Imagine: Kurt being the only person who can calm you down during a panic attack
Kurt Wagner x Mutant!Reader
Mutation: Electricity Manipulation
Warning: Anxiety, Panic Attack
Professor Xavier swiveled around in his wheelchair upon hearing Hank McCoy clear his throat from behind him. Charles looked at Hank, who raised his eyebrows and gave the professor a stiff jerk of the head to indicate that Hank needed him promptly. Probably had something to do with the X-Men, the elite group of mutants you had been recruited to fight for. Ever since Apocalypse, you’ve been training with all your friends to save the world.
Charles turned back to the class, most of which was still writing madly on sheets of notebook paper, trying to keep up the professor’s detailed lessons. He began to speak. “Alright, your assignment tonight will be to read all of chapters fifteen and sixteen and to do a detailed write up on them”–he didn’t wait to hear the disappointed groans ring through the room–”Due tomorrow. Class dismissed.”
You stood, picking up your large and very overwhelming stack of about four binders and two textbooks. You held the stack tightly to your chest due to fear of the loose-leaf sheets of paper getting free and fluttering to the ground. Class with Charles, where he taught basic genetics over time, was your last class of the day, which meant it was time to begin homework.
You almost groaned, when the sound of pounding footsteps registered. Jubilee, one of your best and first friends you’d made at the mansion, shouted from behind you. “Hey, Y/N! Wait up!”–Jubilee was by your side in a moment–”Hey, are you going to the movies with us tonight?”
“Um, who’s us?” You replied without thinking, mentally cursing yourself for doing so. You had no intentions of going. The amount of homework you had just from Professor Xavier’s class alone was enough to keep you busy for at least two hours, not to mention all of your other classes.
Hank McCoy, who had just recently become a teacher, didn’t exactly know how to take it easy on you either. You felt like you were drowning, a symptom you often felt when your anxiety kicked in, which it liked to do when things piled on top of you, figuratively and, as you recently discovered during the fight with Apocalypse, literally. You also knew Kurt Wagner had a special gift when it came to calming you down; he was the only one who could.
“Me, Scott, Jean, Peter, Kurt, and, hopefully, you!” Jubilee said, listing off all the people that had agreed to go to her movie outing. You had sort of begun to zone out when the last name caught your attention. Kurt said he was going. You felt confused and couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed. Kurt had promised to help you study for your anatomy course taught by Miss Schrink. You both had a test on Friday and it was already Wednesday. You’d, in your opinion, wasted enough time as it was.
“Wait, Kurt’s going?”–you mused under your breath–“He told me he was going to help me study,” you didn’t know what to think and, frankly, it was help your anxiety much. You were already stressed about your anatomy test, genetics homework, chemistry project. You couldn’t afford to be worrying about Kurt trying to be in multiple places at once, but there you were, making a big fuss about nothing. You didn’t want to read too much into it, but you did, against your will. You had been hurt enough times. But Kurt isn’t like them, you always told yourself. And it always worked.
“Oh. Maybe he forgot?”–apparently, Jubilee had heard you–“Don’t read too much into it. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it,” Jubilee did her best to comfort you, which actually did some good. You agreed with her word. The German boy you had grown to care so much wouldn’t hurt anyone, not on purpose. His compassion and kindness ran deep and naturally, unlike you, who had to make a conscious effort to be half as nice as Kurt was. That was one of the things you so loved about him and the list was very, very long. Jubilee, yet again, pulled you out of your thoughts. “So, you gonna come?”
“I’m sorry, Jubi, I really can’t. I am drowning in homework and not just Professor Xavier’s assignment,” you replied in as soft a voice as you could, laughing slightly at the end of your phrase. It wasn’t necessarily an excuse, considering excuses are typically lies. You were drowning in homework and you’d just found out you would be studying for the anatomy test alone, so you also had to make flash cards and things so it would be easier to quiz yourself. Jubilee frowned, realized she was frowning, and smiled slightly.
“No, no, it’s fine. I totally get it,” Jubilee shrugged. You couldn’t tell if she was doing an extremely good job keeping the disappointment out of her voice, or if she was actually cool with you skipping out on the movie. You’d totally forgotten all about it and sort of wondered how long it had been planned. But, then you remembered that Jubilee was involved and almost all of her plans are spontaneous. She smiles. “Good luck with your homework.”
“Thanks, Jubi,” you replied, returning her gracious smile. You both turned in different directions and started to walk away when a thought occurred to you. You had to talk to Kurt. You didn’t even feel mad that he told you he would study and told Jubilee that he would go to the group movie. You just wanted to clear it up to get a better understand of what exactly it was he planned on doing tonight. Whatever he wound up choosing was fine by you. You turned back and called after the girl in the yellow jacket. “Hey, if you see Kurt, will you send him my way?”
