Latest Posts by chaoticrockmusic - Page 3

IF YOU FIND ART OF SCOTT, LOGAN, REMY, MAGNETO, VENOM, EDDIE BROCK, WHATEVER PLZ TAG ME AND I AM IN YOUR DEBT!!!!

"He's married you can't like him"

...My brother in crist.

LOOK AT HIMMM

Don't even GET ME STARTED ON THIS MANS CHEST

Bro got bigger tits then Rogue- AND THE MOVIES???

The stuble. THE STUBLE-

I love me a broken man UGGHHH

Just got done watchging X-Men '97 ep 9 w my baddie pookie bear

Uhm. What the actual fuck?-

Girls be like "I can fix him, I can fix him!" Like girlie NO. I WANT A BROKEN GUY SO WE CAN BE BROKEN TOGETHER. If you ain't gonna clean the trash or pick it up might aswell just add more to the pile 🤷

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.

(No) Fur and Favoritism

Synopsis; Your hairless cat has an undeniable favorite—and it’s not you. Whenever Scott is around, the cat abandons all dignity to curl up with him, leaving you as little more than an amused (if slightly jealous) observer. But with Scott grinning at you over the cat’s adoring gaze, you start to wonder if sharing the spotlight with him might not be so bad after all. Warnings; None, enjoy kits! Requested by @milkbean69

You walk into the living room, stopping in your tracks at the sight before you. There, on the couch, is Scott—reclined, reading a book, and completely occupied by the tiny, wrinkled bundle of devotion curled up on his chest, purring as if it’s never been happier.

“Really?” you say, crossing your arms. “I thought I was the one who adopted a cat.”

Scott looks up, suppressing a smile, and gently strokes the cat’s back. “What can I say? I guess I have an irresistible charm.”

Your cat, who usually acts too dignified for much attention, nudges Scott’s hand with its head, encouraging him to keep petting. You watch, mildly exasperated, as your supposed pet melts under his touch, eyes half-closed in bliss.

“Would it kill you to be that nice to me?” you mutter, more to the cat than to Scott.

“Aw, don’t take it personally,” Scott says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Guess it just knows a fellow introvert when it sees one.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re hogging my cat, Summers.”

He raises his hands defensively, but the cat stays put, curling up even closer as if to make its allegiance known. “Hey, it’s not my fault,” he chuckles. “I’m just sitting here.”

As if in response, the cat curls its little paw around his shirt, holding him in place. You sigh, defeated, watching as Scott continues to scratch that perfect spot behind its ears, leaving you feeling like a third wheel in your own living room.

“So… am I going to need to get my own place now?” you ask dryly.

Scott grins, patting the spot next to him on the couch. “Nah, there’s room for both of us. If you’re okay sharing with our cat.”

You can’t help but laugh, finally sitting beside him as your cat—no, their cat—continues to bask in its preferred human’s attention.

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕤

Synopsis; After a nightmare brings Kurt's painful memories of the circus flooding back, he seeks comfort in your presence. Through gentle words and unwavering reassurance, you remind him he’s safe, loved, and finally free of his past.

Warnings; None, enjoy kits!

Requested by @hulkingharbor

A soft whimper stirs you from sleep, faint yet unmistakable. Blinking, you sit up, the dim light from the hallway spilling just enough into your room to reveal a figure curled up in the chair by the door. Even in the shadows, the familiar silhouette—his curled tail, his fur-covered arms hugging himself tightly—tells you it’s Kurt.

“Kurt?” you murmur, voice soft so as not to startle him.

He flinches, his head lifting slightly as his golden eyes meet yours, still clouded with remnants of whatever nightmare had him in its grip. His hands shake, gripping his arms as though grounding himself. His voice is barely a whisper. “I… I did not mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me,” you say, easing yourself off the bed and crossing the room. Kneeling down in front of him, you reach out, gently resting your hand on his. “Did you have a nightmare?”

He nods, looking away, shame edging his gaze. “It… it was about the circus,” he admits, voice tight with remembered pain. “Sometimes, it still haunts me. The cage, the… the crowds, their faces full of fear and hatred. They treated me like an animal, like a… monster.” His voice cracks, barely able to hold back the shame that lingers from all those years.

You squeeze his hand. “Kurt, you’re not a monster. You never were.”

He closes his eyes, as if the words are something he wants to believe but hasn’t fully accepted. “It was not just their words,” he says, his voice strained. “They—there were nights I would not get food, times I was… punished. I still feel the ache from it sometimes, like phantome in my bones.”

