Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The warm summer breeze floated through the headmaster’s office window and disrupted a pile of loose paperwork causing them to be tossed to the floor. Professor Xavier looked away from his desktop and eyed the sudden mess. Closing his eyes and bringing two fingers to his temple, the scattered papers gracefully rose from the floor and shuffled themselves back into order. With his mind, he directed the stack to land perfectly on his desk with a paperweight placed on top. 

He blinked his eyes to focus and brought his raised hand back to his keyboard. It was the eve of summer break at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngers and the sun was sitting low in the sky. Professor Charles Xavier was writing his bi-annual email to his students. He did this before every break, congratulating them on a great semester, wishing them peace and happiness, and asking them to please use their powers wisely while away. He wasn’t sure how many students read his email, but he always wanted them to know how much he cared about them. Lost in his writing, a swift knock distracted him and his heavy office doors swung open. 

“Chuck… we have some stragglers.” Logan barged into the headmaster’s office with furrowed brows and his signature underbite snarl. “I was doing my rounds, making sure everyone has moved out of their dorms, but I found these four with empty boxes and fiddling around on their phones.” Logan peered over his shoulder and cleared his throat. Four gifted youngsters filed into Professor Xavier’s office.

“Remy, Jubilation, Laura, Anna Marie.” Professor Xavier greeted them with his familiar, warm voice. “Tomorrow is summer break, why haven’t you packed your belongings?”

With wide eyes, the teens shuffled their bodies and murmured to each other, gesturing for either to talk. Logan grunted and narrowed his eyes at Anna Marie, nominating her to speak.

“Professor,” Anna Marie swallowed and held her arm across her chest. Her eyes darted from her friends to Logan, the professor, and down to the floor. “We don’t wanna go home.”

Remy, Jubilee, and Laura stood close to each other, waiting to hear the professor’s decision. 

“Then stay.” Professor Xavier smiled. “You are welcome to spend your summer break here on the property. This will always be your home.” 

The teens collectively sighed and Jubilee threw her hands into the air in celebration. Tiny sparkles of silver light zipped around them as the four hugged each other. The young mutants were relieved, but Logan glared at Professor Xavior with clenched teeth. 

‘Chuck, I’m not here to babysit, I wanted a break too…’ Logan thought, knowing Professor Xavier could hear him.

‘Logan, please. It’s not like you were going anywhere.’ The professor smiled and gave him a cheeky nod.

“Students, why don’t you return to your rooms and settle in.” Professor Xavier said out loud. “Logan, why don’t you let Hank and Ororo know these four are spending their summer break with us.” 

Logan reluctantly nodded in agreement and left the office, leaving the professor with the excitable teens. Logan does care for his students, but after teaching history and combat for the last 6 months straight, he was looking for some quiet around the house. 

He strolled down the long hallway and turned the corner to enter Hank’s lab. Knocking on the door, he waited to hear Hank’s baritone voice to welcome him in. He waited a moment and knocked again, this time louder. Inside the room, he could hear a chair slide against the floor and Hank called for him to enter.

Standing at his desk, Dr. Hank McCoy removed his wireframe glasses and smiled at Logan. With one blue furry paw, Hank ushered Logan to take a seat across from him and used the other to move a large textbook out of the way.

“Logan, always so nice to see you,” Hank said with a big toothy grin. They had been friends for years, but Logan was always taken aback that his scientist colleague had large canine bottom teeth. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to let you know a few students are staying here during the summer break. Rogue, Gambit, Jubilee, and Laura.” Logan leaned back into his chair. “You’re staying for the summer as well, yeah?”

“Oh, that is just wonderful!” Hank was elated and clapped his paws together. “I was planning on doing some solo research over the break, but if I could have a few extra lab assistants around to help me, that would be grand!”

“Hank,” Logan crossed his arms across his chest and gave his colleague a look of skepticism. “These kids are not going to want to study or learn anything over this break. They’re probably going to fuck around on their phones and make us drive them around or some shit.” Hank’s raised his eyebrows in bewilderment.

“Well, there is science everywhere my dear friend,” Hank replied. “Maybe they will get bored enough to stumble into my office and become enlightened by something I am working on.”

“We’ll see about that.” Logan smiled as he rose from his chair. “I should go tell Ororo. See you at dinner?” Hank put on his glasses and responded with an "uh-huh," shifting his attention to the large textbook on his desk. Logan rapped his knuckles on Hank’s desk and exited the lab. 

Logan continued down the long hallway towards the staff apartment suites. The suites were larger than the student dorms, and farther away to provide privacy. The doors of the instructor’s suites were left open to let others know they had left for the summer break, but a certain suite’s door was closed. Logan slowed down as a familiar curious scent caught his attention– Jean Grey.

Jean Grey and Scott Summers, the iconic sweethearts from Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, were married and currently live in their own little happily ever after. After graduating, they joined the staff at their alma mater and now reside together on the property. When Logan met them many years ago, he fell for Jean but quickly discovered she was already with Scott. He respected his classmates and now colleagues, but the little ache in his heart still flinches whenever he sees them together.

Logan opened their front door and scanned the room to find it empty, just as the couple left it. Inhaling deeply, Jean’s scent was strong enough as if she just exited the room. He was confused as the couple had left a few days before to visit Rome, Paris, or some other romantic city couples go to. Logan couldn’t remember and he tried not to care. 

Tracking the scent, Logan found the culprit on the counter of the master bathroom: Jean’s forgotten hairbrush. He picked it up to examine the wispy red hairs tangled in the bristles. How could something so gentle and frail cause him to stop in his tracks? He placed the hairbrush on the vanity and looked at himself in the mirror. Had his animalistic instincts gone soft? Was he leading with his heart and not from the animal within? She wore the same perfume since he first met her: Jasmine, bergamot, and pink peppercorn.

Suddenly another scent wafted into the room. It was a gross musky combination of gunpowder, body odor, and cheap teen body spray. His nose crinkled as he instantly recognized who it was. Rolling his shoulders back, he exited the bathroom and unsheathed his claws. 

“Wade, why the fuck are you here?” Logan called out as he found Deadpool propped up in Jean and Scott’s bed. His fingers were laced behind his masked head and his dirty boots were firmly placed on their white linen comforter. 

“Aww Wolvie!” Wade sang and threw his hands into the air. “It's been my dream to spend the summer at Professor Xavier's Camp Runamok! I never had the opportunity to go to summer camp in upstate New York. Shit, I never had the opportunity to go to summer camp, period!”

“Shut it, mouth!” Logan barked. “Get out and go find another bed.”

“I tried! Colossus’ bed was toooo big! And the student beds are toooo small! But this one is juuust right!” Wade sprawled across the bed, mimicking Kate Winslet's iconic pose from the multi-award-winning film Titanic (1997). “It’s the perfect size for you to take me to pound-town too!”

Logan rolled his eyes and groaned. Thrusting his fist to Wade’s face, he resisted the temptation to thrust his claws into Wade’s skull. He would be able explain the boot marks on the comforter to Jean and Scott, but not bloodstains. 

“Listen here, bub,” Logan growled as Wade leaned in so his nose touched the tip of Logan’s claws. “You can stay here under two conditions. One, don’t fuck up Jean and Scott’s room. And two, stay out of the fucking way. And go take a shower, you smell like fucking shit.”

“Thanks, Logie, but you said three things! Can I pick the two?” An outline of a Cheshire cat smile grew beneath Wade’s mask as he watched Logan walk away. “Peanut? Baby, come back!”

Logan groaned as he exited Jean and Scott’s room. He could hear Wade jumping on the bed and screaming some pop song the girls always sing in the hallways. He wanted to hate Wade, but Wade was a hell of a fighter and had a knack for making him laugh. Wade always made gay jokes to make Logan uncomfortable, but one of these days he wanted to take him up on the offer to see what Wade would do. “Stupid harlequin of a man,” Logan said under his breath and smiled on his way to Ororo’s suite.

When he approached Ororo’s door, he felt his stomach twist and heart beat quickly. Why was he suddenly feeling so nervous? Logan stood up straight and adjusted his shirt. He ran his fingers through his hair, but his signature tufts stayed. He wiped his face and beard and prayed his breath didn’t stink. Once he felt ready, Logan cleared his throat and knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Ororo’s voice was soft yet assertive. Logan opened the door to find Storm lounging on her daybed with a book in her lap. Her long silver hair draped over her shoulders and covered the front of her silk top. Her room was cloaked in a gentle darkness, with warm, glowing lamps casting soft amber light across the walls. The air was rich with the earthy scent of patchouli and the fresh, clean aroma of a recent rainstorm.

“Hello Ororo,” Logan spoke in a hushed tone. Mystified by her presence, her light-colored eyes met his and Logan’s neck and cheeks began to feel hot. “Is it warm in here, or just me?” He laughed as he pulled on the collar of his shirt. Ororo smiled softly and squinted her eyes. 

“It’s just you.” She replied. She always thought he was a charming, curious little thing. “What brings you by?” 

Logan watched as she placed her book beside her and rose from her daybed. Something was in the way her body moved toward him. She was elegant, and every step was purposeful. She wanted him to know she commanded the room, but he was a welcomed guest. She batted her lashes at Logan, and he realized he had never replied to her question.

“Oh,” He chuckled under his breath and scratched the back of his neck. “Just wanted to let you know that some students want to stay at the house during the summer. Xavier approved it.”

“Awh, that is too sweet.” Ororo moved her body closer to Logan. She was taller than him, but she thought it was cute. “Are you staying here as well? Or is the north calling you home?”

“I’ll stay here to help with the kids.” Logan nodded his head with confidence and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on them, ya know.” 

“And you’re great at doing that.” Placing her hand on his arm, Storm playfully squeezed his bicep. Electricity zipped across Logan’s skin and down his spine. Maybe it was jitters, or perhaps it was her powers. But in the end, Logan knew she was making him feel some sort of way.

“Maybe you can visit home another time.” She continued, and Logan nodded in agreement. “And maybe next time I’ll come with you?”

“Yeah,” Logan felt flustered and turned his head to hide his smile. “I’d like that a lot.” 

“In the meantime, I’m excited to spend more time with you this summer,” Ororo said as she walked back to her daybed and sat down. “I need to freshen up. See you at dinner?”

All Logan could do was nod his head and smile like an idiot. Spending the summer with Storm would make it all worthwhile. He tried to say something back to her, but the words that left his mouth were all jumbled. He opted for an awkward wave and left her room. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Sitting at the end of the large dining room table, Professor Xavier cleared his throat and held a glass of wine to toast his staff and students. Fresh garlic bread, salad, and spaghetti with meatballs sat in the center of the table, waiting to be served.

“Welcome, students, to summer break at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters! Because you will not have class, you will have much more free time. I encourage you to explore and enjoy this beautiful property, but I’d love to set some ground rules.” 

“ Putain !” Remy swore under his breath. 

“Language, kid.” Logan glared at the Cajun. Remy rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. 

“Thank you, Logan.” Professor Xavier nodded and continued. “For rules, let’s keep it simple. The instructors at this table will be staying here during the summer break. To coexist, please be mindful of each other’s spaces, as your instructors are on vacation too. Please clean up after yourself, and don’t do anything stupid.” 

“That sounds pretty simple to me,” Logan raised his pint to toast the professor. “Is everyone in agreement?” Everyone lifted their drinks into the air and clinked their glasses in approval. 

“Let’s eat!” Hank said as he reached for a large serving bowl of spaghetti and began to fill his plate.

The energy around the dinner table was delightful. Laura sat quietly in between Logan and Hank, carefully listening to recent findings the scientist had discovered. Logan on the other hand was distracted by Ororo seated in front of him. She sat next to the professor and the two chatted about her classes. He didn’t want to intrude on their conversation, but he loved how she spoke fondly about her students. Anna Marie and Jubilee sat with each other and giggled over an inside joke. Remy sat across from Anna Marie, and his curious dark eyes met hers while taking a sip. Without speaking, she felt the warmth rise to their cheeks.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun this summer, I can feel it!” Jubilee spoke with her mouth full and looked around the table. All the mutants were in good spirits enjoying their meal. Anna Marie paused before replying, momentarily distracted by the Cajun's cheeky wink and smirk. 

“Yeah, I can feel it too.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

— Deadpool’s Log, star date: summa'time!

Twas the night before summer break and all through the house, not a mutant was stirring, not even The Mouse. Spaghetti sat in the kitchen fridge with care, in hopes Deadpool would soon be there. FUCK I’m so hungry!! Don’t tell anyone but I’m the one eating the leftovers. Blame it on Beast, or Logan. Thanks!!

Chapter Text

“Laura, you knock,” Rogue whispered.

“No you,” Laura shook her head curtly. 

“Yeah, but he’s your dad,” Jubilee chimed in.

“I mean, kind of. But not really?” Laura crossed her arms in defense.

“Yes, he is, Laura!” Jubilee retorted. “C’mon! Just do it!” 

Logan had been awake for some time, but his eyes remained closed as the girls bickered at the front door of his apartment suite. During the school year, students would often show up late to their first class, always blaming it on sleeping through their alarm. But were these kids a special breed, waking up early during summer break? 

Someone softly knocked on his door, but he didn't move a muscle. He squeezed his eyes shut and considered waiting to see how long they would continue to pester him. The knocking stopped, but the teens continued to argue on the other side.

“Maybe he’s not in there?” Rogue turned to her friends with a concerned look. 

Laura leaned her nose into the doorframe and inhaled. “No, he’s in there. I can smell him.” 

“Ew, you can smell him?” Jubilee gagged, dramatically placing her hands around her neck to choke. 

“I have a keen sense of smell, ok?” Laura’s eyes narrowed at Jubilee. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“She’s not making fun of you, sugah.” Rogue placed her gloved hand on Laura’s shoulder, but Laura jerked her away.

“You know what?” Laura sneered. “You smell too, Jubilee. You smell like a baby prostitute.”

“Okay, now you’re just being rude, Laura!” Jubilee barked as tiny red sparks began to form around her balled fist.

-SNIKT-

Logan jolted out of bed at the sound of Laura’s claws. He threw open the door and the teens shuffled backward as they were greeted by Logan’s snarl and chest huffing in irritation.

“Wh-Wh-What do you, why are you all here? It’s 7 AM on summer break for fucks sake!” Logan sputtered. “Laura put those away. And Jubilee, stop doing that sparkly thing.” Jubilee crossed her arms begrudgingly. A small spark snuck from her fists and sputtered above her, and Laura huffed in frustration.

“Logan,” Rogue leaned forward towards him, batted her lashes, and made sure her southern drawl was extra sweet and syrupy. “We were wonderin’, could you take us to ShopMart?”

Logan gave the girls a blank look. He couldn’t believe they were serious enough to wake him up for something as frivolous as a trip to the store. He let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry.” Rogue continued, nervously looking back and forth to her friends. “I, we, need to get some stuff.” The girls nodded in agreement and began to speak over each other. Fuzzy socks, phone charger, hot cheesey chips, lip oil, the new The Lovers Realm book.  

“Alright, fine.” He raised his voice to speak over the girls. “If you all leave me alone for the rest of the day, I’ll take you all to the store. I’ll meet you all out front in an hour. And if you’re not there, you’re not going.”

The girls cheered with excitement and ran down the hallway to their bedrooms. Logan rolled his eyes at their simple needs and closed the door. Grabbing his phone, he texted his colleagues.

═════ Group Message ═════

[Logan]: Taking the teens to the store. Does anyone need anything?

[Chuck]: Thank you, Logan. All good here!

[Hank]: Are you stopping by the hardware store? Can you pick up three, 1/4 in. 1 ft. round aluminum tubes? I will send you a link to exactly what I need…

[Logan]: Hank, you’re on your own for that one...

[Hank]: Ok thx

[Logan]: Storm?

[Ororo]: Something sweet please, thank you!

══════════════════

Logan had survived multiple injuries that would be fatal to a human. He had fought the most dangerous enemies, both human and mutant. He had endured frigid northern winters, war, and even death. But why did sheer panic shoot down his spine when he read Ororo’s text? A sweet something could mean anything to a woman. He debated asking for more specifics, but he didn't want to bother her. She was the last to reply in the chat; maybe she was busy when he first texted. Can Charles read his frazzled mind from here? Why was he so nervous? He quickly fumbled around on his emoji keyboard and replied with a simple thumbs-up.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” Gambit greeted Rogue with an infectious smile, his back pressed against her bedroom door. Between his fingers, he flipped a playing card that glowed with a pink hue.

Remy and Anna Marie found comfort in their shared southern charm and quickly became friends. But the warm upstate summer wind cast its spell on them, and something romantic quickly blossomed. They found themselves irresistibly drawn to each other, and the lazy days of summer encouraged playful banter and stolen glances. Their chemistry was undeniable, and they both secretly hoped for a carefree summer fling. 

“We’re goin’ to ShopMart, d’ya wanna come with?” Rogue replied as she leaned in, holding her body close to his. They didn't need to touch to feel the energy building between them, though they ached for the forbidden feeling of her skin against his.

“Mon chérie, I’d love to.” He bit his bottom lip and curled his lips into a smile. A shiver ran over Rogue's skin and she yearned to place a kiss against his. Reaching her arm around his waist, Gambit was ready to embrace in a hug, but Rogue quickly turned the doorknob on her bedroom door, letting Gambit fall backward.  

“Well, you betta get up! We’re leaving soon!” she giggled, stepping over him. Gambit reached out to grab her, but he playfully pretended she was too hot to touch. He couldn’t hide it, he was hopelessly infatuated with her. His smile grew as brought himself to his feet and followed her to the car. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Wallet, car keys, phone. Logan checked his pockets and closed the door to his suite. His mind was still preoccupied with what Ororo meant by ‘something sweet’. He wanted to bring her back something to let her know he fancies her, but nothing too flashy or extravagant. This wasn’t his first courtship—hell, he’s been on this godforsaken earth for over a hundred years and he’s been with multiple women. But this was a pursuit he wanted to pursue with care and attention. He continued to wrestle with why he was getting so worked up over 'something sweet,' until he heard a loud whisper catch his attention.

“Logie… Logie… Logan!” Deadpool's red hood popped out of Jean and Scott’s bedroom. “Can you pick some stuff up for me at the store?”

“Only if it keeps you from bothering me.” Logan rolled his eyes as he approached. Wade squealed in excitement and ducked into the bedroom. Logan could hear him scrambling around the apartment suite and reemerged with a crumpled piece of paper with a list written in pink gel pen. Handing it over, Logan brought the list up to view and read it out loud.

“6-pack of Coke Zero. 120-count of dinosaur chicken nuggets. Hemorrhoid cream. Warming lube. Cucumber, large. Oh, fuck off Wade!” Logan shoved Deadpool into the doorframe. His claws were itching to be extended.

“But daddy, I’m hungry!” Deadpool teased. Balling his hands into fists, he brought them to his face to fake cry. He knew all the right buttons to press to piss off Logan. “Can you pluueeaasee get me something?”

“I’m so tired of you,” Logan sneered as he crushed the shopping list in his hand and threw it into Deadpool’s chest. Turning to leave, Logan ignored Wade’s giggling and replied with a middle finger over his shoulder. “If I’m buying you anything it’s soap because you still fucking stink!”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Logan had led multiple students through real-life missions in the Danger Room, but that couldn't compare to the frenzy of taking four teens to ShopMart with just one shopping cart. When they entered the store, they were greeted by the large, flashing TVs and the loudspeaker systems of the electronics department. Logan gritted his teeth and followed the teens down the aisles. The teens dispersed as Rogue and Jubilee looked at cellphones, Laura grabbed herself a new phone charger, and Gambit pulled Logan aside. 

“Logan, we really need one of those," Gambit remarked, gesturing toward a PlayStation in a locked display case. 

“What is it? A Gameboy?” Logan’s eyes narrowed as he examined the packaging. “Xavier would kill me if I bought one. And it’s summertime, you kids need to be outside, not wasting away in front of the television.”

“You’re such an old man!” Gambit groaned as he crossed his arms across his chest. Logan huffed and continued to push the cart. 

The girls dragged him through the beauty section and took their time reviewing every new skincare, makeup, and hair product available. Gambit was smart and left them to their research, leaving Logan as the only male in the aisle. He was charmed as he watched the girls chat amongst themselves, holding up different shades of lip gloss to their cheeks to see if it was their color. But, as the color analysis and smelling of body lotions dragged on, he found himself also reading the literature on the back of a body wash bottle. Stumbling across a heavy-duty, antibacterial lavender-mint scented soap, he chuckled to himself as he slipped it into the cart for Wade.

Gambit finally returned with a party-sized bag of chips in hand. Playfully tossing the bag into the cart as if he were a point guard going for a three, but his plan went awry as the bag suddenly glowed neon pink in midair. Everyone's face froze as the kinetically charged bag of cheese-flavored tortilla chips quickly descended toward the cart. Jumping into action, Logan pushed the girls and the cart out of the way just in time as a shrapnel of tortilla chips and smoke billowed into the air. When the blast cloud of cheese dust settled, a store associate stood at the end of the aisle, shocked by what they found.

“Uh,” Gambit shrugged with a guilty smile. “Clean up on aisle 10?” Furious, Logan grabbed Gambit by his coat collar and dragged him into the next aisle, and the girls quickly followed. 

Leading the teens into the grocery area, he let them pillage the chips and candy shelves, adding whatever treats they desired to the cart, distracting them from his mission of finding something sweet for Ororo. He moved past the gummy bears and sour candies to the more mature palate of imported Belgian chocolate. Thinking of what could pair well, he turned the corner into the alcohol aisle. He strolled the shelves, looking for the perfect bottle of wine to complement his sweet gift. Finding a match, he reached for a bottle of cabernet sauvignon.

“You never drink wine,” Laura said, approaching the other Wolverine from behind.

“And why is that any of your business?” Intrigued, Logan turned around and raised an eyebrow in response. She was telling the truth, as beer or whiskey was his preferred drink of choice.

“I’m just observant.”  She smiled devilishly as she eyed the bar of chocolate in his other hand. “Who’s that for?” 

“None of your business.” He replied coyly as he returned to place the bottle of wine and chocolate into the overfilled cart. 

“Logan, are you going to share that wine?” Gambit jokingly asked, taking the reins of the cart and began pushing it.

“You’re already on thin ice, bub,” Logan growled as he grabbed a case of Coke Zero and held it under his arm. Laura raised her eyebrows in curiosity, and Logan ignored her.  

“So, does that mean buying beer for us is out of the question?” Gambit continued, toeing the line between joking around and pushing Logan’s buttons. Feeling cocky, he looked at the girls for gratification. They laughed at him, but it was also out of nervousness of him poking the Wolverine.

═════ Message ═════

[Remy]: Hey Kurt, you up?

[Kurt]: Guten tag, mien chérie lol. 

[Kurt]: Yes I am awake… What’s up?

[Remy]: How do you feel about teleporting your little blue butt over here tomorrow? Come hang out with me, Laura, Anna Marie, and Jubilee.

[Kurt]: At the mansion? I’d love to! 

[Remy]: Awesomeeee. 

[Remy]: And can you bring beer? Maybe something stronger too?

[Kurt]: Jaaaa lol see you tomorrow

[Remy]: Don’t tell the girls, it’ll be a surprise! 

═══════════════

“Your total is $324.78. Will that be cash or card?” The cashier asked as she placed the final items into a plastic bag. Logan’s eyes went wide at the final price. He turned to the teens as he reached for his wallet, but they all were engrossed in their phones. Rolling his eyes, Logan pulled out his credit card to pay and collected the receipt. He’d have to get it reimbursed by the professor.

“Can I get a thank you?” Logan said as he pushed the overflowing cart through the parking lot. 

“Thank you, Logan!” The teens responded cheerfully. What would they do without him?

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

— Deadpool’s Log, star date: after-hours

[Male British Voice Over]: The sun had set over the savanna and it was now time for our favorite red merc to begin the hunt for his evening meal. Carefully exiting his cave, he deliberately placed each step to move silently and quickly to his destination—the kitchen. But this plan was thwarted as he tripped and fell over a case of Coke Zero and a bottle of body soap. A note was carefully placed for him to find. Written in black marker, all it said was,

' xo, L '

“Oh Logan, you dog!”

Chapter Text

During the school year, the mansion’s entrance hall was a bustling space full of students. Whether they were running to classes, catching up with friends, or meeting with their teachers, it was rare to find the great room empty. The sound of laughter, chatter, and hurried footsteps would fill the air, creating a lively atmosphere that echoed through the halls.

Today, however, the only movement in the room came from small specks of dust floating in the air, sparkling in the sun’s rays. The foyer was quiet and undisturbed, with an almost eerie calmness. Only Professor Xavier passed through occasionally, moving silently as he entered and exited his office throughout the day. The usual vibrant space now felt like a serene, peaceful corner of the mansion, a stark contrast to its usual energetic state.

The sound of a loud pop broke the silence, and a large, dusty cloud of blue filled the room. Fanning the fog away from his face, Kurt Wagner placed his backpack on the ground in front of him. He took a moment to stand and look around, a warm feeling of homecoming filled his heart. He had never been in the entryway when it was so quiet and empty; the divine peace reminded him of the cathedrals at home in Germany. The mansion was not a place of worship, but it was his place for salvation. Kurt closed his eyes and let the sunbeams through the tall windows bless him. 

“Hello there, Kurt!” The peaceful moment was quickly interrupted by Professor Xavier, wheeling himself across the foyer to his office. “What a nice surprise.”

“Hallo, Professor,” Kurt replied with a timid smile and a three-fingered wave. Xavier took a moment to examine Kurt. Golden yellow eyes, dark blue fur, tousled short hair, and his signature forked tail swayed behind him. The silence between them felt like forever to Kurt and the uncomfortable feeling of awkwardness made his body hot. “Sooo,” Kurt continued.

“Back so soon?” Professor Xavier quickly realized he cut off his student, but Kurt nodded for him to continue. “Is everything alright back home in Germany?”

“Oh, yes, everything is fine.” Kurt laughed nervously as his tail began to curl under his legs. “I thought it would be fun to surprise Rogue.”

“You have always been so kind, my dear Nightcrawler.” Xavier smiled in appreciation, but the way the professor squinted his eyes told Kurt he knew something more. “I am assuming you know Gambit, Laura, and Jubilee are also here?”

“Ja, ja!” Kurt stuttered. “I… I should go find them.” With his heart thumping against his ribcage, he clumsily grabbed his backpack at his feet. As he lifted it to his shoulder, the clinking sound of beer bottles could be heard from within. Kurt’s body froze in shame as he turned his eyes to meet the professor.

“Did you bring something to share with your friends?” With eyebrows raised with amusement, Professor Xavier couldn’t help but reply with a puckish smile.

Confused and worried that he was about to get in trouble, Kurt nodded truthfully. 

The professor gave him a kind-hearted wink. “Please be responsible, my dear boy.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“Oh Kurt, you don’t understand how happy I am to see you!” Rogue squealed as she wrapped him in her arms. 

She was so thrilled to see her friend that she pushed off the ground and floated alongside him a few feet in the air. They vanished into a cloud of smoke and reappeared just above the treetops. Rogue and Nightcrawler giggled joyfully as gravity quickly pulled them downwards, but they landed softly under Rogue’s control. Their laughter was contagious, and the other teens soon joined the fun. Like a cowboy with finger-guns, Jubilee aimed and shot yellow and red flares into the sky. Gambit joined her, tossing kinetically charged playing cards that exploded beside Jubilee's fireworks. Laura smiled along, but she couldn’t help feeling left out.

It was after dinner when the teens returned to Gambit’s room to partake in the illicit activity of underage drinking. Kurt had brought German beers for them to try, with additional hard liquor for later. One beer each turned into two, and two led to three. The brilliant idea of exploring the grounds came up after the third beer, and the hard liquor also joined the adventure. Rogue, Jubilee, Gambit, and Kurt felt the playful buzz somewhere between tipsy and drunk, but Laura couldn’t say she felt the same.

Laura held on to the liquor bottle as her classmates played among the treetops. She took a swig and winced at the strong licorice taste. Being a mutant in this world was alienating enough, but having an ability unlike her friends made her feel even more alone. She couldn’t teleport or fly, and she definitely couldn’t make things explode. Laura glanced at the two prominent scars between her knuckles. She squeezed her fist, allowing the tips of her blades to poke through her skin. Blood began to pool around the sharp, silver points, but the wounds quickly healed. Laura realized why she didn’t feel as drunk as her friends—her healing factor was keeping her sober. " This is so fucking so lame, " she thought to herself. 

After a tipsy trek through the acres of trees, the teens discovered a secluded grove and decided it was the ideal place to settle in. Laura used her claws to break down branches and gather wood, while Gambit clumsily arranged a makeshift fire pit using found rocks. Kurt and Jubilee emptied the backpack full of beer and snacks and began passing around a bag of chips and the square-shaped liquor bottle for everyone to drink. The grove was a serene quiet until Rogue turned on her portable speaker and her music disrupted the peace. “ Sorry !” she yelped. 

“Welcome to summer fuckin’ break!” Gambit howled. He threw a glowing purple playing card into the fire pit and the kindling burst into large flames. Everyone cheered with excitement as they gathered around, and Gambit took a healthy gulp of the dark liquor.

The group’s attention was quickly diverted as a familiar pop song began to play. Rogue and Jubilee shrieked with delight and began to dance. Hand-in-hand, the girls swayed and twirled, stumbling over their toes and the uneven forest floor. They giggled as they bumped into each other, moving off-beat with carefree joy. 

“Laura!” Rogue gave her a big toothy grin as she reached out and extended her gloved hand. Her southern drawl was thicker than usual from the alcohol. “Come dance with us!” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Full from dinner, Logan sat comfortably in his recliner with a book. Between saving the world on missions with the X-Men and teaching history and combat during the school year, having alone time to read was a rare occurrence. Logan was picky about his genres. He wasn’t one for fantasy, as his life was already outlandish enough. After multiple trips to other planets and fighting or befriending aliens, reading sci-fi felt too close to his day job. But given his age, he enjoyed reading historical nonfiction the most, finding fun testing the author’s accuracy for events he had lived through himself.

Opening the borrowed novel from Hank about American life on the Western Frontier, Logan's excitement immediately dissipates when he's interrupted by a knock on his front door. He groaned in irritation as he knew right away it was one of the teens wanting something. ‘I swear to God if it’s another trip to ShopMart or a fucking clogged toilet, I’m going to go berserk. ’ He swore under his breath as he rose from his chair and stomped to the entryway. Throwing the door open, Logan’s eyes went wide as his body froze in surprise. 

“Hey there,” Ororo tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and greeted him with a gentle smile. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.” 

“Oh, not at all, darlin’,” Logan chuckled as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. The presence of a beautiful woman like Storm at his door made any prior annoyance evaporate instantly. “What brings you by?” he asked, his voice carrying curiosity and warmth.

“I wanted to thank you for my gift,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she held up a bottle of wine in one hand and a bar of chocolate in the other. “But it’ll be more fun to share with you.” Ororo brought her body close to his and slid into his apartment. A tiny zap of static electricity popped between them. A cheeky smile spread across his face as he watched her make herself at home, rummaging through the kitchenette cabinets until she found two glasses that met her approval.

A soft breeze carrying a sultry, warm scent followed her across the room, and Logan couldn’t help but trail behind. As a natural tracker, he had become very aware of everyone’s smell, whether he liked it or not. But today, Ororo’s scent was different. Was her perfume new? And did she wear it just for him?

“Do you have a bottle opener?” Ororo asked as she placed the glasses, wine bottle, and chocolate on his coffee table. Logan extended a single blade from his knuckles and carefully impaled the cork. With a precise twist, the cork loosened and released. He grabbed a glass and poured her a generous amount of wine.

“You never fail to surprise me, Logan Howlett.” Ororo smiled with delight as she sat next to him on the sofa. She brought the glass to her nose and inhaled deeply. “Tell me about this wine, what was the selection process?” 

“Well, uh,” Logan fumbled with words as he watched her bring the glass to her lips and sip the wine. His heart raced, and his mind went blank, leaving him grasping for something coherent to say. As she lowered the glass and her light-colored eyes met his gaze, he felt a flush of warmth spread across his cheeks, his breath hitching in his chest. “The chocolate caught my eye first. And then I thought about how the flavor notes could complement the wine,”

“You’re making this up, aren’t you?” Ororo's eyes narrowed as she poured Logan a glass and handed it to him.

“Yes, I am. A little,” he replied and took a sip. “I just thought the label on the bottle looked nice.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement when he smiled.

Ororo shook her head and laughed. She was charmed. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“C’mon, Laura,” Rogue whined as she swayed her body and shuffled her feet. “Get over here!”

Her gloved hand reached out to her, but Laura couldn’t find the urge to move. 

“Oh, mon chérie,” Gambit purred as he slid his body behind Rogue. He placed his hands on her hips and rocked his body against hers. His lips brushed against her ear as he whispered, “If she doesn’t dance with you, I will.” He brought his chin to her neck and planted a soft kiss.

Laura was too serious, too awkward, too sober for all of this. The liquor had left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she felt a deeper bitterness of not being like them. She watched as her friends danced and laughed, and she wished she could share in their carefree joy. The music pulsed through the air, but it felt distant to her, a reminder of the barrier between their experiences and hers.

“It’s alright, Rogue,” Laura slumped her shoulders and gave her a reluctant smile. “I’m going to head back, I’m tired.” 

“Are you sure?” Jubilee slurred her words but her intent was true. She stumbled as she stopped dancing and brought her body to a halt. Her cheeks were red from drinking and blue sparks glimmered around her head. “Just stay here, with us…”

A knot began to build in Laura's throat so she swallowed to keep herself from crying. Turning away so her friends couldn’t see her face, she wiped away a tear and walked towards the trees. 

“Ah, oh no! I’ll take you back!” Kurt chased after her, clumsily teleporting towards her and leaving a trail of multiple clouds of smoke. “Fraulein, wait!”

“I’m fine!” Laura faced him, breathing heavily. Tears welled in her eyes as she exhaled through her mouth, her lower teeth exposed in a snarl. She had lost control of her emotions and her fists shook as she began to unsheathe her claws. “I just need to be alone!”

The teens froze in place as they watched Laura disappear into the woods. They knew that if they continued to pressure her, it could lead to an even more dangerous outcome. They all knew she needed time to cool off, but the uncertainty of her feelings dampened the mood. 

