#xmen fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ichorai · 1 year

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as it was ; logan howlett.

track seven of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; logan howlett x mutant!scientist!gn!reader

synopsis ; you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

words ; 9.1k

themes ; angst, fluff, action, mutant au, scientist au

warnings / includes ; descriptions of violence and gore, death, blood and injuries, alcohol, smoking, emotions™, logan calls you 'bub' and 'darlin', reader has the ability to manipulate matter, reader is a scientist, based on marvel comics presents: weapon x issues #72-84, mentions of the brotherhood and the rest of the x-men, charles is your bff :D, not accurate x-men timelines </3

main masterlist.

You pressed your knuckles into your tired eyes, wincing when bright colors exploded behind your eyelids. Gingerly, you blinked to adjust back to the brightness of the laboratory’s artificial lights, stifling a wide yawn with the back of your palm.

It was your shift to watch him. Weapon X.

Everything was deathly silent, other than the rhythmic beeping of the machine in front of you. The machine that told you he was still alive. Still breathing.

You shifted in the leather chair, swallowing the uncomfortable lump in your throat.

The man—was he even a man anymore?—laid motionless and limp within the vat. His features, softened with unconsciousness, were still rugged and intimidating, nearly hidden by the hundreds of wires sticking out of his form.

They brought you in just a week ago, so you were still getting used to everything here. The other scientists in the facility had told you that the man was a volunteer for the Weapon X project—that he needed to be given an adamantium skeleton or his own mutation would kill him from the inside out. Being a mutant-in-hiding yourself, you felt a certain calling to help him out.

So if you were helping this man recover, why did it feel so wrong?

Biting the side of your cheek, you slipped out of the chair and strode up to the vat, resting a hand on the glass barrier. It was cold beneath your fingertips.

You could’ve sworn you saw his foot twitch—

The door to the lab whooshed open, and the head scientist, Dr. Cornelius, strode in, shooting you a humorless look, wordlessly telling you that your shift was over.

Pursing your lips, you pulled yourself away from the glass, sparing the man in the vat one last glance before stepping back to the chair to gather your things.

“Anything interesting to note?” the old man asked you.

You clicked your tongue against your teeth. “Nothing at all for the past couple of hours, Doc. He’s responding exceptionally well to the chemical bath.”

He made a disinterested noise, as if the prospect of things going well bored him, before sinking into another chair and heaving a large sigh.

Hesitant, you stepped forward to ask, “Doctor? Sorry, I was just wondering if I could ask you some questions.” It was about time you knew just what was going on here—there was definitely something that he wasn’t telling you.

The man lifted his gaze to you, seeming annoyed already. “What is it?” A scowl threatened to play by the corner of your lips, but you forced on an indifferent expression.

“I just… I keep thinking about him.”

“Who? Logan?”

His name was Logan. He had a name. Well—of course he did. You suddenly felt sick.

“Yeah. I keep thinking about what we’re doing to him.”

The doctor narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but wisely chose to remain silent, goading you to carry on.

The machine beeped. You glanced at the unconscious man in the vat.

“Before I came here… was he—was Logan—here? And I don’t mean him as Weapon X. I mean it like the man before this. Was he here?”

“No,” Cornelius replied, far too quickly for your liking. He averted his gaze, focusing on the machine in front of him. “I don’t know. What are you asking here, kid?”

This time, you didn’t bother to suppress the frown budding across your face. “I mean,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “did Logan sign up for this?”

“I already told you,” Cornelius gruffed out, “he volunteered.”

“And why should I believe you? Why have you named him Weapon X if all we’re trying to do is cure him? Why did you have to erase his memories? Why have you been forcing him to fight wild animals in the forest? Are you making me attach adamantium to his skeleton because you want to help him, or because you want to manufacture a mindless killing machine?” Your voice had raised several notches in volume, and the doctor seemed to recoil at your words. Sucking in a breath to calm your erratic pulse, you spoke again, “You’re not telling me something, Cornelius.”

The doctor, stunned into silence, took several moments to gather what he wanted to say. A rebuttal was just on the tip of his tongue, but he knew it would be fruitless.

You’ve figured it out.

And he would have to kill you for it.

“Was he abducted? Kidnapped?” you asked again, voice strained.

“Congratulations,” the doctor sneered, slowly rising to his feet. “You’ve put together the puzzle pieces.”

Bile rose in your throat. “Logan was forced into this. He didn’t want any of it. You… you’re trying to make a monster but—you’re the real monster here.” Slowly, you started backing up. “You were using me. You knew that I wouldn’t help graft the adamantium to his skeleton if I knew the truth. You’re insane. You’re sick.”

With a mangled cry, the doctor lunged forward, knocking you to the ground as his palms found your throat. Pain flourished through your spine as it thudded against the sleek tiles of the floor, a strangled sound crawling from your lips. You clawed at his hands at first, desperate and losing air far too quickly.

Then, you grappled at his face, scratching at his cheeks until blood welled in tiny droplets from the red marks you drew. This only seemed to enrage him further, fingers pressing harder into your trachea. Dark spots danced about your vision and you gasped for breath, eyes misting over with unshed tears.

Fuck. You needed to do something. Quick.

Maybe… your powers—

No. No, you’d find another way. You refused to lose control of yourself ever again.

The chair was right beside you. If you could just… hook your foot around one of its legs and tip it forwards…

Your mouth fell open as your lungs begged for mercy, limbs growing weaker with each passing second. You gave it your all to jerk forward, just enough to shift you down and catch the chair with your foot and yank it forwards.

The heavy metal seat tipped forward slowly, before giving in to its own weight and crashing on top of Cornelius. The bald man howled with pain, and his grip loosened on you momentarily. You hiked your knees upwards and slammed them into his stomach, shoving him away with a yell. Your chest heaved raggedly, greedily swallowing as much air as you could take.

The doctor was quick to recover from his initial shock. You thought he’d lunge for you again, but instead, he brandished a walkie talkie and yelled, “CODE RED, GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW! CODE RED!”

Without a damned clue what ‘code red’ meant, you rushed forward and slammed the emergency lockdown button on the control panel. A haggard sigh of relief left you when thick metal slabs slowly lowered down over the doors.

Cornelius, infuriated, grabbed the back of your head and shoved you down, slamming the side of your face into the plethora of buttons. A loud groan of pain ricocheted across the laboratory, blood seeping from one of your nostrils and slipping into your mouth, running a metallic copper taste along your tongue. He did it again, and again, and again, far too quickly for you to even begin to react. Faintly, you registered a whooshing sound in front of you—one of you must’ve accidentally hit the button that released Logan from his chemical bath.

You spat blood over the buttons with a snarl, reinvigorated, shooting your hands out to stop him from bashing your face in once more. Twisting your body, you kicked at his knee as hard as you could, which made Cornelius collapse forward. You messily drove your fist into his eye socket, pushing him back, away from the control panel. The doctor fell onto the ground and you kicked at his skull with the heel of your shoe.

There was blood dripping down your chin. Your nose was throbbing. You were disoriented, vision splitting into blurry duplicates. Dizzy, you dropped to your haunches, crawling as far away as you could from Cornelius.

Noises were coming from the other side of the lab. Where Logan was.

Wincing, you were just about to turn to look before Cornelius’ hand wound around your ankle, yanking you to him with surprising strength. He punched you in the shoulder first, trying to aim for your face. You flailed your limbs, attempting to kick your feet, but he had trapped your legs between his. A struggling whimper shook your lips, breaths coming in fast, staccato beats. The second time he punched you, he hit you dead on. Your vision went dark for a good ten seconds. You could tell one of your eyelids had already swollen shut.

Desperate and panicked, you lurched upwards and bit into whatever you could. You sank your teeth in until red squirted straight into your other eye, and copper flooded your mouth once more. An ear-piercing scream rattled through the lab.

As you furiously wiped away the dark ichor from your eyes, you realized that he wasn’t screaming because of you—not really, at least.

He was screaming because there were three adamantium claws protruding from his abdomen.

And just behind him was Logan.

A terrified garble tore through your own throat. A string of nonsensical words fell from you—ranging from cries for help, prayers to whatever god would listen to you, and incoherent sobbing as pure terror ripped through you, whole and consuming.

There were still wires hanging off of the man’s starkly naked form, dragging against the ground behind him. His skin glistened with the residue from the chemical bath, droplets still falling from his damp hair and rolling over his defined muscles. With a near animalistic growl, he threw Cornelius’ lifeless corpse to the side, his adamantium claws streaking down both your arm and your side in the process. Another wail erupted from you and you curled into a fetal position, cradling your injuries and fruitlessly trying to put as much pressure as you could against the wounds. Blood seeped from you, staining the once-pristine floors with a growing pool of liquid rubies. You were light-headed, tilting your head up to look at Logan standing in front of you. Horror painted your insides with a thick, tar-like substance.

He made no move to hurt you any further, only regarding you with dark, distant eyes, like he just could just barely recognize your face. He remembered you.

You wanted to plead—beg him for mercy.

You cracked your shaking lips open, but the words lodged firmly in your throat, a sob rippling through your lungs. Hot tears streamed down your bloodied cheeks in fat dollops.

The mutant surprised you, then.

He spoke.

“I am…” he croaked out, seeming slightly miffed. It took him another couple of seconds to articulate his next words. His brain had been fried over and over again, the English language was something he had nearly completely forgotten. “I am… dead? I remember… death. Dying.”

You were shaking uncontrollably now. Whether it be because of the terror, or because of the insurmountable blood loss, you weren’t quite sure. Most likely both.

Voice warbling, you croaked out, “No, Logan. You’re not dead.”

His dark pupils darted to the pool of blood by your side, then moved down to his own hands and claws, practically soaked red. His chest heaved.

Slowly, you raised a trembling hand to point at the winding metal staircase at the back of the laboratory. “Run, Logan,” you hoarsely whispered. “They’ll be here any minute. You have to go before they catch you again. Go upstairs—there’s a rear window you can escape through.”

The man narrowed his eyes at you.

He stalked away wordlessly, leaving only droplets of Cornelius’ blood in his wake.

The tension melted away from your body instantaneously. The urge to cry laid heavy on your conscience, but you shoved down the tears and slowly pushed yourself to your feet, placing pressure on your wounds as you staggered onto your feet. With a grunt, you limped to Cornelius’ corpse, kneeling down to rip his belt and shirt off.

A low groan rumbled from your chest when you tied the belt over the deep gash Logan had inflicted on you, wrapping his shirt tightly over the leaking wound on your waist. Whether it was an accident or a purposeful move, you had no clue. Immediately, blood seeped through the fabric. You decided not to pay it any mind.

Faintly, you registered shouting from the other end of the barricaded door. You were running out of time.

Huffing a curse, you struggled to your feet and stepped over Cornelius, bee-lining for the metal staircase. Upstairs, you could see the droplets of blood Weapon X had left behind. You swallowed heavily, before following them to the open window.

“Fuck,” you coarsely spat out, glancing down to see snow blanketing the ground nearly at knee-length. Trembling already, you hopped off the windowsill and onto the fire escape’s ladder, gingerly placing each foot on the lower rung until you were near enough to jump down.

The wind whispered frost into your ears as you looked forward, into the dark forest.

They would kill you if you went back inside. It seemed like you had no other choice but to follow Logan. He was your best chance at survival.

Your sigh misted into an opaque fog as you followed the trail of blood on the snowy forest floor.

It’d been hours.

You had lost nearly all sensation in your feet, numbed by the frigid cold. You supposed that was one upside of the frost—you could no longer feel the pain of your wounds, despite the large blooming of crimson seeping through Cornelius’ shirt. The lids of your eyes were heavy, drooping closed every few seconds before struggling back open. You wrapped your arms around yourself lethargically, struggling to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Logan was only a couple minutes in front of you. At least—you thought he was. Hell, he could’ve been five hours away by now, considering how out of it you were.

You swallowed your throat, dry and scratchy from the whipping wind of the forest.

Not even ten steps later, you found yourself tipping forward, succumbing to the exhaustion.

The snow was suddenly flush against your cheek, the world now angled vertically. Black spots danced about your sight. You only barely registered the pain of hitting the ground, a wooden stick poking uncomfortably against your leg. You couldn’t be bothered to move. You couldn’t feel anything—yet it felt like you were burning alive. Perhaps it was the blood loss. Maybe the shame of failure. Or it could’ve simply just been the fact that you’ve been wading around in the snow for hours. A small breath slipped from your lungs and your eyes fell shut.

