sora

John and reader who have opposite powers trying to figure out how to properly be together with it.

-

John and reader fighting after john joins magneto bc reader didn’t

-

John trying to recruit reader to join magneto

-

Part 2 to any of your other john works 😭

- sorry if this is stupid I love your writing and there NEEDS to be more john fics

You ask, and you shall receive! Sorry lol I started writing for pyro on here when I was in high school and was freshly graduated and I haven't written in a while cause for the period, I was gone I was completing my foundation studies. AND NOW, imma bout to jump back in with bachelors..... yall pray for me 😇. I am so so sorry i took so long to like complete this request it had been sitting in my drafts but I haven't written anything so like sorry babes.. but uhmm i think I will start writing more soon like not just for pyro or x-men. Hopefully, like soon enough I will release a masterlist of characters that I will write and would be happy to take requests. Maybe I'll even post like a multi-chapter fic but on wattpad though- it's a bit messier here. Still enjoyyy!!! A bit angsty tho, sorry bout that. Also sorry if it's shitty. Its been so long I'm literally greasing my joints. 👎

ALL I WANTED

pyro!john allerdyce x fem!reader

#angsty #bittersweet-ending(??)

Your burgundy heels clicked along as you inched closer to your apartment, shitty enough for you to make it your new home— your key jingled as you took them out but movement took you to halt.

You stared at the plain door right in front of you, senses tingling— within an instance, the hairs on your neck stood up and the muscle of your ears twitched in caution.

Someone was there, someone who you weren't expecting a visit from.

Slowly but surely, you had enough confidence that you were the few people he wouldn't simply attack now as you unlock the door and stepped in. Admittedly so, he was there in your kitchen.

Standing with his hands on the counter, the lone colourless light shining overhead from the ceiling. His eyes hadn't met yours, but you could just tell— John's about to say stuff that's gonna be stupid.

" Hey, "

“Get the fuck out of my apartment.” Replied within a heartbeat, casually taking off your heels and your coat. Leaving your groceries on the counter in front of him, muscle tensed and stomach churned despite acting indifferent to his presence.

“Wow," Huffing a small laugh at that, he couldn’t really blame you. Not one bit of your anger or harsh, cold indifference did he believe was misdirected. It was valid— the pyrokinetic admitted that he was a jerk.

He tried calling your name, softly. The tone and sound of it didn’t feel foreign after years of not uttering it, the feelings felt were still the same. And it wasn’t just him that felt it. You stood still in front of a window with your back facing him, the weight of his voice carrying your name hit you like back when he threw a balled-up paper in Summer’s mathematics lessons.

You missed him. Really. You still do.

You breathed in, collecting every shred of thoughts, feelings and patience you had before turning on your heels. And you waited.

His head was slightly tipped downwards, eyeing your micromovements through lashes— appearing like a kicked puppy, with slightly reddened ears. Still shy after so long. With nothing prepared to say.

You really wanted to slap him.

“I, “he began, taking a moment to pause to gather proper words, “I know you’re mad at me.”

Oh, you really wanted to slap the shit out of him.

You laughed, in disbelief. Smiling ridiculously at such obvious logic. However, you played along and went on— “Really? Do I? I don’t seem- what? - thrilled to you?”

Head cocking to the side, hands laid rest on your hips. His arms, still keeping the distance and reluctance he always had, crossed over his body. Rolling his grey eyes as you batted your lashes for him to guess.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Enough with the sarcasm already—”

“John,” the tone switched to serious, “you left me.”

You reminded. And you forgot that there was a wanted mutant fugitive from Magneto’s brotherhood in your very apartment right now, who could burn you alive in this instance. Yet that fear can be damned, who inched closer with furrowed brows and turmoil of your emotions bubbling— back to arguing with the very man whom you loved.

The boy who managed your stubbornness and constant moral dilemmas over being a bit mean to someone with patience, the one who’d sneak off with you late at night from the dorms to a dinner nearby sharing salty, soggy fries and sweet milkshakes with the little expenses you shared. A promise he’d take you on better dates later in life. You didn’t want better dates though. Just him.

“W-what now? What do you want from me?” Now, at this point your eyes were looking at the skinnier, paler and meaner version of him; drained of something you once knew. Your skin was aching for the warmth he naturally had in his hands—it left a tremor in your voice, growing quieter. Almost in a whisper, desperate “John, tell me.”

And now, he looked like he was about to cry.

It felt like you were all 17 again.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I just- uhm-” He began stumbling on his words, slowly rocking between his heels and his toes. Something he usually did out of habit, especially when he struggled to admit some things out loud. Like, fear, sadness or shame.

