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takenbypeter · 1 year

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Leaving Doodles

Peter maximoff x reader

Words: 337

FLUFF BINGO

Background music and deep inhales and exhales. It was unusual for those to be the only sounds heard from Peter Maximoff’s room considering the man was a light sleeper and typically up and at ‘em early in the mornings. But he actually had a good, deep sleep this time.

Opening his eyes and stretching his limbs across the mattress, the first thing he noticed was the lack of someone. You.

It was fine though he knew you had plans early in the morning, he’s just surprised he didn’t wake up when you left.

Dragging his hand down his face, he begins his morning routine. Pushing himself off the comfort of his bed he walks into the nearby restroom, pulling the tube of toothpaste along with his toothbrush off the shelf.

Squeezing the minty freshness on the bristles he shoves the brush into his mouth lazily head still blank from his sleep. Eyes practically closed he brushes in circular motion. But as he stood there toothbrush hanging in his mouth, his hand stopped and suddenly he was smiling like a doofus remembering the fact that you spent the night over.

Continuing to brush he saw something in the mirror. Eyebrows meeting each other and face contorting, his right hand left the toothbrush and opened in front of him.

On the back of his hand was a note, it said, ‘check left wrist.”

Check left wrist? He thought eyes moving, when he checked he saw another note. ‘Look at left back upper arm.’

He did so and could make out the words, ‘look inside right elbow.’

“My elbow?” Wondering how you even wrote there without him waking up was beyond him but he did so and once looking at his elbow he saw a tiny drawing of a flower waving a leaf hand with the words, “hello” written next to it.

Just ‘hello.’ That was it. Although that was it, it was enough to make Peter grin into that lovesick grin that only you had the power to create.

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

Imagine Charles and Erik trying to (unsuccessfully) recruit you for X-men

A/N: this is a draft from THREE YEARS AGO. I was reminded of its existence only because Draft.ai is being taken down and I got an e-mail reminding me to download my files.

The sound of the gun's hammer being pulled back filled the quiet night. The metal weapon glistened in the moonlight. It was held by a trembling hand although it belonged to a man of certainty.

"Who are you?" Charles asked. It was quite visible that he had very little experience with firearms. The shaky muzzle pointed to a figure in the dark. Given his lack of expertise and visible nervousness, there was no chance he could actually shoot them. "What do you want?" he raised his voice.

You shifted slightly. Throwing off the hood covering your face, you turned around to look at him. The silver moon was behind Charles's back and so its light brightened up your tired face. You stared down the barrel of the gun but it elicited no worry from you; it seemed that despite both of you knowing he had no chance of seriously hurting you, neither of you was willing to openly admit that yet.

"Who are you?" he asked again. Although cursed with the ability to control and read minds, he had poor control of his own.

"It would be funnier if I thought you could actually shoot me," you spoke up.

"And what makes you think I won't?" Charles gritted through his teeth.

A dry chuckle escaped your lips. It nearly seemed pathetic how much he tried to put a brave face on but clearly couldn't. Charles knew what you were, of course, and yet he was desperate to imitate the courage that ignorance would have given him. It was one of those cases when lack of knowledge truly was blissful.

"I know you, I've watched you." You slowly moved towards him. The cold wind nipped at your skin." Violence disgusts you. You're curious about who I am, so why would you shoot? Vivisection doesn't seem to be your style."

Charles let out a shaky breath. Seeing as you were unmoved by his poor facade, his nervousness visibly grew. He took his other hand to support the gun. Despite that, the barrel was hardly pointing at you.

"Besides, your gun is loaded with blank bullets. Even a full round won't kill me."

Charles furrowed his eyebrows, clearly surprised that you would somehow know that. At that moment of his confusion, you kicked his wrist and caught the gun. While looking Charles in the eyes, you released the magazine and threw both parts in the mud.

"You were looking for me, I heard," you continued. If you wanted your peace, you had to see this little lark through.

"You heard me?" Charles asked quietly in a breathy tone. It was something new to him - you weren't supposed to know. As far as he knew, it wasn't your power.

A scoff left your mouth. "You really thought your toy works only one way?"

Gravel crunched a few feet behind you - someone else was present under the moonlight. It wasn't something you didn't expect but it made the situation a little more problematic nonetheless. Whatever you needed to do or say to get them off your back, you had to do it quickly and tactfully as now you were outnumbered.

"I came to give you a warning," you said a little louder to make sure that whoever joined this little conversation could hear you too. "Next time you try to reach me, buy yourself a casket. I don't care about any of your 'mutant war' shit."

"But you're one of us," Charles argued. As if you didn't already consider that side of things! "If the government kills mutants, it means you die too. That's why we need any help we can get."

"Moira…Raven…" you counted aloud. Maybe blackmailing wasn't a great tactic but in your position people tend to grab whatever they can lay their hands on. There had to be something to get Charles Xavier to leave you be. "Which one should I talk to first for you to back off?"

