Logan Howlett X Oc - Tumblr Posts
i was wondering if you could write some dad!logan with a reader whos lauras teacher and maybe laura talks to him about her teacher. thank you!!!!
dad!logan x teacher!reader
laura was a bright student; one of the brightest in the entire class but there was a small behavioral issue. the young girl would often beat up any student who stole her supplies or made her angry. one of the only people who could calm her down was you; her favorite teacher.
"how was school, kid?" logan asked laura when she walked into the house.
"fine," she answered.
"no more fightin'?" he arched a stern brow at the girl who had been sent home with notes regarding her classroom behavior.
"no." laura glares then explains how you have helped her control her anger.
this wasn't the first time laura had rambled on about you. the young girl's eyes lit up as she told her dad about the pretty young teacher and everything she taught her that day. logan had never met you, the closest being the letters laura brought home to him, on colorful decorative stationery and the one time he saw you through the classroom window when he dropped laura off.
logan thought you were gorgeous even with stray pencils hold up your hair and marker stains on your palms. too pretty to give a man like him the time of day. laura compared you to someone out of a fairytale book.
you seemed to be a good influence on laura so logan had no concerns or complaints. his daughter would often emphasize that there was no ring on your finger either. logan didn't bother entertaining the idea of laura setting him up with her twenty-something year old teacher. instead, he stuck to listening to all of her stories about you and your class.
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every saturday morning, you stuck to the same routine; go to your favorite coffee shop and work on next weeks lesson plan then head to the grocery store. it wasn't much but it kept you busy.
as you stroll through the aisles and check items off of your list, a pair of small feet some running your way. a man is heard angrily calling after the child clinging to you.
"hello, sweet girl!" you smile down at laura. "what are you doing here this early?"
before she could answer, a tall older gentlemen approach's you and a swarm of butterflies threaten to fall loose from your mouth. was this laura's father? this -to put it simply- hot man dressed in jeans and a flannel.
logan's mouth opened to scold his daughter but you stop him.
"you must be, mr. howlett?"
your smile was deadly, logan thought to himself. he couldn't stop staring at your soft features. logan had never been left this speechless, all he could do was nod.
luckily for both of you, laura did all the introducing. you tell him how amazing of a kid she is and all the accomplishments she's reached in your classroom. logan was only half listening, a bit too occupied with the way your lips moved as you spoke. he finally managed to spit out a 'thank you' for helping laura.
the young girl wasn't stupid, even she could see that something was happening between the two of you. if she had it her way, you would be coming over to join them for dinner. logan promised her hamburgers tonight.
"well, i should let the two of you continue your shopping." you say politely, not wanting your gawking at her father become anymore noticeable. "see you on monday, laura."
you barely moved three steps before you heard a shuffle and logan stopped you. unbeknownst to you, laura gave him a swift kick in the leg. she wasn't going to let him blow this for her.
"y-you should join us for dinner sometime." he stutters. what happened to the smooth ladies man he once was? had age really caught up to him already?
you hesitate to answer. of course you wanted to. it's been so long since a kind, attractive man has asked you to dinner but this would definitely come off as unprofessional.
"as a thank you." he adds, hoping that will help swayed you.
the moment you look down at laura's wide smile, awaiting your answer; you knew you would cave.
"I would love to."
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a/n: might need to do a part two because i love this concept <3
Okay, so I’ve been wanting to write a a Logan x OC fanfic with the OC as a professor at Charles school and I wrote the first chapter (really short cause its just sort of a bit of background) and I thought I’d post it here just to see how people would receive it!
(Also this is set when she’s about fifteen, the actual first chapter is going to be a major time jump, so through the fic she’ll be about 30)
Warnings: runaway teen (?), sleeping in a diner, she thinks Charles is kinda weird, not proof read lmao, nothing else I don’t think?
———————
She woke up cold. Her lashes flutter against her cheeks, sore with sleep. It was too frigid in the small diner, the heater did little in the winter and they had put her right by the door that let in a breeze every time it swung open; biting her skin. Her own attire wasn’t much help either, she thought.
The too-big sweatshirt hanging off her shoulders wasn’t thick enough to keep her warmer than her own body heat could, and her jeans were still wet from falling into the snow outside of the empty diner. The only warmth she had was from the thick leather boots on her feet that were two sizes too big.
