New Beginnings. wolverine x reader

xx. epilogue

The faint hum of conversation filled the halls of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, where students bustled between classes under the warm afternoon sun. Logan leaned casually against the doorframe of his history classroom, arms crossed as he watched the last few students scatter. The familiar buzz of chatter, the sound of lockers slamming shut—it was all part of a routine that had somehow become second nature to him.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Howlett!" a student called, waving as they hurried down the hall.

Logan nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He still found it strange, this quiet life of teaching, but there was a deep sense of fulfillment in it, seeing the kids grow and learn. Turning back into his classroom, he gathered his papers, thoughts already drifting to the one person who made this life feel complete.

A few doors down, my office was filled with the gentle glow of soft lighting, the space carefully arranged to be as comforting as possible. Calming shades of blue and green decorated the room, creating a serene environment that helped students feel safe. A small potted plant on my desk—a gift from Logan—sat beside a framed photo of the two of us, a candid shot of a quiet moment that never failed to bring a smile to my face.

I had just finished up a session with a young student, their lingering words of gratitude still echoing in the room as they left. Helping them work through their fears, their trauma, and finding healthier ways to cope made every day worthwhile. I leaned back in my chair, feeling the rewarding weight of a day well spent. My powers had finally found a purpose beyond the battlefield—here, they were healing instead of hurting, guiding rather than pushing. I owe it all to Logan, without him as my anchor I may have never found my way to this role.

The sound of a knock drew me from my thoughts. Logan stood at the door, his familiar silhouette framed against the soft light from the hallway. His smile was small but warm, eyes filled with a tenderness that never ceased to melt my heart.

"Busy day?" he asked, stepping inside and leaning against the doorframe with an easy grace that was all his own.

I smiled, rising to meet him. "Not as busy as yours, Mr. Howlett. Break up any good fights today?"

"Lost count after three," he replied with a low chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ready to head home?"

I nodded, slipping my hand into his. We walked through the now-quiet hallways, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows on the walls. The school felt almost magical in these moments—filled with the hopes of young mutants learning to find their place in the world, just as we had once done ourselves.

As we stepped outside, the cool evening breeze greeted us. The walk to our home was peaceful, a comfortable silence settling between us as we followed the familiar path through the woods. Our house was nestled in a secluded spot, surrounded by trees and the soft sounds of nature. It was a place that was truly ours—far enough from the school to feel private, but close enough that we were never too far from the kids who needed us.

Inside, the space was warm and welcoming, filled with little touches of our shared life. Logan's collection of vintage records lined a shelf by the turntable, while my art supplies cluttered a corner table, sketches and doodles spilling out from every surface. Photos of the two of us, captured in candid moments, adorned the walls—snapshots of stolen kisses, quiet laughs, and the little pieces of a life we had built from the ground up.

I kicked off my shoes, sinking into the plush couch with a content sigh. Logan followed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as I leaned into him, my head resting against his chest. There was something so natural about these moments—how his presence, his scent, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat made everything feel right.

"Hard to believe this is our life now," I murmured, tracing a finger along his collarbone absentmindedly. "It's quiet, it's normal... and I love it."

Logan pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head, his fingers brushing softly through my hair. "You deserve normal, darlin'. You deserve every bit of this."

We stayed like that for a long while, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other's company. Logan's thumb traced soothing patterns on my arm, and I let my eyes drift shut, savoring the peace that settled around us. In moments like these, the world outside felt distant, the memories of darker times no longer weighing us down.

Later, as the evening settled in, Logan moved to the kitchen, lighting the stove as the soft hiss of gas filled the room. I watched him cook, the familiar sight of him moving through the small space with practiced ease bringing a warm sense of comfort. He'd taught himself to cook for the both of us, insisting that meals shared together were a way to connect—to heal.

The smell of grilled vegetables and seasoned meat filled the air, and I set the table, lighting a few candles that cast flickering shadows on the walls. Dinner was simple, but it was ours. We talked about our day, shared quiet laughter over inside jokes, and let the conversation flow naturally between bites. Every moment felt like a reminder of how far we'd come—every laugh, every touch, a testament to the life we'd fought so hard to create.

As the night deepened, we retreated back to the living room, Logan pulling me into his lap on the couch. We sat in silence, listening to the crackle of the fireplace and the distant chirping of crickets outside. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, and I felt a contentment settle deep in my bones—a kind of peace I had never dared to dream of.

"I'm glad we made it here," I whispered, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. The firelight flickered in his eyes, casting soft, warm shadows that danced across his familiar features.

Logan's eyes softened, his thumb brushing against my cheek before he pressed a lingering kiss to my lips. It was gentle and unhurried, filled with the kind of unspoken promises we'd always known but had never quite put into words. "Me too," he murmured against my mouth, his voice a low, tender rumble. "More than you'll ever know."

I smiled softly, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as I whispered, "I love you, Mister Wolverine."

A warm, genuine smile spread across his face, and he hummed in response, pulling me closer. "And I love you, Miss Haze."

In this quiet corner of the world, wrapped in each other's arms and surrounded by the love we'd fought so hard to create, we had finally found the peace we'd been searching for. Here, in our little haven, we were home.

fin.

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Thank you so much everyone for the love and support, I couldn't be more grateful!! I hope you're happy with the ending, maybe later on ill make a oneshots book to keep feeding you guys' addiction haha, not quite sure on that yet tho! 

I hope you enjoyed, and thank you all,

-hazy