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yandere-wishes · 4 months

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⭒ㅤׂ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere! X-Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓔𝔁𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 ♡ ｡゜

˚୨♡୧˚Magneto - Erik Lehnsherr | مگنیتو - اریک لنشر

Techno graces your body in lieu of veins. Wires coiling like arteries should. You use it to mimic him, embody him, be him. His starry-eyed parody. Erik needs you to be more, to be everything he -and everybody else- could never be. You are synthetic and sacred in every way, you are the future he so desperately craves.

He can't help seeing them when he looks at you. The reverend wraiths of tortured adoration speak to him through your eyes. He sees a bit of everyone inside you, Charles, Raven, Rogue... their faces flashing like holy ghosts. You have too many constellations inside of you, all on the verge of erupting. It keeps him up at night, especially when you're curled up on your side of the bed, asleep and oblivious.

"You will save us, little one, you will be the savior we have longed for"

He feels the centuries rolling through him, desperately lost, trying to find his way back to a home he never even knew. Maybe that's why he kneels, brushing his lips across your knuckles tracing each vein in hopes that'll lead him back to a place he's only ever seen in his dreams. I'll stay lost, I'll wait for you to find me. He knows you will, you'll do anything for him. He's sure of it.

Genosha asks for a queen, demands it really. It's funny how these things work. Funny how those who rule the world are so intent on destroying it. Kingdoms aren't built in a day yet they can so easily be toppled in one. In turn, Magento asks you. Who else? It's his one cardinal tenet, you are the savior he could never be. The one his people, your people, need. Erik rolls your name between his lips, relishing as the syllables melt on his tongue. There's a magnetic pull to 'queen' it tastes like a hallowed prayer. "My queen" he whispers in your ear, his tongue sending sparks up the cartilage shell. Magneto pins you to his lap, keeping you tethered to his strong body. His fingers run lines up your hips indulging in your presence. You don't squirm although he suspects you want to. his lips lower, kissing your jugular and savoring the ungainly moan that slips past your pretty lips. "M-Magneto" He's only now realizing you've never called him by his birthname, maybe cause in some way you find it treacherous that he should bear such a human thing. He may see you as salvation, yet you've always gazed at him with the pietistic eyes of a zealous worshipper.

"Use your power, feel the magnetic pull flowing through you."

"You're overcomplicating it again, master, I just need to command that which I need lifted."

You've always been a rebellious student. The sardonic irony isn't lost on him, Magneto finds it fitting that he should master such an intricate pupil.

He wonders if you can forgive him for the bodies he's scattered in your name. From this far up he doubts you notice the broken bodies littering the concrete. He'll do it all again, anything to keep your distractions at bay. His kind needs a leader, not another sanctimonious hero.

You will be their savior.

You will be his queen.

♠️🂱♠️Gambit - Remy Lebeau | گمبیت - رمی لیبو

Remy wonders if the king ever longs to be stacked with the queen. Holding his breath every time the cards are shuffled. Praying that this time, this time for sure, he'll be next to her. Gambit's holding his breath too. There's a lively lilt when you giggle, he wonders if you truly grasp how much he means every word. "Mon Cheri, you know you're the only one for me." It sounds so childish, so jejune and Gambit knows he's too old for school-boy crushes. But he can't help it, he's desperate too, just another aspirant king vying for the attention of his red queen.

You once told him the blacks of his eyes remind you of a starry night sky back home. He thinks about that too much. About the sting of your hand on his shoulder and how good it felt sitting crooked in his bones. So that's why an ace surpasses the king. There is only, one who holds power. Maybe it's never been about the queen or the king or the royal house. It's been the Ace all along. Remy only has one heart, he knows he only has one ace too. There was an ace of hearts on your nightstand this morning, you don't recall how it got there.

Remy's kisses are too explosive, they hold all the weight of a dying star. Yet the force never ceases, it feeds off the detonations only growing stronger, you think you'll be consumed in this kinetic nova he calls love.

-`X´- Cyclops - Scott Summers | سیکلوپ - سکات سامرز

There's a shutter of loneliness crawling up his spine. He knows you feel it too. Scott bends and breaks under its crushing weight. You've always been there, tangible, solid. You're the living metaphor for a rock in a raging river. He just can't find the right words yet. You can't see his eyes, you can't withstand his power. But you can be there holding his hand through it all.

'Is this selfishness'? Scott wonders and he kisses you under a dying moon. He's never had anything to call his own, nothing that stayed for long anyway. He's snuffed out his desires his whole life. His place is with the X-men, playing the no-choice hero of a thankless story. But you, you're still here, you never left. Even now you stand still as his lips taint yours. He feels your fear, undue thing that it is. But he can't let you go not when everything is always marred in endless red monochrome and melancholy. Not when the only blessing the universe had ever given him comes in the shape of you. He's so tired of only ever knowing the life of a perfect toy soldier. 'Stay' he begs you between each kiss, each touch. Please just stay. Ease his pain.

