the left phalange

The Post War Dream

Background: Ever since Apocalypse came and left, Peter has been paranoid, due to it being the first time in his life where he was rendered completely powerless. You make it your job to cheer him up.

Rating: T 

Warnings: it’s super fluffy but there is a lot of people getting drunk and cursing so watch out

Words: 2,264 words

A/N: yes, i probably am going to make all of my peter maximoff x reader’s references to pink floyd songs. I will not be stopped. (im using a tate gif bc i can fight me) Also, I made Peter’s leg heal faster because idk his metabolism is always like gotta go fast so i assumed his body would react to that type of intake of energy by healing faster. {also GAAhh sorry for taking so long but hopefully its worth it} [and @kurtwxgners bc i was originally going to send this in as a headcanon but look at me now]

Your nails gently dug into your scalp and you closed your eyes and waited. You hated waiting. You had been waiting for 29 days, how much longer could you go on? Everything about your situation sucked. Peter wasn’t ever happy, even though he tried to fake it. His smiles were always tight-lipped and scrunched up his eyes, more like grimaces than greetings. The only thing you had left right now was your best friend, Kurt. After raking your fingertips all the way over your head and pushing your hair back along with them, you opened your eyes once more. Kurt sat on the twin size bed beside yours, which actually belonged to Ororo. He had been helping you brainstorm ways to cheer Peter up, but the air was filled with silence and diminishing hope, something that somewhat put a damper on your plans.

It was then that Kurt chose to speak up, “I think we should throw him a party.” His tone was optimistic, though laced with preparation for rejection.

You rolled your eyes, “Kurt, he hates parties. Everyone crowds him, he says there’s not enough space to run around.”

“What if we made it so it was just us, Ororo, Jubilee, Scott, and Jean, ja?” the blue skinned boy fidgeted, examining your thoughtful expression.

“You know what….” you shot up, determined, “Yes. That’s exactly what we’ll do. We’ll have string lights and blankets and food and most importantly, I’m afraid, alcohol.” Kurt winced slightly at the word, already feeling pressured. “You don’t have to drink anything you don’t want to, Kurt. Don’t worry, this party is supposed to be fun!” you jumped up and threw your arms around his neck, needing to give off some of your excitement before you exploded. Kurt blushed, returning the favor. It only lasted a second however, as you were already buzzing down the hall, running, because why not? You were finally going to bring that smile back to his face and no one would stop you.


The clock ticked like a bomb. Always counting down to the minute, hour, day, week, month, year. He remembered you reading something sort of like this before Apocalypse happened. You told him about it while he vaguely caught your words, too busy caught in the way your eyes flickered when you were talking about something you love. You were painfully aware of this, despite his ‘stealth’, but kept your pace, trying to instill at least a few words in his memories. 

“This book I’m reading, the tell-tale heart, it’s about a man who’s obsessed with the pale blue eye that this old man has. Every night he sneaks into the old man’s room and shines a light onto the old man’s eye to see if he opens it, which he never does, so he doesn’t feel he can kill him. Then, the eighth night that he checks on the his eye, the old man wakes and the man kill hims, cutting him up and putting his body under the floor. The police come because the old man screamed and the man convinces the police that the old man was out of town and that he screamed in his sleep. Only then a terrible ticking noise starts coming from the floorboards that only the killer can hear, and he ends up confessing to the police and saying that the sound is the old man’s heart. Creepy, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.” he muttered quietly, letting go of a small breath at the sight of your wired eyes. You rolled them at his ‘fascination with the story’ and continued. It wasn’t that he didn’t love your mind, it was that he loved your spirit. 

