#mutant!reader

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

~~

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

.

.

Part 2

[sykoangels]

Oh, Professor?

paring: mutant!reader x professor!logan

warning: age gap (everyone is 18+) slight dubcon and kissing

notes: something about Professor Logan makes me giggle and kick my feet!! I wanted to start a series so this is part one please tell me what y’all think! Let me know if you want a part two!!

PART TWO IS OUT NOW!!

The clock on Logan's desk ticked loudly, each second dragging like a reluctant participant in an unwanted march. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single desk lamp that cast long shadows across the worn wooden floor. Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the stack of papers before him. His brow was furrowed, and his jaw clenched as he reviewed the latest batch of assignments from his students. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be doing this, but Charles had made it clear: teach or leave. And leaving meant no more free booze, no more sanctuary

A soft knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t look up, just grunted in acknowledgment. The door creaked open, and a familiar scent wafted into the room—something floral, yet earthy, like wildflowers after a rainstorm. Logan’s heart skipped a beat, though he’d never admit it to anyone. “Professor Logan?” Y/N’s voice was soft, tentative, but there was a hint of something else beneath the surface—a sense boldness simmering.

Logan finally looked up, meeting her gaze. She stood in the doorway, her hair in a slick ponytail not a single hair was out place besides the strains of hair framing her face perfectly. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, and her lips were curved into a small, almost shy smile. She wore a simple baby blue dress with a small bow on the collar. The dress that clung to her curves in all the right places, and Logan felt a surge of something he hadn’t felt in years—desire, mixed with a heavy dose of guilt.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice gruff. “What do you need?”

Y/N stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. The click of the latch echoed in the silence between them. “I was wondering if I could get extra help with the calculus assignment. I’m having a bit of trouble with the derivatives.” Y/N mentioned softly looking at the math sheet Logan handed out during class. The paper has some eraser marks and scribbles of some problem-solving work already etched into the paper. Logan raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. She was one of his top students, always acing his tests and assignments. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt maybe she didn’t understand some of the problems. It was duty as a professor to help her? Right?

He sighed, pushing the stack of papers aside and patting the chair right next to him. “Alright, come sit down. Let’s see what you’ve got.” Y/N walked over to the chair opposite his desk, her movements graceful and deliberate. She sat down, crossing her legs and placing her notebook on the desk. Logan couldn’t help but notice how her dress rode up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of thigh. He forced himself to focus, opening her notebook and scanning the pages

“Show me where you’re stuck bub,” he said, trying to keep his tone professional. She pointed to a problem halfway down the page. “Right here, I can’t seem to figure out the chain rule for this one.” Logan leaned closer adjusting their reading glasses, his breath hitching as he caught a whiff of her perfume. He cleared his throat, reaching for a pen and starting to explain. As he spoke, he noticed her eyes drifting, not to the paper, but to his hands. They were large, calloused, and rough—hands that had seen countless battles, hands that could crush bone with ease. But now, they moved with surprising delicacy, writing equations on the paper with precision.

“You understand so far bub? You know if you’re confused just stop me alright.” he asked, glancing up. Y/N’s eyes snapped back to his, and she nodded quickly. “Yeah, I think so.” Logan continued, explaining the concept in more detail, but his mind was elsewhere. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken desire that neither of them dared to acknowledge. When he finished, he looked at her expectantly.

“Think you can handle it now? Try this problem by yourself bub.” Logan said pointing at one of the problems at the bottom of the sheet. Y/N hesitated, biting her lower lip. “Maybe… I think I might need you to explain once more. It’s just math isn’t my strong suit.” Y/N says looking at Logan Logan sighed inwardly. He knew where this was heading, and part of him—the part that still remembered what it was like to be young and reckless—wanted to indulge her. But the other part, the responsible part, the part that knew better, wanted to send her away and forget this ever happened.

“Alright,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s go through it one more time.” As he leaned in to point out another aspect of the problem, their faces were mere inches apart. The warmth of her breath brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He could see the pulse fluttering in her neck, the way her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes.

And then, without warning, Y/N reached out, her hand gently brushing against his. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of arousal through him. Logan froze, his breath catching in his throat. “Professor…” she whispered, her voice trembling Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, every instinct screaming at him to pull away, to put an end to this madness. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers. The room seemed to shrink around them, the world outside fading into nothingness. “Y/N…” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

Y/N leaned closer, her lips parted slightly, her breath warm against his cheek. Logan’s mind raced, torn between duty and desire, between what was right and what he desperately wanted. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, the subtle curve of her breasts pressing against his chest as she closed the distance between them. Subsequently, just as their lips were about to meet, a sharp knock sounded at the door, jolting them both back to reality. Logan jerked away, his heart pounding in his ears. Y/N’s hand fell from his, and she quickly straightened her dress, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Come in!” Logan called out, his voice strained. The door opened, and Jean poked her head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Logan, but you have a phone call. It’s urgent.” Logan nodded, grateful for the interruption, even if it came at the worst possible moment. “I’ll be right there.” Jean disappeared, and Logan turned back to Y/N, who was already gathering her things. Y/N avoided his gaze, her face a mask of confusion and regret.

“I should go,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. Logan watched as Y/N hurried to the door, her movements jerky and uncertain. He wanted to say something, to stop her, but the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he remained silent, his mind reeling from the near-miss encounter. As the door clicked shut behind her, Logan let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. What the hell had just happened? He knew he should feel guilty, ashamed even, but all he felt was a deep, aching need that refused to be ignored.

As he sat at his desk staring at the empty doorway, he realized that this was only the beginning.

[ivybucky]

lightning in a bottle - logan howlett x reader

mutant!reader nearly harms the team in a moment of panic and feels unable to deal with the aftermath, but logan is there to bring you back in more ways than one

a/n: i have so many ideas besties... currently have a list of 5 fic ideas and this is the first one I was able to flush out. here's some angst with happy ending for ya (no smut)

content: angst with happy ending, lots of electricity(literally), mentions of torture and screaming, mentions of mutant experimentation, implications of shitty birth family, confession of feelings, reader crying, sad reader, angry/sad logan

