#or telling Colossus her dad says he's a bitch

[seconds-2-midnight]

LENORE OR TOAD HOLDING BABY CONNIE

WHY CHOOSE WHEN YOU CAN HAVE THE WHOLE TOYNBEE FAM

(Ghoul's handsome Toad design, my OC Lo/Geiger, and their wee lil rainbow baby Connie in all her four-eyed, four-fingered, irradiated glory. She's cute now but once she learns to speak, she's gonna be a MENACE. She only has four fingers because her mom stole the other two. RIP - rest in pinkies)

[moonbaby26]

(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)

Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 2) *contains some smut*

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, this is the conclusion from the previous part here. After your semi-disastrous double date night, you, Peter, Kitty, and Colossus head home with Deadpool and Russell in tow to face Logan, Charles, and Erik back at the mansion. You also get some well earned alone time with Peter at last, only to go back to chaos the following morning with Peter confronting Gambit, and Deadpool popping back in.

Warnings: It’s still a bit of Deadpool and all that entails, but only at the beginning and end. *In this part there actually is some Peter x Reader sex.* But you’re welcome to skip over that if uncomfortable with it. I clearly mark in red before and after any smut within the story so readers can choose what to read and still enjoy just the fluff and character interactions before and after if wanted. ❤️

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

The ride home was surprisingly quiet actually. Colossus driving, with Kitty sitting shotgun in the front with him. Russell was in the second row seat behind Kitty, but the seat that normally would have been behind the driver had been taken out specifically with Colossus in mind to let his seat sit further back with his large height.

That just left the third row of three seats. With Peter still not in the best mood, you’d chosen to sit between him and Wade. But they’d mostly just been snacking on the cannolis the whole way home rather than saying or doing much of anything else.

You’d only eaten two in all, hungry but not wanting a stomach ache from the sweetness. You’d felt your own phone buzzing in your pocket most the way home too, but you refused to look at it yet. You could only imagine which friends were trying to call or text you about whatever was being said on TV and the internet now.

Kitty only told you that she’d messaged Xavier to tell him you were all on your way home. But you weren’t sure if she’d warned him about Deadpool and Russell coming with you. Or if she’d kept her phone out at all either afterward, afraid of what the Professor might say in response.

It could have been worse was what you kept thinking. It had been worse actually. Deadpool had once killed an Essex House staff member on live TV, while wearing an X-Men shirt, and with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead also in camera view. But, given that that trouble had already come from him once, would the Professor be harder on you all this second time around? Would he still think you handled the situation as well as you could have or not?

By the time you felt the familiar turns up the long drive to the mansion, you realized that the period for anxiety was over. Whatever would be would now be.

Colossus had decided to park right in front the main entry doors instead of pulling down into the garage. Mostly just in case Wade’s welcome wasn’t a warm one. He could step right back outside if needed instead of already being in the depths of the compound.

Russell was actually the first one to speak though as you all climbed out the vehicle in front of the well manicured landscaping and dim accent lights.

“Holy shit, he is a rich son of a bitch.” The boy spoke, gaping a little at the sheer size of the mansion and the number of floors still above you.

“The cursing, Russell, please.” Colossus reminded. “There are younger children who live here.”

“Though they should be in bed,” Kitty responded, albeit sounding doubtful herself as she started up the entryway stairs.

They might normally be yes, but probably not if the rumor mill of tonight’s excitement was already burning through the place.

“Well I’ve actually never seen more than three people anytime I’ve been here. So there’s that,” Deadpool quipped.

“Yeah well, we were probably busy.” Peter retorted.

“Oh? Well yeah, maybe you were.” Wade replied, eyeing Peter. “Here’s a thought though, Peters. Maybe next time Ryan Murphy calls, just say N-O. No means no, right?”

“What-” Peter started to ask, but then thought better of it. It really wasn’t worth trying to piece together anything else Deadpool said into something more sensical right now.

As Kitty pushed open the doors and you all strode into the large foyer in front the main staircases, you weren’t sure what would be awaiting you. But the immediate, utterly ecstatic squeal that erupted from Deadpool next had all of you jumping before a gruff voice responded from up on the second floor landing.

“You have to be goddamn shitting me. You actually let that idiot follow you home?” Logan responded, the odd mix of disgust and annoyance so clear on his unshaven face.

“I thought you said no cursing here,” Russell complained.

“Logan is sometimes another matter...” Colossus attempted to answer with some neutrality, even as Deadpool was now bounding up the stairs towards the older man.

“Finally! Finally! I don’t even care if it’s just Tumblr and like two people and their FBI agents will see this! Beggars can’t be choosers! I missed you so much, papa bear!”

You stood there staring in complete disbelief, Deadpool looking as if he was actually going to try and hug the Wolverine.

You were likely all of the same mindset about the only way this could possibly play out, but Colossus was the only one to speak, pleading really. “Please, Logan! No blood on the inside of the house! You know how badly it would stain the floors!”

But Wolverine only growled, claws already aimed as Wade stopped just millimeters short, the metal tips now grazing the mercenary’s throat. “You heard him, Wade. Don’t give me a reason and you won’t be having to regrow limbs tonight.” Logan replied.

“You salty old bastard. We haven’t even seen each other in ages, you won’t return my calls, and this is the welcome I get?” Deadpool pouted.

“You’re bad luck walking, Wade. These kids don’t need you hanging around here for long.”

“Oh, and you’re such a tasteful role model. Grandpappy Wolverine teaching a class on cigar chain smoking, and stabbing your problems away this semester?”

“The fuck are you on about? How many people have you killed this month alone, Wade?”

“Twenty four and a half, thank you. And ask me how many of those never killed or raped someone themselves. How many the police never would have touched. What do you think I’ll say there?”

“Reason it all you want, bub. You’re just a wack job vigilante.”

“This could go on all night.” Kitty sighed. “Logan! Where is everyone else? We brought Russell with us, we need to take him to the Professor.”

Wolverine only softened slightly at Kitty’s voice, answering her. “Charles put in a curfew tonight, all students back to their rooms. Wade’s not allowed past the entrance, but the Professor is waiting for you in his study.”

“Discrimination.” Wade huffed, yet then posed in a mock seductive look. “But if you wanted me alone tough guy, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Please do not make a mess, Logan. We will be back to collect him as soon as we can.” Colossus said with some concern, you all just starting towards the hallway that lead to Xavier’s office.

“No promises.” Logan called back before continuing, louder then so you could hear him even as you walked away. “And hey, Peter-”

“Yeah?” He answered back from your side, glancing over his shoulder at Logan.

“Your dad’s here, kid.”

Peter paused in his tracks, staring for a moment. You could see the emotions process through him before he took a deep breath. There was nothing more that any of you could do though. He just lifted a hand up in a wave of acknowledgement, finally starting to walk again. “Thanks for the warning,”

Even in all that had happened through the years though, going to see Xavier like this still brought back an odd sense of childhood. And that little feeling of dread to be honest. Not because you really thought he would be angry, but because you worried that you may have disappointed him. Which would have always been the worse of the two options in your own mind.

Colossus was the one to slide the ornate pocket doors open, you all trailing in behind him as you entered the study.

It was warm inside, the fireplace crackling and dancing. That fire was the only light besides a couple small table lamps and a TV now on mute, but still running the late night news.

You were but weren’t surprised to see Erik sitting there as well, a short glass of what looked like scotch in one hand. There was a chessboard as well, positioned between himself and Charles on a little table, the pieces clearly still in play.

As the TV flickered again though, you glanced back to it reflexively. You saw an exterior shot of the restaurant you’d been at only a short time earlier, now with police tape all around. It cut to a video of Colossus walking up to police cars with Giovanni in hand, but then just as quickly the flashing red and blue lights changed to the white flashes of cameras and yourself and Peter talking before the sudden kiss. You only looked to the floor in renewed embarrassment then, choosing not to read the ticker captions currently scrolling beneath the now looping video.

“Hey, Dad...” Peter said somewhat unsure, but still the first to speak. He’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket now, as he often did when nervous. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

“Peter.” Erik answered plainly though, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back down. “I only arrived this afternoon. I had been hoping for a quiet evening.” He looked briefly towards the television, but then coolly back to Peter. “But here we are aren’t we?”

“Erik,” Xavier warned lightly though, no doubt sensing Peter tense further at the tone.

“They aren’t children anymore, Charles.” Erik responded sharply. “And it never should have been allowed to get to this point. I told you from the beginning that they should have worn masks, they should have been discreet. Trying to craft this foolhardy public image of the new X-Men as some celebrity clean up crew for humans’ mistakes, it’s making a mockery of us all.”

The exasperated breath that came out of the Professor next told you that this was far from the first time that this subject had come up as a point of contention between the two. But the rest of you were quite helpless whenever Erik and Charles would start to argue in front of you.

Xavier countered, “As I have also said before, Erik, we all knew there would be some negatives from moving more into the public eye with our team. But how can mutant kind ever be accepted for who we really are if we only kept slinking in the shadows for the rest of our lives? It’s no different than Raven showing herself on camera all those years ago. You know what an impact that made on the youth in our community then.”

“But the humans are fickle. The magazines and the talk shows only jest at you now. What happens when they turn on you? When my son’s face is only on a wanted list in a database, Charles? What then?”

The anger and protectiveness flaring up in Erik’s tone only made the room even more uncomfortable, yet you didn’t find yourself surprised. Peter’s relationship with his father would never be an easy one, but you knew in the end that Erik did feel a sense of responsibility towards his progeny. And hell have mercy on anyone who did ever truly harm Wanda, Peter, or Lorna and word of it get back to their father.

Charles remained patient though, likely understanding those paternal emotions all too well himself. The Professor treated you all as well as his own after all. “The ones that wish to harm us already knew who we were, Erik. They don’t need to pick up that gossip drivel to find us. We protect ourselves by staying together, as we always have. They want us, then they’ll have to face us all. And Lord knows even gods have tried.”

Erik frowned, and for a moment you wondered if Xavier was saying something more to him telepathically. Something to make him finally quiet or at least agree to postpone the argument’s continuation for later in private.

Regardless of whether your instincts were correct or not on that, their conversation did end abruptly then. Charles switched to a warmer, but still slightly tired tone as he looked back to the rest of you. “Well, I know you’re all ready for tonight to be over. I won’t keep you much longer. Kitty, if you could make sure that weapon you confiscated ends up locked in Hank’s lab tonight, we’ll see about it later. Given that those men would not need something so extravagant just to dispose of other humans, I’m certain it was developed or at least purchased with our kind in mind. We will learn what we can.”

She nodded in agreement before he then turned his attention to the, to this point, uncharacteristically silent Russell with a kind look. “And Russell, I appreciate you deciding to give us a second chance. You’re welcome to stay of course. Did you still wish to speak to me? I know it’s late. Don’t feel obligated to stay and talk if this is all a bit much right now. We can always go over more about the school in the morning.”

“Um...” The boy blinked, not quite ready it seemed for any of the focus to be back on him so soon. And it was only then that you realized it was Erik that Russell kept staring at as he tried to formulate a real response. Actually Erik and briefly back to Peter, that tell tale look on the boy’s face that you’d seen so many times before when people realized who Peter really was, who his father was. Russell was maybe even regretting picking on Peter earlier now.

Charles certainly hadn’t missed that though. Surely sensing all the boy’s thoughts and feelings now as he continued. “It’s alright, Russell. Yes, Magneto does stop in here from time to time. We’re old friends. Yet I hardly think you should be so concerned with him when you’ve already gotten on quite well with my stepbrother haven’t you?” Xavier was actually smiling then. “To get on the Juggernaut’s good side, if even briefly, is quite impressive I must say.”

That did seem to finally break the ice a little then as Russell looked back to Charles. “Yeah, I... I needed a prison friend. A big one.”

“He is that, certainly,” The Professor responded. “Yet to answer the other questions still running through your mind -and forgive me to read you- but of course you can absolutely train with us to better learn to control your fire powers if you’d like. And yes, you may also have a television in your room. I think that’s a reasonable request after living in less than desirable conditions with Wade for this long.”

“Yeah, there were rats and the old blind lady sells cocaine.” Russell answered so matter of factly that the rest of you, minus Charles who was evidently now fully aware of Russell’s recent memories, all just stared.

“Despite his, ah, unique flaws, I can say that Wade would never willingly let anything happen to you.” Xavier just continued. “But yes, it would likely be best to give you a bit more sanitary and less illegal living conditions. And of course this would all be voluntary, if you find you don’t like it here after all, you’re always free to go as well.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Russell agreed. Though not really sure what else to say.

“Wonderful,” Charles just looked back to Colossus and Kitty then. “Can you two please see Russell to one of the empty rooms so he may pick one out to sleep tonight? And please let Wade know of his decision to stay for now.”

Colossus spoke up though before they all walked out together, “And am I sending Wade home as well? I do not think he and Logan can be peaceable for a whole night in the same building.”

“Agreed. Like oil and water there. I would prefer not to have to repair cerebro again either, as we’d had to from his last stay with us.” Xavier looked apologetic though to Colossus. “Is it too much to ask that you offer him a ride back home tonight?”

But Russell just cut in before Colossus could respond. “Nah, Wade already called a cab to meet him back here before we left town. You can just dump him outside now. Let him be their problem.” But even Russell knew to elaborate a little. “And it’s not some random person he might scare off. It’s his friend Dopinder. But you might want to give him some money first. He never pays the guy. Wade doesn’t carry a wallet. Tightwad.”

Kitty sighed. “I’ll cover it. I have cash. Never got to eat or pay for our dinner after all.” She glanced to you and Peter briefly. “Maybe next weekend?”

“We can try,” You offered quietly.

She smiled, understanding that sentiment that you all might want to lay low for awhile after this fiasco of an evening. “I guess we’ll see how we feel. Night, guys.”

“Night.” You and Peter responded to her in unison.

When Kitty, Colossus, and Russell had left the room, you happened to glance back at the TV, though you were at least a little relieved to see the news had finally gone off and by the captions it was just some talk show host joking about whatever a bigger idiot politician had done now.

But Peter’s voice brought your attention back to him.

“Are we free to go too?” He asked cautiously, maybe even more uneasy now that it was just the four of you as he looked to his father and Charles.

The two older men exchanged a glance of their own as silence hung for a moment.

Erik sighed eventually though to break it. His voice serious, but lacking it’s usual coldness. “You can’t keep diving into everything headfirst, Peter. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He seemed to be studying his son’s face a moment. “And what are those bruises even from?”

“I, uh...fell down a flight of stairs.” Peter answered, taking a breath as if to steel himself for further scolding, obviously that admission only adding to his father’s point.

Yet you interjected before Erik could respond. Before you could help yourself, as it wasn’t fair for Peter to be singled out here. “I’m the one that told him to go to the basement.” Normally Scott was mission leader, or maybe Ororo. This wasn’t a role you were used to, but you’d take responsibility where it was due tonight. “I thought it would be safest for him to go first, to disarm them all, but-”

“But you sent him straight into an ambush.” Erik countered. And when his gaze shifted to you with those words, it was clear that even after this long, it still had an effect. An intimidation factor that you could only hope didn’t show through in your expression.

But it was Charles that came to your defense. “That’s a gross over simplification, Erik. Peter had already examined the area on his own accord moments before to no harm. There would have been no reason for them to think he couldn’t return to it.”

For Xavier to already know that level of detail, meant he’d already searched you and Peter’s minds tonight as well, just as he had Kitty about the gun. Which honestly was okay with you as it meant you wouldn’t have to really explain everything that had happened and risk making things sound even worse.

But Erik was still staring at you both, looking displeased.

Peter shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Look, if you’re going to yell at me for what I did on TV, then just get it over with. It wasn’t (Y/N)’s fault. I was the one that made us stay as long as we did, and I was the one that got pissed off at what those guys were saying. It’s always like no one can believe we’re still together. Like I have to keep proving it.”

That admission actually did catch you off guard. Especially to be said here in front his father, and well in all honesty sort of stepfather that Charles was for all intents and purposes. You immediately felt you should say something, but were even further stunned when Erik beat you to it.

“Peter, for God’s sake. You may have problems, but I assure you that (Y/N) is not one of them. Quit being so dense, boy.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d actually just received a rare semi-compliment from Erik.

But Peter just rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. Yes, I know that. I’m saying how do I make everyone else know that? Some fatherly wisdom would be great right now.”

Erik frowned, looking annoyed at Peter’s reaction. “I’ve told you before, I can’t teach you self-confidence, no one can. Though I’ve always been willing to fight for what I wanted. That’s a start.”

“Erik, no.” Charles interrupted. “Peter, we all question ourselves from time to time. But when it comes to relationships, nothing going on on the outside will matter as long as you focus on keeping things strong between the two of you. Weakness there is the only way those outside troubles can get in to break things down.”

“Oh typical, Charles. So it’s still turn the other cheek to everything else then? Pacifism is not how love is won.” Erik replied, now staring back at Xavier.

“Love is not a thing to be fought over, Erik, and neither is (Y/N). People are not trophies to be claimed.” The Professor responded, meeting Erik’s gaze easily.