A nap wouldn’t hurt… would it?

Just as the corners of your vision waned dark, the shadow of a figure loomed over you.

The last thing you felt right before you succumbed to the cold were a pair of warm arms winding around you.

Lights—far too many, far too bright. Your heavy eyelids narrowed as soon as they blinked open, and you gingerly turned your face to the side to avoid the glare of the harsh luminosity.

There were a couple things you registered in your early stages of rousing. You were no longer cold, bundled in several layers of woolen blankets on what you presumed to be an infirmary bed. You could feel the slight pressure of a proper bandage around your waist, which still throbbed but wasn’t nearly as painful as you remembered.

And there was a man in a lab coat beside you.

You stared at his back as he busied themself with colorful pills and bottles. Your throat was so dry, it took you several moments to muster yourself to croak out a warbling, “Hello?”

The man seemed to jump out of his shoes, turning abruptly with wide eyes behind thick, rectangular spectacles. “Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He shuffled to your side, watching you with evident concern.

You winced as you propped yourself up on one arm, slowly pulling yourself to sit up on the bed without putting too much weight on your wound. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

He pursed his lips. “That’s unfortunately quite expected—you’ll be feeling that way for a little bit before you get better. You took quite the beating out there—I tried my best to patch you up but I’m afraid the lacerations you got on your abdomen and arm will scar forever. Those bruises on your face, however, will be gone in a week, two tops.” The man paused, as if wanting to ask you a question, but thought better of it, shaking his head. “I’m gonna call somebody here to come talk to you. And I’ll go get you some water and food. Is that okay?”

Still reeling over everything, you nodded slowly, watching as he strode out of the infirmary.

Not a minute later, you heard the smooth rolling of wheels against tile. A bald man on a wheelchair swiftly entered the room, greeting you with a genuine smile and a bow of his head.

“You must be Doctor L/N,” he said, stopping just by your bedside. “I’m Charles Xavier. Now, I’m sure you have many questions—so let me try to answer them. You’re currently in Xavier’s School of Gifted Youngsters. I sensed your distress through my own telepathic mutation and had some of my X-Men go pick you and Logan up.”

At the mention of Logan, your muscles tensed, and your gaze snapped upwards to meet his.

“Logan… he’s here?”

Charles tilted his head, thinking back to the burly, pacing man in his office. “Yes, quite.”

“Is he okay?” you asked softly.

A wisp of a smile graced Charles’ lips. “He’s fine. A bit disoriented, but his memories are steadily returning. You, I’m more worried about. I know you’re a mutant, Y/N.”

Something dangerous flashed behind your irises. “I’ve never purposefully used my powers on anyone, if that’s what you’re asking. What happened to Logan—was because I was foolish enough to trust bad men.”

“I’m not blaming you, Y/N. You thought you were doing the right thing. Besides, the group who tricked you have been apprehended by the X-Men. They won’t be conducting anymore experiments on mutants,” he said, not unkindly. “I wanted to give you the liberty to explain what your mutation is… and if you can control it.”

“It’s only happened once before,” you whispered, fiddling with your nails anxiously. “I can manipulate matter, I think. Rearrange atoms and molecules in space. Once I start, I can’t control it—so I don’t ever intend to use it again.”

Charles regarded you for a moment, before nodding. “That’s quite the commitment. Would you mind me asking why?”

You hesitated, your teeth worrying into your bottom lip. “The first time I found out about my powers, someone died because of me. There was a car crash and my friend tried helping me and I… I panicked—” Tears quickly blurred your vision and you hiccuped, stopping to furiously wipe them away. “Shards of glass flew everywhere and…”

You trailed off, releasing a frustrated sigh.

“The cops ruled it as an accident, but I knew it was my fault. I moved out of town, started doing research with a university in molecular biology in hopes of finding out more about myself, when I got an offer to work with this company that ‘helped’ mutants. They lied to me. They were experimenting on them—and I should’ve known better. I thought I was saving Logan’s life.”

Charles hummed in thought, before shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. It was an accident—you didn’t know how to control your powers. But we can help you with that. If you stay, that is.”

Mouth parting in surprise, you leaned forward slightly in confusion. “You… you want me to stay here? After everything I’ve done? What will Logan think?”

“He knows it’s not your fault. There’s a reason he didn’t kill you—and a reason he carried you through the snow until we found the two of you. The deal is still on the table—just think about it. You’d make a valuable asset to our team.” A genuine smile etched over his face before he asked, “Would you perhaps want to see Logan?”

“No!” you exclaimed, a little too quickly. Charles’ eyebrows rose. Arms wrapping around yourself, you gently shook your head, repeating in a quieter tone, “No, thank you.”

The man observed you rather pensively before humming, “Alright, then. I’ll let you get some rest.”

“Thank you.” Despite the tautness of your tone, Charles knew you were wholly grateful. He bowed his head, and wheeled out of the infirmary room, leaving you with your thoughts.

To none of his surprise, leaning against the wall right next to the door, was Logan.

There was a cheap cigar wedged between his lips, hands clutched over the dog tags around his neck. He cocked his head to Charles as a greeting, gruffing out, “Are they alright?”

It was rather amusing to see such a brooding, stoic man lose his wits over a person he barely knew. Logan cared about you, and that made Charles all the more curious.

“I think Y/N’s going to be just fine.”

Logan huffed in something akin to relief, blowing out a puff of opaque smoke. After a long stretch of silence, Logan queried in a strained voice, “Can I see them?”

“It’s best if you give Y/N some time. They’re still a bit rattled over everything,” said the professor, patiently. “Have you gotten your memories back?”

“I think so. I remember most of my life before getting kidnapped. I taught self defense here, right?” Logan muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely sure of himself. When Charles grinned and nodded, Logan spoke again, hesitant. “I remember Y/N. Their face, watching me through the glass. Talking about curing me—helping me. I remember the doctor there trying to kill them once they found out the truth.”

A low growl rumbled within the grizzled man’s chest, and he slumped further against the wall. “What are you going to do with Y/N now?”

“Well, that’s up to them. They are a mutant after all—I offered them a place here. Whether they stay or not is not for me to say.”

This seemed to pique Logan’s interest. “Y/N’s a mutant?”

“Yes,” Charles stated matter-of-factly. “Though, they don’t use their powers because it’s far too dangerous. Which is why I proposed that they stay so we can help. Now, if you excuse me, Logan, I’ve got to grade some papers. Have a good night.”

“Yeah,” replied Logan, distant. He saluted Charles with two fingers as he wheeled away. “G’night.”

The rest of the X-Men warmed up to you rather quickly. Hank would joke around with you while he did your daily check-up, and Jean, Ororo and Anna introduced themselves with sweet smiles and baked goods that they made just for you. They’d stay with you in the infirmary until late at night, playing boisterous rounds of Uno and exchanging stories of their own childhood mishaps with their mutation. Kurt Wagner was a delight to speak to—you quite enjoyed your conversations with the lively teleporter. Scott Summers was a handsome fellow, who had acquired a broken arm from a training accident, which gave him a good excuse to hang around you. Charles often visited you as well, each time asking once again if you were planning on making your residence here permanent. He even offered you a job to teach the kids here some science—which you kindly declined.

The friendly nature of the mansion and the people residing there really made you want to stay.

But you knew you shouldn’t.

Especially not when Logan was so clearly avoiding you—it was a tell-tale sign that you were definitely overstaying your welcome.

You’d only seen him a small handful of times since you arrived. Lingering in the hallways, passing by the door, and once in Charles’ office when you dropped by to ask him a question. He had stalked away with nary a sound, not even bothering to spare you a glance.

So it was quite the surprise when he stepped into the infirmary while you were packing a small duffel bag with travel necessities nearly two weeks later, practically bristling at the thought of you leaving. Leaving when he hadn’t even said a single word to you. His jaw clenched.

“L… Logan?” you asked, nearly dropping the shirt you were holding out of shock. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

He stared at you for a long while, unsure of what to say. The man was on his way to a bar for a beer or two before he caught sight of you practically flying across the room in a rush to pack. He was not prepared for this conversation at all. A part of him wished you could just read his thoughts like Charles could, because his mind was running a mile a minute. There were just too many things he should’ve said, too many things he waited too long to say. And none of it seemed to want to come out.

So he opted to heave out a grand sigh, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms, not once breaking eye contact with you. You had awkwardly resigned to folding the last few pieces of clothing, stuffing them into the bag.

The action prompted Logan to husk out, “You’re leaving.”

It was more of a statement than a question. Your muscles tensed at his voice. He seemed angry—frustrated—and you weren’t entirely sure if it was directed towards you, or himself.

“I have no place here,” you whispered, words nearly lost to the deafening silence.

Logan’s brows furrowed. “This is a school—a home for mutants. You belong here.”

Fixing him with a curious expression, you zipped up your bag, shaking your head. “It’s not fair to you, Logan. I can’t just keep pretending that me being around doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“So you’re leaving because of me.” Logan pushed off the wall, stalking towards you until he stood just in front of you. This close, you could smell the faint cigar smoke on him, accompanied with a fresh pine-like aroma. He smelled like the forest, like sitting in front of a fire place with a mug of coffee cradled in your palms. A lump formed in your throat, grip tightening on the strap of the bag.

“I’m leaving for you,” you corrected. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I did all those awful things to you. I know it doesn’t absolve me of anything but—I really did think I was helping you. Oh… and thank you. For coming back and saving me.”

The hardness to Logan’s features seemed to soften just a bit. He watched you keenly, studying the genuine tenderness to your eyes, the way your lips screwed to the side in a fruitless effort to stave away the tears.

“Hey,” he said, stepping even closer. “I forgive you, bub. I forgive you, alright? Stop beating yourself up. Charles told me you thought you were helping me—and I believe it. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, the man truly responsible is dead, thanks to you. You helped me escape, remember?”

Your eyes flickered from the ground to meet his. “Of course I remember.”

A low rumble resonated from Logan’s chest. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing for damn near killing you. I found you passed out in the snow and I—I was terrified. I carried you, worried to death the entire time, thinkin’ you were going to die on me. But Charles found us—and you lived. We both lived. I want you to stay. Hell, if you want to leave, then go ahead. The door’s wide open. But don’t let it be because of me.”

He watched as your shoulders trembled ever so slightly, then sagged as you loosened your hold on the duffel bag. Relief seeped through his bones. For a moment, he was scared you were really going to leave.

Without another word, Logan nodded, stepping back. He turned to walk out of the infirmary, itching for nice, cold beer. Or two. Probably five. Oh, who was he kidding. He could blaze through twenty bottles and barely feel buzzed.

“Logan,” you called out.

He stopped by the doorway without turning.

“Thank you,” you croaked, wiping away a stray tear. A happy one. Maybe you could even ask if the job Charles had offered you was still on the table.

A minuscule smile played by the corner of his lips. He ducked his head, and strode away.

ONE MONTH LATER.

The snow was thicker than ever before. Nearly everybody was outside, either making rotund little snowmen with carrots for noses or playing a game of dodgeball. You caught sight of Kurt teleporting just above Rogue to dump a large armful of snow atop her head. You huffed out a laugh from behind the window when she started spewing out a long string of curses, cheeks tinted red from the cold.

Movement from your peripheral vision made you turn your head to look out the other window. You were met with the lovely sight of Logan hauling lumber nearly double his size from just over the hill, a layer of snowflakes icing the top of his dark tresses. You shook your head, wondering why he hadn’t asked anyone for help.

Ever the lone wolf, he was.

Commotion from the other window made you turn once more, watching with a snort when the kids began pelting Logan with dozens of snowballs, laughing with unbridled glee. The chuckles died away when the burly man dropped all the wood he was carrying, rolling up his sleeves with a wolfish grin. They screamed, scurrying away whilst hiccuping with laughter.

“Quite chilly outside,” Charles’ voice broke out from beside you. “Come have a hot chocolate with me.”

“If this is your way of bribing me to grade your classes’ papers, I’ll have you know I’m not easily swayed,” you teased, though fell into step beside him as he led you into his office. “I’ve got my own class to attend to.”

Despite only knowing Charles for around a month now, the two of you have grown very fond of each other. He was like a big brother to you—just as the rest of the X-Men had gradually become your family.

The professor scoffed. “That was one time! I just wanted your expertise, was all.” He gestured to the array of mugs on his desk, then to the thermos right beside them. “Please, help yourself. Paper grading wasn’t really what I wanted to discuss with you. I have another proposition to make you.”

