ᯓ pairing scott summers x power!manipulator!reader

ᯓ summary You’ve always carried the burden of other people’s powers—feeling them, knowing them, bending them. But with Scott Summers, the boy afraid to look at the world, it’s different. Slowly, you learn to trust each other. Until one night, he finally lets go.

ᯓ genre fluff • slow-burn romance • emotional vulnerability •comfort

ᯓ warning emotional vulnerability • fear of hurting others • self-doubt • softness that might make you cry

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The first time you met Scott Summers, you felt it—the hum of his power, tightly coiled like a bowstring stretched too far. It vibrated through your nerves like a storm you couldn’t see but always sensed. And he, in turn, looked at you like you were something radioactive.

It was Logan who introduced you. Sort of.

“She’s the one I told you about,” he muttered, jerking a thumb in your direction. “The power regulator.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not really the term I’d use.”

Scott stood stiffly, arms crossed, red visor gleaming in the hallway light.

He didn’t offer a handshake.

You didn’t need one.

You already felt him—his power, his fear. You could feel every flicker of control he gripped with white knuckles.

So you just smiled. “I’m not gonna mess with your powers unless you ask. Or try to kill me.”

His lips curved a bit into a smirk, before fading. “That’s… reassuring.”

The sarcasm was dry, but the anxiety under it? That was real.

⸻

You didn’t mean to fall for him.

But how could you not?

Scott was cautious, careful with everything—his words, his movements, even the way he handed you a coffee mug like it might break if he touched it wrong. And yet he watched you when you weren’t looking. Watched the way your powers glimmered at your fingertips, how you gently dialed them down when kids passed by, how you always asked before getting close to anyone. Mutants like you didn’t get to be careless.

One evening, after a long training session, you were sitting on the front steps of the mansion, letting your skin cool in the breeze. He approached slowly, like he always did.

“Can I sit?”

You tilted your head. “Do you need to ask?”

“Probably not. But I’m trying not to be a dick.”

That made you laugh.

He sat beside you, hands on his knees, silence stretching between you like thread.

“I heard what happened with Rogue today,” he finally said.

You winced. “Yeah. She panicked mid-sparring, lost control. I had to shut her power down hard.”

“She okay?”

“She’s more worried about me.” You flexed your fingers. “It… costs me, sometimes.”

Scott didn’t speak right away. You could feel the pressure building behind his visor. You always could. His power was so raw, so massive, you had to keep a buffer around him without even meaning to. You’d never told him.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said quietly.

You turned toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He hesitated. “You’re not afraid. Of anyone. You could crush us all if you wanted, and instead you ask before you touch someone.”

There was a pause.

“I’m always afraid I’ll hurt someone,” he added, voice quieter. “You… you make people feel safe.”

That was the moment you knew. Not just that he liked you—but that he respected you. Trusted you.

And it terrified him.

⸻

Weeks passed. You circled each other like stars in each other’s orbit. Quiet smiles. Close calls in training. Movie nights where his arm would brush yours and then jerk back like he touched fire.

You never pushed.

But it was getting harder not to.

And then one night, after dinner, Logan cornered him in the hallway.

“You gonna ask her out before we all die of secondhand sexual tension?”

Scott choked. “Logan—what the hell—”

“I’m just saying. You like her. She likes you. You’re both annoyingly subtle about it. Stop being a cowardly dick.”

Scott glared, but he looked shaken. “You don’t get it. I can’t. If I lose control—”

“She can shut you down with a flick of her wrist. If there’s one person in the world you can be unarmed around—it’s her.”

⸻

That night, Scott knocked on your door.

You were lounging in sweats, reading with music low in the background.

“Come in.” Your voice rang out softly.

Scott turned the handle on your door, pushing it open slightly. Standing in the open doorway he glances around your room, “Scott?” you said, blinking in surprise.

He looked… nervous. Standing straight up, hands linked behind his back.

“I was wondering if—if you’d like to get dinner sometime. Outside the mansion. As a date.”

The pause between his words was sharp and awkward. Your heart warmed anyway.

You smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

⸻

The date turned into three.

Then five.

Then kisses in dark hallways.

Always with the goggles on.

Always with the wall between you.

Until one evening, curled together in your room, his head resting against your chest, you whispered into his hair:

“You know I can control your powers, right?”

He tensed immediately. “What?”

“I didn’t want to tell you early on,” you said softly, “because I didn’t want you to think I was manipulating you. But I’ve been keeping a light grip on them since we met.”

He pulled back, eyes behind red glass. “You’ve been… dampening me?”

“No. Just watching. In case something slipped. It never did.” You reached for his hand. “But I want you to know you don’t have to be afraid around me. Not ever.”

His breath hitched.

“I can’t take them off.”

“You can. If I’m touching you, your powers are neutral. That’s how I work.”

“I haven’t seen anything without red in over a decade.”

“I know.” You held his face gently, your palms warm against his skin. “So maybe let me take them off. Just for a second. If it gets too much, I’ll stop it instantly.”

