X Men Fanfiction - Blog Posts

X-Men Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Remy LeBeau x reader Image

Remy LeBeau (Gambit) x Reader

Warnings: Gender not specified, short

X-Men Masterlist

Main Masterlist

(GIF not mine, I found it on Pinterest)

Finally. You’re home. Charles has been working you to the bone. It’s not your fault that your Mutant ability is so awesome, but your energy does pay the price. You can hardly register what or who the kids are that run around the halls of the school as you make your way to your bed. You're so tired that you chuck your bags and shoes to who knows where in your room. With a groan you flop onto the bed, desperately trying to sleep but your mind just doesn’t want to shut up.

Time is an illusion as you lay there trying your hardest to sleep but with no success even though you are beyond your limit. Your door gently opens and the sound of someone walking around catches your attention. Their voice is low and soft as they hum a calming tune. You can hear things being moved, light switches being flicked, and the wood floor occasionally creaking. You feel the bed dip as hands gently touch your face.

They don’t move your face, the person does lean down to look at you though. Remy, your sweet boyfriend is the one who greets your gaze. He carefully lays down and pulls you on top of him. Your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. His hand gently stroking your back in calming patterns. Thank goodness for your Remy.

Prompt: "Do you plan on kissing me, or just staring at my lips like they're your dinner?"

Summary: just the gay mutant road trip. This is mostly a Drabble.

Charles lay sprawled out on the couch, headache buzzing at the back of his mind. Recruitment today was...well, a 'shit show' in no uncertain terms. Charles had been in the city for most of the day, which (for a telepath), meant a killer headache. Once the pain had finally subsided enough to form coherent thought, he'd realized what little food he actually had today, finally noticing the festering hunger by the pit of his stomach. Erik had just entered from the bathroom.

"Erik," Charles beckoned from the couch.

"Yes?" Erik turned to see Charles splayed out on the couch. He wore only a robe—motel issued, of course—and white briefs. Erik put massive amounts of effort into not looking at Charle's dick, which you could vaguely see the outline of.

"I'm hungry."

"And?" Erik raised a brow, now standing in front of Charles.

"Food. I want it." Erik smirked a little at the way Charles was acting. 'Cute' was the word bouncing around in his mind; he would never admit it though. Erik could see the desperation in Charles' eyes, almost a pout. He promptly decided that it was a matter of national importance to annoy the ever-loving shit out of Charles.

"What's the magic word?" Charles shifted to lying on the couch now, head propped up by one hand.

"Erik you're amazing, wonderful, handsome, and I love you?" Charles looked up to see a visibly nervous, startled, bumbling, blushing, Erik.

Okay, maybe it's a matter of local importance?

In reaction, Charles' mouth slightly opened, eyes wide, eyebrows raised for only a fraction of a second. Because, fuck, that's hot, but also, he can't know that.

Still flushed, Erik coughed and said "that will suffice." Erik then grabbed the hotel phone, calling down room service—while also, actively paying no mind to Charles. About a minute later, Charles piped up.

"I can flirt too, you know." Erik raised a brow and snapped to Charles' eyes.

"Yes, I've seen it in action. I often watch it with abject horror."

"You weren't staring at my ass in abject horror," Charles mumbled, breaking eye contact with Erik (who is, once again, a mess).

"No, I was staring at your ass with uncertain lust. Your ass isn't you flirting though, Charles. Your flirting is 'oh, hello attractive person, may I unzip your genes?" This time, Charles went red in the face, and let out a scoff.

"Erik, I purposefully shake my ass in front of you. I bite on the tip of my pen, I walk around half naked more often then normal, I leave the door open when I shower."

"I... I thought that was just you."

"It is, it's me when I'm around you"

Suddenly, a knock on the door breaks the trance both men were looped into. Erik shuffles around to open the door and mumbles a "thanks" to the worker. Charles loses himself in thought and Erik sifts through the food. He brings Charles his lava cake on the couch, where he sits down next to him with his coffee. Erik has to push around Charles' legs to make room. Once settled, Charles just places his legs on top of Erik's—both men sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, facing towards each other. Charles finally begins to dig into his lava cake, making aggressive eye contact with Erik. After a while, he shifts his fork around on the empty plate, still staring at Erik. Charles’ eyes landed on Erik’s lips; a shot of anticipation went up his spine. He’d thought about this many times before, and his thoughts began to spiral, replaying old fantasies. I don’t know where I want his lips first. Maybe we’d make out a bit first, then he’d kiss down my neck. Maybe he’d find that spot right behind my ear. Maybe I’d get to see his lips wrapped around my-

"Charles, are you still hungry?" Both men now sat 'pretzel style' still facing each other, when they got there remains a mystery. Charles now met Erik’s eyes, blood rushing up to his cheeks.

"No, I'm plenty full, why?" Charles leaned in slightly

"Okay, then do you plan on kissing me or just staring at my lips like they're your desert?"

Charles' eyes go dark with lust; his body stills. He nearly throws the plate down, muttering something along the lines of "bastard," and surges forward to meet Erik. Erik's hands frame the sides of Charles' face; Charles' hands grasp the older man's hair. Their noses were touching, breath burning each other's skin, mere inches away from kissing. Charles' eyes frantically searched Erik's, as if attempting to commit the moment to memory.

"Do you always play with your food, Charles?" Erik asked, and Charles could feel the question against his mouth. Charles let out a soft "fuck you" before finally closing the distance. As their lips met, they began to slowly devour one another. Their kiss was surprisingly... non-aggressive; sweet, even. Still full of passion, lust, and desire, but it was clear that neither of them were in a rush. Both men savored their (now) lover's taste. Erik let out a breathy laugh, and Charles did the same. Words left unsaid, declarations of love, and pure adoration were confessed against each other's lips.

Charles tugged against Erik's hair, and Erik groaned. Erik, in retaliation, shifted his hands down to Charles' ass, making him yelp. He lifted Charles closer, placing him atop his own lap. The couple broke apart for air, now panting in to each other's mouths. Erik's hands found Charles' face again, thumbs stroking softly.

“You taste like chocolate," Erik rasped, because honestly, he has no clue what to say. Charles placed a chaste kiss on the corner of Erik's mouth. He responded, in a similar tone, with "you taste like bastard."

Erik laughed, and oh god, that's one of Charles' favorite sounds.

"And, pray tell, what does bastard taste like, Charles?" Oh fuck, he's never said my name like that before.

"It tastes like the idiot who agreed to travel with me." Both men leaned back slightly, now looking into one another's eyes. "Tell me more about this idiot," Erik purred, one hand now roaming across Charles' neck. Charles released Erik's hair, and instead, wrapped his hands around Erik's arms.

"Well, he's stubborn," Charles began, Erik contenting with a mhm. Charles contemplated his next words, before trying again.

"He's stubborn, handsome… probably my best friend, and has these piercing, stormy eyes. He speaks five languages, and I swoon every time he speaks his native tongue. To be fair, I swoon every time he speaks period. His laugh is one of my favorite sounds in the world, and he's the only person I enjoy arguing with. He's a beautiful masterpiece of passion, even though he can't see it. Sometimes it scares me—how honest I am with him. He's very vocal about mutant rights, he's a wonderful addition to my life, and I think I might be a little bit in love with him." Erik's thumb stopped moving, and his body stilled.

"I think that idiot is a little bit in love with you too."

Please send me requests if you have any! I do !x reader’s too, I just haven’t had a good idea for one.

autistic people whose special interest is some piece of media write the absolute best fanfiction about it. i need to read more fanfiction from people who are as autistic about x-men as i am

(X-men x reader).Part 2

X-Men Origins: Wolverin.

Summary: You just wanted to survive, not create a harem!!

I decided to write about my favorite super-heroes, since I just watched, -not completly yet-, and don't ask me why I never watch it before (because I was too young back then).

requested: no, if there was any mistake please tell me.

warning: requests are opened, mention death, and other things, mistakes....abuse.

fanfiction, still not edited.

2181 words. WOW.

Part1

Waking up from your beauty sleep, you felt tired to stand up, but as you saw what time it was, you jumped as fast as possible, the sleepness already leaving you body.

It was 11 a.m and you were late, too late. Today you were supposed to meet the wolverine and his brother to convince them to leave with you. Of course, you had taken permission,with the help of your new power, but you needed to stay quite, you shouldn't speak until you were given permission. You were okay with that, because what would say to any one them, hey I am a big fan of yours?

Laughing at the thought you put on some military clothes. You weren't a fan of showing much of your skin, even with this perfect body that you now have. That's why you were wearing male clothes. It was confortable and easy to move in, and for the other clothes that you brought and modified a little, were still waiting for the right moment ti be used.

