Xmen X Reader - Tumblr Posts
Hi, may I request a headcanons of The Brotherhood(Quicksilver, Blob and Toad) whose crush is gn reader? How would they act?
The Brotherhood (X-Men: Evolution) X gender neutral crush
Note(s) : Sorry it took so long, I was struggling to figure out how to write for them (*・～・*) I think I got it right though?
Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver
'Hey! Over here, nooo, not there, silly! Here!'
Oh he's so annoying (affectionate)
Pietro's main goal is to make you think about him wherever you are, that means bugging you constantly.
Assuming you're in the same school, he's constantly switching out your homework with blank pieces of paper, drawing messages in your books, speeding over to poke you in class knowing you can't do anything about it, etc.
It only gets worse if you're an X-Man.
During missions if you're against each other he's constantly going after you, it's gotten him in trouble with Mystique more times than he can count because he refuses to acknowledge the main purpose of the mission, instead, he only wants to annoy you.
Sometimes it's just pushing you over then zooming away, other times he constantly taunts you while running so fast you can't catch him or tell where he's going next, whatever it is, he makes sure it's enough of a bother that you start to get frustrated.
If you're in the brotherhood he can at least get missions done but you know he's bothering you the entire time, you basically end up doing all the work.
Is he flirty? Absolutely.
Expect his arm around your shoulders or waist while he talks on and on so fast you can't even catch what he's saying, but when he does slow down he's all 'You're the only one for me.' 'I love your shirt, is it new?' 'Your eyes are so beautiful, I could stare at them for hours.'
Lance and Todd are throwing up in the background.
Wanda wants to punch her brother into a separate dimension.
Fred's just chilling.
Think of him like Lance with Kitty but more focused on teasing you rather than being completely smitten, don't get him wrong, he loves you and he'd probably even make you a sandwich if you asked, but he'll be an asshole about it.
'Oh, come on, that's so much effort! Can't you just do it yourself?' but before you can answer he zooms off to do what you asked of him. 'here, I guess.' he huffs, a grin on his face as he hands you the item you requested.
Frederick J. Dukes / The Blob
'Do I have to stay with them..?'
Fred is under the assumption that it's impossible for you to like him back after what happened with Jean, of course he was pushy and unfair with her, but she also rejected him and all of the X-Men despise him. So, he doesn't exactly have many options when it comes to friendship, let alone dating, besides the Brotherhood.
Then comes you.
Whether you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, Morlock, perhaps just a fellow mutant, or a human, student at school, he'll truly never believe that he has a chance.
While before he was fairly obsessive and pushy with his crushes, with you he's silent and very awkward, even if you're nice to him he expects backlash if he ever confesses.
If you're a member of the brotherhood his awkwardness is slightly less explainable and far more noticeable, you're his teammate, you spend almost all day together, yet he can hardly look at you and loudly complains when he's paired with you or left alone with you. It probably makes you feel like he hates you.
He's very embarrassed if you confront him about it.
Awkward, he stumbles over his words and is breathing a little heavy as he does so, trying his best to explain that he doesn't hate you, he's just. Well. You see.
It's a similar situation if you attend his school, human or mutant, he's very sweet to you and tends to avoid messing with you. Fred usually quiets down when you get near, almost shutting down in a way. The others tease him for it all the time.
He'll most likely try to avoid you, maybe Lance, Pietro and Todd will push him to interact with you just to 'stop him from bugging them about it', they totally just want to help him out, and it ends with him always running away in embarrassment or assuming, if you're quiet or not that reactive, that you hate him.
If you're paired in a school project, Fred will absolutely just skip school, he doesn't care, he skips class regularly anyway, no Pietro, it's not to avoid you, he's just too cool for class.
If you're an X-Man, it's very different.
Fred is under the assumption you both share a mutual hate for each other, you're enemies after all! The tightness in his chest that he's feeling is totally just violent urges, that's it, that's all, it's not the want to hold your hand, hold you, tell jokes and make you laugh, no, no, that's not it at all!
He tends to target you to try and avoid his feelings quicker, he hates hurting you, but throwing you away from him, physically, makes sure he won't get distracted by you.
Fred ends up crying in his room when he goes home because he's afraid he hurt you.
Heck, even the other members of the brotherhood just want him to get with you already. Lance is especially eager because he won't be the only one being made fun of for dating an X-Man.
Eventually it does spill somehow and I'd imagine he would try to run away from you, maybe you catch up or explain to him later on, whichever one, he'll get very happy when you confirm you share feelings for him. He practically fixates on you so hard that you're the only thing he talks about.
Todd Tolansky / Toad
'Hey, how it's goin', beautiful?'
He proceeds to fall down on his face.
Todd is a bit of a creep, constantly following you around and showing off his nonexistent muscles, telling the most unfunny jokes and pulling pranks on people in an attempt to impress you.
He doesn't smell nice, he's been told this his entire life, that he's slimy, disgusting, every insulting name under the sun. As such, he decides to at least try and take a shower more often for you, to make you less likely to avoid him, of course!
Todd has a big grin on his face every time he talks to you, bouncing off his feet like he's just won the lottery. He's also very, very flirty, just not that good at flirting.
His pick up lines are very 'the immediate Google search results for pick up lines.' type of cheesy, very stereotypical and eye rolling.
If you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, human, mutant, etc, it doesn't matter much to him, he treats you the exact same. The only real difference is how much time he spends around you.
In the brotherhood he does try to avoid flirting in front of the guys to avoid embarrassment or teasing, but surprisingly he does ask for a lot of advice regularly. It usually never goes well, Lance and Pietro tend to just give very wrong or confusing tips and Fred doesn't really have any to give in the first place.
If you're an X-Man he tries to impress you by fighting your teammates, usually he loses, but sometimes he does win! He'll pose and ask if he's just the coolest guy or what. Todd doesn't like fighting you but he will, because unfortunately Mystique is absolutely terrifying and he doesn't want to face her wrath.
In school he likes to ask for your help, constantly bugging you about how he just desperately needs your assistance to study for this test coming up, which to be fair he does. But, if you agree to help him, he doesn't actually try. He just flirts with you the entire time.
His crush is obvious, incredibly so, even the most clueless of individuals would know he loves you because he says it directly every single day. He doesn't exactly need to 'confess' per say, all you really need to do is accept his flirting or flirt back, maybe ask him out yourself.
AAAA YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!! :3333 could I maybe request CG Storm and CG Rogue? Maybe them and a little reader who’s a bit on the fussy/ tantrum-y side?
Thank you!!!!! ^^ (u probably know who this is but I’m too scared to come off anon 😭)
X-MEN '97 - Little reader who's fussy and tends to have tantrums
SFW INTERACTION ONLY!! AGE REGRESSION IS NOT A KINK!!
Note(s): HEHHE I KNOW!! It's alright tbh I'm terrified of coming off anon too (´-﹏-`；)
Powered through writing this because you're cool as hell and I like you! 💪 I don't and didn't really have the most idk 'attentive' family, so I'm not the best judge on how to take care of kids or people in a kids mindset, I may be a little bad at writing for caregivers and age regression in general because of this.
ANNA MARIE DARKHÖLME / ROGUE
'Hey, hey now sugah, let's calm down, you don't want to go in time out and I don't want to send ya. Explain to me why you don't like the food, I'm perfectly alright gettin' you somethin' different, there ain't no need to get upset.'
Anna can sometimes tell when you're about to have a tantrum or become more fussy than usual, even if you tend to take a while to throw a full fit, she'll watch you carefully and try to prevent one from fully forming. Gently kissing you on the forehead and brushing back your hair, asking what's wrong with a worried look on her face.
The moment you start yelling, kicking, or even crying, maybe after ignoring her question, she finds it hard not to just fold and give you what you want, after all, you're just so cute. However, her sense of responsibility and care for you overwhelms her need to coddle you.
Anna will say your name firmly, getting you to pay attention to her, and only her. She'll get a tissue for you and wipe your tears away, and ask firmly what you're sad or angry about and if you could possibly explain it to her.
If you can't verbally, for whatever reason, she'll give you the opportunity to write it on paper or she'll play a guessing game with you, the guessing game is only for when you're extremely upset and need cheering up though.
If you explain, in whatever format you need to, that you're upset because of an issue that's causing you distress, maybe food triggered sensory issues, someone was mean to you, etc, then she'll let you off the hook because you clearly didn't mean to cause any harm and you were just acting out.
Rogue will give you a bit of a talking to, telling you that crying and throwing things makes it difficult to help, but that's about it. Given it's not your fault she isn't actually too mad, she just wants you to understand that she won't know how to help if you're kicking and screaming.
If, however, your outburst was because of a silly reason, say you don't like the colour crayons and you throw them at her, she won't be as quick to accept it and move on.
She's still very sympathetic and won't ever raise her voice at you, even when you've done something especially terrible for no apparent reason.
Anna is very lenient and her 'punishments' usually just include a minute or so sitting in the corner, maybe withholding drawing from you for the day, but she always makes sure to explain in detail why you're being punished and it's usually only a last resort.
Rogue is very sweet even when she's being stern, her eyes can't help but go soft and her tone slips from that firm scolding one she uses when you're being bad, to a sweet almost coo-like baby voice.
Afterwards she comforts you like there's no tomorrow, telling you that she didn't want to hurt your feelings by taking away something or sending you to the corner, but you just need to learn some manners and how to handle yourself.
If you're fussy in terms of only liking clothes of a certain colour, food cut or made in a certain way, or things being done in a particular order, she absolutely doesn't mind doing these things for you! When it comes to cooking Rogue tends to ask for Gambit's help, she's not the worst cook in the world, but she can't do it like Remy can.
When it comes to removing parts of food, maybe you like to remove the crusts of bread and have them separate or not at all, she'll happily cut them off for you and maybe even eat the crusts while talking to you.
Sometimes she matches clothes with you! After all, 'If you like these clothes, they must be the best ones they got!' She says with a grin.
ORORO MUNROE / STORM
'My child, it's important to remember your manners when speaking to those around you. I am not angry, but you must tell me what is wrong if I am to correct my mistake or you are able to grow.'
