#i am overwhelmed with the amount of plot lines shoved in my brain right now

[kt-says-stuff]

i’ve read so much fanfiction in the past month i don’t know who i am anymore. i’ve read all the completed rwrb fics, every drarry one that looks good, multiple merlin fics, and even some priory. i am simply a vessel for fandom knowledge. i have no other purpose and i want no other purpose

[kanene-yaaay]

Full of Life

Random Notes: This fanfic contains Cheer Up Tickles, Mouth Tickles, Rapberries, Tickly Kisses, Gang Up Tickles, Nice Nicknames, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and the power of friendship. This fic is about 3.000 words. This fic is Lee!Patton with Ler!Logan and Ler!Roman with also implied Lee!Logan. Virgil is mentioned. I did not prrofreaded this yet :’v.

Kanene’s Notes: Heya!! Holy gosh, I started this fic with a very clear direction in mind and then proceeded to ignore it xDD. Gosh, I literally forgot how natural writing can feel. I hope you have as fun reading this as I did writing it. <3

[~*~]

Patton was not sure how Logan knew about the Blanket Rule, but he did. Maybe they talked about this one day.

 About how, when Patton opened Logan's door and immediately went to hide under the grey comforter of his friend's room, that meant he didn't want any kind of contact. No touches. No words. No acknowledgment.

 And Logan respected that. He was just so good like that.

 Actually, in Patton's opinion, Logan was amazingly good at a handful of things, but especially in dealing with sad days.

 They didn't expect sad days to go as smoothly as they did in each others' company, but now that they lived through tough and hard moments, it really couldn't go any other way.

 Logan, for his part, didn't know how to comfort and preferred the silence instead of the possibility of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the person further, obligating him to deal with things he hardly understood, such as feelings. And, in Patton's turn, he would rather cry and let himself feel all the bad emotions far away from any judgmental eyes or unsolicited advices.

 Now, Patton wasn't really sure what he had to offer on Logan's Bad Days, but the other confirmed that he helped with such certainty and unavoidable security that it left no other options than trusting on his words.

 Patton trusted him. A lot.

 The cat lover mused this sentence on his brain, trying to focus better on his senses than the overwhelming thoughts that fought desperately for his attention. It was also good that Logan's house wasn't the quietest, too. Above the heat that started to bring his mind to the present and to the now, Patton could hear the sound of Roman in the kitchen, talking fiercely on the phone, hitting by accident - between curses and 'Who the hell put this here?' - cabinets, pans and bouncy containers.

 He chuckled. It was a low sound, barely there.

 But still.

There was also the quiet sound of Logan moving the books and cups from his table, turning on his computer and typing.

 Also, there were cars passing outside. Cars filled with people and sometimes even pets. There were purring cats and lazy dogs and families out there. Stars and fireflies and kids laughing because their parents finally gave in and bought them ice cream before dinner. There was the wind ruffling someone else's hair, a parrot learning new words and an old couple enjoying a cup of coffee on a low night who could, as well, be found outside.

 There was so much life outside.

 His hand touched his chest and Patton felt his heartbeats and the way his torso would go up and down at every breath. The way the comforter squished under his fingers in a feeling of soft and secure and...

 There was life inside too.

 There was a vivid life in the way Logan put one of their favorite movies, letting the opening to fly unashamed across the room in a silent invitation.

 There was life in the way Patton knew that, the moment he opened the door, the smell of baked goodies would fill his senses and his heart.

 And in the way the stars kept their light and the planets their rotation and meteors continued to fly around that gigantic amount of things we call the Universe, as if nothing else really mattered.

 And...

 And maybe that was true.

 Maybe, while the stars were in the sky, the cats continued to purr, a child kept bothering their parents for a snack and best friends kept caring about you during your bad days...

  Maybe then nothing else mattered.

 Patton pushed the blanket away from him, taking a deep breath. 

 It was much less stuffy outside.

 "Logan." The other turned in his direction immediately, fondly scoffing when he found the other making grabby hands in his direction. A couple of seconds later his hoodie was flying across the room and falling from Patton's awaiting arms, since his skill of catching things was still a work in progress.

 After a few seconds and a couple more, Patton found himself melting on his friend's half hug, watching the movie - which had to be played again from the beginning, since when Patton arrived it was already in the middle of the plot’s clímax, but neither commented on it - and barely jumping on the bean bag when Roman opened the door with no discretion.

 "If that is a sad movie that I hear I will slay you all. Except for you, Patty Cake, I will fight for you." He came in, phone still pressed between his shoulder and ear, his hands too occupied in not letting the bows full of cookies, popcorn, chocolate and a lonely pot of ice cream to fall. He lightly hit Patton's thigh with his foot. "Move, I'm gay."

 "Hi gay, I’m Patton." He chuckled, that time it sounded a bit stronger.

