「 Gothie 」

The relationship started out with just Rogue and Gambit, neither of them particularly looking to add a third. That’s when you came along

You blew into their lives like a tornado, leaving them breathless and gasping for air. There was something about you that set you apart from the other X-Men and they noticed

Admittedly, there was a little bit of tension between the two of them for a bit. They weren’t sure how to bring up the subject of you and their feelings

When they eventually do tell each other the truth about their feelings for you, all that tension eases and they have a long and heartfelt discussion about how to approach you

You’re actually the one to come forward first. After a night out and a few drinks you end up spilling everything, telling them about how you have feelings for them and how you thought it was jealousy at first

Naturally, they are delighted. The next morning, amidst the hangovers and embarrassment, Rogue is the one to talk to you about what you said

Your first instinct is to crawl into a hole and die. You’d sworn to yourself you’d take those feelings to the grave and yet here you are. Rogue tells you that she and Remy feel the same and you just about die on the spot

She invites you to join them, which you hesitantly agree to. It’s a little awkward at first, they already have an established relationship and you don’t know where you fit into that yet

They’re extremely reassuring, making sure to tell you exactly how much they love and care about you and it isn’t long until you actually find yourself in bed with them

The first few times you sleep together, they shower you with affection, making sure you feel good and learning how to please you

After a while, you become more comfortable around them. The three of you fit together like puzzle pieces, becoming a tight and inseparable trio

You and Rogue absolutely love teasing and torturing Remy in bed. From the outside, others would assume he’d be the one to take control in bed but it’s just the opposite. He loves being at your mercy

Dates are always a lot of fun. Rogue and Remy love to drag you around to all the places they’ve been with each before you entered the picture, determined to create new memories with you

You also love dragging them places. You bring them to your hometown, sharing all your favorite childhood memories and experiences with them. Maybe you even introduce them to your parents

Arguments are hard, they always are. Most of the time it’s one-on-one, both trying to get the third to back them up which always causes some amount of tension. Three way arguments are rare, but they do happen. The three of you have found that when they happen it’s best for you all to split off and take a break for a few days. Take some time to think and cool off

No matter what, you always come back to each other. Sometimes it takes longer than normal, but there is nothing that can truly separate you three. You all love each other and at the end of the day that’s all that matters

when you brat out, he doesn't play around and engage with you. while i think someone like logan would be more direct with punishments, scott can play the long game. he has the patience, and he uses it.

instead of giving you what you want, and carting you off to your room, scott will just ignore you. he'll tell you that the two of you can discuss how you're feeling when you can do so like a mature adult. at first that only gets you more upset, but before long, your lip is wobbling and your eyes are glossy. you're coming to him, holding his arm and nuzzling his bicep.

"scott, i'm sorry," you whimper as the two of you walk back to your room.

he glances down at your pleading eyes and tries not to smirk. you acted so tough, but you're so easy to break down.

"are you now?" he asks monotonously.

you nod quickly, eager to prove to him that you can behave. the two of you go into your shared room where he takes a seat on the bed and you stand in front of him.

"have anything to say for yourself then?" he asks.

"i'm really sorry, sir," you say, throwing on the title for some extra points. you step closer to stop between his thighs. "'m sorry for giving attitude and calling you a dick."

he chuckles and tilts your chin up. "yeah. that wasn't very nice was it, baby?" he teases.

you shake your head, eyes still cast down.

"you're lucky i can be so forgiving then, aren't you?" he says.

and again, you nod.

once you've acquiesced and admitted your wrongdoings, that's when he moves into the part of the punishment you craved all along. it's the part where he spreads you out on the bed and takes residence between your thighs, overstimulating you to tears with his fingers, tongue, or cock. whatever he feels like.

your legs wrap around his head while your back arches off the mattress. you part your lips in a silent scream as your third release tears through you. your hips buck wildly, but he does his best to hold them in place. he keeps you nice and steady because through all of this, he never stops sucking on your poor, puffy little clit.

you whine and squirm, starting to push at his head to find some reprieve, but he won't let up. tears roll down your temples while spit collects around wet sobs.

"scott..." you choke out as your legs quake violently, "can't... can't do it... too much."

