X-MEN IMAGINES

( s. summers ) moods

GENRE: fluff and smut.
WARNING: nsfw part that is marked by "NSFW" until the end. it still makes sense with out it so!
NOTES: okay so i got nasty. buuuut im going with the cannon where scott see's red in his glasses. new x-men says yellow/gold which i might do it sounds cute.

__________

Arriving at Xavier's school, you were just 11, shaking in the rain and unable to keep your form. Charles was the one to coax you inside, eyes staring into your changing ones with curiosity as he spoke in your head. Promising you warmth, stability, and to not hurt you. That was more than enough to get you on a hospital bed in the basement as Hank monitored your vitals, a big blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Soon, you began to shape-shift involuntarily into the two men. Hank felt disconcerted treating himself, but Charles' company soon had you settling into what they assumed was you. You spent many days in his office with an old GameBoy or a novel as you gathered yourself to start a more normal life. Your hair never did fully stop changing; and Hank soon realized they changed with your mood. He assumed it had to do with hormones or brain activity, but never really could understand it.

By the time Scott came along you were well into your teen years, just like him. Many of your hair's moods had been established by then for Hank to catalog. The first one was nervousness, being green; that was when tended to become reserved and uncomfortable. Then irritability and anger was red. Confusion was orange.

When you greeted Scott, your hair was yellow, and you had a beaming smile, "Hey, I'm (Y/n)," You reached out to shake his hand.

He obliged, and you were glad that his red glasses obscured his eyes from the way your hair tinged slightly green.

"I'm Scott," He managed to say, watching as you smoothed out your dress, lip between your teeth. "That's a lovely name, by the way," He told you belatedly.

You couldn't help but flush, and for the first time, he saw your hair change. It was subtle, but now it seemed to be a light pink. He couldn't help but look surprised, and your face only seemed to heat up more.

"Yeah, it's part of my mutation," You commented, "Sorry." You couldn't really go out to the mall like the other students could, so a normal high school wasn't even an option. You had to hide your hair completely (or take a different body), but mostly; you didn't bother at all.

"No, no, it's okay," He immediately replied, brain still stuck on how you said 'part of'.

"That's the colour she goes when she's flattered," Jubilee placed a hand on your shoulder as if explaining that was helping, and you squeaked.

"It's not that simple," You retorted, looking up at Scott, who only seemed to be smiling with amusement. The bridge of your nose and your cheeks were rosy. He thought you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

Jubilee leaned forward and feigned a whisper, holding a hand to her mouth animatedly, "It kinda is," She told Scott, who laughed in a charming way.

You couldn't help but turn green.

_______

Once you had become closer, Scott was more familiar with your cadences. He couldn't define many specific shades, but he knew what most colours looked like with his red glasses on. He learned to play off your moods in a good way, and you couldn't help but find yourself getting attached to him.

When your hair was royal blue, he'd talk to you with a gentle voice, and ask you what was wrong. He'd spend nights speaking with you and comforting you until you turned white from contentment, or yellow, or even just black when you lulled to sleep.

That day, waves of light blue strands framed your face, head leaning on his shoulder in the common room. Despite the relaxed tone, his heart was beating like crazy. He'd never seen anything like it, and he couldn't help but admire you, fingers drifting through strands as he played with your hair.

You hummed, nudging his hand away with a sleepy smile, "What are you doing?" You asked curiously, eyes barely opening for more than a few moments at a time, which made Scott laugh.

"Nothing," He remarked offhandedly, and you seemed to not want to broach it anymore, because you just 'hmph'ed and lay back on the couch, feet in his lap as you stretched, throwing your arms up.

You stifled a yawn, eventually looking back up at him as if you expected him to say something. A hand reached up to rub your one eye with a sweater paw, "We gonna head up stairs?"

Scott couldn't help but smile how gentle you were when you were tired or run down. The two of you tended to stay up late watching stuff on Xavier's old static-y TV, so he'd gotten to see you like that a lot. And vice versa. Training and high school simultaneously could be difficult. "Sure," He paused, catching warm, caring eyes on him, " . . . does it only go light blue when you're tired?"

The question seemed to surprise you, because you covered your face once you began to blush, your hair losing some of it's colour, much to his dismay. But then it began to turn pink, managing to let out, "Only when I'm sleepy."

Scott's mind was telling him to help you up and walk you back to his bedroom, but almost everything else kept him in his spot, stomach twisting in knots. "Can I tell you something?" He asked, and your heart rate seemed to match his.

You were now sat up, vision level with his as you nodded, hair turning darker shades of pink before him, "Yeah, of course, Scotty." You were fidgeting with the blanket, eyes still slightly lidded with sleep.

"I . . . really like you," He admitted honestly, awaiting a reaction.

Finally, you hair settled on a bright pink as you replied, "I like you too, Scotty."

You didn't know it yet, but that bright pink meant love.

__________

NSFW

You tilted your head back, allowing your boyfriend to leave sloppy kisses along the hollow of your throat. You sighed at the feeling, a hand moving up to tangle gently into his hair, nudging him to trail the kisses downwards.

Scott obliged, thrusting into you slowly, groaning against the skin of your chest as you tugged at his hair, stuttering out his name.

"Please, Scotty." You begged, not too sure what you wanted, before you let out an almost incoherent and breathless: "Scotty . . . fuck me harder."

You didn't have to say anything else, he simply detached his lips from your skin, his hands grabbing your thighs as he pulled you closer to him, moving deeper inside you, biting back a groan at the feeling it caused him. He could feel the pleasure pooling just below his stomach.

Your back arched off of the bed, and you gasped at the feeling of him filling you up, making you feel so good. Moans spilled out of your lips as your hands wrapped around his neck, bringing his mouth down onto yours, kissing him as he continued to thrust into you, deep and fast, and everything that you'd ever wanted.

He loved the way you felt beneath him, profanities and moans flourishing from you because of him alone. When you pulled away from your messy kiss, he looked down at you, trying to mentally capture exactly how you looked in that moment; hair spread across the pillow as you stared back up at him, eyes wide and dark, cheeks flushed. You were beautiful. "God, Scotty. It feels so good."

White. That was the colour of pleasure, just like the colour of contentment.