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make-me-imagine · 1 year

Text

More Than Anything

Plot: It's hard having feelings for someone you fear is not over their ex. It's even harder when you get the courage to tell them, only to see them giving flowers to someone else.

Pairing: Scott Summers x Gn!Reader *Reader referenced to have invisibility

Prompt: 'Thinking your crush asked someone else to be their Valentine, but then they ask you.' <didn't use this exactly, but more or less

Requested By: Anonymous

Warnings: Misunderstandings, a little angsty, talk of unrequited love. But I promise it has a good ending!

Words: 2.1k

You let out a sigh as you stared at the small box on your bed. Was it too much? Was it too little? Is it too cheesy? Would he want them at all? What will he say when you give them to him?

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the box and stared down at it for a second. You needed to do this. You had been agonizing over it for weeks, months even.

Fighting the urge to never confess to Scott how you felt about him. It burned you alive from the inside out. You needed to know if there was ever going to be a chance for the two of you to be more than friends. Because what you wanted more than anything, was to be with him.

There were a few moments when it almost came up naturally, but you backed out lat second, terrified he would reject you.

So when Valentines Day approached you thought you could use a gift as an excuse. Use it to confess how you felt. And if it seemed like he didn't reciprocate, tell him it's just a gift to a friend, and the fact that it was Valentines Day, is just a coincidence.

Your chest tightened at the thought. Even if he wouldn't believe that, you needed to know, even if it would break your heart.

Finally gaining some courage, you left your room and headed towards Scott's. You hoped he would be there rather than somewhere else in the school. You didn't feel like marching around the school with a gift in your hands, there are too many prying eyes. Though, you could always make yourself be unseen.

As you got closer to his room, your legs seemed to get heavier and heavier as your steps slowed and your chest tightened. You felt like you couldn't breath.

Hearing Scott's voice, your ears perked up as your heart seemed to flutter. Was he with someone? Should you come back later?

Your curiosity dragged you closer, and you felt your stomach twist when you heard Jean's voice.

"They're beautiful Scott."

Unable to resist, you made yourself invisible before quickly peaking into the open doorway. You looked only for a second, even knowing he wouldn't see you.

Seeing a bouquet of beautiful flowers in Scott's hands, and Jean right in front of him, you felt your breath catch and your stomach twist. Stepping away, you let out a soft painful breath as your hand gripped the gift tightly.

Turning, you quickly left, fighting the tears that threatened to build up. You had hoped you would be able to take something like this with more grace, but you were wrong.

Making it back to your room, you leaned against your closed door as your eyes burned. Your chest was tight and your stomach was in a knot. Hitting your head softly against the door you let out a shaky breath.

At least you knew.

Tossing the gift onto your desk, you sat down on your bed, your whole body seeming to lose it's strength.

At least you knew. But why did it have to hurt so much?

--- --- ---

The next day went by with only a few run-in's with Scott. Unable to face him just yet, you avoided him, and you were sure he noticed.

You figured you would tell him you did't feel good, or you had a headache and didn't feel like talking. Would he believe you?

Even if he didn't you couldn't tell him the real reason, not now. It didn't matter if he knew or not anymore.

You tore away at the grass underneath you as you stared off into the trees. You were at the edge of campus, just out of sight of anyone on the school grounds, no one knew you were here. Or so you thought.

Scott went to your room to find you, concerned something was wrong. You seemed to be avoiding him all day and he was worried. Did he do something? Did something happen you didn't want him to know about?

He wanted to see you, to talk to you, he had plans. But now something was wrong and he didn't know what to do.

Knocking on the door, but hearing no response, Scott turned the door knob and walked in. He probably shouldn't have, but he feared you may be inside, just unwilling to answer the door.

Looking and listening around closely, making sure you hadn't gone invisible, he sighed. You were in fact, not in your room. He let out a sigh as he turned to leave. But he stopped s his eye caught on something on the desk.

A long thin box, with his name on it. Walking over to it, he pulled it closer. He shouldn't open it, you hadn't given it to him. But why would you have a gift for him? He felt his heart flutter. Was it for Valentines Day?

Taking the box, he put it into his pocket and left, having one more idea of where he might be able to find you.

Hearing someone walking closer, you made yourself invisible, not wanting to speak t anyone.

As the footsteps grew closer, you didn't bother looking back, just assuming it was a student.

The footsteps stopped, and your heart jolted when a voice called out

"Y/n."

You looked back, seeing Scott staring right at you. You knew his glasses allowed him to see the signature of your body even if you were invisible. Something created for him when another mutant with invisibly broke into the school.

As you became fully visible again, Scott could see in your eyes that something was wrong.

Walking up to you, he let out a sigh as he sat down beside you, turning so he was facing you.

"You've been avoiding me."

You looked away from him and down at the ground again as you played with the grass. "Why would you think that?"

Scott smiled softly, but there was sadness behind it.

"Because even if something is really bothering you, you still talk to me about it. Which makes me think I'm the thing that is bothering you."

"You're not bothering me Scott." You replied, but there was an obvious sadness in your voice.

He frowned, worry filling his gut even more. Moving closer to you, his knees almost touching you, he leaned closer "What's going on Y/n?"

You forced a smile and shook your head as you looked over at him "I'm just not feeling all that well."

Scott frowned, there was truth in what you were saying, but there was something else. Something you couldn't seem to admit.

He looked down at his hands for a moment "I needed to talk to you about something, but if you're feeling bad it can wait."

You felt guilt ripple through you. He was always there when you needed someone to talk to, but now you were avoiding him. You had a feeling in your gut, a painful one, that he was going to tell you that he got back together with Jean. You didn't want to hear it, it would tear you apart, but you were his friend.

You turned to face him straight on "You can always talk to me." You said softly, though your chest ached.

He looked back up, and though he wore his glasses, you could feel his eyes burning into yours.

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled something out, and you felt your heart stop.

"I went to your room to find you earlier, and found this instead. I didn't open it, but curiosity got the best of me." He could see the surprise on your face and wondered what it meant.

"That's-" you could barely find your words "-for Valentines Day." You finished mumbling out, having been unable to find another excuse.

Scott's heart did a cartwheel as he smiled at you "You got me a gift?"

You nodded your face almost blank as you feared what would come next.

"Can I open it?"

You nodded again, your heart pumping heavy in your chest.

Scott opened the box, revealing a new pair of glasses, a similar style to his own, but they had their own uniqueness to them. His smile grew as he looked down at them.

"I had them made like your others. Yours are getting old and I know how you are about asking for new ones."

He grinned as he took them out, looking over them. You watched as he took off his glasses, eyes clenched shut before putting yours on. Looking up at you again, he smiled brightly and you couldn't resist your own smile widening.

"They look good." You complimented.

"Thank you Y/n"

He watched as you shyly looked down at the ground again, as you pulled at the weeds.

"Those aren't what you wanted to talk to me about are they?" You asked softly before looking back up at him.

You could always see through him. "Uh, no, not really."

Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, stopping you from pulling out weeds. You looked up at him as he encased your hand with his.

"I wanted to tell you how I felt-"

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, your heart was pounding so heavily you could feel it in your head. How he felt about what? About who?

"-about you." He finished slowly, and you felt as though time froze.

"...About me?" You asked softly.

You felt his fingers caress the top of your hand, and it sent shivers up your arms.

"I wasn't originally going to tell you like this. I wanted to invite you to dinner with me, and tell you then, but...I can't hold it in anymore."

You felt a wave of dizziness wash over you before you shook your head lightly "But-" Scott looked at you with a frown "What about Jean?"

"What about Jean?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

"I though- well, I thought what you were going to tell me, was that you two were back together."

You saw confusion cross his face, and started to wonder if you imagined it all.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well yesterday... when I went to give you the glasses, I overheard, and I saw you give her flowers." There was confusion and doubt in your voice, as you spoke.

Realization hit Scott like a train before he lowered his head with a sigh. You watched as he shook his head and looked back up at you.

"Those flowers weren't for Jean, they were for you. She saw me taking them into my room and asked about them, that was what you saw."

He saw realization cross your own face, as you seemed to slowly grow more embarrassed.

"Wait is- is that why you were avoiding me?"

You seemed to look down in shame and Scott couldn't help the laugh that escaped. Your head shot up as you stared at him wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry." He shook his head "I just- no, no me and Jean are not back together. And I'm sorry you thought that, I hate that you thought that."

Tugging your hand closer again, he brought his other hand to your face, making you look at him.

