#xmen songfic

[winnieiscalmeth]

Notes: First songfic ever so it might not be of best quality! Fun fact! I absolutely hated songfics back then but I think they are kinda romantical now <3

Prompts: Songfic, first kiss, sickness, and slow dancing.

Proofread?: Nop

A Sentinel was chasing you and a few friends; destroying everything in its path. Unfortunately, you were unable to escape and the mutant killer grabbed you. It's eyes glowing, ready to send you to your undeserved grave. Then it malfunctioned; a street light went through the right eye and it caved in. Reacting instinctively it let go of you, and you felt yourself land in someone's arms. You stared up at your savior. Her white bangs and brown jacket that was filled with a sweet but strong perfume. What stuck out most was her Black lipstick.

The night we met I knew I...

Needed you so.

She must have noticed your stunned look and smirked. "Well, aren't you cute?" Her green eyes locked onto yours. Your nerves sent waves of electricity through your limbs. "You will be safe with me darling, don't you worry" The cool breeze flew through your hair as she began to float again.

You stayed at the mansion after that. Not wanting to be on the enemy's radar. You mostly stayed around Rogue since she was the one who saved you and helped you train.

And if I had the chance I'd

Never let you go.

You understandably caught feelings for the southern woman but never gained the courage to confess. You tried to push those feelings back and focus on getting better at using your powers. Rogue didn't help much. With her flirting and innuendos while training, it made you fall back in love again every time.

But instead of accepting her attempts at loving you, you brush them off as you just being delusional again.

So won't you say you love me?

I'll make you so proud of me.

"Doyouwannahavedinnerwithmetonight?" You blurted out, immediately regretting it and clapsing your hands over your mouth. You watched her flinch before turning around.

"I'm sorry honey I didn't hear a word you said"

"Nothing" You picked up your book and ignored her skeptical look.

"You're lying" She pointed at you.

"No I'm not" You pushed the boom further into your face.

We'll make 'em turn their heads

Every place we go.

Rogue put an arm over your shoulders. "Did you just ask me out?" she teased.

"You were not supposed to here that-"

"Don't worry yourself sick about it sugar, I'm free tonight anyway"

So won't you please,

Be my,

"Be my baby~" Rogue's arm reached over the table for yours. Your face became warmer, as her words reached your ears. You lift her hand up and placed it on your face. The diner you took her to wasn't crowded. A booth was available in the corner, for you both to freely talk with each other.

"My one and only baby." When she spoke to you it felt like it wasn't laced with that joking tone she always gave you, but filled with absolute yearning.

Say you'll be my darlin'

Be my baby now,

Oh, oh, oh, oh

I'll make you happy, baby

Just wait and see.

Rogue was dressed up in one of the hoodies she "borrowed" from you. She had arrived at the mansion after being out searching for matching Halloween costumes for the both of you. Hearing her step into your room, you looked up from your desk.

"Hey, sugar! Ah' missed you" She rested her arm on your chair, and hovered over the book you were ready.

"But you left out a few minutes ago." You chuckled, grabbing her cheek to give her a quick kiss before going back to your book.

For every kiss you give me,

Rogue body began heating up. Her once-cold fingertips, regained it's warmth. Your smug look made her even more hot, and of course she wasn't letting that slide. You felt her grab your shirt collar before picking you up out of the chair and planting kisses on your face and lips. Covering you with her Black lipstick.

I'll give you three.

You stared at the ceiling, groggily. With the seasons changing, you would get bedridden. And being sick was the worst thing that could happen, since it felt like you were dying. The light from the hallway seep into your dark room and Rogue peeked in with a bowl.

Oh since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you.

"Ah' made you some soup hun." All you could do was groan in response. "Aw, my poor baby's sick" Rogue said as she helped lift you up. She raised the spoon to your mouth. You relax as the warm broth satisfies your weakened body.

"Guess we shouldn't have gone out that day," Your froggy throat mustered out. Rogue hummed and laid down next to you.

"But at least we get to spend time together" You leaned more into her neck.

"You're gonna get sick"

She laughed before hugging your waist. "Ah' don't care about that stuff. I'm strong enough to fight a lil' cold anyway"

You know I will adore you

'Til eternity.

So won't you please,

"Be my, be my baby" You sang along as you waltzed around the room with Rogue in hand. The radio played the old song. "Be my little baby"

"You really like this song do you?" She said twirling you around.

My one and only baby

"You sang this to me, remember?" You leaned your forehead onto hers. "Say you'll be my darlin' "

You both stayed like that, swaying slowly while cradling each other. Just basking in the other's presence, singing the next chorus together.

"Be my, be my baby"

Be my baby now,

(My one and only baby)

Whoa-oh-oh-oh~

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off

pairing: lead singer!peter maximoff/bassist!fem!reader

summary: nobody likes the opening band-- except, of course, the lead singer’s secret girlfriend, who just happens to be the headliner.

warnings: smut, oral (female receiving) they fuck on an amp and that stresses me out

notes: you literally cannot blame me for using this song its just so HORNY. also this is almost 1.8k words im Proud. This is a songfic but also at the same time not really (based off of lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off by Panic! At The Disco) 

