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tteotlma · 2 months ago

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Whiskey and Wishful Thinking

-- unrequited love and misplaced desires

Logan/Wolverine x Reader 6.2kw(😵‍💫)

a/n: this idea has been in my head for a while now and i didn’t really edit —

TW: 18+ MDNI AFAB!Reader, alcohol abuse/intoxication, sexual content (explicit), Emotional manipulation, unrequited love, mild violence (Logan crashing into things), infidelity (emotional), sexual encounter under the influence, emotional distress/angst, mild language, p in v

—

The quiet whirring of the air conditioner filled the cavernous space of the library, its cool breeze a stark contrast to the sweltering August heat outside. You circled the poster board laid out on the worn wooden table in front of you, your fingertips ghosting over the glossy photos and carefully cut-out newspaper clippings. Your chin rested on your hand as you examined the display closely, brow furrowed in concentration.

The new semester at Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was starting in a week, and you were determined to be prepared. This wasn't just about having a visually engaging classroom; it was about proving yourself. Your second year as a teacher here was right around the corner, and you still had people to impress—or maybe overshadow. The pressure to live up to the legacy of the school's illustrious faculty weighed heavily on your shoulders.

You were in the middle of rearranging a faded photo of Richard Nixon next to a more vibrant one of Mystique—a stark visual representation of the complex history you were trying to convey—when something caught your eye. A small tear in the corner of the Mystique photo made you frown. It was barely noticeable, but you knew it was there. Much like the small imperfections in your own mutation that you tried so hard to hide.

As you reached for the tape to add more photos, a thunderous crash erupted from the direction of the front door, reverberating off the mahogany bookshelves and causing the chandeliers to tinkle ominously. You startled, your elbow catching the edge of the poster board and sending a cascade of photos fluttering to the floor like autumn leaves.

"Dammit," you muttered under your breath, dropping to your knees to gather the scattered images. Each one represented hours of research and careful curation. There was Erik Lehnsherr in his prime, Charles Xavier before the wheelchair, headlines about the Mutant Registration Act—pieces of a puzzle you were trying to fit together for your students.

As you collected the last of the photos, another crash followed, accompanied by a string of muffled colorful curses that could only belong to one person: Logan.

You rose to your feet, brushing dust from your knees and straightening your top. A part of you wanted to ignore the disturbance and return to your work. After all, you weren't one of the X-Men, just a history teacher trying to make a difference in your own small way. But another part, the part that had brought you to this school in the first place, urged you to investigate.

With a last, longing look at your unfinished project, you began to walk down the corridor, your footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. The warm wood paneling and lush carpets couldn't quite muffle Logan's gruff voice, slurred and aggravated.

"Who the hell locked the damn door?" he growled loud enough to be heard through the mahogany, followed by another thud that sounded suspiciously like a body hitting solid wood.

You rounded the corner just in time to hear Logan slam against the door again. Sighing, you approached, your hand hovering over the ornate brass doorknob.

"Logan?" you called out, trying to keep your voice steady. "The door's always locked after midnight. You know that."

There was a moment of silence, then a muffled grunt. "Oh. Right." You heard him fumbling on the other side, likely searching for keys he didn't have. "Must've... must've forgot."

You leaned closer to the door, lowering your voice. "Did you lose your keys again?"

"Didn't lose 'em," Logan grumbled, his words slurring together. "Just... misplaced 'em. Temporarily."

Rolling your eyes, you turned the lock. "I'm letting you in. But please, try to keep it down. Some of us are trying to work."

As you swung the heavy door open, the full impact of Logan's state hit you like a wave. He was leaning heavily against the doorframe, more disheveled than you'd ever seen him.

His usually wild hair was a mess, matted in places as if he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. His leather jacket was askew, one sleeve pushed up to the elbow while the other hung loosely at his wrist. The strong scent of whiskey wafted from him, mixed with something earthier – had he been in the woods?

His eyes, usually sharp and alert, were unfocused as they landed on you. For a moment, they seemed to look through you rather than at you.

"Work?" he scoffed, stumbling slightly as he entered. "It's summer, kid. Live a little."

The irony of his statement, given his current condition, wasn't lost on you. But as he brushed past, the scent of alcohol growing stronger, you couldn't help but wonder what had driven him to drink so heavily tonight. Logan had his demons, sure, but this seemed excessive even for him.

"Logan," you said softly, reaching out to steady him as he swayed. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He paused, turning to look at you. For a brief moment, his tough exterior seemed to crack, revealing a glimpse of raw pain underneath. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I'm fine," Logan grunted, his voice rough as gravel. He shrugged off your hand with a forceful jerk that nearly threw him off balance. "Just need to sleep it off."

As he stumbled towards the stairs, you stood frozen in the foyer, a war of emotions raging within you. Frustration at the interruption of your work battled with genuine concern for your colleague. The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, each thud against the hardwood punctuated by a slight scuff - clear signs of his unsteady gait.

BAM

The sound reverberated through your chest, jolting you into action. "Oh my- Logan!" The twisting knot in your stomach unraveled, replaced by a surge of adrenaline as you found yourself on your knees beside the fallen giant. The polished wood floor was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Logan's body.

"Are you okay?!" Your voice came out higher than intended, tinged with worry. You gently turned his body, your hands careful but insistent. Logan's face came into view, his rugged features slack, eyes roving aimlessly. They passed over your face without a flicker of recognition, unfocused and glassy.

"Clearly not," you muttered, answering your own question. The words tasted bitter on your tongue, worry and frustration mingling in equal measure. You patted his stubbled cheek, the coarse hair rough against your fingers. The familiar texture grounded you, a tactile reminder of the man beneath this drunken exterior.

"Come on, you big lug." Your fingers curled around his jacket collar, the worn leather an old friend under your grip. You could smell the years of use on it – a mixture of tobacco, whiskey, and that indescribable scent that was purely Logan. You tugged, your muscles straining against his dead weight. It was like trying to move a mountain, and you felt a bead of sweat trickle down your back with the effort. "I can't get you up those stairs, but we can try to find something else."

Logan stirred under your hands, a low groan rumbling from deep in his chest. You could feel the vibration of it through your palms, like the purr of some great, dangerous cat. Keeping a steadying hand on his arm, you helped as he struggled to his feet. His muscles were taut under your touch, coiled with a strength that, even in his inebriated state, was intimidating.

The scent of whiskey hung heavy in the air around you both, an almost visible miasma. It mingled with the earthy smell of his leather jacket and something so distinctly Logan – a heady mix of cigar smoke and pine that usually brought a sense of comfort and safety. Now, it just emphasized the bitter truth that in trying to distance himself from his pain, Logan had simultaneously distanced himself from the man you once knew.

He was mumbling, disconnected words tumbling from his lips like scattered puzzle pieces. You caught fragments – "Jean" and "Summers" among them – each name landing like a small stone in the pit of your stomach. But you weren't really trying to piece it together, not now. Your mind was already racing ahead, calculating the logistics of moving him, wondering if you could manage to get him to the nearby study with its comfortable couch. And, if you were being honest with yourself, a small part of you was wondering how soon you could get him out of your sight and return to the normalcy of your work.

You watched, as if in slow motion, as Logan threw a heavy arm around you. The sudden shift in weight knocked you off balance, causing your body to shove even closer to Logan's as you struggled to support his swaying form.

You closed your eyes, trying to distract itself with thoughts of your discarded project in the library. You tried to reimagine your pre-arranged photos and timelines, hearing them calling to you like a siren song of productivity and purpose. But it was hard to focus on that, not with the heat radiating off of Logan's body making your skin feel like it was sizzling, every point of contact between you a livewire of sensation.

You could feel every hard plane of his body pressed against you, the heat of him searing through your clothes. The closeness was both thrilling and terrifying, and you quickly shook your head, pushing the confusing thoughts away. Right now, Logan needed a friend, whether he (or you) realized it or not.

"Alright, big guy," you said, your voice sounding strained even to your own ears as you adjusted your grip on his arm. Your fingers dug into the solid muscle there, seeking purchase. "Let's get you somewhere you can lay down before you fall again and cause some damage." You began to guide him, every step a careful negotiation between his unsteady feet and your determined support. It was like trying to direct a landslide – Logan's bulk and uncoordinated movements making each step a precarious balancing act.

"I-I'm fine," he slurred, his words thick and syrupy. His head bobbed with each trudging step, reminding you of those drinking bird toys. "Jus' needed a break." The words were punctuated by a hiccup that shook his whole frame, and by extension, yours.

"A break from what?" You grunted, the words coming out breathless as you strained to keep him walking in something resembling a straight line. The carpet runner in the hallway bunched under your feet with each step, creating small obstacles you had to navigate around. "It's the last week of summer."

The reminder seemed to hit Logan like a physical blow. He let out a loud groan, the sound rumbling through his chest and into yours where you were pressed against him. Suddenly, his body went limp, all semblance of cooperation vanishing in an instant. He stumbled again, but this time, anchored to you as he was, he dragged you with him.

"No, no Logan," you gasped, your muscles screaming as you struggled to keep both of you upright. Your feet scrambled for purchase on the polished wood floor, sliding dangerously. For a heart-stopping moment, you thought you were both going down, but somehow – through sheer determination or dumb luck – you managed to keep moving.

With a final, herculean effort, you maneuvered Logan's bulk towards the library. The giant sofa loomed before you like an oasis in a desert, promising relief from your burden. And of course, because the universe seemed to have a twisted sense of humor tonight, it was right next to your craft table. The carefully arranged materials – your planned escape from this chaos – now stood as silent witnesses to your struggle.

As you finally deposited Logan onto the couch, the leather creaking under his weight, you couldn't help but wonder how this night had spiraled so far from your quiet plans. The Logan-shaped imprint of heat on your body slowly began to fade, leaving you feeling oddly bereft despite your earlier desire to be free of him. You stood there, catching your breath, watching the rise and fall of Logan's chest as he settled into the couch, already half-asleep.

As you finally deposited Logan onto the couch, the aged leather creaked in protest under his substantial weight. You couldn't help but marvel at how drastically this night had veered from your meticulously laid plans. The Logan-shaped imprint of heat on your body slowly began to fade, leaving behind a peculiar sense of absence. It was a feeling that caught you off guard, considering your earlier desperation to be free of his burdensome presence.

For a moment, you stood there, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. Your eyes traced the rise and fall of Logan's broad chest as he settled into the couch, his features already softening with the onset of sleep. The furrows in his brow, usually so pronounced, began to smooth out, giving him an almost peaceful appearance that seemed at odds with the tumultuous events of the night.

Shaking your head, you turned back to your project, eager to lose yourself in the familiar comfort of organization and creativity. Each piece fell into place with a satisfying click, the world narrowing down to the careful arrangement of photos and timelines. Time seemed to slip away as you worked, the rhythmic sound of Logan's breathing fading into white noise.

Despite the rhythmic process you had created, your mind managed to stray to the man beside you. Logan's presence, even in his unconscious state, was impossible to ignore. Your eyes drifted from your work to his sleeping form, tracing the rugged lines of his face that you'd memorized long ago.

A familiar ache bloomed in your chest, a bittersweet mixture of longing and resignation. How many days and nights had you spent like this, stealing glances at Logan when he wasn't aware, allowing yourself to imagine a reality where his eyes would light up at the sight of you? But that was a fantasy, and you knew it.

Your fingers absently toyed with a photo of Jean Grey that had fallen from your timeline. Even in this candid shot, her beauty was undeniable. Logan's voice, slurred with alcohol, echoed in your mind: "Jean." Of course, it always came back to Jean.

You couldn't blame him, not really. Jean was everything - brilliant, powerful, compassionate. And you? You were just... you. The history teacher who helped patch him up after missions, who listened to his rare moments of vulnerability, who silently loved him from afar.

A soft murmur from the couch drew your attention. Logan's face had contorted, his lips moving soundlessly. Was he dreaming of her even now? The thought sent a pang through your heart.

"She's with Scott, Logan." You shook your head.

The words tasted bitter on your tongue. Because that was the cruel irony, wasn't it? Jean was utterly devoted to Scott Summers. Her love for him was as clear as day to everyone - everyone except Logan. He clung to hope like a drowning man to driftwood, blind to the fact that Jean's heart belonged to another. Just as he was blind to your feelings for him.

You turned back to your work, trying to lose yourself once more in the familiar task. But your eyes kept drifting to the leather jacket draped over a nearby chair - Logan's jacket. How many times had you imagined him placing it around your shoulders on a cold night? How many times had you dreamed of being the one he looked at with that intensity, that raw need?