"Let me start over. The only person in this world I have feelings for is you. I've been head over heels for you since we became friends. I've been a coward for so long, taking so long to tell you how I felt. Fearing you didn't feel the same but, but you do."

It wasn't quite a statement and not a question, but it held a desperation for reassurance. And with a subtle nod of your head, you gave it to him, and he smiled.

"I don't want to be a coward anymore Y/n. I want you to know how I feel. That I adore you, I adore everything about you, and I want to be able to see you and know that your mine. My person, my best-friend and lover, my partner, everything. I want that more than anything. "

You felt as though you couldn't breath as your eyes burned from the emotion welling up inside you.

"I want that too." You whispered out, just loud enough for him to hear.

He grinned at you as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. You lifted your hand and placed it over his as he cupped your cheek.

Your noses pressed together briefly as his lips ghosted over yours. Your eyes fluttered closed just as his lips pressed fully against yours. A shiver ran through your body as butterflies erupted in your stomach. You wanted Scott to love you more than anything. And he did.

xx End xx

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heliads · 2 years

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Sunbeam

You and Peter Maximoff have been best friends since forever, as evident by the nickname he won't stop calling you. It's a shame, then, that you might be feeling something a little stronger than just friendship.

masterlist

a/n: this has been in my drafts since november bc i have been afraid to post anything that wasn't a request but Too Bad For You! i am now uncontrollable by man or beast so you get the fic anyway :)

Your footsteps echo through the halls of Xavier’s school. You skid around corners, not exactly running but certainly moving faster than a mere walk. The bell will ring in just a few seconds, and you’re still not at the training room. You manage to slip inside the door moments before class starts, and quickly make your way to the back of the crowd of students before the instructor can notice that you were almost late.

You think you’ve managed to avoid getting called out for your near miss, but as you disappear into the group of mutants flung to the far corners of the room, you hear a voice behind you.

“You took your time getting here, huh, sunbeam?”

You groan, but can’t hide a smile. “Do you always have to call me that?”

Peter Maximoff is grinning at you when you turn around. “Obviously. It fits, doesn’t it?”

You roll your eyes. “Just because my mutation has to do with creating light doesn’t mean you have to use the nickname.”

Peter shrugs. “Come up with a better one, and I’ll use it. I happen to like sunbeam a lot.”

You reach over to shove him on the shoulder, but Peter, as always, manages to move a little faster than you and dodges it just in time.

“Of course you like it, you’re not the one being called sunbeam all the time. You do know no one else calls me that but you, right?” You counter.

Peter snorts. “Yeah, because I’m the one who created it.”

You add one last bit under your breath, but he still hears you. “Because it’s a terrible nickname?”

Peter gives you a look. “Because it’s a great nickname, and they’re simply jealous of my insanely good nickname-creating abilities.”

You’re about to challenge this, but another one of your friends breezes into a spot in between the two of you. “Quit flirting, you two, we’re about to start class.”

You and Peter both make faces at Jean Grey at the exact same time.

“Jean, just because you’re dating the least romantic person on the planet doesn’t mean everyone else flirts by just talking to each other.” Peter says, and Jean rolls her eyes.

“Oh, shut it, Peter. I hope today’s a combat lesson, because I kind of want to punch you in the face.”

You laugh at that. “We all want to punch Peter, that’s just normal.”

Peter narrows his eyes at you, and crosses around Jean to wind up next to you in the span of half a second. “Is that true, Y/N? You’d punch your friend?”

You make a face at him. “Gladly. You’d deserve it, too.”

Peter holds his serious face for a second longer, then loses it in a laugh. He’s never been able to stay upset around you for more than a little while. It’s the same with you. That’s why the two of you are friends, actually. When you get on everyone else’s nerves when you never stop making jokes, you go find the one other person who’s exactly like you– Peter.

True to Jean’s wishes, today is indeed a combat class, although you’re just doing drills. You and Peter partner up automatically, and join the other students in lining up in orderly rows throughout the training room. The Professor has been insistent that everyone should know how to defend themselves if necessary, although you are allowed to use your powers to improve your chances at winning.

Peter aims a lightning-fast punch at your head, stopping just shy of hitting you. You don’t flinch; you never do. Sometimes, you think that’s a sign that you should probably practice combat with someone other than Peter, because you’ve never been able to get it into your head to actually fear him hurting you. All the same, you can’t quite convince yourself to pick anyone else. Maybe Jean was right about the flirting comment after all, although you’d never admit it to her face.

It’s your turn to go now, and you flash a bright beam of light at Peter’s face. This causes him to blink slightly, dazed, and in that time you’re able to lunge forward and aim a kick at his chest. Unlike most of your other opponents, Peter is able to recover in barely any time at all, and one of his hands flies up to catch your foot just before it connects with his chest. You’re expecting this, though, and your second attack hits him in the shoulder.

Peter grimaces slightly, shaking it off. “Nice one, sunbeam.” He grins at your exasperated look. “And no, I’m not giving that up anytime soon.”

The two of you continue with the drills, exchanging sarcastic comments all the while. Despite all the times you’ve complained about the nickname, he’s still the only one you allow to use it. Read into that as you will, but you prefer to not think about it all.

The more you think about it, the more you realize that you might want something more from Peter Maximoff than just friendship. And, seeing as Peter moves on faster from anything than anyone you’ve ever met, you can’t afford to lose him. Especially not if you scare him off by wanting more than he can offer. So, you keep your silence, and pretend you don’t want to smile as brightly as the light from your mutation whenever you hear his favorite nickname for you.

You and Peter walk through the school together after class, specifically choosing a path where you come across the fewest number of people possible. There is no thundering noise like the sound that echoes through the halls of a school for mutants, and simultaneously, no silence like the quiet of finding a moment alone.

Peter pushes open the doors that lead outside to the ground, and you let your eyes flicker shut happily as the fresh air washes over you. In a way, you think your powers are somewhat connected to the actual sun– the more time you spend in its gaze, the better.

When you open your eyes, you notice that Peter isn’t paying attention to the rolling hills, but looking at you instead. He’s wearing this soft sort of smile that you don’t usually see on him. He’s traded in his usual self-assured smirk for contemplative happiness, as easy as changing clothes. You let yourself look back at him for a moment too long, and you swear you could let it go on forever.

But you’ve got places to be, things to see. You and Peter aren’t just wandering aimlessly, you’re both walking to Xavier’s office to hear something about an upcoming mission. You’ve been hearing snatches of rumors about this assignment for a while now, but nothing’s set in stone yet. You know that it involves the entire team of X-Men, so it must be important, but the rest will be revealed later.

Jean is already in the Professor’s office when you get there, and Scott, Storm, and Kurt show up soon enough. Once you’ve all gathered together, Xavier begins to talk. There’s a gathering of young mutants happening in a building near the school. It’s a way for children who have just gained mutations to figure out what to do next, a stepping off place of sorts for them to leave their normal lives behind and learn how to live with their powers. This sort of thing has started happening a lot recently; it’s how you learned about Xavier’s school in the first place, actually.

The only problem is that the Professor has heard rumors of a planned attack on the conference. That’s why he’s sending all of you, so you can act as guards and make sure the younger mutants will be alright. After about half an hour of discussion, you’re ready to go. Xavier only just heard about the attack, so you’ll be shipping out in an hour or so. Not a lot of time to prepare, certainly, but that’s just life as one of the X-Men. Constant battles are nothing new.

The X-Jet touches down in a quieter part of town about two hours later. You, Peter, Jean, and the rest file out quietly, with the Professor giving you directions over a headset. Due to the volatile nature of this mission, and the fact that an attack could come at any second, you all collectively decided that it would be best if Xavier remained on the plane. Although he is certainly a powerful mutant, none of you can afford him getting injured or taken out in the fight.

You find the building soon enough. It’s a tall office building, with many stories of glass windows and concrete and steel walls. You and the rest of the X-Men exchange glances, then head inside. You meet with the event organizers soon enough, who seem grateful to have you. It must be terrifying, knowing that the attack is coming but going through with the conference anyway.

The X-Men spread out to different corners and floors of the building, all of you on high alert. Peter’s on the floor below you, although you walk together until you reach the stairwell.

He turns to you one last time before disappearing through the doors, tossing you a familiar half-smile like this is just another day of training. “See you later, sunbeam. Try not to get killed.”

You manage a smile in return. “You too, Peter.”

Then he’s gone, and you’re left to stare at the closing door. You have no idea how deadly this attack will be, if it will even happen at all. All you can do is watch, wait, and hope that all of your friends will be alright. You pace back and forth, making sure nothing out of the ordinary happens.