"You wouldn't make it," said a voice behind you. Just by its sound, you knew it belonged to none other but Erik Lensherr.

In a matter of seconds, bullets from the magazine you had thrown away earlier, were pulled up and flying towards you. And as if time slowed down, you dodged the bullets. While making a suspiciously perfectly timed move, a light blue light followed your movements with a slight delay - there was an interesting power at your hands.

"Take it as a warning, you two." It was obvious that the diplomatic part of the evening just came to a close. "I just want to be left alone."

Having said those words, you marched away only to disappear among the treeline, becoming one with the darkness of the cold night.

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seconds-2-midnight · 6 months

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Geigerposting at 1am

"My Atom Bomb" is a serious fic about trauma and grief and isolation and dying alone and the fear of hurting people you love and two damaged people bonding over being treated like burdens all their lives ... but it's also about two nasty, weird little freaks loving each other very much and giggling like fuckin dorks.

#x men oc #toad x oc #toad x geiger #my atom bomb #ao3 fanfic #x men fanfiction #x men fanfic #mortimer toynbee #x men #xmen #your honor she's just a baby goblin #she has the same energy as a neon green bouncy ball from a quarter machine that you take a bite out of #does that make sense?????

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kermit-coded · 2 days

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sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine. (3359 words) by kermit_coded Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Julio Richter/Shatterstar Characters: Julio Richter, Shatterstar (Marvel), Julio Richter's Stepmother Additional Tags: POV Julio Richter, Comic: X-Force Vol. 1 (1991), Mexico, Gay Mutant Road Trip, Gay and Mutant in the 1990s, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Violence, Period Typical Attitudes, Canon Queer Relationship, Canon Queer Character of Color, First Time, Getting Together, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Meeting the Parents, Blood and Injury, Explicit Sexual Content, Panic Attacks, Hair Braiding, ric is a little obsessed with star's hair, Nonbinary Shatterstar (Marvel), Its implied, Blood and Gore, Head Injury, showering together, Autistic Shatterstar (Marvel), guess who's projecting their religious trauma again!!, Self-Hatred, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Underage Drinking Summary: "I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time." . . . . Or, Mexico and everything that happens there.

#mexico road trip fic!!#my writing tag #rictor #julio richter #x factor #shatterstar #x force #ricstar #x men #marvel #x men fanfic #marvel fanfic #excelsiorfics

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kleenexwoman · 7 months

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@mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea made an amazing typo and look what happened

#personal #x men #marvel #x men fanfic #x men first class #x-meh

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bananabrain0 · 1 month

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Ugh that awkward moment when my favorite fanfic of my favorite pairing was written by me 🙄💅🏻

#ororo munroe #logan x men #x men fanfic

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summersnow82 · 6 months

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The Scent of Roses - Part 8

Fanfiction_X-Men

Fictober 2023_Prompt 31: “It’s not your fault.”

Author's note: A kind anon let me know my posts weren't showing up in the tags recently. Here's hoping that'll change. Thanks for sticking with me.

.....

Sabrina had been right: her class was not ready to discuss And Then There Were None – which was a shame because it’s a phenomenal read. Instead they had questions, concerns, fears to address, and a nasty rumor about Rogue Sabrina intended to nip in the bud immediately.

“Quiet down, quiet down!” She called, gaining her students attention. “Now let’s be clear here – there’s enough bickering outside these mansion walls. It will not happen in my classroom, understood?” The students all reluctantly nodded. “And further more,” she looked directly at Rogue who was staring at her desk a bit too intently. “Rogue did nothing wrong. Rogue.” The young woman looked up, surprised she was being called out so directly. “It’s not your fault. I made a choice, and some of my team were unhappy about it.” She turned to look at the other students, taking the time to meet their eyes. “I made the choice. Me. So if you want someone to blame look right here.”

Sabrina sighed, raking a hand through her hair. She hadn’t had time to put it in a French twist or a high ponytail like she preferred. She’d barely had time to grab a suitable outfit, but the blue and white polka dot midi dress with a flared skirt, short white gloves, a pale pink cardigan, and navvy ballet flats would have to do for now. She’d deal with her hair later. She moved to the front of her desk, perching on the edge to survey her class. “We’re going to use this class to talk about your concerns with this cure. Your hopes, your fears, all of it. So,” she stood, flashing them a smile, “let’s move these desks into a circle, shall we?”

….

His political appointment as Secretary of Mutant Affairs left Hank with little free time, and for this reason he’d resigned as a full time teacher at Xavier’s school. Still, when he was home he would often take three or four students under his wing for mentoring and academic expansion. Charles had also given him a small drama class to conduct, which oftentimes paired with Jean’s public speaking class. He’d yet to speak to Charles about his news from the President, and to his credit, the older man had let Hank marinate in his thoughts without prompting. But he’d had his cup of coffee – more than one, actually – and time to mull over a number of rising concerns and issues, and now he needed to find his old friend.