But those were just dreams. Reality was this: Logan, passed out on the couch beside you, murmuring another woman's name in his sleep. A woman who would never return his feelings. And you, silently loving a man who would never see you as anything more than a friend.

The spell was abruptly broken by a loud, guttural grunt from the couch. Startled, you whirled around, your heart leaping into your throat. Logan's peaceful demeanor had vanished, replaced by a mask of distress. His forehead was creased, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling as if grasping for something just out of reach.

The realization hit you like a splash of cold water: he was having a nightmare.

Pushing your chair into the table with a soft scrape, you rose to your feet. Your movements were slow, deliberate, as you approached Logan. Years of living in a school full of mutants with varying degrees of control had taught you the value of caution, especially when dealing with someone as potentially dangerous as Logan in a vulnerable state.

You positioned yourself at the head of the couch, carefully staying out of range of his arms - and more importantly, his claws. Your eyes flicked nervously to his hands, half-expecting to see the glint of adamantium at any moment. Swallowing hard, you steeled yourself and reached out, your hand hovering uncertain over his forehead.

For a heartbeat, you hesitated. The man before you was a far cry from the intimidating, gruff Logan you knew. In sleep, trapped in the throes of a nightmare, he looked almost... vulnerable. It was a side of him you'd never seen, never even imagined existed.

Taking a deep breath, you gently placed your fingertips on his temple. The skin there was hot to the touch, almost feverish. You could feel the rapid pulse of his temporal artery beneath your fingers, a testament to the intensity of whatever visions were plaguing him.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice barely audible even in the quiet of the library. "It's okay. You're safe." He let out a soft moan. Your fingers comb through his unruly hair, something you had never dared to do before. His usual gruffness is stripped away, and what remains is raw, untethered vulnerability—both his and yours.

His breath is uneven as he shifts under your touch, but your movements remain steady, soothing him. The weight of unspoken feelings that have built up over the years presses down on you. The sight of Logan up close so troubled and lost pulls at your heartstrings in a way you can’t ignore anymore.

"Logan," you whisper again, this time more firmly, urging him back to reality. His eyes flutter open, hazy and disoriented. For a moment, they lock onto yours. There's no Jean, no Scott, no X-Men—just the two of you in this quiet, dimly lit room, the air thick with unspoken tension.

His hand moves up to catch yours as it rests on his hair, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the strength behind it. "Why... why are you here?" he mumbles, voice still hoarse and thick with sleep, but there’s something else beneath the surface.

"I'm here because you needed me," you reply softly, the words feeling far too loaded but still true. The tension in his grip tightens, and for a split second, you wonder if you're imagining the way his eyes darken, the hint of desperation and something else swirling within them.

"Don't you have someone else to take care of? I'm not worth the trouble..." His words are a mixture of bitterness and regret, and it cuts deep. You shake your head slowly, heart pounding in your chest.

"You are worth it, Logan," you whisper, barely able to believe the words have left your mouth. Maybe it’s the weight of the years you’ve spent suppressing your feelings, or the heavy air filled with alcohol and desperation, but something shifts between you two in that moment.

Without thinking, Logan sits up, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you closer to sit beside him, bodies pressed together. The sudden movement leaves you breathless, your body leaning against his, faces only inches apart. His breath is warm and carries the sharp, smoky scent of whiskey, but beneath it lingers something else—something raw, unspoken, and heavy between you. The proximity feels electric, the tension between you simmering just beneath the surface.

For a split second, neither of you moves. You can feel the thrum of Logan’s pulse where his chest presses against yours, and his eyes, dark and stormy, search your face for something—maybe reassurance, maybe an answer to a question neither of you has dared to ask aloud. The weight of unrequited love hangs between you, an invisible thread that pulls you closer even as you hesitate. You've both been running from this, denying it, but now it feels inevitable.

Logan's hand lingers on your arm, his rough fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. His jaw clenches, and you can see the battle raging inside him, the unspoken words on his lips threatening to spill out. "I—" he starts, his voice rough and hesitant, like he's about to confess something too heavy to bear, but you don’t let him finish. You can't, not when you're both teetering on this razor's edge.

You lean in and kiss him, your lips meeting his in a soft, tentative press. For a heartbeat, Logan freezes, his body going rigid with surprise, but then something in him snaps. His right hand snakes down your left side pulling you even closer, as his other hand cups the back of your neck, and he pulls you deeper into the kiss, his lips urgent, almost desperate. It's not gentle—it’s raw, filled with the intensity of everything he's never said. The kiss is a release of all the years spent pining for someone else, all the nights spent wishing for what he could never have.

You know this isn’t love, not the kind either of you have been hoping for. It’s about filling the hollow space left by the people who’ll never look at you the way you want them to. You’re both seeking something that’s just out of reach, using each other to drown out the ache of unrequited love that’s settled deep in your bones. Jean's name might as well be carved into the air between you, but tonight, that pain is dulled, replaced by the heat and urgency of the moment.

His grip on you tightens as the kiss deepens, a silent understanding passing between you. This isn’t about forever. It’s about right now—two people grasping for something real, even if it’s fleeting, even if it doesn’t fill the spaces you need it to. You know that come morning, things will be different, but for now, you both allow yourselves this escape.

Logan’s tongue licks tentatively at your lips, you give him the permission he’s silently seeking as your lips part. You feel lightheaded as his tongue slides into your mouth, and your groin feels hot as Logan lets out the filthiest groan into your mouth.

You let out a soft whine as you grab at his shirt, his muscles hot and firm under the fabric. As Logan continues to indulge in the taste of you, fingers trail down the front of his shirt all the way to and under the hem. Your fingers lightly drag across the thin sliver of skin and you feel Logan’s hip twitch, and he pulls away sighing lightly into your mouth.

He adorned the sexiest look on his smug face. Granted he still looked inebriated but this time instead of being drunk on whiskey.. he was drunk on you. Mother of all that is good and well, you know you should say something, be reasonable, smart, but dammit if there’s one thing you will stick by it’s that you will always help a friend in need…

You bring him close, hands clasping behind his neck and pulling him in as you swing your leg over his lap straddling him. His hands immediately meet the small of your back, and he leans in to kiss you again pulling you flush to his chest.

Now its your turn to take control in the kiss, Logan pliant as you lap at his mouth. He lets you think your in charge until he takes you by surprise and uses one hand to grab the hair at the back of your head. You lose your rhythm for a second and he takes the opportunity to push his tongue along yours, saliva pooling in your mouths and melting in the middle. He begins to suck on the slick pink muscle and you give in.

Whatever ounce of worry, hesitation, anxiety, any reservation whatsoever you could have had left your body and you gave in to desire. That bitch, that deliciously sinful demon had got her way as the muscles in your legs gave in and you relax onto Logans lap. He continues to slurp at your mouth, and you mewl. Never in your life had anyone done this to you before. Not only was it filthy, it was incredibly hot.

The heat in your groin burned your insides leaving you with an ache you needed to relieve. Your hips buck reflexively as you feel a wetness pool on the fabric of your underwear. You let a moan slip out of your mouth, and Logan let out a deep and throaty chuckle. His fingers go back beneath the waistline of your pants, fingers gripping the flesh of your hips and grinding you down against his pelvis.

You threw your head into the crook of Logan’s neck as he began to buck his hips into yours at a steady rhythm. His fingers digging harder into your skin, as he applied more pressure. You could feel the thin fabrics of your underwear and sleep shorts soak the more you rubbed against Logan. You began to gyrate your hips in tighter circles.

“Ah, fuck.” You breathed out as you pressed your forehead to the brute of a man beneath you. “Logan, Logan, come on, stop teasing.” You panted between breaths. Logan shifted a bit beneath you causing your neglected clit to get caught during your motions. Your head lolled to the side and then back as a whimper turned into a full cry of frustration. God, you wanted this pain, this ache you were feeling to go away and you’d do anything to make it stop.

Logan’s grip tightened on your hips, as he stilled your body for a second.

“What the fuck,” You hissed, trying to slide your wet heat on Logans definite show-er and grower but the man loved to tease. Logan continued to hold your hips and you began to grow frustrated. The feeling of his smirk against your neck causing tears to come to your eyes.

“Logan, please.” You whimpered, your voice shaking. You feel him freeze and you mentally shoot yourself in the foot— You didn’t want this to be a thing with emotions, it was bad enough that the first time you’re having sex with the man you’ve loved for five years is as a one night fling. You didn’t want to have to think about the emotional repercussions before having what you’re pretty sure is going to be the best orgasm of your life.

In a moment of panic, and wanting to shift the focus you lean forward, and your hands find the button of Logan’s pants. You unbuckle the belt, and he peppers kisses along your shoulders, your fingers fumble with the button, and he noses your jaw, you slide down the zipper and he pecks your neck. All of a sudden the intimacy becomes too much so you trail your hands at the band of his underwear and you begin to pull the fabric down. Coarse hair grazes your fingers, and before you can stop yourself your hand runs up his stomach, and down back to his groin— his breath shudders against the nape of your neck as he begins to nip at your skin.

Before you can fully expose the man he grabs your hand and puts it on his shoulder as if saying to let him do the work. You obey and lift your hips to give him space. Next thing you know your being guided back close to him, hovering over his groin.

While you hadn’t seen his dick fully yet, you knew the mutant was big. You could tell regardless of the scenario. The way he walks, the way he sits— legs spread so wide it’s like he’s constantly inviting you to kneel between them. Missing the opportunity this time didn’t make you think any different though, this man was massive. The heat within your body was already painful enough, but now the heat you feel outside your cunt was unbearable.

Your right hand slid between your bodies as you reached for Logan's thick dick. He let out a low growl as your fingers wrapped around his shaft. Logan's fingers reached for the fabric between your thighs, moving the soaked cloth to the side urging you to put his cock inside.

You guide the tip to your entrance and you can feel your cunt clench around nothing in anticipation. You feel heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, but the aggression in Logan’s breathing gives you relief that you’re not the only one desperate. But for who it was is a different story.

Logan got impatient and lifted his hips to push the tip past, and your mouth fell open as a silent moan possessed your body. God, you were right. He was so thick, the stretch was borderline unbearable but before you could fully adjust Logan began to thrust up even further. His dick going so deep, the tip hit the spongy part.

He let out a strangled grunt as he held your hips down, and you squirmed.

“You needa stop that.” He barked, as he rolled his head back against the couch rest, trying to control himself as he felt your hole clench around him.

“I’m sorry,” You sob, trying to adjust but the pain and pleasure were too overwhelming you could feel yourself losing focus.

“I just–” He shushes you by cradling you against his shoulder, arms enveloping you in a tight hug, and just when you think you’ve calmed down he devours you like you’re his last meal. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you from his lap before he brings you down and he thrusts up.

A sob escapes your lips as his hips fire off like a pistol, thrusting in and out, brutal but so worth it as your desires are finally being satiated. He’s holding onto you like if he let go you’d float away. A string of curses fill the air as he continues to pump into you.

“Fuck, fuck, Logan.” You mumble, words slowly leaving your mouth.

“Awe,” Logan tuts as his hips fall into a normal pace, his hand coming to caress the back of your hair. “Don’t tell me this pussy is lightweight, we’ve only just started and you’re already acting like this?” You don’t respond, and instead let out soft moans as he continues to fuck into your abused cunt. Logan uses the opportunity to pull you back by your hair (again) to examine your face. It’s flushed red, glowing with perspiration, your chest panting as you try to catch your breath.

“No baby that won’t do.” He caresses the hair out of your face and nuzzles his face against yours. His facial hair prickling your skin. He places a kiss on your forehead before he pounds into you faster, deeper than before. You can barely keep your eyes open and all the sounds that leave your lips are just pathetic little whimpers and sobs.

"M'close." He grunts and you can't help but agree. "You gonna come, sweetheart?" You can't find the words and nod, pliant like a ragdoll in his arms. He groans.

"C'mon. You can do better than that, can't ya? Tell me."

"Fuck yes," you pant, your voice barely audible between gasps. You writhe beneath him, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, but with his hands pinning your wrists, the only thing you manage to grab is the rough hair on his lower abdomen, the friction of it grounding you as much as the heat and slap of his body. "Please… don’t stop."

His grip tightens on your wrists, the pressure pushing you to the edge as he moves faster, his breath hot against your skin. Each thrust sends a jolt through your body, every nerve alight with anticipation and need.

"That's it," he growls, voice thick with control as he watches you fall apart beneath him. "Let go."

