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teddypines · 23 days ago

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The pretty things in life

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Summary: Y/N needing comfort after a long day and Logan being a carrying husband. Making sure his wife got all the love she deserves after a tough day.

Lost of fluff and use of multiple nicknames (Bub, kitty, Kitten).

Husband!Logan x Wife!Reader. Reader is a snow leopard mutant/hybrid in this, other feline creatures are possible too.

Note: happy New year everyone!! (This was totally not posted on accident). The little poem at the end is from the book 'Pillow Thoughts' by Courtney Peppernell. Words: 2097

Pictures and art from Pinterest, credits to the artist. I just put it together.

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Today wasn’t the greatest day, everything just seemed to go wrong. The children were louder than other days, the noise being a bit too much for Y/N’s sensitive ears, but she was going to finish her lessons. Already looking forward to cuddles in the nest with Logan after dinner. Needing her hubby for comfort, wanting to be wrapped in his arms and sent. But that sadly had to wait for a bit, only two more lessons to give and then she would be done.

“Next slice, please, Kurt.” Y/N said before Kurt tapped the laptop for the next slide of the presentation. “And here we see a painting of heterochromia. See how the artist put detail into every little coloured dot on the eyes.” Y/N explained as she looked at Kurt, giving him a little sign to put on the next slide. Until one of the teen’s put up their hand. “But miss what does this have to do with art?”

“Good question, Alice, we are going to try and paint something as close to it's real life counterpart. Get it to look as realistic as you can, put in details that someone might not see at first. You can try to use different perspectives, see it in a different light and color. Just put on canvas what you see as best as you can.” Y/N explained as she showed the children a piece of art she did showing the beauty of something small yet so bright in color because of the lighting, in this case Beast's blue fur. “And if this doesn’t work for you, then do something else, be creative but keep the overall details in mind, it doesn’t even have to be big. Just paint or draw what you see.”

With this the children went to work on their art as Y/N left the classroom to get a cup of tea and a few moments alone. Of course giving a few students the job to keep the others in check. Not wanting to come back to a destroyed classroom.

Standing in the kitchen as the kettle boiled, thinking about how she could make it to the end of the day without feeling too overwhelmed. Unconsciously rubbing the ears on top of her head. Her tail moved around nervously in a way to try and calm herself down. She was so deep in though she didn’t even notice Logan slipping his arms around her waist.

“What ya thinking about, bub?” He asked, making Y/N jump out of her thoughts. “Just what I have to do to survive the rest of the day.” She answered while leaning back against Logan, her tail going around Logan's leg to ground herself against him. “Awh, is my kitty a little overwhelmed and overstimulated?” Logan asked with a small smirk on his face. Which made Y/N grumble a bit in answer, knowing the tone in her husband's voice all too well. She reached up to grab her teacup from the cupboard.

“How about I join you for your lessons, that’s your last lesson of the day, right?” Logan suggested after kissing Y/N’s shoulder. Wanting her to know he was there for her, even in her overstimulated situation.“No, have one more after this one, but you don’t have to join me, you have your own classes.” She answered. Putting her tea bag into her cup, putting in the boiled water right after. “I finished for the day.”

“Really? Owh, yeah, it’s wednesday.” Y/N realised as Logan took her mug, starting to lead Y/N back to her class, his hand on her lower back, just above her tail. Just a little bit of comfort he could offer her. “Come on love, after classes have ended I'll cuddle with you.” Logan promised with a smile on his face. “In the nest?” Y/N asked, giving Logan big kitten eyes. “Yes, in the nest, bub.”

<---------------------------------------------------->

Logan stayed by Y/N’s side as she helped the children with their art and taught the next class. He didn’t say a single word, he just looked grumpy with his arms folded over his chest and his feet on the desk. Some of the children did see a small glimpse of a smile on Logan’s face when Y/N looked back at him while she explained something about inspiration and making art about the things and/or people you love. Logan’s gaze made a few of the children giggle, and some of the girls just wished someone would look at them like how Logan looks at Y/N. He just really loves his wife and it showed.

If Logan could make art like his wife, he would make art about her, show her how he sees her every day, how beautiful she really is. Bring out her best features, her glowing eyes, her hair and those fluffy ears. That idiot tail that always found a place around his leg or her legs and the thighs he loved to nap on when he allowed himself. Sadly no one would ever see the way Logan sees Y/N since he sucks at art and photography doesn’t do her justice.

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After classes had finally ended for the day and the kids had left the classroom, Y/N sat down in Logan’s lap and let out a sigh. “Good job, bub, you’re done for the day.” Logan whispered into Y/N’s ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Gently holding onto her as she lay her head on his shoulder. “Yeah… Now I want to go to the nest and cuddle, I really need cuddles right now.” Y/N responded as she buried her nose into Logan’s shirt, his scent calming her down a little. “And I could really use some dinner and a good drink, right about now.” She added. “Then let’s get you some dinner first, get you in the shower after and then we can cuddle in the nest.” Logan answered, taking charge. He knew exactly what Y/N needed when she was tired, so he was going to take care of her.

Logan wrapped Y/N’s arms around his neck and her legs around his waist before standing up from the desk chair. Holding her close to him, as he carried her. “What do you want for dinner?” He asked after getting out of the classroom and into the hallway. “Pasta, the good one.” Y/N answered. Logan grumbled a bit as Y/N answered, he knew which pasta she wanted. The only problem with this was that he didn’t make the pasta the way Storm made it. So he only had one choice, hope that Storm was making dinner tonight and that it was the pasta Y/N wanted and that she wouldn't get overwhelmed even more if it wasn’t the pasta she wanted. Y/N wouldn’t but Logan just wanted his wife to have the pasta she wanted.