Your heart aches, and without a second thought, you pull him into a gentle embrace, wrapping your arms around him. He tenses, surprised, before finally allowing himself to relax into your touch, his breathing gradually evening out as he settles in your arms.

“They were wrong,” you murmur softly against his shoulder. “Those people were cruel, Kurt. But you’re safe now. You’re with people who care about you, who see you for who you truly are.”

He sighs, his head leaning against you, seeming to absorb every word. “It is… hard to remember that sometimes,” he says softly, his voice vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely heard before. “I know I am here, but… it is easy to feel like I am back there again.”

You run your hand down his back gently, hoping to chase away whatever ghosts linger there. “Then I’ll be here to remind you,” you say firmly. “Whenever you need, I’ll remind you that you’re loved, that you’re worthy of kindness, of respect, of happiness. I won’t let you go back to that place—not in your mind, not ever.”

He looks at you, and this time his gaze holds something like hope. “Danke,” he whispers, voice thick. “I do not know what I have done to deserve someone like you.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Kurt,” you say, giving his hand one last squeeze. “You just have to let yourself be loved. Can you do that?”

After a moment, he nods, leaning into you a little more. For tonight, the shadows from his past fade, and as he drifts back to sleep beside you, his breathing finally at peace, you know he believes—if only a little bit—that he’s safe and loved.

Plz do not copy or translate! -Callme_Bunni

Fuck men for making my santards higher then heaven

Guess who just spam-wrote like- I dunno 3 fics? All requests.

HUGH JACKMAN LET ME BITE YOUR ARMS PLZZZZZZZ-

A Taste of Spice

Synopsis; While cooking jambalaya together, Remy and you share playful banter, a little dancing, and a growing connection simmering as warmly as the dish on the stove. With every shared glance and teasing touch, the flirtation turns into something deeper, until one kiss finally seals the promise of what could be.

Warnings; None, enjoy kits! ♡♡♡

Requested by @hulkingharbor

The scent of spices fills the kitchen as Remy guides you through the ingredients for jambalaya, his Cajun accent thicker than usual, adding to the warmth in the room. He's leaning close, too, his arm brushing yours as he reaches for the chopped bell peppers, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You keep stirrin’ it like that, chérie, we’re gonna end up with mush,” he teases, eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you hand him the spoon. “All right, show me, Mr. Expert.”

He takes it, giving the pot a confident stir, his hands moving with an ease you can’t help but admire. “See? It’s all about finesse,” he says, glancing at you. “But I guess that just comes natural to some of us.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Finesse, huh? Next time, I’ll let you chop the onions with that ‘finesse’ you’re so proud of.”

He chuckles, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “Now, now, don’t get jealous, chère. Tell you what—if you chop the next round, I’ll let you have the first taste.”

“Deal,” you say, sliding him a sly smile as you reach for the knife. As you start chopping, you can feel his gaze lingering, warm and appreciative.

When the jambalaya is finally simmering, he takes a spoonful and offers it to you, his gaze softening as he waits for your reaction. You take a taste, savoring the rich, spicy flavor.

“It’s perfect,” you say, smiling. “Must be that ‘finesse’ of yours.”

He raises a brow, pleased. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”

Remy grins, his gaze holding yours for a beat longer than usual. Then he sets the spoon down, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, studying you with an intensity that makes your heart skip.

“Y’know,” he says, his voice low, “this ain’t half as fun when I cook alone.”

You glance up, feeling your cheeks warm. “Is that right? I didn’t know cooking could be so… entertaining.”

He laughs, the sound soft and smooth. “Depends on the company, chérie.” His hand reaches out, a little smudge of flour on his finger, and before you realize it, he dabs it gently on the tip of your nose, his grin widening as he watches your reaction.

“Remy!” You laugh, reaching for a dish towel to swipe at him, but he sidesteps with a fluid ease, his laugh deep and genuine.

“Don’t worry,” he says, still chuckling, “I’ll make it up to you. How ’bout a dance while we wait?” He extends his hand, his fingers warm and inviting, his eyes glinting with that playful, dare-you look.

You hesitate, glancing at the stove where the jambalaya simmers, but something in his gaze is too hard to resist. So, you take his hand, and he pulls you close, his other hand settling comfortably on your waist.