Despite the upbeat pop music and a playful tipsy buzz pumping through their veins, the night’s mood took an abrupt turn. The once-festive atmosphere was now filled with tension and concern. Rogue and Jubilee exchanged worried glances, while Gambit scratched his head in confusion. Kurt, who always cared so deeply for his friends, now stood silently, his gaze fixed on the spot where Laura had left.

“Will she be alright?” Rogue turned to her friends, a pang of guilt gnawing at her as if she had done something wrong.

“Of course she will be,” Gambit replied. “She’s a Wolverine.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The empty bottle of wine was the only indicator of how much time had passed, but they couldn't care less about keeping track. On the couch, the distance between Logan and Ororo narrowed as their knees comfortably rested against each other. The energy building between them was warm, and it wasn’t from the summer heat. 

Ororo playfully nudged Logan with her elbow and gestured toward the unopened bar of chocolate. “What are your summer plans, dear Logan?” she asked. 

“Well, if there are no omega-level threats to the school,” Logan replied as he opened the packaging and handed Ororo a piece of chocolate. I’d love to just relax and take it easy.” His gaze lingered on her lips as she placed the chocolate between her teeth and took a bite. 

“Are you planning on visiting home?” She asked as Logan ate a piece. He replied with an indifferent grunt and shrugged his shoulders. He honestly hadn’t thought that far in advance. 

“You know, last time I was being serious.” Logan tilted his head in curiosity. Ororo leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I want to go with you up north.”

“I’ve never brought a girl home before,” Logan said, his eyes locking onto hers. He broke off another piece of chocolate and held it in front of her.

“You’re telling me a man like you has never brought a girl home before?” Ororo teased, a mischievous smile creeping across her face. She carefully plucked the chocolate square from his fingers and took a slow, deliberate bite, letting the chocolate snap between her teeth and her eyes never leaving his.

“Would you like to be my first?” Logan whispered, his voice barely audible. The hair on his arms stood up as a charge of electricity filled the room. Ororo's eyes began to glow, and she held her breath, sensing the intensity of the moment. Their faces inched closer, the air between them crackling with anticipation. 

The intense smell of blood distracted Logan and immediately brought him to his feet. Moving towards the window, he leaned outside and inhaled deeply through his nose. 

“Is everything alright?” Ororo asked, craning her neck to see out the window. A loud howl broke the silence of the night and she gasped in shock. 

Logan turned to his date and extended a hand to lift her to her feet. “Darlin’ tonight has been a lot of fun. But I should go check out what’s going on,” 

“Let me come with you,” she replied but stumbled as she stood up. It had been a while since Storm enjoyed a few glasses of wine. 

Grabbing his jacket, Logan headed towards the front door. “I’ll handle it, you hurry on back home,” he said and placed a kiss upon Ororo’s cheek.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As she made her way back to the mansion, Laura could still hear her friends' music in the distance. Sadness churned in her stomach, and tears streamed down her face. Jealousy gnawed at her as she thought of her peers and their ability to be almost normal.

“ They're all so cool and confident with themselves, ” she fumed, panting through gritted teeth. “ And I’m the one who’s a freak! ”

Each step felt heavier than the last as the weight of her emotions bore down on her. She longed to be like them, to shed her burdens and join in their laughter, but the bitterness of her reality clung to her like a shadow. She thought about Gambit’s kinetic charges, Jubilee’s energy blasts, and Rogue's ability to manifest and deploy power– all from their hands. Laura looked down at her hands and balled them into tight fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her signature blades shot out between her knuckles and she groaned from the sudden pain. Did her friend’s powers cause them agony? Or was this another cross for her to bear?

Anger surged through her, and her heart pounded against her chest. Picking up the pace into a jog, she grunted and snorted in fury, releasing deep growls from within. She hadn’t asked for these mutant abilities and now felt cursed by them. While her ability to heal from the deepest of wounds would be coveted by many, she yearned to heal the emotional pain of being alive. 

With heightened, acute senses, she found herself overstimulated by the scents and sounds of the forest, even in the dead of night. Her eyes darted across the moonlit grounds until she focused on a shadowy figure moving along the hedges. Charging towards the unknown being, she howled, her voice echoing in the stillness.

Thrusting her claws into the figure, Laura’s animalistic tendencies took over and her vision went black. The figure yelped and convulsed under her as she impaled it with her razor-sharp claws. Guttural grunts and snarls rose from her throat as she continued twisting and stabbing it until it took its final, gasping breath. As the body became limp, Laura's vision returned, and she realized what she had done.

“Laura!” Logan called out as he approached her from behind. She turned and bared her teeth at him, her face and body smeared with blood. At the sight of Logan, her eyes softened and filled with tears. Her claws retracted as she looked down at her blood-soaked hands. She wailed after seeing the murdered body under her and collapsed in anguish.

Kneeling to examine the body, Logan felt a sense of relief when he realized who it was. Rolling the body onto its back, he heard its windpipe gargle with blood. Logan gave the body a friendly kick to the side, and it groaned.

“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up,” Logan said as he wrapped his arms around her. Holding her tightly against his chest, he lifted her and carried her inside. “Wade, take the hose and clean up after yourself. Stop lurking around the garden.”

A black-gloved hand rose from the supposedly murdered body and gave a reluctant thumbs up.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

— Deadpool’s Log, star date: In the garden, with Colin!

I am Mary and I found the forbidden key… can’t a guy get out and get some fresh air? But the spores Mary, the spores! Or should I say, the Wolverines, Mary! They got me! Whatever bro… I guess that’s what I get pretending to be a night gardener. Is anyone else watching Severance?

Chapter Text

Laura was startled awake by the sound of a deep, guttural snore. Pushing herself up in bed, she peered over to the floor and found Logan, asleep on his back. Under his head was a large, squishy cat plushy, and his fingers were intertwined, resting on his chest. He inhaled again with his mouth open, releasing another raspy snore. The first thought that came into Laura’s head was about why he was in her room. The second thought was what had happened the night before. She grabbed a plushy pillow from her bed and threw it at Logan’s head. Logan snorted and sputtered as he awoke, unsheathing his claws in a panic. 

“Logan, it’s just me,” Laura said, extending her palms in a truce. “Why are you in my room?” He brought himself to his seat and retracted his claws.

“You went into a bit of a berserker rage last night,” Logan yawned, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “I carried you back inside, cleaned off the blood, and put you to bed.” He ran his tongue along his teeth, smacked his lips, and swallowed. He had slept surprisingly well on the dorm room floor. 

The muscles in Laura’s body tightened, and a cold shiver ran over her skin. “Blood?” she stuttered, examining her hands and nails for any brown residue. “Did I hurt something? Did I kill…”

“Eh, if it was a normal person, yes, you would have killed them,” Logan replied nonchalantly as he looked around her room in the daylight. Her room was cluttered with various trinkets and keepsakes, posters adorning the walls, and an assortment of plushies scattered across the bed and floor. For someone with such a tough personality, underneath it all she was only just a girl.

“What does that mean?” Laura panicked, her heart drumming against her ribcage. “A normal person? Logan?” She could feel panic rising as a knot in her throat began to build.

“Don’t worry about it. I promise,” Logan replied as he rose to his feet. He groaned as he stretched his body and brought himself to sit at the end of Laura’s bed. He picked up one of her plushies and examined its purple fur.

With wide eyes and mouth agape, Laura was shocked by Logan’s nonchalant repose. “Don’t worry about it?!” She mocked him. “What the fuck happened?” 

“That’s what I want to know too. What made you go berserk last night?” He turned to her with caring eyes. “We can talk about who it was later.”

Guilt washed over Laura, brought her knees to her chest, and held herself close. She bit the insides of her cheek, trying to piece together the events of the night before. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she murmured, bringing her forehead to her knees. Her voice was filled with a mixture of shame and confusion, the weight of her actions pressing down on her.

“Hun, we’re going to have to,” Logan continued as he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. 

She jerked her shoulder away, scooting her body out of his reach. “You’re not my dad, stop it.”

Laura’s reply made him feel oddly disrespected. He watched her wipe her nose with the back of her hand, sniffing as she tried to steady her breath. Their eyes met, and he noticed that they shared the same shape, color, and pain.

“You’re right Laura, I’m not your dad. But you’ve got my DNA. I am The Wolverine, and so are you. And if there is anyone who understands exactly what you’re going through, it’s me.” Logan had never spoken those words out loud before and found his voice quivering. He cared deeply for her, almost like a father would.

She didn’t reply but continued to cry quietly, her forehead against her knees. Logan reached out again to touch her shoulder, but this time, she didn’t move.

“Look, I’m here for you. Let’s talk about it. Your old man here has gone berserk a handful of times,” he said with a nervous half-smile.

“Ugh, okay, fine!” Laura lifted her face to him, her eyes and nose pink from crying. “We can talk about it!”

Logan reached his hand forward and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched at the softness of his touch. “Let’s go outside and get some fresh air,” he said reassuringly. “It’ll make you feel better.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Laura and Logan made their way down the hall of the student dorms, a horrific smell stopped them in their tracks. They turned to each other and shared the same expression of disgust, with furrowed brows and downward-turned mouths. The awful scent led to Jubilee's dorm. Knocking quietly, they heard a crying moan from within. Laura carefully opened the door, unsure of what she would find.

Jubilee sat on the floor of her dorm room, her face hovering above a trash can. Kurt stood behind her, rubbing her back as she hurled last night’s dinner into the bin. Laura watched with pity, aware of how hungover her friends were, but grateful she did not feel the same.

“Oof,” Logan wrinkled his nose as he looked over Laura’s shoulder from the doorway. “Elf, hello, nice to see you. How are you doing?”

Kurt’s blue skin tone was greyer than usual, and he shrugged his shoulders with unease.

“Laura, go to the kitchen and get them some water and crackers,” Logan instructed, his voice gentle but firm. “Where’s Remy and Anna Marie?”

“They’re, they’re in…” Jubilee’s voice was strained as she hurled into the bin again. Repulsed, Logan couldn’t help but grimace and pull the door slightly closed.

“They’re in his room,” Kurt mumbled, holding back the need to also vomit. The two friends did not look well.

Logan gave them a gentle nod and quietly closed their door. Walking across the hall to Gambit’s room, he rapped his knuckles against the door and opened it without waiting for a reply. The dark room was illuminated by the flickering glow of the TV, casting an artificial light onto their faces. Gambit held Rogue against his body, cuddling in his bed. As the brightness of the day beamed into the bedroom, the two teens yelped and pulled the covers up to their faces, trying to shield themselves from the intrusive sunlight and instructor.

“Ay, woah, hey!” Logan exclaimed as he stood in the doorway, quickly turning his face away. He partially closed the door to give them privacy and spoke through the small opening. “What are y’all doing in there? You better have some clothes on!”

“Yes sir,” Rogue sat up in the bed, clutching the covers to her chest. “We’re just watchin’ TV, sir,” she replied, trying to sound innocent. Under the covers, Gambit rolled his eyes and pulled her closer to him. She fell back onto the pillow, giggling as he nuzzled into her neck.

Logan groaned and opened the door wider, his expression stern. “I’m not stupid, I was your age once,” he barked. “You know what, I don’t get paid enough for this...”

Rogue blushed deeply, while Gambit chuckled softly. “We got it, Logan,” he said with a smirk, his arm still wrapped around Rogue's body. 

“Y’all better be using protection!” Logan shook his head and shouted in exasperation as he closed their bedroom door.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── 

It was a beautiful summer day in upstate New York. The birds were chirping, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. A small creek ran parallel to the dirt road they walked on, and the babble of running water filled the silence between them. Though the air was warm, the tension between Logan and Laura was uneasy and cold. Logan could sense she was in a terrible mood.

“So, I see you’re not feeling hungover,” Logan said, breaking the awkward silence as they walked along a dirt road. “Did you drink with them?” They had left the Xavier property, and Laura wasn’t sure where they were heading, but the fresh air was nice.

“Yeah, I did,” Laura defensively muttered under her breath. “But…”

“And lemme guess, you couldn't get drunk?” Logan said, a knowing smirk on his face. Laura jerked her head and glared at him. “Regenerative healing factor is a real buzzkill,” he chuckled and shrugged.

“Then why do you drink?” Her tone was flippant and kept her eyes on him. She could tell he was thinking over his answer as he squinted his eyes and narrowed his brow.

After a minute or two, he finally replied, “I guess I like the taste,” his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness.

“Ew,” she said under her breath, judging him. Logan scoffed at her response and turned to her. “You’ll learn to like it,” he said with a mischievous grin. Laura scowled and gave him a withering look.

“I don’t think I’ll ever drink again after last night,” Laura said after some time. Her voice tinged with regret. 

Logan turned to her, but she avoided eye contact. “Did you go berserk because of drinking? Or was it because of something else?” 

Laura bit the inside of her cheek and pouted her lips. She reflected on the number of beers she had drunk and how she felt nothing. She thought about the disgusting licorice-flavored liquor they had all shared. After multiple swigs, her friends got drunk, but she remained stone-cold sober. But considering how her friends felt this morning, Laura did feel a bit arrogant. However, she also thought about last night and why she had left in the first place. They were all dancing and having fun, but she couldn’t get herself to feel the same.

“It was because of something else. I just feel like such a loser compared to them,” Laura said, her voice tinged with frustration and sadness. She looked down at her hands, turning them over from front to back. “Their powers are so cool and fun, and mine are so, like…”

“Hey now,” Logan interrupted her, gently grabbing her hand. She looked at her hand in his, noticing the similar shape of their fingers and the deep scars tucked between the knuckles. He saw how small her hands were in his and imagined how tiny they must have been when she was a baby. Laura felt a wave of awkwardness and released her hand from his grasp. 

Tucking her hands into her front jean pockets, she continued, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just feel so different from everyone else. Like, I feel like they have it so easy, and I’m just a weirdo.”

“I remember feeling that way too.” Logan sighed, looking up at the sky before meeting her eyes again. “But everyone your age feels that way. Human or mutant. You just have to embrace who you are.”

She didn’t reply, but he could see the conflict in her expression. With squinted eyes and furrowed brow, she was reflecting on the simplicity of his advice and grappled with the weight of his reassurance. He was a man of few words, and sometimes that’s all she needed.

The dirt trail gradually turned into a paved sidewalk as they approached the town. It was a quaint place, with a charming main street lined with small shops and cafes. Each building had its own unique character, from the old-fashioned barber shop with a spinning red and white pole to the bookstore with a cluttered window display. 

Logan finally stopped in front of a diner that looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1980s. The neon sign above the door glowed, and the large windows allowed a glimpse of its long counter and colored vinyl booths inside. He pushed the door and let Laura enter first, the bell above the door chimes as they stepped inside. 

“I figured you’d be hungry,” Logan said as they took a seat at an open booth. Laura nodded in reply. The waitress soon followed, dropping the menus at their table. She asked what they wanted to drink, and they both ordered black coffee. She quickly returned with their drinks and then checked on her other tables.

“You know, Laura,” Logan said, bringing the mug to his lips, “You’re so damn lucky you’re at Xavier’s. I didn’t have this when I was your age. I was wild, alone, running alone through the Canadian forests like a fuckin’ animal.” He winced at the bitter taste of the burnt coffee.

She noticed Logan’s reaction and poured some sugar into her coffee. “But what if I want to be alone?” Laura questioned, her response sounding harsher than intended. To fill the silence, she let her spoon clink against the walls of the mug. Logan watched her, gritting his teeth.

“Being a loner won’t solve your problems, bub. I know it from experience,” Logan said, his voice tinged with irritation. “When I first met the professor and the other X-Men, I didn’t need their silly little club and outfits. I thought I was too good for them. But in the end, I was the one alone, and they had each other. And they were nice enough to invite me in.”

Memories from the night before flashed in Laura’s mind. Her classmates had invited her to dance and join in on the fun, regardless of whether she was drunk or not. When she left, they had all called out to her to stay. They are her friends, also weirdos with powers.

“You’ve got great friends, Laura,” he said and took another sip of his coffee. 

Laura knew he was right. Tears began to well in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away as the waitress returned for their order.

“Can I get the hashbrowns, bacon, and eggs over medium, please? With a waffle on the side?” Laura choked back her tears, her voice slightly trembling. The waitress didn’t bother to look away from her notepad.

“Hey, that’s my order.” Logan smiled as he handed their menus over to the waitress. Laura's eyes widened in surprise. “I’ll have the same thing as her. Thank you, ma’am.”

“Like father, like daughter, I presume,” the waitress replied, sounding unamused. “We’ll have that out in just a bit.”

The two Wolverines felt a twinge of pride from the waitress’s reply. Laura was not his daughter by birth, but she did have his DNA. Logan thought about nature versus nurture, and how many of his quirks and traits lived within her. He hadn’t raised her, but he saw versions of himself in her every day. He looked at her fondly as she watched the TV above the counter, which was playing highlights of the hockey games from the night before.

“You like hockey, kiddo?” Logan asked, glancing at the TV. Laura nodded yes, her eyes still fixed on the screen. “I hope you’re a Flames fan,” he added with a hopeful grin.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Pop,” she replied with a smile.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── 

After breakfast, the two Wolverines took their time walking back to the mansion, enjoying the warm summer air. Logan shared his adventures as an X-Men, recounting battles and missions with a touch of nostalgia. Laura listened with great interest, hanging on every word. She was grateful to not only have a mentor and father figure in her life, but someone who shared the same mutant powers, similarities, and DNA.

As the mansion came into view, Laura slipped her arm around Logan’s bicep and squeezed, feeling a deep gratitude for him. “Thanks for breakfast,” she said softly, holding him close. “And for being here for me.” She looked up at him with adoring eyes.

Logan felt a swell of pride and affection for Laura. “I’ll always be here for you,” he replied, tilting his head to rest it gently on hers.

“So, are you going to tell me who it was I almost murdered?” Laura chuckled as she released herself from their familial hug.

“That motherfucker…” Logan groaned, throwing his head back in irritation. “I don’t believe you’ve ever met him, but Wade Wilson, Deadpool, has been staying at the mansion. He’s an annoying piece of shit, so I told him to stay out of the way.”

Laura raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “But is he okay?”

“Yeah, Wade’s fine,” Logan replied curtly, tightening his jaw. “He also has healing regeneration powers.”

Laura responded with a thoughtful “ huh ” and mulled over what Logan had shared with her. As they finally approached the front steps of the mansion, she turned to him to continue. “Is he the reason why I keep smelling an awful rotting smell around the house?”

“Yeah, he fuckin’ stinks,” Logan laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “I got him some soap at Shopmart to help with that, but I don’t think he’s used it yet.”

“That’s nice of you,” Laura smiled sincerely and opened the front door.

As Laura made her way back to her dorm room, she noticed the door to the media room was slightly ajar. Curious, she peeked inside and saw Rogue, Gambit, Jubilee, and Kurt all cuddled up on the couch in front of the glowing TV. They were snuggled under blankets, lounging with their plushy pillows, and sharing laughter and a large bag of chips.

When they saw her, her friends screamed in excitement, their faces lighting up with genuine joy. "Laura! Get in here!" they called out, encouraging her to join them. Laura felt a warm rush of happiness and belonging. Without hesitation, she found a place to fit in, squeezing herself between Rogue and Kurt. She pulled a blanket over herself and grabbed a handful of chips, basking in the warmth and love of her chosen family.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

— Deadpool’s Log, star date: …..

Alright, we get it! The writer loved Logan (2017) and Deadpool & Wolverine (2024) and is currently obsessed with NYX (2024) and X-Terminators (2022) and Laura Kinney: Wolverine (2024) the list goes on and on… it’s just one big circle jerk for the Wolverine family, some hurt/comfort and working through trauma. Writer, please get on with something fun, yeeesh!  

Chapter Text

When Ororo asked Logan to grab something from the grocery store, he was more than happy to run out and get it for her. “I shouldn't be back in 15 minutes,” he said to her with a wink. He grabbed his keys and headed out to the garage. Along the way, he ran into Laura and asked if she wanted to join him.

“It’ll be a ‘father-daughter’ outing,” Logan said, feeling a bit awkward as it sounded better in his head.

Laura looked amused and gave him a mischievous smile. “Only if you take me to Java Hut.”

Wanting to do anything for his pseudo-daughter, he agreed and they both got into the car. Their one-on-one was soon foiled as the rest of the teens rounded the corner and saw them pulling out of the driveway. Before Logan knew it, they had all piled into the SUV. Unaware of where they were going, all that mattered to them was getting out of the mansion.

The 15 minutes Logan promised turned into 45 as the teens pestered him through every aisle of the grocery store. They distracted him from Ororo's specific list, asking for more hot cheese chips and sweet treats. He knew it was a losing battle to say no, so he let them fill the cart with whatever they wanted. On his way to the register with an overfilled cart, Hank called Logan’s cell.

“My dear friend, can you please pick up something for me at the post office?” Logan could tell Hank was speaking through a pleading smile. “It’s ready to be picked up. And the location isn’t far from the store you’re at now.” Logan caved and accepted the additional task.

There was only one employee on duty, and the queue snaked around the post office lobby. Logan gritted his teeth as he waited patiently for his turn. He knew this was important to his friend, but he couldn't help thinking this might be the last time he ran this errand.

“Hey Logan, how much longer is this going to take?” Jubilee asked, smacking her gum against the roof of her mouth. With arms crossed, she had an attitude that Logan wasn’t fond of.

“Do you see this?” he huffed, gesturing to the long line of people in front of him. “Why don’t you go sit in the car and play on your phone?”

“I was until Rogue and Gambit began getting hot and heavy in the backseat.” Jubilee twisted her mouth in disgust. Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head at the news. He craned his neck to look out the window and saw Laura and Kurt in the parking lot, mirroring each other as they practiced odd dance moves. He looked towards the car and saw nothing through the tinted windows.

“We’ve got Elf-boy here for Pete’s sake,” Logan pointed towards Kurt, who was now spinning in circles in the parking lot. “Why don’t you have him teleport you home?” His patience was quickly dwindling.

Jubilee's eyebrows lifted, and her eyes went wide. “But I thought we were going to Java Hut?”

Logan clenched his teeth so hard that his lower jaw jutted out. “Who told you that?” he groaned. Jubilee’s body tensed as she raised her arm to point at her friend. “Laura did!”

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It didn’t help that they were crammed into the backseat of the car. Their thighs touched and their shoulders knocked into each other. Personal space became limited, and between Rogue and Gambit, the thirst began to build. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed his other hand on her thigh. A shiver of excitement ran up Rogue’s skin, and her wide eyes met his. His dark eyes were mysterious, and she knew his mischievous smile was just a temptation. She pouted her lips in response and leaned into him. With only the thin material of her jumpsuit separating his touch and her skin, they both could feel the electricity building between them. 

Gambit gently squeezed her thigh, causing her to twitch from a tickle. They shared a laugh, and he released his grip. She shuddered as he began to draw his hand from her knee to her upper thigh and looped it back down. Rogue was sensitive to his touch and yearned for more. As he continued to caress her, she turned to nuzzle her face into his neck. Gambit quivered as he felt her hot breath against his skin. At that moment, all he wanted was her plush lips to be placed against his skin. Leaning his head back against the headrest, he felt his heart racing; he moaned as she spoke sweet nothings into his neck.

“C’mere,” Gambit huffed through restrained composure. “Get on top of me.” Her closeness to his body was driving him crazy, and he craved to have her body touching his. Pulling her close, Rogue shifted in her seat and lifted her body to straddle him. She draped her arms around his shoulders with him between her legs and leaned in. Biting back a moan, he exhaled harshly as he wrapped his arms around her tight body. Running his hands up and down her curves, he couldn’t help stopping on her hips and digging his fingers into her. Between labored breaths and racing pulses, their noses brushed and their lips grew close. The charged magnetism between them drew them in, yearning for their skin to touch.

“Oh sugah, I want to kiss you so bad.” Rogue’s breath hitched each time their lips came close to touching, and all she wanted was to place them upon his. Her lower body ached as the temperature rose between them. She put her gloved hand on the back of Gambit’s head and rubbed her thumb along the nape of his neck. His dark eyes fluttered open and closed in response to her soft touch.

“Kiss me,” He replied, submissively rocking himself against her. She followed his rhythm and began rolling her hips forward and back, grinding herself against him. A moan from deep within left his lips, “Just do it, chérie.”

“But, what if I hurt you?” she whined with her head feeling dizzy from the built tension of lust and desire. 

Bucking his hips, Gambit pulled Rogue in and raked his fingers through her thick hair. “I guess we don’t know until we find out.” Drawing her closer, he placed his lips upon hers and kissed her.

Kinetic energy was felt between them as their lips met. Brushing her tongue over his lips, she kissed him hard. He followed her lead; kissing, nipping, and sucking her bottom lip. Their teeth clumsily clinked against each other, but were soon forgiven as her tongue met his. Between grinding and kissing each other, Rogue’s powers seemed to be distracted. The only memories in her head were the ones she was making at that moment, and the only energy she was consuming was the hunger and desire to want more of him. 

A bright light shined into Rogue’s eyes, causing her to break her kiss away from Gambit’s lips. Raising her arm to block the light, she gasped in fright. “Get off of each other, now!” Logan barked as he opened the car’s back door and placed a large package into the trunk. “Have some fuckin’ decency, please!” She rolled herself off and sat in her seat with her face beet red.

As the car doors opened, everyone piled into their seats. Jubilee and Kurt settled into the row in front of Rogue and Gambit, while Laura claimed the passenger seat. Logan slid into the driver's seat and started the car with a low hum. The atmosphere was tense from an annoyed Logan, so almost immediately, Laura reached over and turned on the radio, filling the car with music to lighten the mood.

Rogue was deeply embarrassed to be caught in such an intimate position. Gambit, on the other hand, felt quite differently. He sat comfortably with a stupid smile of overconfidence plastered on his face, clearly unfazed by the situation. “That was amazing,” he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I want more of you.” He placed his arm around her and pulled her close to nuzzle her neck. Still overwhelmed by their kiss, Rogue felt her body melting into his touch.

“Jesus Christ!” Logan growled. “Do I need to have ‘the talk’ with you two?” The two lovebirds' eyes met Logan’s as he adjusted the rearview mirror. Rogue shifted herself away and placed her face in her hands. 

“Oui, Professor Logan!” Gambit taunted him by sticking out his tongue between his teeth. “Teach us all about the birds and the bees!” 

Logan twisted his grip around the steering wheel. This trip was originally supposed to be a quick trip, a nice favor for Ororo, yet it turned into an over-an-hour excursion of shuttling around annoying teenagers. The tires squealed as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot, causing Laura to reach for the grab handle above her door. “Y’all are pissing me off.” he sneered. “Maybe we should skip Java Hut.” He kept his eyes on the road as the entire car was filled with loud disgruntled boos and disappointment. 

Laura frowned as she turned towards Logan. “But you said you’d take me!”

“Yeah, I said I would take you, not them!” he replied, clenching his jaw in irritation.

“ Dad , c’mon,” Laura whined, her eyes pleading. Logan’s heart panged from hearing her call him dad, a title that was so fresh and complicated, and he wasn’t fully convinced she meant it. He glanced at her, seeing the genuine disappointment in her eyes, and felt a twinge of guilt mixed with frustration.

“Fine!” Logan rolled his eyes and merged into the other lane. “You all better leave me alone for the rest of the week.” The teens cheered and he turned away to hide his smile. 

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Idling in the car, Logan found himself waiting in yet another line. The drive-thru line for Java Hut wrapped around the building, and with cars trapping him on both sides, the best he could do was center himself and breathe. The teens were none the wiser, watching videos on their phones and singing along to the songs on the radio. While he waited his phone buzzed with a notification. Quickly glancing at the screen, he noticed it was a message from an unknown number. 

“What does this say?” Logan asked, handing his phone to Laura. As the car in front of them pulled forward, he followed suit, glancing between the car ahead and his phone in her hand.

“It’s Wade. He wants something.” She said, keeping her voice low so the others couldn’t hear them. Logan groaned and brought his fingers to his forehead. A mischievous smile crept across her face. “He said he wants updog.”

“What’s updog?” Logan's sneer had a twinge of curiosity. 

“Oh man, he got you good.” She laughed as she replied to his text with multiple laughing and skull emojis. Logan muttered multiple swear words under his breath and snatched his phone from her hands. Touching the voice-to-text icon, he spoke into the microphone. “Fuck off you fucking fuck, period. Delete my number asshole, period. Send.” 

“You're so old,” Laura giggled and smiled. Huffing in frustration, Logan squinted his eyes at her and pulled the car forward to the ordering window.

“Alright, kiddos, what do you want?” Logan asked, giving a friendly nod to the cashier. All the teens spoke at once, and he raised a hand for silence. Pointing to the passenger seat, he continued, “Laura, you first.”

“Large cold brew with cream, 2 pumps of vanilla, and light ice, please,” she leaned across him to speak to the cashier.

“No black coffee for you?” Logan raised a judgmental eyebrow. Laura playfully stuck her tongue out at him in reply. “I wanted something fun. Is that allowed?” Logan rolled his eyes and pointed to Kurt.

“I would like a small, hot caramel macchiato with cold foam!” Kurt smiled. “With extra caramel drizzle! Danke!” Logan turned to the cashier and asked if she heard his order. She nodded, and Logan pointed to Jubilee.

“I want an extra-large pinky drink with light ice, double vanilla syrup, and extra strawberries!” she shouted excitedly. Logan shook his head in confusion as if she was speaking an alien language. He looked at the cashier, and she gave him a hesitant look. “Jubilee, honey, tell the nice lady your order. I’m not repeating all that.” Jubilee scrunched her nose and rolled down the window to repeat her order.

Logan turned to look at the lovebirds in the back and pointed to Rogue. “May I have a large vanilla bean frappé with 2 pumps of raspberry syrup?” she said, but the cashier gave the same hesitant look of inability to hear. Logan inhaled and sighed loudly through his nose. “She’ll have a large frappé with berry syrup?” Logan halfheartedly repeated. “No, Logan! Vanilla bean with raspberry syrup!” Rogue raised her voice so he’d hear.

“I’m sorry, she’ll have a vanilla bean with raspberry syrup.” Logan smiled awkwardly. 

Finally, it was Gambit’s turn, and he didn't wait to be asked. “Large iced latte with 5 sugars and oat milk, merci beaucoup!” Gambit shouted across the car. The cashier's eyes widened in surprise, and she nodded before turning to Logan. “And you, sir?”

He gave her a tired smile. “Just a black coffee.” 

“What size?” she asked, pressing multiple buttons on her menu tablet.

“Surprise me,” he said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. 

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The sun had set, painting the sky a beautiful dark blue. Between the clouds, stars began to sparkle against the night, and the moon rose gracefully above the horizon. It was a perfect evening, with the sound of crickets serenading the night and distant rolls of thunder adding a gentle rhythm to the air. On the roof of the mansion sat Rogue and Gambit, nestled close to each other. He watched her with loving eyes as she gazed out towards the distance, deep in thought. Even though her body was leaning against his, he knew something was weighing deeply on her mind.

“Anna, whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” Gambit asked, tucking a strand of her white hair behind her ear. She smiled softly from his touch but continued to look towards the rising moon. It took a few moments for her to find the words, and when she did, she turned to him with concerned eyes.

“Remy,” her voice quivered with nervousness. Isn’t it weird that my powers didn’t affect you today?”

With a lopsided smile, he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so,” he replied. A shiver of excitement washed over his skin as he replayed the day’s kiss over and over in his head.

“Why do you think that happened?” Anxiety crept through Rogue’s nervous system, and she began biting the inside of her lip. “I’m not losing my powers, right?”

Gambit didn’t need special mutant powers to know she was upset. There was so much they didn’t know about being a mutant, and he couldn’t imagine how much more there was to learn. He picked up her gloved hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. Squeezing her softly, he turned to her with his dark eyes wide.

“Maybe you were distracted by my handsomeness and forgot to use your powers?” He smirked as he brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed her, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary. “I mean, it wasn’t my powers that floated us up here to the roof.”

“Oh, Sugah,” Rogue’s cheeks flushed pink as she giggled at his response. He had a special way of bringing her back down to earth.

“My chérie,” Gambit replied, gently cradling her cheek with his gloved hand. He looked at her with adoring eyes, his gaze soft and tender. Her white bangs stood out brightly against the night sky, giving the illusion of a saintly halo. To him, she was an angel, no matter what kind of power she held. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice a low, intimate whisper.

As their lips met, a lightning bolt flashed against the night sky, but a different type of electricity was building between them. The excitement of being young and in love grew stronger with each kiss and touch, and the hunger to explore each other roused deep inside them. Thunder rumbled in the distance, muting any heavy breaths and moans. It was just them, on top of the world.

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Dinner had long been served, and the kitchen was now empty. The lights were dim, casting a gentle glow, and the backdoor was open, allowing a cool breeze to drift in and blend with the warmth of the room. The radio played soft jazz and Logan hummed along. He was at the sink, washing the last of the dinner dishes, while Ororo meticulously tucked away the final leftovers. She listened to him croon softly as he washed the dishes, the sound of his voice mingling with the gentle clinking of plates. For a moment, it felt almost domestic, a calm and intimate slice of normalcy amid their often busy lives. Ororo couldn't help but smile as she placed the final container in the fridge, glancing over at Logan and feeling a warm, comforting sense of home in the shared space.

“Thanks so much for doing the dishes,” Ororo said, breaking the silence as she joined him at the kitchen sink. Standing so close, their arms almost touched.

“It was the least I could do after that amazing dinner you cooked up,” Logan replied, placing the final dish on the drying rack and drying his hands on a dish towel. Turning his body towards her, he reached for his glass of whiskey on the counter and took a sip.

“I couldn’t have made it without my special ingredient,” Ororo playfully nodded her head and smirked, taking the whiskey glass from his hands. She inhaled the smoky-peaty notes and took a small sip. He waited for her to wince, but she impressively didn’t react to the acquired taste. 

“Oh really, ‘Ro?” Logan raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Was it just the rosemary that made it amazing?” Giving her a flirtatious wink, the sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, almost like a reply. The smell of ozone and incoming rain filled the air, and he tilted his head toward the door. “Is that you?”

“Oh, you're funny,” Ororo bit her lip and placed her hand on his chest, feeling a warmth charge from her hands onto him. With one hand handing him his glass, the other traced her fingers through his hair. Logan was distracted by her touch and almost dropped his drink. A shiver rushed over his skin and he couldn’t help but blush from her magnetic touch. 