After a moment, you see it. A few dark, armored trucks are pulling into the parking lot, even though the event started at least an hour ago and the new arrivals have essentially stopped. Everyone who’s supposed to be here has already shown up, and anyone who’s arriving– well, you don’t know who they could be. You drift closer to a row of windows, and stare at the men starting to pour out of the trucks.

Instantly, you’re reaching for your earpiece. “Guys, I think I have eyes on the attackers. Armored trucks, east side of the building in the parking lot. There’s a lot of them.”

A moment later, Jean's voice crackles into being. “I see them. I think there’s around three dozen. Get the kids out now.”

You fling yourself into action, shouting for the organizers to round up the mutant kids and get them out of there. You help carry the kids who are too young to run as fast as they need to, and make sure everyone gets out. You’re too high up to risk the elevators, as those are likely one of the first targets of the attackers, so you direct everyone towards the stairs.

You look around you, but you think everyone is out of your floor. You radio this into your earpiece, and after a few minutes, you hear confirmation from Storm and Scott that they’ve done the same. Peter’s already making trips to get people out as fast as he can (which, incidentally, is very, very fast), and Kurt is starting to teleport people who can’t get out as easily. Jean is heading towards the parking lot to slow down the attackers, so you start to do the same.

A few moments later, your feet hit the asphalt as you run through the front doors. You fling up wide beams of light to blind your opponents, making it easy to take them down before they even see you. Light appears in your hands like daggers, slicing through weapons and dismantling enemy technology before it can be used.

Jean runs up beside you, breathing hard. “These guys are done for. I’ve taken down one of the other trucks, too. I think we’re done.”

You start to nod, then frown. “Wait, did you get the third truck of soldiers?”

Jean’s face falls. “What do you mean, third truck? I thought there were only two.”

You shake your head frantically. “No, I saw three. We have to find them now, before it’s too late.”

Jean starts to cast around with her powers, searching for the remaining guards. After a moment, her face contorts with horror. “It’s too late.”

A half second later, you hear a massive explosion. Behind you, smoke and fire issues from the building, but you can’t see anything that’s happening, because the blast from the building knocks you back into the ground and you can’t feel anything at all.

You don’t know how long you were unconscious, but when you wake, ears ringing, you can’t seem to keep track of anything at all.

You stagger to your feet. “Jean. Jean!”

Your friend materializes out of the heavy, dark smoke that seems to choke out everything nearby. “I’m here. Guys, radio in if you’re safe. Y/N’s with me.”

You hear a voice spark to life over your earpiece. “This is Scott, I’m safe. I’ve got eyes on Storm, and she’s fine.”

Storm confirms this, and Kurt teleports to your side to prove that he’s alright.

You’re still missing someone. “Peter, you alright?”

There’s no answer, not even a crackle of static. You try again. “Peter, come in.”

Nothing. There’s a heavy sort of horror that’s starting to lodge itself in your throat, one that you can’t seem to claw out.

“Peter!”

Silence. Jean’s staring at you, and starting to say something, but you can’t seem to concentrate. Why can’t you hear him?

“Have any of you seen Peter?”

Beside you, Kurt is starting to shake his head. “Last time I saw him was before the blast. He was heading inside to find more people.”

You swallow hard. “He was still in there?”

Kurt can’t meet your eyes. “I think so.”

You stumble slightly, suddenly dizzy. Jean reaches out an arm. “Y/N, wait a minute. You don’t know what’s happened.”

You brush her arm off. “That’s the problem. I’m going in.”

Jean starts to stop you, but she freezes in her tracks when she sees the look on your face. “I have to find him, Jean.”

She looks like she wants to say something else, but at last she nods. “Stay safe.”

You don’t have time to confirm this, because you’re already off and running through the rubble of the parking lot.

As you draw closer to the building, you feel your footsteps slow in shock. This building had been tall, maybe eight stories, but now? Try four. Three, if you don’t count the ruin of the final level. It’s a mess of ash and dust, and all you can think about is that Peter is somewhere in there. You had been on floor four, and Peter had been one below you, so he’s somewhere in three.

You push through the doors, and they fall apart at your slightest touch. You cough at the dust that hangs through the air like a second atmosphere, and make your way to the stairwell. You stumble and slip, barely able to see a thing, but still you go. The stairs are blocked at the third floor, so you run down to the second floor again and try to find another way up. You have to resort to climbing up onto the ruin of what had once been a conference table to punch a whole through the cracked and broken ceiling to make your way up.

You pull yourself through to the third floor, shaking and covered in dust and ash. Your voice is hoarse, and your lungs can barely work through their layers of smog, but you call out nonetheless.

“Peter. Peter, can you hear me?” You can’t hear anything. “Peter!”

You wander through wreck after wreck of hallways and rooms, shouting all the while.

The more space you cover, the more you start to panic. This floor is barely a floor at all, more just utter devastation. There is rubble everywhere from the collapse of the other stories, and Peter could be buried under any of these piles of concrete and cement. You shout again, then double over, coughing. Dust hangs suspended in the air, so thick you can practically draw a finger through it.

It is now, when you just manage to get your breath back, that you hear something. It’s quiet, barely a shift in the rubble, but it’s enough. You move towards it, walking at first and then running when you hear it again. The sound comes from a pile of debris in the corner of a room. You start to pull away chunks of concrete, ignoring the cuts opening up on your hands. At last, you see something that makes a sob rise up in your throat.

There’s a hand lying there in the rubble, badly scored by ash and blood. You frantically clear rocks away from it, and after a moment, you see him. Peter lies in front of you, so still that you nearly scream. When he moves slightly, barely even a rise and fall of his chest, you want to cry. You crumple to the ground next to him, hands reaching for him even as you feel the need to pull away.

“Peter.”

The word is barely a whisper, more like a hope. The impossible happens, though, and Peter starts to stir. He speaks, and his voice is a cracked, broken version of his usual confidence, but it’s him.

“Hey, sunbeam.”

You let out this half-laugh, half-sob sound, and fling your arms around his shoulders. After a moment, he raises his arms to embrace you back.

“I thought you weren’t coming back. Don’t ever do that again.”

When you lean back, you can’t seem to keep your eyes from tracing his face, again and again.

Peter chuckles. “Not planning on it, trust me. I knew you’d find me, though.”

You frown. “Why’s that?”

Peter straightens up, propping himself up on his elbows. “Because I know you, sunbeam. I don’t need anything else.”

Everything else falls away when he says this. You stare at him, face painted with ash, and then you lean forward and kiss him. You can taste the sharp tang of dust on his lips, the crack of it against your mouth. There’s a certain fragility to it, like you’re afraid to move too fast and hurt him, but when Peter kisses you back, he’s more sure than you’ve ever seen him.

He laughs quietly against your lips. “If this is what I get when I nearly get injured, I think I’ll have to do this more often.”

You want to yell at him and laugh at the same time, so you settle for kissing him again. It produces the desired result, anyways, which is to both shut him up and satisfy the roar in your chest. You’ve got him back. Peter is here. Damn the rest.

xmen tag list: @enchantedcruelsummer, @awaywiththe, @amourtentiaa, @elaineygrace, @rogueanschel, @caswinchester2000, @gods-fools-heroes

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagines #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff oneshot #xmen #xmen imagines #xmen x reader #xmen oneshot #quicksilver #quicksilver imagines #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver oneshot #xmen peter maximoff #xmen peter maximoff imagines #xmen peter maximoff x reader #xmen peter maximoff oneshot

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 2 years

Text

Peter Maximoff Masterlist

Flower

Flower Part 2

Flower Part 3

Kandi Crush

#imagine #imagines #x reader #oneshot #smut #xmen #xmen x reader #xmen oneshot #xmen imagine #xmen smut #peter maximoff #peter maximoff oneshot #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff smut

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imyourbratzdoll · 3 days

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I crave a good fluffy fic with wolverine, his wife is a badass and when someone threatens him she loses her shit and kicks their ass🫡 with so much disrespect.

hey baby, I'm so sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy what I did, it's a bit more violent than you probably wanted.

summary - a dumb 'bad guy' lures you and your husband out, things take an escalated turn when he threatens your husband.

warning - SUPER violent, like extreme level probably, swearing, mentions of sex, dude talks of touching what's his but nothing triggering, dick and balls suffer rip.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You couldn’t believe this guy, he was really threatening your husband right in front of you. Thinking he was all tough because he could throw fire or some shit? You didn’t know what he could do, except talk a lot of shit. That was probably his power. What was his name again? Captain Talks Shit? Shits A lot? Little Fucker? Who cares, all you care about right now is that he’s threatening your man.