 "We are not eating this absurd amount of sugar." Logan replied, profusely ignoring Patton's pun.

 "Thank you for your input, Microsoft Nerd." Roman answered with a joyful, fake tune, totally unfazed by Logan's half not-amused and half but-also-not-surprised stare. "If you have any complaints in regards to the attendant's service we ask for you to fill a complaint form that will be carefully read by our team, who will do their best to apply the necessary changes in a near future. Roman's company-" a loud gasp cut his words when Logan forcefully grabbed one bowl and took part of the cookies and chocolates inside it. "Hey! This is mine!"

 "No, this is Virgil's. He won't be able to come for our movie night so he asked us to keep some food for him."

 "Do you think if we watch more movies we will be able to wait for him to come back?" Patton questioned.

 "I can't say for certain since I am not sure how long his date will be."

 Roman snorted. "If I taught him well, he is not coming for tonight. Gotta enjoy the-" Patton shoved a cookie on Roman's face, successfully stopping his sentence.

 "Nope!" He smiled, now proceeding to shove a cookie on his own mouth before trying to give Logan the same treatment, pouting when he saw that the other was already munching a sweet, eyeing him warily. He unpaused the movie. "He is my baby brother and I'm not thinking about that!"

 The movie night started quiet. For today, quiet was more than nice to Patton.

 Then, in the part when the protagonist learned that there was magic in her world, Logan grabbed his hand and started to trace lightly, in slow shapes all the way over the lines across his palm, his fingers sometimes traveling to his pulse and forearm in a few swirls before going back to the previous spot. A small, however permanent smile began to gleam on Patton’s face.

 He knew this was going to happen. Logan was one of his first friends who discovered his liking for tickling somewhere on the beginning of their journey to their friendship, as well as how comforting that activity could be for him.

 A faint blush still dotted his cheeks when he thought about that. Today was not an exception, the soft touches made butterflies wiggle their wings in excitement on his tummy, a wobbly tune taking over his smile, especially when he saw Logan’s slight grin at his quiet reactions.

 Patton glued his eyes on the screen, refusing to acknowledge his friend’s antics, which led to a yelp escaping from his barriers when a hand rested on his side, pulling him closer to the half hug and sneaking a couple of pokes on the ticklish spot.

 “You good, Pat?” Roman quirked an eyebrow in his direction and Patton felt his face get hottier, giggles beginning to bubble in his throat when the pokes evolved to a drag of fingers that went up to his ribs and then down, back to his hips, blunt nails spiraling and teasing carefully the sensitive skin. He did his best to not squeal and squirm away.

 “Yes! I aham.” He beamed, trying to dislodge the walking tickles and dissipate the giddy energy spreading across his nerves. “I just really like this sce-eene!”

 Logan hummed innocently under Patton’s pout thrown in his direction, as if didn’t just squeeze his side right when he was talking. “I believe it’s an important scene for the plot, yes.”

  Roman squinted his eyes at the screen. "She's literally just asleep.”

 “Yeah!” Patton giggled, scrunching his nose as he did so. “I think that part is very-” Logan decided that was a very good time to concentrate his efforts on prodding and exploring every single ticklish inch of his right lowest rib, knowing very well each weak spot and wasting not a single effort to put his best friend in stitches. Patton felt his resolve break, uncontrollable titters pouring from his lips. “Funny!” He squealed. “Very, very funny!”

 “Really, can you explain why you think that, please?”

 “Logan!”

 “I am merely curious to understand your concept of humor, Patton.” Logan mused, finally letting go of his hand to attack his sides, making the cat lover to clap his hands on his mouth, hiding the snorts who were trying to fly from his lips. “Maybe I will even start to see why you’re so adamant on making so many puns on your daily basis.”

 Patton shook his head, giving up from trying to not react to his friend’s attack in order to wiggle away from his curious hands and silly scribbly fingers. Sadly, he ended up making the mistake of turning his back to Roman, who, watching the whole ordeal, let a devilish smirk take over his face.

 Before Patton could even protest against Logan’s words, two arms hugged him from bei, hands squirming to rest, in a mock of safety, on his armpits. “Hey, Specs, guess what!”

 “No! Roman!” Patton squeaked, kicking at the feeling of one more attack concentrated on another ticklish spot, crackles beginning to paint his laughter here and there as Roman’s fingers began to tease the skin, his thumbs just barely twitching on the place, fingers clawing at his high ribs. “No, no, please!”

 “Yes, Roman?” Logan answered, using the opportunity to give the other a break and stop his tickling.

 “You know what I realized? That Patty Cake here,” Patton’s giggles only got higher when Roman decided to nuzzle his neck, words coming out muffled as they hit the sensitive skin. “Who has the purest, sweetest dazzling smile, haven’t told us how amazing he is today.”

