#mccoy fanfic

[swan-of-sunrise]

...Is Love, Sweet Love (Part II)

Summary: Eight months later, (Y/N) and her daughter Molly have settled in well at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, with (Y/N) teaching a Classical Literature class and six-year-old Molly taking courses while learning more about her telepathic skills. Charles, having fallen head over heels for the school's new professor, debates whether or not to act upon his feelings.

Pairing: Charles Xavier X F!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Yes, I know, it's slightly unhinged to write a Part II to a one-shot that I published over 2 years ago, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and here's what I came up with! Again, "What The World Needs Now Is Love" by Jackie DeShannon partially inspired this fic, so you should totally give it a listen if you haven't heard it before :)

…Is Love, Sweet Love May 1980 Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Westchester (Previous Chapter)

Despite living in his family’s mansion for the majority of his life and spending countless hours of his childhood eagerly exploring its sprawling grounds, Charles Xavier hadn’t truly grown to appreciate the tranquility that the estate provided until he’d re-started Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. The sight of young mutants happily playing on the playground and partaking in group sports without feeling the need to hide their differences away brought a smile to Charles’ face, and the cheerful laughter of his students paired with the beautiful spring sunshine inspired him to once again enjoy his lunch outside with a good book…although, it was difficult to deny that he spent far more time listening in on Professor (Y/L/N)’s nearby Classical Literature class than actually reading his novel.

“Can anyone tell me why the characters of King Lear worship the pagan gods and not any form of Christianity?” (Y/N), who was sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of her small class, arched a brow as she surveyed the silent group of teenagers before her. “C’mon, guys, you know this. We went over the background of the play during our last lecture, and I seem to remember some of you even taking notes…” After a moment, a timid hand went up from the red-headed girl in the front and (Y/N) smiled. “Yes, Jean?”

“The play is set in ancient Britain, long before the arrival of Christianity.”

“Very good, Jean!” Jean Grey’s shoulders relaxed and beside her, her friend Jubilee gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Now, why would Shakespeare choose to set this play in this specific time period? Think about the time period in which Shakespeare lived, and what the social and political climate in England was like.” A dark-haired boy towards the back of their group raised his hand. “Go ahead, Remy.”

Remy LeBeau lowered his hand and began fiddling with his deck of playing cards as he spoke in his distinct French-Creole accent. “Well, Professor, that was when there was a lil’ trouble brewin’ ‘tween the Catholics and Protestants over there, right? He prob’ly didn’t wanna ruffle any feathers by puttin’ a popular religion in his plays, so he had his characters worship the gods from ol’ Roman mythology; anybody who’d be offended would’ve been long dead, so Willy did what any guy’d do to keep his head on his shoulders.”

Charles smiled to himself as the class laughed and (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a reluctant grin. “A little unorthodoxly put, Remy, but you’re absolutely correct. In the play, Lear states that-” She was cut off when the familiar sound of the school bell rang out and her students started to pack their things away. “Remember, on Monday we’ll begin performing your assigned scenes so be sure to work on memorizing your lines with your groups over the weekend. Have a good rest of your day!”

While they laughed and talked amongst themselves, the students headed back towards the mansion for their next class and with a fond smile on her face, (Y/N) looked away from them and finished packing her binders and books into her messenger bag. The novel in Charles’ hand was all but forgotten in favor of admiring his colleague and friend, who’s effortless beauty almost always succeeded in making him stutter over his words and caused him to blush in a way that he hadn’t since he was a schoolboy; she was dressed casually in a striped button-down blouse tucked into a faded pair of high-waisted jeans and well-worn Birkenstocks, with her (Y/H/C) hair pulled away from her face by a blue headband and her reading glasses dangling around her neck by a colorful beaded chain. Charles took in all of her striking figure, but it was her content smile and the happy gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes that made him release a lovelorn sigh and look down at his lap.

Charles was infatuated with Professor (Y/L/N). Well, it perhaps started out as a simple infatuation, back when she’d first arrived on his doorstep pleading for him to help her daughter; her kindness and caring nature in regards to Molly’s safety and well-being was touching, considering how many parents he’d met who were overly eager to pass their mutant children off to a complete stranger just to be rid of them. After hearing their story, he knew that she couldn’t bear to be separated from her five-year-old and so, he asked that she stay and teach at the school to ensure that they would remain together. That was eight months ago and since then, the infatuation had evolved into a full-blown romantic crush; Charles was captivated by (Y/N)’s capacity for compassion, enchanted by her quick wit and natural beauty, in awe of her progressive idealism in regards to mutant rights and more than appreciative of her boundless consideration in regards to his disability.

Yes, Charles was enamored by his school’s newest professor, but he was also plagued by insecurity. The last woman he was romantically involved with was Agent Moira MacTaggert of the CIA, all the way back in 1962 when he was a dashing young man who’d just earned his doctorate and possessed an egotistical streak wider than the English Channel; nowadays, his ego was tempered and his youthful good looks were beginning to give way to wrinkles and streaks of silver. While a ten-year age gap between two consenting adults was hardly an insurmountable obstacle to a happy relationship, a part of him couldn’t help but think that (Y/N) would be happier with someone younger than him. Both Alex and Hank thought that he was overthinking the situation, and perhaps they were right but whenever he started to consider asking her out, that little voice of doubt whispered on in the back of his mind.

“Hi Charles!”

Looking up, Charles’ face reflexively broke out into a grin when he saw (Y/N) approaching the bench he’d parked his wheelchair beside. “Hello, (Y/N)! Holding your classes outside today, I see?”

“It’s such a beautiful day, so you could hardly blame me for taking full advantage of it.” The professor adjusted the strap of her messenger bag and tilted her head as a teasing smile played across her cherry-red lips. “Enjoying your lunch outside today, I see?”

“Touché, Professor,” Charles chuckled, slipping his bookmark into his novel to mark his place and tucking it into his wheelchair’s saddle pack. “Hank seems to believe that my vitamin D levels are too low, so I decided that eating outside was the quickest way to get our resident worrywart off of my back. Not only did I soak up plenty of sun, I had the added pleasure of listening in on your fantastic lesson on Shakespeare’s King Lear; no offense to the Bard, but it’s refreshing to see an Classical Literature professor teach her students about one of his historical plays instead of one of his romances.”