You walk out of the shadows, having heard enough because honestly. Why do the bad guys always talk for so long? Have none of them realised or picked up from past bad guys mistakes? It was tiring and a waste of your time because you and Logan could’ve been gone by now, screwing each other silly, probably somewhere extremely risky. But, noooo. You had to listen to this jackass.

“Listen, dick licker. If you don’t stop threatening my fucking husband. I’m going to rip your arm off and beat you with it.” You growl, moving to stand in front of Logan. (Sure, he would have protected himself and it may look weak to the other guy that a woman is standing in front of an extremely large man, in more ways than one, wink wink. But you happen to know that this turns your husband on and who are you to deny him his fantasies?)

“Is that a threat?” Captain Dipshit sneers.

“Did it sound like a fucking compliment, Princess?” You watch as he eyes you, sizing you up and in his mind he’s probably thinking ‘yeah, I can take this chick.’ You hope his ego deflates before you kill him.

“Listen, Babe. This is between us men, now why don’t you run along and go make us a sandwich or something. Maybe put on some cute lingerie and wait for me in the bedroom ‘cause once I’m done with your husband here. You’ll be creamin’ around me.”

Logan shakes his head, stepping way back. He remembered when he accidentally said something similar and he was in a coma for a whole month, not even his fast healing could help him.

It was like a switch turning on, the beast that lived within you had been released from its cage and not even God could save this man now. You stalked towards him, he still smirked thinking he was safe. You jump, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting, bringing him down using a move your good friend Natasha had taught you. You move swiftly while he is down, sending a harsh kick to his face, hearing the satisfying crack of his nose and possibly jaw breaking. You grab him by his hair and lift him, a large grin covering your face as you bring him eye level with you.

“You wanna repeat that, Princess?” You bring him closer, whispering in his ear. “How bout you go make me a sandwich, put on a cute set and I’ll bash your dick in with a baseball bat. How do ya like the sound of that? Cause I love it.”

He struggles within your grip, trying to swing at you but with your other hand that isn’t gripping his hair. You snap his arms, relishing in the sound of bones breaking. His screams echo the warehouse, dumbarse had lured us in here without a backup plan or backup.

You let go of your grip on his hair, immediately switching to gripping his throat instead. “You don’t like my plan, Princess? Rethinking the whole thing? Cause ya already pissed me off by threatening the man I love, but then you had the balls to say THAT? Tell me, Princess. Just between us girls. Did mummy not give you any hugs as a kid? Cause how did you think this was gonna go? You could’ve ‘killed’ the Wolverine, but he wouldn’t have stayed dead. No. But if he heard you touching me, touching what’s HIS. He would’ve torn you to shreds, but slowly. Very slowly. It’s what makes me love him.” You pat the man’s cheek, grinning as he winces.

“How bout an apology and I won’t kill you.”

“F–fuck you.” He spits at you, SPITS. Not even clear fucking spit, this shit has blood in it. You lift your hand, wiping the spit with the back of it and then onto his clothes.

Your face screwed up. “Well, that was stupid.” With quick movements, you throw him, watching him crash into a wall so hard that it leaves a dent. Your hand reaches out and a bat flies into it. “You’re not wearing that cute set and I don’t have a sandwich, but this will do.” He tries to shuffle away, his eyes wide. You stalk toward him and swing, smashing his dick and balls with one hit. Think Superman merged with Hulk strength, how do you think his twig and berries did?

A scream rips out of his mouth before his eyes roll back and he falls backwards. You frown and poke him with your bat. “Hey mista, you dead?” You look at Logan, “Bitch passed out.” He shakes his head at the pout on your lips.

He walks over and places a kiss on your head, “C’mon, let’s go home now or better yet. You ready to do something real risky, Sweets.” Your eyes light up.

“Do you mean…?!”

Logan nods, smirking. “I’ll finally let you fuck me while I drive.” Your squeals escape as you jump into his arms, smothering his face with kisses.

“OH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! You’re the best husband a woman could ask for!” And with that, Logan carries you out as you stare at him dreamily.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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hsllfirescoops · 3 months

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Something Stupid

credit gifs on pinterest*

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗍/𝗇𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖥𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝖲𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗀 “𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇’ 𝖲𝗍𝗎𝗉𝗂𝖽”

✰ notes: all work is mine and i do not give permission for it to be translated or published anywhere else, thank you! ✰

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶

It was late, and all the students were either in bed or studying. Wandering to the kitchen, you see Logan already nursing a beer. You couldn’t help but chuckle at him always sneaking alcohol into the school. Despite Charles always finding them and throwing them away.

Shuffling to Logan, you gently wrap your arms around him, laying your head on his shoulder. “How were your classes today?" Your voice muffled pressing light kisses.

“They were fine, same shit different day” he grumbled, taking another swig. He seemed tensed—well more tense than usual. You gently massage his shoulders, gliding your hands with your power. Relieving any sore muscles from training. You can see him relaxing, which always makes you feel better about your powers.

"Bub, you just know how to make me feel good” he smiled. Oh how you love to make him smile. To ease his pain, may it be to project something else during his nightmares or take out simple knots in his back. You would do anything to make him feel better.

“All for you Logan, I love you” you breathed out, hardly containing a smile. You couldn’t help it. Logan brings you so much joy and what better way to express it?

You walk to the other side of the island, what feels like an eternity. Glancing at Logan waiting for him to do anything. It didn’t even look like he was breathing, the beer bottle in hand long forgotten.

"Logan, please say something” hell pleading for some sort of relief from the pain brewing inside.

"Kid, I think we should stop seeing each other,” he mumbled. His fist clenched, “This shouldn’t have gone on as it has.”

Tears threatening to fall, you couldn’t help but scoff. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes, I'm serious! I told you in the beginning and you ignored it! I’ve lost too many people, you knew I didn’t want anything serious!” He shouted.

“I thought things changed, I thought we could move past this! You won’t lose me,” you choked back a sob. You could feel your power slipping, trying to breathe struggling to catch your breath.

“You don’t know anything,” he grumbled, “you’re just a naive kid. What we had was just benefits. But you kept pushing to be more and I can’t!” He knew what to say, to push you, to get rid of you.

“Fuck you Logan, hope you enjoy finally being alone. Because no one is going to be there for you like I was.”

You pushed past Logan, the air feeling tight.

Once out of sight, you teleport to who knows where. Sitting in an empty field you let go. The pain erupts out of you. You can’t grasp what’s happening around you, all you see is blue. The only thing, the constant thing that is plaguing your mind is Logan.

As Logan grabs another beer, he hears a faint whisper in his head. “Goodbye Logan.”

——————

So this was the absolute first thing I've ever written and posted. I don't know how to feel about it. I've just kinda had this idea and it's been nagging at me for weeks.

I have written since middle school, so I'm extremely behind on what feels like everything. I'm also terrible at being descriptive. But I hope it was at least enjoyable!

thank you for taking the time to read this! <3

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imagininglotsofthings · 1 year

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Dreams - Erik Lehnsherr Imagine

"You had a dream about Charles?" Erik's question made her stop in her tracks, and her face heated up.

"What?" she asked. "What are you- how did you-?"

He gestured to her journal, which she had left open on their kitchen table. It was closed now.

"You read my journal?!" she asked, outraged.

"No-I mean, yes. Part of it...it was lying open on the table and I didn't realize at first. All I saw was 'I had a dream about Charles last night. We were on my bed..." in your handwriting. I closed it after that, I swear. But...you had a dream about him?" Erik's pretty blue eyes looked hurt, and it broke her heart.

"Yes, but not in the way you're thinking, Erik."

"It said you were in your bed with him." She could hear the strain in his voice.

"Not this bed." Meaning the bed the two of them shared most nights. He waited for her to go on. "My bedroom at my father's house from when I was a teenager."

Erik looked like he didn't understand how that was much better.

"I wasn't even in the bed with him. And nothing was happening. He turned on the television and there was a movie on. The Others. It's a horror film I watched when I was thirteen, which scared the shit out of me. Which by the way is what I told Charles when he put it on in the dream. And then asked him to turn it off because there was no way I would be sleeping if he didn't. And that was it. I woke up. I don't even know if he turned it off."

Erik looked a little relieved. "If he's anything like our Charles in real life, he probably did."

She grinned. "Yeah, probably." Erik finally cracked a smile. "See? I told you, nothing happened."

He made a small noise in the back of his throat and walked over to her. In a few long strides he was in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Hmmm, I still don't think I'm very fond of it. He was in your bed, after all." Erik leaned down and rubbed his nose against hers in a sort of Eskimo kiss. The beginnings of heat crept up her neck.

