Jealousy headcannons! Multi/GN!Reader - Cable, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver.
Ok I know this wasn't on the schedule butttt Yeahhhh. Cable is going to have an extended version of his fic, and I might do the same for the others but no promises!
Also I know that Cable's written half is literally just the snippet I shared with some minor edits but bear with me please his stuff is in the works!!!
TWs: Jelousy. Barfights. No violence on Reader but men are creepy. Mentions of sex work. Cable and gambit make public spectacles it's just what they do. The return of wolverine and the X-men Pietro bc I love him
Cable
Look, any man who comes over to flirt with you after you walk in with a legit wall of muscle has to be either stupid or blind.
Cable is by no means a very jealous man. He's not gonna care if a man (or woman) approaches you and starts up a conversation. He might get a little frustrated if they start flirting with you, but he trusts you. He knows you can take care of yourself and he doesn't want you to feel like he's got you on a leash.
But when someone is being persistent, not taking no for an answer, and hell, putting their hands on you? He doesn't take it too well. He's more of an overprotective type when it comes to his flavor of jealousy.
    âThat beer for me, Beautiful?â The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you donât even think heâs talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. Heâs sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he canât quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cableâs beer closer.
    âLast time I checked it wasnât.â You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.
    âOh c'mon, donât play hard to get. Iâm chill!â You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.
    âSure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.â You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that heâd at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't.Â
    âWhat Husband?â The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. Itâs not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the manâs wrist caught in Cableâs literal iron-clad grip.Â
    âThis Husband.â Cable grunts.
    All of the blood drains from the strangerâs face in an instant, but it doesnât take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cableâs grip, but Cableâs arm doesnât move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cableâs strength many times, but this⌠well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.
    âWhatâs your problem, man?â The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and were getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cableâs shoulder a hard pat as you desperately tried to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable ignores the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.
    â -sâ an ugly bitch, anyway.â The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he shouldâve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide youâve definitely stayed past your welcome.
Gambit
Gambit is probably the most jealous man in this lineup. Again, He will get fidgety and somewhat aggressive when someone approaches you and begins to flirt, but he trusts you. He doesn't want you to think he doesn't, and as a result, he tends to grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself in check.
There's definitely a very, very thin line in between "I don't want to be overbearing" Remy and "This guy needs to take the fucking hint" Remy.
He's mostly fine with drunk bastards, He thinks they're funny, and as long as they're not bothering you for the most part he'll keep the aggression to a minimum. -But the one thing he absolutely cannot stand is snobby pricks who think they can steal you from him because he's a "swamp rat."
"It's a shame to see such a lovely creature like you standing here all alone." You try not to roll your eyes at the man that approaches you. You and Remy were supposed to have a nice, romantic night out. It was your anniversary, and Remy had told you that he wanted to pull out all the stops for this one. Unfortunately, fate wasn't on either of your sides today. The X-men needed Gambit, and you told him that the plans can wait for another time. Remy, in a very gambit fashion, told you to dress up anyway and he bet he would meet you there. Definitely a rather High-stakes gamble, but you loved him, so you said you'd hold him to it.
Unfortunately for you, it looked like the restaurant was hosting an event at the bar for what looked like a rather stuffy- sorry, High-end law firm. You had been content with waiting for Remy, even if the waitress clearly looked convinced he was standing you up. You had ordered something to drink while you waited, and caught the wrong kind of attention during your trip to the bar.
"I'm not alone, I'm waiting for someone." You say, flashing him an annoyed smile. He smiles back in a smartass kind of way, flashing you his Rolex as he pushes up his glasses. Great. He thinks you're a sugar baby- or maybe a sex worker. Either way, you really wished he was anywhere but here.
"Right. I'll be honest with you, I know you've been waiting here for what- and hour now? Hour and a half? Any guy that leaves you here for that long is not worth your time, sweetheart." You cringe at the nickname, but he clearly can't seem to tell. At this point, you start debating your options. You could run to the bathroom, but there weren't any windows you could crawl out of and he could wait at the door for you to come out. You could try to leave, but you didn't want Remy to think that you left him hanging. It's probably best if you stay and wait for him, but man was this guy getting on your nerves.
"Again, I'm waiting on someone. I'm choosing to wait on him, and frankly, I'm not interested in you." You say bluntly, getting more and more aggravated. The man only smirks at you.
"You're certainly a fiesty one. Don't worry, I like it when they play hard to get." He sends you wink that makes you want to sock him, and to be honest, you start to think about it. The bell at the door of the restaurant dings, and you glance over, face breaking out in a smile at the sight of the man you had been waiting on.
Remy was still in his x-men suit, obviously having come fresh from the fight. He's got some dirt on his face, and his hair is a little messier than normal, but you had never been so happy to see him.
"Well, don't you clean up well." You joke as Remy walks to your table. He chuckles, barely sparing the other man a side-eye before picking up your hand to kiss it.
"Sorry, Chère. Originally, I planned on changin', but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here for another moment." Remy's fond gaze turns into a bit of a glare when he finally looks over at the gobsmacked man across the table from you. "I see you've made a new friend?" You roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Remy gets the message.
There's a gasp from the other patrons of the restaurant, as the sound the contact made was rather loud. There's already a red mark forming on the mans face as you take Remy by the hand and begin to lead him out of the restaurant. Remy is looking at you like he'd fallen in love with you all over again.
"You've been waiting all this time for some Cajun freak?" The man blurts out, finally having found his words.
"Watch it, Mon ami." Remy's shoulders tense as he snarls at the prick. You stand up, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before you walk in front of the man. The side of his mouth slightly upturns as you do so, right before you slap the everloving shit out of him.
"I know you really wanted for us to eat here, honey, but to be honest? I like your cooking better anyway."
Nightcrawler
Kurt? Jealous???
Absolutely. He absolutely gets jealous. Kurt is much more of a "cat" kind of jealous than a Guard Dog kind of jealous though. He's not going to do anything crazy like punch anyone, but he's gonna brush up against you, slide his tail around your waist, hold your hand. He wants reassurance from you more than he is angered by whoever is flirting with you.
That's not to say he's not angry. He doesn't like the way some people look at you like a piece of meat instead of the intelligent, beautiful person you are, and he's not afraid to call people out on it.
Kurt knew that the guy you were talking to right now was only stopping to ask you for directions, but he really didn't like how close to you the guy was. Kurt had gone off to get you something to eat from the street food vendor nearby, telling you to just relax and he would be back soon.
When he returned with food in hand, it was obvious to him what was happening, but he still couldn't help but frown. The man is leaning into your space as he shows you the map in his hands. It's fine. There was obviously nothing really going on, the stranger must have been simply touchy. He then watches as the man sets a hand on the back of your waist to point at a building up ahead, and Kurt's mind quickly changes.
Obviously, you had stepped out of the stranger's reach quickly, uncomfortable with the action, but Kurt still slinked up to your side like a cat, pulling you close with his tail as he hands you your food, resting his newly freed hand behind your back.