(Y/N) shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she began to fiddle with her pendant revealed the bashfulness she was attempting to mask. “Well, I remember what it was like being fourteen; you’re around the same age as Romeo and Juliet, yes, but you don’t know a damn thing about love and it’s not easy to understand why they do the things they do.”

“As a former fourteen-year-old, I heartily concur. At that age, I could scarcely understand myself let alone an emotion as complex as love, no matter how beautifully Shakespeare described it,” Charles replied, looking out across the manicured grounds as he recited, “‘My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep-’”

“‘-The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite,’” (Y/N) finished and when their eyes met, Charles’ heart fluttered and he could feel his face beginning to warm; his brows rose in surprise when the professor hastily turned her head to try and hide her besotted smile, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the sight. “I, um, I-I should go and find Molly…”

“She’s at the playground with Alex’s second graders. Speaking of which, I need to speak with Alex about tomorrow’s scheduled book delivery…” Charles awkwardly cleared his throat before giving (Y/N) a tentative smile. “Would you allow me to escort you there?”

(Y/N)’s own smile widened at that. “Of course!”

While Charles wheeled himself along the stone pathway and (Y/N) kept in step with him, they eagerly discussed the school’s ongoing library expansion and all the new books they’d obtained for the students; any progress made at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but expanding his ancestral home’s library was one of his greatest desires and he was thrilled that the children would soon have access to more knowledge than many of the country’s best private schools and universities. (Y/N) was just as excited about the expansion as he was, and he couldn’t help but admire the enthusiasm written across her beautiful features while he listened to her talk about all the lesson plans she’d brainstormed involving their new books.

They reached the playground sooner than Charles would’ve preferred, but his disappointment was set aside by the sight and sound of his school’s youngest students happily entertaining themselves on the elaborate structure; so many of them came from broken homes and were sent away without any second thoughts by families that couldn’t care less about them and while Charles couldn’t change their heartbreaking pasts, he did all in his power to give each and every one of his students a loving home and bright, promising futures. For the first time, I find myself truly understanding the blinding rage that fills Erik in regards to mutant rights, he thought with an inward grimace before glancing over at (Y/N) and smiling as the human woman affectionately watched her mutant daughter play, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve lost my faith in humanity’s innate goodness.

“Hi Mommy!” Molly exclaimed from the top of the structure, a toothy grin stretching across her face as she gave them both an enthusiastic wave. “Hi Professor ‘Zavier!”

“Hi Molly-Bear!” (Y/N) called back while a beaming Charles returned the little girl’s wave with one of his own. He’d always maintained that a good professor shouldn’t have favorites, but no one would blame him if he came out and admitted that Molly (Y/L/N) was – hands down – his favorite student; she was as exuberant and carefree as any human six year old, but her mutant abilities as a psychometric telepath meant that she was more insightful and tended to see the world around her with sage eyes. In truth, Molly reminded him so much of himself when he was a child and knowing first-hand how challenging having telepathic abilities at that age can be, he was grateful that he could help her by teaching her how to control and accept her gifts.

While Charles scanned the playground for Alex, he caught (Y/N) looking over at him and the tender expression on her face nearly took his breath away; she quickly looked away and pretended to adjust the fasteners of her messenger bag, but not before Charles noticed the glimmer of affection in her gorgeous (Y/E/C) eyes. A familiar whistle cut through his racing thoughts and when he glanced over, he spotted Alex leaning against a light pole that bordered the playground; a knowing smirk curved across the younger man’s face, widening as he brought a hand up to his temple and wiggled his fingers to signal for Charles to read his mind.

“I told you so.”

“Alex…”

“(Y/N)’s into you, Charles, and you’re clearly into her. So, what’re you gonna do about it?”

After taking a steadying breath and running an anxious hand through his hair, Charles cleared his suddenly dry throat and hesitantly spoke. “(Y/N)?” The professor looked over at him expectantly and his finger drifted upwards to loosen his shirt’s collar while he clumsily continued. “I, ah…well, I-I was wondering if I…(Y/N), would you and Molly care to join me for dinner sometime? There’s a wonderful Italian restaurant in Salem Center and a little movie theater just down the street from it that I think you’ll enjoy…”

(Y/N) blinked, looking dumbfounded but slightly hopeful as she took a moment to find her voice. “Charles, are you asking me out on a date?”

Charles nodded and offered her the barest of smiles. “Over the past few months, I’ve grown…immensely fond of you; I wake up every morning looking forward to our usual discussions over breakfast, I find myself spending far too much time styling my hair and picking out what to wear in the hopes that you’ll take note and every time you smile at me, my heart skips a beat.” The professor shyly smiled at that and he couldn’t help but lightly chuckle, the weight in his chest already feeling lighter with each confession he uttered. “Yes, just like that.”

“And you…you wouldn’t mind Molly coming along?”

The anxiety that filled (Y/N)’s eyes as she awaited his answer nearly shattered Charles’ heart; based on what little she’d disclosed to him about her past, he knew that she’s struggled with dating as a single mother and he could only imagine how disillusioned with romance she’d become as a result. “Of course not, (Y/N),” He softly replied and in a bold move, he reached forward and took her hand in his. “You two are a team, after all; Molly is your entire world, and I want you to know that I respect that more than anything. It’s also…well, let’s just say that it’s been quite a while since I’ve gone on a date, and I’d…”

“Like to go slow?” (Y/N) gently offered and when Charles wordlessly nodded, she gave him the smallest of smiles before looking over her shoulder and calling out, “Molly? Sweetheart, can you come here for a second, please?” After coming down the slide, Molly skipped over to them and the professor knelt down so that they were eye-level, her hand still holding onto his. “Professor Xavier wanted to know if he could take us out for dinner and a movie. Does that sound all right to you, Molly-Bear?”

The little girl’s head tilted to the side as her (Y/E/C) eyes studied Charles, and he was forced to mask his amused chuckle with a cough when she brought a mitten-clad hand up to her mother’s ear. “Like on a date?” Molly loudly whispered, and (Y/N) pursed her lips to keep from chuckling as she nodded; her daughter lowered her hand to reveal her excited smile and she gave her mother an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Sounds good to me!” Molly looked back at Charles with a conspiratorial giggle. “Mommy likes you, Professor ‘Zavier.”