"It's not my fault...it was a dream. I didn't...pick it."

"Still...I much prefer that I am the only other person in your bed." He kissed her nose and grinned at the full on blush that overtook her cheeks.

#erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr x you #charles xavier x reader x erik lehnsherr #xmen fanfic #xmen fanfiction #magneto #magneto x reader #erik lehnsherr imagine #erik lehnsherr oneshot #charles xavier x reader

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chiefdirector · 1 year

Text

Skinny Love (just last the year) | Logan Howlett | X-Men

Soulmate au: shared marks

Tw: self harm, illness, eventual death, and suicidal thoughts

The concept of soulmates had fascinated scientists across the Earth for many millennia. The fact that two souls can be bound across plains of space and decades of time led some to fall into religious answers and some into doubt about the whole ordeal. How can you be fated to someone who hasn’t been born? It is fate or is it an entity controlling everyone, everywhere

Those who followed religion found comfort in the unknown, because of their soulmate is God’s will, how can I be wrong?

The doubters, or realists as they would have you know, say that it by chance you’ll see someone with the same mark because fate, nor luck or fortune, could predict

Logan was a realist.

He knew that the world was not giving, kind, or pleasing; it wasn’t even cold, demanding, or abusive: the world was indifferent. It didn’t care if you lived or died, or in the manner you did as such. It didn’t care if you laugh, cried, or something in between. The Earth didn’t care if you had a soulmate, it didn’t care at all.

The little mark on his wrist had been there from before Logan could remember. He had been told that he was one of the lucky ones, as humanity progressed, soulmates became more sparse and therefore more enchanting. Once, Logan had marvelled at the fact that someone could be his in all ways but as he grew older (and slowed aging at the same time) he had come to think that they had already passed and gone.

On particularly lonely nights, he fruitlessly clawed at the little constellation on his wrist, the pain bringing a sick comfort in place of what he needed from his soulmate.

Some nights, as much as it goes against his entire being, he thinks that he would’ve been better off if he hadn’t met his soulmate. Then he would be able to go back to the fickle loneliness he once resented as he knew that it was paradise compared to what was coming for him.

The eventual meeting of his soulmate had shocked Logan to his core, he had given up and accepted that he would die alone. And then they came.

They came and changed everything Logan had ever known: up was down, left was right, yellow was blue. But he couldn’t accept it so he ran as far as he could.

God did he wish that he hadn’t run.

Maybe if he knew how much time they had together he would’ve stayed and made the most of the extra weeks. Maybe he would’ve noticed the tiredness and nausea sooner, maybe he could’ve gotten them to the doctor sooner, then maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t be terminal. He might’ve saved them.

After the nausea and fatigue eventually developed into vomiting and more hours being spent asleep than awake. The sickness caused their muscle mass to deteriorate like sand slipping through a timer. They were slowly being taken from him, and he was helpless to do nothing but watch.

Hank had said that he could try and find a cure for this mystery disease as doctors began to refuse treatment, saying that their symptoms lead to nothing. They abandoned them as he once did and he’d be damned if someone would leave them in their time of need.

Hank had said that he could find someone, and it would be done in the early days of the new year. He had said that they needed to hold on just a little bit longer.

So Logan found himself praying to a God he knew found no faith in, in hopes that if anyone, anywhere, could help his Love that they would. He swore to every god and goddess he could name that he would give anything, including himself, for her to survive this. He vowed to be a faithful servant for the rest of his days, he vowed to do anything on Earth. But he received no response.

He then took to their bedside, whispering his solemn prayers, their hand in his as he repeated his invocation and repented all of his wrongs. He did this as if they could save himself as if they were the only Divine being he believed in.

The days trailed on, and Logan watched as his soulmate grew weaker, wasting away in front of his eyes. Logan could remember the nights when watching them grew too painful and how he longed for the days when he resented the little constellation on his wrist but as he watched the gently rise and fall of their chest, he knew that he would suffered through ever gruellingly painful memory over and over again if it meant that he could see them smile like they used too.

“Come on,” he found himself whispering into their hand as he clutched them tight. “Come on. Don’t leave me.”

Christmas came and went, Logan barely noticed. He had stuck up a crappy little tree with lights that barely worked just in case they woke up long enough to notice. In better health, they would’ve chastised Logan for his lack of holiday spirit; he could hear their voice in the back of his head. Oh, how he longed to be scolded by them once again, if only to hear their voice without the deathly rattle that came out when they breathed.

“Come on.” He found himself pleading once again. “Come on. Just last the year and it’ll all be better. You’ll be better. You just need to hold on a little longer. Please.”

But not even Hank could reverse the irreversible. Logan watched as Hank came just a few hours late. He was still grasping their hand as he burst in. Watching the colour drain from Hank’s face was worse than watching her last breath as this made her death real. It cemented it in a reality in which Logan didn’t want to live.

If he could, he would’ve joined her in the stars. Logan had lived many lives and he never knew that something was the last time until it’s already gone and passed. And by that point he was already begging for the moment to come back.

Masterlist

#chiefdirector #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #james howlett x reader #xmen imagine #xmen headcanon #xmcu #I’ve had this idea bouncing around for a while.#gender neutral reader #gn reader #no use of y/n #marvel #fic #oneshot

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theblackhate · 2 months

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MATERIALIST

-Loki

-Steve Rogers

-Bucky Barnes

-Wolverine

#marvel #the avengers #avengers x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki oneshot #loki imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes #winter solider x reader #captain america x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #xmen

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

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Masterlist ☾

Hello friends, new and old alike! Welcome to my Masterlist!

The majority of my content is stories, whether that be one shots or books or anything in between. Below is a growing list of all of my works so far. Some characters may not yet have works, those are in progress. I am always open to requests of any characters, even if they are not mentioned below. Love you all and keep on dreaming 🤍

Marvel

Bucky Barnes

Prey - One Shot

In the Blink of an Eye (mafia au) - One Shot

More (mob au) - One Shot

Runaway Bride - One Shot

Rain Therapy - One Shot

The Thin Line - One Shot

Logan Howlett

The Breaking Point - One Shot

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

What Makes a Hero - One Shot

Star Wars

Din Djarin

The Past that Haunts - One Shot

Reluctant Protector - One Shot Part 1 Part 2

Misc.

Sierra Six

Bullet for You - One Shot

Taking Requests for:

All characters above

Marvel

Star Wars

Stranger Things

Divergent

Peaky Blinders

Actors

Books

Narnia

Anything else you can think up! How to set up a request for me is right here.

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make-me-imagine · 2 years

Text

If You'll Have Me

Prompt: “What is it about me that isn’t good enough?” Requested By: @spuffyfan394 (Mystery prompt Brown 10)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x GN!Reader

Plot: Y/n can no longer handle hiding their feelings around Logan, convinced that he still has feelings for Jean. So, they decide it might be best if they leave for a while. Logan, who overhears this, tries to convince Y/n to stay, not understanding that he is the reason they want to leave.

Warnings: Self-doubt and lack of confidence from reader.

Words: 1.8k

You tried to stop yourself from looking, but your curiosity and anxiety kept forcing your eyes back to them. The tightness in your chest was almost unbearable as you saw Jean giggle at Logan's comment. Logan had a familiar fond smile on his face as he looked at her.

No matter how many times the others tried to convince you that Logan was over Jean, and that Jean held no feelings for him, you couldn't help but doubt it.

Jean was everything you weren't, and you doubted that Logan ever saw anything as appealing in you, as he did in Jean. You never saw him look at you the way he looked at her.

Tearing your eyes away from them, you forced yourself to walk away, to go somewhere else. You needed to get him out of your mind. You were tired of the pain you were causing yourself every time you thought of him. You hated that you allowed your fondness for Logan to evolve from feelings of friendship, to a desire for more.

He made you laugh, and smile more than any other. He made you feel safe, and brought out your strengths when you doubted yourself. He was a great and loyal friend, but you wanted more. You wanted what you could not have, and it hurt more every day.

You were unaware of Ororo's eyes on you as you made your way up to your room. She frowned as she saw how clearly upset you were about something.

As you got to your room, you felt a wave of emotion wash over you. Letting out a long breath you sat on the edge of your bed and looked out the window. You wouldn't cry. You refused. This was your own fault, and you would hold it, let it teach you a lesson.

Hearing a light knock on your door, you felt uneasy. With your luck that wold be Logan or Jean. Neither of which you wanted to see right now. You stayed quiet, and still.