 “Nonono, please not this! Not this!” Patton turned to Logan, who was the more susceptible and within his field of view. He put the best puppy eyes he could muster through his giggles and uncontrollable titters that still fell from his lips. “Lo-lo,” he pouted in order to give his face a stronger power. Logan stared at him as a deed caught in the light. “Plehehea- nahaha!” A shriek flew from his mouth. “Roman, not fair!”

 Roman smirked, dramatically preparing himself for another raspberry.

 “Don’t even think about using your evil Puppy Eyes on our defenseless Microsoft Nerd!” He drowned Logan’s protest by making Patton shriek with another attack. Peals of loud laughter filled the room when he decided to release smaller raspberries, traveling from one side to other of the cat lover’s neck.

“Anyway,” Logan ruffed, concentrating a sea of squeezes on Patton’s knees as a revenge, relishing in the way his blush travelled over all his face when snorts and squeals began to become more and more frequent. “You were talking about making Patton tell us something?”

“Oh, yeah! I was thinking about being really nice today, since our dear Laffy Taffy Patty looks a bit tired.” As the words came out of his mouth, Roman changed his technique to something softer, watching amused as Patton wiggled non when he decided to drag his fingers on his sides, scribbling them to his chin - and, of course, resting a couple of kisses on his neck, he wasn’t a monster - and them tapping his way down, this time choosing to give a bit of attention to his shaky tummy. “So we could just make him admit something small and simple, really! You won’t even notice when the words come out, dear!” He changed his attention to the victim on his arms, hugging him close and nuzzling him.

“Please! Not there, not there!!” Patton tried to dislodge the other’s tickly affection from his ears and neck, but being constantly distracted by Logan, who kept sneaking horribly, unbearable scratches to the sensitive skin under his knees everytime he stopped trying to pry his hands from his legs. “I wihihill give you my cohohokies! All of them! Plehehease.”

“That is very kind of you, Patton. However, I think it isn’t very polite of you to interrupt Roman like that.” Logan tsked, now letting  go of both his knees to concentrate his efforts in tormenting the weak spots of just one. “Please, I do ask for you to refrain from laughing about such a serious matter. I can almost believe you’re not taking your cheering up as seriously as we are.”

“I am! I am!!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because you-” he snorted, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “You are t-tickling me!”

Logan’s eyes lit up with mischief, a playful wink being thrown at Roman’s direction before he returned his gaze to the previously-sad friend. “I can guarantee you I am not.” 

“Falsehohohood!”

“Very well.” The one with an unicorn onesie lifted his arms, crossing them on his chest just as the other attacker also stopped his tickling. “See? I am not even touching you. And yet you’re still giggling yourself silly as, ah, Roman would say.”

Patton clamped his mouth shut, trying to keep the remainescent giggles trapped on his chest, a slight feeling of dejavu hitting him. He shook his head.

“No? You’re not a Smiley Laffy Taffy, you say?”

“Stop stealing my sweet nicknames!”

Just as the one with a big, truly gigantic smile would shake his head again, his giggling actually being subdued, Roman decided that was just the perfect moment to vibrate his hands on his lower stomach, his barrier crumbling, again, in a matter of seconds.

“Roman!”

“I see.” Logan mused, in between Patton’s high pitched squeaks when the other failed to cease his attack. “So, you're a serious case of Giggle Bug.”

“Am not!” He cried in protest, holding Roman’s pulse, not really trying to push it away.

“Oh, no!” Roman dramatically cried, fishing more laughter from the puppy lover. “What are we going to do Patton? Are we doomed to hear your cute, amazing giggly giggles and delightful laughter forever and ever and ever? What shall we do, Specs?”

Logan sighs, deep and serious, adjusting his glasses. “I fear there is nothing we can do except mitigate this unfortunate situation. As you can see…” Logan poked Patton’s torso, prodding some of the most ticklish ribs with a tiny, soft smile when the other bounced around, happy yelps pouring from his lips. He cleaned his throat, going back to the character. “This ribcage is full of all sorts of trapped squeals, snorts, squeaks, titters and giggles. As Patton’s friends, we must free them all to help him.”

“Crofters!” Patton suddenly blurted out, his laughter almost making the words untelligible. “I will tell you where Ro-ro keeps his Crof-nahahaha!” Patton squirmed when Roman kneaded his hips, a mischief glint still present on his smile. “Rohohoman!”

“Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!” The one with red pajamas protested with a betrayed shriek. “Patton! After all the adventures we had gone through, after accepting you in my family as a brother, how could you do that to me? Oh, jail for friend! Jail for the Giggle Bug for one thousand of years!”

“I am sorry! I am very sahahaharrey!” Patton’s eyes widened when he saw Roman form a claw with his both hands, slowly descending them to his belly. “Waitwaitwait! Ro! Ro-ro! Ple-please!”