“I had fun the other night,” she whispered as a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. Steadying himself, he placed his palm on the small of her back and locked his gaze onto her glowing white eyes. He was completely entranced by her beauty.

“Me too,” he mumbled, his melting into her touch as she dragged her fingers through his thick hair. As thunder rumbled above them, she tutted and pouted her lips. 

“Do you want to come by my place tonight?” She traced the back of her hand along his cheek before gently placing her palm against his face. “Or should we head over to yours?”

Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, charging the air with electricity. The hair on Logan’s arms stood up as her thumb rubbed his stubbled chin. Moving her touch upwards, she placed her thumb gently upon his lips. Under her spell, Logan's inhibitions melted away, and a deep, undeniable desire took over. Kissing the pad of her thumb first, he released his jaw and playfully nipped her. Thunder roared above as Storm giggled from his playful bite. Pulling her body close to his, Logan gave her an animalistic look. He wanted more of her. 

Logan placed his whiskey glass on the countertop and brought his rough hands to the soft nape of Ororo’s neck. He held her gently as his gaze drifted from her glowing eyes down to her lips. He was entranced by her power and beauty. His eyes followed the curve of her parted lips, and he was consumed with the thought of kissing her. Breathless, Ororo batted her lashes and leaned in, bringing her nose to touch his. The lights in the kitchen flickered as power surged between them. Their lips hovered, hungry to touch.

“Sorry! Am I interrupting?” A familiar Canadian ‘ou’ vowel shift stopped Logan in his tracks. He groaned with a face flushed red, pulled himself away from Ororo, and clenched his fists.

Turning to face the doorway, Ororo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wade Wilson?”

“It’s me! Your friendly neighborhood cock block,” he replied as he strolled in wearing his signature red uniform and tipped his metaphorical cap toward the couple. “What’s for dinner?”

“Wait a minute,” Narrowing her eyes toward him, Ororo scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you the one who's been eating all my leftovers?”

“Yep!” Wade replied cheerfully. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a plastic container and opened the lid. Bringing the food to his masked nose, he sniffed. “Ooh, lemon rosemary chicken? Yum!”

Logan huffed and lunged towards Deadpool. Wade yelped as he tried to keep the food from spilling while they tussled to the ground. He was a slippery one, but Logan knew all his signature moves. It took Logan a minute or so to get him where he wanted, and he clenched Wade’s collar to drag him out the backdoor. 

“Nooooooo!” Wade whined, kicking his feet and holding the leftovers above his head. “Last time I was outside, I was brutally murdered!”

Ororo’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she watched the two grown men grunt and wrestle each other in the dirt. She knew Logan was not one to be tussled with, but she was also impressed with how well Wade managed to keep the food from falling onto the ground. “Okay, you two,” she finally called out as she conjured a large gust of wind to break them apart. Logan got to his feet and dusted the dirt off his pants and shirt. He gave Wade a short kick while he was on the ground, and Wade howled.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Logan wiped his forehead as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen. “Can I take you out tomorrow?” His smile was pleading, hoping she’d forgive him for his outburst. Ororo smiled and nodded, knowing Logan was being a typical male and showing off in front of her. He was the best at what he does, and what he does wasn’t always nice.

“Oooh, can I come?” Wade chimed in, his mask rolled halfway up as he munched on lemon-rosemary chicken. “And Logan, did you know you’ve got two teenagers making out on the roof?”

Logan didn’t bother to turn back, slamming the kitchen door shut to emphasize his indifference. The kitchen light flicked off, leaving Wade alone in the dark.

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|| Private Playlist||

 - After Midnight - 

➤ by Storm

Songs:

• Any Time, Any Place - Janet Jackson

• Rock the Boat - Aaliyah

• Nite and Day - Al B Sure!

• Candy Rain - Soul Be Real

• Lovers Rock - Sade

Chapter Text

Logan sat quietly at the dining room table with his coffee, bowl of oatmeal, and tablet. He savored life’s little pleasures as he basked in the quiet alone time of the morning. He sipped his coffee and swiped on colorful gems on his tablet, matching and eliminating rows, strategically moving gems to earn a large jackpot. His pulse heightened when his strategy worked, and the game sang its friendly tune that he won. Hopelessly addicted, he collected his award and advanced to the next level.

“Whatcha playin’?” Laura startled him from behind. She knew better than to do so, but seeing him twitch in his seat always amused her. “You’re seriously not playing GemCrush right now…”

Logan shot her a judgmental glance before begrudgingly switching off his tablet and sipping his coffee. “What’s it to you? You have that stupid camera snappy app you’re always on.” He pointed with his nose at the phone in her hand. 

Laura rolled her eyes and placed her oatmeal on the table. He was settling into the sarcastic father role quite nicely. “Anyways… I was thinking,” she said, taking a big bite of her breakfast, “today you should teach me how to drive.”

He pondered for a moment over her request. Giving her more independence to go places would be a win for him, and it was a good skill to have as an X-Men and a civilian. She was also at the perfect age to learn. Logan shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “Yeah, why not. Seems like a good idea.”

“Awesome!” Laura squished her nose in delight and gave him a big smile. Since their much-needed father-daughter Wolverine heart-to-heart, Logan could feel she was feeling more welcomed and confident about herself.

Gambit strolled into the dining room and interrupted their father-daughter moment. “Oohh, bonjour! Que célébrons-nous?” He asked as he took the open seat next to Laura. 

Laura was smitten and held her head up high with pride. “Logan is going to teach me how to drive.”

“The Blackbird?!” Gambit shouted with exaggerated enthusiasm, knowing it would annoy the only adult in the room. He was joking, but he looked towards Logan to watch him squirm in irritation.

“Wait,” Jubilee said, trailing into the room with her eyes glued to her phone. “Are we learning how to fly the jet?”

Logan slammed his hand on the table so hard it caused the coffee to ripple in their mugs. “No, god damn it! No jet!” He huffed as he glanced around at the teens sitting around him. “I was originally going to teach just Laura, but now I guess I'm teaching everyone.” They didn't flinch at his outburst, which only made him cross his arms in exasperation. In this house, it seemed like everyone had to do everything together; no one went solo. 

“It’s okay, Logan,” Rogue chimed in as she walked into the dining room and sat next to her beaux. She took a sip of her coffee and smiled softly. “I already know how to fly.”

Gambit placed his arm around Rogue and pulled her closer, almost causing her to fall off her chair. “Oh, ma petite amie, you’re so funny! We’re not learning how to fly!” Rogue giggled in his arms, and the two exchanged a tender kiss. Logan and Laura both groaned and rolled their eyes in disgust.

With a loud pop and a cloud of blue smoke, Kurt suddenly appeared on the dining room table, causing everyone to stop and look at him. “If you need to go anywhere, just ask me! We can just teleport!” he declared with his chest pushed out and a big, toothy grin. His friends applauded his dramatic arrival.

“Kurt, get off the table!” Logan barked as he rose to his feet. His patience dwindled every day and he wasn’t sure how much lower it could go. His jaw clenched as he scowled at the teens around him. Internally, he debated whether to continue this favor, as they were always testing his limits. But giving them the freedom to leave the property without his assistance would mean he’d have more alone time. Exhaling loudly, he continued, “If you want to learn how to drive, meet me outside in ten minutes.”

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Rogue was the first to take the driver's seat. Logan wasn’t worried; he had trained with her multiple times in the danger room. She was always aware of her surroundings and took calculated risks when needed. He nodded for her to start, and she turned the key in the ignition. Sitting confidently with a touch of apprehension, Rogue followed Logan’s training by adjusting the rear view mirror and checking the side mirrors. She smiled as she saw her friends sitting on the curb of the large parking lot, waving and cheering her on. Logan gave her another nod, and she moved the shifter into drive, releasing her foot from the brake pedal. The car coasted forward, and excitement surged through her as she slowly accelerated and turned the wheel to avoid the light posts.

“You’re doing great, Rogue,” Logan reassured her as she slowed the car during her turn. “Don’t go too slow; keep your speed steady.” 

Rogue was so focused, she nodded as she couldn’t find the words to respond. After coming to a complete stop, Logan encouraged her to keep going onto the main road. As the car picked up speed, her heart filled with elation. She had thrown her body into the sky and reached triple-digit speeds, but controlling the car was an entirely different feeling. 

“Amazing job, Rogue.” Logan beamed with pride as they made their way back to the parking lot, confident she could get her driver’s license today. He had her pull over, and she nailed a perfect parking spot.

“Alright, who’s next?” Logan stepped out of the car in a pleasant mood. The teens sat together on the curb of the parking lot and looked at each other nervously. He pointed a finger at Kurt and he shuffled backwards. “No, I don’t want to.”

“Why not?” Logan gave him a curious look. “You scared?” Kurt nervously shook his head and bit his lip, and Logan took the hint to leave the elf alone. He moved on to his next student and pointed at Jubilee. “Alright you, you’re up.”

Logan’s good mood quickly diminished after hopping into the passenger seat with Jubilee at the wheel. She exuded confidence as she sat in the driver’s seat, assuring him she knew what she was doing. Adjusting her signature large sunglasses in the rearview mirror, she started the car and slid the shifter into neutral instead of drive, then stomped down on the accelerator pedal. The car loudly revved and hummed in place, causing Jubilee to jump in her seat. Panicking, she looked at Logan, unaware that her foot needed to be released from the pedal. He tried to calm her down, but stress-induced sparkles began to fly around Jubilee’s tight grip on the steering wheel.

“Cool it with the fireworks, bub!” Logan raised his voice, hoping it would snap her out of her tizzy. “We don’t want to have an accident.”

Jubilee gasped in shock. “Am I going to blow up the car?” She finally lifted her foot off the pedal and released her grip on the steering wheel. The engine grew quiet, emitting a sound of relief.

“If you keep it up with the pyrotechnics, possibly!” he quipped. Tears began to well in Jubilee’s eyes, and Logan instantly regretted his choice of words. “We’re going to be fine,” he reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe and put the car in drive.”

Jubilee sniffled through her tears but found it difficult to calm down, overwhelmed by the fear of making another mistake. In her haste, she quickly moved the shifter into the correct position of drive, but absentmindedly forgot which pedal did what. Stomping on the smaller pedal, the car and Logan lurched forward, rapidly picking up speed. Jubilee screamed in panic as the car sped through the parking lot and jutted over a parking block.

“I can’t do this!” Jubilee screamed, releasing her hands from the steering wheel. The car gradually came to a stop, and Logan quickly pulled the parking brake, bringing the car to an immediate halt. Jubilee was hyperventilating in her seat, while Logan also struggled to catch his breath.

“Maybe we’ll try again next time, yeah?” Logan suggested, secretly hoping he would never need to teach her again. Deep down, Jubilee felt the same and nodded in agreement. An overwhelming sense of shame washed over her, and she couldn’t bring herself to start the car or even attempt to drive back. Without a second thought, Jubilee unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the car door, and walked back toward her friends across the parking lot.

Logan sat in the passenger seat, stunned. He took a moment to breathe, let out a chuckle, and then shifted to the driver’s seat. He started the car and drove slowly behind her walk of shame.

When she arrived back at the start, Jubilee quickly fell into Kurt’s arms. She sobbed into his tight embrace as they both reassured each other that driving was, indeed, terrifying. Logan found them both to be a bit dramatic and turned to Laura for her opinion. She rolled her eyes, her lips forming a straight line, silently agreeing with him. He loved having a mini version of himself, so he chuckled and tossed the car keys her way. Laura caught them effortlessly and made her way to the driver's seat. 

The novelty of having a miniature version of himself wore off quickly when Logan realized his mini-me also came with his temper. Laura was stubborn and headstrong; she wanted to do things her way and was not the best at taking instructions. Laura quickly settled into the driver's seat and started the car. Logan hadn't finished his safety briefing when she confidently put the car into drive and began accelerating.

She was comfortable behind the wheel, he’d give her that, but how she handled the vehicle was too comfortable for his liking. “Alright, Laura, don’t take that turn too hard!” Logan said as he gripped the safety handle above the window. The tires squealed as she confidently maneuvered between the light posts, letting out an excited giggle. Logan wasn’t sure where she had learned to drive, but he knew it wasn’t from him. As she drove, she kept her foot above the gas pedal, releasing it and pressing it to accelerate faster, causing Logan to lurch forward in his seat.

“Laura, easy on the gas pedal.” Logan started to feel nauseous from her driving. “Keep a steady speed!”

“I’m not going that fast!” she replied snarkily as she stomped on the brake at the stop sign. Logan’s body leaned forward and gave her a serious look, but she shook her head at him dismissively. Forgetting to look left before turning right, she peeled into the cross-street, crossing the double-yellow lines and narrowly missing an oncoming car.

“Ay!” Logan shouted as their car swerved back into its lane. “You need to look both ways before turning! And where the fuck was your turn signal?” Despite having completed countless dangerous missions with the X-Men, his heart raced with uncertainty about whether he would make it home safely. Laura didn’t reply, and he continued, “Now you’re too close to these parked cars, move over!”

“C’mon, I’m totally fine!” Laura raised her voice, a mix of irritation and excitement coursing through her veins. She wanted to prove to Logan that she could drive, but his nagging only fueled her frustration. The tips of her claws began slowly extending from her knuckles as she tightly gripped the steering wheel. Logan quickly saw the silver of the blades shining in the daylight.

“Laura, if you're going to have an attitude with me, we’re turning back now.” Logan’s voice was stern yet guarded. She was feisty when upset, and he wasn’t sure what her next move would be. He watched her hands as Laura ignored him and continued driving down the main road, exceeding the recommended speed limit. As they approached the stop sign, Logan gave her ten seconds to make the appropriate turn back to the parking lot, but Laura turned the car in the opposite direction.

“That’s it, you’re done!” Logan barked, pulling the parking brake and bringing the car to a lurching halt. Laura growled as her fists twisted the steering wheel, her four blades unfurling instantly. Her pride took over, and her quick temper bled through. Reacting to her outburst, Logan unsheathed the claws from one of his fists. He caught himself quickly and took a deep breath, not wanting to set a bad example of how to act when things didn’t go her way.

“We’re not about to fight over this,” he said as he retracted his claws. “I’ll take you out next time, but you have to follow my instructions.” He watched as Laura huffed in frustration, holding his gaze until she finally withdrew her blades.

Ashamed and angry, she shifted the car into park and climbed out of the driver’s seat. He was surprised by how quickly she gave in, but he didn’t hesitate, swiftly swapping seats with her. Neither of them spoke a word to each other for the entire ride back. 

The teens could feel the tension between the two Wolverines as they exited the car, and they all wisely refrained from commenting. Laura crossed her arms and glared at Logan before finding a seat next to Kurt. She whispered in his ear, and he nodded in agreement. In a cloud of blue smoke, the two were gone. Logan exhaled loudly, clearly annoyed. There was one more teen to teach driving lessons, and Gambit stood up, eager to get into the driver's seat.

It was the fourth time that day Logan had given his safety speech, and he hoped it would be the last for a long while. But to his surprise, Gambit listened intently, his intense eyes hanging onto every word. He nodded as he followed along with every step Logan explained and even repeated back the names of the different gear positions and buttons. Logan was surprised by his genuine curiosity and was eager to see what the Cajun would do.

Gambit genuinely tried his best to impress Logan, but demonstrating what he’d learned fell short. They successfully made a large loop around the parking lot, narrowly avoiding running over the parking blocks. Logan could tell Gambit was nervous when it came time to practice backing up but encouraged him to try his best. Gambit put the car into reverse and tapped the gas pedal a little too hard. The car flew backward and rear-ended a light post.

“Ah, sorry!” Gambit’s face turned red with embarrassment as Logan winced at the sound of crunched metal. Logan took a moment to breathe and assured Gambit that it would be okay as he exited the car to examine the damages.

Unfortunately, Gambit indeed accelerated more than he should have, and the trunk of the car was crushed inwards. The lid to the trunk floated above its proper position, barely hanging on by one hinge. Bits of metal and broken tail lights littered the ground around the back of the car. The impact left a noticeable dent on the light post as well. Logan brought his hand to his forehead and sighed. He knew Hank would be annoyed at having to fix this mess, but at least this was the X-Men's daily driver and not the jet. As Logan made his way to return to the passenger seat, he heard a rustle and groan from the inside of the trunk. He cautiously lifted the crushed lid of the trunk and was immediately fueled with intense iration. 

“Who’s been driving? You or Storm? Because whoever it is should really have their license revoked,” Wade laughed, his body pretzeled into the small, crushed trunk.

“Why the fuck are you in here?” Logan snarled, keeping his voice low. The last thing he wanted was to explain to the teens why a strange man was curled up in the back of the car.

“You said you were taking Storm on a date, and I wanted to make it a threesome,” Wade replied excitedly. Logan immediately grabbed his face, muffling his words with a firm hand. His grip tightened, nails digging into Wade’s masked cheeks. Leaning into the trunk, Logan brought his face close to Wade’s ear, his voice dropping to a seething whisper.

“You better not make a sound on the way back home. If you do, I’ll pull over and throw your body into oncoming traffic. And when we get home, I’ll give you five-fucking seconds to get back to your room. If you bother me again, I’ll gut you like a fucking fish where it will take you weeks to find your intestines.” Logan’s face was red-hot, a vein bulging from his neck.

Every day the teens tested Logan’s patience, but they were young and clueless, unaware of how big the world was. Deadpool on the other hand, was a fully-grown adult who pestered him purely for amusement, just to get under his skin. Logan shoved Wade deeper into the trunk and slammed the broken lid shut.

“Papa honey badger sure is angry today,” Wade said to himself in the darkness of the trunk. He rolled over and quietly hummed a song with the title of coffee or cappuccino or something.

The ride home was long, quiet, and painfully awkward. The car emitted a funny clunking noise at every stop and let out a strained whine whenever Logan pressed the accelerator. He assured the teens they weren’t in trouble, attempting to mask his frustration, and suggested that fixing the broken car parts would be a fun project for Hank to tackle. Despite his calm tone, Rogue, Gambit, and Jubilee could sense the toll the day had taken on him. They exchanged guilty glances, knowing full well how heated Logan had been after inspecting the crushed trunk.

Logan’s thoughts drifted to Laura and her reaction during their lesson. Her stubbornness and quick temper had made the experience more challenging than he’d anticipated, and her decision to teleport home with Kurt still lingered in his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d handled things the right way or if he’d pushed her too hard. He knew he was a good teacher, but maybe this pseudo-fatherhood approach was getting in the way.

As the car limped along, Logan felt the weight of the day pressing down on him. Surviving the whirlwind of teenage emotions had drained him, and he craved stability and quiet—a rare commodity in his life. For now, though, he focused on getting everyone home in one piece, hoping this evening would be calmer.

As they pulled up to the mansion, Storm greeted them in the driveway. Her soft smile warmed Logan’s heart, melting away the lingering stress in his body. He returned the gesture, smiling as he waved her closer and rolled the window down to greet her.

“I need to bring the car out back. We had a little accident,” Logan admitted, tilting his head toward the damaged trunk. Ororo’s eyes flicked to the back of the car, and she winced at the sight. “We’ll have Hank take a look at it, but meet me in the garage?” he added. She nodded in agreement, watching Logan steer the car behind the mansion.

With everyone finally out of his hair—especially Deadpool—Logan headed to the garage. The room was lined with various modes of transportation, each waiting to be claimed, but his attention was drawn to his favorite: his motorcycle. Sleek and low to the ground, it was built for speed and comfort, with enough room to seat two easily. It wasn’t just fast—it roared like a beast and delivered an adrenaline rush that Logan relished every time he rode. He leaned in closer, his gaze tracing the polished curves and the undeniable power of the machine until he heard the sound of familiar footsteps behind him.

“You know,” Ororo said, her voice warm and playful. “You’ve never taken me out on your motorcycle.” 

“I’d love to do the honor,” Logan rose to his feet and turned to her with a smile. “You’re not nervous, right?”

“With you? I’m never nervous.” She replied.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

With every turn of the motorcycle, Ororo leaned closer to Logan, her arms wrapped tightly around his muscular frame, her hands pressed firmly against his chest. The steady rumble of the engine beneath them seemed to echo the rhythm of her heartbeat, a mix of calm and exhilaration. She felt vulnerable to the elements but safe on the back of his bike, and the closeness of their bodies sent a thrill coursing through her. 

Her chest rested against his sturdy back, a strength forged by the weight of his adamantium skeleton. The feel of his muscles beneath his shirt stirred something deep within her, a quiet longing she couldn’t ignore. Her fingers gripped the soft fabric of his flannel shirt, her thumb tracing slow, deliberate patterns across it as if memorizing its soft texture. Ororo’s knees tucked behind his legs, a position unfamiliar yet undeniably intimate. Her body moved fluidly with his, mirroring his every lean into the turns. It felt like a secret dance, one where he led with effortless control, and she followed, trusting him completely.

Ororo rested her chin in the crook of his neck, her gaze fixed steadily on the road ahead. The scruff of his beard brushed against her soft cheek, a rough yet comforting sensation. In her closeness his scent enveloped her, musky and earthy, with notes of leather and a faint trace of tobacco. The combination was new to her and she couldn’t get enough. 

Ororo's thoughts drifted to how long she had known Logan. Their friendship stretched back further than she could pinpoint, and their years as teachers together at the school felt just as enduring. In the eyes of the students, their bond had always appeared purely professional, yet there were fleeting moments—those stolen glances between classes that hinted at something deeper. The school years were always a whirlwind of responsibilities, leaving little time for anything beyond work. She often found herself wishing for more chances to spend meaningful time with him.

Summers were no different; Logan had a habit of disappearing for a while, off to wherever his restless soul took him, while she would leave New York in search of her own adventures. But this summer felt different. For once, both of them had stayed behind, and the long, unhurried days gave her space to breathe, and to hope. Maybe this was her chance to finally seek out something more, to embrace the lightness and freedom summer offered. Logan was more than just her colleague or friend; he was mysterious, fiercely intelligent, and undeniably handsome. He brought an edge of excitement wherever he went, a magnetic pull she couldn’t resist. He was here this summer. So why couldn’t she allow herself to have a little fun too?

The deep, throaty rumble of the motorcycle faded into constant white noise, seamlessly blending with the blurred world rushing past them. It was just the two of them, a moment stripped to its core, a rare gem of simplicity, vulnerability, and trust shared between their bodies. The connection grounded her in the present, a bond that felt both profoundly intimate and beautifully unspoken. 

Logan kept his eyes on the road ahead, but it was a battle to stay focused. With a beautiful, powerful goddess of a woman like Ororo holding tightly to him, the distraction was impossible to ignore. He had never wanted to admit it, but there had always been something about her that left him feeling slightly intimidated. Perhaps it was her commanding presence or the quiet confidence she carried that only made him more reserved and nervous whenever she was near.

But this summer was different. The usual walls he'd built around himself crumbled, leaving him with a newfound sense of ease and confidence when it came to Ororo. Maybe it was because Jean wasn’t there, as her best friend and his old crush, she was a familiar presence who might have complicated things. Or maybe it was the absence of the usual chaos of students, whose needs kept him busy during the school year. Summers had always been a time for him to retreat, find peace, and escape the weight of the world. Yet this summer felt unlike any before it.

For the first time, he longed for something more, for someone to share the long, warm nights with. And Ororo, with her strength, her grace, and the spark she ignited in him, was someone he couldn’t help but welcome into that quiet space he typically reserved only for himself. He wanted to spend the summer getting lost with her, leaving behind the noise of the world and discovering something that was just theirs.

Logan guided the motorcycle up the winding road to the mountain’s summit, bringing the bike to a smooth stop. Just ahead, between the trees, a clearing revealed a breathtaking viewpoint. A large wooden bench faced outward, framing an incredible panorama of the sprawling valley below: rolling green hills, towering trees, and a vast river weaving through it all. The warm air carried a faint coolness as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, painting the sky in deep scarlet, orange, and gold hues.

As Logan leaned the bike over to rest it, he extended a hand to Ororo to help her off. She slid gracefully from the seat but didn’t release his hand, letting her fingers linger in his as though neither wanted to break the connection.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Logan said, his voice breaking the silence as they walked hand in hand toward the bench. Ororo adjusted her grip, intertwining her fingers with his, and smiled softly. “I come up here when I need to get away from it all,” he added, his gaze fixed on the sweeping view before them.

Ororo glanced at him, then turned her eyes to the valley below. The viewpoint was far removed from the noise of main roads or towns. Only the gentle rustling of the wind and bird songs filled the air. She could see why he would come here alone.

“But you’ve been spending more time around the mansion these days,” she remarked dryly, her teasing tone accompanied by a wink.

Logan shrugged, his gaze remaining on the horizon. “The kids need me,” he said simply, though the edge of weariness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. It was true, time for himself had been scarce lately.

“Do they?” Ororo challenged, turning her body toward him, her icy blue eyes searching his face. “Or do you need them?”

Her words hung in the air, giving him a sharp pang in the heart. He avoided her eyes and continued to stare outwards. She wasn’t wrong. From the end of the school year into summer break, Logan had kept himself occupied with his role as a leader and their professor, never allowing himself a moment to breathe and remember who he was outside of the weight of responsibility. And now, with his newly adopted role as Laura’s father figure, there was an unshakable sense of duty driving him; a need to mentor her, to provide stability as her pseudo-father and Wolverine.

He stood in silence for a moment, her question lingering in his mind as he reflected on the whirlwind of the past few weeks. Ororo caught the flicker of conflict in his eyes and softened her tone. Bringing her other hand to rest gently on his bicep, she said, “You deserve time off too, Logan.”

He turned to face her, their eyes meeting. Bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, she looked even more radiant than he had ever noticed before. “You’re right,” he admitted, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips. "But what I really want is to spend more time with you.”

Logan brought his rugged hands to her soft cheeks and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her with a deep, unrelenting hunger, a longing that had been simmering within him, desperate to be fulfilled. Her plush lips against his felt exactly as he had imagined: soft yet electrifying in more ways than one. She was brimming with excitement as their kiss deepened, and she could feel the shared energy coursing between them. She kissed him passionately, with the same longing desire she had fantasized about for so long.

A playful breeze swirled around them, lifting leaves and urging their bodies even closer. Logan placed one firm hand on her waist and the other at the back of her neck. As he held her close, his fingers wove through her luscious hair. Ororo leaned in, her hands caressing his scruffy cheeks before wrapping around his broad shoulders. Through heavy breaths and quiet moans, their lips barely parted. The energy of an unspoken desire pulsated between them. Logan traced his tongue along the fullness of her bottom lip, savoring her taste. His animalistic instincts flared deep within, and though he tried to suppress them, he couldn’t resist grazing her lip with his teeth in a gentle nip.

Ororo inhaled sharply, a soft gasp escaping her as she pulled her lips away just enough for her breath to mingle with his. She giggled with excitement, fully aware that he was holding himself back. Falling back into him, her lips met his once more, and their kiss continued, unyielding and filled with everything they had both longed for.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Chapter Text

“ Logan ,” Charles Xavier’s voice eerily echoed in Logan’s mind. “ Logan, come to my office. ” 

Logan was jolted awake in a cold sweat. He gasped for air, close to hyperventilating as he glanced around his room, searching for the Professor. ‘Chuck, are you alright?’ Logan thought, hoping his message could somehow be heard. It was early morning, but the summer heat was already cruel. His room felt hot and stuffy, and the day’s temperature was expected to climb even higher. Suddenly, his phone vibrated on the bedside table, startling him. He reached over and quickly checked the notification.

═════ Message ═════

[Chuck] My apologies, I didn’t know you were sleeping.

[Logan] Next time, can you be normal and send a text or knock on my door or something?

[Chuck] Yes. Sorry. 

[Logan] I’ll be right there…

═════════════════

Logan groaned in annoyance and rolled out of bed. He pulled on the pair of jeans he had left on the floor the night before, along with the shirt lying next to them. He picked up on the lingering scent of Storm that clung to the fabric, along with a single curly white hair. After their motorcycle ride together, their lips met again, stealing kisses in the shadows of the garden. His hands had explored every curve of her, while she clung to his muscular frame. Heat built between them as they found themselves taking turns being pressed against the mansion’s brick wall, their lips tracing each other’s cheeks, necks, and chests. Ororo had suggested taking their fun inside, but Logan worried about the likelihood of being interrupted, discovered, or overheard.

His heart ached as he walked her to her apartment door and kissed her goodnight, his body yearning for the next time they could be completely alone. His mind wandered, and a worry crept in– what if Professor Xavier had found out about their romantic evening? Perhaps he was about to get a stern lecture on professionalism and setting a good example for the students. He sighed as he tousled his hair out of his face, but his signature tufts stayed put. 

“Please, come sit,” Professor Xavier said as Logan entered his office. Ororo was already there, seated in front of him. Logan’s heart sank with the sinking realization that he might have done something wrong. Taking a seat beside Ororo, he gave her a nervous glance and nodded in greeting. She squinted her eyes and smiled, her nose scrunching playfully.

“Logan, you’ve been a great role model for the students who stayed over the summer break. Ororo mentioned that you even took them out for driving lessons!” Professor Xavier smiled and brought his hands together in excitement. 

Logan nodded, a sense of accomplishment swelling within him. From multiple trips to the store, taking the students out for meals, and even teaching them how to drive, he was glad someone had noticed and appreciated the countless hours he had dedicated to them.

“And with that, I want to thank you,” The professor continued with a smile. “Why don’t you take the next few days off? Take the jet and go somewhere nice.” 

“And who’s going to watch the kids?” Logan quickly replied, but Ororo placed her hand on his forearm. He turned to her, and she subtly shook her head, signaling him to stop. He narrowed his eyes in confusion as a mischievous smile began to creep across her face. In that moment, he realized this had been her plan all along, and he could only hope the Professor wasn’t reading their minds.

“You know what? They’ll be fine,” Logan said confidently as he rose to his feet, extending a hand to Storm to lift her out of her seat. “And Ororo is coming with me.”

The professor nodded in approval, offering a cheeky wink, almost like a blessing, before dismissing them from his office. Relief flooded Logan’s chest, grateful for the rare chance to take a break from it all, and even more thankful for Ororo, who had pushed him to recognize he needed it. 

“I remember you wanted me to take you up north,” Logan said, letting his hand brush against hers as they walked closely down the long hallway. He kept his voice low, wary of any eavesdroppers. “It’s not beautiful like the tropics or exciting like the city…”

“I’m just happy to spend some time with you,” she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Go pack your bag. I’ll meet you outside when you’re ready.”

Logan packed his bag quickly, though he didn’t have much to bring– just a shirt or two, underwear, socks, and a toothbrush. He kept the jeans he was already wearing, hoping Ororo wasn’t expecting a fancy night out, since that wasn’t an option where they were headed. After grabbing the wool blanket from his bed and locking his apartment suite, he made his way down the hallway, but stopped in his tracks as he passed Laura’s door.

He had never needed to check in with anyone before, but now, with Laura around, it felt like the right thing to do as her pseudo-parent, at least. Knocking quietly, he heard a muffled mumble and a grunt inviting him to enter.

“Hey, kiddo,” Logan’s voice was just above a whisper as he poked his head into her room and stepped inside. Laura’s body stirred in her bed with her head hidden under the covers and her long, dark hair sprawled across the pillow. He wasn’t sure if he’d woken her or if she was still sulking from the outburst she’d had the day before. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he continued.

It took a few seconds before she sat up in bed to face him. “Yeah, me too,” she replied quietly.

“I’m going away for a few days. I figured you should know,” Logan said, awkwardly picking up a trinket from her desk and inspecting it to avoid making eye contact. “I’m heading up north, going home.”

Through her tangled dark hair, Laura narrowed her eyes and gave him the signature Wolverine glower. “Why? Canada is so boring.”

“How would you know?” Logan’s awkwardness quickly dissipated as he shot her a judgmental look and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s where your family is from. Have some respect.”

“Logan, I was born in a lab,” she smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Logan rolled his eyes at the response of his sassy teenager. “Well, I’m from Canada, and you came from me. So, you’re Canadian in spirit.”

“Whatever,” Laura began combing her long, dark hair with her fingers. “Can I come with you?”

“No,” Logan paused before continuing his sentence. For a moment, he debated sharing some insight into his personal life, but the words fell out before he could think twice. “I’m going with Oro– I mean Storm,” 

Laura raised her eyebrows with interest. Logan had never mentioned Ororo to her before, but the way he stumbled over his words as he said her name and the quick flush that crossed his cheeks confirmed her suspicions. She opened her mouth to speak, but Logan shot her a fiery look that clearly said, ‘ Don’t ask questions .’

Still, she was happy for him and whatever he had going on with Ororo. “Well then, can I come next time?” she asked with a sly smile.

“Yeah, maybe, but there’s no way you’re driving,” Logan snickered, giving her a wink as he closed her bedroom door. He heard her let out a yelp and the thud of something plush being thrown at the door, but he couldn’t help but grin; he knew they were back on good terms.

As Logan exited the mansion, the hot summer sun bore down on him, and the air was sweltering and sticky. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he approached the open field behind the mansion. The ground began to tremble as the hidden, heavy doors slid open, revealing the Blackbird rising on a massive concrete support.

Ororo stood motionless in the field, completely unfazed by the enormous jet rising from the ground next to her. The sunlight glinted off her oversized sunglasses, highlighting her striking white hair, which seemed to glisten as it tousled in the breeze. She radiated an effortless elegance that took Logan’s breath away.

His stomach twisted with excitement and a hint of nerves as he looked at her, the anticipation of spending the next few days together growing with every passing second. The rise of the Blackbird came to a halt, the deep hum of its machinery fading as the aircraft's stairs deployed. Logan stepped forward, extending his hand to Ororo. With a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed her. “Ladies first,” he murmured, his gaze soft and doting as he followed her up the stairs.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

It was the early afternoon, and Laura, Rogue, and Jubilee lounged together in the media room, their bodies lazily draped across the couch, limbs dangling over armrests and back cushions. The intense summer heat began to seep into the house, the air inside thick and stuffy despite the faint hum of the ceiling fan trying its best to cool the room. Their skin glistened with sweat as they rested in a shared, sluggish solitude, each absorbed in scrolling through their phones while half-listening to the background noise of local news on the TV. The weatherman finally appeared onscreen, and Laura reached for the remote and turned up the volume. 

