#xmale!reader

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You took a long sip from the drink in your hand before gently slamming it onto the table with a satisfied sigh. You don’t usually drink very often, but you and Illinois decided you were gonna celebrate this one. It wasn’t every day you solve an unsolvable riddle and finally find the lost emerald of the Angel Islands. The same one adventurers had been searching for, for decades.

The alcohol tingled in your throat and you could feel a warm sensation flow through your body. You relaxed back into your chair, body aching from dodging all those traps and getting covered in nicks and bruises. In fact, you and Illinois probably looked like ghosts with all the dust and grime covering your bodies along with your slightly tattered clothing. You both hadn’t bothered showering in all the excitement, hygiene could wait. Right now you just wanted to soak in a job well done.

“Can I see it?” You ask him. He pulls the emerald out of his bag, and you see the lights of the pub reflect off its smooth green surface. He tries to dust it off with his sleeve, but all he accomplishes is moving some of the dirt around, so he holds it out to you. You reach out a hand to take it, and he gently places it into your palm, fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

You hold it up to the light and spin it gently, even with the dust covering it you could see the bright green color of the emerald and all the perfectly cut geometric shapes reflecting inside of it. “I think this is one of the prettiest things I’ve ever held.” You say in awe.

“Well, that’s hurtful seeing as though you’ve held onto me at least once~,” Illinois speaks in a relaxed but confident tone. You look up at him, he was holding his chin in his hand while resting his elbow on the table. He was sitting across the table from you and was looking right into your eyes. You don’t know if it was the adrenaline of finding the treasure, the dim lighting of the pub, or the booze, but he just looks so, so serene. And, well, pretty. Really pretty. You know he flirts with anyone and everyone as a joke, but you can’t help but have your heart skip a beat whenever he looks at you with those dark brown eyes of his. They always had a mischievous glint to them, as if they were always hiding something, just out of reach.

“Ha. Ha- I meant like an object, I don’t think I’ve ever held anything so valuable.” You respond sarcastically. He smirks.

“The gems pretty an all, but I’d rather look at you any day.” There’s the usual flirt. “You’re more valuable than any fancy rock.” That- that one surprised you. Your eyes widened. For some reason, that line felt different than his usual flirts. It sounded more personal. Almost…genuine. You searched his eyes for some sort of sign that he was joking, but he just looked back at you. His expression, almost dreamy.

“How much did you have to drink again, Illy?” You ask, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

"I might have had a few shots." He responds chuckling. “But I’m just being honest! You don’t give yourself enough credit. I never would have found that emerald without you. Hell, I’ve been trying to solve that riddle for years!” Your cheeks are probably red now. Illinois. THE Illinois was complimenting, YOU. The cocky bastard who calls himself pretty without a second thought was praising your riddle-solving ability?! You hid your flustered face as you took another sip from your glass. You had to take him out for drinks more often.

A group of a few performers started playing some music on the small stage they had in the pub, and you could see a few people get up and start dancing. Most of them were couples holding hands swaying to the smooth tones being played throughout the pub. You smiled at the scene, it seemed like they were having fun. Illinois noticed your expression and a grin started to grow on his face. You could hear his chair slide out as he got up and made his way over to you. 

He bowed slightly, and extended his hand out to you, “May I have this dance, partner~” You can't help but snort at his cheesiness, but when he didn’t back down your eyes widened.

“Are you kidding? Illinois I can’t dance!” You say incredulously. Instead of taking his hand, you reach to put the emerald back in Illinois's bag, but before you can pull your hand away again, Illinois gently grabs your wrist. 

“I didn’t ask if you were any good. I asked if you wanted to dance, with me.” The last part came out way softer than you’ve ever heard him speak. It made your heart skip a beat, and, what were you going to do? Say no to the hot Indiana Jones rip-off that managed to steal your heart with his rugged charms and southern accent? You weren’t an idiot! You hesitantly place your hand in his outstretched one, and he smirks.

“Do you even know how to dance?” You ask, still a bit unsure. He scoffs, and puts on a mock offended expression.

“Do I know how to dance?” He mimics is a bad impression of your voice. Now it’s your turn to look offended. “How about you just follow me and find out~” He winks at you before gently leading you to the dance floor. Oh gods you weren’t going to survive this.

He turns to face you and puts your hand on his shoulder. He puts his own hand on your waist and grabs your other hand with his free one. “Just follow my steps darlin’, I know you're a genius but just, don’t think too hard, ok? Just feel the rhythm of the music.” You take a deep breath and try to relax, you look down and follow his footsteps as best as you can, only stepping on his feet once or twice. “See your-  ow-  You’re doing great handsome/beautiful-  agh-” 

“I’m sorry! I told you I’m not good-!” You apologize. He just smiles and laughs.

“You’re doing fine darlin’, I’ve been through way worse. We’ve both been through worse just today, actually.” You smile and laugh as well.