“No can do, Patty Cake.” Roman sighed in faux sadness, wiggling his fingers for a good effect. “Now I have no alternative except having to getcha, getcha, getcha! Your yummy tummy is all mine, now. ~”

But then nothing happened.

Roman’s hands stopped, leaving a puddle of giggly Patton to basically melt more in his embrace, lost in titters and phantom tickles.

“Oh,” Roman said, carefully, the tune of his voice making a shiver run across Logan’s spine. “Hello, Logan.”

Logan accepted his fate, trying another experimental squeeze at the dramatic friend’s side and receiving, just like his first try a few seconds ago, no reaction. He sighed. “I presume you’re not ticklish on your sides, then.”

“And I presume it just takes the mention of Crofters to make you turn the tables.” Roman gave Patton a last quick kiss on his neck, gaining another happy giggle before ruffling his hair. “Excuse me, Giggly Bug, it seems like our dear Blushy Bear is craving for a bit of my tickly attention right now.”

Patton hugged his sides, smile shiny as the sun, the clouds which previously assaulted him haven been already disappeared for a long time, now. His gleaming eyes glued on Logan, smile widening when he remembered he was the one who started everything.

“Get him, Ro-ro!”

And, as pleas and teases felt the air, Patton took another deep breath, letting his friends have some fun before he turned the tables at Roman, since he also deserved some good, nice tickles for being such a caring friend. Soon enough Logan’s laughter rang across the room and Patton only smiled wider.

Full of life, indeed.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Ice Cream Date

Pairing: Midoriya (Deku) x reader

Warnings: A little bit of hopelessness in the first bit, but otherwise nothing

So this is just a quick little Izuku drabble for a sad and down reader. Just a bit more fluff to hopefully pick up your day a bit and gain some broccoli boi content from me (finally)!

Enjoy!

-Sugar

══════════════ *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ══════════════

You sat at the desk in your room, a heavy feeling pressed around you. Nothing all too specifically was wrong, you simply felt . . . blah. Scrolling through as many feeds and windows on your laptop as your flighty yet sluggish brain could think of, you attempted to pass the time until you could finally just go to bed and end this day.

You had been sitting for too long. You just knew it. Maybe getting up and walking around would make you feel better, but the heaviness only seemed to worsen at the thought, stubbornly pressing you more into your seat. Things that you could do floated around in your head, only to be quickly replaced by your brain nagging you about things you probably should be doing. You internally growled and laid your head on your desk, willing yourself to just get something productive done. Maybe that would make you feel better.

You opened a paper that you needed to have finished by next week. Words hastily jotted down from a few nights ago taunted you, your brain stubbornly refusing to offer anything helpful to add on. You tried forcing something out of you, only to instantly delete it. Ugh. Maybe taking a nap would work?

You pried yourself out of your chair and switched off the lights, flopping onto your bed in defeat. The darkness wasn't helping and the silence and lack of distraction only allowed for more intrusive thoughts and anxieties to cloud your mind.

A knock at your door interrupted your spiraling stupor. You let out an exaggerated groan to signal to the person on the other side that they could come in.

"(Y/N)?" Your dorm room door hesitantly clicked and swung open, just enough for someone to peek inside. Already having a good guess as to who it was, you rolled over and lifted your head only to confirm that it was, in fact, Izuku Midoriya who was looking in on you.

"Hi," you greeted, internally wincing at how bored and uninterested you sounded.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Sure."

Izuku slipped in, shutting the door behind him and plunging the room back into its previous darkness. "Are you doing okay?" He reached a hand down to stroke gently over your cheek, concern lacing his features.

You reached up to cover his hand with yours, sighing. "Not really."

Izuku suddenly gave you a saddened look, almost worried. "Is something wrong?"

"Not quite," you said. "Just having one of those days."

"Oh." Izuku sucked his lip between his teeth, giving it a small nibble. "Do you want a hug?"

"Sure." You moved over so he could slide in behind you, pulling you into his strong arms so your back pressed against his chest.

"Is there anything in particular you need?" he asked, eyes closed as he brushed his nose over your cheek.

"Not really," you said. "This is nice, though. Thank you."

He hummed, reaching up to run a hand through your hair. "I actually came in here to ask you something," he said softly.

"Oh?"

"Do you want to go out on a date with me? Just to go get ice cream or something? There's that place a few blocks away."

You allowed yourself a small smile. That would be a perfect opportunity to pick you up out of this slump you had gotten yourself into. "That sounds great."

The two of you sat and cuddled for a moment longer before finally getting up. You adjusted yourself in the mirror before turning to go, taking Izuku's arm and giving him a kiss on the cheek as he led you out the door.

You walked side by side, arm in arm. The air was fresh, and you could already feel the effect it had on your state. You found your steps growing a little springier, and you rested your cheek on Izuku's shoulder.

He smiled down at you. "You seem like you're feeling better already," he pointed out.

"Yeah. I think I just needed an excuse to get out of the dorms."

