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mysterious-ocarina · 2 years

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My Darling (NSFW)

Sub!Charles Xavier x female!reader

Main Masterlist Requests

(2.6k words)

A/N this doesn’t necessarily take place in the canon timeline, somewhere near First Class is what I was imagining. I got inspiration for your mutation from poison ivy from dc comics

“It’s a very groovy muta…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen anymore, turning back around to face Raven with a sigh.

“I don’t need to be a mind reader to know what you’re thinking about,” Raven nudged you. You grew up with the two mutants, arriving a few years after Raven. Being the only other female, you became very close, pretty much like sisters.

“Well, what should I be thinking?” you asked with a sad look on your face.

“That we both know, you’re the only girl that Charles has had his eyes on,” Raven replied. She was under the delusion that Charles reciprocated your feelings.

“Tell that to the girl that he is literally staring at. He even used that stupid mutation line on her,” you sighed, pointing at the two of them, the girl laughing at something Charles said.

“Yeah, but he uses that line on all the girls. It’s not anything special and neither is she,” she reassured you. Before you could say anything back you watched as the girl flirtatiously walked away from Charles, offering him a small wave.

You summoned a vine, putting it in front of the woman’s heels. Both you and Raven giggled as she tripped and walked off embarrassed. Hearing your giggles, Charles looked at you, briefly hearing your thoughts.

Walking over to you guys, he admonished, “Why would you do that?”

“Do what?” you replied innocently before pettily turning your back to him, fire red hair flipping behind you. “I think I’m going to head back to the mansion, I’m getting tired.”

You quickly walked off, not waiting for a reply. Back at the mansion, you sluggishly walked past Erik who regarded you with concern. “What’s up with you?”

“A groovy mutation,” you mockingly replied, stopping your footsteps. “Is there something wrong with me? Does he really only see me as another sister?”

Surprised by your outburst, Erik calmly responded, “So, this is about Charles.”

“Of course this is about him. I’m going to grow old and become a crazy cat lady. And the only thing I’ll be known for is being Professor X’s sister. Not, his lover, his girlfriend, his wife, not even some girl he occasionally sleeps with,” you ranted. You tended to be temperamental and dramatic, so your rant wasn’t that off putting for Erik to listen to.

“You know, you could always just tell him how you feel,” Erik offered, making you sigh.

“He can read minds, for Christ's sake. I shouldn’t have to tell him anything,” you finished. You sulked all the way outside to the gardens.

Coming up to your favorite tree, you made a series of soft vines into the shape of a hammock for you to lay on. This was something you commonly did when you needed a break or you needed to calm down.

When Charles and Raven got home to the mansion, Charles went off to find you. He loved spending time with you, especially in the late hours of the night. These were the times you were most comfortable with each other, often involved in deep conversation. It was these late nights that made you fall in love with each other, not that you knew of Charles’ feelings.

Charles, looking out the window, saw you curled up in vines under your tree. Grabbing his softest blankets and a few pillows, he made his way outside to you.

“Are you awake?” Charles whispered.

You groggily turned around, barely replying with a hum, and falling right back asleep.

Charles smiled dreamily at your sleeping form, projecting the image of a calm meadow into your mind. He softly placed one of the pillows under your head then placed the other one next to yours. Crawling into the vined hammock, Charles placed the blankets over the both of you before falling into a dreamless sleep.

When you woke the next morning, you were surprised to find not only soft blankets covering you but also strong arms holding you close to a firm chest. Turning around slowly you found a peaceful Charles still sleeping. You snuggled closer into his chest, not wanting the moment to end.

Charles rustled next to you, “Good morning.”

Wow, his voice is so sexy like this, you thought. “Morning.”

Charles smiled at you, you hoped he didn’t hear your last thought.

“How did you sleep?” he asked you.

“I slept amazing actually. I dreamt of a beautiful forest scene,” you replied, raising your eyebrow at him. He often would give you good dreams, especially if you weren’t sleeping well. You had gotten so used to it, that you could tell the difference between dreams you actually had, and ones that he gave you.

“I found you out here, last night, and I didn’t want you to get cold or anything,” Charles replied bashfully.

“I’m not complaining, am I?” you sassily replied.

Charles simply just brought you closer to his chest. You both laid there for most of the day until Charles was needed by Hank.

As soon as you could, you went to find Raven. She was in the middle of a conversation with Erik when you found her. You grabbed her, urgently telling Erik, “Sorry, it’s very important. I need Raven right now.”

“What the hell?” Raven asked you once you made it to your room. You explained what you woke up to this morning, making her even more giddy than you were.

“This is perfect. He’s definitely into you,” Raven offered excitedly.

“Well what do I do about it?” you asked. You

“You should make your move tonight after dinner,” Raven explained. She then went into a detailed fake scenario about what will happen. You tuned her out to think of your own plan.

After your talk with Raven, you ended up taking a short nap. When you woke up, you realized you would be late for dinner, so you quickly freshened up and made your way down.

You could hear the usual commotion of dinner, except it sounded a bit more hectic than usual. Upon walking into the dining area you noticed three things. First, your chair that was usually between Charles and Raven, was broken to pieces in its spot. Next, you saw Hank and Alex wrestle about on the floor. Then last, you noticed an annoyed Charles, a bemused Raven, and a thrilled Erik.

“What the hell happened?” you questioned. At the sound of your voice, the two boys on the ground got up swiftly, pointing a finger at each other.

“The boys thought to bring their wrestle match inside. Your chair as well as a couple unsuspecting vases were victims of this,” Charles explained with a sigh.

“Well where do I sit?” you asked. Neither Hank or Alex made eye contact with you, not wanting to give up their seats.

“What about Charles' leg? I want you to still be next to me, but you would crush my small thighs,” Raven smirked at you. You knew exactly what she was trying to suggest, you just hoped that Charles didn’t pick up on it.

“I’m okay with that,” Charles replied, scooting his chair out a bit so you could fit.

Softly sitting on his lap, with a blush, you complimented, “Ever the gentleman.”

From there, thankfully, dinner went as usual. Noone seemed to care about you sitting on Charles lap. You were embarrassed and nervous the entire time, but no one seemed to pay any mind, except Raven who throughout your conversation was giving you slight smirks. Eventually, Raven was talking to Hank in front of you, so you were quietly finishing your food.

Finishing your food, you leaned back onto Charles. He coughed but said nothing. Turning around to look at him, you moved and you felt something under you. With direct eye contact with Charles, you softly moved your hips to confirm your suspicions.

That definitely won’t help, Charles breathily informed you in your mind. Be a good girl, and keep still.

With a blush, you replied, And if I don’t want to?

Charles gave you a raised brow in surprise. You hoped that you weren’t too forward or made him uncomfortable. The longer he took to reply, the more disappointed you got that he did not share your feelings.

As you were about to get up, Charles held your waist down. Softly rubbing one of your arms, he offered, Don’t worry Darling. I’m not opposed, I was just a bit taken by surprise. I assumed you saw me as nothing more than an adoptive brother.

Facing forward again to not alarm anyone to your silent conversation, I definitely don’t think of you as a brother.

You reassured your statement with a soft grind onto the hardened bulge in his pants. He breathed in your ear, gripping your arm tightly.

Keep grinding, and see what happens, Charles hinted.

Grinding harder against him, you replied, What are you thinking?

I’m thinking about taking you right on this table, he tried sounding harsh but the pleasure you were giving him only made him sound desperate.

Aww, are you that sensitive? Imagine what it will feel like when I do this without our clothes in the way, you seductively teased.

Charles shifted, letting out an almost silent whine. You looked around to see if anyone heard but everyone was too busy in their own conversations. You shifted again before ordering, I would be quiet if I were you Charles. We don’t want anyone to know about your little problem.

With a hard grind, you emphasized, Or should I call it a big problem?

Charles lightly panted behind you and if you saw his face, you would have seen it brushed with a red tint.

What do you say we sneak out of here? Charles almost begged.

Now that would be rude to leave in the middle of dinner, with that you turned to Raven and started a conversation with her, ignoring him.

Throughout the rest of dinner, you would shift just to tease Charles. He was squeezing your waist as a way to control himself. You noticed him to be a complete mess and when someone talked to him, you would start grinding making him stutter his words.

When dinner was over, which Charles would claim was hours long, you two were the last to leave.

When you finally got up, you turned around to observe Charles. His face was incredibly flushed, his pants looked a bit too tight on his bulge, and there was even a small spot of precum darkening his pants.

“Do I truly have this kind of effect on you?” you questioned with a blush.

He simply got closer to you, kissing you with so much passion you thought you would fall over. It felt like fireworks finally being able to kiss him. Your whole body flushed, and you felt your panties get even more wet than they were before.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years,” he told you. “So yes, you very much do have that effect on me.”

“Then take me to your room, Professor,” you addressed. You watched as his eyes darkened at the use of his title. He held your hand as you both swiftly made your way to his room.

Once in his room, you softly urged him towards his bed. You continued your kiss, sitting on his lap. He had his hands exploring as much of your body as he could reach, your hands simply running through his hair.

I wonder if I should pull it, you briefly thought. Charles moaned into your mouth. You stopped kissing him to give an experimental tug on his soft hair, forcing a loud groan to come from his mouth.

“Oh, is that what you want, Professor?” you teased, with a smirk.

He simply nodded in response, grinding you on him harder.

Getting off of him, you replied, “I think I need words, Professor. What do you want me to do to you tonight?”

With a flushed face and panting breath, he begged, “Please, I need you to fuck me.”

“Such lewd words, Charles,” you teased, before summoning vines to wrap around his wrists, connecting him to the bed. He whined in protest to your actions. “I don’t think you’re allowed to touch me yet, Professor.”

You straddled his waist and resumed kissing him. With his hands tied, he wasn’t able to touch you the way that he wanted to, sending a short, please, into your mind. You ignored him to kiss all around his face and neck.

You slowly kissed down his neck, finding his sweet spots and making him moan. You made marks along his neck, then his collarbones, making your way all the way down.

You softly ran your nails down his abs making him shiver in pleasure. You gave slight pecks and licks until you got to his v-line, “Should I take off your pants, Professor?”

“Please, darling,” he whined. You pulled his pants off, but left his briefs off.

Rubbing him through his briefs, watching the wet pot of precum get bigger, you teased,” I quite like the way you look. Sitting under me, you look so handsome.”

Blushing at your compliment, he wiggled his hips, urging you to touch him. You obliged by bringing your mouth close to the tent in his briefs and blowing hot air on to him.

“Please touch me, darling. I want you to fuck me,” Charles all but cried.

“Whatever you want, honey,” you replied as you finally pulled his briefs down his legs. At the sight of his cock hitting his stomach, you quickly got up to shed all of your clothes. Charles admired your naked body, wishing that he could touch you and please you.

You sat back on his naked thighs to touch him. As your fingers rubbed his cock, he let out a loud moan that had arousal pooling in you. You quickly got on your knees and sank your body fully on him.

He felt so good, stretching you out, that you let out an erotic cry that had him twitching inside you. “You like my cunt, honey?”

“Yes, you feel absolutely perfect,” he complimented. Fully adjusted to his length, you finally started to move. You place your hands on his chest for balance and set a pulsing rhythm.

You decided that you teased Charles enough, so you let the vines wrapped around him go, letting him move freely. He swiftly grabbed your hips, pounding into you.

The rhythm and speed at which Charles was pounding you with, had him touching the right spots, making you quiver in his arms. He brought a hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly.

“Are you close, Professor?” you asked breathily. He nodded his head in response. “Well that’s too bad, you aren’t allowed to come until I do.”

He whined in protest but kept going at a harsh pace. He flipped you over, hitting the perfect spot inside of you. You moaned and shook under him, approaching your orgasm.

“Make me cum, handsome,” you whispered. At your command, he brought his hand back down to your clit. He rubbed you inside and out with such passion that he had you cumming quickly and blissfully. You moaned out his name, squeezing around him, making him cum too.

Laying down peacefully next to him, you both dreamily stared at each other.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Charles softly whispered to you.

You smiled back at him, “You too, handsome.”

As you were drifting to sleep, Charles asked you, “Will you be my Darling forever?”

“I want nothing more,” you replied, giving him a soft kiss.

#charles xavier #female reader #professor x #x men fanfiction #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x you #charles xavier smut #one shot #fanfiction

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bellarkeselection · 1 year

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Ok so this is my first ever request I just loved your recent Charles Xavier fic !! So obvs Charles x reader

Charles is thrown from his wheelchair during a mission and breaks his arm. The reader has to learn how to take care of him. Charles breaks down while reader is helping him use the bathroom. After she helps him undress and get ready for bed. Once they are settled in Charles reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a ring and proposes.

(sorry if it's too specific? Not sure if I did this right 😅)

My Caretaker Ring

Charles was used to asking me for help with his wheelchair. I had met him during the lecture he gave before the event of Cuba and since we were both telepathic we could agree easily. Rolling him into the bathroom of his room he sighed sending me a look. "I am truly sorry I ask for your assistance with this dear. Unfortunately Hank is busy in the lab." Running my fingers through his hair I smiled wrapping my arms around his waist lifting him up the best I could sitting him down on the toilet. He did his business while I waited outside the door until he was finished and needed my help back into the wheelchair. "Don't worry, Charles. I don't mind this one bit. And do you know why because I care about you no matter what I have to help you with." He wrapped his arms around my shoulders grunting where we stumbled over to the wheelchair and he dropped down onto it. He sucked in a sharp breath meeting my gaze. His soft blues were tired from what I could tell.

“Alright let’s get you ready for bed. It’s been a long day for both of us.” I responded knowing that the younger students had been a mess of problems today. Charles had this sense of believing that everyone could learn to control their abilities if they tried hard enough. He raised his arms removing his shirt and changing into one of his night shirts just fine. Bending down on my knees he helped me push his pants down where I slipped his shorts up until he held himself up by the handles so he could get them up over his waist. “Thank you, my dear. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Moving behind his wheelchair I pushed him into the bedroom and up to the side of the bed where he would always insisted that he could get onto the bed on his own.

Climbing onto my side of the bed I had started sleeping in the same room as him in case he needed help in the middle of the night. Shutting my eyes I was about asleep until I felt him shifting on his side of the bed where I rolled over onto my side meeting his gaze. "Charles, are you alright - why do you have a ring?" I gasped seeing that he was holding a silver ring in his hands staring deeply at me. He shifted closer to me clearing his throat where I could see he was nervous because his face turned a light red. "Y/n, I have been waiting to find the right words before I made the move to propose but there are too many words to describe how I love you. You have been with me through everything and never once made me feel like less. You give me inspiration and love to get through anything so will you marry me?" Flinging my arms around his neck I kissed him deeply where he smiled when I broke the kiss letting him slide the ring on. "You could have asked me the night we met and I would have said yes so sooner." He kissed me slowly before we laid in the bed grinning.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

@makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @groovy-lady

#charles xavier imagine #charles xavier fluff #x men charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x you #charles xavier x y/n #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x reader fluff #charles xavier one shot #james mcavoy #x men fanfiction #x men first class #x men movies #x men x reader one shot #x men x reader #x men imagine #x men imagines #x men request #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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—STAYING IN

—word count: 241

—Erik and Charles decided it would be a good night to spend some quality time with you

—authors note: tagging @purplehyacinthx

The hairs on (Y/n)'s neck stood up, the feeling of soft breaths tickling their skin.