The projected heatwave will extend for 3 more days, with the hottest day peaking today in triple-digit numbers. We will also see record-setting highs in Westchester County and will continue to stay warm overnight. Stay hydrated and keep cool! Now for the traffic report…

The girls collectively groaned upon hearing that no relief was on the way. As Laura turned down the TV volume, Jubilee dramatically threw her head over the armrest of the couch. “Where’s Stormy?” she whined, sprawling her body across the couch. “It’s so damn hot! We need a snowstorm!”

“I haven’t seen her since yesterday,” Rogue replied, tilting her nose upward as she fanned herself with her hand. Her signature jumpsuit, designed for all weather, felt unbearably hot and uncomfortable against her skin. “I also haven’t seen Logan since he dropped us off yesterday,” she added.

“Wait, oh my gosh, I forgot to tell you,” Jubilee’s eyes widened with a mischievous glint as a sly smile spread across her face. She let the suspense hang in the air as she rolled off the couch and onto the floor. “Last night I saw Storm on the back of Logan’s motorcycle.”

“Oh my!” Rogue gasped, leaning in close to mirror Jubilee’s excitement. “Do ya think they’re, like, together?” She glanced at her friends for approval, biting her lower lip as a grin took over her face. 

Jubilee and Rogue squealed with delight, while Laura grabbed her large water bottle and began sipping through the straw, choosing to stay quiet. Her silence was loud, and the girls knew immediately that she knew something about the couple. Scooting themselves closer to Laura on the couch, they playfully cornered her. 

“Laura,” Rogue tilted her head to charm her friend. “Are they a thing?” 

Laura raised her eyebrows and shrugged, continuing to sip loudly from the straw of her water bottle. She tried her best to appear coy, but her lack of response told them everything they wanted to know. The girls shrieked with excitement, and Laura smiled, feeling happy to be included in the gossip of their teacher’s love life. 

Suddenly, the glow of the TV disappeared, plunging the room into abrupt silence. The ceiling fan overhead slowed to a halt, and without its familiar hum, the house fell eerily quiet. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and almost immediately, the temperature began to climb. The stillness of the power outage was unsettling, and the girls rose to their feet. Standing close together at ready positions, they listened intently, trying to determine if this was a simple electrical grid blackout or a potential threat to the mansion. 

“Let’s go,” Rogue commanded, taking the lead as she guided the girls into the hallway. Jubilee and Rogue kept their fists clenched, prepared to strike if necessary, while Laura unsheathed her claws. The three of them were ready to face whatever danger awaited. Although their real-world combat experience was limited, the countless hours they had spent training in the Danger Room filled them with the appropriate confidence.

Laura sniffed the air, her heightened senses sharp and alert, before thrusting a clawed hand in the direction of the backyard. “I smell smoke… something burning… outside!” she announced with urgency. Rogue and Jubilee exchanged a glance and nodded in confirmation. Without hesitation, they followed Laura down the long hallway to the kitchen, their hearts pounding with anticipation.

Throwing open the back door, the girls leaped into their action poses, ready to confront whatever threat awaited outside. To their surprise, they found two young men standing sheepishly in front of an air conditioning unit that was spewing thick black smoke into the sweltering air.

“Oh, hey,” Gambit said nervously, letting out a strained laugh as he scratched the back of his head. Beside him, Kurt offered an anxious smile, clasping his hands behind his back in an obvious attempt to look innocent. The two exchanged a hesitant glance, their expressions betraying the fact that they had royally messed up.

“What the bloody hell are y’all doin’?” Rogue shouted, quickly grabbing the garden hose and twisting the faucet handle to turn on the water. Thick, dark smoke billowed from the unit, and flashes of flame flickered from within. Without hesitation, she sprayed the unit until the smoke and fire were extinguished.

“We were trying to make the air colder, so we came out here to see if we could, uh, fix it,” Gambit replied vaguely, clearly fumbling for an excuse. The girls exchanged looks of collective confusion.

“And he got angry and threw a charged card into it, and it exploded,” Kurt blurted out, grimacing as he turned away to stifle his nervous laughter.

“Why would you do that?” Laura snapped, glaring at them with her arms crossed. Her tone was sharp enough to make both men avoid her piercing gaze and turn away.

“You guys are so freakin’ stupid.” Jubilee followed with her hands upon her hips. “Now the power is out and we don’t have AC... and it’s hot as balls out!” 

The boys both abashedly muttered an ‘ I’m sorry ’ under their breath, but the girls continued to berate them. 

“Remy, yuh better go find Hank and see if he can fix this,” Rogue ordered. Her intense scowl made it clear just how disappointed she was in the immaturity of his actions. Of all people, she was the last person Gambit wanted to upset, especially with how smoothly their summer fling was going until now.

Guilt pressed down on him as he stole a glance at the girls, their furious stares searing into him. Sweat shimmered upon their cheeks under the relentless summer sun, a vivid, unforgiving reminder of how disastrously his choices had unfolded.

With a nod of reluctant agreement, Gambit slunk back into the house, his footsteps heavy with regret as he hurried through the long hallways toward Hank’s lab. He knocked on the lab door, but there was no response. After a second knock yielded the same silence, he decided to let himself in.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the faint glow of red emergency lights, casting eerie shadows across the space. Hank’s lab was as chaotic as ever, cluttered with stacks of books, loose papers, and an assortment of strange gadgets. Gambit’s curiosity quickly got the better of him as he began to pick up and examine various mysterious items.

One object in particular caught his attention: a bracelet adorned with metal beads engraved with purple inscriptions in an unfamiliar script. He turned it over in his hands, intrigued by its craftsmanship and purpose. A mischievous thought crossed his mind, and he considered it a potential apology gift for his girl. Carefully tucking the bracelet into his pocket, Gambit resumed his search, scanning the cluttered lab for any sign of Hank.

He finally found him. The power outage hadn’t seemed to affect Hank, nor had he noticed it as the scientist was sound asleep, snoring softly in his chair with a heavy book resting in his lap. Gambit stepped forward, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to shake Hank's shoulder to wake him. The large blue beast snorted as he awoke, sputtering in surprise. 

“Remy!” Hank gasped, startled and confused as to why his student was in the lab. His gaze darted around, taking in the unfamiliar dim glow of the emergency lights. “Why are the emergency lights on? Are you alright?” He quickly rose to his feet, his imposing figure towering over the young Cajun.

“Yes, sir, we’re okay,” Gambit replied, instinctively taking a step back to create some space between them. “We had an incident with the AC unit and, uh, now the power’s out.”

“And I’m assuming you need my help?” Hank chuckled, adjusting his glasses to get a clearer look at Gambit. The young man offered a nervous smile, his hands clasped behind his back as guilt weighed on him. Without wanting to elaborate further, Gambit simply nodded. 

“Alright,” Hank agreed. “Let me get my tools.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Gambit’s kinetically charged outburst had wreaked havoc on the AC unit. The fact that it was an older model didn’t help, but his actions destroyed the interior, leaving Hank with no choice but to make an impromptu trip to the hardware store to gather obscure AC parts that weren’t even available in his lab.

As the heatwave intensified, so did the stifling internal temperature of the mansion. The air was stagnant and oppressive, turning the rooms into hot, suffocating spaces. In the entrance room, the teens sprawled across the tiled floor, seeking whatever relief they could from the faint coolness of the tiles beneath their skin. Exhausted from the relentless heat, they all began to drift off into a shared nap, their eyes fluttering shut as their breathing deepened.

The sweltering heat and rising sleepiness dulled their senses, leaving them oblivious to the faint sound of unfamiliar footsteps echoing down the hallway. The steps grew closer, stopping abruptly at the entrance room.

Wade stood over them, his intensely scarred skin exposed to the suffocating humidity and wearing nothing but shark-themed swim trunks and his heavy combat boots. 

“Whatcha all doin’ on the floor?” he cheerfully asked, breaking the silence as a wide, toothy grin spread across his maskless face.

The teens’ eyes fluttered open, their blurred vision gradually sharpening as they registered the sight above them. Realization hit like a wave, and with it, they erupted into terrified screams echoing through the room. They all quickly brought themselves to their seats and scooted themselves across the smooth floor, distancing themselves from the unknown man.

“Who the hell are you?” Rogue demanded, positioning herself as if ready to jump and lunge towards the intruder.

Laura quickly extended an arm, blocking her friend from charging forward. “It’s just Wade,” she muttered, shaking her head in annoyance.

“That’s Deadpool to you!” Wade barked, pointing a dramatic finger at Laura. His eyes narrowed as recognition dawned on him. “Wait, hold up… you’re that tiny Wolverine that stabbed me!” He stepped closer to Laura, but she sprang to her feet in an instant, standing her ground despite the considerable height difference between them.

“Yeah… Why were you in the bushes, anyway?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as her sharp gaze tracked his every move. Wade hesitated, struggling to come up with an answer that wouldn’t incriminate him further.

“And why are you so ugly?” Jubilee chimed in, wrinkling her nose in exaggerated disgust as her eyes trailed over his exposed, rough, and scarred skin. 

Wade gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Oh my god, Karen, you can’t just ask people why they’re ugly!” he exclaimed, mimicking an exaggerated and overly dramatic teenage girl voice. The room fell silent as everyone stared at him blankly, clearly unaware he was referencing the iconic and critically acclaimed comedy Mean Girls (2004). Unbothered by their lack of recognition, he continued, “I just woke up and saw the power was out, so I came out here to see what was going on.”

“Wait, why are you here? Do you live here or something?” Kurt asked, tilting his head in confusion. It was a fair question, and the teens exchanged puzzled glances, silently agreeing with his point.

“Don’t worry about it,” Wade replied nonchalantly, dismissing the inquiry with a tut as he shot them with double finger guns. The gesture did nothing to lighten the mood; the teens remained unimpressed, and the already stifling air in the room was now thick with awkwardness, confusion, and the odd smell of Wade.

“So, can ya take us to go get ice cream or somethin’?” Gambit interjected, changing the subject for the better.

“Bold of you to assume I have a valid driver's license,” Wade put his hands on his hips and scoffed. A smug grin spread across his face before he continued, “But I do have a better idea… Do y’all want to go swimming?” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

After much convincing, Wade finally sold the idea of leaving the property to explore a nearby lake. The mansion had a lap pool, but to the teens, an adventure sounded far more exciting. They all followed him eagerly out the front door, except for Laura, who remained skeptical. Her fist tightened as fragments of memory flashed through her mind, the night she had gone into a berserker rage against the strange man in the garden. Her mind then wandered to Logan and his passive remark about Wade. Logan said he was annoying and stinky, and with that, she was safe to assume he was not much of a threat. 

Laura stayed close behind the merc, analyzing his every move. For a trained assassin, he walked with an oddly bouncy pep in his step, humming cheerfully when he wasn’t talking to anyone willing to listen. Slung over his back was a child-sized backpack, pink and covered in cute keychains. She wondered what was inside, but after a quick sniff, she caught the scent of sunscreen, cookies, gunpowder– and him. His skin was intensely scarred and weathered, with only a few hairs atop his head. Yet somehow, his perfect smile remained intact, and despite his strange ways, there was an undeniable charm about him. He was an odd one, alright.

“So, how’d you find this place?” Laura’s soft yet gravelly voice startled Wade from behind. He stopped in his tracks, letting her catch up before falling into step beside her. 

“I was bored one night and was looking at the map app on my phone.” He replied, playfully swinging his arms as he gave Laura a cheeky grin. 

Laura’s eyebrows met as she looked at him with confusion. “So you haven’t been here before?” 

“Nope!” He shrugged and gave her a nervous chuckle. 

Laura sighed in bewilderment and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her mouth was open to speak, but she wanted to pick her next words carefully. Finally finding the words, “And you’re sure we can swim there?” 

“I guess we’ll find out!” Wade exclaimed, his voice loud and insistent as he ushered the teens toward a hole in the chain-link fence at the entrance that bore a faded and weathered sign that read Keep Out . 

Wade kept glancing over his shoulder, his movements suspiciously hurried as though he feared someone might catch them. With a short walk through some trees and bushes, they finally reached the shoreline. Wade let out a dramatic sigh of relief upon discovering the area was deserted, free of any other visitors. The teens trusted the merc without hesitation, neglecting to check their surroundings as they began setting up camp on the rocky sand of the shoreline.

Beach towels were rolled out, and one by one, they shed their outer layers to reveal the swimsuits they wore underneath. With Gambit and Kurt in swim trunks, and Laura and Jubilee in two-pieces, Rogue, however, surprised everyone by wearing a sleek one-piece that exposed her shoulders, arms, and legs, a change from her signature full-body suit. Her friends shot her looks of surprise, but she ignored them by tying up her hair and casually strolling towards the water. Her body shivered as the hot summer sun kissed her fair skin, and for the first time all day, she felt that she could finally breathe. 

Following her lead, Laura, Jubilee, Kurt, and Gambit made their way into the lake. The cool water washed away the sticky humidity that lingered on their skin and provided relief from the hot summer sun. Time passed slowly as they laughed and shouted, treading water and taking turns swimming to the bottom to collect smooth rocks and show off what they had found. As none of their mutant powers had any effect on water, for a short moment, they all felt like normal teenagers. 

“Okay, everyone!” Wade shouted, abruptly pulling everyone’s attention away from playing in the water. He sat at the shore and rummaged through his backpack. With exaggerated urgency, he thrusted a tube of sunscreen into the air. “It’s time to lube up!”

The teens' faces replied with disgust and confusion, but Wade was insistent that they join him on the shore and apply sunscreen. Squeezing a large dollop of SPF 85 into each of their palms, he preached to them about the severity of skin cancer. 

Dear Reader, did you know skin cancers are the most common group of cancers diagnosed worldwide? You can prevent it by wearing broad-spectrum sunscreen with an SPF of 15 or higher! Trust me! Look at me, I’m disgusting. Do you want to look like me? - dp

The teens begrudgingly cooperated, helping the ones without fur apply sunscreen to the hard-to-reach spots. Rogue, however, kept to herself by standing off to the side, awkwardly extending and twisting her arms in an attempt to cover her back.

“Chérie! Let me help you!” Gambit called out, rushing over to assist and grabbing the tube of sunscreen from Wade’s hand. Before Rogue could protest, she felt his hands touch her exposed skin, and her vision shifted. 

Unfamiliar memories in a hazy purple tint flashed before her eyes: glimpses of life in Louisiana, a young boy, and the thrill of being a thief, all while a powerful surge of kinetic energy charged through her veins. She gasped, jerking her body away from his touch. He had been able to touch her in the past, but was it because he had caught her by surprise?

Rogue screamed in horror as Gambit fell backward onto the sand, his body frigid and gasping for air. Kurt rushed over, pulling his friend into his lap and propping him up to help him breathe. The few seconds of suffocation felt like minutes, but Gambit finally began sputtering, panting as he caught his breath.

“Remy, ah’m so sorry!” Rogue cried, falling to her knees and reaching out to him. But he recoiled in panic, his wide, frightened eyes filling her with a stinging sense of dread. “I don’t know what happened!” she sobbed, tears streaming down her face. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Gambit said, his voice strained but accompanied by a genuine smile. His initial reaction was to reach out and hold her hand, but his grasp found only air. The inability to comfort her hit him like an icy wave, and all he wanted was to reassure her that he was truly alright. He tried his best to hold back tears, but his heart ached as he saw his girl struggle with wanting to console him and cursing her powers of inability to touch. 

Laura, Jubilee, and Wade moved closer to form a protective circle around them, but Laura quickly lifted her nose to the air and unsheathed her claws. “We’ve got company,” she growled, her sharp gaze scanning the perimeter of the surrounding woodlands.

“Why are y’all on my property? Can’t you mutants read? Keep out!” a deep voice snarled as a dark silhouette of a large man emerged. In his hands, he carried a rifle, the barrel pointed downward. Narrowing his eyes, his anger was visible, and he raised the rifle to aim it at the trespassers.

“Everybody hold on!” Kurt cried out, gripping Gambit tightly and placing his other hand on Rogue’s covered waist. Laura, Jubilee, and Wade quickly latched onto Kurt’s arms and shoulders. In an instant, a cloud of blue smoke enveloped them, and they found themselves back on the floor of the mansion’s foyer. The tiles and air were cold, suggesting that Hank had successfully repaired the air conditioning unit, but Rogue’s body felt hot from a swell of intense emotions. 

Freeing herself from Kurt’s grip, Rogue bolted down the hallway to her room, her mind racing with thousands of thoughts. Confusion consumed her; why had she been able to touch Remy before, even kiss him, but not now? Fear gnawed at her as she relived the moment she unwillingly used her powerful mutant abilities to delve into his memories and absorb his power. Shame weighed heavily on her as she recalled how she had hurt him, no matter how many times he insisted he was okay. Anger with herself mingled with the guilt of bearing powers she had never asked for. She was overcome with despair. Would she ever be able to touch the man she loved? She threw herself onto her bed and sobbed into her pillow, overwhelmed by the multitude of emotions coursing through her veins. 

 ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The sun was low on the horizon, and Rogue lay silently on her bed. She hadn’t moved since the afternoon, still in her swimsuit, her skin prickling from the cold central air. The room was still, the shadows of the day lengthening against her bedroom wall as darkness gradually enveloped the space. She had cried until no more tears would come and whimpered until her body could no longer muster the strength. The pain she had inflicted on Gambit wasn’t lethal, but the ache in her heart felt unbearable. She longed to touch him again, to feel his lips against hers. Yet, after what had happened that day, she knew she might never be touched again. As the weight of this realization settled over her, tears welled in her eyes once more, and she began to quietly cry.

A soft knock on her door broke her trance, and the door opened. It was Gambit. He quickly slipped into her bedroom and closed the door behind him. He had changed into a cropped t-shirt and gym shorts and made his way to sit at the end of Rogue’s bed.

“Sorry for bein’ a freakin’ idiot today,” he said softly as she sat up in her bed. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and his heart twinged. He cared about her so deeply and hated seeing her so upset.

“Well, ah’m sorry for hurtin’ you,” she replied, her wide eyes filled with moroseness. The guilt of her powers weighed heavily on her, but she knew it was a burden she’d have to live with. All she wanted was to hug him and hold him close, but she was still in her one-piece, her arms, legs, and shoulders exposed.

“I’m fine, I promise,” Gambit said, giving her a reassuring nod. She could tell he was hesitant as he slightly jerked his body forward, as if to go in for a hug, but stopped himself, remembering he couldn’t. An awkward pause hung in the air before Gambit’s eyebrows suddenly lifted with excitement. “I have somethin’ for you. An ‘I’m sorry’ gift.”

“Aw, sugah,” Rogue exclaimed as she curiously watched Gambit reach into his pocket. Extending his hand and opening his palm, he revealed a simple bracelet with dark metal beads. She carefully plucked it from his hand, studying the purple inscriptions engraved into each bead. It was light to the touch, and she slipped it onto her wrist. “It’s beautiful!” She affirmed and gave him a friendly smile. 

The bracelet fit perfectly on her wrist. The inscriptions on the beads began to glow and radiate a gentle warmth against her skin. Almost instantly, she felt the muscles in her body relax, as though the power coursing through her veins had dimmed slightly. A soothing numbness settled over her body, subtle yet comforting. Her mind quieted; the racing thoughts stilled, leaving her feeling calm and centered. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but she felt safe and warm. 

“Oof, I must be dehydrated or somethin’. I feel…” Rogue trailed off, rubbing her forehead with one hand, only to realize her other hand rested on Gambit’s. She gasped, quickly pulling her hand away, but his expression mirrored her surprise. “Now, where’d ya get this bracelet again?” she asked, tentatively reaching for his hand and interlacing their fingers. No visions. No intake of energy. No power surged between them. Just the simplicity of human touch. 

“Uhh,” Gambit nervously laughed as he held her hand so tightly as if this would be his last. “I found it in Hank’s lab…” Rogue smiled and shook her head in delight. Once a thief, always a thief, she thought to herself. 

She released her fingers from his grip and examined the bracelet once more. The inscription glowed brighter as it pressed against her skin. Sliding the bracelet off her wrist, she felt her body begin to hum with energy. Her senses sharpened, colors in the room growing brighter and more vivid. Her heartbeat quickened, and a flicker of anxiety stirred deep within her. Confused yet intrigued by the bracelet’s peculiar effects, she carefully slipped it back onto her wrist. Almost instantly, the soothing numbness returned, washing over her body and leaving her feeling comfortably calm. 

“Ah think this thing is a power suppressant,” She muttered as she flipped her wrist over and back to inspect the purple glow emanating from the beads. A mischievous smile crept across her face when she realized the power of her new sense of control. 

Bringing her bare hand to Gambit’s cheek, she touched him. He didn’t flinch, allowing her fingers to trace the soft warmth of his cheeks and the scratchy hairs along his jawline. She let the back of her fingers glide down his neck, humid from the heat, and onto the softness of his cotton t-shirt. Her hands moved to his shoulders, caressing them before trailing to his muscular biceps. She had only ever touched him through the barrier of her gloves, but now, feeling his firm muscles and warm skin, everything felt vividly real. She gave him a playful squeeze, confirming that the young man before her was truly there. He giggled at her touch, and Rogue sighed with relief, her eyes filled with doting affection.

“Now, mademoiselle, may I touch you?” His voice was deep and magnetic, carrying an irresistible and sensual allure. His dark eyes seemed to shimmer in the room’s shadows, their intensity drawing her in. For so long, he had been a forbidden temptation, someone she could only experience through the barrier of her gloves. Now, she yearned for the moment when she could feel his warm skin against hers, the undeniable connection of human touch she had always craved.

Her heartbeat quickened, her breaths heavy as she nodded. With her arms around his neck, her body melted into his embrace as he held her gently, his strong hands cradling her head and lower back. He laid her down upon the pillow, their lips hovering close, the heat of their breath mingling in the space between them.

He rolled his body over hers, carefully positioning himself to avoid crushing her, his hands framing her face, his knees outside her hips. Rogue’s hair fanned out across the pillow, and her lips ached for his kiss. And he, too, had waited for this moment to truly touch her body, skin to skin, to hold her close, to feel her warmth. Finally, he leaned in and kissed her.

Both hands and lips ventured into uncharted territory, exploring the newfound intimacy now within reach. Kisses brushed each other’s lips, but also made their way south to the jaw, the neck, the collarbone, the chest. Wanting more of his skin against hers, Rogue pulled Gambit’s shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. She ran his hands over his muscular back, memorizing every curve and freckle upon his soft skin. Her touch sent an electric shiver across his body, and he inhaled sharply in delight. She didn’t need to use any of her powers to give him this sort of thrill. 

The straps on Rogue’s shoulders caught Gambit’s eye, lying loose on her sides and asking to be tugged down to expose what hid underneath. Without words, he glanced from her heavy-lidded gaze to the fullness of her chest, hungrily waiting for her approval. A mix of nervousness and excitement coursed through her body, but the longing to feel his skin against hers was a need that rang louder within her head. She confidently nodded with pursed lips, encouraging him to proceed. Hands moving quickly between quivering labored breaths as Gambit pulled down the straps and Rogue shimmied herself out of her swimsuit. 

In the shadows of the dark room, her chest rose and fell, her fair skin fully exposed to her lover. The thrill of intimacy excited her, causing a wave of hot coolness to wash over her skin and produce goosebumps as her nipples became taut. Gambit inhaled deeply through his mouth as he took in her beauty. Bringing a hand to her chest, he cupped her breasts with the gentlest of touch and kissed the weighted fullness. Rogue was still processing the foreign feeling of being caressed, but his soft kisses against the delicate skin of her breasts awakened something deep inside of her. Each kiss and lick against her nipples and breasts built an aching pang between her thighs, a deep heat pooling at her crux, yearning to be touched. 

As he continued to kiss her chest, neck, cheeks, and lips, Rogue also found her hands exploring his body. Palming his chest and down to his abs, she continued to explore south to the drawstring of his shorts. Sliding her fingers downwards, he didn’t have to travel far to find the erect member bulging inside his pants. It being there was no surprise, but feeling the soft to the touch but hard pulsating length in her palm made her giggle with nervous excitement. Handling it came naturally to her, rubbing her thumb slowly up and down its length, using each throaty groan that left Gambit’s lips as an audio guide on pleasure. She giggled with nervous excitement, her exposed touch to his most intimate member.

“Remy, I, I don’t have any condoms,” Rogue said dizzily, struggling to speak with a brain full of lust and a palm full of thick heat. 

“Oh, Anna,” Gambit looks at her with doting yet devilish dark eyes. Tracing his fingers down her sternum to her stomach, he moved past her belly button to rest his hand more south. “We can still have fun without one.”  

Rogue’s body shivered with pleasure as he dove into her, fingers first exploring her hot and slick crux. He teased her, tracing her folds like a labyrinth that led to the center destination of utmost pleasure. He gently entered and slipped his fingers inside of her, watching her squirm in delight. From every intentional deep pulse, her toes curled, her muscles tightened and relaxed, and her voice whined. Tempo quickened, and she couldn’t help but buck her hips against his touch, rolling her body against his. As he touched her, she continued to grip his member softly yet firmly, stroking him with devotedness. As she glided her hand up and down his thick member, her thumb brushed his tip, and she could feel the stringy-sticky wetness pooling at the top. A deep grunt rose from his chest as she touched a location with intense sensitivity. He was close, and she was determined to finish him.

Their lips met again with kisses becoming harder, wetter, messier, lost between husky breaths and groans.

All her life, Rogue longed to know what it felt like to be touched by someone. The tender touch of love and affection consumed her thoughts, as if it were the only thing that mattered. But tonight, she had opened up a Pandora's box of what it meant to be touched seductively, intimately, and with someone’s undivided attention. This touch was different, saved for private moments with the one she held closely. Sex had always intrigued her, and now this small taste made her want more. She felt like she was walking on a tightrope, savoring the newly discovered seductive touch that brought her immense pleasure. But on either side of the tightrope was a deep unknown that also interested her, calling her to let go and release into pleasure. 

The bracelet against Rogue’s wrist glowed intensely, pulsating with every buck of her hips and moan that left her lips. Her toes curled around the blankets of her bed as Gambit’s touch quickened and dove deeper into her. With his throbbing member in her hand, he inhaled sharply with every intentional stroke she delivered. Through the whirlwind of lust, Rogue’s vision met Gambit’s dark, hungry eyes. With a mischievous wink and heavy pants, he nodded for her to let herself go. 

Rogue found herself free-falling into the newfound deep end. A wave of pleasure washed over her body; her skin felt hot and cold, electric energy pulsated through her veins, yet she felt at peace. She whined his name, Remy, Remy, Remy , and he replied with her name against her lips; Anna, Anna, Anna . With him in her palm, his body jerked as he met her at his edge, and hot wetness spurted from his tip to pool onto her naked stomach. The collective heat from their bodies filled the room with a heavy musk, and their deep breaths met with syncopation. 

With the glowing bracelet on her wrist, Rogue brought her thumb to touch Gambit’s lips. With reckless abandon, she pulled him in close and kissed him. This was just the beginning of what it means to touch her lover, and she needed more. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

— Deadpool’s Log, star date: I’m a cool mom! 

I have no idea where any of the adults are in his house. I ordered pizza and watched Love Island with the girls and Kurt. Gambit went to Rogue’s room, but they can’t touch, so I don’t need to worry about them, right? RIGHT?

Chapter Text

The few minutes between takeoff and reaching cruising altitude felt like an eternity for Logan. Sitting beside Ororo at the helm, he was captivated by her confidence as she piloted the jet. In the pilot’s seat, Storm extended a toned, bare arm to adjust the controls with delicate fingers, her nails perfectly manicured. Her other hand rested steadily on the yoke, keeping the jet smooth and steady. Her eyes were fixed forward, her focus unwavering. Logan, however, watched her every move, entranced by her beauty, her presence.

As he sat beside her, a thrill stirred in his chest. The realization hit: they were finally alone, flying far away from any possible distractions. His thoughts drifted fast. He pictured her fingers brushing against his neck, her soft lips on his, her long, strong legs wrapped tightly around his…

“Logan?” Ororo’s voice broke through, laced with amusement. She smiled, shaking her head as she caught the dazed, heavy-lidded look on his face. She knew exactly where his mind had wandered. “We’ve reached cruising altitude,” she said, still smiling. “Do you have the coordinates?”

Logan gave a slow nod and unbuckled his seatbelt. Rising to his feet, he stepped behind her, close. Towering over her in the pilot’s seat, he leaned in to reach for the GPS, his arm brushing against hers. She inhaled sharply as his face hovered beside hers, his beard grazing her cheek while he focused on inputting the coordinates. That musky, earthy scent of his was becoming familiar, comforting. To most, his looming presence was predator-like. But to her, he was a protector. And she ached to be wrapped in his arms.

“‘Ro,” Logan murmured, his voice low against her ear, “Chuck didn’t put any cameras in the jet, right?”

His breath against her skin made her pulse skip, a shiver crawling up her spine. Tiny electric butterflies fluttered in her stomach. As Logan slowly pressed the last few buttons on the GPS, his other hand drifted to rest on her thigh. His touch was warm, grounding, and sparked something deeper between her legs.

“I hope not,” she replied, her voice light but charged as her eyes began to glow.

Logan was complicated, but also a man. And men could be so wonderfully simple. With a knowing glance, her fingers flew to the autopilot switch, and then her seatbelt. She fumbled at the buckle for a second before finally freeing herself and standing quickly.

Ororo’s arms quickly wrapped around Logan’s shoulders, and his strong hands found her lower back and waist. He held her close, his body radiating a heat built from barely contained hunger. Their lips met instantly, kissing hard from the weight of anticipation, but slow with divine purpose. There was no need to rush. They were alone, 35,000 feet above the world. The electricity building inside her sparked hotter, and she kissed him with charged, deliberate passion. Her plush lips molded to his, her tongue tracing the curve of his bottom lip. She felt his teeth graze her, his canine playfully nipping at her.

A husky groan rumbled from Logan’s chest. He wanted more. Though a tad shorter than her, it didn’t stop him from sliding a hand beneath her ass and lifting her with ease. She gasped, grinning breathlessly as he carried her toward the jet’s wall. Pressing her against it, he caught one wrist in his hand and placed the other gently at the back of her neck. His eyes darkened with fire as he dipped to her throat. He kissed her slowly, her head tilting back as his mouth trailed lower, finding her collarbone. When he met the collar of her shirt, he reversed course, his kisses rougher now, tongue tasting her, teeth grazing soft skin. The tension inside her bloomed, aching and heavy between her thighs. Her lips parted in a faint whine as he whispered something low against her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Suddenly, the jet lurched sideways, slamming them both to the floor. Logan hit the ground with a grunt, Ororo landing hard against his chest, hands braced over his sternum. Their eyes widened in alarm as the Blackbird jolted again, fighting for equilibrium. Ororo pushed herself upright, now straddling his lap, and glanced out the window. No storm, no enemies. She looked toward the cockpit – no flashing warnings. No alarms.

Logan inhaled through his nose, his eyes narrowed with playful suspicion.

“I think…” Ororo started, a flush creeping over her cheeks as a sheepish smile formed. “I think that was me.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Logan let out a deep, hearty laugh. “If what I’m doin’ to you is gonna cause turbulence, maybe we oughta continue this on solid ground.”

Ororo snorted and covered her face with one hand, but he caught the other and pressed a kiss to it. She giggled, bashful. He was right. There was no explanation to the Professor that the Blackbird nearly went down because of a steamy rendezvous at cruising altitude. Bringing herself back down to lie against his chest, she pressed a kiss to his lips.

Two steps forward, one step back.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The coordinates led them to a quiet town nestled at the foot of a vast mountain range. As the Blackbird touched down at the small local airport, its sleek, imposing silhouette dominated the runway. Luckily, there was just enough space to park without drawing too much attention. Waiting near the gate was a tall, older man with a thick beard and a kind smile.

“Logan!” he called out, waving as the couple descended from the jet. Logan carried both of their bags in one hand and raised the other in greeting. As they walked toward the man, Ororo slipped her hand into Logan’s.

“Storm, this is Jim,” Logan said with a nod. “He lives in town, an old friend of mine.”

“A pleasure,” Ororo said, extending her hand.

Instead of shaking it, Jim dipped into a slight bow, pressing his forehead to her knuckles. “Not every day I get to meet a goddess,” he said warmly.

Rising to his full height, he shot Logan a playful wink. A faint blush rose to Ororo’s cheeks, and she offered a soft smile. It had been a long time since someone had called her that.

“We’re heading to the family cabin for the weekend,” Logan said, glancing toward her with a look that held more than warmth; it was fond and a little possessive. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. “You’ve got a truck I can borrow?”

Jim raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. His gaze flicked between the two of them, and the smirk that formed said everything. He didn’t ask questions, but the look on his face said he was already making a few guesses.

“Yep,” Jim finally replied as he dug into the front pockets of his work pants. “I got the one you usually use. Just fill ’er up when you bring it back.” He tossed Logan a single metal key and jerked his chin toward a red pickup truck parked behind him in the lot.

As the three of them crossed the runway to the small parking area, Ororo took in her surroundings.

Growing up in Cairo and the Serengeti, she was used to flat, open landscapes– Endless plains stretched toward the horizon, broken only by the occasional distant hill. On clear days, it felt like she could see forever. When she’d moved to New York, the Catskills loomed in the distance, a quiet but constant reminder of the land’s rising shape. But this… this was different.

The Canadian Rockies towered over everything, wild and ancient. Their jagged peaks scraped the clouds, snow still clinging to the highest points like a crown. At their base, towering trees stood like sentinels, a thick coat of alpine green that crawled up the rugged cliffs before giving way to stone and ice. The mountains made the town look minuscule, insignificant. And standing in their shadow, Ororo felt smaller than she had in a long time.

Her eyes followed the lush terrain until they caught on something that halted her breath. A deep, black scar slashed across the face of the mountain– charred trees and scorched earth spread like an old wound, raw against the surrounding beauty. Her steps slowed, then stopped.

“There was a fire,” she said softly, pointing. “Did it happen recently?”

Logan and Jim turned. Logan’s eyes widened as he took it in.

Jim let out a long sigh, grief tugging at the edge of his voice. “Yeah. A few weeks ago. We were lucky we stopped it when we did.”

“Lightning?” Logan asked.

Jim hesitated, then slowly shook his head. His jaw tightened before he spoke again. “We think someone started it.”

Ororo gasped, one hand rising instinctively to her chest. She turned toward Logan, whose expression had gone taut and hard. He stepped forward and placed a steady hand on Jim’s shoulder, giving it a firm, silent squeeze.

