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urdreamydoodles · 2 days ago

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hi! may i request a x-men headcanon where their SO protects them during a battle/fight? i love the idea of these oh so powerful characters being protected

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You protect them during a fight

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Emma Frost, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Hi everyone. As you have seen the requests are closed, because I need to catch up first before reopening them. I hope you understand. And thank you Anon, I love this prompt.

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan had always been the one protecting you. It was his default mode: putting himself between you and any threat without hesitation. So when you threw yourself in front of him during a fight, claws and bullets flying, he froze for a split second. “What the hell are you doing?!” he growled, his voice a mix of anger and panic. It wasn’t fear for himself—it was fear for you.

- You didn’t answer, focusing on deflecting an incoming blow with whatever weapon you had on hand. The sight of you so fiercely determined to keep him safe left Logan stunned, his heightened senses zeroing in on the rapid beat of your heart. He hated that you were putting yourself in danger, but a small, buried part of him felt something else—pride.

- After the fight, Logan pulled you aside, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “You’re outta your damn mind,” he snarled, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “You don’t need to protect me—I’m the one who does that, got it?” You could see the conflict in him, the way his gruff exterior was cracking under the weight of his feelings for you.

- Later that night, Logan found you tending to your own wounds, stubborn as ever. He sat beside you, quiet for once. “Look, I get it,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t like seein’ you get hurt for me. But… thanks.” It was rare for Logan to express gratitude so openly, and the way he looked at you then—like you were the strongest person he’d ever met—made your heart ache in the best way.

- From then on, Logan learned to accept that you weren’t someone who would just stand by when he was in danger. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he’d mutter whenever you stepped in to protect him again, though his smirk betrayed his true feelings. He respected you even more for it, knowing you’d fight for him as fiercely as he’d fight for you.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was the master of charm and cunning, always finding a way to dodge danger or talk his way out of a fight. So when you charged in to shield him from an energy blast mid-battle, he was caught completely off guard. “Chérie, what you doin’?” he called, his voice tinged with disbelief and worry as he watched you take the brunt of the attack.

- You shrugged it off, focusing on getting him to safety. Remy, who had always prided himself on being in control, felt an unfamiliar pang of vulnerability. The sight of you putting yourself on the line for him stirred something deep within—a mixture of guilt and admiration.

- After the fight, Remy found you leaning against a wall, catching your breath. He approached you with his usual swagger, though his red-on-black eyes betrayed his concern. “Y’know, I’m supposed to be the knight in shining armor, non?” he teased, but his tone was softer than usual. He reached out, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Don’t go scarin’ me like dat again, yeah?”

- That night, Remy couldn’t help but replay the moment in his mind. It wasn’t often that someone would risk themselves for him, and it made him realize just how much you meant to him. He pulled you close, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You got a heart as big as the Mississippi, mon amour,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But let me take care o’ you next time.”

- From then on, Remy made it his mission to protect you just as fiercely as you protected him. Still, whenever you stepped in to save him during a fight, he couldn’t help but grin. “Dat’s my love,” he’d say with a wink, his pride in you shining through even in the heat of battle.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt was no stranger to danger, his agility and teleportation making him a formidable opponent in any fight. But when he found himself cornered by an enemy, only to see you teleport—or sprint—into harm’s way to shield him, his golden eyes widened in shock. “Mein Schatz, nein!” he cried, reaching for you instinctively, his heart racing at the sight of you defending him.

- You fought with a determination that left Kurt breathless, your movements precise and unyielding. For once, the usually nimble and quick-witted mutant found himself at a loss for words. The way you protected him, fearless and selfless, struck a chord deep within him.

- After the dust settled, Kurt appeared at your side in an instant, his hands gently checking you for injuries. “Why would you do that for me?” he asked, his voice soft yet trembling with emotion. When you gestured or explained that you’d do anything to keep him safe, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and guilt. “You are too precious to me,” he said, his tail curling around your waist protectively.

- That evening, Kurt refused to leave your side. He wrapped you in his arms, his warmth and the faint scent of brimstone enveloping you. “You are my everything,” he murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back. “But please, promise me you will be careful. I could not bear to lose you.”

- From then on, Kurt saw you not just as his partner but as his equal in every sense. He admired your bravery and strength, though he couldn’t help but worry whenever you put yourself in harm’s way for him. “You are my hero,” he’d tell you with a teasing smile, though the sincerity in his voice made it clear he truly meant it.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott was used to being the leader, the one responsible for keeping everyone safe. So when you leapt in front of him to block an attack during a heated battle, his usually composed demeanor cracked. “What are you doing?!” he shouted, his voice filled with both anger and fear as he fired a concussive blast to finish off the threat.

- Watching you fight to protect him stirred a whirlwind of emotions in Scott. He admired your courage, but the sight of you putting yourself at risk for his sake left him shaken. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said firmly once the fight was over, though his hands were trembling as he reached for you.

- You tried to explain that you couldn’t stand by and watch him get hurt, but Scott’s jaw tightened, his concern overshadowing his usual logical demeanor. “I’m supposed to protect you,” he insisted, though the gratitude in his eyes betrayed his words. He hated feeling vulnerable, but he couldn’t deny how much your actions meant to him.

- Later that night, Scott found you in the med bay, patching up a minor wound. He sat beside you, his hand covering yours. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said quietly, his voice softening. “But please, don’t scare me like that again.” His lips brushed against your forehead, a rare moment of tenderness from the stoic leader.

- From that moment on, Scott’s respect for you deepened even further. He still tried to protect you whenever he could, but he also learned to trust your strength. “You’re my partner,” he said one day, his hand finding yours. “We protect each other.” His smile was small but genuine, a reflection of the unshakable bond you’d built together.

- Jean was always the empathetic one, attuned to the emotions and thoughts of those she cared about. During a mission gone sideways, an enemy blast was heading straight for her. Before she could react, you threw yourself in the line of fire, your shield or power absorbing the impact. Jean’s green eyes widened, and for a moment, all she could feel was panic. “What were you thinking?!” her voice echoed telepathically and out loud simultaneously, both scolding and filled with fear.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- The battle continued, but Jean’s focus kept flickering back to you. Even as she unleashed telekinetic waves and telepathic strikes, her thoughts were drawn to how recklessly you had acted for her sake. When the fight was over, she rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she checked you over. “You’re okay,” she breathed, relief washing over her like a wave. But then her tone shifted, more serious. “You’re never doing that again.”

- Back at the mansion, Jean sat with you in the med bay, her fingers brushing over your bandaged arm. “You know I can take care of myself,” she said softly. “But the fact that you stepped in… it means everything to me.” Her emotions were a mix of guilt and admiration, and her psychic connection to you buzzed with a warmth that made your heart ache.

- That evening, Jean made sure you rested, though she stayed by your side the entire time. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t think for a second that I’d ever let something happen to you. You’re my everything.” Her confession was quiet but sincere, and the glow of her powers seemed softer, more intimate, in the dim light.

- From then on, Jean’s respect for you deepened even further. While she still tried to shield you during battles, she also began to see you as her equal, someone she could rely on. “You’re my partner in every way,” she told you one day, her telepathic voice brushing against your mind like a gentle caress. “We protect each other, always.”

- Ororo was grace and power incarnate, her calm exterior rarely breaking even in the most chaotic situations. But when a battle turned dire and an enemy aimed for her while her back was turned, you didn’t hesitate. Throwing yourself in harm’s way, you used every ounce of your strength to protect her. Lightning crackled in the air as Ororo spun around, her silver eyes wide with shock and fury. “Why would you do that?!” she demanded, her voice carrying the weight of a storm.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Even as the fight raged on, Ororo’s attention kept straying to you, her heart pounding in a way she hadn’t felt in years. The idea of you getting hurt for her sake was unbearable, and yet, she couldn’t deny the overwhelming respect she felt for your bravery. When the battle ended, she landed gracefully beside you, her hands glowing faintly as she helped heal your wounds with a soft breeze.

- “You could have been seriously hurt,” Ororo said, her tone softer now but still laced with worry. She cupped your face gently, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “You mean too much to me to take such risks.” Her words were both a reprimand and a confession, her eyes reflecting the depth of her feelings for you.

- That night, Ororo brought you to her greenhouse, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers and fresh rain. “I’ve always believed in protecting those I care about,” she said, her voice like a melody. “But you… you’ve shown me that love is a two-way street.” Her fingers intertwined with yours as she smiled, a rare and genuine expression of vulnerability.

- From that moment on, Ororo saw you as her equal, someone she could rely on even in the most dangerous situations. “You’re as fierce as the storm itself,” she told you one day, her voice filled with pride. “And I’ll always be grateful to have you by my side.”

- Rogue had always been careful about keeping people at a distance, her powers making physical contact a constant danger. But when a fight turned south and an enemy got the upper hand, you didn’t hesitate to step in and protect her. You took the blow meant for her, even though it left you gasping for breath. “What the hell are you doin’, sugar?!” Rogue shouted, her Southern accent thick with worry as she fought to keep the attackers at bay.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- After the fight, Rogue knelt beside you, her gloved hands hovering over your injuries. “Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be protectin’ you.” Her green eyes shimmered with unshed tears, the vulnerability in her expression breaking your heart.

- Back at the mansion, Rogue stayed by your side, refusing to leave until she was sure you were okay. “You’re the stubbornest person I’ve ever met,” she said with a shaky laugh, brushing a strand of hair from your face with her gloved fingers. “But I guess that’s one o’ the reasons I love you.” Her confession was quiet, almost hesitant, but the look in her eyes left no room for doubt.

- That evening, Rogue sat with you on the porch, the night air cool against your skin. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said, her voice soft. “I’ve spent so long keepin’ people at arm’s length, afraid of hurtin’ ‘em. But you… you make me wanna take the risk.” She reached for your hand, her glove the only barrier between your skin and hers, but the connection was still electric.

- From then on, Rogue made it clear that she would do anything to keep you safe, even as she learned to trust your strength. “We’re a team, sugar,” she said one day, her smile warm and genuine. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- Erik was used to being the protector, his mastery over magnetism making him a force to be reckoned with. So when you stepped in to shield him during a heated battle, deflecting an attack with your own powers or sheer determination, he was caught completely off guard. “Are you mad?” he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and concern as he pulled you behind him.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Even as he fought off the remaining enemies, Erik couldn’t shake the image of you standing so bravely in front of him. The thought of you risking yourself for his sake stirred emotions he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years—fear, admiration, and an aching tenderness.

- After the fight, Erik confronted you, his expression stern but his eyes betraying his worry. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” he asked, his voice low. When you explained your actions, his jaw tightened, and he looked away, struggling to hide the vulnerability in his expression. “You’re remarkable,” he finally admitted, his voice soft. “But reckless.”

- That night, Erik sat with you in his study, the room filled with the soft hum of his powers as he absentmindedly manipulated a small piece of metal. “You remind me of why I fight,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “You make me believe in something greater than myself.” His confession was uncharacteristically open, and the way he looked at you then made your heart race.

- From that moment on, Erik began to see you as his equal, someone he could trust and rely on. While he still tried to protect you during battles, he also respected your strength and determination. “Together, we’re unstoppable,” he told you one day, his hand resting on yours. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- Charles had always prided himself on being the one who guided and protected others, both physically and mentally. During a heated skirmish, when the enemy targeted him while he was focused on neutralizing their minds, you acted without hesitation. You threw yourself into the fray, using your powers or sheer determination to shield him from harm. When the dust settled, Charles wheeled himself over to you, his face pale. “You could have been seriously injured,” he said softly, though his tone carried a mix of gratitude and concern.

Charles Xavier aka. Professor X

- Throughout the aftermath of the fight, Charles kept his composure, but his worry lingered. As the team regrouped, he observed you quietly, his telepathic thoughts touching yours with gentle reassurance. Later, when the others left, he finally addressed you. “Why would you take such a risk for me?” he asked, his blue eyes searching yours for an answer. When you replied that you’d do it again without question, he sighed, a small, bittersweet smile gracing his face.

- Back at the mansion, Charles invited you to his study. “You know,” he began, fingers steepled in thought, “I’ve spent so much time protecting others that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to have someone protect me.” There was a vulnerability in his words that surprised you. “Thank you,” he added, his voice quiet but full of emotion.

- Over the following days, Charles couldn’t help but admire your bravery. He found himself drawn to your selflessness and began to see you in a new light. One evening, as the two of you sat by the fire, he finally admitted, “I’ve grown quite attached to you. More than I ever expected.” His confession was gentle but sincere, his psychic presence brushing against your mind like a warm embrace.

- From that point on, Charles became even more protective of you, though he also respected your strength and independence. “We’re stronger together,” he said one day, taking your hand in his. “And I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe—just as you’ve done for me.”

- Bobby had always been the joker of the group, rarely taking anything too seriously. But during a particularly chaotic fight, when an enemy’s attack veered toward him, he was caught off guard. Before he could react, you stepped in, using your quick thinking and courage to protect him. “Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?!” he shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he watched you take the brunt of the attack.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- After the battle, Bobby rushed to your side, his usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his hands hovering over you as if afraid to touch you. When you shrugged it off and made a joke, he blinked, then shook his head. “I should be the one cracking jokes, not you,” he muttered, though his grin was tinged with guilt.

- Back at the mansion, Bobby stayed close, making sure you were patched up and comfortable. “You know,” he said, trying to sound casual, “you’re kind of amazing. Stupidly reckless, but amazing.” He fiddled with an ice construct in his hands, his usual confidence giving way to a rare vulnerability. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

- Over the next few days, Bobby couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d done for him. He started showing up more often, finding excuses to be around you. One night, as you were watching a movie together, he finally blurted out, “Okay, so maybe I kinda like you. A lot.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, pretending to focus on his popcorn.

- From then on, Bobby made it his mission to keep you safe, though he never stopped teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re my favorite reckless hero,” he said one day, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “But don’t think for a second that I’m letting you pull a stunt like that again.”

- Wanda had always carried the weight of her powers, her ability to reshape reality making her a target in almost every battle. During one such fight, when an enemy’s attack threatened to overwhelm her, you stepped in, using everything you had to protect her. “What are you doing?!” she shouted, her voice breaking as she watched you face the danger meant for her. Her chaos magic surged uncontrollably in response, red energy crackling in the air.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- After the fight, Wanda rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she checked for injuries. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice soft but laced with worry. When you explained that you couldn’t stand by and do nothing, her expression shifted to one of awe and guilt. “You’re incredible,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

- Back at the mansion, Wanda couldn’t seem to leave your side. She sat with you in the quiet of her room, her fingers tracing patterns in the air as she used her magic to soothe your aches. “I’ve always been the one who protects others,” she said softly. “But you… you’ve turned that upside down.” Her eyes met yours, filled with an emotion she couldn’t quite put into words.