"it's not too much," he chides once he pulls himself off your cunt. he licks a broad stripe over the sticky expanse before pumping his fingers into your dripping entrance.

more tears pour from your eyes as another cry erupts from your mouth. you nod wildly. "yes it is. it's- it's- oh my fucking god," you sob.

"it's what? it's what you wanted?" he taunts, "you were begging for attention so badly earlier. i thought you'd enjoy yourself."

you part your lips to respond, but only a squeak comes out. your hips roll as he curls his fingers with in and brings you to a fourth peak.

your words become babbled and drool leaks from your mouth in the haze. he grins at your fucked out state and keeps sliding his fingers back and forth.

"that's right. you don't need words, sweetheart. you never use them anyways. you always jump right ahead to having an attitude," he mocks.

all you can mumble in response is his name on repeat. your eyes screw shut. a few seconds later, you finally get a small break. it only last a few seconds though because you come to realize the brief pause in his actions was only so he could position himself with his cock at your entrance.

"it's ok though. we'll get all those big feelings worked out so you can go back to being a good girl for me again," he says.

It had only been a week. A week since your heart became slow, dull, and empty.

The mansion took a hit. The team broken into pieces.

It was unusually quiet around the manor. Normally, the sound of padding footsteps and excited laughter and voices filled the halls, but now...it was silent. You weren't' the only one that lost something, but by all hell, you deserved to grieve.

You hadn't left the bedroom you shared for days, your body curled tightly on the bed, clutching his suit against your chest as if it were a lifeline. Tears flowed endlessly, soaking the pillow beneath your head. The salty streams seemed inexhaustible, leaving your eyes red and swollen, leaving you with a constant headache you ignored. You were likely severely dehydrated from the constant outpouring of grief, but in your state of mourning, those concerns held no importance to you. All you desired was to be left alone with your sorrow, to process the loss in solitude.

His suit bore a large, jagged hole, Kurt's dried blood stained the fabric, a sight that simultaneously pained you and kept you connected to him. You couldn't bring yourself to wash it, fearing that doing so would erase the last tangible traces of his presence. The suit still carried his distinct scent, a bittersweet comfort that you clung to desperately. No amount of spraying with cologne could ever bring back his natural musk that he had, and you would rather die than get rid of it.

Embedded within the flexible fabric were tufts of his fur, some parts adhering more stubbornly than others. As you ran your fingers over these patches, you recalled with a mixture of fondness and anguish his playful complaints about how the suit would cause him to shed. Those light-hearted moments now seemed like echoes from a distant, happier time, making the overwhelming ache of his absence feel much worse.

The team struggled to regroup, attempting to rally support and formulate a plan of action in the aftermath of the blatant slaughter they endured. However, you found yourself emotionally paralyzed, unable to contribute to their efforts. The weight of loss and despair settled heavily upon your shoulders, making even the simplest tasks seem insurmountable. In a daze, you rose from your seat, your movements mechanical and detached from conscious thought. You were on autopilot, nothing else mattered, you couldn’t even think.

You began to pack your belongings, carelessly tossing clothes into a small bag without regard for order or neatness. Your fingers then ghosted over the familiar fabric of his suit, the last tangible remnant of Kurt's presence in your life. With reverence, you gently lifted the garment, cradling it against your chest as if it were a fragile, living thing. This suit, once a symbol of his strength and selfless heroism, now served as a poignant reminder of all you had lost. As you held it close, memories of Kurt flooded your mind, intensifying the ache of his absence and solidifying your decision to depart.

You had no tears left. Not right now.

You took your bag and you left.

The nightmares were relentless, haunting your sleep with disturbing frequency. Night after night, your subconscious mind replayed the horrific scene of Kurt's demise, each detail etched with painful clarity like you were reliving that exact moment over and over again. The vivid imagery of Bastion's merciless act - the brutal impalement - refused to fade. You could still see, with sickening precision, the crimson spray erupting from Kurt's azure lips, staining his chest in a macabre pattern, the life essence dripping down his skin and mocking you. The memory of his lithe form, once so full of life and grace, suddenly tensing and then crumpling lifelessly to the ground as Bastion withdrew his weapon, was seared into your mind.