I dedicate this fic to my dear friend @kitwalkers who’s honestly an icon and you should go check them out

~~~~~~~~~~~

            You could see it in his eyes and the mischievous grin on his face. He sauntered over to the stage, his hips swinging just a bit more than usual. He said something to the drummer before approaching the microphone. His hand slides down the mic stand, his finger caressing the cold metal as he adjusted the high. The opening performance. This was only the opening performance. All you had to do was get through his set and then you could do your own-- you just had to make it through a couple songs. Yet somehow, Peter Maximoff managed to drag out his set as much as possible, his intentions obvious. He was trying to get you worked up before the performance-- Peter had a habit of teasing you before big events. 

            Eventually, the last song rolls around and the end is in sight. His eyes met yours, the dark pupils obviously blown out more than usual. He was either high or horny-- probably both. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, but it lingered for a second, flicking a corner of his mouth before he gave the signal to his bandmates. The bassist had barely played a note but you already recognized the song-- Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off. Your stomach dropped and Peter smirked, satisfaction written all over his face as his queue approached. 

            “Is it still me that makes you sweat? Am I who you think about in bed? When the lights are dim and your hands are shaking as you’re sliding off your dress?” His voice is low and sultry, his eyes still locked with yours. His hands move along the mic stand slowly, his actions and the fiery look in his eyes immediately traveling to your core. You press your thighs together and Peter grins. “Well then think of what you did, and how I hope to god he was worth it. When the lights are dim and your heart is racing as your fingers touch your skin.” Your bandmate leans over to whisper in your ear.

            “He’s, uh, quite the showman,” She chuckles. Her eyes trail upland down Peter’s body and you can’t help but clench your jaw. Sure, no one knew about you and Peter, but that didn’t stop you from getting defensive. 

            “I heard he’s got a girl-- somethin’ secretive.” You add slyly, your eyes not leaving Peter’s. 

            “Lucky gal,” Your bandmate quips. You nod absentmindedly. Peter seems dissatisfied with the loss of your attention, his movements becoming more and more suggestive by the second.

            “Girl I was it, look past the sweat. A better love deserving of exchanging body heat in the passenger's seat-- no, no, no, you know it will always just be me,” He nodded slowly, leaning forward with the mic stand, the long metal pole tipping between his legs. “Let’s get these teen hearts beating faster! Faster!.” Peter tore his eyes away from yours as the bass and guitar blares, his head shaking to dishevel his hair. Peter takes the mic off the stand and begins to move around the stage with more energy than usual, his voice melodic and breathy and so incredibly hot, it makes your bones vibrate. 

            With every strum of the guitar and crash of the symbols, Peter was becoming more and more frustrated. He was hot and sweaty and so horny he felt like he was about to shout-- he was the opener, he was only the opener. He tugged off his jacket, tossing it to the corner of the stage before he returned to singing. He had to get through the song-- just the one song then he could run backstage and jack off in some closet and he’d be fine. You were not helping Peter’s situation; your unyielding gaze and slow gestures making Peter’s jeans feel much tighter than before. Yes, Peter understood he started it-- he chose this song because he knew it would get you going, but Peter did not realize the consequences. He didn’t show it, though. He kept up his smug facade, shooting a wink your way as he began the final chorus. 

            Peter grunted in confusion as you walked away before the end of the song, his eyes following you around the corner. He glanced back at his bandmates as the song closed, allowing them to adjust their instruments and discuss the performance as he sped off. You were standing outside of the venue, the cool winter air soothing your hot skin-- Peter’s appearance startled you. 

            “Why’d you run off, doll? Did ya not like the song?” Peter teased as he pressed his palms against the brick wall on either side of your head, effectively trapping you in place. You weren’t necessarily complaining, though; it was nice to have Peter this close. Although you had a feeling he’d get a lot closer in the near future. 

            “Eh, it was okay,” You quipped, a smirk stuck on your face as Peter began inching closer.  “I hope you’re aware that I blow your bass player out of the water; the poor kid had no control over his fingers.”

“Oh yeah?” The silver-haired man leaned close, his lips brushing your ear and his hot breath on your skin as he spoke softly. “Well unlike him, I actually know how to work my fingers.” He drags his pointer finger along your jaw causing a shiver to run down your spine.

            “Prove it.” You purr. Peter hastily pulls you inside the venue and into the first empty room he could find; he was pleased to see that you ended up in the equipment storage closet. He was on you in seconds, his hands gripping your waist as he slammed his lips on yours. You gasp, and Peter takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He grinds against your thigh, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. Frantically, he manages to lay you on top of one of the industrial sized amps in the corner. Sure, if they were to break the both of you would probably owe thousands of dollars, but neither of you cared at the moment. 

            “You’re on in 20 minutes,” Peter says as he nibbles on your earlobe. “I’m sure we’ll make good use of our time until then.” He winked before making his way down your body, stopping at your hips. His hands make quick work of your jeans, tugging the tight fabric off along with your underwear. Peter glances up at you with faux innocence in his eyes before he pulls your legs into his shoulders, his hot breath fanning over your cunt. After what feels like an eternity, he finally jerks forward and buries his head between your thighs and drags his tongue over your clit. You stifle a moan as Peter moves quickly, his lips encapsulating your clit as he plunges two of his fingers inside of you. Peter’s fingers are long and calloused and he curls them in just the right way. Immediately, your fingers are tangled in his hair as you attempt to pull him closer to you. You pull just a bit too hard and a low groan emits from Peter’s lips; Peter can feel you tighten around his fingers every time he moans into you. Your hips jerk forward as Peter speeds up, adding another finger as he does so.  You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood as you spasm around his fingers, a breathy whimper escaping your lips. Peter laps up the last of your juices before crawling on top of you.

            “I’m still not over how good you are at that,” You pant. Peter slams his lips on yours, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth-- you can taste yourself on his lips, but you don’t really mind. “Time?”

            “We got 10 minutes,” You smirk.

            “Perfect.” You shimmy out from below Peter, falling to your knees in front of him. He melts like putty in your hands as you pull off his jeans; Peter’s cock was throbbing and stiff by the time you took it in your hand. He groans, his hips snapping forward in an attempt to get more friction. You press kisses to his lower abdomen, intentionally neglecting his rock-hard dick while doing so. You kiss your way back up his body, chuckling as Peter tries to grind into your thigh.

            “C-C’mon, we’re gonna run out of time.” Peter whines. He quickly repositions himself so he’s on top of you, his hands holding himself up. “You ready, babe?” You nod, and Peter grins.

Peter’s hips snap forward, pushing his cock into your throbbing cunt. He stretches you deliciously, a pleasurable burning sensation spreading between your hips as Peter begins to move. 

            “Fuck-- you’re tight,” Peter huffs, his thrusts becoming quicker and more rhythmic as the time passed. Your nails dig into Peter’s back as he thrusts harder, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the small room along with your moans and gasps. Peter pulls your leg onto his shoulder, allowing him to thrust deeper than before.

            “Oh-- fuck, Peter, you feel so good--” That seems to spur Peter on, his head dipping down to meet your lips. He moans into your mouth, your teeth clashing together as your lips move sloppily. The man above you is panting, his hot breath hitting your face as he pounds into you. He’s sweaty, his silver hair sticking to his forehead. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Peter brushes the spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl, a strained moan leaving your lips. Peter’s thrusts become uneven and you can tell he’s close-- you are, too. 

            “You gonna come, baby?” You ask, and Peter can only nod. Your hand grapes the back of his neck, tugging him down so you can whisper in his ear. “Come for me, sugar,” He does exactly that, his hips rapidly snapping into yours as he emptied himself inside of you. Peter’s orgasm triggered your own, your cunt tightening around him as you threw your head back. 

            You’re both sweaty and disheveled by the time you both came down from your climaxes, both you and Peter decorated by dark red hickies. You chuckle quickly at Peter’s blissed-out smile, his lips pressing small kisses along your jaw. He whines as you get off the amp and begin pulling on your clothes.

            “Stay with me,” He pleads. You press a kiss to his forehead before you button up your jeans.

            “I wish I could, Maximoff, but I’m on in 5.” You turn to leave, but not before speaking up one more time. “For the record, Maximoff, you were right. You are pretty good with your fingers.”

[rarawriting]

Kiss Me Like That | Commission

Commission Posted with Permission from Anon

His eyes. It was always his eyes that got me. The way they could shine with child-like innocence on moment and then next have the seriousness of a man trice his age. That was probably how he got me here in the first place. Those beautiful blue eyes, they stared at him, into me and my soul with such longing. I was helpless to say anything but "yes".

So here I am, one of many teachers supervising the children's spring dance. Most of them are paired up and he's standing right next to me, as if he's keeping me company.

My dress shirt and slacks seem too formal of dress, here among the students and their ripped jeans and mini skirts. I believe I saw Jubilee running around in a highlighter yellow tube-top with a hot pink and black leopard print leather Mini skirt, well at least until Logan had caught sight of her and dragged her up to her room to change. Oh hell, even Summers is wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. And of course this one, the one next to me, is wearing the rattiest jeans he has and a brown shirt that claims he's "Raised on the street" and has several Sesame Street characters on it. But as bad as it sounds, it's cute on him. Endearing even.

Someone taps my shoulder and turning it's him, asking if I would like to dance. I haven't noticed until that moment that the DJ (our very own Jay Guthrie.. I think. It is not my fault, there are...what? Five or six of them here with a few more at home? Really you cannot blame me) has moved onto slow songs for couples.

Looking over to the corner I can see Summers and Emma dancing, and Gambit trying to get Logan to dance with him. Ha! Jubilee and Katherine are joining the Cajun now. It won't be long now until he's out here too.

He's still talking and I didn't notice...damn. Why is he apologizing? Oh no, he thinks I don't want to dance with him. Quickly, I assure him I do want to dance, I was merely distracted by the spectacle going on in the corner. He looks over and breaks into a grin. Well I'll be damned, they got him dancing. Oh if only I had a camera, or a camcorder that would be so much better.