You arched a brow while pouring the both of you a generous serving of thick, creamy hot chocolate. “Always with the propositions, Charles,” you said, sipping on your drink with a hum. “What is it?”

“I want you to join our missions.”

The lighthearted nature of your conversation visibly seemed to sour. “What?” you asked, placing your mug down. “Charles, I thought we made this clear—”

“You don’t use your powers, yes. I’m well aware. Let me rephrase. I want to help you… er, reacquaint yourself with your abilities. Just to try it out. And perhaps if all goes smoothly, you’d make a remarkably valuable member on our team. I promise, if we try it out and things go south, I’ll let it go. Never speak a word of it to anybody.” There was an earnest tone to his voice, hopeful and contagiously optimistic.

Your finger traced the rim of the mug, pursing your lips in thought. “Just to try it out?”

He nodded. “Just to try it out. I’m curious for you, Y/N. Haven’t you ever wanted to be able to control your powers?”

“More than anything in the entire world,” you murmured quietly, voice cracking.

It took me a while to control my powers, too, Charles said, but his lips weren’t moving. It took you a moment to realize that he was speaking to you telepathically. The key is patience. And I do believe with enough time, you can gain control of yours as well. Imagine how many children who are struggling with their own mutations you’d be able to help if you had a grasp of your powers.

“You’re one hell of a motivational speaker,” you snarked after a moment to mull over his offer, despite the smile fiddling at the corner of your lips. “Alright, Charles. You convinced me. When do we start?”

The large, antique grandfather clock in your office merrily trilled thrice just as the hands turned to three in the afternoon. You glanced away from the homework papers you were grading, before filing them away for you to finish off later. You were in need of a long overdue break. Rising from your chair, you groaned softly as your bones popped with the stretch, rolling your shoulders to ease the mild tension.

Training all night with Charles yesterday certainly took both a physical and mental toll on you.

You needed to get out of your office for a bit—take a walk to clear your head. As you donned your coat and a dark yellow beanie to tuck just over the top of your ears because they grew particularly cold in the harsh winters, you strode out the doors.

Before you could make your way to the snowy outdoors, you passed by one of the training rooms, where you heard a familiar gruff voice.

Logan was teaching a group of about a dozen kids—self-defense class, if you could recall. He was moving his arms about animatedly, demonstrating with a dummy that seemed to be a brush away from falling apart. The kids were watching with rapt fascination, gasping in unison when Logan speared the poor thing straight through the abdomen.

A small grin splayed over your features as you leaned against the doorway.

A young boy raised his hand, asking, “When are we gonna be able to practice?”

Logan sheathed his claws and crossed his arms. “I’ll let you practice with your own dummies next week. But for now you just watch and learn—Y/N? What’re you doin’ here?”

Blinking at suddenly being shoved into the spotlight, you sheepishly stepped forward and waved to the kids. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss is about with Mr. Howlett’s famous self-defense class. Heard it’s the students’ second favorite class.”

“Oh, yeah?” Logan chuckled, arching an eyebrow to the rest of the class. “And what would be their favorite, then?”

You grinned. “Mine, of course.” The kids groaned in protest, though laughing at your blatant sarcasm. You waved them away with a roll of your eyes. “Oh, hush. You guys love science.”

Snorting, Logan propped his fists onto his hips and directed a roguish grin towards you. “It’s not a competition—even though they obviously like me better.” He turned back to the dummy with a nod. “Anyways, where was I—er, yes, Rogue?”

The student’s arm was stuck up in the air, an excited grin painted over her lips. “Why don’t you and Professor L/N try dueling each other? I’m sure it’d teach us a lot more than that dummy,” Rogue drawled in her thick Southern accent. The rest of the students murmured their agreement, bobbing their heads to the idea. Besides, they were all curious about your infamous mutation—they’d never seen you in action before.

Immediately, your stomach dropped and you were quick to shake your head just enough for Logan to see. His features seemed to soften with understanding.

“That’s enough, settle down,” Logan gruffed. “Professor L/N came here to watch, it would be unfair to spring an entire demonstration on them without any warning. The dummy’ll do just fine. Look, it’s in tip-top shape!” His burly fist wrapped around the dummy’s throat.

And the head popped right off.

Logan blinked, stunned. The class burst into laughter. You joined them, hiding a smile behind your palm. Logan watched you keenly, before a crooked smile broke through his rough features, chuckling lowly under his breath.

“I’m sorry about them,” he said, making his way to you once he had dismissed all his pupils (though not before assigning them a butt-load of homework that made all of them groan exasperatedly). “I know you weren’t expecting that.”

Waving his words away, you were quick to shake your head. “No, no, it’s alright. I’m just… not entirely comfortable with using my powers yet. Charles and I are still working through it—I’m not really at the stage of combating an experienced mutant as yourself. Anyways, I don’t want to keep you. I’m sure you’ve got a ton of school-related errands to run.”

You crossed your arms with a hesitant quirk of your lips to assure him that you were okay, watching him keenly as he tried to mirror your expression. It came out more as an awkward stretch of his mouth, so he dropped it soon after.

Logan sucked on the rooftop of his mouth, before stoutly nodding, and turned around to walk away. You’d mentioned he probably had school-related errands to run. Hah. As if Logan ever worked outside of the classes he taught. All he had in mind was to head over to a bar and drink as many beers as the barkeeper would allow him.

By the time he reached the doorway, Logan abruptly stopped in his tracks. He could feel your eyes watching him go, practically searing the skin on the back of his neck.

“God damn it,” he whispered quietly beneath his breath. He couldn’t just leave you alone. Not when his class thrust you into the spotlight like that. Definitely not because he felt an irrepressible urge to spend more time with you. And especially not because he thought that little grin of yours was so darned cute. Of course not.

He turned back to you with a set expression, jaw clenched tight. If you didn’t know any better, he appeared to be angry. Or constipated. One of the two.

Either way, you were surprised to hear him addressing you by the doorway, in a brusque tone.

“The school day’s over. I’m heading out to grab a drink. You wanna come with?”

It took you a moment to respond, a little too frazzled to formulate a coherent thought.

“Yeah,” you finally answered, slightly breathless. Logan pointedly looked away when you beamed at him. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

His thigh was pressed up against yours. You could feel the heat radiating off of him through his jeans. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which leaned against the bar’s countertop, palms cradled around his tenth (or was it his eleventh?) frosty mug of beer.

You were slowly nursing your fifth drink, snorting into the rim when Logan made an off-hand comment about how stupid Scott looked on one of their most recent missions.

“I take it you don’t like him?”

“Who?” Logan asked, turning his head so he could look at you. Beneath the dim amber-glow of the bar’s lighting, your skin appeared flushed, eyes just a tad brighter. You were too damned close to him.

Nose wrinkling, you nudged his shoulder with yours. “Scott, dummy.”

His eyebrow rose. “Why, do you want me to like him? Do you like him?”

The questions made you splutter beer all over the counter as you choke-laughed, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. “You’re not answering my question, Lo.” You began giggling again, before downing the rest of your mug, swaying slightly on the leather stool. Logan had half a mind to clamp his palm over your thigh to keep you from tipping over.

“I like Scott, yeah. He’s nice. I know he has a thing for Jean though—I’ve been trying to convince him to ask her out but Scott keeps saying it isn’t the right time. Jean likes him all the same, too. They’re just really stupid.” A fond smile grew on your lips and you began laughing once more.

Logan watched you in amusement, just before ordering another beer for himself. You were a giggly drunk, Logan realized, as you buried your face into your hands as uncontrollable laughter shook through you.

“Alright, that’s enough drinks for you. What’s got you crackin’ up, bub?” Logan sighed in part-exasperation and part-mirth when you leaned back so far your stool began to capsize. He was quick to shoot his arm out and yank you back forward. This only made you laugh harder, for reasons unbeknownst to him.

“I just—” You had to pause to heave a breath through your cackling. “Your hair just looks so funny—why does it stand up like that?”

God, you were so drunk. Your hand reached out to pat down the tufts of hair sticking upwards, but missed the mark and instead brushed over his jaw, slightly prickly with day-old stubble.

Logan watched you carefully as your laughter died away, a strange look shadowing your once gleeful one. His eyes flickered down to your lips, which were parted ever so slightly in thought. “You look much younger than you used to—back in that tank.”

Gently, he captured your wrist and stroked his thumb over your palm once, before setting it back down by your side. “Let’s go home. You’re drunk.”

“Yes, sir. ” You mock-saluted as he helped you off the stool and offered his arm when you nearly toppled over your own feet.

You swayed to and fro when walking back to the mansion, hiccupping between every giggle as you told Logan about this one time Kurt teleported into the kitchen and scared you so badly you hit him with a frying pan. Logan let himself laugh at that one.

By the time the two of you reached your room, a good night was right on the tip of his tongue before it was yanked away from him when you grabbed him by the shirt collar and tugged him towards you in a drunken fashion, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system. A startled noise fell from his lungs, and the corner of your eyes wrinkled as you smiled. You swiftly planted a soft kiss to his cheek, nose slotted right against his cheekbone. He was frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react.

“You’re a sweetheart. Good night, Lo,” you murmured into his skin with a lopsided smile.

You were drunk. So very drunk.

Logan had to remind himself of this when you pulled away. You wouldn’t have done that if you were sober.

The door groaned as you pushed it open, moonlight spilling over your features. You promptly slammed the door in his face, and he heard you giggling behind it just a second after.

He wasn’t able to snap out of his reverie until an entire minute later.

“G’night, bub,” he mumbled, knowing full and well that you were probably passed out on top of your bed by now. No doubt you’d have a raging hangover tomorrow. He shook his head, before heading off to his own room, a warm sensation clawing at his chest.

The familiar voice of a certain professor rang out across the kitchen, and you groaned at the sudden noise. The hangover headache pulsating through your skull wasn’t nearly as bad as it was when you had initially woken up, but it was still there. And Charles most certainly wasn’t helping.

“Morning,” he exclaimed with a knowing smile, eyeing you with a look you misliked. You grumbled under your breath, before shoveling a spoonful of scrambled eggs into your mouth so you didn’t have to respond to him. Charles didn’t seem to mind, continuing his amiable chatter. “I noticed you weren’t in last night.”

Humming in confirmation, you lifted your mug to guzzle down more apple juice.

“Funny coincidence,” Charles quipped, wheeling up right beside you. Without even looking at him, you just knew that his eyebrows were raised suggestively. “Logan was also nowhere in the mansion yesterday.”

You scowled, then set the mug down. “We just had a couple drinks together.”

“Mmh, right.” Charles narrowed his eyes, clearly in disbelief. “Well, nice to see that the two of you have… warmed up to each other. I’ve got to head back now but don’t forget about our session at three—just because you’re hungover doesn’t mean you can skip out on me.”

A discontent noise erupted from your lungs and you stuck your tongue out at his back when he turned away.

“I saw that,” said Charles, amusement lacing his tone. “Well, I didn’t actually see it. I know you did it, though.”

And with that, he left.

You groaned, before lowering your head to rest against the cool kitchen countertop.

A moment later, a voice disrupted the rare-found quiet. Logan.

“You alright, bub?”

When you lifted your face up, you blinked away the colorful blurs spotting your vision, Logan coming into view. He was wearing a simple white tank top tucked into a pair of faded jeans, hands shoved into his pockets. You eyed his biceps warily, which glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. You swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat.

“I’m good. What’re you up to?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Logan replied sheepishly. “Was in the training room all night.”

He leaned against the doorway, a mild smile itching at his lips upon observing your disheveled state. Your hair was mussed, wearing a simple wrinkly white shirt and a pair of grey shorts. The expression on your face told him that you were still working off the hangover.

“Wanna talk about it?” you asked, patting the seat beside you.

Logan pursed his lips, before moving towards you. “Yeah,” he said, swinging his leg over the chair. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The cold of the porcelain sent a shiver up your spine as you slumped against the toilet seat, grumbling under your breath. Logan watched you keenly as he dampened a towel, bunching it up in his hand, kneeling down in front of you.

Your first mission as an X-Man was nothing short of disastrous.

You’d warned Charles—told him you weren’t ready to use your powers in an uncontrolled setting—but he’d assured you that you’d be fine. Besides, the rest of your teammates were there for you.

Except the Brotherhood had taken down everybody else and you were the last person standing—and you lost control of your powers. Again.