They managed to sink down even further into the embrace of their loved one. Every few seconds a content sigh would slip from their lips, a giddy feeling completley absorbing then with a warm fuzz from head to toe.

"You two can be so extra some times." Erik had walked back into the room, three mugs full of hot chocolate and metal encasing floating behind him. Steam rose from the tips of the tumblers. The room was filled with the scent of chocolate and whipped cream.

"You're just jealous that she's in my arms right now and not yours darling." Charles chuckled, burrowing his face further into (Y/n)'a skin and pressing a soft kiss there. To which they grinned. "Although if you wish to change that we could."

Erik simply sat down on the velvet couch next to the couple with a roll of his eyes. The steaming mugs of coco was distributed amongst the group, (Y/n) choosing to press a longing kiss to the palm of Erik's hand as he did so. He hummed in satisfaction.

"Don't patronize me Charles."

(Y/n) shut him up with a soft nudge of their knee, seeing how his eyes flashed with a hint of mischief.

"I wonder how you two manage when I'm away." (Y/n) laughed under their breath.

"So do we darling." Charles chuckled, arms opening to accomidate for Eriks added presence. "So do we."

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fouralignments · 10 months

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First Class Headcanon

Training with Pietro is the best way to increase your speed and stamina. Pietro can beat everyone and Erik tells everyone he trained with his son to really get into shape. Its like Rocky's chasing the chicken, but with his son.

So, Charles one day decides to race Pietro and Charles wanting Pietro to vary his speeds and focus on control; they do this for hours. This why in the Soviet Union, Charles can so easily follow Erik to the Russian general's mansion.

By the end, Charles is out of breath, sweating, and just exhausted; he takes a nap on the grass and Pietro collapses on his chest and decides to sleep with him. Very cute images all around.

Erik comes to find them with water bottle, pleasantly surprised to find the two of them and thinks I might just pour some water on his head to wake him up. Charles says don't you dare. Erik picks up his sohn and gives Charles a hand to help him up, before handing him water. Erik has gotten a could ice bath ready and afterwards he's going to give him a massage.

#headcanon into a mutant husband one-shot #gotta love Dadneto + Stepdad! Charles xavier and their quickieson #dadneto #peter maximoff #erik lehnsherr #quickson #charles xavier #magneto #quicksilver #cherik #x-men #stepdad! charles xavier

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lostgirlfandom · 1 year

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Marvel Masterlist

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

T'Challa

M'Baku

Namor/ K'uk'ulkan

Shang Chi

Sam Wilson

Loki

Thor

Tony Stark

Matt Murdock

Frank Castle

Off the Deep End

Billy Russo

The Right Partner *

Wanda Maximoff

Wolverine

Magneto

Xavier

Quick Silver

Druig

Makkari

Eddie Brock/Venom

Poly Pairings:

Sam x Reader x Bucky

The Chaotic Trio

Frank Castle x Reader x Matt Murdock

Just a Security Guard

Just a Security Guard Part II

Just a Security Guard Part III

Just a Security Guard Part IV

Just a Security Guard Part V

Misc

How You Meet the Avengers

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currenthyperfixationcherik · 1 year

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Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Major Character Death, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier Characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Raven | Mystique, Emma Frost, Hank McCoy, Jean Grey, Scott Summers Additional Tags: Angst, Romance, Romantic Comedy, OOC, Short One Shot, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-X-Men: Dark Phoenix (2019), Post-X-Men: First Class (2011), Movie: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)

so yeah, these are a bunch of one shots inspired mostly in songs

And I would appreciate if you have any suggestions or prompts

#cherik #one shot #cherik fanfic #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #professor x #magneto #magneto x professor x #charles x erik

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sbd-laytall · 4 months

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The lament of so many heroes.

The Uncanny X-Men and The New Teen Titans (1982) #1

#no but in the early years before they changed Raven's character she went through some serious stuff #babe deserves a break at a nice little spa #raven #rachel roth #charles xavier #professor x #the uncanny x men and the new teen titans #uncanny x men #x men #x men comics #marvel #marvel comics #the new teen titans #new teen titans #dc comics #one shot #my post

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quickandsilvers · 2 months

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Consider: something like this w/Peter.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGed5Ysh5/

Like, Peter gets hurt on a mission and he comes back with just a couple bruises and he's like, "it's just a bruise, I was shot in my costume".

[Cue the touch bit here]

Idk, I'm just,,,,, thinking,,,,, 😳😳😳

A/N- I made this wayyy longer than it had to be but.. sue me? I decided to do Reader/Peter’s introduction too because why the hell not! Also, whats a fic of mine without smut, huh?

Medical Malpractice and Awkward Interactions🔥

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader SMUT 🔥

Summary: Many times Peter Maximoff embarrasses himself in front of you, and one time you patch him up… and screw him against a shower wall. It’s standard first-aid procedure, right?

Warnings: slow burn (kinda), pining, blood, wounds, LOTS of sexual innuendoes, Nurse/Patient role-play, handjob, p in v, oral (Peter receiving), dirty talk, grinding, public humiliation, creampie, shower sex

Word Count: 9905

Taglist: @kaismanwich @evpeters87 @pretzel-bunnie (Please ask if you want to be added/removed!)

—————————————————————————

For most of his thirty plus years of his life, Peter Maximoff considered himself as a relatively easy person to get along with. He had friends who were somewhat happy to have him as company, despite his overly-outgoing nature and lack of social cues.

Magda had raised him to the best of her ability, or at least until the damned speedster mutation kicked in at twelve. After school nights of pretend tea-parties with Wanda or playing kick-the-can with the neighborhood children turned into petty-theft and a challenge of sending poor mama Maximoff on the brink of insanity and financial instability.

So yeah, said mutation sorta sent Peter into a boisterous, thieving tailspin. But hey, at least he wasn’t a complete jackass.

He never smoked, never drank, and since joining the Xmen, Peter only stole things from major companies that wouldn’t notice it was missing in the first place; and occasionally the few Rainbow or Jimi Hendrix vinyls that caught his attention passing by. ‘No one’s perfect, prof!’ Peter would tell Xavier as he returned to the mansion, only to be greeted by an unimpressed shake of the head.

And yes, he did pay back the money his mother paid for the local police to keep the mass amount of snack cakes in his basement under wraps. Once again, Peter wasn’t a complete jackass.

But then, he met you. You were a fellow professor at Charles Xavier’s School for Gifted Children, and were renowned across campus - if you weren't teaching music theory, you could either be found giving study sessions for students falling behind or making your famed lasagna bake whenever the Xmen came home from a mission - and you were loved for it.

And you were pretty. Like, shit! Hella pretty. Whether it was your skill at engaging everyone in your lectures or your jaw-droppingly gorgeous face, you held the unofficial record for the most loved on campus. Peter, as the school’s physical education teacher, was second place, and for once he didn't mind getting the silver medal.

He'd heard about you in the staff room one morning. All good things. A real glowing report card. Everyone loved you and for good reason, apparently. But you hadn’t met yet.

That was until Peter realized your class was in the morning and an hour before his PE lesson began, so he decided to snoop around to check out if you were as good as everyone said you were.

Arriving at the back of the classroom, Peter pushed his goggles up to his head, tufts of silvery soft hair coming with it.

And there you were in all your glory, sitting back on your desk and waving to everyone as they walked in, the occasional student getting 'Love your new look, Cynthia!', 'Ready for class, Michael?' or a giant grin and the sporadic finger guns.

Okay, so you were kind too. Kind and pretty. Kind and pretty and obviously smart enough to get a doctorate. Though, how hard was it to get a degree in music; what did you even have to know? Def Leppard formed back in ‘77, Neil Peart is the best drummer of all time, blah blah blah. Pssht, enter Peter into an exam and he’d have a degree in lickedey split!

The fact you had devoted your life to getting a music doctorate compelled Peter to wonder what your taste in said music was. Admittedly, he wasn’t so keen on the idea of you lecturing if Charles had formulated the curriculum himself. What did that old man even listen to? Peter found it hard to imagine his higher up rockin’ it out to Journey.. and God forbid- Black Sabbath?!

Definitely not. Xavier would be limited to the likes of Beethoven. Peter's skin crawled at the thought. Expand your horizons, you powdered-wig wearin’ maniacs!

No matter. If you did turn out to be some kind of sonata orchestral devotee, you wouldn’t be able to resist Peter’s charisma and persuasive techniques. Said persuasion would be helluva lot of nagging in your ear until you subsequently cave; and you would, because everyone does. And eventually you would join the light side of the force, and Peter would teach you the music ‘way of the jedi.’

"Hi! Hello everybody!" You greeted cheerfully and stood up, waving your arms around for emphasis. “It’s great to see you all back looking nice and refreshed!”

Peter normally would have snorted in irony. In most cases, an hour-long lecture at six am in the morning wouldn’t have people ready to learn and raring for the day ahead. In Xavier’s literature lectures, one could easily mistake the students to be flesh-eating, grumbling zombies who hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in a millennium.

However, as he looked around the room from his seat in the very back, the students filing in had almost cheshire grins on their faces, smiling eagerly at your buzzing figure and sitting up straight in their seats.

Peter’s eyes flitted back to you. The bell bottom jeans you were wearing were dark and fit you perfectly, the flare swishing around as you slowly paced around the room. For the first couple of minutes, he didn't hear a thing you were saying because the swaying was far too distracting.

His eyes trailed upwards. A faux shearling collared leather jacket hung off your frame, belt loose at the hem and clashing against your hip when you took a step. You looked like something straight out of the 60s: and Peter was totally diggin’ it.

The zip was undone, allowing a slither of your t-shirt underneath to show the letters “ardbi” peaking out in a red font. His heart leapt. The Yardbirds, nice, and fitting. Right this second Peter’s walkman hummed the tune of ‘Layla’ by Eric Clapton through his headphones. Quiet enough so he could hear your voice, but loud enough so his head could bop along to the instrumental. Shuffling in his seat, Peter adjusted his RUSH t-shirt, as if wanting him to catch your attention so you could strike up a conversation about it.

What would he say if you did? He needed to impress you, stat; before Scott could find you and chat you up with his extensive motorcycle knowledge that seemed to be all the rage nowadays. Pfft. RUSH was cooler anyways.

All in all, you didn't look like the stereotypical lecturer. Your outfit was far from professional attire, but it didn’t matter; the kids loved you.

Peter was addicted to all of you; from the browline glasses on your head to the Mary Janes on your feet. It was comforting.

"I know you’ve all been working so hard this past semester," you began, leaning against the podium casually, your arms folded as you eyed the students. "And the lovely gentleman that is Professor Xavier would never allow this, but I've decided we can allow ourselves a breath of fresh air and watch a film today."

Cheers and excited whispers rang out in the room as the students smiled impossibly harder, rushing to shove their textbooks into their bags so the film could start.

“Now hold on!” Your laugh graced Peter’s ears, holding your hands up to settle the class. “We haven’t yet discussed the film options! How do we feel about ‘Bobby deerfield’?”

Groans and scoffs resonated through the classroom, and a girl with pigtails a few rows in front of Peter spoke out. “You’re not kiddin’ anybody miss! Everybody knows that film is wack!”

You laughed and stood off the podium, moving towards the open window that was letting in a cold draft. “You know me too well, Jubilee. No one likes that film.” You bent over an empty desk to reach over, closing the window and turning the lock to the right “How about The Empire Strikes Back?”

In a moment of total stillness in the classroom, Peter let out a choked-off groan. Whether it was the sight of you bent over a desk or the mention of that god-tier film, he wasn’t all too sure.

Silence.

Peter knew he had royally embarrassed himself yet again when howls and giggles erupted in the classroom, some students convulsing in laughter and others wolf-whistling as you paused, turning to look back at him.

Jubilee turned around in her seat to stare at her PE teacher, ponytails swinging wildly as she covered her mouth with her hand and guffawed. Peter’s cheeks burned.

"Excited for the film are we, Mr Maximoff?" You quizzed, bemused.

Oh, you noticed too. Great. But you knew his name. Cool, less sarcastically speaking. You were both staff members of the same school so it wasn't that outlandish, but Peter’s stomach still flipped nonetheless.

"Yeh.. aha.. Erm- yunno Luke became a Jedi master in this film, right?" Peter blurted out instinctively, his thoughts in overload under your stare. He kissed his teeth and nodded his head in affirmation. “Pretty.. Pretty cool stuff.”

Congratulations, you thirty-somethin’ year old virgin. You have well and truly out-nerded yourself. This chick will certainly be beggin’ for you to burrow yourself between her thighs now.

Peter swallowed, waiting for someone to say something. Literally anything. All he was met with was muffled giggles and snorts echoing around him. He teaches people in this lecture, dim-wit! How were they gonna respect him and do laps in his classes now, O’ Jedi Master connoisseur?

You grinned sweetly, amused, silently waving your hand for your students to quieten down "Thank you for sharing that, Mr Maximoff, truly. Although I have seen this film before." You nodded in acknowledgement to his RUSH shirt and then returned your focus to the class before Peter could word vomit anything else.

You began to ramble on again. It made sense. Why would you pay attention to him when you had a job to do?

What could he do? Embarrass himself further by standing on his desk and demanding that you have a conversation that ends with you saying, 'Wow, Peter, you're so smart and fast and criminally handsome. Would you like to go to a record store so you can continue to impress me with the sheer amount of knowledge you have stored inside that adorable silver-haired noggin’ of yours?'

A mumble still traveled across the class, primarily because one of their teachers is a raging airhead, but you shushed them quickly by clapping your hands together. It was a casual movement, but one that got everyone's undivided attention again.

"Can anyone guess what year it came out?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the blur of a hand go up but you weren’t going to call on them, and so, Peter was left with his palm awkwardly facing towards the stage. You reiterated your question, "Can any of my students take a guess? Mr Maximoff, I'd appreciate it if you could give my class at least 2 minutes so they can discuss the answer."

Peter’s hand lowered slowly and he narrowed his eyes at the person snickering next to him.

“Don’t make me give yer extra laps next lesson, Christopher, the weather forecast ain’t lookin’ so good fer this Friday.”

Christopher abruptly stopped and faced back to you.

Once again, silence met your question until it was broken by a timid voice. A boy in the front row with curly brunette hair was looking at you unsure. You smiled encouragingly and nodded for him to speak up louder.

“1980?"

"Like always, Bobby, you are correct!" You exclaimed happily. Bobby blushed, embarrassed by the attention and compliment but smiling nonetheless as you moved on to another question. "The film came out in 1980. Does anyone know who it starred? Don’t be afraid to speak up!”