It wasn't long before you reached a cute little ice cream parlor. You'd been there before; it was a popular hang out destination among the U.A. students. You'd gone with both friends and your boyfriend alike, and you anticipated this new pending visit.

Izuku smiled and held the door open for you like the gentleman he was, bell tinkling on the frame as it opened. You smiled and thanked him as you stepped in, the familiar smell of freezers and sweet cream flooding your nose. The two of you walked up to the counter where a single employee stood. There was no line, so she allowed you to stand in front of the display as you decided on a flavor.

Izuku held your hand and leaned over to speak in your ear. "Do you want to get something together to share?"

You smiled and nodded, a faint blush heating your cheeks. "What flavor do you want?"

"How about mint? Chocolate chip?" He pointed to the green tub, flecked with brown bits of chocolate. (If y'all don't like mint choco chip, first off, get out, second, go ahead and change it to whatever you want, I don't care. I just ... idk, its green like his hair ... whatever.)

"That sounds great."

He called the employee lady over and asked for a bowl, the two of you watching as she scooped out some of the ice cream. You asked for your favorite toppings on your half and Izuku requested his. The woman before you plunged two spoons into the neatly arranged scoops, grinning slyly at you and your boyfriend as she slid it to you.

You flushed and averted your eyes as Izuku paid, taking his change and the receipt and shoving them into his pocket. He picked up the bowl and let you lead him to your favorite table. It was right next to a window and you could see the street perfectly. There was always the option to people-watch as others went about their way; some in groups, others alone, each one going about their day in their own unique manner.

Today, however, you were more interested in the green-haired boy who had settled himself across from you. You leaned forward and brought your spoon from its place wedged in the ice cream, taking a small amount to your mouth and allowing it to slip between your lips. You studied Izuku as he did the same, savoring the sweet taste on his tongue.

He struck up a conversation with you, chatting about a particular move he was working on. You listened intently, adding appropriate 'hm's and 'ooh's between licks of ice cream off your spoon. You noticed his eyes start to grow distant as he started plotting out a new strategy, his voice lowering into an ever quickening mutter.

You smiled at his hushed, sped up talking, finding it utterly adorable. You were more or less able to follow along with his thought pattern, but you knew what could happen if you let him mutter to himself for too long. You dipped your spoon in the melting dollup of whipped cream and tapped his nose with it, a little white daub left behind on the tip of his freckled nose.

His eyes fluttered and blinked at the sudden, cold sensation of it. Izuku straightened, finally looking back into your grinning face. "I was muttering again, wasn't I?" he asked sheepishly, a little flustered blush materializing on his cheeks.

"It's really cute," you said, your (E/C) eyes twinkling at him.

He wiped the cream off with his finger and stuck it into his mouth. A small part of you regretted that you were too far away to kiss it off him, but tender nose kisses could always be had later.

Izuku asked you again what had been going on with you when he'd walked into your room earlier, and you went on a rant of your own on how you'd been feeling overwhelmed lately.

"You could have asked me for help, you know," he said once you were done, placing his spoon in the now-empty bowl.

"Yeah . . . ," you said, tapping a finger on the table. "I was just hoping I would be able to get something done without bothering you."

"You wouldn't have been bothering me. I like working with you." Izuku reached for your hand on the table and pulled it into the center, letting his scarred and calloused fingers caress yours. "We can work in my room when we get back if you want."

"That sounds good." You flipped your hand so you could comfortably rub your thumb against Izuku's, taking over for him. The two of you watched out the window for a moment, noticing how the sun had begun to sink lower in the sky.

"Want to get headed back?" Izuku finally asked.

"Sure."

You both stood and he took the empty bowl, setting it in the stack with the others on top of a waste bin. He took your hand again and walked you out of the shop, waving to the woman behind the counter as you left. You both swung your joined arms as you walked back, giddily grinning at how your fingers stayed firmly intertwined between you.

"Thanks for rescuing me," you said.

"What?"

"I probably would be waking up from one of my depression naps right now if it wasn't for you," you said. "Thanks."

"No problem."

You walked all the way back to his room.

"Is there anything you need to get?" Izuku asked as you stood in front of his door.

You bit your lip, not wanting to get into the elevator to take you back to your room to grab your laptop. "Maybe in a little bit. Is it okay if we take a break for just a little longer?"

He broke into a smile, the signature, heart-liquefying sunshine smile of his. "Of course."

Izuku took you into his room, pulling you onto the bed and into his arms, just like he had in your room an hour before. Except this time, the heaviness had been lifted. This time, the fog that had plagued your mind had dissipated. Izuku knew exactly what it took to pull you out of a slump and back into a brighter bliss, and you couldn't be more grateful.