It wasn’t until Logan stumbled towards you, pushing through the tornado of glass shards whirling around your hyperventilating form, barely even noticing the cuts appearing over his skin. His healing factor was quick to weave together the broken skin—all that mattered was getting to you. Your explosive powers were enough to severely alarm the Brotherhood, and they thankfully retreated soon after your outburst, though he doubted they’d stay away for too long.

Logan had grabbed you, pulling you close until your face was flush against his chest, cradling you atop the cold, hardened dirt, mumbling sweet nothings that you couldn’t really make out into your hair. When the air stilled, you pulled your face away, tear-stricken and bloodied.

The incident was far too similar to the first time you used your powers—when your best friend’s life was taken as a consequence.

A single, searing tear meandered down your face at the memory, and you bit down on your lip to quell the sob rising in your throat.

“Hey, bub.” Logan took your chin between his fingers, grounding you back to reality. It was just him and you—in a small bathroom. He was close, so close that you could see the buzzing lights reflected in the burnt umber of his irises, or how he had a small, faded birthmark just beside his left eye. He tilted your head up so you’d meet his concerned gaze. “It’s okay. You did good. You drove ‘em away. We would’ve all been in hot shit if it weren’t for you. Storm was knocked unconscious, Kitty and Rogue had their powers stripped away, Scott was no match against Quicksilver, and the rest of us were this close to being ripped apart. You did good.”

Your stomach lurched uneasily. “Feels more like I fucked everything up. I told Charles I wasn’t ready.”

Instead of a reply, Logan merely sighed, shaking his head. Softly he swiped the damp towel across the bloody gashes on your face, his fingers on your chin moving to cup your other cheek. His palm was cold against the flushed heat of your face.

“I hate seeing you like this,” he whispered, the usual gruff tone of his voice nowhere to be found. “Wish you had the healing factor instead of me.”

“Nah,” you replied softly, wincing as you leaned forward, closer to him. The large slash over your abdomen from a broken metal pipe Magneto sent hurtling your way burned with every shift of your body. “You’d be dead a thousand times over if it weren’t for your healing factor. And I’m really glad you’re not dead.”

The towel on your cheekbone paused for a second. Logan scrutinized you for a moment, before returning to the task at hand. “Yeah, I guess I’m glad, too.”

A comfortable silence thickened between the two of you, only interrupted by your quiet groans of pain, which were always followed up by Logan’s sheepish apology.

“I still haven’t graded the kids’ homework papers—they’re expecting it back on Monday,” you gritted out, hand shooting forward to grip Logan’s shoulder, nails digging into his collarbone when he moved down to clean up the shallow wound across your torso.

He quirked an eyebrow towards you in amusement. “You’re crazy, you know that? Almost died today and all you’re thinkin’ about is grading papers. Pfft.”

“That’s not all I’m thinking about,” you weakly protested, smacking his hand away when he playfully pinched your thigh.

After wiping away all the crusted blood and dirt on your brand new X-Men suit, he was satisfied to see that your gash wasn’t deep enough to need stitches. He hauled himself onto the edge of the bathtub so he was sitting right across from you. “Yeah? What else are you thinking about?”

“You.” The single word came out as nothing but a low mutter.

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or worried,” he replied with a roguish grin, pupils darting between your eyes and your raw-bitten lips.

You huffed out a laugh. “Maybe both.” His forehead leaned against yours as you breathed him in, relishing in his calming presence. “I really like you, Lo.”

Those five words were what spurred him to push forward, slanting his lips onto yours, stealing your breath away. You made a small noise of surprise, before practically melting into him, looping your sore arms over his neck and tugging him all the closer. He kissed you slowly, careful about where to place his hands, because your body was littered with fresh scars. He settled on just above your waist, smoothing his thumbs out over the back of your ribs, as if to constantly reassure himself that you were here. You were okay.

His nose bumped into yours, and it hurt to smile—oh, it practically burned with each kiss—but you smiled into him anyway. Because for Logan, it was worth the pain.

“Ow,” you lightly complained when he accidentally knocked his knee against your busted one. “Watch it, old man.”

A growl caught in his throat. “You know, I was gonna say I really liked you, too, but I don’t think that applies anymore.”

You burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at your stomach a second later, moaning out with pain. “Don’t make me laugh! You ass!”

He could only smile at that, roping you towards him once more with his fingers anchored over your jaw. This time, the kiss was hot and heavy, more confident. Your hands ran through his hair, gently tugging at his roots, which made pleasant shivers spider down his spine. It was needy with want, his kisses wandering from your lips to the apples of your cheeks, to your trembling throat.

The hand on your back was only starting to traverse downwards when the door flung open, revealing a smug Rogue and an awfully mortified Kurt just behind her.

“I knew it! I knew y’all were a thing!” Rogue called out, clapping her hands excitedly. “Scott totally owes me twenny bucks!”

She scuttled away gleefully, leaving the blue elf staring at the two of you with wide, amber eyes, completely still.

“You can close the door, Kurt,” you hesitantly told him, before Logan could snarl out something unsavory. You were uncomfortably perched halfway between the toilet seat and Logan’s lap, with his hand flush over your ass.

“Er… right… I’ll just use the bathroom upstairs,” he breathily stumbled, before teleporting away in a hazy cloud of sulphuric fumes.

“Damn elf didn’t close the door. Of fuckin’ course.” Logan groaned, pulling himself away from you with a scowl. “You alright, darlin’?”

An embarrassed grin replaced the initial shock of being found. “Yeah, I think so. You?”

“Worst night of my life. The entire school’s gonna know by tomorrow,” Wolverine grumbled, before fondly glancing towards you. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, though.”

You hobbled up with his support, pressing a sweet, chaste kiss to his cheek. “You think the entire team bet money on us?”

“Oh, yeah,” Logan chortled as he helped you out of the communal bathroom, heading upstairs to your bedroom. “Charlie bet a hundred bucks on us. I heard him talking to Storm about it.”

You side-eyed him with amusement. “So did he win?”

“Nope,” Logan said, popping the ‘p’, looking far too smug to be ripping away a hundred dollars from his old friend. “Thought neither of us would have the balls to confess until next month.”

“You’re sick,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “Did you kiss me just to spite him?”

“I kissed you because I wanted to,” countered Logan, shoving the door to your room open with his shoulder. “Professor losing a hundred bucks was just the cherry on top, you know?”

You sank onto your bed, dragging Logan with you, barely giving him enough time to slam the door shut. “Yeah,” you mumbled, pulling him into yet another kiss. “You’re awful, Lo.”

“Love you, too.”

Placing your hand on his chest, you pulled away hesitantly, unsure if you heard him right. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled, all warm and genuine. “Yeah.”

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honey-on-mars · 11 months

Text

Jellybean? really? come on.

Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

genre: fluff

Summary: pregnant reader doesn’t know how to tell Logan that she’s Pregnant, but the beans spill at Erik and Raven’s wedding.

I’ve been off all day, I can’t seem to find a time or a way to tell Logan the news, and it’s killing me but I’m nervous he’ll react badly. Logan and I are currently at Erik and Raven’s wedding, which they decided to at the school that my brother, Charles, opened to help mutants learn to control their powers and live in a society with humans. We’re currently eating the we got from the buffet and it’s delicious. I slide my hands down my dress brushing off any crumbs of food. As I stood up, I decided to slip out onto the deck to get some fresh air, once my foot touched the ground outside, and the cool air hit my skin, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My hair immediately blew into my face, causing me to swipe my hair to the side. It’s not until a few moments later that I notice Logan standing by the door watching me. His deep voice calms me as he moves his hands to rest around my waist, hugging me from behind, "Hey bub, is everything alright? You’ve barely spoken a word all night? Normally you love talking and seeing everyone" the hot air from his mouth brushing against my neck. I relax my body against his my head nuzzling into his shoulder, I give him a simple response, "Yeah everything's fine, just been tired lately, came out for some air".

I feel him raise his brows into my neck, even though I wasn’t looking at him I could clearly the look on his face in my head. He knew I was lying to him, that there was something wrong. I sighed and just stared at the ground for a moment before he said, "Y/n, I'm not a telepath like your brother. I’m not able to read your mind when you’re upset and I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now, so please just tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. please. just so I can help ease your worries" Others might not have been able to tell if they heard him but I knew he was sincerely begging me to tell him. I sigh before turning my body to face him, his arms still wrapped around me. He lifted his head from my shoulder and leaned into my forehead instead, "Logan…I love you, so much. which is why I need for you to listen carefully and not freak out with what I’m about to tell you." I sigh, taking a deep breath, my eyes shut, and my head tilts downward slightly. Logan grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger lifting my head to face him again.“Love, please tell me… you’re making me nervous” I open my eyes again staring into his that are filled with love and worry for me, and that’s when I know I was worried for nothing. “Logan, my love…I’m pregnant.” his eyes widened, and for a split second, worry and fear overcame me again. But soon I’m being lifted into the air, with Logan peppering kisses onto my face repeatedly telling me I love you, and for just a split second I’m fairly certain he’s forgotten how to breathe. Then he finally sets me down and asks “I’m gonna be a father...like for real? seriously? This isn’t some cruel joke?”He takes my hands in his own and I rub my thumb against the back of his hand reassuring him. "It's not a joke. You know I'd never mess with you like that." Then suddenly I’m up in the air all over again, except this time he’s spinning me in circles laughing, my hands cup his face and I’m leaning my forehead into his. As he gently sets me back down I kiss his lips softly and say “I love you too, and I’m sure our little jellybean will love you just as much” Then his eyebrow arches in that way same way it always does, “Jeallybean? really? come on.” I look back at him, “Are you gonna be carrying a baby for nine months or am I? Answer carefully Mr. Howlett” he easily relents “you. you are. you’re going to be carrying my baby in that wonderful body of yours, Mrs. Howlett” I smiled, leaning up on my toes, and wrapping my arms around his neck. "We're gonna have a baby," I say, the giddy in my voice clearly evident. He rests his forehead against mine grinning down at me,”yes, yes we are, my love.” and I know all my fear and worry was for naught.

#xmen #logan howlett #x reader #fem!reader #logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #xmen x you #logan howlett x you #xmen fanfiction #Logan howler fanfics #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x y/n #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfic

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takenbypeter · 1 year

Note

Hello it’s me again! Peter Maximoff x non-mutant reader. Peter is super excited about something and he’s running around the room like a ball in a pinball machine. The reader is trying to grab him so he can explain what it is. When they finally do catch him, Peter hugs them back EXTREMELY tight, trying to “stay still” (boy is probably vibrating). The rest is whatever you come up with. :)

His Excitement Running Strong

Peter Maximoff x reader

Words: 729

Authors note: well hello again so lovely to see you again and thank you for the request as always, it is always welcome.

“Peter!” You shouted, poking your head down to peek into his basement before your legs followed. He called you on the phone excitedly, very excitedly, mentioning to come over, because he had big news.

The last time he had “big news” it was nothing more than his favorite game having a new edition. That got him excited but nothing like this. When you called for him down the stairs all you heard was, “you’re here!” Before a gust of wind started traveling around the room.

“Woah,” you exclaimed, breeze immediately passing by you. Peter’s all over the place, practically bouncing off every corner and you can’t even keep up. You try to grab him but of course you’re basically miles off because he’s already moved on by then.

It was at that moment that you wondered if having powers yourself would make this a whole lot easier. Although you didn’t have any powers and couldn’t really catch him, there was still something you could try.

Collecting some nearby shoes and basically whatever you could find, you made a little barrier on the ground. The pla was simple, you were going to make him trip. It was a long shot and no doubt he could just avoid the obstruction but hopefully he’d be too distracted by his big news that he’d just fall right into your trap.

And to your genuine surprise, it worked…maybe a little too well. You watch in shock as he hits the ground harder than you expected.

“Peter!”

Dropping onto your knees you turn him over onto his back, “are you okay?” His expression still remained quite happy as he sprung up into a seated position, but before he could make any movement, you wrapped your arms around him, tight. You figured this way if he goes haywire you’ll just go with him.

“Wow, you’re practically vibrating,” you mutter while he imitates your earlier movement, wrapping you into a tighter hug, “don’t let go. If you let go I might not be able to stop.”

“Okay I won’t let go, but what’s got you so excited?” You ask peering up at him. His grin widens revealing most of his teeth and you smile back still confused due to lack of any more information. But luckily you don’t have it wait much longer to get it.

“Charles said you can come see the mansion.”

Your smile dropped, not quite expecting that. “I can come to the mansion?” You repeated, processing his words.

“Yeah, I asked Charles and he was iffy at first but he came up to me later and told me it was alright.”

