Face-sitting and sex are the best ways to get rid of stress!
⋆˚꩜｡ Gambit/Remy Etienne Lebeau x fem!reader (18+)
After an annoying mission, Remy takes it upon himself to make you feel good in the best way a boyfriend could!
CW: sex, cursing (duh...), face-sitting, p in v, insinuated squirting lol??, reader has a cooch, not proofread, I also don't speak French AND this might be ooc
I had to add marvel rivals gambit in honour of me lording him
1.8k words (I'm thinking of posting about lin lie too soon :p)
The mission your group had to abandon abruptly drained you along with Cyclops and Storm. How did the first member of this group basically become the most annoying and whiny person, as the leader? You have no clue. It’s beyond you. You had to hold yourself back from screaming. Not even yelling anything coherent, just screaming a high pitch in pure frustration, enough for a dog's tail to start wagging.
Getting back to the mansion was the biggest wave of relief you felt after that failed mission, Scott just had to snark out, “Nice job with not letting the perpetrator run off.”
“Oh yeah, because you were so quick to catch him after pleading with me to help you with the second idiot.”
“Obviously you were supposed to restrain him before coming to help me.”
With gritted teeth you hold back whatever you had to say as Ororo jumps in, “hostilities shall not help us after a failed mission,” she diplomatically soothes, “I suggest rest and relaxation for the remainder of the day.” Her voice remained serious and she placed a hand on both of your backs, before removing it and proceeding further inside.
In an attempt to resist further bickering, you walk off, your steps ringing loudly as the only way to release anger until you turn the corner and bumped into a strong wall. Well— ‘wall’—it was actually Gambit.
Gambit, your smug looking boyfriend. Gambit, who’s perfectly dressed in his usual ensemble of purple and whatever brown trench coat. “Welcome back,” he says simply, leaning against the surface and grinning down at you.
When you don’t respond, his sharp smirk softens into a concerned smile, “now, I know that look all too well. Wanna tell Remy what’s going through that pretty head o’ yours?”
You could hardly muster anything in your frustration, simply leaning against the wall with him and your arms crossed under your chest.
“Frustrated, chère?” He prompts for an answer, and he’s delighted when he’s at least met with a nod.
His smugness finally returns as he leans down to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck, making goosebumps flick up, “I know a way you can release all that pent up frustration, all ya gotta do is trust me…”
That’s how you find yourself sitting in bed.
Correction, Gambit laying on the plush bed you share and you found yourself sitting on his face.
Sure, you worried about practically suffocating him, but he assured you that if he died this way, he’d die a happy man.
“Remy, this is disgusting. You didn’t even let me shave or shower!” You glare down at him as he eyes the full expanse of your pussy including the unkept state of it, wettening his lips.
“Now mon ange, Gambit don’t care about a little extra something added to his favourite delicacy…” he playfully quipped before he brought his broad hands to your ass, slamming your bare cunt onto his face.
You yelp at the sudden tug down, imagine how embarrassing it feels to have melted so easily to your boyfriend simply licking your pussy. You don’t even realise when you slid your hands into his wavy hair and tugged, clenching with your life as he eats you out like it’s his last meal before going onto death row.
He held onto the meat of your thighs, groaning with every pulse of your pussy on his tongue and his bulge ached in his pants. However, your frustration also manifests into jumbled words, “that idiot—expects me to fucking do everything—shit, yes…everything and yells when I can’t do a billion things at once!”
Gambit hums, sending vibrations through your soaked pussy, flicking his tongue inside and nudging your clit with his nose.
You continue angrily, “that self-centered bitch! Fucking hate Scott—just like th-that, Remy…why is he the leader? Anyone else would be better—”
“Shh…don’t wanna hear another’s hommes name in bed, chère. More specifically while I’m eating this pretty pussy” his eyes seem glazed over, more obviously so in the black scleras, as he looks up at you through his lashes, “your legs make good ear muffs for me, but you’re a hell of a loud talker when you’re mad.”
With a simple grunt, you grind down on his tongue in retaliation, your aim being to shut him up. You hump his face by this point, painting him in a mix of your juices and his spit, to him this is the best elixir in the world as muffled, satisfied moans erupt from him. He couldn’t resist reaching down, palming his own throbbing cock that started to form a wet patch, all from eating your pussy.
Meanwhile your head was tilted to face the ceiling with your eyes eased shut, “Remy, holy shit..”
“Gonna cum on me? Montre-moi (show me), ma belle…”
You didn’t need to be told twice. With a moan ripping out of you, you slam your hips onto the man’s face below you. His hands grip your ass with a pleasured moan, kneading the cheeks as he gulps down the gushing liquid coming out of you.
It wasn’t until your fatigued form lazily lifted off his face, did he heave several breaths of air after constantly breathing the scent of your natural husky scent.
As a parting ritual from your pussy, he kisses your clit, enough for you to huff of playful lack of amusement and shuffle off of him, sitting on the bed next to him.
He looks fucked out, like unbelievably fucked out as he sits up with a dazed frog-like blink and a dopey grin.
“You look stupider than normal” you comment teasingly, flicking his forehead. A chuckle comes out of him as he catches your wrist with a broad hand and kisses your palm, and hums “peut-être (maybe)…mais, you do look happier, chère. Much, much happier…”
With a smug look he glances down at the tent in his pants, “you can always go for a ride, y’know?”
“If I ride you now while in this pissed off, I think I’ll break your dick off”
“Then break it off, it’s all yours anyway.”
The bedframe rattled against the wall, slamming just as your hips did on his cock. You can’t give all the credit to yourself, Remy’s hands are on your waist, lifting you up and pushing you back down as he grunts, smirking at the sight of your more relaxed expression.
“Fuck, Remy…”
“Uh huh?”
You lean forward, pushing him back on the bed as your hands plant themselves on his chest for support, bouncing up and down, and the ample amount of squelches from your greedy pussy rung out like a siren to Remy.
His admiration is unmistakable in the way his eyes twinkle, looking up at you, “That’s it, show Remy how much you love riding him like a personal dildo,” he breathes out, one hand planted on your slap warmed ass. You glare down at his snarky look, and your hips stutter, “Oh, I’m being mean to mon fleur for making you do all this work, no worries then…”
He flips you both around, your back hitting the mattress, and you cringe briefly at the dampness from the previous face-sitting, which he can’t help but tease you about as he thrusts his cock back into you. “Don’t go lookin’ so disgusted, that’s all from that pretty, needy pussy” he states matter of factly, he then hilts himself completely into you, forcing a surprised “Oh!” out of you, hardly pulling out, but pushing deeper into you with the thick appendage feeling stuck in your throat that all you can muster is a “Fuck!”