══════════════ *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ══════════════

Author's Note:

I am shook at how nicely this one turned out! I've been meaning to do a date/outing fic for the longest time (they tend to make me a little uncomfortable for some reason), and this was so perfect for the first one! If you couldn't tell, I started writing this in a bit of a slump, but over the course of the day, I was able to pull myself out of it. I don't have a Midoriya to my name for me to hug or take me out for ice cream, but all in all, I managed for myself ヽ(ー～ー )ノ. I needed this after the bit of writer's block I've been having lately, and what better way than to spend some time with my (second?) favorite boy Izuku?!

I hope that if anyone feels similar to how y/n did at the beginning they can feel better! My recommendation for if you're feeling like that is to just get up and do something else. Self care is important! Even if it's something as small as shaving your legs and painting your nails (👀), giving yourself some time off is beneficial for everyone!

Thanks for reading! I love y'all!

-Sugar

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​ @xoxopam4​

[master-sass-blast]

Everything Needs a Little Magic

ALL. ABOARD. THE FLUFF TRAIN!

Seriously. This is just fluff. Entirely self indulgent.

Summary: You and Piotr spend the day watching Disney movies.

THAT’S IT. NO PLOT. NOTHING BUT FLUFF. I’M DEADASS SERIOUS.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

Rating: T for making out.

@colossus-and-cable-and-thanos THIS IS ALSO FOR YOU, BB. YOU KNOW WHY! YOU KNOW!

(Also, while we’re here, I highly recommend that y’all check out @x-men-babe‘s blog. They’ve got a masterlist (unlike me, who can’t get their SHIT together) and their writing is really fantastic (READ ICEBOX. DO IT. YOUR LIFE WILL BE BETTER FOR IT. I PROMISE!).

And, unlike me, they take requests! I’ve had a couple people ask me if I take requests. At this point, I don’t, and I’m not sure if I ever will. Outside of special occasions (or finishing my Piotr fic series, which’ll probably take at least a year), it’s not something I can see myself doing. I get very attached to ideas and tend to covet them closely, which ultimately doesn’t work well with doing requests (that and I don’t struggle with writing of my own volition).

But yes! Check out x-men-babe’s blog! You won’t regret it! 10000% Goblin Guarantee of quality!)

Sunlight dapples the bright green undergrowth of the woods behind the X-Mansion. Birds chirp overhead, their merry sounding songs echoing up to the bright, flawless blue sky. Bees occasionally buzz past, in search of the next patch of cutely colored flowers.

It’s a picturesque day.

You, however, are not.

You’re absolutely drenched in sweat, slick and shiny with it as you jog on a well worn path in the woods. Your shirt and gym shorts cling to your body, darkened with your excess perspiration. Your hair is equal parts limp and frizzy, and the strands that have fallen out of your haphazard pony tail --tied during the ugly hours of the morning when you’d first woken up to start your work out--are plastered against your forehead or your neck. Your knees are smudged with dirt from where you tripped earlier --along with your hands--and you just generally look like a mess.

A happy mess, though. A well-exercised mess. This run has been a part of your daily routine for several months now, and you’ve built enough endurance to go the whole distance without stopping or passing out!

You are, however, realizing that you might need to get up earlier if you want to avoid the sweltering summer temperatures and the corresponding sweat bath. You’re not sure which is more disgusting --being so sweaty that people can see their reflections when they look at your skin, or getting up early.

You’re pretty sure it’s getting up early. Probably.

As you jog through the gardens and towards the back of the mansion, you spy Piotr sitting out by the back door in his human form, presumably waiting for you.

Part of it is elating --because just last night he confessed he was in love with you and borderline made out with you on a secluded bench behind a tree, and you’re always happy to see him--but part of it is groan worthy --because just last night he confessed he was in love with you and borderline made out with you on a secluded bench behind a tree, and right now you look absolutely awful.

You slow to a stop a few feet away from him and spread your arms wide, as if waiting for applause before taking a bow. “Behold me and all my drippy glory!”

Piotr chuckles as you flop onto the ground. “You look fine, myshka. I take it your run went well?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, but it’s so damn hot.” You sit up and grimace when you try --and fail--to wipe stray blades of grass off your arms.

“Perhaps you should start waking up earlier.” He’s frowning now, concerned. “It is not good to run in this heat. You could make yourself sick.”

“Okay, I know you’re just trying to help me be healthy, but you should know that suggesting waking up anytime before eight is treason.”

He smiles fondly and shakes his head. “Will you listen if I offer something in return?”

“Absolutely. Even if it’s just you taking your shirt off. Especially if it’s you taking your shirt off. Can you tell I have a vested interest in seeing you with your shirt off?”

His cheeks flush red, but he laughs anyway as he holds out a water bottle to you. “I thought you would be thirsty, since you usually don’t take drink with you. Which--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not healthy.” You groan as you press the cool plastic against your hot skin, then take a few icy sips and sigh contentedly. “You’re a real prince among men. You know that, Piotr?”