As Logan carried Y/N to the kitchen, some of the children ran past the two. Also going to the kitchen for dinner. Bickering with each other about what they thought they were going to get for dinner.

When Logan walked into the kitchen with Y/N he saw that it was Jean and Scott by the stove. Logan groaned a little when he found out it wasn’t Storm who made dinner. “What are you two making?” Y/N asked Jean as she looked over Logan’s shoulder, not really minding that it wasn’t Storm making dinner. "Lasagne." Scott answered, putting more sauce in the dish. Logan sighed in relief, lasagne was pasta too, that was good.

“Yeah, and we have garlic bread on the side and some salad if you want to be healthy.” Jean continued Scott's answer. “It will be ready in about forty minutes.” She added, already have read Y/N's thoughts about how long it was going to take until it was done. Y/N groaned but accepted It would take a little more time. “Logan? Can we shower now instead of after dinner? We have the time.” Y/N asked Logan, actually liking that they had time to shower now instead of after dinner. Logan nodded his head and took Y/N to their room after telling Jean and Scott they would be back for dinner.

Some of the children in the kitchen grumbled that they had to wait almost an hour before they could have dinner, not liking that dinner was later than usual. Not really caring that some of the adults had a mission or other adult tasks to do which made them start on dinner a little later.

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Once in their bathroom Logan sat Y/N on the counter next to the sink. “Need me to shower with you, love?” Logan asked between gentle kisses on Y/N”s head. “Yes, I would like that, please.” She answered to which Logan nodded. “Alright, let me get some fresh towels and then I'll help you undress.” Logan said as he whipped underneath Y/N’s eye, brushing away some sleep. He stepped away from her and started to grab enough towels. Y/N on the other hand wasn’t really patient and got off the counter, already undressing herself and putting her clothes in the laundry. She made her way to the shower and turned it on, waiting for the water to become the right temperature.

“Hey, I was going to do that for you kitten.” Logan laughed once he saw his wife already undressed and underneath the warm water of the shower. He placed the towels on the heater next to the shower before undressing himself. “Just wanted to be in the shower already.” Y/N explained as she appreciated the way Logan was undressing. Logan rolled his eyes playfully. “Such an inpatient and naughty kitten.”

Y/N gave Logan a tired smile as he got into the shower with her. Placing her right hand onto his chest. holding back the desire to just press her face into his pec’s. Logan placed his own hand over Y/N’s, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. He looked down at Y/N, seeing just how tired she really was right now and how much the shower was helping her relax. Not a single word needed to be said between them. They just showered in the comfort of each other, Logan helping Y/N was her hair, ears and tail before she helped him wash his. After doing the whole shower routine Logan just held onto Y/N for a few minutes, just letting her know he was here for her, letting her lean on him. Telling her he loved her and other sweet nothings.

Getting out of the shower was difficult, but it happened because tummies started to rumble. Logan helped Y/N dry off and got her into some comfy clothes, his shirt and her favorite comfy pants. He dried her hair and fur, brushing it after. He got some comfy clothes for himself before looking at his watch. “Dinner will be ready soon, bub.” He announced. “Okiedokie.” Y/N answered as she reached out for Logan’s arm. Holding onto him as he led the way back to the kitchen. Logan was secretly liking how clingy Y/N was right now, she usually is when tired, but now she was just a little extra clingy and he loved it.

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Dinner was nice, a bit loud because of the inpatient and hungry kids, but the lasagna was amazing so that fixed everything for Y/N. They stayed a little longer at the dinner table for ice cream and talked about everything and nothing. Well it was mostly Logan and Y/N listening to the other, but they didn’t mind, it was nice to listen every once in a while. After dinner Logan carried Y/N back to their room. Gently laying her down on their nest, laying down next to her after she was settled. Logan made sure Y/N was tucked against him, holding a plushie he gave her for their first anniversary. Warm covers and blankets over the two of them before he kissed her head. “Sweet dreams, Love.” He whispered before watching her fall asleep. She was clearly too tired to stay awake to long for the cuddles she wanted.

Logan admired Y/N for a few minutes, looking at her fluffy ears and her cheeks. The way the bedside lamp made her face glow. She really was the prettiest thing he had ever sat his eyes on. “Of all the maps in the world, the only one I will follow is the map to your heart.” Logan whispered against Y/N’s forehead before leaving a kiss. He turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. Happily falling asleep in their nest, letting the comfort and warmth take over.

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 3 months ago

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NOCTURNAL ANIMAL.

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Kurt Wagner x Wife! Fem! Reader.

¿Request? Yes!

This is a NSFW Headcanon! (Pwp?)

warnings ⸺ mdni! (18+ ONLY),Dark themes, violence/death, blood, ¿OOC Kurt? Idk, nsfw, dubcon, religious references, established relationship, marriage, praise, scratching, AFAB! Reader, biting, explicit sex, dacryphilia, rough sex, creampie, crying, penetration, masturbation, oral reception (F+M! Receiving), hair pulling, tail kink, messy kissing.

synopsis ⸺ He was like a wild animal, marked by a fierce and primal need. Every kiss, every touch, every sigh from him was an act of worship and possession. In the eyes of God, his only sin was loving you too much, until his love became an uncontrollable fire that consumed him completely. In his desperation, he was capable of anything to have you, to make you his, to show that his devotion knew no bounds. And as he gave himself to you, the echo of his sin resonated in every corner of his being.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish is— This is for @lieberhase. My apologies for the delay, this is the most overdue request I have. I’ve been overwhelmed with many things to do, and I couldn't dedicate the time it truly deserved. I’m sorry it turned out short; the last thing I want is to cause you any inconvenience. I really appreciate your patience and understanding, and I promise I will do my best to ensure this doesn't happen again. Thank you for your support, I truly value it ♡