And probably take care of some hygiene issues on the way. He glanced down at his rumpled clothes and grimaced.

Xavier’s school had a number of classrooms, but not all of them were presently being used. Several teachers had resigned or left, which wasn’t uncommon. Hank and Sabrina had both left at one point or another, as had Warren and Kurt. Logan consistently behaved as if the front door were a revolving door. Their staff numbers were currently lower than ever, and many teachers were taking on several classes to make sure the students educational needs were being met. Logan was tackling history and shop class; Jean had genetics and public speaking; Sabrina was teaching English while acting as the guidance counselor; Storm had environmental sciences and art; Scott had mathematics and physical education; and the Professor was teaching ethics and psychology. Each adult was part of a rotation for the Danger Room training for the older students, and they were always paired up differently. Hank would need to check his schedule again and see if he needed to trade shifts.

His thoughts consumed him as he headed towards his room, and he didn’t realize he was passing Sabrina’s classroom until he was walking by the doorway. His eyes tracked the way her hair fell around her shoulders, how her eyes lit up as she spoke to her students, and how her lips always seemed to have a touch of a smile as she engaged with them. “All these feelings and thoughts are completely valid, guys,” she said, looking around the room. “We’re in uncharted waters, but I promise you there’s no one better to navigate this than Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy. You have the best of the best looking out for you.”

Hank couldn’t help himself. He turned on his heel, propped himself up in the classroom doorway, and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Do you really think so, Professor Snow?” His deep baritone made everyone look his way, but none looked more startled than Sabrina herself. She hadn’t realized she had an audience for her class. A chorus of cheers went up from the students – Hank was arguably one of the more popular teachers at Xavier’s school – and with his political position he was currently a hot topic on campus. Hank regarded the students warmly before turning his attention back to Sabrina. “I apologize, Professor Snow. I didn’t mean to crash your class.” He held her gaze as he spoke, watched her take a deep breath before she forced a smile.

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here.” Her tone told him he was actually not welcome at all, and a few of the students exchanged glances.

“Professor Snow, can Dr. McCoy join our conversation, too?” Kitty Pryde asked, glancing between the two of them. The younger woman was notably observant and direct.

Sabrina faltered for a moment, but then her mouth quirked up in a small smile. “Of course, Kitty. But I’m sure Dr. McCoy has many pressing items on his schedule. He probably doesn’t have the time.” She shot him a look that expressly told him to take the out she was offering. Instead, he all but smirked, pushing away from the door jamb and striding into the classroom like the cat who ate the canary. With amazing ease and grace he leapt in the air, somersaulted over the students heads, and came to stand next to Sabrina who was perched on her own desk.

“I’m never too busy for you,” he said to the class, but his eyes were on Sabrina’s. There wasn’t much she could do in front of the students without causing a scene; Hank knew it, she knew it, and he intended to take full advantage. “Now,” he said, projecting his voice and turning to face the kids. “What would you like to know?”

A number of hands shot up, and Hank chuckled. “What about you, Bobby?”

The younger man lowered his hand almost reluctantly, then said, “Are you going to get the cure, sir?”

Hank should’ve expected it, but he’d been too busy showboating and teasing Sabrina to consider the ramifications of this very serious topic. He probably looked as stunned as he felt, and for just a ghost of a moment Sabrina placed her gloved hand on his arm. “Bobby, that’s a very personal question,” she said gently.

“Yeah, but it kind of matters, right?” Kitty said. “I mean, if the teachers we’re learning from are considering getting it then maybe there’s some merit to it.”

Hank drew his mouth in a tight, firm line, and glanced over at Sabrina. “That’s a very good point, Kitty,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “If I’m being honest, I’ve thought of it, yes. I suppose every mutant with a visible mutation has considered it. It can be difficult when you can’t pass for a human. However,” he raised a finger. “There is still much we do not know about this so called cure. Will it last? Are there side effects? What else might it do to us?” He stepped away from the desk into the center of the desk-formed circle. “This cure has been released without – to our knowledge – long term testing, and perhaps questionable methods. I have been tasked with answering these questions, and more, and I will be leaving in a few days time to do just that.” He turned back to Sabrina, all seriousness and sincerity now. “I was hoping you might accompany me, Miss Snow. A talent like yours could prove invaluable to our team, and you have the credentials to back you up.” Sabrina’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for a moment before she clamped it shut. He gave her a small, genuine smile. “Something to consider, of course.”

More hands shot up in the air. Hank took his time answering a number of them, some technical, some incredibly simple, but all important to the students before him.

“What if they come for us here?” A young girl by the name of Jenna asked. Jenna was relatively new to the school, and still finding her voice, figuratively and literally.