"There you are, Meine Liebe. I hope you didn't wait for too long." Kurt says sweetly, giving you a grin. You smile back at him, thanking him for the food. You felt relieved to see him. Sure, the stranger that had been speaking to you seemed to be a nice man, but there was a certain amount of comfort and security Kurt provided when he was near you. Kurt makes a show of leaning in and kissing you on the cheek that makes you giggle. The stranger clears his throat after a quick moment.
"-Sorry if I interrupted your date. I appreciate the directions!" He says quickly, face flushed red from embarresment.
"You're perfectly fine! I hope you're able to find what you're looking for alright." You respond sweetly, waving as the man walks off. Kurt is pouting again when you look at him, tail still wrapped comfortably around you. You can't help but giggle.
"You're so jealous." You laugh. Kurt gives you an innocent look as he brushes off the accusation.
"Whaaat? No. Ich habe dich vermisst. That is all!"
Quicksilver
I'm not even gonna lie the fic half of this is just part of that enemies to lovers hcs that I wrote
anyway!!
Pietro is a very pouty, bratty kind of Jealous.
Like sure he trusts you and all but you actually looked at someone else while they were speaking to you? >:[ Don't look at them. Look at him. Smile at him not them. You're laughing at something they said? Well, he's funnier than them!!
He's just, so pouty over the smallest, pettiest things. He just needs a smooch on the forehead and some reassurance and also possibly cuddles, and he'll be fine. God he's such a brat ILHSM
However, If someone is actually flirting with you or going too far and making you uncomfortable, he will in fact throw hands. Or do his speedster thing and find a way to embarrass them, like pantsing them or planting something embarrassing on them. One time he snatched a guy's cell and called his wife before planting it in the man's pocket so she could hear all the flirting he was doing. Now that was fun.
"So I heard you had dinner with the wolfie guy tonight." The sound of Pietro's voice makes you yelp in surprise. You whirl around to see him leaning against the wall of your room, arms crossed. You scoff, and pick a pillow off of your bed to chuck it at him. He catches it easily.
"His name is Logan, and No. Not really. All we did was happen to sit next to each other at dinner." You turn back around to sit at your vanity, but Pietro is already there, sitting on the stool with the pink pillow tucked into his arms.
"So you did have dinner with him?" He pouts. You roll your eyes at him, holding back a laugh as you shove him off the seat. He looses his balance for less than a second before there's a gust and he's sitting cross-legged on your bed, having tossed the pillow to the side.
"What does it matter to you, anyway? You're not even supposed to be here, Pietro." You tease as you sit down, unable to keep yourself from smiling. You comb through your hair as you ready yourself for bed, still grinning like an idiot as you hear Pietro huff and haw.
"Why shouldn't it matter?" He asks, watching as you complete your routine. "I- I have a reason to care." He stutters out cheeks flushing a light pink that reaches his ears. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.
"Don't laugh!" Pietro objects, and it sends you into a fit of laughter as you stand back up and flop onto your back on the bed next to him.
"He's not my type anyway." You say. It only takes a second before Pietro is leaning over you, caging you between his arms. There's the ghost of a grin beginning to form on his face, simply at the sight of your own cheesy expression.
"What is your type, then?" He asks, and you cock an eyebrow at him.
"Let's just say I prefer a man who can keep up with me." You say with a wink that may or may not have been the most terribly, corny action you could have done. Pietro doesn't seem to care as his face is split with an equally as corny grin.
Both of you are caught off guard by someone calling your same from the hallway, and then a knock shortly after. You take Pietro's moment of distraction and quickly lean up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Pietro looks absolutely shocked.
"You better get going." You whisper. He smiles at you, almost in disbelief, and then he's gone, the window left open and the breeze catching on curtains, blowing gently.
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ââĄâ Hi!! Welcome to my mutant madness!!! My love for x-men has reawakened with the new show, and its criminal how few fanfictions there is for this Fandom. So here I am! ââĄâ
â Fic I'm the most proud of this week : Bloody halloween â
I absolutely love getting requests and comments! Leave as many as you'd like :)
I don't wanna make a long rule post, so I'll throw it in here.
I mainly write m/f m/gn reader inserts. I'm okay with writing headcannons and fics both nfsw and sfw, although nsfw works I need a little more time with.
For the love of god, please don't send any requests for incest, piss, scat, or anything along those lines.
Please be patient with me while I write! things may take me some time. Along with that, I might not write every request I receive, so please keep that in mind!
Major WIP: Four lives, Three deaths. | Wolverine/Fem!Reader- reincarnation fic, angst, fluff, and a bit of smit.
Blue over you | Wolverine/gn!reader -Lt. Angst, Open ended.
Come back to bed | Wolverine/GN!reader - SFW, pure fluff
Alright! Last time this one will be posted lol. Thanks everyone for being patient with me, I know Cable isn't exactly a fan favorite compared to the other characters I write for on this blog, so I appreciate everyone being cool while I've been finishing this :)
If you'd rather read the SFW version, You can find it here :) also, This fic has come callbacks to the previous cable fics I've written, So I'd recommend you read/Reread that one first!
TWS: MDNI!!! Jealousy, creepy men, we choose the bear and the bear is Cable. Slight miscommunication, but healthy talks happen. PNV sex, fingering, dirty talk. Usage of pet name "pretty girl". Raw sex, wrap it bf u tap it guys.
    The bar is busier tonight than youâve ever seen it. Itâs humid, stuffy, and overly loud with all the warm bodies packed into the small space. Youâve never been one for crowds, but you know for a fact that Cable is certainly not a people person.
    The two of you had been crammed into a corner booth for about an hour and a half, originally having come to the bar to meet a contact that never ended up showing. Normally, the two of you would have gone home by now. It was your idea to stay and get something to eat, wanting to at least make some good with the newfound downtime.Â
    You were comforted by the feeling of Cableâs keen gaze keeping an eye on you as you wove through the crowd, finding your way to the bar. You hold back a smile as you sit down, ordering some drinks for the two of you as you wait on the food. Eventually, you glance back at Cable and find him still staring at you, making eye contact as you send him a smile. Youâre not surprised, but you raise a playful eyebrow at him. Cable, ever the protective grump, rolls his eyes at you in response, but you still spot the small smile he gives you when you send him a wink.
    âThat beer for me, Beautiful?â The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you donât even think heâs talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. Heâs sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he canât quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cableâs beer closer.
    âLast time I checked it wasnât.â You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.
    âOh c'mon, donât play hard to get. Iâm chill!â You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.
    âSure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.â You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that heâd at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't.Â
    âWhat Husband?â The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. Itâs not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the manâs wrist caught in Cableâs literal iron-clad grip.Â
    âThis Husband.â Cable grunts.Â
    All of the blood drains from the strangerâs face in an instant, but it doesnât take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cableâs grip, but Cableâs arm doesnât move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cableâs strength many times, but this⌠well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.
    âWhatâs your problem, man?â The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and was getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cableâs shoulder a hard pat as you desperately try to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable is ignoring the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.
