Please, when u have the time, more Pietro stuff 😭😭😭 ur writing for him is excellent and I need more!! Headcanons, stories, idc I just need more Quicksilver written by u.
Enemies to lovers!Quicksilver/GN!reader - pt 2
Here's part 1
It's finally here!! I'm sorry if there are any spelling mistakes. Also, I think the ending is probably the most dialogue heavy scene I've done so far, and I'm not entirely happy with it, but i wanted to post this so bad!! I might go back and edit later though. Hope you all enjoy!!
TWS: Fighting, passive aggression, full on aression kinda, logan is a worried asshole big brother, Professor X watching his tragedy not quite repeat. Pietro is kinda an ass but he's a broken ass so its okay.
You and Pietro had a weird relationship. And it seemed to just spiral into even weirder territories and murkier waters. Each and every interaction tiptoed into something a little more than just enemies, and one night you think the two of you fully crossed the line. You were sure of it, and it was just the start.
You’re finally starting to fall asleep when there’s a sudden whoosh of air and grunt of pain. It startles you, and you sit straight up in bed, leaning over to flicker on the light. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Pietro standing by the window, hunched over in clear distress.
“Pietro? What are you doing here?” You ask, But he doesn’t respond. His suit is ripped and bloody, and various deep cuts litter his skin. You swear he’s about to pass out as he stands in front of you, swaying just a little like he did on that day at the beach. Whatever fight he had just been through, it had taken a little more out of him than that fast metabolism could heal so quickly.
“Are you okay?” You ask, wide-eyed at him. Pietro grimaces in a way that looks more angry than it does pained, and yet he still says nothing. Unable to deal with the idea of admitting he needs help, you assume.
He’s sitting on your bed now, naked from the waist up as you stitch his wounds. He’s been silent the whole time, only offering a wince or grunt every now and then with particularly tender wounds. Right now you’re on your knees as you stitch up a rather deep cut on his upper side, his arms keeping his balance as he leans back on your bed.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask eventually. Pietro’s chest pulls on the stitches just a little as he huffs in annoyance, regretting the action a moment too late.
“If I did, I would be.” He snaps. You raise an eyebrow at him as you begin a new stitch, piercing the skin perhaps a tad less cautious than you had been before.
“Take it easy, speedster. ‘Last time I checked I was the one with the needles in my hand.” You snark. Pietro has nothing more to say to that, instead turning his head away so that he doesn’t have to look at you. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s a bit embarrassed at this whole situation, and you feel a bit bad for him. Out of all the places he could have gone to, there had to be a reason he chose to come here. You just couldn’t tell what that reason was.
You’re gentle while you finish wrapping him in bandages, and he can’t seem to look you in the eyes even for a second. When you reach out to brush some dirt off of his face, he finally meets your eyes. He’s a little less guarded than he was before, but the wall between the two of you still remains. There's a quick gust of wind as he moves towards the open window, stopping just before he leaves.
“...Thank you.” He says after a moment, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You smile at him, a warm feeling in your chest. The difference in his attitude was noticeable, and the fact that he was acting even a little less cold with you was reassuring.
“You’re welcome.” You reply, and then he’s gone again, having closed the window behind him this time.
The difference between the two sides of Pietro you saw was so jarring. You were so used to the cocky asshole that spent all his effort in terrorizing you, not the quiet, almost angry, and guarded man that stood before you that night- and the many nights afterward.
The second time he showed up, this time woundless and simply laid on your bed to rant, you were surprised but didn’t mind it. Then it happened again, and again, and then came the board games, the nights of talking endlessly, and the midnight snacking.
And eventually, Pietro started to climb into your bed. He never spoke a word when he did, simply pulling back the covers and pulling you close, pressing his face into the back of your neck. Nights like this were vulnerable, and tender. Quiet. He came to you in need of comfort often, and you were willing to be his safe space for as long as he wanted.
The more he came to you, hurt or angry or sad, the more concerned you became. And you were upfront about it, much to his dismay.