The room got very quiet, and Hank rose to his full height. “Then I assure you, dear girl, that would be a most grave error on their part.”

“Professor Snow?” Rogue had been quiet for most of the class, but now she raised her eyes and looked Sabrina in the eye. “Are you going to get the cure?”

Hank turned to see Sabrina take a deep breath, let it loose, and hop down from her perch. She moved around the desk to the black board and began writing. “Anthony Smalls. Three years old. Taken from his home for a million dollar ransom.” Her hand moved quickly as she spoke, the clack-clack of the chalk the only sound other than her voice. “Violet Henries. Six years old. Taken from her school to sway a jury. Jonathan Edwards. Three months old. Taken by a jealous ex-wife. Julietta Gonzalez. Twelve years old. Taken for trafficking. Robert Sweat. Thirteen years old. Also taken for trafficking.” She continued on with a list of names and ages accompanying them with a reason for the kidnapping. The class was quiet as she worked, and Hank watched her as a new level of comprehension descended upon him.

Sabrina didn’t stop talking until the chalkboard – at least what she could reach of it – was filled with names. She turned back to the class. “These aren’t even half of the children I’ve been able to return to their homes and families alive because of my abilities. Another dozen were found postmortem, and the ability to bring their loved ones home offered the families a sense of closure.” She put the chalk down, dusted off her hands, and walked around her desk. She removed her gloves as she did so, securing them in her dress pockets. “I cannot touch anything or anyone,” her finger trailed over a desk causing her eyes to faintly glow. “Without taking something away. Memories, thoughts, emotions. In some cases, even talents and abilities. This makes relationships difficult.” She brushed by Hank as she spoke, and he tracked her path with curious eyes. “I walk into a room and I immediately can sense the atmosphere. This makes crowds difficult. I can’t go to concerts or movies on opening night or many special events. But I can assess danger quickly, read a person’s intentions, and bring children home to their families. Our lives as mutants are not easy ones; I know Professor Xavier has drilled this into you in his Ethics class. Oftentimes what we think is a curse is actually a gift. Maybe not for us, but for someone else.” She pointed at the chalkboard. “If I can do that, what can you do?” She turned to Rogue. “I won’t be getting the cure, no matter how much I might be tempted. Someone has to keep the real monsters at bay.”

#fictober23 #fictober #fictober 2023 #my fics #ao3 fanfic #x men fanfic #hank mccoy #kelsey grammer #sabrina snow #the scent of roses #rogue #kitty pryde #iceman #my ocs #hank mccoy x original female character #fanfiction #fanfic

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gremlinsinthegarden · 6 months

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It's so hard to find X-men fics on Ao3. Do you mean the 00s movies, the alternate universe movies, Logan (wherever that fits in), the 90s TV show, the teen TV show, the Gifted? Or did you mean the comics? Because we've got at least 10 separate realities going on in that crazy mess. Are you shipping Rogue/Logan from the comics where she's an adult, or the movies while she's underage, or pick and choose? Which Wolverine origin story are we going with? Is Deadpool around? Is there an Avengers crossover? Is Magneto a villian or a hero? Whose team are the characters on?

There's just so many variations and they're all canon. Ao3 just wasn't built to handle that sort of nonsense. So I search and search and try to find the weirdly specific thing I want to read that probably doesn't exist and I don't know enough about the X-men multiverse to feel confident about writing my own story.

#endrant

#x men #ao3 #fanfiction #x men fanfic #multiverse #That fandom is a mess #rant

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thequiver · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday - 11.Oct.2023

From my current WIP: Living a Nightmare in the Darkness of the Soul (aka David's Teddy Bear fic)

David greets them at the door, grinning from ear to ear. “You got him!” Kevin raises an eyebrow. “He took a nap in my apartment while I was at work.” David shrugs, ushering them inside. “Quit your job then Kev, I don’t know what to tell you.” “Did Kurt help you decorate?” Nate asks. “It’s cute.” David fidgets a bit where he stands, floating slightly above the floor. “Uhm…so about the house.” Nate sighs. “I am only going to ask you this once. Did you steal a house?” “No.” David looks thoroughly annoyed to have been accused of that. “It’s my old house.” “YOU WERE A HOMEOWNER?” Kevin blurts out, nearly dropping the frame in his hand. “I was eight.” David groans. “It was my mom’s house….provided to us by the government because she was an ambassador. I just ...recreated it how I remembered it.” Kevin frowns. “But why?” “It was the last time I was really happy I guess? I had a normal life and was just focused on what Papa and I would get up to while Mom was at meetings.” “Davey, I’m sure you were a great kid and all- but if I was your girlfriend I’d break up with you.” Kevin says, in an almost mocking slowness.