He places your legs on his shoulders to rest on; simultaneously, he thrusts, stroking himself against your gummy walls, miraculously hitting the star igniting spot repeatedly that you can hardly keep yourself quiet, gasping out, “Oh, you son of a bitch!”
“Aww, pretty woman gets some lovin’ and can only insult her man? That’s ok, let it all out…”
His words are so sweet and gentle, but his thrusts are so deep and aggressive, forcing the frustration of the mission out of you any way he can. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your head falls back, and mouth hangs open as his cock continues its punishing pace.
“Remy makin’ you feel good, chère?” he asks playfully, giving a parting kiss to your calf, before wrapping your legs around his waist, he grins when you nod vigorously.
The thrusts continue, filling the room with the sound of wet claps as he eases himself down even further, his body pressed down chest to chest with yours and his hips continue snapping up and down, bullying your cunt as his balls slap your ass with every back and forth motion.
After finally getting used to the change of pace, your arms wrap around your boyfriend's neck, and the ever perceptive–and ever teasing man–has to question, “Finally get your bearings, ange?”
“You talk too damn much…” you breathe out, the knot in your stomach inching closer and closer to unravelling entirely as the deep rubbing of his cock against your poor cervix, “keep fucking me. Cum in me, fuck me stupid, baby…” you whisper in his ear as you trail your hands along him, one in his hair and the other along his upper back that you were clawing at.
He doesn’t need to be told twice!
His hips snap with renewed vigour as plapping sounds ring louder, the wet slaps miraculously caused by no lube and only the mix of your slick and his precum. His mouth shoots down, latching onto your perked nipples, and his tongue runs along, flicking it up and down before sucking and releasing with a pop.
“These sweet beauties are good, ain’t nothing sweeter than this pretty pussy… or that ass…” he grins at the fucked out expression on your face and the way your eyes widen. You don’t have to even say a damn thing for him to know that you were just about a thrust away from cumming.
When you do release, your body shudders, pussy pumping and clenching Remy’s cock so hard he finally lets out his own series of incoherent moans in harmony with yours before smashing your lips together. He pushes his cum deep into you, and wickedly smirks at the ring of white wrapped around the base of his softening cock when he pulls away from the passionate kiss shared.
He doesn’t move yet, just looks down at you with the same smug look, “say…I could help you get cleaned. Need another seat again? Right on your favourite throne, ma reine (my queen)?” he wags his brows
Your chest heaves and you look up at him, “smart Cajun..” your voice teases him as you contemplate the prospects of sitting on his face again.
You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:
So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.
NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader
Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :)
Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.
Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE!
TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.
You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.
You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.
Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.
Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?
Maybe not.
Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.
“Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear?
oh.
Oh.
You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.
You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.
First thing you do? Go to the store.
It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know?
So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is.
You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you.
You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.
It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan… His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.
Holy shit.
Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.
You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him.
You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway, waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.
“Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?
“Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.
“What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.
“What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.
“Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing.
“Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.
“Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.
“It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield.
“Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.
“I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed.
“Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.
“Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it.
“No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.
“Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession.
“...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.
“Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.
“You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night.
He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.
“...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.
“Fuck”
You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.
You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.
“Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed.
He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.
“Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.
“Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face.
“Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.
“Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit.
“Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so.
“Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can’t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it.
“Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.
“Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down.
You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.
“Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.
“...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.
“Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream.
“Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.
“I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.
“Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.
Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right.
Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.
“Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you.
“Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.
His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again.
You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.
Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.
“Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.
You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter.
Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.
“Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.
The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?
“Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.
“Tell you what?”
“That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.
“Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.
“You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.
“You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”
AN: While sick these past few weeks I binged all the X-Men movies. I’m late to the party I know. But I absolutely fell in love with Charles and Erik, and was shocked I couldn’t find many reader fics with them. Let alone poly fics. So I wrote this absolutely self indulgent and slightly pretentious fic to try and quench my thirst. Warning this is absolute filthy garbage, and normally I try to stay kinda gender neutral but when i say self indulgent. I mean it. Also first three way I’ve ever written.
Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader x Erik Lehnsherr
Warnings: BDSM eliments, pre-established relationship, fem pronouns and pet names, rough sex, poly relationship, mlm, p in v sex, oral sex
Summary: Charles and Erik have their own ways of making up for their absence.
Moments like this were greatly cherished by Charles. Where the sun had long dipped below the horizon and the thoughts around him quieted. Charles flipped the page of the novel, something french Erik had recommended, taking care not to disturb you. The weight of your body pressed into his lap and chest as you slept, soft breaths ghosting across his throat while he reveled in the peace. Times like this he wished would last forever, they wouldn’t, he knew. But they were the simultaneous reward and motivation for the chaos of your lives. Between saving the word and rearing the future faces of mutants, this comfort was often few and far between. Making every second sweeter than the next.
Charles and Erik had been gone to D.C for weeks, peace summits and meetings that would nearly bore you to death. So he hadn’t been surprised after the ‘welcome party’ had let up and he’d finally dropped onto the couch with his book that you had soon crawled into his arms. He wasn’t surprised when you dozed off either. Charles was aware you never slept well alone. He felt guilt at the thought, even if you never complained. Though he couldn’t deny the enjoyment of you soft and dozing against him like a kitten.
Normally, Charles would’ve heard Erik coming from a mile away, but with his body and brain lax. The voices barely a murmur in his mind; he didn't look up until the bedroom door creaked open. Erik smiled, a beautiful and blissful smile. Cheeks a bit flushed from the wine he’d shared with Raven over dinner. A lovely sight to behold. Charles truly felt spoiled in that moment.
Erik took his time removing his blazer and unbuttoning his top, assessing the scene in front of him. Charles lounging, book dangling loosely from his fingers while you snored quietly astride him. A wonderful nightcap, he thought. Charles smirked as it passed though his mind.
“Such an alluring woman in your arms and you just allow her to sleep?” Erik tisked as he deposited himself beside him. Stretching his long legs and rolling his shoulders.
Charles hummed, eyes falling back to the novel. “She was tired.” He did his best to ignore the impure thoughts flowing from Erik like waves, as well as the heat from his love in his lap. It was always a game, Erik plucking at him, nudging him, pushing his control with every weapon in his disposal to undo his control. And Charles played along, even if he knew the end result would always be the same. Nowadays he even prefers it to chess. You, their darling, always the most exciting wildcard. Sometimes you’d follow along, tease him as ruthlessly as Erik. Others you’d be in nearly the same place as him. But most often you were the desperate deciding factor that never failed to undo both of their facades. You never had much patience and it was hard not to give in when you begged so sweetly.