You can feel it building, the tension coiling in your core, and with one final snap of his hips, you shatter—your body arching, toes curling, a strangled cry escaping your lips. The world blurs, everything outside this moment fading as you hit your peak, wave after wave crashing over you.

But even through the haze, you feel him reaching his own release. His pace becomes erratic, his muscles tensing, and as he finally falls over the edge, his body tight against yours, he groans—a low, guttural sound—before the name slips out.

"Jean—"

The word cuts through the air like a knife, your euphoria draining in an instant, replaced by a sharp, hollow ache in your chest.

Your heart plummets, and the warmth of his body that moments ago felt so consuming now feels like ice against your skin. The name he whispered isn’t yours. It echoes in your head, louder than the pounding of your pulse, louder than the ragged breaths you're both still catching. You feel like you’ve been struck, yet somehow, you’re not surprised. You always knew this wasn’t really about you. But it doesn’t stop the ache spreading through your chest.

You close your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat as the reality of it all comes crashing down. This was always going to hurt.

For a few seconds, neither of you moves. The weight of the moment lingers, heavy and unbearable. His body relaxes, but the guilt etched into his expression is unmistakable, and you can feel the shift in the air. The intimacy that just moments ago had been raw and consuming has evaporated, leaving behind only an awkward silence and a sense of regret so thick it’s suffocating.

You disentangle yourself from him slowly, the warmth of his skin now foreign, a reminder of what you never really had. You sit up, your body still trembling, trying to piece together your scattered thoughts. The room feels stifling now, every breath you take thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Logan’s eyes open, still clouded with the haze of pleasure, but they widen when he realizes what he’s done—what he’s said. Panic flashes across his face, but it’s too late. You’ve heard it, and you can’t unhear it.

“Shit…” he mutters under his breath, his hand reaching out as if to apologize, but you’re already pulling away, slipping out of his grasp like sand between his fingers.

“It’s fine,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, though the crack in it betrays you. You force yourself to keep moving, pulling your clothes back into place, each motion slow and deliberate, as if trying to hold yourself together with every button and clasp.

He doesn’t say anything, and for once, you’re grateful. You don’t want to hear an apology, you don’t want to hear him stumble over words of regret. You don’t want to hear him say her name again.

You stand up, back turned to him, your chest heaving not from passion, but from the pain you can’t quite swallow down. Your hands are shaking as you adjust your clothes, but you refuse to let him see it. You knew this was a mistake. You knew this wasn’t love.

“This was never meant to fix anything,” you finally say, your voice steadier than you feel. “I was just… trying to help.” The words taste bitter, but they’re true. You’d gotten caught up, you’d let yourself believe—if only for a moment—that maybe it could be more. But it never was.

Logan sits up, running a hand through his hair, looking at you with something that could almost be remorse. But it doesn’t matter anymore. He made his choice long before tonight.

With one last glance over your shoulder, you meet his gaze. His eyes are still shadowed by the weight of his unrequited love, and you can see it all too clearly now. You were never the one he needed. You never stood a chance.

“I’ll be fine,” you lie, turning back to the door, your footsteps heavy as you leave the room, abandoning the project you had started earlier that night, each step pulling you farther away from the moment that should’ve never happened.

But even as you walk away, you can’t shake the feeling that for a second, despite knowing better, you let yourself believe it was real.

———

a/n: i thrive off of feedback and criticism.

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awkward-walking-potato · 3 months ago

Text

X-Men masterlist

Link to my marvel one - here

My requests are open!

Wolverine Masterlist

Deadpool Masterlist

Remy Lebeau

In sickness and in health - Request for Remy with his lady being sick?

Steady as a card in the wind - Gambit with a partner with anxiety

Jealous Remy - A guy starts flirting with reader at the bar and how he reacts

Clubbing with Gambit

Guess - Gambit returns to the woman he hurt, admitting his fear of commitment and asking for a chance to prove his love. Despite her lingering pain, she decides to give him one last chance, hopeful that this time might be different.

Under the Crescent Moon - Remy takes you to a drive in movie to see his favourite movie, Princess and the frog.

Trick or Treat - “I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as your [partner/bf/gf].”

Playful Bites - gender neutral reader who likes to affectionately bite him

Remy comforting the reader after a nightmare

Prom Night pressure - Planning prom gets too much and causes you to overwork yourself

Hank Mccoy

Reassurance - reader has a panic attack and Hank comforts them

Quiet Moments in the Lab - reader who gets overwhelmed cause she has a similar mutation to Charles, and finds comfort in the quiet of the lab

Kurt Wagner

The midnight Visitor - It is just Kurt being the biggest kitty cat

Tangled hearts,Torn leather - Kurt with a Punk reader and they are very much sunshine and grumpy trope

In the blink of a heart - What Kurt would think about his shy gender neutral crush giving him a love letter before leaving quickly

Saved by Nightcrawler - Kurt saves your life on a mission so you save his

Pouting and fluff - Kurt comes in soaking wet and you have to dry him off

Swashbuckling - What happens when you watch pirates of the Caribbean with Kurt.

Shades of Us - Kurt with reader who has a physical mutation like himself

Kurt surprising his gender-neutral s/o by wrapping his tail around their waist in private

Kurt reacting to his gender neutral crush telling him that they admire how kind he is despite how much he had suffered in the past

Fuzzy Comforts - reader comes home drunk and immediately latches onto nightcrawler and starts calling him a teddy because of the fur

Shadows of devotion - Kurt x goth Mutant reader (whose power is smoke like turning herself into smoke or smoke like Illusions)

Drawn to you - Kurt ends up seeing the art that the reader makes

Whispers of Moonlight - Kurt makes friends with death

Discovering You Were in an Illegal Mutant Cage Fighting Ring

Reflections - the reader feels ugly and has been treated unkindly because of it and kurt helps them out

Charles Xavier

A gentle touch - Charles looks after a sick reader

Are you still busy? - reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy

Erik Lehnsherr

Beautiful Darkness - The reader has always felt like an outcast even with the other mutants till she meets Erik

Moonlit reflections - “I spent so long in the darkness I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.” Erik helps out a reader with a werewolf mutation

Comfort in the Darkness - Erik helps with reader see how beautiful her powers are

Scott Summers

headcanons for how Scott would support an S/O struggling with depression and mental health

An Easy Fix - When your car breaks down near the mansion Scott is there to help

Headcanons

Logan and Wade on Receiving a Love Letter from Their Shy, Gender-Neutral Crush

Gambit's on Receiving a Love Letter from His Shy, Gender-Neutral Crush

Remy, Logan, and Wade would think about his female s/o walking in on him

Remy, wade, and logan reacting to their s/o wearing lip plumping lip gloss

Remy, Logan, and Wade would think walking in on his female s/o

Remy, Logan, Wade, and Kurt on their Gender-Neutral S/O Asking to Hold Their Hand/Arm Before a Scary Halloween Movie

Headcanons: Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) & Remy LeBeau (Gambit) with Siren!Reader

headcanons for how Storm, Magneto, and Nightcrawler would react to an S/O whose mutation isn’t combat-oriented and who feels insecure or weak compared to the others

headcanons for how Kurt and Scott would react to having an S/O with a "sunshine aura":

Scott Summers (Cyclops), Charles Xavier (Professor X), and Magneto might react to a reader with a powerful and versatile mutation who feels undercoordinated

Scott (Cyclops), Remy (Gambit), and Logan (Wolverine) would react to rescuing a reader who had been trapped in an illegal mutant fighting ring

Remy (Gambit), Wade (Deadpool), and Logan (Wolverine) would react to their shy, gender-neutral crush whispering a confession in their ear

Remy, Wade, and Logan might react and feel about a gender-neutral S/O who always makes sure to tell them "I love you" whenever possible

headcanons for a polyamorous relationship between Wade Wilson (Deadpool), Logan (Wolverine), and their gender-neutral s/o who acts as a mediator and the voice of reason

Kurt, Emma, and Scott with a reader that’s a little off-putting? They’re mostly harmless but them not making a sound still gives people a start.

Remy, poly Wade, and Logan would think about his shy gender neutral s/o asking him to kiss his forehead in hopes that he would feel loved

Remy, poly Wade, and Logan would think about his gender neutral s/o telling him that they haven't calmed down from the disagreement/arguement so they want to sleep separately

Remy (Gambit), Logan (Wolverine), and Kurt (Nightcrawler) might react to an S/O who often depreciates themselves

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cera-writes · 5 months ago

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Hear me out.

Nsfw with young erik lehnsherr and semi-public 🤭🫣

That’s it. That’s the idea.

A/N: Thanks for requesting this anon! Young Erik does something for me~ Pairing: Young Erik (Magneto) x AFAB!Reader Tags: semi public sex, unprotected sex, nsfw Prompt: Erik meets reader in the park at midnight, desperate to be close to you despite the dangers of entangling his own life with yours.

Dancing in the Moonlight - An Erik Lehnsherr x AFAB!reader one-shot

Moonlight filtered through the weeping willow's branches, casting an ethereal glow on the deserted park. The air hung heavy with the scent of blooming night jasmine, swirling around you and Erik like a heady perfume. Weeks of frantic escape had etched lines of exhaustion on his face, yet his eyes, the color of a storm-tossed sea, held a spark that ignited a wildfire in your core.

He cupped your face in his calloused hands, his touch a stark contrast to the cool night air. The pads of his thumbs traced the gentle curve of your jaw, sending shivers cascading down your spine. "You shouldn't be here," he rasped, his voice a low rumble that sent delicious tremors through you.

"But I am," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft chirping of crickets. You leaned into his touch, the need for his warmth an undeniable ache.

His gaze swept over your face, lingering on your lips, nervous with anticipation as you trembled. A slow smile played on his lips, a flicker of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. He leaned in, the space between you shrinking to a mere whisper.

The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating. His breath, laced with the faint scent of smoke and desperation, danced on your lips. Then, hesitantly at first, his lips met yours. The kiss was a collision, raw and hungry, fueled by weeks of pent-up emotions and the constant threat of danger. His touch was a brand, searing a claim on your very being. His tongue, a bold explorer, delved deeper, igniting a firestorm within you.

A gasp escaped your lips, a sound that seemed to echo through the stillness of the night. You tangled your fingers in his hair, the feel of his soft white strands sending another jolt of pleasure through you. The need for more was a physical ache, a desperate yearning that clawed at your insides.

He pulled away reluctantly, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His eyes, a stormy grey, held a mixture of possessiveness and raw vulnerability. "I shouldn't," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "but this city feels colder without you in it."

His taut muscles flexed under your touch, body wanting, no-needing you.

"Then don't let go," you whispered, your voice a husky plea. You arched your body closer, the space between you a charged void begging to be filled.

A hungry growl rumbled in his chest, a primal acknowledgment of your desire. His hands slipped down your arms, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He reached for your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your bodies collided, a tangle of limbs and desperate need.

Erik's calloused fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, inching upward and grazing the sensitive skin of your stomach. Your breath caught in your throat, every nerve ending alive with anticipation.

His thumbs brushed over the curves of your breasts, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He leaned in closer, his lips tracing a path along your jawline and down the column of your neck. A shudder coursed through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch.

With a swift tug, Erik removed your shirt, casting it aside like a forgotten memory. The cool night air caressed your bare skin, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. Your bra was next, the lacy fabric slipping away under his magical, magnetic fingers.

Your breasts spilled free, the weight of them heavy in the moonlight. Erik's eyes devoured you, his gaze lingering on the swell of your flesh before landing on your flushed face. "You're beautiful," he rasped, his voice raw with desire.

Unable to resist the pull of his magnetic gaze, you leaned into him, your heart aching for more. Erik's hands cupped your breasts, his fingers finding your taut nipples and teasing them into hardened peaks. You arched your back, a silent plea for more.

"Please, Erik...I-I need you. All of you!" you moaned, trying to contain the high pitch of your voice but you couldn't help it. He made you yearn so, so badly for him.

He responded by lowering his head, his lips closing around one nipple. The sensation was exquisite, the gentle suckling sending a jolt of pleasure straight to the core of your being. Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him onward as he lavished attention on your breasts.

But it wasn't enough. The fire between your legs was an inferno, burning hotter with each passing second. The need for release was a white-hot pulse throbbing in time with your heartbeat. It was a hunger that only he could satisfy.

As Erik's lips continued their exploration of your breasts, you felt an uncontrollable need to reciprocate his touch. Impatiently, you reached for the buttons on his shirt, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against yours.