Kurt was a two-faced demon, much like his parents. When you first started dating, some time after meeting at the institute, he played the part of your perfect prince, treating you like you were his deity. He loved marking you with kisses in the most visible places and often sought heated make-out sessions in front of anyone he deemed a rival. Kurt wanted to eliminate every suitor who dared enter your life—and he succeeded more than once! But it broke his heart to see you sad and distraught after hearing that yet another new friend had died under mysterious circumstances. So he resigned himself to simply pouring his jealous fervor into you instead, finding that preferable to seeing your friends strung up somewhere with bloody claw marks and sword-inflicted wounds that, indirectly, you had caused.

In the early days of your physical relationship, he was fixated on making you climax first. Often, he would start with his mouth, using his long tongue (his demonic heritage shining through) to worship your cunt on his face. He could stay like that for hours, wanting only to adore your small, tender flesh against his mouth. His deep moans reverberated against your slick, sensitive skin, mixing your juices with his hot saliva. His tail held you firmly in place, preventing you from squirming too much from the overstimulation. He couldn’t stop; the scent of your sweetness filling his nose and mouth with each roll of your hips, your desperation to climax—all of it was divine. To see you twist and tremble with abandon above him, lost in pleasure, was to glimpse paradise. He whispered praises in German, words slipping out in the language of his euphoria, too intoxicated to bother with English.

When you returned the favor, Kurt was, in truth, a little hesitant. Don’t get him wrong—he loved the way you did it. You were incredible, but the sight of your tear-streaked cheeks whenever his tip hit the back of your throat drove him absolutely wild. The air felt thick as you stroked him, his cock slick with your spit and his precum, his breath hitching every time you gazed up at him with those pretty, puppy-like eyes. Your tongue moved eagerly around him, and as you took him into the warmth of your mouth, he began to lose control. “I love you… oh... Liebling, you know you’re mine, right?... All... mine” he moaned, voice growing louder as he unraveled. And when he could take no more, he grabbed your hair and thrust into your mouth with abandon, calling out his love for you in German. At last, he would spill deeply down your throat, ensuring you swallowed every drop. “You’re so good, Schatz… so perfect.”

Sixty-nine was another favorite of his, a chaotic symphony of sensations as if fireworks were exploding within both your stomachs, a shared euphoria bordering on divinity itself.

Before marriage, you two only engaged in oral sex. Kurt wanted to preserve both your purity and his until the right time, refusing to penetrate you even when you begged for it. “I’m sorry, Engel... I love you, and I’d do anything for you, but it’s better if we wait, no matter how much it hurts...” he’d whisper, lying next to you, feeling each restraint chipping at his resolve. He stored away that primal need to take you, to lose himself in you like an animal in heat, all so the moment could be special for both of you, but especially for you.

Yet, when the time came and that fragile barrier shattered, he couldn’t stop himself. He captured you in a fierce embrace, pushing into you, his cock sinking deep and finding the sweetest, most tender part of you. The gentle Kurt you once knew vanished, replaced by a primal version of himself, ready to mark you, to fill you, to claim you. He growled, his hips moving with wild, relentless force, fucking you harder with each thrust. His cock pulsed inside you, his balls slapping against you as he drove deeper. Leaning in, he bit down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a lasting mark.

He loved telling you how beautiful you looked, tear-streaked and drooling just for him. Your nails dug sensually into his back, making him blush and delirious, thrilled that you were marking him, in turn, your own way. “Meine Liebe… deine Muschi ist so eng…” he moaned in your ear, his tail teasing your clit or pressing into your other entrance, all while using his thick cock to reach those perfect spots inside you, watching with delight as you trembled beneath him. He savored the way your cunt clenched around him, fitting him so beautifully.

He moved you like his own personal doll, molding your insides to the shape of his cock on every surface he could find. Your cries and his groans echoed through the house as he bent you to his will. “Oh God, I’m going to fill you up… we’ll be a big family,” he muttered right before spilling his hot seed deep inside, painting your tender walls with his essence.

“Mmm... Yes… take my seed, Liebling... Let me fill you with my essence... let the world see you’re mine,” he purred, his fingers pressing his cum deeper inside you, ensuring you were utterly filled with him.

Even afterward, when you lay limp on the bed, he would take care of you, murmuring endless apologies for his roughness, kissing every mark he left, cradling you gently as he carried you to the bath to clean up. “Rest now, Engel… there’s still so much ahead... I won’t stop until you understand that no one else could ever make you feel like I do.”

A/N ─── Okay, so, this was way out of character. I know, I know, Kurt would definitely be kind and gentle during sex because, well, that's just who he is—he's all about that soft, caring energy, especially in intimate moments. But honestly, I feel like Yandere!Kurt would be soooo different. Like, in a completely different league.

If we’re talking about Yandere!Kurt, things would shift. His love would still be intense, but in a way that borders on obsessive. We all know how deeply Kurt feels about his loved ones, how protective he is of those he cares about, right? But Yandere!Kurt would take that to a whole other level. He wouldn’t just be gentle and thoughtful—he’d be possessive, maybe even a bit possessive to the point of being a little too protective.

I can totally see him being that way in a more intimate setting, especially if he’s completely devoted to someone. He’d be gentle at first, but there’s always that undercurrent of control and adoration in everything he does. He’d need to feel like you’re his, like you're totally and utterly his. Every touch would feel like a claim, a marking of his territory, but in the softest, most intimate way possible, you know?