The music changes from some pop song to a slow-ish country one I believe. He takes my hand and my heart skips a beat. The warmth surprises me, I thought his hands would be cold, you know, from his mutation. But I guess I was wrong.

Gently he tugs on my hand and starts leading me out onto the dance floor. Some of the students stop to stare, probably due to the sight of me going to dance, rather than the man who is leading me out. The further into the crowd we get the closer he drifts to me, and I just have to ask if he's sure. If he wants to dance with me I mean.

"Bobby!" a voice calls over the crowd and it parts slightly. Oh damn it all to the seven hells, what is Lorna doing here?

He smiles politely and waves at her, and turns to keep walking, seemingly intent on reaching the middle of the crowd. But she would just have to keep speaking, the harlot.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"Dancing," he replies, smile slowly changing from one that is true to one that is forced. "Or at least I'm trying to. If you'll let me go, I'll be dancing with my dance partner. But at the moment I'm talking to you and I'm trying to be nice but it's really not working.." he states in a pleasant, voice that reads 'bug off before I freeze you to the floor'. I hate that voice so much.

The green haired vixen is just standing there staring, and he tugs on my hand once again and off we go. Finally we reach the middle of the crowd and I can't help but smile a little as the dj keeps playing the same song on a loop. I wonder if Bobby has paid him to do this or if he's doing it of his own accord. Either way I'll have to thank him later..

Slowly as the song starts once again we start dancing, Bobby's hands on my shoulders, mine on his hip. Slowly rocking back and forth he inches closer to me, but not so much that it would really be noticeable.

As what I assume is the chorus starts to play, he's pressed against me and he slowly lowers his head to rest on my shoulder. Thank God for small blessings like being the same height..or almost the same height. I think there's a few inches between us, but at least it's not like Remy and Logan. Though it is amusing.

You shouldn't kiss me like this Unless you mean it like that Cause I'll just close my eyes And I won't know where I'm at We'll get lost on this dance floor Spinnin' around And around And around And around

My heart skips a beat as he lifts his head and brings his face oh so close to mine.

They're all watchin' us now They think we're falling in love They'd never believe we're just friends When you kiss me like this I think you mean it like that If you do baby kiss me again

Gently his lips brush mine and there's a spark, an instant connection and when he pulls back there's a shy smile on his face. Smiling back I tug him even closer and take a quick glance around. Everyone else has stopped dancing, they're watching us. I think I see Scott paying Remy for something or another. Oh well, probably none of my business.

We take another turn around and the song yet again keeps playing. Bobby seems content to just keep going, and I'm afraid if the song stops, then all of this'll come crashing down on me. Like everything in my life.

You shouldn't kiss me like this Unless you mean it like that Cause I'll just close my eyes And I won't know where I'm at We'll get lost on this dance floor Spinnin' around And around And around And around

He kisses me again and this time it's more than just a shy brush of the lips. My brain barely registers that we've stopped dancing and are just standing there, lips entwined with one another.

Finally he pulls away and the only thing that registers in my brain- other than Bobby just kissed me twice- is that the music is still playing. Bobby seemingly recovers first and starts to move again and when I can form a coherent thought I smile at him. "Bobby," I ask, as a few more brain cells start to come back to me.

"Yeah?"

"What was-"

"I figured it was the best way to come out."

"Oh well, I suppose that's one way. I am happy to have helped you." I know my voice was getting cold, but I feel used. Was the only reason he even asked me to dance and actually kissed me was because he just needed a way to come out of the closet? Oh yes, we can't simply just tell our friends let's use the gay man..

"It was better than writing a book about it non?" He asks, trying to tease me, the laughter clear in those beautiful blue eyes. I still feel used though, and don't really feel for joking.

"I suppose. Now, if you're through using me, I would like to go to my room now." His face falls and he steps away, looking so very confused.

"Jean-Paul?" he asks softly, and I'm hoping the others cannot hear us over the music.

"Oui?" I ask tersely, trying to keep my face neutral. Just let me go, I think, I pray. Just let me go so I can run to my room and hide.

"JP, I'm sorry if it seemed like I was using you, but...I was hoping that you'd get the message too. I just wanted you to know...I-I think I love you." he whispers, looking away as if he is waiting for me to yell at him.

I am a fool and I should know better. Bobby Drake does not use people.

Stepping closer, I gently take his face in my hand and lift it to look at me. "Love me?" he flinches slightly but nods just the same. "Bien. Robert I am sorry. I'm a fool. I should know you would never use me..I. I think I love you as well."

His face lights up like, well, I cannot think of a simile right now and he throws his arms around me and kisses me again.

As the cat-calling and whistling starts, he pulls away and blushes. Smiling I wrap an arm around him and motion to Guthrie to cut the music.

The clapping and whistling and cat-calling still continues, only louder now and Bobby huddles closer to my side. The poor man, this is probably too much for him right now. Scanning the crowd I catch sight of something I've never seen.

"Jubilation!" I call, hoping to grab her attention. She shuts up and looks to me. "Look behind you."

She turns and squeals in joy and of course catches everyone's attention.

"WOLVIE! GUMBO!" she squeals as they ignore her and keep on trying to suck each other's face off. Soon the other girls start as well and it gives Bobby and I the perfect opportunity to take our leave.

Slipping out into the gardens, my hand slips from around his shoulder to his hand. His smile is shy, but true and my heart can't help but speed up.

"Thanks for that."

"Pas de problem. Besides, I do believe that Remy, Scott and Logan had a bet going on us. Only fair." Bobby laughs and leans closer, taking his hand from mine and hesitantly wraps his arm around my waist. Looking to me, he seems to wait for me to tell him 'No' and I have to remind myself that I'm probably his first...what? Boyfriend? Lover? Fuck-buddy?

Telling myself to just shut up and enjoy the moment we keep walking. Somehow we end up by the lake and with the full moon shining on the glassy surface it's perfect. Bobby sits down and I follow suit, wondering what he has planned.

Lying back, he stretches and motions for me to join him. Grass stains or not, it'll be worth it if I can just hold him. And he has the same idea, curling up to me and rests his head on my shoulder. Smiling and playing with his shaggy hair, I wrap my arms around him and hold him close.

We don't say anything, we don't need to. We just lay there, watching the stars.

After what feels like eternity, I notice that Bobby's breathing has become softer and more even. Looking he's fallen asleep and he's even cuter when he's asleep. So innocent, so carefree. Putting my head back down, I feel my eyes slip shut.

This feels so right, me holding him. I feel so complete.

But you don't even know what you are to him. my logical side tells me and all I have to say to that is to bug off. We'll figure it out in the morning. Right now though, I'm just content to lay here, with Bobby in my arms, close.

Sleep closes in around me and I know I have a smile on my face. "Bon nuit mon amour." I whisper and drift off.

[thebeckyjolene]

Road Less Traveled

X-Men

Charles Xavier x Y/N Xavier

Summary

Based off the song of the same name by Lauren Alaina. Y/N is the wife of Charles, who is also a fellow mutant, who can control plant life and is also a music teacher at the school.

"Alright, today's music class is being held outside today, seeing as the weather is beautiful out and we can see all the plant life that is here today. Here's a song that I came up with." Y/N said as she began to strum the guitar and began to sing. Unbeknown to her, Charles was observing her and her class.

Why do you keep on staring?

That mirror, mirror, it ain't fair at all (mmh)

Dress sizes can't define, don't let the world decide what's beautiful

No

You won't make yourself a name if you follow the rules

History gets made when you're acting a fool

So don't hold it back and just run it

Show what you got and just own it

No, they can't tear you apart

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled

Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Oh, ooh whoa, oh, ooh whoa

Take the road less traveled on

Don't follow anyone

March to the rhythm of a different drum (mmh)

Why do we analyze, break out, and criticize the crazy ones?

Oh

You won't make yourself a name if you follow the rules

History gets made when you're acting a fool

So don't hold it back and just run it

Show what you got and just own it

No, they can't tear you apart, no

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled

Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Oh, ooh whoa, oh, ooh whoa

Take the road less traveled on

Oh, ooh whoa, oh, ooh whoa

Take the road less traveled on

Put your hands up, show me that you're one of a kind

Put your hands up, let me hear your voice tonight

Oh

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled

Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled on

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled

Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Oh, ooh whoa, oh, ooh whoa

Take the road less traveled on

Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel

Don't be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Traveled on

Take the road less traveled on

After finishing the song, all the students gave Y/N a round of applause for the beautiful song. Looking up, Y/N saw Charles and warmly smiled at him.

"Alright, children, good work today. Top marks and class is dismissed. Don't forget to say hello to Professor Xavier as you leave." Y/N said as the children left and they greeted the Professor hello.

"Y/N, my love, you sang beautifully. What gave you the inspiration for this?" Charles asked his wife as the couple walked inside for their break before classes resumed for the last part of the day.

"Well, it's you. And the love that I have for you and the journey that we have taken together. May we have many more years like this, darling." Y/N said as Charles pulled her onto his lap for a beautiful kiss.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Wherever you will go by Charlene Soraia for the drabble ask

Nonnie, I think you’re trying to kill me. That was so...so heartbreakingly sweet. I knew the version by The Calling, but DAMN.

Anywho - thank you for the ask. The first time I listened to it - I was gonna write Ro x Loki from her perspective, but then I gave it a second listen and got a really sweet idea for another pairing.

Wherever You Will Go

Marie x Shuri

Summary: Shuri’s got it bad, but with her responsibilties, can she be there for Marie the way she wants to?

Warnings: Bit of angst, Shuri’s majorly crushing and Marie’s oblivious, also Shuri being awkward and adorable

Word Count: 1443 words

A/N: This does have a bit of spoilers for What We Do To Live (like what I’m doing with Shuri’s character, that sort of thing)

--

Shuri knew what it meant to work hard. Even before, when T’Challa ruled, she understood. But Marie’s obsessive nature took the idea to a whole other level. One that left her more than a little concerned.

Shuri stood in the doorway of Marie’s lab. She knew very well that Marie was oblivious to her presence. Her hoodie was pulled up, its massive sleeves rolled down and barely short enough to reveal her fingers. Shaking her head, Shuri didn’t need to be standing next to her to know that the Cajun’s nails were bitten down to the nub.