Your arms loosen around him but he still holds onto you tight, “isn’t that kind of serious? I mean I’m not a mutant or anything.”

“It’s rare, but few non-mutants have seen the place,” his previous expression falls slightly into a forced one as he picks up the expression of concern written on your face, “aren’t you excited?”

Your eyes met his, noticing that your own mood was causing his to falter, “no I am! I mean this is awesome! I’ll get to see a new part of you, the teacher part,” you added rainsing your eyebrows and leaning into him a little, before leaning back again.

“I just…feel a little nervous that’s all. I’ll be the only one there without powers or anything…cool. Won’t it be…awkward?”

“Maybe.” Peter leans back a little to get a better view of you, while you look up, “but I’ll be right there with you, giving you the whole tour, I’ll never leave your side. It’ll be great, I absolutely promise you.” He gave you another squeeze, “I’m so excited for you to see everything.”

You couldn’t fight off the happiness that was spreading off from him again and honestly you were surprised by how enthusiastic he was about the situation especially considering how nonchalant he always acts about the whole being a part of the x-men thing.

But still, his words did reassure you that everything would be fine, and like you said it was a whole new part of him that you’ve never seen before. “I can't wait Peter.”

Sure it may be awkward and you were still anxious, but it was still exciting having him be able to share this part of his life with you and you couldn’t wait to see it.

#peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff fanfic #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver fanfic #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver imagine #quicksilver fanfiction #x men x reader #xmen fanfic #xmen x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #request #requests

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lemonnsss · 7 months

Text

Moral of the Story pt.1

Warnings: cheating, illusions to sex, angst, not BETA'D we die like men.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

Taglist: @vicmc624, @mostlymarvelgirl, @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy, @moonlightreader649, @whattheduckisupkyle, @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan, @mrsbarnes32557038, @imyourbratzdoll

Word count: 1k

I was sitting around the bonfire with the other faculty at Xavier’s after all the students had gone to bed: talking shit, spilling fresh gossip, and discussing all the latest trends. Next to me was my best friend, Ororo when she said, “You do know Logan’s cheating on you, right?”

“Please, Storm. We’ve been over this. There’s no way he does that, it just isn’t like him.”

“Please,” she begged, “everyone else on campus knows, we see the subtle glances, we hear the quiet ‘I Love You’s, we smell his cologne on her so why can’t you see it?”

She and I had had a big fight about this earlier, to her it was as obvious as the sun. I was holding on to something that wasn’t there, a distant memory long forgotten by him

I didn’t believe what they said- moreover, I couldn’t believe- Logan was the first thing in my life that I knew Jean couldn’t cheat me out of or beat me at. Walking down the hall in the teachers’ wing I heard moaning and grunting coming from Jean and Scott’s room, two definite voices.

I had seen Scott less than five minutes ago when I left the bonfire, and that’s when it dawned on me. I crept over to their door, wanting to catch this mysterious offender who Jean was cheating with, a soft gasp escaped my lips when I peered through the crack.

There on the bed lay the Jean Gray who had bested me at everything in life legs wide open with her brassiere unclasped at the front with a barely concealed Logan between her thighs.

Tears welled in my eyes as I took a step back, unsure of what I was supposed to do. I mean, no one tells you what to do if you see your boyfriend of three years fucking another woman.

Walking into our shared room I started packing away my things, everything that was valuable enough to bring with me. I knew I had to come back for the rest but I couldn’t think about that now, I just wanted out.

After I fill my duffle bags and suitcases, I go to make my way out of the door when Logan walks in, looking like he had just gotten out of the shower.

“Honey, whatcha doing? Thought you wanted to stay out at the bonfire a little longer.”

“Cut the shit, Lo. I know everything.” I move towards the door, and he grabs my arm.

“Sugar, I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that.” He says while slightly pushing my baggage down.

“I saw you,” I let out a shaky breath, “ I saw you with Jean just then. I trusted you! Even when everyone told me you were cheating I trusted you! Why would you do this to me, Logan?”

He stood there. Silent, still. As if processing what I had just said. Not moving even an inch.

A few minutes must have passed before he moved to bring his hand to my cheek before I shied away. “Sweetie, baby, please,” he begged, a thing I seldom saw from him, ”I swear, that was the only time.”

“Really? Because the rest of the faculty, save Scott and Professor Xavier, has been telling me all this for months!” I didn’t care if I woke the entire school, I had been wronged and cheated by the one person I trusted with my deepest fears and my insecurities. The man I had wanted to spend the rest of my life mere hours earlier betrayed me in a way no one should have to experience, and I would let him fucking know.

After hours of yelling at Logan, my voice was hoarse and raw as tears streamed down my face, people began to run over to the faculty wing to find out what the commotion was all about, hearing the scandalous but anticipated news and spreading it down the chain. Until everyone from the bonfire called it a night only to find they couldn’t even get to their rooms with the amount of people crowded around.

Scott shoved his way through to the front as I yelled, hearing me say his partner's name in the context of cheating, he looked at her, across the hall from where Logan and I stood, hope draining from his eyes and he understood that she had chosen Logan while trying to keep him along.

“I’m sorry, you had to find out this way, Scott,” I say, apologizing to Jean once again.

He turns around and the crowd separates like the Red Sea for him, now with Jean following, apologizing, begging for him to forget about this, how it didn’t mean anything to her, to turn over a new leaf; to wipe the slate clean. He doesn’t face her, not while I can see.

I pick up my bags again just for Logan to reach out once again, “Please?”

He sits there silently begging. I pull away, watching the hope in his eyes crumble.

“We both know it’s too late for that, Lo.”

The crowd separates once more as I make my way down the stairs, out the front door, and to the garage where my 65’ Thunderbird sits. Popping the trunk, I picked up my suitcase when I saw a silver streak of light pass by.

“You’re gonna leave, just like that?” Peter says, leaning back on the driver’s door.

“What else should I do? It’s not like I want to see them after this.” I load my smaller bags in and shut the trunk before moving to the door.

“That’s fair.” Peter says, backing away, ”But is there nothing else keeping you here?”

A soft gaze met mine, practically begging me to stay.

“Pete, I don’t need another reminder that I’m nothing but sub-par in comparison to the great Jean Gray. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. I’ve been compared to her my entire life, it’s time I meet someone who sees me for me.”

And with the nod of his head, I drove out of Xavier’s School of Gifted Children for the last time.

#fanfic #mcu fanfiction #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #marvel mcu #logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #xmen #logan howlett #xmen fanfiction

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lauriegraham01 · 8 months

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forever & always | erik lehnsherr

pairings: erik x reader, (cherik x reader if you squint)

summary: it's been years since erik abandoned you on the sands on cuba. when fate - or rather a friend from the future, logan - steps in and forces your paths to cross, what feelings will ensue?

w/c: 2,272

a/n: follows the events shown in days of future past, inspiration drawn from "forever & always" by taylor swift. been working on this one for the past week, apologies for the delay, life can be cruel but the storm only lasts one night.

The brightness of the sun was blinding as its rays bleed through the curtains of your room, shining in your eyes prompting you to wake up with a groan. Reaching out for Charles youre disappointed as you feel nothing but the cold sheets where his side of the bed laid empty. A headache settles in within your head, throbbing unforgivably. As you look over to your nightstand you read your clock.

2:47 p.m. Another day wasted away in bed.

You had gotten little sleep the night before. Scenes of sand plaguing you in your dreams echoing the trauma from all that you've lost.

You're on a beach in a Cuba. You don't know yet that it's the end of the world- the end of your world. Black spots cloud your vision. You're losing too much blood. Footsteps staggered as your breathing comes out labored- trying to make sense of what happened.

Erik.

Charles and you had been caught in the crossfire of his war against humans and now you both were paying the price for it.

"Erik?!" Your voice rings clear in his head. He exhales a shaky breath, one that he can't seem to breathe out enough. Charles laid in his arms paralyzed and betrayed. His heart broken at the pain he's caused and remorse washes over him as he sees the man in his grasp slips further away into a world of unfathomable pain. Leaving Charles within Moira's grasp he then makes his way to you. Discarding his metal helmet in the process.

"Y/N." Erik cautiously places his hands at your side. Taking in how much blood seeped through your suit.

“Erik what’s happened to Charles? Is he alright?" With eyes widened, you wait for him to bring some clarity to the chaos that happening.

“Y/N stop. You’re losing too much blood," Erik said carefully. Looking down he sees your hand pressed to your side. Carefully lifting it, he lets out a sharp gasp as he sees the tear in your suit where the bullet pierced your skin.

A choked cough escapes your lip as a bit of blood rushes through the side of your mouth. You feel your knees buckle underneath you and Erik catches you in time, placing you in his arms as you both sink to the sand.

“Erik?” Your voice rings within his head, even telepathically your voice sounds strained, hurt. “Did you do this?”

"I’m sorry, my love,'" it comes out a whisper. Even without your powers you knew exactly where his mind was at. By the solemn expression on his face and the distant look in his eyes you knew that he was leaving.

"Erik, please," you plead.

"I can't stay here. Look at all that I've caused."

"Erik, don't do this. Stay."

"I cant." He says through gritted teeth, the pain sharp on his tongue like a blade.

"You can. You have a family here, you have people who care and love you- I love you Erik."

His face was taut, twisted in a sea of emotions as he thought of the path that he was walking down- and the love that he would lose in the process.

"This is a war that I have to fight alone. I have to go down a road that you can't follow me on."

"Erik, please." You place a hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. Burning the feel of your touch for what he believes would be the last time.

"I'm sorry my love."

He takes your hand and places a kiss onto it before walking away, fading into view with your heart breaking with every step he takes.

"Charles?" You call to him like a ship lost at sea.

"I'm right here. I'm right here darling." His voice rings out softly in your head. By the labors of his breath you know that he's fighting through his pain. You shiver as you feel a coldness drape over you, slumping further into the sand as exhaustion wins its fight over you.

“I’m scared.”

"Stay with me. We'll make it through this together." Charles voice fades out as your vision fades to black.

It truly was a miracle that you even pulled through at all. Hank managing to save you within an inch of your life. An unpleasant feeling sits deep in your stomach as you try to shake off the scenes replaying in your head. Before the guilt of wasting the day away consumes you, you rise up out of bed and make way for the kitchen. The halls were quiet now, faded were the days where students once roamed freely. When the war in Vietnam began, students and teachers alike were being drafted and many never returned home. Wallowing in his grief, Charles closed the doors to the school.

So you and Hank stayed behind in the mansion. Hank tinkered away on his own plans and research and you remained by Charles side as you both tried to process and move through each others grief. When Hank created a serum that gave Charles the ability to use his legs again you had thought things would get better, but time would reveal how wrong you were. Things ultimately took a turn for the worst, as Charles became dependent on the serum and became an alcoholic, he had turned into a version of himself that you never thought possible. He was short-tempered and full of rage at any given moment. Hank got the worst of it, and at times you thought about leaving but you knew that you wouldn't- Charles knew that you couldn't.

Yet, it would be wrong to put the entire blame on Charles for the way things were. The truth was that you too had turned to your vices to quiet the voices within your own head. Falling in love with little thin white lines and drowning yourself in the bottom of bottles, you too had spiraled into your own world of self-destruction just as Charles had. Your relationship hadn't necessarily been the most stable it's been either. It seemed that you and Charles were constantly at each's others throat nowadays but it wasn't always bad days. Despite the screaming matches, both of us turning to our vices, there was still something tethering us together-whether it be love or a trauma bond was becoming unclear as time passed.

As you enter the kitchen, you note the bottles and needles still littering the kitchen table. Charles must've been up all night-again. Fancying a tea you turn the stove on as you fill a kettle with water. you feel the house rumble just a bit. Looking towards the ceiling you can make out heavy footsteps as though someone were being chased. Just then a yell can be heard following a hard crash. Following the source of the disturbance, you enter the foyer where Charles, Hank, or rather Beast, and a strange man come into view.

"Charles? What's going on here?" Making your way across to the staircase where Charles sat on.

"Nothing darling this gentlemen was just leaving," with a scotch in hand he waves to the strange man.

"Afraid I can't do that because I was sent here for you." Taking a closer look at him you note that he's rather tall. He carries himself confidently, head held high in his brown leather jacket.

"Well tell whoever it was that sent you that I'm...busy," Charles trails off.

"That's gonna be a little tricky because the person who sent me here...was you."

"What?" Charles and I let out simultaneously.