It’s like he wouldn’t just want to please you—he’d want to possess you. In his mind, his love would be absolute, and he would do anything to make sure you never leave his side. The love he feels would be a mixture of devotion and this intense need to keep you close. So, yeah, Yandere!Kurt would be different. More... intense. More possessive. More desperate to make sure you never, ever doubt his devotion. It’s almost like his kindness would become overwhelming because he’d want to keep you, forever.

It would be the sweetest, most obsessive love, and honestly, I think that would be such a wild, yet compelling dynamic for him. Just imagine him loving you so much that he can’t let go, always ensuring you’re safe, always there, and yes, maybe even a little overboard, but that’s what makes it so unique.

But anyway, I hope you all liked this! If you want anything else, feel free to ask me anytime. I’m always up for requests!

Take a bath!!

#x reader #yan blog #fem reader #yandere #yandere x reader #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel xmen #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #yandere marvel #afab reader #tw.yandere #tw.dubcon #yandere kurt wagner

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dominos-palast · 2 years ago

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Lessons on flirting

Fandom: XMen

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x fem!reader

Characters mentioned: Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Peter Maximoff

Used Pronouns: (she/her)

Warnings: none

Request: yes

Part: 1/3

A/N: I made an exception and did a fem!reader one since it was requested like that. I will eventually upload a gn!reader version

P.S.: I decided to split the request into 3 because I wanted to post something since it’s taking longer than promised :’)

Summary: Kurt has a crush on one of the best fighters in the institute, but doesn’t know how to approach the situation. Thank goodness that Peter and his friends are there to support him.

Word Count: 1k

“I did not get my ass whooped.” Scott walked between Jean and Kurt, trying to defend himself from Jean’s accusations.

“Of course not. How could you ever? We all know how strong the great Scott Summers is.” Scott would have felt flattered by such a response if it weren’t for the sarcasm behind her words.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep making fun of me. As if you had done it better,” he said eyeing the ice pack Jean pressed to her shoulder, only gaining a slight strong nudge on his bruised arm.

Kurt couldn’t help but snicker at their bickering. They had been on it since their last class. The topic had been self-defence. The catch: The use of powers was strictly prohibited. This type of class had become more frequent since the rumours of a new power suppressant circulating in the black market started. The professor wanted all students to be able to defend themselves, with and without powers.

“You sure can laugh,” Scott glanced at Kurt. “We aren’t allowed to use our powers, but you still can use your tail to fight.”

Kurt smiled proudly and swung his tail from side to side, mocking him even further.

“These classes are stupid. I have literal lasers for eyes. I can fry anyone even miles away from me. Why should I train in close combat if no one can get close to me anyway?” Scott let himself fall on the couch, resting his feet on the table in front of him. Jean already knew it was his frustration talking. They all had been lectured enough to understand why such classes were necessary.

Jean followed Scott’s lead and made herself comfortable beside him. Kurt leaned against the armrest of the couch.

“He indeed has an advantage, but I wasn’t expecting him to be that good.” She directed her eyes toward Kurt “You put up a pretty good fight against her, considering she is top of the class,” said Jean approvingly.

Kurt’s eyes suddenly lit up, and he turned toward them.

It was clear to him who she was talking about.

You hadn’t been in the institute for long but you managed to make a name for yourself right away. You hadn’t lost a spar in the self-defence class until now, making you one of the strongest fighters in the class.

“But how come she’s so strong? Does she have enhanced strength or something?” asked Scott raising an eyebrow.

“No. Her power is to transform drawings into solid objects,” Kurt responded.

Jean nodded and added, “I saw one of the spars she had with an older student. She pulled out a literal sword from the tattoo on her arm and beat his ass right in front of everyone. But do you know why she really is so strong?” Scott looked up at Jean’s questions with expectancy. “It’s because she is not a couch potato. Unlike you, Scott”

Scott threw a pillow at her, which she quickly stopped with her telekinetic powers.

The conversation went on with more complaints and remarks about the self-defence classes.

Kurt's mind drifted away, thinking of today’s class. More specifically the spar you had with him.

The first time he met you was in the self-defence class where he has been witness to your many wins. He has seen how graciously you can move and how powerful every single punch of yours is.

His admiration for you grew further and further from that day on. Not only because of your abilities but also because you remained humble and kind instead of letting your accomplishments get to your head. You were someone Kurt looked up to because you didn’t simply knock your opponent down. You gave hints and advice on what the correct stance is, how to throw a proper punch and so on. After every spar, you helped your opponent up and cheered them up like a football team’s coach would do. And you did exactly the same thing with Kurt after sparring with him.

He had lasted longer than the majority of the students you had gone against, but you still managed to make him eat dust. He lay on the ground as you approached to lend a hand. Kurt noticed your hand and was about to accept your help, but then hesitated. He was sure you would feel uncomfortable, considering Kurt’s unusual handshape. But to his surprise, you grabbed his hand and pulled him onto his feet. He felt his cheek burn when he noticed the short distance you had between each other, but you kept your grip on his hand. The words you said stuck to Kurt like glue: “That was amazing. Just as expected. We have to repeat this sometime soon”. That along with your beautiful, bright smile made his heart beat unusually fast.

“Earth to lover boy, are you listening?”

Kurt turned his head toward Scott and Jean. Both were staring at him with sneaky smiles on their faces.

“Entschuldigung?”, asked Kurt clearly confused.

Jean and Scott exchanged glances in amusement.

“You’ve been smiling like an idiot since we mentioned her”, Jean said raising her eyebrows.