“Yea, I guess you’re right.” You both start to get into a comfortable rhythm, stepping and swaying to the music. You got lost in the feeling of the moment, the atmosphere felt almost magical. You forgot all about your aching body and all the dirt covering you both from head to toe, you were just fully captivated by this moment.

That was until Illinois got an idea, and shot you a smirk. Oh no, what was he planning? Just as the music ended on its last note, and before you even knew what was really happening, Illinois moved his hand across your back, spinning you slightly and pulling you into a dip. You stare into his eyes, his face only a few inches from yours. You were both panting slightly, and your eyes were locked on each other. Illinois slowly starts to lean in a little closer...

...before he quickly plants a small kiss on your nose. Surprised and incredibly flustered you push yourself out of his arms. He starts laughing so hard that you can see tears forming in the corner of his eyes. You try to hide your own smile at the ridiculousness of this whole situation, and instead start to scold him.

“What was that!? I swear, if you do that again I will throw you out the window you- what are you doing?" He stops laughing to turning his head towards the window. Looking outside, you could see the pub was on the side of a cliff.

"Checking how high the drop is to see if it's worth it~" Your face was enough to make him erupt into laughter again. You just sigh, crossing your arms.

Finally, his fit of laughter stops. He walks up to you, putting both his hands on your shoulders. “Aw come on sweetheart, I’m just teasing. You know I love you.” You blink, taken aback by his words, did he really just say that? He couldn’t be drunk already, you were watching him, he only had like 2 shots of whiskey. So where was this coming from? You decided not to question it, and instead see if he was really being genuine, or just messing with you again. Oh, gods above you hoped this wasn’t a joke. 

“Oh really, you love me? Prove it.” Wow ok, I guess his confidence was starting to rub off on you. His smirk grows into a full, genuine smile. He gently takes your hand again, and when you squeeze it in affirmation, he dips you again, and this time, he doesn’t miss.

  Mason scoffed, shaking his head, and a grin slid onto his face. “It was really easy, actually. I get more money.”

  A bitter taste filled your mouth as Mason punched your across the face. You glared at him, struggling with your bindings. “Wait until I get my hands on you, you son--”

  “(Y/n), stop,” Natasha scolded. Her chair was pressed against the back of yours. General Pyle’s was to your side. You felt Natasha slide something sharp into your hand, and you forced yourself to keep a straight face as it pricked your palm. “Clearly we’ve underestimated you, Mason.”

  Mason scoffed. “Of course you did. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He grabbed a dining coat from one of the guards he was near. “I must go find those jewels again. Simon and Jacobson will keep you company until you’re ready to spill.”

  You rolled your eyes. “Like that’s gonna happen.”   Mason slipped on the coat. You assumed it was for when he would have to leave later; he could just walk through the door if he’d wanted to. Once he was gone, the door shut. The bald bodyguard popped his knuckles as he stepped toward you. Of course you were the first to get all beaten up.

  You grunted as he took a jab at your stomach. “Hey, Tasha,” you said.

  “What?”   You gripped tightly onto the sharp object, then smirked. “I always wanted to give Mason the nickname mole.” As soon as you finished your words, you lept up and attacked the man in front of you. Natasha stood up, roundhouse kicking the second man.

  “You’re horrible, you know that?”

  Once the man was unconscious, you adjusted your bowtie and nodded to General Pyle. Natasha cut his ropes. He stood up and dusted his pants. You replied, “I know. But it makes sense. Plus, he says he likes staying up at night and avoiding getting tan. Mole? It’s perfect.”   “I’ll tell Director Fury about your input. Mason’s going to end up on the most wanted list sometime soon. Why not give him an annoying nickname that brings him in so he can correct it?”

  “My point exactly.” You searched the bald man until you found a Glock 43 in his suit jacket. “You might want to find your guy’s--”

  “Got it.” Natasha cocked the gun and looked at you. “We everything we need, so let’s go.” Right, she had the jewels.

  You ran into no trouble on the way out. Mason didn’t bother guarding the doors. Soon you were back up the tunnel and into the ballroom. Once there, you left the museum.

  The evacuation cars were not too far away. General Pyle went in the first one, and you and Natasha were in the second one.

  You climbed into your seat and shut the door, sighing loudly. Looking over at Natasha, you smiled. “We did good today, Tasha.”

  She nodded, handing you the bag of jewels. “Good job, (N/n). We make a good team.”

  “Not as good as you and Agent Barton, I’ll admit.” You pulled off your jacket as soon as the car rolled forward. “But yes, we’re amazing.”  You looked out the window, and not even a second later you felt something snake into your left hand. When you glanced down at it, you noticed Natasha’s small hand in yours. She stared out her window, and you ran your thumb over her knuckles. Natasha squeezed a little bit.