You knew runnig will not help you now, so you decided to fuck it, and use teleportation. Which you found out later one to be the best option.

_took your sweet time.

_Major William Stryker!

He give you one of his rare smile, before patting your head.You took the seat next to him, trying to et confortable with a ride that may take two hours.

_If you were one minute late we would have left without you.

His smile soon disappeared and was replace it but a blank expression, as he signaled for the driver to start the car. You knew, he would have, not because of him been an impatient man, but because he doesn't even want you to be there.

As you expected the ride was long and boring,and while Major Stryker was re-reading the files of the two men, you found yourslef sleeping just half an hour through the ride.

………………………….

Rubbing your right eye, to try and get ride of the blurness, you walked by Major side, looking around with a disgusted face. Everything was dirty, you can even see some rats running around with what you assumed to be a peace of meat in there mouth.

As you passed, soldiers were looking at you either with confusion,what a woman doing here?, or with lust, which you hated, but ignored to not start a fight.

Once in front of sell, Major signaled for the soldier to open the door, which he did with his eyes not leaving your face.

Major was the first to walk in, before you did. You tried as much as possible keeping a poker face which happened to be hard as both of the brother turn your way.

You couldn't see it but there eyes widen as you enter, an angel, that's what they thought you were. Your hair was on high ponytail, you eyes were light blue instead of there usually color from nervousity. which made you look like a angel to both of them.

-My name is Major William Stryker. The man standing in front you spoke, gining there attention back to him.

_You've been charged with k*ll a senior officer.Is that correct?

_Apparently, we have some issues with authority… The eldery spoke, his eyes sliding to you. You didn't even notice him, since you were busy watching the rat on his arm, with much disgust, which suprisendly didn't reflect on your face or your eyes.

_Just keep a lid on it.

Wolverine looked at his brother warning him to keep it shut.

-sir.

William was amused, and you knew he could see it, that unlike, the youngest, Victor was more blood thirsty and with just few words he would be able to get him, and if he did, the youngest will follow.

_The warden tells me that your sentence was carried out by a firing squad at 1000 hours.How'd that go?

From taht point you blocked there convversation, you were bored, which suprised you since you were in presence of the main character and his evil brother.

_I'm putting together a special team with special privileges.

William said, as he bravely looked you from where he was, before continuing, which caught both of the brothers attention. Making them look at each, silently communicating with each other.

_Now, tell me, how would you like to really serve your country?

…………………………………………………..

You were all the plan, and like in the car you were sitting on Major William's right side just next the men, who bickered like children.

_Don't.

you warn Wade pointing at fingure at him, with eyes as red as blood. He was about to make a comment that you weren't ready to hear. You weren't ready to hear none of there bickery, beacsue somehow, God thought it will be a good idea to call you, for a mission, just as you all left the small prison, to give the brothers a moment to shower and get ready.

You were exhausted by the moment you came back. You felt as if someone was hitting with a hammer in every inch of your body.

-Bradley, take her down.

Major spoke refering to the plan, which he immidiatly did, making James feel much worse. You had complitly forgot how the man hated flying in the first movie.

_Gentlemen, wheels down in Lagos in five.

Major annouced, before patting on the head as he saw how tired you were. …………………………….

Once there you somehow found yourslef between the two brothers. Which you were sure was not where you were supposed to be.

_Why are we here?

James asked snapping you out of your thoughts.

_All in good time.

Major responded uncaring, because he knew once the man knew what they were ready to do, will surely leave, but wiil (Y/N) do the same? Major thought.

_(Y/N). You snapped your head to Major, who called your name like a father would.

-I want you to… The other couldn't hear what he whispered to you, but when your eyes light up they thought it's something good for you. You soon disapeared in front of there eyes, but before they could react, Major William, turned to Zer, giving him permission to do what his best at, shoot the enemies.

…………………….

Meanwhile, you were inside in the room, where so many workers were cheeking the diamons, to see if they were real or not. Unfortunatly, for them you weren't there for diamons.

You stood near the window whatching as Victor climbed the building like it was a tree. You let out a small laugh, not like anyone could hear you or see you, before you got back to your mission, which was simple, read mind. It was supposed to be Bradley, but he was needed down there.

Putting two fingures on the man forehead, you got thrown in his memories. One by one, you saw how he meet his wife, how he acted with his daughter, and he was the cause of many death, you tried not to break your focus from staying invisible from the eyes of the guards as you digged more inside the man head, until you heard the elevator door open, with a small ding. Soon you heard the sound of gun and swords, which you assumed to be from the guards and Wade.

-If you didn't have that mouth on you, Wade, you'd be the perfect soldier.

Major commented before he called your name, making your coat of invisibily fall.

_So?

He asked.

_I wouldn't do that if I was you, brother.

The teleportation man said as he stopped the mafia boss, or whatever the man that you read his mind was, from taking a hold of his gun.

_Thank you. You smiled at him, he just saved your life. Maybe you should take God's offer and bring your details in your memories back.

_He brought it from a small village, far inland, three days from here.

You spoke throwing the black rock on the desk.

_You did good.

He praised you with a small pat on your head, making you glare at him, but he wasn't looking his eyes were more focused on the thing on his hands.

You turned you head, trying to avoid the dark emotions comming from the Major, but you were meet with Login's eyes on you, or james as he is called now.You give him a smile, which he return.

For login that smile moved something inside of him, he almsot chuckled when he knew what it was, a silly crush. Looking at you more, he tried to take in all of you, your eyes that changed back to there origine color, you hair that was the same since morning, your hands that you hide in you trouseres pocket, your lips that pouted in mesary, as the Major patted your head.You were a much shorter than him, if you weren't the boots.

……………………………………………

Leaving the building, you stood by team side, sitting this time beside login and his brother, who seem to take a liking to you.You would if you didn't remeber how he killed Bradley, with no mercy.

_Let me help.

You softly spoke, as you put a hand on Logan's shoulder. Taking away his motion sickness, which helped him relaxe for the first time.

_Thank you.

He gifted you a shy small, and that's how you two found yourself making small conversations, unware of the jealous eyes, of both Victore and Wade.

....................................................................

few days later, you arrived in the small village, and you asked youself for the first time who you should follow, the man who helped you, or the main character?

You let out a sigh of ditress, catching Logan's attention. Who put a hand on your shoulder trying to consul you,, which you reponded by a forced smile, and before he could ask you run to the MMajor's side.

_He says it came from the sky.

Wade translated what the man said.

_He is telling the truth.

Logan spoke observing the kneeling man expression.

_You don't know the language, Logan.

Major's spoke, like he was telling Logan to shut it. of couse, LOgan didn't see it, but he shut his mouth any way, looking at his brother, begging him tos top whatever will happen. Which Victor responded to with a grin.

_It's a meteor fragment.

He whispered catching Major's attention on you.

_I know what it is.I am asking where he found it.

Of course, he knew. He was the one who send it to the laboratory for an examination before coming to the inland.

Just like last time you shut there conversation,, focusing more on the desiscion that you will soon have to take. You either choose, Logan, the man you had the pleasure to know more, that what ythe T.V shown about him, or Major William Stryker, th eman who become more like a father to you. It was a hard choice.

Hearing a scraem you snapped to see Victor holding the man by his neck, you for once remebered what would happened so with no hestation, you push Victor back, before putting a shield on the people. unfortunatly, some of them were already injured or dead.

_You promised!

You looked at the man you saw as a father, with so much disapointement.

_Don't!

Major screamed catching on what you will did, but it was too late, you send all of them the base with a wave of your hand, before they could hurt any more.

Turning to the people, you acted shock when you saw Logan. You knew he didn't want to hurt anyone, but you acted like it.

_I don't want to hurt anyone!

He screamed as he held his head high.

_If you don't beleive me, you can read my mind!

He tried to convience you, it was a very tempting suggestion. Sighing to stepped in fornt of him, before touching his head, going inside of it. You closed yur eyes to help you concetrate, which cased you to miss how his eyes traveled from your lips to your every inch on your face.

Now that he saw you from a this distance, your faces almost touching. He couldn't lie, he did have a not so tiny crush, but you were so much younger than him.

_I am as old as you are, maybe more.

You whispered, your eyes now opened, focusing shamessly on his lips. Which suprised him, he was focusing on guessing the tast of your lips that he forgotten himself.

Feeling bold, you give him a small peck on the lips before, turning to help the injuried people who needed medical attention.

It took Login by suprise, he wasn't sure if he should take that as a hint that you felt the same as him, or it was just a heat of a moment, but you didn't look like someone who would kiss just because.