“You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask, late one night after he had crawled into bed by your side. You were facing him, hand curling on the pillow an inch away from his face, fighting the urge to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.
“The last thing I need is for another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he sits up and runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to reach for him, but you don’t.
“Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.
“Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off. His tone is sharp, and it hurts you for a second. You frown at him- not that he could see it anyway, and the hurt quickly turns to aggravation on your end.
"Yes, it does. I'm not bossing you around, I'm just telling you that the X-men- myself included- are here if you need any help." You huff, watching as he practically rolls his eyes at you and stands, looming over the bed as he turns to look at you.
"The telling part is the problem. Everyone tells me that I could do something, but what they mean is that I should do it." He snaps. You move over to his side of the bed before standing, almost in a challenge. The two of you are now almost uncomfortably close, to the point where you’re sure if you moved an inch your noses would be touching.
"Well, What if that's not what I’m doing but you're just reading it that way?" You say, meeting his gaze. Pietro was never one to back down from a confrontation, especially not one with you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this angry at you before, rocky past be damned.
"So you’re saying I'm overanalyzing?" He says, and you groan at the fact that nothing you said was getting through to him, pushing the palms of your hands into the outer edge of your eye sockets.
"I'm saying that I'm not your dad-"
"And what would you know about my family?!" Pietro yells, and you’re quick to look back up at him, scowling.
"Don't raise your voice at me!” You snap, pushing a finger into his chest. “I know enough to know that your dad controls every aspect of what you do, and that's not fair to you." You tell him.
"Don't pretend that you understand or care about any of that" Pietro says, grabbing ahold of your hand rather tightly. God! You did not understand why he couldn’t get it through his thick fucking skull!
"I do care, Pietro!" The words burst out of you, almost uncontrollably. You slam your other fist into his chest, tears of frustration welling in your eyes as you look at him. His eyes are wide, looking shocked and confused. You’re beginning to lose your fight, leaning against his chest, still somewhat caught in his grip despite the fact that his hold on your hand had become light, and still, it felt confining.
"I may not understand why you do what you do, but I do care about you." Your words come out quieter this time, blinking away those stupid tears that had started to well. Pietro’s eyebrows are furrowed, eyes searching your own, but you don't know what for. The two of you stand there for what feels like forever for both of you speedsters, but was surely more like a split second. You’re still pressed up against his chest, faces so close they could touch.
And then they did.
Pietro is the first to kiss you, leaning in and quickly cupping the back of your neck with his free hand, almost in a possessive manner. Once his thoughts have finally caught up with his actions, he pulls back. He looks at you, wide-eyed at his own actions before you gently pull him back in for another kiss. It only takes a moment to click before he sighs into you, melting into the kiss. His kisses are tender, sweet presses of his lips against your own. After a few long moments, you slowly pull away from him. He rests his forehead against your own, a fond look in his eyes that you were sure you mirrored.
From that night on, his nightly visits to you meant something more than they had in the past.
That didn’t mean that they went unnoticed by others, however, and one day you found yourself being called into the professor's study. Of course you were a little worried, but you were so sure that there was no way anyone could have noticed, right?
Logan is standing next to the professor's desk when you enter the room, frowning with his arms crossed. Professor Xavier on the other hand sits rather calmly, inviting you to sit down. You choose to stand instead, cocking your head at them.
“Wow. What is this, an intervention?” You joke, trying to laugh off the oddness of the situation.
“Yup.” Logan snorts. You shoot him a confused and slightly panicked look that the professor picks up on immediately.
“There’s no need to worry, my dear.” The professor says calmly. “We just had a few concerns about-”
“We know that Magneto’s brat has been sneaking into your room.” You almost flinch at Logan's accusatory tone, bristling with a sudden flash of embarrassment and then anger at him for what he calls Pietro. “I’ve been smelling his scent on you for weeks.” Logan finishes, and you’re so taken aback you don’t know what to say at first, mouth hanging open in shock.