“Okayyyy,” Peter said, glancing to you and the no doubt really uncomfortable expression on your face now. “I think we’re just going to go to bed now.” His voice was getting a little quicker as he touched your arm as if to usher you out with him. “We’ll be more careful next time, we learned our lesson, so sincerely sorry and humbled, good nigh-”

“Peter.” Erik called back though before you could both reach the doorway.

Peter looked back reluctantly, only to see Erik now holding up a phone.

“Do at least message your sisters tonight to tell them you’re alright. As refreshing as it is to be receiving so many calls from them this evening, it’s only you they wish to speak to.”

“Uh, sure,” Peter offered, a little surprised. “I haven’t even looked at my phone. I will. Night!”

“Good night.” You also managed, speaking back at least politely to the two men just before Peter hurried you out into the hallway.

——————————

You’d both chosen to take one of the other halls afterward, as to avoid the front foyer and any drama that may still be occurring there if Wade and Logan were still facing off. There was another set of stairs at the back of the house, and it’d been a real relief not to run into anyone else on the way as you took them up to your floor.

By the time you finally got to your bedroom, you didn’t bother to turn on the ceiling light, just switching on the lamp at your bedside end table as you sat down on the bed. You pulled off your shoes, and heard Peter’s jacket already hitting the floor before his own weight hit the bed, making you bounce slightly.

“Ugh,” He said, already barefoot and stretched out behind you laying on his back. “That was awkward right?”

“What part of the night specifically?” You questioned, throwing off your own coat into a then indiscernible pile in the darkness outside of the lamp light. Normally you were the one picking up after Peter, but you weren’t in the mood to hang up or fold anything tonight.

“Good point,” He conceded. “But I was mainly thinking of Dad and Charles. Sorry to drag you into that.”

Yeah, that had been pretty weird. “Well, Xavier was just trying to help. And I think your Dad was too...in his own way. I guess.” There wasn’t a whole lot you could add to that. Peter’s insecurities could flare up from time to time still, but he’d actually gotten a little better over the years. At some point he had finally realized you really were going to stick around. It wasn’t just pretty words and passing teenage hormones.

After you’d actually started rooming together officially, you knew there had even been some joking from your friends about Magneto one day becoming your father-in-law. But you tried not to humor any of that. You were in no hurry, and felt further commitment to that level would have to be Peter’s decision. It wouldn’t be fair to put him under that kind of pressure.

You knew he had reservations on the subject when none of his father’s marriages had ever worked out. He wouldn’t say it outright, but you were sure Peter felt there was still some sort of family curse there that he didn’t want to tempt fate with. As if making you his spouse would be the final straw and something would come to take all his happiness away.

You felt him moving a little then as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, before I forget, group message to Wanda and Lorna...” But he paused, looking up at you with just a blank white screen on the phone. “What do you think I should tell them?”

“Peter, they’re your sisters.” You smiled, not sure why this would be a question to you. “Just say you’re fine, you’re back at the mansion, and you’re going to bed. You can always call them tomorrow.”

He made a face at that though, “What if I don’t want to call them tomorrow? They’re just going to lecture me. Oh, I know!” He smirked as if he’d thought of something clever, adding to whatever he was already typing. “Dad already fussed at me. So don’t worry about it. Wanda, tell mom the same thing. ❤️👍”

He turned the screen to show you. “Think that will work?”

“Genius.” You replied.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but sent the message before quickly turning his phone back on silent and setting it on the other end table.

You took your own phone out your pocket, intentionally not reading the number of notifications left on the home screen as you also set it to the side before standing up to take your pants off.

You’d just slid them down, trying to step out of them when a sudden pinch to your backside almost had you stumble forward, one foot still stuck in a pants leg.

“Speaking of ass...” Peter teased, pulling his hand back before you could smack it.

“So the cannolis gave you a second wind, huh?” You turned, not surprised to see that devilish grin starting as he now looked you over while you next removed your shirt. You’d think he’d be used to this view by now.

“I was feeling hopeful, yeah,” he replied, though remaining where he was in the bed as your shirt joined your pants on the floor. “Of course I am still pretty tired,” He added, “Maybe you could help me out here?”

You raised one eyebrow as he motioned to the zipper of his jeans. Oh, so this was how it was going to be? He seemed so pleased with his idea though, you couldn’t help but be amused.

***smut starts here, scroll on to skip*** “So pitiful, my poor speedster.” You said, albeit smiling as you climbed into the bed. You straddled him gently, seeing that needful look already beginning to cloud his eyes as he still laid on his back beneath you.

You were tired yourself, and hungry still, but you’d survive until morning. This effort for some physical intimacy seemed worth it to at least end this bizarre night on a good note for the both of you.

And you knew you both wanted it. He might be making a play that he was going to make you do all the work right now, but you highly doubted he’d have the self control to not jump in once things actually got going.

You pushed his shirt up, running both your hands up the sides of his torso. Like anyone would expect for someone as fast as him, he was built lean, though there was sinew there. Just that bit of muscle, storing all that energy, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

The room was cool. It was still winter and the high ceilings didn’t do much to keep heat near the floor. You knew your hands would be a little cold as well. So you willed just the slightest bit of your energy field from your palms, warming them as you stroked his chest. You could see the bit of bruising here and there from his earlier fall, but luckily nothing extreme.

He relaxed his head into the pillows behind him, clearly enjoying the feel even as you heard his breathing increase slightly. He liked to be petted, but you knew it would be too much of a tease for him if you focused above his waist for too much longer.

You left his shirt pushed up to bare his abdomen to you, even as your hands ran carefully back down, stopping at his belt. Never quite the typical guy when it came to fashion, it wasn’t a normal peg and hole type, but actually an old seatbelt buckle. You undid it with a click, pulling it out through the belt loops of his pants as he arched a little to take his weight off the back and fully free it.

Once that was out of the way, you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with little fanfare. His normally loose boxers were already a little tighter though you noticed.

He made a noise, shifting into the touch as you cupped him with your hand. You massaged the area through the fabric, feeling him gradually stiffen as you got a little more forceful.

By the time he was fully erect, it was all too simple to slip him through the now stretched open flap in the boxers.

You had been intending to stroke him now, but on a whim you decided to go another route. Something a little less predictable you hoped, but what you knew he would still like. You doubted you were all that good at it really, but he’d never complained before.

And you could tell he was surprised, you heard him take in a quick breath as you lowered your mouth down on him, sucking him as he spread open his legs for you. You couldn’t take him in too deep without gagging yourself, but you tried to make up for it by moving up and down gingerly as you used your tongue as well.

It must have been stimulating enough for him though as you felt his hand on the back of your head shortly after, and felt his hips starting to rock rhythmically against your mouth.

He gave a quiet moan, he was so very hard now, but you didn’t let up. You knew sometimes, especially if it’d been a while since you’d last had a chance to be intimate together, he may actually cum fairly quickly. But if he did, then he did. You weren’t worried about whether you got anything in return tonight. Truthfully, your heart was already pounding, the heat in you building, just because you knew he was so aroused.

It was always give and take, and there was no rule of whose turn it was at any given time.

His whole body stiffened a little and for a moment you thought that would be it. But his hand moved to your shoulder suddenly instead, pushing you back as you released him in response.

You pursed your lips as you looked back up at him, that little bit of irritation still felt on them of where they’d dragged against him.

He was already sitting up though, pulling his shirt off completely before he tossed it off the bed. “Come on, babe, clothes off please.” He breathed, his silver hair falling into his dark eyes as you moved off of him and he laid back again just long enough that he could pull off his jeans and work his erection free from his boxers before they ended up cast out into the darkness as well.

While you’d been watching him, you’d also been unhooking your bra as requested, tossing that away. Which left only your underwear before you’d slid it down your legs, flicking it off too once it’d only been left swinging from one foot. He closed the small distance between you so fast then, you were sure he’d actually just used his powers before you felt his lips against yours. Desperate almost, as his tongue pressed through immediately afterward.

You shivered, not expecting the feel of his fingers against your entrance almost simultaneously. Just two of them, moving methodically against you. The room felt far from cold now. But you were just kissing him equally as hard now as he started to push his fingers in further, testing your readiness.

By the time you trembled again from his probing, you knew you were fully wet enough. It was a mutual realization evidently as he broke the kiss, urging you to turn so your back was facing him as he moved behind you on the bed.

You understood what he wanted as he kneeled behind you. You let yourself lean down onto your elbows in the pillows, but also on your knees in the back as you felt him grab your hips from behind. You arched your back, curving your back downward to help angle yourself into him as you felt his tip pressing into you.

As wet as you were now, he only had to try a couple times before he was able to slide fully in. To the hilt so to speak as you felt his torso now pressed flush against you. Already that slight sheen of sweat was starting where your skin touched together as he began to thrust.

The bed was creaking, and you bit back a moan of your own, never quite sure how thick the walls really were in this house. It was kind of an unspoken thing that as long as precautions were taken, and the others in the house didn’t have to hear or see anything you did in the privacy of your own room, then no one would care if people coupled up. For the two of you, precautions only meant a birth control pill, not worrying about condoms any longer after several years of monogamy.

His thrusts were getting even more uneven though, which told you he was close to orgasm. But you couldn’t help but push back against him yourself, panting a little as you felt him grab and squeeze one of your breasts. He was supporting himself with his other arm as he leaned forward suddenly, still inside you as he nipped you lightly on one shoulder, then kissing the same spot before he breathed in your ear.

“How do you always feel so good?” He murmured.

As he let go of your breast, you felt his hand go back between your legs. Even though he was still buried fully in you, his fingers went back to teasing the outside. The over stimulation left you shuddering, and you knew he was trying to get you to orgasm first.

His fingers just kept moving as he started to thrust again. You loved that feeling of fullness, when he was all the way inside, but it was the added teasing of his fingers where you were most sensitive that finally sent you over the edge. Your muscles inside spasming around him then as that unmistakable burst of euphoria went through you, leaving every piece of you trembling.

He clearly felt your orgasm, only moving both hands back to your hips then. Pulling you back against him as he thrust roughly several more times, enough to get his own release as you felt his erection pulse in its own right, knowing he had then let go inside you as you felt that warmth already dribbling back out onto the bedsheets.

Even though you’d started the foreplay, he’d done most the work for the finish. Yet you still felt spent now, only rolling onto your back after he pulled out, trying not to let too much of his seed run back out of you and onto the bed.

He was still breathing a little unevenly as he left the bed only long enough to go grab a clean hand towel from the bathroom. One of those pluses of having had the mansion rebuilt back then was that so many more of the rooms now had their own bathrooms. And after he’d wiped the residue off of himself, he handed you the towel. You dabbed up the small spot on the bed, before wiping off the remainder from your skin as well, then tossing the towel unceremoniously onto the floor with everything else.

Peter turned off the end table lamp before climbing back into the bed beside you in the darkness. The only light then coming from the moon and starlight through the thin curtains at the windows.

You were both still naked, and a little bit hot as you only pulled the covers as high as your waists, knowing the room’s cool air would chill you quickly enough now that no more physical exertion was taking place.

Hot or not though, his arms went around you as he then pulled you into a spooning position in the darkness. You actually felt that he was still about half hard too as it touched against your backside again, you now both laying on your sides with your back to his chest.

***sex over, you’re safe to start reading again*** “That almost made up for this entire night,” He joked quietly, kissing the back of your neck a couple times before you felt him smile against your skin. He moved one of his hands to trail it lightly over your hip, the sensation tickling you slightly as he spoke again. His voice was soft, a true contentment in his tone. “Love you.”

That wasn’t a phrase he said often. But the both of you seemed to save the word as to never water it down. When it was said, it made it really mean something more.

You reached down for his hand that’d been playing with your hip, grasping it warmly and weaving your fingers between his. “I love you.” You said simply, no need to elaborate on what was just a fact.

He squeezed your hand a little harder, but said nothing more, you both just enjoying the touch and comfort of each other’s presence.

You moved your head a little more into the pillows, getting just right as you closed your eyes.

——————————

Your dreams faded in and out, nothing you could remember in detail though as the sunlight on your face now had you squinting. You thought of just pulling the blanket back over your head, but your brain started to register the smell of food as well. Bacon specifically as you lifted your head a little, trying to focus.

“It lives!” Peter joked from beside you, sitting cross legged on top the blankets and just in his boxers again. Two plates of food sat in front of him, the source of the smell you realized as you sat up a little, pulling the sheet up enough to cover your bare chest in the cool room.

Very rarely did he ever wake before you, and your still half asleep stare of confusion only made him smirk a little.

“I had to pee.” He said through a mouthful of food, a sausage biscuit with a large bite already taken out of it in one hand, and a video game controller pressed down into the bed with the other. His hand with the controller was blurring slightly as he moved it just fast enough to work the joy stick and buttons simultaneously. “Then I remembered they released that new DLC last night. Had to try it out. I turned the volume down though. Considerate right?”

And it was indeed silent, not the usual grunts and blasts and screams from that gory fighting game he loved so much. His character was currently comboing another into oblivion on the small TV across from the end of your bed.

Your lack of any real dinner the night before had you focusing back to the food in front of you though.

“Go on,” Peter encouraged. “I knew you’d be hungry. It’s not all for me.”

Normally you were against eating in bed, just from the crumbs and general mess it could make. You’d had the misfortune to find the sticky remnants of Twinkies and the like from Peter’s late and early snacking many times.

Yet even as you picked up one of the amazing looking sausage and egg biscuits for yourself, you wondered if anyone else was now going without. Was it stolen goods? “Where...did this come from?” You asked, voice still a little hoarse from just waking, even as you bit down hungrily.

But the implication of your question didn’t even faze him. “Oh there was plenty. Raven told Hank he didn’t know how to cook, so guess who wins? Us when he made three damn trays of these things.”

“Sounds like she had a plan.” You responded, also grabbing a couple pieces of bacon now.

“Totally.” He agreed. “And orange juice is on the end table, babe.”

You glanced to your side, indeed just noticing the glass beside you then. “Well, you’ve been busy.” But your attention eventually drifted back to him only sitting there in his boxers after you’d taken a few sips of juice. “Did anyone even see you?”

“Nah. Maybe they felt an errant breeze or two.” But he was grinning in a way that still gave you pause.

You watched him a little while longer, only feeling more and more sure before you finally offered out the accusation. “No. You did something. Something else...”

He’d already emptied his plate now, both hands on the video game controller then as he seemed to put his focus solely back to the TV screen. Intentionally of course before he grabbed the nearby remote to start turning the volume back up.

“Peter.” You spoke anyway, knowing full well he could still hear you. “Did we not just scrape by last night without any big consequences? You’re going to put that goodwill to the test already this morning?”

“It’ll be fine.” He answered. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. His ‘fine’ and yours could sometimes be completely different things. You sighed, going back to eating the food in front of you as Peter’s character liberated the head off another in a ridiculous fountain of CGI blood.

If you could just finish your breakfast before the next possible calamity-

The bedroom door absolutely rattled in its frame with the pounding on it that almost had you spilling the juice in the bed. By the time your annoyed look moved to the spot Peter had just been, the video game was already paused. Only yourself now alone with whoever was on the other side of that door.

“Just say I’m not here!”

You couldn’t even tell where the whisper came from. Peter either hiding in the closet or maybe the bathroom, they were too near each other to tell.

“I’m not even dressed!” You retorted just to him, quite literally naked as you tried to disentangle yourself from the blankets without dumping your food plate, while simultaneously setting the glass of juice back onto the end table.

Peter said nothing more, so you could only call out that you were coming as you anxiously tried to find some of your clothes from the night before. You were able to find your underwear, and the um, incriminating towel, but that was about it. Sure it’d been dark, but how on Earth anything else could have gotten much farther or under something so quickly was beyond you. You kicked the towel under the bed, and you just had to settle for Peter’s t-shirt crumpled in your path as you grabbed it up and yanked it over your head, hurrying for the door.

You still tried to tug the shirt down as far as you could though, at least covering your panties and butt you hoped before you finally pulled the door open. Pantsless, barefoot, and probably with bedhair as you stared up into the glowing red eyes of a very irritated looking, and entirely shirtless Remy LeBeau.

His expression softened just slightly at the sight of you, his lips curling into a handsome smile. But one that didn’t quite reach those crimson eyes. “Mornin’, cher...so sorry to intrude, but I need to have a few words with that boy toy of yours.”

Yet you were staring still, taking time to process the sight before you. There was black...large black streaks all across his face. It circled his eyes in a cartoon like representation of glasses. Though he already had some stubble on his face, the streaks condensed around his mouth as well, like the upturned mustache and goatee of an old timey villain. As if he should be going to tie up some poor girl to train tracks somewhere.

“Oh my God,” you breathed. Permanent marker, seriously? How old were all of you again? “Remy, I’m sorry.” You thought about saying something about how Peter had let those paparazzi get under his skin last night. But it wouldn’t matter. Not if none of these boys were in the mood to be reasonable right now.

“You know you’re not going to catch him.” Is what you finally said. “Please don’t blow up my bedroom trying.”