Charles arched a playful brow as his eyes flicked between the embarrassed elder (Y/L/N) and the beaming younger (Y/L/N). “She does, does she?”

“Mm-hmm, she likes your eyes and your smile and your hair and your-”

“Okay, young lady, that’s enough out of you,” (Y/N) hastily interrupted, tickling her daughter’s neck with both hands and smiling when she shrieked with laughter and scurried back to the playground. Shaking her head in fond exasperation, she stood and glanced back at Charles, who was trying and failing to muffle his laughter. “Well, I guess that settles it. Does six o’clock this Friday work for you?”

He emphatically nodded. “Yes, of course, it’s perfect!” He felt himself begin to blush at his obvious enthusiasm, and it was (Y/N)’s turn to chuckle as he awkwardly cleared his throat and tried again. “…I-I mean, Friday at six o’clock works for me.”

“Good. I guess that Molly and I will see you then.” The professor turned to walk away but took Charles by surprise when she turned back around and bashfully smiled at him. “I’ve…I’ve grown immensely fond of you too, Charles.”

Before he could say or do anything, she’d bent down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto his cheek, an infatuated gleam in her (Y/E/C) eyes as she flashed him one last smile and left to meet her daughter on the playground. A broad grin slowly spread across Charles’ face and while he watched her walk away, he leaned an elbow onto his wheelchair’s armrest and rested the side of his head against his palm, releasing a love-struck sigh and barely taking note of the familiar figure that moved to stand beside him.

“See what happens when you actually take my advice?”

Charles straightened his posture and glanced over at Alex, who was wearing the smuggest of smiles on his faces as he stared back at him. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an impertinent ass, Alex Summers?”

Alex’s smirk widened. “Heard it all my life. So, when’s the big date?”

“This Friday at six o’clock. And since you and Hank have taken such a keen interest in my love life, I’ll be requiring your assistance on Friday.” The younger man quickly sobered and with a grin of his own, Charles chuckled and patted his arm. “There’s a good chap. Now, about tomorrow’s book delivery…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Although it was a far cry from the hazy evenings spent at Oxford’s many lively pubs and in the company of the college’s most flirtatious female students, Charles’ date with (Y/N) and Molly was undoubtedly the most enjoyable one he’d ever been on. He’d met the mother and daughter in the mansion’s foyer with two bouquets in his hands – daisies for Molly and vibrant pink roses for (Y/N) – and he happily watched them admire their flowers while simultaneously hiding the fact that he was studying (Y/N)’s figure; the professor was wearing a knee-length yellow dress with long billowing sleeves, a bright pink sash tied around her waist and matching high heels, and her carefully styled hair was pulled back by a pink headband. She was beautiful, far too beautiful to be going out with the likes of him, but his fears of inadequacy were quickly alleviated when she looked over at him and smiled.

Hank and Alex drove the three of them to Salem Center in Charles’ maroon 1959 Jaguar Mark IX, the pair of them opting to stay in town and catch a showing of the newly-released The Empire Strikes Back while they dined at La Mensa. Sensing Molly’s apprehension with being around so many non-mutant strangers, Charles distracted her by playing ‘tic-tac-toe’ and ‘hangman’ with her on her paper place-mat and (Y/N) threw him a grateful look as she asked her daughter about her schoolwork; while they enjoyed their food, (Y/N) entertained them with stories of her students’ antics and after some goading by Molly, she even balanced a spoon on the end of her nose much to her daughter and Charles’ delight. After dinner, they made their way down the street to the small movie theater and while many of its patrons were queued up to watch the latest Star Wars film, the three of them decided on watching the re-release of Disney’s Lady and the Tramp; Molly adored the classic cartoon and while Charles was impartial to the film, he thoroughly enjoyed exchanging enamored glances with (Y/N) over the little girl’s head.

Molly fell asleep on the drive home, cuddling against her mother’s side as she lovingly brushed her fingers through her daughter’s (Y/H/C) hair. In low whispers, (Y/N) assured Charles that Molly had a wonderful time and that she hadn’t seen the little girl so happy since before she’d come into her mutation; although aware that Hank and Alex were clearly eavesdropping from their front seats, Charles quietly asked her if she’d care for a quick nightcap in his study after putting Molly to bed, and he was thrilled when she readily accepted his invitation. When they arrived back at the mansion, (Y/N) carried the still-sleeping Molly inside, but not before giving Charles one last smile as he maneuvered into his outside wheelchair.

“So…” Hank arched a curious brow as he walked beside Charles’ wheelchair and steadied it when they reached the top of the ramp, where Alex was waiting with his motorized indoor wheelchair. “How was it?”

“Charming, but I could’ve done without the rather offensive Asian and Italian stereotypes-”

“Not the movie, Charles, the date,” Alex interrupted and when Charles chuckled in amusement at his friends, he leaned a shoulder against the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, you finally ask out the woman you’ve been head over heels for and you’re not gonna give your two best friends the four-one-one?”

Shaking his head in faux exasperation, Charles shifted himself into his motorized wheelchair and arranged his legs as he airily answered, “(Y/N), Molly and I ate a truly magnificent meal at La Mensa that we followed up by watching a classic Disney film at the movie theater. What more is there to say?”

Alex heaved a sigh but moved to allow Charles to wheel himself into the mansion. “A little help here, Hank?”

“Oh, he’s having far too much fun messing with us to stop.” The scientist tucked his hands into his jacket pockets while a mischievous smirk played on his lips. “But speaking as the school’s resident genius, I couldn’t help but notice the good professor clearly checking (Y/N) out before we left and blushing when she smiled at him just now.”

A reluctant blush warmed Charles’ cheeks at that. “Don’t you two perverts have morning classes to prepare for?”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday, lover boy,” Alex smugly countered, nudging Hank’s arm with his elbow as they walked beside Charles’ wheelchair down the vacant hall to his study. “Well, Beast, there’s no doubt about it: Charles here’s got it bad for our lovely Professor (Y/L/N).”