With a practiced grace, Remy leads you in a slow sway across the kitchen, his hand never leaving yours, his eyes locked on yours like you’re the only person in the room. For once, there’s no playful teasing, just a quiet sincerity that catches you off guard.

“You’ve got a good rhythm, chère,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Feels like I could dance with you all night.”

Your breath catches, and before you can think twice, you lean in, your lips brushing his cheek, then lingering at the corner of his mouth. Remy’s breath hitches, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your waist, his gaze falling to your lips.

For a moment, the kitchen fades away, and it’s just the two of you, close, warm, and wrapped in the quiet promise of something more.

“Hope you like spicy,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble against your skin.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, smiling as he finally closes the distance, his kiss as warm and full of sweetness as the jambalaya simmering on the stove.

(I fuckin love Remy)

How do yall feel abt a Magic Mike!Remy LeBeau x Reader?

New Story coming! I got some requests that I absolutely adore so be prepared!!

But while we wait my kits, what is your favorite childhood drink? Mines milk with that strawberry syrup stuff mixed in! 🍓🥛

Worlds Apart, Minds Connected

Synopsis; After a mission goes disastrously wrong, you and Charles are separated, trapped in an unstable facility with only a telepathic link to guide you back to each other. As he navigates you through the darkness, your minds grow closer in ways neither of you expected, creating a bond that will be hard to let go once you finally reunite. The question lingers: will the connection forged in crisis survive beyond the danger?

Warnings; None but kissing the LOVELY James McAvoy uggghhhhh-

Requested by @kaley612!

The last thing you remember is Charles shouting your name before the explosion. The impact threw you back, slamming you against something hard and cold. Dazed and aching, you pushed yourself up, trying to make sense of the chaos around you. Dust settled like snowflakes, a reminder of the blast that had ripped through the building.

The connection flares to life—a warmth, gentle and insistent, nudging at the edges of your mind.

“Can you hear me?”

Charles’s voice is like a balm, familiar and grounding. Relief floods through you as you close your eyes, focusing on that connection.

“Yes, I’m here,” you answer, your mental voice steadier than you feel.

“Are you hurt?”

You swallow, taking quick stock. A few bruises, a splitting headache, but nothing broken. “I’ll survive. What about you?”

“Just a scratch,” he says, though you sense he is holding back. “Listen, we’re separated. I can’t get to you from where I am—there’s debris blocking my path. But I’ll guide you. If we keep this link open, I can see what you see. All you have to do is keep going. Can you do that?”

Your heart pounds, but Charles’s steady presence brings an odd calm over you. “I trust you.”

And, for a beat, there’s silence. You feel a brush of something—warmth, reassurance, and a trace of something deeper that he quickly shields.

“Then let’s go,” he says, his voice like a hand reaching through the darkness.

You stand and begin to move, Charles’s presence a constant pulse in your mind. Each step is careful, shadows twisting as you make your way down the broken hallways, Charles murmuring directions and gentle encouragements, his voice steady even when your path grows perilous. If you could be with him right now, you'd kiss him. As a thank you of course. Nothing more.

“You’re doing well,” he says softly, his tone dipped in admiration. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Somehow, with him there—though only in your mind—it feels true.

"Thank you, Charles. Where do I go now?"

"Charles?" Your heart dropped before you heard him again.

"I'm here, I'm here. Just... Do you really want to thank me with a kiss?"

Huh. Shit.

You freeze, heat rushing to your cheeks as his question settles in.

“I… thought you couldn’t see thoughts I didn’t direct to you,” you stammer, trying to push the words out as smoothly as possible.

There’s a soft chuckle on his end, warm and teasing. “That’s true… unless you think it loudly.”

You huff, half-embarrassed, half-defiant. His voice is quieter now, almost reverent. “I’m waiting.”

With renewed determination, you make your way down the dark hallway, Charles guiding you through each step and turn until you see the faint light of an exit. Your heart races, each footfall bringing you closer to him. And then, just as you round a corner, there he is, waiting—dust-covered, scratched, but alive and whole.

Without thinking, you run to him, and he opens his arms, catching you before you even realize you’ve thrown yourself into his embrace. His hands settle around you, firm and reassuring, as he lets out a sigh of relief that mirrors your own.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you press a kiss to his lips, a gesture of thanks, of everything left unsaid. Charles freezes for a fraction of a second, then responds, his lips gentle but warm against yours, his hands cradling you like something he never intends to let go.