"About fifty years form now. Look I kno-I know, stay with me," he pleads with us.

"Excuse me?" Crossing your hands over your chest you look over to Charles and you both share a puzzling look before facing the stranger in front of you again.

"Fifty years from now like in the future fifty years from now ?" Charles quips.

"Yeah."

"I sent you from the future," Charles asks amused.

"Yes, Charles," he says with a roll of his eyes, growing aggravated by our refusal to believe him.

"Piss off," Charles spits bitterly.

"Charles..." you place a hand on his shoulder.

"If you had your powers you'd know I was telling the truth."

With that you use your powers to enter his mind, not expecting what was awaiting you. Hazed memories of the man you now know is Logan, consumed your senses as you traveled within his world of memories. Fear melted on your tongue as you saw the horrors of the reality that the future held, pain and genocides lurking within every corner and within the midst of it-hope. Hope that the future could be rewritten. Voices and faces so familiar yet so unknown, as though you've known them, a version of them.

Leaving his mind, you stumble as you adapt back to this reality, piecing together the meaning behind Logan's memories. Charles immediately stands up to catch you before you fall.

"y/n?" Charles calls, voice shaky as he holds you. Your breath comes out shaky as you cling to him for support. "Charles he's not CIA." Looking up at Logan he meets your gaze with understanding eyes, grateful that now someone believes him.

"y/n-" Hank calls out doubtfully.

"Hank, I know what I saw," you affirm sternly.

"Are you alright? What are you talking about?" Charles desperately searches your eyes for some kind of clarity.

"I'm fine, Charles. He's not CIA or FBI. I got in his head and I-", the words seem to die on your tongue. How do you explain what you saw without seeming mental? "I saw you...but older. From the future."

You swallow the lump within your throat. Charles furrows his eyes in confusion, not knowing what to make of your revelation.

"Erik too. I saw all of us, together preparing for what I fear may be our doom."

From then you managed to convince Charles and Hank that Logan was indeed telling the truth and that he needed our help in ensuring the survival of mutants. The four of you ventured on the plan that Charles, from the future, had set out. Which led you to where you were right now, on a plane seated next to Charles with Erik in front of you. Breaking him out of the Pentagon had been no easy task, but with the help of a new speedster friend, the lot of you succeeded with somewhat minimal damage in the process.

"y/n I-"

"Shut up," you cut Erik off.

He puffs out a defeated sigh as he looks up at you with those pleading eyes of his. You had imagined what it would be like to see Erik again. You spent the best of years waiting for him to come back, to fix what he had broken. You knew you should've given up when news got out of his attempted assassination of the president, but it was moot. A part of you still loved Erik, a part of you still saw the good in him.

"Look I want to apologize for what I did."

"For what exactly? Cause there's a long list of things left unsaid," Charles shoots back bitterly.

"Charles" you mutter and he backs down. You know how hard this is for him too, seeing Erik. Having him within arms reach yet him being worlds away from the man that you two knew and loved.

"He's right," Erik says sitting upright in his seat, "I did things and people got hurt in the process."

Your eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of him, heart heavy with the hatred of his own beliefs and the pain that its inflicted.

“I’m sorry Charles for what happened, I truly am. Not a day passed where I let myself forget it, I never meant to hurt you."

The anger practically radiates off Charles as his leg anxiously bounces even faster. He then climbs up from his seat before storming off passing you and Erik until he disappears from view.

"He'll come around," you mutter.

"I know," Erik sighs. "Charles has a flair for the dramatics."

Your lips betray you as they curl into a small smile. Locking eyes with him you feel the guard you had fought so hard you built to distance yourself from him, rumble threatening to drop into ash.

"I missed you everyday, y/n."

"Erik please-"

"I couldn't escape you even if i tried. You know that better than I do."

"I thought I knew you, now I'm not so sure," you whisper barely loud enough for Erik to register.

Slumping further into his seat, the guilt settles deeper in his bones. He knows he'll never forgive himself for what he did that day on the beach. Yet, sitting here in front of you he wants nothing more than to be able to be loved by you again.

"I couldn't save you.." he croaks. Eyes glossy as tears began to pool his eyes.

"That didn't mean you had to go. Erik, we could've fought through it, together."

“I was too blind to see that I hurt the ones I love. I carry the weight of my crimes every day."

"You don't have to carry it alone." Hesitantly you reach your hand across to grab his. He's still warm to the touch just as you remembered, rubbing smooth circles over his knuckles with your thumbs, you savor the feel of him, having been deprived of it for so long.

"There's still time to make things right."

"I'd like that." Bringing your interlocked hand to his lips he places a kiss on top of your knuckles.

#erik lehnsherr x reader #magneto x reader #magneto imagine #cherik x reader #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmen #xmen movies #marvel #xmen fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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fandomnerd9602 · 3 months

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Laura: what are you not gonna do?

Y/N: (sighs) not break the fourth wall

Laura: and?

Y/N: not annoy the writer for nsfw headcanons but baby-

Laura: no buts!

Y/N: I’m a Wilson! Our whole thing is fourth wall breaking!!

Laura kisses Y/N softly…

Y/N: never mind I’m happy

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #xmen #x23 #laura kinney #dafne keen #laura x23 #x23 x reader #deadpool #Deadpool reader #incorrect xmen quotes #xmen fanfiction #xmen fandom

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rogue-gambit-fan-zine · 4 months

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Here we go folks, ringing in a shiny New Year with another exciting contributor announcement!

Today we're rounding out our writing team with double threat @ludi-ling who will also be on art! You'd be a fool not to check out all her breathtaking works on her socials below and follow, like, and reblog! Very honored to have her on this zine!

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shawty-writes-a-little · 4 months

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don’t ever let go

꒰ erik lensherr x fem!reader ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

.𖥔 ݁ 🪐˖ word count: 2.2k+

⌞ plot: sort of hurt comfort when erik finds his rather irritable posing s/o going through a nightmare ⌝

warnings: nightmares, angst sort of (fluff end dw)?

People with contradictory world view and general thinking are bound to be engaged in petty disagreements. As strongly opinionated as Erik was he never got along with one certain mutant. Erik and y/n, always fighting, at each other’s throats. Most times they were rather entertaining scene creators at the Xavier’s institute, clashes were famous with the most colourful language used amongst the students. However Charles grew tired of this, best minds he knew were always bickering and fighting. Petty fights and little grudges turn ugly if pit against each other on battleground. God forbid that situation ever arises but Charles bad seen enough falling apart within his own to know how much could go wrong.

So, to get them along he paired the two to gather intel on some government bills at the procession gala held at Berlin. He was persuasive but not god, after all it was the hardest task in the world to get erik and y/n sit for dinner at the same table let alone go halfway across the world and pose as a couple, stay in one place and not blow cover? Charles came with the most believable persuading story as he could, lied the Oval Office asked for the two to specifically attend the mission this and that and it was a long afternoon trying to convince the two but the professor won in the end.

That is how Erik and her ended up in Berlin, the moment they were alone, not posing anymore their smiles and in-love act completely dropped. Shutting the hotel door behind him Erik sighed. It was a whole week of these galas and charity events, back from their first one and y/n was already growing tired of Erik. “You know I kind of hated how you manhandled me back there.” She complained as she leaned on the wall for support and removed her heels.

“What?” He asked confused as he removed his blazer and draped it on the sofa chair “What are you talking about I did no such thing” he said not exactly recalling anything like that.

“You said something to that senator in French and then grabbed me close to you to kiss my forehead like I was on the run from you-who does that?” Y/n said, she didn’t speak French so she didn’t understand what the conversation was on about regardless the moment she recalled, she wasn’t even standing that far away for him for him to yank her close to him like that.

“A husband?” Erik said raising brows as he exaggerated in obviousness removing his cufflinks.

“With the grace of a woodcutter?” She scoffed as she rolled her eyes at him, it’s not like she minded that, the two posed like that the entire night at the event it’s just that erik would time and time loose his cool and she didn’t want any casualties further into these galas “it would look like I’m your hostage instead of wife can’t you try and look gentler somehow?”

“You just made that up.” Erik said as he shook his head disregarding her suggestion “The senator made a rather vulgar comment about you in French by the way, instead of adding to it I held you close. Would you rather I laugh along with him and appear rather crass?”

“you can try but you can’t really change what you are” Y/n mumbled with a stifled chuckle at her own jab as she stood by the dressing table mirror removing her jewellery.

“I heard that.” He responded giving her a disappointed look but she just laughed at it anyways. He changed out of his shirt as they’d conversed. Not engaging in silly debates anymore y/n went to the adjoining bathroom to change out of her dress.

Erik worked on gathering some background on the guests of the events they’d met and conversed with, information in context of intel they had so far whilst y/n updated Charles via a long email, two emails, one of the intel and other how much insufferable Erik was.

Their third day in Berlin went remotely same, night however was about to be different. Y/n was settling their bed, the first two nights they took turns on the sofa but it turned out to be very uncomfortable to sleep in so they decided to share the bed. Erik glanced up from his laptop as y/n was setting up a pillow wall on the bed “That is so childish.” He commented.

“Yeah yeah” y/n said as she rolled her eyes, making clear partition of the bed. “Do not invade my side alright?”

Erik couldn’t help but laugh at the use of ‘invade’ “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said as he turned his attention back to the laptop. He decided to stay up rather late that night even after y/n retreated to bed. He would joke that it was easier to work after she was sleep and before she was awake as if he secretly didn’t hate the absence her ramblings brought.

An hour or so had passed, Y/n was sound asleep as he decided to wind up. He left to clean the desk, brush his teeth and wind down. When he came to bed he was met with y/n mumbling in her sleep, tossing and turning on her side of the bed.

His gaze softened when he realised she might be going through a nightmare. It seemed difficult, whatever she was seeing, he couldn’t understand her words but he caught a few pleading syllables here and there. “y/n…hey wake up” he cooed softly as he tried to wake her up, he gently placed his hands on her shoulder. “Hey-you’re just dreaming y/n…wake up.” He spoke and she got up almost instantly, breathing heavily.

She sat up trying to get used to the surroundings again, always the same thing. She hated when those dreams resurfaced revolving around her most despised horror. Erik had heard from Charles of what she’d been through when she was new, he didn’t know she was impacted to this scale. “Are you alright?” His voice arose another bad feeling inside of her. She didn’t want to be perceived as a weakling in front of him. When they’d argue he’d often call her that, not that she wouldn’t call him worse back but she would hate if he found out about this ordeal. She didn’t want to appear weak.

Getting out of the bed hurriedly she rushed to the table stand, feeling a bit dizzy after how fast she stood up and how fast she was trying to comprehend everything. She tried to pour herself a glass of water shakily. Her train of thoughts ran as she tried not to have a break down, her heart beat fast from the visuals of the nightmare still fresh in her mind. Erik was quick to pace up to her “Hey look at me” he spoke taking the jug of water out of her hands given she was struggling to pour it properly.

“Are you alright?” Erik repeated his question and he could note how she was still too shaken to answer correctly and fine enough.

“Y-yeah-“ she could muster out as she tried to level her breathing which didn’t seem to work apparently.

“Y/n.” He spoke leaning lower to meet her eyes since she avoided eye contact with him, “look at me” he spoke as he placed comforting hands by biceps to hold her upright. “Deep breaths with me, come on.” He spoke as he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. He rubbed her back as she was still slightly trembling guiding her to breathe evenly.

After a few moments when she tried to fake the best proper composure she could she nodded, “I’m alright thanks” she said very softly afraid she might tear up any moment. Ever so tired and scared of her recurring nightmares, just when she thought it was getting better. Why would it not leave her alone? Why couldn’t she move past it?

Erik wasn’t a mind reader but the look on her face read enough for him at the moment, “y/n” he sighed “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I said it’s fine-“ she said with an exhale however her breaking voice and avoiding stare said something else. She couldn’t hold it back anymore as the brimming tears surfaced out of her eyes. She held her head in her hands weeping into them. Erik didn’t say anything as he wrapped his arm around her in a comforting manner, “I-I’m not this soft alright I’m not-I’m not weak” she told him like she had to justify her crying.

“Hey hey hey-“ he cooed as he pulled away just to see her face again, “who says you’re weak? This is completely alright.” He reasoned with her as she cried.

“No I—I just-“ she didn’t exactly know how well she could phrase this out for him. How much terrified she was of what she kept seeing in her dream, from her past, haunting her again and again and how much she didn’t want him to think she was this much of a mess.

