#the catalyst was when really when i was out in the field with my professor/mentor/one of my favorite people

[lemonsandmorelemons]

Also. While I'm posting personal stuff. I've pretty much entirely quit vaping. yeah I switched to nic pouches instead but after two years that shit it's so nice and a small victory

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

cut + burn, chapter 1

Pairing: Colossus/reader -  Playlist

Summary: Wade decides that sixteen years of mutual pining is long enough. He's appointed himself your new wingman, and he's the best in town (or so he likes to think). Or, how the compound effort of Wade Wilson and total romantic frustration gave way to getting exactly what you've been waiting for.

Chapter 1: Suzanne

Part 2

Author’s Note: This is part one of a 5-part series. I’d like to tell you that this is something other than the introduction to a ton of smut, but that’s exactly what this is. Chapter title is Suzanne by Leonard Cohen.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection  @emma-frxst  @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu  @chromecutie  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @hazilyimagine  @lenavonschweetz  @nu-tt  @rovvboat  @i-write-fanfic-not-essays

-----   -----   -----

You stepped off of the X-Jet onto the manicured green lawn of the X-Mansion and breathed deeply, struck by sweet relief and a feeling of inner peace that only comes from stretching your legs after being squeezed into a cubicle for eighteen hours. The mansion was just far enough away from the city that the fumes and funk from the crowded streets didn’t quite reach the immaculate stonework. Even better, there was no smoke, no fumes, no filtered air from the X-Jet vents - just clean, cold October air that smelled faintly of cut grass and sunshine. For that, you were exceptionally grateful.

Mostly because you were tired of smelling everyone else’s stank on the cramped X-Jet, but, you know, small favors.

As you stepped off of the ramp and onto the impeccable grass, it finally hit you that today was your Retirement Day, all caps, fanfare trumpeting in the background. Sixteen years of jetting around the globe and cleaning up everyone else's shit had led to this final, glorious day. In your line of work, sixteen years without a full-on mental breakdown was a major win.

As reigning HBIC of Professor Xavier's cleanup crew, you’d seen a lot of messes over the years that would have left anyone feeling hollow inside - kind of like your guts had been scooped out and dumped on the ground. The scenes were always ugly. You were the one running off to go coordinate transports of rogue mutants to holding facilities or clean up the bodies left behind from a particularly ugly villainous rampage. Those were your everyday, small-scale chores. The large-scale mass tragedies were the catalyst that really forced your retirement.

Your duties weren’t limited to your obligations to the X-Men - you cleaned up behind everyone. You’d dealt with the fallout from everything the Avengers had ever touched: you'd disposed of the alien corpses after the battle in New York, scoured Sokovia for salvageable lives, cleaned up after Thanos. You'd cleaned up behind all of Dr. Doom’s rampages and Magneto’s tantrums. Everywhere you'd been sent was overrun by the kind of wreckage that left an everlasting mark on your brain. And these mass impacts had only been occurring more and more often lately.

The aftermath of your Last Hurrah as a trademarked Active Duty Hero was bittersweet. There would be a fun party that night with everyone who wasn’t on some covert mission in attendance. Your team had come home with you, and your friends were waiting. They'd make you a cake and pour you a beer and maybe, just maybe, coerce you out into the city for a night of fun. There would be streamers with “Happy Retirement!” written on them, obviously meant for someone much older than yourself. Everyone would congratulate you for sixteen years of impeccable conduct and efficacy.

And tomorrow you would wave your team off on their next task - a task they would complete without you. You’d already chosen your replacement, a new graduate with the power to microwave the air around whatever she targeted. The girl had only been part of your team for a year, but she had great leadership skills and showed real promise. You had confidence in her for sure, but confidence in her abilities wasn't enough to help you sleep at night.

You'd come to find out that passing the torch was much harder than you’d been led to believe. While you had no reason to be unsure of your choice, you had a major problem with relinquishing control. Seriously, it had taken sixteen years for you to decide that enough was enough and you were tired of cleaning up every nasty scene imaginable. You weren't the kind of person who just let shit go.

Nevertheless, you'd finished your last active mission and made it home safely, no worse for wear and no more traumatized than before you left. You'd have to figure out how to handle it on your own time.