words: 2329

~~~~~

All you could think about was the lightning. 

You remember walking into the room, where the footage of your torture was displaying blatantly across the TV news cycle, the team sitting there and watching with rapt attention. “Mutant Experimentation Footage Leaked” scrolled across the screen. You remember the static tingling in your fingertips as you recognized what you were watching. Your own cries echoed from the speakers as footage of Stryker’s experimentation on you from a month prior when you had been captured is played to the nation. 

“Turn it off,” you had said quietly, pleadingly. The team’s gaze snaps to your silhouette in the door frame. Their eyes held sorrow, and something else that you did not want to see. 

“Y/N-” Storm had started to speak, but you wouldn’t have it. 

“Turn it off, now,” you’d said, clenched fists at your side as the panic began to swell, small flares of electricity flaring around your knuckles. Memories of the torture, the agony, the hatred came rushing back all at one and your eyes couldn’t leave the screen as it continuously replayed it. 

As the feeling heightening, electricity cracked in the air. Your eyes lit up, a bright purple gleam taking over. There was too much silence in the room, the sounds of your screams playing in a loop like a broken record as the news team played the footage over and over. Finally, someone broke it. “Y/N,” Logan had spoken up, an odd, unfamiliar tone in his voice. Good god, was that pity?

“What?” You had snapped, finally looking away from the footage and making eye contact with the team, with Logan, and you understood it wasn’t pity you heard in his voice, but a form of fear. Your anger slowly dissipated as you took in the state of the room - everyone in that room (who wasn’t bald) had hair floating up into the air, falling under the influence of the clouded electricity that filled the ceiling, just as one is before they get struck by lightning. 

And gods above you had almost struck them. 

Your fists fell lax at your sides, realization of the height of your emotions, the loss of control taking over your features. “I-” you stuttered, unsure how to apologize for the pain you nearly inflicted. “I-I’m sorry.”

For a moment, no one moved a muscle, no one said a word. It wasn’t the first time you had lost control, but it was the first time any of them were in danger because of it. Everyone stood like statues, watching you with bated breath, as if you were one nudge away from electrocuting the masses. You turned and fled the room, quickly striding back to your room to inevitably lock yourself in. It was the only place you felt like you could be and not hurt anyone.

Hours had passed since, but you couldn’t shake the look on their faces, the pure fright they showed, caused by you. Decidedly, that wouldn’t happen again - you wouldn’t allow it, in any capacity. Would they always fear you now? Could you manage to stay surrounded by people you loved, but knew there would always be a limit to how far their love for you went? Could you withstand the constant pins and needles your family would walk on around you, again?

It was that thought that had you hurriedly shuffling through your closet to find the duffle bag you had lugged over your shoulder when you were originally picked up by X-Men. It was crumbled into a wrinkled ball on the top shelf, thought to no longer have any use. 

You paced around the room, picking up the things you knew you couldn’t leave without. The students can go through my clothes, you thought with some sort of sad acceptance. Though, that didn’t keep you from packing some of the staples. The school logo printed on a t-shirt, an old sweatshirt that was singed from a fire fight in your first mission with the rest of the team, a stolen old flannel that smelt like smoke and whiskey-

“Where are you going, sweetheart?” You look up almost startled at Logan standing at the door to your bedroom, now cracked wide open. Logan… You’d nearly forgotten about the worst part - leaving him behind.

He leans against the door frame with a confused expression, arms crossed over his chest. You furrow your brows before turning back to the half-full duffle bag that sat on the foot of your bed. You knew you couldn’t look at him when you spoke again. 

“I’m leaving,” you nearly mutter and you stuff more clothes into the bag. You can feel your eyes getting hot, and try to take a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” he asks, his own brows furrowing. “Leaving for a mission?”

Your movements paused. You could tell the truth, but the reality was that he would try to stop you. And even if nothing had come out of the tension that hung between the two of you, you knew you would give in. 

“Yeah,” you swallowed as you lied. “Just a quick one, some intel gathering. I’m leaving sometime tomorrow morning.”

There was a brief pause, like Logan was trying to get a read on how truthful you were being. “Maybe I should come with you,” he says. “For backup, just in case.”

You clench your eyes shut - of course, he thought you needed to be accompanied. “I’ll be fine on my own,” your hands slow their movements as you place the last item in the bag, a gray zip up hoodie Logan had given you once. Were you saying that to reassure him, or yourself? You lied through your teeth like it was painful, as if the act of clenching your jaw so hard would break your bones and your will. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There was another pause, and you were sure he was going to call your bluff, but he just clicked his tongue. “Well alright,” he said gruffly, almost dejectedly. His hand fiddled with the door frame for a moment hesitantly. “You know that if you need-“

“I know,” you interrupted, turning to give him a tight smile. “I know.” He gave a saddened half smile before nodding and walking away. 

The space he once occupied at the door was empty now, but for a moment you stared at as if he was still there, as if he was still trying to comfort you even when he didn’t know how. 

An errant tear slipped from your eye and trailed down your face for a moment before you snapped back into reality, wiping the tear away quickly with the heel of your hand. You aggressively zipped up the bag and slung it over your shoulder, eager to leave before anyone, mainly Charles, got an idea of your plan. 

With the click of the front door, and the clap of a thunderstorm on the dark horizon, you were gone. 

As Logan left your room, he externally winced at his inability to provide comfort - to you of all fucking people - as if the non-action hurt him. The pain on your face seeped into the air and into his adamantium bones, as if it was transferable through the longing gazes and secretly honeyed words. 

He hung his head and he slowly walked further down the hall, a part of him hoping he would hear your door creak open and hear you call out his name. Instead, he was met with the faint sniffles of a teary nose that only his heightened hearing could pick up, a scuffle of fabric being shoved tightly into the duffle that was then harshly zipped shut with a shuddering sigh.

He turned the corner to retreat to his room before he could hear any more, deciding to join the mission the next morning anyways. 

The following morning, Logan made his way to Charles, unexpecting wanting to make his intentions to follow her known to someone. He entered the room, Charles already staring directly at him with a face one could only describe as similar to an omniscient god.

“Logan,” Charles spoke, somewhat resigned. “She doesn’t have a mission.”

Logan paused in his step with a furrowed brow. “What are you talking about? She said she was leaving this morning.”

“I did not give her one,” he confirms. “I have a feeling-”

Logan cut him off before the professor could continue. His jaw was clenched tight as he spoke the words. “She left.”

A tense silence took over the room, Charles watching Logan with a straight, yet dissecting gaze. Logan broke eye contact and looked away momentarily as he felt his heart sink to his stomach for the first time in decades. 

Finally, he looked back to Charles with a determined glare. “Where is she?”

The side of the professor’s mouth twitches up. 

—-

It only took two days for Logan to reach you. Charles was able to track your location easily as soon as he was asked. It took nothing for Logan to take the bike and peel out of the upstate town. Now, he stood in the rain staring at the shitty side-of-the-road motel with a simmering glare. 

His mind floated despondently in the air above him, completely unattached from his body as it stomped its way up the stairs and down the hall to your room. His fist banged on the door loudly, uncaring of its stability under his metal skeleton. His heightened exhaustion and emotions tethered him enough to not let his head fly too far away from him, but the reality was that he hadn’t slept since you left and the only words he spoke were to himself as he practiced what he would say to get you to return.

But then, the door swung open. His mind snapped back to his body as soon as he saw your face, but the pleas he had planned to beg left him just as quick. 

“You lied to me,” he growled, he accused, standing in the open door, his hands resting up on the door frame. The rain continued to pour just past the motel covering, evidence of its duration linger in the form of wet tracks down his leather jacket, the dampness of his hair, the drops that stuck to his face. 

“Logan-”

“You lied to me, Y/N,” he repeated, a new kind of angry heat simmering in his eyes. “You were not leaving for a mission.”

You take another deep breath. “‘M leaving for good,” you utter softly, your hands trembling slightly at the first out loud admission of what you had planned to do. You circled the back in the room, putting the cheap mattress in between you as some sort of barrier. The duffle bag he saw you packing days ago sat mockingly between you both. 

“Come on, what the fuck? ‘Leaving for good’?” He asks incredulously, taking a step forward and letting his arms drop to his sides. “You were going to leave the mansion, just like that?”

You stare at the duffle’s opening, having only reached that motel hours ago, not long enough to unpack the only remaining items you had. “I can’t stay, Logan,” you say softly, not moving to look at him. “No matter how careful I am, no matter how hard I try, I can’t control it, I can’t control me. Even Charles doesn’t know what to do with me, I-I had to leave, it’ll be better for everyone.”

“No,” he says defiantly, moving cautiously closer around the side of the bed. “Not everyone.”

The tears welled in your eyes at his words, unable to stop them from falling and you crossed your arms in front of you protectively, the tear-stained cuffs of the hoodie, his hoodie, pushed up your forearms. “Why are you here, Logan?”

“Why am I- are you stupid?” He scoffed, causing you to flinch at his harshness. “I’m here to bring you back. You’re not leaving the school, you’re not leaving me alone-”

“You don’t want me,” you cried, with tears streaming down your face as you shake your head. He can feel his heart break at the side of your distress. “None of you do. I nearly struck all of you the other day, just because I got emotional. I almost hurt you, and that’s the last thing you need, Logan.”

Logan quickly moves closer to stand in front of you and cups your cheeks, bringing your wet eyes to his. “Don’t you get it,” he says with a strained, rough voice. His thumbs sweep gently under your eyes to brush away the tears. “You are the only thing I need. Fuck everything and everyone else.”

Your hands come up to hold onto his wrist, keeping his hands exactly where they are on your face. “Logan-” you stutter as you search his eyes almost hopefully. “What are you saying?”

There’s a brief silence in between your soft sniffles and the sound of the rain on the other side of the motel door. When Logan speaks again, it is deliberate, and it’s what he wanted to say all along. “I’m saying I am nothing without you, sweetheart,” he urges, his thumb pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. “I was nothing before you, and I know that if you leave now, I’ll be nothing all over again. Not a single person in that school wants you to leave, me especially.”

You squeeze your eyes shut in time with the hopeful clenching of your heart, forcing tears out as you do so. You rest your forehead against Logan’s as he continues. “Please,” he nearly whispers, his nose bumping against yours. “Come home with me and turn nothing into something again.”

You nodded against him and spoke a wet “okay” before pressing your lips, finally, against his. And, just as you had predicted you would several nights ago, you gave in. 

_____

a/n: quickly posting this bc if i keep staring at it i'll never post it pls tell me how i did :D logan smut comin soon, pls like, comment, reblog

[bewiiitched]

INTRO:

Sex doll (chapter one)

Warnings: MINORS DON'T INTERACT, +18, mentions of rape, mutant powers as drugs, violence, alcoholism, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

///////

The next day, just as he had said, Wade practically drags her out of his apartment before she has a chance to speak.

— Let me go! I know what you’re planning!

She growled, backing up heavily as the mercenary pulled on her arm, so she tried to kick him only for him to catch her leg and kick her back, causing her to fall to the floor. Seeing an advantage, the young woman was quick to strengthen her grip, grabbing the wrist that held his arm and gaining stability before kicking him in the balls, earning a groan of pain that forced him to double over for a moment.

Having lost strength in her grip, she wasted no time in pulling on his arm and freeing his leg, using both to hit his shin as she pulled, causing him to lose his balance and fall on top of her.

“It’s not me you have to— you bitch!

He groaned in pain, pulling away the arm that had been bitten while dodging the fist that was headed towards his cheekbone. — right, right, I get it!

He exclaimed, under her warning gaze. One touch and he would be screaming in pain. And the mercenary seemed to be considering it given his malicious look.

— You know a kiss would have done the same, no need to bite, but if you like it rough...

He spoke in a suggestive tone, earning an innocent smile from the female, before she squeezed the arm that kept her against the ground and all gestures froze. Maintaining contact, she simply shook him off by wrapping her legs around his torso and turning her hips to the side.

— Shut the fuck up.

She growled, knowing that he was paralyzed thanks to her touch and spasms were beginning to haunt his body.

— A date. — She answered in an accusatory tone under the mercenary's fixed gaze. — Al told me, a double date, really? Forget it, I don't even know how he agreed.

Releasing her grip, the young woman smiled sarcastically because although she had freed her body so that she could move normally, she had stimulated her nerves in such a way that she couldn't get rid of the annoying itch for a while.

Seeing how it took effect and she dedicated a series of curses to him, Wade's gaze made her narrow her eyes in suspicion. — He doesn't even know.

— Well, it's easier to convince him if you're already there. You know, he's not very talkative.

— He never is.

— Your girlfriend has arrived.

Wolverine's voice takes them both by surprise, and they turn to look at him only to see him standing in the doorway, now open, of her apartment. Standing in his spot and observing the situation with a look that makes it clear he wants to stay out of it, the older man's lips curve into a smile as he watches the mercenary suffer in silence.

Judging by his appearance, it was clear that the mutant was heading somewhere, and Wade wasn't about to let it happen. — Hey, wait, wait, where are you going? I need support up there.

He spoke, causing Wolverine to raise an eyebrow, watching distractedly as Wade scratched his right arm until wounds began to appear that healed within a second. — Are you going to stop this? Give me a hand here!

He moaned, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling the itch all over his body and nowhere at the same time. Giving him an innocent smile, she shook her head, ignoring the knowing look Wade was throwing.

— Me? It seems like a matter of yours.

She answered in the same tone, as she saw Logan get up and their eyes connected for a second, making her turn around and grab a beer from the fridge only to realize there wasn't any.

— Wade. — She called in a soft voice, but with a murderous look. — Where is my beer?

— I needed it for yesterday's party, more people came than I imagined. And Logan? He's an alcoholic with guilt issues, you're made for each other!

Frowning, Logan looked at him with a glare. — He also took a tub of your ice cream.

— Hey!

Offended, he opened his mouth to reprimand him for the lack of companionship until out of the corner of his eye he caught reader approaching with a promising smile.

— Oops, that's my signal, it's not good manners to keep a lady waiting.

He muttered before rushing to the door, but not before pushing Logan inside the apartment and closing the door behind him. Offering an apologetic smile, she sighed. — I can barely stand his nonsense and I don't live with him, I don't know how you haven't killed him already.

— I killed him enough times during the mission. — He spoke, calming his gaze when he noticed her discomfort at his presence.

— You know, it seemed like you were going somewhere and I don't want to keep you, that idiot...

— Was planning a double date?

Her look must be comical, since Logan sketched a small smile. With a slight stutter she soon realizes that his enhanced senses are to blame and the she can't decide where to hide to escape the situation.

— Hell, apparently he had everything planned since I didn't go to dinner or so Al told me, he was talking to Peter about it! God, I-I didn't even know anything until today and obviously it's nonsense, he just doesn't know how to face Vanessa and makes an excuse, you're not even...

Her rant fades away when she notices the mutant's gaze on her, and involuntarily blushes with embarrassment as she realizes her nonsense. Under his scrutiny the she squirms nervously and Logan doesn't seem to want to break the silence as he analyzes her.

At first glance, the concern he had been able to notice in her for Wade had made him think that there could be something between them, so the mercenary's explanation at that moment had taken him by surprise, and from there the subject had cooled, if his version of that world had died as a hero, what had made him cross paths with a Weapon X participant?

— I don't know what he told you but...

Her voice is almost gone, not really knowing how to approach the subject, and at the same time, having believed that it was all forgotten. What was the point of all this if he wasn't her Logan? If she couldn't repair the damage she'd caused?

— Your scent is overwhelming— he growls, wrinkling his nose which makes him take a step back from the sensory overload.

— Well, mine only?

She realizes that the similarities between both variants are not few, and yet this Logan has a tired look that he hadn't seen in the original. A disdainful smile crosses the mutant's expression as he takes the hint and takes a few steps closer, taking a flask of alcohol out of his pocket. He barely used it, but it had become a habit to carry it when he had been forced to leave the bars of his world.

With a wry look, there is a look of understanding on her face as he turns to take out two glasses. — I'm not the best person to share alcohol with.

"Or saliva. »

She thinks with a grimace, as she pushes the glass in his direction, sliding it down the bar until it threatens to fall but the mutant grabs it in time, serving alcohol to both of them, she licks her lips thinking of what to say, she stops with a light laugh, the whole situation is ridiculous.

— You're not even him, you have to think I'm crazy.

She murmured, taking a seat behind the counter of her kitchen. Then she begins: — During my period in Weapon X, I was in charge of keeping the rest of the mutants in line, supervising the safety of the staff while they carried out the experiments.

She pauses to take a drink, and her expression turns sour at the memories that form in her mind. — Other times, it was to test their limits, punish them or make them more docile.

She can see the mutant's gears turning to understand the situation, and he opens his mouth with a cautious expression. — Did Mouth say something about fluids...?

— Aphrodisiacs? Yeah, fuck him.

Her voice is filled with disgust.— My power is... I usually explain it like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It's in my blood, saliva, in my tears, etc. It needs to get into the person's system in order to control their nerves. However, that's not the danger.

She rolls her eyes, taking another drink, longer than the last. — Once it's in the person's system, the person loses their mind from lust, it's a piece of cake to get information. — She whisper, watching him refill her glass in silence.

— Wade wasn't lying when he told you. When they realized that my use was another, they put me as a spy or a mere distraction.

There's a resignation in her tone, which makes him tilt his head, remembering the mercenary's words about how Vanessa and she seemed to have a pretty close relationship. And yet, a look of disgust crosses his face at the idea that she had dedicated herself to espionage.

— Did you join the X-Men?

He ask, there is a slight accusation in his voice, and is huskier than usual, however, she raised her eyebrows, letting herself lean on the back of the chair. — Do you think they would have accepted me?

She smirks mockingly, staring at her empty glass while her hand rests on her chin. — It was a one night stand and I almost die.

Her discomfort in talking about it makes it clear that it's about him, or rather the other Logan. However, the mention of his near death makes Logan look at her, catching longing on her face.

— I had started to rebel after the last missions, well. — She stops, with a sneer on her face. — To be fair, since they had ordered me to spy. They sent me on a suicide mission to test your limits, not even getting information out of you, there was nothing that could interest them beyond whether you could be incapacitated. If you could be, it would mean that we could keep Wade under control. But Ajax had been ordered to kill him.

Wade's words make sense and Logan's gaze darkens. — You...?

He is immediately interrupted by the her expression, his nose catching her scent as she downplays the matter with a gesture of her hand. — At all costs. —

— You didn't want to.

— No one did.

[winxanity-ii]

UNCONVENTIONAL ALLIES

ship: deadpool!gojo x fem!mutant!reader x wolverine!geto warnings: non-explicit word count: 3.3k a/n: Writing this was so much fun! I just love blending different worlds and seeing what kind of chaos unfolds 😂. Hope you enjoy this wild ride! 💖

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You were sitting at a dingy, neon-lit bar tucked away in a forgotten corner of the city.

The place smelled of stale beer, fried food, and something musty that clung to the faded upholstery of the worn-out bar stools.

A jukebox in the corner plays a muffled tune, the kind that barely competes with the low hum of conversation and the occasional clatter of pool balls.