Erik leaned over, his cologne invading Charles’ senses as he plucked the book from his hand. Tossing it onto the coffee table even as Charles huffed. Erik managed to catch him by surprise with a gentle kiss, brief but he felt the tension gather regardless.
“She never minds.” Erik spoke against his lips, seizing the opportunity to pull you into his own lap. Charles rolled his eyes at his antics, hearing your displeased moan as Erik settled you to his liking. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open. Dazed and a bit annoyed at the disruption, only to smile lazily when you saw the cause of it. Erik nuzzled into your sleep flushed neck as you gained your bearings. Nose nudging the, collar, necklace he’d gifted you. A reminder.
“Hi,” Was all you managed. You hadn’t seen much of him when he returned with Charles, allowing Peter and Raven to have their fill of his attention. He always made it up to you.
“Hello, angel.” Lips quirked as he pulled away from your skin. “Charles here was just chastising me for wanting to wake you, but I’ve missed you so much. You don’t mind, do you?”
Lazily you rolled your gaze towards the aforementioned man, his exasperated expression cluing you into the nature of the moment. Lifting your legs into his lap you drew your foot dangerously close to Charles’ fly. “No, never. I’ve missed you too.” Adding a, “Both of you.” As you cheekily pressed down on the growing bulge. Charles’ was always easy to wind up, though you never blamed him. Having the dirtiest of their lovers' fantasies projected into one's mind would drive anyone mad. Though, he could give as good as he got.
“That’s my girl,” Erik laughed before pulling you into a kiss. Quickly becoming heated as his hands slipped under the oversized t-shirt, one you couldn’t remember who you stole it from. It never failed to make you feel absolutely spoiled when you weren’t the victim of the teasing. Either side was wonderful but how could you not enjoy the devoted attention?
You shifted to straddle Erik the moment his lips give yours reprieve. Knowing this would further frustrate your other lover. His tongue and teeth were relentless on your shoulders and neck, pooling heat between your thighs. Feeling a bit mischievous you met Charles’ eyes, rolling your hips and huffing out noises in a more exaggerated manner than necessary. The widening of his pupils and darkening of his expression were more than enough reward for your antics.
“Naughty.” Uttered Erik, returning his gaze to Charles as well. “Since I so rudely interrupted you, why don’t I take our girl to bed and you can finish your book. How does that sound, love?” Holding eye contact with the irritated man even as he spoke to you.
You pulled back to lift your top over your head with a sigh. Charles would most certainly make you pay for this later. “Sounds wonderful. You know how much our dear Charles appreciates his… personal time. Don’t stay up too late Char, I’m sure you’re exhausted from the flight.”
With a wink, Erik lifted you as he stood. Hands gripping your bottom tighter than necessary while you giggled. He answered the sounds with a harsh swat, quickly crossing the room to the bed. A gentle toss had you bouncing on the sheets, playfully wiggling as Erik admired your nearly nude form. Sitting up you crawled towards him, knowing behaving was the best course of action to get what you wanted from him.
“May I please undress you, sir?”
“Such manners tonight. Yes, you may, angel.” He smirked, both of you making a point to keep your attention on eachother. Undressing Erik was as exciting now as it had been the first time. Every button popped sent a rush between your legs. The desperation to feel his skin against yours nearly causing you to just tear the garment apart but you steadied your breath and went on. It was always sweeter when you took your time. The moment he could let the shirt slide from his arms you sent a focused image of what you saw to Charles. Your fingers on Erik’s belt, the forming bulge, his heat flushed skin and the absolute sinful look on his face. You knew Erik would be doing the same, the devious man he is.
Eriks pants were pushed down easily leaving you eye level with your prize. Fingers traced the outline of his cock through his underwear and you kissed across his stomach. He allowed it for a moment, letting out a heavy breath and running his fingers across your scalp. Suddenly his hand clenched and he was once again out of your grasp as he wrenched you away.
“Hm, darling, I’m quite sure I gave you permission to undress me. Not to touch me.” You looked up at him through your lashes, despite his stern tone his expression was amused.
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve just missed you so much-” The necklace around your throat tightened and you were pulled back onto the bed suddenly. The edges were rounded but the force of his abilities were noticeable. His expression of strength never failed to make your sex throb, gripping the sheets while you waited for his next move.
“Always such a desperate whore, no wonder you need the two of us. Now, were you good while we were gone? Did you keep your pretty hands to yourself? Hm, Charles?” Finally you both turned to face the telepath. He was a sight, cheeks pink, brows pinched and thighs spread. You’d suddenly regretted not taking the opportunity to ride them earlier, beginning to become desperate for some contact.
Painfully slowly Charles raised his hand, two fingers meeting his temple as he stared back at you. Giving your best doe eyes you waited for him to deliver your verdict.
Charles inhaled deeply, you knew he’d come across the memories of how close you’d gotten to breaking their rules. The absolutely sinful thoughts you’d had. With a flutter of his eyes and a sigh, he spoke.
“She behaved.”
Erik chuckled, “Learned your lesson last time, didn’t you baby?”
“Uh-huh.” You smiled sweetly as he pulled the rest of his clothing off. Excitement building, knowing soon you would finally get what you needed.
You were aching, the full weight of their gazes had you nearly on edge. Erik took his time climbing onto the bed and between your legs, gently running his fingers from your knees to hips with a look of consideration.
“I think, since you’ve done so well for us, that you deserve a reward. Do you?” Erik twisted words, you knew one slip up and you’d be across his lap. Normally that would be fun but you hadn’t been lying when you said you missed them.
“As long as you believe I do.” You managed, praying truly submissive was what he had in mind.
Erik snorted, leaning to press kisses down your chest and across your breasts. “Right answer, darling, correct.” You arched into him, the wet heat of his tongue heaven against your aching nipples. Attempting to press your thighs together was futile, Erik’s waist preventing any relief. His mouth soon moved down your stomach, irritatingly skipping your center in favor of biting your tender thighs.
