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Y/N sat in her desk, the same as any other day at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. The hum of chatter filled the room as students discussed last night's homework or the latest gossip. She was about to doodle in the margins of her notebook when the door swung open with a bang. The room grew silent as a figure filled the doorway, casting a shadow over the chalkboard.
The newcomer was a man, muscular and tall, with a scruff of gray hair and a five-o'clock shadow that made him look like he'd just rolled out of bed. His eyes scanned the room, and when they met hers, she felt a jolt of something she couldn't quite name. It was Logan, known to the world as Wolverine, and he was standing in the place of their regular math teacher, Mr. Summers.
Y/N couldn't help but stare at his arms, the fabric of his shirt stretching over the defined muscles. There was a sense of power in the way they moved as he placed his briefcase on the desk and began to unpack. The scent of pine and leather filled the air, a stark contrast to the usual smell of dry-erase markers and dusty textbooks.
The class remained quiet for a few moments before the whispers began. "Is that Wolverine?" one student murmured to another. "He's subbing for Cyclops?" The tension was palpable as the legendary X-Men member took attendance, his gruff voice a stark contrast to Mr. Summers' usual calm tone.
"Alright, listen up," Logan began, his eyes sweeping over the room with a stern look that immediately silenced any further murmurs. "I'm here to teach you math, not to be your personal superhero storytime. So let's get down to business."
The class exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and trepidation. Y/N felt her heart rate spike as she took in the sight of Logan standing before them. His presence was undeniably commanding, yet there was a hint of vulnerability in the way his eyes searched for understanding. The students slowly turned to their textbooks, eager to learn from such an esteemed figure.
"Now, I know you're all used to Professor Summers'... unique style," Logan said with a smirk, "but I expect you to show me the same respect you show to him. Understood?" He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a fraction of a second longer than the others. She felt her cheeks warm and quickly focused on her book, hoping the heat wasn't visible.
Throughout the lesson, Y/N found herself drawn to Logan's deep, gruff voice as he explained complex problems with surprising patience.
As the bell rang, students began to gather their things, eager to leave. Y/N, however, lingered, pretending to have difficulty with her algebra homework. Logan noticed her lingering and approached her desk.
"Need some help, kid?" he asked, his voice gentle despite the gruffness that had been present during class.
Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting his piercing gaze. She felt a shiver run down her spine. "I just don't get this one problem," she remarked, holding out her notebook.