The film started soon after and for the entire time, Peter was completely transfixed by you. You leaned against the door and peered up at the projector screen, a smile on your face as you snuck a few handfuls of popcorn out of Bobby’s grasp as he watched the film intently. He now understood the enthusiastic compliments from the staff room, and why you were so loved by everyone. You were infectious.

He couldn't help himself, Peter found his eyes wandering over every part of your body, studying every inch of you before he'd had the chance to properly comprehend that he was being a creep. Appreciating beauty was one thing, leering at women he hadn't met before was another. Keep it in your pants, Maximoff.

As the students piled out of the lecture hall, all chatting loudly as they walked out, Peter waited. A group of girls surrounded you and asked you a bunch of questions, and you answered them all like you were their cool older sister rather than someone who was paid to teach them things. Then they left too, and you were alone.

"Did you enjoy the class, Mr Maximoff?" you asked kindly, a smile tugging at your lips as you turned around slightly. You sat on top of the nearest desk and folded your legs under yourself, resting your elbow on your knee and your head on your fist.

Blinking, Peter froze before nodding vigorously. So vigorous, in fact, that his goggles slid from his head down to the apex of his nose. He huffed in irritation and the exhaled breath fogged up his lenses completely. Peter bets he looks so irresistible right now.

Say something- think of something fast, moron! Isn’t that your whole gimmick? Impress her with your natural God-given charm!

Who are we kidding, this is Peter Maximoff. Master of the Jedi’s and embarrassing silences.

He wiped his goggles with the end of his shirt "I would think a music teacher would be lecturin’ about music, not films.. But yes, yer were- the film was.. very entertainin’."

Shit. Your lip twitched. Did he do somethin’ wrong? Of course he did- he just insulted a Professor’s lecturin’ to their face, ewok!

"You're a professor of...?"

"Err, I teach PE.. yunno.. I just make the kiddos run laps ‘n kick a ball around, basically." No shit, doofus! Maybe stop mansplainin’ what workin’ out is and apologize? “Fuck i’m so sorr-”

You cut him off with a simple wave of your hand, that gorgeous smile of yours decorating your face once again. “It’s alright, honest!” You say, observing his exasperated look as his mouth parts, ready to apologize “Jean told me that your mouth moves faster than your brain sometimes, I don’t take any offense to what you said.”

Peter sighs, relieved yet processing your words. “So, uh..” he hesitated, an awkward yet boastful smirk building then “Yer talk about me? All good things, I hope.”

You felt a heat rising to your face immediately and you looked around the room to avoid his intense stare, your eyes falling to another window you had yet to close. The cogs in your head turn and you whip around to face Peter, fanning yourself with your hand and beginning to shrug off your jacket. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” You faux panted, moving away from him to open the window like you needed a cold breeze.

Peter watched as you bent over, much closer now and able to see you from straight behind. His eyes grazed your body with a suggestive smirk.

“Just you, babe.”

Okay, babe?! Not helping your flushed state, at all!

You muffle your sputter by coughing, turning around once again and sitting on the desk. You watch as Peter walks up to you, standing close enough that his thighs force your legs a little wider around him.

The silence is unbearable, so you break it. “I mean, of course I've mentioned you once or twice, dude!” You chuckle nervously, “It’s hard to miss someone that looks like you speedin’ around the mansion.”

You register the confused shift in his gaze and now it’s your turn to run back on what you said, jumping in realization and your knee knocking into his trouser-clad outer thigh. “Not that you look weird in any way! I just meant the whole ‘silver’ aesthetic is totally bitchin’! And obviously I’ve heard about that whole Apocalypse fiasco in ‘84. It was really brave, what you did, and I can’t help but thank you for savin’ the whole world.. and whatever..”

You trail off as you babble yourself into a frenzy, Peter’s delighted grin humiliating you further as he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Thanks, babe.” You let out a shuddery breath. Again?! Where was this confidence when he was making a fool out of himself not just a minute ago?

Peter gave in at your pleading gaze and stepped back, a sheepish smile on his face as he looked down to the floor, shoving his hands into his pockets. He swayed back and forth on his heels. “I better go anyway. Places to be, worlds to save.. Y’know how it is, babe.” The uneasiness on his features left as soon as it came, now replaced with a cocky smirk and a sly wink.

“Well, if you come back in one piece, maybe we could, I dunno, go out for a movie or somethin’?” You ask apprehensively “since you seem to like Star Wars so much.”

“Y-yeah!” Peter said almost too quickly, clearing his throat before gathering his thoughts and masking the elated grin battling to appear. “I mean, only if yer gonna be makin’ that lasagna, right?” He quipped, stomach rumbling at the thought.

You nodded in answer, grinning. “Just come stop by whenever you’re free and we’ll figure out a date, yeah?” Your eyes widened. “I mean date as in time!”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows again, speeding to the door and saluting you before making his way to the training room, fistbumping the air. Fuckin’ score!

For the remainder of the day, Peter couldn’t keep his mind off of you and the promised movie date you were set to have after his mission, uncontrollably vibrating in excitement whilst boarding the X-jet the day after.

“Promise me you’ll stay safe, yeah?” You ask him, standing on the runway as you smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform, your palm flat on his chest.

A broad grin spread across Peter’s face as he placed his own hand above yours, running his thumb smoothly over your skin.

“Don’t worry about little ol’ me, ‘kay? A promise is a promise, sweet-cheeks.”

——————————————————————————

Peter’s not a jackass. He would never intentionally go back on his word.

But that was a pretty damn hard promise to fulfill.

As soon as the jet landed four hours too late, Peter crashed into the living room couch, ignoring any questions of passers by for medical assistance. He practically melted into the linen cushions, exhaling deeply.

The kid previously sitting on the couch scowled as Peter stretched himself across the furniture, waving the younger student off with his hand. “I’m an Xman, I have the authority here.” The cushions muffled Peter’s grumble.

All in all, he wasn’t that hurt. In reality, the mission was fairly easy-going. Peter was barrelling through an evacuated suburban village, rescuing any stragglers that had found themselves lost or stuck under rubble, whilst the other Xmen dealt with arresting the rogue mutant. Blurs of grays and browns passed him at rapid speed as he did one last sweep of the area, confident in the fact that all people had been safely vacated.

Leaning onto a particularly large mound of debris, Peter swung his leg in boredom, waiting on Charles to give him the go-ahead to start the X-jet back to the mansion. The wind picked up, sending his tufts of hair back and away from his forehead.

Abruptly, a flurry of white flew into the air, startling Peter as he whipped around, ready to attack.

The sight wasn’t as menacing as he thought, though. Small seeds dispersed across the terrain, each carrying a bundle of fluffy white bristles in its wake. He looked down to the sparse grass and was met with a patch of green stems, like a blossom without its petals. Peters brows furrow. What a funny lookin’ flower.

Crouching down, Peter plucks the base of a stem with all its remaining puffballs, cupping his hand in the direction of the wind so it wouldn’t fly away. He grinned, standing up again and inspecting it. It looked peculiar, and rather outlandish. Just his style.

He was halfway through tucking the flower carefully into his back pocket before something slammed into him, sending Peter tumbling into a jagged pile of rubble and fragments of serrated wood.

Motherfucker! He groaned, feeling a searing pain shoot through his stomach. A pile of dust shot up into the air almost comically, leaving a tangy taste on his tongue. Bleh. With feeble limbs, Peter lifted himself onto his elbows, looking down from his cracked goggles to shakily unzip his uniform halfway, revealing a hefty patch of crimson fluid staining his white undershirt. Scraps of wreckage tore holes through the fabric, revealing shallowish wounds littering his chest and stomach. Fuck!

Peter blinked slowly, turning his gaze to try and detect who or what had struck him. Just to the right of his aching body, a sizable slab of concrete stuck out of the ground, that had presumably collapsed from a nearby building.

How fuckin’ embarrasin’! Peter was probably gonna scar from this incident, and he would have to tell people the ‘heroic’ tale of how it went down? That he was assaulted by a chunk of rock? The students barely respected him from the whole classroom debacle with you the day prior; how were they ever gonna treat him with high regard now?

That’s right. You. How were you gonna react when he tells you? ‘Oh, How am i doin’, sweetcheeks? Thank yer for askin’, i got a real wild story fer these battle scars. What was it, ya ask? Hand-to-hand combat with buildin’ material. Sexy, right?’

Yeah, no. He had already embarrassed himself enough around you.

Once he had been strapped back into his seat, with the help of Hank, Peter now had to endure two hours of throbbing pain, and Scott giggling next to him.

Peter slumped into his seat, whining into his dust-cracked hands. “What the fuck am I gunna tell her, man? I can’t keep on embarrassin’ myself like this!”

“Don’t worry too much, dude, you’ll forget about this in no time.” Scott assured, smiling and placing a hand on his shoulder, before screwing his face up and wiping the dust frantically on his sleeve. Peter hummed, albeit confused. When was Scott ever the one to give Peter actual reassurance?

“All in all, it’s just another brick in the wall, man.” Ah, there it was. Peter slowly turned to face Scott, deadpanning and watching the boy’s shoulders shake from silent laughter.

Scott shrieked as Peter shook his head like a wet dog, showering his best friend in a flurry of dust.

Once the flight had come to a halt, Peter limped through the mansion's corridors, hobbling to the living room couch as he was in too much pain to climb the few flights of stairs to his room.

Peter grumbled into the couch, eyes hooded as he melted into the material, ready to fall asleep.

And then you came barreling into the room. Peter sat up as you rushed into the room, nudging him into the back of the couch and placing your knees either side of his quivering hips, clutching his face. Peter really wished he had showered now.

“Take off your shirt.” Come again? Were Peter’s wounds making him hallucinate some filthy apparatition?

He blinked. “Eh?”

“When did you get back? No one told me you got back and I've been worried like crazy. You were four hours late, Peter!” You stressed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide. “Kurt told me you were injured! Did the mutant hurt you? He said you went flyin’ into rubble and practically got impaled!”

You were speaking in such quick succession that it had impressed Peter by your pace. He merely blinked once more, too caught up with your smooth hands against his cheeks and your frantic words. You were worried about him?

“I’m fine, babe.”

You glance down to his stomach, however you couldn’t see much of anything due to the dark hue of his uniform. “I can’t believe you were impal-”

“Not that I don't appreciate yer concern fer me babe, but 'm fine.” You glared at him “Honest! It’s just a few scrapes. Nothin’ i can’t handle.” he grinned, attempting to ease you up a little.

Despite Peter’s best efforts, you still seem just as on edge as before. Taking your hands off his cheeks, he whined at the loss of warmth, chasing your touch. Instead, you reach down to grasp hold of the zipper at the top of his ensemble, zipping it down to just above his hips. His mouth makes a small ‘o’ before contorting into a lazy smirk, glancing up at you.

“Easy there, tiger.”

A glimpse of his stained undershirt tells you all you need to know. You meet his gaze anxiously as Peter gives you a guilty grin, shrugging his shoulders at being called out. “Okay, maybe it’s slightly worse than i let on but-”

“Take your shirt off.” You urge imperatively, and he flushes.

“I dunno babe, I'm like, supeerrr sore. I don't think I can do it by myself, yer gonna have to help me.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. It was blatantly obvious Peter was flirting, any common idiot could tell. But he looked pretty beaten up, and you were mostly sure that moving him around too much would not feel too great for the speedster, so you obliged.

You lift his shirt up in gradual intervals, keeping your focus on the garment as he grins straight at you, clearly wanting to catch you peeking a glance at his body.

“Normally I'd be buyin’ yer dinner before showin’ off the goods… but-” Peter cuts off as you peel the shirt away from one particularly deep wound, the skin sticking to the material. You whisper apologies, lifting the shirt off his head and discarding it to the side. You glanced back down.

Peter noticed your blatant staring and looked up at you, tilting his head to the side. "So are you goin’ ter look me up and down like that ‘er are yer gunna patch me up?"

“Shush, ‘m not looking at you like anythin’!”

“Mhm, sure yer weren’t sugar.” He beamed. You redden, his thoughts transmitting like a beacon through his facial expression.

“Dont make this sexual..” You mutter, avoiding his gaze as you look around for the medkit you brought with you. Peter follows your movements with his gaze, head leaning back to rest of the edge of the couch whilst you shuffled about the room.

“Now what fun would that be, hm? Can’t I enjoy some attention from a beautiful woman like you?”

With the supplies you return to your earlier position, standing over his shirtless body and desperately trying to keep your thoughts at bay.

Finally taking a closer glance, you see his wounds, shallow, but littering his stomach and chest. There was a fairly large but not too serious cut on the right side of his abs and you lightly gasp, your fingertips reaching for it. “Can I touch you?”

Peter groaned “Ooh, yer can touch me anywhere yer want sugar.”

Choosing to ignore him, you open the first aid box with a satisfying click, taking out a roll of bandages, cotton pads and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, placing it down on the couch next to you. As you do so Peter takes a deep breath, letting him savor the scent of your perfume before the alcohol’s smell eclipsed it.

“So are ya my nurse now?” Peter observes “Kinky. Didn't know yer were into roleplay, but i'm not gonna lie, im kinda diggin’ it babe.”

You choke, smacking his arm. Too far, maximoff.

Peter winces, “Hey! Do ya hit all yer patients? This is medical malpractice right here! I was just sayin- this is like the start to every porno ive ever see-” he hisses as you press down the alcohol soaked cotton pad on his wound.

“Sorry, this may sting a little.” you say half apologetically.

“Well it don't mean anythin’ if yer warn me after, babe!” He whimpers, reaching to grab your hips for support from your position above him. You suppress the urge to rut into his lap, continuing your cleaning as you feel an onslaught of slick ooze from your core. You tried to keep in the sigh, but it fell so easily from your mouth at his touch.

“Ouch. Ow. Ow, ow oW OW!! Babe?! Does the word ow mean anythin’ to yer? Ye- agh-OW!” Peter shrieks, and you wince at the voice crack “Jesus christ! Who taught yer how to tend to people’s injuries? A construction worker with a jackhammer? OW!”

Despite his clear pain you stifle a laugh, swiping more gently this time. “It’s all part of the process, Peter. I’m trying to help you here.”

“Oh really? Are yer tryna help me or finish the fuckin’ job, babe?!”

A moment of tranquility passes, and just before you think Peter will stay quiet and let you get on with your work his voice drops, a sultry tone now teasing your ears. “I've got ter say babe.. when I pictured ya with yer hands roamin’ my chest, the wound was conspicuously absent.” You failed to keep in your reaction this time, a shuddery whimper leaving your mouth as you tense. Peter bites his lip, grin impossibly wide and his hands snaking around your hips.

You feel him pull you in closer and you oblige, facing him as you sit down onto his lower thighs as carefully as you can, not wanting to cause him any further strain. He grins.

“Okay, one more cut to clean and I'm done, yes? Then you can be bandaged up.” Clearing your throat, you await his response.

Peter inhales, screwing his eyes shut in preparation “M’kay, ‘m ready. Jus- FUCK.” You press the cotton ball onto his wound, watching as his muscles tense up and he grips onto your hips for support. Chewing on his lip in anguish, his head throws back once more. You refrain from looking at his adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.