“And he ain’t worth my chasin’, petite. I just want to talk,” Remy insisted though, voice as smooth as you’d ever heard it as he leaned against your doorframe in only a pair of pajama pants.

But the few playing cards now flitting between his fingers told you otherwise on his supposed peaceful intentions. Yet when he saw you look down at them, another one appeared seemingly from nowhere in his other hand.

He offered it to you, “But if he isn’t man enough to show himself, at least I get the pleasure of your company, non?”

The card was the king of hearts of course as he palmed it into your hand before you could think to stop him. But you knew it wouldn’t be charged if he was handing it to you like that. You trusted him at least that much.

Yet you were quite sure he was still only trying to lure Peter out by audibly flirting with you now. And sadly, it would probably work. “Remy, can you two just save it for the danger room?” You tried again. “It’s too early, really. I was just trying to eat breakfast.”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve been ditched, I don’t see why someone like you should have to eat all alone.” He answered effortlessly, just strolling past you further into the bedroom as if there was no awkwardness in this at all.

In a moment of panic you wondered if it’d be best to just call for backup. Your cell phone wasn’t very far. Was everyone awake already? What if you just called Rogue? That’d be the most straight forward right? Oh, but you could imagine that conversation. Hey girl, come get your man out of my bedroom please? Yet she totally would. He’d be as helpless as a toddler if she decided she was dragging him out.

“You know,” Remy said, considering a little as he palmed one of the uneaten biscuits right off the tray like it was a bauble to steal. “I did think we looked good together in those pictures they printed from the beach. It’s only natural you know. When two people have chemistry, everybody can see it.”

And that was it, the final straw. You didn’t even know why you still jumped when the bathroom door flung all the way open. The window opened too, a couple cards Remy had already thrown then exploding out there harmlessly like little fireworks as Peter had redirected them outside.

Your bedsheet seemed to have a mind of its own as it ripped off the bed and tied around Gambit as well, pinning his arms to his sides as he was forced to then kneel in front of you.

Peter reappeared at your side, looking down at his handiwork as he scowled at the other man. It was a rare expression on Peter’s face, but a little more jarring for that reason.

“Apologize to (Y/N).” Peter demanded. “Or you’re going out the window next.”

But you knew Remy’s wounded pride meant there would be no such possibility of deescalation now. They were going to have to be physically separated and given a cool off period no matter what. As you considered whether to actually put a shield around one or both of them to essentially begin preparations for mutant time out, Remy was already countering back at Peter, a mocking tone rolling off his tongue.

“Alright. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry that you got saddled with a jealous little boy who goes after rivals in their sleep rather than face them like a man. And then just hides behind that same woman he thinks they’re going to take from him, yeah?”

Oh for God’s sake! You dropped the card Remy had given you, that you’d for some reason still been holding. You powered up, trying to catch both of the guys in two of your force fields, Peter had already been in movement though. In actuality you’d only ended up shielding Remy just before Peter had kicked the field, looking as if the hit had been intended for the Cajun’s chest.

“Don’t protect him!” Peter looked to you in surprise.

“I’m protecting both of you!” You responded, then glowing white and hovering now several feet off the floor in your annoyance.

“Kinky.” A new voice spoke, followed by a sing song voice that unfortunately you did now recognize as Deadpool continued. “I see London, I see France, I see (Y/N)’s underpants!”

With your energy humming around you, Peter’s shirt you were wearing was now billowing up a little you realized. Indeed giving a full view to all those below you. You dropped back to the floor immediately, but didn’t power down, keeping the field around Remy as you turned to look at the several people now standing in your doorway.

“You know, this is exactly how those rumors start,” Ellie said in her usual dry tone, taking in the truly bizarre scene of the three of you. “Putting on some clothes might be a good first step. Or you know, at least closing the door.”

The girl otherwise known as Negasonic Teenage Warhead was never one to mince words, even to you all, her sort of superiors. Her girlfriend Yukio only stood beside her, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, don’t mind us you little OT3, I just came back to bring Russel his stuff.” He motioned to the boy, who was now also staring at you all. “And your boss Charlie X said I had to have an escort, so I got my old buddies here Nega-angst and Yukio-chan. Oh and-”

Deadpool suddenly grabbed another man who had been standing behind them, bringing him to the front. “This is my all time best buddy Dopinder, he wanted a tour of mutant Hogwarts as well.”

“Hello.” The young man waved a bit shyly. “It is an honor to meet more of DP’s superhero allies.”

“Hey.” Peter said oddly to them after a moment, then looking back to you again. The randomness seemed to have snapped him out of his fixation on getting even with Remy at least for the moment. It now looked like he was waiting for guidance from you on what to do next.

You heard an audible sigh from Remy then as he spoke up. “I rather not destroy your sheets, cher. Truce for today?”

You glanced back to Peter first though before letting down the shield. Making sure he’d agree to untie him. Peter looked reluctant still, but eventually nodded.

And with that you powered down, your field around Remy disappearing as all the energy faded back inside you. In another instant he was completely untied, the sheet semi neatly back on your bed then. You knew some of the food had to have gone flying wherever when Peter had ripped off the bedsheet earlier in their scuffle. But you didn’t really care right now.

“Woah, woah. Is that the new MK game?” Wade just questioned suddenly, then seemingly oblivious to all else as he strode into your room as well.

Why no one had any boundaries today, you had no idea.

“Wait, we get video games too?” Russell also sounded impressed, just following.

“Some of us,” Ellie replied though, giving Peter a skeptical look. “That one might have had a five finger discount.”

Peter huffed at her, non committal on the truth of that statement though, “It’s the new one, yeah. The new DLC just added more characters too.”

You didn’t even care anymore honestly as Wade pulled off his mask and hopped immediately onto your and Peter’s bed, grabbing a controller. “Dibs on Johnny Cage, mother fuckers. Let daddy show you how it’s done.”

“Hey, I want to be Scorpion!” Russell replied, actually sounding like the fourteen year old he really was for once.

And you saw Peter was already digging out another controller from his gaming pile as he scoffed at them both. “Man, you can try. I’ll wipe the floor with you and buzzcut you down to bloody stumps with Kung Lao.”

“Dopinder, google Johnny Cage combos, stat!” Deadpool requested as his friend hurried in, dutifully sitting on the floor and pulling out a cell phone to do just that.

Remy was actually the only male in the room to not be sucked in as he gave you a little look while walking back out. “Later, petite. Sorry for real about the fuss. You know he just irks me.” He leaned in a little closer just to you though. “And I know you’re faithful. He just needs to leave me out of it. Quit readin’ dem damn gossip magazines, yeah?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a smile. A little optimism returning that maybe the two of them could be reasoned with after all. “See ya, Remy.”

He nodded, winking at both Ellie and Yukio as well before he slipped past them and out down the hall. Yukio giggled, but Ellie only rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you put some pants on, maybe there’s still some breakfast left down there. Want to go?” Ellie asked you, crossing her arms. She smirked then though, the guys now commentating and mocking one another like there was some big sporting match going on just a few feet from you. “Let Wade be Peter’s problem for a while, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed without much hesitation. If Peter needed you, it’s not like it’d even take him two seconds to find you, even with the size of this house.

You did see him glance back ever so briefly as you dug some sweatpants out your dresser drawer and pulled them on though. You made an eating gesture and he nodded, understanding where you were going.

He also made a motion like drinking and you knew that meant he wanted you to bring him back some soda. The more sugar the better for him.

As you walked back downstairs with Ellie and Yukio, Ellie chuckled to herself a little. “You know Wade’s going to think Peter is his bff now. Better buckle up for that ride. Colossus can probably give you some pointers.”

You sighed, looking at the younger two girls. “We’ve survived everything that’s been thrown at us to this point. Could always be worse.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll get worse.” Ellie answered.

Yukio nodded, yet still smiling. “Wade is very special. And deadly.”

“Like a contagion,” Ellie added.

It still didn’t matter though. New, strange friends, or old sometimes combative friends. Gossip and rumors, or anything else. In the end you had to agree with Xavier as you so often usually did. As long as you and Peter kept strong together, none of that outside noise could ever tear you down. You had each other and that was all you needed.

————————

End. Thanks for reading! Art by NACCHAN96.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #259

"i went straight to heaven, but i kept on knockin’.”

What's something that makes you feel more creative? Music. What are the last three nail polish colors you wore? Wow, idk the last time I wore nail polish, but probably black or maroon. What's the last thing you binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. Do you watch youtube videos or tv shows more? YouTube is essentially my TV. Quite literally - I don't have a television in my room because I never watch it. What's a DIY project that you don't think actually works? Oh dude, plenty. I have DIY-obsessed friends online as well as a Pinterest, I know this shit, lmao. I can name one though with total certainty because I was with a friend when she tried that disgusting "YOU CAN MAKE cuPCAkES IN A C uP!!!!!" crap. It's the most eggy shit you'll ever try. Do you collect Mason jars to use for crafts? No, but I think those crafts are generally super cute. Have you ever gotten rid of something and then regretted it? If so, what? (or what's one thing?) Oh yeah, one of my biggest being my senior prom pictures, but not for the reason you'd expect (save for two pictures of us that're just REALLY fuckin cute): I want them back because goddamn I was pretty ok and I miss that now that I hate my body every waking moment of every day. :^) What color is the zip-up hoodie you wear the most? Don't have one w/ a zipper, they're ugly. Do you live in an apartment that has inspections? No. Do you hate taking naps during the day? Nooo I love naps and usually take one a day. I tend to feel really tired all over again a few hours or so after I wake up. Who in your immediate family has the best natural hair? MEEEEEEEEEEEE. Would you ever audition for American Idol? Hell no. Do you know anyone who thinks they're more talented than they are? Lol wow, this is mean. I don't think so. Do you buy gum? Rarely, even though I like it. What's your favorite dollar store?  I don’t have a favorite, I'd say? But I think we normally go to Dollar General. How many cell phones have you had in your lifetime? Maybe like, six? Have you ever been inside a Victorian mansion? BITCH I WISH!!!!!!!!!!!! I would kill to get married in one, omfGGGGGGGGGGG. What was the most boring field trip you ever want on? I don't remember a bad one. I loved going on field trips. The last time you went, what were your favorite rides at Cedar Point? I’ve never been. Which country would you most like to visit? Eeeeek idk, but probably South Africa. What are your favorite types of videos to watch on YouTube? What I watch on YouTube has become pretty diverse, but I know my favorites are easily Mark's actual big projects w/ egos 'n shit alksjdflk;w gOOD SHIT MY FRIENDS. I still love let's plays, of course! Are you a hoarder? No. Is there a guy (or girl) that you wish things had worked out with? Yes. If you were to start a collection, what would it be? I'd loooove Shadow of the Colossus stuff, particularly the amazing figures they used to have only in Japan. And World of Warcraft stuff; all I have rn is an Illidan poster and a fae dragon plushy hanging from my ceiling that Jason got me. If you were rich, what things would you get done cosmetically? Mother of god, a lot. #1, make me skinny again for the love of fuck. Which would result in loose skin being taken off and probably a breast lift because being overweight ruined my comfort with them laskdjfw. Whiten my teeth and give me laser hair removal surgery on my legs, please. Are your parents too controlling? Not at all. Who is your favorite fictitious redhead? VOL'JIN Blizzard what the FUCK give him BACK What shows have you seen on Broadway? None. Who is the prettiest Asian YouTuber that you can think of? Bitch Mark is Korean and he's gorgeous as fuck goddamn it ain't fair. But this is a weird question. What is the best news you've heard lately? When my mom got a follow-up blood test, things looked good!! She especially needed to level out her sugar, which she did well on. She also didn't lose or gain any weight, so that's wonderful. Have you ever flown first class? Hunny I am v poor. Have you ever had food SO bad in a restaurant that you sent it back? I don't believe so, anyway. Do you talk in your sleep? Very regularly now. Have you ever locked yourself out of your house? OOF, yes. Are you the type of person who can shake insults off easily, or do they tend to stick around in your brain & bother you? They stick with me for a long, long time. At least two I remember from years upon years ago. Who was the last person you cut out of your life intentionally? My old therapist that I trusted and loved when I fucking shouldn't have. Where were you raised? By who? Eastern NC, by my parents. What were your first words? "Dada." What were some of your favorite things when you were young? DINOSAURS, Webkinz, Pokemon, and Spyro, to name a few. What did you grow up listening to? Mostly country and pop music. What games did you play in the past? Spyro was my obsession, and I also loved hunting games (ironic, as irl I would never even consider it???) as well as fishing ones, plus Crash Bandicoot. What was the best birthday party you ever had? I'm not sure. How about the best vacation? I'm unsure; I haven't really been on a lot. Do you have any secrets you never intend to tell? Yup. What memory would you like to disappear from your mind forever? A nightmare I had about my dad. If you were someone else, would you be friends with the person you are now? Yeah. Do you consider yourself a smart person? No. What friend in your life has been the greatest influence to you? I don't know. Where is the scariest place you’ve ever been? What made it so terrifying? I shared a bedroom with an EXTREMELY volatile, violent woman once in the mental hospital. As in she had to go in solitary when she had a violent episode, during which she became very destructive to her surroundings, so as you could guess, I was worried about my own wellbeing. She was eventually moved because I was that uncomfortable. Did you celebrate Easter? Are there any holidays you are more inclined to celebrate than others? If so, which? Well, Easter hasn't come yet, but we'll probably go to my sister's house for the kids. We'll celebrate Christmas and Thanksgiving without fail. We don't pay much attention to others. I'd LOVE to do something for Halloween, we just never have anywhere to go/anything to do. What was the last thing you deleted? Pictures. What colors make up the majority of your wardrobe? Is there any color you like, but don’t wear often? There's black there. Oh, there's s'more black. What's that???? More bLACK????? MAN, I wish I could pull off pink. When was the last time you were in any amount of pain? I had a pretty intense headache yesterday. Who was the last person to hug you? Do you hug this person often? My niece, and yeah, every time I visit. What are you most likely to argue or debate about? The fact I almost never leave my pajamas lmao. What was the last show you watched? Have you seen it before, or is it something you’re watching for the first time? A few days back, I was reeeaaally bored and actually watched TV deliberately, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?????? It was The Witcher; wasn't bad. I'd be willing to watch more. How would you describe your taste in clothing? What would a dream outfit look like to you? uuuuuggggGHHHHHHHH let me be GOTH. Give me a corsette if they weren't notoriously uncomf with plenty of chains 'n stuff. BIG, SPIKY BOOTS. SKINNY LEATHER PANTS. UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHH. Have you ever tried snowboarding? No. What’s your favorite planet besides Earth? Saturn is dope. Would you ever be a coach for any sport? Nope. What color of eyes do you have? Blue. Do you like tacos? NOOOOOOOOO. White or red wine? Wine is gross. Do you prefer foxes or wolves? Foxes. What’s the youngest you would consider dating? No younger than 21. Do you think suits are sexy? mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Did you go to high school with your current best friend? No. What is your boss’ (or school prinicpal’s) name? N/A Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I was never really a fan. Respected him immensely as a musician, I just didn't care much about his music. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Ham. Turkey is always too dry and stringy. Do you look good in hats? I wouldn't know, I haven't worn one in forever. Never with short hair. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face's eyes? Colons. Do you like architecture? If so, do you have a favourite style or structure that you’d like to make note? Yes, and I should really have an answer for this, as architecture was a big part in Art History... Ummm Etruscan stands out, and of course Roman/Greek (even after the class I don't remember their differences well...). I love Middle Eastern architecture, too. What is one of your favorite words, in any language, and why? I just love the sound of "serendipity," as well as uhhhh "sakura" in Japanese and "kanji" in Chinese. I'm trying to think of a German one, as there certainly are some, but they're evading me right now. Where is the farthest you’ve travelled on foot? JESUS FUCK probably going to get Sara's brother from school, mother of all that is holy. But it might just feel like it because it was during the peak of my muscle atrophy in my legs. Are there any songs that you perhaps like but avoid because it makes you sad when heard? A good number. Do you like the area that you live in? What do you like or dislike about the area? NO. There's not shit to do and it's not aesthetically pleasing at all. Do you have a memory of when you really thought that you have lucked out on something? If so, what was it? Uhhhhh. A handful, I guess? Oh, uh, the suicide attempt to name one and probably the biggest. I took way too many of those pills to experience almost zero symptoms of an overdose; I did look up what "too many" was, because I wanted that. I'd say I was pretty fuckin lucky. If you have apps on your mobile phone, which one do you use the most? Facebook. Which do you like better: fantasy or science fiction novels? Why? FANTASY!!! I think it allows more creativity and possibilities of something magically "making sense" because yeah, it's fantasy. Science fiction has more "realness" to it, more, obviously, scientific elements versus make-believe. Do you like opossums? Do you think it is ethically right for others to keep opossums as pets? OPOSSUMS!!!!!!!!! ARE!!!!!!!!!! FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They're my second-favorite animals kdsja;lkdjaw. BUT ANYWAY, no, unless it's for rescue reasons. When was the last time someone asked you a huge favor or advice? Do you get asked often by this person? Oh I have no idea. Probably my mom? And no, definitely not. She hates asking for help. What are your thoughts on nihilism? I definitely get it, but it's not my personal outlook. Do you like the snow? More like love. What are your thoughts and feelings towards work/jobs in general? I don't know? I've never even had a real, steady job, so it's hard to really answer... I've only had bad experiences. It's kinda weird to me how you have to work your ass off (usually) to get a job you enjoy, as well as slave for some stupid green paper until the day you die just to stay alive and healthy. But at the same time, it offers a sense of fulfilment and is as well something productive and beneficial to the masses to do. Civilization would be very, very different and unadvanced if we were without them, so I guess it is a necessary thing. Humans gotta work together to keep where we're at. Do you believe in astrology? I've never actually elaborated why I don't believe in it so there ya go: not in the slightest. All it does is offer extremely broad characteristics that, in some light, almost anyone can relate to so they feel included in something. We naturally want to "belong" within something as social creatures, and astrology is an easy one with it being so vast. It gives equally indirect advice that can be applied to a multitude of situations, so people just mold what they read to fit their world. Don't base your goddamn life choices on the random positioning of shit in space. What is something that you’ve made/created? Do you take pride in your creations? Well, way way way too many OCs that I do indeed love a hell of a lot. If you have a Tumblr account, do you have any followers that you wish would not follow you? Well I'm sure there are bots. What kind of books do you generally enjoy to read? Fantasy stuff, mostly. But I also love novels with deep meaning, particularly about life in general. A good plot is mandatory. Does the quality of a video, on YouTube or a television, matter to you? I mean of course in some situations, like if I'm watching something educational/something to gain visual knowledge from. What is one situation that may cause you to become shy (if there is any)? Don't don't don't don't don't point out that my serious interests/things I massively love are "weird" like it's been years and I can still barely explain why my biggest tattoo is a tribute to some fuckface on the Internet lmao. When one is depressed, what can a friend do about it? Do you find that there is a good method to approach people in helping them combat depression? It is SO important to, first, ask them what they want. Do they want advice, an ear to just listen, just your presence, to be alone? As for combating depression, that greatly depends on the origin (if any) of theirs. There are so many factors in answering this question, but what I mentioned should, imo, always be the start. Do you tend to listen to music that embraces your mood or does music dictate your mood? Is it a little bit of both? Definitely both. When I'm sad though, I'm almost definitely listening to somber music too. Do you find yourself to be generally a forgiving person? I'm too goddamn forgiving. Do you have an embarrassing memory that you now look back at and can laugh? If so and if you’re comfortable, could you share one here? Omg I have a Bible-length collection of those suckers. I'd prefer not to. What is one skill that you have worked hard to develop? Is there still room for improvement on that skill? Damn, anxiety-coping mechanisms and actually trusting them to help me through attacks. I used to be convinced that they were useless because it just wouldn't work and weren't immediately effective, but you've gooooooot to trust the process, friends. What do you consider to be your main passion(s) and how did they come about? Spreading awareness of the seriousness of mental health and the comfort of knowing there's hope. You can never stop pushing. My own experience with mental health struggles is definitely the deeeep roots of that. Who do you think influenced you the most in your life so far? Why? Jason changed my life in many ways. Trauma does that. He taught me a lot about the necessity of having faith in yourself to survive on your own, a shitload about love and how it's not some fairy tale, and that people change, even those you least expect to. What is something that you have overheard people talk about that really bothered you? I could name more than a few things about race stuff, living where I do. What do you normally say or how do you normally act in response to a compliment? I usually do this shy laugh and say "thank you" with too much enthusiasm. How many books do you own? Do you have more physical books than electronic books? I've no clue where a lot of my old ones are. I have no electronic ones; I strongly prefer to read a physical book. What are your thoughts on higher education? Is it really necessary? In your opinion, what changes can be made? Depending on your aspiring career, it can be necessary, but just as easily, it can be unnecessary. I know for a fucking fact it should not be NEARLY as expensive as it is. Maybe even free, but I have no idea what monetary concerns that could cause with whoever runs the place. Have you ever received a heartfelt compliment from a stranger? Probably at some point. How many people would you consider to be extremely close to you? "Extremely"... like three lmao. Maybe one more or so. When was the last time you had to speak to a crowd? How well did that go? When I was taking pictures at a wedding last. It went okay. How would you describe your general outlook towards humanity? We by no means deserve to be the apex predator and Earth would be a shitload better without us. How long do you think you could last without any contact with your significant other, best friend, or a person whom you consider would be the closest to you? I'll use my mom here, in which case idk. I don't particularly want to find out. I talk to her at LEAST by text daily. Every day now that she can't work/is always home with me. Have you ever realised that someone was lying, but it was too late to confront them? Nope. Eventually speaking up is how I lost her, but.