- As days passed, Wanda’s feelings for you only deepened. She found herself opening up to you in ways she hadn’t with anyone else, sharing her fears and vulnerabilities. One evening, as you both watched the stars from the mansion roof, she took your hand in hers. “You make me feel safe,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s not something I’m used to.”

- From then on, Wanda became fiercely protective of you, though she also began to trust in your strength. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her magic swirling around her fingers like a promise. “And I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.”

- Pietro was always the fastest, the one who could outmaneuver danger in the blink of an eye. So when a fight took a dangerous turn and you leaped in to protect him, he was stunned. “Are you crazy?!” he shouted, zipping over to your side as you deflected an attack meant for him. His silver hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes were wide with disbelief.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Even as the battle continued, Pietro couldn’t stop glancing at you, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with genuine concern. When the fight finally ended, he was by your side in an instant. “You know I can take care of myself, right?” he said, though his voice cracked slightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

- Back at the mansion, Pietro couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth in your room, occasionally stopping to check on you. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” he said, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. But when you teased him about being worried, he smirked, the tension breaking for just a moment. “Don’t get used to it,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

- Over the next few days, Pietro found himself sticking closer to you than usual. He’d zip in and out of rooms, checking on you, bringing you snacks, or just hanging around. One day, as he sat next to you, he finally said, “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” His voice was quieter than usual, and the look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

- From then on, Pietro became even more protective of you, though he couldn’t resist teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re lucky I like you,” he said one day, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Because no one else gets to scare me like that and live to tell the tale.”

- Emma was used to being the one who controlled situations, her sharp wit and psychic prowess leaving little room for vulnerability. During a battle, when an enemy’s attack zeroed in on her, she was caught off guard. Before she could react, you stepped in, using your abilities—or sheer determination—to protect her. “What on earth are you doing?” she snapped, her diamond form shimmering as she deflected the remnants of the attack. But beneath her icy tone, there was a flicker of shock and something softer.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- After the battle, Emma confronted you immediately, her arms crossed and her piercing gaze fixed on you. “Do you make a habit of risking your life for others, or am I just that lucky?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. When you explained your actions, her expression softened for just a moment before she masked it with a smirk. “You’re either foolish or incredibly brave. I can’t decide which.”

- Over the next few days, Emma found herself replaying the moment in her mind. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual aloof demeanor, she couldn’t help but admire your courage. One evening, she invited you to her office under the guise of discussing strategy. “You’re surprisingly impressive,” she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. “But don’t think for a second that I need saving.”

- As time passed, Emma’s walls began to crack, and she found herself drawn to you in ways she hadn’t anticipated. One night, as the two of you shared a rare quiet moment in the garden, she reached out and took your hand. “You make me feel… safe,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

- From then on, Emma became fiercely protective of you, though she expressed it in her own unique way. “You’re mine now,” she said one day, her tone both teasing and possessive. “So don’t think for a second that I’ll let anything happen to you.”

- Laura had always been the protector, her claws and instincts honed for battle. So when you jumped in to shield her during a fight, she was stunned. “What are you doing?!” she growled, her emerald eyes flashing with anger and concern. She quickly dispatched the enemy, then turned to you, her expression a mix of frustration and confusion. “You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered, though her voice was softer than usual.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- After the fight, Laura couldn’t seem to leave your side. She hovered awkwardly, her protective instincts clashing with her feelings of guilt. “You’re reckless,” she said bluntly, her arms crossed as she tried to mask her worry. But when you smiled and told her it was worth it, her tough exterior cracked just a little. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips.

- Back at the mansion, Laura watched you like a hawk, her keen senses constantly on alert. She didn’t know how to process the fact that someone had risked themselves for her. “I don’t need saving,” she said one day, her voice quieter than usual. “But… thank you.” The words felt foreign on her tongue, but the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable.

- Over time, Laura found herself drawn to your bravery and selflessness. She admired the way you faced danger without hesitation, even if it frustrated her to no end. One evening, as the two of you sat on the mansion roof, she finally opened up. “You mean more to me than I know how to say,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “But if you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll kill you myself.”

- From that moment on, Laura became fiercely protective of you, though she respected your independence. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her hand brushing yours. “But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you get hurt. Not if I can help it.”

- Wade was used to being the one who took the hits, his healing factor allowing him to shrug off injuries that would kill anyone else. So when you leaped in to protect him during a fight, he was utterly baffled. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out!” he shouted, pulling you behind him. “What are you doing? I’m the one who’s supposed to play human shield here!”

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- After the battle, Wade didn’t stop talking about your “heroic” actions. “Seriously, you’re like my own personal bodyguard! Except way cuter,” he quipped, his tone playful but laced with genuine concern. When you rolled your eyes and told him you couldn’t just stand by, he grinned. “Aw, you care about me! I’m touched. Like, emotionally. And probably physically later if I’m lucky.”

- Despite his jokes, Wade couldn’t hide how much your actions affected him. He started sticking closer to you, his usual chaotic energy tempered by an uncharacteristic protectiveness. “You know,” he said one day, tossing a chimichanga your way, “you’re kind of amazing. And not just because you’re willing to risk your life for a guy who looks like a melted candle.”

- Over time, Wade’s feelings for you grew deeper, though he still struggled to express them without humor. One night, as the two of you sat on a rooftop eating takeout, he finally got serious. “You’re the first person who’s made me feel like I’m worth something,” he said, his voice unusually quiet. “So, thanks for that. And also for being insanely hot.”

- From that point on, Wade became even more devoted to you, though he never stopped teasing you about your heroic antics. “You’re my favorite reckless hero,” he said one day, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “But let’s make a deal: next time, let me take the hits. I heal faster, and you’re way too pretty to mess up.”

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2kiran · 1 day ago

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KINKTOBER MINI — wade wilson x male reader breathplay + death scare. do not attempt.

There were very few ways to silence the Merc With A Mouth.

Number one being the old-fashioned resortment of encircling his bare, unguarded neck with the anger-itching palm of your hand and squeezing until his speech motor sputters.

“Ohhh, c’mon, Peanut! Is this really the- agh, hah- best you can do?” Wade teases, fumbling over the quick pants he digests into his lungs as you crowd him backwards, forcing his body to lean against an open window.

He pauses for a split millisecond, feeling the ghastly wind tickle his suited-up back and he believes you actually want to kill him.

Fuck, that’s so undeniably attractive.

He feels his cock throbbing at the mere thought, swelling against the front of his pants while he suppresses a whimper.

Wade’s lips quirk into a grin when you loosen your grip a bit, allowing him to catch his breath. He cannot stop speaking your ear off for the life of him—quite literally, at that—just to see your cute frown, “Seriously, you can’t get rid of me, baby. No matter what your intelligent brain comes up with. Try a liiil’ bit harder.”

And you do, your thumb grazing over his pulse before it presses up again and Wade nearly cums from that contact alone. He gasps, the noise eventually breaking into an unsupported whimper. His hands fumble, one of them clawing at your arm while the other grasps your wrist.

You nudge yourself in between his legs, one of his own subconsciously coming up to wrap around your hip and pull you closer. If you just happened to force him downwards, he’s certain he’ll fall off the building. Faintly whining the best he could, his throat threatens to lock up from the lack of air and he desperately wants your cock in his mouth.

Wade’s lower half strains as he rolls his groin over yours, and he knows he has won when your hand clenches around his bruised neck in response.

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darnell-la · 18 hours ago

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Heyo! Hope you are well :)

Could I request any version of Logan with a partner who always has bad rashes from shaving and he brings it up and she says how her last boyfriend made her shave and said it was gross otherwise and so she just assumes that’s right

note: our inboxes are open! give us anything, and maybe even make your request dramatic. we’d like a bit of bedazzle to our stories, just like this one.

———

“Hey, babe? Before you get in the shower, I wanted to talk to you,” Logan said in the softest voice he’s ever made. He didn’t know how to come off, thinking it would make her uncomfortable.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Y/n asked as she walked out of the bathroom, wrapped in the towel Logan had bought her. “You look good, Bub,” Logan said, making the young lady blush.

“What did you want?” Y/n asked again, not wanting to get into too much before she hopped in the shower. “Just wanted to talk — C’mere,” Logan pat a spot next to him.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Y/n asked as she sat down. Logan softly held her hand with an easy rub. “I know this is way out of my group, and I don’t know much about a woman’s private spots when it comes to that stuff but- Baby, you’ve been talking a lot about your rashes lately,”

Y/n was silent for a little, a little embarrassed about speaking about what her ex put her through for what felt like an eternity.

“Hey, babe- It’s fine, okay? If you’re going through something, just tell me so we can get you treated as fast as possible, alright? I heal, so I’m at no risk, but you are, so we need to,“

“Logan, Logan! Relax, it’s not that, okay?” Y/n cut Logan off, knowing he was overthinking. “It’s just razed bumps and all. Really bad ones because I shave almost every day for the past decade,”

“What?” Logan asked, confused about why she shaved almost daily, especially for so long. “Look, I wasn’t in a good relationship before you. H-He’d want it smooth any time of day, just in case he felt like doing it. Even just touching it to watch me squirm in public spaces,”

Now Logan was silent, having difficulty believing anyone could make his woman go through something like that.

“I-I just thought you wanted it smooth too, you know? He said that most men don’t want it hairy,” y/n felt disgusting, feeling like her ex was speaking through her.

“Baby — I’m just offended that you think I’m some little scummy boy. Who the fuck cares so much about a smooth cunt? Who the fuck is that bastard? I needa talk to that man-“

“No, no, relax, babe,” Y/n pulled Logan back down on the bed. “It was years ago,” y/n tried to make it seem like she wasn’t still traumatized. “Yet, you still do that shit — Baby, I’m hardy. I’ve never shaved around my cock for you, so what makes you think I have the right to tell you to shave?”

Y/n looked down and thought to herself. It wouldn’t make sense, but her ex would make it the worst deal if he felt one prick of hair.

“Bub, look at me,” Logan grabbed her chin softly, making her look up at him. “I’ve lived more lives than your sad excuse of an ex could ever live. He’s not a good man, and any man that has a mindset like that isn’t a good man,”

Y/n nodded her head as her eyes teared up, feeling a bit of relief, knowing she wouldn’t have to go through these rashes anymore. She can finally feel better about herself.

“C’mere,” Logan slowly laid y/n down on the bed and he kissed her neck. “My baby looks good no matter what. You think hair will scare me away from how good you taste?” Logan asked as he slowly moved down to her lower body. “Could be tangled down there, and I couldn’t care less,”

Logan pulled her towel off and softly spread her legs, already seeing how wet she was. “You haven’t even hoped in the shower, baby. How dirty if you,” Logan smirked as he leaned towards her heat, smelling the smell that always seemed perfect.

“I’m sorry, Logan,” y/n spoke low, still feeling a hint of anger in Logan. She knew Logan was a man who hated when people thought he couldn’t game anything.

Logan chuckled because he thought he was hiding his anger pretty well, but y/n seemed to always know when something was off about him.

“Oh, you will be, Bub,”

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avocado-writing · 20 hours ago

Note

If rreqs are still open for that little bit, can I get reader bothering logan while he's trying to fix his bike and then he get frustrated and fucks then on the bike/tool bench?

“and what does this do?”

you walk your fingers slowly along the handlebars, entering into Logan’s periphery yet again. he huffs but you can tell he’s not really annoyed - he couldn’t be with you, never.

”it’s still the throttle, baby. same as it was when you asked two minutes ago.��

“aww, sorry, Lo. you know I get distracted.”

you lean on the leather seat, crossing your arms and leaning towards to crowd his space. his view of the Harley is totally obstructed by every lovely angle of you. Logan cocks a brow from where he’s knelt, forearm-deep in grease. you bat your eyelids.

“you know you shouldn’t wear those vests if you don’t want them to get stained…” you sigh, airily, moving your fingers now to the expanse of his chest. motor oil smears white cotton but you’re more interested in the shape of his muscles underneath. damn. what a specimen you have, all to yourself.

well. when he’s not laying all his love on his goddamn bike.

“I get the feeling you’re not here to help.” he says, finally putting down his wrench and going to wipe his hands.

“it’s been two days, Lo. I’m getting lonely.”

“have I not come to bed every night?” Logan chuckles, a velvety, molasses-rich sound. it works for you every time.

“only to head to the garage the next morning without even staying for breakfast! I know I won’t be your only love, baby, but c’mon. I’ve gotta give you the better ride.”

when you wink he finally takes the bait. he throws the cloth gripped in his fist to the ground and manoeuvres you forward with his warm, broad hands, perching you onto the motorcycle seat as you let out a squeak of surprise. his lips trace your jugular and you have no doubt he can feel the way your blood’s pounding. he’s so close. every sense you have in drenched in Logan, Logan, Logan.

“L-Logan…”

“didn’t want this, honey?” he growls against your neck, teeth tracing the soft skin there. “you got my attention now. don’t pretend you’re shy all of a sudden.”

he laughs again at the needy noise you make, hips thrusting up against yours to press the heat of his cock against you. you automatically grip onto his shirt at the promise of what’s in store now you have his focus solely on you.

“Logan…”

“I’ve got you, baby.”

his hands are quick at unbuckling his jeans as you go for the buttons on yours, though you’re more than happy when he bends you over the bike seat and does the rest himself. happy that you’re bare to him, he spreads that broad hand across your back to keep you in place while he lines up, slipping inside like he was fucking made to be there.

“holy shit—” you manage at the sudden feeling of fullness, he way he pushes himself deep into you. it’s nothing compared to when he starts moving though, both hands on your hips to steady you as he begins to thrust, pressing the leather of the seat against your sex.

“Logan… oh my god…”

“I’ve got you, baby. just relax.” you can hear the smile in his voice, and let yourself melt against the motorbike.

you’re glad to have his attention back…

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom

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marrziy · 2 days ago

Text

Peters x Male Reader

— P R O T U B E R Â N C I A —

.•✦ Resumo: 3 histórias antológicas, 3 homens-aranha e 3 paus muito grandes. ⋆͙̈

▶●─────────── A vastidão do multiverso é infinita demais para que não existam terras onde versões suas sofram felizes lidando com a boa genética dos diversos Parkers espalhados por aí. Há micro e colossais diferenças entre cada linha temporal, e, nesses três fiapos abaixo, seus Peters são enormes entre as coxas, grossos e impossivelmente encaixáveis.

Mas, tanto eles quanto você estão dispostos a fazer caber.

PETER 1

1° pessoa - presente | Palavras: 1.5k

Arrasto meus lábios para fora da circunferência salgada, com as bochechas cheias. Engulo superficialmente o excesso, fazendo questão de manter a língua branca. Olhando para cima, me deparo com Peter atordoando os gemidos, usando uma das mãos para cobrir a boca. Ele tem a cabeça jogada para trás, manifestando o gogó.