She was obsessing. Not that Shuri blamed her – the reason was good enough. But still…

So lately, been wondering… Who will be there to take my place When I’m gone, you’ll need love To light the shadows on your face If a great wave shall fall It would fall upon us all And between the sand and stone…

Could you make it on your own? The question bounced around in the queen’s head as she noticed three empty boxes of pop tarts on the edge of the desk. They looked like an attempt at a tower, hovering over the corner and ready to fall at a moment’s notice. Shuri wondered if that’s what it was like in Marie’s brain.

Everything balanced; yet so close to crashing down.

“Marie?”

The hacker either didn’t hear or didn’t register that Shuri had spoken. Not surprising. Normally it took a couple tries. But Shuri didn’t mind. She walked closer, her feet almost silent against the floor. When she was just behind Marie’s chair, she realized she had earbuds in. They were blaring music and Marie’s fingers, a blur against the keys, were making an odd sort of music on their own.

It was desperation that drove Marie to points like this. In the year the two had known each other, that was one of the first things she had learned. Taking a seat in one of the spare chairs, she propped her arms on her knees and simply watched. It was fascinating to see someone excel at something Shuri didn’t like enough to grasp.

Her thumb ran over her bracelet, the darker part of her mind drifting. Marie lived in a world where people were special. They were mutants. Or royalty. Or enhanced individuals. She was the only one deemed “normal,” but she was so far from it.

“She’s lost weight, Shuri.”

“My Queen, I don’t remember the last time she left the lab.”

“Are you going to tell her she can’t keep this up or am I?”

Between the others working in the lab and Bucky, everyone kept an eye on the girl. She had wormed her way into hearts out of her sheer dedication to help Wakanda and find her family. A year spent searching and a year spent helping them.

If I could, then I would I'll go wherever you will go Way up high or down low I'll go wherever you will go

Shuri knew and appreciated the responsibilities she had for Wakanda, but there was something to Marie she wanted to understand. She wanted to be there for her. She wanted to support this girl.

But would she always be able to?

Sighing softly, Shuri pushed herself to her feet. Marie wouldn’t be “present” for a while. Maybe she would try again this evening. “I’ll see you later, Marie.”

When the door hissed behind Shuri, fingers stilled. The clatter of keys came a halt. Marie looked over her shoulder, teeth worrying her lip. Threatening to draw blood. Her eyes never wavered, watching the queen’s departure. When she was out of sight, Marie took a small breath and went back to work.

And maybe I'll work out A way to make it back some day To watch you, to guide you Through the darkest of your days

“You let yourself fall so hard, Princess.”

Shuri rolled her eyes, some of that childish nature returning so easily. “I haven’t been a princess in a few years, Barnes,” knowing that it would be better to focus on the title than the comment. Bucky had grown too good at arguing with her.

“Yeah, but I don’t see a queen when you act like that same snot nosed kid I first met.” Bucky chuckled as he knocked shoulders with her, the vibranium metal of his arm glinting in the sunlight.

Oh, how she had come to rely on his friendship. Bucky coming to Wakanda was unexpected, but she would never think twice about giving up their friendship. He was a good man. Someone she could come to for advice even holding the mantels she did.

“I keep thinking about the fact that I’m Queen of Wakanda. I have a whole country to lead.” She paused at the railing, looking out at the kingdom she would die for. “Not only that, I’m the Black Panther. After seeing what happened to T’Challa…” She hesitated. The words stayed lodged in her throat, making a home for themselves there.

If a great wave shall fall It'd fall upon us all Well I hope there's someone out there Who can bring me back to you

Bucky squeezed her shoulder. “I know. He was a good man. And I’m sorry he’s not here anymore.” They were always sorry. Sorry for so many things.

Shuri blinked away tears, a watery smile appearing as she waved him off. “I don’t mind being Queen or Black Panther. I simply worry about the day where she trusts me…and I wouldn’t be able to come back to her.”

If I could, then I would I'll go wherever you will go Way up high or down low I'll go wherever you will go

Shuri had kept her silent promise, returning to Marie that evening. However, she came to a surprise when she saw that the lab was empty. “Marie?” She stepped inside, looking around. There was no sign of an altercation. If anything…

The room looked cleaner.

The three boxes of poptarts were now peeking out of the bin.

“’Ey.”

Shuri yelped, touching the necklace around her neck. Vibranium traveled over her skin instantaneously. The Black Panther suit molded to her body as she spun on her heel.

And there was Marie.

A new box of poptarts in hand. Hair in a messy bun, still wet from the shower she must have been in. She’d even changed clothes.

“You…You showered.”

Wow, Bucky would be grinning like that stupid cat of his if he heard her utter those words.

A small blush tinged Marie’s cheeks. “Uh…oui, I did. I’m not an animal,” she joked. They both knew it didn’t go unnoticed that the suit disappeared while she set the box down.

“I know,” Shuri assured her, taking a step closer. “We leave that title to the broken white boy.”

Marie snorted. It was a surprisingly cute sound matched with a scrunch of her nose that made the lines at the corners of her eyes more prominent. She smiled and laughed like that a lot. “I…” She hesitated. “I found it.”

“The Raft?” Shuri knew how hard Marie had been looking. This wasn’t a small feat by any means. “That’s amazing.” Marie smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Shuri’s eyes drifted to her fingers, noticing how she plucked at the edge of the cardboard. There was dried blood where she’d bit at the skin. “What is it?”

Marie shrugged, trying not to sound heartbroken as she asked, “What if she’s not there?”

Shuri came to her side. Her hand instantly found Marie’s, giving it a small and reassuring squeeze. She didn’t want to see this brilliant and beautiful woman spiral into her worst fears. She didn’t deserve that. Marie deserved many things, but that pain was not one of them. Softly, she promised, “Then we keep looking. It’s that simply.”

Run away with my heart Run away with my hope Run away with my love

That pained smile turned a little more genuine and finally reached her eyes. It helped Shuri relax. In that moment, she realized her heart was truly lost to this girl. Stolen by the thief that had no interest in stealing.

How cliché.

Not that Shuri minded. No, she didn’t mind one bit. She would simply have to find a way to be there. However she could, she would.

I know now, just quite how My life and love might still go on In your heart, in your mind I'll stay with you for all of time If I could, then I would I'll go wherever you will go Way up high or down low I'll go wherever you will go

--

A/N: Look, we all know I don’t do drabbles, but this was cute so I don’t feel bad.

Permanent Taglist (since now I have one? XD)

@butcherofblackwater

[citrontartellete]

Beach and Rain

Inspired on Sweater Weather do NBHD. This is my first smut in English, I hope isn´t too awful :( and I love these two so much <3 

All I am is a man

I want the world in my hands

I hate the beach

But I stand in California with my toes in the sand

 Los Angeles, CA.

The heavy gray rain clouds were already taking over the sky, the setting sun almost disappearing into the ocean illuminating the sky and the clouds in different shades of yellow, orange, red and purple. Erik´s bare feet deep on the fluffy sand, Charles at his side, their arms locked the young professor´s head on his shoulder grinning like a mad men. Erik lowered his head just a little to place a soft kiss on his husband´s brown hair. He wasn’t feeling so grumpy about their honeymoon trip anymore, he would rather be in Paris. Charles insisted on going to the beach or that they should have gone to Cuba, like Charles suggested once but, Erik refused on spot because he had a bad feeling about it.

‘Are you liking it ?’ Charles asked, resting his chin on his shoulder and staring at him with those beautiful too bright and too blue eyes ‘The trip, I mean, I know you don´t like beach that much’ Erik blinked and smiled to him with a reassuring grin.

‘Don´t worry, liebling. Anywhere with you is perfect and I´m enjoying our honeymoon very much’

‘I´m seeing that, darling, because you even left your phone at home’ they giggled and resumed their sun-setting gazing. Charles shivering lightly beside him and snuggling closer against his body, his lips getting redder, his hands cold and trembling. The cold breeze of the sea and rain, hitting on them.

‘We should go home darling, you are cold and it will be pouring at any moment now’ Charles agreed and they put their converses shoes on, taking out the excess of sand out of their clothes. interlocking their fingers walking to their car but, they didn´t made it. The pouring rain started before they got inside the car. Now they are soaking wet, shivering and laughing like two fools.

Driving home was relatively calm, if Erik wasn´t so worried about Charles state. His red lips were getting almost blue and his hair was dripping and although he tried to hide it with a smile or a ‘I am okay, darling, don´t worry’ Erik couldn´t help it. Slowly his head started to get full of thoughts of warming Charles with his own body, as soon as they got home. The thoughts getting more and more explicit by the time.

Erik could picture himself undressing Charles with a rush he didn´t know he had inside him, with no care if his love´s clothes were going to get ragged or destroyed in the process, all he had in his mind is warming him up. By kissing every bit of his pale freckled skin, marking it with soft bites, squeezing him closer by the waist, caressing Charles sides and tracing each one of his ribs with his fingertips and of course kiss his lips till they lost that awful blue-purple-ish colour. Erik could also see them, on their bed making love with urgency, rough and sweet and so much passion burning them from the inside out taking their breath away and until they are reduced to a whimpering mess.

He knows what I think about

And what I think about

One love, two mouths

One love, one house

No shirt, no blouse

Just us, you find out

Something must have given him away because Charles is staring at him now, as if he could read minds, his blue eyes a shade darker, his lips parting letting out a soft low moan. The intensity of the stare were all Erik needed to try and drive a little faster, even with the damp road and the little traffic that was starting to form making Erik get impatient and swear in German. Charles laughed and leaned in to place a soft kiss on his jaw whispering gently :

‘Just a few minutes more mein liebe…’

Erik shivered. Every time Charles called him ‘Mein Liebe’, he would shiver in anticipation. He absolutely loved it. When they reached the house, it was pouring, lightinings and thunders crossing the stormy sky. Charles only waited for Erik to lock the door before jumping on him. Wrapping himself around Erik, his arms around Erik´s neck. They kissed all tongue and teeth, exposed tongues moaning on each other´s mouth, tugging at each other´s clothes, letting out impatient noises when the other clothes’ and shoes got stuck. Erik led their way to the bedroom with impatience, sometimes stopping in the middle of the long corridor to press Charles against the wall and kiss him, squeezing him tightly against his body and rolling their hips together making Charles moan and move forward begging to be fucked right there against the wall.

‘Please Erik, please…Fuck me here…’

‘Against the wall, love ?’ He asked provocatively, placing a leg between Charles´ rubbing it on his erection, while kissing his shoulder with open-mouthed kiss, moving Charles to the rhythm he was setting by the bruising hold on Charles waist.

‘Yes, love, pleaseee….’ Charles moaned, staring at him, eyes foggy with lust and even darker, pleading.

‘No’