The physical sensations were equally intense. You distinctly recalled the disorienting waves of heat and cold that washed over you, and the violent tremors that wracked your body as adrenaline surged through your system in rage fueled torrents. The emotional trauma was blatant, manifesting in physical symptoms that left you feeling drained and vulnerable, pathetically and frantically scrambling to get to his side in the middle of the battlefield.

The image of your final moments with Kurt were the worst of it all, your eternal Hell that never ceased. Holding his rapidly cooling body in your arms, you watched helplessly as the light in his beautiful, golden eyes gradually dimmed. Even in his last breaths, Kurt's selflessness shone through, as he valiantly attempted to offer you solace and comfort, despite his own dire circumstances.

Your grief and suffering was a wound that never healed. Each night proved that it would only reopen from the desperate scab it tried to become.

As the years passed, your close friends from the mansion persistently attempted to maintain contact with you, but you deliberately distanced yourself from them. The desire to communicate with them had completely faded, and you found yourself wanting to sever all ties with the X-Men.

Your sole focus became an attempt to carve out an existence devoid of the tumultuous chaos that had been an inherent part of life within that unconventional, misfit family. You couldn’t stand any more pain, the loss you took had been severe, thinking about any of your old friends losing their lives was too much to bear.

You retreated into a life of solitude, taking on a mundane and unremarkable job that offered little stimulation or fulfillment. It wasn't so much living as it was merely existing - a bare-bones survival that felt hollow but required.

Yet, in your current state of mind, this was all you felt capable of managing. The weight of your grief remained a constant companion, refusing to lift even as time marched relentlessly forward. The passage of years did little to alleviate the profound sense of loss that had taken root in your heart, leaving you trapped in a perpetual state of mourning that colored every aspect of your isolated existence.

You tried therapy, for a while.

It didn’t help much.

You were constantly bombarded with well-intentioned but ultimately unhelpful advice. People would tell you to move on, as if it were a simple switch you could flip.

They'd say he was in a better place now, as though that somehow lessened your pain.

They'd remind you that years had passed, implying that your grief should have an expiration date.

But none of these platitudes actually provided any comfort or solace. In fact, being told to move on was perhaps the most infuriating of all. It felt dismissive, insensitive, and completely disconnected from the depth of your loss.

The suggestion to move on ignited a spark of anger within you. How could anyone possibly understand the magnitude of what you'd been through? You couldn't even share the full story with them, the pervasive discrimination and prejudice against mutants still ran deep in society, and you weren't ready to expose that part of yourself.

But regardless of the details you had to keep hidden, the fact remained that you had lost the person who brought light and love into your world. It was as if the sun had been extinguished, leaving you in perpetual darkness. The audacity of someone demanding that you simply move on from such a profound loss was both hurtful and enraging. How dare they trivialize your grief and dictate the timeline of your healing? Your pain was yours to process, and no one had the right to tell you when or how to do it.

You came back from a rather dreary work day, annoyed and angry with the world. It felt so unfair. You wondered if Kurt would be disappointed in the sheer amount of hatred that you allowed to consume you. Did it matter?

As you closed your door, you trudged through your barren apartment, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness. You hadn’t bothered to decorate, it was just you, and when you were home all you did was sleep. No reason to waste money on furniture.

Suddenly, a familiar scent wafted through the air - brimstone. That sharp, smoky odor that had haunted your senses for years now made its presence known once again. The acrid smell tickled your nostrils, bringing with it a flood of memories you'd rather forget. At first, you dismissed it as another phantom smell, a lingering remnant of Kurt that your mind conjured up in moments of solitude. After all, these olfactory ghosts had been your constant companions over the years, taunting and mocking you with their ephemeral nature.

You continued your way through the apartment, your mind wrestling with the reality of the scent. The logical part of your brain insisted it was just another trick of your senses, a cruel joke played by your subconscious. Yet, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something was different this time. The smell seemed more tangible, more real than the fleeting wisps of memory you were accustomed to. Still, you pushed the thought aside, convincing yourself it was nothing out of the ordinary.

You were just tired. It had been a long day.

As you rounded the frame of the door, preparing to step into the next room, an inexplicable chill ran down your spine. In that instant, you felt everything around you freeze up. The air grew thick and heavy, as if time itself had come to a standstill. Your muscles tensed, your breath caught in your throat as you looked at the familiar figure laying on your couch.

