#colossus/reader

[urdreamydoodles]

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

[dinogoofymutated]

First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.

Warren Worthington

Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.

He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.

He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!

He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.

    It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.

    The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.

    Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.

    "Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.

    "Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.

    “Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.

    "Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.

    “His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.

    “No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift. 

    “...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.

    “He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.

    “He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.

    “Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.

    “I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.

    “He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.

    When he steps away from you, He’s silent.

    “Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.

    “Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”

Piotr Rasputin

GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??

This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.

He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.

He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.

    His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage. 

    You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

    It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.

    “She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.

    “No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.

    “The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.

Kurt wagner

Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.

He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.

And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.

He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.

    Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.

    There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.

   Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes. 

    “Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.

    “How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.

    “Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate. 

    “Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.

    “I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.

    “Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.

   “Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”

Remy LeBeau

Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.

Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.

Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.

He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.

He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.

    When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.

    3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.

    “Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.

    “She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.

    “Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.

    “And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.

    “I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.

    “Remy-”

    “Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.

    “Do I need to tuck you in, too?”

[librababe99]

Hi Loves! This will be my first time EVER participating in Kinktober and honestly i'm so excited to do this🤭 Below I will be posting my lineup.

❥・All of these stories will be "Character x Reader" and I promise there won't be any use of Y/N.

❥・Female Reader or Gender Neutral Reader will be featured.

❥・ If you'd like, you can comment your choices below and I will tag you OR use this link: CLICK HERE

Logan Howlett x Reader: Knife Play (ft. Claws)

Scott Summers x Reader: Sensory Deprivation

Old Man!Logan x Fem!Reader: Pregnancy kink

Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader: Face sitting

Remy Lebeau x Virgin! Reader: Praise kink

Young!Erik Lensherr x Fem!Reader: Threesome (Ft. Charles)

Hank McCoy x Fem!Reader: Cunnilingus

Wade Wilson x Reader: Dom/Sub, Lingerie

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x Reader: Thigh Riding

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader: Breeding

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader: Infidelity

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader: Breast worship, titty fucking

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader: Period Sex

Loki x Fem! Reader: Seduction, Body Worship, Collaring

Victor Von Doom (RDJs vers.) x Reader: Corruption

Peter Parker x Reader (Andrew Garfield's vers.): Bondage

Johnny Storm x Reader: Wax play, temperature play

Reed Richards x Reader: Sex Pollen

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader: Mirror Sex

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader: Shower sex, deep throating

Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader: bimbofication

Clark Kent x Reader: Breath play, choking

Hal Jordan x Reader: Drunk / anonymous sex

Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader: Brat Taming

Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader: BDSM, Sadism/masochism

Homelander x Reader: Somnophilia (Sleep sex)

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader: Edging, orgasm denial

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader: Lap dances, Rough sex

Jack Reacher (Alan Ritchson's vers.) x Fem! Reader: Size kink, overstimulation, creampie

Old Man! Logan x Fem! Reader: Food play (ft. Whipped Cream)

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader: Roleplay, Hunter/Prey

[mikyapixie]

90's-esque swimsuit special!!! Krakoan edition!!!

By Josh Cassara

I think Wolverine is naked!??!

[dorkszn]

wade recongnizes you the moment he sees you. those eyes. he’d never forget those eyes. he’d stared into them from across the room for hours when he wasn’t being absolutely tortured. when he finally got a break and was just strapped to the table.

you looked so good. so much better since escaping that place during the fire. how did he end up like this and you ended up like that? he wasn’t mad. a little jealous but you’re damn good to look at so he isn’t complaining too much.

you recognized wade the moment you saw him. he looks different, scarred, abused, terrifying some would say. but through it all, you still saw wade. the only person who brought you a sliver of comfort in the workshop. just with his big brown eyes staring into yours from across the room.

you’d only gotten a glimpse of him when the fire started. when you made your escape. but you committed it to memory and you knew. even after everything, it was still wade.

you don’t look away. you never have. you just fall into his eyes and let the cruel cruel world disappear for just a second. and something else about staring at him through the crowd made you know something. he saved you.

it’s time for you to save him.

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Heat Wave | Piotr Rasputin (X-MEN)

Note: Hello There! It's almost my birthday so, yay, happy birthday to me! This is the part one of the smut I'm trying to write, but I have a damn writers block right now, so... Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Some swear words and smut. 18+, if you´re a minor please don't interact.

Words: 1245

A heat wave started to take over the city just as Storm was on mission and couldn’t be there to help cool down the x mansion with her powers. The classes were suspended because no one could concentrate and the fans weren’t handling the job very well.

Bobby created an ice rink for the young kids to play and managed to cool the pool water so other kids could play there, but the sun was too warm to be outside for too long.

The teachers were giving juices and popsicles to everyone that wanted, and the older kids, such as you, Piotr, Rogue and Kitty, were helping entertain the kids that weren’t in the pool or the ice rink.

You got the garden hose and started to wet everyone with it, to see if it helped a little bit. 

There were kids laughing hard when you managed to hit them with the water, you were following them with the hose until one kid hid behind Piotr and you managed to hit him with the cold water, making him yelp.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry, Pi!” You laughed seeing the other mutant drenched.

He turned to you, a mischievous look in his face.

“You’ll pay for that, дорогой (dear).” He stated, smiling.

You liked him more than a friend, but never had the courage to tell him this, so hearing him talk like this, wow. You had to hold not to bite your damn lips.

“Only if you catch me.” You gave him the tongue and started running away as he ran after you, both laughing as if you had five years.

Professor X was looking out for the kids, even he had light clothes on, as you and Piotr ran past him. As you still held the hose, you ended up getting the Professor all drenched too.

He spat the water that entered his mouth when you drenched him, a little confused at what had happened.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry, Professor!” You stopped running but Piotr didn’t have the same luck as he saw you stopped too late, the russian boy ended up knocking you down with his massive body. Thank the mutant gods he was in his human form at the moment.

“It’s okay, my dear.” The professor grinned at the scene before him. “Careful not to hurt yourselves.”

 The hose fell with its tip up, making it “rain” on top of you two as you looked at Piotr’s face. He was looking back at you, his face so close you could almost feel his breath.

“...Hi” He smirked.

“Hi.” You mirrored his expression.

He got closer, his nose touching yours. You closed your eyes as he finally closed the distance between your lips and kissed you sweetly. It was almost a dream coming true that he was finally kissing you for real.

Jean, who was watching the scene behind Charles, smiled at that, she remembered her first kiss with Scott. She was a teacher, but she was the cool kind of teacher, the one that was a friend. She knew how much you daydreamed about that kiss. 

Bobby threw a snowball on Piotr’s head, making you laugh when he got away from your lips.

“Just a second.” He said, his russian accent thicker as he got up and ran after Bobby to throw a snowball at him too.

You sat on the ground as they ran, laughing at how childish that was. Once Piotr finally managed to hit Bobby with a snowball he ran towards you again and held his hand out to help you up.

—

As the night came by, the heat was still present, but the kids were all sleepy from the amount of activities they had that afternoon. Everyone had pizza for dinner and ice cream for dessert. 

As soon as everyone went to bed, you heard a knock on your door.

You got up to see who it was, smiling as you saw Piotr there with a yellow flower in hand. You knew it was a flower from Professor’s garden, making you smile widely at that and letting him come into the room.

He was wearing only shorts in that heat, as you were wearing your shortest pajamas. He bit his lip as he saw you in it.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” He admitted, holding the flower out to you.

You took the flower with a smile on your lips and put it on your nightstand.

Piotr hugged you lightly, lowering his face to kiss your lips again. That wasn’t the best position since he was so much taller than you, so he held your hips and pulled you up, making your legs close around his waist.

