A Steve Rogers x fem!reader fic where the reader has powers kind of like rogues, so they can't touch anyone without harming them. Then they accidentally touch Steve without gloves on, which results in the reader spiralling and sobbing as Bruce stabilises Steve in the medbay. Once Steve wakes up and is healed, the reader feels nothing but guilt and continues to apologise over and over, as Steve tries to show her he's okay and it's not her fault. Thank you!!
kiss me and i might drop dead
pairing: steve rogers x rogue!mutant!reader
summary: request above!
word count: 3.2k (who am i?)
content warnings: heavy angst, steve is a sweetie pie, ready is self destructive but also a sweetie pie. they’re so soft for one another your honour. near death experiences, big brother bucky mention! not proofread!
author’s note: hi angel! ty for this request, genuinely got so sucked in writing this, i was obsessed! i hope you like it <3
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
Loneliness has become a familiar acquaintance in your everyday life.
People thrive on human connection, on touch, on comfort. Things that were forcefully stripped away from you before you even had the chance to fully conceptualise them.
Nobody tells you just how hard it is to want. To crave the feeling of the warmth of someone’s skin on your own until you realise you’ll never be able to feel it again.
Its cruel fate that you’re also subsequently half in love with a Blonde Super soldier, who’s nothing short of a gentleman.
You can’t keep your mind from fantasizing about what it would be like to have him wrap you up in his arms, to feel his warmth seep into your bones as you rest your head on his bare chest.
That’s part of the reason you let your guard down.
Steve is everything you’ve ever dreamed of, the perfect gentleman, kind, funny, intelligent, and witty enough to make you smile even in the worst of times.
It was only a matter of time before he’d managed to worm his way into your heart.
Thoughtful gestures such as holding the door open for you or offering you the last bite of a snack he knew you liked.
Things that make you start to think that maybe there’s a way this all works out. A world where maybe you couldn’t touch Steve skin to skin but still love each other despite all material barriers.
˚₊‧꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
A knock resounds on your door whilst you’re laying on your bed, and with a confused frown you stumble your way to answer it.
Steve stands outside your door with a humble smile, shy and boyish charm that makes your heart do flips in your chest.
“Steve,” you greet softly with a warm smile. The blonde seemingly lights up at the sight of you, something so puppy-ish about his demeanour that your smile widens at the thought.
“Hey!” he cheers, swaying slightly back and forth on his toes as he looks down at you.
“I was uh—in the area and wanted to know if you were interested in taking a walk? Or um, or uh getting a bite to eat?” He stammers awkwardly, none of the suave confidence you’ve seen him display when out in the field present.
Your tummy is swirling with butterflies, “Yeah,” you agree without a second thought. “I’d like that.”
Steve’s answering smile is blinding, “Great! That’s uh, great. I’ll um wait out here while you get ready?” he offers.
You frown, shaking your head scoldingly, “No. Just come in, I wont even be 10 minutes.” You promise.
Steve softens, nodding as he steps into your apartment. He surveys the area with a reserved expression, and you wish you were able to know what he was thinking. Did he like it? Did he think the colour scheme was too boring? Was it too modern for his taste? What did his own accommodations look like?
Your mind is plagued with endless questions as you pull on an outfit, if you had known Steve would be coming around you’d probably have picked something more flattering than your current choices.
Alas, you were stuck pulling on an old sweatshirt you’d stolen from Logan and a pair of jeans.
With a quick check in on your hair, you’re out the door with time to spare and able to catch Steve surveying your neighbourhood through your windows.
“Enjoying the view?” you remark, grabbing your keys and unconsciously startling Steve from his daydream.
“Sorry,” he flushes, turning the sweetest shade of pink. You wave off his apology, motioning for him to get going.
As you step into the streets, you turn to look at Steve, “Where are we going?” you ask happily, practically skipping next to him.
Steve smiles down at you, cheeks still slightly pink from earlier as he answers, “There’s a new coffee shop a couple of blocks from here that Bucky said he really liked.”
You hum in acknowledgment, “Sound’s good.”
You both walk in comfortable silence, Steve slips on a basketball cap when you start to reach the more populated areas but it’s enjoyable, nonetheless.
“So,” you break the silence. “What brought you to my neck of the woods?”
Steve makes a panicked sound which has you turning to look at him perplexed.
He looks like he’s just swallowed something sour, “I uh, surveillance.” He nods quickly.
“Surveillance, I was in the area because Tony said he’d heard whispers of a HYDRA regrouping” he mumbles softly, out or range for the people walking past you to hear but loud enough to for you to understand.
You nod, “Oh, I hadn’t heard anything. Do you think they’re planning something?” you question, concerned.
Steve’s jaw tightens before sighing, “We don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “It’s just recon for now, until we have enough information to set up an actual plan.”
You hum, opening your mouth to ask another question before Steve nods in acknowledgement to the coffee shop across from the two of you.
It’s quaint and quiet, two things you’ve grown quite fond of recently after too much time spent doing PR damage control with the team.
“This is really good,” you say in surprise, taking another long sip of your cappuccino.
Steve smiles behind his mug, his gaze fond. “What? You thought I’d take you out for bad coffee? You trust me that little?” He asks, acting scandalised.
You giggle, shaking your head, “Forgive me, Oh Dear Captain. If memory serves me well, coffee back in your day used to resemble brown sludge did it not?” you mockingly pout.
Steve’s laugh is loud enough to have a few patrons turn your way and you fight the urge to sink in your seat.
He looks lovely when he laughs.
“I’ll have you know that it was called ‘The Great Depression’ for a reason—”
You snort, “I’d be depressed too if I had to eat the slop you guys called food too.”
Steve reaches over to push your shoulder in jest.
The gesture has you inhaling sharply, your nerves set alight.
The touch is over your jacket; there’s no possible harm that could be done. Only that you’re now inconceivably mournful.
You want him to be able to touch you, you want so badly to stop worrying about all the potential consequences for just one ignorant second.
“Oh,” he flusters. “I uh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—”
You shake your head hastily, “No! no, no its okay!” you rush to reassure him.
“I’m just—”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“I wanted you to!’ you burst out.
Steve stops, stunned. “You—you were okay with it?” he double-checks.
You sigh softly, clenching your eyes closed in embarrassment, “Yes.” You agree softly, opening your eyes hesitantly.
“Look Steve,” you start wearily. “I really like you, like, a lot. I know I’m probably not what you pictured when you pictured your ‘perfect’ girl but I uh—I’d really like to give this a shot, I mean—if you want to of course. I totally understand if you don’t see me that way and I’d be perfectly fine staying friends, well—”
“You’re wrong.” Steve interjects, looking simultaneously excited and hopeful.
You make a confused sound.
“You’re exactly as I dreamt you.”
Your expression softens, forcing yourself not to launch yourself out of your chair and into his arms.
Instead, you both share a small smile, sipping your coffees without further comment.
˚₊‧꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Things change past that, time that used to be dedicated alone time becomes ‘Steve & I’ time.
Tasks that would usually only require one person, turn into two person jobs with the two of you around.
Dishes in the sink, “You wash, I dry?” Steve offers.
Report writing? “I’ll just go over her section to check for any missing information.”
“Steve you weren’t ever there—”
It’s beyond easy to start believing that it’s always been this way. That, of course, you and Steve were meant to exist within one another’s orbits.
The team grows used to it soon enough, actually finding it quite useful.
Whenever one of them needs to find either one of you, it’s expected for the other to be with them.
Simultaneously, if they ever had to find you, it was assumed that Steve was probably the one to know where you were, and vice versa.
It’s therefore also no surprise that during movie night, the loveseat is set purposefully empty for you and Steve to snuggle into.
You’re soft and unguarded under the bright lights of the screen, Steve can’t help but not look away.
He doesn’t care much about the film anyway, some poorly made WW2 remake that had Steve rolling his eyes before the first 5 minutes were up.
Though he’d shut up and take it if it meant he could spend the next couple of hours watching you giggle and gasp and burrow further into his chest every time something scares you.
It’s because you’re so invested that you don’t notice your glove slipping until it’s too late. Steve must be moving to grab more of the popcorn on your lap when your wrists make contact.
The feeling of his warm flesh on your own is enough to send and ice cold rush over your body, nausea rising through your system as you hear Steve’s sharp inhale that turns into a garbled whine of pain.
Your heart drops and your gaze snaps to your wrist in building horror. “No,” you state in horror, disrupting the silence of the film.
“Steve?” you whisper horrified, turning frantically to see the man in a deathly pale shade, as he jerks in your seat.
“What?” You hear Natasha murmur in the room, the lights switching on and sending your senses into overdrive.
It’s like you can feel the serum running through your veins, only instead of it making you feel stronger, you feel as small and vulnerable as you’ve ever been.
“No no no,” you whine out helplessly, standing up and hovering your hands over Steve’s shaking form.
“Help,” you plead, tears rolling down your cheeks in thick streams as your hands shake in front of you.
“I didn’t mean to—I can’t—I can’t lose him, please you have to do something! Please Bruce—Tony, someone please!” you sob, curling into yourself as the team watches the scene in growing horror.
The sound of your sobs must tear through some of the shock because before you know it, there’s movement.
Bruce instructing Bucky to carry down Steve to the Med-Bay, Tony asking Friday to alert Doctor Cho and the team as he scurries after Bruce and Bucky, both still holding a limp Steve as static surrounds you.
You can’t unsee the sight of Steve, pale and unconscious by your own hand. The feeling of his life force slipping away from him and into you.
Your sobs wrack through your body, you knew it was a bad idea. You knew you should have never let him in.
Natasha and Clint stay with you, trying to talk to you and calm you down. But the fact that they don’t attempt to get closer to you is enough to have you shrinking further into yourself.
˚₊‧꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You don’t remember how long you spent on the common room floor, crying and sniffling whenever you thought of Steve.
You could hear FRIDAY providing updates about Steve’s condition, that he was in surgery, that it was going okay, that head flatlined but they had managed to stabilise him.
Flatlined. Flatlined. Flatlined.
He died, he’d died out on that operating table because of you.
It was all your fault.
“No, it’s not,” you hear a voice firmly state, knocking you out of your own thoughts.
Bucky’s at your door, watching you in dual patience and sympathy.
“It’s not your fault.” He reiterates.
“I could have killed him.” You whisper hoarsely, looking at him from across the room.
You haven’t moved in days, still in your old clothes from when you’d nearly lost Steve, curled up in the corner of your room on the floor, knees huddled to your chest.
“But you didn’t.” Bucky states firmly, you shake your head vehemently, tears pricking at your eyes as you tuck your head into your knees with a sniffle.
There’s a shuffle of sound before footsteps pad closer to you, sending you scrambling further into the corner.
“No!” you lash out harshly, your face twisted into a horrified scowl as Bucky steps closer.
“Don’t come any—”
“You’re not going to hurt me Ляля.” Bucky affirms, sitting down in front of you. Close enough that if you leant forward you could touch him.
“You don’t know that, I thought I would never hurt him but look at what—”
“Do you think I’m a killer?” Bucky interrupts your spiel.
You shake your head instantly, disagreeing.
“Why not?” He prompts, “I could have killed Steve in that helicarrier—I almost did. I have killed countless amounts of people, you still don’t think I’m a killer?”
You frown, “That’s different, you were being controlled—”
“I couldn’t control my actions, yes?”
You scowl, “It’s not that same.”
Bucky shrugs, his lips upticking slightly, “Seems very similar to me.”
“No,” you refute. “I should have double-checked my glove. I could have sat on another seat; I should have told Steve no when he asked me to go to that stupid coffee shop—”
“You’d both be miserable.” Bucky points out.
“But Steve would be safe.” You grit out.
Bucky sighs, looking fond and sympathetic, “You can’t be perfect at everything kid. Look, Steve’s okay. You’re okay. He knows you didn’t mean it, if anything he’s more worried about you than his own recovery—you know why? Because he loves you.” Bucky says softly, tsking when you open your mouth to protest.
“Take it up with him later. What I’m trying to say is, you make each other better. He knows that. Deep down, you know that. Don’t ruin this for yourself.”
With that, he groans and stands up, walking towards the door without looking back.
“He asked for you; your name was the first thing he said when he woke up. Thought you should know.”
You spend a long time staring at your door when he closes it.
˚₊‧꒰ა ✦ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
It takes you three days to work up the nerve to go down to the Med-Bay to see Steve.
You promise yourself that when you see him, you’ll be in a fresh set of clothes, freshly showered and have brushed your teeth.
You refuse to make him worry.
You hear bits and pieces about him from the team. You still retain his super hearing for the time being so it’s easy enough to tune into the team’s conversations, unbeknownst to them all.
“Steve’s getting stir crazy, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to keep him down there much longer.” Tony mentions to the others, in the kitchen you believe?
“Yeah well he’s still sitting on about 75% of his usual healing rate, he’s gotta get comfy.” Natasha snips and you can hear the fond exasperation in your town.
Your gut clenches in despair, he’s still not completely healed.
He would have been healed by now if it wasn’t for you.
“And her? What did she say when you visited her?” Tony asks wearily.
You hear Bucky sigh and the sound of a small thump, “She’s…dealing.” He admits and you fight the urge to scowl in defensiveness; he has no right to be talking about you like you’re the victim.
“It really took a toll on her; she lashed out when I tried to come closer to her.”
There’s silence amongst the other voices.
“What do we do?” Clint asks, sounding regretful and hopeful at the same time.
“Give her space. Let her go at her own pace, forcing her is only going to drive her further away.” Bucky murmurs.
The conversation tapers off pretty much after that, which gives you enough time to sort through your own feelings.
When you make the walk down to the Med-Bay you make sure to let FRIDAY know that you don’t want anyone seeing you.
You need to do this, but if someone sees you, you’re afraid you might just chicken out.
You’re covered up everywhere, there was no way in hell that you’d ever run the chance of hurting Steve in any capacity.
Your breathing is laboured when the Med-Bay doors slide open, the sight of Steve in SHIELD issued sweats, hooked up to multiple machines is enough to have you feeling faint.
When you think you might just turn around a bolt to the door, his head snaps up with shock, a small smile gracing his features as he lays down the sketchbook he’d been doodling in.
“Hey,” he greets warmly, albeit a bit shy.
Your mouth warbles as you try to speak, but snap your jaw shut.
“Are you—okay?” Steve asks, frowning softly.
You try to smile, to do anything to show him that you’re fine. That he shouldn’t worry about you.
“I’m sorry.” Is what comes out instead.
It’s a whisper, loud enough to carry over the static of the hospital room.
Steve’s eyes flash with hurt and protectiveness, “It’s not your—”
He stops.
You’re shaking, he realises.
Sobbing in fact, tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets as you wrap your arms around yourself in comfort.
“Hey—” Steve says panicked.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper in grief, every word wrung out from you like they’ve been lead stones in your chest.
Steve wants so badly to leap out of this godforsaken bed and to tug you into his arms, but he can’t so he just makes a pitiful whining sound that has you snapping your attention to him.
“Stop apologising,” he pleads, voice soft.
“I’m okay—look, Bruce said I’ll be alright to leave in a couple of days. Good as new.” He affirms cheerfully.
“You flatlined.” You state, avoiding eye contact with the blonde. “I heard FRIDAY tell everyone.”
Steve tries poorly to conceal his wince of regret.
“Well, okay. that’s not optimal but I’m fine now—”
“I could have killed you Steve!” you roar out, your voice shattering the silence of the room.
“I could have killed you,” you reiterate, regret and self-hate coating your words like acid.
“But you didn’t! okay?” Steve argues back.
“I’m fine. Honey, I’m going to be fine. I know it scared you, and knowing you, you’ve probably spent this entire week isolating yourself. Please, I don’t want to lose you because of this. I refuse to lose you because of this. Baby I—I love you alright?” He pleads, barrelling forward despite your slacked jaw.
“You remember that conversation in the coffee shop? Where I told you that you’re my perfect girl? This changes none of that. You’re still my best girl alright? You’re still the girl I want to wake up next to, the girl I think about whenever I’m alone, the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Don’t throw us away, please.”
There’s silence that follows Steve’s speech
Your voice is shaky and thick with tears when you respond, “God, you really know how to bring a girl to tears Captain Rogers.” You tease.
Steve softens, holding out his hand and ushering you closer and with only a small doubt of hesitancy, do you shuffle forward.
When you’re in close enough range, Steve pulls you into his arms, hugging you tight enough for you to know that he’s regained some of his strength.
“I missed you so much,” he murmurs into your jacket.
Characters & Pairings: Johnny Storm x X-Men/Mutant!reader
Content Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talks of discrimination towards mutants, unintentional child death, PSTD and the Genosha Massacre from X-Men '97, talks of trauma and healing, speculation for Avengers:DD, suggestive content and contains soft!smut (p in v unprotected sex, implied F receiving oral) MDNI | sunshine!johnny x grumpy!reader, no physical descriptions or use of Y/n, | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 13.1k (holy shit look at me back on my long fic grind--kid you not this took me a whole ass month to write.)
Premise: The story of a King whose touch turned to gold hit close to home for a member of the esteemed X-Men. Johnny Storm radiated gold from the color of his hair to the color of his supernova flames. When universes collide and the threat of a multiversal being brings three teams from across the cosmos together, Johnny learns the true meaning behind, 'The Midas Touch.'