“Sure,” Jubilee answer your question and turned back around to walk. You watched her for a moment before turning back around, hoisting you books back up to a more comfortable position, and started making your way back to your room. You had already begun running through the list of things you had to do tonight when Jubilee’s voice rang through the hallway again, causing you to turn back around to listen. “Will you help me on my write up tomorrow morning?”
You were confused. Professor Xavier assigned the project for tonight, making it due tomorrow. And it was a lot of work to do as well. It wasn’t like you could skim the pages and write a few sentences on the very little you did read. That wasn’t at all how this assignment was going to go down. You tilted your head at the flamboyant mutant who was living life almost the same way Peter was; second to second with no regard for the future. You began. “Tomorrow morning? It’s due tomorrow!”
“I know. I’m going to the movies instead”–Jubilee’s shoulders bobbed up and down and her voice was nonchalant–“I’ll tell your boyfriend to go to your room if I see him,” she winked at your rosy cheeks and tossed her hair over her shoulder, leaving you in the hallway at last. You laughed a little bit and turned to finally make your way to your dorm, as you’d been attempting to for a while now.
You kicked the door open to your room after struggling for a while to get the thing open. You closed your eyes, channeling your mutation through your veins and, once you opened your eyes, the light was on, along with the lamp on your desk. You tossed your books, which seemed to get heavier the longer you held them, on your bed and watched them as they spread and slid around, no longer bound to each other by your arms. Looking at all the work you had to do made your heartbeat increase.
“Oh my God”–you clapped a hand to your forehead–“I’m never gonna get done and then I’m going to fail and then I won’t be able to be in the X-Men anymore. Oh my God,” you mumbled quickly. That’s when you felt the contraction in your chest and the lack of air flowing. Dear God, please not right now. The lights around you began to flicker and the noise of electricity accompanied them. You felt as it became increasingly harder to breathe. You tried to stop it, but your efforts were futile.
You were prone to anxiety and had been having panic attacks since you were young. Many people thought that is was the stress that you felt when you had to tell your parents about your mutation. That was your first, of many, panic attacks. Your parents didn’t react well, which just made t worse for you too. Charles says that childhood trauma can often lead to the development of mental diseases you wouldn’t otherwise have. You think the confrontation with your parents was what contributed to your anxiety.
You struggled to move air and walk back, back, back until you hit the wall. You slid down the wall, struggling to breathe and trying to regain control of your body and your emotions. It was hard because your emotions were always so electric that it was hard to keep them under control. One of your palms laid flat on you chest and the other arm was wrapped around your knees, which were curled into your stomach. You focused on breathing, but it was no use. You needed Kurt.
“Y/N? Jubilee said you ver looking for–,” the door clicked open and, as if on cue, Kurt began to enter your room. You were flooded with relief and you knew that you could not yell out to him, but he would find you. That you knew. He would always find you. His voice cut short when he saw you against the wall and his face dropped. His body sprang into action and he was on his knees in a second, gathering you into his arms. “Oh, Y/N! It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here now. Hush, hush.”
Kurt then began to sing a German lullaby that he knew from when he was a child. His prehensile tail wrapped around your waist and his arms cradled you as he sang. It always worked. Slowly, but surely, you began to calm down, regain control of your breath and body. Everything reset like none of it had ever happened and you were grateful for that fact. But most of all, you were grateful for the blue, German boy that was by your side every time it happened and didn’t leave until it was over. Kurt began babbling. “I’m sorry for not being here sooner. If I had known then I would’ve–.”
You had the idea that his apology came more from the fact that he had been on his way here to tell you that he was sorry for the mix up about the movie and studying for anatomy. He didn’t know you weren’t mad at him and that saddened you. That’s when you realized that Kurt my have thought that that minor issue was the source of your panic attack. You cut him off with soft, gravelly words. “No, Kurt, you’re here. You came when I needed you. Thank you for being here when I needed you.”
Kurt just studied you. Stared at you. His yellow eyes flitted over every part of your face, taking in every detail line he was seeing you for the first time. Every time he looked at you, it was like the first time. Your heart raced and not because you were about to have a panic attack. You were gazing into the face, the eyes, of a man you loved so much, not even Charles could dig it out of your head. Nobody understood except the two of you, and you and Kurt were both very okay with that. Kurt’s voice was like music. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Kurt,” you replied. Everything with him felt like the first time. Looking at him, touching him, hugging him. Everything. Not a day went by when a thought occurred to you that someday, your love would grow old and you would both be tired. You never could be. Your love was new and fresh every day and you felt alive when you were with him. Kurt bent down and his lips met yours in a sweet, gentle kiss. And it felt like the first time.
Imagine requested by @browncoatforever
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