    â -sâ an ugly bitch, anyway.â The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he shouldâve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide youâve definitely stayed past your welcome.
    âOhhkay. Yeah, letâs go.â You tug on Cable's arm, practically dragging him away at first. You werenât worried about the drunk, that guy sure as hell wasnât getting up any time soon. To be honest, you were more concerned with the fact that you could never meet someone in this bar discreetly ever again. Yay.Â
    The drive back to todayâs apartment is silent, and youâre thinking too much about Cable, honestly. Heâs not necessarily talkative himself, arms crossed in the passenger seat as he looks out the window. You send a nervous glance his way. You had called him your husband, and although it felt right in the moment as you tried to get another man off your back, you didnât think that Cable would actually hear you. And boy, did he hear you. Sure, he responded⌠like he did. The memory of it almost makes your stomach flutter. Part of you wants to be absolutely delusional and just revel in the fact that he inadvertently called himself your husband, but what if he felt forced into it? What if he only said that so that you wouldnât be caught in a lie? When you think about it, that had to be it. I mean, he was being overprotective in the first place, but he was just trying to defend you from unwanted attention. God- you just wish you could pull your thoughts together. Pick up the confusion and chuck it out the door.
    You drive on autopilot, and before you know it, youâre already âhomeâ. Nathan splits off from you, going to change probably. The fact that he hasnât really looked at you yet makes you even more anxious, but to be honest, you probably wouldnât have noticed if he had. He wasnât usually affectionate when he was high-strung, and you knew that, but still. You can't seem to let it go. Youâre curled up on the couch when Nathan joins you, fresh out of the shower and already in casual clothes. He gives you a little space as he sits, like he doesnât want to startle you. Heâs still as stoic as ever, but at least he doesnât look angry. Youâre itching to say something, to speak, and he can tell.Â
    Nathan could feel your anxiety since the car, and no matter how badly he wanted to know why, he could tell that you needed a moment to get it out. He crosses his arms with a sigh. He didnât consider himself a jealous man, but when that idiot at the bar started talking to you he just couldnât stand it. He knows he blew your cover big time with that punch, but there would always be another crusty bar to go to. In all honesty, he was more concerned with your change in attitude. You receded into yourself in-between the bar and the car, and he didnât want to know if he was the reason why. He wonders if he overstepped.
    âSorry, by the way.â You finally manage to say. Nathan cocks an eyebrow at you.
    âFor what?â He asks. You look away nervously, fiddling with your fingers.
    âFor when I called you my husband back there. I know weâre certainty not⌠well, I was just scrambling and needed something concrete- and calling you my boyfriend felt weird so-âÂ
    âTake a breath.â Youâre surprised as he cuts you off, feeling a little stupid as you try to collect yourself. There was so much you had been through, so much that you had learned how to handle, but this?? Why was it so hard to communicate feelings like this when you normally can communicate with him so easily on the battlefield? He was probably tired of your rambling.
    âYou donât have to explain yourself to me. I get it. We wouldnât have even had a problem if the guy had taken a hint.â Nathan says, pissed off at the thought of the guy putting his hands on you still. You glance at him, a confused look on your face as you lean back on the couch.
    âSoâŚ?â
    âSo, donât apologize. Itâs not like I actuallyâŚâ Nathan stops for a moment, and your heart skips a beat. âI didnât mind itâ He finishes.
    âOh?... Oh.â You say, slightly taken aback. Nathan is flushed red, staring straight ahead as he avoids looking at you.
    âSo weâre okay, right?â You ask.
    âOf course we are,â Nate responds immediately, without even thinking. He looks over at you finally, still blushing a little. You relax at that, having a bit of deja vu. You realize that one of you had moved closer during the conversation, and your sides were pressing together. Nathanâs hair is messy, the gell having washed out during his shower. You always liked how fluffy it was like this, and to be honest, you can't help but reach up and run a hand through his hair. He huffs at the action, a ghost of a smile on his face as he rolls his eyes at you, but he doesnât stop you from doing it. Heâs a bit too tall for you to comfortably reach, even sitting down. Your arm is getting a bit tired, but you donât want to ruin a sweet moment like this one. After a minute of you debating what to do, Nathan sighs and pulls you into his lap.Â
    âYou think too much.â He says, closing his eyes. He brings one of your hands back up to his hair, encouraging you to keep going. You hadnât expected the action, almost startled by it. Sure, it wasn't like you had never touched him before, but the two of you⌠you were still getting the hang of things. New changes, familiar feelings. It felt good to be this close to him, and for once you know that you donât have to worry about your time together being cut short.
    âDoes it bother you?â You ask quietly. âWhen I think too much?â Nathan hums, hands resting on your waist.
    â...No. You think more than anyone Iâve ever met. Your mind is always running about something or other. Really, Iâd be more concerned if you werenât thinking.â You notice a slight change in his demeanor during his last sentence, but you donât comment on it. Instead, you find yourself admiring his face. Your hands shift down from his hair, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes, across his cheekbones. Your eyes drift down to his lips, and you canât help but lean in and kiss him. Heâs surprised for a moment, eyes flickering open and then shut as he cups the nape of your neck and kisses you back. You sigh into him, moving to straddle his legs as his left arm tugs you closer to him by your waist. The cold metal chills you through the fabric of your shirt, his thumb idly rubbing against you.Â
    Both of you are out of breath when you separate, caught up in the unbreakable connection between the two of you. You look into his pretty brown eyes, and you want to say it. You want to say those little words so badly. But you know you shouldnât. There was something about saying it that made everything a little too real, that made everything seem a bit too different. You want to say it, but you don't. You know he knows. You know- you hope he feels the same. Itâs all you could ever hope.
    âOf course I do,â Nathan whispers, a look so similar to heartbreak on his face. Your eyes widen, once again not realizing his intrusion into your thoughts. Then again, maybe you were just so used to him lingering in the back of your mind that you didnât notice anymore. You kiss him again. This one is slower, more intimate, more sensual, and he returns it in the same manner. Youâre feeling a little sappy, but content just the same. Nathan finds himself in a similar well of emotions, hoping that next time he won't have to remind you for you to know itâs true.Â
    Nathan kisses you again, and again. He drags his teeth across your lower lip before smoothing the skin with his tongue. You eagerly open your mouth, goosebumps forming on your skin as he takes the invitation. Both of his hands have moved down to your waist, squeezing the plush skin as the kiss begins to morph into something a little more intense than it originally was. You feel cold fingers start to drift under the fabric of your shirt for a split second before he shifts you to the side.