It was the same spirit that had been absent so long from both of you. He missed it, he missed being able to sleep, he missed being able to not care, or at least fake it well enough so that it didn’t faze him. Lately, he had been doing more than he had ever done, visiting the Eiffel tower, stealing more twinkies, everything he loved. It didn’t help though, and he never felt the same rush that he used to. It all felt like some kind of grand performance, like he was going through the motions. He never slept, but when he woke he didn’t want to get out of bed. All he could think about was how helpless Apocalypse had made him. The curtains were drawn and the room had no color at all, none except for the red, moving line on the clock, with it’s insufferable clicking noise. Nothing here felt right anymore. He didn’t feel at home anymore.

Electing to try another activity he secretly felt would prove fruitless, he got up and dragged his feet to your room, which by normal terms meant he speed-walked there. Pausing before knocking at your door, he heard Kurt’s voice. He knew he was your best friend, but he still had a nagging anxious feeling that he couldn’t shake. He had been having more and more of these feelings since Apocalypse. Pressing his ear gently to the door, he faintly made out a nervous voice.

“What if we made it so it was just us, Ororo, Jubilee, Scott, and Jean, ja?” the thick and timid accent suggested. Peter’s brows furrowed in thought, are they planning something specifically without me? His interest piqued, he leaned in closer until he made out your excited voice.

“You know what……yes.” you accepted as Peter’s stomach dropped, his head hung as he swiftly stepped back from the door. He already thought he was dragging you down with this whole predicament after the war, but this really sent him over the edge, knowing you didn’t want him around. He ran down the hallway, outside the doors, and into the woods, collapsing after the emotions began to rain down harder than before. A single tear dripped down his cheek, and he wiped it away quickly, suppressing any and every feeling he had in an attempt to drown out the one he most feared: rejection.


The next few days went by just as slowly as the last 29, passing like the sun, without cease or warning. You and Kurt remained inseparable as you were constantly adding finishing touches and discussing plans for Peter’s surprise. Although all you and Kurt had talked about for the last week or so was Peter, Peter was pretty much absent all the time while you worked on it, and you were grateful for the time to work on his party despite the tugging in your chest of wanting to be near him. Unbeknownst to you, he was near you quite a bit, always spying on you and Kurt and making sure nothing happened. Once you two were behind closed doors he couldn’t see you, though. It made him even more paranoid. He didn’t want to face you after what he had heard, and if that meant losing even more sleep, he would have to deal. 

As the week drifted to an end and classes let out for the weekend, you and Kurt were all prepared for the perfect thing to cheer Peter up. Kurt had held your waist (while blushing, admittedly) and bamf’ed you into the trees so that you could tie the blankets to the branches, something he had more than a little difficulty with considering his phalanges. You left out a small slot of sky visible so that you could still stargaze while keeping a cozy feel to the entire place. You hung sheets around the edges of the trees, making makeshift walls as Jean set up the picnic with Scott. Ororo made sure it didn’t rain while Jubilee set up the string lights. Everything is perfect, you thought to yourself, sighing, wait until Peter gets a load of this. Wait, Peter. Fu-huuuck, you remembered. You were so caught up in planning for him that you forgot to inform him of his own party. You shouted a quick “Be right back!” to Kurt before scurrying up the steps, your dark green skirt swirling behind you. 

Peter was searching the mansion for you once more. He was fed up with all the worrying, he just wanted you to tell him what was going on, and all the uncertainty in his head just flew around and around his mind until he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt insane. As he heard the familiar slamming of your black combat boots on the hardwood floors, his pulse quickened. What if he didn’t get the answer he was looking for? 

You made a left straight into Peter. Muttering a brisk apology, you lifted your head, being met with his bordering on black eyes. They had heavy purple bags beneath them from his lack of sleep and he seemed almost hollow. It could’ve brought you to tears, but instead of bringing you to your knees, it made you even more determined to give him a nice night. He started trying to speak, “Listen, I gotta- woaAao” You grabbed his arm and began running down the hall, forcing him to keep a regular pace to keep up with you. You still had to drag him partially, which brimmed your eyes with tears, realizing how unmotivated he truly was. 