The moment she notices you starting to throw a tantrum, which is fairly fast even if your signs are just a deep frown, asking you if everythings alright and most of the time avoiding any tantrums before they begin.
However, sometimes you refuse to tell her what's wrong, perhaps you go straight to throwing toys or food, pouting, yelling, in replying she will simply hold a gentle hand on your shoulder and kindly repeat her question on what the matter is. Her tone is gentle and her face is one of genuine concern.
Like Rogue, if you're in distress because of something that's not your fault, or maybe you're just overwhelmed, she will never hold it against you at all. If you're comfortable with it and it's something you need to calm down, Storm will pick you up and give you a tight hug, if not, she's alright with just holding a hand on your shoulder, or even removing her hand and only speaking to you.
Ororo will get on one knee, bending down to speak to you in a hushed whisper, she'll tell you that it's all okay, that she'll help you and make it better, give you different food, turn off the lights, whatever you need, she can give it to you.
However, if you're just being fussy to perhaps get a reaction out of her, she'll raise her brow in an almost amused action, as if she finds your attempts to be aggravating as cute as a cat nibbling on its owner's hand. If you're throwing a fit just to throw one, she will definitely tell you sternly that you cannot do such things, at least not in her care.
I don't think that Storm is the type to use the corner or naughty step as a punishment, after all, she has her own fear of tight, dark places, you may fear loneliness, or abandonment, she does not wish her own troubles onto a mind like yours.
Instead, she talks to you, more importantly, she'll help you figure out what you did wrong, how to improve next time, and reflect on her own actions to see if the trouble was caused by a mistake on her part. It won't be an in depth conversation, she tends to use stuffed animals as an aid to show you an outsiders perspective.
If you're struggling with saying your words out loud, never fear, she has tons of paper and crayons, or pencils, pen, markers, etc if that's what you prefer, just for you! She keeps them in her room for whenever you regress and want to keep near her when doing so.
Ororo will advise you to draw your feelings, maybe even write a letter if that's more what you're comfortable with. She doesn't mind bad spelling or handwriting, she's quite good at deciphering even the most atrociously unintelligible handwriting.
At most, and only if you've been really bad, she'll lead you to your room, or hers, just to make sure you don't get embarrassed and act out further. Storm will tell you what you did wrong as firmly as she can so that you'll understand. It's only a light scolding though, she never ever raises her voice when you're around unless you need or want her to.
If she ever does raise her voice and it startles or frightens you, she will apologise, regardless of if you've done something wrong or not. It's never her intention to harm you, you've entrusted her to care for you and she will do anything in her power to achieve that goal.
If your fussiness is about certain clothes, textures, toys, etc, she absolutely doesn't mind exclusively getting you certain clothes or toys, and she won't be angry at all if you throw a tantrum over texture or taste, because she's fully aware it can be distressing to have an unfavourable texture of clothing of food.
Ororo will always ask questions about something before she gets it for you, after a while she knows pretty much all of your likes and dislikes.
She's a great cook and can switch the taste or texture in something with just a flick of her wrist, something she doesn't mind doing, especially if the food she's already making is something that causes a lot of stress.
Masterlist
Click here for my Marvel Masterlist.
Click here for my Star Wars Masterlist.
Click here for my The Last of Us Masterlist.
Click here for my The Walking Dead Masterlist.
Click here for my Harry Potter Masterlist.
Click here for my Doctor Who Masterlist.
Click here for my 9-1-1 Masterlist.
Click here for my 9-1-1 Lone Star Masterlist.
Click here for my Narcos Masterlist.
Click here for my House Masterlist.
Click here for my Criminal Minds Masterlist.
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Click here for my Lucifer Masterlist.
Click here for my Gilmore Girls Masterlist.
Click here for my Merlin Masterlist.
Click here for my Febuwhump Masterlist.
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Click here to see Who I Write For.
Tag List!!!
A few people messaged me asking if I had a taglist and honestly I hadn't even thought about it but if you'd like to be added I made this google form, it's super quick and easy all you have to do is check the person/people you'd like to be tagged in! It just makes it easier for me to keep track!
CLICK here to add yourself
Click here for my masterlist!
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Who Do I Write For?
Reuploaded with new fandoms and characters!
Click here for my masterlist.
The only prompt list I have right now is my Taylor Swift one (Click here to see what songs are free!) so if you a certain character and song gives you inspo for them just send me a message!
If you have any of your own ideas message me too and I'll see what I can come up with! If there's a fandom you like on here but not the character just ask about them and I'll see if I'm up for trying a new person!
You can use the link in my bio to add yourself to the tag list!🤎
Marvel -
- Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker
- Tom Holland's Peter Parker
- Tony Stark
- Bucky Barnes
- Winter Soldier
- Loki
- Clint Barton
- Kate Bishop
- Yelena Belova
- Natasha Romanoff
- Steven Grant
- Marc Spector
- Jake Lockley
- Matt Murdock
- Frank Castle
- Jessica Jones
- Eddie Brock
- Logan Howlett (Wolverine)
- Charles Xavier
- Erik Lehnsherr
- Peter Maximoff
Star Wars -
- Obi-Wan Kenobi
- Anakin Skywalker
- Commander Cody
- Captain Rex
- Darth Vader
- Hunter
- Wrecker
- Crosshair
- Tech
- Echo
- Cassian Andor
- Han Solo
- Luke Skywalker
- Leia Organa
- Din Djarin
- Cobb Vanth
- Poe Dameron
The Last of Us -
- Joel Miller
- Ellie Williams
Doctor Who -
- 9th Doctor
- 10th Doctor
- 11th Doctor
- Rose Tyler
- Clara Oswald
9-1-1 -
- Evan 'Buck' Buckley
- Eddie Diaz
- Owen Strand
Narcos -
- Javier Peña
The Walking Dead -
- Daryl Dixon
- Negan
- Rick Grimes
Harry Potter -
- James Potter
- Sirius Black
- Remus Lupin
- Harry Potter
- Fred Weasley
- Draco Malfoy
- Newt Scamander
Criminal Minds -
- Spencer Reid
- Aaron Hotchner
- Luke Alvez
- Derek Morgan
- Emily Prentiss
House -
- Gregory House
- James Wilson
- Robert Chase
Miscellaneous Characters -
- Merlin
- Arthur Pendragon
(Probably forgetting some people, so don't be afraid to ask for other characters!)
Folklore Masterlist
the 1 -
cardigan -
the last great american dynasty -
exile -
my tears ricochet - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader
mirrorball -
seven -
august -
this is me trying -
illict affairs -
invisible string -
mad woman -
epiphany -
betty -
peace -
hoax -
the lakes -
Taylor Swift Masterlist
Click Here for my Debut Masterlist
Click Here for my Fearless Masterlist
Click Here for my Speak Now Masterlist
Click Here for my Red Masterlist
Click Here for my 1989 Masterlist
Click Here for my Reputation Masterlist
Click Here for my Lover Masterlist
Click Here for my Folklore Masterlist
Click Here for my Evermore Masterlist
Click Here for my Midnights Masterlist
Wanna Bet?
Pairing: Peter x M!Reader
Summary: You and Peter both are relaxing on their day off. An idea comes into Peter’s mind for a bet and it’s that him and you both have a running contest to see who’s the fastest out of the two with the school watching them
A/N: you have the same power as Peter
A flash of blue comes in and out of the shared room Peter shares with you. He calls out your name. You stop next to the bed. “What?” You adjust your jacket.
The two of you pretty much wear the same things but different colours as yours is blue and black, along with sharing the same interests. “I know this is everyone’s day off, but I’m thinking that you and I could have a bet.”
“Depends on what the bet is and what the winner gets from the loser.” You cross your arms over your chest. “The bet is to see who’s the fastest out of the both of us. And we can think about what the winner wants after.” Peter smiles at you, which you returns.
“Deal.” You extend your hand out to seal the deal, which he refuses. You tilts your head questioningly. He grabs your hand to pull you in. You get seated in his lap before he places my lips on yours.
Standing back up, a blue flash exits out of the room.
Peter runs out as well to tell everyone at the mansion about the bet. He stands next to you as everyone walks out the front of the school. “Who’s gonna keep track?” you question.
“I will.” You two turn to see the Professor roll in behind you “Get ready.” You and Peter both turn back around and placing your goggles over your eyes. “Set.”
“I hope you like the taste of losing.” A grin appears on his face. “I think it’s the other way around.” you retort back. “Go!” Both zooming off, you go around the city and country with everything slowing down, each of your hair flying behind you.
Appearing back in front of everyone in less of the time we left, you ask, “So? Who won?” Yours and Peter’s goggles are placed back on your heads. “Peter. By 2 milliseconds.” The Professor nods towards your boyfriend. “Ha, ha. Suck it!” He turns to see you holding a cream-pie in your hand and it smashing against his face. “Eat this.”
Everyone holds in a laugh. He wipes the whip cream from my eyes. “I thought the winner got to pick of what the loser gets to do for their punishment. And clearly, I’m the winner.” Laughs erupt from everyone from keeping it in.
“I was dared to from some of the others. And I never back down from a dare. Anyway, what would Quicksilver want for his prize?”
“Kisses, cuddles and Twinkies. Plus me beating your ass on video games.”
Easing
a/n just a little logan idea i had while thinking of ways to work on my characterization of him :)
Summary: A contemplation of mortality. Or, alternatively, reader sustains a minor injury while on a mission and Logan sees the end of the world.
Warnings: age gap (where everyone is of legal, consenting age), slight descriptions of injury, unnoticed pining
----
The dimness of the room adds an edge to your haziness, blurring the furniture in a way that dampens your mood.
You've been curious about Logan's room longer than you'd ever admit, and now that he's pulled you into it to not-so-discreetly scold you when all you want to do is go to bed, you can't even enjoy the benefit of taking in your surroundings.
You take advantage of the fact that your back is to him, eyes falling shut as you focus on ignoring the buzz of the electricity powering his bedside lamp. The plights of being an exhausted technopath.