Kurt smiled at you, his familiar figure rising from his seat. His arms extended in a welcoming gesture, a warmth radiating from his presence that you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity. "Liebling...I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice carrying the same tender inflection you remembered.

Every detail about him was overwhelmingly authentic - from the timbre of his voice to the subtle cologne mixed with that harsh brimstone that always clung to his clothes. Your senses were inundated with evidence of his reality; he wasn't just there, he was undeniably real.

A maelstrom of emotions surged through you, leaving you utterly bewildered.

What the Hell is happening?

The thought ricocheted through your mind, unable to find purchase in the face of this impossibility.

You found yourself frozen, incapable of formulating a coherent response. The shock of the moment had completely blindsided you, leaving you reeling as if you'd been struck. It was as though you were face to face with an apparition, a specter from your past that had inexplicably materialized before your eyes.

But this was no ethereal vision - this was tangible, corporeal.

The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on you; if this was indeed some sort of phantasm, it certainly had a sick sense of humor.

Your lips parted as you let out a soft, trembling sound, his name barely a whisper escaping through the opening. Your eyes, wide with disbelief, were glued on him, taking in every detail of his familiar yet seemingly impossible presence. His demeanor faltered slightly as he noticed your lack of enthusiasm at his sudden appearance, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

"Ah, liebe...I...understand this might be quite shocking to you..." He mumbled out shyly, his voice a mixture of hope and apprehension as he slowly walked towards you, each step careful and measured. "But, I am back. I am truly here, alive and breathing. Can you see that?"

You remained rooted to the spot, unable to bring yourself to move a single muscle. The overwhelming tsunami of emotions that crashed over you felt like it was too much for your body and mind to handle. A wave of nausea washed over you, making you feel as though you were teetering on the edge of consciousness, your stomach churning violently. The sheer impossibility of the situation threatened to overwhelm you completely.

You couldn't fathom how he could be here, standing in your apartment, flesh and blood, after years of believing he was dead. The grief you had painstakingly lived with, the torturous reminders that mocked you every day - it all came crashing down around you in an instant, leaving you reeling in a maelstrom.

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, sensing the overwhelming shock that had gripped you. He anticipated a joyous reaction, but instead, a heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sob escaped your lips, echoing through the air and piercing the silence between you.

Taken aback, Kurt's body tensed, his eyes widening with a mixture of concern and confusion. This unexpected outburst was far from the jubilant reunion he had envisioned in his mind. The stark contrast between his hopeful expectations and the raw, emotional reality before him left him momentarily stunned.

You had always been strong and level-headed with your emotions, but seeing you like this made him realize his absence and sudden appearance again had clearly done some psychological damage. "L-liebling," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with uncertainty and worry.

Hesitantly, Kurt extended his hands towards you, offering comfort and desperate support. However, the fear of exacerbating your distress held him back from actually making contact. His fingers hovered in the air between you, trembling slightly as he grappled with the desire to console you and the apprehension of potentially making matters worse.

Kurt bridged the gap between you with a single, desperate motion, not wanting to watch you sob any longer. His arms enveloped you, strong yet gentle, pulling you against his chest. You felt the solid warmth of his body, a sensation you had been deprived of for what felt like an eternity.

As he held you close, Kurt became your anchor to reality, proof that this wasn't just another cruel dream. His familiar scent washed over you, a mix of brimstone and something uniquely him, further cementing his presence. "I'm here, liebe... I'm here," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Es tut mir Leid... I never intended to be absent for so long, but... the circumstances of my return are a mystery even to me. Perhaps this is a divine gift, a second chance from Gott…a miracle. Ja?"

His words were soft, barely above a whisper, yet they resonated deeply within you. "I cannot imagine the anguish you've endured in my absence," he continued, his accent more pronounced in his emotional state. As he spoke, his hand moved in soothing circles on your back, a gesture so achingly familiar it threatened to unravel you completely.

In the safety of his embrace, years of bottled-up emotions finally found their release. The dam broke, and you allowed yourself to experience the full depth of your agony, your body shaking with the force of your long-suppressed grief. Kurt held you through it all, a steady presence as you wept the tumultuous sea of your emotions, whispering words of comfort and love in a mixture of English and German.