He hesitated.

“Do you want me to?” you whispered.

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Then, softly: “Yes. But I’m scared.”

“I’ll be right here.”

You slid your fingers to one hand under the strap of his visor.

And slowly, you lifted it away.

His eyes stayed shut.

You felt the pulse of power behind his eyelids, like a thunderstorm pressing against the clouds.

But it didn’t break.

“Open them when you’re ready,” you said.

A beat. Two.

Then—he did.

Blue. Clear. Beautiful.

You smiled, hand tightening on his arm.

He stared at you in shock. “I’m not—”

“You’re not hurting anyone,” you said, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. “You’re okay.”

He blinked once, then again letting his tears fall, and let out a trembling laugh that sounded like a dam cracking open.

Then his arms were around you, pulling you tight, burying his face in your neck as if the world had dropped its weight from his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You kissed the top of his head and held him close.

You didn’t need your powers to feel the way his heartbeat finally slowed under your touch.

For the first time in years, Scott Summers felt unarmed—and safe.

Bob (video)

It was a typical night in—the lights dimmed, popcorn already half-eaten, and Bob lounging beside you on the couch in his usual hoodie and sweatpants. The movie hadn’t even started yet, and the snack run had been more chaotic than productive (he insisted on gummy worms and kettle corn, a combo you’d never understand).

You smirked to yourself, grabbing your phone and turning on the camera. This was too perfect.

“Let’s have a movie night,” you said, casually recording, “I’m here with my current boyfriend.”

You slowly panned the camera over to Bob.

He turned so slowly to face you, wide-eyed and suspicious, like you just confessed to treason.

You paused mid-sentence, seeing him on the screen staring at you—deadpan and silently judging. That’s when both of you cracked up.

“What did you say?” Bob laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I said,” you replied, straightening your face and voice, “I’m here with my current boyfriend.”

Without missing a beat, Bob turned back to the phone and playfully smacked it out of your hand.

“Hey!” you yelled, still laughing as you reached for your phone.

Bob stood up with a dramatic little stretch like he was preparing to make a speech.

You raised your hand, showing off your very bare ring finger. “You’re my current boyfriend. Do you see a ring on his finger? No. Nothing’s forever.”

Bob blinked, taken aback. “Nothing’s forever?” he echoed, brows raising.

“This isn’t forever,” you said with exaggerated conviction, “everything is temporary. I’m not locked in for nothing.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Bob narrowed his eyes slightly—mischief twinkling behind them.

“You may not have a ring right now,” he said slowly… then dropped to one knee in front of you.

Your eyes widened in panic. “Bob—No, get up!”

The video cut off right as you both burst out laughing again, his goofy grin still plastered on his face.

Just another night of chaos, candy, and questionable relationship status.

Sentry (video)

The camera’s rolling. You’re cozy in bed, sitting up with the blanket pulled halfway over your legs, Sentry lounging next to you—glowing just a little less golden than usual, hair slightly tousled.

You smile at the lens. “So we just finished watching a movie. It was cute, emotional, a little tragic—kinda like my current boyfriend over here.”

You gesture toward him, casually, like it’s no big deal.

Robert freezes. Blinks once. Twice.

“Nope,” he mutters, tossing the blanket off. “I’m not doing all that.”

You snort. “Doing what?”

But he’s already out of bed, shaking his head like a man betrayed. He walks off camera, barefoot and brooding.

The video jumps to a dramatic shot of him standing alone on the balcony, arms crossed, staring off into the night like a Shakespearean prince.

No words. Just wind, stars… and “heartbreak”.

Void (video)

The phone was already recording, propped up on the counter, catching the mundane warmth of the kitchen light. Dishes clinked in the background. You stood next to him—Void, tall and still, his presence like a shadow that never quite settled.

With a cheerful smile, you looked into the camera.

“Hey guys, so me and my current boyfriend here are gonna be cleaning the kitchen up a bit—putting away the dishes.”

Void didn’t say anything. Didn’t even move. He just slowly—very slowly—turned his head to look at you. His plain white, piercing eyes blinked once.

You glanced up at him, still smiling, tilting your head playfully. “What?”

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he sighed—long, deep, exhausted in that way only he could be. Then, without a sound, he reached forward and calmly pressed the phone screen… turning off the video.

Still shaking his head as he walked away.

And yet, somehow, that was his version of affection.

Void-style domestic content: one and done.

Scott (video)

The car was parked under the soft glow of the setting sun, fast food bags in the backseat and a half-eaten burger in Scott’s hand. You opened your front camera, lip gloss perfect, mischief practically radiating off of you.

“Hey guys,” you said into the phone with a grin, “me and my current boyfriend are gonna do Never Have I Ever—”

Scott paused mid-chew, eyebrows twitching behind those signature red lenses.

Then dead serious: “Your current boyfriend?”

You burst out laughing as he leaned slightly toward the camera, expression pure offended boyfriend.