The air was thick, not just with the haze of cigarette smoke but with the weight of a thousand stories that had soaked into the cracked wooden walls over the years.

You were hunched over a dog-eared copy of your Anatomy & Physiology textbook, muttering terms under your breath like some sort of desperate mantra—brachialis, trapezius, sternocleidomastoid—trying to cram as much information as you could before your brain decided it's had enough.

You had read the same sentence three times now, and each time the words made less sense than before. Frustration bubbled up in your chest.

With a heavy sigh, you sat back and threw your head back against the creaky barstool, feeling the weight of everything crashing down on you at once.

The looming specter of your upcoming exam was like a shadow over your thoughts, a constant reminder of how much was riding on you passing this class.

Your mind raced, not just with the material you were supposed to be studying, but with the overwhelming tide of stress that came from being swamped in thousands upon thousands of dollars in student loans.

Every page you turned felt like another reminder of just how deep you were in. And as if that wasn't enough, the thought of returning to your messy, noisy dorm made you groan inwardly.

Your roommate had been a nightmare lately—blasting music at odd hours, leaving her stuff everywhere, and treating the place like her personal dumping ground. It was impossible to find peace, and it was driving you insane.

You reached over for your drink—a grapefruit High Noon, the only small comfort you had allowed yourself tonight. The cold, fizzy liquid was a slight balm against the headache building behind your eyes.

You took a long sip, letting the bitterness wash over your tongue as you tried to drown out the noise around you and the noise in your head.

Just as you were about to return to the same sentence you had been trying to absorb for the last ten minutes, you noticed movement at the far end of the bar. Two guys slipped in, almost unnoticed, except for the way they carried themselves—like they weren't just walking into a bar, but onto a stage.

One was wearing a skintight red and black suit that clung to his lean, muscular frame, showcasing his agility and strength. The suit had a dark, almost tactical look, with black patches accentuating the deep red fabric. It was all about practicality and style, with twin katanas strapped to his back in a sleek 'X' formation, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

His mask was a full-head covering, stretching tightly over every contour, leaving no part of his face nor hair exposed. The eye areas were reinforced with black outlines, creating a stark contrast against the red, giving the impression of expressive eyes even though they were hidden.

Overall, he looked like he was dressed for battle, but even then, there was a playfulness in his stance, like he was just waiting for the fun to start.

The other guy was in all black. His outfit fully leather, tough but flexible, perfect for someone who needed to move fast and hit hard. It was sleek, with subtle detailing that caught the light when he shifted. Over his eyes, he wore a sharp mask, a slim black visor that added to his already intimidating presence. His long black hair is tied back into a neat bun at the back of his head, adding a touch of elegance to his otherwise rugged appearance. His hands were gloved, with a weird alteration that freed his knuckles on up.

The whole look was one of power and precision, every inch of him screaming danger, but in a way that was somehow... controlled. Like he was the kind of guy who didn't make idle threats.

Together, they were an odd pair—one dressed like he was ready for a chaotic spree, the other like he was here to end a war. And yet, there was a strange harmony between them, like they had been through this dance a hundred times before.

"What's with these two?" you muttered under your breath with a snort, flipping a page in your textbook without really seeing it. "Comic-Con isn't for another month."

The two men walked further into the bar, their steps measured and purposeful. A few patrons glanced their way, curiosity flickering in their eyes for a moment before they turned back to their drinks and quiet conversations, uninterested in the newcomers.

You silently watched from your tucked-away spot, noting how out of place they looked against the bar's grimy, dimly lit backdrop.

They made their way to the bar, their movements fluid yet distinct—one with a swagger that screamed "look at me," the other moving like a shadow, quiet and precise.

Thinking this was the end of it, you forced yourself to refocus on your textbook, trying to absorb the intricate connection of human muscles that had been eluding you all night.

Just as you started to get a grip on the complex anatomy, two shadows fell over your book, fully obscuring what little light the dim bar offered.

You sucked your teeth with an annoyed "tch," glaring up, ready to tell off whichever group of men thought they'd get lucky tonight. But your words got caught in your throat when you realized who was standing before you—the two men from earlier.

The one in red, who now sat in the seat next to you, had a vibrant galaxy cocktail in hand, stirring it with a straw like he had all the time in the world.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the surreal scene, but quickly got back on track. With a disinterested, sarcastic tone, you asked, "What could I possibly help you two gentlemen with?"

The man in black opened his mouth to speak, but the one in red jumped in. "Oh, there's a lot you could help us with! Cooking, lending us some cash, maybe even—"

"Deadpool," the one in black interrupted, his tone flat but carrying a note of irritation.

The man in red's head snapped towards him. "Huh? What's up?"

The one in black groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose with clear exasperation. He turned to you, his demeanor shifting to something almost apologetic. "We don't mean to interrupt your evening, but we're looking for 'Y/N.' We've asked around and heard that she often frequents this bar."

For a moment, you just sat there, heart pounding in your chest. Your mind was racing, but outwardly, you kept your expression cool and passive.

You tilted your head and nodded realistically, pretending to be unfazed. "Oh, Y/N? She's my roommate. We come here sometimes to study for our exams, but she flaked on me tonight. Guess she got caught up," You paused, then asked casually, "What do you need from her? I can pass along a message if you'd like."

The two men exchanged a glance, and the one in red burst out with a long, drawn-out "Wow, you're good!" He turned to his companion, still twirling his straw in his drink. "Bro, if we didn't have a pic, I'd 100% believe her," he said, holding both hands up in mock surrender.

You froze, your breath hitching in your throat. Your mind raced, a thousand thoughts per second.

Before you could think of a way to escape or talk your way out, the man in red turned back to you. "Look, toots, I'll be honest—we need you. Now, I understand how scary this may be, two men coming in and searching for little ol' you, but you have no worries, I promise."

The man in black spoke up, his tone more measured. "Yes, like he said, we're not here to harm you. We just—"

His friend cut him off, leaning in closer. "You want to trust us? Look," he said, before abruptly reaching up and pulling off his mask. "Bam! Face reveal!"

Underneath the mask, his features were striking: bright blue eyes that practically glowed in the dim light of the bar, and a handsome face with sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline. His hair was cut short in a buzzcut, white as freshly fallen snow, adding a stark contrast to the dim, smoky atmosphere around him.

His skin was marked with faint burn scars, lines and patches that wove across his face like a map of past battles and close calls. Yet, these scars didn't detract from his appearance; they only added to his rugged, mysterious allure, hinting at the untold stories and experiences that lay beneath the surface.

The one in black sputtered, "D-Deadpool, what the fu—"

"You can stop with the code names, Geto," the man in said with a smirk. "We gotta get her to trust us."

The one in black—Geto—groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose again in frustration. "At my expense, though?"

Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly, leaning on his hands and tilting his head down to take a sip from his drink. "Why wouldn't I? You expect me to call you 'Wolverine' all night yet we know her name? I wouldn't trust us either."

Geto groans again, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Again with the 'trust us' bullshit. That still doesn't give a good reason why you revealed my fucking name and not your own.”

Deadpool just lets out a giggle, shrugging again with a carefree grin. "Oops?"

Geto stared at him blankly for a moment before bluntly stating, "Fuck you, Gojo Satoru."

Satoru's mouth dropped open in mock shock. "W-Wha… why… my entire government name, bro??? Even the damn Japanese format??? It was just a last name, you're acting like I said Geto Suguru..."

Suguru just ignored his outburst, turning his attention back to you, his expression serious once more. "Now, as I was saying, we've been searching for you."

You blinked, snapping yourself out of the mini-panic swirling in your mind, now acutely aware of the two men surrounding you—Satoru sitting casually beside you and Suguru standing in front of you with a more guarded stance.

"And why would that be?" you asked cautiously, trying to mask the nervous energy coursing through you.

Satoru, never one to let a moment of tension linger, cut in with a playful grin. "Because our jobs tend to get really messy, and we need a pair of healing hands for quicker recovery times. Besides, something's telling me you might be up for a little adventure."

You raised an eyebrow and snorted, unimpressed by his casual tone. "And why would I want to do that?"

Suguru finally spoke up, his voice gravelly and weighted with a seriousness that cut through Satoru's playful demeanor. "You look knowledgeable in the medical field," he said plainly. "And like Satoru said, our line of work tends to need that kind of expertise."

Before you could even think of a response, Satoru umped back in, his grin widening even more. "Plus, we've got a feeling you'd make a great addition to our little team. It's not every day you find a cute healer; most tend to be old crones."

And there it was. The mention of your healing powers.

You're not sure how, but it seemed like no matter where you went, that knowledge always managed to catch up with you.

Being a mutant wasn't something you advertised; it wasn't something you wore on your sleeve. Especially not in a world where the line between acceptance and fear was still razor-thin, where prejudice against mutants ran deep.

You'd learned early on to keep your abilities under wraps.

The hate and mistrust toward mutants had only grown more intense over the years, with some humans seeing you as a threat rather than a person.

Sure, there were heroes and vigilante groups like the X-Men who fought for mutant rights and tried to prove that mutants could be protectors, not dangers. But still, the divide remained. A silent, persistent wall between those who could heal and those who only knew how to fear.

It wasn't just about staying safe. It was about maintaining some semblance of a normal life, of blending in.

The last thing you needed was to be dragged into the chaos of someone else's fight, to be seen as a tool rather than a person. Yet here you were, once again, your secret laid bare before these strangers who seemed to know more about you than you were comfortable with.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your expression neutral, ready to tell them you had absolutely no interest in whatever scheme they were trying to pull you into. But before the words left your mouth, the door to the bar slammed open, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot.

A group of burly men stormed in, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone present. The leader—a rough-looking guy with a missing hand, which was poorly wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage—scanned the room with a snarl until his eyes landed on Satoru.

His face contorted into a scowl as he pointed his bleeding nub directly in your direction. "That's them!" he growled, his voice filled with fury. "Get those bastards!"

Before you could even react, the men charged forward, but Satoru's grin only grew wider, like he had been waiting for this exact moment. Suddenly, he threw a hand up, shouting, "Wait!"

The men paused, looking confused, their momentum halted by the unexpected command.

Satoru stood up slowly, the corners of his mouth curling into a mischievous smirk as he loudly slurped down the rest of his cocktail.

He released an exaggerated "Ahhh" of satisfaction, savoring the last drop before shoving his mask back on with a quick flick of his wrist. He turned to the men with a gleeful expression and said, "Okay, I'm ready, boys~."

Without missing a beat, he launched himself into the fray.

The bar erupted into chaos.

Satoru moved like a blur, dodging a punch with a fluid twist of his body, then delivering a quick jab to his attacker’s gut.

It was almost like a dance, his movements graceful yet deadly.

He ducked under a swing, flipped over a table with the ease of a seasoned acrobat, and landed a perfectly timed kick that sent one guy crashing into the jukebox, which sputtered and then blasted out distorted music. "Nice try, but you're gonna have to do better than that!" he quipped, his voice filled with that unmistakable humor.

Suguru was a stark contrast. All raw power and precision, he grabbed one of the men by the collar and slammed him into the nearest wall.

The impact left a dent in the plaster, and the guy crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Suguru didn't waste a single movement—every punch, every kick was delivered with a calculated brutality meant to incapacitate. "Stay down, monkey," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous, as he drove a knee into another attacker's stomach, sending him reeling backward into a table, which collapsed under the weight.

As the fight intensified, bar patrons started scrambling for the exit, knocking over chairs and tables in their haste to escape.

The bartender, a burly man with a grizzled beard, stepped out from behind the bar, shouting above the noise. "Hey! You're gonna pay for this mess! Take your fight outside, or I'll—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the leader with the missing hand growled in frustration. "Shut up!" He grabbed a glass from the bar with his good hand and hurled it at the bartender, the glass shattering against his skull.

The bartender stumbled back, eyes wide with shock, before collapsing behind the counter, blood pooling around his head.

The violence seemed to escalate, everything becoming a blur of fists, broken glass, and shouts.

A chair flew across the room, smashing into the wall near where you were crouched, and you instinctively threw up your arms to shield yourself from the splinters. Heart racing, you knew you had to get out, but the chaos was overwhelming.

One of the attackers swung a metal pipe at Satoru, who effortlessly sidestepped and countered with a spinning kick that knocked the man off his feet and sent him sliding across the bar’s sticky floor. "You guys really know how to make a guy feel special~" Satoru laughed, eyes alight with adrenaline.

Wide-eyed, you stuttered, "H-Holy shit," as your flight set in. Hastily, you tried to pack up all your things, shoving books and papers into your backpack with trembling hands.

Just as you threw the bag over your shoulders and turned to make a run for it, a rough hand reached out and grabbed your puffed ponytail in a tight grip.

"Where do ya think you're going, girly? Leavin' your crew so soon?" a gruff voice sneered.

You looked up to find one of the thugs grinning down at you with a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

Desperation bubbled up as you blubbered, "L-Look, I have nothing to do with this, I swear! I'm just a struggling college student!" You weakly rubbed your hands together, hoping to somehow appeal to his sense of mercy—if he even had one.

The man let out a wet cackle, but just as dread washed over you and you thought your life was about to end, his eyes widened in shock. An arm had looped around his neck from behind, pulling him back with surprising strength.

It was Suguru.

"That's no way to treat a lady, now is it?" he growled into the man's ear, his voice low and dangerous.

With his free hand, Suguru shot his arm out, and you watched in stunned silence as three sharp metal claws extended from between his knuckles with a sharp "snikt."

In one swift motion, Suguru slashed upward, driving the claws through the man's head with a sickening gurgle. His movements were methodical, almost surgical—each strike designed not just to disable, but to finish his opponent swiftly and efficiently.

"This is getting messy," he muttered, casting a quick glance your way. "Stay low and keep your head down."

A small splatter of fresh blood dotted your face, hot and sticky. Too shocked to speak, you could only nod wordlessly, your heart hammering in your chest.

A flash of metal cut through the dim light as Suguru disarmed another attacker, the weapon clattering to the ground.

The jukebox, now playing a scratchy rendition of an old rock song, suddenly exploded into sparks as another attacker was thrown against it, his weight too much for the old machine to bear.

The smell of burning circuitry filled the air, mixing with the scent of spilled alcohol and the coppery tang of blood.

Just as you thought things couldn't get any worse, the leader of the group grabbed a table leg and charged at Suguru with a wild roar. He swung the makeshift club with all his might, but Suguru sidestepped, letting the momentum carry the leader past him.

Suguru turned and delivered a punishing elbow to the back of the leader’s neck, sending him crashing to the ground.

With a few men down, Satoru turned to you, his eyes sparkling with amusement despite the chaos. "Looks like you're coming with us, whether you like it or not," he teased, and before you could argue, he rushed over, scooping you up over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing. "Hang on tight, princess!"

You began shouting, "Wait—what!? You can't be serious!!" just as your world flipped upside down in an instant.

Satoru's grip was surprisingly firm, and you were jostled around like a ragdoll as he darted through the chaos of the bar, cackling like a madman. Chairs and debris flew past, and you clutched onto him, trying not to lose your dinner.

Suguru, maintaining his composure amidst the chaos, bent down to grab your bag and textbooks. He gave you an apologetic glance, his expression almost soft despite the situation. "Sorry about this," he said, his voice calm amidst the madness.

The three of you burst through the bar's front door and into the cool night air.

The sharp contrast between the smoky, dim interior of the bar and the crisp, open night sky made everything feel surreal, like you had stepped out of one world and into another.

Satoru's laughter echoed in your ears, wild and free, mingling with the distant sounds of the ongoing brawl behind you. "Trust me," he shouted over his shoulder, not slowing his pace even a little, "we're gonna have a lot of fun!"

As Satoru sprinted down the street, weaving through narrow alleys with you still slung over his shoulder, you let out a small, incredulous laugh.

It was half at the absurdity of the situation and half at the exhilarating sense of liberation coursing through you.

Because at the end of it all, against all odds...

...he might just be right.

A/N: hi guys! just wanted to post this after watching the new deadpool wolverine movie and binging on SatoSugu x reader fics, so hope this wasn't a too bad of a read; not sure if i'll actually do more of this or not 😩also, sorry for being gone for so long, finally dug myself up out of my lil ball of anger/sadness. now that i'm back at the dorm, i hope to bring you guys more of the lil delusions i have swimming about ❤️❤️

[flowersforbucky]

worst!logan x mutant!reader with emotional regulation and healing abilities coming this friday 💕 as long as i can get it finished up before i leave for a 5 day trip to new orleans on thursday morning

it's currently about 4.2k words and i think i'm over halfway at this point so hopefully i'll have it finished by the middle of the week

[inkblot-inc]

Cruisin' For A Bruisin'

Summary: The crew is on a much needed (and definitely deserved) vacation from hero-ing about. It's important to remember that you can plan out a trip, but you can't anticipate everything that happens on said trip.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mutant!TigerShark!Reader

[AU Masterlist] Arc 2: This is Part 1

Warning(s): This one's pretty wholesome for the most part, but I will say there are some descriptions of violence. Also strong language, but if you've been here long enough you know that-

Note(s): WELCOME TO ARC 2 BAYBEE! Jaws is back and I could not be any more excited to get back into this shit! As far as I can tell arc 2 is definitely gonna be longer than arc 1, but I hope y'all enjoy :3

Word Count: Skidding pass 2.9k

*squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit!

It'd been a little over a year since you'd joined the Avengers. There were certainly a few incidents here and there, the biggest being the dismantling of the Red Room which, incidentally, led to Natasha reuniting with her folks.

It was certainly one way to meet your girlfriend's family, that's for sure...

Things seemed to finally take time to settle, at least for a little while.

It was newly June and you along with Natasha, Wanda, and Vision were set to go on the cruise trip you'd booked around Christmas time last year.

---

"How were you able to swing two months off mission calls, babe?" You looked up from packing your suitcase at Natasha's voice, a small smirk growing on your face.

You made your way over to Natasha before wrapping your arms around her waist. "Well, I'm still not greenlit to go out in the field for a slew of reasons, Wanda's only put on for specific assignments, Vision's her plus one, and you have, what? Three years' worth of PTO? We're in the clear, Natty. The team will be fine for a month or two."

Natasha let out a hum of agreement before she brought you closer for a kiss. "That- and you harassed Tony to figure it out."

You raised a brow in mock confusion, "I thought that part was obvious." Your mouth pulled into a genuine gleaming smile as you got a laugh out of Natasha as she wrapped her own arms around your neck. "You're a menace."

"Is that meant to be a bad thing?" Your lips met in another kiss.

"Never a bad thing."

As the two of you finished packing, you met up with Wanda in the Common Room of the compound, where she was talking with Vision. The atmosphere was sullen with only one set of bags on the couch.

"What's goin' on? Did they not have SPF50 at the Walgreens?" You set yours and Natasha's bags down before going to get the keys to the Quinjet. "I'm sure we could find robo-sunscreen on the way, man."

Vision looked at the back of his hand for a good second. "I don't think I would need protection from the sun, seeing as my skin is-"