Lincking his lips, he promised to ask you later and maybe get another taste of your lips, and this time it wouldn't just a peck.

(X-men x reader).Part 1

Summary: You just wanted to survive, not create a harem!!

I decided to write about my favorite super-heroes, since I just watched, -not completly yet-, and don't ask me why I never watch it before (because I was too young back then).

requested: no, if there was any mistake please tell me.

warning: requests are opened, mention death, and other things, mistakes....abuse.

fanfiction, still not edited.

You didn't quite understood, what he meant when he said you weren't going to like your next life. Until, you opened you eyes to see, this dark dirty room, it looked like one of those preason in the second world war, and it didn't look like you were there for too long.

You didn't have any information, about this body. Only that it belong to a female girl, in 20. She was kidnapped and raised as a weapon, her whole life, and that was it.

HHe didn't gave you anything more, and to be quite franc, you didn't need any, and you didn't think that you will need them. From just there, you understood that she wasn't near anyone, that will cause you problems in the furur.

Looking around, you found that the small prison room, you were in, wasn't all powerful to keep you, meaning that whoever put you here doesn't know about the powers this body holds. The chaines weren't holding your hands right, it hurt whenevver you move it, but with your hey pain tolerance you may be able to break them.

As you closed your eyes, trying to activite your power, when suddenly the door opened. A man in melitary form enter, at first glace you knew who he was, which caused you to curse in your head unconsciously.

_ My name is Marcy William Stryker. You will be excuted to death for stealing. is that correct?

He spoke as he took in your form, you tried to hug yourself as a way to sheald yourself from his eyes, as much as possible, with your hands chained to your back.

You were all dirty, but that didn't hide, how beautiful you were, he wouldn't lie, just looking at those eyes of yours, made him feel at ease, as if a big heavy weight was lift off his shoulders. You shone with innocence, rare thing only found in newborn.

He already made a promise to himself to protect you from the horny and uncontrolable men, that he took in his team. He would have done it, even if he knew how capable you were. It was just like a fatherly instinct inside of him that somehow convinced him to protect you and take you under his wings, even if it was the first time he saw you face to face.

You on the other hand, was thinking either to cut off his head, and miss up the story or go with him and watch your favorite charcter go through a traumatize life, to become the worlverine you know all too well.

_If you go with me, I will give the best you will ever dream of. A nice warm bed, food...clothes. What ever you wish for. With me you wouldn't have to worry about hiding what you are.

He looked dirctly in your eyes, and you could see the sincerity in them. He didn't use the word work, neither did he imply it.

You stared at each other for a good minute, before you sigh nodding. Not having the power or the will to speak. You were hungry and tired,wich was one of the reasons why you accepted, because either if you run away, you would only found yourself in the street, that if you found away out of the war zone.

You walk out of the expensive bathroom. When he said he will take care of you, you didn't expect him to go this far. He brought you the nicest room, and the most expensive product that smells good you wouldn't lie.

Looking out the window you tried not to think much about the meeting that will happen sooner than you wil like it. It's not that you don't want to meet him, you are more afraid of what you may do, or how you will act around him. Or maybe you can ignore him, and just watch...Yeah that sound like a good idea.

Suddenly an idea popped in your head, since you came here, you still hadn't seen yourself. With that you start searshing for a mirror, until you found one,sticked on the wardroped, near the window.

You slowly walked to it, as you imagine, how you may look like. By what you saw when you were shoowering was kind give away on how you looked, but yet you had to see full body with your face.

You let a gasped...Oh my godness, you looked fine, breathtaking. There wasn't a word that could discribe you. It was just dream body of every girl, minus the small cutes here and there, but damn.

You giggled as you posed, like those girl you see on social media. You always felt infure to them, about how you looked. Now ypu wish come true, no more buillying and no more pressing on yourself.

Your giggles soon turn to a full laugh, as you throw yourself enjoying the beautiful soft bed, huggin yourself, making sure that it was really, 100% real and not just you imagination, maybe he was wrong and you will have fun here.

@mostlymarvelgirl

@akikodumire990

Thank you.

Hi!

Welcome to

hicanivent's Masterlist

Please do not interact if you're a minor; my works are strictly 18+ only (with exceptions).

Won't write:

Scat

Character x OC

Real People

Self inserts

Might consider writing:

Vomit, Piss kink

Character x Character

Female Characters

Crossover

I am willing to write anything else.

Please, keep in mind!

If I find any new situations, scenarios or requests I am not comfortable with, I will add them into the 'Won't write' category.

Situations, scenarios or any requests mentioned in the 'Might consider writing' category depend on requested fanfiction and theme of the chosen character and/or fandom.

I might consider writing certain female characters. However, it is not a definite decision. Personally, I feel more comfortable writing for male characters but I'm always willing to try!

Extra warning

Some of my works might include triggering themes such as non-con, dub-con, abuse, manipulation, suicide, self harm and other themes, depending on the work.

Only fandoms which have such themes in canon might include mentions of incest, pedophilia, necrophilia. Such themes will NEVER be fully explicit and will only be there for educational or character lore purposes.

I do not agree with incest, necrophilia nor pedophilia. If you are attracted to any of those outside of fiction, please find medical help.

Fandoms I write for + Requests:

Request anything! Be it headcannons, one shots, multiple chapter stories, songfics, crackfics, anything!

(Open) - Open for any requests

(Request Will Be Considered) - Might have to learn more about Character's/Fandom's lore

If a request gets denied, it's going to be postponed until the Fandom and/or Character is open again

(Only Certain Characters) - Completely knowledge of only certain characters

(Only Certain Movies) - Other movies/series not seen for now

(Currently Closed) - Won't be written because of: Lack of knowledge; Not seen for a long time; Details Blurry; Series/Franchises not finished

Gravity Falls (Only Certain Characters)

Harry Potter (Only Certain Characters)

Fantastic Beasts (Currently closed)

Hogwarts Legacy (Hogwarts Legacy)

Stranger Things (Currently Closed)

Hazbin Hotel (Currently Closed)

Helluva Boss (Only Certain Characters)

Pirates of the Caribbean (Currently Closed)

The Lord of The Rings (Currently Closed)

The Hobbit (Only Certain Characters)

The Rings of Power (Currently Closed)

Five Nights at Freddy's (Currently Closed)

Game of Thrones (Only Certain Characters)

House of the Dragon (Only Certain Characters)

Hunger Games (Currently Closed)

The Maze Runner (Currently Closed)

Rick and Morty (Currently Closed)

Cuphead (Currently Closed)

The Chronicles of Narnia (Currently Closed)

BBC Sherlock (Currently Closed)

DC (Opened For The Penguin series, Harley Quinn series and The Dark Knight Only)

Marvel (Opened For X-Men Movies and Series and Deadpool Trilogy Only)

La Casa De Papel (Currently Closed)

Avatar: The Last Airbender (Currently Closed)

Bendy and the Ink Machine (Currently Closed)

Peaky Blinders (Currently Closed)

The Last Of Us (Open For The HBO Series Only)

The Boys (Open)

Good Omens (Currently Closed)

Welcome Home ARG (Currently Closed)

Fallout (Currently Closed)

Star Wars (Currently Closed)

The Walking Dead (Currently Closed)

The Mandela Catalogue (Currently Closed)

The Slasherverse (Only Certain Characters/Movies)

Dead by Daylight (Currently Closed)

Sonic the Hedgehog (Open For Sonic Movies, Sonic Prime and Sonic Boom Only and Only Certain Characters)

Detroit: Become Human (Request Will Be Considered)

Kingsman (Open)

Tim Burton Movies (Open)

Narcos (Currently Closed)

Squid Game (Open)

Random Movies (Request Will Be Considered)

Any movie with [x] (Only Certain Movies)

Specials

Advent Calendar 2024 Masterlist

Bouquets of Pedro Creativity Challenge

Please, remember!

I am about to graduate, have obligations and my life as well! Besides that, I am not in a stable mental state sometimes. These things might cause delays in delivering requests.

Please, be patient! Your requests will be written and sent out, no matter how long it might take!

Lastly, English is not my first language. Even though I consider myself good at it, I can make mistakes as well. Please tell me if you find any grammar or any other kind of mistake so I can fix them up as soon as possible!

uh oh! sad daneto art again 👁 👁

inspired by chapter 11 of this fanfiction by @overlyobsessed223

process work below the cut

Do you think Charles can affect and control his own mind?

I just imagine him being done with Erik and not wanting to argue, so he puts his fingers to the side of his face and just falls unconscious. Imagine Erik’s shock as Charles just falls to the ground mid-argument.