“You are not weak, y/n. You are anything but weak. It’s difficult going through a nightmare but you’re really strong, you made out of it see” he talked to her patiently in a very encouraging manner as he wiped her tears with his sleeve.

“It felt so real-“ she choked up as she tried her best to stop crying, Erik took her into his arms, giving her a hug as he spoke sweet nothings to him.

She cried and trembled in his arms unable to speak coherently until she soothed her crying, he held her throughout it. “I am just so tried Erik…” she said as he pulled away to look at her face.

He removed the hair in front of her face, tucking it behind her ear, “is it always this bad?” He asked her, feeling really awful how much she’d had gone through already and even then in sleep she wasn’t left alone of it. Y/n nodded as she wiped the tears off her face, she wasn’t so phased by ‘this’ bad given she was used to them now.

“Is it frequent?” He asked, his softened gaze holding her trouble one.

“Not as frequent but-it comes and goes, I just can’t escape it.” She said with a dejected sigh. “I am used to it I just wish I was—properly used to it. I wish I wasn’t this affected…”

“Nobody should have to be used to this y/n it’s difficult, really difficult.” He told her as he held her hands in his softly. “It’s bound to affect you, in the worst way it’s made you…you. Surely doesn’t define you but it defines your strength, your courage. You are truly strong.”

“But I’m afraid Erik” she told him looking away, “I am exhausted of being this afraid.”

“And that’s fine.” He replied holding her hands in his a little tighter to impose the exaggeration of his words, “It takes strength to keep going, even more to be afraid and still keep going and you have done that job very well y/n.” He spoke as he kissed her forehead with a comforting smile adorning his face, reflecting how proud he was she made it through. “Let me help you?”

Y/n took a deep breath as she nodded, she felt rather safe in his help. In his presence and his touch, it was as comforting as it was safe. He helped her through that night, holding her close staying awake until she eventually fell asleep in his arms and he didn’t want to ever let go.

—

HIIII I hope you have a good day pls pls pls let me know if anyone wants to read more erik pieces! Requests are open too🕺

Feed back is desperately appreciated :)

Go drink water. Now. Or you will stub your toe in a corner in the next 10 seconds.

#erik lensherr x you #erik lensherr x reader #erik lensherr #magneto x reader #magneto #xmen fanfiction #erik lensherr imagine #xmen x reader

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eleonoraalbright · 9 months

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Do You Want To Know A Secret?

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Excerpt: You felt a deep sense of sadness settle in the bottom of your stomach, for now you were convinced that he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps if you had the tiniest bit of courage, you could tell Peter about your secret crush on him.

Your window was opened to the warm evening air, and the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was a peaceful sight. Kids and teenagers were scattered on the lawn, either playing frisbee or basketball, some sat in circles laughing at the antics of those around them. All of the students seemed content and happy.

You weren’t. You sat in your bedroom by the window looking out at the scene feeling somewhat alienated from your peers, and jealous. It wasn’t the little kids running or the friends competing among each other you were jealous of; it was the couples. The couples that were blatantly making out, holding hands, or simply cuddled up together.

Scott and Jean were sitting down on the grass chatting. A young boy threw the frisbee in the wrong direction and it came hurtling towards Scott, whose back was turned and didn’t notice. Luckily, Jean did.

With her telekinetic abilities, she stopped the projectile and returned it to the grateful boy. Scott thanked his girlfriend by trailing kisses down her neck, whispering in her ear. Even from a distance, you could see Jean blush under his attention. You wanted that. Not from Scott but from someone else.

Your gaze turned back toward the picture you held in your hands. It was taken almost a year ago when the school had a summer party to celebrate the end of the semester. In the photo, you and Peter Maximoff were sitting down on a bench eating watermelon slices. Peter wore his ridiculous Hawaiian swim trunks decorated with a variety of tropical birds.

The day had been a blast filled with swimming, water balloon fights, tasty food, wonderful company, and your first kiss, sort of. Peter had kissed you on the cheek at the night’s end. When it happened your heart nearly exploded from excitement. For a time, you had hoped it was the beginning of a romance between you and him, but alas it was not. You didn’t see much of him last summer, and neither you nor him had made any steps into a relationship in the past year.

Your fingers brushed the picture of Peter’s face, and you felt a deep sense of sadness settle in the bottom of your stomach, for now you were convinced that he only saw you as a friend. Perhaps if you had the tiniest bit of courage, you could tell him about your secret crush on him but every time an opportunity arose for you to act, you’d get cold feet and leave before he’d suspect anything.

Sighing, you leaned your head against the wall trying to think of something other than Peter. You focused on your record player in front of you. The vinyl spinning around and around was hypnotizing and you relaxed for a moment, listening to John Lennon’s voice sing “Baby It’s You”.

Uh, oh, it doesn't matter what they say I know I'm gonna love you any old way What can I do, and it's true Don't want nobody, nobody

Cause baby, it's you

To help with your melancholy mood, you put on the Beatles’ first album Please Please Me. Now, when paying close attention to the lyrics, your thoughts drifted towards Peter again. You wanted him but he didn’t want you. Briefly, you were glad when the song changed but soured again when the song was “Do You Want To Know A Secret?”

Maybe a collection of love songs wasn’t the best idea to listen to when trying to forget about your crush. In irritation at the band singing about love, you almost threw the disc across your room. However, you calmed yourself, it wouldn't help your situation to destroy it. Besides, your dad bought the record when he was your age and gifted it to you as a present for your last birthday.

Taking deep breaths in and out, you felt a rush of air beside you. Your stomach dropped when you saw who caused it. Peter, handsome as ever, was standing next to you, wearing his signature silver jacket and goggles. "Hey, whatcha up to?"

You pressed the picture to your front, covering it as much as you could with your hands. You hoped he wouldn't pay attention to the song, see the photo, and connect the dots. "Uh, nothing much. Just listening to some music."

Peter picked up the cover of the album and raised an eyebrow. "The Beatles? Seriously?" He questioned in mock disappointment.

You shrugged your shoulders. "It's a good band, and I like this song." The record spun faster, and both of you were silent as George Harrison sang out:

Closer, let me whisper in your ear Say the words you long to hear I'm in love with you, ooh

Fidgeting, you glanced between the record player and Peter, feeling nervous. Peter did the same with you, though he seemed unbothered. You tapped your fingers tensely, wondering what possible course of action to take so you could slip away. It wouldn't be too random to jump out the window and army crawl through the bushes to escape, right?

Peter opened his mouth to speak, and fearing what might come out of his mouth, you said, "Yeah my dad bought it when he was younger, and he asked my mom out while they danced to this. She loves telling that story, always saying that without this song I might not have been born. So that's one of the reasons I like it, and it's a good song."

You stopped rambling, and noticed Peter had a curious expression on his face. "Do girls actually like that?"

"Huh?"

"That cheesy romance stuff, like your mom did. Girls like that?"

"Umm..." Your brain seemed to have short circuited at his question. "I mean it depends on the girl. Some girls do and some don't. Also depends on the circumstances, and who's asking is pretty important too." You let out a chuckle at the end, attempting to alleviate a bit of the awkwardness.

Peter held the album for a few more seconds, digesting the information. He tossed the cover on your bed and asked, "Well, speaking of pleasing me, do you wanna go to 7-Eleven. A little bird told me they got a new shipment of twinkies." He had a lopsided grin on his face.

You would've said yes, been happy to spend any amount of time with Peter, but now being in his company was unbearable. It was difficult having to joke, laugh, talk, and pretend you were content to be with him but not be with him. You couldn't keep up the façade. Not now. You replied, breaking eye contact, "I'm sorry, Pete. I don't want to right now."

"It'll take less than a minute. We can get some silly string too. Scott's room is lookin' real drab and it needs a bit of color stop to liven it up," he coaxed.

"No, I have a headache. I just want to be alone this evening." You gave him a sad smile, hoping he'd understand.

Peter was unhappy that you wouldn't come with him, but didn't pester any further. He nodded and departed without another word. You returned to gazing at the window, feeling dissatisfied with Peter's friendship and frustrated at your inability to tell him the truth.

"I'm glad I could come, Peter."

"Yeah, it's been a while since we hung out."

It was a hot July day in the suburbs of D.C. where you were staying with the Maximoff's. Over summer break, you had grown bored at home, so you decided to pay your favorite speedster a visit. An ample time had elapsed since that evening in May, that you felt confident enough to be around Peter without becoming a stuttering lovestruck fool.

You had even gone out with a couple of dudes to get your mind off him. But now, with the two of you alone in his basement, your mind wandered over to possible romantic scenarios that could happen. You mentally rebuked yourself for thinking such things about your friend. Maybe there was some cute guy in a movie you could obsess over instead of Peter.

To distract yourself, you started looking through his extensive collection of stolen albums. He had all of Pink Floyd’s, including Atom Mother Heart, Meddle, Obscured by Clouds, and Dark Side of the Moon which was his favorite.

"So, what do you feel like listening to?" You asked Peter who was playing Ms. Pac-Man on the other side of the room. Just as you were about to suggest Obscured by Clouds, he sped off and appeared again, this time closer to you, holding up a new one. It was Please Please Me.

"I was thinking of this one." He put it on his record player and fast-forward through a few songs until "Do You Want To Know A Secret" started playing. He held out his hand to you. Shocked by his actions, you took his hand hesitantly.

He put his other hand on your waist and began swaying. Peter was dancing with you! You tried to regain your composure and hoped he couldn't hear your heart beating a zillion miles per hour.

You'll never know How much I really love you You'll never know How much I really care

You tried to begin a conversation to preoccupy yourself from the warm sensation spreading throughout your body but was stopped by Peter whispering in your ear. “Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell?” You stiffened at his words. "Closer, let me whisper in your ear. Say the words you long to hear."

He murmured the lyrics along with the song as it played. He continued, "I've known a secret for a week or two. Nobody knows, just we two." Peter twirled you around once then brought you closer to him. His lips brushed against your ears once more as he continued his soft singing. "Say the words you long to hear. I'm in love with you."

Tingles traveled up your spine when he said the romantic words. You looked him dead in the eyes, determining if this was all a giant joke, Peter being a jerk and playing with your tangled emotions, or if he was genuine. He returned your gaze and explained, "Technically it's been more than a week but that's what the song says."

You gaped at him. "Peter, are- are you serious? Are you joking?" You swallowed all of your apprehension and hardened your voice. "Cause if you are, I'll knock you into next Tuesday."

He gave a small chuckle at your reaction. "I wouldn't be slow dancing with you in my basement if I didn't like you." He emphasized the slow part to get his point across. However, something was off about Peter, he licked his lips, and looked, dare you say it, scared?

You realized he was waiting for you to say if you liked or didn't like him back. The thought made you smile. The fact that you, of all people, could make Peter nervous. How the tables had turned. You contained the laughter bubbling up inside you and answered, "I like you too, Peter."

His worried expression was quickly replaced with a cocky grin. "Huh, who knew this cheesy romance stuff worked?"

"Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

"Yeah, I should thank your dad next time I see him for the tip."

You let out a breathy laugh at his comment, before gingerly pressing your lips against his. He kissed back. You broke away first and rested your head on his shoulder. Peter hummed in contentment.

He whispered, "You know, I could get used to going this slow with you." In his cluttered basement, you and Peter danced to the Beatles, stopping more often than not to kiss each other. You were glad that his and your affections were no longer secret anymore.

Listen, do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell, whoa, oh Closer, let me whisper in your ear Say the words you long to hear I'm in love with you

Taglist: @spderm4nnnn

#peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel #x reader #peter maximoff x fem!reader #quicksilver x you

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quickiesgirl · 1 year

Note

could you do a smut where Peter and yn are caught mid action?

I haven't written for Peter in such a long time. I feel like I’ve abandoned my boy! 🥺

Caught - Peter Maximoff

Warning: 18+, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Caught, Fatherly Charles Xavier, Slight Teasing, My Shitty Writing.

“Does that feel good,- baby? - mmh - Having me fuck this tight little cunt.” Peter murmured, listening to your cute little moans grow louder with every pleasuring thrust he made as your inner walls squeezed around his cock, coating him in your milky arousal.

“Y-y-yes! Feels fucking amazing, P-peter!” You breathily moaned, pussy pulsating as you gazed up at your boyfriend. He was sweaty with strands of silver hair undid from his tousled bun, his lengthy tongue dragging across his upper lip, and those dark brown eyes ogling you from above, watching your adorable reactions.