You came and wrapped your arm around the synthezoid's neck, jangling the jet keys by his ear. "Joking! Again. If anything, we'll just cook eggs on you when you overheat like a copper pan. We aren't gonna be on an air-conditioned boat the whole time you know." And just like that, the light atmosphere you'd created sunk back down as Wanda and Vision looked at each other. You looked between the two in clear confusion, "Alright, what's the deal?"

Vision eyed Wanda for a bit longer before turning to look at you and Natasha, who just came into the room. "I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany the three of you on this vacation. I will be remaining on call."

You tossed the Quinjet keys to Natasha as she came further into the room. "That's ridiculous, we all sent in time off notices weeks before now. How'd this even come about?"

Vision let out a sigh, "Captain Rogers came to me with concerns of being understaffed during the next few months with the search for HYDRA operatives still ongoing; With Dr. Banner still off-world, Mr. Barton indisposed with his with his family, and Mr. Stark only expected half of the time, it is rather easy for me to see Captain Rogers' point. Out of the four of us approved for time off, it was determined that I would be the one to stay behind in case of emergency."

---

You'd spent the cruise enjoying each stop between Hawaii and French Polynesia, and it's been anything but a normal experience with you around as the agent of chaos.

Wanda made sure to get plenty of pictures to cement the new memories. There's photos of you "hugging" a manta ray, Wanda and Natasha relaxing on the beach in Bora Bora, several pictures at dinner, and even one of all three of you having an absolute ball watching one of the night shows in Samoa.

Your most recent picture was a group one after you laid on a blowhole in Savai'i. You almost gave the nearby family of five a heart attack, but it was still fun to do.

The last two weeks have been a welcome break for the three of you. Despite some of your more "peculiar" ways of having fun, this has been a freeing and relaxing time. No missions, no threats; a true vacation.

Wanda was currently in her cabin across the hall from yours and Natasha's on her nightly call with Vision. Next time he had to come, Steve be damned. Wanda was a good sport about it when Vision was called in at the last minute, but you all wished he was here as well.

Natasha had taken to video calling with Yelena as well, though they weren't as frequent with her being on her own mission.

You had your own time to talk with Yelena that mainly consisted of her cosigning whatever fuckery you were up to on your vacation.

Part of it might be just to get a reaction out of Natasha.....Which she always did-

It was wonderful to see Natasha just unwound and be less serious, Yelena is one of those people that just pulls it out of her.

Their Relationship had noticeably improved since they were brought back together last year, after learning more about each other that they hadn't had the privilege to learn before, having been separated for their most formative years.

-----

You and Natasha sat on the secluded deck connected to your cabin. The open air was refreshing as you let Natasha lean back into your arms, watching the sunset on the water.

"I'll be honest and say that I can't choose between Tahiti or Savai'i,"

You placed your head on top of Natasha's. "It's always going to be Enoka for me. It was so long ago, but can remember the views on the island as clear as day." Your words were less clear, almost like you were talking through your teeth. "The white sand beaches occupied by damn near everyone in the mornings, green peaks covered in flowers, the quiet that surrounded the deep waters at night... Seeing the sun make everything above me glimmer while it was up high in the sky. Those small "nothing" memories are one of the few things I haven't lost to time... I just wish I had pictures to show it to you."

Natasha slowly rubbed your forearm that was across her stomach as she encouraged your rare moment of open vulnerability. "Well that's why we're doing this. Making new memories closer to home..."

You focused on the soothing gesture as you thought of those same flickering pictures taken through a toddling interpretation.

In the morning you, Natasha, and Wanda were going to part from the cruise ship and make your way to where Enoka would be via a smaller, personal yacht (paid for by you, modified by Tony, who was convinced to do so by Pepper).

There's nothing that could ruin this moment for you. With two of your favorite people by your side, you were going to visit what's no more than a watery lump of land that once was your home and put it to rest for good.

-----

After leaving the cruise ship, Wanda focused on directing the three of you through the smaller crowds of people walking in the opposite direction away from the docks. "What's this boat called again? Delilah?"

Natasha unfolded the small piece of paper in her hand to reread the messy script, "The Blue Delilah. It should be near the end of the pier."

You grasped one of their wrists in each hand, "It's just up ahead!" Both Wanda and Natasha cringed slightly as you just barely missed bulldozing a group of people on your way to the boat that turned out to be a custom Sunseeker 76 yacht.

before the three of you boarded the yacht, a brown-haired man wearing thin rectangular glasses came up to the three of you with a gleam in his eyes. Your eyes narrowed at the camera in his hand before he even started speaking. "I'm really sorry to bother the three of you, but you're Avengers, right?"

You just blankly stared at the man while Natasha, while also on guard, she was more cordial when she addressed the man. "We're not exactly on duty right now, but did you want something?"

Wanda noticed that there was a dark haired woman not too far behind him simply staring at the yacht before looking toward the three of you. The bespectacled man, who began perspiring the longer you stared him down, jumped to answer. "I just wanted to get a picture with you guys, my wife and I are really grateful that you all are around to protect us."

The three of you looked at each other. While all of you weren't keen on taking pictures, the couple seemed harmless enough, Wanda read as much from both of their thoughts. The man, Graydon, was both nervous and excited; worried that he'd come off as a creep that was bothering them. His wife, Tara, had a similar train of thought in not wanting to bother the three public. Tara's mind was notably much quieter than her husband's; presumably the result of a calming tactic.

Wanda mentally relayed this to both you and Natasha before the three of you finished wordlessly discussing the matter. With Natasha nodding, Wanda spoke to the couple. "One picture wouldn't hurt."

Graydon's face lit up as he gestured for his wife to come closer, essentially saying they were in the clear. Tara came to stand on the other side of Wanda while Graydon went to find a passerby to take the picture on his camera. After he showed a willing older man how to snap the photo, he stood on the right of Natasha with a rather dorky thumbs up.

You left your mask on, put you arms over Natasha's and Wanda's shoulders and squinted your eyes a bit to give the illusion of a more positive emotion on your face as the brief flash irritated your eyes.

After the picture was taken, Graydon rushed over to the volunteer cameraman to see how it came out. Tara turned to Wanda with a small smile as she exited her personal space after a small shaking of hands. " Thank you for indulging us, and it really is a pleasure to meet you, Misty Red."

Wanda watched the dark-haired woman walk away in confusion. "Misty Red? Who's that?" Natasha raised a single brow while all you did was laugh at Wanda's expense.

Natasha's confusion didn't last long with her own deduction skills. "Apparently that's what the people are calling you," a slow smirk made it's way to Natasha's lips as you were still laughing, "I mean, it does makes sense." The redhead was the first to turn and make her way toward the ramp of the yacht.

"I can't decide if they made you sound like a wrestler or a porn star! I just-" You broke another bout of laughter.

Wanda's eyes narrowed at your juvenile line of thought as she crossed her arms. "It isn't even that funny, Jaws. You're just milking it at this point,"

You took a second to recover from your laughter, "It's funny to me. You don't gotta get it cuz I think it's funny. There's no shame in what you do, Wandy."

Natasha rose her shoulders as she continued to make her way onto the boat. "That's just what happens when you let the public name you."

Wanda almost felt the need to defend her lack of an alias, "I didn't think it had to be very high on my list of priorities!"

You lightly pushed the brunette forward and up the ramp to The Blue Delilah. "Uh huh, get on the boat, Misty Red."

---

When You, Natasha, and Wanda all made it onto The Blue Delilah, a smaller inconspicuous boat pulled off behind it at the same time, noticing that the yacht had a discreet Stark Industries logo. Their plan isn't clear at the moment, but it is clear that they're tailing The Blue Delilah. They follow a long way behind, but have their own tracker placed on the ship so they don't lose the yacht.

The three of you were on the private yacht for about four days so far travelling to Enoka.

Note: All citizens of Enoka have the location of Enoka ingrained in their brains, so Jaws always knows where it is. This is a similar practice for the inhabitants of a certain other living island...

As you got closer to the island, it was clear that it's not completely submerged, but it definitely looks different to how you remember.

The goal now was to see if there were any inhabitants on the island that were still alive and who survived the flood over a decade ago.

You didn't voice it, but there was a new sense of anxiousness and hope that started brewing in you at the prospect of going home.

Maybe there actually was a "home" there left...

-----

About a day out from the Island, the engine to The Blue Delilah seemed to stutter, so you went to check it out and before you reach the engine room on the back pad, you noticed large ripples from something that dove back into the water.

Soon after you heard sounds of a struggle on the yacht and booked it back to where Wanda and Natasha were.

There were two attackers engaged in fighting with the two women, four were on the floor unconscious already. It's rather bold for a group of six, well seven.

Jaws grabbed the arm of the seventh attacker that tried to sneak up on them and threw them over their shoulder.

The attacker you were dealing with was a woman and she had armor that stood out a bit more than the others; she had less of it, toned brown skin shown through the large gaps between the armor pieces, and the shoulders were a bit more prickly and menacing in comparison.

'Definitely their leader.'

You raised an eyebrow at the sort of reptilian bone mask obscuring most of the woman's face. "What, were you too good for Bleach?"

You can see the woman visibly squint behind her mask before she grabs two daggers from their place on her hips, "I know fuckin' Kisame isn't talkin' about me, "

Your own eyes narrowed at her retort. 'Well fuck you, too.'

With both of you having been insulted by the other, the two of you rushed each other. The two of you were essentially going blow for blow for a while before you knocked the bone mask off of your attacker's face.

It revealed more dusky brown skin, a few scars on her face and a tattoo of some kind under her right eye. The woman turned to face you fully, wiping blood off the corner of her lip. "You might be one of the more skilled pirates I've come across. It's a shame I consider your life past tense already."

Suddenly, the woman then tackled you off the yacht, knocking your breathing apparatus off in the process, hoping to hold you down and drown you herself. Her daggers reaching to slice at your now exposed neck.

Putting her knife up to your neck, she then notices the gills on each side of it, which throws her off.

It's then, underwater, that she gets a good look at you before her eyes widen considerably, confusing you.

"Y/n, is that really you?"

There's that name, your name. Hardly anyone called you by your given name when you were little, and you hardly cared, but...

"Ys tath uyo, Y/n?"

Your own eyes widen at the familiar language coming from this woman's mouth. Only one person would really insist on using it back then...

"Sienna?"

And with that one word, the woman threw her daggers to the side leaving them to float in the water away from the two of you before tightly wrapping her arms around your neck. You hug her back just so.

After the two of you pulled away, she almost immediately slapped you with a new fire in her molten brown eyes.

"Agh shit! Did you grow talons?!" It wasn't hard enough to actually hurt, but you definitely felt the woman's nails drag across your face.

"Ehrwe ni eth FUCK veah uyo eneb?! Y thugoth uy' DDEA lla heste rayse!"

Sienna went to smack you again before you held both of her wrists in your hands to keep her at bay, your eyebrows furrowed. "Y itd'dn eyrall cieded ot velae, ni cesa uy' omowesh trogof!"

Sienna shook her head as she struggled to get free of your grip, her dark locs waving wildly in under the water. "Elt og of 'em! Y vat'ehn retnotfog shit!" Sienna then began to try and kick at you to let her go, so you brought her into another hug as she resisted.

Her attempts grew more and more feeble as the power behind her punches to your chest fizzled out. It was only then that you realized she was crying.

Sienna's voice was raw and heavy with emotion, "Ehrwe ddi uyo og?! Y odloke nad Y odloke nad Y odloke lla rove rof uyo..."

You let her sob into your chest as you held her, floating in the underwater quiet.

"Y'm ghrit ehre, sersit."

** footnote: I wanted to use a completely different script for the Enokan language being spoken, but I couldn't find a way to import it so that it was shown, so instead I made a simple code using typoglycemia (aka just unscramble the letters of each word). To make it so that it didn't look as clunky, I sometimes replaced (i) with (y). Some words that end with vowels may have an apostrophe that takes the place of the vowel. Apostrophes can also be found at the beginning of words with vowels for fluidity's sake. I didn't think swears should be scrambled cuz that just *looks* off to me. The point of these changes is to have this resemble a spoken language more than it is a blatant tactic to confuse you.

Here's a word unscrambler in case you need it

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Join us, please?

X-Men fanfic

wc: 5.3 K summary: Charles tries to get you into his school warnings: platonic story! telekinesis!reader, reader has anxiety, stalking but it's not actual stalking, one swear word, use of weed a/n: it started out as a drabble idea, now I'm unsure if I'll ever continue writing for this. (this came out more as a crackfic) Have fun reading, I'd be happy for some feedback!!

Sitting at a bar on a saturday wasn‘t really something you do regurarly, but this is a special occasion. Or rather more of a pathetic attempt to run away from your problems and forget about everything that happened in the last two days. The bitter taste of your pint makes you scrunch up your face a little, but you soon get used to it, and are now trying to drain everything out. Maybe, if you wouldn‘t work at a shitty fast food restaurant and had a normal boss, you wouldn‘t be here. Maybe then, you wouldn‘t think your life is a mess and you wouldn‘t be sulking here by your own pitiful, depressed ass.

The pain in your palms isn‘t doing you any favours, especially since you feel weaker than usual today. You knew using your powers more frequently would lead up to you hurting, but it‘s not like you could neglect your teleknesis. You don‘t want to forget how it works, so you decided to try it out yesterday again. If only you would‘ve kept track of the time, you wouldn‘t be cooling your hands against the glass of beer at the moment.

Right as you are taking another sip, a young man sits beside you, wearing a warm smile on his face. Before you could say something or think more about this, he speaks up.

»Good evening, my name‘s Charles. All alone today?«

God, he speaks like a rich man. Is he a rich man? Maybe you can get rich tonight and finally quit your job.

»Uh, yeah. All alone.«

He keeps smiling lightly at you, a rather awkward silence falling over you both. Finally, your intoxicated brain catches up, realising you haven‘t introduced yourself yet. With a quick apology, you tell him your name and grow sheepish.

»It‘s alright, don‘t worry. I actually have some questions for you. Nothing sketchy, I promise.«

Whoever this man is, he‘s got some charm. But it works, and you‘re already listenening to him anyway. Come to notice, you have never seen this man before. Especially not in such a rowdy bar like this. He seems to be way too organised and polite for this.

After a small moment, he speaks up again, getting to his questions.

»Promise me not to freak out, but I know about your mutation. Your ability to move things around without actually touching them? Yes, so, we have that university in New York, people like you are trained there.«

Panic rises in your gut and you feel like this man is a danger for you. Of course, he expected that reaction, it‘s not the first time he confronted mutants to get them into his university. Before you could actually scream or get physical, he puts his hand up and continues to talk.

»I don‘t mean to harm you. Just help and get you a safe place. We will help you with your telekinesis.« Charles still seems calm and polite like before, seeing a hint of tension behind his expression. Whatever this is about, you are getting a hard time processing it. Now, come to think of it, he actually seems less patient. The way he worded it was polite and calm, but it‘s noticeable that he did this more often probably.

»No.«

Charles face drops at your blunt answer. But he has more ways to convince you.

»Darling, we offer excellent food and rooms to live in. It won‘t even cost you anything, we just want to make sure you‘re safe and learn to control your ability.«

»Yeah, that‘s what they all say. Charming me up at first and then offering me something unrealistic. Who even is ‚we‘?«

You scoff, downing the last few sips of your beer before setting it down and getting up to leave. Charles follows you quickly, making sure he doesn‘t look like a creep. He finds himself feeling stupid, of course someone would think that way when a strange man starts talking like that.

»By ‚we‘ I mean-«

»I don‘t want to hear it.«

You interrupt him, knowing better from studying ciminoligy for half a year by now. Second semester and all you can think about are the various ways of unknowingly getting into the hands of death. Or maybe your paranoia just got worse once you started uni, but that‘s beside the point.

Stomping out of the bar, the cold air hits you like a truck, immediately wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck and shoving your hands into your soft jacket. As if this isn‘t giving you an anxiety attack already, the man is following beside you, not letting up.

»Listen, we can talk about this.«

He tries again, putting his own coat as he falls in step with you. You, however, shake your head and keep your eyes forward.

»No. I don‘t want to.«

Charles tries really hard not to let his frustration show, trying out another way of figuring out what to do. He keeps his eyes on you, finally reading your thoughts to find out why you are so reluctant. As he does so, he finds himself more concerned than surprised. The fact that you are afraid of getting killed this way is something he didn‘t expect to hear. At the same time, your mind is so chaotic, it was hard at first to hear what you were thinking. Probably an effect of the alcohol, but something tells him this is most likely normal.

Seeing that he won‘t leave your side, you consider using your ability. Charles is faster, since he is still in your mind, stepping up in front of you.

»If you think using your mutation will solve your every problem, then you are wrong. Well, mostly. But this won‘t solve it, if not make it worse for you.«

He exhales once he is done talking, his expression growing more serious and authoritive.

»How did you even know I was about to use some powers on you?«

You try to pretend you don‘t have any abilities or mutation, not sure where this will lead you to anyway and being on edge from the moment he mentioned your telekinesis.

The man before you just smiles, seeing through the attempt of playing innocent.

»I read minds, dear. No way of hiding.«

His sentence throws a brutal shiver down your spine, feeling the strong urge to run away. Good thing you went the opposite direction of your dorms, so he wouldn‘t know where you live for now.

Charles sees how you are struggling, trying a more gentle approach this time.

»Look, I won‘t force you to come to my school, but I would recommend it to you. Here is my card with my number, tell me if you change your mind.«

He hands you over a small business card, the ink-writing neat and classy, it almost makes you forget how anxious you are. With a last look at him, you make your way back to your dorms with an uneasy and uncomfortable feeling towards this all. Just your lucky saturday.

◐

Next day was hard waking up, the slight hangover from the few beers last night were giving you a headache making you even more tired than usual. The business card from Charles is a constant reminder of how the night ended. In an unpleasant way. You were up for about three more hours, researching about the school and this man who talked to you. It‘s all so strange but familiar at the same time. You don‘t know why, but it doesn‘t sound so bad after constantly thinking about it in your lectures. Even now, as you are taking orders in the drive way, the idea of going to that school is more appealing than getting your dream job as a crime scene detective.

Another car drives up, hearing the motor through your headset and see it on the CCTV in front of you. You can‘t see the person inside yet, speaking the sentence you have to say at least a hundred times since this afternoon already.

The deeper, smooth voice tells you his order, a simple coke and fries. Writing the order onto your pad, you hand it over to your coworker and tell the person to drive up to the front window. Once he does, you help your coworker with the coke, the day being less busy now that it‘s nearing the closing hours.

You step up to the front desk, holding both the cup of soft drink and bag of fires, handing it over the open window. Once you look at the person, you pause. But you decide to pretend you don‘t know him, continuing with your job.

»That‘d be three-nintynine, sir.«

Of course, Charles smiles ever so politely at you and hands you more money than needed in return. You get the change behind the window, but he speaks up.

»Oh, no need for change. That‘s you tip, I know you work hard. However, I do need to speak to you. Your shift ends in fifteen minutes, no?«

Of course he knows that. Of course he knows where you work, probably even knows when you have to wake up for university.

You nod without argument, keeping your head down and sort the money in the cash register, really hoping he will just drive off silently and not cause a scene.