“Please, sir. Please! I’ll be good, I promise I will. Please just… I need,” Your rambling cut out abruptly when he ripped your underwear from you and latched onto your clit like a man starved. Suddenly, noise, let alone words, seemed impossible to produce. You merely tossed your head onto the pillows and held on for dear life. You wanted to twist your fingers into his perfectly styled hair, you wanted to hold him to you with your legs but you’d promised to behave and you would. You would do anything to keep this absolutely magnificent man’s lips on your cunt.
A shallow groan caught your attention, dimly aware of your surroundings as Erik absolutely devoured you. Lifting your head slightly you saw Charles. Now gripping himself through his slacks, watching your every move. You imagined the two of you were a sight, especially from his vantage. Almost feeling jealous of his position. But before the thought could fully manifest, Charles pressed his temple again.
The third person view of one of the most powerful mutants between your thighs and yourself arching and writhing against him, cast in your brain. You nearly screamed. A broken moan leaving you instead, Erik’s own groan vibrating on your slit let you know he was privy to the same vision. You watched helplessly as Erik rolled his hips into the bed, wondering if Charles had bested him tonight. Though the notion abandoned you quickly when Erik thrust two fingers into you, tongue fluttering against your clit while simultaneously tightening the metal around your throat.
Being good was nowhere on your radar as your hands shot to Erik, gripping his hair and locking your thighs tight around him. Regardless of your interference he worked you though your high like it was his only purpose.
As spots started to invade your vision he finally let up. The collar dropping loose and mouth moving to press kisses across your pelvis. Dizzy with pleasure but still frantic for more you yanked on Erik, pulling him into a messy kiss. Sucking your own taste off his tongue. You swore you could feel Charles in your mind, feeling what you were, his arousal was palpable. Though, you knew you heard him undo his pants and at last, grip himself.
In an absolutely disorienting motion Erik flipped you onto your stomach, raising your hips. You knew he was done with the games. Your last thought being that as he thrust himself inside you without warning. With no time to adjust he began a brutal pace, teeth nearly rattling as you cried out. Scrambling for purchase, anything to ground you as he slammed harshly from the start to end of your pussy.
“Always so fucking tight, so wet,” Erik was snarling now, lost completely to his own lust. “This is why we keep you, this is your purpose.”
Anything past Erik inside you was null. Nothing mattered, thoughts completely blank, save for the vicious pleasure radiating from between your thighs.
Probably why you didn’t perceive Charles in front of you until he hooked a finger in your collar and harshly commanded your attention. He kneeled on the bed, pretty pink cock in hand. Reflexively you opened your mouth wide, tongue out, to which he moaned. Pressing himself forward with the same need you’d felt this entire time.
“Such a good girl,” Charles’ touch was tender even if his pace was not. Praising you as his length pushed past your gag reflex. Further exacerbated by his unwillingness to loosen his grip on your collar. “Always so good for us.” He muttered. Images of Erik and yourself flashed through your mind, as well as the sloppy kiss shared by the men over you. You surrendered yourself to the sensations and before you knew it you were tightening around Erik.
“That's it, c’mon, make a mess on my cock. Be a good girl and cum.” Erik’s voice combined with the loving look Charles gave you sent you over the edge. Clawing at his pale hips and screaming around him.
The wonderful taste of Charles finding his high followed soon after. Erik took a moment longer, slamming against you before he reached his. The tightening of your collar prefacing him, though you weren’t quite aware anymore. Floating on endorphins.
By the time you truly came to, Charles was tucking you in and curling around you. Muttering to Erik to ‘Hurry up’. The second he realized you were back he smiled.
“Welcome back, love,” You answered him with a smile settling into the warmth of his chest. A gentle as always, yours and Erik’s port in the storm. You could hear the latter puttering about, before he slipped under the covers.
“Mm,” He hummed, nuzzling into your hair and joining the tangle of limbs. “I wasn’t too rough was I?”
Even if he tried to mask his meaning with his playful tone you could hear the concern dripping from his voice.
“You were perfect. I love you.” Your voice was scratchy to even your own ears but both your men just held you tighter.
After all, there was no way to ignore it when you looked like him, all green skinned and floppy boned and yellowed-eyed and all that.
Freak.
It had been screamed towards him enough times for it to be tattooed on his brain at this point, the word echoing out in his memory anytime he caught even the smallest glimpse of his reflection. Freak, freak, freak!! Or maybe weirdo or loser, maybe even pathetic! Pathetic little monster!! Yeah, he’d heard it all at this point in his life.
And he tried to just laugh about it.
The self-deprecating jokes and sad little stories told only in jest...Todd had been laughing at his own pain for years and years in order to mask the hurt and, sometimes, people laughed with him.
‘Cept for you.
You never laughed at that stuff. At first, Todd thought that you just didn’t like him and, well, he wasn't surprised at the thought of it. ‘Cause you were just so damn pretty and pretty people never liked freaks him...they looked down at him, laughed at him instead of with him, mocked him, crossed the street when they saw him hoppin’ their way, yeah, but liked him? Nah! Todd was so sure that you hated him a little bit, just like everyone else. But over time, he started thinking otherwise.
‘Cause sometimes you laughed.
When he poked fun at Peitro or pulled pranks with Fred, you would giggle at the antics. When he told one of his genuinely funny tales, you would laugh as much as the others.
And you talked to him a lot, asked him questions.
About what he was working on (and he liked talking about his mechanic work, no one ever asked about it), what his life had been like, what book he was reading right then. You always seemed to seek him out and ask him something...he spent days and days just waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for you to ask him for something. But you never did.
Most of the time, when people were nice to him, they just wanted something...but all you seemed to want was to talk for a while.
You even sat next to him.
Most people wouldn’t really get too close to Todd, making some quip about his smell or something like that. But never once did you complain, always taking a place at his side on long rides to some mission or crammed in some tiny booth in a dumpy diner somewhere off on the highway, always talking to him about, well, whatever. He didn’t always care much about what you were talking about (though he held onto anything he managed to learn about you and any little compliment you sent his way, clutching onto it for all his life was worth), Todd cherished the moment. The warmth of your body so close to his, the sound of your voice, your presence was what he really loved.
Todd just couldn’t seem to figure you out! And the more he tried, the more he thought about you...the more he liked you.
Loved you.
Fuck that!
He’d liked, even loved, people before, that never turned out well for him. Rejection was a bitter taste on his tongue that he would never forget and how could he? Closing his eyes, he could see those pretty faces twisting into expressions of disgust, hear that cruel laughter ringing through the air, the answer was always the same, always no way, no how, no chance on earth!
Freak!
Loving you so much was a bittersweet thing.