You don't know how long you cried for.

You felt your body gradually succumbing to exhaustion, your strength ebbing away with each passing moment. What seemed like mere minutes to your grief-stricken mind had, in reality, stretched into over an hour of uncontrollable sobbing. Throughout this emotional display, Kurt remained steadfast, his arms encircling you in an unwavering embrace, not daring to let you go. He bore witness to your anguish, listening intently to every heart-wrenching wail that escaped your lips, each cry a testament to the depth of your sorrow and mourning. He felt so horrible, seeing just how much you loved him and how the grief had overtaken your being.

Kurt did everything in his power to provide solace. He held you close, gently squeezing you with his arms, whispering soft reassurances, each gesture carefully crafted to soothe you.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "I'm not leaving. I promise..." His indigo lips grazed your sensitive temple while he whispered gentle nothings against your skin. The contact was feather-light, yet profoundly comforting. He peppered your clammy skin with tender kisses, unable to hold back on his affections.

The sudden nature of Kurt's reappearance left you reeling. After enduring the agonizing belief that he was gone forever, his unexpected return stirred up a complex cocktail of emotions - happiness, relief, anger. A part of you yearned for the joyous reunion he seemed to expect, but another part bristled at the simplicity of such an notion.

How could he materialize out of thin air, after all the grief and pain you had endured, and anticipate an uncomplicated, happy welcome? You supposed that is his specialty…appearing suddenly in a rapid purple cloud with that happy smile exposing his fangs.

Kurt wanted that happy reunion. He wanted you jumping in his arms and that loving, passionate kiss he dreamt of and missed since his departure from this plane of existence.

But you couldn't give him that. Not now.

For now, you needed his comforting presence more than anything else. Recognizing your emotional state, he gently lowered himself onto the couch, cradling you in his arms. His embrace was firm yet tender, providing a sanctuary where you could finally release everything that had been weighing heavily on your heart. As he held you close, you continued to sob and cry into his chest, each tear carrying with it a fragment of the pain and stress you had been harboring for so long.

Time seemed to stand still as you remained in his protective embrace, your sobs gradually subsiding as exhaustion began to overtake you. He made no move to interrupt this cathartic process, understanding that sometimes silence speaks louder than words. His steady heartbeat and warm presence served as a lullaby, slowly lulling you into a state of tranquility you hadn't experienced in years.

The conversation you needed to have could wait.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you found yourself drifting into a deep, peaceful slumber - a luxury that had eluded you for far too long. His presence alone had snuffed out the vicious plague that infected your mind, the nightmares that were forced upon you over and over of his gruesome death were destroyed.

For the first time in years, you actually slept.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight & @/strangergraphics

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan has always admired your wit, but when your sharp tongue turns into you being a bit of a smart-ass, it both amuses and irritates him. He raises a brow every time you make a snarky remark, half-impressed but also battling the urge to roll his eyes. “You think you’re funny, huh, darlin’?” he’d growl under his breath, though his lips twitch into a grin despite himself.

- While he’d try to keep things serious when the situation called for it, your teasing often gets the best of him. Like that time in the Danger Room when you outmaneuvered him with a smirk and a cocky quip, Logan pretended to be pissed, but you could see the pride in his eyes. “Better watch it, or I might not go easy on you next time,” he’d say with a low rumble, knowing full well that he’s too soft on you.

- There are moments when your sass pushes his patience, and he’ll let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples in that way he does when he’s had just about enough. But instead of snapping, he pulls you close, growling something like, “You’re gonna be the death of me,” before kissing you fiercely, reminding you who’s in charge — at least until the next time you decide to test him.

- Despite all the banter, Logan wouldn’t trade your fiery spirit for anything. Deep down, he loves how sharp and quick-witted you are, even if it means dealing with your sarcasm on a daily basis. You keep him on his toes, and after everything he’s been through, your energy and humor are a breath of fresh air. Sometimes, when the two of you are alone, he’ll lean in and say, “You might be a pain in my ass, but you’re my pain in the ass,” with that gruff, affectionate tone that never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- Remy is no stranger to charm and wit, so when you sass him, he’s ready to dish it right back. He loves the playful banter between you two, and half the time, he’s probably encouraging it just to see what you’ll come up with next. “Ah, ma chérie, you t’ink you can outsmart Remy, eh?” he’d say, a devilish grin lighting up his face as he leans in closer, daring you to keep going.