When they reached his study’s door, Charles nudged it open and wheeled himself inside, but not before giving both men a look of genuine sincerity. “Thank you, for your assistance tonight and for your encouragement; the pair of you can occasionally be a pain in the ass, but tonight couldn’t have happened without you.”

Hank’s smile softened. “You’re welcome, Charles. We’re just happy that we succeeded in making you do something selfish for once.”

“Yeah, you’ve helped us both out so much over the years and it was high-time we returned the favor,” Alex added as he clapped Charles on the shoulder, his earnest expression morphing into a knowing smirk while he continued. “Enjoy your nightcap with (Y/N), and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, lover boy.”

“Oh, and don’t forget protection!”

“Goodnight, gentlemen.”

Chuckling, Alex and Hank left the study and closed the door behind them; after pausing for a moment to take a calming breath, Charles wheeled himself over to the oak cabinet near his cluttered desk and unlocked it, pulling out a glass decanter of scotch and two glasses and setting them down on the coffee table. He bit his lip as his eyes surveyed the messy state of his study, cursing himself for not tidying up earlier, but a part of him knew that (Y/N) wasn’t the type to mind a little clutter; she liked to joke that the best professors had the messiest studies because they spent all their time teaching instead of worrying about how others perceive them. It was the good manners instilled in him from birth that saw him gathering stacks of loose papers, binders and leather-bound books and unceremoniously shoving them behind his desk before lifting himself out of his wheelchair to sit on the couch; with nothing else to distract himself from the anxious anticipation building up within him, Charles plucked the maple-colored queen off the chessboard and nimbly twirled it around his fingers as he waited for (Y/N).

Minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door of his study and after scrambling to straighten up his chessboard, Charles called out, “Come in!” The door opened and (Y/N) stepped into the room, her gentle smile widening when she spotted him seated on the couch. “How’s Molly?”

“Out like a light.” (Y/N) crossed the room and sat on the couch beside him, her fingers playing with the flowing yellow material of her dress’ skirt as Charles poured their drinks. “She wanted me to tell you that she had a really fun time tonight, and she wanted me to thank you.”

“She’s been working so hard these past few months to complete her schoolwork and training, so if anyone deserves to have a little fun it’s undoubtedly her,” Charles replied, a surge of fondness for his youngest student and her kindheartedness bringing a smile to her face as he turned to (Y/N) and offered her a glass of the amber-colored liquid. “As do you, Professor.”

Accepting the glass, (Y/N) hummed thoughtfully before holding it up and angling it towards him. “In that case…to having fun.”

“To having fun,” Charles repeated, lightly clinking his glass of scotch against hers and taking a sip, his eyes appreciatively roaming along the professor’s figure while she took a sip of the strong liquor. “Do you like it? It’s top shelf scotch whiskey, all the way from Scotland.”

(Y/N) arched a playful brow as she crossed her leg over her knee and angled herself to face him. “Expensive, imported liquor? Are you trying to impress me, Professor?”

“Well, that all depends…” Following his instincts, Charles set his glass down and rested his elbow on the couch’s back cushion, his lips curving into a playful grin. “Is it working?”

Her (Y/E/C) eyes softened and after setting her own glass down, she rested one of her hands on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Charles, I was impressed by you before the top shelf scotch, before the fancy Italian restaurant, and before I ever laid eyes on this beautiful mansion.” His brow furrowed in confusion but she merely smiled and rubbed small circles along his knuckles with her thumb. “Eight months ago, the letter that I sent you asking for help with Molly was my Hail Mary; I had nowhere to go and no way to protect my daughter from the people who hated her for who she was, so I decided to write to the one person I knew could help her. And when you sent me a letter back – that incredibly kind and empathetic letter – you gave me hope, hope that I hadn’t felt in so long. So, you see? You managed to impress me before we’d even met, Charles Xavier.”

Charles, touched by her sincerity and feeling a little emotional, reached forward with his free hand and carefully cradled her warm cheek in his palm. “Oh, my darling (Y/N)…you’re not the only one who’s had their hope restored; I gave up any hope for romance not long after I lost my legs, choosing to focus my attention on the school and my fellow mutants. Over these past several months, however, you helped me to see that there was still hope.” His thumb traced along her cheekbone as he smiled and slowly began to lean in. “And now, I would very much like to kiss you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N)’s smile widened. “I’d like that very much as well, I just…” He could feel her cheek flush beneath his touch, and a look of embarrassment flashed across her face. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve done anything like this. Would it be silly to say that I’ve got butterflies in my stomach?”

“Not at all, darling. Truth be told, I’m a little nervous myself,” Charles murmured, his eyes flicking away from hers to stare at her enticing lips before glancing back up. “The last time I kissed a woman was in 1962, so you’ll have to forgive me if my technique has gotten slightly rusty over the past eighteen years.”

“Well, we won’t know unless we give it a go, will we?” (Y/N) breathed and her (Y/E/C) eyes burned with desire as they both inched closer. “Charles, dear…please kiss me.”

Wanting nothing more than to please the professor, Charles’ eyes fluttered closed as he tentatively brushed his lips against hers. (Y/N) wasted no time in returning the kiss, kissing him softly and sweetly as her hand left his to rest on the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair and eliciting a blissful groan from him; with one hand still cupping her cheek, he rested the other on her waist but soon found himself winding his arm around her in an effort to bring her closer. (Y/N)’s lips were soft and oh so addictive, slowly but firmly caressing against his as her fingers carded through his locks, and Charles surrendered himself over to the woman wrapped in his embrace.

Eventually, they were forced to separate for some much-needed air, the both of them out of breath and almost dizzy from their impromptu make-out session; Charles felt a surge of pride as he took in (Y/N)’s kiss-swollen lips, heaving chest and the dazed smile on her face, and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to lightly rub his nose against hers. When he pulled back, he huffed out a breathless chuckle at the incredulous look that she was giving him. “That’s a rusty technique?”

“Mm-hmm. Dreadful, wasn’t it?”

(Y/N) giggled at his joking question and pretended to consider it. “You know, I think I need another example before I can definitively say.” They both laughed but when Charles moved in for another kiss, a sharp twinge in his lower back caused him to recoil with a hiss of pain. “Charles, are you okay?!”