Kurt felt his cheeks grow hotter. “Oh, I was thinking of- you know, class- I mean-”

“Dude, it’s so clear you have a crush on her. You drool every time she is near,” Scott said rolling his eyes.

“It’s not like-”

“You have a crush on her” Kurt yelped at the sudden presence behind him, teleporting onto the spot between Jean and Scott on the couch on reflex. “Like, totally obvious” Quicksilver took a long sip from his apple juice, only to look disgusted at it. “What’s the expiration date on this?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t realise.” Kurt looked worryingly at Peter. “Do you think she noticed? Oh no, what if I weirded her out?”

“Well, only one way to find out.”

Everyone stared at Peter expectantly as he sipped his juice with risen eyebrows.

------- Part 1/3 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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softfem-dom · 4 months ago

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mutant file ,, fem oc

name : dolores betelohim nicknames : lola , lolita , dolly , lola dear .

alias : heaven says short form : heaven , heaveny

day of birth : 15th april 19??

height : 5,4

category : mutant (level 4-5)

abbilities : angel morphing , siren song / voice ridden mind-manipulation , dermakinesis , telepathy (weak).

residence : xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

occupation : (apathetic)student

affliction : xmen (occasionally) (since 1998)

state : 𝔞l҉𝔦v҉𝔢?

story

🖇️ early life Dolores was born in a catholic household, under the watch of a caring mother and the hand of a strict yet loving father. As soon as she was old enough to understand the world her she was taught about the love of God, the merciful being above, taken to church every Sunday and with a rosary hanging from her neck.

Pale as a white bunny, with equal curiosity for everything around her, and with eyes as blue as the sky. Her dark, almost coal-y, brunette hair only adding to the purity that seemed to coat her very being.

However, that purity didn't get a chance to last too long. When the priest from the church spotted her, looking like the ethereal esence of a divine being, he revealed himself to not be as kind as everyone had been fooled to believe.

He was part of an organization, an illegal project. To create angels on earth and, by false visual, force the christianism over the rest of religions by existent 'proof' of divine beings.

So, that fateful Sunday after church, she didn't get a chance to go back home. Snatched away with a cloth over her mouth, only to awake in some kind of rusty and old room surrounded by sharp medical props and colorful and strange vials on creaky shelfs.

She was experimented on. Mutated. To grow wings and have the melodic voice of the angels above. Completely stripped off of her own humanity to fake her into a 'divine' being to be worshipped. Surrounded by equal hate and disgust as admiration and amazement. just a prop to a cult.

🖇 xavier's school for gifted youngsters

After years of being trapped within the same walls, being forced to perform like some circus act. After years of being aressed as a divinity yet treated like a lab rat. One fateful days the alarms inside the facility went off, commotion being heard out in the halls, the armored door of her 'room' hiding her away from everything.

Then was when she met Charles Xavier and his team. She would've been scared of the blue man suddenly appearing inside of her room, with a 'poof' and a cloud of smoke, if it weren't for the cross pendant hanging from his neck. Christians were good samaritans, she tried to convince herself.

It turned out, at least that Christian was indeed a good samaritan. Offering her his hand and taking her away from it all, not caring about the wings growing from her back nor the blue in her eyes. She was for once being treated like a human being instead of like a divine being in need to be worshipped yet hidden away.

After that, she met the rest of the team; ororo, jean, charles, scott and kurt —the one who saved her. And found her home in Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters. She was still seen as an angel within those walls. Yet not for the white wings, nor for the pure blue in her eyes, nor for the pale and perfect of her skin, nor from the melody in her voice, but for her smile and kind heart.

After she started to live out in the open, taking classes like any normal teen and playing outside, it soon became obvious the way her body rejected the necessary nutrients for growing —due to the poor conditions of the lab— and she ended up developing anemia, low iron levels.

Sooner than later, though, new people joined the team. Remy LeBeau aka Gambit, Anna Marie aka Rogue, Piotr "Peter" Nikolaievitch Rasputin aka Colossus, Robert Louis "Bobby" Drake aka Ice-Man, Katherine Anne "Kitty" Pryde aka Shadowcat and Logan Howlett aka Wolverine with whom she'll end up growing closer than she expected. A total contrast to see the dictionary definition of purity and religiousness attached to the hip of the sarcastic and dry-humoured man that was atheist to the damn bone.

🖇character analysis :

dear lola is an optimistic and soft girl, she is deemed extremely chill for her age —y'know puberty and all—. She seems to lack teenager hormones with how calm she is.

despite her past in a laboratory, and all the cultist stuff, she remains catholic and firm to the belief that there is a God up there that will always be there for her in the good and the bad. That's probably one of the reasons she is so close to Kurt, since they share religion and equal passion about it.

She will talk about her religion to anyone who asks or shows interest, even if she knows most people —especially teens— in the school don't give two shits if there is someone above due to their ansty teen rebellion phase she'll remain loyal in her beliefs.

She spends most of her time in the garden, the part with the tallest trees. She likes to climb the trees and spend her hours drawing or reading on the branches.

It's suspected that her calmness and relaxed nature is due to her very low iron, that has her with much less social battery and energy than people her age. She's not allergic to social interaction, but she prefers time alone or time shared in silence.

She's a very loving individual, surprisingly palyful and full of mischief. She loves helping the other teens plot schemes and pranks on the teachers —especially Scott and Logan—.

Everyone believes that the 'angel' part of her are just the white wings in her back, the ones she's always dragging on the floor because they weight quite a lot despite their feather-y appearance. But, in reality, the whole implanted 'divine' part of her is such a monstruous form that she'll never let anyone see it. The fact that she can turn in such a monstruous creature keeps her awake at night sometimes, seeing the reflection of something antromorphic and disgusting in the mirror whenever she looks at it.