You were hungrily kissing each other as he walked to your bed backwards, falling butt first in it and not stopping the kiss. Now you were sitting on his lap. You couldn’t deny how wet you were getting from just a kiss, but you could feel him under your lap and he was definitely hard. 

You couldn’t help how you were squirming in his lap, he was getting impossibly hard beneath you and it was making you so needy. 

“Careful, darling, you don’t want to start something you won’t be able to finish…” 

“I need it, please.” You pouted at him.

He laughed quietly and gave you a quick kiss on your lips again before you got out of his lap to kneel in front of him.

Your hands went to his shorts, pulling them down with his underwear, his dick popped up from the clothes and your eyes widened. He was huge. 

“Fuck-” You licked your lips looking at him.

He smiled at that, his eyes were almost closed with lust.

You licked the underside of his dick, making him moan lightly at that, and you put the tip of his dick inside your mouth. His dick was so big it was stretching your lips so good. 

Looking up at his face through your lashes, you started to suck his length, your eyes were sparkling with lust. 

Piotr grabbed her hair with his right hand, pulling it slightly with each movement of her mouth. The older mutant was moaning softly so as not to wake anyone, biting his lips, staring at her.

 "Fuck..." Piotr cursed.

 The girl relaxed her throat, enveloping him until he touched the back of her throat, but it was not even close to the full length of his cock. With what was outside of her mouth, she masturbated him with her hand.

 "Y/N..." Piotr called her with some urgency. “I’m almost-”

She smiled around him, sucking him even harder so he could cum in her mouth.

It didn’t take long for him to moan loudly and his back to hit the mattress, cumming deep down her throat.

She smiled, her chin was dirty with his cum that she hadn’t been able to swallow.

“Fuck.” Colossus ran his hands over his face before sitting back on the bed, looking at her with desire. “Come here.”

When she got up to sit on his lap, a loud noise was heard. It was one of the children screaming.

They both stared at each other, Piotr put his shorts back on and she wiped her face with her shirt, running out of the room, he was just behind her. The house was being invaded by Stryker’s henchmen.

[allophonicmess]

Imagine Logan seeing you, his love interest/soul mate, in his new reality after the events of Deadpool 3. You want go get to know him but he thinks he isn't good enough for you. So deadpool, Colossus and the X-Team try to get you two together.

Inspired by "Too sweet" by Hozier

I'm putting this out here for inspiration. I would write it myself but I am currently writing my thesis and don't have the time :(

UPDATE: I just uploaded part one of a three part series based on this. Check it out !

[visionofhope04]

Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh? ( logan howlett x reader ) part two

summary : as y/n adjusting to the mansion and being free , the resident do little things to help some work more than others, a surprise from the professor has her wondering if it all real . the one in charge of the lab show up not happy his asset is gone while the scientists wonder if they will ever be free

warning: nightmare of a traumatic past , some angst not much , mainly fluff , one minor character death set in the early oo's Xmen era but may be modernised . grammatical errors ( sorry )

( part one here )

A month since she woke in a too bright lab , in a place safe for her kind it was almost like everyday she was waiting for the penny to drop.  Many years almost decades of being locked in cells and cages like an animal it was hard to adjust to the idea of being free. Being able to maneuver so freely , going to from one part of the mansion to the other  almost like she was testing the waters of it all .  Even having her brother in her life again was surreal it was , talking to basically a ghost is what both thought at one point and yet he was really there . being in a place filled with others like herself was scary she watched  “ her” kids like hawks making sure  it was truly save and yet seeing them smile  wild and get  things she tried and failed to give them in captivity was something she would be forever grateful for .

Nights though they were the worse , took weeks for her to get used to having a bed nevermind the room . every time her eyes closed they would open and she was back there.  She could even smell the damp and the mold , she felt the coldness of the bars near her skin making her shoot up in the bed . panting as tears fell down her face and the sweat pumped through ever pore on her body , she could still hear their screams  in her head .  she would try calm down  , lay her head on the pillow but it was useless as it always was . she got out of the bed and headed out the door letting her feet pad along the hardwood floor , til she would be standing in the kitchen filling a mug with water stirring her finger around til the steam bellowed  from the ceramic throwing the tea bag in . she turned to the window letting the tea stew a little and cool on its own . she stared up at the night sky watching the stars twinkle , something she barely ever remembered seeing that when she did it felt almost magical . she could sense him coming ,  that same smell of cigars and whiskey , an oaky sort of musk but yet her eye remained looking out the window. 

“ don’t you ever sleep” she asked only to hear a light chuckle and the refrigerator to open . 

“ could say same about you flower power” logan watched her , it seem to almost be routine the two had gotten themself in  but he didn’t mind it  usually he would of but not with her. 

“ can’t sleep” she turned not caring if he could see the red and puffiness of her eyes . 

“ you look like you could use something stronger than tea” he turning to the refrigerator. “ wait you old enough to drink?” he pause looking at her. 

“ i’m old enough , not you old  but i am old enough to drink in your country” she shook her head hiding the little smile that was fighting to come out. “ i’m good with the tea though” she blew it letting it cool quicker as he took a seat across from her holding his bottle out. She took it easily letting a light ice cast over the bottle . 

“ i forget your like a bag of tricks” he chuckled taking a swig letting the now ice cold liquid slide down his throat. 

“ a very useless one” she scoffed drinking the tea ever so often her eyes would glance to the window. 

“ those kid would disagree” he countered . 

“ the ones that didn’t make would agree” she stood walking off cup in hand as he heard her steps up the stairs . he knew that feeling all to well but she of all people didn’t deserve to feel it . 

The morning she sat as everyone was busy with lessons and their own things which meant peace to read the books ororo handed her although she had a feeling her brother played more part in it  but nonetheless she loved the little gift . then she could sense a headache coming it wasn’t that she disliked him , it was more he was well annoying .  she caught him looking at book to deal with traumatized youths a rather outdated version of it at that . 

“ hey kid what you reading , oh the professor want to see you in the garden at lunch time” scott sat near her as jean watched from the door way . 

“ you know i gotta say kiddo your so smart and cool” he began as her eyes rolled. 

“ why do you talk to me like a puppy” she kept her eyes on her book. “ should i talk to you like you are golden retriever” she asked only to hear a muffled laugh. 

“ jesus you make logan seem like sunshine , you have a pretty smile you should do that more” he said trying to keep strong but even jean knew what was coming as y/n looked at him a flick of her hand the vines held him on to the chair. 

“ stay .. good boy … grey you have my sympathy “ she passed the giggle redhead as logan joined them at the door.    “ here’s the doberman .. why are you so muddy” she grimace heading off where ever. 

“ someone gonna help me” scott called. 

“ she right you do talk to her like a puppy” jean walked over to her boyfriend. 

“ the book said positivity would help” he sighed. 

“ it’s nice your trying but your more annoying her then helping her just talk to her like a person and she’ll come around” she kissed his head. 

“ he annoys us all i don’t think it gonna work” logan snorted admiring the view of scott being tied to the sofa.

“ your funny really become a comedian but before then help me here” scott huffed. 

“ she not wrong you are like a gold retriever and you are like a doberman” jean laughed . 

“ it’s an upgrade from what she called me before “ scott smiled a small victory . 

“ what she call you before?” logan asked confused. 

“ annoying asshole” scott and jean said in unison. 

She walked to the door her eyes watching as the kids of the  mansion played not a care in the world , one thing in the month of being there this was a first stepping outside.  She felt ridiculous it shouldn’t feel so hard to do something so simple. She looked down to see a gloved hand outstretched toward her looking up to see the kind smile  of the woman with the white streak in her hair . 