The welcoming committee stood off to the side of the small airfield. There were friends and mentors crowding the field, Professor X and the like. Some people you were only acquainted with, like Wade and his buddies. And while you enjoyed seeing each and every one of them, you were only looking for one person in particular - and he wasn’t difficult to find.

Colossus stood head and shoulders above the crowd, the tallest of the tall. He'd taken time away from his duties that day to welcome you home. Not that you expected any less - you’d been friends since you arrived at the mansion twenty years ago. He’d already “retired” from active duty himself, nearly six years earlier than you, if you remembered correctly. Said he liked teaching more than beating the shit out of people. Since he was going to be the one teaching you how to be a teacher, you were going to see firsthand if that was actually true.

Your team disembarked from the jet in a steady wave of mutants. They were the weirdest of the weird - graduates whose powers weren't optimal choices for task teams or active combat but were still “active” abilities. At its heart, your team was a squadron of people who could decimate wreckage or do something weird enough to make disposing of ickiness a little easier. You, as the leader of this squadron of weirdos, must have had the weirdest skill-set of all.

Your former team (that would take some getting used to) mingled in with the group on the airfield, hugging and high-fiving, yelling greetings and (playfully) rude comments. You stopped to greet Professor X, but that was where the fanfare for you ended. You systematically squeezed past everyone separating you from Colossus and, upon reaching him, grabbed him in a tight hug, much to his embarrassment. (He wasn’t great with public displays of affection - never had been.)

Behind them, Wade howled like a hyena.

You stepped away from Colossus, staring sheepishly at the ground, at the same time he stepped away from you. He stared at his feet, which meant that he was still pretty much staring down at you since he was a good foot and a half taller than you. You’d meant to embarrass him on purpose, not really taking into account that your face would probably turn red, too.

Colossus gave you a short once-over, almost too quickly to notice. You smoothed out the creases in your suit, feeling quite self-conscious. You hadn't thought about how you must look returning from a mission before you'd stepped off the jet - probably disheveled, a little ruffled, like you needed a good week of sleep and a hot shower. He, on the other hand, was impeccably clean in his uniform, gleaming chrome in the late morning sun and rippling with muscle. You could have drooled just looking at the line of his forearms, but he was simply too shiny to get a good look at.

He straightened up and stood up a little taller, trying to maintain a look of composure. “Welcome home!”

You tried to mirror his composure and found it to be too troublesome. You were tired and there were too many people crowding around. Wouldn't this be so much better if it were just Colossus welcoming you home instead of this unending crowd of people?

You knew it sounded forced, but you said it anyway. “I’m glad to be home for good this time!”

Colossus raised a glinting silver eyebrow. “Are you really?”

Sometimes he knew you a little too well. You couldn't truthfully tell him that you were ready to come home - just that it was time to come home. Really home - not living in a constant state of perpetually ready to leave at a moment’s notice, not waking up with the sounds of explosions or falling wreckage, not squished into a tiny box on the X-Jet or sleeping on a cot in a safehouse somewhere. You knew where your three square meals were coming from, where you would be sleeping at night when you had to wake up in the morning. You had weekends off now. Getting used to it was just going to take time.

Colossus sensed your apprehension but didn’t comment, though you could practically hear him thinking we'll talk about this later. You forced a grin. “It’s time to come home.”

“If you’re sure…” he replied, still incredulous. Yeah, he was going to make you talk about your feelings.

“I’m sure.”

He was obviously unsatisfied with your answer. “In any case, I’m glad you’re home."

Desperate to talk about anything else other than being home, you changed the subject. "Are we still meeting later?"

He'd mentioned in a mission brief that he wanted to meet to talk about your first day of teacher training. You suspected that it was more so a cover-up for his responsible adult questions about your mental health so that he could assess you before your retirement party. You appreciated that Colossus cared and made you talk about things, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that feelings were hard to talk about. Especially with him - it always seemed to be harder to show vulnerability with someone who truly cared.

He brightened. "Yes! After you settle in, of course."

"How about you come to get me after I take a nap?" you laughed. "You haven't given my room away, have you?"

"Your room is exactly as you left it," Colossus replied, just a little quieter than usual. He shifted and seemed just on the verge of saying something else, but instead, he said, "I'm sure you would rather get to bed than stay out here. Come!"