A touch of sugar on his tongue when you leaned so close to him (did you know how good you smelled? Did you know that the brush of your hair on his cheek made his heart race?) or smiled at him (how come your smile was so pretty?) or complimented him (his work as a mechanic, his skills on the field, a particularly good quip). His heart would beat, beat, beat so happily, so wildly! Todd would be smiling all day because of you, lost in honey-sweet dreams until the second that it came to him. Bitterness. It soured his dreams, morphing them into a heart-wrenching nightmare.
Disgust, laughter, cruelty, rejection!
He could see you laughing at him, sneering down at the toad as his heart broke into a million pieces once again.
Freak!
So he tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore you. Maybe if he swallowed those feelings they’d melt away bit by little bit. Maybe feeling nothing was better then feeling something. Safer. So he began avoiding you, bolting away at the slightest hint of your presence...he even ran off a few times, staying away for a couple of days before crawling back as always. But you always seemed to find him, seeking Todd out no matter where he had hidden himself from you. It made his heart race and break all at the same time when you asked him to come back, to come home.
Just like right now.
The rain was soft, that kind of light drizzle that had sunlight spilling through it. Sitting on the ledge of some long-abandoned building (he wondered what it had once been, who had once filled it), Todd let the cold drops fall over his green skin, relishing in the feeling of it.
And then you found him.
He heard the falls of your footsteps as you wandered through the streets, your voice echoing through the chilled air as you called out for him.
“Todd!”
And there he was.
Looking up at him, Todd fought the urge to fall into your arms...but it was getting harder to fight, wasn’t it? The more he knew you, the more he loved you and the more he ran from it, the harder it felt to him. Yellow eyes flickered towards you, giving him the sight of your pretty eyes, so filled with worry.
“Todd, come on home.”
“Why?” He spat.
“Fred misses you and I-”
“Why are you doin’ this to me?!”
Leaping away from his perch, Todd landed in front of you with a heavy thud upon the earth. Dirt flew up around him and settled slowly, his eyes flashing from warm yellow to a blazing red as he surged forward.
“It ain’t fair!” Todd spoke, almost snarling then speaking really. “Mockin’ me like this, givin’ me a taste of something...something I know I ain’t ever gonna get! Makin’ me think, even for a split second, that somebody could love me...ha! I mean, look at me! LOOK AT ME!”
He was ranting and raving now, hands gesturing wildly as words fell from his lips in a torrent of pent-up emotions. Pacing around, Todd kept catching glimpse of you and, oh, he both adored and despised it! Turning away, his voice weakened to no more then a wavering whisper, so quiet you almost couldn’t hear him.
“How can anybody love somethin’ like me?”
“How can anybody not?”
He stopped.
Stopped speaking, stopped moving, almost stopped breathing. With his back turned towards you, Todd couldn’t see what you were doing. But he could hear you moving closer, coming forward...he felt you take his hand and he winced, ashamed of your pretty skin touching his but, oh, it felt so good! Fingers curled around your own and he savored this, holding on to this sweet little piece of you as tightly as he could.
“I know you’ve been hurt.” You whispered. “You laugh about it a lot but...I see the pain. The sadness. I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it too. So I know that maybe you don’t love yourself but, Todd...I love you.”
“How?” He rasped, turning to meet your eyes.
He was crying now, something he was embarrassed to do in front of anyone (but especially you), but right now he didn’t care. The tears fell freely, mixing with the raindrops that still rolled down his face. You were holding him, soft hands brushing against sickly-pale skin so sweetly.
“How can ya love a freak like me?”
“You are NOT a freak,” you insisted. “You are funny and smart and kind. You are Todd Tolensky and I love you.
And then you were kissing him and, for a second, he was stunned.
Nobody had ever really kissed him.
Not knowingly. Not willingly.
But somehow here you were, seeing him for all that he was and...kissing him the way he’d always wanted. And then he was kissing you back, hands wrapping around your waist and holding you so tight he thought you might break into pieces. He had dreamed of this. When he was laying alone in bed or sneaking glances at your lips, Todd had thought about kissing you. What it would feel like, taste like, oh, how perfect it would be! That had been just a dream...but this was real.
You.
Him.
It was better then all of his midnight fantasies put together, sweeter then anything he’d ever felt...and all without a hint of bitter between your lips. Breaking the kiss for a moment, Todd found himself hungering for more. But you didn’t go far, lips just barely ghosting over his own as you whispered to him,
“Todd...come home with me.”
“Okay.” He whispered. “Okay.”
And he would. But right now, he just wanted to kiss you and hold you a little bit longer. And to his delight, you wanted it just as much, kissing him as deeply and as sweetly as he kissed you.
Maybe, he considered, maybe everything was going to be okay.
Prompt: You’re a mutant working with Charles Xavier. Peter notices you ignoring him and is determined to change it.
Warnings: language, as usual
Words: a lot
Note: I haven’t actually seen any of the newer X-men movies. I’m most familiar with the comics so this isn’t set in any specific time. It’s more just in the Xmen universe in general. (Also I’m high, so sorry for any and all mistakes.) ALSO, sorry for the long-winded introduction of the character. It doesn’t even matter to the plot. I just thought it was a cool idea.
You shut the door out of Xavier’s office as gently as possible while trying not to draw attention to yourself. The nature of your agreement with the Professor was one of utmost secrecy, although you didn’t really believe it was necessary.
Your mutation was not physical and you couldn’t create or control anything like Storm did weather and Pyro did fire. But what you could do was understand. Languages, specifically. It had developed in high school while taking foreign language classes. Suddenly, no matter how difficult the material was your mind would automatically translate it.
Xavier wanted to test the limits of the mutation and had started introducing ancient and alien languages. The foreign symbols did not translate when you first looked at them. But after Charles explained some basics of the language, your mind was able to create the rest and translate it.
Charles maintained that if the truth of your mutation were to become more publicly known than the information could fall into the wrong hands. Alien technology was extremely dangerous, especially in regards to DNA tracking. Which meant anyone who wanted to exterminate mutants was determined to get the tech.
You weren’t so convinced. There were so many other, easier ways to accomplish their goal. But you agreed to keep your head down and tell anyone who asked that you carried the mutant genes but hadn’t developed any powers. It was a believable enough explanation for working with Charles so often.
—
This whole keeping-your-head-down thing wasn’t working quite as well as you had hoped. In fact, it had attracted the attention of the campus flirt, who you often avoided purposefully.