“Thankfully, we got it contained,” Jim added, his voice rough as he cleared his throat. “I just hope whoever lit that fire is long gone.”

A heavy quiet settled over the trio. Logan’s gaze drifted back to the blackened patch on the mountainside. Relief flickered through him, knowing the fire hadn’t reached the family cabin, but unease settled beside it like an old ache. Ororo reached out and rested a hand on Jim’s arm in quiet solidarity. The silence stretched for another beat, a silent tribute to what had nearly been lost.

“Well,” Logan finally said, tossing their bags into the bed of the truck with a practiced motion. “We should get going. Thanks again for letting us use the truck.”

“Anytime,” Jim replied, clasping Logan’s hand in a firm shake. Then he turned to Ororo and gave a respectful nod. “He’s a good man, this one.”

Ororo smiled, her eyes soft as Jim gave her a playful wink and ambled back toward his car, waving them off with a warm farewell.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

After loading up the truck with supplies from the local market, Logan and Ororo began their ascent up the mountain. Warm summer air streamed through the open windows, sending Ororo’s hair fluttering in the breeze. Classic rock hummed from the radio, setting the perfect mood - it finally felt like their summer getaway had begun.

Logan kept his eyes on the road while Ororo watched the endless forest stretch along the dirt path. The drive was rough and rural, the truck rattling over dusty terrain, bouncing over rocks and stubborn roots. The distance between properties grew longer, the occasional makeshift driveway leading to a cabin tucked against the mountainside. Weathered mailboxes stood crookedly at the roadside, and faded signs marking family retreats barely clung to their posts. Few ventured this far into the wilderness, and even fewer lived here year-round.

"I used to walk this road every year," Logan said, speaking over the music. "Every summer, I’d come out here to check on the cabin. Even when life got busy or missions ran long, I still made the trip."

"That’s some dedication," Ororo said, reaching over to turn the volume down. He didn’t share much from his past, so she leaned in, eager to hear more.

"Some years, I missed the good weather window and ended up walking this road in the first snow," he added, a hint of pride in his tone.

She arched her brow. "Snow can be dangerous," she said, glancing down at her palms. Focusing, her eyes glowed faintly as tiny snowflakes began to form at her fingertips before melting away.

Logan grinned, flicking his eyes between the road and her hands. “I’m tough, but Canadian winters will test every part of you.” His gaze returned to the road. “Some winters were so cold, I could feel it in my bones. I worried it’d freeze me from the inside out.”

Ororo had endured cold winters in New York, and each year, she felt only marginally more adjusted. She was no friend of the cold. After all, she had been raised under the dry heat of the African sun. Still, the idea of a winter so brutal intrigued her. She nodded for him to go on.

"One year, I ran so late my trip didn’t fall ‘til January. I was younger then. Stupid. I thought I was tougher than a blizzard. I wasn’t. The wind came at me like it had something to prove. I was layered up, but my skin still turned blue."

Ororo hung on every word. Logan brought the truck to a stop and cut the engine. To their right, a vast meadow stretched out, quiet and serene. Tall grasses and wildflowers rippled in the wind, swaying like waves across a green ocean.

“I ended up here,” Logan said, nodding toward the clearing. “I felt like the storm had beaten me. I just lay down and waited for the snow to swallow me.”

“Oh, Logan,” Ororo whispered. She knew his regeneration would keep him from dying, but the image of him surrendering to the cold, overwhelmed and frozen, gripped her chest. She reached over and rested a hand gently on his knee.

“I’ve always found snowfall comforting,” he continued. “Like a thick blanket pressing down, muffling everything. So I lay there. Closed my eyes. Waited for the cold to finish what it started.”

A tear welled in Ororo’s eye. Sudden, surprising, but impossible to stop. She wiped it away silently, her breath caught in her throat.

“Then I felt something tug on my boot. I opened my eyes, and there was Jim. He’d been out plowing the road. Saw me in the snow. Took me in, let me warm up. When the storm finally cleared, I went on my way.” Logan exhaled slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “He was younger then. We’ve been friends ever since.”

Relief shimmered in Ororo’s eyes. With the power to command the weather, she’d never truly considered what it meant to endure it– to be at the mercy of something she could, most days, control. She imagined Logan on that road, pushing forward through a natural storm, one untouched by her will. Even as the goddess of the elements, she wasn’t the master of every sky. Weather lived beyond her, a force as untamable as life itself.

She wiped another tear from her cheek and slid closer across the truck’s bench seat. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You wrestled with a storm I didn’t bring, and still, it let you live.” She kissed him again, this time on the lips. “You’re as stubborn as they come, Wolverine.”

He chuckled, his hands finding her hips and pulling her onto his lap. He settled her easily, her knees straddling him as her body molded to his. Their lips met again, deeper this time. His fingers gripped her where muscle met a curve, digging in with hungry affection. Her response, a giggle tangled with a moan, lingered warm against his mouth.

“Stubborn, headstrong, tenacious…” Logan’s voice was a husky rumble between kisses. “I never turn down a challenge.”

“I know,” Ororo murmured, threading her fingers into his thick hair. “You’re still chasing me.”

He swore he could feel sparks dancing from her fingertips, awakening fire beneath her touch. Tossing his head back against the seat, he couldn’t hold back any longer. With her tight body in his hands, he rolled his hips against hers, the heat of desire burning through his veins with undeniable force. There was no way in hell he was going to make it to the cabin with the length building in his pants.

As he leaned in again, Ororo met his hooded gaze and parted lips, heavy with hunger, thick with longing. That same fire bloomed within her, the humid air clinging sticky to her skin. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

Their lips collided. Hands flew. Ororo reached for the hem of her shirt, trying to pull it over her head, while Logan fumbled with his belt buckle. Arms tangled. Moans echoed in the cramped cab of the old truck. Logan ground his hips up against her, dizzy and drunk on lust. The friction of her heat pressed against his thick member, and he let out a ragged groan as his body bucked with need.

Then suddenly, Ororo yelped.

“You alright?” Logan rasped, breathless.

“I hit my head,” she muttered, tugging her shirt back down and rubbing the top of her skull with a wince. “What are we doing, Logan? We can’t have sex in here. We’re not teenagers!”

He cradled her head with one calloused palm, pressing a soft, sympathetic kiss to her cheek. “Oh, darlin’... where else do you suggest? ‘Cause I don’t think I can wait much longer.” His voice was low, pleading, his eyes dark with unspoken want. She had never seen the Wolverine look so vulnerable– so willing to beg. She might be the only one who ever had.

And truthfully, he was right. Ever since the start of their summer fling, something always got in the way. The teens. Wade. Timing. They had crossed the continent just to be alone, and she wanted him. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, his body over hers. She needed him, deeply and intimately.

Raising a hand toward the serene prairie, Ororo summoned a controlled whirlwind. It spun through the tall grass in a graceful circle, carving a perfect path before drifting down the slope toward the open field, leaving a soft trail in its wake before vanishing. She smiled, proud of her handiwork, and tilted her head toward the meadow.

“Oh, you’re so good,” Logan murmured, shaking his head with amusement. He kissed her quickly, then popped open the door. Ororo slid off his lap and followed, stepping out into the warm afternoon sun.

She started toward the trail she'd made, but paused when she realized Logan had lagged behind. He was rummaging through the bed of the truck. With a flick of her wrist, a gust of wind tousled him, making him stumble with a sputter.

Laughing, she called, “Find what you’re looking for?”

That’s when she saw it: an old wool blanket tucked under his arm.

“Race you there?” she teased, a wicked smirk tugging at her lips, heart fluttering with anticipation.

“You’re on, Windrider,” he growled, and with a lunge, took off down the trail.

They grew up on opposite sides of the world, but their teenage years were strikingly similar. Whether it was running through the Serengeti plains or the Canadian mountains, coming into their mutant powers, on top of big emotions and charged hormones, made everything that much harder. There was no room to stumble, no time to just be kids. They had to grow up fast. When they joined the school as teachers, mentors, and X-Men, the space for joy, for play, for simple freedom quietly disappeared. But at this moment, running through the tall grass of the prairie, it felt like they’d been given a second chance. This summer fling was a sort of redemption for both of them.

Ororo beat Logan to the center of the prairie, though she knew he let her win. He tossed the rolled-up blanket to the ground, letting it fan out over the flattened dry grass. Their lips immediately met as they stripped away outer layers, letting clothes and shoes fall to the earth. The kisses were playful and quick, shirts pulled overhead, pants unbuttoned in between breaths, hearts racing with excitement. Falling into his strong arms, Ororo let Logan lower her gently onto her back. He paused for a moment, drinking her in. Her light eyes sparkled as she watched his gaze trace every inch of her glowing, dark skin under the summer sun. She truly was a goddess, and he couldn’t believe he was worthy to hold her like this. 

With her arms wrapped around his neck, Ororo rolled her shoulders back and pushed out her breasts. Budding electricity sparked between her thighs, and she squirmed as she stretched out her legs and toes. Her eyelids fluttered, waiting, teeming with anticipation. Logan’s muscular body loomed over her, heavy and steady on all fours. His chest rose and fell with each breath, thick with hunger. Her eyes drifted to his undershorts, and her heart skipped. The size of what he was packing was exactly what she expected, and then some. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she bit her bottom lip. With a slow nod, she urged him to take the lead.

Logan’s eyes never left hers as he slid down the length of her body, slow and deliberate. With a hook of his finger, he slipped her panties down, taking them with him. He tossed them aside without a glance, his focus entirely on her. He pressed a soft kiss to her ankle, then another, as he gently parted her legs and began his ascent. Each kiss of his was deliberate and with purpose. When his mouth found the tender skin of her inner thigh, she squirmed beneath him, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. The tension between them crackled hot and electric. The air thickened around them, and the world outside the grass walls fell silent. All that existed was this moment. This need. He and her.

Lifting her leg over his shoulder, the flat of his tongue finally met her crux. Her hips writhed beneath his deliberate sweeps, and a featherlight moan slipped from her lips. He dove in deeper, taking his time tasting her, savoring her sweetness as his fingers dug into her thick curves. Her body quivered at his touch, both of them holding their breath in the stillness of the moment. Logan was lost in her, engulfed in her wet heat, taking his sweet time. There were no distractions for miles, nothing but her. All of his attention belonged to her.

Ororo's legs trembled as she dragged her fingers through his thick hair, tightening around his signature tufts. She could feel herself inching closer to the edge and gave him a teasing tug. He came up for air, chin soaked, his heavy-lidded eyes locking with hers. He smiled, and she swore she caught a flash of his canines. Without a word, her eyes told him everything: she wanted more. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, he crawled up over her, her legs still wrapped tight around his torso. But before he could settle in, she quickly shoved at his shoulder and flipped him onto his back. Logan was stunned. Outside of her weather-wielding abilities, how could he forget that she was also a skilled fighter? 

She’d ended up in the same spot as that morning, but this time, it wasn’t by accident. Grinding her hips against his, she deliberately teased him, rocking slowly against the hard length growing beneath her. Logan, drunk with lust, knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He shoved his undershorts down and let out a throaty groan as he finally freed himself from their constraint. They had all the time in the world, but they’d already waited too long for this. 

She inhaled sharply, adjusting her hips before sliding over him. He was thick, and he filled her deep. Logan’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as she began to move, rolling her hips forward and back, side to side in a rhythm that stole his breath. His hands gripped the plush curve where her thighs met her hips, squeezing tightly. With mouths agape and breaths in sync, she rode him, bucking her hips to guide him exactly where she wanted; deep, slow, and devastatingly precise.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Logan’s skin was hot and slick from the sex and the heavy summer sun, but the sudden tickle of cold against his chest stirred him from his doze. He wasn’t sure when he’d started to drift, only that Ororo had completely knocked him on his ass. She was curled up in his arms, her head resting on his chest, breath soft and even as she dozed, peaceful, spent, perfect. Logan blinked against the brightness, letting his vision adjust. That’s when he noticed it– one lone cloud drifting above them in the otherwise clear blue sky. And from it, snowflakes. Tiny, delicate flurries danced their way down, caught in the warm breeze, melting the moment they touched his skin.

“‘Ro, is this you?” he asked, his voice low and rough. He ran his thumb gently along her arm, and she stirred at his touch.

“Mmmhmm,” Ororo murmured. With sleepy eyes, she shifted her weight, propping herself up slightly against his chest. “Do you like it?” she continued as her heavy blinks met his gaze. Leaning in, she pressed her lips softly to his. The unfamiliar flutter behind his adamantium ribs made Logan inhale sharply. As their lips parted, he looked at the woman lying on his chest with overwhelming adoration– he was completely infatuated with her. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, and more snowflakes began to fall.

“I love it,” Logan grinned, letting the flurries melt against his cheeks.

They lay there for a while, dozing off again, wrapped in each other’s arms. The birdsong and gentle wind rustling through the trees played like a natural lullaby, the sun’s rays blanketing them in warmth. With Ororo’s head still nestled on his chest, a sudden growl from Logan’s stomach made her stir.

“You’re hungry,” she whispered. Logan grunted in agreement. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let the moment end, but the pang in his stomach was growing.

“I suppose I am,” he said, lifting his head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “All I had to eat today was you.”

“Oh, Logan, stop that,” Ororo giggled, pushing herself into a seated position. Logan smiled, giving her a cheeky wink. Still in her underwear, her skin glistened from the sun. She reached for her shirt and began dressing. “Even though I do wish we could lie here forever.” 

“We still have a ways to go up the mountain,” he replied, propping himself up on his elbows. “But we’ve got tonight.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Ororo wasn’t sure what to expect as the truck rolled up to the Howlett family cabin. She knew Logan was old, older than her, and even older than his friend Jim. But when he told her the cabin had been built in the 1800s, she was genuinely surprised to see it still standing.

Tucked into a grove of trees and surrounded by dense underbrush, the small wooden cabin stood strong, weathered but proud. It had endured decades of snow, rain, and summer heat. The original windows shimmered softly in the afternoon light, and the stone chimney rose tall and sturdy against the backdrop of the forest. They were miles from modern civilization, but the cabin felt quiet, grounded, and homely in the best way.

“She’s a beaut’, isn’t she?” Logan beamed as he dropped their bags and an ice chest at the front door. Digging into his pocket, he fumbled with a key before unlocking it. He kissed her on the cheek and pushed the door open.

The inside was simple, but lived in. The single-floor cabin opened into one large room, with only a partial wall dividing the living space from the kitchen. Near the entry sat a well-worn leather couch and a tall bookshelf, close to a stone fireplace blackened with years of use. The scent of wood smoke still lingered faintly in the air. In the kitchen, bare shelves bookended a stately iron stove on one side, with a farmhouse sink on the other. Between them stood a small wooden table with seating for two. 

As Ororo stepped inside, she moved toward the partial wall and peered around it. A large bed rested in the corner, next to a weathered dresser and a single nightstand, each piece heavy and handmade. She turned to Logan, already raising an eyebrow. He knew exactly what she was about to ask.

“There’s an outhouse out back,” he said, already grinning. “With a wooden soaking tub.”

“How rustic,” she replied, smiling despite herself. Throughout her lifetime, she had lived in conditions less habitual, but she had to admit she became quite comfortable living at the mansion. 

“I’ll have to chop wood to get the stove going for dinner. Feel free to settle in.” Logan said as he placed their bags upon the bed. Giving her arm a friendly squeeze, she nodded in agreement.

After rummaging through every kitchen drawer, she finally found a wooden cutting board and a pair of old, but still impressively sharp, knives. She smirked. Of course, the man with retractable claws would keep his kitchen blades razor-sharp. She began prepping the vegetables they’d picked up from the local market, mostly hearty root vegetables and leafy greens, all grown nearby. As she chopped, the steady rhythm of her knife hitting the board filled the quiet cabin, syncing with the distant, deliberate thud of Logan’s axe outside. She tossed everything into a large pot, adding a few dried spices she’d found tucked into jars on the open shelves. 

Just then, he returned with his arms full of chopped wood. She looked up at him, and for a moment, she was charmed by the simplicity of it all— the quiet, domestic rhythm of playing house with Logan. 

“I brought us something to share,” Ororo said, ducking behind the partial wall to rummage through her bag. Logan raised an eyebrow, curious, as he stirred the pot of simmering stew on the stove. The air was scented with the scent of herbs and roasted vegetables; it was homey and comforting. Ororo reappeared with her hands behind her back, a sly smile tugging at her lips. With an easy grace, she slunk across the room, stepping in close until she was nearly chest-to-chest with him. With a tilt of her head and a glint of amusement in her light eyes, she revealed the bottle of wine. Logan blinked, caught off guard. He took the bottle from her hands and turned it over to read the label.

“This is the same wine I got you,” he said, surprised. “The cabernet sauvignon.”

“Yes,” she replied softly, her smile deepening. “From our first date.”

Warmth crept up Logan’s cheeks, and his attempt to hide a grin didn’t stand a chance. “If that was our first date,” he said, “then what do you call tonight?” With a subtle SNIKT , a single claw extended, and he dug the blade into the cork, twisting it free with practiced ease.

Ororo’s lashes fluttered as her eyes began to glow. She rested her hands on his chest and leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “Our first night alone.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The summer evening settled around them, the sky deepening into a rich, endless blue. In the quiet warmth of the cabin, they stood side by side at the kitchen sink, their hands brushing now and then as they washed the last of the dishes. The final sips of the wine were savored slowly between soft smiles and shared glances. 

It had been a full day without interruptions, and for the first time in a long time, they permitted themselves to forget the world outside. Yet, only once did Logan wonder, fleetingly, what kind of trouble the kids might be stirring up. But with Ororo standing beside him, glowing in the golden spill of lantern light, it didn’t matter.

“So, what are our plans for the rest of the evening?” Ororo asked as she rinsed off a bowl and handed it to Logan.

He shot her a sideways glance, a slow, teasing smile curling at the corner of his mouth. It had only been a few hours since they’d been intimate, but he was already aching for more. “Thought I’d let the goddess decide my fate.”

A shiver crept up Ororo’s spine, and she rolled her shoulders back to mask the reaction. “Careful,” she said, handing him the last spoon. “That kind of power might go to my head.” Her smirk was playful, eyes knowing.

“That’s the idea,” he murmured, eyes dropping to the utensil as he slowly rubbed it dry, voice low and rough.

“Well, I was thinking…” Ororo reached for the towel in his hand, deliberately drying her fingers slowly. The air thickened as she stepped closer, her body brushing against his. “Maybe we slip out of these clothes.”

“I like where this is going,” Logan said, voice deepening. “With my body against yours?” He raised a finger to her chin and tilted her face just enough to press his lips to her neck. His tongue traced the curve of her throat, tasting the salt of her skin. 

“Only if you behave,” Ororo cooed. She slid her hands across his chest, down the line of buttons to his waist, her fingers resting lightly on his belt.

“Darlin’,” Logan breathed, voice catching as she unfastened the buckle. “You don’t want me to behave.”

Her eyes narrowed, glowing a cool, electric blue. “You’re probably right,” she whispered, laughing softly as her hand slipped inside his jeans.

As her fingers wrapped around his growing length, Logan inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering shut. His body trembled under her touch, a low groan escaping from deep in his chest. She moved slowly, deliberately, savoring every reaction she drew from him. As her thumb brushed against his tip, she could feel it pooling with stickiness. 

His body jerked from her touch, and he lowered his forehead to her shoulder, groaning softly against her skin. Every brush of her hand sent heat flooding through him, setting his nerves alight.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, voice rough and reverent. Her deliberate movement was hypnotising, and he was under her spell. 

Ororo smiled against his temple, a soft giggle slipping from her lips as they grazed his hairline. “Good,” she whispered. 

She kissed his cheek, then lower, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his jaw. Cradling the back of his neck with her other hand, her fingers weaving into his thick hair. Logan shuddered under her touch, grounding his hands on her waist, then lower, gripping her hips as though anchoring himself. He inhaled sharply through his nose, trying to steady himself. Her familiar scent flooded him– earth, ozone, warmth. But underneath it… Something was off. Harsh. Wrong.

“Do you smell that?” Logan grunted, voice low and suddenly tense.

“Mhmm, what?” Ororo hummed softly. “The smell of two bodies in heat?” Her eyes still closed, she pressed another slow and teasing kiss to his lips. 

But to her surprise, Logan pulled himself away. Opening her eyes to see him, something beyond him caught her attention. Bright flickers of orange and red light up the horizon. Her breath caught.

“Oh, Logan… oh no.” Her voice dropped into alarm. “It’s a wildfire!”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The couple sprang into action, quickly grabbing their unpacked bags and rushing to the truck. They tossed their belongings into the cab without hesitation, instinct taking over as their focus shifted into that of seasoned X-Men. The once-clear evening sky had darkened, now choked with thick plumes of smoke that rolled in from the distance. The acrid scent of burning wood filled the air, stinging their noses and coating the back of their throats. Their pulses raced, but their minds were sharp. Without needing to say much, they moved in sync, quickly forming a plan.

“‘Ro, I need you to find the source of the fire and put it out.” Logan’s hands clenched into fists, aching to unsheathe his claws. His eyes narrowed, voice stern and steady. “I’ll follow with the truck, see if I can pick up a scent.”

Ororo rolled her shoulders back and gave a quick nod. “If I see the perpetrator, I’ll send a signal.”

“How will I know?” he asked, already climbing into the truck and turning the key. They were about to face hundreds of thousands of acres of forest that were on fire– now he had to watch the sky, too?

“Oh, hun,” a slow smile curling at her lips. Her eyes glowed bright as she winked. “You’ll know.” She leaned through the open window and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Then she turned, her expression shifting. The legendary Storm took a few light strides down the gravel path before breaking into a run. At full speed, she pushed off the ground and launched herself into the smoky night sky, arms outstretched. Logan watched her disappear into the haze, then shifted the truck into drive and tore off down the mountain road.

The wildfire smoke stung Ororo’s eyes, but it didn’t stop her. She climbed higher into the sky, wings of wind carrying her above the thickest of the smoke. Finally, she reached a height where she could see more clearly, and what she saw made her chest tighten.

Below her, fire roared down the mountainside, devouring ancient trees that had stood for centuries. Towering pines cracked and collapsed into the blaze, sending up sparks like dying stars. Deer bounded through the brush, rabbits darted across the forest floor, and birds scattered from the canopy, all running for their lives.

Ororo’s breath caught in her throat. A single tear traced down her cheek. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, unsure if the tear came from the sting of the smoke or the ache in her heart at watching such beauty reduced to ash.

Suspended in the sky, she took a slow breath and read the air. It was warm and dry, too dry, and a southern wind was starting to build, sharp and fast. The gusts fanned the fire’s edge, pushing it faster, harder, closer to the valley below. Her eyes narrowed. There was only one way in and out of the town tucked at the base of the hill. If the fire reached it, there’d be no escape. She didn’t have time to hesitate. She had to protect them. Now.

Below, Logan’s truck tore up the mountain road, tires skidding over loose gravel, rocks, and thick roots. Dust and wildfire smoke swirled around him in a choking haze, but he kept the driver’s side window down, his nose angled toward the wind.

Tracking someone he’d never smelled before was damn near impossible, but he had to try. He pushed past the overpowering scent of burning wood, dry earth, and scorched air, forcing himself to separate animal trails from something human. Every breath was thick, acrid, but he didn’t ease up. He pressed harder on the gas and kept climbing toward the fire, toward whatever the hell started this.

Energy brewed within Ororo, building in steady pulses– each one stronger, more insistent, as if Mother Earth was answering the call. She closed her eyes and let the rhythm guide her, channeling the storm through her body. A sharp, icy wind howled through the mountain range, breaking through the dry, suffocating air. Above, heavy nimbostratus clouds began to gather, forming fast and thick, casting the sky into deep darkness. She could feel the weight in them, moisture swelling like a levee ready to burst. When the clouds reached their peak, brimming and trembling, she knew it was time.

With a flick of her wrist, the sky opened. A torrential downpour erupted, slamming into the blaze below. The fire hissed and spat as steam rose in thick columns, swallowed by the darkness and rain. Her arms moved with intention, directing the storm, commanding the clouds to follow the fire’s path. The flames sputtered and vanished one by one, consumed by the downpour.

Hovering in the air, her eyes scanned the soaked mountainside. Then she saw it, two headlights cutting through the rain and smoke. It was Logan. She smiled as she saw his truck climb up the mountain. The wildfire was extinguished, but they had yet to find the suspect. As she began her descent back to earth, a flicker in the distance caught her eye. 

A grove of trees nearby had erupted into flames, and the forest brush beneath it was igniting fast. Ororo propelled herself and the rain toward the new hotspot, her eyes scanning the ground for any sign of what, or who, had caused it. Then she saw him. Half-concealed in the shadows, a figure with a torch in hand sprinted down the mountainside. Fury surged through her veins. How could someone do this?

Without hesitation, she raised a clenched fist to the sky. Energy surged through her as she summoned a bolt of lightning and brought it crashing down. The strike exploded just feet from the fleeing suspect, knocking them to their knees in the dirt. The thunder that followed was deafening, echoing her fury through the mountains like a war cry.

From the road below, a bright streak of lightning cracked through the sky, striking just ahead of Logan’s truck. He slowed, grinning despite the chaos. “Damn, ‘Ro,” he muttered, chuckling under his breath. “You really know how to send a guy a sign.” 

The cold rain poured steadily, soaking the forest into a wet, muddy mess. Steam rose from smoldering branches as the last remnants of the fire were extinguished. Logan cut the engine and stepped out of the truck, eyes drawn upward. There she was, his girl, floating high above, her presence commanding. There was no time for pleasantries– her glowing eyes were sharp with purpose, one arm outstretched, pointing him toward the suspect. He swallowed hard, a beat of awe hitting him square in the chest. Even after everything, her sheer power still left him speechless.

Logan clenched his jaw, then pushed forward, boots sinking into the soaked earth as he made his way through the charred trees and scorched underbrush. In the middle of the blackened grove sat a lone figure, arms wrapped around his knees, shoulders hunched. Logan inhaled sharply, catching a scent. It was a human, not a mutant, and next to him was an extinguished torch, heavily doused in the odor of gasoline. 

“Why did you do this?” Logan growled, his chest rising and falling with fury. “Why’d you destroy this beautiful place?” He paced the perimeter of the charred grove, eyes locked on the suspect like a predator circling its prey. The scent of fear clung to the air, and a slow, devilish smile tugged at Logan’s lips. It had been a long time since he’d had room to play. Keeping to the shadows, he let his claws slide free with a sharp SNIKT . The sound sliced through the silence. The suspect yelped, scrambling in the mud as they tried to rise to their feet.

Just then, a sharp gust of wind tore through the trees, knocking the man back to his knees. Logan looked skyward and gave the windrider a small nod of thanks. The suspect panicked, falling to all fours, desperately searching for anything to defend himself. His hand found a thick branch, and he hurled it toward Logan. With a single swipe, Logan shredded it into splinters. The man tried again with a large rock– another slash, and it was reduced to pebbles.

Logan stepped forward slowly, deliberately. Shoulders high, claws low, dripping with rain that could’ve passed for blood in the dark. Each breath came with a growl, his snarl deepening as he closed in. The man fell to his side, scrambling backward in the mud. His hand flew to his belt and drew a buck knife. In a last-ditch effort, he lunged and drove it into Logan’s thigh. 

Logan froze.

The suspect let out a nervous, shaky chuckle. The pain registered, but Logan barely blinked. With a grunt, he reached down, yanked the knife free, and tossed it far into the woods, well out of reach.

“So,” he growled, voice low and dangerous, “you think you’re a tough guy?” Rage crackled through him as he stepped forward again. “I’d like to see you run now, bub.”

With a flash of claws, he slashed across the man’s calf. The suspect howled in pain, curling into himself. Logan grabbed him by the opposite ankle and began to drag him roughly over sharp rocks and broken branches, straight toward the truck parked at the edge of the woods. The man screamed the entire way, but Logan didn’t care. This man hadn’t just endangered lives, he’d violated something sacred. The forest. The land. Logan’s home. Ororo. The town below.

Reaching the truck, Logan lifted him by the ankle like a ragdoll and tossed him into the bed with a hollow thump. The wound to the calf was deep enough to keep him from escaping, but the fear was more than enough to keep him still. Logan stalked around to the driver’s side, breath still uneven, adrenaline buzzing in his veins. He reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling for the truck keys. Then came a familiar wind.

A soft, cooling gust swirled through the clearing, brushing the sweat from his brow and slowing his racing pulse. He looked up. Ororo was descending from the sky, her arms relaxed at her sides, her expression unreadable. Her eyes met his, focused yet ready. 

“Get in, hun.” He tilted his head for her to enter the truck’s cab. “We gotta take this motherfucker to jail.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The entire community was gathered outside as Logan and Ororo drove into town. Some clutched their bags overflowing with keepsakes and essentials, while others stood with nothing but the clothes on their backs. They were a tight-knit community, hugging, consoling one another, eyes drifting toward the fresh burn scar on the mountainside with a mix of relief and awe. At the center of it all was Jim, moving from person to person, checking in, making sure everyone was safe and accounted for. 

Logan’s pickup rolled to a stop, and as soon as Jim saw it, his eyes widened. He rushed over without hesitation. 

“I don’t know what you two did, but you saved us.” Jim’s voice was harsh from the combination of wildfire smoke and yelling to alert the townsfolk. He took a moment to breathe, leaning over and placing both hands upon his knees. 

As Logan exited the car, Jim stepped forward, clasping Logan’s shoulder with both hands, firm and grateful. “We were dead in the water. That fire was comin’ straight for us. Then the rain hit, and just like that…” He pointed up at the night sky. “Gone. Thank you, Storm.”

“You’re very welcome,” Ororo replied with a soft smile.

“And not only that,” Logan added, striking his fist against the side of the truck bed. The metal gave a loud thunk, followed by a startled yelp from inside. “We found the asshole who did it.”

Jim’s eyes went wide as he rushed to peer over the edge. His jaw dropped as he looked from the perp to Ororo, then to Logan. “I’ll grab the sheriff! Make sure he doesn’t get away!”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Logan said with a dry laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s not going anywhere. But you might also want to bring back a first aid kit.”

Ororo let out a laugh, playfully bumping her shoulder gently into his. “We make a good team, don’t we?” 

Logan turned toward her, a glint of affection in his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, grinning and wrapping his arm around her. “We really do.” 

Tucking herself into his chest, their lips met in an instant. Excitement flickered in Ororo’s chest as she kissed him. Has she really fallen for Wolverine? Logan wrapped his arms around her, holding her close like he’d never let go. A smile tugged at his lips mid-kiss, and Ororo giggled as she kissed the curve of his grin, brushing her lips against his teeth. Whatever this was, it felt natural and real. Like they’d been doing this forever. 

“Need a room?” An unfamiliar voice cut through their moment.

“Excuse me?” Logan growled instinctively, then caught himself, pulling back his tone as he turned. A short, older woman stood in front of them, hands flailing as she realized what she’d interrupted. Logan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Oh, so sorry!” she stammered, clearly flustered. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Just… Do you two want to stay at the inn? It’s the least we can do. You saved us, after all!”

“That would be lovely, thank you!” Ororo replied without missing a beat. The Howlett family cabin had charm, but it was a little too rustic for her tastes. She stepped back from Logan’s arms, lacing her fingers through his and giving a playful tug. “Come on,” she said with a knowing smile. The night was still young.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Warm steam curled around the couple as they stood beneath the hot water, skin now clean of ash, sweat, and the lingering whisper of wildfire smoke. Logan’s chest pressed firmly against hers, his hands gripping the fullness of her hips while her nails dragged across his back. Their kisses were deep and desperate, lips crashing, tongues tracing every curve and edge. Fingers explored without hesitation, gliding over freckles, old scars, and soft places only they knew now.

With a firm grip, he turned her around, her back meeting his chest. His breath was hot against her ear as he nestled into her neck, trailing kisses along her skin. As beads of water trailed down their naked skin, so did their touches, drifting lower, coaxing shudders of pleasure from each other. She was slick, open to him; he was fully hard, the water doing little to cool the fire building between them. 

“It’s a night of firsts,” he growled softly. “Our first night alone, first mission together... First shower.”

“Yes,” she breathed, a cold shiver ran down her spine despite the hot ache enveloping her body. “But it’s the second time today I’ve been naked in your arms.” 

Logan chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her back as his hands wrapped around her waist. He kissed her on the wet skin behind her ear, and in response, she arched her body into his. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Chapter Text

Ororo held Logan’s hand tightly, their fingers interlaced as she followed him down the steps of the Blackbird. Both of them were buzzing with quiet excitement, hearts still swooning from the weekend they’d just shared. Neither could hide the smiles tugging at their lips. 

After saving the town from a wildfire and capturing the suspect, they’d spent the rest of their getaway holed up in a quiet room at the inn, just to keep out of trouble, of course. They lost themselves in each other between the sheets, tracing freckles and scars, breathing in sync through whispered moans and soft snores. They ordered room service, took turns falling asleep on each other’s chests, and played with each other’s hair. It was simple. It was natural. And it was exactly what they both needed.

“What are we going to tell the students?” Ororo asked as they walked side by side toward the mansion, bags in tow. Back in Westchester County, it was late afternoon and the heatwave had finally broken, leaving behind a soft, comfortable summer warmth. She welcomed the feel of it on her skin.

“We don’t need to tell them anything,” Logan replied, raising a brow with a crooked smirk. “They’ll figure it out.”

His heart fluttered when Ororo snorted at his response, quickly covering her laugh with her hand. With a grin, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She kept giggling, and he kept kissing her, one after another, until she was laughing into his shoulder. For all their power, all the battles they'd fought, somehow... they felt completely weightless in each other’s arms.

Two lovebirds, lost in their infatuation, barely noticed the sound of a car approaching on the gravel driveway. It wasn’t until the sharp slam of a car door and a familiar voice cut through the air that reality caught up with them.

“Logan? Ro? Is that you?”

Both of their hearts sank. Slowly, they turned and were greeted by none other than their colleagues and friends: Jean Grey and Scott Summers. The students wouldn’t need much of an explanation about their budding relationship, but these two definitely would.

“You’re back?” Logan choked out, quickly loosening his hold around Ororo’s waist.

“We just got back today!” Jean called, beaming with excitement. “Venice was amazing!” With a flick of her fingers, several sleek suitcases lifted from the trunk of the taxi and floated behind her like obedient pets. Scott followed close behind, tossing a backpack over one shoulder and rolling his shoulders with quiet pride.