They fell on the bed. Erik covered Charles’ body with his gently preparing him and absolutely loving the feeling of him writhing beneath him, moving against his fingers. Charles’ running his nails on his back skin fiercely, for sure it was going to leave some marks.

‘I need you, Erik. I need you inside me, please…’ Charles whispered on his neck skin, panting and almost begging. Slowly Erik slid inside Charles, watching his face fill with pleasure, eyes closed, lips parted moaning loudly. Their bodies’ moved in sync, Charles body going up and down on the bed and their voices filling the room and being drowned by the heavy rain outside.

‘Harder, harder, harder Erik…’ Erik obeyed, slamming himself against Charles, swallowing his moans with a kiss, goosebumps rising on his flesh when Charles´ kissed his neck, licking his skin and whispering dirty thing on his ear. Erik came first, biting Charles shoulder and then whispering I love you in German, being followed by Charles a few seconds later. Erik liked the beach a little more now.

[write-the-love-story]

Let You Down

Title: Let You Down Pairing: young!Charles Xavier x Reader Word Count: 546

REQUESTED BY ANON

►► Let You Down - NF

request open send a song/lyrics/sentence and I’ll write a drabble that revolves around it.

"Darling, please let me help you," Charles whispered, his heart broke at the sight of your curled up body and the tears streaming down your face. He slowly caresses your face and wiping away the tears from your face with his thumb. "We'll find a way, Y/N."

"You can't, Charles. They're coming from me." You sobbed, bringing your hands to your aching head. The screaming in your head gets loud with every passing day.

Your life has turned into a broken record, one minute you were fine and the other was you screaming for help because the pain has become too much. You can't help but feel like a burden to Charles and the school. You know that people are talking, the kids? God, they were scared of you.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" Charles asked with a panic in voice when he saw you packing all your bags. "Y/N, stop."

"No, Charles. I'm leaving." You said, putting your clothes inside your bag as you tried so hard to avoid his eyes burning into the back of your head.

"No, Y/N. Please, we could find a way to fix this." Charles begged you, his hand gripped your arm to stop you from putting more things into your bag.

"You don't understand, Charles." You said, your voice was soft close enough for you to break into tears. "All these voices in my head get loud, I wish that I could shut them out. I'm sorry that I let you down."

"You'll never let me down, dear." He muttered into your head as he embraces your shaking figure, but he did make a mistake of taping into your head. You heard him gasping in pain and bringing his hands to his forehead as he screamed and then his body shut down.

"Charles! Charles, wake up!" You shouted a panic ran through your whole body unable to do anything other than crying. Hank showed up in the doorway. His eyes wide in panic, "What happened?" He asked, pushing Charles' wheelchair to the infirmary.

"H-he was comforting me, I feel him in my head for a split second and then he was screaming." You told Hank as you followed him to the infirmary. "It was all my fault." You fretted, running your fingers through your hair.

Hank sighed resting his hands on your shoulder so you would look at him, "It wasn't your fault, Y/N."

You shook your head, "You don't know that, Hank."

"I know that, Y/N. I know it wasn't your fault and we'll fix it." Hank reassured you, bringing you into a hug. "Do you want someone to be with you right now? I could get-"

"No, thank you, Hank. I-I just wanna be alone right now, I don't really wanna think at all." You mumbled, bringing your arms around you, you gave him a sad smile as you walked away.

By the time Charles wake up, you were already gone.

"Where's Y/N, Hank?" Charles asked, his voice was raspy as he looked around and couldn't feel your presence.

Hank looked down, he let out a deep breath, handing Charles a piece of paper, "I'm sorry, she has left, Charles."

I have to leave, please don't come after me. The words were written at the end of the letter.

[ororosmunroe]

idc I just need fics to read while on quarantine it doesn’t matter if they’re current or old or finished or unfinished, but if it’s trouble for you then don’t worry ❤️

No no it’s no problem it’s just the list has is really dated lmao (and tbh embarrassing). Anywho- 

The List 

Choose Me by Auktober (OroroRemy, one-sided OroroSinister) Rated M ( DON’T GO SNOOPING IF YOU’RE UNDERAGED >:[ )

This is a story about two thieves. Ororo can no longer control her powers. Remy and Ororo make a deal with Sinister. He becomes obsessed. Who will the two thieves choose? The Marauders or the X-Men? AU

 Forgotten Tempest by Gracefulraven (OroroLogan, OroroDoom/ one-sided OroroErik and OroroEmma) 

Things have returned to normal since Alcatrez 2 years ago. But when Ororo is knocked into the river during a battle between the brotherhood, and finds herself in the care of a handsome stranger, Victor Von Doom, with no memory what is she going to do?

Will of the Goddess: Inception by Gracefulraven (OroroLogan, OroroErik)

Two years after the last stand, Ororo and Logan steadily pull the school back together, but Ororo has been having strange dreams and her powers have been growing to uncontrollable levels and an ancient powerful mutant is on the rise. Rebooted and edited

Will of the Goddess: Tribulation by Gracefulraven (OroroLogan, OroroErik)

Following Inception the real trouble begin. Jean and Xavier are back from the dead, Apocalypse is up to something, and Ororo is stronger than ever what is the meaning behind these occurrences? What tribulations will our X-Men face? The journey starts now

Caught in the Storm by Sweetpeachytrina (OroroRemy, OroroClark, slight one-sided OroroLex)

Ororo is kidnapped and rescued by someone totally unexpected…. a crossover between smallville and xmen reviews however harsh or sweet they may be are welcomed

Second Chances by Sweetpeachytrina (OroroClark [smallville version]) 

xmen/ smallville: An sequel to Caught in the Storm….When Clark was held prisoner in Russia, it wasn’t Oliver Green that was his salvation….

Desert Rose by Sweetpeachytrina (RemyOroroLogan, love triangle) 

AU: Ororo is a woman driven by revenge. When she arrives in a small town in Texas she finds new friends, new enemies and complicated relationships. When she is force to choose between her desire for revenge or settling down will she make the right choice?

Crossing Worlds by Dark Topaz (OroroBruce W.) 

XmanBatman Storm needs a life away from being a superhero she finds it in Gotham. Which she plans to never cross but like all plans it didn’t survive.

Kiss the Girl by Flextronic (OroroScott) 

Songfic on kiss the girl by Peter Andre. Scott likes Ororo. But how will he tell her? He gets help from Thunderbird, Slipstream,Longshot, Iceman, Kitty, Tabitha, Jubilee. Will he succeed?

Gods that Die by x-Loki-x (OroroScott w/ onesided OroroAlucard[Hellsing Anime]) 

A vampire falls in love with Scott’s fiancee, Ororo.

Fools Rush In by Urd85613 (OroroKurt) 

Thanks to a deal he made with Mephisto Kurt is back from the dead. But it won’t be for long if he can’t get the woman of his dreams to fall for him before time runs out. Even with Remy’s help getting a recently dumped Ororo to open up her heart to love again so soon may prove to be to much.

Intriguing Possibilities by Darlin (OroroPietro)

Storm and Rogue’s chance meeting with Quicksilver leads to intriguing possibilities for both Ororo & Pietro. Paired together in Age of Apocalypse so why not Earth 616? A one shot. Warning, this is a PiOro, not a RoLo or an OReO & full of Quicksilver goodness.

Forces of Destiny by Sweetpeachytrina  (OroroThor)  

When Thor is banished to Earth, he seeks redemption and along his journey he finds his much more then he bargained for… Ororo/Thor

How To Avoid Getting Hit by Lightning or Not by Zeelee (OroroRogue)

Rogue felt close to Ororo because Ororo was angry, like she was. Ultimate ‘verse, femmeslash.

Phoenix Rising by Usedkitten (OroroJean) 

The power growing in Dr. Jean Grey, longs for a worthy mate. Femslash.

Brown Sugar by RebelxMusic (OroroTony)

Moved from X-Men. Tony Stark cures teenage depression, and saves Ororo Munroe from a dinosaur. Yes, I’m serious.

Superman and the Weather Witch by Fresh Breath (OroroClark) 

Their kind interested him. They were both aliens to this world except her world alienated her. What happens when two of the most unlikely pair come together and find love?

{Fics by Me} 

(Warning: All of them are poorly written with little to no initial proofreading and now ao3 won’t let me edit lmao) 

Bad Body Double Trouble (Oya!OroroLoki)

He thought she was dead. That’s why he made ‘her’.

(Re)Birth of a Goddess  (OroroLoki, OroroThor, OroroHarem [maybe on the last one])

Things rarely are as they first appear. This is especially true when it comes to people. Ororo has lived the life of a thief and a mutant. Now it is time for her to realize her true identity…as a goddess.

Paradise (OroroBucky) 

Lost

Ev’ry Time We Say Goodbye (OroroBucky)

A trip down memory lane.

Baker’s Dozen (OroroBucky, a little bit of OroroThor)

You know the one where a florist walks into a bakery?

Lemonade x Thororo Series (OroroThor)

Thor fucks up, Thor fucks up real bad. 

[imagine-that-fandom-life]

Song fics

So as of right now I've opened my request box to headcanons and song fics. There are limitations as to songs and there will be no NSFW but there will be lots of fluffiness. Love you guys and thank you s'much xx ~ Kaitlyn 😝

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Hey Lover

pairing: Peter Maximoff/reader

summary: Peter agrees to be Erik’s best man at his wedding despite one problem: he can’t dance. Thankfully, you’re there to help him

warnings: panic attack description, Peter is insecure (no surprise there)

notes: hhh it’s 4am. this is based off the song “Hey Lover” by The Daughters of Eve. listen to it while reading for maximum immersion but also it doesn’t really matter whether you do or don’t. YES Erik is marrying Charles 

taglist: @lokiqueenofasgard

            Peter Maximoff never thought he’d get to meet his dad, let alone be his best man at his wedding. Yet, there he was, his father standing in front of him asking the question, the ‘I’m-getting-married-to-your-teacher-will-you-be-my-best-man’ question. Peter was at a loss for words, his mouth going dry as his jaw absentmindedly opened and closed as he searched his brain for an answer. His head was spinning, his thoughts floating around in his head like dandelion fluff. Eventually, he found his voice and reigned in his jumble of thoughts.

            “D-definitely!” Peter’s voice is forced and unnatural, but his father didn’t seem to notice. Erik beamed before pulling Peter in for a tight hug before disappearing down the hallway, saying something about details as he left. Peter stood in silence for a moment, trying to process what the fuck just happened. His father, whom he had only known for about two years, just asked him to be best man at his wedding. His father was getting married to his TEACHER, who he had only known for about 2 years. Worst of all, Peter agreed. With enthusiasm. Peter knew exactly 0 things about the responsibilities of the best man, hell, Peter didn’t even know how to dance properly! The chaotically stressed man paced around his room, searching for a solution to his endless questions or a reprieve from his unending stress. Then, like a guardian angel sent from the heavens, like a beam of light at the end of a tunnel, you pop into his brain. 

            Peter finds himself knocking at your door before he realizes he’s doing it, his heart skipping slightly at the gentle sound of footsteps and the jiggling of the bronze door handle. The mahogany door swings open to reveal your smiling face, the bright grin faltering slightly once you notice the panic in Peter’s eyes.