And, what if he did this in Days of Future Past on the plane. Erik starts naming dead mutants and Charles is just “fuck this, let’s scare the attitude out of him”. And just pretends to dead in front of him.

‼️Spider-Man/X-Men Fic Idea‼️

Spider-Man is one of the least human in the Avengers. Like most of them are human, human with a slight advantage or super soldiers. We do have Thor but he looks and acts like a human, even though he is uncultured and a bit awkward.

But Peter crawls, walks on walls and ceilings, scurry’s on all four and he can bend in weird ways. He can also lift the weight of an elephant, among other things.

Peter finds the School by accident, he’s lost or hurt or both but he sees a guy flying around and thinks “they can probably help me”. He seeks help from Professor X who is probably sceptical but still lets him stay for a few days to get back on his feet.

The students find out that the Avengers prefer it when Peter “acts like a human” instead of a spider and talk X into letting him stay.

Telling Peter that the Avengers are mean to him and trying to get him to stay is harder.

(These are just ideas, you can change stuff if you feel like it, it’s your Fic not mine but I would like to be credited if you take inspiration)

the dissertation is actually going to be in the form of an ao3 work titled after a chess strategy and everything is a metaphor for gay sex or blatant homoerotic tension

the way i could write a 20 page dissertation on the symbolism of cherik's pastime being chess

no i didn't draft a cherik fic where erik is president of a chess club and charles is "new in town" and erik is subtle with his powers and he's also a bit of an asshole because of some silly tragic backstory and charles joins said chess club and they're both on debate

no absolutely not why would i do that when i haven't completed literally anything else

Convetsations While/Dating Peter Maximoff part 2...

Peter Maximoff x gn! reader

A/N: Not my gif

Y/N: I am going to need you to swear-

Peter: Shit.

Y/N:

Y/N: ...swear as in promise.

Peter: This is horrible! This is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to me!

Y/N: Oh-? Even more humiliating than-

Peter: We are not doing this!

Y/N: The first time Peter opened a box of Cheerios and looked inside he yelled, "OH WOW! DONUT SEEDS!"

Y/N: Can I have some water?

Peter: *starts chugging their water bottle*

Peter: *chokes from drinking too fast*

Peter: *spills water all over themself*

Peter, coughing: I don't have any water

Peter: Who's in charge here?

Y/N, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

Peter: Welcome, fellow idiots

Y/N: Hey, Peter

Peter: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot

Y/N: You underestimate me

Y/N: Can you please be serious for five minutes?

Peter: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

Y/N , going over Peter's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you’re creative.

Peter: Yes

Y/N: Okay... may I know what you create?

Peter: Problems.

Peter: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut...

Y/N: You would eat yourself?

Peter: I wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N: What are your goals?

Peter: To pet all the dogs.

Y/N: No, fitness goals.

Peter: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Y/N: What's a word that's a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Jean: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Peter: Smad.

Y/N: Man, I only ever see you awake, do you ever shut down or stop running?

Peter: Oh, I’m always running

Peter: The question is from what-

Part 1

Master List

Welcome to my page! My name is Callme_Bunni, you can call me Bunnie and/or just author!

Multi X Reader!

Lost in a New Island – One Piece

↫彡🂡"My Girl can Wear Whatever"🂡彡↬ X-Men

X-Men Christmas Scenarios – X-Men ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ – One Piece

all I want is you... - One Piece

Quiet Strength - Kny

One Piece X Reader!

LAW

[Tones] – Law X Reader

SANJI

◯𓇋An Enemy's Kiss◯𓇋 – Sanji X Reader

X-Men X Reader!

KURT WAGNER - NIGHTCRAWLER

Jealousy is in the Air – Kurt Wagner x Reader

Falling Into Place – Kurt Wagner X Reader

Unseen Beauty – Kurt Wagner X Reader

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤 – Kurt Wagner X Reader

PETER MAXIMOFF - QUICKSILVER

↫𝒞𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈↬ – Peter Maximoff X Reader

Secret Hideout, Secret Kiss – Peter Maximoff X Reader

ꜱᴛᴏʟᴇɴ 'ʙᴏʀʀᴏᴡᴇᴅ' ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ – Peter Maximoff X Reader

↫Midnight Snacks↬ – Peter Maximoff X Reader

SCOTT SUMMERS - CYCLOPS

(No) Fur and Favoritism – Scott Summers X Reader

Trapped in the Space Between Us – Scott Summers X Reader

REMY LeBEAU - GAMBIT

Hotter Than the Stage – Remy LeBeau X Reader

A Taste of Spice – Remy LeBeau X Reader

Playin' Hearts – Remy LeBeau X Reader

LOGAN HOWLETT - WOLVERINE

Wrapped in Him Synopsis– Logan Howlett X Reader

彡Allies (or Roommates 😉)彡 – Logan Howlett X Reader

CHARLES XAVIER - PROFESSOR X

Worlds Apart, Minds Connected – Charles Xavier X Reader

HANK McCOY - BEAST

🧪"Analyze"🥼 – Hank McCoy X Reader

Creepypasta X Reader!

(coming soon)

Scott Pilgrim (movie or TV show) X Reader!

(coming soon)

Marvel X Reader! (coming soon) Demon Slayer X Reader! (coming soon)

🧪"Analyze"🥼

Hank had been rambling about some new formula for the past fifteen minutes. You had been listening, truly, but somewhere along the way, you had started focusing more on him than on the science.

The way his hands moved as he explained things, careful yet enthusiastic. The way his eyes lit up with that unmistakable spark of curiosity. The way his fur bristled slightly when he got too into his own thoughts, like he was trying to physically keep up with his own genius.

Yeah. You were completely distracted.

"Are you even listening?"

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts to find Hank staring at you over his glasses, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

"I—yes," you said, though it was not very convincing.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned against the lab table. "Alright then. What was I just explaining?"

You grinned, tilting your head. "Something about molecular structures?"

Hank sighed, though there was no real frustration behind it. "You are impossible."

"And yet, you still love me."

"That is the mystery of the century," he teased.

You huffed dramatically, pushing yourself up onto the lab table beside him. "Alright, fine, I was not listening. But in my defense, you are very distracting."

His ears twitched slightly. "Distracting?"

"Yes. Very. You get all… passionate and smart, and it is attractive, Hank."

His fur darkened at that—his version of blushing—and you bit back a smirk at the way he ducked his head, suddenly very interested in the papers in front of him.

"You are ridiculous," he muttered, but there was affection in his voice.

You leaned closer, resting your chin in your hand. "Mm. Maybe. But you love that, too."

Hank exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. Then, without looking at you, he murmured, "You are my favorite experiment."

Your breath caught. "Oh?"

Finally, he glanced at you, blue eyes warm but playful. "Mhm. I have spent quite a bit of time analyzing you, you know."

"Oh, have you?" You leaned in just a little more.

He hummed. "I have studied the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. The way you somehow always manage to distract me, despite my best efforts. The way your heartbeat picks up when I stand too close."

Your heart did exactly that, and judging by his grin, he noticed.

"That is hardly scientific," you argued, though your voice was softer now.

Hank smirked. "Perhaps. But I have come to one conclusion after all my research."

"And what is that?"

He reached up, brushing a stray hair from your face before letting his fingers linger along your jaw. His voice was gentle, affectionate.

"I am completely and utterly in love with you."

Your breath hitched, and then you were closing the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He melted into it, hands settling at your waist like you were something delicate and precious.

When you finally pulled away, you smiled. "That is a pretty good conclusion, Dr. McCoy."

He laughed, resting his forehead against yours. "It is my most important discovery yet."

↫彡🂡"My Girl can Wear Whatever"🂡彡↬

↫Peter Maximoff↬

You were just trying to get a snack. That was it. But the moment you stepped into the kitchen, Peter nearly dropped his Twinkie.

"Whoa—" His silver brows shot up as his eyes scanned your outfit. Not in a gross way, but in a "Do I need to start running?" way.

You raised a brow. "Problem?"

Peter shook his head way too fast. "Nope! No problems here. You can wear whatever you want, babe."

Jubilee, sitting at the counter, smirked. "Really? You don’t care?"

Peter scoffed, tossing an arm around your shoulders. "Pfft. Why would I? My girl can wear whatever she wants..." He hesitated, glancing at you and then lowering his voice. "...'cause I'm scared of her."

You narrowed your eyes. "What was that last part?"

"Nothing!" He grinned nervously, stepping back. "You look amazing! Stunning! Fantastic! A completely independent person with great fashion sense! I love that for you!"

Jubilee cackled. "Dude, you are terrified of her."