There's a severity to his presence, a sharpness in the way he lingers behind you. It'd be all too easy to leave him to his brooding, to halfheartedly accept any verbal lashings he feels like giving you and be done with it. But Logan knows you, knows how you work well enough to find a way to interpret your lack of commentary into something it's not, a sign that something is wrong with you beyond a scrape against your temple and a drowsiness you're not used to.
"So," the word feels flat, almost distorted, "This is your room."
He exhales, a puff of air that tells you he's in no mood for anything lighthearted. "What were you thinking?"
Logan had asked the same question of everyone else involved. "That I was helping people."
There was nothing dramatic or life threatening about the scratches against the side of your face. You were thrown to the ground and the gravel cut against your cheek and the side of your forehead. You were quick to get up and put the person that attacked you in their place.
He walks forward, turning to face you. His attention remains fixed on some point that seems to exist right past your shoulder. "If it helps, I broke the other guy's nose right after."
Logan doesn't exactly ease, but you don't miss the way the corner of his mouth attempts to tug itself upwards. "Yeah?" The word's more amused than he wants it to be.
"Mhm," you hum cheerily, recalling the sting of your knuckles and the sound of bone cracking. That had been the part of the mission you wanted to tell him about. "Punched him just like you showed me."
His eyes briefly meet yours before falling towards the floor. "Deserved more than a punch."
You sigh. "Come on." When he doesn't react, you take a cautious step forward. Logan still doesn't look at you. "It's not that bad."
"You're bleeding."
Any blood staining your skin is old and dry. If Logan hadn't found you so quickly you would have cleaned it yourself in the bathroom. You barely had time to finish changing into your pajamas before Logan knocked on your door. "It's old." Your assurance doesn't ease him. You take another step in his direction. "Logan."
He lets out a breath, the sound pointed. "You didn't let anyone clean it?"
The question is the closest he's come to your usual dynamic. There's nothing passive aggressive about it, and yet it manages to dig at you a little more than anything else that's been said.
Logan's older than you. It's no secret and rarely a source of concern, the two of you comfortable enough with the age gap in your sort-of-friendship for you to occasionally joke about him being an old man. But when things like this come up, and he worries a little too much, a part of you starts to wonder if he only tolerates you because he sees you like a little kid.
You lift your chin slightly, doing your best to seem a little more stable. "I'm not one of the kids, I can clean my own cuts."
His eyes meet yours, the look warning you against leaning into anything overly confident. You resist the urge to smile. "Aren't you all grown up, bub?"
Your lips part, but you're too distracted by the uneasy warmth settling in your chest to think of a response. The corner of his mouth bends into what feels like a partial smile. The look vanishes before you can be sure.
He turns with no warning, walking towards an unfamiliar door. You watch him for a long moment before following.
Logan opens the door, turning his head slightly to make sure you're behind him. He turns on the light before fully stepping into the room. You inhale sharply in an attempt to dismiss the burning pressure of the influx of electricity.
His bathroom is tidy, with only a toothbrush and a soap dispenser taking up the counter space next to his sink; a navy blue bath mat in front of the shower; and neatly hung towels. Something about seeing this feels oddly personal, and you're not sure why. It's only a bathroom, and it's only Logan.
He halfheartedly taps his fingers against the counter once. "Sit," said in a tone that is only ever used when he's not in the mood to be contradicted, even if you only mean to do so adorably.
The warmth returns with a vengeance, but you obey anyway. As long as he's preoccupied with you, he's not lashing out at anyone that might have seen what happened to you and not attempting to kill Scott for thinking to ask you to go on the mission.
You pull yourself onto the counter, placing your hands on your lap to limit the space you're taking up. Logan twists the faucet before reaching for a wash cloth. He dampens the cloth before bringing it to your cheek. He dabs at the scraped skin with a carefulness that twists your stomach.
"You need to take better care of that face." It's meant to be another way of scolding you, but the words lack any bite.
If you were less aware of your breathing, you'd roll your eyes. "It'll heal."
Logan sighs, moving the cloth up your temple. He finds a particularly ginger spot beneath your eyebrow, you press your lips together to keep from reacting. He pulls the wash cloth away, giving you a look that makes you feel terribly transparent. "You're hurt."
"I--" You cut yourself off. There's little point in attempting to lie to him, especially when he's looking at you like that. "I'm a little sensitive, but that's normal. You're just not used to it because you heal too fast."
"Too fast?"
You nod, glad for the excuse to turn this onto him. "If you healed at the same rate as most of the population, you'd look at it like a paper cut."
He throws you a look that's entirely unconvinced as he sets down the wash cloth. "I'm sure."
Logan picks up the Neosporin he set aside earlier, applying some of the ointment to his fingers. He hesitates before dabbing the product against your skin. His other hand finds the other side of your face, thumb pressing into your chin to turn your head to better assess his work.
His eyebrows pull together as he searches your features for something you don't understand. You're not convinced he's found it, but he does eventually let you go.
Instead of moving away from the counter, Logan holds his hands out in front of you. It takes you a moment to understand what he's asking, but once you catch on you offer him your own hands, letting him study your knuckles.
The skin is a little irritated, but far from as agitated as the scrapes against the side of your face. "At least you got some good hits in."
The validation comforts you more than it should. You're glad he's too focused on your hands to see your smile. "I'm tougher than I look."
He lifts his head slightly, eyes finding yours in a way that feels a little softer than before. "I don't doubt that, kid."
Logan releases you carefully, setting your hands back onto your lap. He keeps himself there for a moment, fingers resting against the back of your palm. When he does move away, he does so to reach for the Neosporin.
You roll your eyes as he applies the product to your knuckles. "You're very dramatic tonight."
He glares in a way that tells you you're in no position to comment on his level of concern. Usually, you'd push, but he's probably been through enough tonight. And maybe--only maybe--a part of you is enjoying his version of coddling.
Logan picks up the wash cloth again, wiping the excess product onto the fabric before taking a partial step back. "You're clean."
He's still in front of you, too close to let you push yourself off of the counter. "Thanks." Your fingers tap against your knee. "Anything you want to yell at me or was that a Scott only thing?"
He scoffs. "I told him if you came ba--"
"I'm fine." His irritation at the correction is enough to silence him. "And it wasn't his fault." A completely true statement, considering Scott was nowhere near you when it happened.
Logan places one hand on the counter, the side of his thumb nearly touching your thigh. "It was his idea for you to be there." Another fact, though one that's completely disregarding the complexities of the situation. A single touch from you completely fried the security system being used to hold other mutants hostage. "He was outside of your room while you were changing..."
What? You blink, so surprised in the change of topic you don't even know where to start. "Uh--" In all honesty, you had thought Scott was kidding about staying near you until the situation was diffused. You also thought it was ridiculous to assume Logan would see you before morning. "He said proximity to me would make it less likely for you to kill him."
His eyebrows draw together, his expression morphing into something you can't quite interpret. "Not his best theory."
Now it's your turn to glare. While you're not particularly fond or un-fond of Scott, he doesn't deserve the blame for this. "Not his fault, either."
He frowns in a way that's meant to let you know that you'll have to agree to disagree. Logan watches you for another moment before taking a step back. You use the space to push yourself off the counter. He--he's closer than you thought he'd be.
"I uh--" You let out a breath, focusing on the drowsiness that had been bothering you the entire way back from the mission. This isn't the longest you've ever gone without sleep, but the mission had drained you. There had been a lot of complicated technology in the facility that you had to concentrate on mentally hacking. "I think I'm gonna go to bed."
Logan presses his lips together before letting his gaze fall to the ground. "You can--" The words are mumbled, hesitant. "You can stay in here tonight, if you want."
You blink. He um--You guys have spent a fair amount of time together, more so than usual recently, but he's never implied anything like this. The only thing more startling than the offer is the fact that it isn't...unappealing.
You like being around Logan more than you'd ever admit. You're always looking for excuses to be around him more, and now he's giving you a reason to stay.
"Yeah," the response feels too uncertain, too surprised. "If it'll help your old man heart to see that I'm perfectly fine."
He angles his head to the side, the corner of his mouth pulling itself upwards. "As long as you're doing me a favor."
"I know," you say, glad for the excuse to return to a more familiar dynamic, "I'm so kind."
Logan turns around with a slight sigh, "Mhm."
It's easy to follow him out of the bathroom. "That felt sarcastic."
"No," he lies, pulling back his sheets before sitting on the left side of his bed, "You're a saint."
You hesitate, standing halfway between the bathroom door and the bed. It's just Logan--who sits with you to watch movies he couldn't care less about, who actually listens to you, who sits you down on his bathroom counter and applies antibiotics to split skin.
You walk towards the other side of his bed. Logan pulls back the sheets on the other side of the bed before you sit. Now that you're actually resting beneath comfortable bedding, the exhaustion that you've been ignoring all night spreads over your limbs.
He reaches for his bedside lamp but doesn't turn off the light. "Comfortable?"
You mumble your confirmation before the room's soft light vanishes with a soft 'click'. It hits you, then, that you still haven't been able to take in his room the way you would've liked to. Maybe in the morning.
You lay down, pulling the comforter up to your neck. There's something distinctly relieving about the end of the day, when all forms of electricity are turned off and the buzzing beneath your skin is finally given a way out. You've gotten better at controlling it, at ignoring it until it's little more than background noise, but when you over use your abilities, the mental shield that divides you and the feeling begins to slip.
You're somewhere between asleep and awake when some instinct convinces you to squint your eyes open. A final look at Logan, and that'll be enough. It's too dark for you to make out much more than a vague silhouette, but something about his rigidness tells you he's far from asleep.
"Logan?"
He's silent for so long you begin to wonder if he's going to pretend to be asleep. "You okay?"
"Yeah," you say, and for a moment you're almost taken back by how much you mean it. "I was just..." There's no real end to your sentence. You don't know why you couldn't let yourself fall asleep. Maybe it had been the way he looked at you, concern too genuine over something so small. "Are you okay?"
You hear him let out a breath. "Anything could have happened."
There's a heaviness to his voice that immediately presses itself against your chest. Did this--did it really scare him that bad? You know he's used to the rapid rate at which his body repairs itself, but that doesn't mean that anyone that recovers at a regular rate is on death's doorstep over something so small.