And you truly shouldn’t let a man in your life that left enter it so easily, especially who’s chasing down a path you could not follow. Yet, he worries you still. It was probably a stupid but your sincere worry and the ounce of evidence that you still cared for him bled through.

“Do you need a place to stay?—”

“No. It’s not that—”

“—are you hungry?”

He couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that, a shine glimmering in those glossy eyes. Blinking as he shook his head. The growing guilt builded in his chest was anchoring down his body, making him feel like gravity pushing him down to the ground. You were still so kind.

“Join me, in the Brotherhood. “

You shook your head repeatedly as you objected. Chanting over everything else he had to say— “No no no no no no no no—”

“—I’m not asking you to fight anyone, you’re not going to hurt anyone.” Closing the space between you as his hands hovered over your frame, scared to touch. Almost as if you were something fragile. “Baby, just as a medic. We could use one. I promise I won’t let anyone touch you, I’ll make sure you’re fed and comfortable— “

“—no no no no no no- “Finally, he cupped your face to look at him. Thumb stroking your wet cheek, soft against his scarred and calloused palms. “I won’t leave. I promise.”

You pushed him away, smacking his chest with your palm. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that! Fuck! You think you can leave me and come back and then expect me to drop everything for you?! You’re being selfish! Wh-why did you even join them in the first place? You said you wanted to be a writer, you wanted to go mountains and see alpacas or llamas and shit! You had people who supported you and dreams- I-I don’t get it- what wasn’t enough for you, huh? They don’t tell you to stop showing off when our teachers did? All because of some fucking pride of yours?”

“Shit! I wasn’t doing it for me!”

“Really?! Well, who could this possibly be for? All this violence and fighting, I sure as hell don’t condone it.”

Running his fingers through his bleached blonde hair, growing frustrated at this whole argument that was expected. “For you!”

Me? Have you ever hinted to him to become a lackey for Magneto— one of the X-men’s greatest foe. You were deeply offended and confused on where this idea even came from. That was not what you wanted, never. He thinks you wanted this?

“I have never fucking asked for this!”

“And what the hell did you think I joined the Brotherhood for? For shits and giggles? I’m refining our world for us to build a life in. In a better society that won’t hurt us— a society where you would be safe and where we get to be ourselves with no judgement or hostility. As many and better dates as you want, in the perfect suburbs you want to live in and proper medical care that won’t turn you down.”

A pebble was lodged deep in your throat, your nose stuffed in both nostrils making it harder to breathe with every pained breath you took. Head hot, ears ringing and your lips couldn’t get out the salty taste of your tears. He really did have a reason.

You could hear soft sniffles from him, “I want you to have that.”

Rubbing your forehead and swiping your hair back while blearily blinking through tears. Oh, Allerdyce was a weeping mess himself. A lot more silent, yet tearful as the same.

A life like that was a fantasy, you had long accepted that your kind would never be accepted fully and change had yet to come for another century. But through those hardships you had always imagined him being there, both of you going through it together. “And I wanted you to stay. Please stay. It’s not safe with the Brotherhood. John, you could die. “

You put a fist to your mouth, trying to stop the frown appearing at the thought. And he smiled at the consideration with his damp face, “you’re too good for me.”

You always have been. People always had thought of him as your protector, a guardian angel of sorts— but in truth, it was never him but you. You were the angel, never him. So, in return he supposes he’ll make sure you get to keep your wings.

He stepped closer, body gently colliding with yours. Warm arms embracing in such a comfort that you had long not felt and so direly missed. And melted into him by instinct, forehead leaning against him. “It’s okay. I really am sorry. I mean it. And I love you.”

And you stayed like that for a while and the messages from each other sunk in. There was just no way either of you could thread through each other's lives now. With the warmth of this engulfing embrace was the answer; this is it. You couldn’t bear to follow where he was going, and he couldn’t bear living in your life of hiding and hardships. He made his decision and you made yours.

Accepting your decline to the offer with no further counter you felt him separate himself from you, dry lips pecking your cheek so softly. Holding you with such endearment, he whispers with this lightheartedness in his tone despite his actual voice being brought down with grief— “bye.”

And you watched as that man walked out from your house, body static with planted feet in the ground. Heart telling to go chase after him, but body controlled on not following. And you lingered on his figure, trying best not to swell your vision as they were locked on him. Every sense is trying to imprint every memory of him into your heart, so that his image won’t be lost even if you aged. Eyes kept on him ‘til the very last second, he closed the door behind him. For the man left you for the second time but your gut was telling you that will be the last time— no third.