            “Hey, Maximoff, what’s up?” you speak softly, watching as his eyes dart around the pattern on the carpet. It’s easy to see that Peter is having a panic attack, his hands shaking as his breathing becomes more and more uneven with each breath. You quickly invite him into your room and watch as he sits down on the ground at the foot of your bed. His hands tangle in his silver hair, gripping the shiny strands tightly as he pulls, a strangled whimper escaping his lips. Your long fingers slowly grab his wrists and pull them away from his hair, lowering them to your knees as you sit in front of him. His eyes meet yours, and Peter wordlessly conveys his panic to you. 

            “Peter, take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?” your voice is steady and clear in an oddly calming way. It grounds Peter to reality as he inhales deeply, feeling the air fill his lungs until he releases; his eyes focus on the small paper balls that you began weaving through the air as a means to distract him. Peter is in awe over the power you have over him-- within a few minutes, you managed to take Peter from mid-panic attack to completely calm, his perilous thoughts subsiding into a gentle stream of emotion. You smile once you realize Peter had settled, the paper balls falling to the floor as you turn your attention to the man on the floor.

            “You wanna talk about what got you so worked up?” Peter nods slowly, the image of his interaction with his father flooding back to him. He takes another deep breath before speaking.

            “Erik asked me to be best man at his wedding.” His voice is shallow, a wispy undertone flying with his words. 

            “Okay, I can see why that’d be stressful. Did you accept?” Peter was slightly shocked at your understanding but continued.

            “Yes, I did, and I don’t know the first thing about being a best man, and I’m fucking terrified that I’ll ruin Erik’s fucking wedding because I’m so fucking stupid that I don’t even know how to dance properly, and Charles will probably kill me if I fuck up his day and--” You gently silence Peter by pressing a finger to his lips. He shuts up immediately, his eyebrow cocking at your actions.

            “First of all, you’re not stupid. I know right now it might feel like you are, but you’re not. Erik put a lot of pressure on you and now you’re feeling the effects of that pressure.” Peter takes your hand and rises to his feet, his eyes meeting yours as you speak. “You’re going to be okay, okay? I’m going to help you, and you’re going to go down in history as the coolest, raddest best man to ever exist.”

            “You’d do that for me?” You laugh slightly at his words, taking his face in your hands.

            “I’d do anything for you, Peter,” you lightly pat his cheek before turning away from him, walking towards the old record player in the corner of your bedroom. 

            “What are you doing?” Peter questioned as you sifted through your box of records, countless classics flying through your fingers. You’re searching for a specific song, though. You grin as you spot the record, gripping it in your hands as you remove the vinyl disc from the plastic casing.

“You said you didn’t know how to dance, right?” The record is placed in the player, the small metal arm hovering over the gentle ridges. You lower the arm and turn to face Peter, walking towards him as the opening notes to “Hey Lover” by The Daughters of Eve rings throughout the room. “Well, I said I’d help you, didn’t I?”

            Peter’s eyes widen as you move closer to him, reaching out for his hands. His fingers grip yours a bit too eagerly, but you don’t mind. The silver-haired man watches you intently as you place his hands around your waist, humming the melody of the song. You catch his gaze and smile, and Peter can feel his heart flutter in his chest. It’s moments like these that Peter really understands the depth of his feelings for you, the dull ache in his chest amplified by your million dollar smiles and your warm touch. He tries not to let his feelings cloud his judgment; Peter came too close to confessing his love for you too often.

            “Alright, Peter, now you just have to feel the song. Just… follow my lead and try not to step on my toes.” he chuckles. The two of you glide through the room, and the joy in the moment somehow makes Peter sad. He loves being this close to you, he’s cherishing and savoring the hope that you might love him as much as he loves you but then it hits him; you deserve better than him.

            “Whatcha thinking about, Peter?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughtful trance, a smile forcing its way onto his face.

            “Nothing too important.” He knows you can tell he’s lying, but you also realize that he simply doesn’t want to talk about it. You pull him a bit closer.

            “So, your dad is getting married.” You say as you extend your arm a bit. “Do you ever think you’ll get married?” Peter swallows hard at your statement. He almost spills his guts right then and there, those three simple words caught in the back of his throat. Instead, he splutters the first thing that comes to his mind.

            “If I can find someone who stands me for that long.” Peter cringes at your reaction to his answer, a sadness overtaking the cheeriness in your eyes. 

            “You’re a good guy, Peter. It makes me sad that you can’t see that.” He scoffs.

            “I’m a total loser, I’m incredibly annoying and clingy and I own almost nothing of value. I’m surprised that you stuck around so long-- whoever decides to marry me probably deserves better.” Hurt flashes through your eyes and Peter hates himself for being so honest. His wishes he could take it all back and say something shallow and meaningless but you made him feel so safe and so welcome that he decided it’d be a good idea to throw a pity party for himself. The graceful movement stops, the song that as playing looping for the third time as you gaze at Peter sadly. 

            “Peter, please don’t say that about yourself.” You whisper, raising your hand to brush his cheek. Peter stares at the floor, his hand coming up to cover yours. “I care about you, Peter, and I can tell you now you’re not annoying or clingy-- you’re charming and caring, and even if you’re not the wealthiest person on Earth that doesn’t matter. You’re kind and generous and passionate and smart and--” You stop mid-sentence, contemplation crossing your face. You seemingly make a decision, because you grab the back of Peter’s neck and pull his lips to yours. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you flush against his body, his heart racing faster than it ever had while he ran from bullets. You pull away slowly, Peter’s nose brushing gently against yours.

            “Just listen to the song.” You whisper, and Peter takes a moment to listen to the lyrics following the gentle melody, his breath hitching as your eyes pour into his with the same burning passion that his heart has been feeling for years. At that moment, all his stress and panic and doubt melt away and all he feels is love.

            Hey, hey, hey, lover

            You don't have to be a king

            Hey, hey, hey, lover

            You don't have to have a thing

            For I'll be satisfied

            Long as you are my guy

            Just give me

            True love and understanding

            True love and understanding

[ao3feed-cherik]

Moon Light

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3j2MSHl

by Wolvesilver_Para_Llevar

«But in return I want the son first that you give to him.» Mecano— Hijo de la Luna.

Words: 522, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Erik Lehnsherr, Charles Xavier, Magda (X-Men), Brian Xavier, Sharon Xavier

Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Magda (X-Men)

Additional Tags: Songfic, Sad and Happy, Dubious Consent, Magic, community: xmen-on-lj

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3j2MSHl

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Home

pairing: Peter Maximoff/reader

summary: Peter Maximoff wants to feel at home.

Song: Home by Cavetown

Warnings: insecurity issues, abandonment issues

other notes: holy fuck, i’m really proud of this one. Peter Maximoff deserves the world and I’m determined to give it to him. 

(gif is not mine, credit to @shhh-no-ones-home​)

________________________________________________________________

Often I am upset that I cannot fall in love but I guess

This avoids the stress of falling out of it

        Peter remembers the days he spent in his mother’s basement, lying on his bed absentmindedly staring at the ceiling. He remembers the crippling feeling of loneliness, the fear he felt during those late nights, the anger that festered in him every day he was alone. He didn’t believe in love-- at least, he didn’t think he could ever love or be loved. Of course, he loved his mother and his sisters, that was a given, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was dragging them down. He couldn’t shake the idea that he was a leech, a loser that was so emotionally drained all the time that he still lived in his mother’s basement at the age of 27. He didn’t think he really deserved love. Sometimes he made excuses for his feelings; every rom-com involves heartbreak, after all, and if he never fell in love he’d never have to feel that. But Peter couldn’t help but yearn for someone to love him, even if it did involve a bit of heartbreak. All Peter wanted was to feel at home.

Are you tired of me yet?

I'm a little sick right now but I swear

When I'm ready I will fly us out of here

        Peter remembers the day he met you. He remembers the way you smiled at him when he introduced himself, and the way butterflies erupted in his stomach and the way his heart skipped a beat any time you looked his way. He suddenly felt the need to be close to you, the urge to have you pay attention to him and only him. He got scared, scared that he was being too clingy, too needy, scared that you’d get sick of him and run away like everyone else. He may be the fastest man on Earth, but he could never keep up with those who ran away from him. He waited for the day that you’d snap, the day that you’d confess that he’s been nothing but a bother and a burden and that you wanted nothing to do with him. That day never came. Peter soon saw his fears grow into something much bigger. He was absolutely terrified of the fact that he was falling in love with you. The scariest part? He started to believe that you were falling in love with him, too. 

(Mmm) I'll cut my hair

(Mmm) To make you stare

(Mmm) I'll hide my chest

And I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

Ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Ooh

        Peter remembers his schemes, his elaborate plans and stunts done only to get your attention. He remembers the day he walked into your classroom with bright red hair, he recalls the flabbergasted look on your face that preceded your faux cries of pain. He quickly dyed his hair back to it’s original silver hue the moment he realized you didn’t like it. He always finds himself smiling whenever he thinks of the way you stroked his hair the day it went from red to silver, the soft stroke of your gentle hands as you whispered into his ear. He leaned into your touch, and for a second, he wasn’t afraid of being in love. That was only for a second though, and the dreadful thoughts and beliefs that he was on borrowed time returned. He figured the only way to stay sane was to stay away from you. He soon discovered that being away from you was much, much worse than being afraid. 

Turn off your porcelain face

I can't really think right now and this place

Has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane

        Peter remembers the strong feeling of being completely overwhelmed. He remembers how many things he felt whenever he got too close to you. He always seemed confused, yet content. The mansion, however, was a different story. It never stopped being overwhelming, it sometimes got so bad that he had to find a corner and hide away for a while; he needed to shut off his brain. There were days where it got really bad, and Peter would refuse to leave his room, collapsing under the pressure of being an X-Man, of being a mutant, of just being Peter Maximoff. He thought he was going insane-- he really believed that he wouldn’t make it. But then you’d be there to comfort him, to keep him grounded in reality for a while, and he’d be all right. 

Are you dead?

Sometimes I think I'm dead