#wip wednesday #writing #fanfiction #xmen fanfiction #x men fanfic #david haller #nate grey #kevin mactaggert

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genderfluid-scribbles · 1 year

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//Have a Felicity, my X-Men OC, who can be found both here and at @felicity-xavier.

//She's roughly 17 years old here, before all hell broke loose during the events of "Days of Future Past"

#my art #xmen #xmen oc #xmen fanfiction #xmen fanfic #x men #x men oc #x men fanfiction #x men fanfic #x men days of future past #xmen days of future past #days of future past #xmen dofp #dofp #x men dofp

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countrymusiclover · 5 months

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One - The Man Who Can Control Metal

Battle of the Mind and Heart

Part 2

Tags - just send me an ask to be added @aintinacage

I am not sure how to really ever start the first chapter of my books. I hope I can figure out the dynamic. I want these two to go in at some point. If you have any tips on how that should go, dm me 👍

Germany, Poland 1944

Sliding on my black combat boots I pushed my hair out of my face. Standing up front the desk chair I was sitting in I could hear my father's footsteps coming closer down the hallway. I tied my hair up in a ponytail hearing the office door finally open revealing my father. He had dark brown hair and bright green eyes. Yet I resemble my mother overall with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. “Addison, you're coming to work with me today.”

“Alright whatever for?” I asked knowing that he normally kept me out of his work. Always saying it would be far too much for me to handle.

He fixed the top part of his jacket, sending me a half smirking yet proud smile. “There's someone very interested I'd like you to meet.” He headed out the door immediately and I was quick to follow his heels, he never cared for me if I was dragging along behind him.

We moved up and down some stairs then through a couple of different rooms until we entered an office and he shut the door behind me. He sat down in the chair behind the desk and I just decided to lean against the side before the door opened once more. Two soldiers enter, leading a young boy that looks to be my age of fourteen years old. “What is going on, father?”

“This boy was supposed to be going to the camps until he had a disagreement with some of the men. He bent a metal fence almost in half. He's not ordinary, my dear daughter.” My father almost sounded proud of such a feet.

Shifting my gaze to the young boy he avoided my gaze and watched the floor. “What's your name?”

“Erik…Erik Lehnsherr.” He paused in his answer. “I want to see my mother.”

Glancing over my shoulder I shiver asking the question. “Where's his mother?”

“That needn't be your concern, daughter. She is where she is supposed to be and he will see her again once he shows me what he can do.” My father picked up a bell out of the desk and the guards opened the door revealing a woman who Erik ran to, meaning it must be his mother. My father took out a handgun explaining. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to count to three…and you’re going to move the coin. You don’t move the coin, I pull the trigger.”

“Dad, no. You can’t!” I attempted to grab the gun from him but he had the two guards by the door grab me and pin me down on my knees and just watch. “One….two….three.”

Erik couldn’t move the coin and I cried out watching his mother get shot. Yet the young boy didn’t dare turn around before he bent the bell and the metal cabinet. Throwing my elbow backwards into one of the guards they tried to grab me but at the same time he managed to crush the metal helmets on their heads until they died beside his mother. “Erik…” I breathe put covering my face until all the metal lab objects stopped getting thrown around above my head.

Uncovering my eyes I gasped eyeing his mother's dead body on the floor. He started crying in anger with my father apalding him. “Outstanding, Erik. So we unlock your gift with anger.” He placed the coin in his hand and headed for the door.

“How could you do that to him!” Rushing forward I grabbed my father's arm and he winced and I saw my hand turn red. Quickly drawing my hand backwards I saw it disappear before he could see I had some power of my own. As far as he knew I was just human like my mother.

My father Sebastian turned around to face me. “He's not like everyone else and I wish to see what he can truly do.” He left the office without saying another word to me or to the boy behind me.

“Erik, I….I'm sorry.” I noticed that he hasn't moved from where he stood and I did consider touching his shoulder. Yet decided no seeing the state he was in now.

He slowly glanced at me sniffing through tears. “You’re a monster, Addison!” I didn’t like the way he said my name for the first time which such anger and hate. Wrapping my arms around myself I left the room figuring it would be hard to gain any trust with him now.

Years later

Things haven't gotten any better between Erik and I. My father has kept me out of the supposed research he calls it. Yet I found out the truth a little while ago…about two years after we met. It was the middle of the night as I made my way down to the sort of bunker room they were keeping Erik in. It had no metal seeing as he could escape. Shutting the door behind me he sat up slightly in the bed but scoffed the second he saw it was me. “What are you doing here!”

“I brought you some extra food from my dinner if you want it.” Reaching inside my jacket I tossed him a zip lock bag that had some biscuits and a half slice of meat seeing that they didn't feed him well.

He caught the bag looking me in the eye briefly. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because I'm not like my father, Erik.” I responded with my hands inside my pockets.