“ ain’t nothing out here that’s gonna hurt you unless some of the guys go shirtless that is  , you don’t have to come out i can get professor come to you or you can hold my hand til you feel comfortable enough to let go” rogue smiled . 

“ i am not scared” y/n defensively  said . 

“ i know that nothing scary here” rogue smiled as the woman took her hand . 

She took a deep breathe before standing out  letting her bare feet touch the stone til they walked little by little to the grass it been so long since she felt the grass it was so foreign and yet so welcome as the too walked through the garden. 

“ i like your dress it’s pretty on you” rogue said breaking the silence. 

“ it’s too big but it’s hot today” y/n dismissed the compliment looking down at the white sundress that she wore . 

“ still you look pretty” rogue shrugged . 

“ i um like your hair” Y/n finally said . 

“ why thank you  , look you ever feel bored or anything  come hang out with me no pressure though” rogue patted her hand. 

“ hanging out ?” she asked her head tilting. 

“ you know like talking or doing something reading or something like that  i got some magazines that are cool” rogue explain softly. 

“  y/n dear thank you for meeting me out here” charles called out . 

“ offer stands , want me to wait here or you good?” 

“ i’m good” y/n nodded as the other woman waved heading off toward the mansion . 

“ you wanted to see me?” she asked . 

“ yes i do , i want to show you something , oh and y/n could you stop tying down my xmen” he chuckled . 

“ i’ll try not too but scotts annoying” she shrugged a small giggle slipping out of her mouth . 

“ just over here ,  see this is greenhouse i was telling you about  i wanted to show it to you now i know i said you could help the plants but if you would like to just come here to read that is perfectly fine i know it can get loud in the evenings so we thought you might enjoy the quiet and if you would like to plant well you can it’s your to use” he smiled handing her the key. 

“ why are you so nice “ her head tilted . 

“ because theres been enough people treating us unfairly for too long” he patted her hand as the two headed into the green house.  

As she unlocked the door instantly seeing a little nook with the books she like to read as well as chairs and small table that had her preferred tea sitting upon it . she walked down the aisle  her eyes wide in wonder and yet a warm feeling spread through her body as she took it all in . the plants around her springing to life  and a genuine smile taking it place on her face. 

“ i take it you like it , your brother and logan helped tidy it up” he took note of how vibrant the colors of the plants around her were  and it matched the smile on her face . 

“ i love it” she laughed wondering if it was all truly a dream . “ thank you professor” she walked over hugging the man tightly . 

“ you are welcome dear i shall leave you to  enjoy you peace” he held her hand little tighter before leaving . she must of walked around three or four times taking it in , looking out the large glass windows probably first time in her life she finally fell free .

He stood watching as she walked around  wide eyes filled with awe and wonder . something about this one was different , she held his attention from the moment he saw her laid out in that cage or even when she had him tied to a wall the day she woke up.  He went to the kitchen knowing she would be there and at first they would sit in silence , then she would make small quips about him never sleeping . slowly she was opening up in fact the night before was first time she even mentioned anything of her past . maybe it was because  she was the only one in the mansion who could even close to knowing how he felt when it came to the past . yeah they all had some rough story of life before they came to charles xavier's school for gifted youngster but not as much as she had. He also like she didn’t candy coat everything but yet she wasn’t mean  yeah she and scott had there back and forth but it was more playful than anything their was never a malice intent in her teasing of the man . she was so sweet to the kids to and not just the ones that came with her , she went out of her way to help them if they needed it . logan couldn’t help being drawn to her . this was first time he’d seen her genuinely smile too . 

“ thank you” she said passing by him almost startling him he was so lost in thought he didn’t notice her leave the greenhouse . 

 “ for what ?” he quirked his brow. 

“For being muddy” she called waving her hand only for him to feel a little weight on his head . 

He could help chuckle when he reached up feeling the petal he took it off his head seeing the flower crown in his hands. 

They fucked up , or so he wanted the others to think so . DR.Thompson stood as his colleges and fellow scientist bill and frank paced the room . both muttering and mumbling about losing the asset it made him sick when they referred to them that way , even worse when they called them the subjects . the doors burst open as the three men jumped back watching the agents fill the room  guns on display  a clear scare tactic that was working too well . 

“ now since i’m here would someone wanna explain how my best subject is gone “ the booming voice called before appearing in the archway of the door. 

“ sir with all due respect we were getting no where once the kids came she got more defiant , it was a lost cause we were going to dispose of them  “ frank spoke up a shaking and tremble to his voice . 

“ On who’s order was it to do such thing because i don’t recall giving it” the man stood almost toe to toe with him . 

“ mine , stryker sir it was a dead end project , we couldn’t do what we were suppose to , she wouldn’t let up and we couldn’t sedate her it wore off to quick we lost too many men” bill stood forward . 

“ so your giving orders now huh,  is this your project or is it mine , am i not the one who pays you and your teams well to get the job done” he growled . 

Doctor thompson knew he was next , maybe they already knew he was the one who tipped them off , he couldn’t sit idly by it was too cruel actually it was beyond cruel watching them trying to break her down. The screams of the  kid they did get haunted him and seeing her so defeated afterward he saw it all every time he closed his eyes .  the sounds of the back and forth and the footsteps of colonel william stryker came before him . the click of a trigger and bang that followed feeling the warm splash of blood on his face thompson opened his eyes , turning to see bill on the ground the blood pouring from the mans head. 

“ now when we get her back you will do as your told and finish the project you are set to do or you will be joining him do i make myself clear” he spat. 

“ y-y-ye-yes s-s-sir” thompson nodded shaking like a leaf  watching as the colonel and his men walked out the room leaving them standing in disbelief he was almost found out . 

“ we can’t fail again once they get her , we’re using the prototype it our only shot of staying alive” frank whispered before he ran to the closest bin puking his guts out . 

Dr. thompson wondered if he would ever get out of this mess but he hope more they didn’t get her again it would be dire if they did succeed . 

part three

[sadstonewrites]

Can I request a kiss prompt?

hot, sloppy and wet, messy, roaming hands, desperate, passionate, dizzying, needy, lust.

OR

return, fall into, desperate, tight hug, squeeze, flowing tears, "i missed you", never let go

Wowie zowie responding to this late, but oh oh oh lovely anon this is delicious. Again assuming you're requesting this for Colossus and trying to keep this as a reader-insert-slash Y/N situation (if you're looking specifically for my OC or for a different character just let me know!)

So, without further ado...how about both?

hot, sloppy and wet, messy, roaming hands, desperate, passionate, dizzying, needy, lust.

He doesn't know where to put his hands, what part of your body to hold in his grasp as his tongue dances with yours in a desperate dance that leaves his chest burning. But he needs you. He needs you more than he needs air. Piotr needs to have you as close as possible, needs to feel your body against his; it's only natural that he heaves you upwards into his arms, engulfing your form in his.

Your hands find their way around his neck, your legs similarly wrapping around his waist. One of his hands finds the back of your head, cradling it and gently pushing you back to his lips, your noses bumping against each other as the kiss resumes. A minute apart was too much, his other hand lewdly grabbing at your bottom as if he could pull you in any closer. It's intoxicating, wet and warm, but eventually you have to rip away for air. The two of you are panting, chests heaving and eyes blown wide with lust.