Her first encounter with Logan aka the Wolverine wasn't a very pleasant one. He had been living in the school for only two or three days when he stumbled upon the sight of a supposed big bird in the branch of a tree, he wasn't thinking straight when he grabbed a small rock and threw it at the 'animal' —believing it to be something dangerous to the kids in the school—. Only to be met by the sight of a female face turning to him with wide eyes and a heavily offended expression after the loud 'thwack!' of the rock hit her in the back of her head.

She crawled up to the branches of the tree until the green leafs hid her from him and didn't come back down until it was Storm the one calling her from under the tree.

Needless to say Logan was ashamed as fuck after realizing he had threw a rock at a random kid.

After a bit of time and a cookie offering —suggested by Jean— the two of them started to get closer. With Logan freaking the fuck out the first time Lola got up too fast and fell right to the floor, damn low iron.

Despite the two of them being the total ephytomy of opposites, Logan still put up with the religious kid even while being atheist himself. He couldn't give two shits about the 'supposedly' God up in the sky —how would that even work anyways? some huge dude in the sky?—, but he never dismissed her as he never dismissed Kurt even if the two of them paired up were a total pain in the ass.

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cherry-writes-smut · 4 months ago

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Logan Howlett/Wolverine:

Scott Summers/Cyclops:

Hank McCoy/The Beast:

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler:

Raven Darkholme/Mystique:

Charles Xavier:

Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto:

Alex Summers/Havoc:

Anna Marie/Rogue:

John Allerdyce/Pyro:

Bobby Drake/Iceman:

Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver:

Remy LeBeau/Gambit:

Anna Marie/Rogue:

Scott Summers/Cyclops:

Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler:

Jean Grey/Phoenix:

Ororo Munroe/Storm:

Kevin Sydney/Morph:

Jubilation Lee/Jubilee:

Robert De Costa/Sunspot:

Tate Langdon:

Kyle Spencer:

Kit Walker:

Zoe Benson:

Madison Montgomery:

Violet Harmon:

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localvigilante · 8 months ago

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Knights and Princesses (Kurt Wagner x Fem!Reader)

One of the younger students at the school asks you and some other X-men to play a game of pretend. And a certain blue elf takes it as a chance to be a charming little dork. (shameless Kurt x Reader fluff w Scott and an unnamed x-baby making an appearance)

A.N. So, this was actually written many, many years ago on an old blog of mine but I've been wanting to write some Kurt stuff again, so I decided to dust it off, revise it, and post it here. Hope you enjoy!

The reader is called "princess" and is described as wearing a dress, but no other descriptors are present.

Kids were something else, you muse as you smooth out the creases in your elaborate outfit, particularly the children at Xavier’s school. You liked kids but one little tot had taken a great liking to you, she was about six and was always roping you into playing pretend with her. You didn’t mind, after all, who could say no to an excuse to act like a kid again? And if these little games between your harrowing missions made you and the girl smile, who were you to say no?

But, as you stand at the top of the main staircase, dressed in a pink, lacy princess dress, you wonder if you had to invest in proper costumes for the sessions of make-believe.

The dress was too small for you, the skirt not even going to your knees, and you had to leave the back unzipped just to fit in it; but it made the little one happy to see you oblige her wanting to play “Knights and Princesses” by playing the latter. You had naturally wanted to be the knight with her, but that role had been given to none other than…

“Oh Princess of Xavier castle, we are here to rescue you!” called a dramatic and accented voice from the bottom of the stairs. You watched as Kurt and the little one leaped from the shadows, both donning knightly costumes and plastic swords.

That was your cue, you step out and place your hand on the banister at the top of the grand staircase. “Oh my brave knights!” you cried in a wavering, simpering tone. Hey, if you were stuck as the princess, might as well have some fun, right? “Please, you must run and save yourselves!”

“Knight’s never run!” the girl shouted with pride, puffing out her chest.

“What she said!” Kurt confirmed.

“But, my heroes, you don’t understand! There’s a fearsome dragon- and he’ll surely destroy both of you!” You paused, but nothing happened. “I said.” you repeated, far more sharp this time, “He’s sure. To destroy. Both of you!”

“Rawer.” came a flat voice from the other side of the stairs.

Scott came out into the open, dressed in a cardboard and crayon-colored attempt at a dragon’s costume you and the mini knight had made to fit him. He had wanted to be a knight too, but folded like a cheap suit the moment the girl gave him the Big Sad Eyes and asked him to be their dragon.

Surprisingly, despite his flat tone, he wasn't doing too bad.

"Who dares enter my castle!" he said, ending with a much better roar than his first.

The little girl yelled dramatically “The Knights of the X Table, that's who! Now get back, you nasty beast! You won’t terrorize the princess any longer!”

" 'Nasty'? Well, that's a little uncalled f- AH!" Scott's mumbling was cut off as the tiny knight charged, swinging her sword wildly.

“Sir Kurt, you get the princess to safety, I’ll deal with the creature!” She called back as Scott the dragon let out another yell and ran for the next room.

Kurt looked up at you with a wink, “My pleasure!” and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

He reappeared next to you, that wicked grin displayed brilliantly on his face. His tail gripped the back of your dress and pulled, effectively causing you to spin into his arms. You couldn’t help the heat rising in your cheeks as his face neared yours.

“Are you ready, meine Prinzessin?” he asked in a low, almost intimate tone. But before you had time to reply with anything but flustered mumbles, he pointed his sword at the sky and yelled “Fear not, your Highness, for I shall throw you to safety!”