The young mutant boy sat in silence just eating the food that I had given him. Moving downward I sat across from him with my hands laying in my lap. I wasn’t sure what to say to him. I knew that he didn’t trust me. “What is the real reason you’re talking to me?”

“Because I heard that they're shutting down everything. The camps, the experiments, everything. My father is packing to get out of here and not get executed. But I thought you should know that I’m here to help you get out of here.” Glancing over my shoulder I watched the door behind us counting down the minutes, figuring if my father found out where I was I would never see Erik again.

Erik stared at me finishing his food before he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. I noticed the numbers that had been marked onto his left forearm and it made me feel guilty that he was suffering. “You’re really willing to help me, I still don’t understand why.”

“Come with me and you’ll see that I’m someone you can trust.” Raising myself to my feet offering him my hand.

He hesitantly placed his hand in mine asking one more question before I helped him sneak out before we could get caught. “What am I supposed to call you, Shaw girl?”

“Addison is too formal. Call me Addi.”

He got to his feet heading for the door twisting the doorknob and we both saw some flashing lights going down the hallway. He quickly turned his attention to me. “So what exactly is the plan now?”

“How about this? Since I am helping you get out of here then you agree to never hurt or try to kill me.” I suggested shrugging my shoulders.

Erik actually agreed to my shock and awe. “Fine, Shaw girl. But you'll help me find the ones who hurt me.” I squeezed his hand that was still looped with his saying that I agreed in silence before began running and haven't stopped since then.

Shutting the hotel room door behind me with my foot I didn’t hear the tv or anything on in which could only mean that Erik had either left or was just plotting in silence. Sliding my boots off of my feet at the door I paused in the doorway. “How long have you been staring at that wall?”

“That’s not your concern.” He grumbled moving the coin from my father between his fingers, never looking away from the board with pinned maps and pictures leading up to my father’s picture.

Crossing my arms over my chest I huffed. “Maybe it is my business considering the only time you leave is to kill some other Nazi members. So forgive me for being concerned.”

“I didn’t ask you to free me that night, Addison.” He scoffed using my full name knowing I didn’t care for it.

Waving my index finger at him I stepped away from the wall and to the foot of the bed. “I told you to not call me that, Lehnsherr!”

“Addison.” He just kept going until I crawled up onto the bed putting my hands on either side of his head glaring at the man in front of me.

The entire time he just kept moving the coin until I managed to snatch it from him. My freehand landed down on his thigh and he winced where I realized what I was doing and drew my hand back. “Sorry that I might actually care about you after what happened to your family. If you’re gonna hate me for the rest of our lives I guess I’ll just go!”

“Addison….” Erik called for me but I was already around the corner to my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. He noticed the coin had been dropped on the floor and so he slowly used his power, levitating it once more and then launching it right to my father’s forehead.

Once the door was shut I flopped down on my bed screaming into my pillow. A few minutes after that I heard the desk lamp move and a few markers and some of my shoes go flying around…everything had some tiny bit of metal inside them. “Urgh! Why did I have to touch him.” I scolded myself under my breath in frustration.

Sitting upright on the foot of the bed I put my face in my hands. “At some point he'll figure it out.” Raising my right hand I made the pen start to levitate in the air since I still had Erik's power running from my veins for a short time. Laying my head back on the pillow I just stared at the ceiling.

My father couldn't know the truth that I had my own mutation. Because if he knew he would have done everything that he did to Erik on his own daughter. So if them other mutant I was living with needed to hate me then I'd accept it. Since I didn't feel like I could be myself…my true self and that maybe I was broken since I could only take power from others and I didn't have my own abilities.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

The metal controlling mutant sat in silence and finally moved his gaze to my locked door. He felt slightly guilty and confused for treating you badly over the years but he couldn’t see past what he knew. That your father was the man who ruined his life…even though you decided to help him he wouldn’t let his heart change the mission he had inside his head.

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takenbypeter · 4 months

Text

Pancakes and Whipped Cream

Hank McCoy x reader

Words: 445

Number 23: “Wait...are you making pancakes? Can I help?" (He seems like the type of person who cooks)

Requested by anonymous in my asks, sorry for taking so long to answer

Hank was a man of many qualities. He was smart, he was funny, he was attractive, he was a wonderful boyfriend. Simply when you thought he could not get any better, he did.

As usual he’s spent the past night in his lab. You didn’t mind, you knew he was a busy man with something always running through that intelligent brain of his.

So like most nights you paid him a final visit for the day and with a small kiss you bid him goodnight, reminding him not to stay up too late, which of course he never listened to.

And just like that you fell asleep alone. Most of the time when you woke up the next morning Hank was there beside you, but this morning you woke up just as you had fallen asleep, alone.

But unlike most mornings, you smelled something. Something yummy. With a quick morning stretch you set off towards the kitchen where of course the smell originated from.