Droga… queria ouvi-lo choramingar!

Só não o faço gritar porque uma terceira presença conduz a limusine que nos leva a… a… um avião? Jato? O destino é Berlim, então certamente iremos voar.

Estamos contando que Happy não abra a janelinha divisória e nos flagre. Felizmente, o homem se cansa só de imaginar Peter abrindo a matraca e não fechando mais, então evita qualquer direcionamento a ele. É fácil supor que temos privacidade para um boquetinho.

Mas eu quero mais.

Posso ver, através da camiseta, o contorno perfeito do peitoral farto de Peter, subindo e descendo desordenadamente. Sem desviar o olhar, volto com a boca para o centro de suas pernas, afundando minha cabeça entre suas coxas para lamber as bolas suadas, que convulsionam sob o carinho molhado, reféns da minha língua. Os efeitos do orgasmo ainda assolam Peter. Ele estremece e libera breves linhas cremosas da cabecinha inchada, que escorrem por todo o comprimento grosso, desviando das veias proeminentes e pousando no meu rosto, lambuzando minhas bochechas.

Vendo a baderna que causei, subo com a língua para limpar, consumindo o esperma e encharcando com mais saliva, trocando qualquer resquício de Peter por pedaços meus. Finalmente na glande, abraço a base com meus dedos e beijo a ponta rosinha, lambendo e sugando uma última vez.

Peter alucina, empurrando os quadris para cima, querendo atolar dentro da minha garganta. Mas eu não deixo.

Arreto minha coluna, sorrindo para a expressão pidona do garoto ofegante à minha frente. Um fio de porra diluída em saliva ainda conecta meus lábios inchados à cabeça babada, e eu quase me rendo ao implorar mudo de Peter. — Delícia. – soei rouco; afinal, o arrombado fodeu minha garganta.

— Então chupa mais, ué – balbucia, quase indignado, e se estica para frente, esfregando o pau teso no meu rosto.

Esse caralho não amolece?

Sabendo que o tempo é incerto, retiro somente minha calça e abro os botões da camisa. A cueca, afasto para o lado. Rindo baixinho, sento no colo de Peter, e, no mesmo instante, ele se retrai todo contra o couro do banco. — O que você… – o interrompi, unindo nossas bocas.

Deslizo minha língua gozada por sua cavidade, percebendo, mesmo sem ver, quando o Parker comprime os olhos arregalados, se vedando junto a mim. Levo as mãos ao seu rosto, aprofundando o beijo, e ele agarra minha cintura, apertando com força, deixando marcas.

Compartilho o gozo que mantive na língua, fazendo Peter sentir o gosto da própria essência. Ele murmura abafado na passagem, quase me partindo em dois quando intensifica a pressão das mãos. Levanto meus quadris sem desatar o nó das bocas, morosamente pegando na ereção quente abaixo de mim e a guiando até meu buraco dedilhado.

Apesar dos minutos me alargando enquanto mamava Peter, o pau do desgraçado é tão… colossal… que tortura as almas das minhas falecidas pregas; me faz de virgem toda vez!

E eu adoro.

Amo como até a cabecinha empaca no início, e é preciso fazer força para entrar. Arde tanto.

Mas Peter resiste. — A-amor, não! – entretanto, apenas em lamúrias, porque não me afasta, sequer afrouxa o toque. — É muito arriscado! Você sabe que eu odeio ser pego no pulo, tenho trauma! – cochicha, fixando o olhar na divisória selada da limusine. — Eu juro que abro essa porta e me jogo na estrada se o rabugento lá na frente decidir ser simpático e dar oizinho pra gente! Eu nem tô brincando, cê sabe que eu não brinco! Juro que nunca falei tão sério em toda a minha vida, eu…

— Shh! – prenso suas bochechas, roubando o foco dele para mim, e, porra… aqueles olhos marejados e boquinha entreaberta me arregaçam tanto quanto o cacete palpitando na minha entrada. — Primeiro que o Happy nunca faria jus ao apelido. – conforme falo, vou descendo os quadris, engolindo mais do comprimento, cuja ponta molhada já se sente em casa. — E isso não é mais e nem menos arriscado que eu ajoelhado entre suas pernas, te chupando. É só… se-sermos rápidos! – estou tão necessitado de alívio. Me segurar é doloroso. E Peter, apesar de já ter experimentado o orgasmo, se encontra na mesma. Esse puto está sempre batendo no teto, mesmo que dele pingue porra e a carne flameje. — Seja um bom garoto, Petezinho. Você já encheu um buraco, agora tem que encher o outro, poxa…

A cada segundo decorrido encarando a testa franzida de Peter, suas sobrancelhas unidas, o suor descendo e o lábio inferior mordido, cresce ainda mais a convicção de que, sim, irei gozar intocado.

Ele demonstra descontrole, gemendo contido, ondulando os quadris para cima de forma dura e desajeitada, impondo limites onde sabe que costuma se perder. Tadinho…

Será que eu...

Amoleço os músculos, deixando a gravidade me puxar para baixo. O deslizamento é natural, e, logo, estou adorando o pau de Peter por completo.

— Caralho! – ele rosna, levando a mão fechada à boca e mordendo o punho, jogando a cabeça para trás. É divertido ouvi-lo xingar. — Tá tud… tudo bem a-aí? – pergunta entrecortado ao abaixar o olhar e se deparar com o volume na minha barriga. Ele toca, encantado e um tanto assustado com a protuberância que projeta em mim; nunca acostumado, mas, também, sem deixar de flexionar para cima, embainhando-se até grudar a pélvis.

Não respondo, pois não consigo. Estou anormalmente esticado em volta da grossura, é desconfortável demais. Tão bom! Minha voz atola na garganta, e a única coisa que sai são gemidos chorosos. Tão gostoso! Estou pulsando pra caralho, sinto que vou rasgar. Meu abdômen não para de contrair. Tão prazeroso!

Agarro os cabelos de Peter com uma mão e, com a outra, cubro sua boca. Ele geme contra meus dedos, esparrama as pernas para os lados, desliza os pés nervosamente no carpete e apalpa freneticamente o contorno do próprio pau sob minha pele, eufórico com a explosão de boas sensações.

Eu - arregaçado naquele pau, deitado preguiçosamente sobre o corpo enérgico de Peter, roçando meus lábios na pele suada de seu pescoço, fungando seu cheiro - concentro minhas vontades na ala inferior e ergo meus quadris, marejando conforme deslizo para cima na circunferência grossa.

Vendo Peter reagir com aumento no volume, intensifico meu aperto em sua boca.

Pairando na ponta, desço potente, esmagando as bolas inchadas abaixo de mim.

Peter praticamente grita, se libertando da minha contenção. — Droga! Não consigo… – ele me abraça com força, pressionando nossos peitorais juntos, e aninha a cabeça na curvatura do meu pescoço, choramingando lá. — Amor, por favor! Eu não vou aguentar, eu não… Amor!

Ele arranha minhas costas, jogando os quadris para cima, chocando sua pele palpitante contra minha bunda ávida enquanto desenha vergões.

A pele da minha barriga se estica a cada sentada, tornando aparente o contorno do pau dentro de mim. — Eu vou… – tento avisar, mas falho. Contraio intensamente quando gozo, me contorcendo. Não sou tão escandaloso quanto o Parker; meu gemido ressoa quase imperceptível. Reviro os olhos e tremo sob a pressão das mãos de Peter na cabecinha sensível do meu pau, impedindo que minha porra lambuze nossas roupas.

— Eu também! Vou te encher muito, meu lindo. – ele continua metendo, abraçando meu corpo molenga. Ofegante contra o ombro dele, molho a manga de sua camiseta com a baba que escorre da minha boca, meu corpo balançando com a movimentação. — Tá chegando… Porra! – Peter geme grosso, de boca fechada e dentes em atrito. Ele mantém o pau fundo dentro de mim; suas bolas contraem, impulsionando cargas de porra para o meu estômago. O abraço fragiliza, e os músculos tensos travam uma última vez antes de relaxar.

Vivencio cada latejar do cacete nas minhas entranhas, antecipando cordas extensas de esperma quente. Me sinto mais cheio conforme Peter goza dentro, deixando meu interior pesado.

Ele mantém o abraço, e agora, um tanto equilibrado, levanto minha cabeça, encarando-o de cima. Encontro um sorriso bobo esticando os lábios de Peter em meio a uma expressão aliviada. Rio fraquinho, beijando aquele sorriso.

Contra minha boca, soa a voz rouca do Parker. — Foi muito gostoso. Você é muito gostoso. Fazer sexo com você é muito gostoso. Sua bunda é muito gostosa. – ele morde meu lábio inferior, impedindo meu afastamento quando, corado, tento encerrar o selar.

— Deixa disso! – choramingo, soando pouco entendível. Esfrego minha bunda em sua virilha, fazendo-o suspirar e libertar meu beiço inchado. — Idiota. – escondo meu rosto em seu peitoral, tímido quando o tesão passa, ao contrário de Peter, que se intimida no fervor.

Ele tenta puxar o pau para fora do meu buraco, mas eu o impeço com um aperto no pulso.

— Enlouqueceu? Você gozou pra caralho. – é óbvio para mim, mas Peter me encara como se perguntasse "e daí?". — Se você tirar, meu cu vai virar uma torneira de porra. Sacou? – explico, olhando para o lado, vendo minha mochila no espaço vazio do banco. — Tem lenços ali. Fica quietinho e tenta não… amolecer.

Entretanto, antes de alcançar os bolsos, as janelas se abrem e o vento entra, trocando o ar abafado pelo fresco. — Foi você? – volto a encarar Peter, nós dois de sobrancelhas erguidas.

— Não. Pensei que tivesse sido você, que tá mais perto da janela.

— Mas as duas abriram!

— Então só pode ser o… Merda!

PETER 2

2° pessoa - presente | Palavras: 600

A mão pesada amassa a carne macia da sua bunda, dando origem a marcas no molde dos dedos. Você solavanca devido ao choque, conectando essa agitação ao contorcer irritadiço entre as cobertas, oriundo do calor incômodo que se alastra de dentro para fora e não cessa.

Você fixa os punhos fechados no peitoral suado de Peter ao que ele empurra os quadris para frente, forçando a cabeça grossa para dentro do seu anelzinho apertado. O estouro traz tremor. Suas pernas fraquejam, quase batendo os joelhos, mas Peter, já na entrada, exige espaço, afastando suas coxas e as mantendo arreganhadas, fazendo pressão em rumos paralelos.

Você se sente uma cadela no cio por ansiar, por querer mais daquela carne abrindo espaço dentro do seu corpo ávido. — Hmn — geme sôfrego, tendo de ser puxado para mais perto e esmagado pela corpulência de Peter para ficar quieto.

Ele desliza os centímetros restantes com tanta facilidade no caminho treinado, que, antes mesmo dos seus olhos se arregalarem, as bolas inchadas já sufocam sua abertura.

Parecia impossível algo tão grande caber em um espaço tão miudinho, mas aqui está você, esticado ao redor da circunferência rija que, atolada até o fundo, espanca seu limite.

Você geme forte, satisfação nítida na voz rouca.

Peter sorri de lábios colados, apaixonado pela sua versão derretida, sonso do tanto que atura na bunda. — Você gosta? — ele sussurra no seu ouvido. — Porra… meter em você é a minha coisa favorita no universo.

— Grande! Mui-muito gran… — você engole a última sílaba, engasgando na própria saliva e simplesmente desistindo de falar, impedido, como sempre nesses momentos, pelo pau cerrando suas entranhas.

Contra o abdômen, no exterior, Peter não sente apenas sua frontal e cacete negligenciado; ele também sente a pressão do próprio pau, que é grande a ponto de esticar a firmeza das suas paredes rugosas e projetar o contorno das investidas na sua barriga.

Você sente aquela piroca pulsar dentro do seu estômago, entrando e saindo numa velocidade inebriante, te reorganizando como bem quer.

O inchaço entre seus corpos enlouquece Peter; ele não consegue evitar se pressionar mais contra você, nem grudar seus lábios num beijo afoito enquanto roça no volume que ele mesmo implanta na sua barriga. A sensação deliciosa da língua molhada na sua boca faz você gemer, e o prazer do pau quente fervendo no seu interior atrai sua bunda rumo à pélvis que vem e vai.

Cada vez mais rápido, mais forte e com menos fôlego.

O pré-sêmen só não escorre da sua entrada porque está sendo estocado diretamente no seu estômago, como um aperitivo que atiça antes do prato principal.

Repetidamente, seu cuzinho é espancado com toda a força que o acúmulo de frustrações nutre, e a estrutura sensível balança por influência, pronta para extravasar.

No teor meloso das fanfics mais clichês, os abdomens contraem, gemidos falhos escapam, o suor rola e as bolas convulsionam no momento em que gozam ao mesmo tempo.

O pau grande de Peter jorra mares de porra grossa, alagando seu corredor trêmulo.

Apesar de atolado até o saco, é muito esperma, e um bocado acaba vazando por entre as bordas inchadas.

Estão crus.

O pau dele e o seu buraco, vermelhos feito sangue.

O dele, áspero, e o seu, macio.

Peter arrasta o pau vagarosamente para fora do seu calor, ainda grande e querendo mais, mas lhe dando a pausa que você aparenta precisar. Ele aproveita a vista, observando a protuberância na sua barriga se esvair aos poucos.

Entretanto, seguido do estalo molhado que acompanha a glande vermelha, o dedão dele ocupa o espaço, forçando a cachoeira de sêmen de volta ao âmago. — Você vai ficar com isso dentro de você quando for pro curso. – diz, temperando suas bochechas e lábios com bitocas.

PETER 3

3° pessoa - presente | Palavras: 1.1k

Deveria ter sido apenas um encontro romântico e um filminho até apagar, mas, quando Peter tem vontade, muito pouco é capaz de impedir que ele se sacie. Na volta do restaurante, a poucos metros da portaria do apê que dividiam, Peter pulsava de vontade.

Os dois rapazes se profanam entre prédios, apalpando o corpo um do outro no escurinho de um beco.

O distinto é que eles não estão com os pés no chão.

As solas de Peter, assim como os joelhos, estão coladas à parede do edifício, sendo esses os quatro principais pontos estáveis. A cinco andares da superfície, ele suga os lábios do namorado com gosto, aperta a cintura dele em um abraço inquebrável e certifica-se de esmagá-lo contra os tijolos, peito a peito aglutinados.