    Nathan begins to crawl over you, pressing your back onto the couch cushions as he keeps kissing you. He holds himself up with his left arm as the other one begins to slide further underneath your shirt. Heâs completely caught up in you and the feeling of you against him. His kisses begin to trail down the side of your neck, and itâs like he knows every sensitive spot by heart. You tangle a hand in his hair again in an entirely different manner than you had done the last time. He shifts his weight so that his other arm has more room to work with.Â
    The mood dies a little when your hair gets pinched by something. You let out a yelp of pain, and Nathan immediately recedes from you. You flinch at another tug, realizing that your hair has gotten caught in his metal arm. Nathan is wide-eyed as he leans up, untangling himself from you so that he can carefully tug your hair free. You sit up as he does, rubbing your sore scalp. He raises a hand like he wants to do the same but doesnât. He makes a sour look at himself and his arm before he begins to lean away from you completely.
    âSorry, Iâve overstepped,â Nathan says. Your stomach drops to your feet as you scramble to grab a hold of his shirt, keeping him close to you in a bit of an awkward position.
    âNo!â You say, a little louder than you intended to. Nathan looks a you, more confused than surprised, like he couldnât fathom why you were holding onto him, why you wanted him to continue.
     âI⌠Iâm fine with⌠just-â Youâre struggling to say it, flushed beet red at just the thought of what youâre trying to say. Eventually, you huff and give up, fingers playing with the fabric of his shirt. You tug on it a little, but Nathan doesnât move.
    âDonât make me ask, Nate.â You say. His breath hitches. You bite your lip and his eyes catch on the sight. He catches himself before he gets a little too distracted, and glances away for a moment before making a decision.
    âOkay. But we're not doing this on the couch.â Nathan grumbles. He stands, pulling you up with him as he does so, and you canât stop yourself from tugging him down for yet another kiss. He has to bend down to meet you, a little too tall to kiss you comfortably. Itâs not much of a problem though, especially when the man you're kissing is strong enough to lift you into his arms like you're weightless. The kiss only breaks for a second as he lifts you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him as he walks to the bedroom. You realize just how much warmth had begun to pool at the change of position, feeling a wetness between your legs that you wonder if he can feel.Â
    You donât want to distract him as he carries you, but every time you pull away from his kisses he drags you back to him, biting and sucking on your lips in faux annoyance. Itâs like he already has the apartment mapped out in his mind, barely needing to look to navigate through it all. He doesnât bother closing the bedroom door when he gets there, plopping you down on the bed before heâs crawling over you again, kissing your neck and collarbones as his hands drift underneath your shirt. His hand is rough and calloused compared to the plush skin he finds there, the metal of his other one cold and smooth. You swear it leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake.Â
    You clench your thighs together as he touches you, not quite used to the feeling. Itâs been a while since anyone has touched you like this, and you find yourself completely overtaken by Nathan. He nips at the skin of your neck, and you gasp at the feeling. He continues to suck and lick at the spot, and when heâs done, he starts another one. You wonder if the man at the bar would have still approached you if you had been marked up like this before, wearing a purple, tender kind of jewelry that youâd only let Nathan give to you. You try to project the thought on purpose, hoping that heâll pick it up. You think about everywhere else he could mark you, and Nathan curses as he sees the images in his mind as clearly as they appear in yours, a hand thumbing at your bra before it slides under you to unclip it.
    Nathan leans back as he takes your shirt off, the bra coming with it. You try not to shy up as he openly admires your breasts, watching as your nipple pebbles when he brings his cool left hand up to caress the skin. His eyes catch your own as he leans down to your chest, kissing a trail from your collarbones to the peak of your left breast. He sucks and nips at the soft, squishy skin, taking the nipple into his mouth after he had his fill. You let out a small noise of pleasure, gasping at the feeling of his tongue against the sensitive nub as his other hand lovingly caresses the other.
    Your hands wander up and down the expanse of his back, sliding under his pajama shirt. Nathan shudders as you gingerly slide your fingers over his scars, and the torn skin that marks the difference between man and machine. Your fingers follow the seam of scarring delicately, caressing the skin. You feel how his skin prickles, and wonder about the extent of his sensitivities before he nips a little harshly at your nipple to catch your attention. You wince at the feeling before he smoothes it over with his tongue. He kisses your breast one last time before he moves back to your lips.Â
   You lean into the kiss with a hum, inviting him inside of your mouth as his hands trail down to your waistband. His thumbs hook underneath the fabric before he starts to pull it off of you, underwear included. He breaks from the kiss, wiping the trail of spit that connects your mouths. He leans back onto his knees, kissing down your stomach as he slides your pants off completely. His shirt is next to go, revealing the strong muscles that lie underneath. Your eyes trail down to the bulge in his pants, a certain kind of warmth forming in your chest as you realize that every part of him is intimidating. You feel yourself clench at the thought, spreading your legs shyly, inviting him to touch you where you want him the most.
    Itâs like something in Nathan's snaps as he takes in the sight of you. Your flushed face, heaving chest. The marks heâs left across your upper body.
    âFuck.â He practically growls as he grabs ahold of your thighs, dragging your core flush to his hips and grinding into you smoothly. You canât help but moan in both pleasure and surprise at the sensation of his soft pajama pants pressing into your bare lips. He feels good against you, his hardness hot and aching to be inside of your warmth.
    âPlease,â You gasp. âPlease, Nate. I need you.â He curses again at the sound of your voice, his hips jerking into your own.Â
    âNot yet. Beautiful.â He rumbles, Struggling to pull himself away from the steady grind. â-Canât yet. Donât want to hurt you.â You whine when he stops moving, and he leans forward to kiss you. You twitch at the feeling of his thick fingers sliding through your folds, collecting the wetness he finds there. Nathan groans, knowing just how much you want him from that simple action. He teases you, sliding the pads of his fingers down from your clit to the slit below it, circling your entrance before doing it all over again. You donât have to say a word for Nathan to know youâre complaining. He chuckles at you, before slipping a finger inside.
    Itâs thick. You knew it would be, but feeling it was entirely different. You break from the kiss with a moan as he curls the finger and catches that spongey spot inside of you. He moves his kisses to your cheek, and the spot below your ear as he has one arm keep your hips from jerking. Heâs slow and thorough as he prepares you, a second finger sliding in with ease when he deems you ready for it. You knew he was good with his hands, but this was giving you a whole new definition of the phrase. The wet noises coming from you are almost embarrassing as he fingers you, hand absolutely soaked from your wetness already. He uses his other hand to start rubbing your clit, and the pleasure almost becomes too much.
    âNathan.â You whimper his name, pleading with him. You needed him, badly. You didnât want to cum yet, not without him inside of you, not without hearing his low groans and moans as you take him exactly like you were meant to. You clench around his fingers at the thought, and he hums as he pulls them away.Â
    He pulls you up, switching the position so that youâre on top of him. You donât hide the fact that youâre watching him as he finally takes off his pants, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen as it slips out of the waistband. You wait till heâs fully kicked them off before you begin to stroke him, twisting your hand at the head of his cock. He groans out your name, and another plume of fire lights inside of you as he does so. You really liked how that sounded, falling from his lips.Â
    Heâs just as thick as you thought he would be. Your hand can't wrap fully around him, red and straining. His cock twitches as you run your thumb across the slit, collecting the precum that was beading there. You're addicted to the noises falling from his mouth, giving him a slight squeeze to hear him moan again.Â
    Nathan grabs your wrist gently when he's had enough, face flushed and breathing heavily. He helps you angle your hips over him, lining himself up with your slit. The head of his cock notches against you, and both of you want so desperately for him to be inside. There's a quiet - schlick- as he slides through that first ring of muscle, both of you moaning at the feeling.