“Easy, Logan.” The professor says, raising an eyebrow at the furry man, but Logan isn’t listening, approaching you with a scowl on his face.
“Have you ever heard the phrase, no fraternizing with the enemy, kid?” He continues, and the close contact has you bristling again, unwilling to back down.
“Logan.” The professor tries again, unsuccessfully.
“Look, the first time he came to me he was injured. I wasn’t going to turn him away.” You finally say, fists clenching as you ignore Logan before looking back at the professor instead.
“I understand that. In fact, I’m thankful that you could be so forgiving towards Pietro, despite the past the two of you share.” The professor states, but his words hardly relieve you.
“Then what is the problem?” You ask, exacerbated by this whole interaction already. Logan seems to be angry that you’re ignoring him but snorts at your question.
“-The problem is that you shouldn’t be letting him in your knickers.” You gasp at Logan's accusation, and the professor looks appalled.
“Logan!” Professor X scolds as you struggle and scrabble for words, now both embarrassed, mortified, and rather flush in the face.
“-Excuse you! We weren’t- we’ve never!” It’s a struggle to finally find your words, and even more embarrassing to be so caught off guard. What kind of asshole accuses someone of that out in the freaking open?! In front of your mentor no less?!
“Sure you haven’t. That’s why your bed doesn’t smell like him.” Logan rolls his eyes, and you refrain from punching him in the face right then and there.
“Well if your stupid nose was as good as you say it is, you would know that we haven't done anything just by the smell!”
“Just because it hasn’t happened now-”
ENOUGH! Both of you! The professor silenced the argument with a single thought. Both you and Logan feel scolded, and yet still bitter about the other. You cross your arms in a bit of a defensive manner ad the two of you turn back to face the professor.
“This was never supposed to be an argument, simply a conversation.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. You scoff at that, sending a pointed look in Logan’s direction.
“Well maybe, Logan should learn to stay out of my business!” You say, only for the professor to hold his hand up for you to stop, simply hoping both you and Logan would quit continuing to dig this hole deeper and deeper.
“I’ve heard enough.” Professor X states. “We were simply concerned about the nature of the relationship between the two of you, seeing that you have been growing closer. I know your mind, and I trust you to stay by the X-men’s side.”
“Then what is this?” You ask, the words coming out as more of a whisper. Logan sighs, looking regretful but ever the stubborn ass. He looks at you, moving to where he can lean against the professor’s desk again.
“... Look, Kid. we just don’t want you to get hurt. Anything between you and Pietro isn’t going to end well.” Logan says. You feel a little more understanding of him now, but only a bit, with him back to acting like he normally did. He was always an older brother figure to you, but that did not give him the right to air out your business, even if the professor could find out everything that had been happening with the barest glimpse into your mind. Still, you scowl just slightly at Logan, looking away from him. He sighs again, and with a nod from the professor, leaves the room. The professor nods you over to his side, wheeling his way towards the bookshelf with one particular photo on it. One of him and Magento in their college days.
“You are an adult. I cannot stop you from making your own decisions.” The professor starts. You find yourself tracing the features of the young Erik, finding the image of Pietro in every part of his father's face. The professor looks at you, and all he can see is a face so similar to his own. “I too, understand what it is like to hold affection for someone so distantly aligned from you. It’s due to that understanding that I worry for you. I…” The professor trails off and you turn to look at him with a frown. You knew. You know. The two of you are so different from each other, but surely that didn’t mean you would be enemies forever? He wouldn’t hurt you in the way that Magneto had hurt the professor so many times before… would he? Professor Xavier reaches out to take your hand in both of his own, squeezing it reassuringly.
Writer’s Month Prompts (written for @writersmonth )
Day 17 - Ice (Romy - WatX)
(**Note: While I wrote this I had my story “Proceeding According to Plan” in mind, so there are a few references to the way that story played out.**)
Rogue was going to kill Bobby. Kill him dead. Then, she was going to resurrect him and kill him again just to make certain he learned his lesson.