"But it didn't." He scoffs, the sound dismissive. You move onto your side. "It didn't." When he doesn't react, you reach for him. He doesn't move away when you bend your fingers around his forearm. "And what didn't happen doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here."
You pause, dragging your thumb against his skin. Logan lets out another breath, the sound something that lacks acceptance. He moves his arm away, but before you can read too much into the movement, his fingers are bending around your own.
Known
A/n i see this as taking place a little after this , but they're both separate drabbles that can be read on their own :)
Summary: Late night drinking turns into reminiscing between friends. Or, in which you realize that you've always felt safe around Logan.
Warnings/info: age-gap (both characters are of consenting age!!), casual drinking, unnoticed pining, technopath!reader
----
The colors and voices radiating from the TV screen are easier to feel than experience, the electric current buzzing against your skin.
You move to sit up a little straighter, hands pressing into plush cushioning as you adjust. There's a distance to the way you're feeling, as if some odd lightness has managed to wedge itself between you and the world around you.
You lean forward, reaching for the bottle abandoned on the coffee table in front of you. Your fingers press into the glass as you move back into place, the side of your thumb tapping against the neck of the second beer you've finished tonight. A third might be nice, but the darkness around you makes the door feel too far to even think about getting to the kitchen.
There is a bottle of whisky only an arm's length away...it'd be easy to--
"No." The word is flat in its finality.
A soft laugh gives you away immediately. You press a palm against your lips as if that'll take the sound back. Sometimes Logan reads you so well you have to wonder if he has secret psychic abilities he hasn't told anyone about. "I didn't say anything."
He turns his head, lips pressing together in what feels like an attempt to dismiss the amusement behind his eyes. "Didn't have to." Logan's attention shifts back to the glass in his hand. "You're not drinking it."
You shift, turning to better analyze him. There's a stiffness to him that doesn't suit the amount of alcohol in his system. Maybe he's overcompensating for something, like his level of commitment to the stance he's taking. "Okay," the response is warm, cheery.
Logan lets out a breath as he leans forward, angling himself so close his forehead nearly touches yours. He watches you with an openness that's more dizzying than the alcohol in your system. "I mean it."
His proximity is so disorientating you nearly forget that you're meant to respond and not just stare at him.
"Fine," a genuine concession. Nothing else comes to mind, and you can't bring yourself to look away from him. The overwhelming desire to look at him is far from rare, but you're usually better at suppressing it.
You set one of your hands against the space between the two of you. "I'm gonna go get another beer."
He sighs, as if something about the statement has deeply drained him. "You're not."
Your lips part in a mock gasp. "Are you cutting me off?"
The joke seems to ease him, the corner of his mouth pulling itself upwards. "You're drunk."
Please--who gets drunk off of two beers? You narrow your eyes, not sure if you're more offended by the assumption or his hypocrisy. "Am not."
He has the audacity to smile fully. "Then let's keep it that way." The side of his hand moves to rest against the back of your palm. He's--Logan's always so warm. "Don't need to make putting you to bed any harder, princess."
An uneasy warmth begins to crawl its way up your neck. "Y'know you've had twice as much to drink as me, and you're still going."
You press your lips together in an attempt to hide the fact that you're arguing for the sake of it more than out of a desire for more alcohol.
There's a beat of silence as Logan tilts his chin downwards, making the distance between the two of you feel even smaller than it really is. "And when you're my age, you'll get a third beer."
You let yourself openly frown. "You're no fun."
He sighs, attention shifting back to his glass. "Don't pout."
"I'm not," it's a little more directly dishonest than you'd usually be, but the mood seems easy enough for you to get away with it. "I'm just...talking."
Logan watches you for a moment, doubt etched into his expression. "Sure, kid."
You roll your eyes as you shift away, arm stretching forward to place the bottle back on the coffee table. When you lean back, body pressing into the couch, a strangely poignant wave of drowsiness hits you.
The show you had been forcing Logan to watch has been replaced by something bright and loud. The sitcom had been familiar in that slightly off way, the theme song and characters like something out of a recurring childhood dream.
Before your thoughts can snag on the blurriness of your past, you lift a hand. You let your mind give into the draw of the electric current, the two melding until all you have to do to change the channel is flick your wrist. You flick through a few of them before settling on a show you're much more familiar with.
"You're a regular universal remote."
Despite yourself, you smile. The more you've worked on using your powers, the better you've gotten at motor control. Before, sometimes so much as touching something plugged into the wall was enough to make you lose control. "Much cooler than being the person that blew up the toaster."
He laughs once at the memory, the sound low but warm. "Or electrocuting me."
You glare. "I never electrocuted you." It's the truth. Your first few days here had been hectic, the stability you were being offered seemed too good to be true; every instinct in your body begged you to get out before it was too late. But you hadn't hurt anyone.
"But you thought about it." You don't have decent response. When you met Logan, you were running on nothing but adrenaline. "It's okay, I didn't make the best impression."
When the two of you first met, Logan had been...gruff, and maybe defensive in a warranted way, but you can't remember ever not liking him. Maybe that's why you felt more comfortable around him than anyone else, Logan never spoke to you in a way that felt like a facade.
But he doesn't need to know that, so you just shrug. "We're good now, though."
The show cuts to commercial break, an ad for detergent filling the screen. You let yourself relax further into the couch, your head moving to rest against Logan's arm.
"Yeah," he mumbles, "We're good."
You're aware of your blinking, of the weight of your eyelids and the focus needed to pull them back into place. Logan's presence makes it easier to accept the sluggishness and the vulnerability that comes with it. This isn't the first time he's made you feel okay about something like this.
"Logan?" He hums once in acknowledgement. You let out a quiet breath, the words briefly tangling in the back of your throat. "I'm glad you were the one that found me when I was like that."
He's quiet for a moment, and then his hand squeezes yours. "Me, too."
His voice is so quiet it almost feels like an extension of the electricity floating through the air, another thing that's easier to feel than to know. Your eyes fall shut, and you're comfortable enough to let them stay that way.
----
Taglist: @whyausername99
False Prophets
A/n was looking through my drafts and decided to let this logan fic leave the vault also fun fact the title is inspired by a line in a gracie abrams song
Summary: After the laboratory that's served as the only home you've ever known is ambushed by those that don't believe in the mission you've dedicated your life to, you're left with no other option but to trust the stranger that helped do so.
Warnings/info: slight allusions to manipulative use of an unspecified religion, reader has a touch of stockholm syndrome bc she was raised by a cult that experiments on mutants, brief mentions/implications of being medically abused by a caretaker, age gap (reader is in their early 20's)
----
The knife is as intangible as everything else. You squeeze the blade's handle regardless, knuckles straining against your skin as you try to force the metal's weight to mean something to you.
How did--how did things turn so quickly? Father Daniel grabbed you by the arm, he dragged you up the stairs and into the above ground. He gave you little instruction and even less explanation.
Protect the cause. That was all he could say before the defiers found you. Things had moved so quickly, your instincts allowing you to neutralize an assailant before--before the world became little more than a nauseating haze.
The pulsing ache behind your skull, the weight of your limbs, the resistance of your lungs, the dark spots clouding your vision. You set a palm against the floor, the coolness of the tile doing little to ground you. It's not unusual for you to feel unwell after over exerting your abilities, but this has been something else.
You need to--to evaluate, to begin the contingency process. Who knows how much time you've lost?
You bend your legs, hand pressing against the ground as you try to stand. A sharp pain immediately latches onto every tendon in your body. You screw your eyes shut. Breathe. Breathe.
A soft creak brings you back to where you are. The handle in front of you begins to twist. The door's pushed open, revealing a man who occupies too much of the doorway for you to consider bolting.
His attention shifts around the small space before settling on you. Everything about the stranger is harsh--his stance, his expression, the blood staining his clothing and skin.
The man takes a step forward. You flinch, head hitting the closet's back wall. He presses his lips together before exhaling. He holds his hands out in front of him as he steps back to where he was before, behind the doorway's threshold. "I'm not going to hurt you."
One of the many lies Father Daniel had warned you about. When you don't respond, the man sighs again. "So drop the knife. You look more likely to hurt yourself with it than me."
The perceived weakness only adds to your mounting unease. You scoff. He may have the physical advantage, but you have something he doesn't. You tilt your head, ignoring the pounding of your skull as you focus on mentally reaching for him. He's easy enough to latch onto, but actually doing anything takes more from you than you'd ever admit.
You take a deep breath, letting your energy build before pushing it onto him. It takes longer than it should, but eventually, your mind finds the strength to obey you. Just as the man's starting to bend to your will, his feet beginning to drag against the floor, your hold on him lapses.
Great--you've revealed your only real advantage and for what. You try to stand a little straighter, eyes landing on the stranger. You stare at him with wide eyes, fear making it difficult to breathe right. Father Daniel has always warned you about what happens to your kind in the real world.
You don't know what you expect from him--anger, horror, something else equally brutal. Instead of displaying any of that, the corner of his mouth briefly pulls itself upwards. "Got it out of your system, kid?"
"I'm not a kid." The raspiness of your own voice surprises you. "Where is he?"
He seems to know what you mean immediately. "The man that held you hostage and experimented on you for what--twenty years?"
Of course that's what he'd believe. "Father Daniel is a visionary with a divine calling, who is doing what he needs to do to pioneer a better future for mutants and humans alike."
"Yeah? Is that why he hasn't let you go outside in two decades?"
You scoff. It's not--the situation isn't like that, and to pretend that things are that black and white is ridiculous. You've been outside. Family outings to the movies after particularly strenuous medical trials, birthdays, and sometimes Christmas. Sure, you're not worldly, but that's the cost your family pays for safety. Until society is no longer cruel to your kind, you're safer in the lab.
If you were feeling a little more like yourself, you'd tell him all of this. But all you can manage is a defensive, "I've been outside."
His eyebrows draw together, something in the look coming terribly close to un-harsh. He doesn't believe you. Whatever. This man's opinions mean nothing to you. The only thing you know about him is that he's one of the ones that decided to invade your home in order to target you and Father Daniel's work.