"Well, yeah," Peter said without shame. "Like, you think I'm about to tell her no? You think I got a death wish? Nah, I value my life, I like my face. I’d like to keep it in one piece."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry. "Good answer, Maximoff."

Peter sighed in relief. You were scary, but hey, at least you were his scary.

彡Logan彡

Logan had been minding his business at the bar when you walked in, dressed in something that made half the room do a double take.

He noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed. But instead of reacting like some jealous, overprotective boyfriend, he just sipped his whiskey.

It was not until some guy at the pool table let his eyes linger a second too long that Logan made a noise in the back of his throat—a low, rumbling ahem that sent a very clear message.

The guy turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Logan smirked, tapping a single claw against his glass. "Nothin'. Just wonderin' if you're stupid or just feelin' lucky tonight."

The guy scoffed. "Relax, old man, it's just a look."

"Mm. See, I ain’t too worried ‘bout what she wears." Logan tilted his head, eyes sharp. "She can wear whatever she wants… ‘cause I can fight." He flashed his Adamantium claws.

The guy raised his hands and backed off real quick. Logan just chuckled, downing the rest of his drink.

You leaned against the bar beside him. "You always gotta scare people?"

He shrugged. "Ain’t my fault they spook easy."

You smirked. "You are such a show-off."

Logan just grunted, but the way he slid a possessive arm around your waist told you everything you needed to know.

🂡Remy LeBeau🂡

Remy was kicked back on the mansion's couch, long legs stretched out, flipping a poker chip between his fingers. He had seen you walk in, noticed the way heads turned, but unlike the others, he did not bat an eye.

Jubilee, being Jubilee, could not help but stir the pot. "Remy, you just gonna let her walk around like that?"

Remy did not even look up from his poker chip. "Remy think his chérie can wear whatever she want," he said lazily.

"Yeah?" Jubilee smirked. "You that confident?"

He flicked the chip up, caught it between two fingers, and finally smirked. "Mm-hmm. ‘Cause she's a houe, and I knew that before we started dating."

Gasps. Laughter. Even Logan huffed out an amused breath from the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Remy grinned, finally looking at you. "What? You know it’s true, chérie. I fell for you ‘cause you a heartbreaker. A flirt. A menace." He tilted his head, voice dropping to a lazy drawl. "And yet, here we are."

You crossed your arms. "That does not make it better, you know."

"But it is true, non?" He flashed that dangerous, charming grin. "An’ I do not mind one bit."

You rolled your eyes, but you could not stop the small smirk tugging at your lips. Damn Cajun and his smooth talk.

Jubilee snorted. "I hate that he actually got away with that."

Remy just winked.

Hope you all enjoyed!! Love you all, kits! (houe means hoe in French. Idk what else to put there T ' T)

Titles

Quicksilver-  ↫ ↬

Wolverine- 彡 彡

Scott Summers- 💥 💥

Gambit- 🂡

Kurt- 🌒 🌘

Hank- 🧪 🥼

Charles- 𖡎 🧠

Magneto- 🔗🧲

Jealousy is in the Air

Synopsis: When a charming newcomer to the team takes a little too much interest in you, Kurt Wagner finds himself battling an unfamiliar feeling—jealousy. His usual calm demeanor wavers as he awkwardly tries to mask his growing frustration. Despite his best efforts to stay composed, his swishing tail and brooding glances give him away. It doesn’t take long for you to notice, and when you confront him about it, he shyly admits his feelings, afraid he might have overstepped. Reassuring him that your heart belongs to him, you manage to turn his jealousy into a moment of tenderness, leaving Kurt flustered but undeniably happy.

The laughter in the rec room was lively, everyone enjoying a rare moment of peace. You had found yourself in conversation with a charming newcomer—someone fresh to the team and eager to make connections. They were easy to talk to, asking questions about your work and hobbies, their attention focused solely on you.

Across the room, Kurt tried to stay engaged with the small group he was sitting with, but his golden eyes kept darting to you. It wasn’t hard to miss how the newcomer leaned a little closer to hear you better, their smile a little too wide for Kurt’s liking. His tail swished sharply behind him, nearly knocking over a nearby chair.

“Easy there, Kurt,” Jubilee teased, nudging him with her elbow. “What’d that chair ever do to you?”

He cleared his throat, attempting to mask his irritation. “It is...nothing. Just stretching.”

His attempt at nonchalance failed miserably as his gaze returned to you, watching as the newcomer made you laugh—a laugh Kurt adored hearing. He tried to busy himself by sipping his soda, only to realize he’d drained the can in one go.

“Are you okay, Wagner? You look like you’re gonna pop a vein,” Logan grumbled, not bothering to hide his smirk.

“I am fine,” Kurt insisted, though his tail betrayed him by thumping against the floor.

Finally, you noticed Kurt’s unusual behavior. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you crossed the room and plopped into the empty seat beside him. “What’s with all the glaring?” you teased, leaning a little closer.

“I was not glaring,” he protested, though his ears flushed a deeper blue.

“Oh, really? Then what do you call this?” You mimicked his brooding expression, furrowing your brows and squinting your eyes.

He sighed, his tail curling around one of the chair legs. “I suppose... I may have been a little jealous,” he admitted, avoiding your gaze. “You are...very special to me, and I did not like the way they were looking at you.”

A warm smile spread across your face. “Kurt, you don’t have to worry about that. I was just being polite. Besides...” You placed a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re the only one who gets my attention like that.”

His golden eyes lit up at your words, the tension in his shoulders melting away. “Really?”

“Really.”

Kurt’s tail unwound from the chair and hesitantly wrapped around your wrist, a shy but affectionate gesture that made your heart flutter. His smile, wide and full of relief, was worth every moment of teasing him earlier.

Unable to resist the adorable way his ears flushed and his golden eyes lit up, you leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Kurt froze, his tail snapping upright before swinging sharply to the side—and knocking over the chair he had been sitting on moments ago.

The loud clatter turned every head in the room, but Kurt’s wide, sheepish grin as he looked back at you made it impossible for you to feel embarrassed.

“Was that your tail or the chair’s fault this time?” you teased, biting back a laugh.

“It is both,” he stammered, ears darkening to an even deeper blue. “But mostly the tail.”

His flustered reaction only made you laugh harder, leaning into him as he rubbed the back of his neck. Even with the eyes of the room on you both, Kurt’s gaze never left yours, his smile growing softer by the second.

彡Allies (or Roommates 😉)彡

Synopsis; Basically, reader with Deadpool's personality

Warnings; Deadpool's personality.

“Can you stop bouncing around for one damn second?” Logan growled, his claws halfway extended as he glared at you.

You peeked out from behind a tree, grinning like you’d just found a box of explosives labeled do not touch. “Stop bouncing? Bouncing on what exactly, honey badger? You naughty bear! But anyways, bouncing is literally my thing. Well, that and making grown men cry. Speaking of which, do you need a tissue for all that gruff man pain you’re radiating?”

Logan ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. “I should’ve left you back at the mansion.”

“You say that every time, and yet, here we are. Together. Like peanut butter and jelly. Or whiskey and bad decisions. Or—you’re gonna love this one—claws and quips.” You spread your arms dramatically. “See? Perfect pair.”

Logan glared. “I’ll give you ten seconds to start acting serious before I—”

“Snikt me into ribbons? Oh, Logan, you romantic devil.” You clasped your hands over your chest, batting your eyelashes. “You’re always threatening me. It’s like foreplay.”

He groaned audibly and turned back to the trail, trying to ignore you.

“Aw, don’t walk away, sugar bear!” you called, jogging to catch up. “We’re just getting to the good stuff. I had, like, three more zingers about your height lined up. Oh, wait—four if you count the one about the step stool.”

Logan didn’t even pause. “I’m too old for this.”

“You’re right. You are ancient.” You walked backward in front of him, ticking off points on your fingers. “Wrinkles, grumpy attitude, that permanent smell of cigars and regret—classic ‘dad who went out for milk and never came back’ vibes. Except you came back, and now we’re stuck with each other. It’s poetic, really.”

Logan stopped, his claws popping out with a loud snikt.

You held your hands up. “Whoa, whoa. Easy there, Freddy Krueger. I’m on your side, remember? You handle the claws, and I’ll handle the witty one-liners.”

“You mean the non-stop verbal diarrhea?” Logan growled, his claws retracting.

“Potato, po-tah-to,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, you love it. Admit it, Logan—you’d be bored out of your mind without me. Who else is gonna make jokes about your weird fetish for flannel?”

Logan’s lip twitched—just barely—but you caught it.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, pointing at him. “You’re smiling. That’s it. I’ve broken the Wolverine. Next stop: Hallmark movies.”

He turned and started walking, muttering, “I need a drink.”