He mutely nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he straightened his posture and leaned his back against the plush couch cushions. “I’m fine, it’s just a muscle spasm.”

“Is it…?” (Y/N) trailed off and when Charles finally opened his eyes as the pain began to fade, he could see the worry written across her face. “Is it because of your spinal cord injury?”

“That, and I’m afraid that I’m getting on in years; I’m not as young and spritely as I was in 1962.” Instead of stammering out a string of apologies and getting up to leave as Charles feared she would, the corner of (Y/N)’s lips curved upwards into a lopsided grin that left him slightly confused. “(Y/N)?”

The professor shifted closer to him. “Did you know that Molly’s father was fourteen years older than me?” Charles’ brow rose in surprise and he silently shook his head, watching as she reached over and brushed a lock of hair behind his ear. “You could say that I’ve always had a thing for older men…” Before he could think of something witty to say, (Y/N) swung her leg over his to straddle his lap and rested her hands on either side of his face; Charles couldn’t help but grin and, inspired by her delectable boldness, he placed his hands on her waist to hold her securely to him, his grin widening as her breath hitched. “Go ahead and read my mind if you don’t believe me, but it’s true.”

Shaking his head, Charles rested his head on the back of the couch so that he was staring up at her, softly smiling as one of his hands traveled upwards to cradle her cheek. “I believe you, darling. Would it be too sappy to say that I don’t want this night to end?”

“Not at all, dear,” (Y/N) shook her head before closing the distance between them and captured his lips in another passionate kiss; when they finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against his and returned his blissful smile with one of her own. “We can make this work, can’t we? Balance the two of us with running the school and raising Molly?”

“I believe that you and I can do just about anything, so long as we’re together,” Charles replied, his thumb and forefinger moving to guide her chin forward and pouring all his emotions into another kiss; there was no place on Earth he’d rather be than in the arms of the lovely Classical Literature professor who’d captured his heart and judging by the way she kissed him back, it was clear that she was thinking something along the same lines.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I had so much fun dipping my toes back into the Fox X-Men Universe (I still have a massive thing for 80's Charles Xavier and his flowing brown hair lol) and I loved that I finally resolved Charles and (Y/N)'s mutual attraction with this cute Part II! I may or may not have a few ideas for a possible Part III, so let me know if you'd be interested in reading more! Thank you all so much for reading and enjoying!

Story Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl @holb32 @f1uveryysblog Marvel Tag List: @brooke0297​​​​ @deadlymistletoe Permanent Tag List:​ @momc95​​​​ @crowleysqueenofhell​​​ @groovy-lady​ @yasmin12312

[mariaxman]

Hello!

Might I request a romantic fluff fanfic for Hank McCoy and a Gender Neutral reader? Maybe just some morning cuddles?

BEAST X READER

Resume: your husband tries to sneak away on his day off. How dare he!

A/N: I Kinda lost track, there’s still cuddle but it’s not only that😭

The soft glow of the early morning sun creep trough the blinds, hitting the back of your head. You were woken up by Hank sloooowly trying to slide out of bed. You hum lowly and curl in on yourself, wrapping an arm over your husband, clinging onto Hank like your life depended on it. It wasn’t even 7 AM yet and he was trying to get out of bed!

‘’Mh.. hon, stay here..’’

You mumble groggily, wrapping your legs around his furry waist

‘’I need to get to work, my dear’’

He whispers in your ear with a peck to the cheek.

‘’Can’t you stay just a while longer? It’s not even 7 yet..’’

You hum against his neck. Hank sighs, wrapping his arms around you in a loving embrace, while you cling to him like a koala.

‘’I guess I can, can’t I?’’

You smile and finally open your tired eyes, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him

‘’Why were you even trying to get up so early anyways? It’s Sunday. You don’t work on Sunday’’

Beast swipes a thumb across your cheek to push away a stray lock of hair.

‘’It is a force of habit I suppose, my love’’ you chuckle and hold his hand, intertwining your fingers together

‘’Well, you’ll need to break it someday’’ he hums and rest his chin atop your head when you nuzzle yours to his chest. You eyes flutter closed with a content sigh

‘’Go to sleep, hon..’’

Your husband mutters in your hair

‘’I will if you promise you won’t sneak away to your lab if I do’’

The man let’s put a chuckle and cuddles you closer.

‘’I promise’’

<33

[egotisticaleverything]

Pervy Young Hank HCs

[NSFW]

WARNINGS: Dubcon-ish elements, Hank being a nervous pervert, pantie stealing, pantie sniffing, Polaroids of you/reader used in… less than SFW ways, non-consensual up skirt photos, degrading kink, unedited, tell me if I left anything out!!

A/N: I know this may be OOC but I see nerdy boy and I think “hmmm what if I made him a pervy little FREAK” then I giggle kick my feet and give the internet my deranged thoughts. Enjoy.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Hank has always been nervous, around you especially. The minute you entered the mansion and he layed eyes on you his heart skipped a beat. Something about you was so alluring, but my lord this man was awkward about it. He was practically running away from you out of embarrassment.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t like you, oh no. Quite the contrary, he liked you a lot. Every week on laundry days you’d notice at least one pair of your underwear missing, you swore you had counted and made sure they were all there but they just seemed to disappear. Disappear into a locked drawer in Hank’s room, stashed right beside a photo of you from the staff pool party the year prior. And a photo from last years Halloween party, and Christmas, and- is that a Polaroid up your skirt? Dirty fucking pervert got off to anything to do with you, he’d probably jerk it to your x-rays if he had nothing else.

In his little stash he’s at least smart enough to not take your favourite pair of panties, no he’d never do that to you. But any other ones are fair game. He’d get off looking at your photos, your underwear practically glued to his face with how much he’s pressing it against himself, whimpering and whining like a little bitch. Every time a pair of your underwear starts looking your sent he slyly slips it back into the pile during laundry day, swapping it for another as the cycle continues.