In that kitchen was the culprit, Hank who was standing towards the stove with a frying pan in hand and a plate full of fluffy pancakes beside him.

“Wait…are you making pancakes? What world am I living in?”

“Ha-ha,” he gave a dry laugh to your tease.

You grin, pulling up a stool, “can I help?”

“Absolutely not. This is for you!”

“So what? I can’t help?”

“No.”

You slouched in your seat now bored with having nothing to do.

“I’m practically done anyway,” he said as he placed what seems to be the last pancake on the stack. You quickly grab some plates and syrup and put them on the small table close by.

Hank sets some pancakes on your plate and then his before putting the rest back on the counter.

You pour some syrup to cover the fluffy breakfast and right when you’re about to dig in, Hank stops you.

He gets up and quickly grabs a can of whipped cream from the fridge before spraying it on your pancakes.

“I know this doesn’t make up for the nights that you spend alone…” he sprayed his own pancakes with the whipped cream before setting it down.

So that’s what this was about.

Even though you would tell him you didn’t mind his work time and time again, he still seemed to have a guilty feeling about it.

All you could do was shake your head at his words, “that’s okay this can be a start,” you tease waving a forkful of pancakes and whipped cream before tossing it into your mouth, happy enough.

Hank didn’t know how but he was going to make it up to you, someway.

Dialogue Prompt #2

#hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy imagine #hank mccoy fanfiction #hank mccoy fanfic #xmen imagine #xmen fanfiction #xmen fanfic #xmen x reader #x men x reader #x men imagine #x men fanfic #x men fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic #dialogue prompt 2

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practically-an-x-man · 1 year

Note

Because we were just talking about it, have a pringles OC writing prompt. How about an X-Men one with Peter and Marigold. You probably know them well enough by now but there's always Mari's toyhouse.

(sentence/dialogue prompt)

"Quit smiling at me, I can't stop messing up sentences when you look at me like that,"

If you need more lmk but also no pressure

Sorry it took me so long to get around to this! It took me forever to come up with something good with this prompt, and admittedly I was a little worried that I wouldn't get Mari right. Weirdly, she was harder to write then Arith and Iriel, even though you've got so much more written for her.

But anyway, I hope this is cute! It's about 1.4k words, definitely not my longest piece of writing, but I think it's fun. Oh, and here's a song that'll be important as you read.

If there was one thing you could count on Peter Maximoff for (aside from saving lives and cracking terrible jokes), it was his taste in music. He’d been suggesting the karaoke night for weeks, but it was only when a karaoke machine mysteriously appeared in the rec room that he was able to put it into motion.

“You paid for that, right?” Marigold asked, eyeing the hunk of silver and black plastic as her partner fiddled with it. Peter twisted over his shoulder to look at her. His dark eyes were sparkling with a familiar mischievous light, and she knew the answer before he even said it.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug, though a smile kept twitching at the corners of his lips. Marigold sighed.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” she said, “Eventually someone’s going to realize it’s you.”

“Psh,” he replied, looking amused, “I’m too good. They couldn’t catch me if they tried. And anyway, I’ll give it back tomorrow. I just need it for tonight.”

“Alright,” Mari agreed. She couldn’t say she had the cleanest record herself (it came with the territory of being an X-Man), but she figured there were worse things than just borrowing it for the night. Besides, it was a Monday - who goes out for karaoke on a Monday? They probably wouldn’t even miss it.

“Do you need help setting it up?” she asked instead, taking a few steps closer and crouching beside Peter as he kept working on the machine. He thought for a second.

“No, I think I’m okay.” he said, “But we could test it out. Gotta make sure it works before tonight.”

“What song?”

“Let’s see what’s in there,” Peter answered. He pressed a button on the side of the machine, and a CD port slid open. There was already a disc in there (Willie Nelson - yikes), but Peter plucked it out and set it on top of the machine. He leaned back on his heels, fingers drumming restlessly on his knees over the span of a few heartbeats.

“Alright, I’ve got it.” he said suddenly, then disappeared in a flash of silver. He was back almost before Mari realized he’d gone, and dropped another CD into the port with eager, excited movements.

“What’d you pick?” Marigold asked, trying to spot the label on the CD as it slid into the karaoke machine. She couldn’t quite pick it out in time.

“Stevie Nicks.” Peter answered with a grin, fighting to untangle the microphone wires. Mari smiled. He knew that was one of her favorites.

Peter bounced up to his feet, holding out a hand to her. Marigold took it and let him pull her up to her feet, accepting the microphone he handed to her. He held a second one up in front of his face.

“Testing, testing, one-two-” he started, then winced at the burst of noise that spewed through the speakers, “Shit, that’s too-”

He darted over and twisted the volume knob, grateful when the echo faded from the room. Tentatively, he lifted the microphone back up.

“Test?” he repeated, a little quieter that time, “Okay, good, that’s better. Try yours.”