Note: before the MCU, the Fantastic Four & Fox X-Men movies were on repeat for me and I recently watched X-Men 97 and immediately had the idea of Johnny with a mutant reader who has powers like Colossus except she turns to gold, and then remembered the story of King Midas and thought, 'This, this could be something.' Also, I'm obsessed with Marvel Rivals and think Johnny would be head over heels for a tank/vanguard hero who could easily bring him to his knees 😏😏 ALSO! I haven't written smut IN YEARS so bear with me--I tend to just do suggestive/implied sex, but this man has me attempting something I've never done before I apologize if it sucks.
additional note: this brings elements from the Fox X-Men Universe, X-Men '97 (referencing episode 5) & the comic storyline of Casandra Nova's attack on Genosha.
Also I'm keeping the damn spelling and grammatical errors in if I didn't already catch them so y'all know first hand that I WRITE ALL MY FICS WITH MY OWN TIME, ENERGY, AND IMAGINATION!! I DO NOT USE AI AND I NEVER FUCKING WILL BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, IF YOU USE AI TO GENERATE/WRITE YOUR FICS YOU'RE NOT A WRITER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!
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On the periodic table, 79 represents the atomic number for the chemical element gold. Notable for its reddish-yellow metallic color, compared to that of silver, platinum, and titanium, gold has driven humanity through wars, trades, and alliances over history for thousands of years. Starting from the prehistoric age to modern day.
Gold also has embedded itself in myths and legends. A symbol of perfection. A token of riches. Just look at the legend of El Dorado, a city constructed purely of gold. And in some cultures, it is viewed as a sign of immortality and power.
In ancient Greece, there is a story of a King named Midas, who loved gold so much that when the God Dionysus offered a gift in reward for his generous hospitality of his foster father, Midas requested the power of making anything he touched turn to gold. At first, he was elated, however, that soon shifted to regret and disdain.
For everything he touched, including his own daughter, turned to gold.
And for a certain human mutant, member of the X-Men, and current ally of Earth-616’s Avengers, she both loved and hated the story of King Midas.
Loved because she related to the gold king and hated because she was the gold king. Literally. And it didn’t help when the media dubbed her Midas as her superhero alias following her debut in the renowned team of mutants, the X-Men. Although to many critics across the globe of her home world, calling a hero was a far cry to the reality her abilities made her out to be. If anything, she was a danger to the average human, even if not intentional.
“I wish I knew you when it happened,” Johnny’s breath fawned against her skin, warming it against the cool air as they laid in bed basking in the afterglow of recent activities. His head tucked in the space between her neck and shoulder while one of her hands carded through his hair and the other stroked the length of his shirtless back. One of his arms secured over her waist, hand settled on her hip where it fiddled with the hem of her silver silked robe. One of the many gifts from him that left her amused.
All things considered.
“I would’ve been there for you,” pausing, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I would’ve raised hell against those people for what they did to you.” Another kiss to her shoulder, voice dropping an octave as the emotion seeped out of him. “I hate that you went through that alone.”
Closing her eyes, she focused on the feeling of his breath on her skin, the softness of his hair against her fingers, the tense muscles of his back she worked to smooth. Willing the painful memories to remain at surface level and not consume her entire being. “Unfortunately, my experience is not uncommon for mutants in my world,” she sighed, trailing her hand to the nape of his neck as his hand gripped her hip. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s something I’ve had to accept the hard way, but….” her voice was steady, yet carried the weight of each word. “You learn with time.”
“That doesn’t excuse their shitty behavior.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed, leaning an inch to kiss his hairline to calm him down. He always got worked up when talking about the subject. Evident by the rise in temperature on his back. “But it does explain why my kind has had to deal with those kinds of people since scientists first discovered our gene.” For anyone who knew the woman and her past, her words were a far change from the perspective she had on humanity years prior. She’d come a long way from the angered teenager and young adult who simply upheld Xavier’s dream to self-serve her safety rather than play into it on her own devices.
Who was she kidding? It was the man in her arms responsible for her new outlook on life.
Despite coming from different universes, it didn’t matter how many times they’ve had the same conversation, Johnny always felt a deep heaviness when thinking about her past. The origin of her mutation that brought her to the X-Men and eventually to him.
At age eleven, her golden touch mutant gene unveiled in an unfortunate circumstance involving a childhood bully on a school trip to a water park. The bully, a rich boy with an eye for mischief and need for torment, dragged the girl to the top of a tower the dive board was after hearing she had a fear of heights and the deep end of the massive Olympic-sized pool. Several of their classmates, his friends, egged him on and laughed at the tears streaming down her face. She thrashed and pulled against his hold as he got her to the top and maneuvered her so her back was toward the end of the board. The ten foot drop ahead leading to 20 feet deep waters below.
It all happened so fast, no one could’ve predicted that when her fear morphed to anger, and her hands gripped his shoulders, that melted gold would pour from her eye sockets, leaving no trace of her pupils and consuming her entire body until it slipped through her fingertips to spread along every inch of his skin. Until a living boy no longer stood in his place…but a golden statue frozen in time.
And when she let go of him, her pupils returned, as did the rest of her body. But he did not. Altering the life as she knew it into something she never could have imagined.
She didn’t know she’d be a mutant. No one did. Like every other mutant in existence, the gene surfaced in response to stress and trauma. All she wanted was to pry him off her. However the reality was clear as day. She’d been born with the X-Gene, granting her the ability to transform her body into pure solid gold that gave her superhuman strength and durability, in addition to turning everything she touched into the mental substance.
And in the discovery, took the life of a child.
The aftermath of what occurred that fateful spring day had been catastrophic. She became a target of media outlets across the globe. News stations broadcasted the story on repeat. Journals and newspapers ran press 24/7. Then because of the mere fact that objects she touched turned to pure solid gold, it didn’t take long for people to attempt to get their hands on the few things she managed to transform in the short time following the incident.
A big thanks to certified metallurgists for confirming the gold she produced was in fact real gold.
Clothes, her shoes. The beach towel, the bench she sat on. Hell, even the diving board the water park cut down once they removed the golden boy’s body, was sought by greedy men and auctioneers.
At lightning speed she became a liability. Her safety was threatened by those who saw her as a gold producing mine, and not the eleven year old girl carrying a trauma no other person could understand.
On top of it all, her family was ostracized--her father losing his job and mother facing scrutiny from their peers. For they did not want to be associated with someone whose child committed an unthinkable act. The family of the boy demanded justice for their son, as the young girl could not reverse the effects of her power. Screaming things like, “Send her to the Vault!” and “Our son deserved to live and not die the way he did by the hands of a mutant!!”
Mutant. They hissed and spat as though the word was cursed.
She felt cursed. Mind straying to the story of King Midas and his golden touch he came to view as a misfortune. To her, her powers fell under the same category.
The family, as well as their supporters and haters of mutants, believed the act was intentional. That she chose to turn him into gold. Disregarding that she too, was a child, and was put in a place of immense stress. They chose to ignore the detail that the boy intended to push her off the diving board into the pool despite her objections. Witnesses to the event made statements, they included the facts, but the media pushed the narrative it was her fault.
Charles Xavier knew the truth. It was why he offered to take in the young mutant when the government went undecided on what to do with her. “I believe the best possible route for her is to remain with people like her,” he told them at the congressional hearing. “What good is a young mutant just discovering their abilities, if they are not with those who can relate and be the support system to help them control it. Rest assured, my staff and I will do everything possible to make sure what happened never occurs again.”
Despite their weariness and concerns, they agreed on the condition Xavier kept them informed on her progress. And so for the remainder of her childhood, well into her teenage years and ultimately into adulthood, she remained at the X-Mansion. Learning to control her abilities with the help of Professor X, Dr. Hank McCoy, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Logan Howlett, and Ororo Munroe.
It took time, but eventually turning an object she touched into gold happened by her own will and not automatically like when her powers first emerged. In the beginning her body transforming into its golden form often happened during moments of stress and fear. Uncontrollable at first, but soon with the help of her fellow X-Men mentors—including the organic steel transforming mutant Colossus, she learned to bring forth the metal form upon her own command.
Scott, Logan, and Ororo focused her training on hand-to-hand combat on an offense approach for when it came time to be in the field. They taught her to fight. How to go by an attack and to catch the enemy off guard. “Listen, Goldilocks,” Logan would say with a cigar attached to his lips, smoke in the air, “just because you’ve got a mean swing when you go metal doesn’t mean you only rely on your fists. Anything you grab can become a wicked fastball to throw the enemy off from a distance.”
Jean and Professor X, on the other hand, prioritized her wellbeing. Using a defensive tactic, they taught her how to control her powers so they may not risk hurting innocent people. As for Hank, he used his genius mind to study her powers and report progress. Not to mention creating an entire wardrobe for her when she first moved in that wouldn’t turn to gold when she put them on. And once she got the green light from Scott and Charles, Hank designed her signature X-Men suit consisting of black and yellow with a plated red belt.
Hence, the X-Men Midas was born.
Together with her fellow mutants, Midas battled Sentinels, the Friends of Humanity, Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants as well as Apocalypse and his Horsemen. She narrowly survived the destruction of Genosha, lost more friends than she could count, and dealt with the repercussions of her past daily.
It’s no wonder she built a wall around her heart. Thick like a block of 24 karat gold. And why she carried a boatload of anger everywhere she went. Often complaining about humans who put their lives at risk that they have to save and get no appreciation for. Keeping her thoughts and opinions of Magneto and Charles to herself, because if she were being honest, part of her understood Magneto’s mindset.
With each passing year, and each attempt on her life, Midas felt that anger grow. She did well of masking it, but there was a reason she didn’t bother with human-mutant relations like Xavier, Scott, and Jean. Why she trusted no one other than the X-Men. Who in the universe could relate to all she went through?
Johnny Storm loved gold. Gold jewelry, gold accessories. Gold paint on walls and detailing. He was even dubbed America’s golden boy by media outlets after he and his family got their powers from their space exploration trip gone awry. Blonde hair, sun-kissed skin, flames of bright orange and yellow. He was golden.
But when the Fantastic Four raced to save Franklin from the malicious Dr. Doom, trailing him across the multiverse until they reached Earth-616, the man made of fire met his match with the woman made of gold.
He probably should’ve predicted it. After all, he did get the hots for a silver surfing alien four years prior. Least to say, the moment his eyes laid on the golden goddess before him, he was captivated.
Now, let’s be real, they say first impressions mean everything and theirs was unlike anything they could’ve imagined. Having allied themselves with the Avengers—new and old, depending on who asks--the last thing on the Fantastic Four’s mind was running into more enhanced heroes pulled into the sacred timeline. And it was all thanks to Reed’s multiversal tracking device.
“I’m picking up a signal in the East Canadian region,” he announced, “A cluster of points not far from the border. Their readings suggest,” the area between his brows pinched, “that they're not from here.” It was his glance upward to look at Sue, worry in his gaze before flickering to Sam. “Like us.”
There was no hesitation from the Captain, “Let’s go.”
The team responding to the signal consisted of Johnny, Ben, Reed, Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, Ava, and Walker. Sue stayed behind with the others, tracking Doom and stressing to pinpoint where he took Franklin.
“Two miles out,” came Ben’s voice from the cockpit, causing Johnny to look away from his tablet to glance out the window, spotting a remote location in the middle of nowhere. Appearing to be an abandoned warehouse near a lake surrounded by the woods. “Doesn’t look like much if I’m being honest. Reed, you sure this is it?”
“Positive,” the genius replied, checking the coordinates before coming up beside the rocked man. “The multiversal energy levels coming from here are staggering.”
“Well, whoever you’re picking up is obviously hiding.”
Johnny put the tablet down, leaning over Ben’s chair to see the view, resulting in his eyes to squint when he caught a dark blob in the distance. “What the hell is that?” Upon the words leaving his mouth, he felt the presence of Sam and Yelena approach beside him, the former’s gaze following Johnny’s where he ordered Ben to get closer.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Landing, the blob formed into the clear image of an unusual aircraft with little to no markings indicating who it might’ve belonged to. No flag, no insignia. Just sleek black metal with large engines that thinned towards the cockpit.
‘Weird,’ Johnny thought to himself as he stepped off the ramp of the Quinjet, scouting the area. What was an odd-looking jet doing in the middle of the Canadian woods? And where were the ones who put it there?
He’d find out soon enough.
The owners of the jet, in fact, were a group of multiversal travelers from another world. And where Johnny and his fellow Avengers got their powers through accidents and lab mishaps, this team of enhanced heroes were born with theirs. They were mutants.
While Johnny was occupied battling a guy with a Cajun accent and playing cards he made go boom, Reed got caught dealing with a blue teleporter and teeth sharp like vampire fangs. Then you had Sam and Joaquin fighting a man wearing a visor matching his bright blue and yellow suit. Yelena in a 1v1 with another blue individual, who nearly made her shit her pants when they shapeshifted into Natasha. Ava and Ben against, yet again, a blue man this time with fur all over his body. And finally, Walker engaged in a heated exchange with…a woman made of gold?
At first, she looked normal. And Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t do a double take when his eyes landed on her in the 30 seconds prior to the fight breaking out. Her black and bright yellow suit, similar to her peers, caught his immediate attention. As did the red plated belt barreling a distinct ‘X’, however, his focus shifted rather quickly by the sudden battle when neither side stood down and presented immediate threats to each other. But when Johnny managed to get the upper hand over the purple suited, pole swinging man, he caught the exact moment the mystery woman’s skin transformed.
Walker swung his shield, hoping to knock her off her feet, surprised she kept up with him in the first place, only for his eyes to widen in absolute astonishment upon her bare hands gripping the edge of the shield. But when his eyes landed on said hands…they reflected against the light in a golden shine.
“What the fu…” his voice echoed, causing Johnny to snap his head in their direction, where his own eyes grew in size as he watched in real time as the metal ran up her arms, encased her neck before swallowing her visage whole. Almost in slow motion, like an intense scene from a movie, the way the gold seemed to pour out of her like liquid until it solidified, turning her into a walking statue. No trace of whites or pupils in her eyes. The color of her hair molding into a sleek shape. The only remaining untouched was her suit.
Only it didn’t end there. Once the immediate shock barely wore off, it returned tenfold when they noticed the gold continued to pour from her fingertips. Walker’s shield transforming before their eyes.
“Oh shit!” The super soldier’s shout bounced off the walls, removing his hold off the object to take several steps back and see the last bit of red and black vanish. Before he could react, however, she launched forward, grabbed a hold of his neck, lifting him off the ground and sent him flying toward the wall, causing a loud groan to escape him. He got up, ready for the next attack, but Walker dropped to his knees in a haste as she spun 360 and flung the now pure gold shield in his direction. Embedding it into the brick wall with a rumbling crack that shook the foundation of the building, causing everyone to stop what they were doing. Freezing mid-battle.
“Well that’s not something you see every day,” Joaquin panted with a wince, having met the harsh ground moments prior from dodging an optic blast.
Everything slowed down. Sam and Scott talked on behalf of their teams, as did Reed, who explained they tracked the group by the trans-dimensional energy they produced. That’s where the Avengers and Fantastic Four officially learned the name of their new guests.
“We’re the X-Men.”
“Why the X,” Johnny asked before he could stop himself, noting the distinct X on all their suits, not just hers. Just like he and his family had the large 4 splattered across their chests.
“Because we carry the X-Gene,” the man they called Beast declared. And when he caught their confusion, he added with uncertainty of how their reaction was going to go. “Our powers come from a mutation in our DNA--a mutation we’re born with. In our world, we call it the X-Gene. Hence,” a blue hand motioned at his fellow mutants. “The X-Men.”
‘Fitting,’ Johnny thought, nodding to the man. “That’s cool.” The compliment didn’t really have its effect, as he heard the light scoff from the woman as well as some pinched expressions from the rest of them.
“Cool,” she repeated with distaste, like the word physically stung her. She then lifted her gaze from the floor to land on Johnny, who tilted his head perplexed by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “I take it neither in this world—nor yours as your friend,” she lifted a lazy finger at Reed, “has mentioned—have people like us?”
While Johnny shook his head, Sam answered along the same lines, “No, we do not.”
“So all of you,” a golden hand flickered at the crowd, specifically the ones with obvious powers as her voice rose an octave. “Got what makes you special by some flux. Freak accidents—lab experiments gone wrong—or just by the grace of some God?”
No one answered. The question itself rhetorical and able to answer itself by their expressions and shuffle of body language indicating they felt the unease flood the space. That was enough for her to scoff, louder this time, and click her tongue. Beside her the teleported, a man calling himself Kurt Wagner, gave her a knowing look.
“Wow,” she exasperated, arms crossed tight around her chest as she stood tall and guarded, clearly vexed by the silence. Though her eyes were still encapsulated by metal, it was obvious had her pupils been visible, they would’ve been narrowed into slits. “How nice you all must have it.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Midas,” Scott scolded the woman, who’d now shifted back to her normal physique and sent a scowl, stopping Johnny from asking the question on his mind as he processed the name Scott addressed her as.
“I’m just making an observation, Scott.”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“And?” she hissed, throwing her arms out in frustration. “So what if I am?”
Scott stepped closer to her, voice dropping like a stern father reprimanding his daughter. The others couldn’t hear what was said, but by the way she tensed up and glared at the man, they could only guess. As Scott stepped away, she simply huffed, crossing her arms back over her chest and pivoting so her side was facing the Avengers. Not wanting to look at them any longer.
Eventually, after much debate and deliberation from each side, the X-Men agreed to follow the Avengers and Fantastic Four to the WatchTower where they would continue the pursuit against Doom, who they linked was responsible for the mutants for dropping into Earth-616, much like the Four. It was unclear why Doom targeted the X-Men, but they were determined to find out.