That got your attention “Wait ‘throw’!?”

Before you could free yourself of the elf, he lifted you into his arms and the gesture would have been romantic, if he had not immediately tossed you over the banister.

You only had time to scream something along the lines of ‘I’ll run you through with that plastic sword, Wagner’ before you were engulfed in black and purple smoke. Next thing you knew, Kurt was crouching on the ground floor holding you closely…and barely concealing his teasing chuckles!

“Come now, Liebling, did you really think I would let you get hurt?” He asked, obviously still amused at how shocked your face was.

“You could have warned me,” you crossed your arms, but even you knew all he had to do was smile to be forgiven.

“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?”

You rolled your eyes, but then the voice of Kurt’s fellow knight in cardboard armor came from the other room. “Sir Kurt, have you gotten the princess yet!?”

“Oh, my dear knight, thank you for freeing me from that awful tower!” you cried, falling back into character easily and making sure the little one heard you.

“Of course, my fair damsel,” Kurt replied in that theatrical voice, but then “anything for you,” he added in that same low tone he used before. “You know, usually the prince gets a kiss in reward when saving a damsel in distress.”

“Is that so?” You ran your hands up his chest and leaned in so your lips were just a breath apart. “Well, my prince…” you swore you heard him draw in a breath and hold it, anticipation simmering- right before you snatched the plastic sword from his hand and jumped to your feet. “You'll have to get your kiss after we defeat the dragon!”

The look on his face was priceless as you winked at him and turned towards the next room. You brandished the sword proudly and charged towards the mini knight and Scott the dragon, yelling like a Shakespearian actor about how the beast’s days were numbered.

You didn’t see the look of complete adoration etched on Kurt’s face as he watched you, tail swaying dreamily behind him. After allowing himself a smitten sigh, he stood straight and pulled a second plastic sword from his belt.

"Wait for me!"

...

Comments and Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

#kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader #deeja writes #x-men reader insert #reader insert #comic book kurt x reader #x men x reader

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urdreamydoodles · 4 months ago

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X-Men x Fem!Reader (Part.1)

You leave them speechless with your bikini (Part.1)

You arrives at a private X-Men beach in a stunning bikini, instantly capturing the attention of your crush who struggle to maintain their composure

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff, Jean Grey & Ororo Munroe

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

The sun beats down on the secluded stretch of beach where the X-Men have gathered for a rare day off, the sounds of the waves lapping gently at the shore. Logan stands near the bonfire pit, his sharp eyes watching as his teammates laugh and splash around in the water, but his mind isn’t really on their fun. He’s more focused on the horizon, trying to find peace in the familiar scent of the ocean, but that all changes when you step onto the sand.

He glances over, and there you are, walking across the beach in a bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. His breath hitches slightly at the sight of you, all sun-kissed skin and effortless beauty. The way the sunlight plays off your body makes his throat tighten, and suddenly, Logan has to clench his fists to keep his composure. His sharp senses can pick up on everything about you—your scent, the warmth radiating from your skin, and the way your soft laughter reaches his ears.

You’re walking toward the water, completely oblivious to the effect you’re having on him, and for a moment, Logan’s mind goes blank, his usual cool exterior crumbling as he watches you. He can feel the animal inside him stir, the raw attraction that he tries so hard to keep in check roaring to life. His heart races, and it’s taking everything in him not to let his eyes linger too long, not to show just how much he’s affected.

"Whoa, Logan, you might wanna close your mouth before you start droolin'," comes a teasing voice from beside him. Logan turns to see Bobby grinning like an idiot, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Logan growls low in his throat, but it’s more embarrassed than angry. "Shut it, Drake," he mutters, trying to ignore the way his face feels like it’s on fire. He can feel the heat rising in his body, a mix of frustration and longing swirling inside him, but he can’t risk losing control. Not here, not now.

Bobby snickers and pats Logan on the shoulder. "She’s somethin’ else, huh? Can’t say I blame you. If I had your senses, I’d probably be in trouble too."

Logan clenches his jaw, his eyes flicking back to you for a brief moment before he forces himself to look away. "Ain’t your business, Drake," he grumbles, though his tone lacks its usual bite.

But Bobby’s words only make it harder for Logan to push the thoughts away. Every time he catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye, his chest tightens. He wants to go over to you, wants to say something, but the tension between you two has been building for weeks, and he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.

As the day wears on and the sun begins to set, Logan finds himself standing closer to you, the unspoken connection between you two almost tangible. You glance over at him, a soft smile on your lips, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. The temptation is too strong, the desire too overwhelming. He’s not sure how much longer he can pretend he’s not completely drawn to you.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

The day is hot and humid, the perfect weather for a beach trip. The X-Men had chosen a private stretch of sand, far away from prying eyes, and everyone was in high spirits. Remy, as usual, was the center of attention, making jokes and tossing cards into the air with casual grace. But when you step onto the sand in your bikini, his usual charm falters.

His red-on-black eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of you, walking toward the water with the sun hitting your skin just right. You look effortlessly stunning, the curves of your body accentuated by the swimsuit, and Remy can’t help but stare for a moment too long. He’s never been the kind of guy to be at a loss for words, but right now, he feels like someone just knocked the wind out of him.

"Mon dieu," he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he tries to regain his composure. But it’s no use—his heartbeat quickens, and his usual confidence wavers.

"Remy, you okay there?" Rogue’s voice breaks through his daze, and when he turns to look at her, she’s smirking, clearly enjoying the way he’s struggling to keep his cool. "Didn’t think I’d ever see you look so flustered."