“Are you planning on having another one in the future?” he asked, all faux-seriousness and wounded pride.

Trying to keep a straight face, you pushed forward like you hadn’t just been called out. “We’re gonna play Never Have I Ever.”

Scott wasn’t done. He blinked behind his visor. “Your current boyfriend,” he repeated, shaking his head like he just discovered betrayal. “Wow. Never have I ever been so fucking offended. There you go.”

You slid to the side of the camera, full-body laughing, your hand over your mouth. After a beat, you came back into frame and wiped a tear away.

“All right, you start.”

Scott leaned back in his seat, folding his arms like a man scorned. “No. I don’t want to,” he said, pouting. “You go first. You hurt my feelings.”

You tried to stay serious, but the laugh escaped again. And honestly, how did you end up with the leader of the X-Men acting like a dramatic prom date in your passenger seat?

Who knows—but it made for one hell of a TikTok

Bucky (video)

You had the camera propped just right—soft lighting, perfect angle, your outfit styled head to toe. Date night deserved documentation. And, as usual, your very cooperative (and slightly over-it) boyfriend was about to be roped in. Again.

“Jamie, come here and pose with me,” you called sweetly.

From the hallway, Bucky strolled in—already dressed to the nines—stepping behind you and placing his hands gently on your waist like he’d done this a dozen times before. Because… he had.

You smiled at the camera. “This is my current boyfriend, Bucky.”

Without missing a beat, Bucky slowly removed his hands from your waist, stepped in front of you, and turned to the camera with a smirk that could melt vibranium.

“Currently? We’ll see how the future holds up,” he said dramatically, sliding into spotlight mode. “But I think it’s lookin’ bright.” He gave a mock laugh—pure mischief—then struck a casual pose. “Right now I’m just wearing this Tom Ford suit,” he added, brushing invisible lint off his shoulder. “And this Omega Seamaster,” he flashed the wristwatch you got him, “courtesy of the lady behind me.”

You stood in the background blinking, then cracked up. “You are so—just stop, James,” you laughed.

“What?” he said, only half-faking confusion.

“It was a prank! I said ‘this is my current boyfriend Bucky,’ you were supposed to act all annoyed and be like—” you put on a fake grumpy voice, “‘Current boyfriend? What do you mean current?’ Like, get all jealous or whatever. You didn’t even play into it!”

Bucky shrugged coolly. “Nah. ’Cause I’m not, uh…”

“Toxic?” you offered with a smirk.

He gave a lazy grin. “Insecure.”

You snorted, stepping up beside him and resting your head against his arm.

No arguments there—just a very secure man, a very lucky girlfriend, and one very well-dressed “current” boyfriend who clearly plans to be anything but temporary.

John (video)

The kitchen was a mess of ingredients—ground beef, buns, pickles, and a whole pile of seasoning waiting to be put to good use. You had your phone propped up, camera already rolling, when John glanced over at you, suspicious as ever.

“I ain’t making no other vlog,” he said, shaking his head like he was so over the social media life.

“Oh, we’re making a vlog,” you replied with a sly grin, eyes flicking up at him before facing the camera again. “Today, me and my current boyfriend will be making smash burgers—”

John tilted his head so slowly, the confusion practically radiated off him. He just… stared. Silently. Processing. Trying to figure out if he heard that right.

A solid five seconds of silence passed.

You turned to him, smirking. “What do you think of that?”

John raised an eyebrow, the sass switch officially flipped. “Me and my girlfriend at the moment,” he said, eyes narrowed with mock offense, “are definitely making smash burgers tonight.”

He gave you a look right after “girlfriend at the moment” like two can play this game.

You stared back, mouth twitching. Neither of you broke for a second—until the laughter exploded out of both of you at the same time, nearly doubling over as you wheezed in the middle of the kitchen.

Somewhere in the background, a pan started to sizzle. The burgers would have to wait—because now you were both laughing too hard to function.

TikTok gold. Team dinner chaos. Just another night with your “current” man.

Logan (video)

The fire crackled low in the woodstove, casting soft golden light across the cabin walls. You were curled up on the couch, laying against Logan’s chest, his arms heavy around you in that comforting, protective way only he could manage.

With a quiet smirk, you reached for your phone, hit record, and spoke softly into the camera.

“Hey guys, me and my current boyfriend just got back from a date and walk.”

Logan barely moved, but you felt the deep rumble of his voice through his chest.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “me and my current girlfriend are about to watch a show.”

There was a pause—just long enough for the words to settle. You slowly lifted your head and glanced up at him, meeting his eyes with a raised brow.

You didn’t say a word. Just stared.

He looked right back at you, completely unfazed, and added with a little smirk:

“Isn’t that right, bub?”

You couldn’t hold it—your giggles bubbled up as you buried your face in his chest, and he chuckled lowly, brushing a hand over your back.

scott summers x reader / angst / comfort ending / thoughts of being cheated on / jealousy