"Y/n? It's Ororo."

You let out a breath of relief as you heard her voice. Standing, you walked to the door, and slowly pulled it open, meeting her concerned gaze.

She smiled softly at you. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty upset."

Letting her enter the room, you closed the door behind her, wondering if you should tell her. Looking over at her, you saw her watching you patiently.

Shaking your head, you walked back towards the window. "It's stupid."

"If it made you upset, it's not stupid. Come on Y/n, I'm your friend, talk to me."

Sighing you sat back on your bed, waiting for her to sit beside you. You spoke cautiously, with a hint of shame. "I just saw Logan and Jean together, talking and laughing and I just...let it get to me. And I know that your just gonna say there is nothing between them, and that they are just friends. But the fact is, that there was something between them. At least from Logan's side. And I don't think that Logan could ever feel that way for me. Not like he did for her. And I hate that I have these feelings, and I can't make them go away."

Reaching over, she set her hands over yours. "There is nothing wrong with feeling Y/n. Even if it hurts. I wish I could tell you that you're wrong, but I can't. I don't know if Logan see's you like you want. I know that he adores you, that he appreciates your friendship and that he would never purposefully hurt you, but I also know that might not be enough."

You nodded your head softly. "Sometimes I wish he didn't think about me at all. That I was nothing to him. That would make it easier to accept. But he treats me so kindly, and I know he cares for me, but it's hard knowing I feel more than he does." Looking down at your feet, you let out a long breath.

----

Logan walked towards your room, hoping he would find you there. He had expected you to be in the library or sitting room, but found you in neither. And no one seemed to know where you were. He had begun feeling an odd sense of restlessness the longer he went without seeing you.

He slowed in step as he heard your voice from inside. Were you with someone? In your room, door closed? He felt jealousy clench at his chest, as he listened closer. He probably shouldn't, he was invading your privacy, but he couldn't help himself.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ororo asked.

Logan felt relief wash over him, it was just Storm. Deciding he should leave, he began to turn away when your voice met his ears and he stopped.

"Is there any chance you can send me somewhere else?"

Logan felt his heart palpitate, as anxiety filled his chest. You wanted to leave the school? Why? What was happening?

"You think leaving would help?"

He heard you sigh. "I don't know, maybe? I mean, I wish I could get out of my own head about it. But I just can't stop doubting myself. These stupid thoughts plague me every day, every time I see him. I can't stop thinking, what is it about me that isn’t good enough?"

Logan felt his chest tighten. Who were you talking about? Had you been with someone and he didn't know it? Did you break up with them? No, it sounded more like they hurt you. Why hadn't you told him? He felt a mix of anger and jealously wash over him.

"If that's what you really want, I can talk to the Professor. Maybe he can send you somewhere for a while."

"Thanks Ororo."

Logan turned to leave, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't just let you leave. Why couldn't the bastard that hurt you leave? Who was it? He knew most of the teachers, but never really recalled seeing you with one more often than the others.

He'd have to talk to you. Convince you to stay. He couldn't imagine this place without you, he would hate it. You made it so much better. You were the heart of this place to him, you made it feel more like home for him. He couldn't let you leave.

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

Staring out at the school grounds as the light of the full moon cascaded over the trees, you wondered if you really should leave. This place as your home, you loved it. But you hated that most of your days were spent with an ache in your heart.

Hearing a soft knock behind you, you turned to see Logan leaning in the doorway, watching you. You felt your chest tighten.

"Hey." He said softly.

"Hi." You responded with a soft smile before you looked back out at the campus grounds.

Logan walked over to you, and leaned on the balcony beside you. "I've been looking for you."

Your heart palpitated 'Why?' You glanced over at him "Oh yeah?"

"I wanted to see if you were alright."

You felt a pang in your chest. Finally looking over at him, you feigned confusion. "Why wouldn't I be alright?"

Logan smiled softly at you, "I was looking for you earlier today too, and I went to your room to see if you were there. And...I overheard your conversation with Storm."

You felt anxiety cascade through your chest as you tried to keep your face from showing your shock. Before you could speak, Logan continued.

"Look, I don't know what jack-ass hurt you, but there is no reason you should let him chase you away. This is your home and you can't leave. Not because of anyone."

A sense of realization washed over you as you figured out he had only heard the end of your conversation with Ororo. He had no idea the guy you had been talking about was him.

"Logan-"

"I know you are going to try and make excuses, but listen to me." He faced you "You are the best part of this place, if anyone should leave it's him."

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you let out a laugh as you ran your hands over your face. "Logan-" you shook your head "I was talking about you."

You saw a mixture of confusion and realization cross his face. You knew you couldn't stop now, so you started to explain to him what you had been holding back.

You took in a deep breath before you started. "My feelings for you changed months ago Logan. But I can't keep ignoring them, and pushing them aside. Especially when I have to see you and Jean every day. Living with the uncertainty of how you feel about her. And knowing that you can never feel the same way about me. Knowing that I can never be what you want. "

Logan felt an almost overwhelming mix of guilt, confusion and excitement as he listening to you speak. He never thought that you felt anything for him, not like he felt for you.

"This is my home, but I can't keep feeling like this. So maybe it's best if I leave for a while, just so I can get over this-"

You were cut off as Logan suddenly stepped forward and grabbed you, pulling you against his chest as he kissed you. Your mind went blank as you felt shock wash over you. By the time you fully grasped what happened, Logan pulled away, staring down at you.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "All this time I had no idea that you felt anything for me, or that you thought I still had feelings for Jean. But I don't, I promise I don't. All feelings I've had recently have been for you, and no one else."

You opened your mouth to speak, but struggling to find words. "I- for me?"

He nodded softly as he gently caressed your face. "I wanted to tell you, to show you. But I didn't know if I should. I was afraid it would ruin our friendship. But if I had known I was causing you pain, I would have told you, I'm sorry that I hurt you so much you thought you had to leave."

You shook your head. "It's not your fault Logan, I know you never would have hurt me on purpose." You paused, before speaking softly with a hint of uncertainty. "So, you don't have feelings for Jean?"

He shook his head softly. "I haven't since I got to know you. Me and Jean are just friends, nothing more. I don't want anyone but you. If you'll have me that is."

A smile spread slowly across your face and you nodded lightly, "I'll have you."

He grinned down at you as he brought his hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him. As your chest pressed against him, his lips met yours. You felt a great sense of excitement and relief flow through you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

xx End xx

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen Marvel Taglist: @aquariuslavenderhoney (@trashywritestrash, @groovy-lady, @marvelouslyme96, @supersourlemon13, @mochamoff, @simsiddy, @byersboys, @flourishandblotts-inc

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heliads · 2 years

Note

okay hi i love ur work anddd if it’s cool with you could i request a peter maximoff x reader (x-men) where the reader needs glasses but like usually wears contacts bc they’re kinda insecure about their glasses bc it makes them think they look bad or whatever and like peter is super sweet about it and yeah just fluffy stuff if that’s cool with u. have a nice day/night!

omg YES i adore writing for peter (also i'm a fellow glasses wearer myself so this was fun <3)

masterlist

This might be the most peaceful you’ve ever seen Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. For once, the hills surrounding you are quiet, and you swear you can even hear the songs of birds usually kept silent by explosions or rampaging mutants. Sure, this place is a place of study, but it’s host to dozens of genetically unique individuals, most of them prone to using their gifts at all hours of the night.

Tonight, though, all is calm. It’s an hour or so after dusk, the moon combining with the last residual glow of the newly sleeping sun to drench the place in light. You can see for miles, you can see forever. No gift required for that. It’s just perfect.

You cross the room to your window and throw up the sash. It rained recently, which is why no one’s outside. Technically, your friend Ororo could have lifted the storm, but she’s on strike due to one of the younger kids teasing her about a recent slipup involving lighting hitting where it shouldn’t. She’ll be right as rain, so to speak, by tomorrow, but you don’t mind her leave of absence today.

You can feel the cool air playing upon your cheeks, the slight humidity and faint breeze the only sign that the weather hasn’t been perfect. It’s not that late at night, but you’ve been tired recently, and you wouldn’t mind using tonight as an excuse to just lay back and relax.

You spare one last moment to stare contentedly out your window, then lean back into your chair once more. You have a knitted blanket nearby, if it grows cold enough for that, and your roommate, Jean Grey, won’t be back to your shared quarters until late at night. You believe her excuse had something to do with getting in some last minute mutation practice, although you swear you saw her heading towards Scott Summers’ room instead of the training hall.