M/n tem as coxas esticadas ao encaixe de Peter, com os pés entrelaçados na lombar empinada do namorado-aranha e os braços cercando o pescoço tensionado. — Vamos logo pra dentro. — M/n tenta se pronunciar durante o beijo e quase chora de frustração ao insistir na fuga dos lábios pirralhos e falhar.

Quando não está de olhos fechados, M/n encara as íris castanhas do Parker e ignora as direções que apontam para o concreto falho do chão, evitando, assim, a vertigem.

Porém, sentindo a calça e a cueca serem arrastadas para fora do corpo e algo quente pressionar sua entrada exposta, M/n abaixa o olhar com os globos saltados, deparando-se com a cabecinha grossa do pau de Peter alargando seu anel tenso. — O que… – naturalmente, M/n levaria a mão ao quadril do outro para transitar a investida, mas, só de imaginar mover qualquer parte do corpo que não seja o pescoço, M/n fica tonto.

Peter, com a glande fincada na entradinha relutante, libera uma lufada de ar quente contra o pescoço de M/n. — Eu sei, eu sei! Mas… tá me incomodando tanto, mozi. Diz que posso meter? Por favor! – Peter não é composto apenas dos superpoderes que usa junto ao traje nas ruas; ele também é super no relacionamento com M/n, manha e persuasão sendo algumas de suas habilidades. — Você tá mais tesudo que o normal hoje. Tô me segurando desde que vi você arrumadinho pra gente sair.

O corpo de Peter esquenta tanto, e a rigidez que ele busca amenizar, mesmo que, até então, só no raso, deixa o interior de M/n em tamanho fervor que ele sequer sente a brisa gelada agredindo a pele nua. — Mas… a janela do nosso apartamento tá literalmente do nosso lado! É só abrir e entrar! – com um simples virar de cabeça, M/n vê a moldura retangular, o abajur que esqueceu ligado emitindo luz através do vidro.

Peter chia com os lábios cercando uma das bochechas de M/n. — Eu não consigo esperar mais, não dá! Preciso sentir você! – ele morde a carne corada, afundando os dentes com força no macio, parando apenas quando o namorado choraminga e estremece. — Vai… fala que aguenta tudinho… – sussurra, lambendo as marcas de dente que implantou na região sensível.

O ardor na bochecha abocanhada gera lágrimas no canto dos olhos e pré-porra na fenda do pau de M/n. — Mas é arriscado demais! Você é tão enérgico quando me fode, e se nós cairmos? – apesar de tanto latejar, M/n encontra-se empatado pelo lugar, posição e ausência do prévio.

— Já saí saltitando entre esses prédios com coisa mais pesada. Segurar você aqui é molezinha. – Peter sussurra lábio a lábio, atritando os rosais. — Relaxa.

— E se eu não aguentar? É tão…

— Grande? Grosso? Girante? Qual dos três G's você vai usar? – ele sorri de ladinho com o revirar de olhos que recebe do namorado, que já tem as íris configuradas para alcançar a nuca sempre que Peter cita a própria magnitude no meio das pernas. — Você vai se arrepender se eu parar, não vai? – Parker eleva a intimidação no interior de M/n, empurrando centímetro por centímetro vagarosamente, esticando a borda quentinha aos poucos.

— Merda… – M/n sussurra para si mesmo, fitando os olhos famintos de Peter com as sobrancelhas caídas, praticamente implorando para ser consumido.

Cheios de tudo há quase duas semanas, os rapazes não tiveram tempo para explodir, e agora não dá mais para atrasar o fogo que penaliza o cordão.

— Você gosta de ter um namorado grandão, sabe que gosta! E gosta ainda mais quando faço do meu jeito, né? Adora quando queima… – Peter sussurra, rouco, na orelha daquele que mói às lágrimas. — Então só me deixa… – cala quando mete até as bolas.

M/n grita ao ser alongado até não poder mais, interrompendo a si mesmo em seguida, forçando a língua e os lábios para dentro da boca. — Nngh, porra! – geme baixinho, afundando o rosto no ombro do namorado, amassando as roupas dele com os punhos contraídos no pano.

Peter puxa o quadril para longe do aconchego, mantendo apenas a pontinha, e bate com tudo novamente. O ritmo perdura, forte e gradativamente mais rápido.

Machuca o modo como Peter prende o parceiro na parede e o abraça, cria marcas, mas não dói em M/n, porque no momento, tudo é maravilhoso demais.

A boca de Peter, entreaberta no vão do pescoço que ama fungar, libera gemidos ininterruptos, soltos no ritmo de cada estocada, vindo mais altos de acordo com o quão gostosa foi a botada, e o volume não para de aumentar. O interior apertadinho, contraindo grosseiramente a fim de expulsar o caralho maldoso, deixa Peter no limite; ele não vai durar muito.

M/n está agarrado às costas do namorado com braços e pernas, a ponto de babar e soluçar, não aguentando ter sua próstata judiada pela cabecinha atrevida do pau grosso de Peter.

As roupas impedem de ver, mas, abaixo delas, uma saliência distende os limites de M/n a cada investida, desaparecendo quando Peter retorna o caminho antes de atolar toda a carne latejante na caverna rugosa outra, outra e outra vez.

— Cacete! – mesmo no topo, o Parker se manifesta com a voz mansa e, dessa vez, mais chorosa que nunca. Contraindo toda a musculatura, de olhos marejados e estrutura trêmula, Peter goza dentro de M/n. — Foi mal… Não consegui segurar, tava tão gostoso! – balbucia, diminuindo a velocidade até parar, mas segue fundo no calor, jorrando linhas grossas de esperma.

O buraquinho de M/n está cheio de Peter, e é tanto que escorre, pingando da entrada inchada rumo ao chão do beco.

Mesmo atingindo o ápice muito antes do namorado, Peter tem porra demais acumulada nas bolas e pretende gastar até secar.

——— --- ·

Gostaro?

Se possível, falem aí pra mim qual tipo de narração vcs preferem (primeira, segunda ou terceira pessoa)

Eu PRECISO equilibrar a quantidade de palavras! 😭

—★🎭📂: Masterlist

—★💋📂: HOT masterlist

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just-dreaming-marvel · 2 days ago

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Love That Burns ~ Ending 1 ~ 42

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,810ish

Summary: The group heads to Paris, where the plan goes wrong.

Warning(s): a lot of movie dialogue, fights, Stryker

Notes: STRYKER LOOKS LIKE THE ORIGINS STRYKER NOT DAYS OF FUTURE PAST STRYKER. Also, I hope that this makes a lick of sense and isn't too choppy. Please let me know your thoughts.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan sent you and Peter to get the car while Erik was told the reason that he had been broken out of the Pentagon. Once you returned with the car, everyone loaded up, and you headed to a private airport. A private airport was waiting on the runway when you arrived.

“Uh, do any of you know how to fly this thing?” you asked, eying the nice plane.

“I do,” Hank said, heading up the stairs. “I’ll get everything ready.”

You looked over at James. “This is our second flight in a day, and this is much longer. Are you sure you'll be okay?”

Logan could have melted at the concern shining through in your eyes. “You’ll sit with me?”

“Of course.”

“Then I’ll be just fine, sweetheart.”

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Logan slowly reached forward and took your hand. Your breath caught at the feeling of your hand in his. He had held your hand before, but something was different about this. Logan gave your hand a light squeeze before guiding you up the steps and onto the private plane. As much as Logan wanted to sit beside you and hold you tight, he knew that he was already pressing too much. He led you to a seat and then sat across from you with a small table between.

Erik entered the plane soon after and reached for the newspaper that rested on the small table between you and Logan. Logan quickly pinned the newspaper to the table with his claws.

“Imagine if they were metal,” Erik scoffed, walking to one of the back seats.

Logan bit down a remark as he pulled out a cigar. He went to light it, but you quickly killed the flame from his lighter.

“Are you really going to do that while we all sit in this cramped plane?” You asked, exasperated.

“What? It’s not illegal yet,” Logan retorted.

Your brows creased together. “You make it sound like someday it will be.”

“Uh, well, yeah, because of people like you who don't like the smell.”

“Right.”

“So you really won’t let me light it?”

“Not a chance, James.”

His lips tugged into a small smile, barely there, as he put the lighter and cigar back in his pocket. “Then how am I going to survive this flight?”

“Here,” you reached your hand across the table and wiggled your fingers. “Take it.”

Logan didn't waste a second in placing his hand in yours. At the same time, Charles entered the plane and went to the back to sit down. Hank got the plane in the air, causing Logan to grip your hand tighter. The silence in the plane was almost suffocating as Charles glared at Erik.

“How did you lose them?” Erik asked Charles.

“The treatment for my spine affects my DNA,” Charles explained.

“You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?!”

“I sacrificed my powers so I could sleep.” Charles shook his head. “What do you know about it?”

"I've lost my fair share.”

Charles let out a cold laugh. “Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn't justify what you’ve done.”

“You have no idea what I've done.”

"I know you took the things that meant the most to me."

“Well, maybe you should have fought harder for them."

Charles and Erik stood up to be face-to-face. "If you want a fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!"

"Sit down!” Logan demanded.

“Let him come," Erik responded.

Charles seized Erik by the front of his shirt. "You abandoned me!” He exclaimed. “You took her away, and you abandoned me!”

“Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee,” Erik grew angrier with each name, his powers beginning to control the plane. “Mutant brothers and sisters, all dead! Countless others experimented on, butchered!”

Erik's powers rattled the plane and set it on a downward trajectory. The force caught you off guard, sending you flying sideways out of your seat. Logan's grip on your hand was the only thing to keep you from hitting your head. With a groan, Logan pulled you into his lap.

“Hold on to me,” Logan mumbled.

Your arms slipped around his neck as he held tightly to the table to keep you both in place. You tried to remain calm at how it felt to be in his lap and this close. You took a deep breath to keep your heart and powers at bay.

"Where were you, Charles?!” Erik continued. Charles was holding onto the ceiling and a seat to try and not fly around.

“Erik!” Hank shouted as he tried to regain control of the plane.

”We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding! You and Hank! Pretending to be something you're not! You abandoned us all!”

“ERIK!”

Erik relinquished control of the plane. “You abandoned us all.”

Both Charles and Erik were panting as they stared each other down. Unable to take it anymore, Charles went up and took the pilot seat next to Hank. Logan’s hands came up to cup your face, his eyes frantically scanning for any sign of injury.

“I'm okay," you told him, grabbing his wrists and giving them a little squeeze.

“You sure?" He still was looking you over.

“Yes. Are you okay?”

Logan’s eyes finally met yours. “Yeah. Just great.”

You nodded, not believing him. “I’m going to use the restroom.” You pushed off of him and slipped into the nearby restroom.

Logan sighed, fixing his position in his seat. “So, you were always an asshole."

Erik scoffed. “I take it we're best buddies in the future,” he turned and responded.

Logan chuckled. “I spent a lot of years trying to bring you down, bub.”

“How does that work out for you?”

“You’re like me. You’re a survivor.” Logan looked around at the mess left due to Charles and Erik's argument. “Do you wanna pick all that shit up?"

The conversation died down, silence filling the plane. Including you, frozen in the restroom as you overheard their conversation. The future? Is that why James was acting so strange? But then... why—how did he look the same? Was this all a trap? This was a conversation you needed to have with James alone and not in the middle of the air with strangers. Except, these people didn't seem like strangers to him. Taking a deep breath, you needed to bury down the fear and anxiety that was bubbling up inside of you. You slipped out of the restroom and sat back in your seat.

Logan knew you too well. The second his eyes fell on you, he knew something was wrong. His brows pinched together as he leaned forward, trying to catch your eye, but he could tell you were avoiding it.

“Sweetheart, what's wrong?” He whispered.

The question was something you noted. The two of you had known each other for less than a year, and he was asking like he knew you like the back of your hand.

“I’m fine," you replied. “Just tired.” You moved to curl up in the chair.

“Y/N—“

“I’m fine, James," you snapped. "Let me get some rest."

Logan watched as you curled up and closed your eyes. An anxious knot formed in his stomach. He was going to lose you at this rate, and he didn't even know how to fix it without completely making it worse. As soon as he could tell that you were asleep, he pulled off his leather jacket, stood up, and carefully placed it on top of you. Logan couldn't control himself as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of your head. Tears threatened to overtake his eyes as he thought that this could be the last gentle moment he had with you. He needed to savor it.

“You love her,” Erik stated quietly from where he was sitting.

Logan grunted in response as he sat back down. “In the future, she's my wife.”

“Is she waiting with the future versions of Charles and I?”

“She died. The Sentinels killed her right before I was sent back here.”

“Makes more sense now. You're not doing this for anyone else. You're doing this for her."

“Everything I will ever do is for her.”

~~~

You were thankful to wake up almost in Paris. Though the woodsy smell of James' cigars instantly overtook your senses. His leather jacket was draped over you. Glancing over at him, you saw him awake, staring out the window. You sat up, pulling the jacket off of you.

“Sleep well?” he asked, looking at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “For a chair.” You reached over and handed him the jacket. “Thanks."

“Any time.”

~~~

Your anxiety was growing with each second. Logan could sense it. But each time he tried to move closer to help you out, you moved away. That’s how you ended up sitting between Charles and Hank in the back seat while Logan drove and Erik sat in the passenger seat. The five of you hurried through the building once you arrived there. Flames flickered at your fingertips as you tried to calm down.

When you arrived at the meeting room, the blue woman you assumed was Raven was on the large table, aiming a gun at the smaller man in the corner. Your eyes moved, finding the still-conscious man on the ground near you. You stumbled back.

“Stryker," you gasped.

“Raven,” Erik called, causing Raven to pause and ignore what was going on with you.

Stryker smirked and quickly pulled out a contraption, shooting you with it. You screamed out as you began to be electrocuted. Logan roared, stepping forward as you writhed in pain. But suddenly, his mind grew hazy, and he stumbled back. Erik quickly took out Stryker and disarmed Raven. Logan’s breaths were coming short and desperate as he slid down the wall. The memories of what Stryker did to the two of you–his past, your future–played out in his mind. Logan couldn’t control it as his claws pushed through his knuckles. He could feel the tug to return to his own time, but he needed to fight. He needed to complete the mission. He needed to get to you. But for a moment, Logan’s 2023 conscience slipped away.

You stayed on the ground, the commotion around you becoming a blur as you whimpered in pain. Between both of you panicking, you and Logan missed Erik trying to kill Raven, and Raven escaped from the window.

“Where am I?" Logan panted, standing up.

“Huh?” Charles barely registered the question.

“How the hell did I get here?”

“What? You came to us."

“Who are you?”

“Charles.” Logan gripped his shoulder tightly. “Charles Xavier!”

“I don’t know you.”

“Huh?” Hank, in his Beast form, stood up behind Charles.