[master-sass-blast]

“Myshka.”

Oh. Would you look at that. It’s 10k words long.

*sighs* On one hand, I have mild regrets.

On the other hand... I REGRET NOTHING.

Welcome back to my hyperfixation with Piotr Rasputin. This installment shows some of the highlights of you, our lovely reader, becoming “myshka” (little mouse) to Colossus.

Side note: I definitely took inspiration from @colossus-and-cable ‘s https://colossus-and-cable.tumblr.com/post/176047533623/soft-skin and https://colossus-and-cable.tumblr.com/post/176314375850/dinner-date! Obviously, I didn’t copy either piece (I ain’t no plagiarizer) but if you’re in the mood for more Colossus x Reader fluff, go check out those two pieces (and colossus-and-cable’s blog in general. They’re amazing, their writing is amazing, and they are my main supplier for my thirst addiction).

Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, strong language, and enough fluff to rot teeth.

Pairing: Piotr Rasputin x Reader.

The first time it happens, as with all great love stories, you wipe out on your ass.

Hard.

For clarification: Colossus calling you “myshka” didn’t make you wipe out on your ass; rather, you wiped out particularly hard during a mission and he called you “myshka” after he’d found you post-wipe out.

Technically, not the same, but the former way of phrasing the situation sounds much funnier than the latter, in your opinion.

The scene is set: the X-Force team is in the midst of taking down a group of mutant traffickers so they can rescue the latest group of victims.

There’s gunfire. Bullets whizzing everywhere. Lots and lots of bullets.

And, over the din of it all, Wade is cackling like a madman.

There were times where you really questioned your decision to be friends with Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. This was one of them.

You grit your teeth as Wade runs headfirst into the gunfire and use your powers to knock a row of shooters off their feet with a hard blast of wind. You’re currently pinned behind a car by way of gunfire, waiting for the others --Colossus, Yukio, Domino, Cable, Russell, and Ellie--to catch up. “Wade!” you snap, knowing full well he and the others can hear you via the earpieces issued by the X-Men. “I swear to Cthulhu, if I die from your dumbass choices, I will personally come back just to kill you.”

“What’s going on?” Colossus’s voice floods the line, strained with effort and worry.

“The fuckstick decided to set off the shooters and charge them,” You growl as you watch Wade take down another trio of criminals. “It’s a mess over here.”

Colossus mutters something about proper language before starting to rant at Wade. “Deadpool, we talked about this. The plan was to wait for rest of team before--”

Wade cut him off with an undignified shriek. “Shit! Snipers! Fuck!”

You can hear the sound the bullets, both from where you’re sitting and through your earpiece. “Serves you right, dumbfuck. I hope they hit your ass.”

“Stop bitching at me and take those cock-gobblers out! Comprende?”

You mutter a list of death threats under your breath and rise up as much as you dare.

Wade’s dodging bullets as he darts around the abandoned parking lot in front of an equally abandoned three story warehouse. Most of the shots are coming from the third level.

You assess your odds. On one hand, Wade’s taken out all the active shooters in the parking lot. You don’t have to worry about any extra people firing extra bullets at you. Plus, snipers will make it much tougher to get into the warehouse --and to the trafficked mutants--before the shippers come in and whisk them away.

On the other hand, the team’s not that far out, you don’t relish the idea of running into direct gunfire, and --candidly--watching Wade get shot at is pretty entertaining. Ten out of ten, would watch again while eating popcorn.

Ultimately, you decide you can’t justify not doing what you can to save the trafficking victims. You grit your teeth and jog a few feet back. “I’m going to blast those dipshits.”

“Y/N, no.” Colossus’s voice. “Wait for us.”

“I can’t risk the traffickers taking away another group of mutants,” You say as you line up your shot.

There. The center window on the third level. Based on the schematics, it should line up with a long outer hall that you can use to blast the snipers out of.

“No, it is too dangerous.”

“I thought that was the point of these missions.” You steel yourself and focus in, taking a second to feel the air around you. “Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“You better hope I don’t die, dumb cunt.”

And, with that, you’re off. You use your powers to propel you halfway across the parking lot, then launch yourself off the ground and through the center window.

The brief looks that you catch on the sniper’s faces before you blast them out the opposite ends of the warehouse are priceless.

You look up, ready to land --and almost have a coronary.

A wall with a decorative window is speeding towards you, and you’re not slowing down the way you thought you would.

“Shit! I miscalculated!” You barely have enough time to make a wind shield before your plowing through the window, into something that makes a vague screaming noise, and onto the floor. You roll over broken glass and metal rebar before smacking into a wall, cracking the drywall.

Pain. Lots of it. In your back, your sides, your head, your legs. You groan and almost vomit, it’s so bad. “Fuck. I hurt myself.”

“Where are you?” Colossus asks, panic evident in his voice.

“On the third level. Follow the wake of destruction and the sounds of pissed off swearing. You won’t miss me.” You let out a gasp of pain as you try to pick a few gnarly shards of glass out of your side. “Shit, I rolled through glass. Oh, fuck, that hurts.”

“Can you move?” Cable’s voice this time, considerably calmer.

You shift yourself into a sitting position --which takes an amount of effort and stomach control you didn’t know you had--and almost lose your lunch at the sight of your leg. “Oh, definitely not. Shit, I fucked up my leg. I think my knee’s dislocated.”

“You shouldn’t have gone after snipers,” Colossus growls over the sound of men screaming.

“Would have, wouldn’t have,” You grumble back. “I cleared them out for you. You’re fucking welcome.” You take stock of your surroundings --glass, glass, more glass, crushed beer cans, glass--and gasp. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Colossus again, fretting as a mother hen must.

“Is that...” You peer closer at the dark, soft looking lump and gag. “Oh shit. That’s a body. I think I decapitated a guy when I went through the window.”

“Impressive,” Wade says. “I don’t think even I’ve managed that one.”

“You had to be clocking in pretty fast to pull that off,” Cable growls over the sound of his gun firing. “How quick were you moving?”

“I don’t know, dad, let me check my speedometer,” You grumble back. You lean back against the wall and try to breath for a minute.

It’s something no one ever thinks to tell you --being in pain is exhausting. On a good day, one might need to sleep off a particularly nasty headache. Now, however, when you’ve been running around and crashing through walls? You feel like a de-boned rag doll, like a pile of slowly melting Jello, like an over-wrung wash rag.

You let your head rest against the wall --despite the fact that you’ll probably get drywall in your hair--and slowly let your eyes close. You’re so... tired...

“Hey, kid, are you still with us?”

You force yourself to stir, fighting through the layers of pain. “Yeah. I’m here. ‘m jus’ tired.”

“Uh-huh. Why are you slurring your words? Did you hit your head?” Cable asks.

“I hit everything,” You grumble. “I thought that was clear from all my cursing.”

“Y/N, you need to stay awake,” Colossus orders over the earpiece. “Falling asleep now would be dangerous.”

“I’ve got something that’ll keep her awake. There’s a group of guys on their way up to you. They’re in the stairwell, T minus two minutes,” Cable says.

That does wake you up. Adrenaline courses through your system, pushing the pain down and forcing you into alertness. You take in shallow, gasp-y breaths as you try to put together a plan. “How much time?”

“Less than two minutes.”

You scan the room, searching for something to defend yourself with or a place to hide. Your eyes lock on to the decapitated dude’s gun and an idea starts forming in your head. “How many of them are there?”

“Five. Minute and twenty seconds.”

You lurch for the gun, barely biting back a scream of pain as your force your body to move. You yank a clip off the guy’s belt and shove it into the gun, then pull yourself under a table next to the door that --somehow--survived your impromptu trip through the wall.

You almost black out from pain as you get yourself into position, gun aimed down the hall. “How much longer?”

“Fifteen seconds.”

You count down and try to breath.

Right on cue, the door to the stairwell smacks open. Five burly men dressed in black, all carrying rifles, pour into the hallway.

You clench your teeth together and open fire.

Within seconds, they’re on the ground, as dead as the guy you decapitated.

“Y/N?”

You let out a ragged breath, wipe some blood away from your eyes --you must’ve cut yourself on your way through the window--and answer Colossus’s worried call. “Got ‘em. Stupid chickenshits. How’re we doing down there?”

“Only a few fuckers left!” Wade shouts cheerfully. “Then it’s down to finding the victims and releasing them!”

You let your forehead drop against the floor. “I’m gonna need someone to come get me. I doubt I could even fly myself out of here.”

“Stay where you are,” Colossus orders. “We will have someone up to get you in few minutes. In meantime, stay awake.”

Wade helps your effort to stay conscious by quizzing you on all manner of movie and music trivia. Most of his questions are inane at best, but it does the trick. You manage to keep your eyes open until you register a series of hurried, heavy thuds on the floor, and then--

The table you’re hiding under is tossed across the room like it was a piece of paper, and Colossus kneels next to you. “Bozhe moi. What did you do to yourself?”

“Nothing any self-respecting mutant with poor math skills and even worse impulse control wouldn’t do,” You mutter back. You roll onto your back with a yelp of pain and try to grin up at him --though you suspect it just comes out looking pained. “How do I look?”

“Like shit,” Cable answers, coming into view above you. He lets out a hiss through his teeth as his eyes scan you. “The fuck did you do to your leg?”

“Dislocated it, I think,” You manage. “I would try to set it, but I don’t know if my body’ll let me bend like that. It’s pretty pissed at me, all things considered.”

“Do you want me to try to pop it back in?” Cable asks.

“No, I don’t think that is good idea--” Colossus tries.

“Do it,” You interrupt. “I’d rather that happen than have it dangling around while I’m carried around.”

“Y/N--”

“Do it,” You snap at Cable, ignoring Colossus’s pleas for you to wait to let the medics do it. “Just give me something to bite on.”

Cable pulls a bandanna out of his fanny pack and hands it to you. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

You stuff the fabric into your mouth, bite down, and take a breath.

A second breath.

A third.

You close your eyes and nod. You let out a scream as Cable snaps your knee back into place --purely efficient and unhesitating--then rip the bandanna out of your mouth, roll up onto your side, and promptly vomit.

It hurts. Everything hurts. Your body feels like its on fire.

The pain is so intense that your arms give out and you nearly drop face first into your own puke.

Colossus’s massive hands shoot out and he catches you, pulling you up and into his arms.

The sheer amount of movement makes you scream again as pain ricochets around your body.

“I’m so sorry,” Colossus murmurs as he adjust his grip on you.

“It’s okay,” You assure him, even as your body demands sacrifice and as tears stream down your face. You can’t bear the idea of this gentle giant tearing himself up over hurting you. “It’s okay, big guy, it was going to hurt anyway. It’s okay.”

He starts carrying you down the hall, moving with extra care so as not to jostle you unnecessarily. “That’s my tough myshka,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you groan as he starts carrying you down the stairs. “Diving headfirst into trouble and hurting herself in the process.” Your head lolls against his shoulder, the toll of enduring the pain catching up to you fast.

You can vaguely hear Cable talking to someone --Ellie, you think, because he’s not nearly pissed enough for it to be Wade--and confirming they’ve found you and are on their way. You can hear the metallic clang of Colossus’s footsteps, but everything sounds like your head’s underwater --distorted, distant.

You can feel yourself fall asleep with every step that your favorite gentle giant takes. Your eyes slowly start to close--

Colossus’s voice brings you back to the surface. “Stay awake, myshka. You need to stay with us.”

You blink and stare at the way the thick muscles in his neck and shoulders work as he moves. “Myshka.” The word feels awkward and unfamiliar in your mouth, but you like it all the same. “What does that mean? Does it mean idiot? ‘cause I feel like that’s a fair accusation for you to make right now.”

He chuckles --a really pleasant sound that you hadn’t noticed how pleasant it was until this exact moment--and holds you a little closer so he can maneuver you through a doorway. “Not quite.”

You hum in response and watch the metal that comprises him ripple. “I like it. It sounds pretty.” You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, relishing the way the cool metal there soothes the ache in your head. “Colossus?”

“Da, myshka?”

“I think I hurt my everything.”

He chuckles again --a little more strained this time--and carries you to the jet. “Hang in there. We will get you fixed up soon.”

The second time it happens --not the exact second utterance of the word, but the second situation the word is uttered in--you’re hanging halfway off the couch in pursuit of one particularly evasive remote.

It’s not too long after the fuck forsaken mission where you’d tossed yourself through a window, and you’ve been confined to the couch on orders of both Hank and Colossus.