You zipped in front of him again, walking backward with your hands on your hips. “You’re stuck with me, bub. Just think of me as your wise-cracking, ridiculously attractive conscience. Except I don’t actually care if you do the right thing, as long as we get to blow something up along the way.”

Logan gave you a long, tired look. “You keep this up, and I’m gonna let the bad guys have you.”

“Aw, you say that now, but wait until I save your hairy butt with my ingenious improvisation skills. You’ll be begging to team up with me again,” you teased, leaning in with a wink.

“Not a chance,” he replied, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You love me!” you called after him, skipping to catch up. “Admit it!”

“Shut up,” Logan muttered, though he didn’t sound entirely convincing.

↫Midnight Snacks↬

Synopsis: In the middle of the night, you are met with an annoyingly awake speedster. Maybe you could share this small moment with him. And maybe like it...

Warnings; none!!

The mansion was silent at this hour, the kind of quiet that made every creak of the floorboards and every hum of the refrigerator seem louder than they actually were. You shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and headed straight for the fridge.

“Midnight munchies, huh?”

You yelped, nearly slamming your head into the fridge door as you spun around. Peter was leaning casually in the doorway, arms crossed and a trademark smirk plastered on his face.

“Peter!” you hissed, clutching the carton of milk you’d grabbed as if it were a weapon. “Do you get off on scaring me?”

“Pretty much,” he replied, zipping into the kitchen and leaning on the counter next to you. “So, what’s on the menu? Leftover pizza? Ice cream? A questionable combination of both?”

“Hot chocolate,” you said, setting the milk on the counter.

“Classic,” Peter said, nodding approvingly. “Mind if I join?”

“Do I have a choice?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he said, already grabbing mugs from the cabinet at super-speed. He tossed them onto the counter with a flourish. “Allow me to assist.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you reached for the saucepan. “Fine. But no super-speed stirring. You’ll spill everywhere.”

Peter gasped in mock offense. “What kind of culinary amateur do you take me for?”

“The kind who’s broken three blenders trying to make milkshakes.”

“That was one time,” he protested. “Okay, maybe three. But this is different.”

While the milk heated, Peter zipped around the kitchen, gathering whipped cream, sprinkles, and a bag of marshmallows. By the time you poured the hot chocolate into the mugs, the counter looked like a sugar-filled battlefield.

“Subtle,” you said, gesturing to the mountain of toppings.

Peter shrugged. “Go big or go home.”

He grabbed a mug, piling on an absurd amount of whipped cream and marshmallows before sprinkling the whole thing with a generous handful of chocolate shavings. He took a sip and promptly got whipped cream on his nose.

You burst out laughing, setting your own mug down. “You’ve got a little something…”

“Where?” he asked, crossing his eyes in an attempt to see the mess.

“Here, let me—” You reached out to wipe it off, but before you could, Peter licked it away at super-speed, flashing you a smug grin.

“Got it,” he said.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“But charmingly so,” he countered, clinking his mug against yours. “Admit it—midnight snacks are better with me around.”

You sipped your hot chocolate, pretending to think about it. “Mmm… debatable.”

Peter gasped dramatically. “Rude! You’re lucky I like you.”

You smirked, leaning against the counter as the two of you sipped your drinks. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was warm, comfortable, the kind of quiet that came with knowing someone so well you didn’t need to fill every second with words.

“Okay,” you said after a while. “Maybe you’re not that bad.”

“Now that’s the spirit,” Peter said, giving you a playful nudge. “Told you—I’m the ultimate midnight snack buddy.”

↫𝒞𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈↬

Synopsis; After a particularly rough mission, you are welcomed by your favorite speedster and his warmth.

Warnings; none! <3

The mission had been an absolute disaster—or at least that’s how it felt. Every step back into the X-Mansion was like dragging lead weights, and your entire body screamed for rest. You had enough energy to kick off your boots but not enough to make it to your room. Instead, you flopped onto the couch in the common room, burying your face into a throw pillow with a muffled groan.

The familiar whoosh of displaced air and the sound of a chip bag crinkling were your only warning before Peter Maximoff appeared, standing over you like some kind of smug vending machine mascot.

“Well, well, look who’s all tuckered out,” he teased, dropping onto the couch beside you.

You didn’t bother lifting your head. “Go away, Peter.”

“Nah,” he said, already popping a chip into his mouth. “This is way more entertaining. Plus, I brought snacks. You should be thanking me.”

“I can’t even move,” you muttered, your voice muffled by the pillow.

Peter snorted, tossing the bag of chips onto the coffee table. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here. Move over.”

You turned your head just enough to squint at him. “What?”

“Scoot,” he repeated, nudging your shoulder. “You look like you need some of my patented Peter Maximoff TLC. And by that, I mean cuddles.”

“Since when do you cuddle anyone?”

“Since now,” he said with a grin. “Come on, don’t make me beg. It’s undignified.”

With a dramatic sigh, you shifted over slightly, allowing him to wedge himself beside you. He wasted no time draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest, tugging the blanket from the back of the couch to cover both of you.

“There. Cozy, right?” he said, leaning back and resting his head against the couch.

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. “This is weirdly nice.”

“‘Weirdly nice’ is my middle name,” Peter quipped, his hand coming up to trace absentminded circles on your arm.

For a guy who couldn’t sit still for more than five seconds, Peter had a surprisingly calming presence. The tension in your shoulders started to melt away, and you found yourself sinking deeper into the cushions.

“Thanks, Pete,” you murmured, your voice soft.

He looked down at you, his usual smirk replaced by something gentler. “Hey, you did good out there. Don’t let your brain tell you otherwise, okay?”

You gave a small nod, your eyes growing heavy.

“Go ahead and sleep,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’ll stick around, just in case you need me.”

The last thing you heard before drifting off was the sound of him quietly humming some old 80s song, the warmth of his arm around you lulling you into peace.

X-Men Christmas Scenarios

Scott Summers (Cyclops): Decorating the Tree

The living room was filled with the scent of pine and the soft hum of Christmas music. You were perched on a step stool, reaching to hang a snowflake ornament on one of the higher branches. Scott stood behind you, holding the box of decorations, watching you with an amused but cautious expression.

“You know,” he said, “if you fall, I can’t catch you. I’m holding fragile glass ornaments here.”

“You could try to catch me,” you shot back, placing the snowflake and hopping off the stool. “Besides, I’m nimble.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Nimble enough to handle the tinsel? Because last year, it looked like a five-year-old threw it on the tree.”

“Hey!” You grabbed a handful of the shiny strands. “It’s called artistic expression. Watch and learn.”

He didn’t have to watch long before you gleefully tossed the tinsel into the air, letting it cascade haphazardly onto the branches.

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose. “You cannot be serious.”

“Dead serious,” you said, smirking as you grabbed more tinsel. “And if you don’t like it—”

You flung another handful, this time deliberately aiming for his head.

Scott sighed dramatically, pulling a stray strand off his visor. “You do this to torment me, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek before grabbing another handful of tinsel and sprinting to the other side of the tree.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler): Christmas Morning Surprise

The soft glow of fairy lights framed the edges of your room as you stirred awake, blinking against the dim light. Before you could properly sit up, a burst of brimstone filled the air, and Kurt appeared at the foot of your bed, arms overflowing with brightly wrapped presents.

“Guten Morgen! Merry Christmas!” he exclaimed, his tail wagging behind him like an overexcited puppy.

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Kurt, it’s barely six in the morning.”

“But it’s Christmas!” he insisted, depositing the pile of gifts at the foot of your bed. His golden eyes sparkled with excitement as he plopped down on the edge of the mattress, bouncing slightly. “Come, open them! I cannot wait to see what you think.”

You yawned, smiling at his enthusiasm. “You carried all of these in one trip?”

“Of course! I teleported. Efficient and festive,” he said proudly, his tail curling in contentment.

You reached for the first gift, marveling at the careful wrapping. “You wrapped these yourself?”

His ears turned a deeper blue. “Ja...well, mostly. Jubilee helped me tie the ribbons.”

As you opened the first present—a beautifully carved wooden trinket—you couldn’t help but laugh. “This is amazing, Kurt. Did you make this too?”

He beamed. “Ja, but there’s more! Keep going!”

You shook your head fondly, already knowing this would be the best Christmas morning you’d ever had.

Logan (Wolverine): Building a Fire

You found Logan crouched in front of the fireplace, carefully stacking logs with an intensity that made it look like he was preparing for battle rather than a cozy evening. His plaid flannel shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, revealing his scarred but capable hands.

“Need some help there, lumberjack?” you teased, leaning against the doorframe.