Now joined together on a race against time to save Franklin Richards and the multiverse, the teams exhausted their resources from all angles. They spent time learning about each other, drawing strategy, splitting up on multiple coverts when they got a lead. Sure there were times where they butt heads--specifically Sam, Bucky, Reed, and Scott--but they worked well together. And most of them were welcoming toward one another.
Key word: most.
“So like….” Johnny shuffled on his feet, arms crossed as he stood beside Midas--ignoring Ben’s warning look--who mirrored his position, the two off to the side while the leaders of the teams paced around the middle of the lounge to discuss tactics. Except that while Johnny’s demeanor resembled his usual, suave self, she stood cold and reserved. “Is the name Midas in reference to--.”
“The King who could turn anything he touched into gold,” she cut him off with a deadpan tone while continuing to stare ahead. “Yes, it is.”
Johnny assessed her profile, giving a short nod. He didn’t compliment it, despite finding the name clever and interesting. Learning his lesson from earlier when he found the X-Men’s origin of powers cool. “And you can--.”
“Turn anything I want into gold. Including my whole body.”
“Does it feel weird when you do it?”
“Does it feel weird when you set yourself on fire?” Annoyance laced her tone, but Johnny didn’t falter.
“At first, yeah it’s sorta ticklish,” if he heard the way she breathed heavily though her nose, he chose to ignore it and continued, “Now it just feels part of me.” No response followed, but he did notice how her shoulders dropped slightly, face losing the pinched expression as though she understood the statement. “Is it like that for you?”
“Yes,” she finally said after a moment, but still refused to look at him.
There had to be some sort of irony in the fact Johnny Storm found yet another metallic woman insanely attractive that he wanted to get to know even though it was painfully obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted to melt down her cold, metal walls and discover the heart of gold she probably was hiding.
Holding back his smile, Johnny saw the shift in body language as his first step to victory. And he adjusted his own position, turning back to the scene in front of them.
If there was one thing Johnny Storm enjoyed, it was a challenge. He thrived in the adrenaline and thrill of succeeding and he saw that with Midas. ‘I’ll get through to her,’ was the final thought before he accepted his new mission. ‘I know I will.’
Hours later Johnny was walking back to his assigned room when his ears picked up on voices in the nearby corridor. Unable to ignore his curiosity, Johnny paused and headed toward the direction of the noise. Light on his feet, he pressed his back against the wall adjacent and listened closely.
“Look, I’m as clueless as you on how long this is going to last,” Scott drawled in a low voice to whoever he addressed. “It could be days, weeks, months--hell we might even be here for years. So whatever you have against them, Midas--,” Johnny stiffened at the reveal, rethinking his decision as he knew what he was doing was morally wrong, but the blonde couldn’t help himself. “You need to put it away. Otherwise you can sit this out.”
“I don’t have anything against them, Scott,” the lie fell flat that even Johnny caught it.
“And the sky is red,” Scott scoffed, “You’re fooling no one and we can’t afford to have any tension amongst ourselves with what’s to come. As far as I can see, we can trust them.”
“Did you already forget this morning?”
“That was a mutual attack on both sides. They were doing their job as protectors of this world--like us, Midas. If we were back home and the roles were reversed, we would’ve done the same.”
She huffed, clearly not impressed by the defense despite the man being right. “Forgive me for not jumping for joy at the idea of us working together. For Christ’s sake, Scott--mutants don’t exist here! How are we supposed to trust they won’t turn on us--or-or suddenly feel threatened by our existence and want us gone?”
Johnny heard the frustration combined with the underlying fear in her tone. As though the assumption was layered with experience, causing the blonde to frown. What exactly did she mean? That they’d be threatened by their existence--enough to want to betray them? In their world were super powered people not worshiped like he and his family were? From the sound of it, he suspected the reality was far from his own experience.
Suddenly it all made sense why she reacted angrily to his remark. And why the others looked uncomfortable.
“They’re not going to do that--.”
“You don’t know that, Scott!”
“It’s not sunshine and rainbows for them like you think--they’ve dealt with horrible things because of who they are and what they do.”
“I highly doubt they’ve had to fight machines built with the sole reason to exterminate them.”
The air around Johnny seemed to disappear, his breath hitching so fast he had to rush a hand to his mouth to stop the sound from escaping. His entire face consorting to absolute horror. Machines? Exterminate mutants? He couldn’t believe what he’d heard--unable to even picture what she was describing. Attempting so brought a chill down his spine, a rare feeling given his blood boiled like lava.
Barely processing the revelation, the shock continued as he listened to the conversation, thankful they had yet to discover he was there.
“Midas,” Scott’s sigh was full of tiredness, mixed with dejection. “I understand your anger, believe me, I do. You’ve gone through things not many mutants have or will ever experience. And after Genosha--.”
“Don’t,” she hissed, and Johnny picked up the tremor she held.
“You have every right to be,” Scott fought his own emotions, the memories of that fateful evening clear in his mind. “We all lost a piece of ourselves that day--some more than others.” Some meaning her. The period of darkness that swallowed her whole following the tragedy lasted months. “But this--this blame you’re unfairly putting on these people is not going to help you heal or benefit this team. I need to know that I can count on you.”
“You can,” her insistence sounded strained.
“Can I, Midas?”
There was a pause from the woman, and Johnny assumed the question was a slap in the face coming from the man she looked up to. “Scott, when have I ever let you down?” she finally found her voice, unable to hide the defeat, causing Johnny to feel a tightness in his chest. He waited with anticipation for Scott’s answer.
“You never have,” there was pride in the response, and Johnny pictured the visor wearing man offering a small smile despite their heated exchange still lingering.
“Exactly. I’ve never let you down. I didn’t with Apocalypse, I didn’t with Trask,” a slight pause before she finished, “and I didn’t after Genosha. So, I’ll do what I have to do, because our team,” the X-Men she was referring to. Johnny didn’t have to be a genius to get the implication. “Is what matters to me. I’ll put my…differences aside. But don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy and pretend we’re all best friends, alright?”
“I’m not asking you to be best friends, Midas,” Scott sighed, “But I am asking you to be civilized.”
“Fine,” she huffed like a full blown child. “I’ll be civilized. Have some fucking faith in me, Scott.” Letting out another sound that came off as a huff mixed with a grunt, Johnny heard her stomp away from Scott.
“Midas--!” He tried to stop her from leaving, but the golden mutant sped off in the opposite direction, her footsteps growing faint.
Johnny finally let out the breath he was holding, careful to muffle the sound as best he could as he processed all the information he discovered. Talk about bombshells dropped. Extermination machines? Genosha? What was Scott talking about, and why did it bring an unsettling pit to Johnny’s stomach. Part of him didn’t want to find out.
And just when he thought he could relax, he heard footsteps heading in his direction, Scott coming down the hall after failing to stop Midas. Panicked and with no way to escape without giving himself away, Johnny shuffled on his feet like a maniac and contemplated his options only to freeze when Scott turned the corner.
“Jesus,” a gloved hand clamped to his chest, heart racing with adrenaline as Johnny started to stutter, hands raised in defense and face flamed red from embarrassment and shame for getting caught red handed.
“I-I-I--.”
“Have you been there this whole time?”
Johnny swallowed thickly, offering a hesitant nod, “I promise--I didn’t intend to--I was-was heading to my room and I…overheard you two,” Johnny lowered his hands, expression apologetic as his own heart rate increased. “I’m sorry, Scott--I know it was wrong--.”
“Johnny, It’s okay,” Scott waved a hand to calm him down. “I’m not mad, you just caught me off guard.” Letting out an exhale, Scott lowered his hand and assessed the blonde. “What all did you--.”
“Enough to understand why I offended you guys early.”
“No, Johnny, you didn’t…” Scott tried to say, but gave up as the words fell flat. Clearly Johnny heard the climax of the argument between the two mutants, and there wasn’t anything Scott could say that would try to brush the tension off. So instead he followed it up with, “Midas is...I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“Scott, I should be the one apologizing--I’m the one who eavesdropped!”
The older man let out a low chuckle, “Well, we weren’t exactly being quiet. If it wasn’t you it was going to be someone else.”
“Still it was a private conversation, I should’ve kept walking…I was just--.”
“Curious?” Scott finished for him with a knowing smirk, causing Johnny’s face to redden once more as he sent a slow nod. Not bothering to deny the accusation. “I don’t blame you. But if I’m being honest, you’re lucky it was me who caught you and not Midas.”
“I take it she’d have kicked my ass?”
“More like she’d be tempted to turn you into gold,” Scott retorted with a clap to the blonde’s back, gently pushing him to start walking down the hallway. “Something she hasn’t done to a living person in years.” The emphasis brought a chill down Johnny’s spine. Realizing the extent of Midas’ powers go beyond what he initially thought. It wasn’t just her body she had the ability to transform, as well as objects, into gold.
She could do it to humans.
Johnny had so many questions on his mind, his expression unable to mask the interest that Scott saw right through and took it upon himself to explain to Johnny the depth of he and Midas’ conversation. Filling in the holes as to why she perceived the Avengers a certain way. Scott told him about the Sentinels--the machines created by Dr. Bolivar Trask to hunt down mutants, including his chief Master Mold. How the X-Men have been fighting the Sentinels for decades as they keep reemerging despite the superheroes defeating them time and time again.
Johnny had trouble swallowing that pill, only to feel the bile rise in his throat when Scott relayed the destruction of Genosha. “And she was there when it happened?” he whispered, voice cracking at the end as the emotion was too much to contain. How was one supposed to when they hear an entire island was wiped off the planet by wild machines programmed to exterminate a species.
“Midas never agreed with the forming of Genosha,” Scott explained, leaning his arms on the railing of the balcony the two stood on. “She had her opinions and thoughts. The country already had a dark history, and then you had Magneto rallying for it to be a mutant-only nation.” He paused slightly, feeling the familiar grief pool in his stomach. “When they asked for representatives for the X-Men to attend a gala after the U.N. formally recognized Genosha, I told her to go--even though I knew she didn’t want to.”
Johnny heard the regret in his voice. The sadness, the pain. It pooled out of him like lava from a volcano.
“I was supposed to be with them, but there was another commitment at the mansion they needed me for. I…” he let out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly, “nothing could’ve prepared us for what happened that day. Midas and Kurt were part of the lucky ones.”
The Human Torch walked away with a newfound respect for the golden mutant. As well as a deep found compassion for her and her fellow X-Men. They’d gone through unimaginable events. Survived inexplicable chaos. It’s no wonder Midas is distrusting of anyone who’s not like them.
As the days drew into weeks, Johnny thought about that day on the balcony. It appeared in his mind each time he got close to Midas. Whether that be the two standing next to each other or tasked together on expeditions with their teammates. And as the two interacted more, that curiosity in Midas turned into a full-blown crush that had the once most eligible bachelor in America acting like a teenage boy wanting to impress a girl for the first time.
Holding the elevator door open when he caught her heading toward it. Taking the open seat next to her in the conference room or simply shuffling over to the corner she’d taken claim to. He’d offer to get her coffee, or volunteer to join her when she’d go to the training rooms. And unbeknownst to Midas, Johnny picked up on cues that made him fall for her even more. Like how she stared out the windows of the WatchTower to watch the citizens below, holding back a smile when she saw a school bus full of kids peering up at the building in wonder. How she’d leave the last pastry for Gambit or Sue when she likely wanted it for herself. Sarcastic remarks under her breath that left Joaquin and Shuri stifling a giggle. Or the way she picked up after people’s trash when they were too distracted to notice.
But Johnny noticed. He saw everything. The softened features. The hidden interest. The mask she bore to protect her heart.
It was painfully obvious to everyone besides Midas that Johnny Storm was smitten with her. From the, “Good morning, Midas,” every day to, “I saved you a plate of Ben’s homemade ravioli,” there was no question about his feelings. Then there was the fact whenever she addressed him by a name other than his own--which was pretty much everyday--he’d blush like a schoolboy.
Flame. Torch. Hot-Head. Supernova. Star-Boy (his personal favorite). All spoken with sarcasm, but it did nothing to deter him.
Sue and Ben clocked it from the first day when Johnny strategically maneuvered himself to stand next to her during the first debrief as a conjoined team. Scott and Hank got their suspicions from Johnny’s lingering gazes when she entered a room, plus the many questions he had regarding her. Gambit and Kurt, her closest friends, made slick comments like, “I did not know you adopted a golden retriever puppy, mon ami,” or, “Schatz, you seem to be glowing brighter than the sun lately.”
For Midas, however, the behavior Johnny exhibited left her confused. And it didn’t help that she initially found the walking fire hazard annoying. Like a bug she was unable to swat away--or a stain too stubborn to be removed. His boyish charm and sharp wit combined with his constant flirtatious remarks paired with winks told her everything she needed about what he was like in his home universe.
A playboy, with an ego the size of a supernova.
“What’s your deal, Torch?” She finally confronted him after weeks of him following her like a shadow. Continuing his pursuit despite her jabs and attempts to shake him off.
“What do you mean?” He played dumb, leaning against the wall she shoved him into after she dragged his ass out of the lounge to get away from prying ears.
“The compliments? The winks--the suave lines you keep trying to pull on me,” her eyes narrowed, practically hissing the words out. “Why are you so determined to get a rise out of me?” She didn’t miss the way his expression, once playful, softened at the accusation.
“I’m not--I’m not trying to get a rise out of you, Midas.”
“Then why does it feel like you are!”
“I--I,” he stuttered, ears pink but thankfully the flush of his neck was hidden by the turtleneck of his suit. “Look, I promise I’m not trying to be an asshole or piss you off. I just…” The confession was on the tip of his tongue. Screaming at him to cave in and tell her what he’d been feeling the past couple weeks. And with the way she was staring at him, the fire he held ignited so deep he ended up blurting out, “Go out with me,” without thinking, earning a wide-eyed, gaping reaction.
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Well that certainly wasn’t the response he usually garnished, but there was no going back now.
“Far from it actually---although when this whole multiversal excursion started I did start to think so..”
She breathed hard through her nose, eyes closing as she focused on calming her heartrate, “There--there’s no way you’re serious--.”
“Is it so hard to believe I might have feelings for you, Midas?” Johnny offered a small smile, aware it was a lot for her to process and therefore he needed to be patient with her. After all, the confession came out of left field, at least from her point of view.
“Considering I’ve done nothing remotely warm and inviting to warrant this…” she waves a dramatic hand, “Affection…yeah, I am a little surprised.” Did he really observe her cold-hearted bitch behavior and think, ‘Damn, I want that,’ or was he breathing in one too many fossil fuels from the jet engines of the Excelsior and X-Jet?
Turns out, he did want that.
“Let me prove to you I’m serious.”
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” her hands rested on her hips, assessing him with a raised brow.
“Go on a date with me,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which in his eyes, it was.
“Johnny, we are in the middle of tracking a madman from your universe. I don’t see how we’re supposed to put a pause on that and go on a date.”
“We don’t. We wait until we beat Doom, and then we go on a date. Until then I flirt with you and you pretend you don’t enjoy it when secretly you find me irresistible and are just too prideful to admit it.” He finished with a grin, the complete opposite to her absolute stunned expression. “Simple as that.”
“Simple?” She repeated with an exaggerated tone, like she couldn’t process what he was saying despite the words being straight forward and not embedded with riddles. “We are way past simple with everything you just said.” The fact she didn’t deny his claim of finding him irresistible was telling, but Johnny didn’t comment on it.
She was about to turn on her heel and leave him right there in the hallway when he stopped her. “Then how about this,” he gently offered, bringing her attention back to him with a light touch to her forearm. “My prediction after we defeat Doom--which we will--they’re obviously going to plan some kind of celebration to honor us for our achievement.”
He was met with a slow nod and roll of the eyes, indicating she knew where he was heading, “Your point?”
Johnny’s grin burned brighter. Teeth flashing as he mentally applauded himself for succeeding in the goal he set out weeks prior that started with an annoyed huff and eyeroll. He finally melted those golden walls.
“What do you say about being my date to our expected ‘Congrats on defeating Dr. Doom and saving the multiverse,’ celebratory gala?”
~~~~~~~~~~
The ability to breath completely vanished the moment Johnny laid eyes on Midas as she descended the spiral staircase alongside Ava, donned in a mesmerizing gold dress sparkling like a million stars in the galaxy. Tight around her chest, which was accented by the deep neckline trailing her sternum, it had long sleeves and flowed out as it went down past her knees, paired with matching heels. Her hair was styled and her makeup was simple yet elegant. Little to no jewelry save for some stud earrings and a few rings on her fingers.
“Yo, Matchstick, you good there?” Ben nudged the blonde when he suddenly stomped rambling, following his gaze to which the rocked hero uttered, “Oh.” The rest of the group the two were huddled with by the bar, Walker, Joaquin, and M’baku, all started chuckling at the lovesick expression on Johnny’s face.
“Did it suddenly get hot in here?”
“Yeah,” Walker mused, “It does feel a bit warm now that I think about it.”
“Hey, Johnny, think you can tone down the heat? I’m sweating through my suit.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure buddy,” Johnny waved off, downing the remaining of his glass before pushing it into Ben’s hand and hurrying toward the bar where she stood. Bypassing Sue and Shuri, the former giving him an odd look reading, ‘What the hell?’ which quickly shifted to understanding when she caught Midas at the bar.
“Finally,” she muttered with a pleased smile around the rim of her glass, but not before clicking in with Shuri’s, who mirrored her expression.
At the bar and unaware of the hot-headed blonde speeding toward her, Midas greeted the bartender and gave off her order, “Hendricks gin martini, extra dirty with three olives please.”
“Coming right up.”