»I‘ll meet you at the back, then.«

Once he is away, you feel relieved and become more anxious in return. You sigh out heavily in attempt to get the uncomfortable feelings away, it not helping your situation.

»That guy bothering you?«

Your coworker at the food questions, looking ready to step in and follow the person you took the order from. But you shake your head in return, reassuring him you just had a long day and you get overwhelmed easily. At least he didn‘t hear exactly what Charles said, or else he‘d be running after that car in a second.

Your coworker is nice for that, also being strong and muscular, but you could handle this on your own.

Cleaning and sorting the rest of the stuff in the last fifteen minutes, and finally getting back into your normal clothes, you make your way outside to meet Charles.

You walk out of the back as usual and see the sillhoute of the man you just saw yesterday at the bar. He walks up to you, hands in pockets and still with that polite expression.

»Good evening. How was your shift?«

Fucking wonderful. You don‘t say that though and get straight to the point.

»Why are you here?« Charles seems either surprised or impressed for a moment, it‘s hard to tell.

»Just here to remind you of my offer. Not sure if you forgot about it since you had a few beers last night,« he answers back, putting his hands behind his back, »did you think more about it yet?«

Of course you have. You have researched about their school as much as you could, sacrificed your sleep for it.

»I haven‘t. I‘m not going, I have other things to do.«

You reply back with more intent behind it, leaving no room for arguments. As you are about to walk past him, he grabs your arm, making sure he doesn‘t hold on too tight and spooks you even further.

»You are making me look like a stalker if you keep doing this. Please, just hear me out on this.«

Charles sighs out, seeming to be done with any kind of options to get you into his school.

You stay firm and clear about your opinion, glad his grip isn‘t tight enough, so you pull your arm back to yourself.

»I‘m too busy for this. Don‘t show up here again, or I will get Robert out.«

The threat may seem empty for Charles, but he isn‘t some kind of creepy stalker who will argue with you on that. Indeed, he respects your words and makes his way back to his car, finally giving you some peace.

◐

It‘s been five days since you‘ve last seen Charles at your work place. Right after that night, he never set a foot into the restaurant you work at again. You have started to feel lighter and relieved that he didn‘t show up afterwards anywhere. Maybe life is worth living if there isn‘t a constant, annoying voice nagging you to join some mutant school. You don‘t even feel like a mutant, what is a mutant anyway?

Everything was peaceful, until you hear a knock at your dorm room door. You didn‘t think too much of it, it could be some of the other students asking for salt or some eggs, even though it‘s about ten PM. It‘s night‘s rest, why would someone actually knock at your door now?

Pushing your slight anxiety away, you answer your door. And you immediately want to close it again.

»Good evening, miss-«

»What in the actual fuck...«

You sigh out a curse, already closing the door but Charles puts his foot in between.

He huffs out, taking a step into your room. It‘s mostly decorated with posters and some personal belongings laying around on the nightstand and your bed, it not being as messy as most dorm rooms.

»Have you thought about it? Actually, forget that. We need you.«

Now he has managed to stun you. There‘s no way a mutant school or actual important people need you.

»What do you mean?«

You ask back, just letting him inside your room at this point, this being your last worry. He enters fully and feels relieved you aren‘t making a scene, starting to explain.

»We need more people in our school, and I‘m sure you have great potential. And we also need more people on our missions… if you are in for it.«

Charles keeps his expectant gaze on you, visibly tense as he waits for your answer. There‘s no way you would take such big responsebility to help mutants, already working on your actual dream job.

Finally, you shake your head in return, denying once more.

»No,« you take a step back, crossing your arms, »I‘m not joining, as I said before. I am not built for this and I‘m definitely not a mutant.«

Charles pauses at your answer, tilting his head a bit.

»Do you even know what a mutant is, dear?«

It feels like he has been living in your head for the last few days, now that you think of it. How did he even find out where your dorm room is?

»How did you get into my room in the first place?«

You ask back, raising your voice lightly at him as the realisation hits, making him a bit annoyed by your question.

»Again with these questions? Look, if you won‘t join us, lives will be at stake-« You inerrupt him, having no energy for this talk.

»I‘m not joining that damn school! I have my own studies and job, I can‘t just drop it.«

Charles understands your concern and eventually nods, speaking up again more softly.

»I get it, we can make sure you can live by our school and also get to your criminoligy classes and job. I promise you, we can get this figured out, if you just let me.«

He sighs out in the end, seeming more exhausted than you at this point. Is he always going after people this way?

»Maybe… I will think about it.«

He nods shortly at your response, seeing that you seem to think straight at least. Charles is really trying not to read into your mind at the moment, eventually speaking up again. More calmly, but still loud enough to alert the guards that walks down the hallway at the moment.

A sharp knock sounds at your door, followed up with a deeper voice.

»Miss? Is there another person in your room? You know very well that it‘s strictly forbidden, especially if boys involved.«

The voice, louder and deeper, tells you it‘s one of the more chill guards from outside. Still, you can‘t help but feel embarrassed and flushed.

»I‘m just talking to my friend on the phone!«

You reply back loud enough for him to hear through the door, glad he isn‘t walking into your room to be sure of your answer. Charles holds back on smiling at the situation, keeping his eyes on something else for now.

»If you say so… have a good night.«

With these words, the guards seems to walk away, leaving you be. You sigh out relieved, looking back to Charles, who seems to be more than amused all of a sudden.

»The term ‚boy‘ would be too young for me, but whatever. Just glad we didn‘t get caught, hm?«

He winks cheekily at you, approaching your window as he keeps his eyes on you for a moment longer.

You really want to punch him right now.

»Just… is it okay if I call you once I think about it?«

He nods in agreement to your question, glad you seem to be more willing to it now than before. The man opens your window and slips out silently, saluting to you shortly before he disappears into the night.

◐

Two days have passed, and you‘ve been a little more on edge these days. It‘s not like you haven‘t before, but this is just getting worse. The strange school and that Charles stays in your mind, being still unsure if he is sometimes flirting with you or not.

You shake your head, focusing back on the assingment in front you, writing another two sentences before growing frustrated again. This is distracting you a lot.

»What about now?«

That familiar, distracting voice sounds behind your ear again, jumping in your seat. You turn around quickly, huffing out annoyed.

»How long have you been standing behind me for?«

You frown, still holding your hand to your chest as you‘re slowly calming down from the jumpscare he just gave you.

He shrugs with a small smirk, keeping his eyes on your essay at your desk.

»A few moments. Your essay‘s good, could use some more words though.« He answers back, giving you some unwanted feedback.

»Well, what‘s your final decision?«

He gets back on track, trailing his eyes back to you as he stays leaned slightly over you shoulder.

»Uh...«

Your brain stops thinking, being still stressed from university work and that tough decision. In the end, you decide to just give in. To stop that endless game of his.

»Sure. I‘m going.«

He actually seems surprised at your response, having expected some reluctance once more. But you seem almost eager to join. Almost. He tilts his head, leaning back and puts his hands into his pockets,

»Huh. I expected more reluctance from you. In fact, I was ready to tell you about your deepest fears and secrets, but it seems like I don‘t need to do that.«

He smiles politely, getting sick of seeing it all the time. You won‘t mention it though, just feeling a bit tense again.

»Yeah, cool… when‘s that school starting again?«

Charles get back on the topic at your question, telling you briefly about the times and how many times a week you need to go to your trainings. It doesn‘t seem too bad, having training three times a week, and you don‘t need to attend to their classes since you are old enough and have your own studies to attend to.

»You can start right tomorrow. I‘m sure I‘ll find you there either way.« You nod back in response, sighing out softly to soothe your nerves about the whole thing. It shouldn‘t be too bad anyway, there‘s no need to be anxious or worried again. Finally, he seems to leave your room through your window again, taking a last look at you.

»Please don‘t worry yourself sick, it‘s not healthy.«

With that, he disappears out of your window, still wondering how he can be so quiet doing that. He doesn‘t even look stupid while doing so, how is that possible?

Getting back to reality, it‘s your time to pack your stuff to live in that Xavier University starting tomorrow afternoon, after your classes.

◐

Now that you‘ve got all your stuff for the university, getting out of your bus with your bag slung over your shoulder. Walking a fair bit, you finally start to see a big, rather gothic-looking building that should hopefully be the school you‘ll be going to for the next few weeks. It looks more like an old castle, but it doesn‘t matter anyway as you feel a strong breeze hit you in full force.

You finally drag yourself up to the big doors, getting in and relax at the warm air inside. There‘s chatter and younger people walking around, them probably being teenagers, which makes you feel out of place. Sure, you are a young adult, basically, but it‘s strange to be in the same space as so many teens. Shaking these strange thoughts away, you get to find the office of Charles.

On the way there, you accidentally bump into some of those younger people, finding them actually quite interesting. Especially the one‘s with obvious, physical differences. For example, a boy with horns, some girl with wings. It doesn‘t seem to end.

»I see you kept your promise.« You turn around to face Charles, again with his charming smile. But before you could answer him with an unmotivated comment, he speaks up and open the door to his office, walking in with you.

»I won‘t waste any more time, so I‘ll get straight to the point.« he goes around his desk, facing you again and leans his hands onto the surface, »We need another person like you on our next mission. Telekinesis is a strong thing, and I‘m sure you can develope your strengths even further. That‘s why I‘m glad you‘re here. You are ready to train, right?«

His serious expression softens, a small grin spreading across his face as he waits for your reaction. It‘s not like you have another choice anyway, being here already.

»Sure, why not?«

Hitting the mat with a loud thud, clothes getting heavy from your sweat and panting like a dog is the most exhausting thing you‘ve ever had to go through. His hand-to-hand combat skills aren‘t making this easier. It‘s almost as if he is trying to give you karma for being so reluctant on joining the school before.

»Fuck – can we stop for a second? I think I hit my head.« You pant tiredly, not having any more strength in your arms and legs left. But Charles doesn‘t show any mercy, chuckling as chalant as he is at you.

»Oh, c‘mon. We‘re only at round two and you‘re already tired out? Is your stamina really that bad?«

The light taunt is not making this any better. Your limbs are slowly recovering from the few sparring rounds and his teasing is starting to get to you.

You manage to stad up again, still catching you breath while he looks totally fine. This man is probably fifteen years older than you and seems to be fitter than you.

With that mentality and new motivation, you become more determined to beat him and become stronger than him. He tilts his head at you, seeming expectant.

With a deep breath, you focus on getting your telekinesis back into control. In this moment, you are glad that you practised your powers a few days ago. Without warning, he falls back, seemingly having been swiped off his feet by the air. Charles grunts and rolls to his side with a low groan and rubs his back lightly.

»Just now realising you can use your powers?« Despite him being in light pain from the fall, he still teases and pokes fun at you.

The older man stands up again and faces you once more, rolling his shoulder to release some tension.

»You didn‘t hesitate on the first time we met, though.«

That stupid smirk. You wish you could wipe it off of him right now, but now that he is your mentor, you can‘t do that.

With a brief shake of your head, he decides to drop it and be more serious for now.

»Okay, but seriously. I was actually surprised when you got me off my feet. I couldn‘t look into your mind at that moment.«

That was new. You didn‘t know you were this cool.

As he explains some more stuff of hand-to-hand combat and how to subtly use your powers. Meaning, you have to use them every day now and get used to it, as well as control it properly. But there‘s one thing you didn‘t tell him before, and now it‘s the perfect opportunity to do so.

»I actually… well, I made a rude costumer faint once. I guess I made his blood pressure drop abruptly with my powers and I don‘t know how I did that, to be honest.«

Charles eye‘s widen and he seems genuinely shocked for a moment. That is until he smiles, of course. He seems strangely excited about that. Able to control something such as blood in a living human being? That‘s the best and most horrifying new he has ever heard in a long time.

»Great! So, we know how far your powers can go and I‘m sure we can work with that. How about we train tomorrow again?« with a quick nod from your side, he speaks up again, »And please don‘t do anything else like that again. At least not until tomorrow.«

◐

Controlling your powers became easier as the days passed and you made it your new habit to unnecessarily use your powers when you were alone or at the Xavier university. Charles was proud of the progress, but your combat skills still needed some improvement. Of course, it‘s not easy to just teach you some tactical stuff when you never threw a bunch before in your life. But it‘s getting better. Slowly but surely.

Sure, he still gets cocky from time to time, but he is actually getting really helpful and seems to enjoy the training sessions too. But these things aside, the most important part is that your progress is quick and effective. Your powers are getting better under control and you‘ve managed to become even stronger.

Overall, your life has become more entertaining and less stressful. You moved to their dorms at Xavier school and managed to fire yourself from that awful fast food restaurant, so you don‘t have to deal with any rude costumers or your lazy manager again.

In all honesty, it feels really cool to be there in that school. You got to know more people and befriended some students and mentors in your age group. Finding out that there‘s more people like you, with various mutations, has been a refreshing and relieving experience. All these years having spent hiding your true self from everyone else, for your own safety, took a toll on you.

Having Charles as your trainer and mentor has its benefits. He actually is a caring person and you have seen him only have good or heartwarming interactions with the kid students around the school. He helps you get along with your powers and seems like the most understanding person on the planet.

Now, after three weeks, a lot of things have changed to the better. But some things also stayed the same. Your anxiety and paranoia, for example. You still feel the need to chek everything thrice and prepare yourself mentally for stuff a few hours before the actual event. It‘s safe to say it is taking energy from you as well.

Charles has mentioned before that his team needs you to help them out in a specific mission. That‘s why you‘ve been training for so long after all. In the briefing, you were sat at the table with the rest of the mutants, trying to pay attention to what Charles is talking about at the front. It seems important, but you can‘t wrap your head around anything he is saying.

Maybe that one joint was a mistake before walking into this.

With you eyes slightly red and watery, your body less stiff and your mind in a constant haze, it wasn‘t that hard to tell that you took something before this meeting. But could anyone blame you? Weed is known for making people relaxed and you were tired of being on edge all the time. Especially with these cool and more experienced mutants around.

However, you seem to have yourself pretty easily under control and no one even bats an eye into your direction, all eyes focused on Charles or the few documents laid in front of them. However, one person notices and he is actually concerned for a moment.

Charles steals a few glances at you, figuring it out a moment later. As he is explaining the plans and states some more information, he tries to read your mind at the same time.

When you have toothache is… is the pain in your mouth or brain?

Charles hears form your mind, glancing to you again before he ignores it and keeps going with the plan.

Wait, I need to focus. Is a hotdog a sandwich?

Eventually, Charles pauses for a brief moment during his speech before he keeps going as if nothing happened and stops reading into your mind for now. Wolverine scrunching his nose lightly and also steals a glance in your direction but won‘t say anything and just looks back at Charles with a light smirk.

Once the meeting is over, he sends everyone out but keeps you there for longer. No one seems to suspect anything, assuming he just needs to prepare you more since you are still a newbie. It‘s a wonder no one actually noticed or said something.

»Did you get how the plan works?« You nod your head at Charles question, doing your best to focus on him and not on how funny his face looks at the moment.

»Did you also get weed before the meeting?« Now his face looks less funny. How did he find out, you were doing fine.

»Uh… no?« You are really trying to pretend that you‘re sober and have no idea what he‘s talking about. But you can‘t fool him either way.

»Sure, you didn‘t. I‘ll brief you when you aren‘t high, but first I need to make sure you get back into your room.«

You look down, ashamed. He doesn‘t seem mad, but this is still a humbling experience. Eventually, he escorts you back into your own room and sits down with you to talk. Even when it‘s not easy to hold a serious conversation with you in such a state.

»Do you often smoke weed?« You shake your head no, sitting upright next to him on the edge of your bed. Definitely not trying to come off sober in front of him. »Then why did you do it today?« Charles is trying his hardest not to worry too much about it, feeling like it‘s his fault for you to think that drugs could help you in some way. But you only shrug in response and glance around your room as if it‘s the most interesting thing in the world. The man at your side sighs out and keeps his eyes on your, watching the slow movements of you eyes dilated pupils focusing on specific parts of your room.

This is frustrating him. Giving up on the serious conversation, he decides to end it here and try to give you some peace.

»Alright, I‘ll— « You already give up once you hear his first word and slump onto your bed, clumsy laying on it as he stands in front of it. Charles watches your limb body, making sure you‘re still breathing. Once assured, he lets out a breath.

»Just my luck… that‘s what I get for picking up a random person for this.«

He mutters under his breath while getting out of your room, having had enough for today.

◐

←MASTERLIST

[feyhunter78]

Healer's Flight

Description: Your would-be assassin picked the wrong beach to ambush you on.

Reader is an immortal mutant with healing powers.

It’s a beautiful beach, one with pristine sands, and cool breezes, the scent of sea salt on the air, and clear waters reflecting the stars that dotted the night sky. You loved this beach, held its location safe within your chest, nestled beside your heart.

Loved, past tense, because now you were afraid, feet digging into the sand as you ran, heart pounding against your chest like a war drum. You veered towards the water, one foot landing in the surf, your heart taking flight, but then he caught you, yanking you back by your hair.

“I said, stop fucking running.” He growled, his grip on your hair tight, pulling at your scalp, as his arms wrapped around you.

“Let me go, you Nazi bitch.” You fought against him, trying to break free of his hold, but it was useless. This wasn’t a normal low-level assassin, this was an enhanced.

His grip tightened on you, squeezing like a vice grip, and you felt your lungs began to stutter, unable to draw in oxygen.

Tears began to roll down your face, dripping onto his bare arm.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He cooed mockingly.

“You’re a monster.” You choked out, nails clawing at his skin.

“Me? I’m not the mutant freak. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”

You weren’t a threat to humans, you were a healer, all you did was lie low and try to help those who needed it. That’s all you had been doing for five hundred years.

“K’uk’ulkan.” You whimpered out, as your vision began to fade, hoping the gods would take mercy on you, and allow you a final vision of him before you died.

“Kool-la-what? Are you casting a spell on me, witch?” The assassin snarled, releasing his grip ever so slightly.

Your hand was free, and you gripped his arm, focusing on the spot where your skin connected.

He swore and dropped you, holding his arm close to his chest. There in the shape of your hand was decaying flesh, black and rotted.

You struggled to your knees, desperately sucking in air as your lungs seized. “Yes, I am.”

You weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

The assassin lunged at you, and you threw your body to the side, landing in the surf, hands glowing a bright gold.

You pushed the hair out of your face, tense and waiting for his next move, when you heard something whiz by you, then a solid thud. You looked up to see the assassin lying on his back, a spear imbedded in his chest.

Large warm hands pulled you to your feet. “In yakunaj, are you hurt?”

K’uk’ulkan’s low voice was a balm to your panicked mind, and your fingers found purchase in the bejeweled collar he wore, as you collapsed against him.

He scooped you up and brought you further onto the beach, settling on the sand with you in his lap. His hands smoothed back your wet hair, his eyes searching your face.

“I—my throat.” You coughed out, motioning to the mottled bruising that you were sure was already starting to appear.