When you pull back, breathless and unsure, he offers a small, tender smile. “I think we both needed that.”

“Maybe so," you whisper, a smile breaking through your own exhaustion.

And as you stand there, safe and together, the unspoken promise of something more lingers between you, fragile but very, very real.

(JAMES MCAVOY JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE-)

Plz do not copy or translate! -Callme_Bunni

THANK YOUUUUUU

Kurt Wagner piñata

Papa Emeritus is hot af wth-?

Kurt Wagner piñata

So I'm making a Kurt Wagner plushie and I wanna know what you all think! He's not done yet so far but I just need to put on the tail and legs then dye it!

Falling Into Place

Synopsis: While accidentally phased out, you overhear Kurt confiding in someone about his feelings for you, leaving you frozen with shock. As soon as they leave, you phase back to solid form, locking eyes with a very startled Kurt, who realizes you heard every word.

Warnings; None!

Requested by @@hulkingharbor, hope you enjoy!

Ghost mutation!Reader

You had not meant to eavesdrop—it was supposed to be a quick shortcut through the wall. But before you could pull away, you heard Kurt’s voice, softer and more hesitant than usual, drifting from the other side.

“She has my heart,” he was saying quietly, almost to himself. “I cannot help it. I have tried to keep it to myself, but… I want to tell her one day.”

Your breath caught as his words sank in, your mind racing with the impossible thought that he might feel the same way you did. The moment his teammate left, you tried to phase out, but your emotions got the better of you, snapping you back to full form right in the hallway.

Kurt turned, wide-eyed as he saw you standing there, surprise flooding his expression. “You heard?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to find the words at first. The warmth in his gaze urged you on, and you finally managed to speak. “Kurt, I feel the same way. I have for a while now.”

Relief washed over him, and a gentle smile spread across his face. “Really? That makes me so happy,” he replied, his voice brightening.

He took a slow step forward and gently reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, his touch both warm and steady. “I was worried I had waited too long,” he admitted softly.

“There,” he murmured, his gaze steady and sincere. “Now we both know.”

With a tender squeeze, he held your hand close, as if he had been waiting all this time just for this moment by your side.

(I LOVE KURT WAGNER AHHHHHHH-)

Please do not copy or translate! -Callme_Bunni

Trapped in the Space Between Us

Synopsis: After a mission goes wrong, you and Scott Summers are stranded together in a freezing storm with no way out. Forced into close quarters, unspoken feelings finally come to light, changing everything between you.

Warnings; None! Enjoy kits!

Requested from @milkbean69!

The jet hit turbulence harder than expected, and you gripped the edge of your seat as the lights flickered. Scott’s voice came over the comm, steady and in control as always, but you could hear the edge of concern beneath it.

“We’re going down,” he said, his tone sharp with urgency. “Brace yourselves.”

You barely had time to react before the crash landing. Everything blurred, and the next thing you knew, the jet had stopped moving. The alarms were blaring, and you scrambled to unbuckle yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

Scott was already out of his seat, helping you up. “You okay?” he asked, his jaw clenched, his visor reflecting the blinking red lights.

“Yeah, I think so.” You rubbed your arm, where you’d hit the side of the seat, but it was nothing serious. “What about the others?”

“Already on it,” he replied. “Storm’s handling the situation, but we’re going to have to wait here until we can get help. We’re not going anywhere for a while.”

You swallowed hard as you looked around the now-ruined jet. The rest of the team had already gone to survey the crash site, leaving you and Scott behind to secure the ship. A cold wind howled outside, shaking the structure, and it didn’t take long to realize how isolated you were. Snow was piling up quickly outside, and with the jet down and communication systems failing, you were trapped.

Just you and Scott.

“I’ll check the supplies,” Scott said, breaking the silence. He was already moving, trying to stay focused, but you could tell from his body language that he wasn’t thrilled with the situation either.

Minutes passed as you worked to secure the jet’s systems, and the cold air seeped in through the cracks, making the small space feel even smaller. You were both stuck in the cockpit with barely enough room to move, the wind howling louder now, rattling the metal walls around you.

“Guess we’re not going anywhere soon,” you muttered, sitting down on the bench, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth.

Scott glanced at you, the tension in his shoulders still apparent. “We’ll get out of here. We just need to be patient.” His words were calm, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface—maybe frustration, maybe concern. It was hard to tell with him sometimes.