☽✭☾ Wolverine - Logan Howlett | ولورین - لوگان هاولت

He's been alive longer than he cares to count. Running from one hell to another. He remembers your ghost, essence weaving between places too blurred to be graced with a name. But he remembers you, he swears he does. It's just that time is so fickle and so few can withstand its crushing tides.

"How have you been, Logan?"

"I..ah... fine, just fine."

When he looks at you he can't believe the changes. There's no trace of the rosy cheecked little girl who used to chase demons in the snowbanks. Playing hide and seek with every stray in the neighborhood. That's good, he thinks, he likes this refined dignitary better, somehow it brings out your eyes. There's a feral gaze when he looks at you, he thought he was over that. He feels the pulsing of his heart reverberate through his claws. It brings back something less than memories, something nostalgic, yet all so distant it may as well have been the sent of his childhood home. It's not right he thinks, as his claws trace your curves trying to feel something he knows is lost. You quiver, trying to make yourself smaller and he knows, he knows he shouldn't do this. But there are just so many pieces missing and he's never tried to look for any of them. Maybe just this once he can delude himself into remembering.

˚ʚ★ɞ˚ Nightcrawler - Kurt Wagner | شب خزنده - کورت واگنر

Not too long ago this used to be fine. He's always been better within shadows, letting the soft dark weave around his body. Obscurity has always felt like a second home, a haven in everything but consistency. You speak in italics, talking and talking without understanding what he shoulders. If he didn't deem it blasphemy, Kurt would gladly dub himself Eros.

You would be Psyche. Oblivious, sweet Psyche.

Kurt longs to kiss your cheek, he knows it'll only starve him for more. He wonders how soft your hands will feel. If you'll You cradle his face nails tracing the sharp point of his ears, his fangs, the jagged scar he got from dreaming of you in the danger room. Will you grace him with a kiss? Something to relinquish the anguish stirring within. This should be fine, you're talking to him, laughing with him as he remains hidden within the dark. And yet how can he see this as anything less than retribution? You're so close, just a breath away. If only he could reach out and...

۵𓋹۵ Apocalypse - En Sabah Nur | آپآکلپژ- ان صباح نور

Your heartbeat sounds all too familiar. He used to hear it a thousandfold walking down the Bazaar's street. It's dead now, the noise, the rapture, the music. He wonders what went right for your heart to beat to such a lost tune? He remembers once hearing that pain travels through families until it lands on the right generation. He's glad fate picked you. He's glad you share the same ancient burdens.

He puts the stars in the sky.

You've been warned against worshipping false idols so blindly.

Yet how can one not fall at his feet?

He who makes the earth tremble and mighty cower.

He who seems to know everything you do not.

Your fingers thread through his hair. It's too black, like staring at a moonless sky in December. You wonder if the eternal ebony is what gives Apocolypse his cynical edge. He laughs at the comment as he melts into your familiar touch."Thank you" he mutters. His pride laces every word twisting them into something metaphysical. Nur wonders if you catch the true sentiment behind the words. If the sand and stars make it through.

You're too archaic for this time Nur thinks as he watches you run across the fields. The other mutants are there, persistent in the games you all play. In his time he'd have already declared you his wife. Do you know the ancient ceremonies? Would you have gifted him gold or flesh? The yearning builds in his throat. Maybe he should have stayed dead.

Apocolypse lingers the days away in your room, plotting, scheming. You keep him hidden like a blood secret. He's the only one who seems to understand where your power comes from, where you come from. " I could win against you...someday" Your fingers glow igniting a forgotten glow, Nur can't help but laugh as he traces the curve of your spine. " I don't doubt you could, beloved." His blue lips are on the length of your neck. Everything about you screams dead nostalgia. You've followed him through lifetimes. Smiling as you dragged him across the sand dunes just to watch the sunset. How he longs to carve you open and feel your heart between his teeth.

He's choking on sand.

Drowning in stardust.

Nur feels like he's swallowed the sun whole. Devoured Ra and spat out his holy bones. He still feels the sting of its rays seeping through his teeth. He's divinity and desperation are all in the same breath. Apocalypse and Nur are just two sides of the same daric. You stand in front of him, tracing the blues of his face, kissing the reds of his eyes. An excavation into the lost, unearthing that which could collapse the world. You enjoy him, savor him, keeping his gold essence on your tongue locked behind rose-tinted lips. You beg Nur to dig through your bones, open you up, unseal every crypt. He obliges, kissing the hollow of your bones until his teeth graze your unsteady heart.

"And what will you do once you meet the real world?"

"Oh, nothing, the real world will have to meet me first."

There is so much blood, he doesn't remember doing this. You stand beside him watching the sand in the hourglass run out. He is Apocolypse bringer of destruction, the end of worlds, funny how he needed you, frail sweet thing that you are, to remind him of this. It's only when he looks at you, really really looks at you that he realizes how many things are still the same. Twisted deformed yet still they harbor their old shapes. Apocolypse kisses you under the shade of a palm tree hoping it'll mean something in the end.

Hoping everything can just go back.

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