He gently tilted your head up and hummed in displeasure. “He dared to put his hands upon you? I will throw his body to the sharks; I swear to you in reina.”

“They will fade, do not fret, my love.” You soothed, leaning into his touch.

K’uk’ulkan’s presence made you feel safe, as if no harm could befall you while he remained at your side.

“You are done with the surface world, they do not deserve you, and this has proved it.” He said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the corpse behind you.

“But there are people that need me.” You protested weakly, lightly running your fingers across your throat, speeding up your already enhanced healing ability.

He cupped your face, his warm brown eyes like amber flecked with gold, filled with sorrow. “They do not need you more than I do in yakunaj. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me.”

You melted under his gaze, the fight draining from your body, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “But who am I if not a healer?”

“You will still be a healer, my people injure themselves often, they are like children, stumbling over every loose stone in their path.” He gave you a weary smile along with his promise.

You smiled back at him, carding your fingers through his thick hair. “That is not true, your people are fearsome warriors.”

K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against yours. “What can I do to make you come home, and to stay? What must I give you to have my queen by my side?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in his warmth. It had been four hundred years of this, back and forth, stay or go, rule, or heal. You loved K’uk’ulkan more than anyone, anything, but you’d never been able to pry yourself from the grip of the surface world.

“You cannot buy my heart, you already have it.” You said, taking one of his hands and pressing it to your heart.

“But I do not. It sits in the hands of the surface dwellers, who crush it into a fine powder day after day, while I am helpless to watch.” His fingers curled, finding purchase in the fabric of your shirt, a desperate, pleading grasp.

“K’uk’ulkan…” You breathed, heartbreaking at the anguish in his voice.

“Y/N, you must return with me, if only so that I do not die of worry.” He pulled away and motioned to the corpse. “Look at what has happened, what if I had not been here—in yakunaj, you could have died.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were terrified, closer to death than you’d been in a long time. Maybe he was right, you could go with him, take care of his people, then return to the surface in a century or two and check on them.

“I will do it.” You said, closing your eyes, so he couldn’t see the tears of guilt welling up in them. How could you do this? Abandon all those who needed your help?

His thumbs wiped away the stray tears, and he brushed his lips across your forehead. “You will be happy there in reina, have faith in me.”

You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. “I do, but…”

He shook his head. “No, but, do not let your mind run rampant as it tends to do. You owe the surface world nothing.” His voice was steady, as he leaned down and captured your lips, the warmth of him soothing your worries, and making your head pleasantly fuzzy.

You looped your arms around his neck, head tilting to the side, to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coconut and sea salt, his skilled tongue stroking yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

He kept you pressed against him as he stood, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked into the surf, intent on keeping you safe forever.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Little Sea Storm -Oneshot

Word count: 1723

The Avengers were sent out in small teams to gather Mutants.  Ever since the existence of Mutants had been made known to the general public there had been an overwhelmingly negative response.  Humans were afraid of the power of these people who overall blended in well with them, but ultimately could overpower or hurt them in many cases.  There were a lot of public awareness campaigns going on, trying to restructure the public view of mutants to a more positive one, but there were many Mutants who now found themselves ostracized by family and friends, suddenly homeless, and some retaliating out of fear or survival.

Bucky, Wanda, and Yelena all walked through the alleyways of Queens, their Mutant detectors scanning the area for runaways that needed help.  They came across a small group of them, hiding out in an abandoned building on the main floor.  “We aren’t here to hurt you,” Wanda called out as the Mutants all scrambled back from them.  “We are here to help get you to shelter and safety.  To a Mutant-safe place.  Please,” she said, holding her hands out.

Bucky’s eyes flickered across the group.  “Jesus, they’re just kids,” he frowned.

One girl walked forward, holding her hand out.  “Stay away,” she said, her voice strained as she tried to sound firm.  “We don’t need your help.”

Wanda took a step toward her then paused.  She suddenly bent over with a grunt, then fell to her knees, her back bending unnaturally as a choking sound came from deep in her throat.  Yelena gasped and ran to her, trying to help straighten her out, but it was like she was stuck in midair, stiff and shaking.  “What is this?” Yelena asked incredulously, then looked at the girl.  “What are you doing?  Let her go!”

“How do we know we can trust you?” the girl yelled at her.  “How do we know you’re not just another government agency trying to round us up and make us disappear?”

Bucky took a step forward and the girl raised her other hand towards him.  “Wait,” he said, holding his hands up.  “We’re part of the Avengers.  We’re not here to take you in, or get rid of you.”  She glared at him, but didn’t make another move.  “We just want to help,” he said imploringly.  “Get you off the streets and safe.  There’s a place, a school, full of Mutants that can help you learn about your abilities and learn how to use them.  Please,” he said, taking another step and glancing at Wanda, whose face was turning purple.  “She can read minds, and will show you what we’re saying is true.  Just let her go.”

The girl glanced between the three of them, looking unconvinced, but finally dropped her hand.  Wanda fell back, Yelena catching her as Wanda gasped for breath.  The other teenagers around the girl started to approach them, asking questions and letting Wanda into their minds, each of them deciding to go with them.  The girl was the last one, looking guarded as Wanda showed her the school in her mind, her face slightly relaxing when Wanda finished.

“Will you come with us?” Wanda asked warily.

The girl looked between them all again, then at the other kids in the group, who all smiled and nodded at her.  “Fine,” she said curtly.  “But if anything bad happens to my friends, I’ll end you.”

Wanda nodded, and she and Yelena led the way back to the Quinjet.  Bucky fell in step with the girl at her back.  “What’s your name?” he asked her.

The girl stared at him for a moment before looking forward.  “Y/N,” she replied.  

Bucky nodded.  “I’m Bucky.”

“I know,” Y/N said.  

He snorted.  “So, what’s that trick you pulled back there?”

Y/N sighed heavily.  “I can manipulate water, in all its forms.  There’s water in blood,” she said simply.  “So I can manipulate the blood in people’s bodies.  Make them do whatever I want.  Or kill them.”

Bucky felt a tinge of both fear and sadness for her in his chest.  She was incredibly powerful.  Some Mutants they had come across had simpler abilities, like becoming invisible, changing the density in their body, and self-healing.  Only some of them had abilities that could be considered dangerous, and so far Bucky hadn’t seen any as powerful as hers.  She had nearly taken down the Scarlet Witch for fuck’s sake!  He could also tell that because of it she had been rejected and cast out, and was now feeling responsible for keeping herself and other Mutants safe.

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Bucky mused as they continued walking.  “Being able to literally hold someone’s life in your hands.”  Y/N didn’t answer, her jaw tightening.  “I know how that feels,” he said.  

Y/N looked at him.  “Do you?”

“More than I’d like to,” Bucky murmured.  

They looked at each other for a long moment, an unspoken conversation passing between them.  He felt like she understood him, and he understood her to some small extent.  She blinked then a small smile lit up her face.  She nodded then followed the other kids on board the Quinjet.

***

Bucky walked into Xavier’s Institute.  The school was teeming with kids walking to their next classes or to lunch, and he weaved through them towards the headmaster’s office.

“Ah, Sergeant Barnes, come in,” Charles Xavier said without looking at him.  

“Charles,” Bucky greeted him.  “Long time no see.”

“Yes,” Charles said, finally turning to look at him with a smile.  “I’m sure you have an idea of why I asked you to visit.”

Bucky sighed.  “Y/N?”

Charles nodded.  “She’s proven to be quite a handful.  Which we normally enjoy, but she still has a hard time trusting us, and lately there’s been an issue with another student.”

“An issue as in…what?” Bucky frowned.

“A boy that has an ability like hers.  He’s been experimenting with the extent of his abilities in some unproductive ways.  We are handling it, but when it comes to him trying to challenge her, she has not been making very wise decisions.”

“So you want her to not stand up for herself?” Bucky asked pointedly.

“No, I of course want her to defend herself.  But he never engages until she does,” Charles said patiently.  “Since she doesn’t fully trust us, she doesn’t listen to us.  But maybe if someone she trusted could talk to her about what’s happening…?”

Bucky sighed.  “Alright.  I’ll talk to her.”

Charles smiled then pushed a button on an intercom.  “Y/N Y/L/N to the headmaster’s office please.  Y/N Y/L/N.”

Bucky waited in silence until he heard a gasp from the door.  “Bucky?” Y/N said, running over to him.  She squealed as she launched herself at him, nearly sending him toppling to the floor as he caught her.  

“Well hello my little sea storm,” Bucky laughed as he hugged her.  

“What are you doing here?” she asked, looking up at him excitedly.

“Sergeant Barnes is here for a short visit,” Charles interjected.  “You’re excused for the rest of your classes today.”

“Thanks Mr. Xavier!” Y/N said, quickly pulling Bucky out of the office by the hand.  She led him out of the building toward the gardens.  “Alright, seriously, what are you doing here?” she asked again, turning toward him with a suspicious look.

Bucky chuckled.  “Charles was worried about you,” he said, taking a seat on a nearby bench.  “Said something about some boy with similar abilities to you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and sat next to him.  “Jake.  He’s just an asshole.”

“Sounds like it,” Bucky nodded.  “But you’ve been fighting with him?”

She sighed and looked out over the gardens.  “He’s very good at egging me on.  I know I shouldn’t engage.  It’s just hard when he keeps shooting hard streams of water at the back of my head.”

Bucky frowned.  “Well, I’m not gonna tell you not to defend yourself.  By all means, beat his ass.”  He paused, turning to face her.  “What about the blood manipulation?”

Y/N looked at him.  “I’ve never used it against him.  Even though I wanted to, just to make him stop.  He’s asked me about it, like he wants to learn how, but…” she shook her head, looking down at her hands.  “I won’t teach that to anyone.  Ever.”

Bucky reached a hand out to hold one of hers.  “I think that’s smart, and very responsible of you.”

She scoffed.  “It’s a big responsibility, to hold people’s lives in your hands,” she said, repeating his words from months before when they met.

Bucky smiled.  “It is.  That’s what makes you powerful, is knowing you could end someone, but choosing not to.  And that’s why I’m proud of you,” he said, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles.  Y/N looked at him, her eyes starting to fill with tears.  “Because you choose to be better than him.  Because you choose restraint.  You choose good, because you are good.”

Y/N’s tears spilled over and she sniffed quickly, wiping her face with her free hand.  She leaned in and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her as she rested against him.  “Thanks, Buck,” she whispered.

“Anytime,” he said quietly, kissing the top of her head.  “But you should also learn to trust your teachers more.”

She scoffed again, squeezing his hand.  “I’ll trust them once they can trust me,” she retorted, sitting back up.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked.

“I can tell they’re afraid of me,” Y/N said, giving him an unimpressed look.  “They know the extent of my abilities and it worries them.  Like I’m gonna snap at any second.  Ever since Jean Grey became the Phoenix, they’re…very watchful over the students here who hold a lot of power.”

Bucky frowned again.  “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not.  They want us to learn and be able to handle or control our power, but only enough for us to not use it against others.  Against them.”  She tapered off.  “I don’t want to hurt people.”

“I know you don’t,” Bucky said quickly with a nod.

She looked at him.  “Do you trust me?”

He smirked.  “With my life.”

Y/N smiled and looked back to the gardens.  “I trust you, too.”

[lizamango]

Cruel World 3/? (Brainwashed HYDRA!Reader x Steve Rogers)

summary: A war between SHIELD and HYDRA rages on in the shadows of the world. You live for the kill as a Black Widow until you discover Steve Rogers, the weapon for the opposing side who makes you question the side you’ve been fighting for. (inspired by Underworld, just go with the lore on this fic pls)

Part 1 ~ Part 2

warnings: smut later, canon typical violence

word count: 2564

“This is the camp where I was trained,” Steve states as he lands the quinjet.

“Has it changed much?”

“A little,” he murmurs. I look at him as his tone changes. His eyes are distant, jaw clenched. He’s reminiscing.

“It must be tough,” I start and he looks at me to continue. “Being alive when everyone you know is gone.”

“You would know about that, wouldn’t you?” he responds with the words I used earlier.

“I guess so. One fell swoop.” A silence falls upon us and I pace through the base. An American base. I never thought I’d come here of all places, out of my own free will. “Once Dreykov wakes, he’ll set everything right.”

“You have so much faith in him,” Steve states but it was more of a question. He’s asking why.

“Wouldn’t you? If someone saved you from certain death, wouldn’t you believe in them? He has treated me like his own,” I defend.

“You say that the cycle has never been broken before. What will happen to you once all this is over?”

“I’ll be judged before our council,” I hold back.

“And then?” Steve raises a brow, sensing there was more.

“I’ll probably be executed.”

His heart drops, I can practically hear it. He turns sharply and stalks towards me. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he asks incredulously.

I shrug indifferently. “Those are our rules.”

He starts breathing heavily, shaking his head. “You can’t be okay with this? How can you just accept that? I won’t allow it-“

I chuckle. “Steve, you have no authority. This is the life I’ve chosen.”

“You haven’t chosen anything. They’ve indoctrinated you into a program, used you, all the Widows as their weapons. As if you’re not even people, just a means to their ends.” He puts his hands on my shoulders, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“You’re making grave conclusions for someone who doesn’t know our ways.”

“I don’t need a fucking handbook, I’ve seen and heard enough.”

“You’re being ignorant, Steve. Don’t forget that we are not on the same side.”

“No,” we’re not, I expect him to say. “You’re being naive.”

I roll my eyes. “If you think so terribly of our ways then-“

“I’m not going to leave.” This man just loves to interrupt.

“Why not? I don’t need you anymore, Steve. My memories have enough evidence that you are alive. I need only to wait for Dreykov’s awakening and then we can take down Schmidt.”

He says my name in an almost defeated tone. “You need me,” he says simply. “I’m the only one who has your back in all of this. Not your sisters, not your Dreykov. Not even yourself.”

I cross my arms. “And how is that?”

“There’s a knife in your back and you don’t want to pull it out. You don’t even know it’s there.” His words cut deep but I try to shrug them off. He knows nothing. I look back at him and see his eyes have shifted to something behind me. He has a frown on his face though different to the one he was sporting when he was lecturing me.

“What?”

“Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards of the barracks,” he states. He walks towards a building and breaks open the lock. “This building is in the wrong place.”

We walk inside, my gun drawn. I spot the insignia painted on the wall. “This is SHIELD,” I accuse and point the gun at him. “You took me to a SHIELD facility?”

“I didn’t know, I promise you.”

“I knew not to trust you.”

“I am the only one you can trust right now,” he exclaims. “I am the only one who hasn’t lied to your face. So go ahead. Shoot me.” He steps closer so that the gun is resting right between his eyes. “If you don’t trust me, fucking shoot me. Get rid of the only person who’s trying to help you while everyone else is trying to kill you.”

I examine him.

“Kill me or believe me, that’s your choice.”

I withdraw my gun. “You’re so dramatic.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” he answers.

I clench my jaw.

We enter a room with three portraits. Heads of SHIELD, I assume.

“That’s Howard Stark,” Steve says.

“Stark Industries,” I comment. “I’ve seen that logo on weapons HYDRA uses.”

Steve frowns. “That makes no sense, Howard wouldn’t work for HYDRA.”

Are you so sure, Captain? I think to myself. “Who’s the girl?”

“Nobody,” he replies too quickly. He turns away from me and walks down the room, spotting a bookshelf. His eyes scan through each shelf. “If you’re already working in a secret office, why do you need to hide the elevator?” He pushes a shelf and they part to reveal elevator doors.

“After you,” I state.

We both descend to the only floor available and turn the lights on to find a room full of old computers.

Somehow the computers jump to life. Must all be connected to the power.

“Captain Steve Rogers,” a voice calls out.

“Who’s there?” I respond, gun drawn.

“Calm yourself, Widow.” A face appears on the screens of the computers.

“Arnim Zola,” Steve states.

“You know him?” I ask.

“Scientist who worked under Schmidt.”

“How do I not know you?” I question.

“There is much you do not know, Dreykov’s experiment.”

“And yet you know me.”

“HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.” Flashes of past news headlines and TV footage are shown on the screens as Zola speaks. Assassinations carried out by Assets or Widows. Facilities burning. “HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. You work with one of HYDRA’s most formidable Widows, your death for naught.” Steve punches the computer screen only for Zola to appear on another. “Alas, your affiliation with Dreykov’s experiment has made her a liability, no longer to be trusted.”

I frown. Excommunication? “Why do you keep calling me that?”

Zola states my full name as he did with Steve. “Family slaughtered in Odessa, adopted by Dreykov into the Black Widow program to serve this war. You who are so special that he kept you and your abilities a secret. He read that your DNA had the key to a serum stronger than that of Erskine’s. The power to activate a dormant gene in homo superiors, millennia’s worth of evolution, cut down to mere hours.”

“That is not true.”

“Oh?”

“I think I would know if I was experimented on. I’ve never healed as fast as Steve until…”

“The serum gave you abilities while your x-gene remained dormant, until a gross traumatic injury which otherwise would have killed you activated this mutation. It’s epigenetics, Widow.”

The gunshot wound.

“Why are you telling us all of this?” Steve asks.

“Because I’m stalling.”

The ground begins to rumble and all the computer screens shut down. Steve and I look at each other. I access the quinjet’s sentry mode through my communicator which detects a person. An Asset. My blood runs cold. Fuck.

“We have to get out of here.”

Steve finds an opening in the ground and we escape from under the building. I spot the Asset as he aims for us. Steve pushes us to the ground.

“Who is that?” he grunts. I hand him a gun.

“Get to the quinjet,” I say to him. I look back and squeeze my trigger. “It’s armed with machine guns. Shoot to kill.”

I hear Steve say my name but I ignore his calls as I run towards our enemy. Once upon a time I would have seen him as my ally.

I dodge the spray of bullets and jump up on a humvee, kicking him from the chin. He stumbles back as I land, pulling a knife out of one of my holsters. I slash at him but he counters my moves, blocking them with his metal arm then flinging the knife away. I used to be glad to have that metal arm on my side. His steel fingers grasp my throat and push me until my back hits the humvee but I grab another knife and stab it into his thick thighs with enough force to penetrate his reinforced combat trousers. I hear him grunt behind his mask but I slip from under him, rolling under the humvee. As I run towards the quinjet which is now in the air I hear him kick the humvee out of his way. Fuck. A spray of bullets forms a wall between the Asset and I as I climb up the ramp of the jet but not before I shoot my handgun, the bullet ricochets from the bulletproof lens of his mask. I enter the cockpit to see the Asset remove his mask.

“Steve you have a clear shot,” I say but he stares at the Asset, now with his mask off.

“Bucky?”

The Asset points his grenade launcher at us.

“Steve if you won’t take the shot, I will.” I walk towards the trigger but Steve pulls the jet up so I stumble and the Asset misses. “What are you doing?!” I exclaim.

“We’re not killing him,” Steve says with finality. He flies the jet away from the base.

“He’ll catch up to us,” I shake my head as I sit down. “He’ll find us and he’ll kill us, Steve you don’t know him-“

“I do.”

“What do you mean?” I notice he puts the jet on autopilot.

“I’ve known him all my life,” he turns his seat around and looks up at me. How could he possibly…

“James,” I realise. I scoff at how convenient and absurd this all is. “Schmidt takes your best friend and turns him into our most formidable Asset. This is bullshit.” I start to pace. “So there’s no way you’ll kill him but he won’t stop until he kills us. Isn’t that just perfect?” I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind.

“I thought I lost him… But I’ll get him back.”

“It’s not that simple,” I tell him.

“Why? He probably just didn’t see me. Once he does, he’ll stop coming after us.”

I shake my head desperately. “No, Steve. He won’t know who you are.” I sit in the chair next to him. “Assets… have no memory of their past lives. They’re not like Widows, they come from a different kind of clean slate.”

I expect to see him looking at me with disgust. How could I be okay with this happening to people around me? But he doesn’t. Steve only looks determined. “Then we’ll find a way to get his memories back.”