His tight grip on your hips loosen after a minute and you hum, proceeding to unravel the bandages and wrap them around his torso.

Peter looks at you seriously for a moment, breaking the silence in a much more apologetic way this time. “ ‘M Sorry about blowin’ the whole movie thing, I know yer wanted to go out after i got back.. I guess this will have to be our version of a first date, huh?” He chuckles half heartedly, but his eyes oozed regret and mourning for your date to the theatre.

You move a slither of hair out of his eyes, smiling. “I don't mind either way, we could always go out another time, yeah? And no one predicted you were gonna get hurt like that, it’s not your fault, Peter.”

“Yeah, thanks babe.” your heart clenches as his dimples show through his toothy smile.

Clearing his throat, Peter’s large hands splayed across the small of your back, sliding you from his lower thighs to be flush against his crotch. He grins cheekily as you gasp, feeling his semi hard cock through the soft material of his unzipped uniform.

Hands laying to rest on his bare shoulders, you smooth your thumb over his collarbone. You move your other hand down from his left shoulder, your fingertips grazing down his arm before reaching his hand. Gently coaxing his grasp away from your hip, you interlace your fingers, clasping them together as his other hand frames your jaw.

“Hey.. uh, I think I might have a little scratch up here on my lip. I don't s’pose yer would be interested in checkin’ it out, doc?” Peter’s sweet, chocolate browns shed a spicier shade when he captures your gaze.

Your body answers before you can talk, tongue wetting your lips, leaving him in suspense for a moment.

You faux sigh in thought, “I guess I can’t leave a patient suffering. It would be medical malpractice, and I always make sure my patient gets the care he deserves.”

Peter’s eyes dilate then, and you begin to question whether or not he was joking about the roleplay kink. Alas, you had no more time to ponder as he didn’t waste a single second, bumping your nose against his before seizing your lips.

Kissing him sensually, your tongue swims smoothly against his as you move to scrape your fingers across his scalp. Whining in response, Peter’s head lolls back at the stimuli as you nibble his lower lip. You could feel Peter’s cock twitch and you grind slowly against it, eliciting a filthy moan from his mouth into yours.

As you swallow and get over the initial wave of adrenaline, a bitter and rather tangy taste invades your mouth, forcing you to pull back as Peter chases your lips. You place a hand to his chest, breathing hard and scrunching your face up. “Bleh!”

Peter’s half lidded gaze snaps back open as he observes your clear disgust, swiping his tongue over his own lips in questioning. “Uh- yer.. yer alright over there? I know ‘m sorta outta practise but-“

You swipe your thumb over your lips, noticing a few specks of dust covering them. Peter notices and brings a hand to his forehead, slapping himself at his idiocy.

“Shit! Sorry, babe. I totally just crashed here when i got back, forgot about the whole.. grime situation.” Peter grimaces, cursing himself under his breath, “Way to kill the fuckin’ mood, Maximoff.”

To his surprise, you only lean in closer, batting your eyelashes at him. “Patients have to be clean before assessments can begin. Standard procedure. I hope you don’t mind if I scrub you down?”

Your sultry voice forces a heat to pool in Peter’s belly, and he chokes on his own groan, pupils dilating further.

Fwip. You don’t even get the chance to scooch off his lap before Peter had you in his bathroom, shirtless and with his navy uniform dangling around his v-line. Another Fwip and Peter turned on the shower before pulling your back against his chest, tugging at your t-shirt as a silent plea of desperation and unbridled horniness.

Your mouth parts as his head dips into your shoulder. You swore you could hear the faintest of whimpers leave his mouth as he tenderly kisses your clothed shoulder, his lips humming small vibrations of aroused distress.

What choice did you have but to comply?

As you turned around, undressing yourself before him, Peter’s eyes drunk you in, his eyebrows twitching and his teeth sinking into his lip at your little strip show. Down to the last few articles of clothing, you removed your underwear slowly, a thread of wetness connecting your pussy with the soaked fabric.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered, his hands quivering as you then slung your t-shirt somewhere around the room, eager to surge forward and grasp at every part of your body.

You smiled, flattered yet unsure of what to do, your eyes too preoccupied with Peter’s uniform, of which was slowly sliding down his hips, revealing the black band of his underwear.

“So.. nurse, I think 'm ready fer my physical.” Peter chuckled, observing proudly as your breathing sped up rapidly, gazing at his torso.

“Need any help undressing?” You asked, motioning to his bandaged chest and bruised arms. “It must be sore.”

“Yes please, nurse.” Peter replied flirtatiously, maintaining his character as patient. You stalk over to him, getting on your knees as you start pulling his uniform and boxers down as slowly as possible without Peter getting frustrated. As you do so, you notice his painfully hard dick slapping upwards from its confines. Smiling, you innocently glance up at Peter’s blushing state, inching forward as if you were about to…

Peter’s cock twitched and he gasped as you surged forward, only to completely pass where he needed you most as you teasingly peck the inside of his thigh, eyes still boring into his own.

“C’mon babe.. That ain’t playin’ fair.” A mix between a whine and a growl left Peter’s throat as you stood up to face his pleading eyes. Taking his face in your palms, your soft lips tease him by brushing against his lips, but not yet giving in to kissing him.

“I think It’s best if I check your temperature orally first.” You mumble. Capturing his lips roughly, your kiss turns into a wet, dueling passion. As you battle for dominance, Peter kicks off the clothing pooling around his ankles, guiding you backwards and into the awaiting shower.

Hot water cascades over you as he pulls you close again, diving in for another heated kiss that you’re all too eager to return.

You have no idea how long your tongues swirl around one another, but eventually a hand grips your wrist and tugs you away. You go easily, and when you look up at Peter, he grins giddily and places a bar of soap in your hands. You lick your lips, this time no longer unwelcomed by the taste of dust and plastering, but of Peter.

The room becomes stuffy as the water from the shower starts to get hot. You sigh as the hot water caresses your skin, or maybe it was from Peter running his hands over your body. They stop on your breasts before gently squeezing them, looking down at you with a dopey grin. You throw your head back as the water runs over your chest.

As Peter prodded and squeezed your tits like they were some new gadget you began the slow, worshipful task of running your soapy hands across his chest, making sure to leave the bandaged areas alone.

"I would really appreciate it if you communicated every ache, any pain that needs tendin’ to, sir." You say, moving to whisper the words in his ear sweetly, the filthy undertones dripping from your tongue.

Peter pauses briefly before managing to regain control over himself, grabbing your arm and pulling you impossibly close. He nuzzles into your neck as he whispers back in a playful manner. "I've got one in a specific place. Maybe yer could help me by usin’ those magic hands of yours, doc?"

"Mhh, or do you need me to kiss it better, Peter?" You tease, licking your bottom lip suggestively before biting the plump flesh with a wink.

Peter’s face turns into a huge blush and his heartbeat starts accelerating even more as he watches you move in close, staring into his eyes. His mind goes absolutely blank and he can only stare at you in shock. His breathing becomes heavier as he looks at your lips and how you bite them; and with that a strange flurry of stammers leave his mouth.

“Nghnaawhaaaaat?”

"Peter? Can you show me where it hurts, honey?" You continue to tease him with a pout. God, you were such a fuckin’ brat.

He can't help but feel both embarrassed and surprised at how forward your question is. He clears his throat "Uh... R-Right here, doll..." He says in a nervous manner as his blush deepens even more, then he points at his twitching cock. You follow his line of sight and smile, watching as beads of pre-cum drizzle out of his tip.

"Aww, poor baby. How long has it been hurting?" You furrow your brows, a mischievous look in your eyes as you place your hands on his chest, traveling downwards.

Peter looks at you with a shocked expression for the fifth time that night, tilting his head much like a puppy as he watches you in awe.

Shiit... Are you really doing this? It’s a good thing you didn’t fully embrace the doctor-patient performance with a stethoscope and all, because you’d certainly be worrying about the freakishly-fast roadrunner beat Peter’s heart was jammin’ to. Fuck.

"Do you want me to kiss it better, baby?" You quiz sweetly.

Peter starts to feel his breath getting heavier as his heart is racing faster, wayy too fuckin’ fast. "Ah... Y-Yeah..." He replies softly, still feeling his face turn into a brighter red as he slowly nods.

Every nerve in his body went on high alert as Peter watched your fingers close around his aching cock and move over the swollen flesh. A tortured gasp escaped his lips, and he threw his head back against the shower wall, panting; it felt so good, your smooth palm creating a delicious friction. He thrust forward into your hand, wanting you to continue, his shame at being naked and aroused gone entirely.

Your face was still close. Close enough to observe his face, fascinated at the raw sensuality flickering across it. Drops of water freckled Peter’s cheeks and forehead; you weren't sure if it was the spray from the shower or his own sweat. His mouth was open slightly, and his rough breathing was causing yours to speed up as well. You smoothed your hand back down his wet length and drew the other hand down to cup his balls.

Peter hissed loudly and pushed his hips forward again, cursing. You couldn't tear your eyes from his profile; he was flushed, his lips dusky and moist, the silver of his eyelashes standing out against his fevered cheek. Simply delectable, and you wanted to have a taste.

The touch of your lips on his neck brought Peter to the surface as you pressed your breasts to his chest, your lips everywhere. They ghosted over his collarbone, shoulder, neck and jaw before closing over his earlobe. He moaned, turning, seeking out your lips.

Peter's eyes opened as you released your hands from him. In no time Peter had locked lips with you once more, in a clash of teeth and moisture; whether it was spit or water you weren’t entirely sure. He raised his hands to your breasts at the same time your tongue parted the seam of his lips, and the two of you moaned together before fusing your open mouths.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Peter ground the raised centers of your nipples into his large palms, then rubbed a thumb over each in rhythm. Your initial intentions were to tease the ever-loving shit out of the speedster, but you couldn’t but melt into a puddle at his tender touches.

Peter’s erection was pressing into your belly, hard as steel. You ground against it, wanting it lower and inside, quickly losing your intention to mess around. Abruptly breaking the kiss to breathe, you quirked an eyebrow at Peter. "So, have you made up your mind?"

"Wha-?" He was adorably confused, his pupils dilated in the shadowy light. You grinned and reached between yourselves to stroke along his cock lightly, picking up the trickle of pre-cum on his cockhead and rubbing it around the smooth, ragingly red area.

Lightly pushing Peter back under the full spray, you sank to your knees in front of him. Handling him gently, you sucked the tip of him into your mouth, savoring the much nicer tangy sensataaion.

"Oh Fuck," The speedster moaned on a sharp inhalation of breath. This was progressing past the realm of sweaty-palm fantasies and straight into the embodiment of every pornographic dream he'd ever had; only those dreams had never felt quite so hot.

Your mouth was liquid fire over him, your tongue circling and teasing, making him grow even larger.

He resisted the urge to grab your head and thrust into your mouth like he had seen in the pornos, giving you free reign over his pleasure. Instead Peter coursed his hands through your damp hair, giving you wordless pats of praise when you traced up a particularly sensitive vein.

Already weak at the knees from your mouth, Peter nearly shot when he looked down and caught you watching him with feverish eyes. The image was so blatantly erotic, he couldn't help but complete it by curling his fingers deeper into your hair.

The slight jerk of his hands on your scalp told you that Peter was close to going completely out of control. His slight grunt and increased participation, in turn, increased your enthusiasm. Releasing your grip around the base of his cock, you tried to take him deeper. This you had tried before with varying amounts of success, usually gagging as the overzealous recipient tried to choke you.

However, with an untried Peter, you were having a great deal more success with the technique.

After figuring out how to time your breathing with the motions, you crept forward and began in earnest, taking Peter in until your nose touched his silvery pubic hair. His hands tightened again, and this time his whimper of pleasure was louder, needier.

He was so close, water pounding his chest, blood pounding in his ears, lips, tongue and friction at the center of it all.

Nearly mindless now, searching for that sweet release, Peter thrust forward a bit, searching for the movement that would send him over the edge. When he encountered no resistance from you, he thrust his hips in rhythm with your mouth until he could take no more.

You could feel Peter's flesh tightening and knew he was ready to blow a load. He tried to push you away before he let go, but you gripped the back of his thighs tightly and sucked hard, an explosion of cum shooting down your throat and tongue.

You gagged a little when the first stream hit the back of your throat, but you recovered enough to hear the incoherent whines Peter made. Another grunt escaped from him as you rubbed your soft tongue over the underside of his dick, moving over the pulsating veins there.

It was all Peter could do to keep from crumpling as he shot harder than he ever had in his life, knees weak from the sheer force of it.

If you hadn't been there to maintain the grip on his legs, he would have melted into a pile of jelly at your knees.

Once you had ridden out his orgasm and released him you stood back up, pushing back the soaken strands of hair that hung off his forehead. Peter grinned, chest heaving as he watched your tongue come out, licking a spot of his release you had missed on your lip.

“Feeling any better, sir?”

Again, Peter felt tongue-tied. He wasn't sure what to say or do. Even though he'd had the most soul-sucking orgasm of his life, his dick was still half-hard. Typical speedster sex drive.

The water was still hot, yet wouldn’t be lasting for much longer. He had to make this count.

Your breasts brushed his chest again when Peter leaned in to capture your lips with his. A slight squeak of surprise escaped you when he separated the seam of your lips with his tongue and pushed forward aggressively. Your tongues duelled, battling for position. Peter could taste the musky odor of his own arousal on your lips, strangely exotic. His hands were tender when he lifted the weight of your breasts in his hold.

Nothing in his fantasies matched the feel of your nipples as he circled over them. Softly puckered flesh dragged under the smooth calluses of his thumbs, causing you to moan softly and push your torso against his.

Straightening up, Peter grasped your waist tightly and with a smirk, swiftly spun you around, pushing you forward into the shower wall.

You let out a hiss as your nipples came in contact with the cold tiles, them becoming painfully hard. Peter gently pushed your hair aside before placing a chaste kiss on your neck; you moved your head to the side, allowing him better access.

Peter rested his forehead between your shoulder blades as the water ran down his back. He took a deep breath in, trailing a hand down your back before pulling back and slapping your ass. The loud moan that fell from your lips made him chuckle, "You've done yer job doc, now yer need payment.”

You nodded your head as you whimpered, feeling yourself become more and more turned on and unbelievably wet. You feel Peter’s tip rubbing your folds, spreading your moisture around as you whimper in anticipation.

You looked back over your shoulder to Peter glancing down at where you two meet. Raising an eyebrow, you went to say something but Peter's quick thrust into you made all the air in your lungs escape. You were wet enough that it didn’t hurt, but the delicious stretch it provided you made your eyes roll back into your head.

Hands slipping as you try to hold onto something, your breasts bounce into the wall as you whimper, legs spreading further so Peter could fully enter you.

Without stopping and with a thoughtful hum, Peter reached up towards the detachable shower head and flicked the setting to a steady stream of fast water, pulling it down.