Thanking him, she leaned her forearms onto the smooth white quartz bar top and scanned her surroundings. It was a stellar sight to behold, the WatchTower loft lounge decorated with fairy lights and chandeliers. Packed to the brim with superheroes, family members, and politicians. Everywhere she looked she saw people engaging in conversation over cocktails and finger foods. The DJ, booked by Alexei, had his own booth near the makeshift dancefloor where Gambit, Kurt, and Shang-Chi had already taken claim to.
“You know, I always gravitated toward silver,” the teasing voice brought her out of her thoughts, heart skipping a beat as she turned to be greeted with the charming smile that was Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm. “Thought it brought out my eyes more. But I have to say…” said sapphire eyes traveled down the length of her figure unapologetically, “there’s just something so bewitching about gold when it hits the light.”
Straightening her posture as she faced him, Midas controlled her expression from showing that his words did in fact affect her. Heat flaring her body like the sun on a summer day. “Well don’t you clean up nice, Star-Boy.”
Johnny’s hand went to the collar of his suit blazer, adjusting it while never straying his gaze, “I can say the same ‘bout you, Midas. Was gold always your color before your mutation surfaced?”
“Considering I was eleven years old when it surfaced, I doubt it.”
When the bartender placed her drink down, Johnny quickly went, “Bulliet, neat my friend,” and the bartender quickly went to work, leaving the two.
“Didn’t pay you to be a bourbon guy,” she observed nonchalantly.
“What did you pay me to be?”
“On the line of a basic vodka soda,” Johnny made a sound of offense, grin widening as he thanked the bartender and accepted the glass. Her own lips curled up, eyes drawing with curiosity as she watched him lift his glass toward her and gently tapped them together. “We toasting or something?”
“Yes we are,” they both raised their drinks to take a sip, not wincing at all when the burn of the alcohol hit the back of their throats. “You owe me a date.”
“Is that so?” she mused, maintaining the intense eye contact he refused to break. “Please remind me where I agreed to that.”
“When I asked you to accompany me to this,” he motioned to their surroundings. “I initially asked that after we defeated Doom--which we have successfully done--we’d go on a proper date. I’ve kept up my promise of charming you every chance I get,” he winked, “and you’ve kept up pretending it doesn’t phase you. But let’s be real, we both know you secretly find me irresistible.” She scoffed lightly paired with a light roll of the eyes which only amused Johnny. “Am I wrong?”
Quiet for a moment as she sipped her martini, Midas pivoted on her heel to press her back against the counter of the bar. Breaking away from his gaze to glance out to the center of the gala. “I will neither agree nor disagree to that assumption, Storm.”
Johnny went to speak, but was interrupted by none other than the Cajun card master himself, cocktail in hand “well well well, looks like Rogue and I are not the only ones fashionably late to this fais do-do.”
Midas lowered her martini, letting out an amused scoff, “please, I was only ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes is enough to think you were skipping out on us tonight, mon ami. Ain’t that right, Johnny Boy?”
Johnny sipped his drink, lips curling in a smirk as he answered, “Oh I was confident our dear Midas would show.” His eyes flickered between the two, before settling on the woman. “After all, she never breaks her word.”
“No, Midas does not,” Gambit mused, proudly clapping Johnny on the shoulder. Understanding the context of Johnny’s words paired with his smug smile. “Well then, I’ll leave you two to it. Better find my other half before the Sazerac starts flowing too strong.” Raising a hand in salute, Gambit went on his way, “Laissez les bon temps rouler.”
“Bye, Remy,” Midas rolled her eyes, albeit playfully as she raised her glass back to her lips, watching him leave to find Scott and Kurt to mess with.
Downing the rest of his glass, Johnny placed it on the bar top and stepped beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Dance with me.” A semi-slow song began to play, the mutant recognizing it as an old favorite of hers. Before she could refuse, Johnny grabbed her martini to sit on the bar top and guided her toward the dancefloor, where he positioned them with one hand on her mid back and the other interlacing their fingers.
She rested her freehand on his shoulder, aware of the drawn gazes they gathered from their fellow teammates, some of whom sent the mutant a cheeky grin and thumbs up. She ignored it for the first couple songs, before the constant accidental eye contact between her and several of the team became overwhelming for her own good. Like they were in on a secret she didn’t know about.
“Why do I get the feeling our colleagues are getting a kick out of this?”
Johnny smirked, leading her into a soft sway in beat with the music. “Maybe because they all know I’ve been waiting for this moment for months.”
Midas looked up at him with surprise at the unexpected confession, heart skipping once more as heat boiled in her chest. “Johnny--.”
“C’mon, Midas,” his chuckle was low and laced with nerves despite his beaming smile, “I’ve been chasing after you like a kicked puppy since you gave me the glare of a lifetime the first time we met. I haven’t exactly been shy about it.” He presses his hand on her lower back to inch her closer. “Everyone knows I’m…” he paused, tongue tracing his bottom lip as heat reached his ears. “I’m head over heels for you.”
There it was. The confession he’d been holding onto for months. The one which consumed his mind and had his family wondering what the hell happened to the once most desired bachelor who had no time for romance and relationships when he had the fate of the world in his hands. Who flirted with men and women alike, but always kept interest at arms length.
That all seemed to change the moment the man of fire met the woman made of gold.
Suddenly the air became hot, and not just because Johnny was emitting a bit of heat due to the anxiety he felt as he waited for her response. Midas herself felt a bubbling volcano in her stomach that erupted along her skin until her palms started to sweat. Unable to find her voice despite her mouth parting slightly from the gasp she released.
Johnny waited, his own palms feeling clammy against the fabric of her dress and the one holding her own. For a moment they just stared at each other. The noise around them dampened, as though they were the only two in the room.
“Midas,” he coughed, full of nerves. Realizing maybe it wasn’t a good idea to admit his feelings in the middle of the damn dance floor where their teammates surrounded them, causing his blush to deepen. “I should’ve waited ti’ll after--fuck I’m sorry. I-I get it if you don’t feel the same--.” His sentence was caught off when he felt her grip on his hand tighten followed by a gentle pull, coating him to follow as she led them off the dance floor and away from prying eyes.
Johnny kept his eyes on the back of her head as they ascended the spiral staircase, only peering behind his shoulder to see if any of their friends were watching them escape the gala. Much to his relief, it appeared the only one noticing their Irish goodbye was his own sister, who caught the worried expression he wore and immediately mirrored it, but relaxed when he shook his head as if to say, “I’ll be fine, trust me.”
They reached the top of the stairs to the overlooking floor, where Midas turned a corner where she knew a private balcony resided. The noise of the party soon became background noise, completely muffled by the sliding glass doors as the cool air hit Johnny the moment he stepped onto the terrace.
She released his hand, feet carrying her to the edge of the balcony where she steadied herself on the railing, keeping her back toward him. For Johnny, all it did was intensify his nerves, fearing he ruined his chances as he took in her stiffened demeanor.
Softly, he called out her name, “Please talk to me. If you don’t feel the same, tell me and I’ll turn around and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t pressure you--or-or bother you and give you all the space. Just please, don’t shut me out.”
A moment passed and then, “It’s not that I don’t feel the same, Johnny,” she finally breathed, and Johnny felt his heart skip, eyes widening slightly. “I…” peering over her shoulder, he caught the worry pooling in her beautiful face. “I’m scared.”
“Scared of what, baby?” The pet name fell naturally as he moved closer until he was directly beside her. She turned back to the overlooking city, glittering like stars from the array of lights.
“This. Us. Me. The world,” she blinked, voice beginning to waver. “I don’t….I don’t know how to--,” the words were a struggle to find. “Since my powers triggered it’s been one fight after another. Not just against bad guys, but a battle within myself. I’ve always kept people--even my teammates--at arms length because relationships of any kind are not permanent. My own parents…” she trailed off, the painful memory lingering in the air. Still, Johnny remained quiet, heart breaking when she whispered, “I don’t know how to let someone in.”
He understood this was Midas being vulnerable, a rarity considering she’s always come off with a cold, no-nonsense exterior. Vulnerability was scary. Something she kept hidden and as a fellow superhero with expectations, Johnny related to the feeling of fear one gets when they expose themself. That doing so would only be dismissed.
“Letting someone in is scary,” he agreed, tone gentle and comforting. “But we can take it slow,” he assured. “I know our lives are fast paced and hectic, but we don’t have to be that way. I care about you, Midas, and I want you to feel comfortable. Above all else, your feelings matter to me.”
“I’m too complicated, Johnny,” she tried to argue.
“So am I,” was his rebuttal, “let’s be complicated together.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I never said it was simple, Midas. Look at us,” he gestured with a gentle smile, “Who we are. What we do. I never thought when I got my powers that I’d be pulled into a whole different universe and meet people who I could finally relate to. I met you,” he inched closer, “and everything I once thought wasn’t possible, suddenly made sense.”
His words affected her, teetering the edge of a love confession, sending another wave of heat in her chest as her heart began to pump rapidly. As much as she didn’t want to push him away, her mind was on overdrive. The hyperindependence she accustomed herself to since childhood kicking in and overriding her heart that called out to him.
“Johnny, you have to understand that I am…” she let out a shuddered exhale, hands trembling which were soothed when he gently laid his own on top. “I am not someone who's easy to be with. I wake up at night in a panic--I-I shut down when I’m overwhelmed or I lash out--and I’ll lash out at you even when I don’t mean to.” Water brimmed her eyes, coated in a shine that was enhanced by the moonlight cascading down on them. “You got your powers by external factors out of your control,” she hated herself for going this route, but she had to get it off her chest, “and were well received. I was born this way, and have been scrutinized, discriminated against, and hunted for it. It’s shaped the way I am--it’s not all golden like your sister and Reed--or-or Gambit and Rogue. I’m consumed with rage half the time, Johnny. I am a mess,” the crack in her voice shattered Johnny. “You’d be saving yourself the difficulty and hurt you’ll get from dealing with me.”
Deal with her? That alone hurt Johnny, for he did not view his feelings toward Midas and all the walls she built for herself he wanted to guard as dealing with her. Would it be difficult? Maybe. But that’s what one does when they love someone. When they want to not break down the walls but simply hold them together as a unit. Earning their trust, guarding it. No one ever said love was easy, but when it’s with the right person, it’s as peaceful as the gentle waves of the ocean kissing the sand as it makes it to shore.
Johnny wanted to be the one to bring her to the shore whenever the waves became too much. Even when her mind acted like a riptide and pulled her out at sea. She’d been through so much, it’s no surprise to him she’d attempt to push him away when he could see the conflict pooling in her eyes.
Sensing this, Johnny took one hand in hers to pull her closer, the other cupping her cheek. His soft smile remained as his eyes filled with determination and warmth. “I’ll wake up with you to hold and remind you where you are. When you’re overwhelmed, I’ll be that calm presence. If you lash out then I’ll take it while you get it out of your system until you feel better.” Her bottom lip trembled; Johnny gently let his thumb brush over it.
“I may not understand the full extent of everything you and your family have gone through, and God I probably never will,” The cold breeze disappeared as a comforting warmth spread across the terrace. “But I know one thing for sure: I will never, ever, let anyone hurt you like that again. So long as I breathe, anyone who thinks they can treat you differently because you were born different from them, born with gifts, will be given a healthy dose of flames.” The giggle mixed with her light sniffle was a reward in itself, Johnny bringing one of her hands up to his mouth to press a soft kiss to her knuckles, causing her to shudder. “I mean it, Midas. I want this--I want you. I’ll prove it every day if I have to, just give me a chance.”
The seconds felt like a lifetime waiting for her answer. The golden mutant stared up at him with tear stained cheeks, unable to keep them contained when he let his heart speak the words he’d been waiting months for. And right when Johnny began to accept the silent rejection, his chest tightened, and warmth exploded within him from the way Midas tilted her head slightly to mold her lips to his palm still cradling her cheek.
One kiss. The two, before she withdrew and met his gaze once more. “You terrify me, Johnny Storm,” she admitted with a whisper, her breath heating his hand. “But I don’t want to hide away anymore, not when it comes to you.” Fingers trailed up his suit-cladded forearm, all the way up to his shoulder. “I want this, too,” she nuzzled against his touch, causing him to melt and hold her against him. “Just promise to be patient with me, please? I’m not as strong as I come off to be.”
The grin on Johnny’s lips could not be suppressed, beaming bright like the sun as the sheer happiness soared within his veins. “Patience is my middle name,” he teased, earning a playful scowl. His tone then turned serious, “and baby, you don’t always have to be strong around me. I want to be the shoulder you cry on, the person you lean on when things get rough.” It took everything in him not to surge forward and bring Midas into a passionate kiss, but he held himself back, opting for a light peck to her forehead. “We take this slow like I promised, okay?”
She nodded against his hand, matching his awed expression as another wave of tears pooled in her eyes. “Okay.”
Okay. It was a promise. Hope for the future. For Johnny, it was everything.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” was his only warning before he sealed his lips onto hers, the mutant accepting it wholeheartedly with a light gasp followed by a chuckle. Arms moving to wrap around his heated neck while his hands stayed splayed on her cheek and lower back.
Midas felt his smile against her lips, resulting in her own. The two remained like that on the terrace, tangled in each other's embrace while exchanging sweet, soft kisses while the rest of the world vanished around them. The party continued, several of their friends catching on to their disappearance, to which Gambit and Ben clinked their glasses together while Scott, Reed and Sue gave knowing looks.
“About damn time,” Ben smiled around the rim of his glass. “Thought Matchstick was going to cop out tonight and miss his chance all together.”
Gambit hummed, lips curling in a smirk, “Johnny Boy just needed a little push to get the ball rollin’. Not to mention the cards were in his favor,” for an added flare, the mutant spawned an Ace of Spades car from thin air. “After all,” his red irises twinkled, “Once you make contact, no one can resist the Midas Touch.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Look at me,” The demand earned him her breathless gasp, eyes peeling open to lock on his, which were filled with absolute devotion. “I’ve got you,” one hand cradled her face, brushing over the bottom of her lip as another whimper left her from the gentle rock of his hips. Johnny drew back only to press forward again, pleasure erupting from both as the temperature in the room continued to rise with their lovemaking. Praising her with the gentle words, “You’re perfect--absolutely perfect.”
Usually when Johnny awoke to Midas thrashing against the covers from the nightmare plaguing her sleep, he’d quickly pull her out and proceed to hold her in his arms until she managed to fall back into a peaceful slumber. Pressing soft kisses against her hairline while he rubbed her back, shortly falling asleep on his own accord not long after. It’s been nearly two years since they took the leap and made their relationship official, and thankfully the terrors she faced in her sleep slowly became less frequent. Almost rare.
Tonight, however, the battle raging in her mind had been too much. Sending her back in time to the destruction of Genosha that left her shaken to the core. All the bodies. All the death. Blood seeping down her temples. Her suit tarnished and torn, covered with dirt and blood. Not just her own, but that of fellow mutants she failed to save. Green light beams shooting down from the sky. Buildings up in flames. Screams. The awful, blood-curling screams of those cowering to safety only to meet their end.
She saw herself calling out to Rogue. To Gambit. Praying to whatever higher power may exist they were okay. Then everything went dark. And she lifted her head to find the silhouette of mayhem in all its metal glory. The Sentinel staring down at her as she stood frozen. Eyes completely void until they glowed brighter and brighter until the last thing she saw before she woke up was a green glow consuming her vision.
Screams filled the darkened room, abruptly waking Johnny with a gasp where he turned to see his partner fling up from the mattress and nearly fall off the edge of the bed, Johnny reaching out in a flash to grab hold of her.
“Baby! Baby, wake up--It’s okay!” He tried to calm her down as she fought against his hold. “It’s all a dream--you’re dreaming, honey--.”
“They’re all dead!” she wailed, nails biting into his forearm, before she quickly removed them. Fearing her powers would unleash to their own accord if she touched him. “They killed them--they-they-they lied to us!! And they killed them!”
Immediately Johnny understood what she was referring to, his hold tightening as he attached his lips to her temple. “Look at me, Midas,” one hand came to her jaw, gently encouraging her to turn her head even though she still thrashed to get away, preventing their skin from making contact. “Honey, focus on my voice. Listen to me--I’m right here with you. You’re home. You’re safe.”
He felt relieved when she finally opened her eyes, but it broke him to see the utter despair in them.
“They lied, Johnny.”
“I know they did, baby,” he cooed, thumb smoothing the skin of her jaw in hopes to calm her down, happy she allowed the touch.
“They promised peace to us--ev-everything was supposed to be okay…and they lied to us,” her voice was hoarse from how dried her throat became from the screaming. “There were too many of them.” The sentinels. “We couldn’t do anything--I couldn’t do anything.” Her bottom lip trembled with a sob.
Johnny’s breath fawned her cheek, blinking away his own tears that threatened to fall. “You were dreaming, baby. It wasn’t real--.”
“But it was, Johnny!” her wail cut him off and bounced off the walls, hands clutching the sheets as a means to ground herself. “It was real! It happened--an--and they knew it would happen and they did nothing. They did nothing to stop it! They let us pick up the pieces on our own--I had to bury my friends.” The last sentence trailed into a wave of sobs, impossible to keep in.
Johnny pressed her face into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her neck while murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. Lips trailing all over her hairline and cheeks, tasting salt from the tears she released. A few of his own fell, for he felt the pain she poured out and wished nothing more than to take it away.
“Hey, hey,” he shushed when her sobs turned to hiccups, coaxing her back down. “Breath with me--you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t take some deep breaths. With me, okay? In--.” He inhaled deeply, waiting for her to follow his lead. Once she did, he exhaled, “and out.” Again, she copied.