“Odessa,” I say. Before explaining, I enter the coordinates . “There’s an abandoned HYDRA facility, a scientist specialising in cerebral reprogramming-“

“Brainwashing,” Steve corrects.

I nod. “Brainwashing- he was based there until SHIELD came and tried to take him away. He was labelled a traitor so he was executed. That’s our only clue.”

“How do you know about this?” Steve questions.

“Dreykov trusted me with everything… A Widow defected from us, she was the one to try to take the scientist.”

Steve frowns. “A Widow?”

“Natalia Romanova. She tried to kill Dreykov.” The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Just imagining Dreykov dead along with my family… I would never have survived that night without him.

“How do… how do you know that Dreykov doesn’t have something to do with all this?”

I turn sharply to face him. “Don’t. There’s no way.”

“I’m just saying-“

“Steve, he saved my life. He took me in. He didn’t have to do that but he did.” He saved me in more ways than I can count.

“I’m not saying these things are related-“

“I’m not gonna listen to this, Steve.”

“Like you didn’t listen to me about HYDRA?”

I close my eyes and exhale shakily. “Steve, I mean it.”

“You’re only fighting me because you have doubts now too! Just face it, Dreykov is HYDRA, HYDRA feeds crises, reaps war, takes away freedom! I mean look at you!” he exclaims. “You had blind faith in this organisation, you and your Widow Sisters! They’ve got you all buying into the lie that they care about you while they send you on missions to kill innocent people all while not giving a shit about you when you’re no longer useful to them!” He stalks closer towards me.

“You’re. Wrong.” I glare at him and if looks could kill…

“I need you to face reality.” He looks at me so sincerely that my eyes sting. Why does he have to look like he cares so much? Why couldn’t he just be what I’ve been led to believe SHIELD is? It would be so much easier to hate him. I sense hesitation in his expression as tears threaten to expose how hurt I feel. He’s turned my whole world upside down in a matter of days… “I need you to…” he trails off, his eyes flickering from mine down my face to my shuddering lips.

I bite them to control the trembling but I hear Steve sigh.

“Need me to what?”

“I need you to open your mouth.” His voice is somehow deeper.

I gulp before doing as he says. His lips crash onto mine, his tongue exploring my mouth, almost fighting with mine. Our lips move in tandem, as if we didn’t even need to think about it. One of Steve’s hands rests on my cheek and I hear him inhale deeply as if taking me in. As if to devour me. I would let him.

His other hand is on my waist but it slowly snakes to the dip in my back and he presses me closer to his body. So close that I feel a hardness against my belly. I gasp and slowly pull away in surprise at the growing bulge and he sucks on my tongue as we part. The tear that had been slowly building finally fell down my cheek but he brushes it off with his thumb. He rests his forehead on mine.

“I’m sor-“

It’s my turn to interrupt him as I stop his apology with a tug on his blonde messy hair. I pull his head back with it to expose his neck and I place a gentle kiss on his pulse point. Steve sighs. I feel his heartbeat on my lips, his scent musky with sweat and smoke fills my senses. He’s all around me and all over me. He’s in me. I give his neck a long teasing lick, ending up at his ear. I tug on his lobe with my teeth and he chuckles.

“Have you ever fucked someone on a jet before?” I whisper into his ear, I just know that my voice travelled through him, gracing parts of him I could never physically touch.

He shakes his head at my question. “But I’m about to.”

🖤🖤

smut in the next chapter ✨


[fluentmoviequoter]

Gods and Monsters

Pairing: platonic Vicious characters x fem!mutant!reader ; platonic X-Men x fem!mutant!reader

Summary: You, a mutant with the power to detect and redirect the power of others, are transported to Victor Vale's world.

Warnings: Wade and Logan, fluff, brief angst, opportunity for part 2 if anyone actually likes this

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: I have no idea where this came from other than my obsession with X-Men and Vicious. It's probably terrible, but enjoy (said threateningly).

Picture from Pinterest (Bless you, artists. I love you all.)

“Shut up, Deadpool!” you yell as you throw your arms toward a fire-breathing mutant.

“But, sweet cheeks,” Wade begins, his voice surprisingly clear through his wet mask.

“Wade,” Logan growls.

“Oh, kabob, you know how it makes me feel when you use my real name.”

“I’d cut your tongue out if I thought it was worth the time,” Logan grunts, digging his claws into a shooter as he fires into Logan’s leg.

“Very Eli Ever of you,” Wade jokes.

“You and that stupid book.”

“Hey, don’t take your anger at Wade out on Victor Vale,” you call to Logan. “He would’ve ended this fight already.”

“He’s not real!”

“Whatever!” Wade interrupts. “Let’s... go!”

“I think you forgot a word, there, bub.”

“The writer threatened to put soap in my mouth, and I’d rather not get soap poisoning and go blind.”

“Uh, guys?” you murmur as an orange spark glints below you.

“Move!” Logan and Wade yell together.

You try to step back, but it’s too late. As you stumble on the dewy grass, or where it was a moment ago, you fall backward into a door-sized hole in the earth. Wade and Logan scream above you, but everything goes silent before you crash onto a sidewalk.

Coughing, you sit up and try to catch your breath. A large black dog presses its nose into your face and sniffs you, its tail wagging lazily.

“Hi, puppy,” you greet quietly. “You’re much cuter than Dogpool.”

Wade makes an offended noise somewhere in your mind, and you smile at the memory.

“Are you okay?” the girl with the dog asks.

You nod and rub your head as you look toward her. When you see her blond hair, water blue eyes, rainbow leggings, and red jacket, you freeze.

“Sydney?” you whisper.

Her eyes widen, and she steps back, pulling who you now believe to be Dol with her. This isn’t real, you tell yourself as you blink rapidly. I just hit my head or let someone in my head. You reach out mentally but only feel Sydney’s power and the dial of a dull ache settling deep in your bones. Victor, you realize. There is no way I’m in a book I’ve read.

“Sydney,” someone calls.

You prepare yourself to see Victor Vale, but your expectation falls short. He towers above you where you sit on the sidewalk, and Mitch stands beside him with his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, come on,” you murmur, feeling Victor’s powers nudge you away from Sydney. Inside, though, you’re trying not to show your excitement at being in the same moment, the same universe, you presume, as some of your favorite book characters.

“… knows my name,” Sydney whispers to Victor.

“I can explain that, Victor,” you interject. Mitch’s eyes widen at your use of Victor’s name, and you add, “I swear I don’t mean any harm. Especially to you, Mitch, you’ve been through enough.”

“Explain it quickly,” Victor demands, upping the pain dial.

You shift uncomfortably but embrace the pain as you say, “I was at my home, where you are characters in a book, and then this portal opened in the ground, and I landed on the sidewalk here. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know that I don’t belong here. I’d never hurt you, though, I just want to figure this out and get home.”

Victor hums, then shakes his head. He pictures the dial, and you rush to ask, “Should we meet at Falcon Price at midnight so I can prove it?”

Victor’s jaw tightens, and you allow him to flood your senses with pain. As your consciousness fades, you wonder what Logan and Wade are thinking. Maybe they’ve written you off already and have gone back to trying to kill one another.

“That seemed a lot more intense in the book,” you mumble as you wake, tied to a chair.

“So, you fell out of the sky. Where are you from?” Victor asks, leaning on a table across from you as he looks down at a knife.

“Westchester,” you answer immediately. “New York.”

“Who do you work for?”

“That’s complicated.”

“What do you do?”

“Save the world or try to. Can I ask you one question? Just one, I promise.”

Victor gestures with the knife for you to ask, a lazy movement with too much grace and fluidity. Now you wish you’d asked for two questions. You'd use the other to beg him to teach you.

“Thank you; Wade would kill me if I didn’t ask. Who’s taller, you or Eli? Because every time we try to find out, Victoria just confuses us.”

“Victoria?”

“She wrote the book,” you answer. “Named you after herself, prideful, I know. But she also made Angie look like her and look how she turned out. Wait, what color were Angie's eyes?”

You clamp your mouth shut and make a mental note to apologize to Wade. Now that you’re in the right situation, you can see why he runs his mouth constantly.

“You save the world?” Victor repeats, laying the knife blade across his palm.

“Or try to,” you remind him.

“So, you have powers?”

“Yeah.”

Victor’s patience is wearing thin, and you can tell when he asks, “What are they?”

“Well,” you begin, tilting your head. “Charles calls it power-kineses. I can detect powers and turn them against other mutants, people, whatever I want.”

“Charles?” Victor repeats, his pale brows drawn together. “As in Professor X, Magneto, X-Men, Charles?”

“You have him here?” you ask excitedly.

“No, he’s a comic book character.”

“Comic book?”

Victor stands straight at the realization that you’re not only claiming to be a powered individual from another universe but part of the X-Men. He hadn’t believed you so far, and his doubt is rapidly multiplying.

“Don’t make me do this,” you whisper.

Victor lowers the knife toward your abdomen, and you locate the pain he’s sending through your body and turn it. Sydney is the only other person in the room, so her gasp of pain is undeniable. Victor immediately turns the dial down, then off, and turns toward you.

“Just like I’m in a book here, you’re in a book where I come from. I know more about you than anyone else, Victor,” you explain, “even Eli.”

“Our worlds aren’t the same. This one can’t be saved.”

“In this world, powered people are monsters, right? Even Eli, as he fights to be a god. Victor, I’m used to the judgment, people calling me unnatural or a mutant. But I can help you.”

“She’s telling the truth,” Mitch announces as he returns. “There was a limited run of X-Men from the ‘70s. Nearly impossible to find today, but Radar is in them.”

“Radar?” you repeat. “That’s an awful name, so thanks for letting me get ahead of that one. Cyclops said he’d brainstorm something, but I didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Stupid?” Sydney suggests.

“Precisely.”

“Who’s your favorite character in our book?” she inquires, walking toward you.

Victor eyes you warily, but as you smile and tell her that you can't pick between them, then whisper that it’s Dol, he decides to trust you. Not because of anything you’ve said or the evidence that Mitch found, but because if Sydney and Mitch can trust you, you can’t be entirely bad. He walks around you, cuts your restraints, and returns the knife to the table.

“So, how do you stop Eli?” Victor asks.

“Well, it won’t be easy, even with the ability to alter his power,” you begin. “What exactly are you planning to do? Still out to kill him or just draw blood and lock him up?”

Before Victor can answer, a portal opens behind you, and a clawed hand reaches through and pulls you backward. You stumble as you fall out of the world you just agreed to help save.

Landing with a thud, you groan and look up at Logan and Wade, staring down at you.

“You’ll never guess who I just met,” you murmur.

“We weren’t done yet,” Victor says through the portal, which turns red around the edges as he uses his powers across the universes to keep it open.

“Is that Victor Vale?” Wade exclaims. “What the fridge?”

[aglassoforangejuiceee]

Old Skool #2

Summary: steve introduces bucky to a girl he’s sure they’ll both like

Warnings: dark themes, non-con/dub-con elements, mentions of drug use, reader deals/struggles with mental health, dealings with trauma, single parenthood, single mother reader (has a genius 4 year old), slow burn (kinda), blackmail, stockholm syndrome, angst, more tags to be added…

(2) Tell Me Something I Don’t Know

“Bucky?” the concern could be heard for miles, the sharp clap of a car door meeting its seal. You look to your left, surprised to see Steve looking around the damaged vehicle.

“In here,” you shudder at the feel of eyes on you. You force yourself to brush it off as you walk away from the sergeant. “Uh, hi Steve.” you naw on your bottom lip, anxiously teetering on your toes as you meet him just past the garage opening.

His blue eyes soften as he looks at you, pale cheeks reddening in embarrassment. The earlier anger you saw when he walked up shocked you, reminding you of the last class. His going to say something, but the other man speaks. “Thanks for answering my text, glad to know you’d still pick me up.”

The ire in James tone has you turning. You look between the two super soldiers. The tension palpable between the two. “We’re not doing this here,” The whisper spoken so personally, it felt like you were intruding.

“Mommy?” You face is pinched as you turn to your daughter. She’s eyeing you skeptically, and you honestly return a look of confusion. You’re by her side within a moment, shaken that there were witnesses to your swiftness.

“Hey baby, I need you to go to your room, go get your blueberry. wait for me.” The secret was conveyed perfectly. You watch her, you pay close attention to her eyes.

You kiss her on the top of her head. The tiny hairs on your back raise sharply. It’s too quiet as you watch her disappear down the hall, but you know they’re there, watching.

When you turn to face them your muscles are taught. You vision sharpens as you pay close attention to them both. “I’m not going to pretend like this was some accident,” You roll your shoulders, “So what do you want?”

“Y/n,” Steve starts, eyes startled, alarmed in a way that makes you watch him closer. His hands are held up placatingly, your eyes dart to James. He’s taught himself. “Please calm down, we just want to talk-“

“Get to the point Steve,” your tone is harsher than you wanted it to be, evident at his stricken expression. The silence is tense, you’re hearing sharp, listening out for your kid.

“It’s really not what you think doll,” The stoic soldier speaks up, his voice raspy from its momentary absence. You narrow your leer at him taking in his entirety. He looms in front of your tool shelf. The blue of his eyes are conflicting, dark and yet dangerously inviting. There was a hunger in his stance, like a predator stalking its prey… further unnerving you.

“Bucky, stand down.” Steve pleads softly. “I don’t want you to scare her, she’s-“ He cuts himself off. A grimace on his face as he looks back at you, ashamed, bashful. “Just stand down-“

“You gonna stop me Stevie?” Bucky’s tone was further unsettling now. Joyful and murderous. A creak in the floorboards throws you into over drive.

You’re behind the door connecting your house and garage in a moment, locking the door and shifting alarmingly fast to your daughter. As the door kicks in your already in your room, slinging your duffle along your body as you cling tightly to Nineve.

“Mom-“ she whimpers but you shake your head hard, silencing her fears. She’s burying her face in your shoulder as you silently slip through the window, closing it behind you with delicate diligence.

Your senses feel like live wire, your body electrified as you speed around the back of the house as you hear the two super soldiers argue and cause a rampage through your small quaint home.

“Buck stop!” Steve sharply reprimands. “She’s not supposed to be like the others, she’s different.”

A dark chuckle shakes the frames of the house as you sneaky into your car. “Then why’d you wait so long to introduce us, mhm punk?” There’s a pregnant pause. “You know I don’t like you holding out on me. Otherwise, I’ll start looking for myself,”

“They’ll kill you if you did. If they found out-“

“You’re gonna tell them?” Another pregnant pause, “Because if you do, you have to tell them what you did too.” Two heavy steps forward.

You clutch Nineve and quickly cover her mouth before she begins to cry. Just a moment baby, Please, you beg with your eyes as you listen to the bickering men.

“You know I wouldn’t do that, but Buck,” There’s further commotion, more rampage. “Buck-“

“Where the fuck is she?” James angrily snarls, “Come out doll.” He taunts.

“Bucky,” Steve hisses sharply. A few powerful thuds and bangs makes Nineve shake violently. Your hand is drenched in tears. Your heart begins to race but you stifle your breathing, calming your self. You’re sympathetic to her senses, but you can’t chance them catching you too soon.

The air becomes densely silent. You turn the key and shift gears, pulling out the garage in seconds. As you’re in the street, shifting gears and pulling off you see the both of them charge after you. Scrambling over themselves to get in their car.

But the head start was all you need. You’re whipping through traffic unnaturally fast as you make your way to the interstate.

Nineve clambers out of your hold, crying and screaming. “What was that?! Momma what was that! Why were they here?”

“Nonny please, stop screaming-“

“Mommy!” She squeals.

“Nineve stop yelling at me.” You reprimand sharply. Her cries quiet immediately. She hiccups and wraps her arms around herself. “I’m sorry.” you immediately apologize.

She’s quieter than normal. “I know that was scary. And I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry you had to hear that.” You let out a shaky breath. “And… and I’m sorry for snapping at you. I shouldn’t have, but I needed you to stop screaming.”

Nineve hiccups, but scoots into your side, clicking the seatbelt over her small lap. She snuggles closer as she wipes her tears. “I’m scared too. And the last thing I need are the bad men coming after us and the superhero’s getting involved.”

“B-but mommy,” She asks, voice shaky with tears. “I was scared of the superhero’s.” her small hands squeeze your side as she tries to hide beside you.

You rest a trembling hand on top of her head, doing your best to sooth her as you turn sharply off the interstate into the forest line. Honking horns and screeching tires the least of your worries. “I know baby, me too.”

—

When Nineve wakes up, you stop for gas in some fairway station, in the middle of somewhere Minnesota. She rubs her puffy eyes, taking in her surroundings. The area ear achingly silent as you turn off the vehicle. “Where are we mommy?”

“Minnesota, somewhere.” You tell her unsure. You reach to the glove box and grab the envelope. You thumb out enough money to fill the tank. You get out with the key, locking the door as you walk around your car to the pump.

You tense as you pump the gas, looking over your shoulder repeatedly, alert and ready to make a mad dash.

How has life managed to catch up with you so suddenly? You know you can’t keep running forever, but super soldiers? How did they even find out?

Your heart drops to your stomach. It was right in front of you. Steve was in your class, and despite your disregard of titles and accolades, you should’ve been more aware of the circumstances. But still, you felt blindsided. Why? Why target you? And why come after you now? And why was he so unsuspecting at first?

Your thoughts are interrupted but the shift in the silence. It’s impossible for them to have found you, or even caught up to you. Quickly you shake the nozzle and put it away. You close the gas tank opening and hurry to climb into your car. Nineve is dozing again, she’s tightly clutching her stuffed charmander. No doubt her mind is replaying the recent events. Softly your reach out to her as you pull off sharply. “Nonny,” you murmur, you shake her lightly to wake her.

“Yes mommy?” she whispers and rubs her eyes. “Your dreams, they’re scary aren’t they?” you ask carefully.

“Yes.” She says with a weep. You slow the car down to a crawl before turning off into the woods again. You stop when you’re far away enough from the road. You turn to Nineve in the dark of the early morning.

“Listen closely Nineve.” You tell her softly, “I won’t ever let the bad men get to you ever again.” She weeps more and you pull her close, holding her in your arms and cradling her. “I promise, I’ll keep you safe. We’ll never go back to the bad place ever again. Never, ever again.”

“But mommy-“

“No one is ever taking us again. I’ll keep you safe.”

—

“We should be close.”

“She could be anywhere,” The voices alert you, they’re dangerously close. You look down at Nineve, carefully laying her on the floor of the car. You cover her with the blanket you keep in the back, hiding her and keeping her warm from the chill outside.

You make a rash decision. Locking the car manually so not to alert them of your location. You listen to their feet crunching on the twigs and fallen leaves. Easily sneaking up behind them, watching them and listening from afar.

“You shouldn’t have gone to her house.” Steve grumbles. James scoffs. “I wanted to see her for myself. You got to see her, it was my turn.”

“You were going to grab her. The fuck is wrong with you Buck?”

James stood and turns to look at Steve. He gets in his face, “You know as good as me what it’s like now. How far removed we are from the world around us. And how the horrors we face have gotten to us,” James is sneering now, “Don’t you go cursing at me, you think you’re better than me? Huh? You think because they all trusted you and your heroism that that makes you better than me Steve?”

“I didn’t mean it like that Bucky.” Steve acquiesces. James takes a pause, “I’m the only one who actually knows you Steve Rogers.”

You shudder at the intensity in which they stand. James words eerie as he speaks them with a chill. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You step back, unaware of your steps. The crunch of leaves and twigs makes them sharply turn. James cheshire grin makes your cheeks got hot, Steve’s blue eyes fill with relief.

James is the first to move, but Steve is close on your heels. “Don’t come any closer.” you step back two feet for the several steps they took.

“I’m sorry we scared you doll, that was my mistake-“

“Save it.” You defensively snap. “Who sent you?” You ask them sharply, gaze shifting between them rapidly. They pause. Confusion as clear as day on their faces.

You’re stunned. Their reactions weren’t at all what you were expecting. “We came here on our own,” Steve speaks up. “I’m sorry, I should’ve went about this a completely different way.” Steve begins to plead, James rolls his eyes.

“Just spit it out Steve.” James agonizingly encourages. “Spare her the bullshit, clearly she can handle it. Right sweet face?”

You give him a pinched look, but nod anyway. His grins darkens. Steve stalls, eyes remorseful. “I- I don’t even know where to be-“

“We’ve been watching you doll.” James says proudly. “Stalking you is the right word. Stevie here has a stuffy for you,” He dramatically stops and leers suggestively, eyeing you up and down, up and down, patiently slow. “And I have to say, I have one for you too. You look great after the kid.” He winks.

You feel raw, unprepared for this kind of confession, you’re completely at a loss of words. Suddenly exposed in a completely light. This couldn’t really be happening.