“Last I checked, it’s called being nice.”

“Pretty sure you’re just an alien that thrives off being courteous.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks. “So, I am alien Prince?”

“I don’t see why not. You’ve got manners and can morph into a massive metal version of yourself. Pretty fuckin’ weird, if you ask me.” You guzzle a little more water, then groan as you push yourself into a standing position. “You’re dressed casual today. Is school not in?”

“Nyet. We are out for year.”

Right. You knew that. Duh.

Your brain does the math of it’s own volition. 

The students and most of the teachers are out for the day and won’t be back until late evening. Those who’ve stayed behind will likely spend the day doing what they want. And, as if that wasn’t wonderful enough, Wade and Nathan are out of the house on a job for Weasel. 

You smile as an idea comes together in your head. “Are there any missions you have to go on.”

Piotr shakes his head. “Nyet.”

“Do you have any hard set plans for the day?”

He’s smiling now, catching on to what’re you’re getting at. “I do not.”

“Then, what say you and I spend the day together once I’m done showering? I’m thinking marathon movie session.”

“I think I would enjoy that very much.” He opens the back door for you and ushers you inside. “But you really should take water with you on runs, moya lyubov’. Dehydration is no joking matter.”

You hide your fond smile by lifting the spout of the water bottle to your lips and let your mother-hen boyfriend lecture you about proper athletic safety and the importance of being well hydrated.

God, you love this man.

Once you’ve thoroughly scrubbed yourself and put on some dry clothes that don’t reek of sweat, you pop downstairs in search of Piotr.

He’s in the kitchen, making an early lunch for himself. “Have you eaten yet, myshka?”

“No. I prefer doing fasted workouts. You build more muscle that way.”

“Da, but you should eat something. You have burnt great deal of energy.”

“I’m going to.” You pat his arm reassuringly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? Believe me, I’m starving. There’s no way I’m going any longer without eating than I absolutely have to.”

The line of his shoulders relaxes as he exhales. “Sorry, I--”

“Don’t apologize, Pete. I like the way you’re sweet and want to take care of everyone; it’s endearing.” Then, to prove your point, you clamber up onto the stool next to him and kiss him.

Even though most of you is completely swept away by the sheer sensation of his lips pressing against yours, a tiny part of your brain still registers ‘holy fucking shit, I’m kissing Piotr, I’m his girlfriend now, I can kiss him whenever I want, this is so fucking awesome--’

He breaks the kiss with a smile and rubs the swells of your cheeks with his thumbs. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of that.”

You grin and lean back in for another kiss. “Me either.”

He presses a gentle finger against your lips. “Eat something, please, dorogaya moya.”

You kiss the pad of his finger and hop off the stool. “Fine. If you insist. So, what movies are we watching?”

“I thought I would let you choose. I put my DVD binder on table in rec room.”

You stealthily lift a pack of Pop Tarts out of one of the boxes Wade has stashed on top of the fridge, then use Piotr’s meal prep distraction to slip into the rec room with your hard earned treat in hand. You situate yourself on the couch, open the foil wrapper holding the breakfast pastry as quietly as you can, and shove half a Pop Tart in your mouth while you start flipping through the DVD booklet.

The sheer number of choices is overwhelming. You wouldn’t have pegged your boyfriend as a movie junkie. The case contains a little bit of everything, from some discs with titles in Russian --no surprise there--to cheesy rom coms to several pieces by Alfred Hitchcock.

What is surprising, though, is when you spy Disney’s Peter Pan movie at the bottom right corner of one of the ‘pages.’ After staring at it for a moment, wondering why Piotr would have a kid’s movie, you shrug it off and flip over to the other side. He’s a teacher. Of course he’d have a kid’s movie or two.

Except it isn’t just one or two. Peter Pan is just the tip of the iceberg; a few quick, disbelieving flips to the end of the binder confirms that he has every Disney movie released on DVD, from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs to Moana.

Woah. Did not see this coming.

“Pop Tarts are not a meal, dorogaya moya.”

“Agree to disagree.” You look up at him as he walks into the rec room with two plates of food. “Hey, why do you have so many Disney movies?”

“They are happy movies,” he says as he sets one of the plates in your lap. “Besides, I like the art and animation.”

“I’ve never seen ‘em. What makes them so great?”

“Well, the older ones were done by hand. Artists made backgrounds, then painted animation cels for each frame. The cels were photographed, then put together into full movie. It is...” His voice trails off as he tries to find the words. “Awe-inspiring, as artist, to watch. Compared to modern standards, the movies are arguably crude, but the amount of effort is... amazing. And I think the old movies are beautiful in ways that new movies aren’t. The texturing of the backgrounds, the softness... it is incredible.”

“Wow. That is cool. What about the newer ones?”

“Computer animation is fascinating. I doubt it will ever be ‘my thing’ but it is still interesting to watch. Plus, stories and plots are better written. Usually.”

