X-Men Oneshots

Pillow Fight (Peter Maximoff)

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the mansion's expansive grounds. Inside, the common room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a few lamps and the faint flicker of the television, where Peter and I were sprawled on the couch, sharing a quiet evening. It had been a long day filled with intense training sessions and a few too many near-misses with danger. We were both exhausted but content, savoring the rare quiet moment.

Peter had a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his eyes darting to the TV and then to me. "Hey, Y/N, want to see something cool?"

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What are you up to, Peter?"

He wiggled his fingers, his grin widening. "Just a little something I've been working on. Watch closely."

Before I could react, Peter's hand shot out, and in a blur, a stack of magazines flew from the coffee table and hovered in the air. He was demonstrating one of his many speed tricks, and I couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

"See? Pretty cool, right?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yeah, it's impressive," I said, smiling. "But maybe a little less impressive when you nearly knock over everything in sight."

As if on cue, Peter's concentration wavered just a fraction, and the magazines tumbled to the floor in a whirlwind of paper. He laughed, clearly enjoying himself, but I could sense a subtle tension in his movements.

"Oops," he said with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," I said, waving it off. "It's all in good fun."

Peter's grin turned into a playful smirk. "Well, since I'm already making a mess, how about we have a little fun?"

He zipped across the room in a blur, reappearing with a stack of pillows and a devilish look in his eyes. "Pillow fight?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "You're on!"

We started tossing pillows at each other, the room quickly filling with laughter and playful shouts. Peter's speed made him nearly impossible to catch, and I was having the time of my life trying to keep up with him. For a while, it felt like we were just two kids having fun, free from the weight of our responsibilities and the world outside.

In the middle of a particularly intense pillow fight, Peter dashed around the room with lightning speed, his movements so swift that they blurred together. I tried to duck and weave, but his speed made it nearly impossible to avoid his playful attacks. I could feel my heart racing, not just from the exertion but from the thrill of being so close to him.

Suddenly, Peter's speed increased, and I lost track of him for a split second. He zipped around the room, and when he reappeared in front of me, I wasn't prepared for the force of the pillow he swung. It collided with me with unexpected intensity, and I was thrown backward. My body hit the floor with a sharp thud, and a jolt of pain shot through my side.

For a moment, I was stunned, unable to move. I could hear Peter's laughter abruptly stop, replaced by a panicked voice calling my name.

"Y/N! Are you okay? I didn't mean to—"

I struggled to sit up, wincing in pain. The room seemed to spin, and I could feel a dull ache radiating from my side. "Peter... I'm not sure. It hurts."

Peter was at my side in an instant, his face pale with fear. He gently helped me to a sitting position, his hands trembling. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I got carried away..."

His voice was filled with regret, and I could see the distress in his eyes. The playful energy that had been there moments ago was replaced with a look of genuine concern and fear.

"I didn't think I'd hit you that hard," he continued, his voice breaking. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

I tried to take a deep breath, but the pain in my side made it difficult. "It's okay, Peter. It was an accident. Just... give me a moment."

Peter's hands were gentle as he helped me to a more comfortable position. "We need to get you checked out. Let's go see Hank or someone."

I nodded, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening to spill. The pain was sharp, but the fear in Peter's eyes was even more painful. I could see how deeply he was affected by what had happened, and it only made me feel worse.

Peter moved with a blur of speed, returning quickly with a first aid kit. He carefully examined my side, his movements tender and cautious. "Does it hurt anywhere else? Can you move?"

I grimaced as I tried to move, the pain making it difficult. "It's mostly my side. It feels bruised, maybe."

Peter's face was a mask of guilt and anxiety as he applied an ice pack to the affected area. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should have been more careful. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted to have fun."

I reached out and touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort despite my own pain. "Peter, it's okay. I know it was an accident. Just... stay with me for a while."

He nodded, his eyes full of regret as he sat beside me. "I'll stay as long as you need. I just... I can't believe I hurt you. I feel awful."

We sat in silence, the weight of the accident hanging heavily between us. Peter's anxiety was palpable, and I could see how deeply affected he was by the incident. His usual confidence was replaced with a raw vulnerability that was both heartbreaking and touching.

After a while, the pain in my side began to subside, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "I think I'm okay. It still hurts, but it's not as bad as it was."

Peter's eyes were filled with relief, though the guilt remained. "I'm glad you're feeling a bit better. I promise I'll be more careful from now on. I never want to hurt you again."

I took his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. "I know, Peter. I trust you. It was an accident, and accidents happen. But it's important to be careful, especially when you're moving that fast."

Peter nodded, his gaze filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. "I'll be more mindful. I don't want to cause you any more pain."

The rain outside had finally begun to ease, the storm subsiding into a gentle drizzle. It was a small but comforting sign that things were calming down, both outside and within.