Marigold lifted up her microphone, wincing a little at the smell of metal and old beer that clung to it.

“Did you get this from a bar?” she asked, forgetting that she was supposed to be testing the microphone. Peter reached out and lowered the volume before her voice could boom through the speakers.

“Yeah?” he replied, tilting his head at her, “Where else do you do karaoke?”

“I thought you took it from a RadioShack or something.” she answered, giving a sidelong look to the microphone in her hand. She knew it wasn’t exactly unclean, but there was something about it, and the thought that so many other hands had touched it before her, that made her skin crawl. It even felt a little sticky, but that might’ve just been her imagination.

Peter must have noticed her expression, because his eyebrows furrowed. A moment later, he’d zipped away again, only to return right in front of her. He had a Clorox wipe in one hand. The other reached for the microphone.

“Here, let’s wipe it off,” he said.

“You read my mind,” Marigold responded gratefully, “Be right back. I’m gonna go wash my hands.”

When she returned, feeling much better after scrubbing the unpleasant bar-smell residue off her hands, Peter was wiping down his own microphone as well. When he’d finished with that, he ran the Clorox wipe over the front of the karaoke machine, over all the buttons and knobs, then tossed it in the trash and wiped off his hands on the front of his shirt.

“Alright.” he said, “Better?”

“Much better,” she agreed, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey.” He handed her the microphone once again - this time it had the pleasant if chemically lemon-smell of the Clorox wipe - then crouched down to start the song. They were greeted to soft strains of acoustic guitar, mingled with a light music-box chiming. Mari smiled as she came in with the first lyrics.

“Is love so fragile and the heart so hollow?” she sang, feeling a little self-conscious at first. She got over it quickly. There was nobody in the room but her and Peter, what was there to be embarrassed about? “Shatter with words, impossible to follow.”

From her right, she caught Peter’s eyes. She saw nothing but soft affection on his face for a moment, until he realized she was looking at him. That gentle expression was quickly replaced with teasing as he stuck his tongue out at her. Marigold rolled her eyes but kept singing.

“You’re saying I’m fragile, I try not to be,” she continued, “I search only for something I can’t see.”

Despite herself, she found her eyes straying over to Peter again. And again, she caught a flash of something warm across his face… and then he crossed his eyes at her. Mari laughed before she could stop herself.

“Stop distracting me!” she demanded, pointedly turning her eyes away from him before she could miss the next line in the song, “I have my own life, and I am stronger than you know.”

“I’m not distracting you!” Peter insisted, “I’m just looking at you! Am I not allowed to look at you?”

She elected to ignore him.

“But I carry this feeling,” Marigold sang, “When you walked into my-” She made the mistake of turning around, and found her partner giving her the goofiest expression he could muster - teeth bared, eyes bugged out, like he was doing his best impersonation of a dollar-store Halloween mask. Mari couldn’t help it. She broke down into a fit of giggles.

“Stop that!” she laughed, reaching out to push lightly at his shoulder.

“Stop what?” Peter fired back, grinning wide enough to make dimples crease his cheeks.

“Quit smiling at me!” Marigold insisted, “I can’t stop messing up sentences when you look at me like that!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Peter said, lifting his palms in surrender.

“You’re making faces!”

“What faces? Mare-bear, this is just my face!”

“Mare-bear,” she repeated, giving him a look even as she tried to hold back her own laughter, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ah, you love me.” he teased, then added, “Mare-bear.”

“Stop it!” Marigold laughed, smiling so hard it hurt.

“You do!”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” he repeated, “What, singing karaoke got me bumped down to maybe status?”

“No, ‘Mare-bear’ got you bumped down to maybe status.” she fired back, though the threat didn’t hold much meaning when she still couldn’t pull the smile off her face.

“Then I’ll just have to win you back with my incredible singing,” Peter said, lifting the microphone to his lips with a flourish, “Careful, Mari, I’m irresistible.”

“Maybe.”

“Again with the ‘maybe’!” he blurted, then shrugged and shot her a wink, “You’ll see.”

With all his teasing, he almost missed his entrance to the song, but he recovered quickly enough.

“You in the moonlight, with your sleepy eyes,” Peter sang, reaching out a hand like he was an overly-dramatic actor in a music video, “Would you ever love a man like me?”

He turned to face her, giving her his best romantic look as he kept singing. Marigold just scrunched her nose at him, then stuck out her tongue. Peter barked out a laugh, his dark eyes brightening even as he missed his cue for the next lyric.

“Uh- When I walked into your house, I knew I’d never want to leave,” he corrected quickly, but Marigold was already grinning.

“See?” she teased, triumphant, “I messed you up!”

#my friends!!!#not my ocs #x men fanfic #fanfic author #my writing #marigold rosales #peter maximoff #leapsecond #quicksecond

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