His eyes drift downwards, landing on the band-aids stuck to your forearms. Some urging part of you wants to explain that things aren't always like this. That your labs and medical trials only make a fraction of your life, that these last few weeks have only been extra uncomfortable because Father Daniel has been getting closer. But the words needed to explain this to a stranger feel so far, and you doubt he'd be able to understand, regardless, so you settle for turning your forearms away from him.
"Congratulations," he mumbles dismissively, attention shifting away from your arms, "You're going again."
"What?" He sighs, as if there's something deeply irritating about the question. He can't--he can't possibly mean to take you from here. You squeeze the knife's handle. "No. I'm not--" Your protests don't impact him in the slightest. "No."
"I know it doesn't seem like it," there's something measured about his gruff assurance, "But you'll be okay if you come with me. I'm taking you to people that want to help you."
You press your a hand against the wall, as if the plaster will offer you a means of escape. "No one like you wants to help someone like me."
He watches you for a moment, something behind his expression becoming a little less fragile. "Someone like me?"
The man takes a measured step forward, crossing the door's threshold. Dread digs into you as your mind tries to reach for him. You've barely touched his energy before a piercing ache in your skull forces the connection to snap. If the stranger noticed your attempt at self defense, he gives no indication of it, taking another step in your direction.
He continues forward, his movements slow and definitive until he's so close you have to tilt your chin upwards to look him in the eye. Like this, his anger feels less...prominent.
After a moment, his eyebrows draw together slightly. If you didn't know any better, you might have mistaken the look for a barely there grimace. The man drops his gaze downwards, and you follow his line of sight.
His hand, the back of his palm--he had been weaponless before. And now, sharp, metal blades have split his skin from the inside out. You lift your chin to meet his gaze. He's not exactly smiling, but there's something gentle about the set of his mouth.
You angle your head downwards again, carefully pulling your free hand away from the wall. You move slowly, holding your arm out between the two of you for a moment before letting your pointer finger touch the edge of one of the blades. In another life, you might've been willing to tell him how cool you find his mutation.
He pulls back immediately, his hand moving away from you as his claws retract back into his skin. "You get it now?"
You press your lips together. Just because he's a mutant doesn't mean he's like you. Very few people understand your family's mission, and he isn't one of them. The fact that he broke in here is proof of that. But the ache in your skull is too disorientating for you to be efficiently hostile, and maybe there's a small chance that the fact he wanted to ease you when he could have easily just attacked you is throwing you slightly.
There is no good answer, so instead, you offer another question, "Where is he?"
"He left." The response is flat. "Ran downstairs and then disappeared."
What? Father Daniel--he left. That's not...that's not part of the contingency plan.
Okay--you let out a breath in an attempt to neutralize your expression. If Father Daniel left, he must have had a reason. There are other things that needed protecting. He'll come back.
You must look as thrown as you feel, because the man sighs. "Do you understand now?" When you don't react, he pauses. "You can stay here--in an abandoned warehouse, or you can come with and--and get some help."
Help. The word digs at you. You're not--not some kind of victim. You were chosen for a higher purpose, your mutation was given to you so that you could help others. However, that doesn't mean that the prospect of staying here, in a now compromised lab, without your family, isn't much more unappealing than leaving with this stranger.
You swallow, ignoring the lump in your throat as you weigh your options. Maybe there's something to remaining within a certain proximity to those that attempted to destroy Father Daniel's work. You could learn about their operations, their goals and desires; then, when the time is right, you'll have information to share with your family. It might not be the simplest task, but it's better than waiting.
This man also knows more about the outside world than you do. You could always just use his offer as a way to get some distance and then bolt once you're somewhere more secure. It might be easier to find Father Daniel from somewhere...out there.
You can't will yourself to look at him as you nod, wounded pride only amplifying your anxiety.
"Okay." His voice gives you no indication of what he thinks of your compliance, but something tells you that he'll be cautious of you for awhile. "You gonna drop the knife?"
The request is spoken so casually, you do briefly consider listening. You've never been much of a physical fighter, and you're sure the stranger could easily overpower you regardless of your small weapon, but you can't bring yourself to let it go. Besides, the stranger gets to have multiple knives physically attached to him. You should get to keep your one.
You briefly lift your chin in a vague gesture towards his hands. "I'll lose mine when you lose yours."
Some aspect of him seems to shift, his brow relaxing and his lips pressing together. The differences are gone too soon for you to dwell on them, his expression returning to its default blankness as he turns. You assume that's the closest thing to an 'okay' that you're getting, so after a beat, you follow him.
----
a/n i was considering adding to it and it lowkey feels like a waste of lore not to, so if you'd like a part 2 lmk!!
thinking about bsf!logan, who thinks the title is ridiculous. best friends are for little kids trying to justify who they invite to their birthday parties, not for anyone like him. but there's something about the way you say it, voice measured as your attention shifts between him and the nail of your thumb as you picks at your nail beds.
there's a shyness to the silence that follows that does't suit you. it means something to you, he realizes, and that--that might mean something to him.
you, who seems to have the world at your fingertips because no one ever manages to say no to you. you, who is never missing from movie nights or impromptu training sessions or anything because you're the first person invited. you, who everyone is so fond of sometimes logan can feel their communal warmth burning him out of your life, like some beast that's only vulnerability is light.
it's a reality he's been aware of from the very beginning. it's part of the reason he promised himself that he'd never take anything you didn't offer him willingly. and here you are, giving him something.
so he accepts it with a teasing, "i'm the best you could do?" that's a lot gruffer than it needs to be. you beam regardless, sitting up a little straighter as you tuck your knuckles beneath your chin.
you mumble something about having limited options, the answer a little flatter than you usually are. it is late, and you are the type to push against your own tiredness to make sure someone's awake to greet your friends when they get back from a mission you weren't needed for.
with a sigh, he looks back to his nearly empty beer bottle. "isn't it late for you to be up?"
you're immediately protesting, swearing that you're fine and that you just want to talk to him. the lack of tact in your reaction only proves his point further, but instead of pushing it, he downs the last of his beer. your eyes narrow. the openness of your skepticism is another indicator of the drowsiness you're ignoring.
logan sighs, pushing himself to stand so that he doesn't have to look at you as he says this next part, "c'mon." it's flat in its stiffness, maybe even a little awkward. he keeps his gaze focused on what's directly in front of him. "if you want to be 12, you should have a sleepover."
there's a beat of silence, of hesitation, and then you're moving to stand. you remain there for a second, silent and still. regret burrows itself somewhere between his lungs and ribcage.
then, you scoff, the sound light and familiar. "having a best friend isn't that 12-year-old."
a part of him is glad that his back is still to you. "i know, bub, you're completely grown up."
you let out a breath that might be a laugh, or a yawn, or some odd combination of both, as you step forward. "don't make fun of me when i'm too tired to defend myself."
once you're by his side, he begins to walk away from the kitchen table. "i thought you were fine."
you turn your head enough to glare at him. "don't start."
without thinking, he reaches forward, placing a hand on your shoulder as a reminder that he can. "i'd never."
----
a/n take this concept/drabble hybrid while i work through both writer's block and an overwhelming amount of homework <3 also if u liked this pls feel free to send me asks with thoughts for this concept, i love secretly-pining-best-friend trope :)
Okay, so, secretly pining best friends with Logan! Very fun! Loved it!
But also, adults do have "sleepovers," (too tired/drunk/late to drive home, so you crash overnight on the couch) and depending on the dynamic of your friendship, can actually be a little taste of what domestic life would be like together. Just. Sitting together quietly, winding down from a good day, then getting ready for bed when one of you decides it's time to be A Responsible Adult and get a decent night's sleep (you're not kids anymore, after all. Sleep is important).
Waking up in the morning, knowing your best friend is here. Quietly making breakfast together, laughing over how sleepy you both are before coffee, lightly teasing each other over bed head and morning breath. Doing your morning routines together, pointing out stupid shit in the news or bitching over work emails, just drawing out the time before you have to get ready to face the real world.
Imagine Logan being one of those sleepy bear types who grumbles until he fully wakes up, who's soft and warm and domestic when he's with someone he trusts. Also, I imagine that if you tease him about needing to shave in the morning, he'd be the type to chase you down and rub his scruffy face on you in revenge, which is basically how a scruffy guy marks you as his. (His best friend? His potential future partner? No, just his in general.)
a/n yes, a hundred percent yes to all of this
----
The soft glow of the bedside lamp has transported you into another world. A universe made up of the faint scent of detergent and the feel of warm bedding beneath your fingertips.
You blink. There's no reason to feel as drowsy as you do, not when Logan's spent the last ten minutes scolding you. Still, though, something about sitting at the foot of his bed makes it easy to give into your lingering haze. It'd be easy to fall asleep like this.
"Don't," the instruction is flat, "Stay awake."
His back is still to you, which means there's no harm in openly frowning. "I am."
Logan's sigh is nearly masked by the gentle groan of a drawer being pushed shut. He turns around, expression still pinched but much less irritated than before. "Barely." You part your lips, some nonsensical protest waiting on the tip of your tongue, but Logan beats you to it, "Here."
He's extending an arm, a piece of fabric clutched loosely between his fingers. You blink again, this time focusing on the weight of your eyelids. The gesture is such a sharp contrast from his earlier attitude, you're nearly overwhelmed by your whiplash.
You stand before accepting the T-shirt. "Thought you were mad at me."
He lets out a breath, the sound sharp enough to constitute a warning. "I'm not--" His gaze shifts towards the ground. "You should have called me."
This again. "I was fine." His eyebrows draw together with the same level of offense that he used when you first presented this argument. "And I wasn't even alone, I was with Jean and Scott." He scoffs. "And you said to call you if anything went wrong, and nothing did."
Logan walks forward slowly, his steps measured until he's close enough to fully deteriorate your already fragile train of thought. In an attempt to regain control, you lift your head to look him in the eye. He frowns as he raises a hand, his fingers coming to rest beneath your chin.
He's careful as he tilts your head back. There's a weight to his silence. "You're drunk." All you can think to do is blink. He's known this, it's the main reason he's been lecturing you since the couple that graciously allowed you to third wheel all night dropped you off. "You're unreliable."
"Not that drunk."