All in all, it isn’t too bad. The X-Force takes turns helping you get around and playing nurse --having Neena wash your hair for you had been a borderline orgasmic experience--and everyone’s pretty willing to keep you company --especially Wade, who’ll take any excuse he can get to introduce you to trash TV.

Right now, though, you’re on your own, and you’re trying to lift the remote off the ground via an air current and fling it to where you’re sitting.

It isn’t working. Not in the slightest.

You growl as the remote flops further away from you and you glare daggers at the traitorous device. “Stupid piece of shit.”

“Myshka.”

You look up and grin at Colossus. “Hey, big guy. ‘Sup?”

He raises an eyebrow at your precarious position, half-on, half-off the couch. “I do not think you should be laying like that. Is bad for your back, to say nothing of your knee.”

“Well, I didn’t start like this. I was trying to get the remote, but Wade left it all the way over there when he switched channels.” You grimace at the dramatics on the TV screen. “Is this really considered the pinnacle of modern entertainment?”

“For Wade, yes.” He scans the card outlining your prescription times --you’d gotten the good painkillers, plus some antibiotics after your little escapade at the warehouse. “Your next dose is due. You need to eat something.”

“Would that I could, but --alas--I am confined to this couch for the time being.”

He chuckles. “I can make you something, myshka. You only need ask.”

You smile softly at him --how could you not, when he’s being so considerate and sweet. “Thanks. I’m up for pretty much anything.”

He nods and walks to the kitchen --but not before he retrieves the remote and hands it to you.

You start flipping through the channels, trying to find something decent to watch, but realize that you don’t even know what to look for. A lifetime without TV has left you with absolutely no idea of what even qualifies as good.

“You know, you might find something easier if you watch more than five seconds at a time.”

You look up in time to see his gentle, teasing smile, and stick out your tongue in response as he sets two plates on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Very funny, big guy.”

He opens his mouth to respond, the pauses to frown --specifically at your injured leg. “I thought you were supposed to have your leg elevated.”

“I tried. I can’t get it high enough without the pillows toppling over.”

He stares down at you for a moment, frowning contemplatively, before heading back to the kitchen. “Wait there. I have idea.”

“I don’t know,” You call after him. “I was contemplating a breezy flight to Las Vegas. Play the slots, cheat at the Poker tables, try to win big.”

He chuckles --a warm, deep sound that you absolutely love--and reappears with a fresh ice pack in hand. “Cheating is against the rules, myshka.”

“Well, duh. How else am I going to win? I’m not that good at Poker.” You wriggle up on the couch so you can see him better. “So, what’s this idea of yours?”

He ducks his head, looking flustered. “Well, I need to eat as well. I thought I could sit with you, help keep pillows in place, that sort of thing. Would that be alright?”

You grin up at him. “Sounds perfect.” You wriggle up the couch a little more, making space for him, and pat the now open spot. “Come join me, big guy.”

He sits --the couch groans in protest as he settles himself on the cushions--and grimaces when he sees that the TV has defaulted back to Wade’s pick of Toddlers and Tiaras. “Is... is this what you want to watch?”

You grimace with him. “No. I just... I wasn’t allowed to watch TV growing up. I have no idea what to look for, much less what I might like.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then holds out his hand. “May I? I think I might be able to find something you will enjoy.”

You hand him the remote and start in on your plate, quickly taking your pain pills before you forget to.

He’s fixed you a sandwich --delicious, you’re sure, Colossus is a surprisingly good cook--paired with some grapes, carrots, and...

You grin as you pop a unnaturally bright, not remotely flavored like any cheese you’ve ever tasted Cheeto into your mouth. “You remembered my crunching addiction!”

He nods, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Why you and Wade like those, I will never understand.”

“Hey, don’t knock ‘em until you’ve tried ‘em.” You stare up at the screen, frowning as an intro for some sort of science-y show plays. “What’s this?”

“American show called Mythbusters. I discovered it when I first came here. This is rerun from one of the earlier seasons.”

You settle into the couch with a shrug and start into your lunch. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than the shit that Wade picked.

As it turns out, he’s absolutely right. The show is amazing, and you’re genuinely entertained by watching the two hosts blow up, break, and generally destroy anything and everything that they get their hands on

And, admittedly, you can see where he was pulled into the show as well. It’s surprisingly intellectual, and does an amazing job of making the math and science going into the tests and myths accessible to the average viewer.

About halfway through the episode you’ve finished your plate and the pain meds have kicked in nicely. You giggle from the high of the medication and roll back onto the couch.

Colossus’s hand settles gently on your uninjured leg. “Easy, myshka. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself!” You declare as you flop around. Your hand smacks into the coffee table. You wince and cradle the stinging appendage against your chest. “Ow.”

Colossus helps settle you back onto the couch in a less haphazard position. “You were saying?”

“Okay, fine. I hurt myself. Happy now?”

“I will be happier when you settle enough to stop hurting yourself, myshka.”

“Myshka.” You giggle and repeat the word a few times before the buzz of the drugs makes you dissolve into laughter. “Why do you call me that? Not that I’m complaining --it sounds pretty cute.”

“Is a nickname in Russian.”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You grin up at him. “Don’t tell me what it means; I want to guess!”

“Very well.”

You peer up at him, doing your best to sift through the fog the painkillers have put you in as you try to puzzle out what he could be calling you. “It means ‘idiot,’ doesn’t it?”

He seems alarmed. “Why would I call you that?”

“I mean, I did toss myself through a wall and dislocate my leg in the process. I think it’s kind of warranted.”

Colossus shakes his head. “I would never. That would be unkind --and unwarranted.”

“Okay.” You eye him for another minute, then try again. “Fool?”

“No.”

“Lovable fool?”

“Also no.”

“Klutz?”

“It is not an insult,” he says, both amused and exasperated.

“Ah.” You grin at him. “Well, that’s nice --but I’ll have to completely rethink my strategy now. This might take longer than I thought.”

“I could just tell you.”

“No! No spoiling my fun!”

He shakes his head, smiling, and resumes watching the show.

On impulse --one which you will later admit was prompted by your growing feelings for him, not by the pain meds--you plop the pillow propping up your knee on his lap and swing your legs up so they’re draped over his legs. You flash him your nicest, sweetest smile when he looks at you, startled. “This okay, big guy?”

He nods, somewhat flustered. “Da, myshka. This is fine.”

You settle back in and finish out the episode with him, more content than you’ve been in a long time.

The third time it happens, you’ve admitted to yourself --and Wade, after some obnoxious prodding on the merc’s part--that you’ve got a crush on the metal man himself.

Which is why you’ve been careful to ensure that you’ve got a prime spot next to Colossus when you all head out to watch the mansion’s New Year’s firework display.

He has a fire extinguisher on hand, a sight that makes you laugh. “Ready for anything, eh?”

He grimaces. “Wade set up the display this year.”

You blanch. “Oh, god, is the house even going to survive?”

“Hey, have a little faith in me,” Wade whines as he skips past you to finish the final touches on the display. “I can have self control. When I want to.”

“Yeah, the question is does he ever want to?” You mutter as you watch Wade and Russell arrange the first row of fireworks.

“Speaking from experience, no,” Colossus mutters back.

“Ladies, gentlemen, noble gentry of non-conforming gender identity, and Yukio!” Wade crows from his position several yards down the drive. “Tonight is a date that technically doesn’t matter since time is a social construct, but we’re going to use it to celebrate surviving another year! That’s right, tell Death to go fu--”

“Language, Wade,” Colossus interjects over Wade’s tirade and the giggles of the younger mutants.

“Okay, okay. Take it easy, Long John Silver. Anyway, since the resident party poopers here at Casa de la Mutant have kiboshed getting drunk off our ass--”

“Wade.”

“Okay! Fine! Long story made short: fireworks! Lots of them! Cover your ears if you don’t want to wear hearing aids by the time you’re thirty!” He spins dramatically and pointed to Russell. “Russell! My man! Let it burn!”

Russell lights the fuse lines then books it to a safe distance with Wade.

You clap your hands over your ears just as the first set shoot off into the sky.

Multiple bursts light up the sky in what is a colorful, exciting, and surprisingly tasteful display, given that Wade and Russell were the ones that set it up. It takes several minutes for the main set of fireworks to finish going off. Once they’re done, Wade and Russell scamper back in to set up the finale.

By this point, you’re shivering. The New England weather in the dead of winter is none too forgiving to those who dare to venture outside without the proper protective wear.

You were contemplating running up to your room and grabbing a sweatshirt when Colossus reaches out and gently clasps your shoulder. “Myshka? Are you alright?”

You flash him a tight, ‘I’m-dying-from-the-cold-but-don’t-want-to-let-on-because-I’m-stubborn’ grin. “Yupp. A-okay.”

He frowns. “You’re cold.”

“Are you kidding? In this weather?” You feign wiping sweat off your brow. “We’re in a heat wave right now, big guy. How could I be cold?”

He laughs, then unzips the jacket he’s wearing. “Here. Use my jacket. We can’t have you freezing.”

Before you can protest, he’s draping the massive jacket around your shoulders, and oh--

It’s warm. Super warm. Like a beach in the tropics on a perfect sunny day warm.

You nestle into the jacket, sticking your stiff, chilled arms down the sleeves. You let out a happy, soothed sigh and relax a little. “Thanks, Colossus.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but ends up being cut off by a crazed screech from Wade.

“Alright, muchachos! Let’s blow this pop stand!”

You stick your fingers in your ears and keep them there until the finale’s done.

Once the smoke clears, most of the crowd does as well. Wade and Russell run off towards the back of the house, while everyone else heads inside.

Well, almost everyone.

Colossus sighs, and --with a good-natured smile--walks down the drive to pick up the remains of Wade and Russell’s firework display.

You scamper after him, far more content to spend time with him --even if it means helping with chores--than to head inside with everyone else. “Honestly, that didn’t end as disastrously as I thought it would.”

“Da. Wade and Russell were surprisingly controlled,” he agrees between coughs from the smoke.

You stop for a minute and make an air current to carry away the smoke. “There. That’s better.”

“Thank you, myshka.”

You bend to help him, but have to stop every few seconds to retuck the sleeves of his jacket so that you can physically grab onto the destroyed firecrackers. After the fifth time they slither down your arms, you drop the partially destroyed canister you’re holding and start rolling them up your arms. “Stupid motherfucking traitorous--”

Colossus chuckles. “Here, myshka.” He hands you the bag he’s been using to contain the trash. “You hold this. I can finish the rest.”

“Why do you need a jacket anyway?” You ask as you hold out the bag for him. “Aren’t you protected from the cold?”

“I am. The jacket is not so much for my benefit as it is for others. I may not suffer from the cold, but I still get cold. Complaints arise, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

You smirk. “That, and Wade won’t try to lick your arm to see if he’ll stick if you wear the jacket.”

Colossus groans. “Please, do not tell him about that. I would rather he didn’t try.”

You giggle and mime zipping your lips. “Secret’s safe with me, big guy.”

“Piotr.”

“Gesundheit.”

He laughs --actually laughs, full-bodied and joyous--and shakes his head. “My name. It’s Piotr. I thought you should know.”

You grin --it’s a surprisingly attractive name, which you suppose is fitting--and extend your hand. “Nice to meet ya, Piotr. I’m Y/N.”

He laughs again and shakes your hand with the utmost gentleness. “Very funny, myshka.”

You’re about to suggest that the two of you head inside when a loud explosion, a towering fireball, and a scream that sounds suspiciously like Wade emanates from behind the mansion.

Colossus --Piotr--mumbles something under his breath that sounds like a curse. “We should go check on that.”

You grimace and nod. “Come on. Let’s go see what Wade’s done to himself now.”

The fourth time it happens, two things are different.

One, you’re undoubtedly head over heels for Piotr. He’s sweet, kind, an unbelievably good looking, steel and all.

Two, you almost murder someone.

To be fair, that someone was Scott and he absolutely had it coming.

Let’s set the scene again: You had pissed Scott off.

No surprise there. You’re unbelievably good at it. You’re so adept that you could list it as a skill on your resume.

This time around, it’s because you and Wade had utterly booby-trapped his room for April Fool’s day.

In fairness to you and your best friend, you hadn’t done anything lethal or extensively damaging to his property. Just a bunch of toilet paper, some dyes in his shampoo, conditioner, and shower head, and Wade had swapped all his underwear with cheap lace thongs.

For the record: Scott Summers wears tighty-whities, and that’s a fact you wish you didn’t know.

Scott smacks his hands on the kitchen table. “This is an unfair violation of my personal space!”

You roll your eyes. “It was April Fool’s Day, Scott. Also known as ‘everyone’s free game.’ I mean, come on, Wade and I didn’t even do anything that serious! No blood, no bombs, no breaking anything.”

“You switched out all my underwear with lace thongs!”

“That was Wade. If you want a refund, you can talk to him or the returns person at the nearest Walmart.”

Scott scowls. “Admit it! You’ve been out to get me since the day you got here!”

“You’ve been a pain in the ass since the day I got here. What do you expect me to do?”

“That’s your excuse? That’s your excuse!” He lets out a pissed off laugh and shakes his head. “You’re such a piece of fucking work. No wonder your parents kept you locked in your room. I bet you were a nightmare to deal with.”

You can feel your blood run cold as a dangerous calm sweeps over you. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

“Scott,” Jean says, stiffening in her seat. “Run.”

Scott doesn’t hesitate or offer an apology. He bolts for the back door.

You sprint after him, hot on his heels. You’ve killed before, and you’ve never been so tempted to do it again until this precise moment. “I’m gonna fucking murder you, Summers! You cowardly piece of shit!”

“I didn’t mean it! I misspoke!”

“Like ass you did!” You chase him around the back lawn, managing to scoop up a baseball bat left out by the kids as you do. You use your abilities to summon a burst of wind and push you forward. You close in and move to swing the bat--

It catches on something metal, resulting in a loud clang.

You almost fall off your feet when you can’t jerk your bat away from whatever it’s smacked into and look up.

Piotr frowns down at you, hand wrapped around the barrel of the bat. “No, myshka. This is not appropriate.”

“Not appropriate? On the contrary! This is completely fucking appropriate!” You yank and wrench at the bat. “Give me my bat! I’m going to beat his head in!”

“Uh, no!” Wade interjects. “No erasing Cable from the timeline!”

“Fine! I’ll maim Scott instead!” You brace your foot against Piotr’s legs and try to tug the bat out of his grip --not that it works, but you’re mad beyond reasoning. “Give me the bat!”

“No, myshka. Whatever he said, there is better way to handle this.”

“Oh, but there isn’t!”

“Myshka--”

“Do you know what he said to me?” Your eyes are stinging now, and your shoulders are starting to shake as you try to hold back angry sobs. “He called me a ‘fucking piece of work’ and said that it was no wonder my parents kept me locked in my room because I’m a nightmare!”

That gets a scowl out of him, and he turns to unleash it, full force, at Scott. “Is this true?”

Scott has the decency to look sheepish. “I misspoke.”

“No, misspeaking is calling someone an asshole, or a cunt, or a dipshit!” You snap. “It’s not saying their parents were right for abusing them!”

“I’m inclined to agree.” Professor Xavier emerges from the crowd of watchers, calm as ever. “Mr. Summers, if I could speak to you for a moment. Mr. Rasputin, I trust you can help Ms. Y/L/N calm down.”

Piotr puts a hand on your shoulder, holding you in place --not technically, he’d let you walk away if you wanted to--until the back door closes, leaving the two of you with some privacy.

You scrub at your cheeks with your sleeve, pissed off and embarrassed. “Well. That was a train wreck.”

“It did not go well,” he agrees. “You need to try to react better, myshka. Don’t let him get under your skin as bad.”

“Don’t let him bug me?” You paraphrase with a withering glare. “He said my parents were right for locking me in my room! How am I supposed to not let that piss me off?”

“Myshka, please, try to calm down. Let me try to get the words right,” he says, holding his hands up in a calming gesture.

You make in effort. It’s for him, after all.

“I am not saying Scott was right. He was very wrong, and he should’ve never said any of those things. I am just trying to say that beating him up all the time is not right response. You could get hurt, or someone else could get hurt in process. I think it would be better for you to get someone --the Professor or myself, maybe--when these things happen so you and Scott can work out your differences instead of fighting all the time.”

He’s right, you know he’s right, but outright admitting defeat right now is too great a task. Instead, you contort your face into a comical pout and whine up at him, “Aw, but my way is more fun!”

He smiles softly, a clear indicator that he knows that you know he’s right. “Perhaps, but more dangerous too.”

“Well, yeah, that’s why it’s fun.” The silence that follows lets the pain you’d been holding back rush to the surface. You grit your teeth together as tears sting your eyes. “Fucking asshole. Where the fuck does he get off?”

“People say unkind, unwise things when angry. Scott is one of those people, unfortunately.”

Your lower lip trembles, and you duck your head to hide the fact that you’re starting to cry. “I just... the fuck did I do to deserve that? What did I do as a kid that warranted locking me away?”

There’s a soft grunt as he kneels, and then Piotr’s hands come up to hold your shoulders. “Myshka, look at me. Please.”