—
It had started two weeks after you had first arrived, while you were sitting in a common room. Peter had sped into the room, immediately draping his arm around his friends and reciting cheesy lines to. No one took him seriously, it was just the way he was.
When he noticed you, Peter appeared sitting next to you in a moment. He leaned in close, a crooked smile on his face as his eyes peered into yours. “Is your power illusions, because I like what I see.”
“It’s not.” You stated, moving your head ever so slightly backward.
“Guess mine.” In a flash, Peter appeared across the room, casually using Ororo as an armrest.
“Moving too fast.” You offered with raised brows.
Peter appeared immediately in front of you. You were an inch apart, so close you couldn’t help but get lost in his dreamy eyes. A rush of heat rose to your face as your heart sputtered in your chest.
“Just fast enough.” He poked you square in the forehead before disappearing in the blink of an eye.
You were left there, utterly unable to move as you stared at the empty space where he was a second ago. You had had a feeling even then that he was going to be trouble.
—
After your initial meeting, you had avoided Peter as much as possible. You’d purposefully avoid where you thought he would be and would retreat from anywhere he appeared. The only problem was how dreadfully obvious you were about it.
As soon as your eyes met you would look like a deer in headlights before turning starkly around and exiting without a word. It usually caused any others in the room to laugh or feel secondhand awkwardness.
This only seemed to make Peter more determined to get your attention. Sometimes he would yell “HI!” across the rooms, other times he would appear beside you.
“This whole mysterious act really works on me.”
That was the issue! Why did he have to make your heartache and your hands shake whenever he appeared beside you. Initially, you had tried to blame it as a fear reaction to his sudden appearances. But one day you had looked for him, deliberately, as if you wanted to see him.
The realization that you had developed a stupid, silly, minuscule crush on the silver-haired man only cemented your decision to avoid him. Except that it is extremely difficult to avoid someone who can appear in a flash without warning.
Summary: No matter when she goes to bed Gemma always feels exhausted when she wakes up.
Notes: special thank you to all the support I have gotten so far on this fic. Gemma has been an OC I have had for some time now but always seem to struggle to tell her story (for some reason)
Also, I feel like not a lot of happening but I promise it will pick up.
All Masterlists @melyalizarchive
Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest
--------
They had been dealing with these mutants for over a year now. Not consistently but every once in a while they would pop back up. Only stealing weird stuff from power cells. Once they had stolen a whole truck full of household batteries (like AA and stuff). Another time they had broken into a string of car dealerships but only took the engines
Regardless they would strike and then disappear just as quickly.
Xavier had said that it was possible they had been causing crimes for longer but the X-men had only come upon them recently.
Because of their mutant powers he had been worried they would ruin all the hard work he was doing to build a better world where Mutants and Humans could co-exist. They weren’t shy about using their powers both in a fight and when they were busy taking whatever they wanted.
Peter had never really thought much about it.
They were just more baddies they needed to fight.
Until he met one of them on the bus.
Gemma
-----------
Gemma yawned again rubbing her eyes as she turned on her boombox letting the music pulse through the room. James Hetfield’s gravelly voice filled her small bedroom as she changed from her work clothes into something more comfortable for bed.
It was soothing, the energy pulsing from her speakers. Not that many people would call the tunes of Metallic soothing but she wasn't many people. Sitting down in front of the boombox she hummed along letting the manic sounds flow through her like sparks from a current. As weird as it was to say the fast-paced rhythm was calming she couldn’t explain it any other way.
Getting up she threw herself down onto her bed letting out a low moan as she buried her head in her pillow. Closing her eyes letting sleep overcome her. Praying it would be a peaceful night. That her body would just rest. Just let her have one good night’s sleep.
Was that too much to ask for?
Apparently
Her dreams were filled with weird lights flashing behind her eyelids. Yelling and screaming. Flickers of energy flashing like lighting across her face as monsters with human faces she didn’t recognize danced around her. Their deformed bodies flickering back and forth as if the lighting itself was summoning them.
And a silver-haired boy.
Running around her faster and faster. Her headphones on his head.
“Wake up, wake up, wake up.”
Gemma found herself laying flat on her back on the hard floor of her bedroom, her body unable to move as she looked up at her ceiling blinking a few times. Reality slowly seeped into her consciousness images from her dreams fading.
All but one, a silver-haired boy.
Well man really, but you know.
“Maybe I need to stop playing music before I go to bed” she muttered sitting up rubbing temples trying to bring some feeling back into her body. It felt so numb and exhausting. As if she had just run for miles. Getting up she turned off the buzzing alarm on her clock before dragging herself into the bathroom to try and get herself ready for the day.
“Morning!” Drew said as his older sister stumbled down into the kitchen looking like death itself. He would never say it to his sister but later she really didn’t seem… herself. “I made coffee,” the 12-year-old said, holding out a mug.
Gemma smiled gratefully taking it in her hands letting the warmth fill her body before taking a sip. “Ok but why are you the coolest brother ever?”
Drew shrugged “It’s my gift.”
“Oh, if only I could be as cool.”
“Maybe someday my young padawan”
“Teach me your ways yoda” Gamma chuckled already feeling the effects of the caffeine bringing her back to life.
“Speaking of the best movie that has ever been made, are we still on for marathoning tomorrow?”
“Don’t you have like, cool friends you want to hang out with?”
“Yeah but my sister said she would make her sugar popcorn and I got a bunch of star wars themed snacks with that money you gave me.” As he said this he pulled out a box of C-3PO's cereal out of the cabinet. “I mean look at this,”
“I mean, I know I want to hang out with you and quote Star Wars ad nauseam until our sweet dear parents make us turn it off or at least speak with inside voices but I assumed you had like… you know kids your own age you wanted to hang with.”
“It’s the summer we hung out all week. Weekends are our time.”
“Sounds perfect to me. I literally can’t wait.”
After a hearty breakfast of sugary themed cereal and coffee Gemma grabbed her bag and rushed off to the bus stop while Led Zeppelin cheered her on through her new headphones.
Normally Gemma wasn’t one to really pay attention to the other patients on the bus. Keeping her head down and enjoying whatever mixed tape she had made that week. But as she walked onto the bus that morning she couldn’t help but notice a silver-haired boy sitting at the back.
Was he stalking her?
Naw probably just had the same route.
---
Peter was stalking her. All night he had rushed around unnoticed by the small family that resided in the house Gemma had entered.They were your classic American family. Two kids, a boy and a girl (if not a bit of an age gap) with loving parents. They said grace and talked about their days over a roast.