They repeated the action a few times until her hiccups subsided, letting her breath at a normal pace. She still shivered, and Johnny was quick to light the candle on her nightstand with a flick of his finger, bringing a dim glow to the room, and returned his tight hold around her.
“There you go,” he cooed, planting a kiss on her forehead. He kept rubbing her back until she evened out, relaxing against him which in turn relaxed Johnny.
The clock ticked by, seconds turning into minutes, and Johnny looked down to find her already staring back at him in a way that caused the air to catch in the back of his throat. An intense stare, pinning him in place and sent heat down his spine for he knew what she was thinking at that moment.
“What do you need from me?” His voice lowered as the atmosphere became thick.
She reached for him, drawing him close until their breaths mingled and the heat of his skin collided with her. “Make me forget,” came her plea. “Remind me it’s all in the past and they’ll never hurt me again. Please, Johnny,” he internally groaned at the desperation in her voice, heightened by the intensity behind her eyes. “I need you.”
That was all Johnny needed to hear before he was smashing his lips to hers, maneuvering their position, “I’ll give you everything to you, baby. You don’t have to beg--I got you.”
Raising them both to their knees so he could tug away the satin nightgown off her body, laying kisses to the expanse of her throat and chest while she grasped at his t-shirt, begging him to remove it to which he did in an instant. Laying his hands on her hips, he guided her to the mattress, pressing her down so he could hover above and resume his worshiping down her body. Teasing the trim of her underwear with his mouth as down the skin of her thighs, leaving her an absolute mess.
The remaining pieces of clothes peeled away, his mouth never leaving the area she needed him most until she leapt over the edge twice before Johnny removed himself and crawled up the bed, shedding his boxers and guiding himself between her legs.
He shuddered with each trace of her hands down his back.
She gasped with every kiss he left to her pulse point.
They moved as one and everything about it was transcending. The feel of their skin on one another. The heat he produced, pouring into the open space causing sweat to coat their skin. Her moans and soft sounds, each combined with his grunts and the gentle creak of the bed. Hands gripping shoulders and hips, hard enough to leave bruises, and marks of love across their necks and collarbones.
She looked heavenly under the dim glow of the candle beside their bed. The only light in the room--save for what peaked through the windows from the moon. And Johnny swore he lost the ability to breathe when she cupped his cheeks in her hands, maintaining the eye contact he yearned for.
It sent his heart soaring. Unable to stop himself from leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Pushing his nose against hers as he swallowed her moan, thrusts never ceasing their pace. Bringing them closer to release with each pump.
“I love you,” saliva coated his mouth, leaving a glistening sheen as he pulled away, but kept his arms by her head so that he was practically cradling her. “So much. God, I can’t get enough of you.” The words left her a whimpering mess, her body reacting as well it caused his hips to falter. “You’re the love of my life, sweetheart. Never fucking forget that--you hear me? Never.”
How could she really? When he spent every living breathing moment worshiping the ground she walked on. Gazing at her like some walking Goddess sent to make him forget everything else existed until only she remained. Touching her as though she were a priceless artifact that belonged in the Louvre.
“I love you,” she panted back, breath fawning his mouth, their gazes locked with so much intensity it made them hazy. “Oh, Johnny, I love you.” Hands trailed from his cheeks to the back of his neck, keeping him held close as she could not stand having him away from her.
As they neared their end, Johnny lifted her up and onto his lap, cradling her as one hand tangled in her hair and the other wrapped around her lower back. The heat intensified, the atmosphere spellbinding and Johnny tucked his face in the crook of her neck.
She choked on the air, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the coil unravel and that familiar smoothness of metal forming at her fingertips, causing panic to quickly rise as it always did when she felt herself starting to lose control in the middle of their lovemaking. “Jo-Johnny--.”
“I got you,” his hold tightened, keeping her pressed to him as he slowed his movements and removed his face from her neck to see the area below her eyelids beginning to turn. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.” The hand in her hair moved to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin turning beneath his touch. When she finally opened them after another sound of encouragement, they were consumed by solid gold.
It spread to her cheekbones and temples, over her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose. Covering her complexion in a way that made it look like she was wearing a masquerade mask. And Johnny caught his reflection staring back at him on the smooth, shiny surface.
She was close, he felt it in the way her body began to stiffen and her breathing faltered. Rocking against the slow pace of his hips to chase it while fighting against the fear of her powers taking over. It wasn’t the first time it had happened--evident by their golden headboard that was once a deep brown oak.
And her nightstand…..
“Come back to me,” Johnny’s eyes never left hers, easing his pace as he encouraged her with a gentle voice. Her shuddered breath had him lean closer so their foreheads were touching, holding the back of her head when she tried to move away fearing she’d hurt him. “You’re right here, baby. Just relax and breathe for me.”
She leaned into his touch, welcoming it this time instead of running from it, nodding as she inhaled deeply only to let it release it and allow herself to let go of the fear and just feel. Feel his heat, his touch, his love.
The coil in her stomach rose again, fast and powerful until it consumed every inch of her body and washed over like a tidal wave, releasing a sound from her lips that bounced off every wall and sent chills up Johnny’s spine. He continued to move, eyes planted firmly on her face to drink in every sound and flash of pleasure that poured out until his own climax seeped out before he had the chance to realize it was happening. Clutching her so tight it stole the air from her throat.
“God,” he groaned her name, sweat trailing his temple as he pressed his forehead to her chest, lips barely brushing her sternum. “You did so good, baby. So good.” He kissed the area between her breasts, hands caressing her lower back until he felt her relax against him.
Together, they came down from the high and back to Earth. Panting and holding one another as though it was the only thing they knew how to do. Johnny continued to kiss along her chest, murmuring soft praises that pressed into her skin until he finally glanced up to meet her eye. Relieved to see the gold retreating, her cheeks and temples returning to their natural complexion. The color of her eyes meeting his, no longer swallowed by metal. Leaving only sweat along her glistening hairline.
“That was an intense one, huh,” Johnny smiled, hand reaching to cup her jaw. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just traveled at light speed for the first time,” catching her breath, she swallowed the saliva that had built in the back of her throat. Fingers moving to cup the back of his neck where they softly carded through his blonde locks. “For a moment there, I thought our bed was going to match the bedframe.”
Johnny laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw, “Not going to lie, I thought so too.” Adjusting her in his lap, Johnny maneuvered them so they were back laying on the mattress. He removed himself with a hiss, planting one last kiss on her forehead before going to the bathroom to retrieve a warm cloth and her silk robe. Returning to the bed, he gently cleaned her up, lips brushing her knee and thigh which earned him a giggle and helped her into her robe, tying it with a secure knot. Then he approached her dresser to grab a clean pair of underwear, which he also assisted her into before he finally slipped into a clean boxers then into the sheets on his side of the bed. Flopping half on top of her.
“You need some water?”
“No, I’m good,” she replied, adjusting herself against the mattress. Once comfortable she wrapped her arms around his naked torso, head pressing onto the soft pillow with a soft sigh as her breathing finally evened out. “Thank you.”
He pressed his mouth to her cleavage exposed by the robe. The action speaking louder than any words could. It said, ‘I’ll always be here for you,’ and “I’ll always give you what you need.”
It said, “I love you,” which he whispered into her skin, shuddering at the way her hands trailed the expanse of his back. Soft lingering touches he melted into, completely spent and full of love.
“I love you,” she whispered back, the last waves of the high coming down causing her to sigh in content, “so much it hurts.” Another kiss, one with pressure, was laid to her chest. Feeling Johnny squeeze her hip as he nuzzled his nose into the area above her collarbone.
Together they basked in the afterglow, the cool air colliding with the heat left behind. Sweat lingering on their bodies, giving them both a dewy complexing that radiated against the candlelight. And sweet touches that left them dreamy.
Johnny, like he often did when her past came back to haunt her, voiced his frustration at the people responsible. “I wish I knew you when it happened--I hate that you went through that alone.”
Midas, as she always counted, calmed him down with kisses and words of understanding. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s something I’ve had to accept the hard way, but…you learn with time.”
“That doesn’t excuse their shitty behavior.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Eventually, the fatigue hit. The two heroes were unable to fight it as they positioned themselves on their respective sides of the bed. Johnny extinguished the candle, sending them into darkness and Midas rested her head leveled with his chest.
Johnny brushed one last kiss to her hairline, tilting her chin up with a thumb to lay one on her lips. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Always will be.”
Her hand caught his, interlacing their fingers to bring his knuckles to her mouth, “I know.”
When the darkness settled over them and with the heat of her love blanketed over her, Midas succumbed to a dreamy slumber filled with love and happiness rather than chaos and destruction. Johnny’s laugh echoed, his smile shining behind her eyelids. Reminding her of the light she found in a universe far far away from her own.
She may have had the power to turn anything into gold, but Johnny Storm’s love truly held the Midas touch.
Summary: Logan Howlett x fe!Reader -> When you join the staff of Mutant High and meet Logan, neither of you realise you've just met your forever.
Disclaimer: Fluff, falling in love, friends to lovers, elemental control! reader, mutant abilities recognised through stress, mention/descriptions of tragedy and stress, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, he fell first and harder, kissing, swearing.
You could remember when things started to change; you’d never forget it.
Between the stress of exams, home stress with the fear of being the one thing your family didn’t exactly like, and trying to find some kind of balance between it all, you had driven out to the abandoned field just outside of town.
Most of the grass was either driven over or trodden on from people using it for all sorts of things. The last time it had been used was just a week before for the Spring break bonfire. You hadn’t been invited, but from the stories that were told at school a few days later, you were glad of that fact.
The logs that once carried the fire were charred and slowly slipping away with the growing winds.
You felt like you couldn’t breathe.
Throwing the door open, you were pretty sure you’d still left the key in the ignition. You wanted to scream. You didn’t like to scream, but you felt like you needed to.
Somewhere between the whipping of wind, circling around you over and over, only getting more intense and the noise inside your head, you dropped to your knees.
A scream ripped out of your throat before you could stop it.
All you could feel was…anguish. Pain and suffering over and over. You screamed some more, hearing more voices in your head than you wished to; and none were nice. People you wanted to forget, people you didn’t want to become or be associated with.
You needed to ground yourself. You needed to find a pause, a way to recognise you were still on Earth, still on the ground.
Your palms fell to the dry dirt.
What should have been cold and damp as you dug your fingers through it, trying to anchor yourself to the miniscule pause your head gave you, instead started to vibrate.
It wasn’t until the fence five hundred feet away started to shake and lift out of the ground that you realised a tornado was starting to be created…by you.
Finally, you had peace in your mind.
But only for a moment because, just as everything else became silent, worry started to creep through you. The tornado wasn’t small by any means and it was headed straight towards you.
“Shit.”
Scrambling to your feet, you ran back to your car and tried to start the engine. It stalled for a moment, but with a hit to the dashboard, it roared to life and you moved as quickly as you could.
Checking on it in your rearview mirror, it was only growing.
That tornado became known as The Titan. It tore through the entire town, ripped houses from their concrete slabs and forever changed the town’s policy to tornado attacks.
“Can I help you?” A voice asked as you hung your coat by the door way and picked the large yellow plastic box up from the table.
From around the corner of the staircase, a man appeared. Tall, lumbering and a great head of hair. He sensed something about you – that much you knew.
“Hi,” you smiled lightly, sticking your hand out to him, catching the heavy box with your knee. “I’m Y/n.”
He hesitated in taking your hand, but eventually shook it anyway. “Logan.”
You smiled. “The history professor.”
“How do you-”
“I used to work here,” you told him, quickly. You held onto the box securely once more as he let your hand go. “I wasn’t meant to arrive til next week but-”
“Y/n?”
From down the hallway, Xavier appeared in his wheelchair with a beaming smile on his face. “I thought you couldn’t get here until next week?”
You nodded. “I thought so, too. But I got my reviews handed in early and apparently there’s meant to be roadworks on the highway again from Sunday so,” you shrugged.
“Well, that’s wonderful.” Xavier smiled. “Logan, perhaps you can help Y/n to her old office?”
“Oh, that’s al-”
“Nonsense. Besides, it’ll give you both an opportunity to get to know each other.” Xavier nodded down the hallway. “It’s just across from yours, Logan.”
Soon enough, you and Logan were walking side by side down the corridors and towards your office.
“Are you sure you don’t want some help?”
You shook your head. “No, I’ve got it. Thank you. So, you’re The Wolverine?”
Logan nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry, I don’t really know about you.”
You chuckled. “That’s alright. I don’t really have a superhero name, but my abilities are usually tied with elemental capabilities. Create, conjure, control – that sort of thing.”
Logan nodded. “When did you find that out?”
You paused for a moment. “Uh, when I was younger. Just before mid-terms in my Sophomore Year.”
“Late bloomer, then?”
You smiled a little. “Yeah, guess so. When Xavier found me, he told me apparently I had an extraordinary ability to suppress my emotions, but in doing so, it made them…grow stronger.”
Finally, you reached your office. Logan unlocked the door for you and you walked inside. It hadn’t changed.
“Jesus, this is what was in here?” You heard Logan asked, somewhere behind you as he coughed.
There was dust everywhere, even on the paint-stained cover sheets. By the looks of it, Xavier had kept his word that Scott wouldn’t be allowed to change your office in any way, shape or form.
You smiled, laying the box down on your desk before tearing the plasterboard from the window and trying to unlock the window.
“Do you mind-”
Logan stepped over some of the old cardboard boxes to get to the other side of the window. “On three,” he told you.
On three, you both pushed at the window until it came free and finally opened. Taking in the scent of the honeysuckle outside the window, you smiled. Logan looked around for a moment, really taking in the room. Then, as he looked back at you, you graced him with a light smile just as a forceful but light breeze spun through the window and around the room.
He sneezed and coughed as a tiny tornado of dust blew past him and out the window, but when he looked back again, the office space seemed…almost like new.
Walking over, you lifted the box you’d been carrying, watching as the trapped dust under it flew out of the window too.
“Impressive.”
You grinned, unclipping the box. “Thanks.”
“School books? Are you going to be teaching here?” Logan asked.
“No,” you shook your head. “But I will be working here.”
“Don’t you have a job back…wherever you’ve come from?”
You nodded. “I do, but I need a break from the city.”
“So…what will you be doing?”
“Analysis for the team, and for Xavier. Help build packets for court cases surrounding Mutant Laws. And, if needed, covering a couple classes.”
Logan smiled. “So, you are here to teach?”
“Only if you’re out of business, Wolverine.”
He raised his eyebrows, but tried to seem cool about it. “You teach history?”
“Used to.”
“Figured with the element thing, you would have been a science teacher?”
You chuckled and shook your head. “No. Science was actually my worst subject. I might be able to conjure the elements, but that doesn't mean I understand their subject.”
Logan chuckled. “Fair enough. I, uh, I guess I’ll leave you to it then.”
You nodded, smiling. “Thanks.”
“It was nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
By the time you officially started back working both for and with Xavier, you and Logan had gotten to know each other a little more.
And as the years went by, you grew a little closer with each and every interaction.
It was a random Thursday afternoon when someone cleared their throat at Logan’s open office door. “You done ogling?"
Logan felt his presence get knocked back into him as Rogue coughed. He hadn’t realised how long he’d actually been staring at you.
It took all of two days for Logan to realise, if he kept his office door open and so did you, he could see you sitting at your desk. And that was a seriously better view than the endless display of nature outside of his office window.
Logan cleared his own throat. “What?”
Rogue smiled as she walked inside and took a seat across from his desk. “Oh, don’t try to hide it. We all know.”
“Know what?” Logan asked, trying to turn his concentration back on the papers he still needed to mark.
Rogue smiled as she watched him. Red cheeks, nervous shake of his hands as he readjusted his pen. “Logan?”
“What, kid?”
“Just tell her,” Rogue said, calmly.
Braving to face her, Logan looked up. “Tell who, what?”
She smiled, sitting forward. “You keep your office door open.”
“As does any good teacher.”
She nodded. “Yeah, and I’m not saying you’re not a good teacher, because you are. But you’re not the kind to keep their office door open at all times.”
Logan felt she had more to say, so saving himself a scolding, he just continued to listen.
“She’s the first and last person your eyes land on when you enter and leave a room. And I know that when you can’t sleep at night…she’s the only one you want to talk to.”
Logan just sighed. “Marie-”
She shook your head. “Nu-uh, no.”
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“Don’t you think, after everything we’ve been through- after everything you’ve been through…don’t you think you deserve something good for once?”
Logan contemplated her question as he turned and looked back towards your office. Your door was still open and you were finally throwing off your headphones and glasses to lean back in your chair and force a fresh breeze through your window.
Deep down, he knew Rogue was right. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it a thousand times before. But…you made him nervous.
He’d lived over a hundred years, he’d met millions of people, experienced things in life that would make anyone have a cold sweat long after they’d been buried. But his feelings for you and acting on them?
That scared him more than anything he’d ever faced before.
He knew he liked you the minute he walked you down the hallway to your office when you’d first met. He knew he found you attractive when he turned around and looked at you just before you showed him a tiny fraction of what your abilities could do. And he knew he fell in love with you the night you appeared by his side and he realised he wasn’t dreaming.
He’d been having a nightmare. Nothing too dramatic, but enough to have him speaking in his sleep, and toss around in a cold sweat. But when he heard your voice and he opened his eyes, he saw you…
“Logan?”
He took in a breath as he looked at you. Your beauty, encased in the twilight, shocked him down to his core. His hand reached out, slowly, trying to make sure you were real and not some kind of Angel he’d dreamed up.