Colossus ushered you towards the mansion where everyone seemed to finally be meandering. You knew you couldn’t leave to go to your room just yet - still too many people to greet. You'd do absolutely anything to get in the shower and take a nap. Your shower sang a promise of warmth, and your bed called to you louder than any siren song, the promise of rest and safety like a hymn drifting down from your third-floor room. Maybe you could just fuck off and no one would notice...

As you stepped past the threshold of the mansion, you felt Colossus' hand on your shoulder. He leaned down close to your ear, and you fought back a shiver.

"Go. I will make an excuse for you," he said, nudging you gently towards the stairs.

You clapped your hands over your heart. "My hero."

You would swear on your life that he smiled his soft smile at that, but you'd already leapt onto the first stair and run out of sight.

Colossus was right - your room was exactly as you left it. Pillows arranged in a simple pattern at the head of the bed, navy blue comforter clean and unwrinkled. A desk was shoved into one corner, old and creaky but well-loved. An equally ancient dresser situated up against the wall, the dark wood cracking and hardware knobs oxidizing. You'd left a spare uniform on a chair next to the dresser and a stack of blankets neatly folded at the foot of your bed. Your bathroom door was wide-open, calling to you like a prayer.

You stripped down and turned on the water to let it heat up. You showered longer than you ever had, letting the scalding water beat down on your head and rinse shampoo suds out of your hair. When you were acceptably clean and shriveled up like a prune, you finally got out. The water had started to run cold anyway. You wrapped up in a towel, laid down on your bed, and before you knew it, you were out cold.

-----  -----  -----

You awoke an hour later to a knock at your door. Your hair was still wrapped up in a towel as you searched for a bathrobe (you could have sworn you left that on the chair instead of your uniform). You could pretty much guess who was at the door, so the desire to stay mostly undressed was pretty intense. Nevertheless, you covered up so that you could at least appear to be a presentable excuse for a human being.

You opened the door to find - who else - Colossus. He made a pointed effort not to stare down at you in your robe and wet hair. Not that you minded if he did. You'd have answered the door naked if you weren't afraid he'd run away.

"Sorry - just woke up."

He shifted, looking a mite uncomfortable. “I will be down in the kitchen whenever you are ready.”

You nodded, inching the door closed. “I’ll get dressed and be right down.”

Colossus started making his way down the hall. He called back over his shoulder, “I will make tea.”

“Coffee for me, please!” you called after his retreating back. You peeked out after him and watched him walk away. Man, his ass looked great in those pants.

“It will be decaf!”

“I want real coffee, Piotr!”

He might have replied to you, but you'd closed the door already. You grabbed the closest clean pair of pants and shirt that you could find. The clothes you grabbed may have been workout clothes, but after weeks and weeks of wearing your uniform, anything else was better than your uniform. And you’d make an attempt to look nice for the party tonight since everyone would be there - one person in particular, of course.

Speaking of that particular person, you scurried out of your room to join him down in the kitchen, locking your door behind you.

As you walked through the halls, you passed by the residents of the mansion milling around the dorm halls. Some you knew, but most were foreign to you. Your friends were either off on missions or had left the mansion a long time ago. Some were dead, memorialized on the walls. The few who had chosen to stay at the mansion were teachers now or stationed at a base far, far away.

The kitchen was on the first floor, just off to the side of the main hall. It had been remodeled, you remarked offhandedly as you sat down at the table. Colossus hunched over the new stove, fussing over the teakettle and a pair of mugs. The coffee pot next to him hummed and dripped black gold into the pot. Next to the coffee pot, the bag of coffee (not decaf!) was still open.

Colossus grabbed the mugs and sat down in front of you; his chair squeaked in despair but held steady. He passed your mug off to you. “I found some regular coffee you left last time you were home.”

“And here I remember you scolding me for drinking coffee so late in the afternoon,” you teased. You took a healthy sip from the scalding mug - thankfully, hot temperatures didn’t bother you (thanks, mutation). "Why the sudden change of heart?"

“I suspect that the party tonight will last much longer than anticipated,” Colossus replied, smirking. He blew on his mug of tea and took a ginger sip, grimacing. Unlike you, scalding temperatures sucked for him. “Your team makes a habit of partying until dawn.”

“Hey, we clean up dead bodies,” you said. You’d downed almost half the mug already and decided it was probably better to sip for the rest of the meeting. “Work hard, play hard.”