You could hear him doing something and looked back over your shoulder to see him messing with the shower head, "Are you about to-" You let out a cry as you felt the pressure from the water on your clit, "Shi- shit! Peter!" The pleasure making your eyes roll back.

You attempt to snap your thighs shut, trying to escape the intense pressure on your bundle of nerves. Peter, however, had other plans as he huffs breathlessly, lips dragging up the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips at your ear, using a free hand to spread your legs apart.

“Yer need to keep ‘em spread for me. Y-yer can do that fer me, can’t ya, babe?” He grunts into your ear. You whimper, nodding.

“That’s a- f-fuck.. good girl.”

In a carnal rage, a clatter sounds as Peter drops the shower head, gripping your hips with both hands as he fucks up into you, leaning his bodyweight onto yours to give him more leverage. The faster he fucked into you, the faster the feeling of your climax crested. This one felt different, more intense, and you both knew it.

You make a pitiful noise, again and again as Peter drives his cock into your cunt, hitting your G-spot every single time.

“Therrre she is. Is that it, yeah? That spot feel good, honey?” You could feel Peter’s grin against your throat. “Yer squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight. Can yer hear that?”

The slick sounds of his cock fucking into you was loud over your pants for air, and you nodded weakly. You felt slick and pre-cum run down your thighs as Peter moved in and out of your heat in rapid succession, much like an animal in heat. "I think yer might even squirt fer me, doc.”

A shuddered moan fell from your lips before you agree. Sharp, white hot pleasure tore through your body, from head to toe, and you keened as Peter forced himself deeper. "Yer pushin' me out, babe-lemme in, need to feel it," he moaned. "Fuck, yer so pretty; that's it, that- Fuck!"

You felt the dampness of your thighs before you could comprehend the heightened pleasure, and you glanced down to watch Peter’s lower half become soaked from your climax. "Oh-" You turned your head as much as you could to face him, eyes half lidded.

From his position behind you, Peter crashed his lips to yours and forced his tongue into your mouth, fucking it languidly while his hips stuttered in their rhythm. You panted as he pulled back, his breath fanning over your spit-slick lips.

"I need ter cum, baby-" he pleaded, thrusting deeper.

"Please, please-lemme cum in-"

"Yes," you rasped, nodding. “Please- i need you to cum in me so bad-”

Peter groaned and shuddered. He lowered his head to your shoulder and rested his forehead on vour collarbone. You could hear him panting over the slapping of skin and slick noises of his cock in your cunt, and you matched his thrusts in an attempt to bring him closer to the edge.

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. Each thrust sent a shock of pleasure curling up your spine, but you brushed it off, intent on making Peter cum - you squeezed around him and circled your hips. The whimpery noises he makes only make you clench harder, wrapping him in a vice you never want to let go of.

Suddenly, the hot spray of water turns cold and you gasp, arching your back and clamping yourself down on Peter’s cock with all the strength you could muster, tipping him over the edge.

“I-ngh.. Shit!” Peter panted and his hips faltered, a warmth soon blooming in your cunt, filling you up to the brim and leaking out of your quivering body.

The slow, rocking rhythm Peter set with his hips soothed you, bringing you slowly down from your high while he descended from his. "Fuckin' hell, babe," he murmured, and he kissed you on the lips, then the forehead.

The room is full of the scent of arousal, and it makes you feel high up in the clouds, filling your head with the syrupy-sweet fuzziness of speedy contentment.

You must have zoned out for a little bit, because the next thing you’re aware of is the sound of the shower being turned off, and strong yet shaking arms scooping you up off your feet. You were deposited outside the walls of the shower, and then a soft towel is being worked around your body, collecting the droplets of water falling off your hair and frame.

"Let's get yer warmed up, babe."

Before long, you’re bundled up in a bathrobe, hair perfectly brushed out, and being placed gently onto the couch you had been making out with Peter on not too long ago. The volume of the TV had been lowered, allowing you to hear Peter's soft mumblings of praise in your hair as he lays below you, arms cradling you to his chest. His sweatpants feel comfy against your bare legs, and your palms rest on the cotton of his white t-shirt he had changed into.

“Can we watch The Empire Strikes Back?” Peter murmurs into your hair, making you grin as it takes you back to the day you met him in the auditorium. Humming contently, you fish your hand down the side of the sofa in search of the tv remote. You furrow your brows however as you feel something rather furry brush against your fingertips.

Pinching it between your two fingers you pluck it out of the couch, inspecting the small… seed?

Peter’s eyes follow your gaze as he gasps softly in remembrance, craning his head to the side to see an abundance of dandelion seeds littering the couch. Peter frowned. He had forgotten about the strange flower he had plucked due to the abrupt slab of concrete disrupting his day. The seedlings must have fallen out of his uniform when you were tending to his wounds.

“Shit! That was meant ter be a surprise, babe.” Peter frowned sulkily, plucking the puffball from your fingertips. “I found these weird lookin’ flowers on the mission and wanted to show them to yer. Thought i discovered a new species er somethin’.”

Despite your heart warming at the kind yet failed gesture, you laughed. “Peter, honey, they’re dandelions. Weeds.” You grinned, watching as his mouth forms an ‘o’ in realization.

“But.. at least they’re rare, right?”

You thin your lips out into a line whilst shaking your head, trying not to laugh as the speedster groans, throwing his head back.

“Ugh, I could’ve totally avoided that wall if it weren’t fer these fuckin’ things,” Peter drops the dandelion seed, letting it float to the polished wooden floor. “All that fer nothin’!”

You snuggle further against him, grazing around his bandages with a confused expression. “I do appreciate the gesture, but I thought you got these from the fight? Not from.. A wall?” You appear more perplexed as you try to imagine the scenario. “Did you.. run into it or somethin’?”

Peter sighed. Another point to add too his ‘you royally suck, dude!’ tally chart. How many times had he embarrassed himself before you now, five?

“No, it-” He grimaced “-it slammed into me.” He watched as you squinted your eyes, picturing how it went down. “Don’t fret though, babe, I totally showed it who’s boss. Knocked some sense into it.” He grinned, stroking your drying hair.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” You grin, tracing further down the trail of wounds and scratches. “Seems like it knocked more sense into you, though.”

Peter scoffed, waving his hand in dismissal before looking down at you, smiling lopsidedly. “Do I get a lolly fer bein’ so brave, doc?”

He smirks at your flushed expression and you still for a moment, before reaching into your bathrobe pocket and pulling out the panties you had strewn across the bathroom earlier. Peter's eyes widen.

“Here, take these.” You say simply, lazily dropping the material into his hand. Peter beams, face dusted pink. He’ll find some use for those, you’re sure. It won’t be a surprise if you find them framed up in his room, next to his Greta Van Fleet poster.

The next morning you change, treading down the corridor into the living room. Scott is slung across the sofa’s armrest watching the news as Jean sits on the other end by his socked feet, reading a book. Kurt and Ororo share a large armchair nearby, also watching the TV as Peter leans against a wall, sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Not like he needs it anyway.

As you walk in Peter raises his mug at you, nodding and grinning toothily as you greet him back. You silently hope he hadn’t mentioned the prior events to the others.

You ask Scott to turn the volume up and he groans tardily, reaching down the back of the sofa to fish for the remote. You go into shock, however, when he furrows his brows, pulling out a lacy pair of underwear instead. Your underwear.

Scott holds them up in the air with his index finger and thumb, flushing wildly and looking around the room in search of answers. Jean lowers her book, giving you a disapproved stare before continuing her new read of the day. Ororo squeals in laughter and Kurt goes a deep shade of bluey purple, his gaze anywhere but your panties.

“Well, what do we have here?” You could hear the smugness through Scott’s voice as you look wildly across the room to Peter. He only hums, as if in question, no doubt reminiscing on the memories of last night as he sips his coffee, pleased.

You meet his eyes, desperately searching for something to say as he winks at you, strolling up behind the couch to inspect your underwear like he didn’t know whose they were.

Sighing in relief, you thought you were going to get away with it, the embarrassment slowly ebbing out of your head; that was until Peter’s voice piped up.

“Babe, I swear those are your panties, right?”

Okay, maybe Peter was a little bit of a jackass.

#peter maximoff #evan peters #quicksilver #xmen #evan peters masterlist #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff smut #quicksilver smut #xmen peter maximoff #evan peters x reader

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bellarkeselection · 1 year

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🥺👉👈 Charles Xavier x fem reader takes place during Charles rehabilitation after Cuba reader is there to help him heal and adjust to his new life and shows Charles they can still do all the things they did together before the accident and when he gets out of the hospital they go on a real date 🤍

Thank you anonymous. I have been absolutely missing writing for Charles ❤️

You Can't Get Rid Of Me Xavier

Knocking on the door to the hospital room of my boyfriend Charles Xavier he had been talking with the doctors about the bullet that hit his back. It was a miracle in his eyes that he and I had managed to make it this far. A human and a mutant as a couple. He spoke that it was a sign of hope for the future. "Hank, can I talk with him alone for a little bit?" I asked the scientist who nodded leaving me alone with my boyfriend. Charles was laid down in the hospital bed avoiding my gaze and just staring down at his legs underneath the blankets. Moving to the side of his bed I sat down grasping his right hand in mine where he finally looked at me when I called his name. "Charles, tell me what the doctors said. Is everything okay. Because Hank won't tell me anything. He's just going to sign your release papers." His blue eyes locked onto my gaze where I saw tears slipping down while his voice cracked when he spoke under his breath. “I lost them, Y/n. My legs…it paralyzed me from the waist down.”

“Oh Charles. I…I’m so sorry. I…I am going to be here for you no matter.” Squeezing his hand in mine I felt him yank it away shifting where I was looking at his back when he huffed under his breath struggling to not break down and cry in front of me. “You don’t have to say that Y/n. I know that this won’t work between us. We can’t last not now - you should just leave me with Hank.” Shuttering in a breath it broke my heart to hear him talk like that. I could instantly tell that what happened on the beach in Cuba had broken him. He went there with such hope and now he was completely broken. Without thinking I climbed behind him on the bed wrapping my arms around his waist burying my face into his neck mumbling. "I'm not going anywhere, Charles." The truth was if he really wanted me to leave then he would have used his power. Even though he promised me he would never take advantage of me.

The young professor shifted where he could look me in the eye but remained laying down on my back. His eyes shifted over my face entering my mind when I closed my eyes hearing his voice. "I'm not the man I was when I left. I can't treat you the way I did...show you the love that you deserve. I'm just broken now. So just leave." Moving my freehand up I ran my fingers through his messy brown locks. He sniffed back tears when I leaned forward resting my forehead against his. "Charles Xavier, listen to me. I am not going anywhere because I love you. I feel utterly and completely in love with you by who you are. It was way before you told me you were a mutant and I don't care if you don't think you deserve me. Because you do. You aren't broken to me." Getting to my feet I grabbed a wheelchair from the hallway coming back into his room. "And I'm going to prove it to you that we can still do the things we did before."

Hank came back inside with the papers helping me get him into the wheelchair where I took the car keys from his pocket driving towards the park we liked going to near his house in Winchester. Moving around the car I managed to get him back in the wheelchair where he slumped his shoulders in defeat. "Y/n, I love that you think we can still do our normal dates but-" I cut him off pressing a soft kiss to his lips before covering his eyes with me taking a seat on his lap when I turned the chair to face a sunset that we enjoyed watching here. "No matter what happens, Xavier. You ain't getting rid of me. Because I'm not going anywhere..not as long as we can keep doing this." Removing my hand from his eyes he blinked taking in the orange and pink view before him until he saw me snuggling up into his lap. "I suppose you're right dear. I love you too." He whispered wrapping his arms around my waist watching the sunset in beautiful silence.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

@makeshift-prime @rosie-posie08 @groovy-lady

#charles xavier one shot #charles xavier imagine #x men charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fluff #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x y/n #charles xavier x you #charles xavier #james macavoy #x men imagine #x men x reader #x men #x men imagines #x men request #ask box is open for anything #requests open #comments really appreciated

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sardonic-the-writer · 2 years

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—SCARS

—In which you are having a hard time accepting your body, and Charles can relate

—Word count: 1k

—Extra: n/a

Charles hadn't expected much to happen today.

An afternoon pouring over neatly (and sometimes not so neatly) written papers was the only thing on his agenda. Maybe even a trip to the kitchen for a cup of tea every now and then.

His silver pen would glide over sets of paper packets lightly as gray skys weighed down upon the grounds outside. Occasionally he would stop to scribble one or two things down on a select paper, but other than that the steady motion of jotting down grades was all he went through.

Charles was so deep into his duties as a proffessor that he had barely even heard the door to his office open slightly over the rain outside the window he sat at, only looking up once he felt another presence enter the room.

"Hello there." Charles smiled at a head poking through the door, the face of his long time friend and partner (Y/n) staring back at him. They smiled their signature grin at the professor, taking note of his casual attire of just a t-shirt and jeans.

"Sorry to interrupt. I just had the urge to come and see you. You know, sit around for a bit while I let Hank handle the kids downstairs" (Y/n) began to enter the room after closing the door behind them.

Charles quirked an eyebrow up, taking some papers off his desk and resting them on his knees as he wheeled himself around to face (Y/n). Whom had since then found their place on the edge of a plush couch on the other side of the office.

"I'm quite flattered you wished to come visit the old bore holed up in his tower." He jested while wheeling closer to them. "But are you quite sure that's all?"

"You could always look in my head if you weren't sure bub." They responded with a shrug. He got the feeling it was supposed to be joking, but the weight behind the words didn't match up.

"You know I don't like to do that unless necessary (Y/n)." Charles reminded them from across the couch. They just hummed before fliting their gaze away from his own.

A minute or two passed without any noise other than the sound of water droplets cascading on the roof above. Charles had since begun to sneak looks back and fourth between the papers in his lap and the person across from him, mind in two places at once as it usually was.

"Hey, Charles? Have you ever felt erm—" (Y/n) paused in their sentence to search for a word, successfully catching the attention of the target of their question in the progress, "—unsatisfied with your body?"

The question coated Charles' tounge in a bitter sweet feeling as the papers in his hands were laid aside. It wasn't a question he wasnt well versed in—nor one he wasn't familiar with—but sometimes even the best of questions could bring up bad memories.

"Once." He cleared his throat.

"After Erik's bullet pierced my spine, surely of which you remember, it took a while for me to see my legs as anything but a burden. A reminder of my failures in past years." Charles admitted somewhat faintly. The confession was honest, if not coated in a fine layer of regret for his foolish actions all that time ago.

"But why do you ask dear?" He mused while leaning forward; eyes softer than the very bed you sleep on.

(Y/n) began to pick at their neck, a sign of anxiety they had picked up after their first mission forever ago in capturing Shaw.

"Lately I've been, I don't know, finding myself insulting my body more and more. Comparing it to others. Like—like Raven. Even in her natural form she doesn't have half the stretch marks I do." They mummbled. The picking at their skin had since sped up, leaving a fair patch of flesh red in its wake.

It took Charles a moment of understanding before he settled on what (Y/n) was confiding in him.