"Moya lyubov," Piotr rasps, the words barely a whisper in your ear. He's fighting to regain composure, failing miserably as his next words come out more like a growl. "More."

return, fall into, desperate, tight hug, squeeze, flowing tears, "i missed you", never let go

It was a long mission, longer than anyone could have prepared for. And now he's home, stepping out of the Blackbird hangar and into the hallway, and there you are. There's a moment of complete and utter silence in the hallway, Piotr barely out the door when he feels it in his chest. A gravitational pull at seeing you there, no words exchanged as the two of your hurtle towards each other. All exhaustion is his body is replaced by the urge, the need, to have you in his arms. To feel you, smell you, to form himself to the shape of your body after being apart for so long.

His steps are loud, purposeful and a warning to everyone to get out of the way as he catches you in his arms. You're squeezing him as tight as your body can manage, he's worried that his skin is too hard, too cold while still armored up - but you don't care. You just squeeze him tighter and dig your head into his shoulder as the tears begin to flow down your cheeks. He's here. He's here and he's safe, back in your arms as you mutter a small prayer in thanks to whatever being is looking out for your Piotr. Your Colossus.

"I missed you."

[urdreamydoodles]

Could we get first kisses with X-Men pretty please?

X-MEN X FEM!READER

Your first kiss

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Hank McCoy, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney, Wade Wilson, Colossus, Magik, Kitty Pryde & Morph

Requests are still not open but will be soon! (Please understand that I can't do all the requests, I take the one that inspires me)

LOGAN HOWLETT (WOLVERINE)

- The night is quiet, but there’s a storm beneath Logan’s skin. It’s always been that way—rage coiled tight in his ribs, old wounds that never quite close, ghosts that never quite leave. But here, with you, there is something else, something that softens the sharp edges of him. He watches you from the porch of the cabin, a cigar burning low between his fingers, his gaze steady, unreadable. You don’t push him to speak—Logan’s never been a man who talks about feelings, but he feels them all the same, deeper than most, heavier than most. And tonight, those feelings are pulling him under.

- "You don’t scare easy, do ya?" he mutters, and there’s something like admiration in his voice, something rough and unpolished. He’s used to people keeping their distance, used to the way they flinch from the weight of what he is, but not you. No, you stay. You meet his gaze with quiet certainty, as if you see something beyond the blood, beyond the beast. It unsettles him. It grounds him. He isn’t sure which one is worse.

- He moves before he can think better of it, closing the space between you in a heartbeat. His hand cups the back of your neck, calloused and warm, and then his mouth is on yours. Logan doesn’t kiss like a man who’s uncertain—he kisses like a man who has spent lifetimes waiting, like a man who doesn’t know softness but is willing to learn. It’s possessive, a growl at the back of his throat, the scrape of his stubble against your skin, the sheer force of him overwhelming in the best way.

- When he finally pulls away, his forehead presses against yours, his breath uneven. "You sure about this, darlin'?" The question is low, gruff, but there’s something hesitant beneath it, something almost fragile. And when your fingers tighten in his shirt, pulling him back in, Logan exhales like he’s found something worth holding onto.

REMY LEBEAU (GAMBIT)

- The game has been going on all night—the dance of glances, the teasing words wrapped in silk, the unspoken challenge between you and the infamous Gambit. Remy thrives on this, on the art of pursuit, on the thrill of a gamble. But this? This is different. You’re not just another conquest, another momentary pleasure to chase and leave behind. No, you are something far more dangerous. You are a risk that he is terrified to take—but he’s never been one to back down from a high-stakes game.

- "You know, chère," he drawls, voice smooth as whiskey, "I t’ink you enjoy makin’ me wait." His fingers brush over yours where they rest on the poker table, a barely-there touch that sends heat skittering up your spine. He’s been flirting with you for months, every word a promise, every touch a question. But you’ve held him at arm’s length, making him work for it, making him want it. And oh, does he want it.

- The moment happens fast—one second, he’s watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk, and the next, he’s got you pressed against the wall of the dimly lit bar, his body caging yours in. His hands are warm, his eyes burning with something deeper than mischief. "No more games, mon amour," he murmurs, and then his lips are on yours. It’s devastating, slow but demanding, a thief taking exactly what he wants. He tastes like danger and something achingly sweet, like the promise of trouble you never want to escape.

- When he pulls back, he grins, his forehead resting against yours. "Worth de wait, non?" And the way your fingers tighten in his coat tells him everything he needs to know.

KURT WAGNER (NIGHTCRAWLER)

- The air is thick with laughter, with warmth, with the quiet kind of joy that comes from simply existing beside someone who makes the world a little lighter. Kurt has always been light, despite the weight of the world, despite the way people see him as something other, something monstrous. But you have never looked at him that way. Never once. And tonight, beneath the soft glow of paper lanterns strung across the Xavier mansion’s garden, he realizes just how much that means.

- "Do you ever wonder if things happen for a reason?" he muses, his tail flicking idly as he leans beside you against the railing. His accent makes the words sound almost wistful, almost like something out of a fairytale. And you, ever his willing audience, tilt your head in curiosity. "Like destiny?"

- He hesitates only a moment before reaching for you, his three-fingered hand curling around yours. His skin is warm, his touch hesitant, reverent. "I do not believe I deserve such a gift," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. "But if I did… I t’ink it would be you." The words linger between you, delicate, uncertain. And then, as if drawn by something beyond himself, he leans in. The kiss is soft, almost shy, the kind of kiss that speaks of quiet longing, of devotion that has been waiting for its moment.

- When he pulls away, his golden eyes search yours, as if waiting for permission to believe this is real. And when you smile—when you pull him back in, your hands tangling in the soft curls at the nape of his neck—Kurt exhales, a prayer answered.

SCOTT SUMMERS (CYCLOPS)

- Scott has always been a man of control, of discipline, of walls built high enough to keep even himself out. He has to be—leadership demands it, survival depends on it. But when it comes to you, control is a battle he is losing. The way you look at him, the way you challenge him, the way you make him feel like something more than just a soldier—it unravels him in ways he is still struggling to understand.

- "I shouldn’t," he says, voice tight, almost pained. You are standing too close, your fingers brushing against his wrist, grounding him in a way that makes his head spin. His ruby-quartz lenses shield his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the way it lingers. "It’s not safe." He means the words—Scott has spent too long holding himself back, afraid of losing control, afraid of what he might destroy. But it’s too late for that. He’s already falling.

- The moment is inevitable. He moves with the careful precision of a man who is both afraid and desperate, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is searing, controlled, but barely. His hands frame your face, steady despite the war waging beneath his skin. It’s overwhelming—the heat of it, the weight of years spent denying himself anything that felt this real.

- When he pulls away, he exhales sharply, as if catching his breath after a battle hard-fought. His fingers linger at your jaw, his touch hesitant. "Tell me to stop," he says, but there’s no conviction in it. And when you shake your head, when you pull him back in, Scott lets himself fall, for once surrendering to something other than duty.

JEAN GREY (PHOENIX)

- There are moments when Jean feels like she is too much. Too much power, too much feeling, too much of something vast and unknowable. She has spent years keeping herself restrained, learning control as though her heart beats to a metronome rather than a wild drum. But when she is with you, she wonders if it is safe to be unguarded, if it is safe to be simply Jean and nothing more.

- Tonight, she lets herself be soft. The two of you sit beneath the vastness of the stars, the Xavier mansion looming behind you, distant and forgotten for now. The night is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the trees, but inside Jean’s mind, there is no quiet—not when you are near. She doesn’t need to read your thoughts to know what lingers there. She can feel it, in the way your fingers brush against hers, in the warmth of your presence.

- "I don’t want to be careful with you," she murmurs, and there is something raw in her voice, something aching. And then she kisses you—not hesitant, not restrained, but with the kind of intensity that burns. Her fingers thread through your hair, her breath stolen between heartbeats, between the desperate need to be close, to feel something beyond the weight of what she is. It is both gentle and consuming, a force of nature wrapped in something heartbreakingly human.