The correction doesn't ease him. He studies you for another long moment before releasing you with a tired sigh. Maybe you should take it easy on him. It's not his fault he has the heart and patience of someone that's lived two centuries. You sigh. "Fine, next time I go out, I'll wake you up to come get me, even if I'm totally okay."
He ignores your sarcasm with expert ease. "Knew you'd get it, Princess."
You squeeze the T-shirt's fabric between your fingers in an attempt to ignore the warmth threatening to crawl up your neck. "I'm full of understanding."
"Yeah," he mumbles flatly, turning away from you as he walks towards his bed. You watch him with an openness that a more sober you would have never gotten away with. Logan had come to the door in a pair of loose sweats and no shirt. It had been easy to ignore his appearance when you were still in the giggly stages of being drunk. "Go change."
An instinctual desire to argue almost has you protesting, but you are tired of your going out clothes. And the thought of getting to pass out in Logan's bed for a few hours isn't exactly unappealing.
You pull the T-shirt over your head. Logan says your name, but you're too focused on adjusting the hemline to react. The shirt's large enough to cover most of your upper thigh, falling only an inch or two above the dress you're wearing. You slip the dress's straps off of your shoulders before reaching beneath the shirt's loose fabric. You tug at the dress's zipper before slipping the material down your legs.
You pick up the discarded fabric, folding the dress before placing it on top of Logan's dresser. He's uncharacteristically quiet as you approach the available side of his bed. "You seem tired."
He leans towards his nightstand, arm stretching outwards to turn of his bedside lamp. His eyes settle on some point a little past your shoulder. "Not all of us are 20-somethings that can stay up all night."
It's a teasing comment, likely an attempt at preemptively limiting your usual 10 to 15 minutes of yapping before actually attempting to fall asleep, but it digs at you. Jean was the one that insisted on letting Logan babysit you, you wanted to let him sleep. "I didn't want to wake you up."
Logan shifts, his bent leg nearly brushing against yours. "I wasn't asleep," the words are low, careful, "But if I had been--you wake me up." He pauses. "I'd rather that than know you're walking around drunk and looking like that."
An uneasy heat spreads through your chest. You focus on the bedding pooled over your lap. Like that--the kind of comment that'd usually have you insulting the person making it for attempted slut shaming. But Logan's voice is too distant for you to find any insult in it, even in a teasing context.
You bend fabric between your fingers, pressing the nail of your thumb into the material. You nod once.
He shifts towards you, his warmth becoming impossible to ignore beneath shared bedding. "I sleep better like this anyway."
The words are uncharacteristically soft, almost cautious. You lean into the feeling of them, allowing your back to relax against a pillow.
You've shared a bed with Logan before, usually after hanging out with him a little too late and once on a mission where you had to pretend to be recently engaged to avoid blowing your cover. It's not exactly common, but you know how he sleeps enough to know that he's not exaggerating. As soon as he's asleep, he loses the ability to be aware of personal space, an arm across your waist and chin pressed into your shoulder.
"Considering the way you take up the entire bed, I'm sure."
He exhales, the sound more pointed than it needs to be. "You steal blankets."
You scoff. "That's so not true." The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards, the look much too triumphant. What a lame argument--you don't steal blankets, you're not given a chance to. As soon as Logan's on you, it's nearly impossible to move. "Like I can steal blankets out from under your adamantium skeleton."
Logan tilts his head, eyes narrowing in a way that promises nothing good. "You're saying I'm heavy."
Well, when framed like that, anything can sound rude. "No." You press your lips together to keep from laugh. "I"m saying your skeleton is literally made of metal..." You straighten in an attempt to make yourself focus. "...And metal is--" Your mental hold slips, a soft laugh tumbling past your lips as you try to think of a politically correct way to make your point. "...Heavy."
He leans forward, his knee brushing against your leg. There's a tact to his movement, a deliberateness better suited for the violence of the outside world. A warning, you realize, a moment too late.
Logan shifts his weight. You laugh as his hands find a place on each of your shoulders. "That's the same thing."
Helplessly, you press a palm against his chest. Your halfhearted protests do nothing to sway him. You laugh again, elbow pressing into the mattress in an attempt to steady yourself. Logan moves a hand to the back of your head before letting the brunt of his weight fall onto you.
You let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a squeal as you're pushed down. Your head hits the pillow, but the suddenness of the motion doesn't hurt. His forearm is resting near your head, turning him into more of an implication than an actual force capable of crushing you.
You let yourself smile openly. For someone that's always willing to remind you of his age, he has no problem acting like a child. Your lips part, but the laugh attempting to crawl up your throat dies before it can slip out.
Logan's watching you, his eyebrows drawn together in a way you can't interpret. His warmth, the feel of him against you, all of it, loses its humor.
He stays like that for what could be awhile, or no time at all. Then, Logan shifts, his arm moving away from the side of your head. Before you can overthink the change, he's resting his head against your upper stomach.
He's--there's never been this much openness about physical contact. Sure, you guys are comfortable with each other, with you having no issue resting your head against his shoulder during movies or reaching for his hand after a particularly rough mission, but that's--that's usually you.
You force yourself to recover, focusing on your breathing to keep from outing yourself. With the kind of care you'd use to keep from scaring off a skittish stray, you move a hand towards his back. He briefly stiffens as you drag your fingers against his skin, but after a second, he exhales. "You're like a house cat."
You feel Logan's sigh more than you hear it. "I'm not answering that." That's okay. You're happy enough without his validation.
Things stay quiet, and you slip further into the realm between sleep and consciousness. "You--you're um--okay, right?" The question is stiff, maybe even a little awkward. You're so close to sleep, you can't bring yourself to get what he's asking. "Comfortable?"
You're glad to not have to hide your smile. "Yeah," you mumble, voice distant, "It's nice."
You're not sure what you're referencing, but Logan doesn't ask, so you decide it doesn't really matter.
----
The light is a tangible thing, felt against your skin before you can squint your eyes open to see it.
You shift, noting the dull ache of your head as you lift your hand to wipe at your face. Wait.
It comes back to you all at once--the drinking, the after drinking, Logan.
You open your eyes fully. It's instinct to shift, but it's nearly impossible to do much more than lift your head. Logan's asleep, his head resting against your ribs and arm draped over your waist. How did you not notice this?
It would make sense for Logan to be a light sleeper. Even when he's at ease, he never seems fully settled in the feeling. So you're careful as you move, head turning as you try to look at him.
Logan's breathing loses its consistency before you can fully embrace the privacy. His fingers press into your hip so briefly you almost convince yourself the contact is only a product of your early morning haze.
He moves onto his back, palm brushing against your shirt as he leaves you. "Morning, princess."
There's something comforting about hearing his voice first thing in the morning. "Good morning." The words are a little raspier than you thought they'd be, difficult to force out around your hazy discomfort.
The corner of Logan's mouth pulls itself upwards. "I thought 20-somethings didn't get hangovers."
You roll your eyes. There are a lot of aspects of Logan's personality that warrant old man jokes, but his alcohol tolerance isn't one of them. You roll onto your side, propping your head up on one elbow. "I'm not hungover."
The almost-smile grows into something more assured. You let yourself enjoy the easiness of it. "Sure you're not, bub." The response is so warm you have to work at keeping your halfhearted pout.
Logan shifts, the mattress dipping as he sits up. "C'mon." He turns his head, looking at you from over his shoulder. "You'll feel better after you eat something."
The mention of food makes you aware of a hollowness you hadn't yet noticed. The thought of breakfast feels perfectly settling. You sit up with a smile, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "You're not gonna make me eat weird hangover cures, are you?"
He pushes himself to stand. "You're going to have to take that chance."
There's no humor in his tone, and his back is to you so you can't read his expression, but something tells you it's safe to follow him out of his room, anyway.