"Oh, my dear." His wheelchair was quick to place itself by their side with him in it, a hand reaching out to cup itself on their jaw softly. He didn't miss the way they leaned into it hesitantly.

"You must understand that no matter what you look like, you are still one of the most stunning people to ever grace this planet. Dare I say handsome as well." Charles boasted of your looks like it was the finest sculpture known to humans and mutants alike. It would have brought a smile to your otherwise glum face if not for the topic at hand.

"And these stretch marks you speak of? May I be too forward in asking to see them?"

(Y/n) paused for a moment. They wanted to say no. And that yes he was being too forward by asking that. But something in them knew Charles would never do anything to make them feel unwanted or under appreciated. Much less embarrassed in their own skin.

They shifted on the couch, opting to sit up straighter and pull at the hem of their shirt. The fabric lifted up just enough to reveal soft purple and tan streaks zigzaging up rough skin in different directions on each sides of their hip.

"Beautiful." Was all Charles whispered, his voice so low, (Y/n) had to check twice to see if they heard him right.

"Like little lightning strikes." He grinned, looking away with his eyes gleefully crinkled in the corners. "I find them quite endearing. Just like the rest of you."

"I see why Raven called you a womanizer back in the day." (Y/n) managed to joke. They could feel their spirits lifting already.

"Ah, well, maybe just a little." Charles said, his face slightly hot as he recalled the foolish acts of his earlier youth. "But those were no words of such a womanizer so to speak. Meerly just someone observing the facts."

(Y/n) looked at him, a thankfulness in their gaze.

"Thanks. Really. Thank you."

Charles just laid a hand on their arm, his silent smile saying more than words ever could.

#xmen #xmen x reader #xmen x reader first class #xmen first class x reader #xmen first class #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier #charles #charles x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #xmen marvel #marvel xmen #one shot #hurt/comfort

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fouralignments · 1 year

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Peter getting an adult Bar Mitzvah.

Erik giving him one-on-one tutoring, teaching Hebrew and Yiddish; becoming familiar with the Shema or the Amidah prayers. This is one of the ways that they connect together and learns more about Erik, just feel closer to him and connects him with his grandparents, who are no longer with them, but the traditions that Erik passes to him.

Erik is there, and Charles and the rest of the X-Men to support him.

#Dadneto #Quickson #Erik Lehnsherr #peter maximoff #stepdad! Charles Xavier #Been wanting to make a one-shot about this for a while #quickson #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #stepdad! charles xavier

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omartinyosef · 25 days

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ST5 POTENTIAL SPOILERS!!!

GUYS I FOUND THIS ON REDDIT AND ACTUALLY IT'S QUITE INTERESTING

ST5 Leaks/Fleaks

Gen Plot

Season picks up briefly where we left off in 1986 before jumping into either late 1987 or early 1988. The season is contained entirely in apocalyptic Hawkins. Things with the government are shaky. Owens doesn't appear in the beginning of the season and it's unclear if he's returning, but Ellen Stinson is the new Owens. Hawkins is like a combination of the UD and Kamchatka.

Labyrinths/Mazes being important to both the supernatural plot and the interpersonal relationships. They're inherently linked.

Two songs to be featured are 'Listen to Your Heart' and 'Alone,' both of which were apparently foreshadowed in a previous conversation between Hopper and Joyce, similar to how Hopper's "I'm the puppet, you're the master" to Joyce in S3 basically foreshadowed Eddie's 'Master of Puppets' in S4.

S1 and 2 scenes being referenced are "Nancy and Mike's conversation in the bathtub" and "Hopper + Lando Calrissian"

Lots of importance in COLOR CODING and blocking from the final shot of S4, and a good chunk is told in the costuming—like passing the torch from one character to another as their arcs overlap. For example, Hopper and Will share the "am I the curse and therefore putting my loved ones at risk by being near them?" sentiment for S5, therefore their wardrobe in the final shot of S4 is similar. Joyce/Jonathan and Nancy/Mike's costuming also similar for the same reason, whereas Eleven stands out because she's the first one coming into her own this season. The white for her represents shedding of false skins.

Character duos this season will be primarily dressed in colors of blue/green and yellow/red.

There's lots of symbolism and foreshadowing for every character in S5 from the moment Will touches his neck in the last sequence of S4.

S4 focused on themes of lies and miscommunication, and everyone is going to have to work through these lies before they can defeat Vecna.

Murray and Argyle are both back. Dimitri and Yuri don't seem to be in the beginning of the season.

One thing left unresolved with the Russian plot. Something important will happen involving the machine and the green liquid from the Starcourt bunker. Reference of Dustin vowing to die with Steve when they initially discovered it.

Hopper, Joyce, Mike, Will, and El had to be away from Hawkins, otherwise Vecna wouldn't have won.

An important death that they're nervous about given the reception to Eddie (not Joyce or Jonathan—see details below).

Eleven

We'll see her unlike we've seen her before. A badass who doesn't take shit from anyone. Not a Monster, not a Hero, Jane. Think: adult El could be headed for a Charles Xavier type role.

Erica, Lucas, and El will share scenes together.

El has significant blocking and development with many characters this season.

Max, Eleven & Max

The "kaleidoscope of colors" from a script the writers posted makes a feature in both the scene where young El remembers her mother's love in order to defeat Henry in the lab, as well as the scene where El revives Max. This is significant because it's the first time we see El using her powers on someone in a non-violent way.

El was able to revive Max because of she, herself, being revived in the bunker by Brenner and Co. It's a show, don't tell moment from the writers.

Max getting Vecna'd was foreshadowed in the beginning of 2x01.

Will, Henry/Vecna, The UD

Filming was supposed to commence mid-June, but Noah and Jamie were set to begin in May due to more complicated costuming. Will is going to require heavy prosthetics at some point.

Will's character design is blocked in three stages. The more the UD bleeds into Hawkins, the more connected to it he feels. The gates being open will physically influence him, especially when he's not as mentally strong.

He's kind of like "the card up Vecna's sleeve."

It appears they want to confuse the audience about Will.

Will wrestling with his own morality

Henry/Will mirrors. Will will sympathize with Henry because, unlike El, he knows how and what Henry thinks, and he can feel him.

Vecna and Will are very similar, but the difference is Will is made stronger by love not hate. They will play into that duality.

Vecna was nerfed in S4 compared to how we see him in S5. He'll be much stronger.

At the beginning, he'll be taking a hiatus while he plans how to divide and conquer now that everyone's back together in Hawkins.

Soteria will be the key to saving Will. If they want Will to be untraceable to Henry, they'll have to insert it into his neck and it'll be painful. Vecna not having access to Will fucks up his ability to leave the UD.

Byler/Mileven Triangle

Apparently, it's complicated and up in the air as of now.

Mike dealing with guilt this season. He feels guilty/responsibility for El. He feels stuck in a loop that keeps him from a truth he's scared to face.

Will and Mike to spend a good chunk of the season together based on character designs and blocking.

Will telling El that Mike won't like being lied to comes back with the painting. During a pre-time jump scene in 5x01, while everyone's together plotting how to defeat Vecna and brainstorming how to save Max, Mike brings up the painting El commissioned for a D&D analogy. Will has to pull Mike aside and confess he lied about El commissioning the painting. Mike gets angry, because he doesn't know about Will's feelings and feels embarrassed that Will thought he was that pathetic he needed to be given a pep talk. Their own version of a "fight you can't come back from." Immediately after their fight, we get the time skip.

Mike's character motivations are unclear and seem to be kept under wraps. After the time jump, he and El won't be talking as much because he's keeping the details about Will's painting from her. She's gonna ask what's wrong between him and Will, and he lies/is very vague.

Joyce, Hopper, Jopper

Joyce feels immense guilt/responsible over Bob's death since she's the one that asked him to help in S2, which is why she pushed Hopper away at first.

Hopper has a secret from S1 that was never addressed, and it comes back to haunt him.

Joyce sustains an injury in S5 that is reminiscent of the way someone was injured in S3, but it isn't critical and she'll be okay.

Jopper are the most established couple after the time jump. Lots of bickering still, but Hopper trusts Joyce more than he ever has.

Jonathan, Nancy, Jancy

So far, does not seem like a breakup is happening.

Jonathan's still lying about the college letter and distant because of it, and Nancy thinks he's not as into the relationship and that there might be someone else. She confronts him, which leads to a talk. She's touched by the lengths he would go to try and protect her and any of their future children even from himself.

A moment where we're led to believe Jonathan dies but doesn't, like Hopper in S3.

Hopper-Byers Family

These five characters slowly unraveling their arcs together and have always been closely linked. Their perfect endings are together.

We see the family combining, especially in relation to El.

Joyce gets to witness Hopper being paternal and tender towards the boys.

Scenes with Joyce, Jonathan, and Will

Hopper being back lifts a weight off Jonathan's shoulders.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So, now time to shine.

''(...) sentiment for S5, therefore their wardrobe in the final shot of S4 is similar. Joyce/Jonathan and Nancy/Mike's costuming also similar for the same reason, (...)''

Okay. How did we see Nancy in S4? Confused. Confused with the love triangle between Jonathan, her and Steve. Jonathan is her actual boyfriend. And Steve is her posible love interest again.

So, putting this in byler language: Nancy = Mike Jonathan = Eleven Will = Steve

If Mike's and Nancy's character's clothing is important at this point of the time line and that means they feel similar feelings, this could mean that byler has a chance. BUT then we read this: ''(...) He (Mike) feels stuck in a loop that keeps him from a truth he's scared to face.'' And

''Mike's character motivations are unclear and seem to be kept under wraps.''

THIS LITERALLY MEANS BYLER. FOR REAL. Like byler could be endgame. Also, remember Eleven's injury in S3? Do you remember the leak of a shoe covered in blood?

It's Joyce. ALSO YOU CAN READ THAT WE'LL HAVE SCENES BEFORE THE TIME JUMP. And here it comes. Look at this freaking hair:

Does this look more like this

or this?

The season 4 bowl cut right? So maybe this is right in some part? I dont know. But that could make sense why Will is wearing Mike's pants, because his clothes were in California by that moment. But i really do think that the pic that was leaked a few days ago is before the time jump.

Im so late with this info haha :) but i kinda think some things here make sense. Even if this is too well explained to be a leak.

#stranger things s5 #st5 spoilers #stranger things 5 #st5 #stranger things #st5 speculation #st5 leaks #st5 production #will byers #stranger things season 5 #will byers is gay #byler tumblr #william byers #byler is endgame #byler endgame #byler nation #byler #mike wheeler is gay

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 24 days

Note

I dont know if you done this already, but what about you logan x fem reader fic, where reader is the little sister of Charles xavier or Eric, and they keep their relationship secret, but then everyone finds out and readers brother gets really protective of her and has a talk with logan trying to scare him off but it doesn't work

.⋆｡Worst Possible Decision｡⋆.

Logan x plus size reader

How could Logan be stupid enough to fall for the little sister of an overprotective metal controlling mutant? As it turns out, very easily.

Warnings: angst, gunshots, burns/fire, fluff, protective!erik, descriptions of pain, reader is german but there’s no further description than vague references WC: 2.7k

A/N: This went a little off of the request but I hope you still like it and I’m sorry for how long it took!

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

She was too much like her brother in a lot of ways, but at the same time, they couldn’t be more different. Where Erik could command any room he walked into, she blended, finding a home in the shadows where she could be hidden. He exuded confidence and a suave attitude that could charm anyone. She was meek, shy but with a power bubbling under the surface that felt like an even bigger threat than any her brother could come up with.

Erik shot first and asked questions later, Y/N wouldn’t ask, she would get all the answers she needed with a single look and then dispose of the trash without so much as a flick of her wrist. While Erik controlled metal, Y/N controlled pain.

Logan met the brother and sister duo long before the mutants were fractured. He noted how beautiful she was, even when he only glanced at her through his peripheral vision. She was curvy, with a belly and plump thighs. He told them to go fuck themselves.

The next time she saw him, she was alone. She seemed lopsided without her brother beside her, incomplete. Logan saw the way her hackles raised when Charles screamed at him to leave, calling him a liar. He saw how she flinched when Erik was mentioned.

Wolverine knew what happened between them, the rift that hadn’t ever been healed, even after her death in the far future. He was stunned by her beauty then, finally seeing her in the flesh after so many years, alive and well. Logan pulled her to the side as soon as they were alone, embracing her. Y/N tried to push him off but when she felt his pain, the raw burning like his nerves were on fire, she wrapped her soft arms around him, easing him.

“Stay alive.” He told her. “Do whatever you have to, you have to live.” He pleaded before he was pulled back to the future but not without kissing her like it was the last time. He stole her breath away as he poured every ounce of love as he could into her lips.

When Logan strolled into the Manor many years after that kiss, Y/N stayed away from him. He was so much younger, so much more whole. She could see now the pieces of him that would break away over the years and it hurt her. She knew what was going to happen to him, what had happened to him. But he cornered her eventually.

“You seem to already know who I am.” She shivered when she heard his voice call out to her from the infirmary door.

“You made a very big impression on the school.” Her accent had long since disappeared, snuffed out by the need to be hidden, to be safe. She didn’t look at him, instead concentrating on cataloguing the new medical supplies that had been delivered the day before.

The mutant huffed, clearly not content with her answer. “You avoid me like the plague while everyone else is indifferent.” Her eyes flicked up to him briefly.

“Maybe I have decided that I already don’t like you. You did threaten to abandon a young mutant on the side of the road.” He scoffed at the mention of Rogue.

“She had it comin’.” He shrugged. “So what is it exactly that you do?” His large body lounged against the one hospital bed in the room. She couldn’t help but glance up at him. He was physically older, slight grey in his sideburns, more lines on his face but his eyes weren’t as sad, the deep brown swirling with emotions he was trying desperately to tamp down but hadn’t learned how yet.

He was still incredibly handsome though. He walked with a confidence that came from youth, that blind faith in himself and his strength that made him cocky and untouchable. Y/N turned away. “I’m the school’s nurse, I thought that was pretty obvious, given I’m in the infirmary.”

Logan grunted, crossing his thick arms over his chest, holding a beer bottle between two of his fingers. “I was talkin about yer power, bub.” That made her smile, the corner of her lips turning up. She wouldn’t admit it out loud but she missed his attitude.

“I control pain. It’s useful.” She shrugs off the question with a half answer. She picked up the last of the supplies on the infirmary bed, making a note on her clipboard before putting them away.

She heard him huff and a silence settled over the room but it was not awkward or uncomfortable, it was just… silence. The beer in his bottle swished as he gulped down the last of the brew. The supply closet’s door swung shut with a creak and she chanced another look at the man.

She couldn’t ignore the way his muscles bulged so she forced herself to turn away. It would do her no good to get involved with him in any capacity, even if her heart screamed for him. Logan took the hint, leaving the infirmary with a grumble and a glance back at her.

It was impossible to completely avoid someone like Logan, even in a school as large as the academy. He seemed to appear in moments when her guard was down, lurking in the corner of her vision like a ghost. His blue eyes locked onto her whenever they would be in the same room, both undressing her and observing her with some morbid fascination.