“I thought you guys went to Paris? Or Rome?” Ororo asked, pulling Jean in for a hug, her voice laced with mild confusion.

“We did,” Scott said, unable to hide his boastful grin. “Six cities. Three countries. Zero regrets.” He adjusted his red-tinted sunglasses, raising an eyebrow with smug pride. “Where’d you guys go?”

“North,” Logan grunted, arms folding tightly across his chest. His gaze flicked over Scott from head to toe. ‘Great, another overconfident adult child back in the mix.’ Logan thought to himself.

“Huh.” Scott mirrored the posture, clearly picking up the vibe. “So... are you guys, like, together or something?”

Logan swallowed hard, his jaw tightening to keep his expression neutral. Beside him, he could see Ororo’s eyes go wide at being put on the spot. Jean, empathic even without her powers, didn’t need to read minds to sense the discomfort. She shot Scott a look, then nudged him hard with her elbow. Scott let out a grunt.

“C’mon, everyone! Let’s all go inside!” Jean said quickly, her tone bright as she ushered everyone toward the front door. “We have so much to catch up on, and I’m sure we all want to drop off our things!”

With another flick of her fingers, Ororo and Logan’s bags floated into the air, joining the parade of suitcases. Logan exhaled slowly, already feeling the weight of his peaceful weekend slipping away. But then Ororo caught his eye and gave him a quiet, knowing wink. It was all the reassurance he needed.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Jean’s blood-curdling scream echoed through the mansion halls, stopping Logan mid-step. He’d been unpacking from the weekend when the sound pierced the air, his instincts kicking in as he rushed to the door of his suite. But then, he heard the words.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Jean shrieked.

Logan froze… then grinned. He didn’t rush after that. Instead, he strolled casually down the hall, a deep chuckle and smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

When he arrived, the scene didn’t disappoint: clothes were flying, soda cans clattered against the floor, and a pink, child-sized backpack arced through the air before hitting the opposite wall. Then came the grand finale– Deadpool’s red-suited body being launched into the hallway from the sheer force of Jean’s telekinesis powers, smacking hard against the far wall and sliding down with a dazed, “ Oof .”

“Yeesh!” Wade brought himself to his seat and scratched his head. “No, thank you for keeping your bed warm while y’all were away?” 

Scott charged out of their apartment suite and loomed over Wade’s body. Grabbing him by the collar, he brought him in so close his glasses were a few inches from Wade’s face. “All the rooms in this house are to stay in, and you had to pick ours? It’s a fucking mess in here!” 

“Hey now,” Wade replied, throwing his hands up to protest. “Logan said it was okay!”

Scott whipped his head around so fast, everyone thought his glasses might fly right off his face. His jaw clenched, and the glare he shot Logan could’ve cut steel. Heat practically radiated from behind his ruby lenses. Logan’s eyes went wide, face flushing with a mix of guilt and exasperation.

“I told you to stay out of everyone’s way and don’t fuck up their room,” Logan growled, stepping in closer and looming over the merc. “And you did both, Wade.” He twisted his fists but hesitated on releasing his claws.

Deadpool playfully shuddered and was unfazed. “Ooooh, dad voice. Am I in trouble…”

“Wait…” Jean said, her voice trembling as she held something up. “Is this a bloodstain on my nice knit blanket?”

“No, my dear Watson!” Deadpool held his chin in the corner of his index finger and thumb and continued in a poor British accent. “Dried blood is brown. That is red, so it is either strawberry jam or cherry cola.”

Jean swore loudly, but the words didn’t just linger– they carried weight. The energy behind her foul language rippled through the hallway like a shockwave, bouncing off the walls with a fury that shook the air. Logan and Scott both lost their footing, landing hard on the tiled floor beside Wade in a graceless heap.

Without missing a beat, the two launched themselves at the merc, pouncing on him like wild dogs. It was messy, testosterone-charged chaos in the middle of the mansion hallway. Wade thrashed beneath them, limbs flailing as he tried to escape their grip. Fists flew, feet kicked, and insults were shouted in all directions. There wasn’t a whole lot of thinking going on, but for once, Logan and Scott both agreed on something– no one disrespects Jean. 

Traveling as a pack down the long hallways of the mansion, the teens were stunned to see their teachers caught in a full-blown brawl. They quickened their pace and surrounded the three men. The moment they realized Deadpool was in the middle of it, the students started to boo and hiss like spectators on the edge of a fight. The noise gave Wade exactly the fuel he needed.

Scrambling to his feet, he swept Scott’s legs out from under him and punched him square in the face, sending him flat on his back with a yelp. Logan lunged forward, but Wade moved fast, grabbing a small knife from his hip and driving it into Logan’s shoulder. Logan roared in frustration but didn’t stop, pushing through the pain as he shoved Wade hard against the wall.

Suddenly, a powerful gust of wind slammed through the hallway, knocking everyone back off their feet.

“What is going on!” Ororo shouted, floating in the air with arms wide, eyes glowing, and her body crackling with energy. Logan swallowed, embarrassed to be in the path of his Windrider. 

“It’s Wade!” Scott stammered, jabbing a finger in his direction. “He needs to get the hell outta here!”

“Nooo, let him stay!” Jubilee chimed in, crawling across the floor to plop down beside Deadpool. “He’s the best!”

The rest of the teens quickly joined in, voicing their agreement and gathering around Wade like he was some kind of celebrity. Logan looked like pure disgust and confusion. ‘What the hell happened while I was gone?’ He thought to himself. As he pulled the knife out of his shoulder and tossed it to the floor, he turned to Laura, hoping, praying , she was just as bewildered. But she met his stare with a cocky shrug and a smug little pout.

“He took us swimming and ordered us pizza,” she said, narrowing her eyes at her father. “He also taught us how to shoot a gun.”

The collective gasp from the adults was deafening. 

“We were very safe!” Wade interjected, pointing wildly toward the group of adults. “We learned about gun safety first, and then we…”

“Jesus Christ,” Logan groaned, cutting him off as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And where was Professor Xavier?” Ororo asked with apprehension as she crossed her arms across her chest. “And Hank?” she added.

“Oh, uh…” Wade stammered, suddenly very interested in the floor tiles. “We never saw them? I’m pretty sure Xavier knows I’m here…?” 

“Yes, I do,” came a voice from behind. Professor Charles Xavier wheeled himself into the group, gaze cool and composed. The weight of his presence settled over the room like a command. Instinctively, everyone stood up and straightened– shoulders back, chins up, as if they were standing inspection. 

“And I’d prefer if you kept those thoughts of yours rated PG,” he said evenly, “and a tad quieter, Wade Wilson.”

“Professor Charles Xavier,” Wade said in a painfully bad British accent. “The man, the myth, the legend. It is an honor.” He stepped forward and gave a comically deep bow at the hips, dramatically fluttering his hands out like he was presenting royalty. Logan rolled his eyes in embarrassment, and a snort escaped from one of the teens.

“Enough with the pleasantries, Wade,” Xavier said evenly. “I appreciate you keeping an eye on the students while Logan and Ororo were away. I’ll reimburse you for the pizza.”

“My PayPal is DP69420. Make sure to select ‘friends and family,’” Wade whispered loudly, but Xavier kept going.

“I don’t want to turn anyone away from this school,” Xavier continued. “But I will give you one final chance.” He turned to Logan and Ororo, offering a small nod before continuing. “Wade, please apologize to Scott and Jean. Then find another room to stay in. And from this point forward, be on your best behavior. Let’s enjoy what’s left of summer break.”

Immediately, Wade shuffled over to Jean and Scott, reaching for their hands and dramatically pressing his forehead to their knuckles. Jean quickly pulled her hand away in disgust, and Scott soon followed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, overly solemn. But judging from their withering glares, it was clear the fiery rage inside them was far from extinguished.

Logan opened his mouth to object, ready to challenge whatever bizarre leniency Xavier was offering, but the professor spun his wheelchair around and zipped off down the hallway before anyone could argue. He stared after him, stunned. Turning to Ororo, she was equally baffled. She just shrugged, at a loss for words. 

The only voices left were the students, who had immediately surrounded Wade as if he were a rock star. He threw a fist in the air, grinning under his mask as they chanted in unison: “Deadpool! Deadpool! Deadpool!”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

A few hours had passed, and the dust had finally settled. The sound of Ororo’s footsteps echoed down the hall as she carried two mugs toward the apartment suite of Scott and Jean. Awkwardly, she reached out to knock with her hands full, only for the door to swing open on its own.

“I had a feeling you were outside,” Jean said with a wink, stepping aside to usher her in.

“Well, did you know I was bringing you tea?” Ororo laughed, walking into the living room and handing her the mug.

Jean mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ and brought the tea to her lips, only to recoil slightly from the heat. Without a word, Ororo touched the mug with her index finger, a thin blanket of frost quickly forming and then melting away. Jean smiled and took another sip, this time without flinching.

The two friends sat side by side on the couch, grateful and content to be in each other’s presence again. It had been a few weeks since they’d last seen each other, and both knew they had plenty to catch up on, but the words didn’t come right away. Instead, they sat in a quiet moment of hesitation, unsure where to begin. They both opened their mouths at the same time, then laughed, each retreating into a nervous sip of tea.

“I’m sorry you had to come home to a mess,” Ororo said finally, scanning the room. Aside from the muddy boot prints on the rug, a few holes in the wall from stray ninja stars, and a large garbage bag waiting by the front door, the rest of the space had survived.

“It’s fine,” Jean sighed, her eyes following Ororo’s to the boot stains. “He didn’t break anything, thank God. Everything else can be washed or replaced.”

Ororo nodded and quickly pivoted the conversation. “So… did you have a great trip?”

Jean lit up, her posture straightening with excitement. “We had a wonderful time! The alone time was exactly what we needed.” Her eyes fluttered with joy as memories of their European vacation danced through her mind. Then, with a knowing look, she nudged Ororo gently with her shoulder. “Speaking of alone time… looks like you and Logan have been having a bit of that yourselves.”

Ororo could feel her face grow warm as she tried to hide her smile. “Yeah,” she muttered, butterflies dancing behind her ribcage.

“Yeah? That’s it?” Jean teased, leaning in with a grin. “What’s going on between you two?”

“It’s all very new,” Ororo said with a small shrug, taking another bashful sip of tea. “We… enjoy spending time together.”

She was never one to get shy, but whatever this was between her and Logan felt private, like a quiet, sacred thing just for the two of them. Her thoughts wandered to the weekend they’d shared: quiet, intimate, full of moments she wasn’t quite ready to speak aloud.

“Well, how about this?” Jean said, sensing the moment and giving her friend some space. “What if we all went on a double date, like we go out for dinner or something?”

Ororo’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You think Logan would be on his best behavior… in a fancy restaurant… on a double date… with Scott in the room?”

Jean scoffed, immediately shaking her head. “Okay, fair. What was I thinking?” She paused, then brightened. “What if we did something outdoorsy? Hopefully, that gives them enough space. Literally and figuratively.”

Ororo laughed and nodded. “I’ll talk to him, but it sounds great.” Her smile lingered. The outdoors was always a good choice for both of them. “But enough about us,” she continued. “I want to hear about your trip.”

Jean wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in close. “Oh, Ro, it was all kinds of wonderful.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As Logan made his way down the hallway toward his apartment suite, he could hear another set of footsteps trailing behind. They weren’t light and poised like Ororo’s, nor the lazy shuffle of one of the teens. These were heavier, tactical. And it sure as hell wasn’t Scott.

Logan stopped in his tracks and inhaled deeply– not for tracking purposes, but to calm himself down. He already knew who it was.

“What is it, Wade?” Logan groaned, standing in place and waiting for the merc to catch up. He knew Wade wanted something. Avoiding him wouldn’t help; Wade would find a way to be annoying either way.

“Is family dinner always that good? I usually get to eat the leftovers after they’ve been in the fridge for a day or so, but eating a hot, home-cooked meal?” Wade scampered up beside him and moaned in delight, his mask rolled up to expose his entire face.

Logan tried to suppress the downward pull of his mouth as he looked at Wade up close. His skin was rough and uneven, a map of deep scarring; some healed, others still pink and raw. The color in his eyes had faded to a dull, washed-out yellow. And yet, somehow, his teeth were perfectly white and straight.

Oddly, Logan felt an overwhelming surge of sympathy toward Wade. Even if Wade was an annoying piece of shit pretty much all the time, there were parts of him that were painfully familiar. Both of them had been trained to be weapons, cursed with the same regenerative powers. They carried the same heavy weight: the inability to die, and, less severely, the fact that they were both Canadian.

Logan’s mind drifted to what Xavier had said earlier about not wanting to turn anyone away from the school. This was a place where the odd ones, the ones who didn’t fit anywhere else, could find their place. He thought of Laura and the conversation they’d shared about embracing the other mutants around. He supposed the same lesson applied to Wade, too.

“Hey, bub! Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” Wade snapped his fingers and tilted his head, breaking Logan out of his thoughts. Logan scoffed at him and rolled his eyes. As he moved toward his apartment door, Wade edged closer.

“So, as you might know, I recently became homeless…” Wade leaned dramatically against the doorframe, tracing a finger up and down the wall. “And I was wondering…”

Logan grunted and opened the door, giving the merc a flat, unreadable look. Wade tilted his head, lifting what little was left of his eyebrows. 

“Is this a vampire thing? Do I need permission to enter?” Wade asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Was Logan being… generous? Or was this a trap?

Logan gave a slight jerk of his head toward the room, an unspoken invitation. He decided that if Wade was going to crash anywhere in the mansion, he figured he might be the one to keep him under supervision.

“Oh my god, we’re roommates!” Wade gasped as he rushed into the main room. “Which side of the bed do I get?”

“Neither,” Logan muttered with a smile as he threw a pillow onto Wade’s chest. “Couch or floor. You pick.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

On their way to their outdoor outing with Scott and Jean, Logan promised Ororo he’d be on his best behavior. Ororo had chosen her words carefully the night before when she’d messaged him about the possibility of hanging out the next day. Logan was more than happy to spend his day with her, but when she mentioned Scott and Jean might join them, his enthusiasm tanked.

“ It won’t be so bad. I’ll be with you the entire time ,” she’d texted after a few minutes of him not replying.

In the glow of his cell phone screen, trying to ignore the rumble of Wade’s snores, Logan sighed. He knew everything would be better with her by his side. He’d finally responded with a simple “ OK ”, adding a thumbs-up and a kissy-face emoji for good measure. A stupid grin had spread across his face as he hit send, stunned by how wonderful this woman made him feel.

“What the fuck is pickleball?” Logan snarled, body rigid with arms crossed over his chest in disgust. The two couples stood in the center of the mansion's basketball court, with everyone but Logan wearing comfortable activewear.

“Oh, come on, old man. You gotta get with the times!” Scott chuckled mischievously as he tossed the pickleball into the air. “Everyone is playing it!” His ruby-tinted sunglasses glistened in the sunlight.

“I don’t want to play anything with the word pickle in it,” Logan grumbled. Across from him, Ororo gave him an icy, judgmental look. Easing up, he dialed back the defensiveness, but kept glaring at his rival all the same.

“Well, what about golf?” Jean chimed in, breaking up the tension between the two alpha males. “We’ve got some clubs in the shed. We could rent a cart and play a round at the nearby club?”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Ororo playfully agreed, linking arms with her friend. 

Both women knew that if the men played against the course instead of each other, they had a better shot at avoiding mutant-level brawls if someone lost. Yet, Scott raised an eyebrow, skeptical of what the girls were up to. Ororo knew Logan’s pulse was rising, so she sent him a pointed glare, silently urging him to agree.

“Sure. What the hell,” Logan sighed, surrendering to his girl’s wishes.

“Of course he’s fine with a round of golf,” Scott snarked. “He was probably around when they created it!”

Logan whipped his head toward Scott, a low growl rumbling in his chest. But before he could say anything, Ororo dug her elbow firmly into his side.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The scent of freshly cut turf mingled with the faint tang of summer heat. It was quiet on the green, the only sounds drifting through the air were the soft chirps of distant birds and the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. 

Jean adjusted her grip on the club and shuffled her feet carefully into place. When her hips felt loose and her stance secure, she twisted her torso and swung, striking the ball with a crisp smack. The golf ball soared high through the air, descending gracefully onto the perfectly manicured short grass. Jean clenched her fist in triumph and beamed.

“That’s my girl!” Scott barked proudly, throwing an arm around Jean. She giggled, leaning into his embrace, and kissed him on the lips.

Ororo and Logan sat side by side in the golf cart, politely clapping for Jean’s shot, but their applause slowed awkwardly as Jean and Scott’s kiss lingered longer than either of them cared to watch. Logan groaned in disgust, certain Scott was flaunting his wife just to get under his skin. Ororo placed her hand on his leg and gave him a gentle, understanding pat. She didn’t need to say a word– her touch told Logan she felt the awkwardness too.

Breaking from their kiss, Jean tucked her club into her bag and strolled over to Ororo and Logan’s golf cart.

“Alright, Logan, you’re up,” she said with a bright, friendly smile.

Logan gave a short nod and hefted himself out of the driver’s seat, gripping his club. Taking his place, Jean slipped into his empty spot beside Ororo and rested her head on her friend’s shoulder. Ororo leaned in and exhaled peacefully. She’d missed her friend while she was away and was grateful to have her back by her side.

The women watched as Logan approached the tee, nervously flicking his club in one hand while adjusting his feet for the perfect stance. Nearby, Scott hovered close, watching him with a scrutinizing eye. The green was silent as Logan prepared to swing, until the sound of approaching footsteps broke the hush.

“If you spread your stance a bit, you’ll have a better center of gravity,” Scott said, tapping the handle of his golf club against Logan’s ankles. Irritation bubbled inside Logan as Scott reached out to adjust his posture, pressing a hand to his shoulders. “You gotta relax a bit!” Scott persisted.

Back at the golf cart, the women watched the scene unfold, Logan swatting Scott’s hand away, Scott stubbornly trying to demonstrate the correct form. They held their breath, silently praying the spat wouldn’t escalate into claws or energy blasts. They couldn’t make out the exact words, but relief washed over them when Scott finally threw his hands in the air and Logan stomped back to the tee.

Somehow, between labored breaths of frustration, Logan swung and hit the ball with intense force. The ball zipped through the air, and Logan turned to Scott with a flash of bared teeth. Scott shook his head and held his hands in the air as he approached the location where Logan had just stood. 

“Men, am I right?” Jean chuckled in a hushed whisper, casting her friend a teasing look. 

Ororo nodded, even though her eyes stayed fixed on the green as Logan retaliated, this time critiquing Scott’s grip on the club. She cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at Logan, giving him a silent, unmistakable warning to leave it alone. He obeyed, stepping back from the tee with a begrudging huff.

“Damn, ‘Ro!” Jean said, leaning back in her seat with a smirk. “What did you do to that man? You’ve got him on a leash!”

“Oh, no…” Ororo laughed softly, tossing her hair back over her shoulder as a bashful smile crept across her face. “Don’t say that.” 

Turning away from watching the men, Jean scooted closer, her green eyes sparkling with delight. “You guys definitely banged,” she whispered, her voice heavy with vindication.

“Jean!” Ororo gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her cheeks burned, blushing from the inside out. What she shared with Logan was so new and private, and having someone else confront it felt like being steamrolled by a mix of exhilaration and embarrassment.

“I’m sorry!” Jean hissed, her voice now a frantic whisper as her face lit up. She grabbed Ororo’s thigh and gave it an excited squeeze. “I want to know everything! What was it like?”

“I don’t know… It’s really between me and him,” Ororo blurted out quickly, glancing nervously as the men approached the cart, praying they hadn’t overheard their intimate conversation. Logan caught her eye and gave her a soft smile. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she found herself smiling back.

“Hey boys! Ororo and I need girl time!” Jean called out, grinning as she flicked the ignition and stomped on the gas pedal. Before the men could respond, the golf cart shot forward, leaving Logan and Scott standing in a cloud of dust. The women couldn’t help but giggle as the warm breeze tousled their hair, laughter echoing across the quiet green.

“C’mon, you gotta tell me more!” Jean continued to pry. 

Visions from their weekend alone flashed through Ororo’s mind: Logan’s gentle touch, his lips tracing along her skin, kissing her, tasting her, devouring her. Their bodies moved in perfect sync as he drove himself into her. She remembered the feel of them naked together - in the field, in the shower, in the hotel bed. Lost between the sheets, tangled in each other, it was only the two of them, each bringing the other to the edge of ecstasy. Heat bloomed within Ororo as she daydreamed about having the animal of a man between her thighs once again.

“It was incredible,” Ororo hesitantly confessed, her eyes glossy from her arousing daydream. “He’s so gentle… yet so… dominant. He’s a lover. Hungry and devoted…”

As Jean approached her ball on the green, Ororo’s recollections of her new sex life echoed in her mind. The unadulterated, though carefully redacted, accounts of their weekend together sent a strange pang of jealousy down Jean’s spine. She loved Scott; he was her man, and they’d been together for many years. But after hearing how the man who once pined after her now worshiped her best friend, she left her feeling a swirl of curiosity and a twinge of envy she hadn’t expected. Logan was now on his knees, serving the goddess that Ororo was, leaving Jean having feelings she could never quite imagine.

Distracted, she made her putt with a little too much force and missed the hole. She gave it another try and, with a subtle flick of telekinesis, guided the ball gently into the cup. She felt no guilt whatsoever.

—

Meanwhile, the men begrudgingly sat side by side in the small golf cart. The space was barely enough for them both, and Logan twisted his body slightly away from Scott so their shoulders wouldn’t knock together. They rode in silence, both staring straight ahead at the sprawling hills of manicured grass.

“Storm looks happy,” Scott said finally, breaking the silence. Logan grunted in acknowledgment, determined not to encourage any more conversation. He silently prayed Scott would drop it. But, of course, Scott kept going. “Does this mean you’re finally over Jean?”

Logan’s first instinct was to growl and get right in Scott’s face, but something held him back. Instead, he found himself flashing a smirk. The little moments he’d shared with Ororo lately had completely distracted him from any lingering thoughts of Jean. He realized he hadn’t thought about her at all this summer. Glancing across the green, he caught a glimpse of his goddess’s beautiful white hair glistening in the sun. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent he associated only with her– patchouli and summer rain.

“I’ve been over her for years now,” Logan said confidently, folding his hands behind his head. “She’s all yours, Slim.”

“Yeah,” Scott snapped, bravado barely covering his bruised ego. “You were still in love with her.”

Even behind Scott’s ruby-tinted sunglasses, Logan could tell his eyes were flicking between the path ahead and Logan, searching for any sign of a reaction. But Logan remained calm and quiet, the smirk still playing across his lips. Scott loved that Jean had chosen him, that he possessed the one thing Logan could never have. But now, realizing Logan was genuinely no longer interested, Scott was seething with churlishness.

“During our trip, you wouldn’t believe some of the nights Jean and I had together,” Scott chuckled, twisting the golf cart’s steering wheel between his hands. “She’s incredible in the sack, man.” He glanced sideways at Logan, hoping to provoke a reaction, but there was nothing. Not even a twitch. Scott wanted to set the Wolverine off, so he aimed lower. “Is Storm a good fuck?”

“Have some respect, asshole!” Logan growled, shifting his weight to face Scott, rocking the cart with the force of his movement.

Scott pulled the cart to a halt. With a casual shrug, he hopped out and reached for his putter from his golf bag. “Just tryin’ to have some guy talk, man.”

Logan stalked after him, eyes narrowed in a piercing glare as Scott made his way toward his ball. Logan trailed behind, gripping his putter, his shoulders rising and falling with angry, labored breaths.

—

Tensions were high on the green, and the mutants didn’t need Jean’s powers to feel it. Ororo felt guilty as though she’d confessed too much about her private love life, and Jean now knew far too much. Scott no longer held the upper hand with Logan, now that Logan wasn’t pining over Jean, and Logan was thoroughly annoyed by Scott’s childish pride. 

The women sat quietly side by side, watching as the men shuffled their feet into position for their final putt. Logan stepped up to his ball, twisting his hands around the grip of his club. His mind wandered, and frustration quickened his pulse, distracting him from the shot. He struck the ball with a bit too much force, sending it skimming past the hole and rolling away. He groaned in annoyance but lined up for another try.

He glanced toward Ororo, who gave him a gentle nod of encouragement. Having someone on his side was a new feeling, but one he found he enjoyed more than he expected. Taking a steadying breath, he gave the ball a gentler putt. A subtle breeze whispered across the green, carrying it neatly into the hole. Logan’s eyes lifted to meet Ororo’s. She winked and blew him a kiss.

“Nice work, but you’re over par.” Scott puffed out his chest and planted his hands on his hips. “If I make this hole, I win.”

“Go for it, bub,” Logan muttered, rolling his eyes as he walked toward the cart to return his club.

Scott stepped up to his ball and confidently settled into position. His knees were loose, his back straight, arms taut, eyes locked on the ball. With a subtle hit, he tapped it, only to watch it go skidding off to the far side of the green.

“Fuck!” he shouted, stomping across the grass after his runaway ball.

Logan snickered in delight, and Ororo gasped in surprise.

“I needed to humble him a bit,” Jean whispered in her friend’s ear, flicking her index finger from her thumb lightly in the air. Ororo laughed softly, though Jean could tell there was still a hint of reluctance lingering in her friend’s presence.

“Thanks for sharing about your love life, ‘Ro,” Jean continued gently. “I’m really happy for you two. Honest.”

Ororo wrapped her arm around Jean and brought her in close for a warm hug. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“So, I’m assuming you’re sleeping over?” Ororo cooed, lying beside him, their bodies touching beneath her soft sheets.

“If that’s alright with you, darlin’,” he murmured, holding her close and tracing his thumb gently over her soft skin. “I’d much rather spend the night with you than Wade.”

Ororo laughed softly through her nose and shifted to rest her head on his bare chest. His warmth and steady heartbeat grounded her.

“Jean asked if we were a thing,” she said, smiling as her eyes lifted to meet his. She knew it was a bold thing to say, but with him, she felt safe enough to share it.

Logan brushed his fingers lightly along her cheek, the backs of his knuckles gliding over her skin. Captivated by her beauty and the closeness of her body, a fluttering elation twisted in his stomach. He wasn’t one for labels or long explanations; he just knew he really enjoyed spending time with Ororo Munroe.

“Well, if two consenting adults who like to spend time with each other and sleep together are a thing… then I guess that’s what we are,” he finally replied, letting out a gentle chuckle.

Ororo couldn’t hide her grin as she pushed herself up, slowly crawling on top of him. With her hips pressing against his, she held herself over him, both hands framing his face. A blush of excitement washed over Logan’s features as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Her voice dropped low and sultry. “That sounds perfect to me.”

Logan didn’t need words to agree. Instead, he returned her kisses with growing heat, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in close.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Chapter Text

“Now, who’s ready for a barbecue?” Jean sang as she entered the dining room, her arms full of two large bags of groceries. Close behind her were Kurt and Gambit, both struggling under the weight of multiple grocery bags. They finally reached the table and dropped their loads with a heavy thud.

Like an old married couple, Logan and Wade sat side by side at the table, each holding a section of the newspaper. Wade had his mask rolled up to his nose as he nibbled on a piece of toast, while Logan took a long, deliberate sip of his coffee. Both men stared blankly at Jean, clearly unsure why she was so excited.

“It’s the Fourth of July? The American holiday?” Jean prompted, her voice bright as she raised an eyebrow, as if stating the obvious.

The two men simply shrugged in unison, their faces a study in mild apprehension.

“Babe, they’re Canadian,” Scott said as he waltzed into the dining room, shoulders back and chin high. He was wearing a shirt decked out in obnoxious red, white, and blue stars and stripes, puffing out his chest as though he were Captain America himself.

“Alright, Steve Rogers, keep it down,” Logan sighed, pushing himself to his feet to help the boys carry the rest of the bags into the kitchen. He shot a narrow-eyed glare at Scott, who quickly followed and hurried to grab the remaining bags off the table. Scott returned wearing an annoyed expression, groceries awkwardly bundled in his arms. He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek, part affection, part petty attempt to provoke Logan, though Logan didn’t seem to care.

“You know, we had Canada Day a few days ago, and no one said anything,” Wade piped up, suddenly hopping to his feet. 

“Well, I didn’t see you celebrating,” Jean replied with an upturned nose as she followed Scott and Logan into the kitchen. Her tone held a tinge of irritation, still filled with annoyance that the merc was still living in the house.  

Wade rolled his eyes as he swore under his breath and fell back into his seat. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Rogue sat in front of her large mirror, makeup scattered across the vanity as she mouthed the words to a pop song playing from her speaker. She carefully batted her lashes against the mascara wand, winked, then blew herself a kiss in the glass. In the mirror’s reflection, she glanced over at her friends, Jubilee and Laura, who were lounging on her bed, singing along. She couldn’t help but smile as her heart swelled with happiness. She had been spending this summer surrounded by her closest friends and had gotten even closer to the guy she had been crushing on. 

“Where’d you get that bracelet?” Laura asked, squinting one eye shut as Jubilee held her other eyebrow in place, mid-tweeze. She let out a small grunt as Jubilee repositioned her face into the sunlight. 

“Remy got it for me,” Rogue replied as she picked up the bracelet from her vanity. The purple glow lay dormant as the dark metal beads shimmered in the daylight. “It’s cute, isn’t it?” 

Jubilee tutted in agreement. “Lemme see it,” she said, extending her hand, but Rogue brought the bracelet close to her chest.

“No way, it’s special.” Rogue shook her head and slipped it over her wrist. Her gaze became heavy, and the script on the heavy beads began to pulse a purple glow. She let out a lofty sigh as a wave of relaxation washed over her. 

“Whoa, it glows too?” Laura chimed in, eyes narrowed as she examined the bracelet from afar. “What is it?” 

A knock at the door interrupted the girls, saving Rogue from an explanation. Rising to her feet, she raised her eyebrows in delight and shot her friends a knowing smile as she sauntered over to the door.

“Mon chéri,” Gambit greeted her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. He peeked over her shoulder and gave a nod and a wave hello to the girls on the bed, then lowered his voice for her ears only. “I brought you something from the store.”

A playful glint shone in his dark eyes as he brought forward a small teddy bear clutching a felt rose, revealing what he’d been hiding behind his back. 

Rogue blushed, pressing the plush bear against her nose. “Aww, sugah,” she cooed. “I love it.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Even with the power suppressant bracelet still secured on her wrist, a rush of electricity fluttered through her chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I have another gift... for us,” Gambit murmured between kisses, a devilish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Rogue pulled back, intrigued.

With a flick of his wrist, a small box of condoms appeared in his palm.

Rogue’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Jean let you buy those?” she whispered, eyes darting between Gambit’s cheeky grin and the box. She reached behind her to close the door slightly for some privacy.

“Of course not. I pocketed them.” He said it proudly, then kissed her again, this time harder, relishing the thrill of being one step closer to sharing something more intimate with her.

She broke the kiss with a sharp look. “Remy, yuh can’t be stealing things!” she hissed, snatching the box from his hand. Her cheeks flushed as she read the words printed across it– pleasure, lubrication, sensational. Her skin felt hot with a wave of excitement and nervousness.

“Oh, but chérie, you’ve already stolen my heart,” he replied smoothly, wrapping his arms around her waist and drawing her back in for another kiss.

Their giggles melted between kisses as the young couple embraced, completely wrapped up in each other. Only a few days before, with the assistance of the power suppressant bracelet, Rogue was free from her powers and was able to explore the deeper meaning of intimacy with Gambit. 

They stole kisses in the hallway and snuck into each other’s rooms past curfew, bringing each other to their respective edges. Every night they brought themselves closer, yet they yearned to take things ever farther. A hunger for more sparked between them as the couple’s kisses became needier, crushing lips and heavier breaths. 

Lost in a whirlwind of just each other, the couple was blissfully unaware that their fleeting privacy had slipped away. The bedroom door creaked open, offering the friends a perfect view from across the room.

“Y’all are disgusting!” Laura hollered, holding back a smile through cupped hands, all while Jubilee fell into a fit of laughter beside her. “Get a room!”

Rogue quickly pulled herself away from Gambit, her cheeks burning hot as she covered her face with her hands. He smirked with delight and gave the girls a friendly nod. Giving him a flustered wave goodbye, Rogue hurried to her vanity seat, trying to compose herself. In the scramble, she accidentally set the box of condoms down right on her desk, completely in view of her friends.

“Wait,” Jubilee’s voice whined as she wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks. She leaned forward with narrowed eyes to read the box placed on Rogue’s vanity. “Are you guys having sex?”

Rogue’s head snapped toward the misplaced box of condoms, and she quickly shoved it into the drawer below. Her heart lurched with a mix of intense embarrassment and bubbling excitement. Touch had always been complicated for her– but now, trying to explain that not only could she finally touch someone, but that she was also sharing deeply intimate moments with her boyfriend? That felt even harder.

“Not yet…” Rogue replied, nervously biting her lower lip as she tried to hold back a smile.

“But how?” Laura asked, shaking her head in confusion. “With your powers, you can’t touch anyone…”

Rising from her chair, Rogue began to pull off one of her gloves, finger by finger. On her opposite wrist, the bracelet continued to glow with a vibrant purple hue. She stepped toward Jubilee, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and gently placed her bare hand on the exposed skin of Jubilee’s knee.

Jubilee flinched instinctively, recoiling from the touch in anticipation of pain, but nothing happened. Rogue gave her thigh a playful squeeze, and Jubilee twitched at the ticklish feeling.

Jubilee’s eyes went wide in disbelief, then lit up with delight. “Oh my god,” she squealed, and leapt into her friend’s arms, wrapping her in an excited hug. “You have to tell us everything!!”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

In the backyard of the mansion, Jean began preparing for the barbecue. She had missed her X-Men family during her vacation with Scott and couldn’t help but worry about how they’d managed without her. She didn’t see herself as a matriarch, exactly– but as Charles’ first student at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, she felt a quiet responsibility to uphold a sense of unity within their pseudo-family. 

Jean hustled between the house and the garage, using her telekinesis to move tables, chairs, a large ice chest, and the barbecue out into the yard. Once everything was positioned just right, she wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and looked around for the final touch. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled a large, rugged box down from the garage rafters and set it gently at her feet. Her face lit up as she opened it. It was packed with decorations: red, white, and blue tablecloths, streamers, flags, and novelty hats. Jean beamed, excitement fluttering in her chest at the thought of enjoying a bit of normalcy. 