"So eager, Schatz..." Magneto growled.

With trembling fingers, you undid each button, slowly revealing the expanse of chiseled chest beneath. His skin was warm and damp with perspiration, the muscles rippling under your eager touch. You traced a line from his collarbone down to his navel, eliciting a deep moan from the back of his throat.

Erik pulled away from your breasts, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you explore his body. He tugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the ground beside yours. The sight of him half-naked in the moonlight was enough to send your heart into overdrive. You were luckily the only ones in the park this late at this hour.

Your hands skimmed over his broad shoulders, down his arms, and across his chest. The soft hair that covered his body was an unexpected delight, teasing your fingertips as you traced your way along his sculpted muscles.

You leaned in to taste the salt on his skin, running your tongue over his collarbone and along the curve of his neck. He tilted his head back and hummed in pleasure. The flavor of him was addictive, fueling the fire within you as it spread through your body like wildfire. Your lips found his again, tasting the slightly chapped skin as you clung desperately to him.

His free hand traveled down your stomach, brushing past your clothing before reaching its destination: the damp heat between your legs. He teased you, rubbing his fingers just above your most sensitive spot, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and frustration.

You couldn't hold back any longer. Gripping his hair, you guided his mouth to your other breast as you thrust your hips forward, desperate for relief. Erik chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying your impatience. But instead of giving you what you wanted, he retreated, leaving you aching and needy.

"Please," you begged, your voice cracking with desire. "I need you."

Erik's eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was also a tenderness there that made your heart race. Slowly, agonizingly, he peeled off your jeans and underwear, leaving you completely exposed. The cool night air caused goosebumps to appear on your skin, but the heat in Erik's gaze was enough to make you burn from the inside out.

He stood before you, his own clothes barely clinging to his body before he stepped out of the rest of his attire. Your eyes roamed over him, taking in every inch of his lean, muscled frame. Without saying a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual duel. You could practically feel the electricity between you both.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against you. Erik groaned into your mouth, his hands roaming over your body, leaving explosions of pleasure in their wake.

With a primal growl, he lifted you off the ground, your legs still wrapped around him. You gasped as he carried you to a nearby tree, its strong branches providing the perfect support for what was to come.

Erik pressed you against the rough bark, his mouth nipping at your neck as he positioned himself between your legs. You could feel his hardness pressed against your core, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

"Are you ready for me?" he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with desire, tone husky and dark.

You nodded, unable to form words. Erik's hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he thrust into you with a primal intensity that took your breath away. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, every stroke driving you closer to the edge.

"Oh, yes-Mmn, fuck Erik!" you hissed in pleasure, slamming your eyes shut as you took in every inch of him.

As the pleasure built, you felt yourself letting go, surrendering to the sensations coursing through your veins. Erik's pace quickened, his movements becoming more urgent, his breath hot against your neck.

You cried out as the first wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your entire body shuddering with release. Erik followed close behind, his own climax rippling through him as he pressed his forehead against yours, your breath mingling in the cool night air.

For a long moment, you remained entwined, hearts racing and bodies trembling. Then, slowly, Erik pulled away, a look of contentment etched on his face. He brushed a stray lock of hair from your eyes, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek.

"I've missed you," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the soft rustling of leaves. "And I never wanted to let you go."

#xmen #x men 97 #cera writes #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr x you #magneto x reader

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olspirt · 3 months ago

Text

phantom of the opera x mlp final part

erik - midnight whisper

#erik poto #erik the phantom #erik destler #poto #phandom #phan au #phantom of the opera #phanart #poto fanart #mlp fanart #mlp fim #my little pony #mlp siren #fanart

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migosis · 1 year ago

Text

after a long, hard day at work (erik killmonger x OC)

summary: exactly the title. Nyla treats her man after a long hard day at work.

warnings: D/s, smut, c*ck worship, alladat nasty sh!t, its k!nktober!!!!

When he arrived home, she was to be kneeling at the door upon his arrival.

She figured today must've been very busy for Erik since she didn't hear from him at all since the morning. He hadn't even replied to the lovely photos she'd sent fresh out of the bath. She'd oiled herself up and admired herself in the mirror. She looked so good it that it would be selfish not to share it.

After dressing, she kneeled at the elevator entrance awaiting Erik's arrival, a ritual she performed daily. She was in lounge clothes since she stayed at home today and did some light cleaning. She wore a soft v neck t-shirt that hugged her torso with loose-fitting pajama shorts that tied at her waist. Her back was straight, and she allowed her hands to rest palm up on her knees.

She was thankful to hear Erik's voice on the other side of the door within minutes. She tensed a little, already sensing his frustration from the tone of his voice. He breezed in, acknowledging her with his eyes only. He sat his briefcase down haphazardly and paced the room as he spoke firmly.

"T, I get it, but we're not folding. The terms of the contract stay the same. They will sign it if they know what's best for them."

"We wait it out until midnight. They really don't have a choice unless they want to be indebted to colonial forces forever. Trust me on this. They think they're going to force our hand, and that's not the precedent I'm trying to set."

Now Erik paused in front of her as he listened to the voice on the phone. She proceeded to carefully untie the laces on the oxford dress shoes before he stepped out of them. He sighed harshly and hung up the phone. He ran his hand over his face, and his shoulders dropped a little, decompressing from the day.

He used the back of his hand to stoke her cheek. His knuckle tilted her chin upwards as he leaned over to kiss her intently. Relief flooded through her body when he touched her.

"I'm sorry about that princess." He held her elbow as he straightened his back, pulling her to her feet.

"That's okay. I hope everything works out. Are you really sure they'll sign?"

She helped remove his suit jacket and hung it up in the closet. He nodded.

"You're trusting your gut. That's all that matters." He smiled at her, happy that he had her to come home to.

"How was your day?"

"It was fine, a bit restless. I mostly just organized and cleaned a little. I got some of the holiday decorations out, but there's a couple of boxes I can't get to, so I'll need your help."

"Baby, it's only October."

"Yes, but I need to take inventory of what I have so I know what else I need to buy. They're already putting the Chistmas decorations on the shelves."

"Alright, Alright. Have you talked to Pandora lately?"

"We talked a little last week."

"You should link up with her soon."

"Okay. She's pretty busy with the baby, but I'm sure she probably could use some support." She hadn't seen her best friend since her baby was born 8 weeks ago since they we're hours away from one another.

"How about when I get down those decorations, I pull out your art supplies?"

She didn't want to be disrespectful by rolling her eyes, so she just looked away with her arms crossing her chest. Anything that required much of a creative drive hadn't been on her radar lately.

"I just don't want you in this big ass penthouse lonely and bored."

"I'm not lonely or bored." She defended.

"But you're isolated, and I don't like that for you."

"I get out... I go to.. the store. And on walks." She tried to sound convincing but failed miserably. "I've been filming more book reviews for YouTube."

"You have and that's great. But that same community you're building online is just as important in real life."

She raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, I get it. I'll reach out to Dora."

"Did you see my pictures?" She said with an upbeat lilt in her voice.

"I did. They were real nice baby, made my day." He pulled her close to him, arms resting on around the small of your back. Her eyes sparkled at his praise.

"I can make it some more, that is, if you have time for me, Sir? It seems like you had a rough day."

"I have a few loose ends to tie up, then I'm all yours. Wait for me in the office?"

She kneeled at Erik's desk, but when he walked in, he relieved her, insisting she sit in the armchair near the corner of the room. That meant he'd probably be longer than she wished for. She cozied up with a blanket and a book while Erik typed and took a phone call. After reading two chapters, she glanced at him over the book. He was concentrated on whatever he was doing as he looked between two monitors. She strolled over, settling behind him. Briefly, she looked at the monitors, but the spreadsheets that overflowed with data made her head hurt. Knots of tension in his shoulders began to unravel while her hands worked. Once her fingertips kneaded his temples, he sighed in relief and relaxed in his chair.

"Thank you, princess. I'm almost finished. Please be patient."

Since he said please, she didn't allow her disappointment to show.

"Kneel next to me. Legs open, head down." He kissed her on the forehead before turning back to his screens. The command ushered in wetness between her legs. Her heart beat quickened with so much anticipation that she had to focus on her breath to stay calm. About ten minutes later, she saw Erik's footsteps move around her. The room was still before he returned again. She heard the book she was reading earlier plop closed, then clinking over near the bar cart.

"Look at me." He sat relaxed in the armchair she occupied earlier. He leaned back slightly, chin up, shoulders back, and arms propped up on both sides of the chair. His button-up was untucked, the first few buttons undone, and the tie he'd worn earlier was no longer confining his neck. He beckoned her to come to him with one hand motion.

She crawled over to where he sat, maintaining eye contact with him. He admired her as she kneeled before him. She smelled the bold amber liquor in the tumbler Erik sipped on.

"Would you like a taste?"

"Yes, sir." He held the glass to her lips for her. When he pulled the glass away a few dribbles flowed down her lips. Erik caught them with his tongue before they could even reach her chin. His lips enveloped hers, demanding entrance. She allowed his tongue to survey her mouth, their tongues wrestling like this until they were out of breath. Erik's hands groped her breast, which made her nipples press firmly against the fabric of her shirt. When his lips left hers, she let out a small breathy moan.

"Take this off." When her top half was exposed, she grasped her breasts roughly as she bit her lips, demonstrating how needy she was.

"That's my job, hands at your knees."

She whined but the sounds soon turned into pleasurable hums as his lips sucked her nipples. He nipped at her flesh with his teeth, it causing her stir underneath him. From the table beside him, he picked up a ball gag and brought it to her pink lips, already plump from their kissing. When she did not open her mouth him he looked at her curiously.

"What is it?"

"I don't wanna wear that. I just want to taste you." She placed her hand on his knee, brushing against the fabric as she moved up his thigh.

"But you were so good just now, waiting on me. Can I say thank you first?"

"You've just been on my mind all day." Her doe eyes made it hard for him to refuse, but the truth is that he'd been craving to see the face she made when she came.

"It'll be quick then. That means you're already wet for me. Plus, I want that mouth nice and messy. Now, move your hand until I give you permission."

She retracted her hand placing it back on her knee. This time when he brought the gag to her mouth she opened it. When Erik peered at her he saw gratitude in her eyes.

She looked beautiful. He reached inside her shorts, easily accessing her, as she was free of underwear. His fingers pressed into her folds. She mewled and melted into him. Her essence glistened on his fingers when he pulled them out to examine them.

"Look at that princess, I was right. You want me to keep going?"

"Uhm huh." She slurred behind the gag.

"Say please."

"Puhles." She struggled.

There he was at her entrance again, slipping in two fingers this time. Her eyes fluttered, then closed completely as she focused on the sensation. She pushed downwards, encouraging him to go deeper. His fingers curled inside of her, pushing against her pillowy folds. Her moans rang in his ears despite the ball gag. A pool of saliva that collected began to ooze from her mouth onto her chin and dripped on her chest. The messier her chest got, the more her pussy seemed to follow. Erik had easily slipped another finger inside of her and she'd been so close to cuming that Erik needed to support her weight. He could feel her clenching around him periodically.

"Be a good girl and cum for me." The hand that wasn't inside of her rubbed against her clit. Her warm juices splashed as kept his pace, even as her insides contracted against him. Indistinguishable sounds broke free from her throat as her body seized. He watched in satisfaction as the meat on her pudgy thighs and backside shook. Her empty, unfocused gaze stared beyond him, drunk with pleasure.

Erik removed the gag from her lips replaced it with his fingers. She sucked them slowly and hummed in delight.

"I love seeing you on your knees. It makes me want to fuck you."

It was times like this when the words he said sent shivers down her spine that made her wait worth it. She loved that he wanted her, she loved being a slut for him. Erik stood from his seated position, allowing her to see that he was fully bricked up inside his pants. Her mouth watered in excitement. She looked up to him eagerly, anticipating his movements.

"Fuck my throat," She pleaded, "Please, Sir." She had almost forgotten her manners in her desperation. She rose on her knees so that she was eye level with his dick. She watched as he took his time unbuttoning his shirt. The more of his skin that he revealed, the more she craved contact. His frame was thick, and sturdy. It became hard for her to sit still and she no longer knew what to do with her hands, so she went back to squeezing her nipples that were slick with drool. It was when he removed his undershirt and began to unbuckle his belt when she interrupted.

"May I?"

