X-Men Preferences and Imagines

They have a nightmare

Logan Howlett:
You wake up to the sound of heavy breathing beside you, and as your eyes adjust to the dark, you see Logan thrashing in his sleep, his body tense as sweat beads on his forehead. His claws suddenly shoot out, tearing through the sheets, and you instinctively reach for him, placing a hand gently on his arm. "Logan, wake up," you whisper urgently, your voice steady despite the rapid thud of your heart. His eyes snap open, wild and unfocused, claws still extended. "It's just me," you say softly, slowly bringing his hand to your chest. "You're safe." His gaze locks onto yours, the familiar, steady presence slowly returning to his eyes as his claws retract. "I almost... I could've hurt you," he mutters, sitting up and running a hand through his hair, guilt heavy in his voice. You shift closer, wrapping your arms around him from behind. "You didn't. I'm right here." He leans into you, the tension slowly melting away as he breathes out, "I don't know what I'd do if—" You cut him off with a kiss on the back of his neck. "You won't. I trust you."

Scott Summers:
The room is eerily silent as you wake up to find Scott sitting upright beside you, his head cradled in his hands, the familiar ruby-quartz visor catching the faint moonlight. "Scott?" you murmur groggily, reaching out to touch his arm, but he flinches away. "I... I saw it again," he mutters, his voice thick with frustration and fear. "I hurt you." You sit up, rubbing your eyes, and move closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It was just a dream," you say softly, even though you've heard this before. "It wasn't real." He shakes his head, his fists clenching. "You don't get it. I can't control it. If I lose focus for one second... I don't want to hurt you." His voice cracks, and you can see the weight of his fear bearing down on him. "You won't," you whisper fiercely, sliding your arms around him. "I trust you. I know how careful you are with your power, and I'm not going anywhere." Scott takes a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. "I just don't want to lose you." You smile gently, resting your head on his shoulder. "You're not losing me, Summers."

Young Charles Xavier:
Charles jolts awake beside you, his breath coming out in short gasps, and you immediately sit up, watching him with concern. His eyes are wide, distant, as though he's still stuck in whatever nightmare had gripped him. "Charles?" you whisper, gently placing your hand on his arm. He doesn't respond at first, his mind clearly somewhere else, and you squeeze his arm a little harder. "Charles, it's okay. You're here with me." Slowly, his gaze shifts to yours, and you see the tension leave his body as he exhales shakily. "I saw everything," he mutters, his voice barely audible. "Everyone was gone. I couldn't stop it." You brush a hand through his hair, soothing the wild strands that had been disturbed by his fitful sleep. "But it didn't happen," you remind him gently. "You're safe. We're all safe." He swallows hard, his hand trembling as he reaches for yours. "I just... I fear losing you more than anything," he admits, and the vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. "I'm not going anywhere," you assure him softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. "Not without you."

Young Erik Lehnsherr:
Erik's scream rips through the night, and you jolt awake, your heart hammering in your chest. He's sitting up, breathing heavily, metal objects from around the room hovering ominously in the air, trembling as though they're about to fly across the room at any moment. "Erik!" you call out, voice firm but gentle as you sit up beside him, careful not to startle him. He doesn't respond right away, his eyes wide, as if he's still trapped in his nightmare. You reach out, placing your hand over his. "It's me. You're safe." Slowly, the objects begin to lower, clattering softly as they land on the floor and furniture. Erik turns to you, his face pale, his eyes haunted. "I... I saw them again," he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. "They were taking you, and I couldn't—" His breath hitches, and you pull him into a tight embrace. "You won't lose me," you whisper fiercely. "I'm right here. We're safe." He clutches you tightly, burying his face in your neck. "I can't protect you from everything," he says, voice shaky. You pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "You don't have to. We protect each other."

Young Hank McCoy:
Hank wakes up with a sharp gasp, his large hand gripping the edge of the bed so tightly that the wood creaks under the strain. You sit up, alarmed, seeing the blue of his fur standing on end, his whole body tense. "Hank," you murmur, gently resting a hand on his arm, though your heart is pounding. His breathing is labored, and when his glowing yellow eyes meet yours, there's a flash of fear in them that makes your stomach twist. "I... I hurt you," he whispers, his voice shaking. "In the dream, I couldn't control myself. I became... a monster." You slide closer, reaching up to cup his cheek, and he leans into your touch, his fur slowly softening under your palm. "You're not a monster," you say firmly. "You're Hank. You're brilliant, and kind, and you would never hurt me." His hands tremble as he brings them up to cover yours, his gaze intense. "But what if I lose control?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if I hurt you without meaning to?" You shake your head. "I trust you. I know who you are, Hank. You won't hurt me." Slowly, the tension in his body eases, and he exhales, his grip on you softening. "Thank you," he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

Peter Maximoff:
Peter is sitting on the edge of the bed when you wake up, his back turned to you, his hands running through his silver hair in frustration. You can feel the room buzzing with leftover energy, like he had been speeding around in his sleep, and it's not hard to guess what woke him. "Pete?" you ask softly, sitting up and moving closer. He doesn't respond immediately, but you see his shoulders slump. "I was too slow," he mutters finally, his voice laced with bitterness. "I couldn't get to you in time." You frown, sliding your hand over his shoulder. "It was just a dream." Peter shakes his head, standing up suddenly and pacing the room at super speed, stopping and starting in a blur. "You don't get it," he says, running a hand through his hair again. "I'm never supposed to be too slow." You walk up to him, catching his arm to stop him from moving again. "You're not too slow, Peter," you say firmly, making him look at you. "You're the fastest guy in the world, but even you can't control everything." He hesitates, his eyes searching yours, and then he sighs, pulling you into a tight hug. "I just can't lose you," he whispers, his voice breaking. You smile against his shoulder. "You won't. I'm not going anywhere."