You do. Because it’s him. You love him, and you know he’ll never make fun of you for crying.

“You could never do anything to deserve the way your parents treated you,” he says once you look at him. “You are wonderful, and smart, and kind; they were fools not to realize your worth.”

You smile, deeply touched by his unabashed praise of you. “Thanks, Pete. You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

He gives you a bashful smile. “I would hope so. You are... you are my best friend, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

“You’re really special to me, too. I’d use the term ‘best friend,’ but I’m afraid Wade would hear, and he’d throw an absolute shit fit if he finds out he has competition for that category.”

Piotr laughs. “Say no more. I understand. Wade is Wade.”

“No kidding.” You hesitate, then ask, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but... can I have a hug? I’m feeling really shitty right now.”

“Of course, myshka. You don’t have to ask.”

You step forward into his arms, winding yours around his neck as you lay your head against his shoulder. You let out a soft sigh as his arms wrap around you, and you melt into the hug.

It’s soft --despite the fact that he’s literally made out of metal--and loving and exactly what you needed.

It’s a complicated, overwhelming moment due to the anger you’re feeling at Scott, the painful memories of your parents that are playing in your mind’s eye, and the utter joy thrumming through your body at being hugged by your crush.

You press against him and start to cry again, unable to really do anything else.

Colossus rubs his hand up and down your back, as gentle and careful as ever. “It’ll be okay, myshka. You’re going to be alright.”

And, despite how you’re feeling right now, you know he’s right. After a moment, you pull back with a sniff. “Thanks. I really needed that.”

“No problem, myshka.”

You grin as he stands. “You use ‘myshka’ more than you use my real name. What’s up with that?”

“Sorry, I--”

You stop him before he can build up too much steam. “No, big guy, I like it. I was teasing you.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “You are nothing but trouble.”

“And yet you keep hanging out with me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked it.” He gets oddly flustered at that, so you move on to spare him any embarrassment of trying to respond. “I still haven’t figured out what it means though. I’m starting to think that you just made it up and are messing with me.”

“It is real word. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know that, Pete. I’m just yanking your chain.” You pat his arm as you cock your head to the side. “So, it’s supposed to be something nice. Is it ‘idiot’ in the sense that I call Wade an idiot? Like, in a loving sense?”

He rolls his eyes. “Nyet. I would not call you ‘idiot’ because it’s unkind. Besides, you are not idiot.”

“Okay, okay. Just thought I’d check.” You quirk your mouth to the side. “Is it a term for ‘friend?’”

“No.”

“Does it mean ‘genius?’”

He laughs. “No, but I would venture to say you are one.”

You grin. “Careful. I will absolutely use you as a reference when I apply for my official certification. What about... ‘super awesome badass?’”

Another laugh. “No.”

You wrack your brain for ideas, then waggle your eyebrows at him, unable to resist an opportunity to rib him a little. “Does it mean ‘sexy?’”

His reaction is immediate. He ducks his head, rubs the back of his neck, and laughs nervously. “Ah... no.” He mutters something else in Russian, and smiles bashfully at you. “That would be something Wade would say, but not me.”

You chuckle. “Fair enough.”

“You know, I could just tell you--”

“Uh-uh. I’m having fun with this. Don’t spoil it for me.”

The ‘myshka’ moments, as you call them, are a near constant part of your life after that. Colossus uses the term more than he uses your own name --not something you mind, though. You’re beyond tickled that he has a nickname for you.

You’re head over heels for him, plain and simple. Just about anyone can tell --except, as it would seem, Piotr.

Or, so you think.

Everything comes to a head a couple months after the hug moment on the back lawn, a little over a year after you arrived at the X-Mansion.

It’s a rainy day, which is almost a calamity in and off itself --it’s the week during the school year where all the teachers meet together and talk about curriculum and meeting student’s needs, which means the X-Force --since none of you, save for Piotr, are teachers--is stuck with babysitting duty.

Fortunately, Piotr volunteered to help, but that still leaves only four adults --Wade doesn’t count, since his impulse control is worse than some of the kids present--and three teenagers to try and manage a group of fifty bouncing, shrieking, hyperactive kids.

Neena ends up having the great idea to play hide and seek --which is perfect, since everyone can play.

You draw the short straw and start counting in the kitchen while everyone runs off. Once you reach ‘one hundred’ you pop up and run up to the library. You heard Piotr’s heavy steps heading in that direction, and an easy find will help you once you start tracking down your kids.

That, and you want to spend some time alone with him, but you’d only admit that to Wade. Under duress.

You pop into the library, victorious smile already tugging at your lips...

And he’s not there.

The library’s not empty, just notably Piotr-less. Instead, a large, pale man dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with black hair and astonishingly blue eyes sits at one of the tables, drawing something on a sketchpad. He looks up when you walk in, seemingly startled.

“Oh --uh--sorry.” You smile politely. You’ve never seen this guy before --and you’d know if you had, because he’s capital H-O-T hot. Massive, thick muscles, smooth skin, gorgeous eyes, chiseled features, the whole nine yards. “Uh, you wouldn’t have happened to see a metal guy walk by, would you? About the size of your average giraffe, made out of steel, probably muttering something about safety or rules.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of the man’s mouth, and he points to the right.

“Thanks.” You pop back out of the library and dart down the hall to the right. You make it about halfway down, then stop.

The man’s face is stuck in your head. He looks so familiar, but you can’t place where you’ve seen him before.

You jog back to the library, hellbent on scratching this itch that is currently occupying your brain.

The man looks up as you walk back in, smiling slightly as he watches you. He doesn’t look uncomfortable or confused. If anything, he looks borderline amused.

You stare at him, trying to match up his handsome features to the faces that you know at the mansion. You’re sure you’ve never seen his face before, but he also looks so fucking familiar...

And the man, he’s just... letting you stare at him. He’s staring back at you too, brow raised and the corner of his mouth lifted up into an small smile.

And that seals it for you, because there’s no way a stranger would be chill with you just ogling at them like this.

He’s almost the same size as Colossus, you think as you study him.

And that’s where it starts. You know Piotr draws --he teaches art to the kids here, actually. Honestly, this guy looks like him, too. He’s the right build, the right size, just shrunk down a little.

But it can’t be. You peer at his face, and --yeah--the features are right, just a little more delicate and articulate than Colossus’s metal ones. You do a double take, then let out a hesitant, “...Piotr?”

The man laughs --which settles it, because you know that laugh-and nods. “Da.” He sets down his sketchbook. “Honestly, I thought this would work better. I guess I can’t get anything past you, myshka.”

You grin at him, awestruck. “Holy shit... I... I didn’t expect this.”

Because, good God, he’s handsome. He was plenty attractive as a metal titan of justice, but he’s downright gorgeous like this. His hair is dark and fluffy and lays nicely against his forehead. His cheeks are rosy and flushed, and he actually has dimples that you’re guessing don’t show up with the metal armor in place, because you would’ve definitely noticed them before now for as much time you spend staring at his face.

And his eyes. His eyes are doing things to you. They’re making you think dirty, sexual things. You’re going to need to shower in holy water tonight. Holy shit.

“Oh my gosh!” You walk over to the table he’s sitting at and lean against the edge. “I didn’t realize you had a human form! I just thought you were metal all the time!” You hop up onto the edge of the table, look him up and down, and wink at him. “Looking babe-ly, my man.”

He chuckles --and it sounds completely different now that it’s not reverberating through layers of metal, but no less attractive. “Thank you. I prefer to be in my armor. Especially with Wade around.” He wrinkles his nose. “Wade... necessitates being ready for anything.”

You giggle, partially because he’s right, but mostly because you’re completely overwhelmed by his transformation. “Yeah, he does that.” You catch a glimpse of his sketchbook and gasp. “Whoa! You did that?”

It’s a detailed, intricate drawing of a bird. Well, ‘drawing’ might be underselling it; the bird looks so life-like that it looks like it’s about to fly off the page.

Piotr nods, cheeks flushing. “Da. It’s not finished yet.”

You make a choking noise. “Your ‘not finished’ looks like my ‘only in my dreams.’ Can you teach me how to draw? I’d love to get better.”

He nods again, smiling softly. “I would love to.” He leans forward in his seat, an excited expression on his face. “Would you like to see others?”

You nod eagerly. “Hell yeah.”

He shows you a few other sketches --there’s one of the gardens on the grounds, one of a set of mutant twins that shipped in from Russia a few weeks ago, and a full color one of a sunset that makes you gasp.

“Piotr, it’s beautiful,” You murmur as you gaze at the seamless blend of colors.

He cheeks flush again --he’s a blusher, apparently, and you probably shouldn’t like that as much as you do--and he smiles bashfully at you. “Thank you. This is not one of my better ones.”

“It’s wonderful,” You insist. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“You can have it, if you want.”

You blink, startled and undeniably pleased. “Really? I don’t want to take it from you.”

“Really, myshka. If you like it, you can have it.”

“Piotr, that’s so sweet of you. I’d love to have it, if you’ll let me. Though, we should probably keep it in the sketchbook until the day’s done. I wouldn’t want it to get accidentally destroyed.”

You both move to close the sketchbook at the same time, your hands brush against each other. You gasp and stop to clasp his hand --still massive, especially compared to yours--in yours. “Oh my gosh. I’ve never felt you without your armor before!”

Thank goodness that Wade isn’t with you right now, because he’d never let you live that comment down. Unwitting innuendos aside, you’re right --you’ve never touched him out of his ‘armor mode’ before, and his skin is so much softer than you’d expected.

Your fingers make it halfway up his hand before you realize that you’re probably --definitely--crossing way too many lines right now. You withdraw your hand and let out a nervous chuckle. “Sorry. That was weird of me.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says quickly, cheeks flushing scarlet. “It feels... good.”

Well. That wasn’t the response you were expecting.

Encouraged by his reaction, you brush your fingers against the back of his hand again, moving them up and down his hand, over his wrist, and up his forearm.

He’s just as muscular as he looks. There doesn’t seem to be an inch of fat on him anywhere, even on his forearms.

You look up, ready to quip about how many protein bars he had to eat to look like this, but the words die in your mouth when you see the look he’s giving you.

He’s staring at you --gazing at you, really. His blue eyes are watching your every move, intense and... maybe even a little fond? He smiles softly as he lifts his free hand and lets his fingers graze against your forearm. “May I?”

You nod, temporarily rendered mute from his intense gaze and the overall earnestness of his expression.

His gaze lowers to follow his fingers as he touches you in kind, fingers brushing against your skin. He traces his fingers over your forearm and up to your shoulder, lips parted slightly as he studies you. Then, in a moment of boldness that you almost can’t believe, he lifts his hand to your face and grazes his fingers against your cheek.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch. You don’t try to stop your pleased smile or the soft, happy sigh that follows. What would be the point? You’re one hundred percent head over heels for this man, and if he hasn’t figured that out by now, he never will.

When you open your eyes again, you gasp.

He’s staring at you, at your face, with such a strong intensity that it almost knocks you over.

You watch as his gaze lingers on your lips for a long moment, then flits back to your eyes, and you decide ‘fuck it’ and lean in to press your lips against his.

Piotr’s reaction is almost immediate. His free hand comes up to press against your back, pulling you towards him.

You slide off the table and into his lap, perhaps a little too happy to close the gap between the two of you. You let your hands rest against his muscular chest, bracing yourself against him.

After a moment, he breaks the kiss, gasping slightly. “Bozhe moi.” He looks utterly delighted as he smiles at you. “I have wanted to do that for... for a while.”

You grin back, completely blissed out. “Yeah. Me too.” You wince when you catch sight of the clock and realize that you’ve spent half an hour in the library with him. “We should probably go find the kids. It’s been thirty minutes.”

Piotr stands --careful to not knock you over--and tucks his sketchbook under his arm. “Da. Lead the way.”

You walk out of the library together, hand in hand.

The rest of the day is spent sharing quick glances and smiles with each other, along with careful, appropriate touches.

Wade shoots you a look when Piotr’s hand lingers on the small of your back longer than strictly necessary, then gives you two thumbs up --along with a series of crass gestures that make you roll your eyes--when you nod and grin excitedly.

Fortunately, the rain lets up about an hour before dinner, which means that you can take the kids outside to eat dinner. Hot dogs and fries --along with plenty of healthy sides, thanks to Piotr--are distributed to all the bouncing, happy kids on brightly colored disposable plastic plates.

You sit next Piotr during dinner and occasionally manage to share sweet looks and smiles with him before one of the kids distracts one or both of you. You can’t help but grin when you watch him converse with the set of twins from Russia, and you absolutely relish the way his leg presses against yours during the entire meal. You stay after everything’s done to help him clean up, hoping to have enough time to sneak another kiss. 

Wade, the ever dependable wing man, manages to persuade or coerce the rest of the X-Force into herding the gaggle of kiddie mutants back into the mansion. He gives you an excited thumbs up, mouths the words ‘suck his face... or his dick’ at you, then disappears inside, closing the door behind him.

You smile up at Piotr. “Hey.”

He smiles back. “Hi.”

“What were you and the twins talking about?” You ask as you stack up a table’s worth of plastic plates.

“Mostly about what they think of America. They think the weather is too hot.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, it must be a big transition for them. Not gonna lie, it was really cute to watch you interact with them.”

He grins and raises his eyebrows. “Da?”

You nod. “Yeah. You’re really good with them.”

He ducks his head, cheeks flushing, then favors you with a bashful smile. “I liked watching you work with girl who can fly. I think you made her day when you showed your abilities.”

“She was a sweetheart,” You agree.

Piotr goes quiet for a moment, then leans forward and kisses your cheek. “She’s not only one.” He ties off the bag of trash from dinner and tosses it in a nearby barrel. “Shall we go for walk?” he asks when he turns back around.

You nod eagerly and take his hand.

The two of you walk towards the gardens, talking quietly about the day and what you think about the kids living at the X-Mansion.

Piotr leads you to a bench tucked behind a tree. He tugs your hand gently so that you sit down next to him and promptly presses his lips against yours once you do. “Sorry,” he says once the two of you part. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

You kiss him again, simply out of the satisfaction that you can. “Don’t apologize. I was hoping you’d do that.” You snuggle up against him and lay your head against his shoulder. “So, do you want to know what my last guess for what ‘myshka’ means is?”

He grins at you. “Sure.”

You can feel your face flush as you gaze up at him. “Does it mean ‘beautiful?’”

He shakes his head. “Nyet, though you are very beautiful.”

You can help but glow under his affection. “Well, then, I give up. I have no idea what it means.”

“Does that mean I can tell you now?”

“Go for it. I’m dying to know.”

He takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers. “It means ‘little mouse.’”

You frown at him. “Really? ‘Little mouse?’ I know I’m short, but I didn’t think I was that small.”

He laughs quietly. “It is not about height.” The tips of his ears go downright scarlet. “In Russia, it is term of endearment... that boyfriends use for girlfriends.”

Oh.

You have to take a minute to process the new information.

He’d been calling you myshka for the better part of a year now --knowing full well what it meant.

“Does... does that mean you liked me all this time?”

He nods, fixing with that intense, gorgeous blue gaze of his. “Da. You are kind, and smart, and unbelievably fierce, and achingly beautiful. You swept me off my feet the moment I met you with your humor and spirit, and I have been in love with you ever since.”

“Why didn’t you say something? I could’ve kissed you months ago!”

“You told me not to say anything! What was I supposed to do?”

You slump back against the tree. “Man, the one time my stubborn streak really doesn’t pay off.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I think it all worked out in end.”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m disagreeing with that.” You grin up at him. “So, Mr. Rasputin, is this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He blushes, but nods. “Da.”

You’re pleased beyond words, and simply opt to kiss him again.

“May I take that as ‘yes?’” he asks when you break the kiss, slightly breathless.

“Da,” You reply, earning a soft, sweet smile and an equally sweet kiss from him.

[mooleche]

Hiii I'm recovering from 3 days of antidepressant withdrawals, so can I have that whole "not nice OC asks" list for Nina? Yeah, the whole damn thing.

Dad holy fuck, sending you them BIG HUGS rn. I hope you feel better soon!

WHOLE DAMN THING HERE WE GO 

1. What is one word to shut them up?

‘Enough'It's a very basic word but Nina knows that when it's used it's time to stop whatever she's doing that's causing someone to have to say it, mostly because her parents only ever used it on her when she was getting too rough with her sparring partners or when she was pushing herself too hard. It’s kind of a ‘snap back to reality’ trigger for her.

2. What is the thing they feel the most guilty about?

Giving up on her dream of becoming a real hero. Since she was born a mutant and grew up seeing Captain America and various other heroes fighting crime she wanted to use her powers for good to fight crime like them, so that's what she worked towards for like, a HUGE chunk of her life. So to have her health suddenly take a dive and then eventually get too hurt to keep up with her old antics crushed her spirit for a long time.