The minutes ticked by slowly, the space between you and Scott feeling tighter with every passing second. You could hear him shifting, adjusting his position, trying to stay calm, but it was obvious that being stuck like this wasn’t exactly ideal for either of you.

The temperature kept dropping, and after a while, the cold was becoming impossible to ignore. You glanced at him, catching him watching you. His visor hid his eyes, but the way his body tensed made it clear he had noticed your shivering.

“Come here,” he said suddenly, his voice low but firm.

“What?”

“We need to conserve heat. If we don’t stay warm, we’ll both be in trouble.” He shifted, making room on the narrow bench next to him. “It’s not ideal, but it’s necessary.”

You hesitated, your heart beating a little faster at the thought of being that close to him. Scott wasn’t exactly known for being the most emotionally open person, and the idea of sitting pressed up against him in this tiny space sent a wave of tension through you.

But you didn’t have a choice. Reluctantly, you moved closer, feeling the warmth of his body immediately as you sat down next to him. It was a strange kind of intimacy, one that neither of you had prepared for, but the cold left little room for options. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, though every move seemed to make you more aware of just how close you were to him.

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, the only sound the faint howl of the wind outside. His arm brushed against yours, and even through your layers, you felt the contact.

Scott cleared his throat. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for the mission.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension breaking just a little. “Yeah, me neither.”

But even as the small bit of humor lightened the mood, the proximity between you felt more intense than ever. The weight of his presence, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his body—it all pressed down on you, making it harder to think clearly.

The wind outside howled even louder, and despite the layers of clothing and gear, the cold was still biting at your skin. You shifted slightly, your shoulder pressing more firmly against Scott’s. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing, letting the tension in his body ease, as if giving in to the necessity of being close.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, the air between you filled with the hum of the broken systems and the distant storm outside. But the weight of the silence wasn’t just from the cold. It was something more—something that had been lingering between the two of you for a while, but neither of you had dared to acknowledge it.

Scott shifted next to you, his gloved hand brushing yours for just a second. The touch sent a jolt through you, even though it had been unintentional. You glanced over at him, wondering if he felt it too, but his face was as unreadable as ever behind his visor.

Still, the tension was impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

“For what?” you asked, surprised.

“For… this,” he gestured vaguely at the cramped cockpit and the freezing conditions. “You shouldn’t be stuck here like this. I should’ve done better.”

You shook your head, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. “It’s not your fault, Scott. No one could’ve predicted this.”

He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was even quieter. “I should’ve kept you out of danger.”

“Scott, we’re in this together. I chose this life just like you did. It’s not your job to protect me.”

He turned toward you then, his face only inches from yours. The proximity made your breath catch, and for the first time, you could feel the heat radiating off him, despite the cold that surrounded you. His jaw clenched, and his expression softened, like he was wrestling with something inside himself.

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t help but want to keep you safe.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. The raw honesty in them caught you off guard—Scott wasn’t the type to let his emotions slip so easily. You’d seen him be strong, stoic, always in control. But here, now, in this small, confined space, something had changed. There was vulnerability in the way he looked at you, something deeper than his usual sense of responsibility.

You swallowed, your voice quiet. “Why?”

He hesitated, his breathing uneven. “Because you’re… different. You’re not just another teammate. You’re…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced away, struggling with the words.

The room felt even smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings. Before you could second-guess it, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Your lips brushed his—soft, tentative, just enough to test the waters.

For a second, he didn’t move, as if frozen by the moment. But then, almost cautiously, he responded. His hand came up to cup the side of your face, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss just enough to make your heart race. The warmth of him chased away the cold, and in that brief moment, the outside world seemed to disappear.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, Scott’s face was still close, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. His lips parted, and you could see the conflict in his expression—the careful control he always held teetering on the edge of something more.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “But I couldn’t. Not until now.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “Tell me what?”

“That I care about you,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “More than I should. More than I ever planned to.”

You exhaled softly, your own feelings rushing to the surface. “I feel the same way, Scott.”

For the first time since you’d known him, Scott’s guard dropped completely. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss—this one deeper, more certain. The cold, the storm, the broken jet—all of it faded into the background as the weight of everything unsaid finally found its voice.

When you pulled away again, his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time, the tension between you felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted. The forced proximity that had once felt like a burden now felt like the moment you both had been waiting for.