He dropped his hands at his sides and moved closer towards her obliging her. Her fingers couldn't move fast enough to unbuckle his pants, and move his boxers out of the way. Her mouth was on him immediately, the pants and boxers still hung around his hips. She swallowed his length entirely. He let his head hang back as he growled under his breath. When he looked back down at her, he struggled to keep his composure at the sight. Her pretty chestnut eyes blinked up at him through full, curly lashes. She engulfed him again, and remained here until her throat strained. When he left her throat she gasped and moaned out.

"Take your time, baby. I'm not going nowhere." She nodded, only slightly embarrassed at her neediness.

"I love this big dick." She took him in her hands and slapped him against her tongue a few times. "You making me so wet."

She lifted him up and slowly glided her tongue under his shaft up and down, feeling each and every vein there. She left soft, wet kisses on his balls before licking them lightly, suctioning them with her lips. Her tongue rhythmically massaged the flesh. His groans only fueled her to take more of him into her mouth, as much as she could fit. She focused her lips again at the tip of his dick, while one hand massaged his balls. She tightened her lips around the head of his dick and watched him. His eyes were low but focused. His abdomen tensed beginning to thrust further into her as her teasing would only suffice for so long. She allowed him to set the pace, and when he began to hit the back of her throat, she nearly orgasmed to the lewd noises that came from her mouth. It was like there was a secret g-spot there that made her insides do summersaults when Erik poked it. He gently guided her movements with his hand on the back of her head. He felt amazing gliding down her throat, but she could take more. She dropped lower under him, sitting on her ankles, and placed her hands on the outside of his thigh, encouraging his movements so that he could literally drop the dick down her throat.

He groaned as he slid down her throat. "You are my lovely little cocksleeve. How's that feel angel?" She moaned and blinked back tears.

"Move your hands so I can give you what you asked for." She relaxed her muscles as best as she could and concentrated on breathing in through her nose when Erik would slide out. She loved the sensation of her heavy tits bouncing each time he'd hit the back of her throat. Saliva rolled down her chin and collected at he base of his dick. When he slid out of her, her only purpose was to clean him off.

Nyla was perched in front of him, watching his muscles move as he removed his clothes completely. He stepped backwards and sat down. When she tried to come closer to him, Erik shook his head. "Stay." His eyes were dark and stern.

She pouted in protest. He leaned back and stroked himself as he took in her body. The evening sunlight that filtered through the curtains hit her perfectly, amplifying the warm red undertone of her skin. Swollen lips, wet eyelashes, and a complete mess all over her breasts. Hesitantly, she moved her hand down her body into her shorts. She looked him in his eyes and raised her eyebrow as if to ask, 'Is this okay, is this what you want?' Her clit was moist and puffy. She circled her clit and cried out with need. When he did not stop her from touching herself, she took the lenience and ran with it. She leaned back, removed the shorts and it was a matter of seconds before her pussy welcomed her fingers inside. She did not take her eyes off of him or his dick. His chest moved up and down as he breathed and his forehead was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked so strong and godly gazing down at her while his muscles worked to pleasure himself. She took note of his movements so that when she took over, she could recreate them herself.

"Can I please cum? Can I cum with your dick in my mouth Sir?" He made her plea a few more times before he called her over with a hand signal and a nod. She crawled the short distance to him. She kissed his feet, his calves, and all the way up his thighs. Before she could begin, Erik grabbed her by the neck and kissed her sloppily. She used the wetness between her legs to make his dick shine before taking him in her mouth. Once she found her rhythm she played in her pussy until she came again. Her eyes rolled and fluttered with him still inside of her. She felt Erik's dick twitch in her mouth at the sight. She brought her face close to his and encased his dick between her breast, moving up and down slowly.

"Don't cum yet, cause then I'll have to stop. And I still haven't decided where I want your delicious cum? What do you think?" She licked her lips. Her movements, paired with her provoking words, were hypnotizing.

"Its your world baby." Is all he managed. She smiled internally, feeling empowered. His orgasms was hers. All hers.

"Good, I just want you to relax honey." Erik smiled at her endearment, her care meant the world to him. "I love you," she said lowly.

"I love you." Moments between them like this made the world feel like it was at a standstill, like only he and her existed and nothing else mattered. She took him in her hand and rubbed him against her face, scattering warm wet French kisses all over his groin and dick. She massaged him, only using her hands for a while, returning to his balls and further down to his taint, pressing gently.

"Fuck, baby." His breathing hitched and his toes curled so she took it easy in that area. While one hand stoked him, the other gently made its way up his torso. You brushed your lips and tongue against his torso, the sensation of her breath made goosebumps spread across his body.

"You are so handsome, you know that? I don't know how I got so lucky." Erik's head rested against the chair with his legs outstretched. His eyes were closed, only opening occasionally. She used both hands, twisting and stoking, letting her mouth drip onto him to keep it moist. She applied slight pressure to the tip, and when she noted Erik's hips tilting up towards her, she slowed her motions again.

"I could do this for hours. You taste so good."

She circled his dick around her lips basking in how nice and hard he was. When he briefly opened his eyes and saw the pleasant smile on her face, he began to moan, knowing she truly enjoyed this did something to him. Her intimacy and devotion made him feel seen.

He slid into her mouth with ease. She allowed herself a moment to rest there, paying him true tribute. She hummed and slowly began bobbing her head up and down, then added her hands to the combination.

"Mmmm, just like that." He groaned. "I think I want my cum down your pretty throat, would you like that?"

She moaned in response.

"Hands behind your back." He grabbed the curly bun and guided her head down his shaft, his hips thrusting up slowly. Her mouth opened wider and wider, and her tongue moved out to accommodate him. She held her head there until she began to struggle for air. He repeated the same again, leaving her gasping for air. As he held his position in her throat, he pinched her nose for a few seconds. Her throat spasmed around him before he released her and pulled away. Warm strings of saliva hung from her lips. The whites of her eyes turned began to turn crimson.

"Please, give it to me." He soothed her, wiping a tear that began to form at the corner of her eye. Her begging made his dick ache in bliss, a culmination of how he'd felt the past thirth minutes bathing in her mouth. He was back inside of her mouth, fucking her throat rapidly. She held her head still for him like a good girl would awaiting his cum. On her tongue, she felt his dick begin to throb. She could feel warm spurts ooze from him, marking her throat, and she swallowed each one as they came. His moans of satisfaction made her more fulfilled than she could ever describe. He squeezed the tip so that any remaining landed on her tongue. She licked her lips and placed subtle kisses on his dick that laid in his lap.

Her eyes ran over his body. He laid back, limbs limp in exhaustion. Once he gathered himself, he looked at her in pure amazement and appreciation. He could tell she wanted to be close to him, occupy his space.

"Come."

She straddled him, laying her head on his shoulder. He palmed her thighs, giving them a nice jiggle before lightly rubbing her back.

"Are you good princess?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you for letting me please you."

"Thank you, princess. Where'd you learn to be so attentive?"

"What do you mean?"

"You anticipate my needs. And that... that wasn't no regular head."

"Well, you anticipate mine too. You deserve honor. Just because you're my Dom doesn't mean I can't reciprocate. I belong to and submit you, without you asking."

"Damn, say that last part again?" He bit his lip before meeting your eyes and joining you in laughter.

"I belong to you, Sir." He traced her features with his eyes before gracefully placing pecks all over her face.

Several hours later, chimes from Erik's computer caused him to stir in his sleep. They'd fallen asleep in his office. He was disoriented until the glow of the screen caught his attention. He shifted under Nyla's weight causing her to grip him tighter and persuading him back to his sleep. It was 12:05am and chimes became continuous beckoning him to the computer. He sat her down where she curled into ball and sulked over to the screen. Several new emails sat in his inbox. The first was the official signed contract agreement. The next was a link to an article from T'Challa headlining to new deal.

Wakandan officials agree to allow U.S. based descendants of slavery asylum after rampant white supremest attacks.

"Damn these muthafuckas are fast. I knew those terms were fucking irresistible."

He picked Nyla up to carry to to their bedroom. She groaned at him disrupting her sleep, but he ignored it. "Baby, guess what? They signed the contract."

"Okay baby. Just have them call me tomorrow, I'm sleep."

Erik laughed off her nonsense and covered her body before sinking into the bed himself. He closed his eyes, noticing how light and refreshed he felt. Although he felt a sense of relief about this deal he groaned internally when he began to think about work. He recalled Nyla's words from earlier about honor. He knew that he needed to honor his body and mind because the exhaustion that encompassed him at the moment was not for the weak. He felt a sense of calm wash over him as he made the decision to take some time off of work, perhaps go on a vacation for the holidays.

taglist: @hearteyes-for-killmonger @loveeeeandaffection @iamrheaspeaks @adasosweet @goddessofthundathighs @thiccdaddy-mbaku@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @eye-raq @madamslayyy @sweeter-thejuice @wawakanda-btch @theunsweetenedtruth @wokeblock @smutty-smut-smuty @wakandamaybe @stainontheground @killmongerkink @soufcakmistress @mysticbear21 @nickidub718 @blackpinup22 @killmonger-fics @goddessofthundathighs

#killmonger imagine #killmonger smut #erik killmonger fanfiction #black panther smut #erik killmonger x oc

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buggyboba · 29 days ago

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Greetings, I hope you had a great weekend. If its okay with you I was wondering if I could please request a Dhawan!Master x reader (or you can choose another master instead if you want.) The reader is at a Halloween party dressed as Christine Daaé (from Phamtom of the Opera.) The reader sees someone dressed as the Phamtom and is almost compelled to follow the person and the reader ends up alone in a locked room with this person and a mirror but by the time the reader works out that it's the master it's too late and the reader is already hypnotised/captured

(Sorry if this is too details, please feel free to ignore or feel free to alter the characters' costumes.)

I hope you have a great day

AN 𓏧 ↳ ○ Hi hello! I need you to understand the speed in which I got out of bed to write this.You just unlocked some Buggy lore~ I also need you to know I am an ex-theater kid, (big surprise there right?) Phantom Of The Opera was the second musical that I latched on to in middle school and high school, my first HUGE special interest, so much so that I consumed every poto media I could and was allowed to growing up in my strict as fuck house. I went to some weird places, some off-broadway musical simply called ‘Phantom’, the sequel Love Never Dies, the novel, and a horror film where Robert Englud, played Erik. I used to be a first soprano, and Carlotta was my dream role, I used to be able to do her part in “Notes/Prima Donna” then I bruised my vocal cords, stopped singing for a while, and yeah as I got older my voice deepened significantly, and I am an alto now…and I am so out of practice. Anyway my point is, yeah of course I’ll write this! The costume I had in mind was very specific, and absolutely foreshadowing. I also went a little hard, do you guys like the little graphic I made, should I start doing that?

Trigger warning 𓏧 ↳ ○ hypnosis, but none other than that! ayo this is a sfw drabble! ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The Doctor had brought you back to earth for Halloween; it was one of your favorite holidays, and you were excited. You had the perfect costume picked out, and you had been working on it for weeks, putting together pieces from the Tardis’s wardrobe to get the perfect mix to make the perfect costume. You spent countless hours finding the right references to match exactly what you wanted. You wanted Christine Daaé, but from a specific scene, you wanted the costume from the Hannibal opera, leading into the Phantom of the Opera and Music of the Night. It was a very specific costume, but the ornate gems across the chest, the reds, greens, and golds of the dancer costume in that scene—every detail recreated with love and accuracy, covered by the long-sleeved white almost lacey overrobe. It was perfect, and you looked stunning in it; even if people didn’t know who you were dressed as, you knew, and it was sure to turn heads. You had invited The Doctor and Yaz to come with you, but The Doctor opted to spend it with Yaz, wanting to go to a haunted maze or something. It was fine; you wanted them to have some alone time anyway.

You got ready, curling your hair, doing your makeup, and making sure everything was fitted properly. When you were ready, The Doctor dropped you off, telling you to be careful and to be back to the drop-off spot by midnight. You laughed and joked, "Okay, mom,” and headed off to the party. The night air was cold; you clung to the lace tighter; perhaps you should have brought a jacket, but the party wasn’t too far of a walk. When you got there, it was an old theater; how fitting. The theater put on an annual Halloween party, and it was apparently a big thing; you hadn’t recalled hearing about it before, but then again, you had been traveling sometime with The Doctor. You slipped in, and the venue was filled with people. You tried to relax some; there were definitely more people here than you were expecting; the music was loud, and there was a smokey haze from a fog machine. It was decorated, but it felt disconnected. There were some scary props and the normal fake cobwebs and fake spiders, but then there were also cheerful cut-out skeletons on some of the wall. You saw where there were drinks and some snack food, but you didn’t want to risk spilling anything on your costume, not with it being so white and how long you spent on it. Your eyes scanned the room; people were dancing and talking, enjoying merryments, and then your eyes fell on him.