Don’t talk to her about reasonable. There was nothing reasonable about this situation. They’d left reasonable three days ago. A thick layer of ice encased the Mansion all because Bobby wanted to see how far he could push his powers. Instead of stopping when things didn’t go as planned, he doubled down and kept pushing. Only Bobby would think that more ice was the solution to too much ice. Apparently, he could freeze things, but unfreezing them was beyond his capabilities. Now, all they could do was wait for the ice to melt.
Shivering, Rogue clutched another blanket tightly around her shoulders. Rogue hated the cold. And that’s all she could feel, thanks to Bobby. A cold which seeped into the very marrow of her bones and bit to the quick. She wore every item of clothing she possessed and it still did nothing to dissuade the chill
Her teeth chattered. The heater couldn’t keep up with the cold which permeated the inside of the building and what little heat they managed to secure was directed to the room where they kept the Professor’s body. They’d run out of firewood after the first day and had no way of going outside to gather more. Since none of the others felt the cold as intensely as she did, it was up to Rogue to find ways of staying warm. So far, her attempts had been less than successful. Her hot chocolate rapidly became tepid chocolate, and now as her chattering teeth rattled against the side of the mug, she sipped ice crystals.
None of the X-Men currently occupying the Mansion possessed the means to escape. Bobby—the cause of their problem—only made things worse when he tried. The entire foyer had become a slip and slide before they convinced him to just stop already. Emma couldn’t think her way past the blockage and wasn’t going to risk chipping a nail. And while Hank and Rogue could attempt to brute force their way through the ice, they first needed to be able to access the ice. Which remained problematic in that all the doors and windows held fast. Not only had the ice jammed all points of egress, it had also blocked their means of communication with the outside world. Now all they could do was wait until the other X-Men returned from their missions.
Not for the first time since the Great Freeze did Rogue wish could have been on the mission with the other X-Men. Wherever they were had to be warmer than here. But, Wolverine still didn’t trust her after her time with the Brotherhood. If he did, she could have joined the mission and missed out on all this fun.
It wasn’t her fault the Brotherhood was the only Mutant organization which had the access to the information she needed when she arrived in New York. Until very recently, the X-Men hadn’t been a credible option since before the explosion. Sure, she could tell Logan about Ellie. If he knew, he might even forgive Rogue for her actions. But, she didn’t exactly trust him either. He had the habit of judging people before understanding a situation, then stubbornly holding to his opinion even after learning he was wrong. Also, he never addressed his tendency of running off whenever he felt like it. With those attitudes, this wasn’t the kind of world she wanted to introduce to her husband or daughter.
Burrowing back into the nest of every blanket in the house she’d managed to beg, borrow, or steal, Rogue checked her watch for the umpteenth time. It wouldn’t be much longer. She’d missed her check-in. In fact, she was over twelve hours late. Which meant she missed spending time with her husband. Missed checking in on her daughter. Her absence wouldn’t go unnoticed.
As if he read her mind, a loud crack sounded outside her window. A flash of light illuminated from behind the curtains. Shuffling out of her blanket cocoon, Rogue crossed the room to her window and threw open the drapery. A spiderweb of cracks crisscrossed the thick layers of ice blocking the the window. She heard a faint scrabbling from the other side of the meter thick blockage.
A shadowy silhouette wedged thin, flexible objects at key points within the cracks. Rogue backed away as another loud bang practically shook the dorm wing of the mansion. It was accompanied by a lurid fuchsia glow. When the ice shards settled, the scrabbling resumed. The patterned continued—an explosion, a clearing of icy debris, followed by another explosion until the ice layer was only a few inches thick. Eventually the amorphous shadows took on a distinctive shape. A very welcome form. Her husband.
When there were more cracks than smooth ice covering the window and filtered sunlight lit the room in broken patches, Rogue attempted to force the window open. It creaked and groaned in protest. Undeterred, she continued to muscle the stubborn frame open a few inches. Gambit plucked away shards of ice until he could curl his fingers under the frame.