“Y/n?”
You smiled, a slight curve appearing in the corner of your mouth. “Yeah, I’m here. You were having a nightmare.”
“I think I’m still dreaming,” he said, his voice still barely above a whisper.
A breathy laugh escaped you as he reached out to touch you. For a moment, he played with the ends of your hair. “You’re not dreaming anymore.”
“Feels like a dream,” he told you, half-asleep.
“Well, it’s not,” you assured him, quietly. You lay a gentle hand on his chest just as he covered your hand with his own to keep it there. “I’ll stay til you fall back to sleep.”
“Goodnight…Angel…”
You were shocked to say the least, but Logan didn’t notice. Instead, feeling your palm over his heart, he soon fell back to sleep. In the morning, he had no recollection of what happened. At least, it seemed that way to you.
Not long after Rogue left his office, Logan was left debating what to do. You were sitting in your office, listening to the natural breeze blow by, every now and again floating the scent of honeysuckle and lavender inside.
“Long day?”
Opening your eyes, you turned and looked at him. “Yeah. I’m ready for summer break to start.”
Logan smiled, an idea entering his mind. “How many papers do you have left?”
You blew a raspberry and nodded to the pile on the chair beside the entrance way. “All of them. Plus the final review of new-comer classes.”
Logan exhaled. “Wanna get out of here? For a couple hours at least?”
You weighed up your options. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”
Logan smiled. “It’s a secret. Just grab your jacket and meet me by the truck.”
“Not your motorcycle?” You asked, a little shocked.
“We’re gonna need something sturdier.”
You were intrigued so, with an excited look, you nodded. “Okay, then.”
Twenty minutes later, Logan was pulling onto the highway as you dug through the fast food bag.
Tearing the paper away from the straw with your teeth, you turned it over and pulled the straw out before slamming it into the cup and handing it over to Logan. You did the same with your own, placing it in the cup holder beside his own.
Carefully unwrapping his food, you placed it on his lap to reach for as he also concentrated on the surprisingly calm highway.
“So, where are we headed?”
“Still a surprise.”
It wasn’t until Logan was pulling off the highway and after a long stretch of road, started driving down a few smaller dirt roads that led towards a familiar forest that you realised just where he’d taken you.
It was the same safe space you’d driven him to in the early hours of the morning a while ago when he’d suffered the biggest nightmare you’d ever witness him have. He was still out of it by the time you arrived, and for a solid hour, you wrapped him in the silencing wind and enough scents of nature to calm his mind, body and soul.
“Thought we could both do with some fresh scenery,” Logan said as he looked at you, both of you standing in front of the truck and looking out over the cliff edge.
For a while, you both just sat on the ground, talking. And Logan watched as you dug your hands into the Earth beside you and let the dirt run through your fingers, absentmindedly.
The longer you both talked and laughed and shared untold stories, the more Logan noticed about you – or rather, the Earth around you. He knew plenty about you, already. Not that he’d ever get enough. But it was a rare sight to see your abilities fall out of you so naturally that even you didn’t notice.
The plants seemed lusher, the trees seemed to let out more oxygen, more flowers bloomed open, the wind offered a gentle breeze that would wrap around both of you and…you brightened.
By the time the sun was starting to set, the freshness of nature remained, but you were getting tired. Conversation had stalled, naturally, and when you weren’t looking, Logan found himself studying the same figure of you that he saw when you were in your office – only, this time, it was up close.
“Logan?” You turned and looked at him. But he was staring. He hummed.
You chuckled a little, your voice soft. “You’re staring.”
His eyes met yours, a little frozen before he looked away. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you smiled, reaching out for his hand. “I like the way you look at me.”
He met your eyes once more, taken aback by the colour of yours. “And…how do I look at you?”
You swallowed. “Like I’m just as beautiful as the nature around us.”
“More,” he corrected, not taking the feeling of your hand in his, or the fact you were meeting his gaze, for granted. “More.”
You swallowed, nervously, averting your gaze for a moment.
“What? What is it?”
Logan watched as a crease became visible between your eyebrows. And then your voice cracked. “Um-”
“Hey,” Logan’s voice was soft as he reached out for you, tilting your face til you met his gaze again. With a gentle thumb, he brushed away the fallen tear. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s…it’s nothing.”
“It’s something, clearly.”
“It’s stupid.”
Logan leaned closer to you. “Y/n?”
Letting out a breath, you tried to steady your voice. “You’re gonna think I’m pathetic.”
“Never.”
You choked out a laugh and hummed as if to say yeah, sure.
“I mean it.” He told you. “Nothing is more pathetic than Scott when it comes to Sports Day.”
You laughed a real laugh for a moment. Somewhere between the laugh and your words, you found enough courage to steady your voice. “I never thought someone would look at me the way you do, let alone admit it.” You swallowed, looking to where your hand joined with his. “You already know most of my story.”
And he did.
Six months after meeting him, Logan learned of how you came to find out about your abilities. The damage that the tornado had done, the damage that it had caused you; both before and after.
He knew about where and how the team had found you; on the run after your high school graduation. No authorities were after you, and no family was coming to find you. But you had been scared of making a home and a family somewhere else in case they felt the same as everyone else did about the abilities they didn’t know you had.
He knew about the friends you had made and the family that had helped you face the tragedies you thought you couldn’t move on from. He knew about when you’d left to move to the city to start a corporate job and why you decided to move back.
He knew about your tragedies, your happy moments, your anger and your joy. He knew everything. And hadn’t judged you but rather accepted you into his life with open arms.
“But even some things I’ve kept to myself,” you admitted.
Even though you knew, if he thought about them, the unspoken things would be understood. But you’d never voiced them.
You’d never voiced how, despite all the change, you still feared a relationship and a family of your own in case something went wrong. You’d never voiced how you tried your best to accept things in your life but still craved the intimacy of what you had with Logan but still feared him turning you away one day.
You’d never voiced that you’d fallen for him a year into working by his side, over a cup of stale coffee at four in the morning as you both waited on Rogue getting back from her three day long road trip from Canada.
“I’m scared about this, Logan.”
Logan felt a drag on his heart at your pain, but also felt a weight lift off his shoulders. You weren’t the only one.
“I’m scared about this, too.”
For a moment, a look flashed across your face that he didn’t recognise. So he added; “I’ve had a lot go wrong in my life, but you are one of the best things that has. And I want to get it right with you.”
A range of emotions washed over you as he told you. The loudest being; he’s scared because he doesn’t want to get it wrong? Not because he’s scared of you?
Without another deafening thought, you surged forward and kissed him. He leaned back a little, shocked by the unexpected kiss. But rather than tearing himself away from you, a cog turned in his head and he leaned in, kissing you back.
With a hand threaded through the back of your hair, he pulled you as close to him as he could before leaning his back against the tree trunk and pulling you onto him.
With the sun setting behind you, Logan took a breather for a moment to drink you in, in case the entire course of his memories with you had been nothing but his own imagination conjuring up his dream woman.
“Fuck,” he breathed, soaking the vision of you in. The warm glow of the sun bounced off your hair, your cheeks were flushed and your lips slick with his kiss. “You’re perfect.”
Unable to speak anymore, he heard you breath and his eyes fluttered closed. He’d been through a lot in his life, but never once did he allow himself to think he could have…everything.
You were his everything. You would always be his everything. He didn’t want anything more than just you. Ever.
He caught the rise of your smile as he leaned back in and kissed you again. You pressed your chest to his as he leaned up more, practically begging for you to let him deepen the kiss.
As you did so, you made a sweet noise at the back of your throat. A noise he would spend a life-time chasing if it meant he had the chance of hearing it again.
The kissing slowed…eventually. But that didn’t stop Logan from reaching for you. The seconds between closing your passenger side door of the truck to getting in the driver’s seat felt like the longest seconds of his life. And once the engine started up and he’d backed the truck up, he soon had your hand in his.
Once he hit the back roads, he reached over and pulled you further down the bench seat until you unclipped your seatbelt and buckled yourself into the middle seat so he could keep his arm around you the entire drive home.
And the next morning as you woke up beside him, was the first of the rest of forever.
Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it
Part 2 >> Masterlist
Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.
"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.
Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"
"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."
~~
Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.
Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.
Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?
Then he saw you.
You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.
"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.
You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.
“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.
“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.
“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.
You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”
He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”
“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”
What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”
“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”
“Of course I do.”
“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”
“My world?”
You nod again.
“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”
“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”
Logan chuckled at that.
“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”
He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”
“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”
“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”
“Oh, you're friends as well?”
“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”
“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”
Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.
You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.
“Angel.” You whispered darkly.
“Warren?”
“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”
“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”
You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.
“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.
Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.
“Here.”
You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.
You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.
“Why have you folded it like that?”
Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”
“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”
He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”
“Why are we leaving?”
“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”
You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”
He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”
It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.
He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.
“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.
“El.” You smiled widely.
She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”
“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”
“That is why I was worried.”
She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.
The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.
“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”
You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”
“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”
“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.
“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”
“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”
“Well, duh-”
“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.
“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.
“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”
“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.
Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”
“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”
“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.
You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”
“Maybe you should let it play out.”
“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”
“All the more reason to."
He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.
"Elektra told you the plan?”
“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”
Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.
Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”
You waved him off. “It's fine.”
“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.
“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”
“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.
“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”
“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.
“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”
“But you are hurt.”
“Logan.”
“Y/N.”
Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.
“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.
“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”
You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”
The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.
“You can't fight.” Logan started.
Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”
“Go on then.” He called your bluff.
You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”
“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.
With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.
Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”
Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?
Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”
Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”
“Well... Maybe I do, too.”
God he was ruined.
You were literally amazing.
How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.
Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.
He loved you, by god, he did.
Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.
Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.
Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.
"Come with me." He begged.
"I'm sure I will." You winked.
"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.
"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.
He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.
He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.
Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.
Hi! Can I please request a Bucky x fem!reader where she is a mutant (from present day) with the ability to time travel, but she does not know how to control/use her powers, so she accidentally sends herself all the way back to the 40s and she doesn’t know how to send herself back. She meets Bucky and Steve and they quickly become her best friends and also take her in because she has no where to live (due to her time traveling there, but they don’t know that) and her and Bucky fall in love and get married. After losing both her husband, Bucky, and her best friend, Steve (she, like the rest of the world, has no clue either of them survived) her grief starts up her powers again and she finds herself back to present day, right smack dab in the middle of the Avengers HQ while they’re having a meeting about Bucky (this is after he has been captured, when Zemo is about to talk to him). The Avengers are 100% ready to fight this perceived threat that just came out of nowhere, but Steve, after taking a second to process (he is BAFFLED), realizes that this is one of his best friends, his other best friend’s wife, from the 40s, and Y/n just starts crying and throws herself into his arms because her best friend is alive 🥺 He’d be so shook to hear that she was never actually from the 40s, but from present day. Anyway, when Zemo triggers the Winter Soldier to come out, when Steve and Sam bring him to that warehouse and have his arm trapped so he can’t move, Y/n comes along with them and sees her husband (who she thought was dead) for the first time since the 40s (for her it hasn’t been that long though because she time traveled back to present day right after losing him and Steve, so the grief is fresh) and Bucky immediately starts crying because his wife is there 🥺 (Steve 100% knows right then and there that he’s speaking to Bucky, not Winter Soldier)
Together Again » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier
Pairings: 40s Bucky Barnes x Mutant/Enhanced!Female Reader with Pre Serum Steve Rogers, Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mutant/Enhanced!Reader with Steve Rogers/Captain America and the Avengers
Summary: Your somehow loose control with your time travel abilities and it sends you all the way to the 1940s and you end up meeting Bucky and Steve. After hearing the devastating news about your husband’s death and disappearance of your best friend, or so you thought, your abilities send you back to the time period you’re supposed to be in and find out your husband and best friend have been alive the whole time and you two are finally together again.
Warnings: Fluff, language, crying, kissing, pet names
A/N: Thank you for the beautifully detailed request @kpopgirlbtssvt 🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Gif credits go to the creators.
You’re still trying to get used to having the ability to time travel. You don’t know how to control them yet and you ended up time traveling to a time period you’ve never been to. You looked around frantically. You were in an alleyway, but you don’t know where. You ran out of the alleyway to find something to tell you where you are and what time period you’re in. You looked around, seeing old cars and not as many businesses as the time period you’re supposed to be in.
“Ma’am?” You heard a voice from behind you.
You yelped and turned around, seeing two guys. One is a tall brunette and the other one is a blonde who’s about the same height as you. Both of them have blue eyes.
“Are you lost?” The brunette asks.
“Very. I’ve never been here before.” You say. “Can you guys tell me where I am?” You asked politely, trying to stay calm.
“Brooklyn, New York.” The blonde tells you.
“What year is it?” You asked curiously.
“You don’t know what year it is?” The brunette asks.
You shook your head no.
“It’s February 1941.” The brunette tells you.
Your eyes widened and your heart started to thud in your chest. You looked around, trying to gather your surroundings. That’s when you realized you were getting judgmental stares from anyone who walked past you.
“Why- Why’s everyone staring at me?” You asked.
“I think it’s because of what you’re wearing.” The blonde says.
You frowned and looked down at your outfit. You’re wearing a sweatshirt, black leggings, and your favorite sneakers. What’s wrong with that? Your mind was all over the place that you completely forgot that women in the 1940s don’t wear clothes like what you’re currently wearing.
“How about you come home with us so you’ll be warm and I’ll get you something to where?” The brunette suggests.
You stared at the two men for a few seconds before nodding your head. You walked with them, both of them on either side of you.
“What are your names?” You asked.
“I’m James, but everyone I know calls me Bucky.” Bucky introduces himself.
“And I’m Steve.” Steve introduces himself. “What’s your name?” He asks.
“Y/N.” You tell them.
When you got to their apartment, you looked around and sat down on the couch, nervously played with your fingers.
“Bucky will be back in a little bit. He went to his parents house to see what his sister has for you to wear.” Steve says, handing you a glass of water.
You smiled and accepted the glass of water.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” He says.
You nodded.
“It’s ok. I understand. I used to be like that before Bucky and I became friends.” He says.
You smiled at how understanding Steve is. You and Steve maintained a great conversation till Bucky got home.
“My sister gave me a few options for you to choose from.” Bucky handed you a few hangers of outfits. “You can change in my bedroom. It’s at the end of the hall.” He says.
You smiled and went to Bucky’s bedroom. You laid the outfits on his bed and looked at them, trying to decide which one you should wear. You settled with a floral skirt with a matching short sleeved blouse. You put it on and looked down at it, smoothing it out with your hands. You went back to the living room.
“What do you guys think?” You asked.
“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve compliments with a smile.
Bucky’s jaw dropped. He was stunned by your beauty. He’s never seen a woman as beautiful as you.
“What do you think, Bucky?” You asked.
Bucky is still stunned. Steve poked his cheek to get his attention. He swatted his hand away, making you giggle.
“You’re drop dead gorgeous, doll.” Bucky finally compliments.
“Thank you.” You blushed.
A smile formed on Bucky’s face the more he looked at you. He knew he that you, him, and Steve are going to be great friends. Actually, Bucky wants more with you. He can see a future with you.
Shortly after that day, Bucky and Steve let you move in with them. You still haven’t told them that you have the ability to time travel and you’re not actually from that time period. You have a feeling that they won’t believe you. You might as well be honest with them and tell them.
“Bucky? Steve? I need to tell you guys something.” You say nervously.
“What is it, doll?” Bucky asks.
“I haven’t told you guys everything about me.” You say.
“What do you mean?” Steve asks.
“Promise you guys will believe me?” You asked.
They nodded.
“I’m not actually supposed to be in this time period.” You tell them.
“Of course you do, doll.” Bucky put a comforting hand on your knee. “You belong here.” He says softly.
“That’s sweet of you to say, Bucky, but I’m serious. I’m not actually supposed to be in the 1940’s.” You say.
“If you think you’re not supposed to be in our time period, what time period do you think you’re supposed to be in?” Steve asks.
“In between the 2010s and 2020s.” You say.
Bucky’s and Steve’s eyes went wide when they heard those years.
“You’re supposed to be almost 100 years in the future?” Steve asks.
You nodded.
“The only way you’d get from the future all the way back here is time travel.” Bucky says.
You stared at them, waiting for them to realize it, in which they did. Both of them had shocked looks on their faces.
“Did you use a Time Machine to get here?” Steve asks.
“Not exactly.” You answered. “The time period where I’m supposed to be in has superpowers and abilities. Those who have superpowers or abilities are enhanced or mutants.” You explained.
“Which one are you?” He asks.
“I’m a mutant.” You tell them.
“You don’t look like a mutant.” Bucky says.
“You look like a normal human like us.” Steve says.
“Thank you, guys.” You smiled.
“Which do you have? Superpowers or abilities?” Bucky asks.
“Abilities.” You answered.
“What are your abilities?” He asks.
“I have the ability to time travel, but I don’t know how to control them.” You explained. “So now, I guess I’m stuck here.” You say.
Bucky’s and Steve’s minds are completely blown right now. They always thought that superpowers and abilities were fictional in the books they’ve read. They would’ve never guessed that they’re real.
“Do you guys believe me?” You asked nervously.
“Of course we do, doll.” Bucky smiles.
You smiled and hugged them.
A few weeks go by and you’re still getting used to life in the 1940s. Bucky and Steve are making it easier for you to adjust to this time period. Also, you’ve started to develop a crush on Bucky. Bucky has the same crush on you as well.
“Hey, Bucky. What’re you reading?” You asked, walking in his bedroom and sat down on his bed next to him.
“Reading The Hobbit.” Bucky says.