“Oh fuck-“ Hank whined, your most recently worn pair of panties hugged his face as he shoved them into his nose, consuming your leftover sent as he stroked himself, his cock practically throbbing as it leaks beads of pre-cum. Through foggy glasses he eyes the photos of you layed upon his desk, he couldn’t help himself, more could he tell you. He was too far gone in this act, he couldn’t risk it too much. But god how he loved the concept of him getting caught, you storming into his office and witnessing a scene like this, seeing not only his face buried in your panties but all those Polaroids, swimsuit pictures, Halloween costumes, up skirt shots on the stairs. You’d probably call him a filthy pervert and slap in him the face, throw all sorts of names at him. Oh like hell he’d let you, he’d pay to have you do it. The concept of you even touching him is enough to drive him over the edge. These thoughts slowly consumed him as his strokes became even more frantic, approaching his climax as a string of incoherent moans mixed with nothing more than curses and your name rolling off his tongue. Soon enough he came, spilling himself all over his desk, as your stolen panties fell from their place on his nose it landed right in the puddle. Shit.

[anindoorchild]

Bones making his love for Jim SUPER OBVIOUS by choosing to stay in space with him is one of my favorite micro tropes

[spirk-trek]

For the fic prompt thing: how about Spock coming out as gay/bi/ace to a pining Jim (who thinks that Spock is straight)?

Merry writing!!!🖖

hello my darling anon! thank you for the request :) this one is very short and sweet. i like to think spock assumes everyone already knows, so he doesn't expect it to matter. i hope you enjoy!

quick side note to the anon who requested genius!jim... i started writing it, hated it, started again, then watched a documentary that made me change the entire plot but it's turning into one of my favorite little creations ever. thank you (and all the others too) for your patience <3

without further ado, let's get spock out of the closet!

(or read here on ao3 if you prefer)

~*~*~*~*~

"Please, Jim. Spock n’ I here are the only ones who know a thing about exes."

Jim, McCoy, and Spock sat around the Captain’s desk in his quarters, enjoying a particularly potent blend of top-shelf beverages. At least, the two humans partook. Spock held onto a mug of tea himself, sipping steadily while Jim continued to tip a vibrant green liquid past his lips. He raised an angled brow at the doctor’s statement.

"Doctor?"

"Well,” he leaned forward, elbows resting on the surface before him, inadvertently nudging a nearby plant dangerously close to the edge. “That T'pring didn't exactly treat you to the warmest welcome, did she?"

"I have exes, Bones,” Jim chimed in, delayed by his moderate intoxication. He reached out to push the plant back to a more sturdy position before Spock could do so, rubbing one of its leaves between his fingers briefly.

“Yeah, but the ones you do got ‘re angels.” McCoy jabbed a finger into the space between them. “Not to mention, they’d all take you back ‘n a heartbeat if you asked. You know I’m right.”

Jim hummed, bobbing his head in consideration and tracing a circle around the edge of his glass. 

“Not Gary."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Gary’s dead."

"He's still my ex, no?” He picked up his glass again but did not drink from it. 

"And T'Pring is Spock's." The doctor turned his attention back to the science officer, a smile on his face Spock couldn’t discern a reason for. He set his mug down on the desk and clasped his hands together.

"T’Pring was correct in her assessment that our bond would not amount to what she is likely to achieve with Stonn. Her actions were logical."

"Oh, c’mon now.” McCoy waved a hand. “Logic. She'd’ve been lucky to have you."

"I continue to resist belief in the concept of luck, doctor."

Jim leaned closer then, brushing their shoulders together. Spock turned to address him, watching as a warm expression reached his eyes, flecks of soft pink light reflecting back from golden depths.

“I’ll convince you yet,” he murmured. Spock’s mind went blank in its attempt to formulate a response, making it a relief when the doctor cleared his throat. 

He shifted back, centering his posture. “Regardless, Captain.” 

“Jim,” he corrected. “Off duty, remember?”

He touched his glass to his lips but still did not drink. 

“Regardless, Jim.” In his peripheral vision, Spock saw McCoy finish his own drink in one swallow. “You misunderstand my meaning.”

“Then what did you mean?” The doctor’s voice was harsh from the burn of alcohol, blue eyes narrowed.

“I am not interested in sharing a life with her on Vulcan, as my home is no longer there.” 

Jim had propped his head against his hand, swirling his last dregs of green lazily with the other, waiting for him to say more.

“Of course, the issue is compounded by my lack of attraction to females.”

The glass slipped from Jim’s fingers, shattering against the floor. Spock raised both brows as the man then raised his hand toward McCoy and shushed him loudly.

“I didn't say anything!”

Jim leaned in toward Spock with urgency, nearly slipping off his chair in the process. Their knees touched, broken glass forgotten below them.

“Lack of... attraction?" He repeated. Spock noted a change in color to his cheeks, deepening beyond the usual pigment caused by alcohol consumption. 

“To females.” 

Spock nodded.

“Explain.”

“They do not arouse me,” he answered simply.

“Well, would you look at that?” McCoy was looking down into his empty glass. “I need another drink.”

“But, Spock.” Jim reached out for his shoulder as if the interruption had not occurred, grasping tightly to regain his attention. Spock raised a brow.

"Men." He whispered the word as if it contained some sort of secret. “Do they-”

McCoy turned from where he’d crossed the room to retrieve the bottle of brandy. Apparently too quickly, as his steps stuttered sideways.

"Jim!"

Jim’s hand on Spock’s shoulder jumped away, though he pulled his eyes away with significantly more difficulty.

"What?"

"You can't just-"

Spock interrupted. "It is a logical question."

"See?” Jim was smiling brightly when he turned back toward him. “He thinks I'm logical."

"Yeah, well, I think you're both stupid."

Spock crossed his arms over his chest, but Jim ignored the insult. He attempted not to notice the anticipation behind his expression, the way it pulled at him, made him consider reaching out as Jim so often did.

"Well, Mr. Spock?"

Spock blinked. "Males are, indeed, of primary interest to me."

"That's a whole lotta words to say you're gay."

McCoy had leaned back against the partition, glass to his lips. Jim covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, though it escaped in the form of a huff through his nose, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I believe, gentlemen, that is my cue to take my leave."

"No!” Jim’s smile fell suddenly and he leaned back into Spock, hand reappearing at his shoulder.