Cause I can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head

But I don't wanna fall asleep just yet

        Peter remembers the times he spent with you in your room. He remembers the way he’d lay his head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat as you’d gently stroke his hair and listen to the rain. He’d always been so hesitant when it came to physical affection; Peter was unimaginably touch starved yet so convinced that he didn’t deserve affection that he avoided it overall. Once he did allow physical affection, he couldn’t get enough of it. He was always craving it, always desperate to feel your skin on his. He relished every touch like it was the last, he lived in the warmth that you radiated for as long as he could each night because he was so very afraid that he’d be cold again. It was heaven. Every morning that he woke up in your arms felt like a dream, and he often wondered if he actually was dead. He wondered if a mission had gone south and he’d been sent to heaven where he could be with you forever. Every night he was afraid to fall asleep, he was so very afraid that you’d be gone when he woke up. He always fell asleep with a tight grip on you, pulling you as close as possible. Almost as if you were going to disappear.

(Ooh) My eyes went dark

(Ooh) I don't know where

(Ooh) My pupils are

But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here

        Peter remembers the feeling of utter emptiness the first time you fought. He remembers the shame he felt when you walk away from him, but he felt a dreadful, crippling fear overtake him more so than shame. He’d been reckless on a mission, he’d gotten too cocky during a fight and it almost cost him his life. He remembers seeing you walk into the hospital wing of the mansion and he remembers how horrible he felt when you started crying. He remembers how disappointed in him you were, how worried you seemed. Neither of you shouted, no voices were raised, but your words hurt worse than yelling ever could. You weren’t mean, no, you were concerned. You expressed how much you cared for him, how badly you wanted him to be happy and safe. He pushed you away, and the moment you left the room he broke down. Hank thought he was in pain due to his injuries, and Peter was too embarrassed to admit what he was crying about. He went to sleep cold that night. 

Get a load of this monster

He doesn't know how to communicate

His mind is in a different place

Will everybody please give him a little bit of space?

         Peter remembers the first time he discovered his mutation. He remembered running down the street with his friends and before he knew it he was 30 miles away from his house. Sometimes, when he sleeps, he hears their screams. They all called him a mistake, an abomination, a monster. After a while, he started to believe it. His friends all ran away, and Peter resided in the basement from then on. He did everything he could to be liked, to be accepted; he hid his mutation, broke 8 world records, hell, he even went to the Olympics and won. They had taken away his medals once they found out he was a mutant, recounted his records, and exposed him to the world. He shut himself off from the world, believing that all he’d ever be was a failure. An unlovable, mutant, monster. 

Get a load of this train wreck

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

But little do we know, the stars

Welcome him with open...

        Peter remembers the days where the shame consumed him. He remembers the tears he shed alone in his basement. His intrusive thoughts and insecurities couldn’t be drowned out by any of his Pink Floyd songs. His past failures and disappointments couldn’t be diminished by his high scores he got on his stolen Ms. Pacman machine. There were days where he wished he could be anyone else. He projected himself onto the characters on his T.V. and in his video games. He adopted the personalities of all his favorite characters until he was a shadow of his former self, a mangled bunch of nothing that couldn’t cover up what Peter was. He got so confused, losing touch with who he was until he couldn’t tell the difference. He lost sight of where the fiction ended and Peter began. It was all so ironic, he was so desperate to be anyone other than Peter Maximoff and when he got his wish, he wanted nothing more than to be himself again. The shame only grew from there.

Get a load of this monster

He doesn't know how to communicate

His mind is in a different place

Will everybody please give him a little bit of space?

        Peter remembers the first time he saw you use your mutation. He remembers the way you moved through the air and sent little bursts of energy across the room. In that moment, Peter didn’t see you as a monster. He didn’t think you were unlovable or evil or a mistake. He thought you were amazing. He thought you were extravagant. He felt a swell of pride as you bested Warren in a fight, he loved you with all of his heart. It didn’t matter to him that you were a mutant-- he loved you regardless. That’s when he realized real love can’t be lessened or dampened by something as futile as a mutation. Peter realized everyone who called him a monster didn’t really care about him. He stopped thinking about them and started thinking about how much he loved you, how he’d lay down his life for you. Suddenly, Peter wasn’t so afraid.

Get a load of this train wreck

His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet

But little do we know, the stars

Welcome him with open arms.

Peter remembers the day that he realized he didn’t have to hide anymore. He remembers the way you’d told him he had nothing to be ashamed of. You had looked him in the eyes and told him you fell in love with Peter Maximoff, the clumsy, caring, gentle, kindhearted man that he was. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff and all of his hurt and insecurities and fears and shame. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff and his great taste in music and his unique sense of humor and his amazing ability to best anyone at Pacman. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff, the silver mutant who had previously believed he didn’t deserve love and that no one could ever really love him. You fell in love with Peter Maximoff and for the first time in his life, Peter wasn’t ashamed to be Peter Maximoff anymore. 

Time is

Slowly

Tracing his face

But strangely he feels at home in this place

        Peter is a bit older now, and so are you. Peter loves to look back on his life every now and then just to see how far he’s come. Peter isn’t ashamed, nor is he afraid. He’s content. He’s happy. He’s unashamedly himself. He’s married. He’s married to the first person he’s ever loved. He’s married to the only person who made him unafraid of love. He’s married to the only person who could keep him grounded when everything got too overwhelming. He’s married to the person who always kept him warm when he slept. He’s married to the person who only ever wanted him to be safe and happy. He’s married to the first person who made him unafraid. He’s married to the only person who showed him that being Peter Maximoff wasn’t a bad thing. He’s married to the only person who ever made him feel at home.

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Anyone Who Knows What Love Is Will Understand

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary/request: Peter suddenly finds out what the gaping hole in his memory is hiding.

warnings: cheating, angst, language, uh like a teenie tiny mention of sex but like its teenie tiny

notes: which one of you fuckers let me watch Black Mirror, huh? no one asked for this but I feel like shit for not posting yesterday and inspiration struck. also sorry if this is incoherent i didnt edit it and its 2 am

Based off Black Mirror episode 4 season 2, “White Christmas” and the song Anyone Who Knows What Love Is (Will Understand) by Irma Thomas

            Peter was sure he had heard the song before-- the soft, melodic voice of Irma Thomas singing the lyrics to Anyone Who Knows What Love Is. His fingers drummed the beat steadily on his stomach as he waited for you. Peter was laying on the couch, his feet laying on the armrest as he absentmindedly listened to the radio. He smiled as he held a small remote in his hand-- the same remote that controlled the technology behind his eyes. Peter’s thumb flicked the center button, swiping his finger in circles until he accessed his photos. There Peter sat, a dumb, lovestruck smile on his face as he shuffled through photos of you.

            The first photo he studied was from your first date; Peter had taken you to a drive in and you watched Grease. The two of you were humming the tune to Greased Lightning for the next week. Peter could recall the way you lied in the back of Logan’s truck, his jacket wrapped tightly around you to keep you warm. That didn’t stop Peter from using his body heat to warm you too, of course.

            The second photo he stumbled upon was taken at Kurt’s 21st birthday party when you had given Kurt a speech about his accomplishments and how much everyone loved him. The third photo was from the same party, this time being taken by Scott. It was a photo of you and Peter drunkenly making out against a wall. Peter remembered the intoxicated giggles that the pair of you were reduced to after Scott showed you the photo.

            The final photo Peter examined was taken just a few nights ago at a bar you and Peter had visited with Logan and Charles. You were sitting in a dimly lit booth beside Peter, a bright smile on your face. Peter remembers-- actually, Peter can’t remember much from that night. He got drunk fast and the rest of the evening was nothing more than a dark blur, a void of nothingness. He tried shuffling through his memories, but even the tech in his eyes seemed to have failed him. Either that, or he deleted them. Why would he delete them?

            Peter’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, the jingle of the doorknob somehow snapping Peter out of his trance. The song from before had apparently repeated, but Peter didn’t mind. The silver-haired man got up from his position to greet you at the door, but you had moved from the doorway to the bedroom quite quickly. By the time he reached the bedroom, you were sitting on the bed facing away from him. The air that hung in the room was tense, and the affection that Peter was prepared to give felt oddly inappropriate. 

            Your face was dark, the light in the room casting shadows across your features. Your eyes were trained on the carpet floor, and Peter couldn’t help but notice the pained vacancy behind your pupils. Steadily, your breath came in short bursts. You didn’t look at Peter when he walked in or when he sat next to you. No, your eyes never left the floor.

            “Y/n? Are you okay?” Peter’s voice was hesitant and concerned. You didn’t answer, instead, you took a deep breath.

            “Do you know that feeling when you learn something about someone you love, and it’s so… so terrible that it hurts to love them? That feeling of guilt and hopelessness when you learn that someone you poured your heart and soul into wasn’t who you thought they were? And-.. and you can never look at them the same again?” The sorrow in your voice felt like a punch to Peter’s chest. The truth is, Peter knew that feeling all too well. He didn’t respond, though, realizing that it was a rhetorical question. Your eyes stayed on the floor. “I woke up this morning and I loved you. The night before I fell asleep and I loved you. The entire day before that night I went to work and I trained and I learned and I taught and through all of that I loved you. I love you and I have for as long as I can remember.” You were getting angrier and angrier with every word, but not violent angry. Hurt angry. “Can you say the same?”

            “O-of course I can, babe, what’s wrong?” For the first time your eyes tore away from the floor and met Peter’s, tears threatening to fall. There was something unfamiliar in your eyes and it made Peter so incredibly afraid.

            “Can you?” Your voice is venomous and pained. “Can you really, Peter? Because I don’t think you can.” The song from before was still playing and looping, but neither of you two really cared. 