You couldn’t help but giggle.
“What’re you laughing about, doll face?” He asks in a playful voice.
“You reading The Hobbit.” You giggled again. “That makes you a nerd.” You joked playfully.
“There’s no need for name calling, doll.” He says, still sounding playful.
“What’re you going to do about it, James?” You playfully taunted.
Bucky grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap and started tickling you. You giggled and squirmed on his lap.
“Bucky, st-stop!” You giggled.
“Nope! This is what you get for calling me a nerd.” He says.
“You- You didn’t let me fin-finish.” You laughed. “I-I think you’re a cute nerd.” You say.
Bucky stopped tickling you. You laid across his lap, trying to catch your breath.
Silence filled the bedroom. You and Bucky gazed in each other’s eyes. You sat upright and sat next to him. You leaned in at the same time as Bucky. You two kissed passionately. His lips felt so soft against yours. You and Bucky were breathless when he pulled away.
“Woah…” You say, completely speechless.
Bucky chuckles lightly. He then cups your cheek.
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” Bucky asks softly.
“Yes.” You smiled.
Bucky smiles and pecks your lips a few times.
———
“I can’t believe we’re married.” You say, staring at the ring on your finger.
“You better believe it, doll. This is our life now.” Bucky smiles. “Mrs. Barnes.” He says softly.
“Mr. Barnes.” You say with a smile.
———
“Do you have to go?” You asked.
“You know I have to, doll.” Bucky whispers, gently caressing your cheek.
“I’m going to miss you.” You whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks.
Bucky kissed you softly and sweetly.
“I’ll be home before you know it, babydoll.” He whispers.
“I love you, James.” You whispered.
“I love you too, doll.” He whispers back.
———
“Stevie!” You smiled happily when you opened the door.
“Hi, Y/N.” Steve says.
You hugged him tightly. You looked outside, expecting Bucky to be with Steve, but he wasn’t which confused you.
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked, looking at Steve.
Steve looks down and sighs, dreading that he has to tell you what he’s about to tell you.
“Y/N…” He begins softly.
“No.” You said. “I know what you’re about to say. Bucky is not dead.” You say, your voice cracking.
“I’m so sorry, but he is.” He says.
“He said he’d come home to me!” You cried.
Steve wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.
“Tell me how he died.” You say.
“He- he fell off a train. I tried to get him, but he fell before I could get to him.” Steve tells you, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.
Steve couldn’t stay after that. He had to go back to the Army. You laid in bed, trying to process your husband’s death. You gazed at the picture of you and him on yours and his wedding day. Your bottom lip quivered and a loud cry left your lips. That’s when a bright light lit up the bedroom…
PRESENT DAY
The Avengers were having a meeting about the Sokovia Accords when you appeared in the room. You were on the floor, crying in the fetal position. The Avengers were alarmed when they seen you and they stood up from their seats.
“Ma’am?” Steve slowly approached you. “Are you ok? Are you injured?” He asks.
You quickly recognized that voice. You know that voice. Your crying stopped and your eyes shot open. You sat up, seeing your best friend.
“Steve?” You asked.
“Y/N?” Steve asks.
You stood up from the floor and ran over to him, hugging him tightly.
“You’re alive.” You whispered.
You and Steve stood there hugging while the Avengers stared at you two in confusion. They cleared their throats to get yours and his attention.
“Who is she, Steve?” Natasha asks.
“This is Y/N. She’s Bucky’s wife. She has the ability to time travel. She’s actually from this time period.” Steve tells them.
Tears rolled down your cheeks and your bottom lip quivered when you heard your husband’s name. Steve excused himself and took you to a different room to talk.
“I have something to tell you and it may come to you as a shock, but I’m telling the truth when I say this.” Steve begins.
You sniffled, waiting for him to continue.
“Bucky is alive.” He tells you.
Your eyes went wide.
“But- but told me he was dead.” You say.
“I thought he was, but I seen him.” He says.
“When?” You asked.
“Not too long ago.” He says.
“Take me to him.” You say.
“I will once I figure out where he is. I promise.” He says.
———
“Why did you bring me to an abandoned building in a different country?” You asked Steve.
“Bucky is in here. I brought him here.” Steve says.
You looked in the room Bucky is in, gasping when you seen Bucky. You went to run to him, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could get to your husband.
“Steve, he’s waking up.” Sam informs him.
Steve walks toward Bucky with you and Sam following behind him. You stayed hidden behind Steve. Bucky frowns when he noticed that his metal arm was wedged in some kind of machine.
“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks him.
“Your mom’s name is Sarah and you used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” Bucky says.
You smiled to yourself when you finally heard your husband’s voice for the first time in a while. You stepped out from behind Steve.
“James?” You asked.
“Doll?” Bucky whispers. “Is that really you?” He asks.
Bucky thought he was hallucinating for a second.
“Yes.” You confirmed softly.
Bucky somehow managed to get his metal arm out of the machine. He stood up and walked over to you. Steve stands in between you and him, just to be sure he was in Winter Soldier mode.
“Steve, please.” Bucky’s voice cracks and his eyes tear up. “Let me hug my wife.” He pleads softly.
Steve looked in Bucky’s eyes, seeing his best friend and not the Winter Soldier. He stepped aside, allowing Bucky to approach you. Bucky hugged you tightly. He broke down in tears and so did you.
“We’ll give you guys a moment.” Steve says.
Steve and Sam left the room, leaving you and Bucky alone. Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Your hands clutched the fabric of his henley, melting into his touch.
“I missed you more than anything, babydoll.” Bucky whispers against your lips.
“I missed you more.” You whispered back.
Bucky wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him.
“I love you so much, James.” You whispered.
“I love you more, babydoll.” He murmurs softly. “I’m never leaving you again. I promise.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head.
Just wanted to write a Gambit fic. Fem!reader is a mutant with the ability to decay/disintegrate anything she touches.
For the cajun french speakers out there, I'm so sorry for butchering your dialect. Please correct me where I'm wrong, I would really appreciate it
Everything you touch dies.
That's the reality you've known since you were five. Your very touch disintegrated anything you placed even a finger on, but no matter what you did, your powers never worked on yourself. You ran away from the piles of ashes that were once your family, straight into the hands of a group of morally dubious scientists but you didn't even try to resist. You deserved the pain, the experiments, everything that was done to you. Every test felt like penance for the blood on your hands, and you let yourself be their lab rat.
Then he showed up.
Bright pink energy sent the scientists and guards alike flying into walls where they slumped over, accompanied shortly by what vaguely sounded like French with a thick accent. You stared up at a brunette male with unusual eyes — glowing red irises with solid black sclera and he winked back.
"A perk of this job is laying eyes on beauties like yourself, chère."
"We're not here to flirt, Cajun." The burly man next to him growled, retracting what looked like long claws. "Grab her and let's get out of here."
"Non, mon ami. We must escort the pretty lady out, not grab her like uncouth men." The man with the unusual eyes bends down, reaching your eye-level. He holds out a semi-gloved hand and smiles at you. "What do you say, chère? Shall we leave this dreary place for something more…suitable for a gem like you?"
You weren't sure what compelled you to take his hand, maybe it was his smile, maybe it was the fact that no one had ever held out a hand to you ever since the incident, but just before your fingertips could brush against his skin, you recoiled, remembering what landed you in this facility in the first place.
"I'll kill you." You breathed, shaking your head desperately.
"Ain't nothin' new, chère. You wouldn't be the first one whose touch kills. It's why Gambit wears gloves."
"They're not going to protect you if some of your fingers are still exposed." You muttered, tucking your knees to your chest. The other one laughed loudly, slapping the back of the one who called himself Gambit.
"She got you good! I like her already!" He turned to look at you, flashing a wide grin. "You'll fit right in, doll. Come with us, we'll show you a place where you can stay and learn to control your powers."
That was you seven months ago. Your first encounter with Remy LeBeau and Logan Howlett, also known as Gambit and Wolverine respectively. Since then, you had become fast friends with the two, and grown especially close to Remy. His flirtatious touch and silver tongue drew you in every time you tried to pull away, fearful of what might happen if you accidentally touched him. Logan knew how you felt about your powers, and kept a comfortable distance from you even though he would always bet that his healing factor could keep up with the disintegration. You knew it was to make you feel better, but you never did.
You grew close to Anna, or Rogue as she was better known as, thanks to your mutual problem of being unable to touch others without harming them. The main difference was that if you focused hard enough, you could stop your powers from activating, something Anna was quietly jealous of, although she was nice enough to make sure it didn't affect your friendship.
The best thing to come from the encounter was moving into the Xavier mansion. You finally had a room to yourself, a safe place to learn how to control your powers, and friends who supported you. But no matter how much you tried, you could never escape the nightmares, although they were less frequent than before.
Tonight the nightmares plague you once more. You watch as your family members crumble into nothingness, their voices whispering in your head, cursing you with every word. It's nothing new, nothing you haven't heard before but it hurts all the same. This time around, Remy, Logan and Anna all make an appearance as well.
Logan's healing factor doesn't keep up with your powers like he bets and you watch his flesh slowly crumble beneath your fingers, starting from his face where your hand rests.
"No!" You try to pull your hand away but it's glued to his face. You watch as horror fills his eyes, his lips forming words that you hear inside your mind.
I should never have brought you to the mansion.
"I'm sorry." You sob. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
Flakes that were once Logan swirl around, stirred by a wind you can't feel until they form a different but familiar shape.
Anna.
Your lips open, a jumble of words rushing out but there is no sound. She looks straight at you, her gaze piercing into your soul. You involuntarily take a step back and she takes a step forward, closing the distance in a blink. Her hand wraps around your wrist and you feel your energy sap as she pulls you towards her.
"Ya a mistake, sugah. Should've put ya down when ah could."
Her words sting right down to the core, but there's truth in them. The small voice at the back of your head grows louder, hissing things you haven't heard since seven months ago, reminding you that it has never gone away. Not once, not ever.
Then something coils in your stomach, twisting and turning as it makes its way through your body. Your hands move of their own accord, forcing Anna backwards as your fingertips press against her skin. You feel your power burst forth, fighting against hers and in one rushing torrent, your mutation explodes, erasing her before your mind can form a single thought.
"No!" The cry rips from your throat. "Stop! Stop it!"
Tears stream down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you crumple to the ground, burying your face in your hands.
"No more, please. I don't want to kill anyone else." You whimper, feeling your entire body shake with fear. Fingernails dig into the palm of your flesh, drawing blood.
"Chère?" This time it's a familiar voice.
Remy. Of all people, it had to be him. Of course your nightmare had to include him.
"Don't come any closer!" You hug yourself, trying to curl up into a small ball. The floor is cold, freezing even. The only source of heat is you, and the wind that licks at your skin threatens to eliminate it.
"Gambit will respect your decision, chère, but you gotta talk to him, alright?"
You pause.
"Nightmares ain't fun, but it's no good if you keep it all inside either, mon amour."
You slowly opens your eyes and lift up your head, letting out a hiccup. Remy is sitting on the floor opposite you, hair tousled with sleep and very much real.
"You're real." You whisper. "You're not — you're real."
"Gambit has always been real the last he checked, chère." His lips quirk up into a smile. "Just as real as you."
You look away, trying not to smile back. A card finds its way next to you — a queen of hearts — as the room settles into silence. You reach out, gently touching the corner of the card with a fingertip. It flakes away into nothing and you quickly pull back, mumbling an apology.
"Gambit's got plenty of cards, mon amour. Don't you worry your pretty face." Right on cue, another card slides into your view. Yet another queen of hearts. You tentatively touch the damaged card, grimacing when it continues to fall apart beneath your skin.
"Breathe, chère. Breathe. You can do this, Gambit knows you can." The Cajun murmurs, pushing the damaged card closer towards you.
"I can't." You whisper.
"You can." Remy leans in, resting a hand on your sleeve. "You've done it before and you can do it again. Gambit knows it."
His thumb hovers dangerously close to your bare skin and your breath hitches. It's too close, one slipup and the one you love would —
"Gambit trusts you."
He raises his other hand, as if waiting for a high-five from you. Exhaling deeply, you focus, pushing back the energy that tries to break past the dam you've built. You picture walls around it, containing the force of destruction just like how Xavier taught you and feel the dreaded sensation fade into a low hum at the back of your mind. You touch one of the damaged cards, and it remains intact instead of fading into dust.
Success.
You turn to look at Remy, who has a smug look on his face that screams 'I told you so'. He wiggles his fingers, inviting you to press your palm against his. Cautiously, you let your hand hovers inches away from his, then press a fingertip against his, pulling away as fast as possible.
Nothing happened.
You let your fingertips touch again, and then Remy closes the distance, pressing his palm flat against yours. You feel his warmth, feel the sensation of bare skin brushing against yours. He doesn't let you pull away, there's no reason to stop things now.
"That's it, chère. Comme ça."
"I still don't know French, Remy." You let yourself be a little more daring and interlock your fingers with his. He grins, giving your hand a squeeze then brings it to his lips where he presses a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. You feel the energy within you stir, and your dam nearly crumbles from the shock but it holds on. Barely.
"Remy! I almost — !"
"But you didn't, chère. Gambit's still here, as whole as ever."
"I could've —"
"You have better control over your powers than you think, mon amour. You sell yourself way too short." Remy brushes a thumb over your cheek.
"Tell that to the bed I obliterated." You gesture beneath the both of you where your bed once laid.
"Tout cela fait partie du plan, chère. All part of the plan. Now you have reason to share a bed with Gambit." He winks, and you give him a little shove in the chest with your free hand.
"Remy!"
"And don't think Gambit's forgotten about your nightmare. You still need to tell Gambit what went on in that pretty little mind of yours." He gently flicks you in the forehead.
"The usual." You say vaguely, only to be met with a disappointed look.
"Gambit's going to need more than that, chère."
"I lost control of my powers and killed Logan, and Anna." You say softly. "When you called me, I thought it was a part of the nightmare and was going to kill you too."
"Ain't nobody gonna miss Logan that much." Remy snorts.
"I would."
"Tu as un coeur d'or, mon amour, but it's why Gambit likes you." He gives you a genuine, warm smile. "Don't you ever change."
"I still don't understand French."
Remy only laughs, the sound warm as it fills the room.
[WC; 2.1k] [PAIRING] Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader.
FILE 001 | FILE 002
[SUMMARY]Mutants were never seen as people by society. For years, with their heads down, they resigned themselves to their place: living in the shadows, hidden, adapting to fear. Charles Xavier was one of the first to create security and research programs dedicated to mutants. Now, though somewhat tolerated in the world, the Mutant Protection & Integration Act (MPI) law presented before Congress, has once again put a spotlight on the marginalized. Not in a good way. Things got worse when classified information about mutant individuals was leaked through the well-known Thunderbolts’ black box, an organization closely tied to the government. And it doesn’t help when they’re the ones sent to handle the situation.
[CHECK MASTERLIST FOR SETTING AND WARNING]
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters smelled like freshly cut grass. As it happened every Thursday afternoon, gardening was the activity of the day. It kept the students busy—hands in the dirt, heads out of trouble. The sun was high and steady, painting the mansion in gold, like the world outside wasn’t quietly falling apart. Children’s laughter and the distant voices of teens broke through the gentle silence of the afternoon. An almost perfect scene. Almost peaceful. Almost.
That calm didn’t fit what they were actually dealing with.The tensions were rising, louder and heavier by the day, and every time someone stepped in to “help,” they only made it worse.
Promises turned intro discontent. Compassion led to disappointment. Diplomacy? Just a pretty word for control.
“They’re here.” Peter muttered, mouth full of peach. A buzz filled the air, and just like that, he was there again, as if he had never left.. He sounded like he couldn’t care less, like nothing ever really got to him. But she knew him. She’d seen him at his worst, been with him when everything went sideways. When the jokes stopped being funny and the silence hit harder than any punch. She knew the weight he carried. He was drained. Just like everyone else around here lately. Pretending they were fine because someone had to.
Nova glanced over her shoulder. Even though she couldn’t see the main entrance, she could feel it in the air, more than just a premonition. It wasn’t just in her mind, and it wasn’t only because Peter called it out first; it crawled through her nerves, prickling like static electricity under her skin. A pressure.
Her mutant senses sharpened that very moment, every shift in the air around her. Around everyone near her. That pressure wasn’t just discomfort, it was a warning. Like an invisible thread tugging at her spine, demanding attention before anything even appeared.
Beast peeked through the patio door, glasses a little crooked, face tired.
“Please don’t leave me alone for this.” he said in a voice caught somewhere between pleading and resigned.
The three adults began walking. They left the older teens in charge of the younger ones. A normal routine in any other context. But not at that moment, not when their greatest concern was keeping every young mutant under constant watch, fearing something might go wrong. Fearing they might fail to be there to protect them.
With every step, Nova felt a tightening deep in her chest. It wasn’t fear, or nervousness. It was profound fatigue. Exhaustion. That same tense atmosphere clung to her like a heavy cloak. She had no desire, none at all, to deal with these people. But Charles wasn’t present, and someone had to hold the house together. For now, that someone was them.
As they reached the front of the house, the six outsiders were stepping out of their large armored truck, lining up before them almost like a choreographed routine, something rehearsed. Fake. None of them seemed particularly interested in being there. She noticed it instantly. This wasn’t a friendly visit. It was a forced formality. And yet, what bothered her most wasn’t that. It wasn’t the lack of empathy radiating from them. It was the way their eyes lingered on Hank more than on her or Peter, a look caught somewhere between curiosity and judgment. As if they were trying to classify him, but couldn’t quite recognize who he was, or maybe, to them, what he even was.