“What the hell is that? And where's... Y/N? Where’s Y/N?"

“She’s over there.”

As Logan rushed over to your side, Charles urged Hank to go stop Erik from hurting Raven.

“Y/N,” Logan pulled you into his arms.

“James?” you muttered.

Logan noticed Stryker unconscious beside you. “No. We need to get out of here.” He hoisted you up in his arms and glared at Charles. “Did you lead us here? To this trap?"

“What? No!" Charles exclaimed. “You're Logan, that's Y/N. I'm Charles Xavier. You spent the last couple of days with me and my friends.”

“Why?” Logan groaned as his head pounded. With a blink, Logan panted, and his 2023 consciousness was back. “Professor?”

“What happened to you?”

Logan looked down at you and then over at Stryker. He wanted to kill him, but he couldn't risk the timeline as much as he was already risking. “That man will cause a lot of pain to me and Y/N.”

“James,” you cried in his arms.

Logan tightened his grip around you and shushed you. “I've got you, sweetheart. You're safe now… I have you.” He quickly looked around. “Where’s Raven?"

“Gone."

“What?" Sirens began blaring in the distance, coming closer.

“We have to get out of here.”

Logan, still holding you tightly to his chest, followed Charles out of the building and through the panicking streets. The three of you met up with Hank and headed back to the airport. As soon as you were on the plane, you peeled yourself from Logan and curled up on a chair in the corner.

“Y/N—"

“Don’t,” you rasped, trying to hold back the onslaught of emotions. You looked up at him, tears gathering in your eyes. “I… I don't even know what to say to you."

He sat down across from you. “I’m sorry—"

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am."

"No, I don't. We’ve barely known each other for a year, and I chose to run away with you with the promise that you'd protect me. But days ago, we woke up, and you weren't the same person. You’re talking weird—in the past tense. This mission isn't adding up. Then Stryker… we walked right into a trap. So, you are not my James. Who are you?”

“I... I can’t… I can’t tell you.”

"Then I'm gone as soon as this plane lands.”

“No, please." His hands grasped yours like his life depended on it. "Please, don’t leave. I’ll do anything.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

Logan sighed. “I am your James. This is his body, but my conscience… my conscience was sent back from fifty years in the future.”

“The future?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because a war is coming. A war that destroys the world... destroys my world. But I can stop it. Well, I thought I could.”

“I need something more. What you are saying could all be a lie."

Logan sighed, thinking of something that would get you to believe him. “The night you found out about your mutation. Your father killed your mother. He believed you and her were monsters. You killed him and—"

“Enough," you yanked your hands out of Logan's grip. “I believe you.”

“Are you… are you going to leave?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, studying his eyes. You knew that if you truly wanted to, Logan would let you walk away. But you could tell that it would break his heart. There was something he was still keeping from you, something that was his true motive for doing this. You weren’t going to pressure him, though. It was a secret he obviously held too close to his heart to share.

“I don’t know," you whispered. “I need some space.”

“Okay,” he nodded, standing up. “Just... let me know if you need anything.”