  This had not been your brightest day… Your brightest moment. You only realized it was a bad idea to walk home through the shortcut alley (you were fired from your night job, so it was dark out) when you strode halfway through and felt someone watching you.

  You slowly spun around, but did not see a living thing in sight. Shrugging, your feet moved forward. You listened to your falling footsteps, soon noticing they weren’t the only pair of feet you could hear. Someone else was in the alley.

  You picked up the pace with noticeable speed. The other person following you was right on your tail as you lashed out into a full sprint. You were not fast enough. Something was thrown over your head, and you stumbled onto the ground.

  An audible groan escaped your lips as you struggled to push yourself off the ground. Something heavy pushed against your back, and two hands snatched up your wrists, pulling them back and tying them up with a plastic zip tie—which you knew because this had not been the first time you wore something like that.

  “Let me go!” you yelled, trying to shake the person off your back. You were strong, but they would not dare lose the fight. “I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

  You thought you were going to be met by a slap or a blow in the rear of your head, but you heard nothing but silence and a familiar sound. Click. They had a gun, and it was against your head. “Get on your feet. Now.” It was a woman by the sound of the voice, but that did not persuade you to not follow her orders.

  You vaulting onto your feet only used a second. Then you were being pushed down the alley way. How no one saw you was a miracle.

  The woman pushed her hand against your shoulder. “Keep walking.” There had been something familiar about this woman. Was it her voice? Her touch? Her techniques to take you down? You listed all the women who would have any type of grudge against you, and that was not many. There was your boss, but she just fired you from your job. To add to that, the woman behind you did not sound like Ms. Frater at all.

  “Who are you?” you asked, only to be responded to by a slap in the neck. “Ow!”

  “Just keep quiet,” the unknown woman goaded. “We’ll be there soon.” Where was “there”? You yearned to inquire, but it was best to stay silent. You wanted to reserve slap-free for the rest of the time you were with this woman, but you could not think of how long it was going to be.

  Several minutes had passed before she demanded that you be careful when climbing up the steps. One by one, you had finally made it to the top. By the way she said, “Be careful, (Y/n),” you deducted that she was someone you knew—someone who could possibly be close to you.

   After a moment more of walking, you both stopped. The sound of rattling keys snatched your attention. Either you were in a hotel room or an actual home. It was more likely a home; there would have been someone who saw you and called something out if it was in a public area. You listened to the door creak, and a familiar scent of cologne filled your nostrils. You were at your apartment.

  “Sit down.” A hand placed itself on your shoulder, and you collapsed onto your leather couch. You were in your living room, which was behind the kitchen. The woman knew her way around, which meant she had been there before.

  “Look, do I know you?” you said, struggling with your bindings. “What is this about? Did I do something to offend you? If I did, I probably didn’t mean it.”

  “Relax, big guy,” the woman chuckled, and then sound of a switch blade opening popped into your ears. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you or anything.”

  A sudden rush hurtled through you as you grasped a moment to the words the woman spoke. Everything clicked—her voice, her laugh, her ability to pin you down without barely trying (you had the feeling she was not as strong as you)… You knew who it was.

  Your hands were free after the plastic zip tie was cut, and you pulled off your blindfold. You were met a woman with blonde hair, Caucasian, and green eyes. “Raven,” you breathed, running a hand through your short hair. “You seriously scared the living daylights out of me.”

  Mystique mustered up a weak smile, her hands moving onto her lap. “Sorry. I needed to make sure I didn’t draw too much attention.”

  “Oh, so kidnapping me definitely doesn’t count as attention? Hmm.” Both of you laughed, but it was short live as a long silence drew. “What’s wrong?” She had to have done something like this if it was for an important reason, correct?

  Raven sighed, her eyes full of sadness and fear. “I need somewhere to stay, and this is all I could think of.”

  “What about the institute? Charles? Erik?” She shook her head and looked away in shame. “Why not?”

  Her voice cracked as she spoke again. “I did something. Something really bad, and now I know they aren’t going to be able to help me. I left them behind in my past life, but now I want to start something new. (Y/n), I don’t want to be a monster like I was known for. I don’t want anything to do with that.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek, and a peculiar feeling overcame your stomach. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling as close as possible. Her silent tears turned into sobbing soon enough. Whatever happened must have been real bad, you thought. It did not matter to you.

  “Raven, hey,”—you pulled away from her—“Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe here. You can trust me.”

   She nodded, rubbing hot tears away from her eyes. Mascara dripped down her face like runny paint on a wall. “I know that.”

  “And you can stay here for as long as you need to. Heck, we can move to a different city—a different country, if you want,” you said, hands on her arms. “I can’t promise we’re going to be safe, but we can try. You dig that?”

  She nodded again, wrapping her arms around you. “Thank you, (Y/n),” she whispered. You kissed the crown of her head, holding her close. “I owe you one.”

  “You owe me nothing.” You glanced down at her, smiling. “Just call it a favor.”