“Always a good thing.” You shove the last Pop Tart half into your mouth and shrug. “Disney’s good. You pick where we start.”

“We start at beginning,” he says emphatically as he carries the DVD carrier over to the entertainment center.

You look down at the plate as he sets everything up and gasp when you realize it has a neat little pile of Cheetos on it. “Wait, is this for me?”

“Da. I told you Pop Tarts were not meal.”

“Man, I scored a total package. How did that even happen?”

He blushes as he stands and walks over to the couch. “I think am I the one who ‘scored,’ myshka.”

You smile and sigh happily when he presses his lips against yours.

There’s no way life gets any better than this.

Life, in fact, does get better.

Namely, in the sense that you get to spend the whole day watching Disney movies with your boyfriend.

And in the sense that, if prompted, Piotr will literally spend several minutes explaining the behind the scenes effort that went into the animating the old movies, the techniques used by the artists to construct the backgrounds, and the sheer level of talent it takes to sync audio to hand-fucking-painted animation.

That, and the movies are just that gorgeous. Granted, the writing in the newer ones are usually better --the two of you opt to hop back and forth between old and new since there’s no way you’ll make it through every single Disney movie in one day--but the level of artistry in all of them leaves you absolutely speechless.

“Man, I’ve really been missing out!” you murmur, awestruck, as you watch the ‘Whole New World’ sequence in Aladdin. “This is amazing! How did they even do this?”

“Much of animation was done on computers at this point,” Piotr says. “It allows for art to move better with music, more creative freedom.”

“No kidding.” You can’t help but smile as you watch the magic carpet soar up into the clouds as the music swells. “This is really beautiful.”

“Da,” Piotr agrees softly.

And then he shifts closer to you, stretches his arms above his head, and lets one settle around your shoulders as he relaxes again.

Suddenly, your proximity to your boyfriend is a lot more interesting than the movie. You’re tucked against his side, sitting thigh to thigh, and his arm is warm and comfortably heavy on your shoulder.

You’re hit by a desire to kiss him --and it suddenly occurs to you that there’s nothing stopping you. The two of you are in a relationship, there’s no one around that would make doing it ‘inappropriate,’ and you’re practically on a quasi-date. There’s never been a better time for it.

You wriggle into his lap until you’re straddling him, propped up on your knees --he’s so much taller than you that at times it’s almost ridiculous--and loop your arms around his next before leaning into kiss him.

Piotr’s hands flit up and down your arms, your shoulders, and your sides before settling at your waist. He uses his hold on you to pull you close, bringing the two of you flush together.

You let out a happy sigh when he wraps his muscular arms around you, effectively cradling you against his burly chest, and kiss him harder. You’ve been pining for him for so long, and now that the two of you are together you never want to stop kissing him. Touching him. Being around him.

“Is this your way of saying that you don’t want to watch movie anymore?” Piotr asks, a little breathless, when the kiss breaks.

“No,” you murmur as you kiss the bridge of his nose. “I just love you.”

His cheeks flush a lovely shade of rose as he smiles sweetly at you. “I love you too, myshka.”

You turn around and settle in his lap to finish watching the movie, snuggled happily in his arms.

This. Life definitely doesn’t get better than this.

Except it does. The universe is hellbent on proving you wrong today, and you’re loving every moment of it.

Once the film finishes, Piotr suggests that the two of you take a stroll through the gardens to get your blood flowing.

The carefully arranged and tended to patches of flowers and bushes look utterly wonderful in the golden, early evening light. A soft breeze stirs the late spring air, keeping everything perfectly comfortable as the two of you walk along the gravel pathways.

Piotr’s hand in solid and warm around yours, and you never expected such a small, simple form of contact to feel so exhilarating. You almost can’t believe that it’s real, that he’s really your boyfriend now and really loves you.

The two of you talk about whatever comes to mind --mostly the movies you’ve been watching--and take your time as you meander around the grounds of Xavier’s. There’s no reason to hurry; the students and teachers won’t be back from their beach trip for a few more hours, there aren’t any missions that need responding to, and with Wade out of the house on one of his jobs there aren’t any explosions or other disasters to shatter the easy, peaceful lull in the air.

“I’ve really enjoyed today,” you say quietly as you squeeze Piotr’s hand.

“So have I, dorogaya moya. This has been... wonderful.” He stops --slowly enough that you don’t stumble or jerk back--and bends down to kiss you.

You smile into the kiss, and rest one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek.

It’s absolutely magical. Maybe the Disney movies have been rubbing off on your life.

“Think we have time for one more movie?” you ask when he pulls back.

“I think so,” he says with a soft, happy smile.

“Cool.” You grin giddily as you walk back to the house, hand in hand, the promise of more quiet, intimate, magic-filled time together beckoning alluringly.

This. Life doesn’t get better than this.