You watched as Logan walked to the opposite side of the plane. His shoulders were slumped forward. He was sad, more sad than you had ever seen. It made you want to wrap him up and hold him close, but you couldn’t. Not when everything was so messed up right now.

~~~

Logan had never felt so anxious before. He didn't know what you would choose. To stay with him and give him a chance to make things right, or to walk away and possibly ruin any future with him. A part of him finally breathed when the plane landed, and you got into the car with the others. Logan could breathe a little bit more when you walked into the mansion with them.

Charles grunted, collapsing to his knees in the entryway of the mansion.

"What happened?” Logan asked, rushing to Charles' side with Hank.

“Come on,” Hank muttered, holding Charles up.

“Why can't he walk?" You asked.

“He needs his treatment," Hank responded.

“Hank, I can hear them," Charles complained in pain as Hank moved him to sit up against the wall.

“I know. It's okay."

“Can you make it stop?"

“I'll get them.” Hank rushed off.

Charles’ hands went to both sides of his head as he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a groan.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Logan said. "Pull yourself together."

“James!” You exclaimed.

“It's not over yet."

Panting, Charles opened his eyes and looked into Logan's. "You don't believe that," he retorted.

“How do you know that?”

“As these go,” Charles motioned to his legs. “This…” he touched the side of his head, "comes back. They all come back.”

“Look, I’m… I’m still here…” He glanced your way as you crouched next to Charles. “And she’s still out there. We need your help, Charles. Not like this. I need you. We can’t find Raven. Not without your powers.”

Hank's quick footsteps cut in as he joined you beside Charles. "I added a little extra because you missed a dose,” he stated.

Logan watched as Charles took the syringe. “Charles.”

The man placed it against his arm and caught Logan’s gaze again. Then he looked to you. In the brief moments that Charles had regained his powers, he had seen you in Logan’s mind. The future you. Just glimpses. He could feel the love that Logan had for you. The respect and admiration and the fear that he may never see you again. With a huff, Charles set the syringe down.

“Uh, Hank, do me a favor,” Charles said, catching his breath. "Would you help me to my study, please?”

“Come on, I got you," Hank helped Charles up.

“I can help,” you offered, coming to his other side.

The three of you headed to the study with Logan following. Hank stopped at a chair near a closet, where you helped Charles into the chair. Hank opened the closet, revealing a wheelchair.

"Are you sure about this?” Hank asked.

“Absolutely not,” responded Charles.

You helped Charles get settled into the wheelchair. Logan and Hank quietly conversed behind you. Charles caught your chin, gently forcing you to look at him.

“You are the most important thing to him," Charles whispered. “He is doing this for you.” You inhaled sharply, taking in Charles' words. “Give him a chance… These may be his last moments with you. Let him have them, no matter what happens.”

“We should head downstairs,” Hank said before you could say anything to Charles.

Charles led the way, controlling his own wheelchair over to the elevator. Logan lingered behind you, wanting to make sure he knew where you were going so that you couldn't slip away without him knowing. You gasped when you arrived downstairs, where it was all sleek, silver metal. You followed Charles down the long hallway to the door at the very end.

“When was the last time you were down here?" asked Logan.

“The last time we went looking for students," Hank answered.

“A lifetime ago,” Charles corrected.

Charles stopped in front of the door. The hole in the door lit up, shining in Charles’ eyes.

“Welcome, Professor," an automated female voice greeted before the door slid open, revealing a large sphere room.

The four of you headed down the walkway to the end. Hank immediately began turning knobs on the control panel as you looked around.

“Raven’s wounds,” Hank stated. “She won't be moving fast.”

Charles picked up the helmet and blew the dust off of it. “These are muscles I haven't stretched in a long time,” he said before slipping the helmet off. He gasped as the room turned into a red-and-white map.

“Wow,” you gasped. "What is this?”

Charles gasped and groaned under the pressure of it all. As he started to scream, the dials on the control panel began exploding. Logan quickly covered you as pieces of glass went flying everywhere.

“Charles!" Hank exclaimed as Charles tore off the helmet. “It’s all right. Are you all right?”

Logan gently grabbed your face, checking you over for injuries. “You hurt?” he asked.

“I’m fine, Jam—Logan. I’m fine," you replied.

His heart cracked a little. “Please, don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Call me Logan.”

“But everyone else—"

“There will be a time and a place for you to call me Logan. I’m still your James right now. Okay? I need to be your James."

“Okay.”

“I’ll go check the generator,” Hank said, pulling you and Logan from your own little world. He quickly left.

“It's not the machinery, is it?" Logan questioned.

“I can't do this,” Charles shook his head. “My mind—“

“Yes, you can.”

“No. It won't take it.”

“You’re just a little rusty."

“You don't understand. It's not a question of being rusty. I can flip the switches. I can turn the knobs. But my power comes from here." He pointed to his head. “It comes from…” His hand shook above his heart. "And it's broken. I feel like one of my students. Helpless.” Charles turned his wheelchair around and started heading back down the walkway. “It was a mistake coming down here. It was a mistake freeing Erik. This whole thing has been one bloody mistake. I’m sorry, Logan, but they sent back the wrong man."

“You're right.” Charles stopped. “I am. Actually, it was supposed to be you. But I was the only one who could physically make the trip. And, uh,” Logan glanced your way, “And I don’t know how long I've got here. But I do know that a long time ago—actually, a long time from now, I was your most helpless student.” Logan leaned down, gripping the armrests of the chair and getting in Charles' face. “And you unlocked my mind. You showed me what I was. You showed me what I could be. I don't know how to do that for you. You're right. I don't. But I know someone who might. Look into my mind.”

“You saw what I did to Cerebro. You don't want me inside your head."

“There's no damage you can do that hasn't already been done, trust me… Come on.”

Charles placed his hands on either side of Logan's face while you waited with bated breath. Images of Logan’s life—his most painful moments and you, his happiest, filtered through.

“You poor, poor man,” Charles gasped as your final death played before him.

“It wasn't all that bad,” Logan said, shooting you a smirk. "Look past me."

“No, I don't want your suffering. I don't want your future!"

“Look past my future. Look for your future… That’s it… That's it... That's it."

You watched as a tear streamed down Charles' face as he concentrated harder. It took a few silent moments, but eventually, Charles pulled away from Logan. The lights in the hallway flickered on.

“Find what you were looking for?” Logan wondered, a knowing look on his face.

“The powers back on," Hank stated, coming back.

“Yes,” Charles said, looking at Logan, who gave him a small smile. "Yes, it is.”

Charles looked in Cerebro while Logan looked at you. You gave him a small smile, which instantly had Logan’s eyes lighting up. You knew that Logan had to finish this mission, and you'd be by his side until the end.

next chapter >

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sceletaflores · 1 day ago

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•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @guiltyasdave <3

wip #1 • SINK IN MY WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!

there's something off with logan...

this is the feral!logan fic that won the last poll i posted. i'm almost done with it, literally all i need to do is finish up the smut but it's been kicking my ass every single time i try and sit down to actually finish it :))) which is so great and fun for me :)))

The energy in the room crackles like a storm about to break, and you feel it in your bones, in the way your skin prickles under his gaze. "I was only gone for an hour," you say, your voice measured, careful. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you." You chance a glance over your shoulder, and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs. Logan hasn’t moved an inch from his perch on the edge of the bed, but the sheer force of his presence keeps you rooted in place, heart hammering in your chest. “Hmm, that’s real sweet, baby,” he drawls, sitting up straighter now, leaning forward. The motion makes him seem larger somehow, shoulders broad and imposing in the dim light. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, and the way his gaze rakes over you feels like a physical touch, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your fingers still in the drawer, fabric slipping from your grasp as your pulse pounds in your ears. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught in the snare of his sharp, predatory focus. You turn slowly, arms falling to hang limply at your sides. "I wasn't gone long." Logan tilts his head, a low, amused sound rumbling in his chest as he rises to his feet with a fluid, deliberate ease that makes your stomach flip. “Didn’t feel that way to me, darlin’.” His voice is a low, gravelly purr, sending a shiver down your spine. “Felt like forever.” His eyes never leave yours as he crosses the room, the green completely swallowed by the dark black of his pupils as they seep into the color like oil spilling out over the surface of a lake. You’ve never seen him like this before, so hungry. "Logan," you say slowly, back pressed tightly against your dresser. "You're really starting to freak me out." Logan hums idly, head cocked to the side as he watches you. "I can hear your heartbeat." His tone is calmer now, but there’s still a dangerous edge to it, like a knife pressed just lightly enough against the skin not to break it. Your pulse races, heat simmering in your stomach despite the slight edge of fear clawing its way through your chest. He stops in front of you, close enough that his scent invades your senses strong enough to make your knees feel like they’re about to buckle beneath you. “There’s nothin’ to be scared of baby,” he mutters quietly, thick arms coming up to cage you against the dresser.

wip #2 • ALL THAT GLITTERS...

a billionaire walks into your job, and then into your apartment…

omg...a bruce wayne fic? yeah i don't know either...i just got way too into the dc universe by accident and had one (1) single idea that i thought fit his character too well to not write it. will i actually ever post this? i don't know. am i having fun with it anyway? yes, maybe a little too much fun. don't read into it i'm just throwing this at the wall because it's plagued my mind for days.

You snort, shaking your head as you walk down the hall, but you can't help the way your mind starts wandering. Maybe Rachel is right, was that your big moment? The story you'd pass down to your grandchildren once you got old enough that your filter had gone? "Yes, it's true, grandma had one crazy night with the Bruce Wayne." You shake your head, dispelling all thoughts of what might have happened had you not spent the whole lunch nervously poking at a way too overpriced plate of pasta and shoving your own foot in your mouth. Bruce—Mr. Wayne—clearly felt some kind of pity towards you that day. He was known for his charitableness, helping you score that holiday bonus and taking you out was just that—charity. You had to admit it was good press, a good headline to splash across the magazines he frequented. You could see it so clearly in your mind. BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY BRUCE WAYNE CHARMS BUMBLING SALES GIRL WITH LUXURY LUNCH! HEART OF GOLD, OR JUST ANOTHER PR STUNT? You sigh, the memory of his perfectly polite smile gnawing at you. He didn’t look uncomfortable, though. If anything, he seemed...amused. Not in the cruel, condescending way you feared, but in the same way someone might look at a puppy struggling to climb a too-tall staircase. Endearing, maybe, but ultimately a fleeting novelty. It wasn’t like the Bruce—Mr. Wayne—was secretly harboring some deep, hidden interest in you. He’d paid for lunch, helped you out with a well-placed favor, and probably forgot about you the moment he left the restaurant. A man like him doesn't chase after someone like you. He chases after pretty trust fund babies, A-list actresses, supermodels. Not women working commission at Harrow & Bloom that live in broken down apartment complexes where there's only one elevator that's been out of order since you moved in. And honestly? That was fine. Better, even. You didn't need that kind of stress in your life, the stress of being thrown off the deep end and into the public eye all because you were photographed on your solemn walk of shame out of Wayne Manor. You were over it. Completely over it. That's what you tell yourself as your wrench the door open with a little more force than necessary and— And Bruce Wayne is on the other side, standing in the hallway of your shitty apartment complex in a perfectly pressed suit looking extremely out of place. Bruce Wayne is on the other side of your door. The door that you slam right back shut directly in his face just as he opens his mouth to speak. What the fuck?

kisses!

i know it's not wednesday anymore...but i'll tag some beloved mutuals anyway! sorry if you've been tagged already <3

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @elflutter @eupheme @javier-pena @raeinyourdreams @moonlight-prose @silverskyeline @superhoeva

#wip wednesday #tag you're all it #even though it isn't even wednesday #anymore #but still!#kisses #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #x men x reader #marvel x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #batman x you #dc x reader #dc x you

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loneworldgazer · 2 days ago

Note

Hello, I am Muhammad, from Gaza City, father of three children. We live a very harsh and difficult life. We are being bombed on a daily basis, and now we are witnessing a real famine. Food is no longer available in the markets, even flour is no longer available. I lost my job since the beginning of the war. We depend on this campaign to feed my children. I hope you can help me by donating. I find it very difficult to get support. My campaign is documented with the Go Ghost campaign, Ibtisam, Al-Nabulsi and Al-Hussein, and the funds for the evacuation of Gaza were verified with the number 240 https://www.gofundme.com/f/95gn2-urgent-relief-help-my-family-evacuate

pls spread and help!!

putting popular tags, urgent!!!

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kortsitron · 3 days ago

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Insecurity

✮ PARING Loki Laufeyson × Trans Male! Reader

✮ WARNINGS/TAGS fluff, body dysmorphia, insecurity, comfort, body worship, mention of gender dysphoria, established relationship, jotun! loki, reassurance, soft fic, spicy but no smut, bottom! loki

✮ SUMMARY Loki was always insecure of his body and you're here to show that you love him regardless

✮ A/N This honestly came randomly to me while taking a look at Loki's design in Marvel Rivals. I was so confused as to why he would have so much armor/clothing. Not only do we get a glimpse of his skin only on his face but he also seems to be wearing a lot of layers too. And then I remember he is a Frost Giant and then I could understand if he perhaps had some kind of insecurity because of that, after all it would make a lot of sense. So that's why here's the fic because Loki deserves all the comfort and love he can get <3

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Ever since you started dating Loki, you had never seemed naked. Never.

You weren't going to make him undress if he clearly wasn't comfortable with it. You just accepted that he wasn’t comfortable with showing his body and you decided not to press in the issue. Even though you honestly wanted to.

You wanted to know what was going with your partner. Why was he hiding his body from you? He knew he could trust you, right?

You found him lying in bed, reading some Asgardian book while the lamp from the nightstand eliminated his sharp features. Whenever he was reading, he had a small frown on his forehead, so focused on the contents of the book. This time was no different.

You laid down next to him, watching as he was engrossed by the book, silently admiring him. They way his gorgeous green eyes were entranced by the words before him or the way his raven black hair. Or they way he would quietly lick his lips without even noticing it.

But he turned to look at you, his hand putting the bookmark inside his book before closing it. “Are you bored, my darling?” He asked with a soft expression before putting away the book, his chilly fingers moving against your forehead to push the strands of your hair back where they belong.

You shook his head, Loki tilted his. “Then what is it? You look as if you require some attention.” His hand moved to cheek, gently caressing it.

“I was just wondering…” You spoke up and he hummed in response.

“Wondering, you say? Perhaps we can wonder together.” His tone was soft and encouraging. It made you even more nervous to ask.

“Why do you always… hide your body so much?” The words finally left your lips and your mind. You had been wondering for so long and now you wondered what kind of answer you were going to get. Was he going to lie to you?

Loki's smile fell almost instantly when he heard your question. His hand stopped its motions as he thought about how to answer you without revealing too much.

You saw the flash of fear in his eyes. “I-I do not…” He wanted to disagree, say you're imagining things or anything else to not have this conversation. But he knew he could not hide the truth from you. You were telling him everything, all your troubles. It was not right for him to hide something when he knew he could trust you.

He looked deep into your eyes as if searching for any reason why he should not share his insecurities with you. Any reason to have an excuse to not have this conversation. But he found none.

Loki let out a sigh. “I do not feel good about my own body…” He finally admitted, and you were not sure what to say. In Loki's mind, the silence was stretching for hours, even though it was actually just a few seconds.

“I must–” He moved to stand up, leave the bed and you. He was scared you were judging him, even though he normally knew you would never.

You grabbed his wrist gently, stopping him from leaving. “No, Loki. Please, let's talk.” He saw the pleading expression on your face, how much you wanted to help him, make him feel okay.

He sat back down, his hand grabbed yours as he was seeking your reassurance and support. He couldn't find the strength to look into your eyes as looked down at your hand.

“Ever since I found out I was a Frost Giant, I couldn't… I did not want anyone to see my body anymore. Especially knowing how Thor and Odin used to hate Jotunheim and its people.” He explained taking a small breath and continuing.

“Even despite the fact that I know neither of them hate Jotuns anymore, I… couldn't help but hate that I was not one of them… not a true Asgardian like everyone around. How I could not fit it, always feeling like there was something wrong about me and I couldn't understand why.”

He finally looked up at you, so miserable and hurt. You knew he was Frost Giant, he told you so yourself and you never minded. But you didn't think it would be a reason for his insecurity.

“You're still the most gorgeous person in my eyes. And that won't change, that I can promise you.” You let go of his hand to cup his face. He leaned into your touch, leaning a soft kiss to your palm.

“Would you let me show you how much I adore you?” Your time was soft and the question caught Loki off guard.

Once more, he wanted to disagree. But at the same time, the thought of you showing how much you adored him sent a shiver down his spine.

“Yes, please.” His tone was a little husky, his eyes watching you, awaiting for what you were going to do.

You let go of his face, he was already missing your touch. Your hands moved to his shoulders, wanting to take off his robe. Your eyes found his, watching for any sign that you should stop. But you didn't, you only found anticipation.

You slowly slide the robe down his shoulders, his pale skin revealed to your eyes. His breathing hitched, he felt watched, but not judged.

“You're so pretty…” You whispered, wanting to reassure him. He felt so cold, but not in an unpleasant way. You saw him shiver beneath your touch and you smiled softly.

As his robe was finally off, you gently pushed him back on his. Your hand slided down his chest as you decided to speak up.

“I know how it feels when you're not happy with your body. Feeling how your body does not feel right, hiding it because you don't want anyone to see it.” You said softly. Loki needed to know he wasn't alone.

Loki's hands moved to your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know, my darling. I'm glad to know I am not alone.” One of his hands moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer.

“Kiss me, dearest…” He whispered before your lips met his in a slow, gentle kiss.

As the two of you kissed, you felt something under your fingers and as your eyes fluttered open, you saw Loki in his true form.

Blue skin with some lighter marks and lines, and the most beautiful crimson eyes you've ever seen.

“Wow…” You whispered, eyes widening as you took in the view. He was lovely and perfect just the way he was.

“I hope the view is to your liking.” His voice was quiet, with a hint of insecurity.

You let out a soft chuckle. “It is to my liking. As you are as a whole.” Leaning down, you kissed his neck, a soft whimper falling from Loki's lips. And you slowly went down. You kept kissing him, giving him little appreciative touches here and there. You saw how he was letting go, relaxing under your touch.

You could practically feel him melt under your touches and kisses. His soft, cold skin felt so perfect under your lips. Whimpers and soft moans falling from his lips, along with your name. He kept repeating it almost as if it was a prayer.

“Don't stop, my love…” He breathed out, his fingers tangling itself in your hair.

“I am not playing on doing so…” Another soft moan escaped his lips as you said that, kissing down his stomach. It was going to be a very long night.

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urdreamydoodles · 2 days ago

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X-Men x Reader (Part.2)

You protect them during a fight

Characters: Cable, Mystique, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Magik, Warren Worthington III, Alex Summers, Kitty Pryde, Jubilee, Psylocke, Sunspot, Lorna Dane, Domino, Dazzler, Morph, Legion & Lucas Bishop

I don't often do all 32 X-Men characters I have on my list, but I love doing it so much. I really need to do this more often. If you have any X-Men you'd like me to add to my list, please let me know, I'd be happy to do so.

Nathan Summers aka. Cable

- Nathan was used to being the one in control, his military training and experience making him the protector in any situation. So when you stepped in to shield him during a fight, he was caught off guard. “What the hell are you doing?” he barked, his stern voice masking the panic in his eyes. After the battle, he pulled you aside, his expression a mix of anger and concern. “That was reckless,” he said gruffly. “You could’ve been killed.”

- Despite his harsh words, Nathan couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d done. He found himself watching you more closely, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. One evening, as the two of you worked on repairing some equipment, he finally spoke up. “Why did you do it?” he asked, his tone softer than usual. When you shrugged and said you couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt, his expression softened.

- Over the next few days, Nathan struggled to reconcile his feelings. He admired your bravery but hated the thought of you putting yourself in danger for him. One night, as the two of you sat by the fire, he finally opened up. “I’ve spent my whole life protecting others,” he said quietly. “It’s… strange to have someone do the same for me.”

- As your bond deepened, Nathan found himself opening up to you in ways he hadn’t with anyone else. He admired your strength and resilience, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. One day, as you trained together in the Danger Room, he finally admitted, “You mean a lot to me. More than I realized.” His confession was quiet but sincere, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours with unwavering intensity.

- From then on, Nathan became even more protective of you, though he respected your independence. “We’re a team,” he said one day, his hand resting on your shoulder. “But if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I swear I’ll lock you in the safest room I can find. You’re too important to lose.”

Raven Darkholme aka. Mystique

- Mystique had always been a lone wolf, relying on her shape-shifting abilities and razor-sharp wit to keep her one step ahead of everyone else. She wasn’t used to letting anyone get close, so when you threw yourself into the fray to protect her during a fight, she was stunned. The enemy's blow barely missed you, and Mystique retaliated with a ferocity that left no question about her skill. Once the battle was over, she grabbed your arm and pulled you aside, her yellow eyes blazing. “What were you thinking?” she demanded, though her voice held a note of something that wasn’t quite anger.

- Back at the hideout, Mystique paced the room, her usual composure shaken. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger for me,” she said sharply, refusing to meet your gaze. But her frustration wasn’t about your actions—it was about the unfamiliar feeling of someone caring enough to risk themselves for her. It left her feeling exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

- Over the next few days, Mystique kept her distance, though her eyes always seemed to find you in a crowd. She hated how vulnerable she felt, yet she couldn’t help but admire your bravery. One evening, as you bandaged a small wound she’d sustained during another mission, she finally broke the silence. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” she muttered, though there was a flicker of a smile on her lips. “But… thank you.”

- It didn’t take long for Mystique to realize that her feelings for you went deeper than she was ready to admit. She began showing her affection in small, subtle ways: a protective arm during battles, a rare smile when you cracked a joke, or a quiet moment of vulnerability when she let her guard down around you.

- When Mystique finally confessed her feelings, it was with her trademark bluntness. “I don’t let people in easily,” she said, her tone serious as she looked into your eyes. “But you’ve managed to worm your way into my life, and now I can’t imagine it without you. Just don’t make me regret it.” From that day on, she became fiercely protective of you, though she never lost her sharp edge.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank was used to being the calm and rational one, always the first to assess a situation logically. So when you stepped in front of him during a fight, shielding him from an incoming attack, he was completely taken aback. “Are you out of your mind?” he exclaimed, his blue fur bristling as he quickly neutralized the threat. Once the battle was over, he turned to you, his golden eyes filled with a mix of anger and concern. “That was incredibly reckless,” he said, though his voice softened as he added, “but… thank you.”

- After the fight, Hank couldn’t stop replaying the moment in his mind. He admired your courage but was deeply troubled by the thought of you getting hurt. One evening, as the two of you worked together in his lab, he brought it up. “You know,” he began, his voice tinged with hesitation, “you don’t have to prove your bravery to me. I already think the world of you.”

- Over time, Hank found himself drawn to your selflessness and determination. He started looking out for you more during missions, his protective instincts kicking in whenever you were in danger. “If you’re going to keep being this reckless,” he said one day with a wry smile, “I’ll have to invent some kind of force field to keep you safe.”