3. What is the worst pain they’ve ever experienced?

OH BOY. This would probably be when she was experimented on by Essex Corp. in her mid-teens. She was often punished for protecting the other children that were being experimented on and took on the brunt of what they dished out there, eventually leading to them going as far as removing her secondary mutation as a way to discipline her into submission. She was eventually rescued of course, and was able to repress these memories, but the amount of stress that was put on her body made it so that she could never fully fight crime again.

4. Describe their worst nightmare.

Having a child/seeing a child die. She's not SUPER into kids because of her lifestyle and taking care of Venom is already like caring for one, but she's got a mighty soft spot for them. This unfortunately changes after having a dream simulation of her future family used against her in a mission gone wrong, so she's terrified of putting a child in that type of scenario in the real world, instead putting her care into the children of the X-Mansion.

5. List 3 fears; one “surface level” fear, one “repressed” fear, and one “deep dark” fear.

Surface level - Dying. That's pretty much everyone's fear but Nina's faced it a few times too many not to worry that it could be around the corner at any second so she (stubbornly) lives her life to the fullest with Venom while she's able to repress it.Repressed - Needles. She doesn't remember why or how this fear came about (due to her memories of her terrible experience at Essex being shut away) but the sight of them makes her sick to her stomach.Deep dark - Losing control. Due to her symbiotic relationship with Venom and seeing how unhinged he can be in the wrong hands it's a deep dark fear of Ninas that one day she'll lose control of herself and Venom will completely take over. Despite all the reassurance that he gives that he won't do that she still is unable to shake the feeling that it will some day happen

.6. What is something that never fails to make them feel sick?

Large amounts of gore. She can stomach it more after being around Wade long enough, but the sight of too much blood/mutilation often leaves her sick to her stomach.

7. What feature (physical or otherwise) do they hate most about themselves?

Her body, but only because it can't handle much before it shuts down under stressful conditions. Also one large scar on her right side she has as a reminder of her last solo vigilante mission that ended poorly; a reminder that she had to give up what she loved most.

8. Do they have anything that triggers them?

The mention of Essex Corp always seems to trigger a deep-rooted feeling of fear in her that she can never piece together why until later in her life.

9. What is their greatest physical weakness?

Her body dsgkslgs. Due to all the experiments and stress put on her body she can't do much without overexerting herself. Bloody noses are always her red flag that she's overdoing it and needs to tap out.

10. What is their greatest mental weakness?

She's stubborn as hell and tends to keep things to herself for the sake of not stressing others out, which in turn ends up stressing everyone out even more.

11. Do they have any vices?

Despite getting nauseous around gore she's got a pretty big bloodlust. She loves fighting and will sometimes stray off the heroic path because of it.

12. Have they ever done something illegal? What was it?

She's killed a man before, which kind of births her bloodlust mentioned earlier and realizing that some people can only stop doing wrong if they're buried 6 feet underground.

She’s also erased a lot of students debts using her ink powers. Not all heroes wear capes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

13. Which of the 7 Deadly Sins best describes them?

Definitely Wrath. You wouldn't suspect with how she acts normally (clumsy, easy-going, ect.) but she's very into the idea of torturing someone if it means getting the answers she wants or getting revenge by any means necessary.

Also probably Sloth, just because for her early 20's she spends a lot of her life in a bit of a depressed funk after everything that happens to her, but also a bitch loves naps.

14. Are they prone to outbursts (of violence, extreme emotion… exc… )?

Sometimes. Usually only if she or the people around her are being threatened will she get violent or start making threats. Or if she sees Scott Summers.

15. Who do they hate the most?

Scott Summers ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿Just kidding (kind of). She loathes villains that think they can get away with their crimes, or who are uncaring of the destruction they cause the rest of the world for their gain. Harassers and abusers are a close second but the ultimate bane of her existence is the scientist that tortured her when she was younger.

16. Is there anyone who makes them feel inferior?

Colossus. Which isn't intentional on his part, and she knows this, but he is such a momma hen to her most of the time that she feels like he doesn't think she's strong enough to hold her own on missions.

17. What sound always gives them a headache?

Anything that's TOO loud or high a frequency. Due to Venoms weakness to higher pitches of sound she has to be careful with some of the things she listens to or where she goes.

18. Is there a certain flavor that disgusts them?

Anything TOO sweet, which is a toss-up for her as Venom LOVES chocolate gsdkgds

19. Do they consider themselves ugly?

Not ugly, but she definitely feels she's serving a 'gross college student with no control of their life' look.

20. Do they consider themselves unloveable?Not really. She's fully aware she's lovable, but there are moments she's had where she's felt she couldn't be loved because she's a mutant.But then her parents burst through her door and give her a good fucking pep talk.

21. What is something that causes them great anxiety?

Losing control of herself or messing up a mission she's on.

22. Do they have any mental illnesses?

She suffers from PTSD, Depression and Anxiety.

23. Have they ever been assaulted/abused/raped?

She was abused severely back at Essex Corp, which she has managed to block out completely, and has gotten her fair share of fights in while acting as a vigilante.

24. Do they fear the possibility of being assaulted/abused/raped?

Somewhat. She knows it's all definitely a possibility, especially in her line of work, but having Venom with her makes her feel better about wandering the streets at night most of the time.

25. Have they ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust?

Yes. But it was under the guise that they thought what they were doing would help her in the long run when it ended up just slapping a band-aid on a dam.

26. Have they ever been seriously injured?

Boy has she! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

27. How many times have they been in the hospital?

A handful of times in her teens, and then in her early 20s due to a lethal attack that almost left her for dead. After that she gains Venom and usually goes to Hank McCoy when needing medical services (no matter how many times he tells her he's not her personal hospital)

28. Is there a certain type of person that disgusts them?Racists, Anti-Mutant supporters, Rapists, take your pick. If they're doing bad things she most definitely does not like them.

29. Does what they cannot see scare them?A bit, yeah. She often will stay awake at night talking about it with Venom because he's technically old as shit, to which she'll sometimes wake Colossus up so he can give his 2 cents which is usually 'Go back to BED'.

30. Have they ever been bullied?When they were younger, yes. Being a mutant often makes you the Caesar of jokes, which she hated and resorted to eventually wearing half gloves as a result to cover her markings.

31. Do they have self-confidence or self-image issues?After losing her strength to fight she is often plagued with self-confidence issues, not feeling like anything is up to par with what she would like. Having a group of supportive friends and loved ones around her pulls her out of this hole eventually though.

32. Do they have a bad relationship with their parents?God no. Her parents are her heroes and while they aren't mutants themselves, have been with her 100% of the way to make sure she could live life as comfortably as possible.

33. Have they ever been in a relationship that didn’t work out so well?The majority of her relationships all ended on decent terms. She keeps in touch with them to keep the friendships going because they're all still cool folks.

34. Have they ever self harmed?No, she was always too nervous to go through with it.

35. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?That her body return to normal. Or that she could gain her old mutation back.

36. Are they in control of their emotions, or are their emotions in control of them?Because she's the current host of Venom she's kind of forced to keep her emotions in check. That of course doesn't mean that she doesn't have a hiccup in the road every now and then but she does her best to keep them both centered.

37. Have they ever had their freedom taken away?Yes. A few times to her displeasure, but she's always managed to get it back and get her revenge for it.

38. Have they ever been imprisoned?slgjksgdl yes, she's even gone as far as getting herself tossed into the Ice Box intentionally for missions

39. Have they ever been accused of something they didn’t do?Later in her life, yes. She gets set up at least once in order to do someone else's dirty work, which she does not take to kindly.

40. Do they often blame themselves for other people’s problems?Sometimes, yes. But only if she wasn't able to help in the matter as expected.

41. Do they get sick often?Nah, despite being a walking enigma of health she surprisingly doesn't get sick.

42. Are they comfortable with where they are in life?She likes to think she is. At the start of her new chapter in life she's kind of drifting around in college and just trying to live as normal a life as she can despite wanting to do more but not wanting to overwhelm her body in the process.

43. Do they wish that they could change their pasts?Yes. There's large chunks of her past that she has no recollection of and wishes (though fears) that she could change or at least SEE them.

44. What’s one thing they wish they could do more often, but can’t?Protect her loved ones and/or spend more time with Colossus, since they're schedules are always so borked.

45. What is the emotion they most commonly experience?Exhaustion or Confusion sgkgls

46. Have they ever contemplated suicide?Unfortunately, yes. During her teen years after her experience she fought heavily with it due to not knowing what happened to herself in the gap of memory missing, just the emptiness that stayed with her.

47. Have they ever gone so far as to attempt suicide?No, while she considered it many a time she decided against it because her desire to figure out what happened overpowered the desire to die.

48. Is there anyone that they would willingly kill?Oh honey. Pick a name out of the hat, she's good to go LOL

49. If [name] was put into ______ situation, they’d rather die than live to see it through.This is WAY far off but in her story, but probably the reawakening of Knull. Since he's the god of symbiotes it would ultimately destroy her because it would mean Venom would be reverted to his original feral self and Knull would probably force her to watch as he takes over Earth, a situation she would attempt to thwart but would be more than welcome to die than see him reach his goal.

50. Create your own!Time to reveal a sad plot in Nina's story (since I don't know when I'll get to this hhh) -Nina and Colossus actually met each other when she was younger when the x-men came to her rescue at the Essex corp, but because of Charles Xavier doing his special MIND TRICKS she holds no recollection of ever meeting him or any of the conversations they held when she was recovering from the incident at the mansion. So they have this strange familiar feeling when they first meet but think it's just a possible attraction to one another and can't place why :')

[asktemmie-frisk]

The Angry, Lone Leopardwolf (ゴッドモードアーク (Goddomodoaku) (God-mode Arc)

Things were starting to turn back in their favor. Until suddenly, a loud bang rang throughout the school. It was a small army of amalgamates. They blasted their way through the rooftop, and fell into the school, quickly closing in on Frisk and company's position. Then when they found their target, they screeched loudly. Their discordant notes shunted their way into the many monsters and humans' ears inside the school. Everyone was being tortured by their off-key symphony. "If Sans and I had ears, they would be bleeding right now!" Papyrus moaned, trying to shut out the noise. The screeching was so loud, Frisk finally stirred a little. Chara looked at Frisk just long enough to see it. "Wait. Frisk? Is that you?" She asked. "What?" Toriel asked with her ears covered. Chara took her hands off and screamed "FRISK IS WAKING UP!" Toriel and everyone else ran to Frisk. "Frisk! YOU'RE COMING BACK TO US! THANK YOU! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!" Frisk stirred a little more. "Mom, dad." He mumbled. He then winced at the noise he was hearing. Everyone else saw his face and remembered the temmie's warning. They stepped backward and succumbed to the incessant bombardment of screeching. They kept holding their ears to try and shut them out, while Frisk stirred some more. He kept grunting as if the "song" was causing him pain. Then he opened his eyes. He started breathing in and out angrily, and his rage built up quickly until finally, he confirmed he was awake. Frisk roared at the top of his lungs. It was so loud that the amalgmates stopped screeching and cowered in fear as the school shook slightly. "What? They stopped? Why would...they...uh oh." Chara noticed Frisk was awake. Everyone else uncovered their ears and did the same. It was true. Frisk was awake, and he was NOT happy at all. He looked ready to kill everyone. "Frisk. He's awake." Said Mettaton. "Frisk..." That's all Asriel could say. The angered temmie-human stomped his way toward the amalgamates. "I've had enough of the shit you motherfuckers are singing!" Frisk growled with a murderous intent. He then showed claws on his hands and slashed at the abominations. "SHUT THE FUCK UP, AND GET LOST!" One slash was enough to set both the monsters and humans free from their prisons of magic and determination. They each separated from each other in only a second, causing a blast of energy to jet towards Frisk. Everyone watched in astonishment and fear. "He reverted 20 amalgamates...WITH ONE SLASH?!" Alphys said, flustered and scared. "MY BRO DIDN'T EVEN HURT THE PEOPLE INSIDE!" Sans said, now scared for his life. Chara was ready to hug Frisk. She had him back, and she wasn't going to lose him again. Or at least that's what she thought. "Frisk! You're awake! I'm so happy that y-" "Get...the FUCK away from me!" Frisk growled at Chara with an almost feral voice. She stopped right in her tracks. Asriel couldn't believe it. Frisk was being all lovey-dovey with his sister, and now he was rejecting her? He refused to take this insolence. "You asshole. What the fuck, man?" He said. "I'm done with you people." Frisk turned to his friends and family. "I never wanna see you AGAIN!!" Chara and Asriel couldn't believe what they were hearing at all. Frisk was treating them like garbage now? This isn't possible, they thought. "Frisk, you don't mean that..." Chara whimpered. "Just looking at everybody in this place pisses me the fuck off. You know why? Because I'm the same as you, Dreemurrs. That's right. I'm not human! I never was! I'M A GODDAMN FREAK OF NATURE!" Frisk was beyond livid. His anger knew no bounds. Suddenly, he heard footsteps from the other side of the room. "Well, well, the chosen one has finally woken up." Said a figure from the shadows. It was Rhonda. Frisk turned to her in anger. "You. What the fuck do you want?" "What I want is for you to stop your little temper tantrum, and come to me like a good boy should. But, you seem to be enraged beyond measure." Frisk growled and barked at her. "Bite me, bitch!" He shouted with feral undertones. Rhonda got smug. "Oh, I'm absolutely certain you'll want to do more than that. But that's okay. After all, Talrok and I are the ones who want you to get it all out. We know you need a punching bag, so why don't you come over to me, and I'll help you workout your frustration, over, and over, and over...?" Frisk was sickened by her proposal. She wanted him? She couldn't have him, no matter how much she begged, he thought to himself. "Step the fuck off, you fucking colossus!" Frisk slashed at her wildly, attempting to strike her each and every time and missing. Then Talrok showed up when Frisk lunged towards Rhonda. Frisk was especially angry to see Talrok again. "That's the spirit, Frisk!" He said, congratulating the hybrid. "You have got some very nimble reflexes, and that's a good thing. Do you see what I've done for you now? I've opened up a brand new world of possibilities for you, Frisk! Embrace it! Make it your own!" "You didn't expand my potential; YOU TURNED ME INTO A FREAK! THERE'S A FUCKING DIFFERENCE! AND I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNLESS YOU FIX THIS!" "What the-fix? FIX?! This isn't something that can be fixed, Frisk." "Then you better at least show me how to control it if you wanna keep your gut privileges!" "Nonsense! Then you'd just use your knowledge to kill me right off the bat!" Frisk's rage enveloped him further, and he slashed at Talrok repeatedly, who simply dodged the attacks more and more. "This is truly magnificent. It was one thing when you were becoming your true self, but now that you're using what came naturally to you, you're finally blossoming into a greater being than that PATHETIC Dreemurr girl!" Asgore got angry. "THAT'S ENOUGH!" He roared in defense. "I REFUSE TO HAVE ANYONE DOWNTALK MY DAUGHTHER, AND GET AWAY WITH IT!" Talrok got offended. "Oh, is that so, your majesty? TO WHAT RESPECT WOULD I OWE TO THE GIRL WHO TRIED TO KILL ME?! WHY ON EARTH WOULD I GIVE ANY PRAISE TO YOUR DAUGHTER, CHARA DREEMURR, WHO TRIED TO TEAR MY HEART ASUNDER?! WELL?!" Talrok screamed with a slight absence of sanity. Asgore was checkmated, but he didn't stand down as the hybrid turned his attention back to Frisk. "Now think about it, Frisk. You don't truly hate me, do you? If you ask me, I'd say you actually want to thank me for what I've done for you. It's just that you might be a little stubborn. There's nothing seriously wrong with that. All you have to do at this point is tell me the truth." Frisk got a homicidal grin on his face. "Oh! The truth? You want the truth, huh? Fine. You get the truth." Talrok and everyone else perked their ears up. "I just want to KILL YOU!" Frisk threw Talrok off of him, and roared loudly. He growled as he got closer to his target. "Very well then, Frisk." Talrok said, admitting defeat. "If that's really what you want, then I believe it's time we settle this little 'misunderstanding' once and for all! Come to the abandoned warehouse in the town center, and we'll end this! I hope I'll see you there!" "You're damn right I'm gonna be there. My suggestion: start praying. NOW. Because when I get there, you won't have time." Talrok cackled madly while Rhonda teleported him off the school grounds. Frisk's boiling anger was so extreme, he started leaving the school grounds as fast as he could, not knowing what was in store for him. His friends tried to stop him. They ran after him frantically. "Frisk, wait. Will you stop, please?" Chara said, trying to reason with him. "Frisk darling, please. It's a trap, and you know it!" Mettaton warned. Frisk refused to listen to anyone. "Brother, please! Talrok is just using you!" Papyrus showed his voice of reason. "Stop running already, you punk!" Undyne said, dishing out her own brand of common sense. Frisk made it outside to the front. He started running faster. "All right, that's enough." Mettaton said with his jets getting fired up. He extended his arms enough to force Frisk to stop moving. Then he pulled Frisk to his face. "STOP MOVING, AND LISTEN TO US!" Mettaton showed his hidden eye. "What do you guys want?" Frisk snarled with an offensive tone. "You are not thinking clearly, Frisk. Stop trying to start something before you do anything stupid." Toriel said bluntly. "Sure. But first, quit acting like you're my fucking mother!" Frisk smacked Mettaton's arms off of him. He then quickly made his way toward the former queen. "I can't believe I've never even suspected it. You knew all along what I was. ALL OF YOU DID! ESPECIALLY YOU, 'REI'!" He turned his attention to the others. "But you dickheads decided that wasn't good enough for you, so you all decided to play it cool in front of me while you all laughed at the fucking freak!" Frisk's breathing trembled for a moment, but Toriel showed a small amount of bravery. Did she really da- "Frisk, that is NOT true! STOP PRETENDING IT IS!" Yes, she did. She DID dare to talk to him like that. Frisk got ready to retaliate. "Fuck you, goat bitch! I know what you did. What you all did. And I've heard enough of your bullshit!" Frisk raised a claw towards Toriel, but she didn't flinch in even the slightest. Bad move. Or at least it would be if Undyne didn't get in the way, and raise a spear to Frisk. "Well, well, well, the plot really did thicken. Seems like humans really are bad, and they do all have to die." Undyne said, trying to scare Frisk. She failed utterly. "Fuck you! I was never human to begin with, so you can take your little sayings, that you obviously don't mean, and SHOVE'EM UP YOUR ASS!" He faced towards a monument in the distance. "NOW ALL OF YOU MOVE! ANYONE IN MY WAY DIES, NO MATTER WHO IT IS!" Frisk brought the claws so swiftly and powerfully aimed at the monument, he split it in two in one shot. It then showed Frisk's "handiwork" by disintegrating completely. "That giant monument...completely destroyed with one slice!" Alphys didn't want to say it, but it was the truth. "My lil' bros hurting real bad now." Sans said with empty eyesockets. Frisk turned back to the others. "What's the matter, guys? Don't like what I did?" Some of the humans and monsters came out to see the ruckus Frisk was causing. This was getting worse and worse for the poor temmie. "If that's the case, fuck you too, because this is what I am! You fucking humans are all so lucky because you guys can just take out a boss monster to have this type of power. And you monsters...you're far worse. You don't even need a specific type of human. Just one soul is enough to gain 'unfathomable power'." Frisk started tearing up. "But me? I was born with this fucking power, so I have to live with it until the day I die. Don't you humans and monsters fucking get it?! The both of you treat each other like you're some kind of threat to each other, BUT NONE OF YOU ARE! Asriel wasn't the one to show people the real meaning of anything! It was me! I'm the threat! I'm the only threat here!" Chara couldn't believe what Frisk was doing. He was taking every misdeed, both monster and human alike, and blaming himself for it all. "Frisk, that's not true, and you know it. Don't blame yourself for everybody's faults. The only thing you're guilty of now is caring too much about others." Chara tried to console Frisk as best as she could. "Just looking at you and Asriel pisses me off. You remind me of my own stupidity. All you and Asriel have ever done is tell me the truth about how dumb I really was, and I'm still the dumbass because I never saw it until now." Frisk started crying, but he tried to mask it with rage. Then Chara heard a voice inside her head. Chara, I'm so sorry I'm doing this. I wish I told you sooner, but I love you, Chara. Please help me. It didn't take long for Chara to figure out Frisk was talking to her telepathically. She replied in her head. It's okay, Frisk. I love you, too. I'll save you. I promise. She never let her act slip even slightly. "Frisk..." "If you understand what I'm saying, then never cling to me again. We're done." Frisk started tearing up while he ran off to where Talrok was going. Toriel and Papyrus tried to go after him, but Asgore, Sans and Mettaton stopped them before they could make any progess. "Sorry, bro. We can't calm him down. Not this time." Said a melancholy Sans. "I know you want to help him, but you can't this time, despite how great you are." Said Mettaton, thoroughly humbled by watching Frisk suffer. "Toriel, Frisk needs some time alone." Said Asgore. Chara stared off at the miserable temmie-human hybrid until she broke away from him. "Let's go back inside." She murmured. "We have a lot of work to do." Everyone else that went out of the school dredged back in. Frisk made his way to the warehouse as promised. He was determined, all right. But not in a good way.