“Stay? Please?”

He swallowed, blinking slowly. Spock was all too aware of the four centimeters his hand slipped down his arm before his grip tightened to stop it, as well as the six centimeter decrease in space between their faces. 

“You haven’t even finished your tea, after all.”

This was a correct statement. Jim’s hand slipped another two centimeters lower.

“Yeah, Spock. Stay,” McCoy encouraged, downing the rest of his drink once again. “I’m leaving.”

Spock only briefly glanced at him before looking back at Jim. 

“Very well, Captain. If you wish me to remain.”

“Jim, Spock. Jim. And yes. I do.”

[writers-requiem]

Title: Back Home in Your Arms

Genere: Marvel, Superheroes, Comfort

Pairing: Beast x superhero!Reader

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of graphic injury, depictions of anxiety attacks, emotional breakdown

Rating: E10+ for Everyone 10 and up.

It was a quiet day. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

You had been away for days on end for a business trip to Chicago, and you both expected your return to be in just a week.

But then a week turned into two, then three plus some days. All the while his anxiety began to grow higher and higher.

To summarize what happened with Hank during the extra time you were gone, let's get descriptive.

Day 1: You both had assumed that your flight was simply delayed so didn't think much of it. So you went about doing your usual things to pass the time until the day concluded.

Day 2: He felt a little on edge, but not too terribly worried. Still, he sent you a text to make sure you were alright. After a few hours of no reply, his anxiety began to grow, but it was still manageable.

Days 3-4: He tried to call you over and over during his downtime, to which he got no response of any sort other than silence.

Days 5-7: His condition was visibly getting worse. He ate less and slept barely any at all. And even if he did sleep, he'd have frequent nightmares about what may have happened to you. Were you cheating on him? Was someone taking advantage of you? Did someone kidnap you? All these questions in his head made him uneasy.

Days 8-10: It's really getting bad, his figure has slimmed down at an alarming rate, the bags under his eyes are heavier than ever, and he can barely even do his usual tasks without his arms shaking or losing his grip. Not to mention his vision is getting worse, not even glasses help him.

Days 11-14: Now Hank is at his most vulnerable. He's holed up in his room, wracked with worry. His sanity is beginning to slip from fear, his heart rate is through the roof, eyes reddened from the seemingly endless hours of either silent or open crying. The others were already worried about him, but now their concerns are at an all-time high. Even before then, they had tried to trace your location to see where you were and what was going on so he could calm down a little, but nothing turned up.

Day 15: Half a month later and still no news. His room is trashed, his mood now only ranges from sad, to frightened. It's not a pretty sight.

A day later and there's a knock on the door.

Logan answers it and sees a slightly familiar face.

Logan: "He's not looking too good. You should see for yourself."

He led you to his room which had a name tag that read "Hank McCoy" in gold lettering.

Logan left you alone and you entered the room, noticing the state of disarray it was in, and the crumpled blue furry man on the ground, crunched up in the fetal position.

You: "Hank?"

You placed a hand on his head, causing him to jolt up and look at you.

It takes a couple minutes of him looking you over, feeling your skin and even sniffing your hair and the crook of your neck, but eventually, he realizes that it's you.

He's quick to embrace you, forgetting his own strength in spite of his condition. Still, you didn't mind. You were just happy to see him again. But his face was still wracked with worry. Your clothes were torn, and your body was covered in scratches, bruises, a black eye, deep cuts and lots of blood.

Hank: "Where have you been? What happened? Are you okay? Who hurt you? When did you-"

During his torrent of questions, you soothed his soul with a gentle kiss on the lips.

He closed his eyes and held you a bit more gently than previously. Then he pulled you in for another hug and showed no signs of letting you go.

You: "Long story short, supervillains interrupted the trip which made us late for our flights home, so I needed to hitch a few rides back here."

You took a look at the room around you and remarked how uncharacteristically messy it was.

You: "But it looks like you've been through a hell of your own."

Hank: "All that matters is that we're here. Home in our arms."

Afterwards the two of you took a shower to clean each other off after the past few days of chaos, then you slept together on the couch, the best sleep either of you have had in days. And come the next day, you spent it cleaning up his room and making sure he took care of himself. Meaning making sure he had plenty to eat and drink, getting in some exercise, and taking plenty of breaks. And in record time, he was back to his usual self.

You: "Now remember, if this happens again Hank, don't worry about me. I may not have powers, but I won't go down that easy."

Hank: "I know. Sorry love."

You two shared a kiss and just sat together in his lab, you snuggled up against him while he got back to work on his projects.

[affixjoy]

Here’s a list of all my Star Trek fics!

Spirk

Wanna be the one that you want to see aka the Spirk sex tropes one. My most popular Trek fic on ao3 and one I’m particularly proud of!

Spectacles painted with my shaking hand aka the one with the oranges and sexy oil

I thought I saw you smile aka the snw body swap fic

We need disposable towels in the gym aka my funniest fic, the one where the Enterprise HR has to deal with ALL the sex happening on board.

Risks and Rewards aka the one with the unstoppable spontaneous orgasms

And Stars May Collide aka my very self indulgent fic where Spirk lives through the movie Moulin Rouge due to alien dream bullshit

Spock vs the IT guy aka Spock feuds with the IT guy and finally hooks up with Kirk

The Upside of Rumors aka the one where the crew makes spreadsheets and bets over where Spock and Kirk are together

And with one heart I reached for you aka the one where Sam’s ghost checks in on Spirk

Star Trek Drabbles aka 100 word warm up of Spirk

Strange New Dicks aka the one where Spock’s dick changes every chapter for Vulcan bonding purposes

McKirk

We both had a hand in it (you and me both kid) aka the one where Jim leaves a vibrator in Bones’ bed.

Hunt me down, catch in my throat, make me pray aka not even the hint of plot, this is only porn.

Spones

Nothing that shouldn’t have happened long ago aka what I think happened between Spock and Bones after the TOS episode All Our Yesterdays

Handle Me With Care aka the one where Bones has to remove his own appendix aka the one that was in the nsfw Sponeszine

McSpirk

A Most Fascinating Experience aka McSpirk pwp with a lot of dirty talk from Bones.