    You take it slow while you're taking him in, circling your hips as You lower yourself down slowly. Fuck- this feels so much better than his fingers. You rest your head against his chest as you struggle to take him, even as wet as you are.
    His hands comfortingly slide up and down your thighs when he bottoms out. You take a moment to collect yourself, feeling a slight pinch with how deeply he fit inside of you. Nathan gives you time, pulling you into another breath taking kiss as you adjust.
    When you're comfortable, you begin gently rocking your hips against his own, feeling Nathan sigh against you. You're grinding your clit against his pelvis each time you rock, enjoying the added pressure against your sweet spot. You begin to work yourself into a pace, reveling in Nathan's groans as you bounce on top of him.Â
    His cock is hitting all the right spots inside of you, his hands now gripping the flesh of your ass as he thrusts up into you with each stroke of your hips. He feels so unbelievably good, hot and heavy inside of you.Â
    You desperately try to keep up as his thrusts pick up the pace, wanting all of him and more. But your thighs were staring to get sore, and your knees aching from the position. You tuck your head into the crook of Nathanâs neck, balancing yourself on him as a means to catch up, but you just can't. You slow your hips, catching your breath as Nathan continues to trust his hips. He's trying his best to slow down for you, absolutely lost in the feeling of your soft skin and wet cunt.
  âCome on, pretty girl. You can do better than that.â Nate says, making you moan in surprise as he gives you a particularly sharp thrust. You shake your head, pleading with him to just roll you over, take you at whatever speed he would like. He's hesitant at first but you're kissing his neck, nipping and sucking at a spot he doesn't remember being so sensitive.
    âPlease, Nate.â You whisper into his ear, and he shivers, body stiffening under you. âPlease,âÂ
    In less than a second, you're under him, legs on top of his shoulders as he thrusts into you wildly. His eyes are hooded, gazing at you lustfully as your breasts bounce with every movement. The sound of skin slapping on skin is loud and pornographic as his balls slap against you with his thrusts, the grunts and moans coming from the both of you not much better.
    Nathan brings a hand down to rub at your clit as his hips begin to stutter, closing in on his pleasure. Your hips jerk as he does so, quickly reaching that peak of white-hot pleasure yourself. He moans your name as your inner walls clench, back arching as you get closer- closer- so close-
    You call out for him when you cum, his hands holding you still by your hips as he ruthlessly fights to reach that peak of pleasure. You're clenching around him as you ride out your orgasm, and it's almost too much.
    Nathan pulls out of you when he cums, sticky streams of white splattering on your stomach. He grinds himself against you a few more times, coming down from the pleasure. Your legs have gone limp against him, boneless as you pant and tremble beneath him. Nathan kisses the inside of your ankles before he eases them down.Â
    He leans above you, kissing you tenderly as he cleans you up with his shirt, having dragged the clothing into his hands with his telekinesis. When he's done thoroughly wiping you down, he falls beside you. He rolls you onto his side as he holds you tightly. He's pleasantly exhausted, looking at you in a way that you've never seen before.Â
    His large hand comes up to rest against your neck, thumb running over the tender spots on your skin. You make a bit of a face at the soreness.
    âThose are definitely gonna bruise, aren't they?â You ask, somewhat weary of the marks now that the sexy excitement has worn off. Nate huffs a laugh.
    âYeah.â He affirms. You pout at him as he brushes the hair out of your face, sighing in exasperation. To be honest, you didnât mind it too much. Certainly not enough to be mad at him for it.Â
    âDid you mean what you said earlier?â You ask, closing your eyes as you snuggle into him. Nathanâs hand rubs your back soothingly as you start to drift off.
    âHm?â
    âDid you mean it. When you said you didnât mind me calling you my husband.â Nathan is silent for a moment. You donât quite have the energy to read into it like you would have before, but you're relieved when he speaks up.
    â...yeahâ You smile at his answer, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest as you begin to fall asleep, content and wrapped in his arms.
So I'm warming up to the idea of Cable now with this new animation style. And now I can't help but imagine a mutant reader seeing him shirtless for the first time đđ˝đđ˝. Maybe she's helping him treat a wound he cant reach on his back and he's too worn out to rely on his telekinesis for it. Sure she knows that he has a metal arm. Techno-organic viruses were nasty business. But she never imagined she'd get to see the stark contrast of metal and flesh up close. Just a tender moment where she gets to see him at his most vulnerable. Preferably sfw. Sorry if this is too long winded or specific. Really love your writing and enjoy what you share with us regardless if u choose this one or not đŤśđ˝
SFW!Cable/GN!Reader
OOOOGHHHH when I tell you I have been thinking about this since you sent me the ask!! I've been dying to write this but forced myself to follow a schedule :( I've never really been a Cable girly but this scenario has been in my head non-stop! I just hope this fic does the same to others!!! Speaking of which, I hope this isn't too OOC for him! This also might get a pt 2 with some smooching đ
Read pt. 2 Here :)
-Ps- Heads up, finals week is coming up for me and I have a lot of essays and work to do. my writing is sadly going to slow down a bit. I don't think I'm going to close requests for now but it's not out of the realm of possibility!
TWs: Can't really think of any. Gross depictions of techno-organic shit. As always, Reader written while picturing fem! but no pronouns mentioned. The reader is short in this one, sorry to all my Amazonian friends.
    Prime sentinels were like wasps. Squashing one could be relatively easy with the right tools, but it was difficult to handle multiples at once. It had been a rough day, and your ears were still ringing from the sounds of blaster fire when you got to the safe house. Your hands are shaking from the adrenaline, body exhausted from overusing your mutant powers. Bruises are forming all over you, and despite the pain and soreness, you know you got off easy compared to Cable.Â
    Heâs got an arm slung around your shoulder, using you as a crutch as you help him limp over to the table- although youâre sure youâre not a very good one, too short for him to properly lean on. His gun clanks on the floor as he sits, grunting as the movement sends shooting pains through his body. You can tell his left arm is aching, the techno-organic virus fighting to beat the telekinetic powers keeping them still. You werenât the only one who overdid it today, but you also werenât the one who had to keep a virus from eating you alive.
    Once Cable is settled, the routine starts. You cautiously make a round through the safe house, making sure blinds are drawn and entryways secured. Usually, the task was split between the two of you, being faster and safer than it would be alone- but he would take it over when you were badly hurt. It was only natural that you would do the same. You feel the sting of anxiety and worry in your heart. Cable had saved your ass today. He had done so many times, but normally the fighting wasnât this extreme. You had been stupid, and he was suffering the consequences.Â
    A series of pained grunts lead you back into the kitchen once youâve finished, and you can tell Cable is pissed just by the tone of them. Youâre facing his back when you walk in, noticing the large red stain that spans across the width of his shoulders. You try to hide the worry on your face as you approach him. He has the medkit sprawled out on the counter, sorting through the various items in it.