But no matter how hard she tried, her lips still ached from that kiss all those years ago and her heart burned to know what would become of them in the future.

——————

“You seem awfully close with the professor.” The manor was silent, a much needed reprieve after the long day of classes in Logan’s case and lots of skinned knees in Y/N’s. An ancient record player crooned in the corner of the huge sitting room, bathing its two occupants in pleasant song which was quickly becoming more of a lullaby. The older mutant sat on one end of the couch with his companion lying across the rest, a thick book propped up on her chest and her sock-clad feet dangerously close to his lap.

She let the statement sink in for a moment as Logan took another sip from his glass of bourbon he had pilfered from Charles’s not-so-well hidden stash. “Are you asking me something or just talking out loud?” He rolled his eyes.

“What do you think darlin’?” He snapped but his usual condescending tone was replaced with a sarcastic tilt to his voice. Her lips quirked up and she shut her book, letting it rest on her sternum as she met his gaze.

“Yes, Charles and I are very close. I’m the same way with Hank and Alex, we’ve all been here since the beginning.” She knew her answer was one that was far more simple than he would’ve liked but she wouldn’t give him the full story unless he asked.

Logan dropped his left hand from where it had been resting upon his chest onto his meaty thigh, the edge of his palm now just grazing the tip of her fuzzy socks. “Are you fucking him?” The question was so unexpected that Y/N choked on her own spit. She shot up as she coughed, tucking her legs beneath her. Too caught up in catching her breath, she missed the way his eyes dulled at the loss of her closeness.

“Scheiße.” The German naturally slipped from her lips and she thumped her chest with a closed fist. “God no! Having a telepath as a friend is bad enough, I could never imagine dating one.” He smirked, letting out a pleased chuff.

“So…” He prompted. Y/N leaned back into the couch. They now sat side-by-side and Logan was able to study her profile as she eased the drink from his hand, finishing it off in one gulp.

Her face was solemn, haunted by something he couldn’t quite place, even in his many decades of life. She looked as if she were in mourning. “I traded one overprotective brother for another.”

——————

Logan’s legs ached as he ran, the smoke from the fires that raged around him singed his senses. Flames licked up the sides of the manor as gunshots still echoed across the fields, even if the fighting had already stopped. They had come in the dead of night, guns and torches lighting their way.

The school had always been a risk, especially being so close to town. But young mutants needed a place to go. It was inevitable that those who hated them would try to run them out, they all thought they had more time.

It was her voice that pulled Logan from his retreat. Laced with tears, she was comforting one of the older students as he nursed a severe burn to his arm. They were laid out in the grass which was still damp from the early morning dew. Y/N cupped his face with glowing hands and Logan could clearly see the pain that rippled through her.

More students gathered around them, each with an injury of their own, each begging for some kind of relief. Exhaustion painted her face as her body wound tight with agony. The ground shook as Logan dropped to his knees next to her.

“Give me their pain.” She was withering away right before his eyes, driven only by a need to protect, to give the children comfort in the only way she knew how. She shook her head and instead moved to a girl who was no older than 13. A flesh wound cut across her leg, the edges of the wound burned with residual gunpowder.

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips as she took the girl’s pain and Logan watched as the woman began to wither away. She was killing herself.

“Give me their fucking pain.” He yanked her hands away from the girl and laid them on his broad chest. She thrashed in his hold in an attempt to pull away but he wouldn’t budge.

Her eyes met his and she froze. This was the moment that he had warned her about so many years before, a premonition that he would never remember. But to give her pain, her gift, to someone else, she couldn’t even fathom it. “Please.” He begged, squeezing her hands in his own. She was weakening, she doubted she could stop him even if she tried.

Logan felt like he was burning alive as gunshots ripped through his arms and legs. And yet he smiled at her and in that moment, something shifted between them. “That’s it doll face.” Heat rushed to her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the fire that still blazed behind them.

——————

The sounds of power tools and hammers were almost constant nowadays as the mutants worked together to rebuild the crumbling school. Y/N strolled happily through the halls, the walls still blackened from the fire. The students were gone, taken home by their families or sent to safe houses around the country, leaving only a few teachers who wanted to lend a hand.

“They’re working quite quickly.” Charles noted from his place where the greenhouse used to sit. A handful of people, including Logan, Hank, Alex and Rogue among others were steadily building a large room across the way- a brand new library.

Y/N chuckled as she handed him a cup of lemonade. “They have a goal to achieve. This school is important to all of us.” He grinned slyly at his long time friend.

“I’m sure one of them has another motivation for working so hard.” His blue eyes flicked to the love bite that peaked from her collar.

“Shut up.” She muttered with a kick to his wheelchair, Charles laughed under his breath as she walked away to the man responsible for her tender steps and slight limp. As much as Charles loved to tease, he loved even more that she was smiling again and the pain that always seemed to radiate from her mind was now a dull ache that was easily chased away by the touch of her lover.

As soon as she was near enough, Logan abandoned his work, his full attention turned to her. Her laugh carried through the summer breeze like a bird song as he wrapped her up in his arms, lathering her face in kisses. The others rolled their eyes and continued their work as the couple embraced.

“I see my absence was not missed.” Erik’s cool tone froze Charles’s blood.

Rage rolled off the mutant in waves as he glared at the man who was all over his precious sister. His knuckles turned pale and Charles could almost hear the way his muscles tensed. “Erik, what a surprise. I thought you were still on the run.” He looked up at his old friend though he almost didn’t recognise him. His eyes were so much older, his soul so much darker but yet, it was still him.

Y/N had yet to notice her brother, too wrapped up in the arms of her lover but as she pressed another kiss to his cheek, Erik’s anger mounted. He knew what Logan was, knew exactly what pain he was capable of inflicting. “How long?” He growled.

“A couple months though I suspect that Logan had been pining for her since the moment he met her.” Perhaps it was optimistic of Charles to divulge details of their relationship to Erik, but he was a romantic at heart. “Logan saved her life, Erik.”

Her laughter did nothing to ease the furrow in his brow but the way that Logan grabbed at her ample backside absolutely did something.

“Logan?” Y/N asked curiously as the man in her arms suddenly froze and his eyes widened almost comically. “Are you ok?” She cupped his cheek and pain unlike anything she had ever imagined rocketed through her veins. Her bones felt like they were twisting in upon themselves, severing nerves and destroying her body from the inside out. She could feel Logan’s flesh move unnaturally as she pulled him closer to her.

“Logan!” Her hands pressed harder into his jaw in an attempt to steal the violent sensation from him but still, his chest echoed with his suffering.

“Erik enough!” Her head whipped around, as did the attentions of all the other mutants gathered around. The fury in his eyes was like nothing she had seen before, as if he was looking at a roach he had crushed under his boot. His knuckles paled with the force of his power.

A howl of pain escaped Logan’s lips, finally breaking Y/N from her trance. “Release him or I’ll fucking break you.” She snarled and for just a moment, Erik faltered.

His hold wavered briefly but it was enough for Charles to grab his wrist and completely break his focus. “This is beyond childish.” He scolded as Y/N pulled her partner behind her but her deadly glare remained firmly on her brother. Erik didn’t bother to respond, instead his shoulders dropped in surrender and Logan collapsed, the pain finally dissipating.

There was a flurry of movement as she fell to her knees and the others rushed to make sure they were alright. “She’s happy, she’s safe. Leave it alone.” But Erik ignored his friend. His Y/N was gone and perhaps she had been for years. This woman that threatened him when he hurt a boy, as he had done dozens of times in the past with no fight from her, was not the girl he grew up with.

She stood up straight all on her own. She didn’t need Erik to balance her nor Logan to push her up, perhaps that’s why her brother slipped out in the dead of night, leaving behind the one thing that kept him tethered to his humanity. Y/N would awaken the next morning in the protective hold of the man she loved and find a single coin, rusted with age and stained with dried blood on her nightstand. She knew that she would not hear from him again, Erik was dead, only Magneto remained.

The worst decision indeed.

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

The Breaking Point | Logan Howlett

logan howlett x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: The reader and Logan have been bantering since the moment they met, and the other members of the X-Men have had enough of the tension and arguments. They decide to take matters into their own hands and shove the two towards the ultimate breaking point.

A/N: I swear on everything that I love that I started this one shot with every intention for it to be just fluff and yet it STILL gets angsty. At this point, I think I have a chronic condition of liking to write about hurt. Well, it led to this beautiful little gem of a story so I'll allow it. Love you and all and keep up with the dreaming 🤍

Warnings: fluffiest fluff i've written in a while, angst near the end, endless banter

Word Count: 4,850

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

Have you ever hated someone so much that when they walk into the room all you want to do is punch them in the nuts?

Yeah, me too. Only problem? No matter how hard I punch him, I could never permanently wound him.

"Could you eat any louder? I'm genuinely curious."

I ignore Logan's rumble of a voice, gritting my teeth to keep from starting a fight in the middle of our team dinner. As we sit in the large dining room of Charles Xavier's mansion and school, I focus intently on the noodles before me and not the annoying wolf-man across the table. The X-Men around us keep talking, Logan and I's arguments a normal occurrence in the Mansion.

"God, you're so annoying," Logan mutters, and I drop my fork, staring at him wide-eyed from across the table.

"I didn't even do anything! How could I possibly be annoying you?" I exclaim, my voice incredulous. He gives me a curt smile and damn it if it doesn't still make my heart turn molten. That last tidbit only makes me more infuriated since I can't even control my body around him.

"I think it's just your presence, sweetheart," Logan responds with a wink.

"My presence?" I laugh, grabbing my fork again and pointing it at the man across from me, "At least I'm not the one with a personality that ranges from grumpy to grumpier."

"I'm only grumpy around you," He quips.

"I mean, do you just enjoy being a giant, walking storm cloud? I bet babies scream when you walk past."

Scott chokes on his food beside me to hide his laugh. Neither Logan nor I seem to notice that the table's gone somewhat silent to revel in our showdown.

"No, but I make women scream all the time."

It's Rogue's turn to let out a surprised cough. Despite myself, I find my cheeks heating. I'm glad for being in the midst of an argument, though, so the flushing of my cheeks gives away nothing.

"In terror? I'm sure," I coolly respond, stabbing a piece of chicken to keep from stabbing the Wolverine. Logan sits back in his chair, a smug, heart-twisting smirk on his face.

"Whatever you tell yourself, Y/N." He nods his head towards me, those damn hazel eyes burning into my soul without even trying, "We both know you dream of me every night."

"Oh I do," I concede, painting a look of desperation on my face that makes his brows furrow, "Every night I dream of how I could kill you,"

Logan rolls his eyes, but I see his jaw clenching nonetheless and smirk, knowing I've gotten under his skin.

"Even if I could die, you couldn't kill me if you tried, sweetheart."

I nod my head in acknowledgment, but then reach out with my powers to his food and with a single thought, I order the atoms to rearrange from his dinner and into a fat, squirming toad. He lets out a small noise of surprise and shoves back from the table as the toad hops down and skitters away.

"No, but maybe I'll turn you into a toad like your stir-fry, sweetheart." I look off in the distance, plastering on my best thinking face, "Do you think you'd still have claws? That'd be-"

"That's it," He growls, shoving away from the table and letting his claws rip out. This sends our team from amused observation to panicked mediation. I shove myself up to, holding my arms out.

"What are you gonna do, wolf boy? Come on, try!" I taunt. Chairs are screeching all along the table as our friends shoot to their feet, voices crying out to placate us.

"Calm down you two!"

"What are you, children?"

"Not again! We can't afford to keep buying new dinner tables!"

Logan jumps deftly onto the table, stalking across it and knocking over food as he does until he jumps back down on my side, getting into my face. I stand my ground, bringing him nose-to-nose with me as I glare up at him. The air is charged with tension between us, waiting to snap. My fogged brain doesn't if I want to punch him or...

I shake away the other thought, trying to forget about it.

"Oh I'll show you what I'll do," Logan whispers, the rasp in his voice running down my spine and knocking my heart from rhythm.

"That is enough!" Charles shouts, and the room goes silent immediately. Logan clenches his jaw and looks over to Charles as I do the same. The professor sighs, hanging his head and massaging his temple as if he's developed a massive headache.

"Good Lord, if only you two could hear what was whizzing between your minds. That was so confusing." Professor Xavier huffs out a sigh before wheeling over in front of us.

"Y/N, go find the toad you turned Logan's dinner into and please refrain from turning him into one as well," Charles orders. Logan snickers, probably about to egg on to his statement before Charles turns his head sharply towards him.

"Logan, please refrain from aggravating Miss Y/L/N. I much prefer you as a man, not an amphibian. Although you would be quieter," He adds on, making me snort. I send Logan a pointed look, which he just rolls his eyes to and looks back to Charles.

"You two need to learn to at the very least tolerate each other," the Professor commands, shaking his head incredulously, "You work so well together on missions and you'd be such great...friends if you would just set down this petty feud. Now go to bed both of you, think about ways you can be more civil."

He turns and wheels away, leaving Logan and I standing tensely beside each other and feeling like scolded children. With a shake of my head, I turn and make my way towards my room which just so happens to be right across from Logan's. He trails me, his silent presence overbearing on my mind and heart.

"You ever seen the Professor that flustered?" I ask, desperate to break the charged air between us. Logan lets out a short laugh from beside me.

"I thought his head was gonna explode."

I smile, casting a glance over at the Wolverine, "You'll make him go crazy."

We stop in front of our doors and Logan turns to look down at me, cocking an eyebrow amusedly, "Me? Sweetheart, you're just as bad as I am."

Something about the way he looks at me makes my heart trip. Maybe it's the proximity I don't think either of us realizes, or maybe it's the smirk that drives me crazy, but I take a subtle step back before I do something I'll regret.

"Careful, Howlett. I'll still turn you into a toad," I warn. His smirk turns into that damn half-smile that makes my stomach wild with butterflies.

"Don't let the Professor hear you say that, Y/N. You won't be his favorite anymore,"

I laugh, walking back towards my door, "I think you've been his favorite since the moment you crashed through our doors."

Logan lifts an eyebrow at me, "Is that why you hate me?"

I freeze, a weird, strangling sensation settling into my chest. Does he...does he really think that I hate him?

"Logan," I start, my eyes growing serious in a way that makes the teasing smirk drop from his face, "Logan, do you think I hate you?"

He clenches his jaw, turning more serious than I've ever seen him be. In the hazel of his eyes, I see horrors of the decades he's lived on this Earth flash through his gaze. It makes my heart drop to the floor, and I almost walk over and pull him into a hug.

"It's better if you do." He almost whispers, and then turns and walks into his room, shutting the door behind him.

I stand frozen for a moment in the hallway, trying to work through what he just said. Shaking my head with a sigh, I turn and enter my own room. That night, as I get ready for bed, I can't get my mind off of the Wolverine.

