Do you really wanna throw that all away for some girl?”

Nick seems to ponder his words, brows furrowing in thought.

“Because that’s what? Two years of your life down the drain? And for what? A girl who doesn’t even want you?” Jake continues. “Is she really worth it all?”

Nick’s eyes focus on something behind him and Jake doesn’t even need to turn around to know who he’s looking at.

“Y/N,” Nick says. “Let’s go.”

Jake turns around to see you standing there, head held high, body squared, and feet planted. You look like the woman you once were, the one he’d seen pictures of in the Top Gun classroom and halls.

Strong and bold. Confidence radiating from your glossy bronzed skin.

You weren’t scared, and you made sure Jake and Nick knew it.

“I’m not leaving with you,” you say firmly.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘No’?” Nick bellows. “You’re coming home with me and we’re gonna talk about…us.”

“No,” you say, pushing past Jake and squaring up to Nick. “You’re going home and I’m staying here. You’re not good for me.”

“What? And he is?”

“Yes,” you say simply, catching Nick off guard. “He’s good for me. He and my friends, the ones you tried to keep me away from.”

Nick scoffs at that, rolling his eyes.

“What do you want? My apartment? You can have it,” you say, tossing your keys at him. “But what you can’t have is me. I’m done, I’ve been done for a long time, Nick. From the first time you put hands on me, to the last time you did. You will not hurt me again. So get off his porch and go home.”

Nick stares at you incredulously—Jake does too. He knew you’d finally had a breakthrough and was prepared to do anything to get Nick out of your life. Even if that meant standing up for yourself and doing the scariest thing you could ever do.

Confront him.

With a swipe at his face, Nick shakes his head before slapping you across the face. Your head turns but your body doesn’t move.

“You made a mistake,” Nick says darkly.

“No,” you say. “You made a mistake.”

You point behind Nick, where two officers, Bradley, and Natasha stand.

“Goodbye, Nick.”

* * *

2 months later

It’s been a fairly good two months. You’d been living with Jake since that night. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to your lonely apartment. And besides, you liked living with Jake.

Every morning since that night, Jake has made a point to leave you notes on the fridge, telling you when to expect him home. Granted, you’d be at work. But it’s the thought that counts.

Nick was kicked out of the Navy and served a few months in jail for the assaults he committed in the week before his arrest. You were also granted a permanent protection order against him.

Life was starting to look up.

You’d been hearing nicely, emotionally at least. You even told your therapist everything you told Jake.

The only thing you worried about now was whether or not Jake was going out on a date on weekends.

You hated to admit it, but I fell for him. And hard.

You didn’t want to, but the way he treated you was so different to what you’d ever experienced, you couldn’t help yourself.

But it seemed like Jake went back to his man-whore ways. You’d be at work and glance over to where he and the rest of the group were to see him all over a new girl each week.

You tried not to let it get to you, but it still did.

You figured you’d use this time to heal yourself—better yourself. You’d get to be as great as you could be so that when—and if—Jake wanted you, you’d be ready.

So now, you’d focus on you. Until the time was right.

Because even though it wasn’t meant to be right now, you knew it was meant to be. Otherwise, why would he leave you flowers and notes everyday? No man who wasn’t fawning over a woman would ever do that.

And yeah, there was a little voice in the back of your head that says maybe he’s just trying to be nice…but why do all that?

Either way, you were doing what was best for you. Because you owed it to yourself to do it.

No matter the outcome.

For now, you would go to work, go to your weekly therapy sessions, and smile at the life you get to live.

But that’s exactly what you get to do.

Live.

* * *

Jake’s date for the week smiled up at him as she attempted to seem hotter than she was. He’d brought her to Hard Deck to meet the group but now, he kinda didn’t want her around.

She smelled too sweet, she laughed a little too loud, and she just felt…wrong.

She wasn’t his Bullseye.

Not his. But his.

You’d just brought over a round of beers and were talking to Natasha when your date tapped on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I don’t drink beer. Can I have a white wine?” She says, rudely snapping at you to hurry. “Chop chop.”

Bradley’s eyes widen and he takes a long swig of his wet before looking at Jake with a wild expression.

“Sure,” you say. Jake watches as you take the beer, glancing his way with a dissatisfied expression.

She’s gonna rip me a new one later.

“Why don’t I get it for you?” Jake suggests. “Just in case.”

“Oh, Jakey,” his date says. “That'd be great. But honestly, we can just leave. This place is dingy and old.”

Behind her, Natasha and Bob’s mouths fall open, Coyote and Payback following suit. Bradley only cackles, making his date turn around in annoyance and Bradley turn around to avoid her gaze.

“So Jakey,” Bradley starts. “Are you leaving or are you staying?”

Jake looks at Bradley, then his date, and lastly you at the bar. You were serving Maverick a beer and smiling at something he said.

You were beautiful tonight. Your hair was curled and half tied up in a white bow, a white linen shirt and jeans your uniform for the night.

As if feeling his eyes on you, your turn just in time to catch him smiling at you before he turns to his date.

“You know what,” he starts. “I think I’m gonna stay.”

Bradley smiles. “Good choice.”

Next part

A/N: Thank you for being patient with me. I had a hard time with this chapter mainly because I wanted it to be sensitive but also raw. So thank you for reading it if you read it. And remember that there’s always someone out there that loves you 💗

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

#glen powell #fanfic #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #glen powell x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #latina reader #hangman x rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun hangman

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