Picture perfect.
Besides the constant yawning, Gemma seemed happy. Smiling and engaging with them. Very polite and even seemed to care about the work story her father had to say or what drama Karen was causing in her mom’s sewing circle.
Shit that Peter would have bashed his head in if he had to listen too.
Shit, a villain like the woman he had fought wouldn’t sit through. Or at least with a genuine smile like the one Gemma wore. It was like she actually enjoyed family time.
After dinner, they all watched some TV but Gemma had chosen to rest early. Going to her room where she blasted some music from her stereo turning around letting her hands hover just a few inches from the speaker. This was the first time he noticed any non-normal action from her. Just her standing there, eyes closed, head tilted back, mouth open slightly letting the music wash over her with her hands so close to the sound it was as if they craved it.
After a few moments she removed her hands then walked toward her bed face-planting on the bed and promptly fell asleep.
Which was his cue to leave. Yes, he was stalking her but he wasn’t a creeper. Time to find out who this weird girl was.
A quick break-in and a couple photo books later and he learned she was a VERY average girl. Normal grades, all comments in her yearbook generic like “good luck” “rock on” with a few quotes from songs, all heavy rock and metal. (At least she had a good taste in music)
There was one thing though, it looked like in her early years she had dark brown hair and eyes which slowly through her teens faded into the white hair and bright blue that she had now. Probably had something to do with her mutation.
This also confirmed she was one of the four mutants.
Which was almost impossible to believe considering how generic and bland this girl’s life seemed.
It was a puzzle.
---------
Their eyes met in that awkward “so should we act like we know each other or not’ look. In the light of day and (in the loosest term possible) rest, the silver-haired boy wasn’t bad looking. Large brown eyes and that laid back “whatever” attitude that Gemma had always fallen for in high school.
But she wasn’t in high school anymore and he was just some weird guy on the bus.
Deciding to not engage she flashed him a half-smile before taking a seat in the middle of the bus. Ok, maybe she shouldn’t have smiled. But it was that christen upbringing engaged in her.
Be kind to others.
Or some bullshit like that.
“You forgot your headphones yesterday.”
Gemma basically jumped out of her skin when the boy appeared out of nowhere now sitting next to her in the empty seat. Holding out small headphones in one hand for her to take.
“I…” she checked behind her to confirm that the seat he had been in was empty, it was. “I didn’t forget them,” she said, turning her attention back to him. He smelled good, was that bad for her to think? But he did so maybe it was just more of a fact. Kind of like fun. He smelled like fun. Which shouldn’t have a smell… but if it did it would be how this boy smelled.
He was still sitting there holding out the headphones for her, a look of confusion on his face.
“I gave them to you.” she clarified, “So you could listen to some better music than Pink Floyd.”
“Outch, what do you have against Floyd?”
She chuckled, shrugging, “Honestly I don’t, I just felt like razzing you.”
The boy shrugged fighting back a smile, (was it ok to like this girl if she was a bad guy?) “Fair.”
Both of them sat in an awkward silence for a while.
“Well this is my stop” the boy said as the bus slowed.
“Cool, bye”
And like that he was gone.
Weirdo.
Cute, but still a weirdo.
Not that she was really one to talk. She was VERY far from being normal.
Turing up her music she leaned back in her chair letting it play as she held the cassette player in her lap trying to make sure she didn’t touch it with her hands. Sometimes her powers would drain electronics when she wasn’t paying attention, especially when she was tired.
Tired.
Why was she always so tired?
Music playing through her head and thoughts of a silver-haired boy played around in her mind as the world rushed past her.
And that was the last thing she remembered.
-GET TAGGED!-
Forever tag: @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @0hmydeku @xx3fsxx @daisyboobear @ @jason-redhood @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @ocelysium @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep @cdwmtjb8
(Let me know if you too would like to be tagged)
"Hank, can you hand me the wire cutters, please," you asked, holding out your hand.
"Hank?" Still nothing, it was like the lab had been deserted, but then you looked up, trying to figure out where he went and that's when you saw it, plain as day.
Raven. It's not that you hated Raven, you thought she was nice, but it always pained you the way Hank would look at her - the same way he is now. Eyes lit up, hanging on her every words, his cheeks dusted pink cause she brushed his arm, he was beginning to stutter cause he was getting nervous. The same way he was when you and him first got together - now you were practically invisible and second best.
Quietly, undetected, you slipped out of the lab, to your room to pack your bags. You made sure your thoughts were loud enough for Charles to hear and made him promise not to tell Hank. You had everything planned and the taxi called - grabbing your bag, you walked the end of the road, making sure you didn't miss your cab.
"(Y/N), wait," a small voice called from the distance. Turning around you saw Hank running to catch up. Catching up, he looked at you confused. "You're leaving, why?"
"I uh- I got a better job offer," you lied.
"Liar, Charles said its because of me. What have I done wrong?"
'Goddamn it, Charles! You promised you wouldn't tell him.'
'Sorry, (Y/N), but he deserves the right to know and I knew you wouldn't tell him.'
"It's for the best, it's for your happiness, Hank."
"My happiness? My happiness is you, it's you staying. (Y/N), I love you."
You give a small smile to fight back the tears. "Now you're the liar, cause you don't."
Hank opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.
"No, just don't. I can see it, so can everyone else. You don't love me, you love Raven. The way you hang on her every word, the way you smile when you see her walk into a room. How you blush when she compliments you, how you stumble over your words when you talk to her. You look at her like she hung the moon and painted the stars," you paused to catch your breath. "It's the same way you used to act around me, it's the same way you used to look at me," you whispered.
"(Y/N)," Hank whispered, you didn't even need to look in order to know he had tears on his eyes too.
"It's okay, sometimes people grow apart. That's why I'm leaving, I don't want to stand in the way. You can pursue her now and I wish you guys the best."
"So, not only are you leaving, but you're breaking up with me?" His voice was breaking and it killed you, but you thought it was for the best. Looking down the road, your taxi was in sight. Grabbing your bag, on your tips toes, you place a kiss on his cheek.
"Goodbye, Hank. I love you."
Getting in the taxi, you didn't dare look back for fear of not being able to control the tears.
••6 months later••
Theo and you were so engrossed in conversation, neither of you heard the sets of footsteps that walked into the break room.
"Wait, so you're meaning to tell me that you can build quinjets, build fighter jets, pilot them, breathe and control fire, you're a telepath, and can manipulate and rebuild any molecular composition, and split atoms, yet you can't even knit a pair of socks," Theo laughed unable to believe what you had just told him.