Song Prompt Masterlist
This includes any and all Song Masterlist, if it's from a list of songs I made to make fics to then it is on here
Main Masterlist
SONG LIST 1
It’s Christmas Eve (Peter Parker x Gender Neutral Reader)⛈-Based off of The Bad List by Z Berg and Ryan Ross-Song 1- 2|7|21
Thinking You Could Live Without Me? (Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)⛈-Based off of Without Me by Halsey-Song 2- 2|9|21
I Could Never (Loki)⛈-Based off of I’ll Never Love Again from the film A Star Is Born-by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper-Song 3- 2|11|21
‘Cause They Don’t Know (Wanda Maximoff)☁️-Based off of Bad Reputation by Shawn Mendes-Song 4- 2|12|21
Let Me Start Off (Tony Stark)☁️-Based off of You Should Be Sad by Halsey-Song 5- 2|16|21
Baby Bye Bye (Tony Stark)⛈-Based off of All She Wrote by Firehouse-Song 6- 2|18|21
I Don’t Know Why I Cry (Clint Barton)⛈- Based off of Used To Love by Gwen Stefani-Song 7 2|23|21
Meet Me (Pietro Maximoff)☁️-Based off of Eastside by Benny Blanco, Halsey and Khalid-Song 8- 2|26|21
I’m A Hazard (Natasha Romanoff)⛈-Based off of We Don’t Have To Dance by Andy Black-Song 9-3|1|21
Give Me A Minute (Tony Stark)☁️- Based off of Irreplaceable by Beyoncé-Song 10-3|8|21
Don’t Let That Take Us Away (Natasha Romanoff x Gender Neutral Reader)🌧- Based off of You Get My Love by P!NK-Song 11-3|8|21
Story of Us (Steve Rogers)-Based off of Story Of Us by Taylor Swift-Song 12-3|10|21
Bite Back (Tony Stark)-Based off of Silent All These Years by Tori Amos-Song 13-3|10|21
I’m Not That Type of Girl (Peter Maximoff) 🌈-Based off of Speak Now by Taylor Swift-Song 14-3|14|21
And She (Wanda Maximoff)🌈- Based off of She by dodie-Song 15-3|15|21
When We Were Young (Bucky Barnes)🌈-Based off of When We Were Young cover by Andy Black and Juliet Simms-Song 16-3|18|21
Get Your Hands Off My Hips (Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, and Steve Rogers)☁️- Based off of Take A Hint by Elizabeth Gillies and Victoria Justice (from Victorious)-Song 17-3|19|21
One Step Closer (Loki)🌈-Based off of A Thousand Years PT. 2 by Christina Perri ft. Steve Kazee-Song 18-3|22|21
100 Years (Steve Rogers)🌈- Based off of Turning Page by Sleeping At Last-Song 19-3|28|21
I Can Tell (Peter Parker)🌈- Based off of We Are Gonne Be Friends by The White Stripes-Song 20-4|9|21
Ghost of You (Steve Rogers)⛈-Based off of Ghost of You by 5 Seconds of Summer-Song 21-4|11|21
As I Watched (Peter Parker)🌈-Based off of Begin Again by Taylor Swift-Song 22-4|15|21
You Look Happier (Bucky Barnes)⛈- Based off of Happier by Ed Sheeran-Song 23-4|17|21
Too Well (Scott Summers)⛈-Based off of All Too Well by Taylor Swift-Song 24-4|17|21
I Know You’re There (Jean Grey)🌧-Based off of Do You Wanna Build A Snowman from Frozen-Song 25-4|17|21
Our Song (Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader)🌈-Based off of Our Song by Taylor Swift-Song 24-4|18|21
I Swear To God (Alex Summers)☁️-Based off of my ex’s best friend by Machine Gun Kelly ft. blackbear- Song 27-4|18|21
This Ain’t Our Fairytale (Steve Rogers)⛈-Based off of White Horse by Taylor Swift-Song 28-4|18|21
I Didn’t Mean To Fall In Love (Steve Rogers)⛈-Based off of Hush Hush by Avril Lavigne-Song 29-4|18|21
Die Young (Avengers)⛈-Based off of If I Die Young by The Band Perry-Song 30-4|22|21
Die Young (X-MEN)⛈-Based off of If I Die Young by The Band Perry-Song 30-4|22|21
Sour (On Hold)
brutal–Peter Parker/Spiderman (Tom Holland) and Rogue
traitor–Scott Lang/Antman and Logan Howlett/Wolverine
drivers license–Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow and Scott Summers/Cyclops
1 step forward, 3 steps back–Loki Friggason and Sean Cassidy/Banshee
deja vu–Thor Odinson and Ororo Munroe/Storm
good 4 u–Sam Wilson/Captain America/Falcon and Jean Grey/Phoenix
enough for you–Tony Stark/Iron Man and Raven Darkholme/Mystique
happier–Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch and Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver
jealousy, jealousy–Everyone
favorite crime–Pietro Maximoff and Warren Worthington III/Angel
hope ur ok– Bucky Barnes/White Wolf/Winter Soldier + Steve Rogers/Captain America and Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto + Emma Frost
CHARLES XAVIER IS HOT? -WADE
Logan howlett x reader
-
DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS!!! AND DAYS OF FUTURE PAST BUT I CAN ONLY HOPE EVERYONE HAS SEEN THAT.
-
Warnings: erm idk. Kinda a short one. All will make sense soon. God help me. Major Canon divergence
-
When i first joined the x-mansion as a student, Charles Xavier was old. Though I had heard from plenty of people who knew him as a young adult that he was rather good looking.
I refused to think of my old and wrinkly professor in that way. Mostly because he'd see it and be absolutely horrified I assume.
-
"Logan, I don't think there's anyone here," I stated as he approached the mansion.
Covered in vines and surrounded by rotting timber and splintering trees, the x mansion had Definitely seen better days.
"It's not looking likely that's For sure" he replied.
"Do you guys think Happy Wheels will be here? God I wanna see that old fucker"
Wade was trying to be funny, but Logan and I just glared at him and kept walking. The door to the mansion was rotting and chipping away.
"I think we're in the past" I said, guessing mostly.
Logan pushed open the door gently, and inside stood one man. He was raggedy and bearded.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked the stranger.
"My name is Charles Xavier," he stated, "the real question is who are you? All of you"
"Ho-ly fuck! Charles Xavier is hot?" Wade Gasped loudly with his hands to his mouth
"Was" Logan corrected
"I don't knooooow. I'd let old rolly hit it too"
Me and logan both made disgusted noises.
-
🧠
When Xavier first learnt, I could also use telepathy. It was when I tried to kill Jean. He stopped me and told me to find him in the office.
He tried to help me control it and tried to help me let it get under control so that I wouldn't go insane. But I did. I went crazy, and I would scream and cry and yell and rattle the walls.
And then, one day, without any warning.
It stopped.
I never rattled another wall again
-
"So, you're all from the future?" Charles furrowed his eyebrows.
"More or less, yeah, we're not supposed to be here" Logan spoke.
Well, we have been here before technically. We're just a bit out of time. I scratched my neck awkwardly.
"We didn't necessarily come here to find you. We just have to get back home" I said to charles
Wade's mouth was still agape. "Jesus, you are gorgeous, aren't you?" He was close and personal with Charles, he might as well have been inside his skin.
"Jesus man, have you ever heard of personal space or decency?" Charles scoffed and stood up, walking away from wades perverse self.
"And turn those fucking thoughts off" Charles groaned and pointed to Wade.
"Listen. I know how crazy we are from the future sounds. But to make things worse, you're also a professor in the future, and you teach" I pointed to me and Logan "us"
"I can't help you guys, i don't know what to do" Charles shrugged.
-
Why do you stick by him?
You love him, don't you?
-
🧠
By far, my weirdest interaction in the TVA was when i met a variant of Xavier, and he seemed to know me quite well. He could name my favourite colour, food, even my favourite candle and my favourite animal.
Upon closer inspection, i saw a ring on his finger. Sparkling gold with a small blue gem. I didn't bother to ask what the blue meant, I only knew that my ring on my finger was the same.
It became clear then that this was a Xavier variant I may have married in a way distant universe.
I called for the immediate expulsion of the variant instantly after.
-
Don't let him go
Do it I dare you
You love him
You love him
You love him
He's not yours
You can't do this
Don't do this
Don't do it
It's not right
-
"Charles?" I said.
It was nighttime. We were forced to take shelter in the mansion as we knew we had nowhere else to go.
"Yes?" The bearded man turned to me
"Can you do me a favor?"
-
Please send I more requests. 🦅🦅🦅🦅 I am desperate to write more and for some reason my fics are beginning to go crazy around here.
if u say so! reader teasing logan about his cat-like hair
SURE!
-
"Babe, you know since you're styling your hair like that again, I'll have to have you shitting in the kitty litter," you said as you took a gulp of your orange juice
Topics at the breakfast table in the howlett household got thrown like odd shaped stones. You never know which one your gonna get next.
"What you don't like it?", He said (grumbled) as he inhaled his scrambled eggs.
"Oh, I absolutely love it. I've loved all of your hairstyles babe we've been together for more than 100 years you've looks very different lots of times" you grinned as you wiped my face and took your plate to the sink.
It's true. Logan has had so many different hairs. Shaved. Overgrown. Short and fluffy. And now Kitty eared. He's had it before. But now it's back, and you truly can't get enough of it.
"The kitty ears a definitely a personal favourite" you smiled As you straddled his lap.
Logan grinned up at you as he leaned his head forward slightly and held your hips. You began to play with the cat ear tufts in his brunette locks, you couldn't help but giggle.
"Does this amuse you?" He asked.
"Very much" you replied and continued to play with his hair.
Let death be kinder than any x-men
Logan howlett x reader
---
ERRRRM I WOULD SAY DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS BUT WERE IN DAYS OF FUTURE PAST🦅😃
-
Warnings: I still don't know 😭 the reader makes a massive mistake. Idek if this is how xaviers powers work but wtv. Major Canon divergence. 🎶 represents when Charles is talking to reader in their head.
-
I know that sometimes I ask for too much sometimes. And I think today I did. It really does depend on how you define mistakes.
I knew Charles would help me. How did I know that the 21 year old version of my old professor 60 years in the future would help me? Because I just knew Charles Xavier like that.
"You want me to what?" He scratched his jaw.
"I want you to get inside logan's head and tell me what he's thinking of," I gulped and leant against the wall.
I could only tell that this would have consequences beyond my understanding. Beyond perhaps what anyone could really understand.
"I can try. I would ask why you need this, but I already know," he grinned with his lips high to his nose.
I scoffed a laugh and looked out into the city through the trees. Dark lights and fireflies. Night-time and fireworks. Onyx that encased sparks of all colours.
"So you'll help me?"
"Of course I will. What else do have to do in this damn world?"
-
🧠
There was this one time at the mansion when I punched Scott summers in the mouth for telling Logan he was a coward. I let him drip blood on the floor and make noises of pain as he held his painful jaw that would be bruised and red by tomorrow.
"Don't you ever fucking say that shit again"
-
It was a warm night, though still cool enough for a bonfire. Even though we were supposed to be in the middle of a fight with the sister of the man, I was sitting beside and saving the other mutants, we had collectively agreed, Wade and I, that a night to sit here wouldn't hurt. And convincing Logan was not easy, but he pulled through with an offer of whiskey.
After a while, Wade passed out, and Charles was minding his own business on the grass, when we asked what he was up to he replied 'I'm on the phone' but he had no phone in sight, and it took Logan a few seconds to realise.
I didn't know what to say to Logan. I didn't feel like saying anything or if anything would even work. He probably doesn't want to say anything either. After our altercation in the void, I didn't know what the fuck was going on anymore. I wanted to ask about it, but I was afraid his answer would be exactly as I thought.
"I didn't mean it" he said suddenly "what I said in the void, I didn't mean it"
It had genuinely shook me that he was first to bring it up.
"Oh," I said. "I was gonna ask you what happened, but I wasn't sure if anytime was going to be right"
Logan chuckled. For an unknown reason, he just did and sipped his drink. "Anytime after I die is perfect for these kinds of things"
I tried to smile and act like I was cool but in reality I was dying inside. I was screaming kicking and crying and throwing up and tearing adamantium bars off jail cells.
"I don't know what came over me," he admitted. "The truth is in my universe my wife was experimented on by scientists. Fuckin mad men"
I couldn't tell in the light, mostly because I wasn't looking at him but I could hear it. He started to tear up. I could hear the tightness in his throat, the strain on his voice.
"And-" He stuttered.