“Not unless you can make the wood light itself,” he shot back without looking up.

“Matches are a thing, you know.”

“Matches are cheating.” He struck a piece of flint against steel, and sparks flew. After a few more tries, the fire roared to life, casting a warm glow across the room.

“Very impressive,” you said, walking over and sitting cross-legged on the rug. “What’s next? Are you going to chop more wood with your claws?”

He smirked, finally turning to look at you. “If you ask nicely.”

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a Santa hat and plopped it onto his head. He frowned, his hand immediately going up to pull it off.

“Leave it,” you said, grabbing his wrist. “It’s festive.”

“It’s ridiculous,” he grumbled but didn’t take it off.

You tilted your head, grinning. “You secretly love Christmas, don’t you?”

“Don’t push your luck, kid,” he muttered, but there was a twinkle in his eye that told you otherwise.

Peter Maximoff (Quicksilver): String Lights Disaster

You should’ve known asking Peter to hang the lights would end in chaos.

“Peter, slow down!” you yelled, watching as he zipped back and forth across the room, leaving a blur of glowing string lights in his wake.

“This is efficient,” he called back, draping the lights haphazardly over the furniture. “You said you wanted them up fast, right?”

“I also said I wanted them to look nice!”

He stopped abruptly, standing in the middle of the room with the lights tangled around his torso. “Nice is overrated. Messy is more... artistic.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a pointed look. “You’re tangled, aren’t you?”

Peter looked down, as if just noticing the strands wrapped around him. “Uh...no?”

“Uh-huh.”

He sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Fine, maybe a little.”

Laughing, you walked over and started untangling him, trying not to laugh too hard when he pouted like a child.

“You know,” he said as you freed him, “if you’d just let me do my thing, we’d already be done.”

“And if I let you do your thing, the mansion would probably catch fire.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Worth it."

Yall, I'm sick. Like- Coughing so hard imma throw up but can't kinda sick. So, you either might get some more fics from me staying home, or only get 1 or 2. I'm srry! 🥲😭😭

Wrapped in Him

Synopsis: After a long day of work, Logan returns to the cabin expecting the usual quiet, but instead, he finds you fast asleep in his leather jacket. The sight—and the way you’ve wrapped yourself in his scent—stirs something warm and tender in him. As he watches you nestled in the firelight, Logan is reminded of the quiet, unexpected comfort of having someone who feels like home.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff! Hope you enjoy kits <3 Also this is Lumberjack! Logan

The cabin was steeped in a cozy hush when Logan walked through the door, boots scuffing against the wooden threshold. Outside, the wind howled faintly through the pines, but inside, the crackle of the fire and the faint aroma of woodsmoke wrapped the space in warmth.

He kicked off his boots, rolling his shoulders to ease the day’s work from his muscles. The scent of the forest clung to his flannel shirt—pine sap, freshly split logs, and the ever-present, faint tang of cigars lingering in his jacket. Except, his jacket wasn’t hanging by the door where he’d left it.

Logan frowned, scanning the room, and then he spotted it. There it was, draped over your small frame as you curled up in the oversized armchair near the fire.

His frown melted into something softer.

You were fast asleep, your legs tucked beneath you and his heavy leather jacket cocooned around your shoulders. The rich brown leather swallowed you whole, the sleeves falling limp past your hands. One sleeve hung over the arm of the chair like an afterthought, while the other was pulled snug around your body.

He stepped closer, careful to keep his heavy footsteps quiet on the wooden floor. As he approached, the mix of scents became undeniable: the worn leather of his jacket mingled with the smoky remnants of his favorite cigars, all blending into something entirely him. The way you clutched the collar close to your face, your fingers resting there as though it brought you comfort, made something warm settle deep in his chest.

Logan crouched beside you, his knees groaning slightly from the long day’s work. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers light against your skin. The firelight painted your features in golden hues, soft and serene, your lips parted slightly in sleep.

You stirred under his touch, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out, and shifted deeper into the chair, burying your nose into the jacket’s collar. A faint smile pulled at your lips as you sighed, clearly content.

“Damn thief,” Logan muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, though there was no trace of irritation—just warmth and a trace of amusement.

Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to breathe in the faint scent of your shampoo beneath the leather and smoke. It was grounding, soothing in a way he’d never admit out loud.

When he pulled back, he took a moment to simply watch you, his sharp eyes softening as the firelight flickered across your peaceful expression. The way you’d stolen his jacket—without so much as a word—was such a small thing, but it hit him harder than he’d ever expect. You didn’t just wear his jacket. You wore him, and you looked so at home in it that the thought made his heart ache in the best way.

Shaking his head, Logan grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it carefully over you, tucking it in where the jacket didn’t quite cover.

“You’re lucky it looks better on you,” he whispered, his lips twitching into a quiet smile.

Straightening, he ran a hand through his thick hair, his fingers lingering on the back of his neck as he turned toward the kitchen. He still smelled faintly of pine and cigars, but now, there was something sweeter in the air.

Tomorrow, he’d tease you about it, maybe pull the jacket off your shoulders just to watch you fuss and steal it right back. But tonight, he’d let you keep it. After all, it suited you.

And so did being his.

ꜱᴛᴏʟᴇɴ 'ʙᴏʀʀᴏᴡᴇᴅ' ʜᴇᴀʀᴛꜱ

Synopsis: Peter Maximoff has a habit of borrowing little things—your scarf, your hoodie, even your headphones—and you’re finally fed up with his carelessness. But when you confront him, his explanation catches you completely off guard: he isn’t just borrowing, he’s keeping pieces of you close. As you unravel the truth behind his impulsive actions, you discover that sometimes, even speedsters need someone to anchor them—and maybe, just maybe, you don’t mind being the one he keeps running back to. Warnings: None! <3

It starts small. A scarf you draped over the back of your chair one evening vanishes without a trace. Days later, you spot it wound loosely around Peter’s neck as he lounges on the couch, the ends fluttering whenever he shifts.

Then it’s your favorite hoodie—a soft, worn thing that feels like a hug in fabric form. You find it carelessly tossed across the rec room sofa, smelling faintly of cool air and his cologne.

You tell yourself it’s harmless, even charming. Peter is Peter: the kind of person who moves too fast to consider boundaries. But when your headphones disappear and reappear in his room—one earbud dangling by a precarious wire—you decide you’ve had enough.

The next time he zips into the room, you plant yourself in front of him, hands on your hips.

"Peter Maximoff," you say, your tone sharper than usual. "We need to talk."

He skids to a stop, blinking at you with wide, guileless eyes. "Uh, okay? What’s up?"

"Stop stealing my stuff."

His expression morphs into mock offense, a hand flying to his chest. "Stealing? That’s a harsh word. I’m merely borrowing. Temporarily."

"Temporarily?" You arch an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "My scarf, my hoodie, my headphones? Borrowing means you return them intact."

"Fine," he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "You caught me. But I swear, I’ve got a good reason."

"Let’s hear it."

He hesitates, shifting his weight from foot to foot. For once, Peter looks out of place, like he’d rather be anywhere but here. His usual smirk falters, and something softer flickers across his face—something vulnerable.

"I—" He stops, sighing again, before finally meeting your eyes. "They smell like you, okay?"

You blink, unsure you heard him right. "What?"

"They smell like you," he repeats, quieter this time. His cheeks flush pink, and he looks down, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "The scarf, the hoodie… even your stupid headphones. They smell like your shampoo, or your perfume, or just… you."

He swallows, his voice almost too low to hear. "When I’m not around you, it makes me feel like you’re still close. Like I’m not..." His words trail off, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "I don’t know. Alone, I guess."

For a moment, you’re stunned. This is Peter—confident, reckless, always in motion. But now he’s standing here, red-faced and vulnerable, avoiding your gaze like he’s afraid of what you might say.

When you step closer, his head snaps up, his gray eyes searching your face.

"Peter," you say softly, your tone gentle now. "You could’ve just told me."

"Yeah, well." He shrugs, forcing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "Talking about feelings isn’t really my thing, you know? Speeding away from them? Way more my style."

You can’t help but laugh, your chest tightening in a way that feels both warm and bittersweet. "You’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously charming, right?" He tries to smirk, but his voice still holds that edge of hesitation, like he’s testing the waters.

Shaking your head, you smile. "Next time, just ask. You don’t need to steal my stuff to feel close to me."

His grin widens, but there’s a softness to it now, his usual cocky mask slipping just enough for you to see the relief beneath.

"Really?"

"Really," you say, your smile growing. "But if you touch my headphones again, I’m going to kill you."