            “What do you mean? Where is this coming from?” With that, Peter receives a file from you. He scrambles for the remote in his pocket, quickly lighting up his eyes to see whatever caused you such sorrow. It’s an image of Peter and a girl he can’t recognize in an alleyway. For a second, he doesn’t realize what exactly they’re doing, but then it hits him like a train.

            “That image was sent to everyone. Every single fucking person I’ve ever interacted with knows that my boyfriend is a--” You cut yourself off. Even after all this, you still care for him and you don’t want to hurt him. “Why, Peter? Why?” 

            Peter couldn’t respond. He was still staring blankly at the photo desperately trying to make sense of everything. The gap in his memory-- that must be what this is. Peter was feeling so many things at once, but he mostly felt embarrassed and cowardly. Instead of dealing with whatever this was, he deleted the memory-- seemingly hoping that it would simply disappear. He flicked the remote and the image disappeared, leaving Peter to sit and process the information he was just given. Unfortunately for him, his girlfriend wanted answers as to why he was screwing someone that wasn’t her in an alley.

            “I…” Peter said softly. He didn’t want to admit it, but Peter knew he had to. “I wiped it.”

            “You what?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you understood the logic behind wiping it, but you never thought Peter could be so… so cowardly.

            “I wiped the memory. I can’t-- I don’t know what happened. I must’ve wanted to, uh, let it go.” Peter expected outrage, he expected harsh words or tears or shouting-- all of those things well-deserved, but they never came. You didn’t scream or shout or lash out. You just laughed. You laughed a humorless, dry laugh, and it took Peter a minute to realize your uncontrollable laughter was meshed with an onslaught of sobbing. 

            “You-- you wanted to let it go,” you laughed. Peter started crying, knowing what was coming. “You wanted to let it go.”

            “I know that was stupid and fucking cowardly-- I would take it back if I could and I am so, so sorry, for everything.” Peter pleaded. Your laughter came to a slow stop, leaving the tears in its wake.

            “You wanna know something ironic? I would’ve trusted you more if you kept the memories.” you sniffled. “You wanna know why? Because then I would be sure that you didn’t mean it. That it wasn’t 100% your fault. But I can’t be sure, not now, because you don’t remember. You can’t tell me if you meant it because you don’t know.” You stand up and Peter cries harder as you walk away from him. He’s quick to follow you, reaching out for your warm embrace. Peter is ready to beg, to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. 

            “Maybe you were right. Maybe we both need to… to let things go.” You walk over to the man in front of you, pulling him into a tight hug. He clings to you, his tears soaking your shirt-- you’re crying, too. Peter didn’t know you were holding your remote until it was too late. With the flick of your finger, you were reduced to nothing more than a bumbling blur. Your picture-perfect features that Peter loved were gone, leaving nothing in their wake. The comforting sound of your voice that made Peter feel warm and safe were replaced by a deep gurgling gibberish. You-- or, your silhouette, grabbed your jacket and walked out the door. Peter was alone, the only sound breaking the silence other than his heartbroken crying was the melodic sound of Irma Thompson’s voice.

I know to ever let you go

Oh, it’s more than I could ever stand

Oh but,

Anyone who knows what love is will understand

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Pigeon

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: Peter Maximoff is blowing away with the breeze without you to anchor him.

warnings: allusions to self harm, angst, allusions to depression and disassociation

notes: whats that? did you say “hey G make another cavetown songfic,”? well, if you insist.

taglist: @lokiqueenofasgard, @creator-appreciator

based off of the song Pigeon by cavetown

Circling around the kitchen

Why has nothing changed?

Feed cucumber sandwich to a pigeon

Chipping nail varnish on guitar strings

              Peter didn’t exactly know why he felt like he did. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was feeling-- he didn’t understand why he felt so hollow. He didn’t understand why the metallic silver of his life turned into a matte grey. All Peter really understood was that the empty cavity that was his chest made him uncomfortable. He wandered around the house doing the most mundane tasks in a desperate attempt to fill the cavity in his ribcage that was steadily growing more and more cavernous. Peter eventually found himself sitting silently on his doorstep, watching a flock of birds sitting on a power line. Something startled them, and they all flew off, leaving behind a small, sickly looking bird. That bird sat on the wire completely alone, and Peter felt much sadder than he believed he should. 

 Got a pillow case made out of money

Feelin' pretty fake when I wake up

Tissue paper castle paper caddy

Scaly little friend's got my backup

              It’s no secret that Peter isn’t wealthy; like everything else in his life, his house is totally average. Peter hates that, he hates how painfully average he is even with his mutation. He despises blending into the background. So, Peter steals. He makes himself less ordinary by taking what makes others extraordinary. In the moment, it feels good. He loves the rush he gets from taking, from becoming whatever he steals. Stealing is exhilarating; it gives Peter a better high that drugs ever could, but regret usually follows adrenaline. Nothing that makes Peter “cool” is actually Peter. He feels like a doll with endless accessories but shallow eyes and an empty smile. 

 Didn't give me time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to

So honey, close your eyes and stay like you're supposed to do

Don't you wanna give me time to write another song for you?

              “I’m sorry.” Your voice wasn’t cruel or malicious but it still felt as if with every syllable that left your lips you were stabbing Peter in the chest. Peter couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. His brain couldn’t process your words, instead trying to shut itself off so Peter won’t have to deal with his emotions. Peter never thought that you’d leave. The majority of his friends didn’t either, they believed that the two of you would die at each other’s side. Peter got reckless, though; he thought you’d stay forever no matter what. He stopped trying, he stopped caring, and he didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. You couldn’t take it, so you left. So, there Peter lied, his eyes trained on the ceiling. This isn’t how he wanted to say goodbye-- he doesn’t want to say goodbye. You sigh from across the room, defeated and deflated. Finally, Peter finds his voice.

            “Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me? I love you, let me prove it--” Your head drops and it becomes evident to Peter that you’re holding back tears. 

“That’s the thing, Peter.” You voice is uneven and so utterly heartbreaking that Peter tears up too. “When you tell me you love me, you’re not saying it because you want me to know that you do-- you say it to make me want to stay. The intent is gone and I… I don’t think we can get it back.”

            “What did I do? Please don’t leave me, please, I don’t know what I’ll do without you.” Peter’s emotionless voice was overcome with desperation and sadness and he was practically begging for you to stay. You walked toward him, and for a second he thinks you’ll stay. You gently take his face in your hands, using your thumbs to wipe away his tears. You press a soft, tearful kiss on his lips before resting your forehead against his. 

            “It’s not you, Peter.” You whisper. “It’s never been you.” With that, you pull away from him and walk out the door. Peter could feel the ghostly touch of your hands and the whisper of you lips on his, but Peter was completely alone. 

 Fuzzy feeling and I miss you

Why can nothing stay the same

Fucking stupid head I'm gonna kill you

Melt all your art and drink the paint

              It wasn’t long after you left that the cavernous hole in his chest opened up. Peter didn’t realize how much he needed you-- without you he felt lost and empty, he yearned for your embrace at night when the darkness invaded his brain. Peter hates change, he always has, but this type of change made him want to pull all his hair out and wither away in a corner. Peter hated himself more than anything in the world because he loved you so, so, so much that he couldn’t handle not having you. He’s incomplete without you.

            Peter despised his own brain. He hated how the most vital organ he has was actively trying to destroy him-- he often found himself wishing he could reach into his skull and pull out his traitor brain. He got angry, slamming his fists into his bedroom wall until his knuckles bled, leaving him to collapse onto the floor into a bloody, tearful mess. The silver man wanted to destroy everything he saw and finish with himself.

 I am not a beast, I'm not a monster I don't care what you say You can't have the bad guys without a hero And I'm the only one who's got a cape  

            It became routine for Peter to talk down on himself. He convinced himself that he was evil and that everyone he loved secretly hated him. His eyes played tricks on him, his reflection sneering at him and clawing at his frail body. There was once a time where Peter was a hero-- a voice for the voiceless, a savior for those in need. He didn’t need to fight off the monsters in his head because he was too busy fighting real monsters alongside his friends. He’s not a hero anymore, though, and his friends are gone. He’s alone and the monsters that hid within his mind forced their way out. The thought made Peter cry.

 Didn't give me time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to

So honey, close your eyes and stay like you're supposed to do

Don't know how I'm gonna live without, but I'll stay strong for you

            When you showed up at his door, he thought he was dreaming. He thought he’d gone completely over the edge and that his brain was fried and short circuiting. Then, your teary eyes met his and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms clung to you as if you’d dissolve, and you clutched him like he’d throw you out onto the street. Peter cried harder than he ever had that day-- his entire body vibrating with a rush of emotion that he couldn’t handle.

            “I’m sorry,” your voice is soft and apologetic and tearful and Peter wants nothing more than to kiss the sadness out of you. “I was being petty and stupid and--”

            “No,” Peter cut you off, his hands never leaving your body. “I wasn’t thinking and you were right--” He couldn’t continue, sobs wracking his body as he pulled you close and slammed his lips against yours. The kiss was desperate and needy and passionate, Peter’s hand clutching your shirt. 

            “I missed you so much,” You mumbled against his lips. Peter chuckles softly. 

            “I can imagine.” He kisses you again, his arms wrapping around your waist. You pull away softly.

            “Will you let me stay?” Your voice is wispy and breathless and Peter thinks that’s what angels sound like.

            “Always.”

[ao3feed-cherik]

Beach and Rain

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2FYl0Do

by mooonynight

The heavy rain gray clouds were already taking over the sky, the setting sun almost disappearing into the ocean illuminating the sky and the clouds in different shades of yellow, orange, red and purple.

Words: 1063, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: xmen - Fandom, X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men : First Class Fandom

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Erik Lensherr/Charles Xavier - Character

Relationships: Cherik, Erik Lensherr/Charles Xavier

Additional Tags: no powers au, Established Relationship Erik Lensherr/Charles Xavier, Modern Setting, Fluffy, Honeymoon, Smut, Songfic, Fluff and Smut

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2FYl0Do