Atop the staircase he stood, he wore a bone-colored skull half mask that covered the top of his face and a heavy crushed red velvet tailcoat and pants with elaborate gold and black embroidery. Over his shoulders a heavy red velvet cape with a dark orange silk lining. You blinked; you knew exactly who he was dressed as—the phantom, but the red death costume from the Masqurade scene. It was stunning, the attention to detail was so fascinating. You tried to push through the crowd, but when you got to the stairs, he was gone. You frowned, trying to ask some of the people around the stairs if they had seen where the man had gone, but no one seemed to know what you were talking about, which was frustrating because that was not an easy-to-miss costume, the reds and oranges hard to ignore, yet no one seemed to recall seeing a person like that.

You frowned and rejoined the crowd. You caught a glimpse of that red tailcoat again towards the drinks and moved to get over there as quickly as you could, but the man was gone again. Were you seeing things? You couldn’t be, he was stunning—his tanned skin, the clean-cut beard, his dark slicked-back hair, his costume. God, you wanted to meet him; talk about his costume. But he seemed to be as elusive as the opera ghost he was dressed as tonight. You sighed and looked around; your wrist was grabbed from behind, and you felt a heavy presence, but it wasn’t scary. The leather was cold against your wrist as you turned, looking over your shoulder, coming face to face with the man you had been looking for, his dark coffee brown eyes staring into yours, his movements graceful as he waltzed you through the people.

You opened your mouth to speak, feeling your cheeks burning at being this close to him. “Nice costume,” you mumbled, and then felt like dying of embarrassment. ‘Nice costume, you dumbass. You had so much to comment on, but his hand against your waist and how he was looking at you made it near impossible to think. “I, um… Red Death, Phantom… It’s a good costume...very thought out...authentic.” You said trying to regain your composure.

“And you are Miss Daaé,” he murmured into your ear as he pulled closer, dancing you closer to the stage. “How fitting… It’s a beautiful costume, accurate. You are stunning tonight, my dear,” he grinned against your ear. He pulled back to look at you again. He sounded familiar; why did he sound familiar? Maybe he just had one of those voices. He seemed to notice your thoughts and tightened his hand on your waist, bringing you back to the present. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite...hard,” he grinned that cheeky grin, but something about his voice, his look, your body started to relax. “You are a very pretty little bird,” he continued. Once he got you close enough, he pulled away, keeping his hand in yours as he pulled you towards the backstage area. You felt you should run, felt you should get away, but your body betrayed you; it was a simple suggestion, ‘Come with me’, one that your body couldn’t help but follow. “I knew you were going to be dressed like this tonight, dressed for the occasion; the red death is fitting, isn’t it?” He asked, his voice soft, whispering like if he spoke louder it would break whatever spell you were under.

“Why is... how did you know?” You asked, your eyes still locked on his as he guided you effortlessly. He chuckled like he knew something you didn't, like the choice in the red death costume was an inside joke, like it was ironic, but he didn't give an explanation; instead, when he opened his mouth to speak, he bypassed the comment all together.

“Of course I would know, you worked on it so long, didn’t you?” he said, patting your hand with his other hand, leading you into the cast wings. “You talked about it a lot, with her other human pets.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of The Doctor and her ‘fam’. He was annoyed that she managed to keep you so close, so hidden from him, but he still had his ways. He had fancied you since his Missy days; you were feisty and so unafraid of him–her–him. Still unafraid, you had willingly gone off on your own on Halloween; without The Doctor, it took a lot of work to set this up; every aspect of this was his doing; he did love the long con. “You put so much effort into it, your browser history, my my, you wanted it to be perfect, for who?” He mused, pausing at a greenroom. His hand moved to your cheek, his eyes searching yours. “Me? No, but it is for me now,” he smirked a bit. “Come with me,” he vocalized this time, his eyes burning into yours. You felt your resolve fading faster. Your mind tugged, but it was like he was surrounding you. You clued in as soon as he talked about the doctor; you knew why his voice sounded familiar—the one time you had met him in this regeneration, when he was pretending to be the m16 agent, ‘O’. The Master.

You couldn’t pull away; you wanted to, you needed to escape, but he was thick in your mind; you hung on his every word, his command. “Don’t worry, pet, I’m not going to hurt you; that would be counterproductive; I need you.” he paused. “To get to her, of course, and you need to be alive for that, don’t you?” he said, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than you. He opened the door, motioning. You walked forward and into the green room. You felt him take your hand again as he led you towards the full-length mirror.

“I’m sure you will enjoy being my companion for a while; oh, I have such things to show you.” He said, “You will love it, dying stars, burning planets, and I just know you will stay of your own free will once you see what I have in store." He said his hand pressed against the mirror; it opened to reveal the inside of his Tardis. “She doesn’t pay attention to you like I will... She has Yaz, just like she had Clara before; that one was my doing, but god, it was perfect, wasn’t it? In a way, I am saving you from the terrible things that are to come,” he mused, motioning for you to enter the Tardis. You obediently walked in.

"Oh, we will have so much fun together.” He kissed your cheek before he closed the door and walked over to the console. He had such plans and you were going to be key in some of them; he now needed to keep you away from the Doctor and her meddling until he was sure you were on his side without the need for hypnosis. He knew he could charm you to his side; he could show you he was worth it.

#doctor who #the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #dhwan!master x female reader #THE EXPAND THING WON'T WORK PROPER GOD SPEED FOR THE LONG POST

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tragedycoded · 2 months ago

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OC fight game tag!

Loves @sableglass [x] and @leahnardo-da-veggie [x] unlocked the DMLS DLC for Tumblr Kombat.

I've definitely envisioned them as party members in a shitty RPGMaker horror game, so they port into a fighting game np.

Cole Sullivan

Health: 12 Strength: 10 Speed: 4 [the leg situation] Armor: 5 Cunning: 8

Special Attack: Peacemaker, a hit-scan ranged attack that will halve your HP if you don't perfectly time your dodge; Crutch Strike, which will knock you on your ass and leave you vulnerable to a follow-up: Cavalry Saber, an absolutely unfair combo attack.

Weakness: Limited mobility. Tank-like. Noticeable input lag when blocking; the developers will never fix it.

Idle Animation: Stands at attention on crutches. Occasionally frowns or adjusts his grip on the handles. If he's left idle too long, he will unholster his revolver and confirm the chamber is fully loaded. Sometimes Royston will run into his animation to smooch him on the cheek and run off again, which leaves his sprite with blushy cheeks and a :3 thought bubble.

Erik Hofer

Health: 8 Strength: 8 Speed: 6 Armor: 4 Cunning: 8

Special Attack: Ether Fist. An unchoreographed punch that heals 30% of his HP if it connects.

Weakness: Easily stunlocked.

Idle Animation: Black bag in one hand, cigarette in the other, he looks from side to side with a bored expression until he finishes smoking. Will roll his eyes if left long enough to finish smoking.

Arthur Royston

Health: 6 Strength: 8 Speed: 10 Armor: 8 Cunning: 12

Special Attack: Death From Above. Will climb any environmental structures (trees, railings, walls, etc.) and jump down on top of his opponent. Don't let him do this if you're less than half health or it's one-shot. Also has Talk Shit, which will debuff either Speed or Cunning.

Weakness: Easily distracted, poor impulse control. Short. Poison attacks are 50% more effective against him.

Idle Animation: Bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, twirling a hunting knife, waggling his eyebrows. Will eventually throw back his head in maniacal laughter, throw the knife, and run off-screen.

Melanie Gott

Health: 8 Strength: 5 Speed: 6 Armor: 6 Cunning: 10

Special Attack: Leg Sweep. Causes knockdown, leaves opponent vulnerable to having the shit beat out of them with a broom. Also Shotgun Blast. Exactly what it sounds like.

Weakness: Her punch attacks are ineffective against opponents with high Armor.

Idle Animation: Holding a shotgun with the barrel aimed at the ground, she rolls out her shoulders. Looks like she'd be rather be anywhere else. Every 60 seconds there's a 1% chance Royston will run through her idle animation, which makes her make the -_- face.

I know all of y'all have been tagged already, but tag! And it's open.

@cowboybrunch @finickyfelix @saturnine-saturneight @ashfordlabs @autism-purgatory

@noblebs @aintgonnatakethis @the-golden-comet @asablehart @mauvecatfic

@leahnardo-da-veggie @sableglass @gioiaalbanoart @words-after-midnight

@lavender-bloom @jev-urisk @wyked-ao3

#oc fight game tag #dmls-spoilers #c: cole sullivan #c: erik hofer #c: arthur royston #c: melanie gott #doom metal love story

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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 months ago

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To tide everyone over (and to release a creative thought I had today), here are some design/dragon characteristic ideas for the X-Men and Reader in Claws and Fangs AU (the X-Men Evolution version, not Scales and Tails, the Animated Series one):

(X-Men Adults)

Charles Xavier/The Professor: has pale gray-green scales on his legs and some on his cheeks, has a tail that is long and graceful which is in his lap usually (does not have horns, claws, fangs or wings)

Ororo Munroe/Storm: has opalescent scales dotting her cheeks and forehead as well as her hands, has beautiful wings in white and gold that act as her cape and coat (has no tail, claws, fangs or horns)

Logan Howlett/Wolverine: has black scales lining his cheeks, arms, hands and legs, has a thick tail with a spiked end, has claws, has two horns that curl upward, has sharp fangs (has no wings)

Hank McCoy/Beast: has indigo and gray scales on his neck, arms, and legs, has a strong tail, has thick claws, has crushing fangs (no horns or wings)

(Brotherhood/Acolyte Adults)

Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto: has pale silvery scales across his forehead, cheeks, and hands, has strong gray wings that are bat-like, has two pale horns on his head that stick upright, has a thin silvery tail (has no claws or fangs)

Victor Creed/Sabretooth: has golden-brown and dark brown scales on his face, arms, legs, and hands and feet, has long claws, has a long dappled tail, has four horns that curve, has long, tusk-like fangs (has no wings)

Raven Darkholme/Mystique: has royal blue and vermillion scales on her forehead, back, arms, and legs, has small fangs, has a small crest of dark red horns (does not appear with wings or claws, but can grow them when taking on another form)

(X-Men Teens)

Scott Summers/Cyclops: has red-brown scales on his hands and around his eyes, has two short horns that poke through his hair (has no claws, tail, wings or fangs)

Jean Grey/The Phoenix: has fiery orange scales on her forehead and hands, has a curling goldfish-orange tail, has sunset orange wings (has no claws, fangs, or horns)

Anna-Marie/Rogue: has dark green and gray-black scales on her cheeks and hands, has one white and one black horn, has small fangs, has a strong forest green tail (does not have wings or claws)

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler: has navy blue scales on his face, arms, back, and legs, has a lithe blue tail with a spaded end, has small midnight blue claws, has tiny fangs, has two small horns (has no wings)

Kitty Pryde/Shadowcat: has pale lavender and pink scales on her cheeks and neck, has two small wings (has no claws, horns, fangs or tail)

Evan Daniels/Spyke: has cream yellow scales on his cheeks, forehead, and forearms, has four small horns like a crest, has a spiky tail (has now wings or claws or fangs)

(Brotherhood Teens)

Lance Alvers/Avalanche: has dark brown scales on his forehead and under his eyes, has hard fangs (has no horns, claws, tail, or wings)

Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver: has pale teal scales on his cheeks and collarbone, has a whip-thin tail, has two small horns (has no wings, claws, or fangs)

Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch: has scarlet red and black scales on her cheeks, neck, and hands, has red and black wings that act as a coat when needed, has two small fangs, has four black horns (has no tail or claws)

Fred Dukes/The Blob: has khaki and army green scales on his back and cheeks, has a large tail (has no wings, claws, horns or fangs)

Todd Tolanksy/Toad: has yellow-green scales on his face, arms, legs, and back, has a tail like a tadpole (has no claws, wings, fangs or horns)

(Acolyte/Brotherhood Teens)

Remy LeBeau/Gambit: has hot pink and deep red-brown scales on his cheeks, near his eyes, and across his neck and back, has a prehensile brown and pink tail, has two horns that curl slightly, has two brown wings that act as a coat when needed (has no claws or fangs)

St. John Allerdyce/Pyro: has bright orange and yellow scales, has a pair of shiny fangs (has no claw, tail, wings or horns)

Piotr Rasputin/Colossus: has silver metallic scales on his face, arms, back, and legs, has two large horns like a ram's (has no wings, tail, claws or fangs)

Reader Readerson/???: (figuring it out, will update once it's decided)

(If anyone wants to ask about this, I can answer a few questions tonight, but tomorrow through Sunday, I will be unavailable) ( @sugar-soda @thewickedweiner @vivid-bun @weebwholovesuchihasasuke @danni1323) (Enjoy the Mutants-Are-Dragons Multiverse!)

