#alex and carlos are dear to me but nothing will make me hate a team more than a fucked up tp

[formulahs]

its actually great that james consonants is rocking his knockoff toto wolff bullshit cuz if my ick for him grows the right amount i can be free from the urge to kinda root for williams next year

[if-weshadows-haveoffended]

Needles and Pins- Charles Xavier x Reader

Needles and Pins (prompt) Words:1,197 Rating: T Warnings: None Ship: Charles Xavier x Female Reader Note: Sorry for the delay, I re-wrote this like twice :(

The darkened halls of the mansion felt hauntingly empty, every movement of curtains a taunting whisper at the failure of the X-men. It always had ever since they- Raven, Erik, Angel, Azazel, Darwin, Moira-

They’d all left you here. Well, not entirely alone. Hank still kept Charles some company, as did you. Alex had returned home after a few years to take care of his baby brother. And Moira was of course currently unaware of anyone’s existence.

And failure? You refused to let the X-men be a failure, no, it just wasn’t ready. Not when you were fighting a cold war rather than other mutants. One ideology had to come before the other. The Hellfire club failed just as you had, and you’d watched Charles sink further and further into himself, remaining silent and remaining as if he’d had the entire world on his shoulders.

And of course mutants were slowly disappearing. Whether or not Charles cared, he never let on. But surely Charles knew Azazel of all people wouldn’t just vanish oh so silently. It wasn’t his style.

Your Quant sandals stepped over chess-like tiles, joining the forlorn professor sitting alone on his now permanent wheelchair as he faced away, towards the dark gardens. You sat beside the wheels of his chair and crossed your legs beneath your mini-skirt, glancing up to see glistening tear tracks down the side of his handsome cheeks.

“Moping isn’t going to do anything, Prof,” You quipped with a smile, but the mutant in question merely scoffed and turned his head away from you, boyish face uncharacteristically grim as he wiped away tears. Whatever happened to the feckless playboy you’d all become unhealthily fond of?

“Why are you still here, y/n? You had a career,” He responded, tiredly.

“I am also a woman, which makes anything beyond a secretary impossible I’m afraid.” You laughed bitterly, inching closer to him. What unnerved you more was that you knew Charles knew you had to be lying. Surely he wasn’t that thick? Or perhaps he was just too caught up in his own thoughts to peruse through yours. “Anyway, I thought we established that annoying you to death was my job?”

“Not if I fired you,”

“Harsh Charlie, really harsh.” You muttered.

“You know I hate that,” He interrupted with a small glare, his mouth however now trying to fight a small quirk upwards at the corners.

“Yes, yes alright,”

‘What about Chuck?’ Your mind supplemented with a small giggle.

‘Don’t be so obscene.’ Charles’ stern voice entered your mind.

“Anyway, you should get to sleep. I’m simply being an idiot.” Charles’ warm fingers gently reached for yours as they rested upon his armrest. You certainly weren’t a mind reader, but years of experience in your admittedly short life told you that lingering touches usually meant a desire for you to stay.

“Charles, my dear, you’re not an idiot until you’ve had one too many cocktails and you cry for a solid forty minutes because you realise snakes are just heads with a tail.” You grinned in triumph, warmth spreading through your chest as you watched Charles try and fail to suppress a sudden exhale of quiet laughter, smothering his grin with a free hand.

“And that time I accidentally nearly became an accessory to crime because my inebriated self thought that I could rob a bank with only myself, a half-empty lipstick tube and one shoe on.” You reminisced with a slight shudder, “Then of course, that occasion in which I somehow found myself in the same bed as this bastard called Robert Redford and a box full of hedgehogs.”

“Hedgehogs?” Charles choked out in between silent laughter that seemed to force all the air out of him.

“They’re not even native here, I know.” You widened your eyes a little in horror of remembering. “I’ve done everything you could possibly do when drunk; from dancing with the attractive teachers’ aid of my archaeology class to climbing on top of the church roof to impress my crush.”

“You’re certainly an adventuress, y/n,” Charles admitted, wiping away a tear. But you smiled, knowing it was at least a happy one.

“Only when drunk, Carlos,” You grinned, unfolding your legs and beginning to stand up. Your job seemed done, Charles seemed much more calm and content.

“Anyway, the only potential drunken mistake I haven’t made was agreeing to whatever it was you said to me when I joined,” You mused with a grin before bending down a little and pressing a small kiss to the smiling corner of Charles’ lips. You couldn’t help but blush just a little at the deepening grin upon his face, and you instinctively brushed a strand of chestnut hair from his eyes.

“Besides, I should be going now,” You added, beginning to retreat at a slightly quickened pace, hoping it wasn’t too awkward.

“Y/n,” Charles called, turning his wheelchair to face you.

“Yes?”

“Do you remember what you said that night? When you agreed?”

“I thought we established I was drunk, Carlos-“

“Just because I excused ‘Carlos’ once, doesn’t mean I condone it,” He warned, “No, but do you remember what you said? Or did?”

You tilted your head in confusion, remembering the haze of a party and a Marvelettes record in the distance. Charles seemed confused at you and you simply shrugged, truthfully unable to remember what happened except for the sudden fluttering of your heart at the charming English accent and the handsome professor that accompanied it.

“I think you might have bought me a drink,” You answered slowly. “I’m sorry Charles, I don’t know.” With that he let you return back to the mansion.

“Was it terrible?” You hesitated in your steps and called back to Charles.

“No, no nothing like that. It was rather wonderful actually,”

You refused to know more and continued back through the darkened threshold.

Somewhere in New York, 1961

“And so, it would be wonderful if you joined,” Charles finished, laughing at the bright young woman as she finished her cocktail in a single go and held out her hand.

“I’m fucking game,” She grinned, eyes twinkling under the golden lights of the bar. Charles took her hand, delighted to have such a witty mutant on their team. It was a fresh change to that Logan bastard who turned them down a night ago. “One more thing, professor,”

“Yes?” Charles answered, excited and expectant, alcohol buzzing pleasantly in his head.

He hadn’t expected her to grab his coat lapel and press soft lips against his, unable to help himself as hands wrapped around her waist, moving to rest at her waist as she deepened her kiss.  The bar roared into cheerful shouts and wolf-whistles and he could feel her grinning. He couldn’t even probe her mind, too busy simply enjoying the sensation building up in his chest and the fingers playing with hair at the nape of his neck. Y/n pulled away after a beat and with a wink gathered up her purse, exiting the bar as quickly as she’d entered his life, but not before collecting what looked like a tuxedo-wearing ferret from a gentleman sitting at a booth.

Charles Xavier knew he was fucked.

Songs used: Needles and Pins, Please Mr Postman