- The turning point came one night as the two of you shared a quiet moment in the mansion’s library. Hank hesitated before finally speaking. “You mean a great deal to me,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is… I care about you more than I ever thought possible.” His confession was earnest, his golden eyes meeting yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

- From then on, Hank became even more devoted to you, though he always respected your independence. “You’re remarkable,” he said one day as he adjusted his glasses. “But let’s make a deal: I’ll protect you when you need it, and you can do the same for me. Agreed?”

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- Piotr was no stranger to protecting others—his steel body and gentle heart made him the ultimate shield. So when you jumped in to defend him during a fight, he was completely caught off guard. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his deep voice filled with concern as he quickly moved to shield you in return. Even as he dispatched the enemy, his thoughts were on you.

- After the battle, Piotr couldn’t hide his worry. “Why would you put yourself in harm’s way for me?” he asked, his brows furrowed as he searched your face for an answer. When you told him you couldn’t just stand by and watch him get hurt, his expression softened. “You are brave,” he said quietly, “but you must let me protect you. It is what I do.”

- Over the next few days, Piotr found himself watching you more closely, his protective instincts stronger than ever. He admired your courage but couldn’t shake the fear of losing you. One evening, as the two of you painted together in his studio, he finally spoke up. “You have a kind heart,” he said, his voice gentle. “It is one of the many reasons I care for you so deeply.”

- It wasn’t long before Piotr’s feelings for you became impossible to ignore. He began showing his affection in small ways: offering to carry heavy things for you, making sure you were always safe during missions, and sharing quiet moments where his walls came down. “You are my greatest inspiration,” he admitted one night, his steel hand brushing yours.

- When Piotr finally confessed his feelings, it was with his characteristic sincerity. “I do not know what I would do if something happened to you,” he said, his blue eyes filled with emotion. “You are everything to me.” From that moment on, Piotr became even more devoted to you, his love as unyielding as his steel form.

Illyana Rasputina aka. Magik

- Illyana was used to being the one in control, her mastery of sorcery and combat making her a formidable force. So when you stepped in to protect her during a battle, she was equal parts shocked and infuriated. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her Soul Sword cutting through the enemy with ease. Once the fight was over, she turned to you, her blue eyes blazing. “I don’t need saving,” she snapped, though there was a flicker of something softer beneath her anger.

- After the fight, Illyana couldn’t stop thinking about your actions. She admired your bravery but hated the thought of you putting yourself in danger for her. One night, as the two of you sat together in Limbo, she finally brought it up. “You’re reckless,” she said bluntly, though her voice lacked its usual edge. “But… thank you.”

- Over time, Illyana began to see you in a new light. She admired your selflessness and found herself drawn to your unwavering determination. “You’re infuriating,” she said one day, a rare smile tugging at her lips. “But you’re also… amazing.”

- As your bond deepened, Illyana began letting her guard down around you, something she rarely did with anyone. One night, as the two of you trained together, she finally confessed her feelings. “I’ve spent so much time pushing people away,” she said quietly. “But with you… I don’t want to do that anymore.”

- From that moment on, Illyana became fiercely protective of you, though she respected your strength and independence. “We’re a team,” she said one day, her hand resting on yours. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll teleport you to Limbo and leave you there. Deal?”

Warren Worthington III aka. Angel

- Warren was accustomed to being the protector, his towering wings and privileged upbringing giving him a sense of responsibility for those around him. So when you threw yourself between him and an attacker during a skirmish, using your own body as a shield, Warren was utterly stunned. After quickly dispatching the threat with a powerful swoop of his wings, he turned to you, his blue eyes wide with worry. “What were you thinking?” he demanded, his voice tinged with both anger and disbelief.

- Later, as the two of you regrouped, Warren couldn’t shake the image of you risking yourself for him. “You don’t need to protect me,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “That’s my job, not yours.” Despite his protests, there was a hint of admiration in his gaze that he couldn’t quite hide.

- Over the following weeks, Warren found himself drawn to your courage and selflessness. He began hovering around you during missions, his wings instinctively shielding you from danger. “If you’re going to keep pulling stunts like that,” he joked one day, “I’m going to need a bigger wingspan to cover us both.”

- It was during a quiet moment in the mansion gardens that Warren finally let his guard down. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. “I’ve spent so much of my life protecting others, but you… you make me feel like I don’t always have to.”

- When Warren confessed his feelings, it was as grand as you might expect from someone as extravagant as him. He took you flying, his arms secure around you as he soared through the sky. “You’re the only person who makes me feel free,” he admitted, his voice barely audible over the wind. From that day forward, Warren became your steadfast partner, his love for you as boundless as the sky itself.

Kitty Pryde aka. Shadowcat

- Kitty had always been fiercely independent, her ability to phase through danger making her a natural at taking care of herself. So when you stepped in to protect her during a mission, shielding her from a blast, she was floored. “You could’ve been hurt!” she exclaimed, her brown eyes wide with worry as she checked you for injuries. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

- After the mission, Kitty couldn’t stop thinking about your actions. She admired your bravery but was also frustrated that you’d put yourself in harm’s way for her. “You’re not invincible, you know,” she said later, her tone a mix of concern and affection. “Next time, maybe let me handle it?”

- Despite her initial protests, Kitty couldn’t deny the growing admiration she felt for you. She started seeking you out more often, whether it was to partner up during training sessions or just to share a late-night snack in the kitchen. “You’re pretty amazing,” she admitted one evening, her cheeks tinged pink.

- It wasn’t long before Kitty’s feelings for you became impossible to ignore. One night, as the two of you worked on a mission briefing together, she hesitated before speaking. “I’ve been thinking,” she began, her voice unusually hesitant. “You’re always looking out for me, but maybe… I want to look out for you, too.”

- From that moment on, Kitty became your fiercest supporter and most loyal partner. “We make a good team,” she said one day with a grin, slipping her hand into yours. “But let’s try not to scare each other so much, okay?”

Alex Summers aka. Havok

- Alex had always been a bit reckless, his raw power often making him the first to charge into battle. So when you stepped in to protect him during a fight, absorbing an attack meant for him, Alex was furious—but not at you. “What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted as he unleashed a blast of energy at the enemy, his worry evident even in his anger.

- After the fight, Alex cornered you, his blue eyes blazing. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, his voice shaking. “I can handle myself, but you… you mean too much to me to lose.” His words caught both of you off guard, and he quickly turned away, running a hand through his hair.

- Over the next few days, Alex couldn’t stop replaying the moment in his head. He admired your bravery but hated the thought of you putting yourself in danger for him. One evening, as the two of you sat by the firepit at the mansion, he finally broke the silence. “You’re incredible,” he admitted, his voice low. “But you’ve got to let me protect you, too.”

- It was during a quiet mission debrief that Alex finally let his feelings show. “I’ve been through a lot,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “But you… you make me want to be better. To be someone worth protecting.”

- From that moment on, Alex became your fiercest protector and most devoted partner. “We’re in this together,” he said one day, his hand resting on your shoulder. “But if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll blast whoever put you in danger halfway across the world.”

Jubilation Lee aka. Jubilee

- Jubilee was the first to crack a joke in any situation, her bright personality and pyrotechnic powers lighting up even the darkest days. So when you jumped in front of her during a fight, shielding her from an incoming attack, she was completely floored. “Are you crazy?” she yelled, unleashing a barrage of fireworks at the enemy. “I had that under control!”

- Back at the mansion, Jubilee couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d done. “You’re a total dork, you know that?” she said later, her tone teasing but her eyes serious. “But… thanks. I guess.”

- Over the next few days, Jubilee found herself watching you more closely, her usual carefree attitude giving way to something deeper. “You’re pretty cool for someone who doesn’t have explosive powers,” she said one day with a grin, though the compliment was genuine.

- It wasn’t long before Jubilee’s feelings for you became impossible to ignore. One night, as the two of you sat on the roof of the mansion watching the stars, she turned to you, her usual bravado gone. “You’re always looking out for me,” she said quietly. “But maybe… I want to look out for you, too.”

- From that moment on, Jubilee became your biggest cheerleader and most loyal partner. “You’re stuck with me now,” she said with a playful smirk, her hand slipping into yours. “So don’t even think about doing anything dumb without me around.”

Betsy Braddock aka. Psylocke

- Betsy wasn’t one to let her guard down, her telepathic and telekinetic abilities making her keenly aware of every threat around her. Yet during a heated battle, you stepped in to shield her from an unexpected attack, catching her completely off guard. After dispatching the enemy with a razor-sharp psychic blade, she turned to you, her usually composed face filled with shock. “Why would you do that?” she asked, her voice tight with a mix of anger and concern.

- Betsy couldn’t hide her frustration when she confronted you later. “I don’t need protection,” she said firmly, though her tone softened as she added, “especially not from you.” She couldn’t quite understand why your actions had shaken her so much. You were brave—recklessly so—and it unsettled her to think of you putting yourself in danger for her.

- Over time, Betsy began to notice how deeply she cared for you. She found herself scanning your mind during missions, not to intrude, but to ensure you were safe. “You’re insufferably selfless, you know that?” she muttered one evening, her eyes narrowing even as a faint smile played on her lips.

- During a quiet moment in the training room, Betsy finally let her walls down. “You make me feel… vulnerable,” she admitted, her violet eyes meeting yours. “And that terrifies me. But it’s also why I can’t imagine losing you.”

- From then on, Betsy became fiercely protective of you, though she’d never admit it outright. “We’re a team,” she said one night, her psychic blade flickering in her hand. “But if you ever try to shield me again, you’d better be ready for me to return the favor—tenfold.”

Roberto da Costa aka. Sunspot

- Roberto was confident, charming, and powerful, used to being in the thick of battle with his solar-fueled abilities. But when you stepped between him and an energy blast, your quick reflexes saving him from harm, he was left momentarily speechless. “Are you serious?” he exclaimed, his usual smirk replaced by genuine worry. “You could’ve been hurt!”

- Later, as the adrenaline wore off, Roberto couldn’t stop pacing. “I’m supposed to be the one protecting you, not the other way around,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. He wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of such selflessness, and it shook him more than he cared to admit.

- Over the next few days, Roberto’s usual bravado gave way to something more genuine. He started hovering around you during missions, his energy crackling protectively whenever danger arose. “You’re making me crazy, you know that?” he teased one evening, though the concern in his voice was real.

- One night, under the glow of a flickering campfire during a mission, Roberto finally confessed his feelings. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he said, his dark eyes softening. “But you don’t have to do it alone. Let me take some of that weight for you.”

- From that moment on, Roberto became your most devoted partner, his love for you shining as brightly as his powers. “You’re my light,” he said with a grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “And I’ll fight like hell to make sure nothing dims that.”

Lorna Dane aka. Polaris

- Lorna was a powerhouse, her mastery over magnetism giving her a sense of control in even the most chaotic situations. But during a particularly intense battle, when you used yourself as a shield to protect her, she was caught completely off guard. “Are you out of your mind?” she shouted as she sent a metal barrier flying to neutralize the threat. “What were you thinking?”

- Back at the mansion, Lorna couldn’t stop replaying the moment in her mind. “You don’t need to prove anything to me,” she said later, her green eyes filled with worry. “I already know how amazing you are. Just… don’t scare me like that again.”

- Despite her initial frustration, Lorna found herself thinking more about your bravery. She started watching you more closely, her concern for your well-being growing into something deeper. “You’re impossible,” she muttered one day, though the faint smile on her lips betrayed her affection.

- It wasn’t until a late-night conversation in the mansion’s workshop that Lorna finally opened up. “I’ve spent so much of my life trying to protect the people I care about,” she said, her voice soft. “But with you… it’s different. You make me feel like I don’t always have to be the strong one.”

- From that moment on, Lorna became fiercely protective of you, her magnetic fields often wrapping around you like an invisible shield. “We’re in this together,” she said one day, her hand brushing against yours. “But next time, let me take the hits, okay? You’re way too important to me.”

Neena Thurman aka. Domino

- Domino’s luck powers meant she was used to being the one who defied danger, her natural confidence making her a force to be reckoned with. So when you leapt in to protect her during a mission, taking a hit that had been aimed at her, she was furious. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she demanded, her sharp gaze locking onto yours as she dispatched the remaining enemies with deadly precision.

- After the fight, Neena pulled you aside, her usual cool demeanor giving way to frustration. “I don’t need a hero,” she said, her tone biting but her eyes betraying a flicker of concern. “That’s my job.” Despite her protests, she couldn’t shake the feeling of gratitude mixed with worry that had settled in her chest.

- Over the next few days, Neena’s behavior toward you began to change. She started sticking closer during missions, her sharp eyes always scanning for threats in your direction. “You’ve got a death wish, don’t you?” she joked one day, though the protectiveness in her tone was undeniable.

- One evening, as the two of you sat on the mansion’s rooftop, Neena finally let her guard down. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” she said, her voice softer than usual. “But I guess that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you.”

- From that moment on, Domino became your fiercest ally and most loyal partner. “We make a pretty good team,” she said with a grin, her hand brushing against yours. “Just try not to get yourself killed, okay? I’m not lucky enough to find someone like you twice.”

Alison Blaire aka. Dazzler

- You had always admired Alison’s fearless attitude and her ability to turn sound into light, dazzling enemies with her powers as well as her presence. During a particularly chaotic mission, you noticed an enemy targeting her while she was focusing on saving civilians. Without hesitation, you threw yourself into the fray, using every bit of your strength to shield her. When the dust settled, Alison stood there, her hands glowing faintly, her mouth slightly open in shock. “What the hell was that?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

- Later, Alison found you nursing your injuries and sat beside you, arms crossed, a mixture of anger and gratitude on her face. “You’re brave,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But seriously, you don’t have to protect me. I’ve been doing this long enough to handle myself.” Yet despite her words, you caught her stealing glances at you when she thought you weren’t looking.

- Over the next few missions, Alison became more protective of you, even if she’d never admit it outright. “Stay close, okay?” she’d say casually, positioning herself between you and danger. Her light shows became brighter and more ferocious when you were in harm’s way, and she started to realize how much she cared about your safety.

- One night, after a show she put on for the team to lighten the mood, Alison finally opened up. “You’ve got this way of making me feel like I’m more than just a performer,” she said, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of her powers. “And that scares the hell out of me.”

- From that moment on, Alison’s vibrant personality softened when it came to you. She’d use her powers to create private light displays just for you, her dazzling performances carrying an unspoken promise. “I don’t need saving,” she said one night, her hand brushing yours. “But if you ever need it, I’ll blind the whole world for you.”

Kevin Sydney aka. Morph

- Morph had always been the team’s class clown, using his shapeshifting abilities to lighten the mood in even the darkest moments. So when you threw yourself in front of him during a fight, taking a blow meant for him, he was completely unprepared for the surge of emotions that followed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he exclaimed, pulling you back to safety. “What are you doing? I’m the comic relief—I’m supposed to be the one pulling stupid stunts!”

- Back at the mansion, Kevin couldn’t stop hovering around you, cracking jokes to hide his worry. “I get it—you wanted to impress me,” he said with a wink. “But next time, try not to, you know, almost die?” Despite his lighthearted tone, his eyes gave away just how shaken he was by the incident.

- Over the next few days, Morph’s usual antics became more focused on you. He’d shapeshift into ridiculous versions of himself to make you laugh or shift into your likeness to mimic your heroics. “See? I can be the noble protector too,” he teased, though his protectiveness became more genuine as his feelings for you deepened.

- One evening, during a rare quiet moment, Kevin finally dropped his playful facade. “I joke around a lot,” he admitted, his voice unusually serious. “But you? You make me want to be better—someone worth protecting, not just entertaining.”

- From then on, Morph’s shapeshifting abilities became a tool for both laughter and love. He’d transform into a shield or armor to keep you safe during missions, always with a quip on his lips. “I’ve got your back,” he’d say with a grin. “Literally. And I always will.”

David Haller aka. Legion

- Being with David meant navigating his fractured mind and the chaos that came with his immense powers. During a mission gone wrong, you saw one of his personalities struggling to take control, leaving him vulnerable. Without a second thought, you stepped in, shielding him from an incoming attack. When he came to, David’s mismatched eyes were wide with disbelief. “Why would you do that?” he asked, his voice trembling. “Do you have any idea how dangerous I am?”

- David tried to distance himself from you after that, convinced he was too unstable to deserve your protection. “You can’t keep doing that,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I can’t… I can’t be responsible for you getting hurt.” But no matter how hard he tried to push you away, you refused to leave his side, determined to show him that he was worth protecting.

- Over time, David began to let you in, trusting you in ways he hadn’t trusted anyone before. You became his anchor, your presence helping him regain control when his personalities threatened to overwhelm him. “You’re not scared of me,” he said one day, his voice filled with wonder. “How is that even possible?”

- One night, as you sat together in the quiet of the mansion’s garden, David finally let his walls crumble. “You’re the first person who’s ever made me feel… whole,” he admitted, his hand shaking as it reached for yours. “I don’t know how you do it, but I don’t want to lose it.”

- From then on, David’s love for you became a stabilizing force in his life. He used his powers with newfound confidence, always keeping you in his mind as a source of strength. “You saved me,” he said one day, his voice steady for the first time in a long while. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to save me again.”

- Bishop was always the soldier, the protector, his rigid sense of duty driving him to shield others from harm. So when you stepped in to protect him during a mission, intercepting an attack that would have taken him down, he was furious. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, his usually calm demeanor replaced by uncharacteristic anger. “I don’t need saving!”

Lucas Bishop aka. Bishop

- Later, Bishop found himself unable to stop thinking about your actions. He sought you out, his stern expression softening as he spoke. “You’re brave,” he admitted reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean you have to put yourself in harm’s way for me.” Despite his words, he couldn’t deny the respect and admiration growing in his chest.

- Over time, Bishop started watching you more closely during missions, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive whenever you were in danger. “Stay close to me,” he’d say, his voice gruff but filled with an undercurrent of concern. It was clear that your courage had left an indelible mark on him.

- One evening, as the two of you sat together cleaning your gear, Bishop finally let his guard down. “I’ve always been the one protecting others,” he said, his voice low. “But you… you make me realize it’s okay to rely on someone else. And that scares me.”

- From that moment on, Bishop’s love for you became a quiet but unyielding presence. He fought harder, trained harder, always keeping your safety at the forefront of his mind. “You’re my partner,” he said one day, his hand resting on your shoulder. “And I’ll protect you with everything I’ve got. But don’t you dare risk yourself like that again.”

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aphrcdites · 1 year ago

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the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

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silverskyeline · 4 months ago

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thinking about the fact that he was just hiding back there?? the whole time they were driving?? bro was definitely curled up like a cat like >:C

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celestiamour · 2 months ago

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logan howlett vs hugh jackman

(photos not mine, from pinterest & twitter)

#💞. the princess is in love #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #x men #x men x reader #marvel cast

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mcntsee · 7 months ago

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I need someone to explain to me WHY y/n picks outfits like we are playing EPISODE and RAN OUT OF GEMS!?!!?

#reader insert #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows x reader #fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #five hargreaves x reader #hobie brown x reader #harry potter x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barns x reader #steve rogers x reader #stranger things x reader #criminal minds x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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just-dreaming-marvel · 5 hours ago

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Love That Burns ~ Ending 1 ~ 43

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,745ish

Summary: The group still tries to stop Raven, despite the setbacks.

Warning(s): a lot of movie dialogue, fights, injures, character death(s)

Notes: Good luck.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You watched in awe as Charles connected to the minds of others to speak to Raven. When the conversation ended, Charles sighed and took off the helmet.

“Where is she?” Logan pressed.

“She’s in an airport, boarding a place,” Charles responded. "She could be going anywhere."

Logan sighed, taking a moment to think. “Get some rest, Charles. We'll track her in the morning and find out exactly where she's going.”

“Feel free to use any of the extra rooms,” Hank offered.

“Thank you,” you said.

Silently, you and Logan headed upstairs. You let him take the lead. Without even realizing it, Logan walked straight to where your room sat in the mansion. Of course, it wasn't your room currently, and you didn't even know it was your room.

“Uh,” Logan opened the room to reveal a queen bed, “take this room. I'll be next door.”

“James,” you caught his arm before he could leave. Your stomach was in knots due to the situation and all the nerves, making being alone sound terrible. “Stay with me?"

Logan could see it in your eyes; you were serious. He didn't question you as he nodded and guided you into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Where do you want me?”

“I know you often sleep on the floor, but… just this once, could you maybe hold me?”

His heart was thundering in his chest. All he wanted to do since he got here was hold you. “Are—Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t. I just… let me get cleaned up.”

"Of course.”

Logan watched as you slipped into the attached bathroom. He peeled his jacket and boots off before unbuttoning his shirt, leaving him in his jeans and white tank top. He wasn’t planning on sleeping, so getting fully undressed was useless. Logan was already lying on the bed, a cigar twirling through his fingers, when you stepped out in your underwear and a t-shirt you found in the bathroom. You walked over to the bed and slipped underneath the covers before turning to face Logan.

“Are you going to get comfortable?” you wondered.

“Not planning on sleeping,” Logan replied. He wanted to pull you into him, but he didn't want to rush you. He needed to do this had your pace, not his own.

“Oh.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do what you asked.”

You moved closer, and Logan took that as a sign, pulling you all the way into him. You rested your head against his chest, along with one of your hands.

“I’m sorry," you whispered.

“What for?"

“For whatever happened to me.” Logan inhaled sharply. “You don't have to tell me. But I am sorry… what will happen when you go back?"

“I don’t know.”

“I mean, what will happen to you."

Logan sighed. "The me you were with will come back, and the two of you can continue running.”

“Should we?”

The memories he had of those first years with you in that house in the mountains played out in his mind. “If that's what you want… if you still trust me that way.”

“I… I do…"

“Then run with me. Forget about this and just let things happen.”

“And what if things change so much? And that isn’t possible?"

“Then stay safe. Whatever you do, stay safe.” He moved you both so that he could meet your eyes. “Promise me."

“I promise.” Your eyes flickered to his lips causing you to lightly lick yours. “I guess, someday… we…"

“Yes.”

You laughed. "You didn't even let me finish."

“Don't have to… I know you.”

“Yes, I guess you do.”

“It will take time, but you'll know me, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

He leaned in and held a kiss to your forehead. Both of you closed your eyes, savoring the moment. “You should get some sleep.”

“Okay… Goodnight, James."

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