When Jean returned to the yard, she found Scott at the grill, fanning the charcoal with his hand. Logan stood beside him, a beer can in one hand and the other resting on his hip.

“You didn’t let the coals get hot enough, see? Still cold in the center,” Logan slurred slightly, pointing into the barbecue before taking a long swig. It was a holiday, and under his own made-up rules, that meant unlimited beer after 9 a.m.

“Logan, mind your own business. I don’t see you helping out,” Scott snapped, gesturing broadly toward the yard. “Jean did all this.” He shot his wife a look of appreciation, and Jean returned a tight-lipped smile as she laid down a red, white, and blue tablecloth, clearly choosing to stay out of their bickering.

“I have been helping,” Logan growled, mirroring Scott’s gesture and jabbing a thumb toward the mansion’s back door. “I’ve been prepping food and shit.” He squinted through another swig, eyes narrowing with annoyance.

“It sounds like you’ve been doing a lot more drinking than helping,” Scott sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. Deep down, he knew better than to provoke the beast called Wolverine, but he just couldn’t help himself.

Logan huffed, the sound building into a growl as he crushed the beer can in his hand. “You’re not doing shit either! You can’t even start a damn barbecue!” he barked, jabbing a finger toward the cold coals.

Scott gritted his teeth and turned toward the grill. Without another word, he lifted his ruby-tinted glasses and unleashed a sharp optic blast. The charcoal exploded into flames, leaping high into the air with a loud whoosh.

Logan threw his head back in laughter, the fire reflecting in his eyes. “Now that’s how you light a fire, Slim!”

“What the fuck , Scott!” Jean shouted from across the yard, hands on her hips, her voice sharp with disbelief. The irritation bubbling inside her lifted her feet from the ground, and she glided toward them in a controlled fury.

The two men laughed in delight as the flames died down, settling beneath the grill. Logan wheezed between laughs as he opened the ice chest and tossed a cold beer at Scott’s chest. Scott chuckled as he caught it, cracked it open, and knocked knuckles with Logan. Most of the time, they couldn’t stand each other– but at the end of the day, they were brothers through the X-Men.

“Now, what’s all the commotion?” Ororo’s voice was playful as she strolled into the yard, carrying a large salad bowl in one arm and a margarita glass in the other. Placing the bowl upon the table, she took a slow sip and lifted her eyebrows toward Jean, whose eyes were locked in an unamused glare at the two men.

“We’re just guys being guys,” Scott laughed, slapping a hand on Logan’s shoulder. Logan grunted in both agreement and from the force of the slap. The two men raised their beers in a lazy cheer toward Ororo, and she raised her drink in return with an amused smirk.

But Ororo could feel Jean’s eyes on her– heavy, frustrated, and very much done with the day’s chaos. Jean had been stressing about this party all morning, and the added nonsense from the men wasn’t helping. Bickering, playful or not, was only making things harder. With another sip of her drink, Ororo casually wrapped her arm around Logan’s shoulder and gently steered him toward the mansion.

“Jean, love, let me make you a drink. And Logan, get inside, I need help cutting some fruit.” 

Logan’s cheeks flushed, and he planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Fingers laced with hers, he followed without protest, happily pulled away from the testosterone-fueled tension and into her orbit.

Jean waited until the couple was out of earshot before closing the space between her and Scott. Her eyes shimmered a fiery red with irritation as she began to interrogate him.

“What is your problem?” she scolded, her voice low and sharp, each word laced with warning. Her chest rose and fell with heated breaths as she stared at him down, hoping he’d choose his next words wisely.

“What’s my problem? I didn’t do anything.” Scott shrugged, throwing his hands up in mock innocence.

Jean narrowed her eyes. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Don’t get Logan riled up, especially when he’s drunk. I want a peaceful day with no fighting.”

Scott’s posture sank as his face softened, a trace of guilt flickering beneath his sunglasses. He glanced past her and winced. “Not the best time, buddy,” he muttered.

Jean whipped her head around, only to see the last person she wanted crashing the party.

“Oohh, I want a hot dog!” Deadpool shouted with glee, clapping his hands like a little kid.

Jean groaned and shook her head. With a sharp twist of her fingers, energy coiled in her palm and burst forward in a psychic blast. It hit Wade square in the chest, launching him across the yard and landing him on the mansion’s roof.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Back in the kitchen, a blender full of margarita mix, ice, and tequila sat chilling on the counter. A cutting board with an uncut melon waited patiently to be sliced. For a bustling holiday filled with endless mains and sides, the kitchen was unusually still, its chef and her sous chef nowhere to be found.

They had gotten distracted, lost in each other’s orbit. They barely made it into his bedroom- Ororo’s legs wrapped around Logan’s waist, his back pressed against the door. She kissed him hard, her fingers tangled in his hair, holding his face close to hers. His strong hands gripped her back, anchoring her to him as he groaned between kisses, gasping for breath. The cool metal of his belt dug into her exposed midriff, and her fingers fumbled to unbuckle it. Maybe it was the hot summer breeze. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was just the thrill of a playful afternoon delight.

Logan lowered her to the floor and shifted on top of her, hips rocking free from his jeans as she did the same. In one eager motion, he drove himself into her, slick and warm, like the heavy summer air itself. Ororo moaned against his neck, urging him deeper, her hips rising to meet each of his powerful thrusts. A storm began to brew between them. The air thickened, their skin damp with heat and sweat, each movement more urgent than the last. The musky scent of sex hung in the room, signaling the coming peak. Her soft cries stirred like howling wind; his growls answered like rolling thunder. The hair on his arms stood on end as her glowing blue eyes fluttered, heavy with elation.

Then, like the first crack of lightning that heralds a storm, the electricity between them finally hit. His body flinched with overwhelming ecstasy, frantically pumping inside of her, as her back arched and walls pulsed around him. With hands above her face, and with a shuddering groan of pleasure, his claws extended in relief. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The sun dipped low toward the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and violet, but the night was just getting started. Upbeat music thumped from the speakers, and the grill sizzled with an array of meats and roasted vegetables. The long table was crowded with snacks and sides, with a beautifully frosted cake taking center stage. Around the campfire, adults and students sat together with full plates on their laps and party cups brimming with drinks. Loud booms echoed across the property as distant fireworks lit up the dusky, darkening sky; other celebrations were already underway.

Jubilee rose to her feet, knowing her time had come. She pointed both index fingers skyward, dancing to the rhythm of the music as she launched bursts of colorful sparks into the air. Blues, whites, and reds exploded above the gathering, glittering like stars and earning cheers from the crowd as she leapt and twirled in the grass. Clenching her fists, she charged up until the energy became too much to contain, then blasted it skyward. A fountain of yellow fireworks burst above them in a brilliant display, followed by a thunderous boom. Giggling in delight, Jubilee carried on with her dazzling show.

Rogue sat close to Gambit by the fire, their shoulders brushing gently with each movement. As she watched Jubilee’s firework show light up the night sky, her mind drifted back to his visit earlier that day. Her stomach twisted with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. A hunger had been building inside her, growing deeper, needier, with every stolen moment they shared. She ached to know what it would feel like to have him completely, to feel him between her thighs.

But it was a big step- for her, and their relationship. Remy had been her first in so many ways, and though it felt right, this final step carried weight. Once they crossed that line, there would be no going back. She swallowed hard as a shiver ran down her spine. So what was she waiting for? 

“You okay?” Gambit whispered in her ear. As she turned to him, she saw the fireworks sparkle in his dark eyes. Her heart fluttered; she was completely enamored with his clever smile and shaggy red hair.

“I was just thinkin’,” she murmured, her voice low and coy. Her gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes. “Just thinkin’ ‘bout me and you… and what you brought over today.”

Gambit raised his eyebrows, caught off guard by her boldness. He chuckled softly, glancing around. Everyone staying at the mansion was out in the yard, fully distracted by the fireworks and food.

“I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready,” he said gently, lowering his voice as he sipped his soda. “But… we’d have the mansion to ourselves.”

Heat crept along Rogue’s neck, and the wanting ache in her chest thudded louder. She scratched the back of her neck nervously, but her heart already knew the answer. “I’m ready, Remy. Really,” she said, nodding with soft certainty. “I just want it to be special.”

“And what’s more special than tonight?” Gambit smiled, tilting his head toward the sky.

A massive firework bloomed overhead, scattering golden sparks that rained down like magic. Fireflies drifted lazily between the stars and lingering bursts of color. Her heart swelled; it was perfect.

He rose and extended his hand toward her. Their gloved fingers intertwined, and true to their names, the two vanished into the night.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Naked and illuminated by the glow of moonlight, Remy held himself above his Anna Marie. She was nestled in the blankets of her dorm room bed, her soft, plush skin kissed with goosebumps from anticipation. His heart pounded against his ribcage, echoing in his ears, his breath growing shallow as he looked down at the beautiful woman beneath him. With a gentle touch, he brushed her white bangs from her face, revealing eyes wide with delight. She offered him a nervous smile, then nodded for him to continue.

His gaze flicked briefly to the glowing power-suppressant bracelet on her wrist, its steady purple pulse a reassurance that it was working. He trusted it, but even if it weren’t, he’d let her drain every ounce of power he had just to know what it felt like to be with her. Still, it was her comfort he cared about most.

Her body, bathed in shadow, was breathtaking, with soft curves, warm skin, and the rise and fall of her chest beneath him. He brought his hand to her hip, tracing a line from her waist to her thigh with slow, reverent fingers. His growing arousal throbbed with urgency, but he held himself back.

“C’mon,” she whined softly, rolling her hips toward him, aching for more. The sound of her voice, the heat between them, it undid him. Swallowing hard, Remy rolled his shoulders back and gave a small nod. No more hesitation. She was ready. So was he.

He reached for the condom and fumbled with the wrapper, his hands slightly trembling with anticipation. Carefully, he rolled it onto his growing length, pausing to make sure it was secure. A soft chuckle escaped him as the irony crossed his mind– after all the precautions, all the risks they'd faced just to be this close, it was this thin piece of latex that stood between them and something even bigger. He was about to make love to a mutant with extreme powers, yet this was the barrier that mattered now. Smirking to himself, he was jolted back to the moment as she bucked her hips again, urging him forward with silent, aching need.

“Okay, okay,” He cooed, positioning himself over her, awkwardly moving limbs to find the right position. In the darkness of her bedroom, a flash of purple and yellow lit up the room, and a low rumble soon followed. She was beautiful under the light of the fireworks, and he carefully slid himself into her.

A muffled murmur left Anna’s lips, and Remy froze. 

“Chérie, are you okay?” Remy’s voice trembled, his body already beginning to dissolve into pleasure.

“Oh, Remy,” her voice poured out like hot honey. “It just feels so good.” She writhed beneath him, her back arching as the bracelet on her wrist pulsed a steady, glowing purple.

A nervous laugh rose from Remy’s chest, and he swallowed hard. Anna rocked her hips against his, riding him slow and deep. Bliss washed over him in waves, and he struggled to stay in sync with her rhythm. She was so warm, so slick, so tight– everything and nothing swirled through his mind, and all of it felt impossibly good.

“Remy,” she whimpered again, moaning his name like it was a secret only they shared. His heart twisted, and he lost himself in the sound of it. Matching her rhythm, they moved together with rolling hips, bodies aligned to the same aching pulse. He was close, closer than he’d ever been. His breath hitched, and he opened his eyes.

There she was beneath him, the love of his life. Her wide eyes met his, lips parted, pouting softly, hungry for his kiss.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he said at last, voice low and raw, before pressing his lips to hers.

Maybe it was because they were mutants. Maybe it was the fireworks against the hot, summer night. Maybe it was love, but whatever it was, the pleasure between them ignited in rippling shockwaves, warmth, and sparks pulsing in every fiber of their beings. He collapsed onto her, skin against skin, and she wrapped her arms around him, cradling the back of his head as their heavy breaths slowed in sync.

“I think I’m in love with you too,” she whispered.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Chapter Text

Meanwhile …

Cozied up in his arms, Ororo let her shoulders sink back into Logan’s chest. They sat together on the cool grass, her body framed between his legs and strong arms. He leaned close, the scruff of his cheek brushing against her soft skin. She could smell the liquor on his lips, and by now, he’d abandoned beer for the flask of whiskey he hid in his back pocket.

Logan let out a few drunken grunts of approval as they watched Jubilee’s firework show, and Ororo released a soft laugh in response. She thought he was cute, charming even– when he allowed himself to enjoy the moment and let those rugged, tough-guy, loner walls fall away. Extending her legs, she pressed herself closer into him, feeling the heavy strength of his body grounding her.

Her hand found his, her delicate fingers tracing over his large, almost animalistic paws. She let them wander lightly across the deep scars carved between his knuckles. It struck her as curious, even beautiful, that a man as dangerous as the Wolverine could still have such unexpectedly soft hands.

Logan answered by pressing his scruffy cheek tighter to hers and planting a sloppy, whiskey-wet kiss against her skin. Her heart fluttered in her chest, mirroring the fireworks bursting overhead, and she couldn’t help but giggle. She had always been reserved, keeping to herself at the mansion. But what started as a simple summer fling with Logan had bloomed into something far deeper, leaving her breathless. She didn’t have a second to think twice about it– she was swept up in him, caught in the warmth of a love that felt undeniable and true. 

The couple watched as Jubilee carried on with her firework show, dancing and twirling through the grass while colorful sparks burst from her palms with each swing of her arms. Their friends clapped to the beat of a familiar pop song, cheering her on with laughter and delight. Yet, across the yard, another set of eyes wasn’t on Jubilee or the fireworks at all; it was fixed on the new couple instead.

Jean crossed her arms over her chest as her brows drew together without her realizing it. She watched her dear friend nestled against the man who had spent years pining after her, the same man who once showered her with attention on top of the unrelenting devotion she already received from her teenage sweetheart. That strange pang twisted in her stomach, and though she knew exactly what it was, she was reluctant to call it by its name.

Logan had always been hers in a way, tethered to her by an unspoken string. She knew he’d always love her, even if Scott was her endgame. She had grown accustomed to his quiet acts of service; fetching things for her, stepping in when she needed help, doing even the smallest tasks without complaint. She was loyal to Scott, yes, but she also knew how to toe the line, how to take advantage of the fact that Logan would drop to his knees if she asked him to.

But since her return, Logan had hardly given her the time of day. He ignored her texts or answered hours later with short replies. He was distant now, only appearing if she truly needed him. And then there was Ororo, her best friend. The silence and lack of texts during Jean’s vacation now made cruel sense. Jean’s mind spiraled with questions, each thought sharper than the last. Where had this started? When? How? Why hadn’t she seen it coming? Her jaw clenched as she stewed in the rising heat of jealousy.

She thought nothing of it at first— she was happy to see her friend so happy. But then the tiny spark of jealousy started small and continued to grow inside her. Maybe it was watching Ororo and Logan together, so openly expressive with their affection, or maybe it was the alcohol lowering her inhibitions and feeding the green-eyed monster stirring inside. She bit the inside of her lip, fighting the urge to bite hard enough to draw blood.

Startling her, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. The hot breath of hoppy beer brushed against her cheek, making her wrinkle her nose in disgust.

“Hey, babe, are you havin’ fun?” Scott slurred, squeezing his wife tighter in his arms. Curious about why she kept her arms crossed so close to her chest, he pressed on. “Are you… okay? Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine,” Jean replied curtly, writhing in his grip until she slipped free. Her look of annoyance clashed with his surprised expression, and her heart twisted. Why was she having these feelings about Logan when her husband was standing right in front of her?

“I just…” she murmured, swallowing hard as her eyes flicked toward the fireworks overhead. “I just need a moment.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” Scott gave a half-hearted shrug and a downturned smile. She could tell he was several beers deep by the heavy sway of his head before he stumbled off to find a seat on the grass. 

As the song for Jubilee’s performance reached its bridge, the performer dropped low, shuffling her shoulders with focus and flair. Clenching her fists, she built up her charge, bright yellow and white sparks crackling in her palms. Nodding to the beat, she locked in, ready for the grand finale.

As the song hit its final chorus, Jubilee leapt high into the air and threw her hands above her head, unleashing a brilliant cascade of light. A shower of glowing purple and yellow fireworks sparkled across the night sky, drifting down like glittering snow. 

The party roared in delight, and Jubilee gave her audience a dramatic, theatrical bow.

“That was incredible, Jubilee! What an amazing way to share your powers with everyone!” Professor Xavier beamed, offering a warm round of applause with Hank by his side. 

Jubilee bowed again in his direction, basking in the praise. As she rose, her eyes scanned the crowd, looking towards her friends and teachers. Laura and Kurt sat closely together, wildly clapping their hands and offering excited hoots and hollers. She found it curious that Storm was sitting between Logan’s legs, but she was thankful to see them both smiling and offering a soft applause. Then there was Jean and Scott, standing the furthest away, but still celebrating her performance. Jubilee’s heart pulsed with pride, but an ache built in her throat as she couldn’t find her friends Rogue and Gambit. Where had they gone? Did they miss her show?

“Thank you so much, Jubilee, for the opening act and warming up the crowd!” a voice called out as the applause faded. Emerging from the shadows in his signature red and black suit, Wade appeared with a comically tall top hat perched on his head.

“It’s me, your friendly neighborhood Deadpool! And tonight, I’m putting on a fireworks show that’s illegal in 28 states, 3 provinces, and 1 territory.” He dropped a large duffel bag at his feet and rummaged inside, pulling out two oversized roman candles and a heavy-duty propane torch. “Now, who’s ready for a fucking show?!” He hollered.  

Before any of the adults could intervene, Wade lit the fuse. A deafening series of bangs cracked through the sky, echoing off the mansion walls. Flashes of red and white strobed across the yard as Wade howled with excitement. With both fireworks clutched in his hands, he spun on his toes, shooting rockets in every direction while the rest of the party clutched their ears in shock.

Jubilee dove for safety into Laura and Kurt’s arms just as the merc lit his next round. Tossing the empty roman candles aside, Wade grabbed a fistful of bottle rockets and set the wicks ablaze all at once. He giggled madly as each rocket screamed and zipped chaotically through the air. One shot past Ororo and Logan, another veered dangerously close to Jean’s head, before a final blast detonated with a sharp boom right at the feet of Laura, Jubilee, and Kurt. The students shrieked and scrambled to their feet while Wade let out another howl of delight.

“What the fuck!” Laura roared, fists clenching as her claws unsheathed with a metallic snikt . Her shoulders lifted, teeth bared, and eyes blazing with rage.

“Aww, lil’ baby Wolvie!” Wade taunted, a devilish smirk audible even under his mask as he rummaged through his duffel of explosives. “If you’ve got the same healing powers as your dad, you’ll be fine!”

The sound of Laura’s claws extending cut through the chaos and brought Logan to his feet. Any haze of drunkenness from his all-day drinking evaporated instantly— he was stone-cold sober now. He knew Laura could hold her own; he’d seen her fight Wade before, but the instinct to protect his kid surged out of him like wildfire.

“Here, watch what your pop can do!” Deadpool shouted, yanking out a mortar the size of a golf ball and sparking the wick. He tossed it in Logan’s direction, but Logan was faster. With one swift motion, he volleyed it back toward the merc with an open palm. The biggest explosion of the night shook the yard, a white-hot flash blinding everyone for a moment. As vision returned, severed fingers and splatters of blood littered the grass.

“Oh shit,” Wade groaned, staring down at the stump of his wrist where his hand used to be. “That was my good hand...”

Jubilee and Kurt screamed in horror as they clung to each other, vanishing in an instant into a cloud of blue smoke. Laura was left alone, wide-eyed and trembling. “What the fuck?” she whispered, stepping back as her gaze snapped to her father.

Logan’s chest heaved, breath ragged, a low growl vibrating from deep inside him. Even in the darkness, Laura could see his eyes glossed with animal rage. His jaw jutted forward, lips curling into a snarl as, with a guttural roar, he unsheathed his adamantium claws.

“That’s right,” Deadpool purred, his voice low and taunting, arms spread wide. “Come to daddy.”

Logan lunged, slamming into Wade’s torso and tackling him to the ground. The merc writhed, trying to shimmy free from the crushing weight of adamantium, but his gut was torn open by three razor-sharp claws. Pain burned through Wade like jet fuel, igniting every nerve. The agony only thrilled him; this was the fight he’d been craving all summer.

With a flick of his wrist, Wade reached to his boot, pulling free a short knife. He swapped hands in a blur and drove the blade into Logan’s side. Logan groaned from the sharp sting, but Wade only giggled in delight–  poking the beast was half the fun. Seizing the moment, Wade rolled his weight, pinning Logan beneath him. Straddling the Wolverine’s waist, he pressed a gloved hand to Logan’s throat and leaned in close, blowing him a mocking kiss before tightening his grip.

Logan roared, humiliated and furious at being pinned. With claws extended, his fists pounded into Wade’s abdomen again and again, ripping through flesh, organs, and bone with each brutal strike.

“Oh, harder! Deeper!” Wade coughed between the blood that bubbled from his mouth, his voice thick with glee. What a treat it was, fighting a Wolverine in full berserker rage.

Across the yard, Professor Xavier shot a knowing look toward Jean. With a short nod, she already understood. Extending her hands, she seized both men in her telekinetic grip, their bodies going limp like rag dolls. Suspended by their collars, they dangled a few feet above with their blood dripping onto the ground.

“Enough!” The Professor’s voice boomed across the yard, silencing the chaos. “Deadpool, you must leave at once.”

Jean released the merc, and he crumpled to the ground with a grunt. All eyes followed him as he staggered upright, dusting himself off. He opened his mouth to protest, but Xavier’s voice thundered directly into his mind: LEAVE . The psychic command reverberated so loudly in his skull that Wade clutched his head, grabbed his duffle bag, and bolted toward the main road without another word.

“And Logan,” Xavier continued, his voice low and weighted with disappointment, “you are a leader here. I expect more from you.”

Logan’s body hung in the air for a moment, shame heavy on his shoulders, before Jean released him. He dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Without another glance, the Professor turned his chair toward the mansion and calmly ushered everyone inside.

As Jean passed, she slowed, her eyes narrowing at her closest friend. A sharp, knowing smirk tugged at her lips. “Learn how to control your man, Ororo.” The words dripped like venom, carrying not only judgment but possession, as if Logan had once belonged to her and still should.

The jab cut deep. Ororo stood speechless, her arms falling uselessly to her sides as the sting of Jean’s words settled heavy in her chest, sinking her heart down into her stomach.

Above her, dark, heavy clouds began to gather in what had been a clear sky. The air thickened with tension, and the night went suddenly, bitterly quiet. The party was over.

Chapter Text

“Nelson, Murdock, and Page, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Karen? I need to talk to Matt.” 

“Um, sorry? Who is this?”

“It’s uhh, It’s me, Peter! It’s Peter Parker!”

“Alright, troll, I’m not doing this. Goodbye.”

“No, no, no, okay, sorry. It’s Wade Wilson.”

“Deadpool?”

“Yes! Now let me talk to Matt.”

“Why?” 

“Just, c’mon, I have a legal issue…” 

“Is someone stealing your identity again? Another variant?” 

“No, Karen! It’s different! Let me talk to Matt, c’mon!”

“Fine, I’ll get him. Make it quick...” 

“You are 🎶 thee beeesssst! 🎶”

“Hello, this is Matt Murdock.”

“Hey Matt, it’s me, Wade.”

“Jesus Christ… Wade, what’s going on?”

“I’ve been wrongfully evicted from my home. I need you to represent me in court. I want to sue my landlord.”

“Wow, okay. That’s serious. Was your landlord moving in a family member, remodeling, or selling the property?

“No…”

“Do you have a copy of your lease?” 

“No…”

“Okay… so, where were you living?”

“...The X Mansion…”

“Professor Charles Xavier was your landlord?”

“Uhh…”

“Wade, don't waste my time. I’m surprised they let you through the front doors. I can’t help you.”  

“FUCK! C'mon man, I thought we were brothers! Bros in red? What happened to that?”

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? You know, I gotta go, Wade. Bye.”

-beep-

“This is Jen.”

“Hey Jen… it’s Wade Wilson…”

“Who?”

“You know… merc with the mouth… Deadpool…”

“Uhh, hello Wade… what’s up?”

“I need your help... I'm suing Professor Xavier.”

“What? No, absolutely not.” 

“But whyyyy??”

“Because, because, I can’t? I won't? How the hell did you get my number anyways?”

“I have my ways…”

“You know what, I don’t have time for this. I gotta go…”

“No no no no no… wait. What if I told you I just got off the phone with your little boyfriend…”

“...Who?”

“Matt… Murdock…”

“How do you know about…? He’s… he’s not my boyfriend!” 

“I know about you two and your little rendezvous...”

“Wade… are you trying to blackmail me? Actually… Whatever. No. I don’t care. I literally do not care. Also, I’m in California, so I can’t even help you anyway. Lose my number, man.”

“Oohh, is the big gal going to come out? Did I wake her up?”

“You fucking wish,”

-beep-

Chapter Text

Logan wanted to blame the pounding in his head on the sheets of rain hammering against his window, but the truth was uglier. The piercing ache that rang inside his skull wasn’t from alcohol; his healing factor never left him hungover. No, this pain came from something deeper, rawer, animalistic.

With his eyes still closed, he reached across the bed, searching for warm silk and the soft body of Ororo. Instead, his hand found only cold emptiness and his worn cotton sheets. His eyes cracked open to confirm what he already knew, he was alone. The ache flared again, sharp behind his eyes, and Logan let out a low groan, rubbing at his face with the heel of his palm.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.”

The familiar voice pulled his gaze toward the couch. Laura sat curled up with a book, slipping a candy wrapper between the pages before setting it aside. She flashed him a knowing smile and tossed her dark hair back over her shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” Logan rasped, hauling himself upright.

“Something ticked you off last night. You went a little berserky.” Laura’s lips curved, but she bit back a laugh, amused at the irony of being the one to take care of him for a change. Rising from her seat, she crossed to the kitchenette, poured herself another cup of coffee, then filled one for her father.

Logan sighed, regret tightening in his chest as he rubbed his temples. Headaches weren’t common, but when he lost himself that far down into berserker rage, the aftermath came with a price. He sat up in his bed and accepted the mug from Laura, sipped the hot, bitter coffee, and let his mind replay the scattered fragments of the day before:

Wake up. Shower beer. Prepping food with Ororo. Another few beers. Argument with the idiot Scott. Tequila shots with Ororo. A little afternoon delight with Ororo. More tequila. More beer. Barbecue. Beer, then whiskey. Fireworks. More whiskey. Wade. Wade throwing fireworks at the kids. Wade, that motherfucker… —blackout.

Logan groaned aloud, humiliation sinking into him. Alcohol rarely lowered his inhibitions, but it had greased the wheels. Scott’s smugness had already wound him tight, and Wade’s recklessness around the kids had sent him over the edge.

“Yeeaahhh…” Laura drawled, peering at him over the rim of her mug. “I dragged your ass inside. Figured I’d be the last person you’d try to fight. Also,” she smirked, “you’re heavy as shit.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, half a laugh, half a sigh– but the weight of embarrassment pressed heavily in his chest. He looked towards the window as sheets of rain continued to batter on the glass. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and his eyes flicked to the empty space beside him where Ororo should have been. “Where’s ’Ro? She alright?” he asked, trying to mask the worry that edged into his voice.

“Not gonna lie… she looked pretty upset.” Laura’s tone shifted, the humor gone. She remembered the look on Ororo’s face as everyone shuffled inside - her lips pressed downwards, her eyes wide and vacant. And then the sky itself had mirrored her grief. Laura knew those storm clouds hadn’t been a coincidence. Even an omega-level mutant could wear her emotions on her sleeve.

“I need to go see her.” Logan swung his legs out of bed and scanned the floor for clean clothes. He wrinkled his nose when he found the pile he’d worn yesterday– bloodstained, torn, dust clinging to every seam. Tugging at the fabric of his comforter, his mind started to race. Was he the reason she was upset? His berserker rage had left its mark before, but never in front of her, never like this. She’d seen him fight, sure, but had last night finally shown her too much? Was she repulsed? Turned off? Disappointed in him for losing control in front of the kids?

“I’d give her some space,” Laura replied, her voice heavy with hesitancy as her gaze met his. “She looked really upset.”

“With me ?” Logan blurted, eyes wide with suspicion. A flash of lightning lit up his bedroom, thunder cracking close behind. The storm outside gnawed at him. Was this Ororo letting her emotions spill into the sky?

“I’m not sure.” Laura’s voice trailed as she studied him. His tense shoulders, the frantic way he paced the room in his dirty jeans, searching for a clean shirt– it was obvious how shaken he was. He exhaled sharply through his nose, and she continued. “If she is upset with you… don’t go empty-handed.”

Logan shoved his feet into his dusty work boots and fumbled with the laces. Once they were tied, he shrugged on his heavy coat and slipped his truck keys into his pocket. He let out a low grunt– acknowledgment, and dismissal all in one. Laura understood, drained the last swig of her coffee, and gathered her things.

He held the door open for her, waiting. As she ducked under his arm, she gave him a trusting look.

“Be safe out there,” she murmured, glancing at the sheets of rain streaking the window. “It’s really coming down.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Laura made her way down the long hallways of the mansion and entered the kitchen. Leftovers from the night before were spread across the counters, a clear sign from the adults that no one had the energy to cook a fresh breakfast. The message was simple: grab what you want and fend for yourselves.

She built a plate of fruit and yogurt, a chocolate chip cookie, and a handful of stale nacho cheese chips before settling into the dining room table. Rogue and Gambit were already there, pressed so close together it looked as if they were sharing a chair. They picked at one plate between them– cold hot dogs, barbecue chicken, wilted cubes of watermelon, and a slice of cake. Laura gave them a nod of hello; the couple replied with a giggly, sing-song “ good morning .” Feeling like she’d stepped in on something private, Laura opened her book and dug into her yogurt.

It wasn’t hard to drown out their coos and laughter, but the mood in the room shifted the instant Jubilee entered. Laura kept her eyes down, determined not to get pulled into whatever energy Jubilee carried with her, until the loud clatter of a plate hitting the table made her look up. Jubilee hadn’t even spared her a glance; her entire glare was locked on Rogue, brows furrowed and mouth curled into a scowl.

“Did you guys have fun last night?” Jubilee’s voice dripped with sarcasm as she dropped into her seat, fists twisting tightly around the fork in her hand.

“I’m sorry?” Rogue stuttered, her face flushing with confusion at the confrontation.

“You should be.” Jubilee shook her head in judgment. “You missed my performance.”

Rogue’s eyes darted between Gambit, Laura, and back to Jubilee. Her voice came out low, careful. “What performance?”

“Exactly!” Jubilee barked. “I gave the best fireworks show of my life last night, and you weren’t even there!”

Rogue swallowed hard and gave a nervous shrug. “I mean, I’m sorry? I didn’t know it was such a big deal…”

Jubilee’s grip tightened on the fork until small red sparks began to cluster in her fist. Her breath quickened, her nose flared– an atom of anger ready to burst. “You think you’re so cool just because you can have sex with your boyfriend now, so you run off to do that and don’t care about your friends.”

Laura choked on her breakfast and whipped her gaze toward the couple. Gambit’s dark eyes went wide in shock, and Rogue’s shoulders shot up to meet her ears.

“Jubilee, that’s not true at all,” Rogue said softly, finally finding the words. “I didn’t know…” Fighting the ache in her throat, she wiped away a tear that slipped down her cheek. Confrontation had never been her strong suit. 

But Jubilee only glared harder, chest heaving with heavy breaths. She was hurt, and Rogue could see it clear as day. Guilt washed over her. She had been excited to share the details about her intimate moment with her best friend, thinking she would be happy for her, but instead, she had missed something Jubilee felt was just as important.

“Whatever, Anna. Enjoy your day-old hot dogs with your boyfriend.” Jubilee sneered, grabbing her plate. With a sharp turn of her heels, she stormed out of the dining room and down the hallway.

The heavy rain continued to hammer the mansion’s roof and windows as Rogue sat frozen. A single tear traced down her cheek.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Ororo found herself reading the same page in her book over and over, going through the motions but not comprehending a word. Her mind replayed the events from the night before, a storm of emotions brewing inside her. Her heart swelled at how much she’d fallen for Logan and the beautiful, close moments they had shared. Behind the gruff, tough-guy persona he was known for, he was genuine and real, something she treasured deeply.

But her heart also ached from the venomous words Jean had spat at her: “ Learn how to control your man, Ororo. ” The sting of it still lingered. She and Logan were adults; he wasn’t some beast she needed to leash. Yes, she admitted his actions toward Wade were harsh– but then again, she was no fan of Wade, and frankly, he might have deserved the beating. And in the end, no one came between Logan and the kids.

What unsettled Ororo most was the spark in Jean’s eye, the sneer curling across her lips when she said it. She knew Logan had a history of pining after Jean, but Jean had always been in love with Scott. Yet after this summer, Ororo had seen Logan’s devotion shift entirely to her– undivided, fierce, and tender. She dared to believe he might even love her. That thought alone filled her with pride… but it also brought her to a sharp realization: Jean was jealous.

Ororo had been wise to Jean’s persistence: the way she asked about her time alone with Logan, what they did together, even how good the sex was. At first, Ororo brushed it off as casual girl talk, but she had always been private, hesitant to share intimate details of her life. Now, looking back, she saw it clearly: the narrowed eyes, the snark in Jean’s tone. It wasn’t curiosity. It was envy.

A roll of thunder rumbled overhead, echoing the heat of irritation that rose through Ororo’s body. She set her book aside and pushed open the window, letting in the cool air. Tiny raindrops sprinkled her skin, soothing her as her thoughts sharpened.

“ Jean has Scott for God’s sake ”, Ororo thought, watching a pair of headlights glide down the road below. “ Why does she need both? ”

Ororo sighed deeply and closed her eyes. Relaxing her shoulders, she nestled into her seat and tried to steady her breath. Her mind drifted to Logan, wondering if he was alright. During his fight with Wade, he had slipped into that intense state Laura called berserk. Ororo had wanted to step in, to gather him in her arms and calm him down, to “ control him” , as Jean had so sharply suggested.