Loud music played in your bedroom and slightly leaked out into the empty institution, covering up all your sexual noises, including the sound of the door opening as Charles Xavier suddenly walked in unannounced. Peter was too infatuated with your body to notice in enough time.

“Y/n, please, turn down the - Bloody Hell!”

You gasped horrifically, face flushing with embarrassment as you crossed your arms over your naked chest. Peter scrambled for the sheets, speeding them up his waist to cover your naked bottom halves.

“I-I’m so sorry!” He apologized, covering his eyes and exiting as fast as possible, leaving the two of you alone in humiliation.

Charles stood in the hall, uncomfortably rubbing the temples of his head, trying to forget what he just witnessed, speaking low beneath his breath, “This is why we have locks on our doors...”

Your hands instantly covered your face, hiding your embarrassment. It was just your luck that this happened... Peter would never force you to continue, and he knew how uncomfortable you were so he gently held your hips and slowly pulled his erection out .

He layed down beside you, watching you rolled over and bury your head in his inner neck, “I’m so fucking embarrassed right now… I can't believe we forgot to lock the door.”

“I - I’m sure he didn't see much.” He said, attempting to make you feel better about the situation.

“He saw enough to know what we were doing… oh god!”

You shoved your face into the pillow, laying against the mattress with a pit in your stomach and your mind racing a million miles a minute, faster than your speedster boyfriends.

“W-wait, h-he isn’t gonna like fuck with my head or anything out of spite for banging his daughter, right?” He asked seriously with wide concerned eyes that brought a small chuckle to escape your lips as you shook your head.

“Don't worry, Charles doesn’t have his powers anymore. But, if he did, I think he’d attempt to haunt you.”

“Well, good thing he doesn't.” Peter sighed with relief before speeding across the room, collecting all your scattered clothes from the floor, and sat back beside you, sweetly folding them for you while watching you go back to groaning into your pillow.

That night Charles had a long, fatherly discussion with the two of you and a prepared speech on safe sex while passing over a box of condoms that he saved for this day.

Let’s just say you were in hell for a long, excruciating hour. Peter found it very entertaining how embarrassed you were, and even teased you about it. You made sure to punish him later for that…

Peter Maximoff Smut Taglist: @sunflowerharrington @rottenstyx

Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff x reader smut #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff xmen #quicksilver #quicksilver smut #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x you #quicksilver fanfiction #xmen quicksilver #xmen days of future past #xmen fanfiction #xmen #quickiesgirl writing

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kiraswritten · 7 months

Text

Pyro x Reader (Smut)

pairing: pyro x reader warning: smut (not full blown but it gets pretty steamy), excessive swearing bc i love to swear, and excessive use of parentheses word count: 2k+

authors note: ya if you've read Just Maybe, this is legit word for word but it was originally written for Pyro. wrote this ages ago on another blog and i’m just trying to consolidate everything on here! :)

You’re not the type of person that wants to be in a relationship; not you cause you’re still young and why would you want to be with one person for the rest of your life so early on?

You were the type of person that liked to have a certain sense of freedom and no way was a committed relationship a thing you desired, which is why your relationship with Pyro is perfect.

He felt the same way; he too didn’t want the commitment and the hassle of feelings; those things were messy and a lot of things in Pyro’s life was already fucked up.

There you were, on his bed, straddling him only in your bra and panties (He took those off long ago), as he nipped and sucked on your neck, wonderful sounds of pleasure leaving your lips. It was a typical Thursday for the both of you; after training the two of you would take a quick shower (sometimes together) and end up in Pyro’s bed, usually naked.

“You smell like Apples,” he mumbled against your skin, dragging his teeth along the crook of your neck.

“New body wash, you like?” You teased, grinding your wet heat against his crotch.

“Tease, you know I do.” He said, biting and sucking on your neck until he left a bruise.

“You ass I can’t cover that!” You hissed, glaring at him.

Pyro rolled his eyes, “Everyone already knows we fuck; you’re acting like such a priss.” His hands trail down to your waist, slowly pushing off your lace panties.

“As much as I love these on you, they need to come off.” He grinned.

You lift your ass up (earning a groan from Pyro, he loved watching you getting naked), letting him pull off the thin article of clothing from your body, then chucking it off somewhere in the far corner of his room.

You sit back down on him, a sly grin on your face as he looks up and down your body.

You bring your lips to his ear, “Consider yourself lucky cos a pretty girl is sitting on your lap like this,” you bite at the shell of his ear, “I wonder who you saved in your past life to be this lucky.”

Pyro closed his eyes, gripping your waist tightly, he grinds his crotch on you, a moan leaving your lips. “Yeah Baby, I’m lucky as hell. You dripping wet and ready for me, I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You loved how the two of you can’t seem to get your hands off of each other; no matter how many times the two of you go at it, the intensity and hunger for each other grows each time.

Pyro latches his mouth onto your nipple, earning another moan from you, he flicks and gropes the other one with his hand as you hold onto him. He leaves love bites all over your chest, proud of his work.

“Pyro I can’t wear my tank tops ‘cause of you,” you whine but enjoy the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Just wear them, it’ll be hot.” He says into your skin. “Like me.”

He flips you over, your back on his bed, he trails kisses down to your hip bone, grazing his teeth, then trailing kisses down to your thighs. You close your eyes, gripping at the sheets, “Oh fuck you’re so wet babe,” he says, he licks a trail at your entrance, making you squirm under his touch. “Fuck John, if you don’t fuck me this instant I swear I’m gonna kick your ass!” You yell out, impatient at how he’s playing you.

His eyebrow twitches; he hated it when people called him John but with you it turns him on knowing that you only did that when you were sexually frustrated by him.

“All you had to do was ask,” he sneered, sticking a finger into your wet cunt.

“Fuck,” you gasp out, your back arching off of the bed.

“I need you, please,” you gasp out, “I can’t with foreplay right now, I want you inside me,” Pyro quickly discards his boxers, kicking them off to the floor. He makes his way to you, hovering over your naked body, his eyes glazed over with lust.

He parts your legs with his knees, you bite down on your bottom lip in anticipation, he always liked making you squirm under him. His eyes look down on you, his arm near your head, propping him up while his other hand is wrapped around his cock, giving it a few pumps before lining it against your entrance.

“You want me Babe?” He has his shit-eating grin plastered on his face; you knew how you looked under him; you knew how red your cheeks were, lips swollen, eyelids half-lidded, chest heaving; he had you right when he wanted you. “Please-” “Please what?” He rubs his tip against your wet folds, teasing you.

You knew he wanted you to beg for his cock, he wanted to hear you moan and whimper just for him. “I’m not begging, just be a good boy for me and give me what I want.” You whine, lifting your hips for any type of friction.

He lets go of his cock, his hand grabbing your hip, pushing your down. “Boy? What did you just call me?” His eyes grew dark, the pressure of his hold on your hip grew tighter, “Oh honey, I am not a boy,” He growls, slipping himself inside you with one forceful thrust. “Oh fuck,” you cry out, arching your back off of the bed.

“Yesyesyesyes!” you sigh out, Pyro grins at your reaction, quickening his thrusts. He shifts his weight and uses his elbow to hold himself up, both of your pelvises pressed against each other. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him into a kiss; all tongue and teeth clashing, you needed to taste him.

It ends with him rolling off of you, lying down next to you as the two of you catch your breaths, his fingers slowly interlocks with yours. You think nothing of it but you can’t deny it quickens your heartbeat when he does.

He’s only done this recently. You don’t ask him why he does it and he doesn’t tell you why either. The two of you lie in silence (sans the heavy breathing) till you’re reasonably calm.

You begin to get up from the bed, wanting to go to the restroom because you needed to go (no uti’s for you). His grip on your hand pulls you back slightly, causing you to look at him. “Come back after?” he asks, his usual icy grey eyes soften at you.

You nod your head as you let go of his hand, quickly grabbing his shirt and boxers from the floor; ignoring the burning sensation in your thighs. You quickly dress in his clothing, scurrying to the bathroom. You finish your business and walk back into his room; he’s half dressed, barely, only in boxers as he fixes the pillows back to their original positions.

He’s changed the bed sheets; the old one stuffed into his hamper. You close the door and jump into his bed, loving the softness of his new blanket.

He lies next to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. You turn your body towards him, resting your head on his chest; this is normal, nothing’s changed. Can my heart stop beating so fucking fast?!

You’ve been lying to yourself for a while now; you’re terrified of commitment yet this is the longest relationship you’ve had with someone. You didn’t want feelings to mess up the thing you had with Pyro, it was good, you were happy.

The plan was foolproof; the two of you would stay best of friends, no feelings attached when the two of you fucked; just sexual frustrations poured over one (sometimes yours, so two) bed(s), no strings attached. Your relationship in bed is strictly in bed and your relationship as friends were out of the room.

But your heart decided to join the party and made you confused.

You caught yourself more times than you’d like to admit, daydreaming of going on dates with Pyro, hell, even holding his hand in public and it scared you. This was supposed to be fun and mess free and you suddenly find yourself tangled in your own emotions.

It didn’t help that when the two of you were in public, he’d hold you by your waist as if it were natural, or you’d be sitting on his lap during break, it’s like he needed to be touching you when the two of you weren’t grabbing each other in bed. It only occurred to you how much you needed to feel his presence recently and that scared you.

You didn’t want this; you didn’t want feelings, but here you are, in bed with the guy that you might have (maybe) feelings for. “Py,” you say, breaking the silence, he loved it when you called him the shitty nickname you gave him but he’d never admit that to your face.

“Yeah?” He asked, his eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“I think we should stop this whole thing,” You feel your cheeks heat up, cause i’m pretty sure i’m in fucking love with you and i don’t want to be. “Huh?” He says, surprised, he sits himself up on the headboard, his arm still wrapped around your waist.

You look up at him, meeting his gaze, his eyes a darker shade of grey.

“The whole ‘this’ I-I think we should stop.” You watch his reaction to your words, he furrows his brows in confusion, “Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong?” He asks and you immediately feel shitty,

“No, no! It’s not that, nothing like that. You-uh, you’re great-amazing even!” Oh fucking god I shouldn’t have said shit. “I just, I think we should just stop with that now, I mean- don’t you wanna do it with someone else?” You cringe at your words, you wanted to kick yourself in the ass for saying those words cause you don’t mean them at all.

“Do you?” He asks, his throat feeling tight, “Did you find someone else you wanted to fuck?” The last word cut into you, making you bite down on your lip.

“No, that’s not the point-Jesus- Pyro no, fuck, just forget it, forget it.” You turn your body away from his, closing your eyes. He slinks back down on the bed, this time pulling you closer, your back against his chest.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, his voice void of any emotion.

Something inside you snaps and all you want to do is tell him everything; tell him that you’ve (probably) fallen for him and it eats at you. You broke the rule and all you wanted to do was run away.

You don’t reply and he doesn’t push any further; he was lost in his own thoughts, wondering if he did anything wrong.

Did she find out? He curses himself silently, am i that fucking obvious? He wonders if you noticed how needy he’s grown to have you near him, he wonders if you’ve noticed how he looks at you when you’re doing homework or cleaning, or doing absolutely fucking nothing, he wonders if you know that he’s head-over-heels for you and he wants to kick himself in the ass cause he broke the rule.

He was lying to himself the day the two of you decided this whole ordeal. He was being selfish and he wanted you for himself.

You didn’t want to feel this way; you didn’t want to ruin whatever it was that you had.

“Feelings ruin shit.” you mumble, loud enough for Pyro to hear.

“I think I fucking love you okay and- okay I lied, I don’t think I do, I probably do-like there’s a good chance I do and I’m sorry I broke the rule, god why am I still talking-” You were cut off by Pyro pulling you into his chest, hugging you tight.

“I love you too, fuck you scared me. I thought you didn’t want me around anymore.” He says, unable to control the smile that spread across his face.

You look at him, blinking the tears from your eyes (you didn’t even realise you were crying), he lets out a chuckle, wiping the tears from your face, “You baby,” He teases, and you swat his arm, and he laughs this time, hugging you tighter.

You melt into his touch, he presses a soft kiss on your forehead and your heart bursts cause this was one of the scenarios you’ve thought of and it’s so much better than you imagined, “I swear to god if you tell anyone this I’m gonna set you on fire,” and the magic is ruined. “That’s the Pyro I know, ruining moments like this.”

#john allerdyce #pyro #xmen imagine #john allerdyce x reader #xmen x reader #xmen fanfic #xmen fanfiction #pyro x reader #kiraswritten

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