- When she pulls away, her hands linger against your jaw, and she smiles—something small, something meant only for you. "Tell me I don’t have to hold back," she whispers. And when you answer her with another kiss, she knows she has found something worth surrendering to.

ORORO MUNROE (STORM)

- The sky has always been an extension of Ororo, a reflection of the emotions she keeps locked beneath careful serenity. But tonight, there is no storm. No restless wind, no rolling thunder—only the gentle hum of the night and the warmth of your presence beside her. She watches you in the dim glow of candlelight, her eyes filled with something unreadable, something vast.

- "Do you ever wonder how small we are?" she muses, her voice as soft as the breeze that dances through your hair. The two of you stand on the rooftop of the Xavier mansion, the city lights glimmering in the distance, but all she can see is you. Ororo has spent a lifetime above the world, both in spirit and in form, but with you, she feels grounded in a way she has never known before.

- She reaches for you, her fingers tracing a path along your cheek, as though memorizing something she never wishes to forget. And then she leans in, her lips brushing against yours like a whispered secret, like the first breath before a storm. The kiss is deliberate, reverent, like the way the rain kisses the earth after a long drought. There is patience in it, tenderness, but beneath that—something deeper. A quiet promise, an unspoken devotion.

- When she pulls back, the night is still, holding its breath as though the world itself has taken notice of this moment. Ororo’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile. "I think," she murmurs, "that you are the only thing that has ever made me want to stay on the ground."

ROGUE

- She has spent her whole life fearing touch. It is a cruel thing, to want something so deeply and yet never be able to have it. But with you, the longing is unbearable, suffocating, twisting in her chest like something wild and restless. She has kissed before—quick, fleeting moments stolen behind barriers, through gloves, through layers of caution. But never like this. Never real.

- "Ah don’t wanna hurt you," she says, and there is a tremble in her voice, something vulnerable hidden beneath her usual confidence. You are standing too close, and she should move away, should create distance like she always does—but she can’t. Not this time. Not with you.

- The decision is made before she can talk herself out of it. Her gloved hand curls around the back of your neck, and then she kisses you. There is something desperate in it, something that tastes of loneliness and longing, of a girl who has spent her whole life reaching for something just out of her grasp. It is bruising, filled with everything she has never been able to say, everything she has been too afraid to feel.

- When she pulls back, her breathing is ragged, her forehead resting against yours. "Tell me you ain't scared," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. And when you don’t pull away—when your fingers tighten in her jacket, grounding her—Rogue exhales like she has finally found a place where she belongs.

ERIK LEHNSHERR (MAGNETO)

- Love has always been a dangerous thing for Erik. It is weakness, vulnerability—something that has been used against him too many times before. But you are different. You have always been different. You do not flinch from the sharp edges of him, from the darkness that lingers in his eyes. And that terrifies him more than anything.

- "I have lost too much already," he confesses, his voice low, rough. The two of you stand beneath the ruins of something long abandoned, a place Erik has brought you to without thinking, without realizing how much it means. He does not let people in, does not allow himself to want—but with you, want has become an inevitability.

- And then he kisses you. It is not gentle. It is not sweet. It is a claim, fierce and unyielding, filled with the kind of hunger that comes from a man who has spent his life fighting for something just out of reach. His hands grip your waist, his touch firm, possessive, as though trying to convince himself that you are real, that this moment is not something that will be ripped away like all the others.

- When he finally pulls away, his breathing is uneven, his gaze sharp as steel. "You should leave," he says, but his hands do not let go. And when you press your forehead against his, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat, Erik exhales—because for once in his life, he does not want to be alone.

CHARLES XAVIER (PROFESSOR X)

- Charles has always known the power of words. He wields them like a scalpel—precise, careful, capable of shaping the world with nothing more than the way they are spoken. But for all his eloquence, for all his careful consideration, he finds himself at a loss when it comes to you. There are no words vast enough to encapsulate the way he feels when he looks at you, no sentence that could hold the quiet reverence that settles in his chest whenever you are near.

- Tonight, the mansion is quiet, the hum of distant thoughts nothing more than a murmur in the back of his mind. You are seated beside him in the library, the warm glow of lamplight casting shadows across your face, and Charles cannot help but admire you as one might admire a great work of art. "You are always in my thoughts," he confesses, his voice as soft as the turning of a page. "Even when I try to quiet them."

- The admission hangs between you like something fragile, something waiting to be touched. And then, with a slowness that is almost agonizing, Charles reaches for you. His fingers brush against your cheek, a gentle caress, before he leans in. The kiss is hesitant at first, delicate, as though he is memorizing the feel of you in increments, but then it deepens—controlled, measured, but filled with something infinite. He is not a man prone to indulgence, but in this moment, he allows himself to want.

- When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. "You are the only thought I never wish to quiet," he murmurs, and in that moment, you realize Charles Xavier, for all his wisdom, has finally found something beyond the realm of his own understanding.

WANDA MAXIMOFF (SCARLET WITCH)

- Wanda has spent her life surrounded by chaos. It follows her like a shadow, whispering in the language of things broken and rewritten, of destinies unraveled and reshaped. But when she is with you, there is quiet. Not silence—never silence—but a kind of stillness she has never known before, as though the world itself pauses when you are near.

- The two of you stand in the remnants of twilight, the air thick with the scent of rain, the horizon streaked in shades of crimson and gold. Wanda’s fingers are entwined with yours, her grip hesitant, uncertain. "I don’t know what love is supposed to feel like," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I think—when I’m with you—it feels like something I don’t have to be afraid of."

- And then she kisses you. It is not tentative, nor is it rushed. It is deliberate, the kind of kiss that unravels something deep within, the kind that reshapes and remakes. Her hands cradle your face, her touch featherlight yet unyielding, as if afraid you might slip through her fingers like all the things she has lost. There is magic in it, something ancient and aching, something that feels like the bending of time itself.

- When she pulls back, her lips are parted, her breath unsteady. A flicker of red dances in her eyes, the remnants of something too vast to name. "Don’t let me become a ghost," she whispers. And when you pull her close again, when you press your lips to hers once more, you promise that she never will.

PIETRO MAXIMOFF (QUICKSILVER)

- Love has always been something fleeting for Pietro. He moves too fast, lives too fast, feels too much—always chasing, always running, as if afraid that if he stays still for too long, the world might catch up and swallow him whole. But with you, time slows. It bends in a way he never thought possible, as though the universe itself concedes to your presence, as though you are the one thing in this world worth pausing for.

- "I don’t do slow," he says, his voice laced with something teasing, something deflective—but there is honesty beneath it, a quiet confession hidden between syllables. The two of you sit on the rooftop of the mansion, the night air cool against your skin, the distant sounds of the city humming like a heartbeat. Pietro is never still, even now—his fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against his knee, his body humming with energy he cannot quite contain.

- And then, in a moment of stillness so rare it feels almost sacred, he leans in. The kiss is electric, filled with the kind of urgency that comes from a man who has spent his life moving at the speed of light. His hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, as if trying to memorize the shape of you, the feel of you, before the world inevitably pulls him away. It is messy, breathless, real—a collision rather than a meeting, an unstoppable force finally finding something worth stopping for.

- When he finally pulls back, his lips are curled into a smirk, but there is something soft in his expression, something unspoken. "You make me want to stay," he murmurs, and for the first time in his life, Pietro Maximoff does not feel the need to run.