"They learned it from you," Colossus hummed. He sat his mug down. As suspected, he had an ~adult conversation~ planned. “You do not seem excited to be home.”

“Oh, no, I’m happy to be home,” you insisted. Your fingernails were suddenly more interesting than anything else in the room, particularly the man looking at you like a stray puppy. “It’s just hard to let go.”

“Adjusting to a less stressful situation is not easy, but you will have teaching to occupy your time and that’s certainly stressful,” Colossus agreed. His hand twitched as if he meant to stop you from peeling off your cuticles until your fingers bled, but he kept his hands on his tea mug. “And you have me - I have been through this already. Everyone in the mansion is your family, and we are all here for you.”

“I’ll adjust,” you replied shortly.

“And you know if you need to talk about it…”

“You know you’re the first person I’ll run to,” you said softly, cutting him off. You sat up straighter in your chair and took another sip of coffee. “Enough with the counseling session, today is supposed to be a happy day! Let’s talk about teaching!”

Colossus eyed you thoughtfully but conceded. “We will go over the lesson plans in detail later. You will start by teaching the middle-grades age group beginning next week. I want you to teach the little ones, but they are a bit rowdy and I don’t want to scare you away from teaching on your first day.”

“I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“You will also be assigned a trainee,” Colossus continued. “I have not finalized who will be assigned to you, but I have a solid idea.”

“Anyone I know?”

"I do not think so," he hummed. “She arrived while you were gone last time. She has similar abilities and a similar temperament. It is likely she will be assigned to cleanup upon graduation.”

“So, I’ll be training my replacement?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Colossus looked away, sheepish. “It was not intentional, but yes.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You pushed your mug away after draining the last bit of coffee. Colossus always kept a bag for you in the pantry, but you were pretty sure he didn’t know you knew. You knew you hadn’t left a bag of your regular brew behind - a bag of coffee grounds was one of the first things that went into your luggage. Hell, you’d started bringing your own coffee pot onto the X-Jet because your team would throw hands over the coffee pot. 

“I will come and check on you periodically,” Colossus said. “But I expect that you will be fine. Do you have any questions?”

You’d have questions when you actually started teaching, but you didn’t at that moment. Really, you just wanted to sit at the table and talk to him. Not about your feelings or teaching - just talking.

“No questions,” you replied. “Not about teaching, at least. You are coming to the party tonight, right?”

“I would not miss it!” Colossus said. He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, grinning proudly. “I made the cake. And helped decorate.”

You laughed. “Of course, you did.”

“I am glad that you are home,” Colossus said simply, “and I wanted to be the one to welcome you back. Also, the cake is chocolate.”

“It’s not that protein cake stuff you made last time I was home, is it?”

“No," he smirked. "We will have plenty of time for protein cake after training tomorrow.”

You paled. “You’re not leading the workout, are you?”

Colossus could never be described as sinister. Intimidating, maybe. Scary, sometimes. But never sinister. Yet, his answering grin toed that line. “What better way to welcome you back than by leading your first workout?”

You could think of several ways to welcome you back that were better than suffering through one of Colossus’ workouts, naming locking him in your bedroom with you. You guessed that he was probably on the same page, but he wasn’t going to say it.

As long as you’d been friends, you’d been back and forth with the unspoken thing - that stupid mutual attraction that neither of you addressed because your respective lifestyles were explosive and hectic. Once Colossus had retired from missions, the unspoken thing had gotten more intense - a pining for you that you could sense without him saying it. It had gotten worse for you, too. It’s just that you weren’t ready to come home - until the day that you decided it was finally time.

Basically, last week. Damn your stubbornness.

“You’re going to run me into the ground before my first day,” you whined, though it was half-hearted.

“Tough workout is good for you!”

“Right, okay,” you replied. You stood up, grabbed both empty mugs, and marched to the sink. “I’m gonna go get ready for this wild party.”

"Leave the dishes. I'll get them."

"Too late - I beat you to it."

-----   -----   -----

You'd never seen your name written this many times. Everything had your name scrawled on it. The streamers hanging from the ceiling, resplendent black and gold, all spelled out your name and “Happy Retirement!” Your cake spelled out your name in Colossus’ careful block lettering. Even the wrapping paper on the handful of gifts in the center of the table spelled out your name (how the hell did they find that?). You really weren’t thrilled about the “retirement” part, but you could deal with it for the rest of the night.