It shuddered, then gave, sliding open another inch or so, before sticking fast and refusing to budge again. Warm air slipped into the room in a valiant attempt at clearing the pervasive chill. For the first time in days, she felt the initial inklings of warmth. And not only from the summer air.
Working his way back down the ice covered wall, Remy peered into the room. Rogue knelt before the window and slipped her hand through the window and entwined her fingers with his. Even through the layers of gloves, Remy’s natural body heat seeped through the layers of gloves and sent prickles of warmth into her chilled skin.
“Hello mon coeur. I was wondering what kept you. Though I wasn’t expecting quite this much of a cold shoulder.” While he made an effort at keeping the cheeky inflection to his voice, deep lines of concern was etched into his face. “I was afraid they decided to keep you prisoner again.”
“Not this time. At least not on purpose.” Rogue squeezed his hand. “Do you think you can get me out of here?”
“Oui. Your wish is my command.” Remy tapped along the window frame from the outside and cleared away more slivers of ice. “Think it needs one more round of explosives, then we’ll be able to free the window. Mais, it’s probably going to also blow out the glass. You should take cover.”
“Okay.” Rogue backed away from the window and returned to her nest. She pulled a blanket over her head and waited for Remy to work his magic.
A chain of explosions blasted through the last layer of ice. As predicted the glass shattered. What didn’t disappear in a flash of fuchsia and dust, scattered across the floor in glittering shards. Warmth and freedom at last.
Rogue shucked off her extra layers of clothes. Before opening her door to allow the summer warmth to combat the freezing house, Rogue grabbed a piece of paper and jotted down a quick note.
“Gone to warm up. Be back soon. ~Rogue.”
Surprised that the other X-Men hadn’t already come in search of the ruckus, Rogue hurried to the window. Remy helped her avoid the jagged glass as she climbed out. Balancing half against her husband and half on the ledge of broken ice, Rogue clung to his side to keep from sliding down the side of the building.
“Hold on tight.” Remy pressed a quick, searing kiss to her lips before repelling down the building with the aid of a climbing ropes.
Once they were on solid ground, Remy swooped her up in his arms. With his face buried in her hair, he asked, “What do you want to do now?”
“Let’s go back to your apartment. I want a hot shower and a warm body in my bed.” She snuggled up against his side, luxuriating in his warmth.
“I believe I can help with that.” Remy grinned as he led her back to his motorcycle parked down the road from the Mansion. “How about I promise to keep you all toasty and you stay with me until all the ice has melted.”
“Sounds like a deal, swamp rat.” Rogue rested her head on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
A remake of a pic I did almost 12 years ago. https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Beast-Hug-138546053
But I had been getting an urge to redraw it, and the other day I found a few hours of my time to draw this new one out. :) I think Beast came out pretty cute.
Hank has upped the ante with his hugs, much to Logan's dismay. lol Though Hank feels that one day Logan will stop fighting it and will come to appreciate his hugging methods. XD Not likely as Hank not only uses this to try to cheer Logan up, but also to persuade him to re-stock the mansion's Twinkie supply. There's no escaping the Beast's tight tickle embrace. XD
Too lazy for a background though. Well the original didn't have one either. lol
Link to this pic on my DA account: https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Beast-Tickle-Hug-885156518
Do you think Warren’s dad will be supportive of his relationship with you? I feel if you’re a mutant he’ll side eye you and make microaggressive comments
I've spent a lot of time thinking about this!! even before you sent the ask lol. tbh I feel like it depends when it comes to being a mutant.
As a baseline, he's not going to be super supportive if your are from a low/lower middle class home. The worthington's are allllll about pedigree. Why would he want his only son to be with someone who would tarnish the bloodline? Now, If you happen to have really good manners and are very polite, he will end up liking you a lot better, but in a sort of "They're surprisingly proper for someone so low class." way. It's all about what makes him and his son look good.