"And do you know what the worst part is?"
I don't.
I should. I feel like I should. But I shouldn't. I couldn't. I didn't want to know. Or did I?
🎶 "You do"
"What's the worst part Logan?"
"They did it right in front of me. Right in fuckin front of me!" He lurched forward and slashed one of the trees, causing it to fall in threes.
He panted. Growled. Boiled with rage that set the ground alight in metaphorical fire. Raging flames, like wildfire. Upset and grief that acted fuel.
"It's not your fault, logan" I said softly
"BUT IT IS!" He yelled back at me.
He put his claws away and sighed, looking away for a moment to catch his breath "I'm sorry"
"It's alright" I replied
Logan rubbed his face "Let's call it a truce. I swear I won't try to turn you into shredded meat again" he held out his hand.
"Sure. No shredded meat" I put my hand in his, shaking it.
They were fucking hairy and calloused. And heavy. Maybe the world's manliest hands. And veiniest. Fuck what am I doing?
"No shredded meat" he repeated
And we both laughed
These are so cute, I love them
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐗-𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes: charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, logan howlett, marie lebeau, and peter maximoff
↳ warnings: x-man type violence maybe? nothing much
↳ notes: just some self indulgent headcanons about how the gang would deal with someone who hates skin on skin contact. this is based on my own personal experiences, so it might not cater to everyone. charles and erik are written to be more of themselves around the first class era, peter is himself as seen in apocalypse, and marie & logan are more set in the first movie's portrayal of them
↳ song: heavy metal lover—lady gaga
masterlist | commissions | carrd
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 [𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐗]
• Oh this is not one bit of a problem for Charles
• He's never needed physical contact to connect with people. Whether that's because of his powers, or his 'natural charm' as he calls it, you aren't sure, but your strange request for no contact never seemed to put him off his friendship with you
• Charles has his own ways of bonding with you, no hugs or handshakes required. Instead of nudges used to alert the other of a particularly funny joke, he'd just send you flashes in your mind regarding the situation. The end result was always the same; with the both of you grinning at each other while the rest of the room was left to make their own assumptions as to what you were thinking about
• "Seriously, it's creepy when they do that. They could be talking about anything." Alex whispered to Hank one day as you and Charles stood across the room from each other, not caring if the Professor was able to hear him or not. The only sign that you were even talking was the occasional huff of laughter Charles would let out as you scrunched your nose up in a toothy grin
• "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Hanks eyes gleam from behind his glasses as he watches the two of his friends. "Charles tells me most of it is just really bad jokes, if you want to know."
• As if on cue, the spell between you and Charles breaks as you delve into a laughing fit, and Alex and Hank can't help but shake their heads at each other in slight amusement as they watch
• He does an excellent job at speaking for you when you can't quite explain to new people why you are the way you are—as long as you'll let him, of course
• Maybe it's because he's been in your head, or just because he knows you so well that he can say exactly what you're thinking before you even know it. And sometimes, he doesn't even need to explain much at all. One carefully worded sentence backed with that steady tone of his is enough to make even the most ignorant of people understand
• "No handshakes for them, please." Charles had found himself saying that sentence more times than he could count since getting to know you, but he never found himself growing tired of it; even when you eventually found the awkward courage to start speaking on your behalf. Especially when you started speaking on your behalf
• Charles is a very patient man, and he couldn't be happier than to wait for you to open up to the world like you had done for him, even if it does take a while
𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫 [𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐨]
• I'm going to be completely honest with you. At first, Erik finds your habit of avoiding touch annoying
• It's a weakness in his eyes that you have every opportunity to avoid acquiring. He doesn't see the point in being afraid of something so miniscule
• When he first meets you, he's probably an asshole about it. Erik doesn't go out of his way to touch you on purpose, but he won't take extra steps to stop himself from doing so. If the back of his hand brushes against yours as he storms away from another one of Charles' annoying lectures? Then so be it. Who cares if you pull back from him like you've been burned, clutching your skin tightly as you glare at his retreating form
• It will take a while for Erik to begin to understand you, much like it does for him to understand a lot of things about the rest of the world. I won't say that he ever officially apologizes for his past behavior toward you, but he definitely drops hints that he does regret it
• "Never thought I'd live to hear the Erik Lehnsherr himself say sorry for something he did. Next you'll be telling me you've always liked humans." Your eyes were wide in faux surprise as you stared at him one day, looking like you had just heard the best news of your life. It was a good thing you and Erik had a much better relationship than when you had first met, otherwise he wouldn't have had a second thought about shutting you up
• "All I said was that maybe I maybe could have been a bit nicer to you." He sighed, already regretting this entire interaction
• "Oh, you're not getting off that easy." You were already scrambling for the door, completely missing the way Erik rolled his eyes and flicked his hand up in preparation. "Charles! Charles, you'll never believe what just happened—"
• He ended up using your belt buckle to drag you across the room before you could embarrass him any further
• Once he's warmed up to you, I'd like to think that he's definitely used the fact that lots of people wear rings and bracelets to his advantage to stop people from touching you at bars or in crowds
• He swears up and down he doesn't get attached to anyone, and especially not someone that associates with the X-Men of all groups, but you've definitely have had a few people look at their hands around you in confusion while he's around. Almost as if someone else had a say in their actions
• "Big softie."
• "You do know I could kill you if I wanted to."
• "I'd like to retract my last statement, please and thank you."
𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 [𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]
• Logan doesn't give two shits about your strange request
• Not in the way that he ignores it like Erik, but rather in the way that he literally doesn't give a fuck if you want to be touched or not. He wasn't planning on touching you anyways, so it's not like he really has to think about it
• If anything, Logan is one of the only people who can even begin to understand your mindset. He's never been too fond of people just outright touching him without a warning first, especially if they were strangers, but that's what you get after being experimented on for years
• He'll have to get to both know and like you before he starts taking your words more seriously. Otherwise, all you're getting from him is a gruff noise of disinterest and a roll of his shoulders as he blows past you
• Or ar least that's what he'd like you to think
• "Watch it, pal." You barely had time to process what that noise was next to your ear before Logan was standing dangerously close to you. You were about to ask him to back away before you saw his hand up, and when you looked at his hand you saw it was closed around a strangers wrist; the likes of which was outreached in your direction and just about to make contact with you
• Logans rough tone and sharp glare had sent the fellow stumbling away with an apology, and left you standing there with a bewildered look on your face. It only grew larger when he refused to look at you afterward
• "Don't let it get to your head." Was all he huffed out in your general direction before walking off to continue the mission the both of you were on. Through the com's in your ears, you could hear the rest of the team asking you what was going on, and with a slow upward tick of your lip you finally answered
• "I think Wolverine here has gone a bit soft on my end guys."
• You were given the cold shoulder for the rest of the week by Logan, and every time he glared at you, you couldn't help but try to hold in laughter
• "See, this is why I'm not nice."
• "No no no I take it all back, I swear. You're so mean. You're the meanest, toughest person here, never done a good deed in your life—"
• "Shut the fuck up."
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 [𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]
• She doesn't understand why you'd choose to have people not touch you
• For Marie, not being able to hug someone— to even so much as hold hands with the people she loved —is a curse. She wasn't such a fool to think that her mutation itself was the curse, Charles had managed to drill that thought out of her head a long while ago, but the side-effect that came with it would forever haunt her
• So when she found out that you actively took strides to make sure no one ever touched you (if possible), she was in disbelief
• "I just don't get it." She'd confessed to you out of the blue once. "How can you stand it? If I were you—"
• "But you're not." You cut her off and shrugged, voice devoid of any meanness or annoyance at the turn of conversation. "I get it. I must seem crazy to you. I'd imagine that you'd jump at the chance to be able to touch someone again. But that just isn't me. I can't stand the feeling of being touched. Makes me feel gross; inside and out. I don't ask you to understand it, just that you respect it. Yeah?"
• She had nodded slowly at you, not expecting the sudden explanation. It wasn't unwelcome, however. Quite the contrary. She'd rather understand you than stew in quiet confusion
• From that moment on, even if Marie thinks you're a little crazy in the head, she does her best to make sure that both herself and others take your wishes to heart
• You have to admit, it's nice having her look out for you. And it helps that she's one of the most powerful mutants on campus; one sideways look from her, and she could send anyone in the opposite direction from you if you need
𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 [𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫]
• You're constantly having to remind him that you don't like people touching you
• It's not Peter's fault he forgets sometime. His brain is always going going going from one thing to the next. Thinking about the next mission, the quickest way to get from one end of the country to the other, how to beat that stupid kid at the arcade that keeps leaving him and his high scores in the dust—
• Okay so maybe he could do a bit of a better job of trying to listen
• "Peter, reach for the back of my neck again and I'm gonna break both of your legs." You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was itching to latch onto your neck, most likely to take you on a surprise trip a few states over. Or maybe just to the mall. He was spontaneous like that
• When you did manage to look up from your notebook and back at him, you found that Peter was already a good few feet away from you, holding up his hands with a deceivingly innocent smile; but respecting your wishes all the same
• "You sure you're not a secret nun or something?" He poked fun at the way you refused to let anyone touch you, even going as far to squint at you in an unconvinced manner. You ignored his clear misunderstanding of nuns to snort in amusement
• "No."
• "Could have fooled me, babe."
• He sped away before you had the chance to throw your papers at his head
• Peter's probably the kind of guy to constantly tease you to your face, but the moment you're not in sight and someone's ragging on you, he'll shut them down. He's done it many times to stray students in the hallways of the school who talk just a little too loud about your personal boundaries
• "I'm just saying, man, they're a little weird. The other day, I asked to borrow a pencil, and they threw it at me. While standing less than a foot away. It's just strange—"
• Less than a second later, the student was sent falling to the floor over his shoelaces, which were suspiciously tied together in contrast to moments ago when they had been placed in neat little bows
• The only sign that this hadn't been a freak accident was the telltale burst of wind that sped by the student and their friend, a faint laugh following in its wake
thinking about logan with a ftm!reader who hasn’t had top surgery and you’re just pissing logan off until he tells you to “shut the fuck up or he’ll cut your tits off” and you’re just like… “you promise?”