- When you make a smart-ass remark, especially in front of the other X-Men, Remy can’t help but smirk proudly. He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and whispering, “You gon’ get us in trouble, but I like it.” He’s never one to shy away from mischief, and with you by his side, the two of you are unstoppable when it comes to pulling off clever pranks or getting the upper hand in any situation.

- Every now and then, Remy will try to one-up you with his own smart comments, leading to playful verbal sparring matches that only deepen your connection. But even when he’s trying to get the last word in, he never minds when you come out on top. “Damn, chérie, you too good at this,” he’d laugh, eyes sparkling with admiration as he wraps you in his arms.

- On the rare occasions when your sass catches him off guard, you might notice a flicker of surprise before he recovers with that signature grin. “Ah, you keep me on my toes, mon amour,” he’d murmur, pressing a kiss to your temple. Remy loves every part of you — the wit, the sass, and the undeniable chemistry between you two. No matter what, he’s always ready for the next round of banter, knowing it only brings you closer together.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- Kurt is gentle and kind, so when you hit him with a sarcastic or smart-ass comment, he’s more likely to chuckle than to take offense. He’ll tilt his head, a curious smile playing on his lips as he tries to figure out if you’re serious or just teasing him. “Are you making fun of me, mein Schatz?” he’d ask, his voice full of playful curiosity.

- Despite his more serious nature at times, Kurt is never one to shy away from your banter. If anything, he enjoys your quick wit because it keeps things light between you two, especially during difficult missions or stressful situations. Whenever you throw a clever remark his way, he’d respond with a thoughtful hum, pretending to be deep in thought before adding, “You know, I think I love you even more for that.”

- Kurt has an incredibly patient demeanor, and while your sass might fluster him at first, he always handles it with grace. He might try to counter with a more philosophical or heartfelt response, which often makes you laugh even harder. “Ah, mein Liebe, you are too clever for me,” he’d say with a soft chuckle, before pulling you into a warm embrace. Even when you push his buttons, he can’t help but love you more for it.

- When the teasing gets a little too much, Kurt will lean into his affectionate side, making it impossible for you to keep up the act. He’ll teleport behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and whisper, “No matter how much you tease, I know your heart.” His sweet words, paired with his playful nature, always bring a sense of comfort to the banter, reminding you that, above all, you’re deeply loved.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott is a bit more serious than the others, and your smart-ass comments tend to catch him off guard. He’s used to people following orders and being straightforward, so when you hit him with a sarcastic quip, he’s not always sure how to react at first. He’ll frown slightly, not out of anger, but out of pure confusion. “You’re kidding, right?” he’d ask, trying to gauge your tone.

- Despite his initial bewilderment, Scott can’t help but admire your sharp mind. He may act exasperated, but deep down, he appreciates that you’re not afraid to challenge him, even if it’s through sarcasm. You keep him grounded, reminding him that not everything has to be so serious all the time. “You know, you’ve got a smart mouth,” he’d say with a smirk, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

- When you sass him in front of the team, Scott tries to maintain his composure, but there’s always a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’ll shoot you a quick look that says, “We’ll talk about this later,” but you know he secretly loves the way you keep him on his toes. It’s a side of you that only he gets to see, and despite his stoic nature, it brings out the softer side of him.

- After a long day of leading the X-Men, Scott finds your sass refreshing. He’ll sit next to you, finally letting his guard down as you tease him about being “Mr. Perfect” all the time. “Alright, I get it,” he’d say, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. “You’re right — maybe I do need to lighten up.” And in those moments, he’d pull you close, appreciating every part of your smart-ass self.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik, always the strategist and thinker, isn’t used to someone challenging him with quick wit and sharp humor, especially not someone as close to him as you. The first time you throw a smart-ass comment his way, he pauses, his cold eyes narrowing, but there’s a glint of amusement behind the stern expression. “Careful, little one,” he’d murmur, his voice low and commanding, “you’re playing a dangerous game.”