That’s her business, though, not yours. You’re happy to stay here for as long as you can, alone in a blissful bubble of calm. Eyes still on the quiet grounds, you reach for the book you started last night, but your hand closes on empty air.

No. You whip your head around to stare at the corner of your desk where you’d just left the text, but it’s true. The book is gone. All traces of serenity bleed away from you, and you desperately wrack your brain, trying to brainstorm where you could have possibly left the thing. It’s not in your bag, no, you cleaned that this afternoon for what must be the first time in months.

At last, you realize where the book is. You brought it to one of your classes this morning, as one of what feels like dozens of instructors has been growing more and more boring as the year progresses. Unfortunately, she’d chosen this day to be aware of her class, and she’d confiscated the book the second you pulled it out. You must have forgotten to get it from her at the end of the day.

You set your jaw. You refuse to let this evening escape you, which means that it’s time for a heist. You’ll be taking that book back now, instructors be damned. There’s only one problem, which is that, seeing as you assumed you’d be in your dorm room until the next morning, you’ve already taken out your contacts. They’d been dry all day and you couldn’t wait to take them out, but now you can’t see without your glasses.

You’re not against the glasses, like most of your peers you do enjoy being able to see things, but the problems is that they’re just not great for appearances. You infinitely prefer contacts– they’re fantastic for peripheral vision, for one thing, and they don’t steam up or get covered in raindrops. You’ve seen too many movies and read too many books where only weirdos and nerds wear glasses, and it’s caused significant trauma. Contacts forever, or so you claim.

Now, you have no other choice. You glare at the accursed frames before grabbing them and slipping out the door. You keep your head down as you navigate out of the dorm building and start crossing the grounds of Xavier’s School. If you do this well, you can grab your book and get back before the peaceful atmosphere entirely deserts you.

However, this doesn’t appear to be the case. You’ve scarcely rounded the side of the math and science building when you get the feeling that you’re not alone. There’s a suspicious wind rustling only the trees by your left side, which is weird. It’s as if someone is out there rattling the branches, or perhaps running by so fast that he’s upset the natural balance of things.

Your concerns are confirmed when you hear a sound behind you, someone trying to make creepy ghost sounds under their breath. You roll your eyes.

“Peter Maximoff, that had better not be you.”

The supposedly ghostly murmurings break out into laughter, and seconds later the freak wind brushes by you again. You take advantage of the moment before Peter arrives to hurriedly tuck your glasses into the pocket of your jacket. Peter’s like a shark at the first scent of blood, no other kid is ever able to identify the best weakness for teasing as well as him. It would do you no good to have him see your glasses, you can already imagine what he’d think of that.

Just as your hands leave your pocket, Peter Maximoff appears in front of you. Dusk looks good on him, you think, it darkens his usually bright hair and makes him appear as if he were a creature of the night, a physical manifestation of all the moonlight you see around you.

Peter cocks his head to the side, grinning as if he can tell exactly what you’re thinking. It wouldn’t surprise you if he could, Peter always carries himself with the casual confidence of someone who both knows precisely what everyone has to say about him and doesn’t give a damn about any of it.

“Late night, L/N? I assumed you were always indoors by the time the sun set. There might be monsters around,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes. “The only monster around here is you, Maximoff. You and your creepy way of showing up in the middle of nowhere.”

Peter waves his fingers to emphasize his inherent creepiness. “This is my school too, remember? I’m allowed to go where I please, as well as see what I please. Speaking of which, why are you here? I thought skulking about in the dead of twilight was only something I did.”

You cross your arms against your chest. “Super secret business. I wouldn’t tell you under torture.”

Peter grins. “Ah, okay. Super secret business. Not anything like getting this book, for instance?”

As you watch, Peter pulls a small trade paperback out of the inside of his jacket. He waves it triumphantly before your stunned eyes.

“What?” you ask, “you knew I forgot to get it?”

More importantly, the question you’re not daring to ask is that Peter not only knew it was missing but already got it for you. Sure, he could have been heading back to his dorm room to hold it as blackmail, but he also could have been heading your way to give it to you. The thought of it makes you smile.

Peter scratches the back of his head self consciously. “I was rummaging around in our teacher’s desk for, uh, reasons, and I saw it.”

Despite his seeming confidence, you know the excuse for what it is. Peter searched all of your teachers’ desks a long time ago, to the point where everyone just keeps their valuables on their person because they’d vanish otherwise. There’s no reason he would be looking in a teacher’s desk except for the sole purpose of finding your book.

Peter must realize that your thoughts have reached this point, because he gestures hastily at you. “Say, are my eyes deceiving me or did you try and hide something in your jacket pocket before I showed up? Surely there are no secrets between us, Y/N. I would be deeply hurt if there were.”

Shoot, the glasses. You’d forgotten about them, but it appears that Peter hadn’t.

“What? That’s nothing.” For someone who’s had a lifetime of lying about your mutation, you’re terrible at coming up with an excuse now.

As per usual, Peter sees right through you. “Yeah, right. Come on, what is it? Don’t tell me star student Y/N L/N has been caught with illicit materials on school grounds. That’s illegal, you know.”

You laugh, incredulous. “I’m not dealing drugs, if that’s what you’re asking. They’re my glasses.”

You say the last bit in a quieter voice, ready for Peter to start making fun of you. He certainly seems like it, as his whole face brightens the second you mention the glasses.

“Really?” he asks through a grin, “No way! I didn’t know you had glasses.”

You grimace. “Yeah, I’ve been trying to keep it that way. They’re super dorky.”

Peter’s smile softens. “Well, now I’ve got to see them. Come on, bring ‘em out.”

You move to block the pocket, but Peter just uses his mutation and has your glasses in his hand about half a second later.

“Aw, they’re cute. Put them on, there are enough of us monsters around here that you shouldn’t have to go blind.”

You give him a look. “You’re making fun of me.”

Peter’s face is dead serious. “Am not. This is serious.” At your exasperated look, he relents. “I’m not joking, Y/N. I’m being honest, I’ve never seen you in glasses and I want to see what you look like in them. I wouldn’t make fun of you at a time like this.”

You arch a brow, although you can feel your last defenses silently crumbling. “Promise?”

Peter sighs, although his smile is picking up again at the corners. “Promise. Did you really think I would make fun of you, though?”

He almost looks hurt as he asks the last question, like he genuinely cares what you think of him.

You look away. “Well, I don’t know about you specifically. I thought people in general would make fun of me, how about that?”

Peter brightens. “Perfect.”

With that, he hands the glasses to you, and you carefully slide them on. You blink once and look at him, feeling oddly exposed despite the new surfaces between you.

All the glasses do, though, is make it easier for you to see the delighted smile that crosses Peter’s face, sudden as a thunderstorm on a summer afternoon. He’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before, or never taken the time to list out just how much he likes seeing you.

“There,” he says after a moment, “That wasn’t that bad, was it?”

You giggle. “Actually, I think it was terrible. Pure torture.”

Peter’s lips quirk up. “Not for me. I think I’m going to have to steal your contacts so I can see you with glasses more often.”

“Really,” you say around a smile, “it’s that different from my normal face?”

For some reason, Peter’s cheeks seem to be turning pink. “It’s good, that’s all. You look good.”

It’s fun seeing him like this. Peter is rarely as lost for words as he is right now.

For once, you decide to take pity on him. “Well, like you said, it is getting late. Want to head back with me?”

Peter’s brow arches, the picture of surprised intrigue. “Are you inviting me to spend the night in your room? Y/N, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You laugh, embarrassed, and swat him on the shoulder with your newly re-acquired paperback. “Stop that. I’m just glad you managed to get my book, that’s all.”

Peter smiles. “I’m sure. You lead the way, sweetheart.”

Looking over at Peter as the two of you walk, you find yourself grateful for the clarity of your glasses. It gives you the chance to treasure how he never seems to stop looking at you, and it also gives him an excuse to keep his eyes on you. Perhaps he’s right, you should wear your glasses more often. You certainly enjoy the results.

xmen tag list: @enchantedcruelsummer, @awaywiththe, @amourtentiaa, @elaineygrace, @rogueanschel, @caswinchester2000, @gods-fools-heroes

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 2 years

Text

Alex Summers Masterlist

none yet!