[bubble-tea-bunny]

life is a game

[rocket raccoon x reader]

author’s note: been wanting to write something for rocket for a while and i’ve been wanting to write something involving video games for a while too. why not combine them?

word count: 3,069

You and Peter are the only Terrans on the team. When the two of you left your native planet (which hadn’t been at the same time—you joined the team later), you both took a piece of it with you, to try to make the ship feel a little bit more like home. Peter brought his Walkman and his collection of mixtapes. You brought a handheld game console older than you are, whose screen isn’t even backlit.

“It was my dad’s,” you’d explained the first time any of the team had asked about it. You don’t bother trying to hide the nervous expression on your face when you see Drax turn the Gameboy over in his hands, the sheer size of them dwarfing your console and causing you to worry that he might accidentally crush it. You smiled gratefully when Rocket took it, as if to study it himself in curiosity. He’d seen your distress, and perhaps out of everyone, you trust him with it the most. He works on all the weapons, which requires a steady hand and a certain finesse.

When it came to bringing pieces of home with you as you traversed the galaxy, it went beyond just memories of a planet. They represented more than that. They represented those who had meant the most to you on Terra. For Peter it was his mother, and for you, it was your father. You take the utmost care of your electronics, because even if you did manage to come across an identical replacement in some other region of space, as unlikely as that is to begin with, it wouldn’t be the same—wouldn’t feel the same, and that’s practically equivalent to being worthless.

The mission this time brings you to the far reaches of a planet where the sun never sets. You’d been hired to steal back an artifact and are waiting for the thief’s ship to touchdown at this specific point, which your employer had been tipped off about. None of you knows what the artifact actually is, only that it’s some foreign piece of technology worth a pretty penny.

You’re all waiting for quite some time. When you’d landed, you were expecting the action to happen soon. Perhaps you’d been too early. Perhaps that thief got lost. It’s long enough that you’ve all relaxed and started to sit around, practically dying of boredom. There was an unspoken suggestion floating amongst all of you that maybe you’re in the wrong place, that maybe you should call it in and ask whether you should leave, but no one has the guts to say it first. The longer it goes unsaid, the longer you’re all out here. And all of you can be rather stubborn.

You find a spot a little ways off the ground in a tree. You settle down on a thick branch, and you lean back against the colossal trunk. The bark digs painfully into your back, but it’s easy to ignore the moment you switch on your Gameboy. You have the volume turned up, and the quiet noise of blasters and make-believe explosions travel through the air. The buttons clack with your hasty movements, and your face is etched in concentration as you try to clear the level. This game is one of your favorites out of the few you had. You’ve been trying for years to beat the high score, which your father had put there when he was your age. You’re not sure if you really are incapable of beating it or if you just don’t want to, for seeing his initials in the number one spot of the scores list is too special to even try to get rid of.

You have his score memorized, the insanely high number burned into your brain, and with years of practice, you’d definitely acquired the skills to match it and potentially beat it, but every time you play and you watch your score climb, there are two possibilities. You might be keeping such a close eye on it because you eagerly await for the day it passes the number in the top score slot, or you might be watching to make sure you never pass the number in the top score slot, making sure to always throw the game and lose before you can reach it.

Honestly, you do know which of the two it is. And Rocket knows which one it is too, without you needing to say anything. He and Groot have watched you play before, just as invested as you in the levels you seemed to be flying through like they were nothing. But then your play style changed at a certain level, and Rocket thought no, that can’t be right, the current level is harder but the curve wasn’t much higher compared to the previous one, which you’d cleared in no time.

You lost within the next minute and when he sees your dad’s initials at the top, with your newest score right below, it clicks. When you’d held the console out to him and offered to let him have a go (something you typically never do, protective of the device as you are), he could see in your eyes that you knew he’d figured it out, but you don’t say anything, so he doesn’t either. That console is special to you—the one link to home which is so many light years away. He declines your offer to play.

When you clear the level, you sigh heavily, one of your legs dropping down and dangling off the side of the branch. You pause the game to stretch your back, and you can’t control the yawn that escapes your mouth. You think you might actually be the first to crack, to suggest maybe you did get the wrong coordinates, but then there’s a whoosh as another ship flies overhead, in your direction. You switch off your console and tuck it into the pack on your belt before hopping down onto the ground and joining your companions.

“I know we’re here to retrieve the artifact and all, but we could just take it for ourselves and sell it,” Rocket comments. “The thing’s probably worth more than what we’re getting paid for this mission—which, by the way, hardly seems worth it now for how long we’ve been waiting.”

Gamora shakes her head at his suggestion and it makes you laugh. “We could, but we won’t,” you tell him. “Our job is to help, remember? Not create anymore trouble.”

“Not to mention what happened last time you thought you could sneak away with some tech that didn’t belong to you,” Peter pipes up. “We had a whole army on our ass.”

Rocket waves a hand dismissively as he scoffs. “Details.”

The following scuffle is rougher than what any of you was anticipating. The thief hadn’t come alone—that you were all expecting. What you weren’t expecting was just how not alone he’d come. The flood of people from the ship bay when it finally lowers is almost comical, but you don’t even get the chance to consider laughing before you’re pulled into the fight. Despite the chaos, you and your fellow guardians are well-practiced with this sort of situation. You’re trained to look for each other, to spot each other at a moment’s notice, so that when you fire a blaster or aim a kick, you don’t hit a teammate. Even if Groot is tiny next to the rest of you, all of you can find him in no time. Usually it’s his war cries that help gauge his location.

You don’t know how long it is until you’re the only ones left standing and the artifact is in Peter’s hand. You do know that your back hurts like a bitch and you’re gonna be sore from getting thrown around so much. The six of you, battered and bruised and tired, start the trek back to the Milano, and your hand goes for the pack on your belt. It’s sort of a comfort thing to feel your console in there.

So imagine the panic that sets in when you find the pack empty.

You immediately stop walking, eyes widening as you turn back around to observe the mess of a battlefield. It had to be there somewhere. Without saying anything you run over, eyes desperately searching for any sign of the precious device. Your hasty steps shifting the grass grabs the others’ attention and they pause, checking to see what you were doing.

“What’s the matter?” Gamora asks.

“My Gameboy,” you state. You can’t tell if you’d said it loud enough, absorbed as you are with your search, turning and moving around bodies with the toe of your boot, but they seem to have heard you just fine.

With all of you searching, you can cover ground faster, but it’s still slow because of how small the device is. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and you feel for a moment that you can’t breathe because surely this isn’t happening. You’d fought with the thing in your pack many times before and it had been fine. Why now? Why at all for that matter?

“I found it!” Drax exclaims, bending down to pick up your Gameboy. He holds it up for you all to see, and you can feel your heart sinking because even at this distance you can tell something about it isn’t quite right.

As you get closer your suspicions are confirmed. The back panel has broken off and the console’s guts have been all but destroyed, the circuit boards practically fried. You want to force a smile on your face to thank Drax for having found your prized possession, because he looks so accomplished, but the heaviness that seems to overtake your face, which forces your lips into a frown as they begin to quiver, makes it impossible to do that. The smile drops from his face when he sees this, sees the way you’re fighting back tears because you never cry in front of them, and his hand is limp as you take the device from him.

You stand in silence, studying the broken console. The others catch up with the two of you and when they see the state of the Gameboy, they also stay quiet. There’s not really much anyone can say. And you think if someone does, you might actually cry. You bite your lip hard and take a deep breath to push back tears that pool in the corners of your eyes, and your drop your hand back down at your side and resume your walk to the ship. Your companions stay where they are for a moment, watching you traipse off, your shoulders sagging, and not just from the intense fighting.

“I am Groot?” Groot speaks up quietly, looking uneasy.

Rocket sighs glumly and glances at the Flora colossus which sits upon his shoulder. “No, she’s not doing okay.”

When they all finally make it back to the Milano, you’re nowhere in sight. You must’ve retreated to your room. Rocket spots your Gameboy on the table next to the cassette player. The others see it too, but he’s the only one to actually walk over and pick it up. He’s careful when he does, for he doesn’t want to make it any worse, and he studies what he can see of the insides without actually taking it out. He stands there for a moment thinking. Peter won’t need any assistance getting off the ground and setting the trajectory for the next destination, so Rocket has no need to assume his seat. He could, but there’s something else that needs attending to.

He returns to his room with your console. There’s a workbench there upon which he sets it, and he sits on the stool, pulling closer all the tools he thinks he’ll need. He’s the electronics expert, but this is a piece of Terran tech he’s never tinkered with before. But he’s not called an expert for nothing, so with a determined huff he pulls out the damaged circuitboards and gets to work.

Usually you would be relaxing by playing your Gameboy, for it helps pass the time between planets. But now you’ve settled for falling asleep, giving in to the fatigue because there’s nothing else to take your attention. You feel many things at this turn of events. You feel sad most certainly, because that thing had meant so much and you already feel so lost without it. It’s what kept you grounded, what kept you just a little bit closer to home in spite of traveling across so many galaxies. You feel mad next, because how could you be so careless? You know you couldn’t have controlled it happening this time because you’d always fought with it in your pack, but you’re mad that you thought that would be okay at all. You think if you really cared about it, you would leave it on the ship and suffer through a short bout of boredom for the sake of its safety. This thought doesn’t make you feel any better. In fact, you feel like you’ve sunk even lower.

You’re not sure how many hours it is when the door to your room slides open. The rest of the ship is quiet—not even the cassette player is on. You’ve just been laying here, on your side and staring at the wall, too frustrated to sleep anymore and dry-eyed because you ran out of tears a while ago. But at this interruption, you sit up and find Rocket standing nervously in the doorframe.

“Hey,” you begin quietly, voice hoarse. You clear your throat as you scoot over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Something wrong?”

“Ah, no…” Rocket smiles slightly as he walks over, and Groot follows close behind, the door sliding shut behind them. For all your distress and earlier upset, Groot’s excitement at seeing you never fails to make you smile, and you welcome him when he climbs up, clinging to the blankets, and plops down in your lap. Rocket takes a seat next to you. “I, uh… I fixed this for you.” He reveals the Gameboy he’d been hiding behind his back.

Your eyes widen as you take it from him with shaky hands, and you switch it on. When you hear that familiar ding, you want to cry again, but for a completely different reason.

“The back panel is a little loose, so you’ll have to be careful, but when i get the right tools I can fix that up too—oof!” Rocket gets cut off because you lean forward to hug him, taking him off guard. Groot clutches at your thighs at the sudden movement to keep from sliding off, and when you feel this, you sit back up and cradle him with your free hand to help keep him steady. A few tears have spilled and trail down your cheek, and they’re salty upon your lips, but you’re smiling as you stare at the start-up screen of your game.

“Thank you, Rocket. Really.” You sniffle as you glance at your fellow guardian. He can’t help the smile on his face because his hard work had paid off. In the midst of working on it, he genuinely almost didn’t think he’d be able to get it functioning again, but he’s not one to say no in the face of a challenge. He hadn’t gotten any shut-eye since he sat down to work on it, and he wasn’t sure if you were going to be awake by the time he was done, because everyone else in the ship was already asleep.

“It’s nothing.” He brushes it off with a wave, but then scratches at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“It’s everything,” you correct him. “Loose back panel and all.”

He chuckles. “I just didn’t wanna see you beat yourself up over it. You couldn’t control that.”

“I’ll be more careful from now on. Maybe just leave it on the ship more often.” You sigh deeply. “That I can control.”

“Well I’ll leave you alone now. It’s late.” He freezes when you lean in again but this time to set a kiss on his cheek. You smile a little wider at his reaction, and glance down when Groot tugs at your shirt.

“I am Groot?”

You laugh, understanding his request without even having to know his language. “Yes, you can have a kiss too.” You pick him up carefully and kiss his cheek as well.

Rocket stands back up as you set Groot back down on the ground. “Get some sleep,” Rocket tells you. It’s practically a command, a gentle one, but a command nonetheless, because with that console back in your hands, there’s a big chance you might stay up until the Milano lands, and then the group will have a half-asleep guardian to deal with.

“I will. ” You smile lopsidedly, and without saying anything else, the two of you know you won’t. Not for a while anyway. Well it’s not like he hadn’t said anything. He can’t be faulted for your potential state later on if you do stay glued to your Gameboy, since he’d told you otherwise. But secretly he’s happy you’re so eager to get back to it. You’re not truly you unless you’re losing sleep because of your games. “Thanks again.”

When Rocket walks back to his room, the smile is still on his face and he rubs at the spot you’d kissed. Would it be cliché to say that spot still felt warm, that he still feels a little tingle? Who is he kidding? It is cliché, but he knows why now, for there’s no other way to describe the sensation. He’s cracking, the kiss you’d given him just the beginning, and the sappiness is creeping in. He wants to fight it off, maintain his hardened exterior, but maybe a little sappiness won’t be such a bad thing?

You’d played the current cartridge multiple times tonight, and when you can barely keep your eyes open any longer, you decide to call it there. You sigh as you stare at the score list, at your father’s initials right there at the top, and smile to yourself as you switch off your Gameboy. The moment your eyes slide shut, you’re out like a light.