When it comes to mutations, if you don't have a visible mutation, he will be slightly more prone to approving of the relationship- but even then that depends on how outward you are about being a mutant. If you have a physical mutation on the other hand, he will not approve of your relationship with his son no matter what, unless he has a breakthrough and realises just how much his son loves you and how much light you bring into his son's life, but even then he will still have his prejudices.
I'm a Sociology minor with an absolute love for the concept of intersectionality and I so wish someone with marvel would release something about how intersectionality effects the lives of mutants.
Ngl I’m here imagining the rest of the brotherhood (Toad, Blob, Avalanche, Domino) just there waiting bc their leader’s secretly screwing one of the X-Men 😭😭😭
NO BUT SERIOUSLYYYYY.
Like the main idea behind having him appear at the mansion and then continue to show up was that he keeps getting way over his head and doing stuff for magneto that was way too risky to win his dad over. The first scene was supposed to be like him having a fight with his dad or Wanda and then feeling pushed aside and insignificant once again, he goes to the one person he *thinks* might help him (and obvs you do.) And that he just continues to do it the more and more tense things get with his dad bc he just doesn't want to go anywhere else.
Obviously the Brotherhood notices his absences. Maybe not toad or blob, but avalanche and domino start to notice after a while. They don't go out of their way to figure out where he's going (at first) but they obviously spot the fact that he's not going out of his way to torment his favorite fishy anymore.
Now even though the basis of the nightly visits is because Pietro doesn't want a soul to know where he's going, all I can imagine rn is him pulling a "Wait here, I need to handle some business" moment and disappearing and leaving them in the middle of a mission or something. Everyone is waiting around for him and he comes back like two hours later CLEARLY in a better attitude and a lot less pent up and agitated. People start to raise eyebrows and take bets. Domino places a crack ass bet that he's hoooking up with one specific x men and everyone else thinks she's stupid.... until one way or another they end up spotting him climbing out of the mansions window and the boys are slack jawed. Domino got like 200 bucks that night.
Pietro just white-knuckling it as the Brotherhood half-assedly gives him “The Talk”. The only reason he hasn’t left is because he knows if he zooms off, they’d have won: They know he’s sprinting to go complain to his new paramour. …But god, he’s not sure how much more he can take from hearing Mr. No Bitches (Toad) prattling on about how the bedroom should be the one place Pietro doesn’t go fast in.
Meanwhile Domino goes for the jugular and asks, “So do you let her use you like a vibrator or?” She doesn’t actually want the answer, but the look on Pietro’s face is priceless.
THIS IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKIONBG THING UWGVXHGWVXJHS
Toad giving everyone unwanted bedroom advise HAS to be canon at this point. He has absolutely no clue what he's talking about but that wont stop him from telling everyone under the sun what he thinks is good advise.
...Adn Domino? she just really likes to see Pietro squirm.
question that you don't need to answer! It's not exactly a request (and if it comes off as one sorry!🙏), but im just curious, do you have any plans to continue the quicksilver enemies to lovers dynamic you did? it's always been one of my favourites, and the recent drabbles you did it with have got me drooling, man 🧍♂️
love your writing if it wasn't obvious!! Good luck with anything you've got going on 💫
Thank you!!! And also, yes! I've had a part 2 for that one planned for like two months now lol. and since it's wednesday, I went ahead and added a little dialogue WIP for that one in particular!
“You know, I get that we’re on two different sides of things- but you know that the school’s doors are always open to those who need it, right?” You ask. Immediately, he has a negative reaction to it. He scowls, recoiling away from you as he glares. You know it should hurt worse than it does, but all you can see is the hurt he's feeling right now.
“The last thing I need is for yet another person to tell me what to do.” He snaps, turning his head away from you as he runs his hand through his hair, aggravated. You sit up on the bed a little further, almost wanting to stand and reach for him, but you don’t.
“Pietro, You know that’s not what I meant-” You say, softy.
“Does it matter what you meant?” Pietro practically cuts you off.