    âCanât believe this thing doesnât have a damn mirror.â He grunts. You hum in response, looking him over before examining the items on the table.
    âWhat do you need a mirror for?â You ask, voice coming out a little hoarse. You clear your throat, must be from the smoke earlier. Cable sends you a look, tossing his head towards his back. You mouth an âohâ before looking at him, unable to hide your worried expression. Youâd seen him stitch his wounds up with his telekinesis before, when the fight was all guns and no powers. An action like that was childâs play for someone of his capabilities. For him to actively avoid it, and the way his arm seemed to be bothering him more than normal⌠It made you worried. It made you feel guilty.Â
    You look down at the suture kit, open on the table from where Cable had unzipped it, and then look back at him, wordlessly asking. He gives you a cautious look for a moment, before it shifts into something much softer. He doesnât bother nodding, choosing to simply take his shirt off instead.
    You blush a little but quickly get to work, grabbing a pair of gloves and pulling them on. Theyâre too big for you, meant to fit Cableâs sturdy hands instead of your own smaller ones. You try not to get distracted by the sight of him shirtless as you pick up what you need and get behind him. The air has shifted between the two of you, forming into something a little more intimate. Something that builds itself on words unspoken, truths that neither of you is quite ready to communicate yet.
    His back is broad and beautiful, dotted with scars and bruises. The gash on his shoulders is from a stray blast, starting at the top of his left shoulder and ending at the lower shoulder blade of his right.Â
    Youâre not sure if you had been ready to see the cut-off between flesh and metal.
    The cords of metal attach to the skin of his shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. They sprout from underneath the skin, winding against each other in a way that makes no clear sense to you. The top layers of skin are rough, keloid scarring having formed at the impasse of skin and metal. It's horrific, the way the virus has both eaten and forced its way under the skin. The top of the gash is somewhat deep, the deep inner cording revealed by the wound cutting through the top of his skin has you unable to look away despite the horror that has taken you.
   âI can feel you staring, you know.â Cableâs rumbling voice causes you to snap back to reality.
    âRight. Sorry. I didnât mean toâŚâ You trail off, not fully able to place the words. He sighs, and you mistake it for annoyance. You quickly get back on track and begin to disinfect the wound. Cable hardly flinches as you do so. Youâre overly cautious as you stitch him up, focusing on each stitch being perfectly placed. You know they wouldnât stay for long. Cable had a habit of tearing his stitches. You hope that maybe youâd be able to keep that from happening this time.
   You place both hands on his shoulder blades when you are done. The nerves have worn off as the pseudo-doctor in you took over. Youâre trying to examine the stitches, but find that your attention keeps being drawn back to that stark contrast of his shoulder. If Cable notices, he doesnât say anything. You glance at the back of his head, trying to gauge what heâs feeling.Â
    Your left hand drifts a little. Cable shudders as your thumb gently traces that line of scarring, the metal of his arm feeling extra cold compared to the heat of his skin. Youâre waiting for him to say something. To tell you to back off. To grumble and shake you off and avoid speaking to you like he used to when you first started to work together- when he was so determined not to get attached.Â
   But he doesnât say anything. Not at first, anyway. The tenseness of his shoulders slowly gives as the gentle touching morphed into more purposeful touches, working the stiff muscles- what was left of the organic ones, anyway.Â
    Itâs intimate. Itâs quiet. Itâs⌠nice. Part of you wishes it would last a little longer. Part of you wishes he would let you touch him like this more often.Â
    Cable stiffens again as the thought crosses your mind, recoiling away from you. He stands suddenly, turning around to face you. His towering stature used to make you nervous out of fear. Now youâre nervous for a completely different reason. Part of you had forgotten about the glimpses he takes into your mind. A flicker of anxiety ignites when you realize how much he might have seen. The two of you just look at each other for a moment, his brown eyes hard compared to the softness from earlier. You hadnât meant to think so much. You didnât think he was horrific. It was the virus. What it was doing to him. The energy and effort it takes out of him. That was what scared you.
    Cable was used to the stares. The horror. Most recoiled at the sight of his flesh. It only made sense to him when you did too.
    But Nathan⌠Nathan wasnât ready for the depth of your thoughts. The care in your eyes. He wasnât ready for the depth of his own feelings. The ones that cause such a storm within him. The ones that cause him to be stupid. The ones that make him focus more on saving you than the goal of every mission.
    âIs this⌠Are we okay?â You ask. He didnât need to be a telepath to sense the fear that has swelled within you. Most of your emotions were always written on your face. It made things easier for him when he didnât have to search for your thoughts. That hardness in his eyes softens yet again, and he glances away for a moment.Â
    â... Yeah.â Is all he says. His heart feels light when you finally smile at him, even though an underlying nervousness still resides behind that smile. You let out a relieved sigh, and he canât bear to look at you any longer. Instead, he sits back down. He faces away from you, giving you the space to finish taking care of the wound on his back.Â
    You donât realize how late it is until youâre finished, and the mess on the counter has been cleaned and contained back in the medkit. The two of you sit together as you eat. The food isnât great- consisting of an MRE thatâs not exactly as advanced as the futuristic weapons and technology would lead you to believe. He doesnât say anything when you lean on his shoulder, or when your breathing evens out, having fallen asleep on his side.
  The aches and pains donât really bother Nathan as he carries you to bed, but the thoughts of you, your feelings, your thoughts⌠Those keep him awake longer than any wound would.
@gildedjerk YOU DID THIS TO ME.
I was supposed to finish my homework an hour ago but I wrote this instead. I literally haven't written a part 2 to anything this quickly ever. what is happening to me
Read pt 1 here :)
TWS: Angst with happy ending. Falling buildings, minor depictions of death, timeliness bullshit, big man cries and we smooch him. Possibly part 3 if the mood takes me
 For the first time in a long while, Nathan is panicking. Buildings in the city are crumbling around him, sentinels closing in around every street corner- and he can't find you. He calls out your name, and you don't respond. He reaches for you, searching for your mind with the telepathic ability he can spare- and he can't feel you.Â
    He can't feel you.
    For the first time, he's more struck with the absence of your running mind than he had ever been annoyed by it.