Do not copy or translate plz! -CallMe_Bunni

New story coming out tomorrow or Thurs! (Depends on when I'm done and my motivation)

For now, what is your favorite band as of right now? For me, I've been really into Ghost recently 👻🎸

GIVE ME REQUESTS PLZ

I will write:

●fluff

●one-shots

●headcannons

●imagines

I won't write:

●smut (uncomfortable with it, srry!!)

●angst (not good at it)

●character x character (same with above^^)

●Any minor x adult shit too

INBOX AND MESSAGES ARE OPEN

(I could take both of them)

((I can't fight))

Stolen Moments

Synopsis:You and Logan steal moments together between missions, whether it’s sharing a quiet drink or sparring, each encounter deepening your bond.

Warnings: Maybe light cursing? Female reader! Just sum fluff for Logan💛💙🖤🤍

The evening air was still, filled with the earthy scent of grass. You watched him, noting how his posture relaxed, though a heaviness lingered in the quiet between you.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, an urge to break the silence stirred within you. You stepped closer, trying to gauge his mood. He looked up, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart race just a little faster.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You hesitated, searching for the right words. The simple act of being together felt like enough.

“Do you want to grab a drink? The bar in town should still be open.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the warmth of the evening suddenly feeling more intense.

The corner of Logan’s mouth lifted, just enough to be noticeable. “A drink sounds good,” he said, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. His eyes lingered on yours a beat longer than expected, that familiar intensity behind them making your stomach twist in the way it always did around him.

The two of you walked through the quiet streets, side by side, though the space between you felt charged. The warm night air carried the distant hum of the town, but it was the heavy silence between you and Logan that you couldn’t shake. The old bar’s neon sign flickered as you approached, casting a soft glow on his rugged features.

Inside, the bar was just as rundown as you remembered—dimly lit, the smell of stale beer thick in the air. Logan slid into a booth at the back, gesturing for you to follow. The cracked leather squeaked beneath you as you sat across from him, the tension still hanging between you like the dim haze of smoke lingering in the air.

“Place hasn’t changed much,” Logan muttered, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on you.

“Nope,” you replied, trying to keep your voice casual, though you could feel his eyes on you, making your heart race just a little faster.

The silence that settled between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with the unspoken. Logan leaned back in his seat, taking a slow sip of his drink, his gaze still sharp, watching you in that quiet way of his. You both knew what this was—something brewing, something neither of you could quite put into words, but both of you felt it.

Over the next few weeks, the missions came and went, each more dangerous than the last. Yet in the middle of it all, you found yourself catching those fleeting moments with Logan. There were stolen glances during tactical meetings, the brush of his hand against yours when passing by, the way his presence seemed to linger a little longer when the others weren’t around.

Sometimes, after a mission, you’d find yourselves alone, sitting in the shadows, sharing a drink in silence, just like that night at the bar. His presence, always so solid and sure, gave you a strange sense of comfort—even if it came with the sharp edge of something more.

One night, as you both prepped for another mission, the tension between you seemed thicker than usual. The dim light of the armory cast shadows across the room as you geared up. You were fastening your gloves when you felt Logan’s eyes on you again, his quiet intensity impossible to ignore.

“Be careful out there,” he said, his voice rough but low, cutting through the stillness.

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Always am.”

But something was different this time. Logan stepped closer, his movements deliberate, closing the space between you. His gaze held yours, the weight of it sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, as the air between you thickened with everything that had been building for weeks.

And then, without warning, he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a brief, stolen kiss—soft, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. But the impact was immediate, sending a rush of heat through you.

When he pulled back, his eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. There were no words exchanged, but the kiss had said it all. Something had shifted between you, something neither of you could deny any longer.

The next few missions were the same, but everything between you and Logan had changed. The stolen moments became more frequent, the touches more deliberate, the tension simmering just below the surface. You could feel it in every glance, every word he spoke to you.

That brief kiss wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning.

Do not copy or translate plz! -CallMe_Bunni

Secret Hideout, Secret Kiss

Synopsis: You discover a hidden spot in the mansion where Quicksilver goes to think. He shows it to you, and as you share secrets, the tension builds, leading to a soft, stolen kiss.

Warnings: Maybe some cursing, besides that, just fluff! ☁️🩷

You wandered through the surprisingly quiet halls of the X-Mansion, trying to find something to do on this slow day. You were about to walk past a small hallway but stopped, seeing a light under a door. Peter's door. It's not unusual for him to be up at this time, but something was off. You pressed your ear to the door, hearing some light curses and shuffling.