The heavy thrill of hail outside the small diner window was a heavy patter in her ear drums. The bright beaming twenty-four hour sign hummed against the window, the fluorescent light flickering harsh blue and red light.
She pressed her open palm to the side of her cheek, eyes looming over the other patrons. Most of the diner was vacant, the waitresses bide behind the counters and the heavy steam of coffee burned in the air. She felt hunger nestle in the pit of her empty stomach, if she had enough shoved away in her rucksack she could get pancakes, if she had enough energy she wouldn’t need to pay for them at all. But she had a feeling she would.
She pushed against the table, stretching carefully, ignoring the always present ache in her limbs. Her fingers pushed against her scalp, feeling against her boyish cut hair.
It was just getting long enough for the curls to furl beside her ear, but it still bristled against her fingers. It made people stare less the more it grew, and she was thankful. Soon enough she’d attract even less attention.
Maryn could hear the soft clicking of heels, it was the waitress, she could hear the whisper of her thoughts flutter against her skull. Her mind was always hazy after sleeping, so none of the whispers were coherent enough for her to understand. She didn’t look up until she was right beside the table.
“You want anything, sweetheart?” She had a pot of coffee in her hand, and a southern lilt in her voice. “You’ve been here a while, you must be hungry.”
If she had noticed Maryn sleeping only moments ago she didn’t mention it, but her thoughts fluttered with concern.
“Pancakes?” Maryn blinked up at her.
The waitress nodded, her name tag read Hellen. She had blonde straw-like hair and yellow rimmed glasses.
“How about some chocolate chip pancakes, huh? Knock your socks right off.” She smiled, and Maryn nodded, unwilling to deny the indulgence. “I’ll get those right out, sweet pea.”
She walked away, bright red shoes clicking as she did. She was nice.
Maryn sunk back into her seat, one of the waitresses turned on a radio and through the storm the music didn’t sound like it had any words, covered by static, but its gentle tune was nice enough.
She rubs the ache over her tired eyes, she’d have to walk further when the sun finally came up. If her jeans dried before she left the diner maybe she’d make it further than she did today. Just the thought of more walking made her head throb and ache.
Hitching a ride wasn’t a far idea for her, but didn’t like all the questions that came with asking for help. They can’t help it, always the most obvious questions first, Where are your parents? Are you all alone? Shouldn’t you be in school? She was tired of it.
The soft jingle of the bell hanging over the door rang lightly as it swung open. Maryn tugged her sweater closer when the biting breeze crept through the sleeves.
Another soft flutter of whispers filled her head, she ignored them. She didn’t care to hear anyone else's thoughts. But they grew closer, until someone was coming up beside her table again, and then the whispers were gone.
“Hello.” An accented voice greeted. “Mind if I join you?”
She looked up at the man beside her table, her eyes trailing up the silvery metal of the wheelchair he was sitting in before his face.
He was older, weathered and looked at her with a familiar kind of smile while wearing the nicest suit she had ever seen. A deep blue with a matching tie and one of those pieces of fabric people shove into the chest pocket. It made him stand out, looking strange in the rickety diner.
She doesn’t say anything, but he picks up the menu at the other end of the table and she doesn’t stop him.
“I’m Charles Xavier.” He said warmly, he extended a hand, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
She looked at his hand curiously before reaching out to shake it slowly. His hand is warm.
“Hi.” She said, wearily. He looks at their joined hands when they touch.
“Cold,” He smiles, “I’d imagine this is the warmest place around these parts.”
“For a few miles.” Maryn shrugs, he didn't seem like the worst person to have a conversation with.
“Did you walk yourself here?” She nodded. “The next town isn’t for miles. You must be exhausted.”
She shrugged, again. She felt how she always felt. Cold, tired, achy. His eyes trail over the rucksack tucked into her side.
“Is that all your things?” She nodded, tugging her bag closer.
“What I can carry.” She tells him. He hums.
“It looks heavy. Must have been difficult in this weather.”
“It’s alright.”
“If you say so.” He smiles.
She nods.
Charles, the strange British man, didn’t seem annoyed by her silence, but she was rather perturbed by his. His mind was completely silent, not a single whisper.
Usually she couldn’t keep other people’s thoughts away, only if she really concentrated she could quiet the noise down for a little bit, but it’s like his mind was completely empty.