Something stirs in my chest, because the Professor isn't wrong about what he said earlier. From the first moment Logan and I met, we fit together so well that it terrified me. Not to mention that he was breathtakingly attractive in a rugged sort of way that made my inhibitions turn to mush. My attraction stayed for a grand total of ten minutes when he began to argue and pick on me like a seventh grade boy.

I tell everyone that I hate him, that I can't stand him. And I can't, that's true. The whole truth, though? The whole truth is that he only annoys me because I have no control over my body, thoughts, and feelings when I'm around him. I've always managed to keep romance to a one-night-stand sort of level, but every time I banter with Logan something in me craves his easy nature and the way he takes no shit. I need his banter like I need the air I breathe, because without it I feel like I'll get lost in the mundane of my routine. Logan makes me feel...alive in ways that I can't explain. And, as much as he'd never admit it, he's got the softest, kindest heart out of anyone I know.

And sometimes...sometimes I feel like he argues with me to keep me at a distance.

My proof? Every time we have a rare civil conversation like the one we just had, he shuts down for a few days with me. He avoids me, and then when he can't anymore, his usually petty and teasing insults turn grumpier than usual and more charged. It's almost like every time we naturally gravitate closer, Logan shoves us apart.

The only question is why?

|||

Later That Week

"Hey Y/N, I need your help."

I turn my gaze from the papers I'm grading from the science class I teach at the school to Jean who's just walked into my classroom. A smile blooms on my face and I stand from my chair, leaning against my desk as she walks over to me.

"Yeah, anything. What's up?"

"It's Scott and I's anniversary tomorrow night and the Professor just booked me for a mission. Do you think you could cover it for me? I know it's so last minute but Scott and I have had this night planned for weeks," Jean explains.

"Yeah, of course! You need a break as it is," I inform, smiling wryly at my friend, "Go have fun with Scotty. I've got it covered."

A relieved, ecstatic smile explodes onto her face and she rushes forward, pulling me into a hug, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the actual best!"

I laugh, hugging her back before moving back towards my desk chair to continue grading.

"Anytime. Just send over the details tonight," I reply. She nods, affirming she'll do so before thanking me again and breezing out of the room to probably go tell Scott the good news.

|||

The Next Night

I hum to myself as I collect the supplies I'll need for the mission tonight. My hands are busy as I traipse through the supply room in the basement of the Mansion, grabbing various weapons and medical supplies and stashing them in the duffle bag I've got planted on the table in the center of the room.

Storm is set to be on the mission with me, and told me that she'd be getting the jet ready while I grabbed the supplies. So, once the duffle is packed, I sling it over my shoulders and make my way over the hanger. Just as she said, the jet sits humming and ready, the coordinated no doubt already punched in. The back hatch rests open, beckoning me in. As I walk up the ramp and into the belly of the jet, my eyes search for Ororo.

"Storm?" I call out, my brows furrowed as I search the cockpit. When I don't see her, I shrug. She must be grabbing something.

In the mean time, I stash the duffle into an overhead compartment. Just as I step back from doing so, an air-capturing presence enters the jet.

"You've got to be shitting me."

My heart hits the actual floor and I drop my head.

"This isn't happening," I mutter to myself before turning to see Logan standing in the entrance of the jet.

Like I predicted, he hasn't talked to me since the dinner incident. He'd barely stay in the same room as me, so seeing him sends an unwelcome bolt of joy through my soul. My stupid, traitorous heart flips in my chest at the sight of him.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I could ask you the same thing," He grits out, setting down a duffle that matches the one I made, "I'm covering for Jean."

Everything suddenly snaps into focus. I blow out a breath, shaking my head.

"That little traitor," I grumble, before looking at a confused and aggravated Logan, "I'm covering for Jean too."

The realization hits him at the same time and he shakes his head. He turns to exit the open hatch of the jet, eager to get as far away from me as fast as possible.

I'd be lying if I said it didn't make a sudden shot of hurt explode in my chest.

"Fuck this," Logan mutters, but before he can leave, the door to the jet shuts. He stumbles back, a confused look overtaking his features.

"What the-"

That's when the engine revs to life.

I jog over to the empty cockpit to see the controls lighting up and the auto-pilot system taking over. Before either of us can do anything, since neither of us know how to fly, the jet is pulling out of the hanger and lifting into the sky to God knows where. I step back, shaking my head and looking over to where Logan has stepped up beside me. We share a knowing look.

"Storm." We say in sync. As if on cue, a voice radios in from the controls.

"Come in lovebirds, do you copy?" Storms amused voice announces. I grit my jaw and lean forward to respond.

"Storm, take us down or I swear-"

"No can do, you two need some bonding time." That was another voice, the Professor's voice. Shock crashes over me.

"Professor, you too?" Logan sputters.

"You two will learn to behave at the very least. Hopefully being stuck together will help the team spirit." He responds.

"Stuck together?" I question, my brows furrowing in confusion, "But the mission said that-"

"Oh there's no mission. The jet's set to fly a round trip for the night." Jean pipes in.

"Like hell it is! Bring us down right now!" Logan growls out, and I almost laugh at the bit of fear in his eyes. He's always been uncomfortable flying and I've always made fun of him for it. It's at least of some consolation to know this is how we're stuck together.

"I'm sorry, you're breaking up. What was that?" Storm asks, amusement lacing her tone.

"Ororo-" I start.

"I can't...must be...signal's going..."

Anyone could tell she's faking it.

"When I get back, you're all spending the weekend as cockroaches!" I call out.

"Have fun!" Jean and Storm call back before the line cuts out.

Logan begins muttering to himself before settling down in the pilot's chair and fiddling with random buttons. My eyes widen suddenly and I lurch forward, grabbing his arm.

"What the hell are you doing? Trying to get us killed? Neither of us know how to work this thing!" I object. He shakes off my touch and stands, towering over me and making me stumble back a few steps. He matches me for every one until I finally find my ground.

"There's no way in hell I'm staying trapped up here with you," Logan spits, and yet again my stupid heart flinches at the low blow.

I must flinch slightly in reaction as well, because some of the anger drains from Logan's face, being replaced with something I can't quite place. He sighs, cursing himself before taking a step closer to me.

"Y/N, I didn't mean it like-"

"No, it's fine." I cut him off, giving him a curt smile and cursing myself for not being able to hide the hurt. I take a few steps back and turn, walking into the belly of the jet, "Let's just get through this night."

I can practically feel Logan's unspoken words hanging in the air before I hear him sigh and mumble something to himself. I drop down into one of the chairs in the back, propping my feet up on the empty chair next to me and letting my eyes slip closed. I so desperately want to be able to sleep the night away to avoid any more interactions with Logan that can break my heart open and reveal the feelings I've denied for months. As I sit with my eyes shut, though, time passes and I can't seem to find sleep.

Maybe it has something to do with the domineering presence in the chair across from mine.

I can feel his gaze burning into me without even opening my eyes, can feel the way he wants to break the tense silence that settles over the cabin of the jet. The air is so thickly charged that I think for a moment that one spark could set the jet on fire. When I finally have had so much of the silence that I can barely take it anymore, I let out a sigh.

"Why do you do that?" I ask, my eyes still shut. The silence turns still.

"Do what?" He grumbles back. I drop my feet from the seat and open my eyes, turning forward so we face each other in the cabin.

"Every time I start to think we can be friends, you shut down. You ignore me and whenever you do talk to me you're as cold as ice with a temper that could make Hell freeze over." I don't hold back, so fed up with the same cyclic behavior from the last few years of knowing Logan.

"Y/N," Logan starts, then goes silent for a long while. Finally, his almost...tortured gaze meets mine, "We can't be friends. We'll never be friends."

I thought what he'd said before hurt, but that was a scrape compared to the knife he just shoved in my heart and twisted. I clench my jaw to keep from visibly recoiling again at the blow.

It's getting too much. It's all getting too much. The tension, the attraction, the long silences and bursts of charisma that make me want to crawl into his arms and stay forever. I can't take how off and on he is with me, I just can't. Not when I'm beginning to realize that I want him so desperately and not just physically or not just when he's in a good mood. I want every part of him because he makes me feel like I'm someone, because I feel like I was asleep until I met him. And to see the way he can so blatantly disregard me and shut down with me and say that...say that we can't even be friends?

It's too much. I can't take it.

My emotions bubble over and I make a small, tortured sound before shoving to my feet and storming to the back of the jet. I make sure to keep my back firmly to him to hide the angry and heartbroken tears that begin to well up from his keen eyes, but there's no mistaking my sharp intake of breath and shuddering shoulders.

"Y/N," his voice is like a poisonous honey, killing me slowly and soothing my very soul as it breaks me, "Y/N, just talk to me."

I let out a humorless laugh and whirl around to see him on his feet and walking over. When he sees the tears in my eyes and my emotions painted clearly, I know I can't hide from him. He freezes in his step, his hazel eyes like burning fires and every muscle in his body tensed as if he were holding them taut to keep him from doing something.

"No, don't-" I cut myself off in time to shove down the sob that wants to shudder through me, "You have no right. You have no right to keep pulling me in and-and shoving me away. I can't take it anymore, I can't"

The tension has finally reached its snapping point and I'm breaking first, I don't even care anymore. His face is impossible to read and it burns because I can't exactly storm away from him when we're tens of thousands of feet in the sky.

"Sweetheart, listen I-"

That's my breaking point.

"No, don't you dare 'sweetheart' me," I grit out, not even bothering to stop the burning hot tears that race down my cheeks, "God, you don't even get it, do you?"

Logan's face is one of pure shock and pain—pain for what, I can't place. What I can see is the way his large hands keep flexing and unflexing, almost as if he's using every muscle to keep from walking up to me. His jaw is clenched so tight that I'm surprised his teeth don't crack. I dig my hands into my hair and groan in frustration before dropping them back down to my sides. I don't even give him a chance to respond.

"Every time you mess with me, every time you speak to me, every time you're even near me, Logan you are pushing me further and further down a very steep cliff and I can't stop it, I have tried." I take a gasping breath, not even caring that I'm baring every feeling to him that I haven't even processed with myself yet, "And you keep ignoring me and saying we can't be friends and then the next thing I know you're messing with me again and-"

"I'm not trying to hurt you, sweet-" He stops himself briefly, changing the word he was going to use, "Y/N. You just have to understand-"

"You are breaking me, Logan!" I shout, my vision blurring from the unbridled tears, "I am falling in love with you and you are breaking me!"

He goes as silent as death before me, everything within him going still. I don't seem to notice, and even if I did, I wouldn't care. I'm halfway past shattering and I can barely control myself. Years of pent up emotion is spilling out, and damn it I'm going turn all of my friends back at the Mansion into worms.

"What did you just say?" His voice is no more than a whisper, but I'm not listening.

"Let me hate you," I beg, my voice beseeching for mercy and my fists itching to slam into his stupid, perfect face, "Please, why can't I hate you?"

That's when Logan breaks.

"Fuck it all," he suddenly growls, making my breath hiccup and my gaze snap up to him. My stomach flips sharply when I see him storming up to me so suddenly that I can't even back up.

"Logan, what-"

"Shut up." He orders, and he reaches me in seconds.

The moment he does, one of his hands cups my face and the other snakes around my waist, tugging me so close to him that I can feel every ridge and curve of his muscles. I barely have time to breathe when he tilts my head up with his hand and crashes his lips to mine.

Instantly I'm on fire.

I can't stop the small moan that leaves my lips, swallowed by his as he kisses me so desperately and passionately that my knees would buckle if it weren't for his iron grip on my waist. He bites my bottom lip softly and uses the gasp I let out to deepen the kiss. Every fiber of me is trembling and my body is on fire. Everywhere he touches me is pure desire and lightning and passion and I can barely catch my breath. He must feel the same because he reluctantly pulls away, leaving us both panting in the silence.

My lips are swollen and my body shaking, leaving me holding on to Logan desperately to ground myself to this instant, to convince myself that was real. The charge is too strong, and like opposite ends of a magnet our lips end up together again. This time, he pulls back just enough so our lips are still touching.

"I'm so sorry," He breathes against my lips, sealing the apology with a quick kiss, "I'm so sorry."

I pull away, capturing his face in my hands and staring at him with furrowed, confused brows. My unspoken desire for an explanation is clearly picked up, and he shakes his head, moving both of his hands to my waist. Where his hands hold me burns in the best way, in a way that makes me never want to pull away.

"Everyone I have ever cared for, everyone I have ever let myself love, has been taken from me," Logan whispers brokenly, and I stop breathing. I don't dare to believe what his words spell out so clearly, but instead let him keep talking as if to prove me wrong.

He doesn't.

"That's why I kept shoving you away, that's why we could never be friends. Because if we were, I could never live with just being friends with you"

"Logan, what are you saying?" I whisper, my eyes wide and my heart racing so fast that I actually fear it might give out on me. His nose nudges mine before he pulls back, letting his eyes burn into mine so I can see the truth in them, the meaning and the sincerity.

"Y/N, I have been in love with you since the moment I met you."

This time, my knees do buckle briefly. Thankfully, his arms around my waist hold me until I manage to hold my own weight again.

"You-you love me?"

A sweet smile that I want to take a picture of and hold close forever spreads onto his lips.

"Always."

I pull him down so our lips meet again, and for the first time in months my soul is at peace. What's been devouring me slowly finally stops as everything makes perfect sense. When I pull away, I lean my forehead against his.

"You're not gonna lose me." I vow, then pull back to raise an eyebrow at him, "But if you ever shove me away out of fear of losing me again, I will turn you into a cat and keep you as the kids' class pet."

A genuine, heart-healing laugh erupts from him, lighting up Logan's face in a way that makes me fall in love all over again. We just stay like that for a moment, his arms around my waist and mine back around his neck, our bodies molded together and our breath mingling.

"You think they're watching a live feed of this right now?" I ask, not pulling away an inch.

The radio crackles back to life and Storm's voice fills the jet, "That would be an affirmative, love birds. Mission Wedding Bells is a success."

We both chuckle, and Logan turns his head towards the direction of the cockpit, where the camera probably is. With all the gentlemanliness he can muster, he unsheathes only his middle claw, flipping the entire team out. I laugh dropping my head onto his chest.

He cups my face and turns it up to face him, cocking an eyebrow at me, "What?"

It only makes me laugh harder and his body rumbles with laughter against mine, "Come here, sweetheart."

He slings an arm across my shoulders and walks me back to the cockpit. As we do, I think of that first moment we met. An amused smile tugs at my lips and I shake my head slightly.

"What are you smiling about?" Logan asks. I look up at him, amusement dancing among my features.

"When you saw me turn that creep paparazzi in the front lawn into a pigeon, that's when you fell in love with me?"

He chuckles, kissing my cheek and making me wonder if this is what bliss is.

"I took one look at you scolding him and then tending to the kids like a mother and knew I was in trouble."

I laugh, leaning into his side, "You realize we have to let the Professor tell us 'I told you so', right?"

"Over my dead body," Logan stiffens, his words final. I snort.

"Good thing you can't die."

And for the first time since I met Logan, my traitorous, knowing heart was settled.

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