You were greeted by a round of screaming and applause as soon as you walked down the stairs, started by none other than your own rowdy team. They'd already been drinking and had probably started as soon as the jet landed. The younger X-Men joined in, mostly just looking for a reason to cut loose and cheer. Your older friends joined in, much more subdued than the rest, but much more sincere with their claps on the back and gently pointed age jokes. Colossus’ team, headed up by the Man of Steel himself, presented you with a giant slice of cake and an even larger can of beer.

You knew your face must have been red from all the attention, but as soon as you dug into the cake and chugged half your beer, the embarrassment started to fade. The attention was awkward, but this was your party for your retirement, and damn it if you weren’t about to have a good time. You’d always enjoyed a good party, and that night was as good as any to get splendidly plastered with your team after a job well done.

You were two sheets to the wind in when Wade Wilson handed you your third can of beer. He, like most of the people in attendance, had elected to wear his uniform (you had chosen not to - you had to retire your current suit anyhow). He was wet from where he’d spilled beer all over the fake leather.

“I say we do shots after Shiny Jesus goes to bed for the night,” Wade cheered, offering his drink in a toast.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” You tapped his can in toast and took a long drink. “You’d never believe it, but he can out-drink everyone here. Shots go down for him like water.”

“You’re shitting me!”

You shook your head. Bad idea. The world spun topsy-turvy and took its sweet time before it righted itself. “Nope. I convinced Logan to smuggle me a bottle of straight vodka for my eighteenth birthday. Couple hours in, Kitty and I were puking in the corner - man, I got sick that night - and Piotr was still taking shots with frickin’ Wolverine like it was nothing.”

“That Colossus? Giant metal boy scout?” Wade stared, slack-jawed, over at Colossus, who was picking at the greens on his plate (not a single dessert in sight). “What happened? And what do I have to do to get him to cut loose like that?”

You shrugged. “If you figure it out, lemme know. I think that was the last time I’ve ever seen him do that - not that either of us has really been home long enough at the same time to party like that. He’s always been so responsible. I mean, I’m responsible too, but he’s just cut from a different cloth.”

Which was true. You had your irresponsible moments, but for the most part, you had your shit together. You couldn’t remember a time when Colossus had been anything less than poised and organized.

Wade leaned against the wall next to you. He had to be at least a full case in already. “So, uh, does he know?”

“I assume you’re talking about my feelings," you snorted. "Can’t imagine why people keep talking to me about that - it’s not like I’m an emotional disaster right now or anything. Yeah, he knows. He’s always known. It’s mutual.”

Wade paused. “And why are you not,” he gesticulated wildly, like he was working through some weird, cosmic math problem, “a thing? Like, why are you down here at this party instead of getting the Metal D?”

“Kind of hard to be a thing when you’re never home at the same time,” you replied, glancing over to where Colossus had set up camp. He was currently entertaining Professor X and a younger X-Man that you didn’t know, still stabbing at the salad on his plate. “Or only home for a couple of days at a time.”

“You know what you should do?” Wade asked, a sparkle in his eye. He chugged the last of his beer, crushed the can against his head, and tossed the garbage off into the corner.

“I have a feeling I know where this is going…”

“Sneak away, take the Tin Man upstairs, and get a real homecoming,” Wade said like it was some fantastic revelation or a particularly scandalous secret. “And if you get loud, we’ll all pretend tomorrow that it was the guy with the pigeon wings.”

You laughed. “I’m not opposed to the idea, but I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna go for that.”

“You won’t know unless you try!”

“Except I do know,” you replied, idly watching the way Colossus' muscles bulged every time he flexed his arms. “I think he thinks I’m going to run off on a mission and be gone by morning. It’s going to require finesse to show him that I’m home for good.”

“In that case,” Wade pushed off from the wall and draped his arm around your shoulders. He reeked of cheap cologne and trashy beer. “I hereby offer my services as your wingman, and hearing no objections, appoint myself to the position.”

Wade stuck out his hand for you to shake.

You peered down at his leather-bound hand. Wade was still something of an anomaly to you, but he seemed invested. Goofy and mildly annoying as he was, he obviously meant well. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have a little help…

You took his hand and shook. “It’s a deal.”