Slowing your pace, you brought him outside and dropped his hand, twirling around as if presenting a circus. “Wait, I gotta ask you something. Are you…” he trailed off, taking in his surroundings. You had your hands behind your back and a fragile gaze that was set on Peter. Everyone behind you had just recognized his presence and started to wave him over. His eyes darted between you and the party behind you and everything seemed to click. 

“I’m sorry if you don’t like it, Peter, but-” you shrieked halfheartedly as Peter fervently placed a hand on each of your cheeks and kissed you. It was sweet, yet harsh, putting every emotion he wanted to give to you in the last few days in a single brush of the lips. After it was done, you chuckled nervously, blushing bright red as you scratched the back of your neck. Peter smirked at the sight, taking your hand and leading you to the gathering. You silently thanked Jubilee for remembering to bring the jukebox as you pressed the play button and the soft violin of the beginning of ‘In the Flesh?’ by Pink Floyd rang out into the night. Peter pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead as you broke into the twinkies and started to sing along. 


The night went way too fast for your liking. At least, it felt that way. Soon enough, Ororo broke into the rum and started passing it around as you told stories. Ororo decided to share a story about how she made this boy who picked on Jubilee endure a literal rain cloud above him the entire day. Scott shared a story about him shooting lasers at this guy who called Jean a freak to make him ‘dance’, which you all laughed about, partially because it was fun to make assholes suffer, and partially because you were all getting a bit tipsy. Jean was just about to share when she sent old naked men pictures in the head of this guy who called Kurt ‘the devil’ when Comfortably Numb faded in and Peter tapped your arm insistently, “Guys, shh! This is the best one!”

You smiled at his child-like anticipation when everyone put their arms around each other’s shoulders (and Ororo held up the bottle of rum) and began singing. 

“HEllooo,” you all shouted, Jean holding up a finger signaling a pause before continuing off-key, “Is tHERE AnyBoDY in ThEEERE?” You all started drunkenly laughing your asses off at yourselves, trying and failing to keep up with David Gilmour. The rest of the night was spent singing and swaying and stargazing. As 3:00 am rolled around, you were all sleepy and drunk, Kurt especially, due to how much of a lightweight he was. Jubilee started ‘calling out’ someone incoherently to Ororo as Ororo nodded, as if she understood anything she said. Kurt was giggling and dancing around, despite the music being off. Scott was mumbling something to Jean about ‘You’re so hot, how’d you end up with Scott? He loves you a lot, ya know.’ Jean put her arms on his shoulder unsteadily as she declared she wanted to make out and did just that, really sloppily. Meanwhile, you and Peter laid on the picnic blanket, pointing out stars and naming them. 

“That one’s,” you paused, burping, “That’s one’s a bitch, don’t listen to, to them.” Peter chuckled a bit, turning to see you had fallen asleep in the crook of his shoulder. He smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it felt real. 

“This went a lot better for me than that goth fucker.” he muttered, only half-drunk due to his metabolism. His eyes shut, and this time, he slept the whole night through.


(bonus)

The sun shone through the windows of the X-mansion, pouring light into every room. Charles decided it was time to go outside and get some fresh air, dragging Erik along with him. 

“Look, Erik, the birds are chirping-” 

“Your students are passed out on the front lawn.”

“The trees are swaying in the breeze-”

“Kurt is literally passed out in a tree.”

“The bees are buzzing-”

“Do you see this? Are you ignoring me?”

“Dammit, Erik, why do you always have to ruin everything.” Charles pouted, wheeling back inside and muttering something about meddling kids. 


PSA: Jubilee fell asleep in Ororo’s arms, it’s canon now 

If Liam and Zayn were pictured together right now, it’d cause the left and right phalanges to break forever I reckon and the flux capacitors and my brain and your brain and people who’d never seen them before’s brains would overload and blow I reckon.    So probably for the best we don’t though I would willingly take that chance cos what a way to go.

They look incredible right now.