HANK MCCOY (BEAST)

- Love has always been an intellectual thing for Hank. He understands it in theory, can dissect it like a scientist studying a phenomenon, can quote poetry and philosophy on its nature. But experiencing it? That is something else entirely. With you, it is not logical. It is not something he can quantify or analyze. It simply is.

- The two of you sit in his study, the air thick with the scent of old books and ink, the soft glow of candlelight casting golden hues across the room. Hank watches you from behind his glasses, his fingers curled around the spine of a worn-out novel, though he has long since abandoned the words on the page. "There is a passage in Shakespeare," he muses, his voice thoughtful, almost absent. "That speaks of love as an ever-fixed mark. Something that does not falter, even in the face of the storm."

- And then, as if compelled by something greater than reason, he reaches for you. The kiss is slow, unhurried, the kind of kiss that speaks in volumes unspoken. His hand cradles the back of your head, his touch reverent, almost disbelieving. It is a scholar studying the divine, a man who has spent his life in books finally understanding the very thing poets have written about for centuries.

- When he pulls away, his breath is uneven, his glasses slightly askew. He chuckles—warm, a little self-conscious—before resting his forehead against yours. "For once," he murmurs, a smile playing at the edges of his lips, "I find myself at a loss for words." And for Hank McCoy, that is perhaps the truest testament of love.

EMMA FROST (WHITE QUEEN)

- Emma Frost does not give her heart easily. She wears her love like she wears her diamonds—pristine, untouchable, something to be admired from a distance but never possessed. She has spent a lifetime fortifying herself against weakness, constructing walls of ice so thick that even the warmth of devotion could never hope to melt them. And yet, when she looks at you, she feels them crack, just a little, just enough to let the light in.

- The Hellfire Club is a gilded cage of smoke and opulence, but tonight, it is just you and her, the world reduced to the quiet hum of distant music and the press of your bodies too close to be innocent. “You make me reckless,” she murmurs, her voice honeyed, edged with something sharp, something dangerous. There is a challenge in her gaze, as if daring you to step closer, to be foolish enough to reach for something that others have burned trying to touch.

- And then, with the kind of certainty only Emma possesses, she leans in. The kiss is not soft; Emma Frost does nothing softly. It is precise, calculated, as if she is determining just how much of herself she is willing to give. But then—then—you respond, and she forgets all about restraint. Her hands fist in your clothing, pulling you against her, her lips parting against yours in something that feels like surrender, like the slow unraveling of the woman who has never allowed herself to want.

- When she pulls back, her breath is even, her expression unreadable. But there is something different in her eyes—something raw, something that should not exist in a woman who has spent her life perfecting the art of emotional detachment. "Tell anyone I did that first," she drawls, smoothing a hand over her pristine white attire, "and I’ll turn your mind inside out." But the way she looks at you after—the way her fingers linger against yours—is softer than any words she will allow herself to say.

LAURA KINNEY (X-23)

- Love has never been gentle for Laura. It has been ripped from her hands, shattered and rebuilt into something unrecognizable, turned into a weapon like everything else in her life. She does not trust easily, does not give affection freely, but you—you are something different. Something that doesn’t demand, doesn’t take, but simply waits. And that terrifies her.

- It happens in the aftermath of a fight, blood still drying on her knuckles, the air thick with the scent of adrenaline and gunpowder. You are close, too close, inspecting a wound on her arm that she doesn’t care about, but you do. "You’re bleeding," you murmur, and Laura doesn’t understand why those words make something in her chest hurt more than any wound ever could.

- And then, without warning, she kisses you. It is rough, almost desperate, her hands gripping the sides of your face as if trying to confirm that you are real, that this feeling—the way you look at her like she is more than the violence carved into her skin—is real. She does not know how to be soft, does not know how to ease into things gently, so she kisses you the way she fights: with everything she has, with an intensity that could break ribs.

- When she pulls away, she does not speak. Her breath is unsteady, her expression unreadable. But then she presses her forehead to yours, her fingers still curled around your collar, holding on as if she expects you to disappear. "If you leave," she finally murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, "I’ll find you." It is not a threat. It is a promise.

WADE WILSON (DEADPOOL)

- Wade Wilson falls too fast and too hard. He loves like he fights—messy, reckless, throwing himself in headfirst without caring if he’ll get hurt. He makes jokes because the silence is unbearable, because the thought of you looking at him too closely is enough to send him spiraling. But for all his bravado, for all his crass humor, Wade has never been kissed in a way that wasn’t a joke, a mistake, or a transaction. Until you.

- "Okay, so I’m about to do something really stupid," he announces, standing far too close in the neon glow of a shitty diner sign, the night air thick with the scent of grease and rain. "Like, really stupid. Stupid on a level that would make even Deadpool go, ‘Dude, bad idea.’ And that guy makes terrible life choices."

- And then, before you can say anything, he grabs you by the collar of your jacket and kisses you. It is not smooth, not elegant. It is Wade Wilson, which means it is all-in, no hesitation, no half-measures. His hands are shaking, but his lips are sure, as if he has been waiting for this for a lifetime, as if he is afraid that if he doesn’t kiss you now, he’ll never get the chance.

- When he pulls away, he is breathless, eyes searching yours as if waiting for the inevitable punchline, for the moment where you’ll laugh and tell him it was all a joke. But when you don’t—when you just look at him, like he is something worth holding onto—he lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "Holy shit," he mutters. "That was actually kinda romantic. Mark it down in history, babe. First time for everything."

CABLE (NATHAN SUMMERS)

- Nathan Summers is not a man accustomed to softness. His hands have known war for too long, his body a graveyard of scars from battles fought across time itself. He does not waste energy on things that are fleeting, does not allow himself to indulge in things he cannot keep. And yet, with you, all of that certainty wavers.

- It happens after a mission, the two of you holed up in some abandoned safe house, the air thick with the remnants of exhaustion and unspoken words. He is injured—nothing fatal, but enough to make you worry, enough to make you press a damp cloth to his temple with a tenderness he does not deserve. "You need to let people take care of you sometimes," you murmur, and Nathan exhales, something heavy settling in his chest.

- He does not speak. Does not offer some poetic declaration. Instead, he reaches for you, fingers rough against the smoothness of your jaw, and pulls you in. The kiss is slow, deliberate, as if he is trying to memorize the shape of you, the taste of you, before the world inevitably takes him away again. There is no desperation in it, only certainty—the kiss of a man who has seen the end of everything and still chooses to hold onto this, onto you.

- When he pulls back, he does not move far, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing steady despite the storm raging inside him. "I don’t know what happens next," he admits, voice low, rough. "But I know I’m not letting go." And when you kiss him again, you make sure he understands—he won’t have to.

COLOSSUS (PIOTR RASPUTIN)

- Piotr is careful, always careful. He holds back without realizing it, even when the world is falling apart. There is a gentleness in him, buried beneath the steel of his body, a softness that has nothing to do with flesh. He fears his own strength, fears the way his hands, built for war, could break something as delicate as love. And yet, when he looks at you, he wants—needs—to touch, to hold, to feel.

- The battlefield is quiet now, the fight won, though the ruins around you still smoke from the echoes of destruction. You are weary, dust clinging to your skin, but Piotr—Piotr is unyielding, a silver sentinel standing guard over you. He reaches out, fingers brushing your shoulder, and you feel the weight of it, the solidity, the way he is always there, always enduring. “Are you hurt?” His voice is deep, thick with the accent that makes his words sound like poetry.

- You shake your head, but his expression is still storm-dark with concern. And then, as if something inside him finally snaps, he kisses you. His lips are unrelenting, unyielding metal against the warmth of your mouth, yet it is the gentlest thing he has ever done. He does not pull you close—he is afraid of hurting you—but his hands hover, trembling, aching to hold, to claim, to love without fear of breaking.

