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#i still need to finish making the mechanical hank goggles
savetheghost · 8 months
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god the mpn trailer costumes are sick as fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
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Like Music?
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IMAGINE: You’re fairly new to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and thanks to past circumstances, you haven’t experienced much as other teenagers have. A certain speedster takes it in his own hands to solve your problem. WORD COUNT: 1,199 WARNINGS: N/A
The music washes over you as you start to dance. The crowd isn't wild as usual, but there's enough spark to start a wildfire. The lead vocalist leans into the microphone, belting out the next lyrics.
A singer in a smokey room. The smell of wine and cheap perfume. For a smile they can share the night, it goes on and on and on and on.
Cheering them on like the rest of the crowd, you continue to sway to the beat until someone grabs your waist.
"Having fun yet?" The owner of the arms asks you, their warm breath hitting your ear.
"Yeah, thanks for getting me out of that house," you reply, grabbing the hands.
Their palms are relatively soft, unlike the fingers which are rough at the tips.
"No problem Y/N."
You're turned around. Chocolate brown eyes stare down at you, full of warmth and pride.
"I knew you'd like it here."
A Few Hours Earlier
"So how are you able to control it?" You ask Hank as he leads you to the Blackbird.
"Awhile back, I designed a serum that briefly treats my genes. When it does that, it allows me to revert to my 'normal' form."
"That's amazing!" You exclaim.
Hank shrugs as if to say 'no big deal' before showing you a half-built plane frame.
"So, what do you need help with?" He points out to various spots and starts to explain the process.
"The jets need to be bolted; the previous ones weren't strong enough."
"The mainframe sitting on the processor over there needs to be re-tuned."
"See that wing? There's a certain section that must be welded up."
Already grabbing a few tools for the job, you're interrupted by a small 'whoosh'.
"Hey McCoy, what'cha doing?" You don't turn around, being too busy in gathering your needed equipment.
"Just showing our new engineer trainee the ropes."
After getting everything strapped to your vest, you turn around and face Hank, who stands by himself. "Wasn't someone just talking to you?"
Another 'whoosh' sounds this time right beside you. You quickly look to your right where a silver-haired man stands, sporting odd gear. Goggles sit on his forehead while clipped earbuds hang around his neck, connected to a SONY Walkman strapped to his belt.
"Yeah, that's me. You look very nice, why haven't we me before? I'm Peter Maximoff but guys around here call me Quicksilver. What's your name?"
He speaks so quickly; you have to ask him to repeat it. When you can properly hear him, you offer a hand.
"Nice to meet you... Quicksilver? I'll have to stick with Peter. I'm Y/N."
Peter smiles at the way you respond to him shyly but doesn't bring it up. "You new here? Never seen you around."
You explain how Charles stumbled upon you about a month ago and offered you a place at the school. You moved in only two weeks back. Hank had recently found about your knack with mechanical devices and technical skills.
Peter watches you the whole time you speak, listening carefully to everything you say. Once you're finished, he asks a random question.
"Have you ever gone to a concert Y/N?"
"No. Never had the time."
He scrunches his brown eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head. "You have really never gone to a concert before?" He looks you up and down, smirking broadly once he does.
"That won't do."
In seconds, you feel all the excess weight from the power tools gone. They're quick to reappear in a small pile at Hank's feet. Peter, out of nowhere, stands by your side.
"Sorry Hank," he starts, already slipping on his goggles. "Your little class with Y/N will have to be postponed. I am going to take her to have the time of her life."
Scrunching your nose up in confusion, you look at him. "Really?"
"Yes." He replies. His hand reaches for the back of your head as you speak.
"And how are you-"
Everything rushes past as Peter grabs your head and starts running. Next thing you know, you're standing in your dormitory.
"-Gonna do that?"
Peter knowingly grabs a small trashcan from the corner of the room and hands it to you. Quickly spitting up the little breakfast you had, you glare daggers at the speedster.
"Give me a bit of a warning next time."
"Oh, I will," he responds playfully. One second he's gone, but quickly returns the next with a small pile of clothes in his arms.
"Put this on," Peter says before tossing them at your face. Catching them with ease, you eye them curiously.
"What's wrong with what I have on now?"
"It's nice but you might want to be a bit more comfortable where we're going."
Agreeing to his terms, the fellow mutant waits patiently as you change, leaving the room while you do like a gentleman. Once you've finished, you call him back in.
"You have nice taste, Peter." You compliment, looking over your clothes in the mirror.
"Nah, you just make it look good."
Fixing your shirt, you dare to ask Peter where you were going in order to hide your embarrassment.
"Have you ever heard of Journey?"
"The band?" You question. "A little. I don't listen to music so their songs are a mystery to me."
"I am trying to develop an interest in you Y/N. Are you trying to turn me off or something?"
This boy was definitely not going to make things easy for you. Feeling your cheeks reddening, you turn to Peter.
"I'm sorry. I don't usually have time to listen to music."
"Well, we're going to change that." He grabs your head once more before rushing off.
Several hundred miles later, the two of you stand on a grassy lawn, surrounded by a scattered amount of fellow teenagers and middle-aged adults, all in ripped clothing. A large stage is settled nearby where a crew sets up sound equipment.
"And now we wait."
-
And so, you did. As the band readied themselves for a performance, you and Peter got to know each other better. He had a twin sister named Wanda and along with his mother, they lived in a house full of stolen goods. He then adds how he once had broken into the pentagon and freed the man who supposedly killed JFK.
With every passing minute you talked, you feel more and more intrigued by him. It was nice, having a guy your own age to hang out with who actually let loose.
Then the lights dimmed down as the music started to pour out of the large speakers. It hit you like a tidal wave and you immediately fell in love with it. You started dancing and laughing, something you rarely did anymore.
As they started to play another song, you allow Peter to hold you from behind.
"This is nice," you tell him, swaying from side to side. "I never thought myself to be a rock kind of person."
You look up to Peter who gazes down at you with affection.
"We never think ourselves to be a lot of things but we're still here."
Things were really looking good now.
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