- Despite his typically serious demeanor, Erik finds your sharp tongue intriguing. He’s surrounded by people who either fear or revere him, so your sass brings something refreshing into his life. Occasionally, when you get a bit too clever for your own good, Erik will raise an eyebrow and smirk, “You really think you’re clever, don’t you?” His tone is dangerous, but you both know there’s a playful undertone hiding beneath the menace.

- Erik’s response to your snarky comments often depends on his mood. In darker moments, he might grow irritated, his patience tested by your quips, especially if you question his decisions. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” he’d snap, though there’s a deep affection behind his frustration. But when he’s feeling more relaxed, Erik has been known to surprise you with his own dry, sarcastic retorts. “Perhaps I should just let you lead the revolution next time,” he’d quip with a smirk, his voice thick with sarcasm, but his eyes soft with affection.

- At the end of the day, Erik admires your courage and intelligence, even if you use them to give him a hard time. There’s a sense of respect in how he handles your smart-ass attitude — after all, he’s seen too much of the world to be fazed by a little sass. In quiet moments, he’ll pull you close, whispering in your ear, “You may be impossible sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

- Bobby loves a good joke, so when you start tossing smart-ass remarks his way, he’s all in for the banter. “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he’d ask, grinning from ear to ear as he prepares to throw a sarcastic comment right back at you. With Bobby, the sass only escalates into playful teasing that often ends with the two of you laughing uncontrollably.

- He’s the kind of guy who thrives on humor, so your quick wit only strengthens your relationship. Whether it’s during training or just hanging out at the mansion, Bobby always finds a way to keep the mood light, and he loves that you can match his energy. “Wow, look at you, Miss Smart-Ass,” he’ll say after you roast him with a particularly sharp comment. “Guess I’m not the only funny one around here.”

- There are times when Bobby’s insecurities come through, especially when your teasing touches on sensitive topics like his struggles with his powers or his place in the team. In those moments, he might brush off your comment with a forced laugh, but you can tell it’s bothered him. Later, he’ll admit, “Hey, about earlier… I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I just… you know, I’ve got my stuff to deal with.”

- Despite the occasional hiccup, Bobby loves that you keep him on his toes. Your sarcasm brings a balance to his humor, creating a dynamic that keeps things fun and light-hearted even during the toughest times. After all, he’s always been the class clown, but with you by his side, he feels like he’s met his match. “You know what?” he’d say, pulling you into a playful hug. “I think we might be the funniest couple in the mansion. No one else stands a chance.”

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- Being with Wade means endless chaos, and your quick wit fits right in. Wade absolutely adores your sass, and from the moment you drop your first sarcastic comment, he’s all over it. “Oh, look who’s got a smart mouth! I like it, babe!” He’s practically bouncing with excitement, eyes gleaming behind his mask. Your banter becomes a regular part of your relationship, with Wade taking every opportunity to match your smart-ass remarks with ridiculous quips of his own.

- Wade’s response to your sarcasm is often over-the-top, always aiming for laughs. You’d roll your eyes at something absurd he does, and Wade, without missing a beat, would respond with, “Oh, did you roll your eyes at me? That’s it, we’re getting a divorce.” It never fails to make you chuckle, and you know that he appreciates how you can keep up with his crazy antics. He loves that you never back down, even when he’s being the most outrageous version of himself.

- However, there are moments when Wade’s insecurity creeps through, particularly when it comes to his appearance or his mental health. If your sarcasm hits a little too close to home, Wade might joke it off, but you can sense the shift in his tone. “Yeah, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be with a guy whose face looks like a melted pizza?” he’d say with a forced grin. You always reassure him, showing him that your wit comes from a place of love, and Wade, with his usual dramatics, would throw himself into your arms, “Aww, babe, you really do love me, scars and all!”