#imagine #imagines #x reader #oneshot #smut #xmen #xmen x reader #xmen imagine #xmen oneshot #xmen smut #alex summers #alex summers imagine #alex summers x reader #alex summers oneshot #alex summers smut

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dilf-whore · 2 years

Note

Could I have a Peter Maximoff reader fic, where there’s a Halloween party, and the reader has been trying to scope out what Peter will be wearing so she can “accidentally” turn up in a matching costume. Unfortunately Peter has also been trying to scope out what she’ll be coming as so he can “accidentally” turn up in a matching costume. Jean and Scott are wondering how far they can go with this.

the costume dilemma

pairing: peter maximoff x f!reader

A/N: now please bear with me because i feel this sucks but i really love your request it's adorable but i feel like i didn't do it justice but still but jahejs 😭

requested: yes

word count: 427

requests are OPEN

masterlist

✩࿐

“What do you think?” Jean asks, bringing the piece of clothing closer to you, it was her costume for the Halloween party next week and she’s planning to go as Candace from the cartoon show, Phineas and Ferb.

A soft smile forms on your lips, you could already picture how good she’ll look and what Scott’s reaction will be, “it’s really cute!” you reply. “What about you, Y/N? Do you have a costume yet?”

“Oh, about that, no, not yet actually”

Jean puts her costume back in her closet and places her hands on her hips, “the party’s next week! What are you waiting for? Christmas? Come on let’s go buy you one. Right. Now” she scolds, firmly holding your wrist as she pulls you out of her room. “W-wait, Peter doesn’t have a costume yet either. We should tag him along” you say, eyes looking for the speedster.

“He’s a grown man, he can go by himself whenever he wants”

“I-I know, but like-“

“Peter! I’m taking Y/N out to buy her costume. Come with us! And you too Scott” you get cut off by the redhead, spotting your boyfriend at the corner talking with Scott.

And just like that, Peter’s on your side in an instant, startling you. “Let’s go”

✩࿐

Jean and Scott looks at you and Peter simultaneously with annoyed looks on their faces. They've been watching you both steal glances at each other, checking if one has chosen a costume.

"How long are they gonna keep this up?" Scott sighs, tapping on his thigh impatiently. You wanted to surprise Peter by matching your costume with his but he hasn't gotten anything yet - little did you know that he wants to do the same. Jean just rolls her eyes in response.

"I can't handle this anymore" Jean stands up and goes to an aisle nearby, Scott following behind. She looks through the hanged costume and after a short while, she finally finds matching costumes for couples, it was Daphne Blake and Fred Jones from Scooby-Doo.

She snatches them and rushes to where you both are, "here! Now you can both match and sorry it's not a surprise but you two are such idiots and your thoughts are so fucking loud! I don't even have to go in your minds! They're screaming at me!" she rants out, tossing the clothes to you two, both mouths slightly opened in shock.

Peter looks over you, "sorry?" you both apologize to Jean in unison, bodies awkwardly stiff at the sudden revelation.

"Morons" Jean corrects you.

✩࿐

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jessiquinn · 8 months

Text

Time paradox (reader x Cable AKA Nathan Summers)

2022-07-16

Sorrow filled my heart as I watched you leave... please stay

Warnings : this contains depressive themes, self hate, abandonment issues, etc. if this triggers you please don't read.

(I didn't double edit it.. so there will be mistakes)

angst

writer notes at the end <3

-------

Decided on taking him in my home with nothing but love, he was in so much trauma, a lonely solider that only wanted to find his lost family... his reason to live.

he lived the moment day to day... taking every memory he can, he appreciated her doing, no one in the world would give him what she gave him.

which is a home

by time he forgot his goal, enjoying every moment he lived with you, his family became a memory...

as he had no hope he could find them... but then a spark of hope lit up as he saw the signals from his device.

his happiness quickly faded as he realized how there's two sides of the sword.

"I found them"

"w..what?"

"this morning I... I got a signal from one of the time lines..." he smiled as he said it, I felt shocked... like I got stabbed in my soul. I immediately smiled in response

I really want to be happy for him...I do...but my heart hurts so much.

in the end it didn't matter, us... we didn't matter. in his eyes... it's only his family.

It was too good to be true.

he didn't know how to break the news to her... he cared about her, he did but his family... his whole mission, his goal.

"I'm sorry" was all he said- , "That's why I have to leave..." at this moment everything broke.

I knew since day one that his stay is temporary but I never thought I'd forget about that... it was a fact, an undeniable one.

but somehow I ended up getting attached to the lonely solider.

I was only here to help him, to help the hero get up, make him strong and fight again for his life...but it seems like I lost mine.

Speechless, my face showed nothing but a smile.

"I..I'm happy for you," said with a smile but the hidden context can only be seen deep within.

he smiled back, a bit blue... but he knew it's everything he worked for...

"so.. it's ok with you .. " he said with hope... hope for something, anything to make him..stay.

"of course, your family is much more important, they need you. I completely understand... you deserve to go to them.. I won't be selfish" I smiled a genuine smile now, showing a bit of my sorrow.

he frowned a bit, not ashamed of showing his own hurt. "you... I would never.. forget you." he wants to stay.. to be with you.. to love you.

he can't believe his own thoughts...

"I want you to be happy, I want you to finally get your happy ending after all of this, you deserve it. don't worry about me. this is what I wanted, to see you happy with... your family" smiling through the hurt, longing for a hug for an embrace... for the info to be wrong, anything.

'please stay'... circling my mind nonstop.

he saw behind your façade... his own thoughts conflicted, like he was fighting his own self.

He doesn't want to admit that.. but the truth you became someone important to him.

"I.. I'm going tomorrow" sorrow filled his tone this time.

"oh.. amazing, if only there's a way you can send me picture or something haha" I tried to joke but it seemed my eyes had another idea... as my eyes started watering.

he saw that, his emotions killing him... he just walked away. trying to contain his own thoughts.

as he left, tears couldn't be kept anymore...

I can't be selfish.

my mind killing me, feeling negative emotions all over.

couldn't help but feel replaceable... temporary, did I.. mean anything to him? his absence filling my mind.

I'm broken.

Later that night Cable went to sleep but you sat through the night, alone, overthinking as I watch Tv, can I live without him..?

how did I live without him?

with him I felt strong.. I felt better.. but after all, life reminded me once again of how disposable I am..

he'll finally be happy I should be happy to.

he woke up early, ready to leave. I was still awake... Silence filled up the house.

made him his favouritbreakfast as goodbye.

I need to feel happy for him...

"I'm happy"

he looked up from his plate "hm?"

I'm not happy.

Seeing his face, my walls broke down.

Tears fell, looking at the plate.

I'm not happy at all.

"Cable, I..I'm sorry. I should be happy for you, but I can't. I'm sorry"

stunned by this, he never saw you like this before.

his own walls breaking, reaching to you.

"I miss you already, even if you're still here." I crying a river of sorrow, I ruined everything now.

"I'm sorry," said with so much hate and love.

"Why would you leave! I want to be with you, I want to live with you I love you damn it.

I hate you"

completely forgotten about the gift I prepared as I sob.

ruined everything, I did it. Now there's no way he'll stay.

I'm sorry

"doll, calm down..." he finally spoke, I look to him... my face says it all but his eyes says something unfamiliar, is it hate?

"I.. don't know what to say" he seems helpless, never expected that to happen.

his heart beating..a feeling he never thought he could feel again...

My head feels light, fighting for my life.

Fighting for us.

with a moment of clarity "I'm sorry Cable... I'm really sorry. t..take this. I made it for your birthday.. I know it's early but..." my tears continue falling.

he looks at the gift...Love... he never felt this much love before, except from his... family.

realizing what she said a moment ago, she.. loves me? everything becoming clear.

Love is truly war.

This is much more than love... it's longing, hope, desire.

Suddenly it hit him, it's you.

The same content, passion... love felt. it's you. I've been searching in the wrong place for all of those years.

when destiny had planned this from the start, from the day I arrived in this strange timeline...

"I'm sorr-" stopped by an embrace, a long one. he wasn't sure before but now he is sure.

The want to live, the want to kiss you right now.

undeniable, it is destiny.

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

(somehow.. he didn't know that his family was safe and with him.. him from another timeline. one he didn't meet you. maybe this is a happy ending... for both of you)

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

hi guys, I'm really proud of myself. I wrote this fic when I was in a really bad place. I felt so alone. while editing it I changed the destiny of it's ending... I'm really proud of myself.

if you knew me you'd know how hard it is for me to write something... loving.

I really hope it delivers the feelings I was feeling while writing it and the love I felt while editing it.

I'm trying my best to improve, I love you all. thank you for reading. <3

if you like it please reblog <3

#marvel #cable #deadpool 2 #deadpool #xreader #marvelxreader #underrated #oneshot #short #angst #happy ending #nathan summers #xforce #x reader #xmen

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