    He should have gone with you. He never should have let you split away from him. The two of you were a duo. No matter how much grief you gave him when you first started to tag along, he couldnât imagine life without you. He refused to. Cable narrowly dodges a falling fire escape, and he knows heâs running out of time. He calls for you, again, and again- and thereâs no response. He canât let this happen. He wonât.Â
    Cable bolts down the street as the smoke billows and the world crumbles. The device on his wrist beeps, and his blood runs cold when he realizes itâs a warning. Still- he perseveres. He follows the psychic echo you left behind, rounding every corner he can, staying on your scent like a bloodhound. He wouldnât leave without you. Not again.Â
    Heâs getting closer, he can feel it- but his fear only grows, knowing that you were so close, and yet he canât feel you. He canât find that beautiful mind of yours. He canât find your memories. Your nervousness. Your running mind. He canât feel that love he was so afraid of anymore- and he is so scared for an entirely different reason than before.Â
    He follows your trail through a warehouse, weaving in-between the machinery as he hears the distinct sound of a sentinel, but heâs horrified when he realizes itâs not coming towards him. Towards you. Itâs walking away. Cable exits the warehouse, and on the other side, he finds⌠nothing.Â
    Cable finds rubble. The building in front of him is rubble. He hears the shrieking of metal as the building on his left begins to fall, but heâs preoccupied. A beeping is heard, but it doesnât come from him. It sounds again and again. Never stopping.Â
    Cable sees the blue light from underneath the rubble, and he finds a device identical to his own. Itâs still attached to your arm, but you are not there. Your mind is not there.
     The building to his left finally gives in to the weight and falls.Â
    A stabbing influx of⌠something, strikes Cableâs forehead, and he wakes up in a cold sweat, lying on the cot in the safehouse. His body is disoriented, his mind chilled with something more than just horror. Cable realizes that it wasnât a dream, It was a vision. It was the future. A future.Â
    It was real. It felt so real. Heâs not entirely sure it hadnât happened. Cable sits up frantically, looking towards your cot to find you. But youâre not there. His mind is still addled by the influx of information, powers mixed and scatterbrained, unable to find and feel. The one thing it still seems able to do is keep the virus at bay. Heâs stumbling as he stands. Cable slams the bedroom door open, that cold horror all he can think of as his mind cannot find you in its haze.
    He moves through the house like a storm cloud, opening every door, searching for you in the same meticulous manner he uses to search the house for threats.
    You find him before he finds you. Having heard the commotion, you exited the kitchen, stepping into the hallway halfway wondering if there had been a breach in the security.Â
    âNate?â The footsteps stop abruptly when you call out for him, only to pick up the pace a second later. Cable looks absolutely furious when he exits a spare room, storming over to you in a manner that almost makes you afraid heâs going to yell at you.
    But he doesn't. The moment Nathan reaches you, he takes hold of your face, and he kisses you like heâd never get the chance to kiss you again. Itâs desperate, almost forceful- but after a moment of confusion, you kiss him back. His hold is all-consuming, presenting his love and care for you out of urgency, and necessity. Nathan only pulls away when his thoughts pull back together. He looks at you in shock, like he himself hadnât expected the kiss to happen. He looks worried. Scared. You pull him down by his collar to kiss him again- if only to wipe those emotions clean from his face. Tears are running down his face, but he canât bring himself to pull away from you like he had so many times before.
    He kisses you again, and again, hoisting you up into his arms when his back starts to hurt from bending down to reach your height. Nathan sets you on the kitchen counter, finally pulling away from you- and he begins to sob.
    However afraid he was to fully experience the love you had for him- the fear of losing you without showing you his love had triumphed it all. You hold him close as he sobs into your shirt, wrapping him in your love. You donât know what started this. What set him on this path when yesterday was spent the same as any other day for the two of you- dancing around each other. Leaving the ties blurry. Leaving your love unclear, choosing not to tread through the rapid waters just yet. -but what did that matter anyway, when he had kissed you with such intense emotion? Youâre concerned for him. Youâre worried for him. You love him. You love him. You love him. Nathan wants to bury his mind so deep within your thoughts, like a warm blanket that kept all of his self-made fears of intimacy at bay. That made them disappear.
    Nathan doesnât want to show you what he had seen. What someone had made him see. He doesnât want you to experience the fear, the pain. Despite all of his confusion, his pain, what he did know was that he was never going to let that happen. He didnât care what timeline he had to tear apart, what plan for the future he had to ruin. He had lost so much in life, but he wasnât going to lose you. Not again. Not ever.
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So NSFW won on the poll option, but I decided to make both a sfw and nsfw versions :) I'm posting this one first since I can't wait, but I feel like I should apologize since technically I've posting this fic three times now and then there will be a fourth. Sorry for the repetition Ya'll!
The Remy fic is still coming, but I just couldn't stop writing this lol. Also, there's a few callbacks to the previous cable fic so I'd recommend you read/reread that one before starting this one :)
TWs: Jealousy, creepy men, we choose the bear and the bear is Cable. Slight miscommunication, but healthy talks happen. Reader kinda goes into an anxiety spiral for a minute there. Could probably be read as gender neutral bc no prounouns mentioned.
    The bar is busier tonight than youâve ever seen it. Itâs humid, stuffy, and overly loud with all the warm bodies packed into the small space. Youâve never been one for crowds, but you know for a fact that Cable is certainly not a people person.
    The two of you had been crammed into a corner booth for about an hour and a half, originally having come to the bar to meet a contact that never ended up showing. Normally, the two of you would have gone home by now. It was your idea to stay and get something to eat, wanting to at least make some good with the newfound downtime.Â
    You were comforted by the feeling of Cableâs keen gaze keeping an eye on you as you wove through the crowd, finding your way to the bar. You hold back a smile as you sit down, ordering some drinks for the two of you as you wait on the food. Eventually, you glance back at Cable and find him still staring at you, making eye contact as you send him a smile. Youâre not surprised, but you raise a playful eyebrow at him. Cable, ever the protective grump, rolls his eyes at you in response, but you still spot the small smile he gives you when you send him a wink.
    âThat beer for me, Beautiful?â The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you donât even think heâs talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. Heâs sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he canât quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cableâs beer closer.
    âLast time I checked it wasnât.â You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.
    âOh c'mon, donât play hard to get. Iâm chill!â You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.
    âSure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.â You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that heâd at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't.Â
    âWhat Husband?â The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. Itâs not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the manâs wrist caught in Cableâs literal iron-clad grip.Â
    âThis Husband.â Cable grunts.Â
    All of the blood drains from the strangerâs face in an instant, but it doesnât take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cableâs grip, but Cableâs arm doesnât move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cableâs strength many times, but this⌠well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.
    âWhatâs your problem, man?â The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and was getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cableâs shoulder a hard pat as you desperately try to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable is ignoring the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.
    â -sâ an ugly bitch, anyway.â The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he shouldâve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. Theres a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide youâve definitely stayed past your welcome.
    âOhhkay. Yeah, letâs go.â You tug on Cable's arm, practically dragging him away at first. You werenât worried about the drunk, that guy sure as hell wasnât getting up any time soon. To be honest, you were more concerned with the fact that you could never meet someone in this bar discreetly ever again. Yay.Â
    The drive back to todayâs apartment is silent, and youâre thinking too much about Cable, honestly. Heâs not necessarily talkative himself, arms crossed in the passenger seat as he looks out the window. You send a nervous glance his way. You had called him your husband, and although it felt right in the moment as you tried to get another man off your back, you didnât think that Cable would actually hear you. And boy, did he hear you. Sure, he responded⌠like he did. The memory of it almost makes your stomach flutter. Part of you wants to be absolutely delusional and just revel in the fact that he inadvertently called himself your husband, but what if he felt forced into it? What if he only said that so that you wouldnât be caught in a lie? When you think about it, that had to be it. I mean, he was being overprotective in the first place, but he was just trying to defend you from unwanted attention. God- you just wish you could pull your thoughts together. Pick up the confusion and chuck it out the door.