~~~

You were sound asleep when Logan finally lit his cigar. He was caught up in his own mind when a knock came at the door.

“Yeah?” he called out as loudly as he could without waking you.

Hank opened the door. “You know that those things can give you cancer?” he said, looking at the cigar. Logan gave him an unphased look, taking another drag. “I’ve done some toxicology tests in the lab, and—“

“You want something?”

“Yeah, I’m… I know it's complicated, and there's probably all kinds of rules and reasons for what you can and can't say, but I was wondering if you could tell me… in the future, do I make it?”

“No."

“Oh. Okay. It’s okay. Thanks." Hank went to close the door.

“Hey, kid?” Hank glanced back in. "It's just the world I came from.”

~~~

You woke up when Logan gasped awake, sitting up. You sat up to meet him.

"Are you okay?” You asked. It seemed like the two of you were constantly asking each together that lately.

His breath was coming out in short spurts, his eyes wide and frantic. “Rogue,” he mumbled. “She's alive… and with her powers.”

“Rogue?”

Logan shook his head, remembering where he was and that you didn't know what he was talking about. “No one… yet.”

Suddenly, Hank burst into the room. “Raven was here," he stated. "I screwed up.”

“Shit.”

You quickly threw on some pants as Logan grabbed his shirt, and you followed Hank down to Cerebro. Charles was already there, looking at the damage Raven had done to the control panel. Hank picked up the broken helmet.

“Can't track her now," he said.

“She’s cut her ties," said Charles.

“Hey, I saw in the news last night that there's going to be an announcement in Washington this afternoon about a new protocol for mutants."

“Show us,” Logan demanded.

After getting dressed for the day, the four of you found yourselves in a small closet full of screens and other technology.

“I set the system I designed to record any news about Paris over all three networks,” Hank explained, “and PBS.”

“All three?” Logan questioned, a hint of sarcasm in this tone. “Wow.”

“Yeah, and PBS.” Hank pushed the needed buttons and a reporter appeared on one of the screens. “Look what I found."

“Tomorrow, in front of the White House,” the reporter began, “the President will make his announcement. He will be joined by Secretary of Defense Laird and has even sought the help of renowned scientist Bolivar Trask, his special advisor, to combat this mutant issue.”

“Raven doesn't realize that if she kills Trask at an event like that…” Charles was thinking out loud, “with the whole world watching—“

Logan looked at you as he spoke up, "Then I came a long way for nothing." The despair that glazed over his eyes caused you to reach over and take his hand. He quickly held your hand tightly.

“And there’s more bad news,” Hank added. "I saw in a report... they found traces of her blood in Paris. For all we know, they already have her DNA, which is all they'd need.”

“To create the Sentinels of the future.”

“There's a theory in quantum physics, that time is immutable. It’s like a river. You can throw a pebble into it and create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do, the river just keeps flowing in the same direction.”

“What are you trying to say?” Logan’s hand gripped yours tighter, forcing you to bite back a wince.

“What I'm saying is... What if the war is inevitable? What if she's meant to kill Trask? What if this is just simply who she is?"

"Just because someone stumbles, loses their way, doesn't mean they're lost forever,” Charles said softly, sharing a look with Logan. “No, I don't believe that theory, Hank. And I cannot believe that is who she is. Ready the plane. We're going to Washington.”

~~~

“You... you should stay here," Logan said as the two of you stood in the entryway.

“What?" You questioned. “No! You may need my help. I know that I've been practically useless, but—"

“You’re never useless, sweetheart. I just… I can't... I can’t risk losing you.” His head hung. “Not again.”

“James.” You gently took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Did the me you lost let you go into fights alone?”

“No."

“Then I won't either.”

Your thumbs rubbed against his hair-covered cheeks. Logan sighed, closing his eyes and allowing himself to commit this moment to memory. With each passing second, Logan was beginning to believe that there was no going back to you. Your past was already changing just in this moment. Logan placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer. When he opened his eyes, you immediately noticed that they shone with tears. The man who you believed was all big and tough was trying so hard not to cry.

“I need you to do something for me," Logan’s voice was on the cusp of breaking. "Actually, two things. The first thing I need is for you to promise me to run. If it gets too dangerous, I need you to run.”

“James—"

“No, honey, I need you to promise me this. No arguments.”

You took a deep breath, nodding as your hands slid down his neck to wrap around it. “Okay…. I promise."

“And… the second thing is… I need you to kiss me,” a tear slipped down his cheek. “I know that we shouldn't, but, sweetheart, I... I'm terrified… I don’t know if I'll ever see you again and I need... I just need you to kiss me one more time… please."

You didn't bother responding verbally. Instead, you pulled his head closer until your lips met. At first, the kiss was slow and hesitant. You were trying to wrap your head around who you were kissing while Logan was trying to savor every second. But then, the kiss grew more heated and needier. Logan's hands moved to your back, pulling you closer so that you were completely flushed against him. When the two of you finally broke the kiss, your foreheads moved to lean against each other.

“Thank you,” Logan breathed out.

“We should go," your voice was a lot shakier than you wished.

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s go."

~~~

When you arrived on the plane, you decided to sit with Hank up in the cockpit. Though you did make sure to check if Logan would be alright first. Logan and Charles sat in the back. Logan watched as Charles rubbed his leg like it was uncomfortable.

“You all right?” Wondered Logan.

“Getting there,” Charles responded.

Logan sighed. "Whatever happens today, I have a few things you need to promise me. You've looked into my mind and seen a lot of bad, but you've seen the good, too. The X-Men. Promise me you'll find us.” Logan leaned forward. “Use your power, bring us together. Guide us. Lead us. Storm. Scott. Jean… Y/N. Remember those names. There are so many of us. We will need you, Professor.”

“I'll do my best.”

“Your best is enough. Trust me.”

Charles took Logan's words to heart before asking his question, "What's the other thing?”

Logan looked up at the cockpit door. He could see you talking with Hank. “I need you to protect her. If I’m not able to get her away as soon as 1973 me returns, I need you to take care of her.”

“I can do that… Y/N is truly something special.”

Logan smiled softly. "You have no idea.”

"She's lucky to have someone like you loving her."

“I’m the lucky one."

~~~

Hank pushed Charles through the metal detectors at the security checkpoint on the White House grounds. You waited behind them, with Logan behind you.

“Can I see your invitations, please?” One of the guards requested.

Charles placed his fingers to his head as he responded. “Yes, you may. These three are with me."

“Go ahead."

“Thank you.”

You stepped through the metal detector before turning around and waiting for Logan. You could tell that he was tense, probably because of the whole situation. But when he stepped through, he looked back at the detector is surprise when it didn’t go off.

“Everything okay?" you asked.

“Yeah,” Logan muttered.

“Logan! Y/N!” Charles urged.

“Come on,” Logan took your hand and tugged you along.

The four of you found a spot near the back, with a line of wheelchair ridden soldiers. Each of you were on high alert, searching the area for any sign of Raven, as the event started.

“The President of the United States,” the announcement caused the crowd to cheer.

President Nixon stood at the podium. “My fellow Americans, today we face the gravest threat in our history... mutants. We have prepared for this threat. In the immortal words of Robert Oppenheimer, ‘Behold. The world will never be the same again.’”

Nixon raised his arm and turned around. The large backdrop fell, revealing eight Sentinels. Logan’s hand squeezed yours, like he was trying to remind himself that you were right there. The crowd cheered, and soldiers saluted.

“Raven?” Charles suddenly said out loud. “I have her.” He pointed to the front corner. "There. You see? Secret Service man. Left of the stage."

"Got it," Logan said, letting go of your hand.

“Go.”

Logan looked at you. “Stay with Charles.”

The look in his eyes was giving you no room to argue. “Okay,” you nodded. Then he and Hank were off.

The sound of the Sentinels coming to life at your stomach dropping. They flew up and hovered above the crowd. You watched as they each extended their arms and suddenly began firing. The crowd began screaming and running. The chaos broke Charles' concentration and his grip on Raven. He knew who was doing this.

“ERIK!” Charles screamed as the Sentinels kept shooting, and the crowd ran frantically.

You lifted your hands up and shot flames at two of the Sentinels.

“Y/N!” Logan’s voice roared over the screams.

The Sentinels flew out of your flames, barely affected, as they headed towards what seemed to be a baseball stadium floating in the sky. As it came closer, you saw Erik in the center of it. Pieces of the stadium fell from the sky.

“Charles! Y/N!”

You shoved Charles' chair, throwing him to the side and out of it, as metal crashed down on you, pinning you to the ground. Charles was pinned seconds later. You gasped as the metal impaled you.

“NO!!!” Logan's heart-wrenching screams tore across the sound of crashing metal.

Logan and Hank began running over to where you and Charles were stuck, dodging large pieces of the stadium. Logan’s mind was spiraling. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to stay safe. He could feel the tug back to 2023 as he panicked and the need to reach you grew, but he would fight it until he couldn't anymore. The ground shook as the stadium finally hit the ground, surrounding the White House. Erik landed with the Sentinels surrounding him, ready to shoot.

“Y/N,” Charles called, feeling your mind in pain. “You're going to be okay.”

“I… I know…" There was blood slipping out of your mouth. Your healing factor wasn't fast enough to stop the damage being done to you.

Logan and Hank, now in his Beast form, tried to fight their way through a Sentinel to get to Erik, Charles, and you. Logan had never been so grateful that he didn't have adamantium in his bones. He was almost to Erik when Erik threw a large cement block with thick metal poles sticking out of it at him. Logan fell forward with a grunt of pain. Erik used his powers to cause the metal poles to impale Logan.

“J—James,” you rasped, struggling to breathe.

Erik lifted Logan up, holding him in the air. “So much for being a survivor,” he stated.

Then he threw Logan up and over the stadium. Logan yelled as he was thrown into the river. The metal and cement sunk him to the bottom. He tried to free himself, his only thought being you. But the metal was too much, and Logan drowned.

“James,” you cried, eyes growing blurry as you began to quickly grow weaker. “No…”

"Stay with me, Y/N,” Charles urged. "You'll be okay."

You couldn’t control it when the darkness took over, and your breathing stopped.

next chapter >

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