A broad, tall man wearing a ridiculously flashy red suit was the first to speak.
“Wow… you must spend a fortune on shampoo.”
His voice rang out with fake charm, like he thought he’d just cracked the best joke ever. Nova blinked, stunned. She closed her eyes and sighed, barely holding back from opening her mouth, the sting of humiliation twisting in her gut. How long were they supposed to take this? To be treated like a joke for simply existing? The man let out an exaggerated laugh, clearly pleased with himself, while the blonde woman next to him sighed and looked away, clearly uncomfortable. Hank said nothing. Neither did Peter. And that silence spoke volumes.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s an embarrassment” muttered the woman closest to him, the edge of her accent sharpening every word.
The man snapped something in Russian, sharp and dismissive. Yelena snapped back in the same language, her tone sharp, fed up. Bucky Barnes stepped forward then, breaking the tension with a quiet gesture as he extended a hand.
“Bucky Barnes. I’m sorry about all this.”
Hank looked at the extended hand, then met his eyes. For the first time, he opened his mouth.
“We don’t shake hands here.”
Peter snorted, poorly disguising it as a quiet laugh. Nova didn’t need to look at him to know the exact smirk he was wearing, but she did anyway. A brief glance. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed.
Behind them, a group of children crossed the doorway, slowing to a halt as their eyes landed on the unfamiliar faces standing beside their teachers. Nova gave a small wave, calm but firm. The kids didn’t say a word. They didn’t need to. They ran off the moment they understood.
Barnes lowered his hand without a word, curling it into a fist. He didn’t push it. He understood this wasn’t about courtesy. They weren’t here to make friends, this was protocol. Diplomacy, even “Tech support,” as they liked to call it.
“Welcome to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters,” Nova said, offering a dry smile that didn’t reach her eyes “we didn’t think we were important enough for the feds.”
She scanned their faces. Nothing. No flicker of empathy. No curiosity. Just cold professionalism wrapped in apathy. Like they were standing there out of obligation. Standing there because someone told them to.
And how many times had they already seen that face? That sterile, distant stare of the bureaucrat who shows up to deliver orders without knowing the land they’re standing on. Without knowing the names of the children who sleep behind those walls.
Nova felt it in her chest, tight in her throat, hot beneath her skin. That quiet, festering indignation. Their life was at risk. Their freedom.
Barnes began, carefully picking his words.
“This is strictly for gathering intel and finding ways to cooperate. We’re not here to cause more trouble-”
“-than the trouble that’s already happening.” she cut in.
For the second time, Bucky clenched his fist.
This time, Peter didn’t hold back a short laugh.
The school was magical, literally and figuratively. Sunlight poured through the tall windows in warm, bathing the halls in warm, gentle beams. The scent of aged wood and damp plants lingered in the air. It felt like a place suspended in time. But it was their time. Earned through effort. Through pain.
A few children darted past them. Nova reached out, her hand resting softly on the arm of one.
“Emma, could you please let the Cerebral Speleology class know that it’s canceled today? Have them return to their rooms right away, please.”
Emma looked back at the adults waiting, then returned her gaze to Nova.
“Yes, Ms. Nova.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
And just like that, she was gone.
Nova loved teaching, it was the one thing that gave her life meaning, besides protecting the world. For years, she had wandered lost and alone, searching for answers. For years, she had wandered through shadows, lost and alone, searching for answers she couldn’t find. It wasn’t until Charles found her that she finally understood she wasn’t broken, just different.
Growing up in the ’70s, being pushed aside simply for existing had left deep scars. For so long, she wished she could disappear. But now, she had found something precious. A place to belong. A cause worth fighting for.
When they reached the meeting room, the door closed softly behind them. Most of the group settled quietly around the long table—everyone except Nova, Barnes, and a woman who had yet to speak. The woman’s gaze was distant, as if her thoughts were far away, lost in a place no one else could see. Mentally absent.
“Nova,” Barnes said.
His voice cut through the quiet like a sharp blade. Peter turned his head to look at her. It wasn’t a name she used every day, only when it truly mattered.
“The Winter Soldier,” she replied, her voice steady but distant. Bucky straightened his back “though I believe you don’t go by that name anymore”
“I don’t.”
“Good for you.”
Silence settled over the room.
Hank looked like he was about to speak, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. A buzz. Peter reappeared, another peach in hand, his eyes flickering between the strangers and his friends as if they were contestants on some ridiculous reality show.
“Are you going to explain how classified mutant data got hacked, transferred, and leaked through your black box?” Nova asked bluntly, no beating around the bush.
“It wasn’t us,” Barnes replied. “we think someone used an old Hydra source to connect archived files to a dormant cloud server. We’re working to clean up your mess now.”
A beat.
“Our mess?” Nova didn’t raise her voice.
Peter choked on his fruit.
“Do you know what happens when stolen, classified data about mutants ends up in the hands of a federal black box, Congressman?” She took a step closer to the table “Kids disappear. Safehouses get burned. Homes like this. Our people die. Our future vanishes. So, with all due respect, I don’t believe this is ‘our’ fault.”
Barnes stared back, motionless. But he was listening.
“We’re not your enemies.”
“Then take a look at who’s above you. What system you’re part of.” She exhaled sharply through her nose “I thought you, more than anyone, would understand that.”
Bucky clenched his teeth, jaw tight with frustration. Every word felt like a reminder. Of who he was. Of what he had done. Valentina hadn’t warned him he’d have to endure being lectured by someone who barely knew him, as if he owed them an explanation for a past he had already paid dearly for.
Nova began circling the table. A blond man stood abruptly, his body tense, ready to challenge. She didn’t stop.
“They’re trained to eliminate us. Like we’re a plague.” She spat the words with venom, nodding toward the man in uniform, the one with the curved shield. The fake Captain “I’m not going to pretend that a new title erases that programming.”
The air grew thicker around them. It wasn’t just a feeling, it was physical. The atmosphere thickened and pressed down on their lungs. Magnetic waves seemed to pulse with her anger, vibrating through the room. No one dared to speak, the silence stretching longer with each passing second. The weight of unspoken words and rising tension settled heavily on every shoulder. Everyone felt heavier. More uncomfortable. Nobody dared speak.
Face to face with a congressman who, on camera, “defended” mutant rights, but now stood in their home, washing his hands of it all.
“If you don’t have anything useful to say, I suggest you leave.”
She cast one last glance at her friends and walked out of the room, fast. Because if she stayed, she might say something she’d regret. She didn’t even bother to say goodbye to the others. None of them were worth it.
She couldn’t let them wave a flag they didn’t truly represent.
Couldn’t let them pretend to fight for a cause they didn’t live.
All she wanted was peace.
Peace for mutants.
Her room was right next to Peter’s. At this point, they didn’t bother knocking anymore.
After all they had been through together, countless battles, painful mistakes, shared tears, it was pointless, almost meaningless. They knew each other’s presence was constant, a silent comfort in a world that often felt unstable.
Peter walked in, this time holding a donut.
“Fuck or kill, now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” she replied without looking up.
“The congressman. Barnes.”
“I’m gonna put him to work. For real.”
“Oh you wanna fuck him. It turns you on.”
“Do you ever stop eating?” she finally said, glancing at him. He shook his head with an innocent smile.
“Thank my genes… but you didn’t answer me.”
Just hearing it irritated her.
“You’re delusional.” she said, sitting up abruptly “Did you not see how he acted today? He’s a total arrogant prick. Who does he think he is, coming in here pointing fingers when he’s the one who kil-”
“You think he’s hot. And you wanna fuck him.”
She sighed and flopped back onto the mattress.
“You’re impossible.”
“When you’ve got little baby congressmen crawling around, you’ll remember this. And I’ll say: I told you so.”
And the worst part? He always said that.
And he was almost always right.
She just hoped, prayed, that this time, he wasn’t.
Summary: Y/N needing comfort after a long day and Logan being a carrying husband. Making sure his wife got all the love she deserves after a tough day.
Lost of fluff and use of multiple nicknames (Bub, kitty, Kitten).
Husband!Logan x Wife!Reader. Reader is a snow leopard mutant/hybrid in this, other feline creatures are possible too.
Note: happy New year everyone!! (This was totally not posted on accident). The little poem at the end is from the book 'Pillow Thoughts' by Courtney Peppernell.
Words: 2097
Pictures and art from Pinterest, credits to the artist. I just put it together.
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Today wasn’t the greatest day, everything just seemed to go wrong. The children were louder than other days, the noise being a bit too much for Y/N’s sensitive ears, but she was going to finish her lessons. Already looking forward to cuddles in the nest with Logan after dinner. Needing her hubby for comfort, wanting to be wrapped in his arms and sent. But that sadly had to wait for a bit, only two more lessons to give and then she would be done.
“Next slice, please, Kurt.” Y/N said before Kurt tapped the laptop for the next slide of the presentation. “And here we see a painting of heterochromia. See how the artist put detail into every little coloured dot on the eyes.” Y/N explained as she looked at Kurt, giving him a little sign to put on the next slide. Until one of the teen’s put up their hand. “But miss what does this have to do with art?”
“Good question, Alice, we are going to try and paint something as close to it's real life counterpart. Get it to look as realistic as you can, put in details that someone might not see at first. You can try to use different perspectives, see it in a different light and color. Just put on canvas what you see as best as you can.” Y/N explained as she showed the children a piece of art she did showing the beauty of something small yet so bright in color because of the lighting, in this case Beast's blue fur. “And if this doesn’t work for you, then do something else, be creative but keep the overall details in mind, it doesn’t even have to be big. Just paint or draw what you see.”
With this the children went to work on their art as Y/N left the classroom to get a cup of tea and a few moments alone. Of course giving a few students the job to keep the others in check. Not wanting to come back to a destroyed classroom.
Standing in the kitchen as the kettle boiled, thinking about how she could make it to the end of the day without feeling too overwhelmed. Unconsciously rubbing the ears on top of her head. Her tail moved around nervously in a way to try and calm herself down. She was so deep in though she didn’t even notice Logan slipping his arms around her waist.
“What ya thinking about, bub?” He asked, making Y/N jump out of her thoughts. “Just what I have to do to survive the rest of the day.” She answered while leaning back against Logan, her tail going around Logan's leg to ground herself against him. “Awh, is my kitty a little overwhelmed and overstimulated?” Logan asked with a small smirk on his face. Which made Y/N grumble a bit in answer, knowing the tone in her husband's voice all too well. She reached up to grab her teacup from the cupboard.
“How about I join you for your lessons, that’s your last lesson of the day, right?” Logan suggested after kissing Y/N’s shoulder. Wanting her to know he was there for her, even in her overstimulated situation.“No, have one more after this one, but you don’t have to join me, you have your own classes.” She answered. Putting her tea bag into her cup, putting in the boiled water right after. “I finished for the day.”
“Really? Owh, yeah, it’s wednesday.” Y/N realised as Logan took her mug, starting to lead Y/N back to her class, his hand on her lower back, just above her tail. Just a little bit of comfort he could offer her. “Come on love, after classes have ended I'll cuddle with you.” Logan promised with a smile on his face. “In the nest?” Y/N asked, giving Logan big kitten eyes. “Yes, in the nest, bub.”
Logan stayed by Y/N’s side as she helped the children with their art and taught the next class. He didn’t say a single word, he just looked grumpy with his arms folded over his chest and his feet on the desk. Some of the children did see a small glimpse of a smile on Logan’s face when Y/N looked back at him while she explained something about inspiration and making art about the things and/or people you love. Logan’s gaze made a few of the children giggle, and some of the girls just wished someone would look at them like how Logan looks at Y/N. He just really loves his wife and it showed.
If Logan could make art like his wife, he would make art about her, show her how he sees her every day, how beautiful she really is. Bring out her best features, her glowing eyes, her hair and those fluffy ears. That idiot tail that always found a place around his leg or her legs and the thighs he loved to nap on when he allowed himself. Sadly no one would ever see the way Logan sees Y/N since he sucks at art and photography doesn’t do her justice.
After classes had finally ended for the day and the kids had left the classroom, Y/N sat down in Logan’s lap and let out a sigh. “Good job, bub, you’re done for the day.” Logan whispered into Y/N’s ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Gently holding onto her as she lay her head on his shoulder. “Yeah… Now I want to go to the nest and cuddle, I really need cuddles right now.” Y/N responded as she buried her nose into Logan’s shirt, his scent calming her down a little. “And I could really use some dinner and a good drink, right about now.” She added. “Then let’s get you some dinner first, get you in the shower after and then we can cuddle in the nest.” Logan answered, taking charge. He knew exactly what Y/N needed when she was tired, so he was going to take care of her.
Logan wrapped Y/N’s arms around his neck and her legs around his waist before standing up from the desk chair. Holding her close to him, as he carried her. “What do you want for dinner?” He asked after getting out of the classroom and into the hallway. “Pasta, the good one.” Y/N answered. Logan grumbled a bit as Y/N answered, he knew which pasta she wanted. The only problem with this was that he didn’t make the pasta the way Storm made it. So he only had one choice, hope that Storm was making dinner tonight and that it was the pasta Y/N wanted and that she wouldn't get overwhelmed even more if it wasn’t the pasta she wanted. Y/N wouldn’t but Logan just wanted his wife to have the pasta she wanted.
As Logan carried Y/N to the kitchen, some of the children ran past the two. Also going to the kitchen for dinner. Bickering with each other about what they thought they were going to get for dinner.
When Logan walked into the kitchen with Y/N he saw that it was Jean and Scott by the stove. Logan groaned a little when he found out it wasn’t Storm who made dinner. “What are you two making?” Y/N asked Jean as she looked over Logan’s shoulder, not really minding that it wasn’t Storm making dinner. "Lasagne." Scott answered, putting more sauce in the dish. Logan sighed in relief, lasagne was pasta too, that was good.
“Yeah, and we have garlic bread on the side and some salad if you want to be healthy.” Jean continued Scott's answer. “It will be ready in about forty minutes.” She added, already have read Y/N's thoughts about how long it was going to take until it was done. Y/N groaned but accepted It would take a little more time. “Logan? Can we shower now instead of after dinner? We have the time.” Y/N asked Logan, actually liking that they had time to shower now instead of after dinner. Logan nodded his head and took Y/N to their room after telling Jean and Scott they would be back for dinner.
Some of the children in the kitchen grumbled that they had to wait almost an hour before they could have dinner, not liking that dinner was later than usual. Not really caring that some of the adults had a mission or other adult tasks to do which made them start on dinner a little later.
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Once in their bathroom Logan sat Y/N on the counter next to the sink. “Need me to shower with you, love?” Logan asked between gentle kisses on Y/N”s head. “Yes, I would like that, please.” She answered to which Logan nodded. “Alright, let me get some fresh towels and then I'll help you undress.” Logan said as he whipped underneath Y/N’s eye, brushing away some sleep. He stepped away from her and started to grab enough towels. Y/N on the other hand wasn’t really patient and got off the counter, already undressing herself and putting her clothes in the laundry. She made her way to the shower and turned it on, waiting for the water to become the right temperature.
“Hey, I was going to do that for you kitten.” Logan laughed once he saw his wife already undressed and underneath the warm water of the shower. He placed the towels on the heater next to the shower before undressing himself. “Just wanted to be in the shower already.” Y/N explained as she appreciated the way Logan was undressing. Logan rolled his eyes playfully. “Such an inpatient and naughty kitten.”
Y/N gave Logan a tired smile as he got into the shower with her. Placing her right hand onto his chest. holding back the desire to just press her face into his pec’s. Logan placed his own hand over Y/N’s, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. He looked down at Y/N, seeing just how tired she really was right now and how much the shower was helping her relax. Not a single word needed to be said between them. They just showered in the comfort of each other, Logan helping Y/N was her hair, ears and tail before she helped him wash his. After doing the whole shower routine Logan just held onto Y/N for a few minutes, just letting her know he was here for her, letting her lean on him. Telling her he loved her and other sweet nothings.
Getting out of the shower was difficult, but it happened because tummies started to rumble. Logan helped Y/N dry off and got her into some comfy clothes, his shirt and her favorite comfy pants. He dried her hair and fur, brushing it after. He got some comfy clothes for himself before looking at his watch. “Dinner will be ready soon, bub.” He announced. “Okiedokie.” Y/N answered as she reached out for Logan’s arm. Holding onto him as he led the way back to the kitchen. Logan was secretly liking how clingy Y/N was right now, she usually is when tired, but now she was just a little extra clingy and he loved it.
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Dinner was nice, a bit loud because of the inpatient and hungry kids, but the lasagna was amazing so that fixed everything for Y/N. They stayed a little longer at the dinner table for ice cream and talked about everything and nothing. Well it was mostly Logan and Y/N listening to the other, but they didn’t mind, it was nice to listen every once in a while. After dinner Logan carried Y/N back to their room. Gently laying her down on their nest, laying down next to her after she was settled. Logan made sure Y/N was tucked against him, holding a plushie he gave her for their first anniversary. Warm covers and blankets over the two of them before he kissed her head. “Sweet dreams, Love.” He whispered before watching her fall asleep. She was clearly too tired to stay awake to long for the cuddles she wanted.
Logan admired Y/N for a few minutes, looking at her fluffy ears and her cheeks. The way the bedside lamp made her face glow. She really was the prettiest thing he had ever sat his eyes on. “Of all the maps in the world, the only one I will follow is the map to your heart.” Logan whispered against Y/N’s forehead before leaving a kiss. He turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. Happily falling asleep in their nest, letting the comfort and warmth take over.