The thought made Ororo scoff and shake her head. Laura had been firm, insisting it was safer if she stayed back, that sometimes only another Wolverine could bring him down from that edge. Ororo knew she was right. Being with Logan, or with any mutant for that matter, meant accepting the caveat of their powers, no matter how destructive or overwhelming they might be. And Logan… with his wild rages, sharp claws, and the occasional pungent animalistic scent, she adored him still. She adored all of him.

Ororo sighed once more as the storm outside eased, though sheets of rain still streaked against the windows. A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts. She rose to answer it and was surprised to find Jean standing at her door.

“Hey,” Jean said softly, her arms wrapped across her chest. She gave her friend an awkward smile and glanced toward the couch. “Can I come in?”

Ororo nodded and stepped aside, though a shiver of apprehension ran through her as Jean walked past. They both settled on the couch, eyes meeting in quiet tension.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” Jean began, her voice low and tinged with remorse. “I respect boundaries and avoid listening to people’s thoughts…”

Ororo gasped, her mouth parting in shock.

Jean lowered her head, raising a hand as if to calm the reaction. “I wasn’t listening in… But I could feel your energy. I know I upset you. I needed to make things right.”

Ororo struggled to find the words, unsettled by how close her friend had come to crossing a line. Still, she knew it was part of Jean’s power and something that, unfortunately, came with the territory.

“I’m sorry for the awful things I said last night,” Jean continued, guilt heavy in her voice. “Even with everything going on, it wasn’t okay for me to speak to you that way.” She finally lifted her gaze, waiting for a response.

“Thank you,” Ororo said as she took a steadying breath. She wasn’t sure how much of her private thoughts Jean had picked up, and she hoped not all of them. Licking her bottom lip, she continued, her eyes locking with her friend’s.

“But Jean,” Ororo said firmly, “you have a perfect life with Scott. He loves you more than anything. You two are soulmates.”

Jean gave a nervous smile and nodded her head in agreement. She wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Ororo’s heart twisted as she picked her next words carefully, as she knew they would sting.

“You’ve kept Logan tethered to you for years.” Ororo continued. “And with Scott in the picture, Logan was always second best. But, in the end, I know you would never choose Logan. Ever.”

Jean swallowed hard as tears welled in her eyes. Ororo’s pulse quickened, and the rain outside began to fall harder against the windows.

“Even if you love him in some sort of caring-possessive way,” Ororo pressed, her voice unwavering, “I can give Logan what you can’t. I can give him something you won't. And you never will.”

Tears spilled down Jean’s face as the truth hit her at last. She sniffled, fumbling for a tissue. Ororo’s chest softened at the sight– pity mixed with resolve. Jean would have to move on and trust that Logan’s heart was in good hands.

“Stay as long as you need, Jean,” Ororo said gently as she rose. She pulled a raincoat from its hook by the door and slipped it on. “I need some air.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As soon as Jubilee exited the dining room, Rogue was scooped up in Gambit’s arms.

“Oh, babe,” Gambit cooed, comforting his girlfriend as he held her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head. A look of hurt was painted across his face while Rogue cried softly. She tried not to draw attention to herself, but the broken whimpers were impossible for Laura to miss.

“I thought she was happy for us?” Rogue sniffled through her tears, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She looked up at Gambit, who gave only a disappointed shrug. He was just as confused as she was.

Laura wasn’t the best with words or big feelings in general. She was just as surprised by Jubilee’s actions and struggled to understand the sudden outburst. Her thoughts drifted back to the morning before, when Jubilee had been thrilled about the news of Rogue’s relationship finally moving intimately. But last night had been Jubilee’s moment to shine, showing off her pyrotechnic powers under the summer night sky, and her closest friend hadn’t been there to see it.

“You guys didn’t miss her performance on purpose, right?” Laura asked carefully.

“Of course not!” Rogue choked back more tears. “It… it just seemed like… a good time… since everyone was outside and we had the house to ourselves...”

Laura winced at the clear implication of what the couple got up to. She sighed, tucking her book under her arm as she rose from her seat. “I’m going to check on her. Maybe I can talk to her…”

Gambit nodded in approval, and Laura headed off down the hall.

—

Laura didn’t bother knocking on Jubilee’s door. She barged in to find Jubilee at her desk, shoveling leftovers into her mouth while scrolling through her phone. Jubilee shot her an annoyed look but said nothing.

“I thought you were happy for them?” Laura cut straight to the point, wanting to get this petty drama over with.

“Fuck off, Laura.” Jubilee snapped with her mouth full, avoiding eye contact. She turned her attention back to her phone, letting the tinny audio of short videos blare into the air.

“Hey! Don’t be rude.” Laura crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, her eyes fixed on Jubilee. But Jubilee kept ignoring her, scrolling with exaggerated nonchalance.

The silence pressed heavily between them until Jubilee finally tossed her phone facedown on the desk. She glared up at Laura, her voice sharp.

“Get the hell out of my room before I throw a sparkler up your ass.” Her fists clenched, and tiny sparks began to cluster between her fingers.

Laura didn’t flinch. She wasn’t scared of Jubilee, not even a little. Without moving from her spot, she extended her claws with a clean snikt . Jubilee recoiled at the sight of the blades, leaning back in her chair. Her breath quickened as she exhaled through her nose, equal parts frustrated and defeated. She wasn’t actually going to fight Laura, and she knew she wouldn’t win anyway.

“Girl, what the hell is your problem? I thought you were excited for Rogue?” Laura’s claws slid back into place as she leaned a hip against Jubilee’s desk, her stare unyielding.

“I am ,” Jubilee whined, shifting in her chair.

“So why’d you blow up in her face this morning? That was so uncalled for…”

Jubilee’s stomach lurched at Laura’s bluntness. She bit the inside of her cheek, lips twitching from one side to the other. Confrontation only made her more headstrong, and she wasn’t about to admit what was really bothering her. Deep down, she knew her outburst came from something else entirely, but that was a reason she didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“She missed my performance. I told you that already.” Jubilee shook her head stubbornly, lifting a snarky eyebrow in challenge.

Laura rolled her eyes. She saw straight through the act. Jubilee had shown off her pyrotechnics to Rogue and the others more than once; it wasn’t about missing one fireworks display. No, this was about something deeper. The girls had been inseparable, and Laura had been grateful they let her into their little circle this summer. But now that a boy had entered the picture… Well, even the best of friends got jealous.

Tired of the emotional theater, Laura cut straight to the point. “Are you upset that she’s spending more time with Gambit?”

A hot shiver rushed over Jubilee’s skin. Laura had gone right for the jugular, and it stung. She huffed, bracing herself against the directness. “I’m fine with them together,” she said, rolling her head back in defeat. “I just didn’t think she’d pick him over me.”

Laura groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Jubilee sat in silence as she collected herself. “ Why is everyone in this house so goddamn dramatic? ” she muttered, watching raindrops race each other down the windowpane.

“Jubes,” Laura turned back to her. “Rogue didn’t pick him over you. And she didn’t skip your performance on purpose. The house was empty, they were horny, and… yeah.” Her voice trailed off with a pointed gesture that said everything without spelling it out. “She’s still your friend, even while she’s with Gambit.”

“I’m such an asshole.” Jubilee pulled her knees to her chest, her sigh morphing into a throaty groan.

Laura softened. She knew how much Jubilee cared about Rogue, and how hard it was watching a best friend’s priorities shift. But she’d also seen the look on Rogue’s face after Jubilee’s outburst– it had cut deep. If this tension festered, the rest of the summer would be nothing but eggshells.

“Look,” Laura said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you write her a note? Say sorry. Tell her how you really feel.”

Jubilee managed a small smile and nodded in agreement.

 ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Logan cranked his windshield wipers faster, but the rain only seemed to fall harder. Lightning split across the sky, briefly helping his headlights carve a clearer path through the curtain of water. Heavy clouds hung low, pressing the world into darkness. His mind spun as he gripped the wheel, running through a million things he could say to Ororo– apologies, explanations, pleas, but none of them felt like enough.

He was ashamed she’d seen him lose control in front of the students. That feral side of him, the part that clawed and raged, wasn’t something he could hide forever. He was an animal. The Wolverine. And deep down, he wasn’t sure how much he could change, or even if he wanted to. But he did know one thing: he wanted to keep her in his life. He would beg for forgiveness if he had to.

At a red light, his eyes slid toward the bouquet on the passenger seat. Roses, wrapped carefully in crinkling cellophane– red, with a single white bloom tucked among them. Love. Passion. Forgiveness. At least, that’s what the florist had told him. Logan had rolled his eyes at the explanation, but the man insisted all women know. Against his better judgment, Logan had handed over the cash.

The light turned green. Another bolt of lightning seared the sky, and Logan’s chest tightened. Was this Ororo’s storm? Was she hurting because of him? He hadn’t even texted her that morning, following Laura’s advice to give her space. What if that silence had only made things worse? He clenched his jaw and made the final turn toward the mansion’s drive.

When did the Wolverine get so damn soft?

The truck tires crunched over gravel as he slowed, but then his heart lurched– there was a figure out in the rain, moving slowly across the mansion grounds. Even through the sheets of water, he knew exactly who it was. He slammed the gear into park, grabbed the roses, and bolted from the cab.

“Ororo!” he called, rain striking his face and soaking his coat as he sprinted toward her. She turned, startled, her eyes glowing faintly with recognition when she saw him. Relief punched him in the chest.

He thrust the bouquet toward her, clumsy and desperate. She accepted them with her usual grace, her soft smile warming him even through the storm.

“Oh, Logan… what are these for?” she asked, her voice gentle. Her hood shielded her face from the downpour, though her coat, deep blue and heavy with water, clung damp against her frame.

“Ororo, I… I want to say sorry.” His voice was loud but unsteady, trembling at the edges. “You know what they say about me: I’m the best there is at what I do. But what I do isn’t very nice… and I want to change. I do. But it’s also who I am.”

Rain poured steadily from the dark clouds above as the nearby trees swayed in a gentle gust of wind. The warm glow of the mansion’s windows spilled across the grounds, a quiet reminder that everyone was inside, everyone except them.

Ororo moved closer and narrowed her eyes, confusion flickering across her face. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, yesterday– I went berserk on Wade, and lost it in front of the kids.” Spouts of steam rose from Logan’s breath as he panted, disbelief weighing heavily in his chest. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re upset with me.”

“Logan, I’m not upset with you.” Ororo’s voice was firm, but there was comfort in it. Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. He opened his mouth to respond, but she didn’t let him. “I can’t change you. I don't want to. It’s who you are. But you’ve also shown me your softer side. I know who you are deep inside.”

Ororo lifted her hand and placed her long, delicate fingers against his cheek. Her skin was cool against his warmth, and the tension in his shoulders eased at her touch. Her light eyes seemed to glow in the shadowy darkness of the storm, lips parting into a small, comforting smile. She was a beacon in his storm.

“Laura said you were upset,” Logan murmured, covering her hand with his own and holding it firmly. His eyes glanced towards the falling rain.

“Yes, but it was because of Jean.” She sighed, turning her gaze aside with a short, almost self-conscious chuckle. A gust of wind swept over them, tousling Logan’s damp hair. “It was a tough conversation, but one that needed to be had.”

Logan tugged gently at her hand, urging her to meet his eyes again. His expression was serious. “Is everything alright? What happened?”

“I know about the history you two have,” she said steadily, “and I just needed to clear the air with her.”

Logan’s heart lurched. “You know there’s nothing between us!” The words snapped out sharper than he intended, but Ororo didn’t flinch. Instead, her gaze fell to the bouquet of roses resting in the crook of her arm, rain beading on the petals like scattered pearls.

“I know, Logan. I know.” Her eyes lifted back to his, steady and soft. “I told her to let you go.”

He exhaled in relief, tipping his head back toward the sky. The raindrops were lighter now, the storm beginning to lose its weight. A breeze brushed past his ear, carrying the sense of a clearing night. His chest eased as his stress ebbed with the storm.

It had only been weeks, but his feelings for Ororo burned deeper than anything he’d ever held for Jean. That had always been one-sided; with Ororo, it was real. They were a couple, a team, partners. Wrapping his arm firmly around her waist, Logan drew her close. Even through rain-soaked clothes, he could feel the warmth between them. 

“’Ro,” he whispered, voice rough but sure. “I don’t want anyone else. Only you. I love you.”

Words weren’t needed to show how much she agreed. Their lips found each other instantly, kissing softly, full of adoration and quiet contentment. It felt natural– his lips against hers, their breaths falling into perfect rhythm. The cool rain against their warm skin washed away any past guilt or history. It was a new beginning for them both. Logan held her close, fingers pressing into her side as if to keep her anchored to him, though she had no intention of leaving.

A low rumble of thunder rolled in the distance, and Logan snickered against her mouth between kisses. “Was that you?”

“Yes,” she replied with a smile, her teeth grazing his lips as she spoke. “It means I love you too.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (♡) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

As the storm passed, the setting sun spilled across the sky in a gorgeous wash of reds and oranges, vivid pinks, and streaks of soft blue. The energy in the mansion had calmed, as if the storm had washed away all lingering stresses and emotions. A new week was just around the corner, and everyone seemed ready to begin again.

Jubilee strolled down the hallway with an envelope in hand, addressed to her friend Rogue. Inside, she had poured out her feelings, rewriting them several times until the words felt right. She told Rogue how happy she truly was for her and Gambit – that they were soulmates, even if they were still teenagers and the word was still new. There was something undeniable between them. She apologized for her outburst, admitted to the jealousy that sparked it, and asked for forgiveness, decorating the page with a million little hearts. Swallowing her nerves, she crouched to slip the envelope under Rogue’s dorm room door.

Just then, Jean passed by, also holding an envelope, hers addressed to Storm. She, too, had written her heart out, acknowledging that Ororo had been right: it was time to let Logan go. She shared how much she cherished Ororo’s friendship and how excited she was for her new relationship. She apologized for eavesdropping, for letting her jealousy slip into venom, but most importantly, she promised to move forward. To let him go, once and for all.

As Jean tucked the envelope into the crack of Ororo’s door, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. At the end of the hall, Scott stood waiting, his smile wide as he waved her over.

“Babe! The rain stopped!” he said warmly, wrapping an arm around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Want to go for a walk?”

She nodded, her smile gentle, and placed a soft kiss against his lips.

Chapter Text

Gambit ran his fingers through Rogue’s hair, his touch soft and careful so he wouldn’t wake her. She was beautiful when she slept, especially with her head resting on his chest. Anna Marie breathed gently through her nose, eyelids closed, lips full and plush. Her arm draped across his torso, the heavy, power-suppressant bracelet on her wrist glowing faintly purple. Who knew a mutant that carried such dangerous power looked as gentle as an angel in his arms?

Gambit sighed contentedly and closed his eyes. Morning sunlight crept past the edges of the dark curtains, streaking across his dorm room. Relishing the warmth of his bed with his girl in his arms, he wished he had the power to freeze time and savor this moment forever.

Just as he began to drift back into sleep, a loud crack split the air, followed by a puff of blue smoke filling the room.

“The carnival is in town!” Kurt yelped, bouncing with excitement, his limbs stretched wide like a starfish mid-leap. “Let’s go to the carnival!!”

Rogue jolted awake, clutching the blanket against her bare skin. Her eyes went wide as she sputtered in disbelief. “K–Kurt?! What the hell are you doin’?”

“Carnival!” Kurt spun on one foot, finishing a perfect pirouette with an arm extended. “Let’s go! Tonight!”

Holding the blanket tight around themselves, the young couple exchanged a glance and a shrug. They’d spent most of their summer on the mansion’s property, and a night filled with rides, deep-fried snacks, and carnival games actually sounded like a lot of fun.

“Sure, sugah,” Rogue said with a sleepy smile. “But you gotta find an adult who can drive us!”

Kurt’s grin turned devilish, and before they could blink, he disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.

“If he asks Logan,” Gambit chuckled, pulling Rogue close and kissing her on the forehead. “I hope he knocks.”

—

Outside Storm’s apartment suite, the bamf of Kurt’s teleportation echoed softly off the mansion’s walls. He froze, eyes flicking left and right to make sure he hadn’t disturbed any of the other residents. Once he was certain the hall was empty, he brushed the front of his shirt as if to make himself more presentable and knocked softly on Storm’s door.

He heard low voices and the shuffle of feet on the other side. For some reason, his stomach twisted with nerves. It had been a while since he spoke to an instructor one-on-one. The door opened just a few inches, revealing Storm’s icy-blue gaze meeting his bright yellow eyes.

“Is everything alright, Kurt?” Her voice was quiet and edged with concern. One elegant hand gripped the doorframe, but her body stayed behind it for privacy– she was wearing a strappy silk nightgown and a matching silk bonnet over her hair.

“Yes,” Kurt said quickly, giving a respectful nod. “So sorry to bother you. Is Logan here?”

Storm’s cheeks flushed faintly as her eyes flicked across the room. She nodded, then closed the door a little more. A deep grunt followed by the thump of bare feet hitting the floor carried through, then the sound of someone shuffling toward the door.

Only wearing a pair of cotton boxers, Logan cracked the door open wider than Storm had, but kept his body angled to block any view inside the apartment. Kurt immediately averted his eyes out of respect.

“Elf, what is it?” Logan gruffed, voice low and rough with sleep, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“I was wondering if you could take us to the carnival tonight…” Kurt’s voice trailed off, eyes darting from Logan to the floor, realizing too late that this might not be the best moment to ask.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head fall back with a groan. “You couldn’t wait until breakfast to ask me? You had to wake me up?”

“Sorry, sir,” Kurt muttered, staring at his feet in embarrassment.

“It’s fine. Sure, we can go.” Logan exhaled, resigned.

Kurt’s face lit up. He mouthed thank you and clasped his hands together with delight.

“Also…” Logan leaned a little farther out of the doorframe, lowering his voice. “How’d you know I was in here?”

Kurt gave a cheeky wink. “Oh, everyone knows about you two.” 

Logan’s brows shot up in surprise as he watched the blue elf turn and skip down the empty hallway.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── (X) ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

An array of multicolored lights strung across festival booths and carnival rides, flashing and glowing against the dark summer sky. The annual summer carnival was in full swing, its booths lining the perimeter of the open dirt field, each one connected by glistening strings of bulbs. Locals sold handmade goods, sweet and savory treats, and hosted games for eager players. 

In the center of the bustling fairground rose the rides: a jerky tilt-a-whirl, a slow-turning carousel, a giant swinging pendulum, tall slippery slides, a hokey haunted house, and, towering over it all, an impressive Ferris wheel. Laughter and cheers rolled through the crowd while a live band played their rendition of familiar tunes. The energy was electric, the air thick with fried-dough sweetness, and the night was still very young.

Laura, Jubilee, and Rogue linked arms and walked in perfect step, their eyes darting from booth to booth as they cooed over every trinket, outfit, and novelty on display. Kurt and Gambit trailed close behind, exchanging amused glances at every squeal of admiration.

“I’m going to go broke if Rogue wants one of everything,” Gambit muttered with a worried smile.

A few paces back, Ororo, Logan, Jean, and Scott strolled together, taking in the carnival through the teens’ eyes. For a moment, they let themselves feel what they rarely could: fun, freedom, and anonymity in the open air. Ororo’s fingers slipped into Logan’s, giving his calloused hand a loving squeeze.

“Remy!” Rogue squealed suddenly, bringing everyone to a halt. She gasped and thrust her finger toward a striped game booth. Hanging from the rafters was an enormous teddy bear plush, its stitched eyes practically begging to be taken home. “I want that one!”

The booth owner flashed the mutants a cheeky grin as he idly tossed a baseball from hand to hand. Behind him stood four narrow pillars stacked high with chipped milk bottles. All you had to do was knock them down to win the prize… but was it really that easy? Gambit dug into his pocket for his wallet and stepped forward, sliding a few crumpled bills across the counter.

“Ooh, Scott, you should try!” Jean called, her brows raised in a playful challenge. “I bet you can knock them all down in one hit!” 

Scott smirked, gave his wife a quick kiss, and joined Gambit at the booth.

The flicker of competition lit a fire in Logan. He couldn’t stand by and let a kid, let alone his biggest rival, show him up. Releasing Ororo’s hand, he turned to her with a confident grin. “I’ll win you that bear,” he promised. Before she could respond, he was already peeling bills from his wallet and sliding them to the booth owner. Ororo shook her head in endearing annoyance and crossed her arms across her chest.

Kurt, bouncing on his toes, joined in on the excitement. He wasn’t especially competitive, but he loved a good game. Nudging Gambit with his elbow, he grinned and reached for a few borrowed dollars.

“No powers!” Jean warned with a playful wink. 

The mutant men shot Jean a collective look of annoyance before settling into their stances at the booth. Each prepared for the challenge in his own way– tossing the baseball in the air to feel its weight, adjusting his footing for leverage, even sizing up the way the milk bottles stacked against each other.

“Who do you think’s gonna win?” Laura scoffed at the overblown display of manliness.

“My Remy, I hope!” Rogue clapped, cheering on her boyfriend. Gambit flashed her a grin and a cheeky wink in return.

The owner blew his whistle, and the men hurled their baseballs at the towers of milk bottles. Every ball whizzed by or clanged off without toppling them. Their eyes went wide, their shoulders slumped, and they huffed in exasperation, except Kurt, who clapped his hands with joy.

“Let’s do it again!” he said, nodding eagerly and nudging Gambit for more cash. Logan grunted, already slapping another few bills onto the counter.

The booth owner hid a grin; he was going to make a fortune off these guys. Collecting another round of payments, he handed out more baseballs. Logan’s narrowed eyes locked on Scott’s ruby glasses as his jaw tightened. The whistle blew again, and another volley of baseballs sailed across the booth.

The sharp crash echoed as bottles clattered to the floor– Kurt had done it. He stood blinking at the stand as everyone’s eyes swung toward him.

“Congrats, man.” The owner unhooked a giant teddy bear from the rafters and handed it over. “You won the grand prize!”

Kurt beamed, wrapping his arms around the plush nearly his own size. Rogue laughed with delight and hugged them both, congratulating her friend.

A pang of friendly jealousy pinched at Gambit. He wanted to win something for his girl, and he would go broke trying. He pressed more money into the owner’s hand, grabbed a baseball, and this time, emotion got the better of him. As he wound up, the ball glowed faintly pink. On impact, the milk bottles exploded.

“You’ve got one hell of an arm, kid!” the owner barked, hands on his hips. “Not sure how you did that, but pick out whatever you want!”

Gambit slipped an arm around Rogue and kissed her cheek. He’d won for her at last, so he nodded toward a soft pink teddy bear among the smaller prizes. The owner handed it over, and Rogue pressed it to her chest.

“Anything for you, chérire,” Gambit murmured.

“What do you think about these two?” Jean nudged Ororo with a friendly elbow and tilted her head toward the last two men at the booth.

Ororo rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Whatever keeps them from tearing or blasting each other up,” she laughed.

Logan and Scott went for another round, quickly burning through the cash in their wallets. A third round became a fourth, then a fifth and sixth. The booth owner grinned with every payment, but the men were too caught up in their rivalry to notice they were being scammed. The teens had already wandered off to find their next thrill, leaving Ororo and Jean standing off to the side, bored with the show.

“Hungry?” Ororo asked.

“Lemonade and a corn dog?” Jean’s eyes lit with sudden excitement. Ororo nodded, and the two women linked arms and headed off, leaving their men behind.

—

With her hands planted on her hips, Laura stood before the haunted house wearing a devilish smile. The old building creaked and moaned, its recorded screams echoing out onto the midway. Corny Halloween decorations dangled from the eaves, “Keep Out” signs hung crookedly, and a trail of fake blood oozed from a cracked window. At the entrance, a man in a dark hood swayed and beckoned, silently waving at guests to enter.

Rogue and Jubilee playfully yelped as Laura crept toward them, claws partially unsheathed, doing a terrible impression of a slasher-movie villain.

“Let’s go inside,” Laura growled in a low, mock-creepy voice, hovering her claws just above her friends. Jubilee tried to back away, but Laura hooked an arm around her shoulder. “C’mon, stop being a baby.”

“Ya girls go on in, I’ll stay out here. I don’t do dat scary stuff,” Gambit said, throwing his hands up in protest.

Laura led the way to the entrance, and Rogue gave her boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek before tugging Jubilee along after her. Not wanting to miss out, Kurt trailed behind, clutching his giant teddy bear in his arms like a shield. Gambit waved as the man in the dark hood ushered them inside. 

When the door swung shut behind them, the only light came from a glowing EXIT sign across the room. Even though the haunted house was meant for cheap thrills, the mutants instinctively slipped into the alertness they’d learned in the Danger Room. Rogue scanned the shadows while Laura inhaled deeply; the air smelled like plastic props, fog machine fluid, and sweaty costumes.

“Welcome to the scariest night of your life…” a hooded worker intoned, his “spooky” voice wobbling somewhere between silly and rehearsed. “Please follow me into the dungeon…”

Laura rolled her eyes at the theatrics but followed the man, her friends close behind. The next chamber had been dressed like a medieval dungeon, fake chains dangling from the ceiling and rubber skeletons slumped behind bars. As soon as they all stepped in, the door behind them slammed shut with an echoing bang.

“Here lies our dungeon…” the guide crooned, swaying his body back and forth. “Be quick and try to escape… if not, our dungeon keeper will lock you up!” He gestured grandly toward another actor stepping from the corner, a “grim reaper” in a dollar-store cloak, wielding a plastic scythe.

Rogue, Jubilee, and Kurt squealed at the jump scare, but Laura burst out laughing. The dungeon keeper lunged clumsily at them, swinging wide to make sure his scythe missed by inches. Rogue and Jubilee leapt backward, but Kurt froze, clutching his giant teddy bear. A second later, he vanished in a puff of blue smoke.

Outside the haunted house, Kurt reappeared in front of Gambit, still hugging the plush to his chest. 

“It was too much for me,” he admitted with a nervous laugh. Gambit chuckled and gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. 

The girls ducked under the dungeon keeper’s clumsy swing and hustled through the next door. Inside, the haunted house had been transformed into a graveyard scene: plastic grass underfoot, foam tombstones leaning at odd angles, and fog-machine mist curling low across the floor. A fake full moon glowed weakly overhead, casting long, crooked shadows across the set. As soon as they entered, the door behind them slammed shut again.

“We are now in the graveyard of the undead…” the host intoned, still cackling through his script. “Try not to wake them as you escape… they’re quite hungry…”

Right on cue, “zombies” rose from behind the tombstones, dragging their feet toward the girls. The three shrieked in a mix of joy and terror, clinging to one another as they laughed and dodged, pulling each other this way and that to find the next exit.

Then the actors went in for the scare. One zombie grabbed Jubilee’s ankle; another clutched Laura’s elbow. They both screamed, kicking and twisting to break free. Out of nowhere, a third zombie actor placed a hand squarely on the back of Rogue’s bare neck.

She gasped, knowing instantly what would happen. Before she could stop it, the actor’s knees buckled, and they collapsed unconscious onto the fake grass, drained by her touch.

“Sorry!” Rogue blurted, horror flashing across her face as she bolted toward the exit door. Laura and Jubilee exchanged wide-eyed looks and then sprinted after her, shoving through to the next room.

The final room was dressed as the fiery pits of hell. Cardboard flames painted in angry reds and oranges lined the walls, while warm bulbs flickered to give the illusion of heat. Crackling fire played from hidden speakers, layered with prerecorded moans and groans echoing off the blackened ceiling.

In the center of the room stood a towering figure in long red robes with oversized devil horns perched on its head. The face was hidden behind a mask, but the figure raised a long plastic pitchfork and aimed it at the girls.

“Welcome to hell!” the voice boomed. “Let’s see you escape this time!”

The devil thrust the pitchfork toward them, close enough to make Jubilee flinch as it nearly grazed her face. Laura’s protective instincts kicked in instantly. With a metallic SNIKT she unsheathed her claws, throwing one arm across her friends. The plastic pitchfork snapped apart on contact, clattering to the floor in several jagged pieces.

“Hey! No weapons!” the devil broke character, his voice switching to that of an irritated young man. “You guys need to leave. Security!”

The three erupted into laughter, clutching one another as they bolted toward the glowing EXIT sign. Nearly tripping over each other in their rush, they shoved the door open and burst out into the cool night air. Gambit, Kurt, and Kurt’s large teddy bear met them at the exit, each with a funnel cake in hand. 

“Was it scary?” Gambit asked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he pulled Rogue into a hug. She nestled into the crook of his arm and tore off a piece of the funnel cake.

“Nah, we’ve seen scarier things in the Danger Room!” Jubilee laughed, reaching over to pinch a bite of Kurt’s funnel cake. He pulled it away protectively, powdered sugar dusting off into the air. Her brows knitted, but he only shook his head, lips pressed into a pout made even more dramatic by the white sugar outlining his blue mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, Kurt,” Gambit teased, knocking his shoulder into his friend. “Yuh already had two. Share with the girls!”

“Ah, fine,” Kurt rolled his eyes and handed over the half-eaten funnel cake. “It reminds me of striebele back home.” 

Laura and Jubilee dug into the sweet treat, licking their fingers clean of powdered sugar and sticky strawberry jam. The funnel cake quickly disappeared, and Laura dusted her fingers off on her jeans. “Alright, enough food. Let’s go on another ride,” she said, squinting toward the tilt-a-whirl and already scanning the line.

“Oh my god, yes!” Jubilee yelled, licking a smudge of strawberry jam from her thumb. 

—

In the long, winding line for food, Ororo and Jean spotted the teens weaving through the crowd toward the rides. The women watched them fondly, grateful the kids had the chance to live their lives to the fullest as mutants– an experience neither of them ever had.

“I’m happy for them,” Jean said as she stepped forward with the line. “We were too busy running and figuring out our powers, while also trying to survive our teen years? Oof.”

Ororo smirked and nodded in agreement. “I was on the streets of Cairo, pickpocketing so I could buy a meal. May they never have to experience the troubles we’ve been through.”

Jean wrapped an arm around Ororo’s shoulder and gave her a warm squeeze. It had been only a few days since their intense heart-to-heart, and even though the wounds from that conversation were still fresh, at least they were healing. Ororo dropped her head against Jean’s shoulder as the two of them shuffled another step forward in line.

Their tender moment was abruptly interrupted as someone suddenly bumped into both women from behind. Ororo and Jean stumbled forward but never lost their footing, and quickly turned back to find a man on all fours.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the man slurred as he scrambled to his feet. His eyes went wide as he took in the women in front of him. “Well now… aren’t you two gorgeous?”

Ororo and Jean exchanged a curt smile and immediately turned away, not interested in engaging with a drunk stranger.

“Hey, is this a buy-one-get-one kind of situation?” the man crooned, brushing dirt from his pants and shirt. “I wanna take you both home!”

The women stood shoulder to shoulder, ignoring him. Only a few people remained ahead of them in line, and the smell of freshly fried corn dogs was far more appealing.

“Ay!” the man barked, his jaw slack with drunkenness. “I’m talkin’ to you!”

He swung his arm toward Ororo to get her attention and clamped a hand down on her shoulder. Ororo yelped in surprise, twisting away to loosen his grip. Acting instantly, Jean extended both hands and shoved him back with a flicker of telekinetic force. The man toppled onto his back, eyes wide.

Jean stepped out of line and loomed over him. “You will leave us alone and go home,” she muttered, fingers pressed lightly to her temple. As if suddenly sobered, the man scrambled to his feet and turned toward the carnival’s exit without another word.

“Thank you,” Ororo laughed as Jean slipped back into line beside her. The carnival was so crowded and noisy that hardly anyone even noticed the scuffle. Jean reached out, touching the spot where the man’s hand had gripped Ororo’s shoulder, and gave it a reassuring pat.

“Sentinels or creepy men,” Jean said with a small smile, “I’ll always protect you.”

—

At the heart of the carnival, Jean and Ororo settled at a worn wooden picnic table, taking bites of their corn dogs and sipping sweet lemonade. The scent of fried dough and powdered sugar drifted past on the summer breeze, blending with the distant hum of laughter and the creak of rides overhead. For a moment, it felt like old times– just the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, catching up between bites, their silence as comfortable as their smiles while they watched the swirl of people passing by.

In the sea of bodies, Jean caught sight of Logan and Scott ambling through the crowd. She lifted a hand in a casual wave; Scott nodded back. Both men wore the same sheepish expression and slumped shoulders, and as they drew closer, the reason became obvious: each clutched a small, plush teddy bear like an oversized consolation prize.

“Looks like you finally won,” Jean teased, rising to her feet. She looped her arms around Scott’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Was it worth it?”

Scott groaned and handed her the plush without a word.

Logan offered Ororo a half smile of embarrassment. He’d let his competitive streak get the better of him and, after draining every dollar in his wallet, had finally earned a prize.

“Oh, Logan.” Ororo brushed her fingers over the bear’s fur, her voice warm. “I appreciate the fight to win me something, but why don’t you give this to someone who’ll treasure it even more?”

Logan tilted his head, puzzled, until Ororo raised her brows and pointed with a subtle tilt of her chin. Just behind them, the teen mutants wove their way through the crowd, all laughter and easy smiles. Logan’s heart lurched when he spotted Laura in the middle of the pack, arms slung behind her friends, laughing without a care in the world. She looked exactly how he’d hoped she would— one of the gang.

As soon as she was in arm's distance, he extended the bear toward her.

“Aww,” Laura cooed, clutching it to her chest. “Thanks, Dad.”

Logan’s heart skipped. Being called “Dad” always felt like the first time, and he knew that feeling would never get old. He pulled Laura into his arms and held her tightly.

Laura sighed with contentment as she returned the hug. In the strength of his grip, she felt how much he loved and cared for her. Over the summer, they had grown closer, shedding the withdrawn, guarded facades they both carried as Wolverines. If anyone truly understood her, it was him. She eased back, clutching the teddy bear to her chest. For a heartbeat, their eyes met; she smiled toward Logan, and he returned the gesture with quiet warmth.

“Kurt threw up!” Jubilee’s voice cut through the tender moment, snapping everyone’s attention toward the elf. With his giant teddy bear in his arms, he only shrugged, giving them a weak, sheepish smile.

“Oh, you poor thing. Are you alright?” Ororo asked, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yes!” Kurt chirped, his grin widening. “Because today was the best day ever!”

Everyone’s laughter blended with the sounds of the carnival, their spirits rising with the lights that twinkled overhead. For tonight, there were no villains, no missions, no worries–  just friends under a summer sky.