Her dark fawn-like eyes trail up his head. She usually didn’t have to focus so much, and even now as she did, she heard nothing.
You won’t get anything up here, Maryn.
She jumped in her seat.
“Alright, baby, I got your pancakes and–oh,” Hellen came back with a hot steaming stack of chocolate chip pancakes. She looked between the two, eyeing Charles, “Is everything alright over here?”
“Yes, splendid, could I get some coffee, please? And,” He pauses to look at Maryn, “A milkshake, for my friend.”
There was only one milkshake on the menu, vanilla.
Hellen looks at her first, and then back at him.
“Of course. Coming right up, sugar.” And she clicks away again.
Charles smiled at her, kindly.
“It’s rude to snoop, you know.” He says, though there’s not much sternness in his tone.
“Most people don’t seem to mind.” She said plainly.
Charles dipped his head with a funny smile.
“I’m sure they don’t.”
“How do you know my name?” She asked, picking up her fork and butter knife as she did. She was curious but still starving. She grabbed the syrup at the end of the table, smothering her cakes.
“Because I have been keeping an eye on you for quite some time, Maryn.” He admits, watching her scarf down her pancakes like they’d run away from her. “You are very special.
“Special" isn't the word most people use.” She says out of the edge of her mouth, still chewing.
“We are not most people.” Charles hums.
“Yeah,” she muttered plainly.
“I’ll admit, your…capabilities are more advanced than I’ve seen in others your age.” He observed, “It’s quite impressive.”
Maryn doesn’t say anything to that. She didn’t have anything to say. Charles continues.
“You know, most mutant children I find are often in groups. They find one another, and protect each other.” His fingers drum on the fake carved plastic, “You remain by yourself. Have you not met others?”
She cuts jaggedly into her pancakes.
“I have.” She chews.
“And what happened?”
She thought about not telling him, then she thought he already knew and was just waiting for her to say it. Either way, he waits patiently across from her, waiting for her to say something; same gentle look in his eye.
“There's something inside me.” She admits, dubiously, “It scares people.”
“Does it scare you?” Again, she doesn’t answer.
Charles looked at her for a long time, she almost thought he was going to go away, leave her there, growing frustrated with her insolence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he looks at her with the same familiar smile.
“I have a school.” He says, “It’s not much now, barely a handful of students, even less teachers, but I created it for gifted children. Children like you.”
Maryn stared at him, her fork stabbing a piece of pancake on her plate.
“A school?”
He nods.
“I’d very much like you to attend.” He tells her, eyes looking her over, “Perhaps I can help you.
He seems to mean it. It’s the first time she can’t see into someone’s mind to know if they’re telling the truth or not, but she has a feeling, an unfamiliar feeling, that she can trust him.
She looked down at her plate, “What if you can’t?”
Charles looks at her carefully.
“Then maybe I can help you learn to control it.” Maryn looks up at him. “At the least, you’ll have a warm bed, food. Clothes that fit.”
For the first time since they started talking, she smiles. It’s small, but it’s there.
“Alright, a coffee for you,” They both looked at Hellen as she came back, “And a milkshake for you, Angel.”
“Yes, we’ll have the check please.” Charles says kindly. Then he places his forefinger and his middle finger to his temple and looks Hellen in the eyes,“You will not remember us once we leave.”
Maryn watches the waitress's eyes glaze over from behind her glasses before she smiles again.
“I’ll get that right out for you.”
Maryn looked at Charles.
“Can I do that?”
“We shall see, won’t we?” His lips spread into a thin smile. “Finish your pancakes.”
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Omg I feel so anxious I literally have never done this before 😭 but please let me know what you guys think! If I do decide to post the whole fic it’ll prob be on ao3 just cause I plan to make it pretty long/slow burn
But I hope u guys like it 🙌🙌
When I’m writing a wolverine fanfic about a girl who was abandoned by her mother after she found out she was a mutant because she thought she killer someone and so at 11 she was on her own and the first group of mutant kids she found that made her feel like she had a place in the world died because of her and now she’s a teacher at Xavier’s school where she just came back after 6 months because her powers were so out of control and she has been trying to find out why and the first person she meets when she comes back is a guy who has no memories past the last 15 years of his life and she has to help him get his memories back (the angst is about to be insane)
Silly little sneak peak of a Logan fanfic I’m writing (also her name is Maerine, not marine autocorrect is my worst enemy)