- When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to yours, and for the first time, you feel the heat of him, even in his steel form. “I will be careful,” he promises, voice thick, barely more than a whisper. “But I will never hold back from you again.”

MAGIK (ILLYANA RASPUTINA)

- Illyana does not love easily. She has been carved from darkness, tempered in the heat of Limbo, sharpened into something lethal. Love is a weakness—or so she has always believed. But then there is you, and the way you see her, past the demons, past the blades, past the girl who spent too many years clawing her way through the dark. You make her feel human, and that terrifies her.

- You are standing at the edge of a summoning circle, watching as she mutters an incantation, her voice a low, rolling thing that feels like ancient power wrapped in velvet. “You are distracting me,” she accuses, though there is no real bite in her words. You smirk, unrepentant. “You like it,” you tease. Illyana narrows her eyes. “Do not push your luck.”

- And then, before you can react, she steps forward, seizes your collar, and kisses you. It is sharp, heated, a wildfire consuming the space between you. Illyana kisses like she fights—with precision, with confidence, with the knowledge that she is taking exactly what she wants. There is no hesitation, no fear, only the surety of someone who has walked through hell and come out the other side.

- When she finally pulls away, she lingers, her forehead pressing against yours, her breath warm against your lips. “You make me feel alive,” she murmurs, almost reluctant, almost as if admitting it gives you too much power over her. And then, with a smirk of her own, she adds, “Try not to let it go to your head.”

KITTY PRYDE (SHADOWCAT)

- Kitty has always been in motion, always slipping through things—walls, expectations, relationships that never seemed to stick. She is the girl who walks between worlds, never quite settling, never quite stopping. But with you, something is different. With you, she doesn’t want to run. She wants to stay.

- It happens in the quiet of the X-Mansion, long after the others have gone to bed. You are both sprawled on the couch, the glow of the TV flickering against the walls, some old movie playing that neither of you are paying attention to. Kitty is curled up beside you, her head resting against your shoulder, and you feel her exhale, long and slow, as if breathing you in.

- Then, without warning, she phases through you—just enough to shift, just enough to turn, just enough to press her lips to yours in one smooth, effortless motion. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant, but there is something fierce beneath it, something hungry, something that says finally. She doesn’t move away. Doesn’t disappear. She stays, fingers tangled in your collar, grounding herself in you as if anchoring herself to something real.

- When she pulls back, she grins, breathless, eyes bright. “Guess I finally figured out how to stop running,” she murmurs. And this time, when she kisses you again, it is certain.

MORPH (KEVIN SYDNEY)

- With Morph, love is never boring. He is laughter in the middle of a crisis, mischief hidden behind a smile, a shapeshifter who wears a thousand faces but only one when he looks at you. He is always changing, always adapting, but his feelings for you? Those are the one thing he has never wanted to change.

- You are in the middle of an argument—not a real one, not the kind with anger or pain, but the kind that is all teasing and playful jabs. “I totally won that fight,” he declares, arms crossed over his chest. You arch a brow. “You got thrown into a dumpster.” Morph smirks. “And I made it look good.”

- Then, without warning, he shifts—his features morphing, softening, contorting into your own face. “See?” he teases, voice now identical to yours. “How could you be mad at this?” And then, still wearing your face, he leans in and kisses you. The sensation is strange, uncanny, like kissing your own reflection, and yet—it’s him. You can feel it in the way his lips curve into a smirk, in the way his fingers curl around your wrist.

- When he pulls back, he shifts back into himself, grinning wide. “Was that weird? That was probably weird. But romantic weird, right?” You shake your head, laughing, and he grins. “Good. Because I’m totally doing it again.”

[dinogoofymutated]

Kissin and shit - Morph, Colossus, Gambit, Quicksilver. Heehee. here they be! I might or might not do more. It really depends bc I'm doing these as a writing exercise more than anything lol. TWS: Alcohol consumption mentioned, lots of overly enthusiastic smooching. Sexual references but no smut.

Morph

    “I love you- I love you so, so much” Morph doesn't have a minute to reply to you as you kiss them senselessly. Every once in a while when you separate to breathe, they try to speak, only for you to interrupt them with more kisses each time. Morph hums in a confused but happy sort of way. You’ve basically thrown yourself onto them, kissing them again and again until they loose their balance and the two of you topple backwards. The moment you realise you’re falling your hands slide behind their head to cushion the fall, and after a wide-eyed moment of shock both of you are laughing.

    You kiss all over their face, eyelids, cheeks, that little bump where their nose would be- and you don’t stop even as they start to fully fall victim to their laughter. God- did you love that sound! You catch their lips in a kiss again, and they hum in appreciation, panting when you finally pull away with a genuine smile on their face.

    “Not sure what I did to deserve that, but can you tell me so I can do it again?”

Colossus

    Piotr is struggling to keep up with your fiery, passionate kisses. He’s just a quiet as he always is, but you can feel his chest heaving against your own. His breath hitches as you drag your teeth across his bottom lip, before moving your kisses down his neck. You’re gentle with your kisses and nips- lavishing him with all of your love. He’s still silent, not a sound leaving his mouth, but you can feel his large hands squeeze around you just slightly. 

    “Piotr? Are you okay?” You ask when you finally pull away. He’s more red than you’ve ever seen him before, flushed from his ears and all the way down his neck. He doesn’t respond to you at first, his blown pupils looking back and fourth from your lips to your eyes a he fights the urge to pull you closer and kiss you until the next morning. 

    “Yes… Yes. More than okay.”

Gambit

    “You’re so drunk.” You giggle, hands buried in Remy’s hair before he pulls you into another drunken kiss. They’re wet, messy, and sloppy kisses, but you can’t seem to get enough of them. You can taste the alcohol on his toungue as it slides against your own, feeling the slight sting of the taste.

    “Pot callin’ the kettle black, Cher. You’re just as drunk as I am.” Remy chuckles, having pulled away for just a split second before you reel him back in again, your skin buzzing with delight from the feeling of his body against yours. His hands drift down to your thighs before he’s hiking one up against his hip.

    So what if you were both a little drunk? To be honest, even if you were sober, you knew that the two of you would still have ended up in the same place you are now- smoochin.

Quicksilver

    “We really need to get going.” You say, and yet you’re still kissing Pietro, holding onto his tie that he hadn’t even been able to put on before the two of you had gotten carried away. He snorts a laugh against your lips, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist in a split second, his lips hardly leaving yours the entire time.

    “To what? Father’s stupid gala? We have plenty of time.” Pietro sighs, pressing his forehead against your own, pretty, white lashes resting against his cheekbones with his eyes still closed. “I’ll just zip us over when we’re done.” He says, walking you over to your desk where he sets you down- french kissing you the entire way there. You hardly have time to pull away and breathe to respond to him.

     “Believe me, Speedy, if we don’t get going, we’re going to be here all night.”

[librababe99]

Kinktober Day Nine: Piotr Rasputin

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x Female Reader  | Thigh Riding | 

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Female Reader, Thigh Riding 

WC: 977 

A/N: I’m going to be so real with y’all I’m a sucker for accents and there is something about Piotr that makes me swoon! I just need to be held by him😩

| Day Eight |  | Kinktober Masterlist |  |  Day Ten |

Translations: "Solnishka moya" - My little sunshine ; "Lyubov moya" - My love

The night was quiet, the kind of silence that wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket. For the first time in what felt like forever, the mansion was empty, leaving you and Piotr alone. Just the two of you. No missions, no teammates, no interruptions. The peace felt almost foreign after so much chaos, but the moment you were together, it felt like everything clicked into place.