Peter’s laughter rings out as he zips away, scarf trailing behind him like a silver banner. But later, when you find the hoodie neatly folded on your bed—your favorite scent lingering faintly on the fabric—you can’t help but smile. As much as Peter runs from his emotions, he always finds a way back to you.

Hotter Than the Stage

Synopsis: After a sultry performance, Remy invites you to a private room for a personal show. The dimly lit space, charged with palpable tension, becomes the backdrop for an intimate, slow dance where every movement teases and entices. As Remy strips down and moves toward you, his every action is designed to draw you in, building an undeniable chemistry between you. What starts as a private dance quickly turns into a passionate, unforgettable night, as Remy makes it clear that tonight, you're the only one who matters.

Warnings: A little sensual. Hope you enjoy, kits! 😘

After a long, exhausting night of performances, the club was starting to quiet down, but you knew Remy wasn’t done. You’d always admired his confidence on stage, but there was something about the way he looked at you tonight that made everything feel more intense, more personal.

He beckoned you toward his dressing room, where the music had faded and the lights were dim, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. The door shut softly behind you, and as soon as it clicked, Remy turned to face you.

A sly smile curved on his lips as he approached, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. "Thought I’d give you a little private show, chérie."

You didn’t even have time to respond before he was unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his toned chest, the muscles shifting as he moved. His hands lingered on his pants, teasing you as if he had all the time in the world. The air felt charged as he stepped closer, his body radiating heat.

With a smooth motion, he guided you to sit on the couch, his hands gentle but firm as he hovered over you. “Relax, mon cœur,” he whispered, his voice low and velvety. “This is just for you.”

Before you could say a word, he was dancing around you, every move calculated and mesmerizing. He swayed his hips to an imaginary beat, each twist and turn smooth like silk. You could feel the tension between you two building with every step he took, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes darkened with desire.

Remy slowly closed the distance between you, leaning in close enough that his breath brushed against your ear. “You know,” he said, his voice a sultry whisper, “this is just the beginning. I’m not stopping until you’ve got no doubt what you mean to me.”

His lips barely grazed your neck before he pulled away, his hands moving down his own body as he unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. You swallowed hard, caught between the raw intensity of the moment and the heat swirling between you.

Without a word, he guided you to lie back on the couch, and as he climbed over you, the space between your bodies grew impossibly small. His movements were slow, sensual, teasing as he kissed your lips, your neck, your jaw. Everything he did was designed to drive you crazy, to leave you wanting more.

Finally, he stopped, pulling back just enough to look at you with that signature grin. “Told you, chérie,” he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m all yours tonight.”

And just like that, the world outside his dressing room ceased to exist as he gave you a night you’d never forget.

(Yall like Magic Mike!Remy?)

Playin' Hearts

Synopsis; A playful game of pickpocketing with Gambit turns into a quiet evening of jazz, dancing, and stolen moments. As the teasing gives way to sincerity, you find the courage to make the first move, discovering that some risks are worth taking. Warnings; None kits! <3

You frowned as your hand brushed against something unfamiliar in your coat pocket. Fishing it out, you discovered a playing card—a queen of hearts—marked with a small, flourished "R" in the corner. You turned it over, puzzled, trying to figure out how it had gotten there.

“You dropped somethin’, chérie,” came a familiar, honeyed voice behind you.

Spinning around, you found Remy leaning casually against the doorframe, twirling another card between his fingers. That trademark smirk of his was firmly in place, a glint of mischief lighting his red-on-black eyes.

"Did I now?" you asked, holding up the card. "Care to explain how it ended up in my pocket?"

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Can’t blame me for wantin’ to stay close to you, non? Thought you might enjoy a lil’ reminder of me.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped closer, card in hand. “You’re telling me you pickpocketed me just to leave… this?”

“Not just any card, chère.” He tapped the queen of hearts with his fingertip. “It’s got a meanin’. You’re sharp; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You couldn’t help the warmth rising to your cheeks, but you refused to let him win so easily. “If you’re so good at sneaking things into my pockets, guess I’ll have to start keeping them zipped.”

“Aw, now don’t do that,” he teased, his voice a low, velvety drawl. “Would make my job so much less fun.”

Shaking your head, you tried to hide your smile as you walked away, but his chuckle followed you down the hall. When you reached into your pocket later that day and found another card—a joker this time—you couldn’t help but laugh.

Gambit always had a way of leaving an impression.

Later that evening, you wandered into the common room to find Remy sitting on the couch, shuffling his deck of cards with practiced ease. He looked up as you entered, that perpetual smirk softening into something warmer when he saw you.

“Evenin’, chère,” he drawled, sliding the cards into a neat stack and setting them aside. “Come to accuse me of more mischief?”

You crossed your arms, pretending to consider. “Depends. Find anything else to slip into my pockets?”

He stood, hands raised in mock innocence. “Now why would I risk it? You’d catch me red-handed.”

“Maybe I’d let you off easy.” The words escaped before you could think twice, and the flicker of surprise in his expression sent your heart racing.

Remy stepped closer, his movements fluid and unhurried. “Careful, mon cœur. A man could take that as an invitation.”

You tilted your head, trying to keep your composure. “And what if it is?”

For a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes shifted to something deeper, more earnest. Without a word, he reached for the old radio on the shelf and turned the dial until soft jazz crackled through the room.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

Caught off guard, you hesitated. “I don’t—”

“Don’t matter if you can,” he interrupted gently, taking your hand in his. “Just follow my lead.”

Before you could argue, he pulled you close, one hand settling lightly on your waist while the other held your hand securely in his. The warmth of his touch and the way he swayed with effortless rhythm made it impossible not to relax.

The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, moving together in the soft glow of the room. You found yourself smiling as his fingers gave yours a playful squeeze.

“You’re a natural, chère,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety.

Your eyes met his, and suddenly, the teasing facade he so often wore was gone, replaced by something vulnerable and inviting. Heart pounding, you gathered every ounce of courage you had and leaned up, brushing your lips against his.

For a moment, the world stilled. Then, his hand tightened gently at your waist, pulling you closer as he returned the kiss with a slow, deliberate passion that left you breathless.

When you finally pulled back, his lips curved into a grin that could only be described as triumphant. “Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d make the first move,” you countered, your boldness surprising even yourself.

Remy chuckled, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “Chérie, if I’d known that, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time with cards.”

And with that, he spun you back into the dance, holding you close as the music played on

(GAMBIT CONTENT YAY!)

Unseen Beauty

Synopsis; After hearing cruel comments about his appearance, Kurt begins to doubt himself, feeling like he’s something less than human. But with your gentle words and unwavering belief in his beauty and kindness, he begins to see himself through new eyes—eyes that reflect the warmth and worth he truly holds. Warnings; None! Love you and enjoy kits! Requested by @hulkingharbor

You find Kurt sitting alone on the mansion’s steps, his tail curled tightly around him, head lowered as he absently traces patterns in the stone. His usual cheerful demeanor seems to have vanished, replaced with a quiet sadness that tugs at your heart.

“Kurt?” you say softly, sitting beside him. He looks up, and there’s a flicker of surprise in his yellow eyes before he quickly glances away.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he mutters, trying to muster a smile. “I did not mean to be such… gloomy company.”

You shake your head. “You’re never gloomy company. But something’s obviously on your mind.”

For a moment, he hesitates, and then, as if he can no longer hold it in, he sighs, his shoulders slumping. “It’s just… some things people said,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with lingering hurt. “That I look… frightening. A ‘monster’.” He swallows, the words barely audible. “Sometimes it is hard not to see myself that way, too.”

Your heart aches at the pain in his voice. Without thinking, you reach over, gently touching his hand, offering silent reassurance until he finally meets your gaze.

“Kurt, that’s not true. You’re not frightening; you’re beautiful.”

He blinks, caught off guard, and a faint blush colors his cheeks. “You don’t have to say that, you know,” he says, half-smiling, though there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes.

You smile, holding his hand a little tighter. “I want to say it. The way you smile, the kindness in your eyes, the way you care about everyone around you… that’s what makes you so beautiful. And anyone who doesn’t see that? They’re the ones who are missing something.”

His eyes soften, and he looks down, a small, genuine smile breaking through the sadness. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you say, your voice firm. “Every part of you—your laugh, your heart, even your tail—makes you who you are. And who you are is beautiful, Kurt.”

Slowly, his hand relaxes in yours, and his smile grows, warmer now, with a hint of his usual brightness. He lets out a deep breath, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispers. “You do not know how much it means to me.”

You squeeze his hand. “Anytime, Kurt. You’re precious to me. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

As he smiles back at you, the sadness fades, replaced by a quiet gratitude and a spark of confidence you hope will stay with him long after tonight.