archieimagines:

charles xavier
why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?

requested by: anon

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“Why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?” A voice echoed from the stairs. You chuckled while wiping your face, consequently wiping flour across your forehead. You stirred the cake batter, whistling as you did. Steps echoed down the hall, followed a by gasp. You turned around slowly, to see Charles Xavier standing in complete and utter shock.

“What happened in here!?” He asked, looking at the state of his kitchen, which looked like a tornado had gone through it. You giggled, continuing to stir the batter.

“I’m baking,” you answered, willing the cookie tray to float out of the oven and set itself on the cooling rack. Sometimes being telekinetic had it’s upsides.

“But why?” He questioned as he ran his had through his hair, still surveying the state of the room.

“It’s a nice treat for the kids who are staying for Christmas,” you responded bluntly, memories flashing though your mind of your Christmases on the streets after your family disowned you for being a mutant. Tears streaked down your cheeks, but were quickly wiped away. You turned back around, pouring the batter into the empty tray. Charles walked up to the bench, rolled his sleeves up and grabbed an apron.

“Charles, you don’t-”

“You always could use another pair of hands.”

“I’m telekinetic Charles, I have an infini-”

“Shut up and let me help.”

Hours later, Logan exited his room to find several students filling the halls. He sniffed the air and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. Scott and Jean came out from their room not long after him, hands entwined.

“What’s that smell?” Scott asked, everyone shrugged. Then your voice screamed from the kitchen.

“CHARLES, THE COOKIES ARE BURNING!” Followed by a crash and a chorus of groans. Jean, Scott and Logan chuckled, before telling the students to go back to what they were doing.

written by: spaz