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #platonic yandere xmen evolution au #🐾claws and fangs au

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wandamyconfort · 1 year ago

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if I were you.. | CH.2

wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

summary: y/n is best friends with vision, who ironically, is the boyfriend of his worst enemy, wanda maximoff. until one night, when the clock struck midnight, they are both struck by something mysterious that completely changes the fate of their best friends, including a certain redhead… be careful what you wish for.

CH.1

sorry for any translation errors, english is not my first language

You woke up at 6:00 a.m. sharp as usual. I did this every day even on weekends so as not to lose the habit. Soon went to the bathroom to do his facial skin cleanse followed by 30 minutes of elliptical bike. a relaxing shower to soon after get dressed. a black blouse, jeans and white sneakers. you went downstairs quickly and ate breakfast.

Punctually at 8:00 a.m. you was at school, ready for another day that was already promptly scheduled; First class in history, Biology, Physics II and Mathematics. Then about 10 minutes to clear yourself of the likely scratch cards that were yet to come from Wanda, Valkyrie, Sam or Bucky. Then would perform his solo at the club leaving everyone else dumbfounded and dying of envy of his talent. Not to forget, of course, Mrs. Miller who would try to ruin his life. And later after school would go home to Vision to help him with his subjects which he was still struggling.

Vision left his girlfriend's house before the sun came up. Wanda's parents liked her boyfriend, but didn't find it at all pleasant for the boy to enjoy the moment. Since they had to spend the night out for work reasons.

Natalya and Erik worked together because they were two successful entrepreneurs. They had to always be traveling to conferences, meetings, outreaches, and partnerships with other companies. The trips were sometimes to cities closer but also distant, requiring them to stay up to four days away. That was one thing Wanda and vision had in common: the absence of her parents.

But Mrs. Agnes was the one who rescued the girl's parents. A very nice lady who bordered on 70 years old, gray hair and expressive blue eyes.

Wanda had her as a grandmother, or rather a second mother.

The lady who lived alone, despite having a granddaughter who lived in New York with her father, had been caring for Wanda since the frauds. She had a huge affection for the girl that only tended to increase.

Her house was close by, next to her own. To be sure. In her room, the girl was near the window that facilitated communication between them without having to go to the other's house.

- Banana and... Bacon? - asked moving closer to his bedroom window.

The woman nodded with her infectious smile as she stirred the pot.

- Are you coming for coffee or need a formal invitation? - Agnes asked, raising her gaze.

Wanda didn't think twice about running to her grandmother's house. she would never turn down bananas and a good bacon.

(...)

- Your clothes... I don't know what classification to put them in. - She said, as she analyzed you from head to toe.You just rolled your eyes.

- Y/N, l mean it... I've offered you a redesign but I don't know why it costs to refuse... Look at me. - Took a turn for you to analyze the look. - I'm from Celine today. - she said with a proud smile referring to the brand of your clothing as you looked at it as if it had three heads.

- Get out of the way, freak. - Insulted Bucky followed by a scratch card by one of his friends.

-Thug! - she let go as he took a deep breath covered by the newly scratched card.

- I think your Celine outfit is a lot better now. - You can't help it, trying your best to hold back the laughter.

Natasha ignored it.

"My eyes are burning," she paused for a moment and went back to talking still static. - My clothes will stain and my hair that took me hours to tidy up... And now see how it is! - She let out a scream tapping her foot angrily.

-Comes... Let's go to the bathroom. I help you.

(...)

It was exactly 7:30 p.m. when you arrived at the vision house. The boy opened the door and made a funny grimace.

- Punctual, huh? - Smiled letting you walk past him.

- As always. - she added and smiled when saw his mother in sight there.

- Good evening, Mrs. Stark.

- Hey, good night, Y/n! - Smiled friendly at the girl. - I already told you it's just pepper. Without that Mrs.

you blushed in agreement.

"Son, I'm going to have to be on call again today. It was an unforeseen event, Patricia asked me to replace her and I could not deny it... But I've already prepared dinner. - Argued for vision while fiddling with something inside the bag.

The boy sighed shaking his head in agreement.

- Feel at home, honey. - she said goodbye to the two of them by placing a kiss on each other's foreheads. Already near the door she looks at the vision and smiles.

- Mom Loves You.

Vision just gave a half smile listening to the door of the house closing.

- You should tell her. - You filled the silence that had become.

- Say what?

- Vision... Don't make a fool of yourself. To say that you miss her, her company. Saying you wanted her to spend more time with you. Who loves her!

- I don't know what you're talking about. - He tried to disguise himself while looking at the ground.

-Let's go... Stop. I know you very well. - Got close to him stroking the boy's arm.

"I'm your soul sister, remember?" I know you like the back of my hand.

"So let's go, my soul sister, take my math questions because I'm completely lost. Since the teacher arrives saying "Good morning, class!" I get lost. - he tried to change the subject by making her friend laugh.

He led you into the living room where there were several books on the table.

"And there we go," - you whispered.

(...)

The night quickly followed. You tried to help him with all the doubts without realizing that the hours were passing. He looked at the time on his cell phone and almost had a heart attack when he realized it was 11:27 p.m.

- My parents must already be worried, I have to go.

- Yes, of course. I accompany you. - He said already getting up and screwing up his whole body making a grimace appear on his face when he heard several streaks that to you, were agonizing.

- No need. I'm walking and it's not even that far, just a few blocks...

- I'm not crazy about letting you go alone, especially at this time. Not even thinking. - Grabbed his coat that was on the couch and put it on.

"Okay," rolled his eyes. - I'd really be scared to death of going it alone.

-I know. I know you like the back of my hand. - Smiled repeating the same phrase she had used hours ago.

(...)

It was cold and You ran his hands over his arms to try and warm himself in vain. When he realized it, he instantly took off his coat and gave it to you, who smiled thankfully. You both traced the path by talking about trivial things without being able to avoid spontaneous laughter until you stood on your feet staring at something. The boy frowned looking at you and followed gaze. There was a fountain with a large gray statue in the center, very beautiful. you who adorned that huge almost empty square. had never noticed that source there, so you assumed it had been placed recently. Without holding back, they came closer, exploring her.

They just watched her for a while until her voice broke the silence.

- Vision... Why are you with wanda? I swear I don't understand. - It's been a while since you've wanted to ask that.

-Why not? I like it, simple. - Said friendly.

- I honestly don't understand how anyone can like wanda maximoff. She's so... urg. - He shook his head in disgust.

- You say that because you don't really know her. -Retorted. You snorted looking at him.

- I also don't understand how I can be friends with Sam and Bucky's idiots. They're disgusting!

- I'm not friends with them! We're just teammates on the same football team and that's it. You don't see me talking to them, do you? - He shrugged. - And it wouldn't go down well either, since they threw scratch cards in my face when I was a rookie.

- You said it. - Retorted sarcastically

- I don't know what you're complaining about so much, Y/n. Your life is perfect! - you laughed incredulously hearing that.

- No kidding, right, Stark.

- i'm serious. You are decisive, you don't care what others think of you. You know where you came from, where you're going, you have two parents who love you and who will always be by your side. you has an amazing voice for just a seventeen-year-old girl. you has a bright future as a singer, always knew what you wanted and fights to achieve it tooth and nail... And me. He looked at himself letting out a nosey laugh. - I'm a guy who has no idea what he's going to do after high school, I don't know where I'm going... What good is this 'popularity' now, if in a few years it will be worth nothing?

- What are you talking about? - She asked incredulously. - My life sucks! Everyone sees me as a loser and deep down I really feel that way. I'm not as determined as you think, I try to show myself like this to camouflage my insecurities and not feel like garbage like everyone makes me feel. You are the Quarterback of the team, handsome, popular, all the girls die of love for you. Date the most beautiful and popular girl there, everyone loves you there and... - You rambled and Vision rolled his eyes.

- that's enough!. - He snorted, interrupting his speech. - Don't fuck, Y/n...

- Your life that's perfect here! - You finished by tapping your foot.

- It's yours. -Insisted.

They began a discussion about the perfect life monologue between them. you turned your back on him crossing your arms with a frown ending the argument, Vision did the same. Their breaths were flawed from the debate. They stayed like that for a few seconds, not knowing each other's next move, they both turned forward screaming together:

- I wish I had your life! - They shouted in coincidence, actually ending the discussion.

The pole light flashed instantly and shattered startling you who took a step back. All the lights in the square began to flicker as they broke soon after, leaving the two of them staring at each other in the total darkness of the night.

(...)

you woke up early, at the usual time, slowly opening your eyes, still sleepy you headed for the bathroom when you stopped on your way looking at the bedroom.

What the hell am I doing in the vision's house? -you thought out loud looking around recognizing he friend's room.

- I remember going home and... - Murmured thoughtfully to herself. - Oh, shit! My parents are going to kill me... Sleeping here unannounced, they'll have the marine guard after me by now! - You raised your voice.

- You frowned. - Damn, I've gone hoarse. - This time you whispered, and choked, noticing that your voice was thick.

You didn't think twice and left the room, stunned and sleepy. You went down the stairs looking for the exit, you had to leave urgently and you would get out of there without waking anyone.

It was then that her reflection caught her attention in the mirror that adorned the wall in the large room. you frowned more and took a few steps back. The first thing she did was to widen her eyes, petrified, and cautiously observe if what her eyes stubbornly showed her was just a dream.

Slowly you moved hands up to his face, feeling it, now was sure that this was not a dream? It was a nightmare! You opened your mouth in horror and began to scream sterilely. Your eyes were still on the mirror that showed you the reflection of your friend Vision.

You screamed, screaming louder and louder.

- Son, what happened? Are you okay? - Questioned Pepper, newly awakened by the screaming, walking down the stairs in her pajamas, almost tripping over her own feet, totally frightened.you still had your eyes wide open. you didn't answer, just stared at your reflection in the mirror.- Son? Why are you screaming?

- she approached me, evidently concerned, touching the shoulder that was supposed to be your son. There were no answers to your questions.

- This can't be happening? - you hissed almost inaudibly. Hearing that thick voice, which was not her own, made her even more terrified. - If I'm here then vision is... - you whispered thoughtfully, and without finishing reasoning, walked quickly to the door with quick steps. you just didn't expect to fall. you wasn't used to those long legs.

you stood up again, grabbing the first pair of pants saw on the way. pepper stared at the scene in confusion.

- Where do you think you're going at this hour? - The woman asked as she saw him open the door.

- Don't worry, Mrs. Pepper, everything is fine! - you replied at last unconvincingly, his voice shaking terribly. you tried to calm himself by walking out the door, leaving the stunned and even more confused woman in the middle of the room.

- Mrs. Pepper? - she murmured confused.

(...)

every evening after dinner, scott and hope would sit in the living room in front of the fireplace and talk about banal things, accompanied by a good wine, which always made them go to bed later, which resulted in: they always woke up later the next morning.

you always reproached them for this. always saying that we should all get at least eight hours of sleep. But today you were grateful for that. You entered the house very easily with the extra keys that your parents left hidden in one of the flower pots in the garden.

she closed the door, trying not to make a sound. Her parents were completely unconscious on the living room floor. She walked cautiously up the stairs on her new long legs. If they woke up, she would be dead because she had been caught in the act. After all, what was the boy doing there at that time? She arrived in front of her door and began to knock, trying to make as little noise as possible.

- vision, open this door. - She whispered and knocked again.

You cursed yourself for always sleeping with the bedroom door locked, since you liked privacy, but at this moment you really wanted to break the damn door down and you were sure you could.

- Vision… Damn it, vision, wake up! - You increased the frequency of your knocking, realizing that you wouldn't wake the other one up.

The boy frowned, his eyes still closed.

- Y/n? - he asked lazily, still getting out of bed.

- Open the damn door! - Despair was already taking over his body when he heard a pair of footsteps downstairs.

- What are you doing here? - He didn't finish his sentence after opening his eyes and observing the place.

- Hey… What am I doing in your room?