    You drive on autopilot, and before you know it, youâre already âhomeâ. Nathan splits off from you, going to change probably. The fact that he hasnât really looked at you yet makes you even more anxious, but to be honest, you probably wouldnât have noticed if he had. He wasnât usually affectionate when he was high-strung, and you knew that, but still. You can't seem to let it go. Youâre curled up on the couch when Nathan joins you, fresh out of the shower and already in casual clothes. He gives you a little space as he sits, like he doesnât want to startle you. Heâs still as stoic as ever, but at least he doesnât look angry. Youâre itching to say something, to speak, and he can tell.Â
    Nathan could feel your anxiety since the car, and no matter how badly he wanted to know why, he could tell that you needed a moment to get it out. He crosses his arms with a sigh. He didnât consider himself a jealous man, but when that idiot at the bar started talking to you he just couldnât stand it. He knows he blew your cover big time with that punch, but there would always be another crusty bar to go to. In all honesty, he was more concerned with your change in attitude. You receded into yourself in-between the bar and the car, and he didnât want to know if he was the reason why. He wonders if he overstepped.
    âSorry, by the way.â You finally manage to say. Nathan cocks an eyebrow at you.
    âFor what?â He asks. You look away nervously, fiddling with your fingers.
    âFor when I called you my husband back there. I know weâre certainty not⌠well, I was just scrambling and needed something concrete- and calling you my boyfriend felt weird so-âÂ
    âTake a breath.â Youâre surprised as he cuts you off, feeling a little stupid as you try to collect yourself. There was so much you had been through, so much that you had learned how to handle, but this?? Why was it so hard to communicate feelings like this when you normally can communicate with him so easily on the battlefield? He was probably tired of your rambling.
    âYou donât have to explain yourself to me. I get it. We wouldnât have even had a problem if the guy had taken a hint.â Nathan says, pissed off at the thought of the guy putting his hands on you still. You glance at him, a confused look on your face as you lean back on the couch.
    âSoâŚ?â
    âSo, donât apologize. Itâs not like I actuallyâŚâ Nathan stops for a moment, and your heart skips a beat. âI didnât mind itâ He finishes.
    âOh?... Oh.â You say, slightly taken aback. Nathan is flushed red, ears included, staring straight ahead as he avoids looking at you.
    âSo weâre okay, right?â You ask.
    âOf course we are,â Nate responds immediately, without even thinking. He looks over at you finally, still blushing a little. You relax at that, having a bit of deja vu. You realize that one of you had moved closer during the conversation, and your sides were pressing together. Nathanâs hair is messy, the gell having washed out during his shower. You always liked how fluffy it was like this, and to be honest, you can't help but reach up and run a hand through his hair. He huffs at the action, a ghost of a smile on his face as he rolls his eyes at you, but he doesnât stop you from doing it. Heâs a bit too tall for you to comfortably reach, even sitting down. Your arm is getting a bit tired, but you donât want to ruin a sweet moment like this one. After a minute of you debating what to do, Nathan sighs and pulls you into his lap.Â
    âYou think too much.â He says, closing his eyes. He brings one of your hands back up to his hair, encouraging you to keep going. You hadnât expected the action, almost startled by it. Sure, it wasn't like you had never touched him before, but the two of you⌠you were still getting the hang of things. New changes, familiar feelings. It felt good to be this close to him, and for once you know that you donât have to worry about your time together being cut short.
    âDoes it bother you?â You ask quietly. âWhen I think too much?â Nathan hums, hands resting on your waist.
    â...No. You think more than anyone Iâve ever met. Your mind is always running about something or other. Really, Iâd be more concerned if you werenât thinking.â You notice a slight change in his demeanor during his last sentence, but you donât comment on it. Instead, you find yourself admiring his face. Your hands shift down from his hair, rubbing your thumbs under his eyes, across his cheekbones. Your eyes drift down to his lips, and you canât help but lean in and kiss him. Heâs surprised for a moment, eyes flickering open and then shut as he cups the nape of your neck and kisses you back. You sigh into him, moving to straddle his legs as his left arm tugs you closer to him by your waist. The cold metal chills you through the fabric of your shirt, his thumb idly rubbing against you.Â
    Both of you are out of breath when you separate, caught up in the unbreakable connection between the two of you. You look into his pretty brown eyes, and you want to say it. You want to say those little words so badly. But you know you shouldnât. There was something about saying it that made everything a little too real, that made everything seem a bit too different. You want to say it, but you don't. You know he knows. You know- you hope he feels the same. Itâs all you could ever hope.
    âOf course I do,â Nathan whispers, a look so similar to heartbreak on his face. Your eyes widen, once again not realizing his intrusion into your thoughts. Then again, maybe you were just so used to him lingering in the back of your mind that you didnât notice anymore. You kiss him again. This one is slower, more intimate, more sensual, and he returns it in the same manner. Youâre feeling a little sappy, but content just the same. Nathan finds himself in a similar well of emotions, hoping that next time he won't have to remind you for you to know itâs true.
Guys ???help??? The Cable thing is ACTUALLY starting to become a problem đ
Seriously I just CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT HIM????
Domestic cable. Cable in pajamas. Doing skincare with your husband Cable, where he's got one of those green face masks on with a fuzzy pink headband to keep the hair out of his face. He doesn't quite understand it but quality time is his love language so he'll put up with it as long as you ask him to.
Clingy Cable who follows you everywhere around the house. Cable who will sometimes just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder when you're about to run into something dangerous or do something stupid. It doesn't matter how heavy you are, if you didn't want him to pick you up you shouldn't have been stupid!!
Cable who makes breakfast for you every morning. Who you never have to ask to run to the store or do chores because he's already done them. Cable. Just cable. Dear lord. It's brainrot at this point.
Cable/Fem!Reader- fic snippet
Here's a quick snippet of the jealousy fic for Cable that I just word vomited onto paper. Why you may ask? Because I have a problem and I need to spread the addiction AHGGG
TWs: Creepy drunk men. We choose the bear and the bear is Cable.
âThat beer for me, Beautiful?â The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you donât even think heâs talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. Heâs sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he canât quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cableâs beer closer.
    âLast time I checked it wasnât.â You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.
    âOh c'mon, donât play hard to get. Iâm chill!â You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.
    âSure you are. But believe me, my boyfriend is not.â You tell him. The stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where Cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that heâd at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't.Â
    âWhat boyfriend?â The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. Itâs not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the manâs wrist caught in Cableâs literal iron-clad grip.Â