"Peter?" You knocked on the door, it creaking open. You saw Peter half-way out of his window with the all-too familiar silver jacket basically glowing in the moonlight. "Hey, baby- What do you need?" Peter cocked a smile on his face, now sitting on his windowsill. "What are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself or something?" You walked in and shut the door, crossing your arms. "Just uh- looking at the moon. Mhm. Yep." Peter didn't even believe his own lie. How could he lie when you were standing right in front of him in your cute pajamas and the sleepy look on your face. "Mhm. Tell me the truth, Peter." He sighed and stood up, taking your hand. "Why use words when I can show you?" You were about to respond before he held the back of your head and speed through the house.

Before you knew it, you were outside.

"Peter, what are you-" He sped you into a small clubhouse. It was a cozy room filled with music players and dirty clothes. "I'd hope no one would find this place, but since I'm showing it to you, you're not finding it." Peter laid down into the beanbag chair, you sitting in the small chair in front of him. "Why keep this place hidden? Too small for anyone else?" You smiled, leaning back a bit. "That and I come here to be alone sometimes. I like having a big-mutant family and all but... It's a bit much with everyone. Sometimes a guy just needs-"

"A place too think."

"Mm... Yeah. You get it?" Peter cocked his neck to the side, his silver hair moving and settling into place. Damn, why did it take you this long to realize he was cute? Well- You've had thoughts before. But never so... vivid. "Yeah, sometimes it's a bit much. The talking, the fighting, the crowed hallways. Why do you think my headphones are basically attached to me?"

You chuckled, the tension easing as you exchanged glances, both of you sharing that unspoken understanding. Peter’s presence was oddly comforting in this hidden sanctuary, a stark contrast to the chaos of the mansion.

“Right?” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s nice to have a little escape now and then. Like our own little secret.” He leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And now you’re in on it.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “I guess that makes me special, huh?”

“Special indeed,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer. The playful air around him faded, replaced by a sincerity that made your heart race. “I don’t show this place to just anyone.”

The moment hung between you like a delicate thread, pulling you closer together. You watched as he shifted in the beanbag, looking slightly vulnerable but still that charming, cocky guy you knew. “So, what else do you do in your secret hideout?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light, even as the tension crackled in the air.

“Sometimes I think about life, or I just play music and pretend I’m a rockstar,” he said with a chuckle, but his eyes were serious. “But mostly, I just think about… stuff.”

“Stuff?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, intrigued. “What kind of stuff?”

He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “You know, like… what it all means. Being a mutant, having powers, all that. But lately, I’ve been thinking about people too.” His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt your breath hitch slightly.

“People?” you echoed, heart pounding. “Like…?”

“I dunno. Maybe people like... you.” The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. His expression was earnest, searching yours for a reaction.

You felt a rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “You’ve always been there for me. And I’ve been wanting to tell you… well, I think you’re incredible.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your pulse quicken. It was that moment—the one that seemed to stretch and expand, where everything else faded away. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. “Peter, I—”

Before you could finish, he closed the distance between you, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Can I show you? How incredible I think you are.” he asked softly, and you nodded, breathless as your throat felt dry.

In an instant, his lips were on yours, tentative at first but quickly growing more confident, as if he were testing the waters of this uncharted territory. You melted into the kiss, feeling the warmth radiate between you, a rush of electricity that made everything else fade away. You reached up and felt his silver strands go through your fingers. This felt like a dream. He was kissing you, and not out of pity or a dare- Because he liked you. He really liked you...

When he pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other. “Wow,” he whispered, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “So, do you think I could ever be a rockstar?”

You laughed, the moment lightening but the intensity still there. “You definitely have the charm for it,” you replied, heart still racing. “But let’s focus on this secret hideout first.” He chuckled, that easy, familiar laugh you loved. “Deal.” The night stretched out before you, filled with possibilities, the quiet of the clubhouse now brimming with newfound connection.

Do not copy or translate plz! -CallMe_Bunni

Writing in progress!! 🤍🤍😚

Might start writing on this acc since its connected to my laptop

10 posts!

Wow.

REMY LEBEAU GET YOUR ASS-

(jk ily swamp rat 🐀 💓 😘 💗 💖)

Might paint these instead of just drawing pen on them

So cutie patootie

BRO WHAT IS THE SHIT MY FRIEND SENDS ME IN THE MIDDLE OF ME VENTING????