- Despite his unpredictability, Wade loves how your humor keeps him grounded. Your ability to match his energy and throw in some sarcasm helps him feel normal in the whirlwind that is his life. “You know, I think we make a pretty kick-ass duo,” Wade would say, wrapping his arms around you. “You with your snark and me with my endless charm — we’re unstoppable!” And though the world may be chaotic, your relationship with Wade is filled with love, laughter, and plenty of smart-ass remarks.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

- Jean is known for her calm demeanor, so your sarcasm catches her off guard at first. She’s used to people being more respectful around her, especially considering her immense power, but your playful attitude draws out a side of her that she doesn’t often get to express. The first time you make a smart-ass comment, Jean raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Oh, so we’re doing this now, huh?” she’d say, her voice light with amusement.

- As your relationship develops, Jean grows to love your quick wit. It brings a sense of normalcy to her life, something she desperately needs amidst the chaos of being an X-Man. She enjoys the way your banter makes her feel human, reminding her that she’s more than just a telepathic, omega-level mutant. “You’re lucky I don’t read your mind more often,” she’d tease after you make a sarcastic remark, though you both know she’d never actually do that without your permission.

- There are moments, however, when Jean’s powers make her feel overwhelmed and vulnerable. If your sarcasm comes at the wrong time, she might take it to heart, her telepathic abilities amplifying the impact of your words. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” she’d say softly, her eyes downcast. You’d quickly realize that she’s struggling, and after a gentle apology, Jean would nod, grateful for your understanding. “Thank you,” she’d whisper, her voice filled with affection.

- Despite the occasional tension, Jean appreciates how your sharp mind challenges her. Your smart-ass attitude keeps her grounded, helping her navigate the pressures of her powers and responsibilities. “You always know how to keep me on my toes,” she’d say with a smile, leaning into your embrace. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” And while Jean may be one of the most powerful beings in the world, your sarcasm reminds her that she’s also just a woman, capable of love and laughter.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

- Wanda, initially reserved and quiet, is surprised by your quick wit and sarcasm. She’s not used to people being so casual with her, especially given the weight of her powers and her past. The first time you make a smart-ass remark, Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise before a small smile pulls at her lips. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be,” she’d say, amusement dancing in her eyes as she begins to warm up to your teasing nature.

- As your relationship deepens, Wanda grows to appreciate how your humor helps lighten the heavy burdens she carries. Your sarcastic comments often draw her out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” she’d tease back, a smirk on her lips, her Sokovian accent slipping through as she gives you a playful nudge. She loves how you can make her laugh, even when she’s feeling down.

- However, there are moments when Wanda’s emotions become overwhelming, and your sarcasm might accidentally cut too deep. If she’s in a particularly vulnerable state, she might take your comment the wrong way, her powers flickering dangerously as her mood shifts. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” she’d say, her tone sharp. You’d quickly reassure her, explaining that you didn’t mean it, and Wanda, ever self-aware, would soften. “I know,” she’d sigh, taking your hand, “I just… I need some time.”

- Despite the occasional misstep, Wanda loves how your quick wit keeps her grounded. Your playful banter reminds her that not everything needs to be serious, and it helps her find moments of joy in an otherwise heavy world. “You always know how to make me smile,” she’d say softly, leaning into your embrace. “Even when I try to be serious, you just… bring out the light in me.” Your smart-ass attitude becomes a source of comfort for her, a reminder that she’s not alone in the darkness.

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

- Pietro is quick in every sense of the word, so your sharp tongue and sarcastic remarks don’t catch him off guard — in fact, he thrives on it. The first time you throw a snarky comment his way, Pietro’s already grinning before you’ve even finished. “You’re fast, but I’m faster,” he’d quip, zipping around you in a blur before coming to a stop with a smug look on his face. “Think you can keep up, smart-ass?”

- Your sarcasm and quick wit become a game to him, a challenge he’s always ready to meet head-on. Pietro loves the verbal sparring, and his playful nature means that he’s constantly teasing you back. “Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” he’d say with a grin after you make a particularly clever remark, speeding off before you can respond. It’s a back-and-forth that keeps your relationship exciting, always filled with laughter and light-hearted banter.

- However, there are times when your sarcasm touches on his insecurities — like his tendency to rush through life, or his complicated relationship with Wanda. In those rare moments, Pietro might bristle, his smile fading as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, not everything can be a joke,” he’d mutter, clearly hurt. You always know how to handle him though, and after a bit of reassurance, Pietro’s back to his usual self, cracking jokes and challenging you to keep up with him.