You laughed and gave Theo a little push, "Oh hush, I'm not a knitter, alright."
"Ahem, are you two finished?"
Both of your heads snapped up at the sight of your boss, making you both stand up immediately.
"Professor Xavier, Dr. McCoy, this is Dr. Theodore Marx," he gestured to Theo, "and this is Dr-"
"(Y/N)," Charles cut him off.
"Charles," you smiled sweetly.
"Dr. (L/N), Charles tells me he has a project he'd like you to assist with. It will be a lengthy project, so I have permitted eight weeks leave for you."
"What exactly is this project?"
"(Y/N), I need you and Hank to help rebuild one of our jets. You two are the ones I trust with this the most," Charles explained.
You hesitated to answer, you were worried about having to work with Hank, you still harbored some feelings for him and working in such close proximity was sure to bring them back up.
You forced a smile, "I would love to. I'll pack my bags and be down in a minute."
'Just so you know, the only reason I accepted was for you, Charles.'
'Thank you.'
••At the Mansion••
Hank and you never had much conversation aside from discussing how to rebuild it or asking each other for tools or direction. Both of you were focused on the rebuild or talking with others.
When everyone would take a break, you'd hang around Jubilee and Peter and Hank would station himself with Logan and Charles. Hank was in mid-conversation with the two men when he heard you laugh at something Peter had said, it made his heart and his head drop - the same reaction he had when he walked in the break room and saw you with Theo.
No matter how hard Hank tried to concentrate, he'd always turn his focus to you, hoping to catch your eye, but you'd always have yourself focused at the task at hand or Peter. He was constantly hovering around you and flirting. You liked Peter, not in that way, but you indulged his flirty antics with some of your own, knowing you'd be back to your apartment in no time.
In no time the jet was rebuilt and you were on your way back after having said some tearful goodbyes; your taxi pulled up and you were on your way.
'Rememeber, (Y/N), no matter what, you are always welcome to come back.'
You noted the slight smile in his message. 'I know, thank you, Charles.'
The trip back was slightly exhausting, but you wanted to get your clothes unpacked. After taking a couple articles of clothing out, you noticed a white envelope addressed with just your name. Grabbing it and sitting on the edge of your bed, you open it and see an array of numbered pictures.
1:
The day you arrived and first met Hank. He had a small smile and was looking at his feet.
-After that day everyone joked about how you had him hook, line and sinker.
2:
You had been there just a few days shy of a month. You were sitting in the gardens admiring the flowers with Hank beside you. Except he wasn't looking at the flowers - he was looking at you, a shy smile on his face as he watched your face light up as you talked about your love of gardening.
-That was the day no one let him live down how smitten he was with you.
3:
You were at the piano, fingers dancing across the keys effortlessly. Eyes closed, feeling every note, but Hank wasn't watching how delicately your hands glided over the keys. He was watching you, completely entranced by how lost, how much you felt the music.
-Everyone started calling him 'lover boy' after that.
4:
You were in your room on bed rest after an incident on a mission, Hank was sitting on the edge of your bed with a trey in his hand - some soup, juice and new bandages scattered across it. He had promised to take care of you until you were well again. It made Hank worried sick when he realized you could have died.
-That was the day everyone, but you, knew he truly was in love.
5:
It was after your first year at the X-Mansion. You and Hank were dressed to the nines, in the middle of a slow dance, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. Somehow the students convinced Charles to have a small dance for the students and teachers. Hank had to hype himself up, with a little help from Charles and Logan, in order to get the courage to ask you to dance.
-That was the night he decided to go for it and ask you out.
6:
You and Hank were coming back from a movie, hand and hand up the driveway, smiles on both of your faces. You had been dating for six months at the time.
-He had told he loved you and asked if you'd 'officially' be his girlfriend, even though everyone knew you already were for a while.
That was the last picture until a note, you opened it to reveal a few more pictures. The were from the recent weeks when you were helping rebuild the jet.
7:
When you arrived back at the mansion to help rebuild. Everyone encapsulated you in a group hug, while Hank just stood back, an adoring smile on his face, waiting for you to make your way to him.
-He held hope that you'd come back permanently. Hank didn't sleep that night, he was up thinking about you.
8:
Hank, hands around your waist, helping you jump out of the engine. Dirty and greasy, you climbed out of the jets engine, ready to jump. Hank noticed and dropped what he was doing to go over and help you down; he didn't want you hurt.
-He didn't want to let you go once your feet hit the ground. Hank wanted so badly to pull you into him like he used to.
9:
You, with Hank reading over you shoulder, looking at the blue prints to the jet.
At the table, you had the blue prints for the jet rolled out. You were concentrating on the paper in front of you when Hank came up behind you, pressing himself against you. You paid it no mind, continuing to focus on the diagram, letting him read over your shoulder if he wanted to.
-He never once look at the blueprints. The only thing he looked at was you. Even in the photo, anybody could see the adoration and love he still had for you.
10:
You and Peter talking. The entire time you had been there, you avoided Hank as best you could, only talking with him when neccessary. So, you usually occupied your time with Peter. Peter had walked with you to grab some tools, and that's where you decided to sit down and talk for a while. In the background was Hank - practically staring daggers towards Peter.
-He hated not be able to get your attention anymore and as ashamed as he would be to admit it, he wanted to fight Peter that day.
11:
A single picture of Hank, forlorn, back against the wall, looking at an old picture of you and him.
-He missed you, anyone could see that. If he could change what happned he would.
12:
The picture Hank had been staring at in the last photo.
You, face covered in frosting, kissing Hank.
You, on the last birthday you had at the mansion.
Hank had attempted to make you a cake and surprise you with it and small party with everyone. Jean lit the candles, and after you blew them out, some of your friends decided to push your face into it. Everyone started laughing, even Hank. As slight "revenge" you get on your tiptoes and gave Hank a long kiss on his lips, making extra sure to get frosting all over him.
-Even though he hated how sticky it made him, he wouldn't have traded that day for the world. He loved the smile you had on your face and the fun you had. He loved you then and still does now.
That was the last photo that covered the writing on the paper that held them. Unfolding the paper, you braces yourself, thinking the worst.
(Y/N),
If it wasn't obvious enough to tell, Hank never stopped. He loved you then and he loves you now. He still thinks and still looks at you like you hung the moon and painted the stars. He waits every night; he walks out to the end of the driveway, hoping you'll come back. I know you still love him too.