- Vision, will you please open this fucking door?! - I was getting more and more nervous, impatient, scared, and afraid of what was going to happen behind that door.

- Hey, calm down, I'll be right there… - He speech died after opening the wooden door, now the two were face to face looking at each other in terror.

- You… but I… what?

Vision couldn't formulate a sentence so he limited himself to screaming. you entered, locking the door behind you and covering the boy's mouth to stop the screaming.

- Damn it, don't scream. You'll get my parents' attention! - you whispered.

- Will you be quiet? - vision shook his head frantically.

- W-what happened? - He managed to speak in a stutter, his eyes opening wider and wider as if it were still possible.

- I don't know. I have no idea, when I woke up I was like this. - She spoke quickly, apprehensive, looking at her body.

- If you are me and I am you, then… - He looked stunned at his new body and his eyes widened. - damn y/n… I HAVE BREASTS! - The boy shouted hysterically, running his hands over his body.

You, who hadn't stopped to notice this derealization, turned red, and became hysterical again.

- Oh, holy shit, I have too much volume between my legs.

Unlike Vision, you didn't dare to put your hand on the new body, you just looked down and even though you were wearing sweatpants you could feel it.

- Y/n, honey, is everything okay? - Scott's voice made itself present, knocking on the door, and you widened your eyes.

- Answer! - you whispered to vision remembering that you couldn't do it with that man's voice.

- Yes... Everything's fine baby! - The boy murmured in a shaky voice, trying to sound natural with that feminine voice. He scratched the back of his neck nervously at the girl's gaze on him.

- Everything's fine baby? - mumbled Scott, confused by his daughter's slang, but shrugged. - Come down, coffee is ready. - He said as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

slapped Vision on the head, who was now smaller than you.- Everything's fine, baby? Everything's fine, baby?

- I didn't mean it. I was nervous!- It's okay... - He sighed, running his hand through his hair and soon missed his long hair.

- Y/n, what are we going to do? I can't go home like this... - He spoke angrily on the edge of the bed.

- Calm down ... First let's think about what could have caused this. - Reasoned a little trying to keep calm walking from side to side with his hands in his hair.- Maybe it was something we ate...

- Don't be an idiot. No food, no matter how bad it was, couldn't have done such damage.

- Sorry, I'm nervous... - He stood up, tapping his foot on the floor at every moment without taking his eyes off the body he now occupied.

- Or maybe... - You looked at him who now occupied your body.

- Last night... When we came from your house... - You said thoughtfully pausing the words and Vision seemed to understand.

- In the square... - He followed your reasoning.

- The fountain...

- We wished...

- To have each other's lives! - They concluded together.

- No, no, not this! This can't be happening… I didn't mean it, and how is that possible? I was happy with my life, I want my body back! - The young man spoke in agony pacing back and forth in the middle of the room.

- I didn't mean it either, I was just trying to be nice. And this is all your fault, if you hadn't started with the 'Your life is perfect, y/n, blah blah blah' talk, none of this would have happened.

- My fault? It's your fault that you came up with all that monologue about the perfect life and 'Your life is perfect here, Vision'. - he imitated in annoying little Y/N voice, a perfect imitation, by the way, since the voice was her own.

You looked at him with a frown and went on. A small fight started between the two of you, who were now rolling on the floor of the room.

- Give me my body back! Give it back! - Vision shouted, his small body on top of the other as he squeezed what had been his face the night before as if he wanted to get her off him.

- No! You give me back my body! - you shouted, now taking control of the fight and standing over the other, pulling the brown hair that used to be his.

- Ouch, ouch, enough! - he pushed her. - This way we won't get anywhere! - Vision put an end to the fight.

- You're right... Instead of fighting let's try to find solutions to solve this. - she stood up and helped the other soon after. - And I think I already know where we start...

The two went out the back door without being seen by Scott who was watching TV. Hope was still asleep, now lying on the sofa. You, who now occupied the boy's body, were dressed in a blue tank top that made the blonde's statuesque body clearly visible. A pair of black sweatpants and sandals. Vision who occupied your body was wearing his pink pajamas and put only a jacket on top, they drove to the square where everything started.

When they arrived at the place they were surprised, for there was no fountain anywhere. But there was a huge hole where it used to be, with pipes in sight and some bricklayers assessing the place.

- What happened here? - Vision asked, approaching one of the bricklayers involved in the work.

The same one stopped his work looking at the two young people, immediately looked at Vision drying him, seeing that the unknown girl was wearing a baggy pink shorts leaving her legs showing. You, who was behind Vision, noticed this and made a face of disgust, clearing his throat.

- Ah, there was a problem with the plumbing, some pipes burst, that is, a disaster! We'll have to replace everything.

- And the fountain... where is it? - You in the friend's body asked, checking all around without any trace of it.

- It had to be removed while we fixed everything.

- But you don't know where they took it?

- Um... No. But if you go to the city hall, I think someone can tell you. - The youngsters didn't waste any time. The town hall was right in front of the square.

- Can you give us some information? - The person who occupied the Y/N body turned to the old receptionist, with a face that said 'I hate my job'.

- It's about the fountain that used to be in the square. We want to know where it is. - You who occupied the boy's body asked, already impatient.

- I don't know. - answered automatically while you were messing with the computer.

- What do you mean you don't know? For God's sake, it's a fountain with a huge statue right in the center.

- Calm down. - interrupted the boy next to her. - You'll have to excuse her... I mean, he! - He corrected himself when he noticed the confused look on the woman's face, who was now looking at them with an arched eyebrow. - It's just that that fountain was of great sentimental value to us... So if you would be so kind, could you help us, please?

- she rolled his eyes at the girl's plea. - not in town, I don't know exactly where are. There's no information here. - she said while his dark eyes checked the computer screen. - But it says here that he will be back. Well, let me see…

Your eyes scanned the screen and you started tapping your foot on the floor impatient with the delay.

- Ah... Here it is. In a month it will be back.

- ONE MONTH? - You shouted and some people who worked there looked at him. Vision, occupying her friend's body, elbowed her in the rib.

- Okay. Thanks! - Vision resigned himself. he knew she had nothing else to do but wait. He pulled his friend's strong arm and left the place to spare themselves from further humiliation from the stares and whispers of several people who were in the place stared at them for not being dressed appropriately. Especially you, who was now him and tentatively wearing pink pajamas.

- What are we going to do now? - You groaned, putting your hands through your hair. You were visibly worried as you stared at the road in the passenger seat and at the driver's seat occupied by the body that now didn't belong to you.

- I don't know. - You looked at her and saw your own worried brown eyes. - I guess we'll have to wait... I still don't understand how that fountain could have caused us this. I mean, what kind of fountain was it? Fountain of desires? - he exclaimed sarcastically, making quotation marks with your fingers without looking away from the road.

- I don't understand it either. But now that you told me that, I remembered something… - you was trying to remember. - Just below the central statue of the fountain there was a small metal plate with some words… Do you remember?

- I think so… - he wrinkled his forehead, thoughtful. - Yes, there was but it wasn't in English so it didn't hold my attention much. It seemed to be in Italian, or Russian or German… I don't know. - He was also trying to remember.

A brief silence flooded the car and Vision decided to go home, and as the clock was eight o'clock he assumed that his mother would already be in the hospital.

- Wait... Fare Attenzione a ciò che si desidera! - you tried to pronounce the words that were now invading his mind.

- What? Speak our language, Y/n! - That was the phrase. - And what does it mean? - he asked confused.

- I have no idea? but we can find out. - You answered, getting out of the car and following the boy who had already opened the front door. They confirmed that the boy's mother had already left for work with the typical notes that they used to leave her, this time on the coffee table in the living room.

"Son, I won't be on call today, Patricia is already better and will be taking over my shift as a thank you, I was worried about how you were this morning. You looked dazed. I'll be early, don't be late for school.... Mommy loves you."

Vision was reading that note as You already took hold of the small laptop, which was sitting on top of the couch. To search for those unknown words that now could not get out of your head.

- Be careful what you wish for... - You whispered, seeing the meaning of that phrase, still keeping your eyes fixed on the computer screen in your lap.

- So... That's it. I guess we'll just have to live each other's lives. - murmured the boy, coming closer.

- Are you crazy? - you asked incredulously. - We have no other way, you heard that lady. The damned fountain won't be back for another month, what are we supposed to do between now and then?

- Let's tell someone what happened. - Maybe someone can help us. - You said.

- Do you think that's a good idea?

- It costs nothing to try. - you frowned and remembered something, looked at the clock on one of the walls. - Damn, Vision, it's going to be almost nine o'clock, we're already late! - you whined, crying. Yes, you were crying, but not because you were going to be late, that was just a pretext. You were crying because you were terrified of everything that was happening.

- Stay calm. It's okay if we're a little late, everything will be fine. I'm here, we're in this together.

He knew you better than anyone else and knew you were afraid so he wrapped you in a tender embrace which resulted in you both feeling strange, embracing yourself was indescribable

- Besides, I'm horrible at crying, so stop. - He said in a humorous tone, separating from the hug and looking at the face that until yesterday belonged to him.

You couldn't help but draw a small smile at the comment.

- Have I ever said I have a nice smile? - Vision asked smugly, causing you to slap him. The boy looked at you with a pained expression, it had hurt.

you chose not to take a shower, you really weren't ready for that yet. You couldn't imagine cleaning a body that wasn't yours, even though you knew it would happen at some point. You still needed to assimilate all this, so you just changed clothes trying to keep your eyes closed with the help of Vision who showed you what to wear: a pair of beige jeans, a white tank top, and a green plaid shirt over it, and sports shoes.

- Y/n, I don't even think I'll need to go to your place to change. - You had slept a few days ago at your friend's house because of a double work and decided to stay there. you should have forgotten that sweater and a pair of jeans that had already been washed.

- Great. Then get dressed and let's go.

- I think I should take a shower first. - he said expectantly with a humorous sideways smile.

- Don't you dare! - You gave him a murderous look.

- Okay. The one who spoke is no longer here. - He laughed lightheartedly and started to change his clothes.

(...)

In less than ten minutes by car they arrived at the school. In the end neither of them had been late, because the first class was geography for both of them and it had been vacant. Then they walked, as if everyone in the hall knew it, towards the lockers to get the books for the next class.

- Are you ready? - sighed the boy with all his belongings in hand.

- I think so.... I mean, no! - She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them, she was nervous.

- And you?

The image of Valkyrie and Sam appeared in the hallway with the usual scratch card in their hands. The tall girl smiled with amusement as she saw Loki picking up his books from the floor, freshly knocked over by a basketball player. As the boy stood up with everything in hand, the girl knocked the scratch card right into his face, who now dropped all the books again to wipe his eyes.

- You immediately closed your eyes tightly as you saw Sam come close. But the cold scratch never came.

- Damn... I had forgotten how it burns. Poor Loki. - muttered the boy, his eyes closed with anger.

At the same moment you opened yours and found your friend's face all soaked and squeezing his eyes, at that moment you mentally thanked for not being in your body.

- You'll have to get used to this. - You helped him clean himself up.

- This is supposed to be the moment when you are supposed to help me look on the bright side of things. - He opened a small smile still scratching his eyes. Vision quickly remembered something and opened his still red eyes and looked startled at you.

- What now?

- Damn, what are we going to do with Wanda? - You widened your eyes.

- Oh... Oh, shit! - You cursed.

- Vision, why didn't you call me yesterday?You said you would call me but I didn't get any call from you. Why didn't you call me? - questioned the redhead who had approached the two of them.

- I'm sorry... - She interrupted herself realizing the situation she was in. The girl who had her hands on her waist dropped them when she heard the other's voice. She turned her eyes away from Vision and looked at the girl, seeing how soaked she was, she tried to hold back her laughter.

- Your house ran out of water and the only way was to take a shower with a scratch pad?

- You hunchbacked ass...

You couldn't continue with the insult as Vision glared at you with his big brown eyes followed by an elbow in the arm subtly so that Wanda wouldn't notice.

wanda was surprised that Y/n didn't retort to her insults. But she paid no attention to it and turned her gaze back to the boy. He looked as if he was having an epileptic fit because he was so restless in his seat. Tension took over. Vision didn't know how to act in front of his girlfriend and you just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

- Wanda I-I'm going to class now... - You tried to be as natural as possible in front of the other's attentive gaze on you. - Talk to you later, okay? - You improvised, slowly walking away taking Vision with you.

- Vision. - called him in a velvety voice making both of them stop their way. - Aren't you going to give me even a kiss?

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