You sat straddling Piotr’s lap, your knees pressing into the soft cushions of the couch beneath you, while his large hands rested on your hips, holding you steady. He was impossibly big beneath you, his body dwarfing yours in a way that made you feel safe and consumed all at once. His gaze, those deep blue eyes dark with desire, had been fixed on you for what felt like an eternity before he finally pulled you down into a kiss.

It started slow at first, sweet and soft, his lips gently brushing against yours, but it didn’t take long for the heat between you to ignite. The kiss quickly deepened, his hands tightening on your waist, pulling you closer as your tongues tangled. A soft moan escaped you as your body pressed against his, your hands sliding up his broad chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. Piotr groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

The sensation of his lips on yours, the feel of his body beneath you, it was intoxicating. Every time you were with him, it felt like you could get lost in him—like nothing else in the world existed except for the two of you. And tonight, you wanted more. Needed more.

As your hands wandered over his chest, exploring every inch of him, your hips instinctively shifted in his lap. The friction between your core and his solid thigh was maddening, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You gasped, breaking the kiss for a moment as your forehead pressed against his, your breath coming in soft, needy pants.

Piotr’s grip tightened on your waist as he felt the way your body rocked against him, his own breath coming out in a low growl. “Do you want this, lyubov moya?” His voice was husky, his accent thick with desire, and the way he looked at you, the pure hunger in his eyes, made your heart race.

You nodded, unable to form words for a moment, your body trembling with anticipation. “I need you, Piotr,” you whispered, your voice breathless, your hands moving up to cup his face as you kissed him again, harder this time, more desperate.

His hands roamed over your body, sliding up your sides, under your shirt, the heat of his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin. You arched into his touch, your hips grinding down against his thigh, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing deliciously against the thin fabric of your pants. The pressure against your core was enough to make you moan into his mouth, your body moving on its own now, seeking more friction, more heat, more of him.

You could feel how much he wanted you too, the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, but for now, all you could think about was the way his thigh felt between your legs. The way it flexed under you, his muscles hard and unyielding, giving you exactly what you needed.

You broke the kiss, throwing your head back as you rocked your hips more insistently, chasing that rising pleasure that was building deep inside you. “Piotr…” His name left your lips in a breathless moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as you clung to him.

He groaned again, his hands gripping your hips harder, guiding your movements as you rutted against him, his thigh pressing up into you in all the right ways. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as he watched you lose yourself on top of him. “I want to give you everything, solnishka moya.”

Your body was burning, your heart pounding as the tension built higher and higher inside you, your hips grinding faster against his thigh. Every brush of fabric against your core, every flex of his muscle beneath you, sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you. You were so close, so desperate for release, and Piotr was right there, watching you with an intensity that made your head spin.

“Piotr,” you gasped, your body trembling as you felt the edge of your climax approaching. “I… I’m going to…”

His lips were on your neck now, kissing, nipping at your skin, his hands still guiding your hips as you rode out the pleasure. “Let go,” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through you. “I’ve got you.”

That was all it took. With a cry, you came undone, your body shaking as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, your hips stuttering against his thigh as you reached your peak. You clung to him, your hands fisting in his shirt as you rode out the intense pleasure, every nerve in your body alight with sensation.

Piotr held you through it, his hands gentle now, his lips pressing soft kisses along your neck and shoulders as you slowly came down from your high. When your breathing finally steadied, you collapsed against his chest, your body spent but utterly satisfied.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his large hand stroking your hair as you lay there in his arms. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth and affection as he kissed the top of your head. You smiled, your heart still racing as you pressed a soft kiss to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. 

Taglist: @strawbearymishake @iloved1lfs0 @lovemaildumpsterfire @nyxoneiros @chaoticweirdogeek @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @superstar-lover863-blog @Therealnekomari @ahreumnim @dindjarins04

[mikyapixie]

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧 & 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 #𝟒𝟎 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬!!

[awkward-walking-potato]

Idk if you write for Colossus (but this could also work for Hank and Kurt :p)

But if you can can you please write a fic where the reader has like a shark mutation (and they have scales on their body) and they flirt with Colossus (or anyone else) by saying something like “our mutations would make a pretty cool baby”. Idk but ur goated if you do this!!!!

Steel and Scales

You stood by the training area of the X-Mansion, your shark-like mutation making you stand out even among mutants. The scales that covered parts of your body shimmered faintly under the fluorescent lights, tough and strong, much like the armor of one certain X-Man you couldn’t stop thinking about: Colossus.

Piotr "Colossus" Rasputin was working through his training routine, his metallic skin gleaming as he lifted weights that would have crushed a normal person. You admired his strength, but it wasn’t just his physicality that drew you in. He had a gentle nature, something that contrasted with your more rugged mutation. You’d often wondered what it would be like to get closer to him, and today… well, today you felt bold.

As Piotr finished his set and moved to grab a towel, you sauntered over, your scales catching the light as you flashed him a teasing smile.

“Hey, big guy,” you greeted him, watching his brow arch slightly as he looked down at you.

“Ah, [Y/N],” he said warmly, his Russian accent adding an extra layer of charm to his deep voice. “How are you today?”

You glanced at his metallic form, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh, you know, just thinking about how our mutations would make a pretty cool baby.”

Piotr’s eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting that, before a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He looked down at you, his towering frame almost completely obscuring the light overhead. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice amused but kind.

You shrugged playfully. “Think about it. Metal armor mixed with shark scales? We’d have a super tough kid. And don’t get me started on the strength.”

Piotr’s expression softened, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That would be... a very unique combination, да."

He seemed a little flustered, but that only made your grin widen. "See, now you're thinking about it," you teased, nudging his side lightly. "Maybe I should let you take me out sometime, and we can see where this mutation blending idea goes?"

For a moment, Piotr seemed to consider your words, his smile growing a little wider. "You are very... forward, [Y/N]. But I appreciate your boldness."

“I know what I want, Piotr,” you said, your tone softer now but still playful. “And I don’t mind going after it.”

He looked down at you with a mix of admiration and amusement. "In that case, perhaps we can talk more... over dinner?"

You raised an eyebrow. “Dinner, huh? Sounds like a date.”

Piotr smiled warmly, his metallic form shimmering under the lights. “Yes, I believe it does.”

You smirked, your confidence unwavering. “Who knows? Maybe our first date will go so well we’ll have to start planning that mutant baby sooner than we thought.”

Piotr chuckled again, shaking his head fondly. “You are quite the charmer, [Y/N]. But let us take things one step at a time, yes?”

You winked, turning to walk away but throwing a playful look over your shoulder. “Sure, big guy. One step at a time.”

[esteemedproblem]

Colossus Kisscanons

I genuinely don't know why I'm doing him next he wasn't even on my to do list I just got inspired (I've only ever seen him in deadpool 2 I'm sorry)

+ Kisses might be one of his favorite ways to receive affection just because he finds it amusing how much you want to kiss metal but he's happy for it

+ Laughs very softly at kiss attacks and will hold you so gently afterwards will foreheads resting against each other

+ Likes all face kisses the most, lip, cheek, forehead etc classic kiss spots and will always get a sweet smile from him

+ Doesn't mind but thinks hand kisses are kind of weird he won't stop you but he will just look at you like ??

+ Will never admit to you how much he loves body kisses, up his arms, his chest, against his metal spine he gets so flustered and tells you to quit it and even if it's completely innocent he will tell you not to do such lewd things in public and gently shove you away from him. He simply just can't think anymore after them.

+ Is against friend kisses he just doesn't think friends should kiss it doesn't make sense to him to kiss people he isn't in some sort of partnership with crying sobbing