Sometimes a feeling is all we have to go on aka the one where Bones can’t come.

and yes I said yes I will Yes aka that time I decided to bring together mcspirk, Pon Farr, and that sexy capital Y from Molly Bloom’s soliloquy

Keep our minds on the sun of each other aka my aos McSpirk featuring some fun made up Vulcan meditation rituals for Spock to use to romance Bones.

A heart should always go one step too far aka voyeur Bones, possibly my steamiest fic?

Leap beyond logic aka the end of the TMP divorce era

Take me places I’ve never known aka snw era getting together, the one where Jim gets confused about what Spock’s genital situation is

You know we’ll have a good time then aka the one where Kirk and Spock get Joanna’s age VERY wrong

Spuhotty

Spock The Liar aka the one where Snw Spock hooks up with Uhura and Scotty, pure pwp

Amanda/Sarek

Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time aka Amanda and Sarek getting together fic, wip but will hopefully be done soon

[illegalpaladin]

I am 3100 words into my mcspirk smut fic. No smut has happened because I'm having too much fun with the dynamic of these three. I'm having a great time. I love these old men.

[dustykneed]

what's got ya smilin' like that, mr spock?

(the answer? his husbands, of course.)

and hope y'all don't mind the plug, but i have two new mcspirk fics up on my ao3 🎉 both archive locked and rated E. all our tomorrows (spones hurt/comfort) and put your money where your mouth is (jim gets himself into a Situation). both reasonably lighthearted, but i go into more detail in the work tags.

[celestialvoyeur]

Just for a change, I’m throwing in a little something for my McSpirk friends. Everyone loves the ‘only one bed’ trope, right? 😝

[insane-thoughts-oftheday]

I need a specific fic about that scene on the plane, where Charles and Erik are fucking with rage, and Hank and Logan are trying to ignore them both but end up making out too. I'm sure that damn thing had autopilot.

[wwillywonka]

spock crying in the the motion picture novelization

as i was watching star trek the motion picture today, i found myself wondering how closely it and the book align only to find that the essential scene, the thesis statement of the tmp story, where spock draws a direct parallel between v'ger and himself while crying is simply... not in the book. i know the version that's more widely available now is the director's cut and that said scene wasn't even in the original theatrical release, but the movie is simply incomplete without it. so! i decided to write out the scene as if it were in the book! please enjoy my take on a prose version of spock's beautiful speech

“Spock?” Then, when his Science Officer did not answer, “Mr. Spock.”

Kirk rose from the captain’s chair and made for the console where Spock sat, facing away from him towards the screen that displayed Vejur’s activity.

“I think -" Kirk began.

Then, Spock turned towards him in his chair, hand releasing from its resting place against the thin line of his mouth. He was — crying. A single, shimmering tear was streaking down his left cheek. His eyes, usually so dark and, since his return from Vulcan, so indecipherable, now shone brightly under the dim, warm light of the bridge. His eyebrows crinkled inwards, not in contemplative thought but, and Kirk would have never guessed, worry. It seemed that open, unashamed emotion left over from Spock’s mind meld with the intruder had not yet dissipated, though Kirk was unsure if Spock’s tears were more Vejur’s than his own.

Spock nodded his head, lifting it a little towards his captain, slightly accusatorily. There was no attempt to hide, no apologetic aversion of gaze. It seemed as if he were telling Jim, “Yes, believe what you are seeing, Captain.

“I have returned.”

Kirk felt McCoy step into place at his side, the doctor’s eyes settling on the now multiple tears pooling down Spock’s face. The captain shared a look with McCoy, acknowledging their mutual concern and astonishment towards their friend.

“Not for us,” Kirk finally stated.

“No, Captain. Not for us.” Spock’s voice, if perhaps a little softer than usual, was confident, steady, calm. Certain. “For Vejur.”

Spock raised his hands, intertwining the fingers in a familiar, thoughtful gesture, but kept them suspended in the air, fidgeting.

Commander Decker approached, too, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the image before him. Kirk showed no sign of acknowledging his presence, the captain’s attention entirely focused on his friend.

“I weep for Vejur as I would for a brother," Spock continued. "As I was when I came aboard, so is Vejur now. Empty, incomplete, and searching. Logic and knowledge are not enough.”

Kirk thought back to every argument, every insistent remark Spock made during their initial five-year mission about his lack of emotion, about his fundamental inability to consider anything else but logic and careful reasoning. Were these out of desperation, a need for the humans of the old Enterprise crew to accept his words as fact so that he, too, could cement their validity? Maybe in Spock’s mind, the more times he declared it, the closer it would be to coming true.

“Spock,” McCoy cut in, colliding reality with Kirk’s thoughts and Spock’s poetic words. “Are you saying that you’ve found what you needed, but Vejur hasn’t?” Decker spoke first. “What would Vejur need to fulfill itself?” Spock moved his gaze towards the main screen, just past Kirk’s head in his line of sight. “Each of us, at some time in our lives, turns towards someone: a father, a brother, a god… and asks, ‘Why am I here? What was I meant to be?’” He took in a sharp breath. “Vejur hopes to touch its creator-“ And now, he lifted his gaze, meeting Kirk’s eyes. “To find its answers.”

“‘Is this all that I am?’” said the captain, quoting Spock’s words from their conversation in sickbay. “‘Is there nothing more?’”

[lichqueenlibrarian]

IM WHEEZING

JIMOTHY

[an-actual-floof]

back from the landing party

(inspired lowkey by Nightvision by Susan K James. Fully a Spirk fic but the McCoy/Kirk dynamic making me weep a bit)

[anindoorchild]

I just started Star Trek TOS and I was worried Kirk and Bones wouldn’t love each other as much as I want them to but THEY DO. I’m screaming. like “Plum”?! whatttttt just KISS

[purpleenma]

Like Yin and Yang

My gift to @donsdrawn for the Mcspirk Gift Exchange 2024 inspired by their awesome ongoing fic Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking.

In this AOS AU Jim and Spock are rival models that have a huge crush on Bones, the professional photographer that usually takes their pictures. This is their first time working together and trying to be professional about it.

I also needed to do this extra doodle, the silly compelled me xD

AO3 art post