“No fucking way.” You utter and drop your defensive stance. “You show up to my home, unannounced, ready to what?-“ You look at them incredulously, “Kidnap me?! Terrify the fuck out of my child, because you want to get your dicks wet?”

James chuckles, Steve at least has the decency to look ashamed. James clears his throat, “You’re a smart girl. You’re right Steve,” he hums, “I like her.”

“You’re not serious.” Your blood boils beneath your skin. You feel the heat rise off you rapidly. “No no, you can’t be serious” You repeat sinisterly.

“Y/n,” Steve says your name softly. You level him with a dark glare, your vision tunnels, a red ring firing behind your irises. “Y/n,” He says your name softly again, “Where’s your daughter?”

The questions puts out your flame of fury immediately. Again displaying your hidden strengths your to her within the blink of an eye. She’s waiting patiently as you walk up to the door. You unlock the door and smile at her. She smiles back. “I knew you would come back.”

“Of course I would.” You reassure her. You run your finger over her cheek, catching a stray tear. “Mommy, you were really angry just now?” She asks slowly.

You look over your shoulder, “Yes, I was.” You look back to her, “I need you to get back down okay, stay there until I come back to get you.”

“Are we safe mommy?” She asks worriedly. You nod quickly. “We are, we’re just being followed by idiots” You admonish the two genetically manipulated men. “I’ll be back.”

And surely within the moment, you stop them mid trek in your direction. “Shit doll, don’t scare us like that.” James laughs lightheartedly.

“Is she okay?” Steve asks gently, blue eyes searching your dark ones. He’s intent in trying to gauge your reaction. “She’s fine, she’s safe.” You assure him.

“I’m sorry for scaring you both.” He apologizes. “I- I’m just sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” You tell him softly. You look between him and James. The later standing against the trunk of a tree, amusement in his eyes.

“Who are you running from if you don’t mind me asking sweet face.” James asks with a dark grin. He stands straight and walks carefully to you. You allow him to get close, and he towers over you. “Why? Don’t you know?”

“Humor me.” He challenges playfully, the mirth in his eyes contrasting the danger rolling off his shoulders. “Buck.”

“Cmon Stevie, she’s a big strong girl.” James is captivating as he speaks, but you don’t miss the way Steve comes around you, the both of them sandwiching you. You shudder, becoming overwhelmed with them so close. “Right doll?” James eyes become so soft, melting you on the spot.

You nod slowly, finally finding your words when he repeats his question. Completely hypnotized by his gaze, you don’t shy away when Steve presses himself to your back, hands firm on your arms. “Tell us babydoll.” Steve murmurs against you, lips at the top of your head.

“Ethos.”

[bewiiitched]

Sex doll (chapter seven)

WARNINGS: MDI, +18, alcoholism, violence, angst, a little of power background, fluff, smut, soft!Worst!Logan, P in V, creampie, age gap (reader mid 20's)

///////

It is only the background noise that ends up waking the mutant, and at first he sits up somewhat alarmed until his gaze travels to the end of the hallway, where the light in her bedroom is on and he can only assume that she is getting ready to go to work when his gaze focuses on the clock hanging on the wall, the fact that the room is in darkness is not a problem for him, since his senses adapt to the lack of light and he ends up deciding to sit up as well.

But the sound of the shower catches his attention and he grimaces, she is running late. He realizes this, since the light begins to filter through the curtains on the terrace.

She storms out of the room, her hair still wet and her uniform half-fixed, struggling to put on her apron, she walks blindly after turning off the light in the room so as not to wake him, her hand groping for her bag that she had left on the counter but she can't find it.

"Are you looking for this?" He mumbles, throwing the bag in her direction, the lack of light makes her not react in time, and it hits her abdomen but she catches it in time before it falls to the ground. He hears her curse under her breath.

“Did I wake you up?” she asks, rubbing the sore spot as she turns on the light, watching him close his eyes with a grimace, blinded by the sudden illumination. Logan groans, trying to adjust and lies back down on the couch, his gaze traveling to her but he doesn’t answer and sees her sigh, ending up putting the necessary things in the bag.

“Are you coming over tonight?” she asks, and out of the corner of her eye she can see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

//////////

The bar doesn't always close with him inside, sometimes he waits outside after closing time, but on this occasion, she hasn't even seen him all afternoon and it's been more than a quarter of an hour since she should have closed but there is still the same group of men who had arrived hours ago and were still getting drunk, some sitting at the bar while she was busy cleaning the tables and she had already wiped down the pool table only for them to use it again a while later.

Disguising her frustration was not an easy task, and the temptation to talk to his boss about reducing her hours was starting to sound better and better, one would think that she would have managed to control herself with months she had spent on the project, under Francis' supervision, but the reality was that everything had gone quite downhill since her desertion, trauma and containment surfacing even years later.

Logan's addition to her life had been chaotic, comforting too, but there was still a part of her that was reluctant to the closeness she was taking with him, as he had even opened up to tell her things about his past in his dimension and she had barely detailed her life.

The sound of breaking glass makes her raise her head abruptly, squeezing the cloth in her hand until her knuckles turn white and she only has to breathe slowly as her only option, out of the corner of her eye she sees the broken bottle of cheap alcohol they had ordered, and she gets up to reluctantly go get the broom and mop, she still hears them talking in a mix of screams and laughter about the situation.

It’s hard not to look at the clock as she approaches them to clean up the mess, and her patience begins to wear thin when one of them snatches the broom away from her under the pretense of cleaning up the mess, she barely has time to reprimand him under her apologies when she feels a hand on her forearm and instinctively her body tenses, holding back her powers.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you to get hurt.” His grip is shaky from all the alcohol in his system, but that doesn’t stop him from tightening to the point of pain as she reluctantly struggles, wrinkling her nose at the smell that could almost make her drunk as well. The laughter intensifies and she begins to see red when she feels his fingers brushing through her hair with the hand that’s not on her, her power kicking in and enhancing her reflexes along with her senses.

“Get your fucking hands off of me. ” She hisses through her teeth, and she can feel the lingering tingle of her power but they keep laughing, and in the background her phone is ringing, the call waiting to be answered, when he roughly pulls her closer, and his hand travels to her jaw trying to kiss her.

It’s not like they could register it with all they’d had to drink, but the movement is fast and her hand connects with his cheekbone with such force that his head snaps to the side and he goes back a few steps, staggering and dazed. Angered by the idea of ​​involving her powers, her breathing is labored. “Everyone out.”

It’s all she says, and the laughter stops when the rest hear him curse, the mark of her hand red and prominent on his cheek as they drag him out ignoring his tirade and insults, their gazes travel to each other, suddenly in a hurry to leave.

She hears the jingle of the bell and strides to the door locking it, a frustrated cry leaving her mouth as she grabs a bottle from the shelf and the taste of alcohol makes her shudder, the burn in her throat familiar and she can feel the tickle turning into a sharp pain, her powers begging to be released on someone other than herself and when she looks at her hands there is a persistent tremor.

Humans had never been a threat to her, not when they were so weak to pain and so susceptible to pleasure. Even most mutants eventually gave in, except for those like Wade or Logan where the temporary solution was to keep them paralyzed and even then the disadvantage of their regenerative factor was too much.

She swallows, bringing the bottle to her lips again and feels everything spinning at the thought that she could have lost control,

She is more than halfway through the bottle when her gaze travels to the clock, more than half an hour since it should have been closed and it is not until almost another half hour later that she finally arrives at the apartment after having finished cleaning completely.

(...)

The darkness welcomes her and it is not difficult for her to notice the second heartbeat in the house and its characteristic aroma when her senses are still accelerated despite her attempts to calm down she still remains in a loop, the alcohol does not do much to numb her.

Part of her hopes to get to the bedroom without waking him, trying to avoid the situation this morning, but as she slowly closes the door sideways she realizes, thanks to the moonlight that enters through the curtains, that he is quite awake.

“Damn it, Logan. ” she grunts, feeling her heart skip a beat when she sees his gaze fixed on her. But he shifts his attention to the clock on the wall and then back to her.

He doesn’t say anything because he senses her annoyance in waves, enhanced senses or not, her expression is filled with frustration and he shares it, part of him feeling responsible for not having accompanied her in whatever happened. The smell of alcohol doesn’t go unnoticed either, which adds another layer of complexity because up until now he had never smelled it on her until after the day was over, which makes his suspicion grow.

“I called you.” It’s all he says, his tone cautious as he watches her undo her apron and leave it on the chair. Her guilty look lets him know that she hadn’t even looked at her phone and he runs a hand over his face, pushing back the hair that bothers him. “Doll.”

She sees him sit up out of the corner of her eye, causing her to shudder. The smell of alcohol can be mixed with the aroma of that group of idiots, but the handprint on her forearm is still present.

“I’m fine, I was just late cleaning up.” she answers, and her tone would be enough to stop the conversation, but Logan has never doubted his senses and the way he approaches makes her curse under her breath when his hand closes on her wrist, extending the arm that was marked.

There is a low growl that makes even her recoil, and for a second he says nothing, raising his darkened and questioning gaze.

“Leave it be-” she begins, looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and tiredness.

“Fuck it. What the hell happened?” He asks, with clenched teeth and she twists her wrist, managing to get away, making him frown.

“There was this group of drunks, but I'm fine-” His gaze flickers between her and the room, lost in his annoyance and this time it's her who grabs his chin. “Logan, I'm fine. I'm just angry that the situation could have gotten out of hand.”

As if it were possible his brow furrows even more and she can see the gears in his head turning, studying the workings of her powers. His fists clench and his pupils widen, getting rid of the green in his eyes.

“Did you use your powers?” he asks, and he sees her tense, her lips turning into a thin line.

“No. I just-” she cuts himself off, swallowing. “I could have killed him. If he'd managed to kiss me, I could have killed him.”

Somehow his gaze softens he can feel her anguish and although the fact of what had happened echoes in his mind, his hand travels to her face and rests on her cheek. “But you didn't. ”

He whispers and he can hear the beginnings of a broken laugh dying down, turning into a grimace, disgust and self-loathing written all over her face.

“I never learned to control them. Shit, even using them on myself was kind of accidental...” She speaks, almost tempted to pour herself more alcohol. Still standing she watches him lean against the side of the couch.

“Ever since they activated I could never really stop them. ” She gulps, avoiding eye contact. “Physical contact was enough to harm someone.”

The information makes Logan tilt his head, his eyes narrowing in interest and she gives him a weak smile when she can see him opening his mouth to speak.

“I thought you said you needed to share fluids.”

She answers with a light hum, getting up to grab a bottle of alcohol that she finishes emptying before throwing it in the trash. “It's true in a way, the state in which my powers were developed only allowed me to stimulate the nervous system of others, but it was not something I could control, any stimulus I could inflict was like being electrocuted at high intensity. It didn't matter if it was pain or not, the nervous system couldn't handle it and went into shock, or cardiac arrest.”

She explains, and takes another sip, licking her lips with a look of concern. “I can't even control the intensity now. But the only solution I found was to suppress them. So many times that it finally affected me, and I don’t know if it was adaptation or just something meant to happen, but something changed in my nervous system. My senses, my reflexes improved, and I could even decide whether to feel pain or not. But after that, my powers only worked through the fluids. It’s the only way I found a balance.”

His gaze seems to consider the situation, and there is a hint of caution in her gaze when she sees him approach. Even when he grabs her chin and runs his thumb along her lower lip. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t remember ever hearing him speak so softly, despite the request, she takes a step back abruptly shaking her head and looking at him with wide eyes. But she finds the edge of the counter colliding with her back. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

Her voice comes out sharper than it should and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively, her heart hammering hard at the thought.

“The risk of your powers is no different than the one you run by being around me.” He replies, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Why? Why do you have regenerative factor? What exactly are you trying to prove?

God, you don't control them in your sleep, I can never control them. The only solution I found is to switch between stimuli and even then...”

“And you don't have one. I could have killed you any of those nights.” He growls, reaching out again and grabbing her arm, his other hand traveling to the back of her neck. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. But I don't trust myself the same way you do. ”

Before she finishes, his lips are on hers, and her protests are muffled, her hands traveling to his chest as they both feel the same tickle, but her hands clench into fists and her breathing pauses as his grip loosens, but still holds.

“You’re not using them.” He murmurs as she pulls away.

“That doesn’t mean I can control them. It’s not a risk to you or Wade, but the rest...”

“No one will ever get that close.” he murmurs, trying to reassure her and she doesn’t need any more words to know that he’s going to become a permanent customer. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Her doubt turns to confusion as she looks up, and her brow furrows into caution.

“I thought you said it was dangerous.”

He hums, wrapping an arm around her waist before kissing her again, pulling her closer to him as his other hand trails up her abdomen. “I changed my mind.”

Their kisses continue all the way to the bedroom, and he doesn’t bother turning on the light as he watches her slump back onto the mattress and wastes no time in grabbing her thighs. With the reminder that it’s her uniform, he reluctantly lets her strip before cornering her figure back against the mattress.

“Logan.” She pants, his caresses enough to dampen her underwear as his hands roam her body. He's being so mindful.

And unlike all the other times, there’s no rush or need, he simply takes the time to admire her even though a smile tugs at his lips when he notices the scent between her legs. “Don’t tease me…”

She whispers, but her voice loses strength as his hand cups her intimacy and he hovers over her with his nose running down her neck as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way to her ear. “We’re just getting started.”

A soft huff escapes her lips, and she wraps her arms around his neck. “I want you.”

She protests and watches as his eyes darken, it takes an effort to contain himself and remind himself that he’s decided to make her feel good first, but the way she looks at him makes his pants tighten. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Part of him has grown accustomed to her teasing and her gripping, the way they both fight for control until she’s decided it’s enough and she lets himself go. But it’s not like he can complain about the way now all that comes out of her mouth are pleas and moans.

Her legs wrap around his waist as if at any moment he might slip away while her hands are quick to undo his shirt and send it flying across the room before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

As his touch intensifies it is she who takes control of the kiss and her moans are muffled when she feels him pull her underwear aside and hears the metallic sound of the buckle, a wave of adrenaline runs through her and she lightly bites his lower lip before pulling away.

Her gaze drops, and she barely has time to see his erection still in his underwear when his lips are on her throat, by inertia raising her head back she can feel his cock resting against her inner thigh before the tip brushes her entrance, soaking in her excitement first as he moves up and down opening her lips, the touch against her clitoris causing a shiver to run through her.

“Put your hands on your head.” He murmurs, and doesn’t hide his smile as she complies, almost imagining her response if the situation were different. Despite her arousal and the way she grips him, he takes care to push in slowly in the absence of foreplay, and a moan escapes her mouth as she pulls him roughly into her, the tease on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t quite get to say out loud.

“Logan.” She moans, relief written all over her as he shoves herself all the way in. And she doesn’t need to say anything else for him to start moving, one of his hands closing on her wrists and his thrusts soon gaining depth despite the slowness. The moans in his ear send a shiver through him and his grip tightens as he tries to hold back, every fiber of his being resisting to fuck her until she’s a senseless mess beneath him.

She’s not far off when his mouth catches her nipple and he hears her gasp, his free hand catching her other breast before pinching it, feeling it harden between his fingers, his hand squeezing it as his tongue wraps around the other.

“Please.” She moans, and the desperation in her voice makes him close his eyes, he can feel her walls clench around him and his hand moves down to her clit, his thumb making circular motions as he feels her release and bend her legs on either side of his hip. “F-Fuck, please let me come.”

There’s no part of him that wouldn’t let her do it, but he decides to shut up and his thrusts become rougher when he feels her tremble around him and he can feel his own release approaching. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes! ” she can feel the familiar tug in her abdomen, building up but not enough and he would continue to tease her if it weren't for how his own member was beginning to throb, not wanting to cum without feeling her.

Tightening around him, two fingers press against her clit in upward strokes as he enters her until his balls are pressed against her hip. “Come on, kid, cum for me.”

Her body inevitably tenses and he presses his lips together, swallowing his moan as her walls trap him, and he’s quick to follow, filling her while still feeling the spasms of her orgasm.

Her breathing is still labored as she feels him brush her hair away from her face, pulling out of her. “Better now?”

He whispers, and with the way he looks at her, she’s not sure whether to make the worst sexual comment that will put Wade to shame, or kiss him until he sees if he might die of asphyxiation.

“It would be better if you stayed to sleep next to me.” Is what she actually says, watching him get off of her and place himself, indeed, next to her.

//////////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[volturitrash]

Volturi, not ✨️gods✨️ but likes to believe they are: What a wonderful surprise

Alfie, deviant with godlike powers: I was promised churros and hot guys

Aro: Bella is alive after all and Jane has brought us a gift

Alfie: The only gift you're getting is a knuckle sandwich and hellfire

Caius: *red string of fate strikes*

Alfie: No

Marcus: It is to my knowledge, dearest brother that-

Alfie: NO

Marcus: they are mated

Alfie: mated my foot you brainwashed excuse for a vampire. Who tf turns into a glitter fairy under sunlight what nonsense am I in right now??

Alec, definitely did not question the sparkly factor: you are under the scrunity of the Volturi it would do you well to-

Alfie: make myself king and get this nonsense over with? Yeah I've got a doctor's appointment in the next 12 hrs and I've never seen Carlisle angry and I don't wanna see it now.

Aro:

Caius, the local yandere: No

Marcus: But yes

Alfie: Can I go home? I'm going home *opens portal to god knows when*

[dearest-painter]

Okay yk what call me tmnt anon because I'm on a roll w this au/hj

Want some angst? ( kinda) the spider crew meets the spider mutant!reader BEFORE their mutation and all have their time to bond with the reader like peter B definitely took reader too all the best fast food places and spent hours showing them photos of ( their little sister) Mayday trying his best to convince them it would be cooler with the spider gang as they could have friends their age.

Miguel and jess would be there for the reader in their own way either miguel teaching them Spanish or jess cooking or teaching reader life lessons.

Gwen and hobie would try to teach the reader to play their respective instruments and miles and pav would be there every second they Could to hang out with the reader whenever leo and mikey weren't on their tails .( also spider gang hangouts don't stay spider only hangouts for long because donnie defo has a tracker on the reader )

But one day all that bonding all that sneaking off to hang out stops because the reader just disappears from their usual spots their apartment? Empty

And the spider gang goes to interrogate the turtles only to see reader newly mutated they still look the same (ish) but w more eyes, fangs and spider like arms..

This not only gives the turtles an advantage over the spider gang because who can protect the mutant reader better than other mutants!

TMNT Anon I love this so much, NEVER STOP SENDING THESE IN I LOVE THIS AU SO FUCKING MUCH!