Remy shoots her a playful glare, but there’s no hiding the flush creeping up his neck. "Ain’t flustered, cher," he says, but his voice lacks its usual smoothness.

Rogue chuckles, folding her arms across her chest. "Sure, sugar. Whatever you say."

Remy turns his attention back to you, watching as you laugh with some of the other X-Men, completely unaware of the effect you’re having on him. His chest tightens, and for the first time in a long time, Remy feels nervous. He’s always been confident, always known exactly what to say to charm someone, but with you, it’s different. There’s something real between you two, something that’s been simmering just below the surface for a while now, and it’s starting to drive him crazy.

The way your hips sway as you walk, the way your hair catches the sunlight—it’s all too much. He swallows hard, feeling the urge to go to you, to say something, to finally make a move. But he hesitates, unsure if now is the right time. The tension between you two is thick, and he’s not sure if pushing things further right now would be a good idea.

But then, you glance over at him, your eyes locking with his for just a second, and that’s all it takes. His heart skips a beat, and without thinking, he starts walking toward you, his usual swagger returning as he closes the distance between you two.

"Chère, y’ lookin’ like trouble today," he says, his voice low and smooth, though there’s a hint of nervous energy beneath the surface. He flashes you one of his trademark smiles, but this time, it’s a little more genuine, a little less playful.

You smile back, tilting your head slightly as you look up at him. "You sayin’ I’m too much for you to handle, Remy?"

He chuckles, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Ain’t no such thing as too much when it comes to you, mon amour."

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

The beach day was meant to be relaxing, a break from the chaos that usually surrounded the X-Men. Kurt had been enjoying himself, teleporting from spot to spot around the beach, sometimes splashing in the water with his teammates and other times just relaxing in the shade. But all of that changes the moment you step onto the sand in your bikini.

Kurt’s yellow eyes go wide, his tail twitching nervously as he watches you walk by, the sun making your skin glow in a way that makes his heart race. You look stunning, the curves of your body making it hard for him to focus on anything else. His usual calm demeanor falters, and he suddenly feels a little self-conscious. He’s always been drawn to you, but seeing you like this, so effortlessly beautiful, is almost too much for him.

He quickly teleports to the edge of the beach, trying to collect himself. His body is burning with a mix of desire and embarrassment, and he’s not sure how to handle it. Kurt has always been shy when it comes to you, his feelings never fully spoken aloud, but the tension between you has been building for a long time.

"Having a hard time there, Kurt?" Kitty’s voice comes from beside him, and he jumps slightly, his tail curling in surprise.

"Nein, nein," he stammers, though his cheeks are darkened with a deep blush. "I-I’m fine, really."

Kitty raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her face. "Uh-huh. Sure. It’s not like you’re staring or anything."

Kurt groans softly, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn’t… staring," he mutters, though he knows that’s not entirely true. He had been staring—he couldn’t help it. You were just so… beautiful. And the feelings he’d been trying to keep under control were getting harder to ignore.

Kitty pats him on the back. "Good luck, Kurt. Looks like you might need it," she says before walking away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Kurt takes a deep breath, his tail flicking nervously as he watches you from a distance. He wants to go to you, to say something, but he’s not sure how. The attraction between you two is undeniable, and he knows he can’t keep hiding how he feels forever.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

The beach was calm, a private retreat for the X-Men to take a rare day off from their usual chaotic lives. Scott had found a spot under the shade of a large umbrella, sunglasses in place, enjoying the peaceful sound of the waves. He liked the quiet moments, where he could allow himself to relax. You, on the other hand, had been excited from the moment the trip was planned, eager to embrace the sun and sea.

Scott wasn’t prepared for what happened next. When you stepped out from behind one of the large rocks, wearing a bikini that hugged your curves in all the right places, his thoughts came to a screeching halt. He tried to maintain his usual calm, controlled demeanor, but it was difficult. His jaw tightened as he watched you move, the sunlight highlighting your figure as you walked toward the water. You hadn’t noticed his reaction yet, your carefree laughter blending with the sound of the ocean.

He adjusted his sunglasses, glad they were hiding the way his gaze followed you. A part of him wanted to stand up, walk over, and say something clever, but he could feel the heat rising in his body, his usual control slipping. Scott’s hands clenched into fists, trying to focus on anything else, but it was no use.

"Havin’ a little trouble, Summers?" Logan’s gruff voice came from beside him, and Scott immediately stiffened, his head turning sharply to the side.

Logan was smirking, arms crossed, clearly enjoying Scott’s discomfort. "Didn’t think you’d be the type to get rattled over a swimsuit."

Scott let out a slow breath, his jaw clenched. "I’m not rattled," he replied, trying to sound composed, though his voice was a little too tight. He glanced back at you, who was now wading into the water, your body shimmering under the sunlight.

"Right," Logan said, his smirk widening. "Just… y’know, if you’re havin’ trouble keepin’ your cool, maybe it’s time you make a move before someone else does."

Scott didn’t respond, but Logan’s words stuck with him. The tension between you two had been building for months, and Scott knew it. He’d kept his distance, not wanting to complicate things, but seeing you now, so carefree and beautiful, was making it harder and harder to stay composed. He couldn’t help but feel protective, the thought of anyone else stepping in to win your affections gnawing at him.

As you swam further out into the water, Scott stood up from his spot under the umbrella, his heart racing as he made a decision. It was time to stop holding back.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

The beach wasn’t Erik’s usual scene. He preferred the cold steel of his lair or the sharp angles of his machines, but at the insistence of Charles and the others, he had agreed to join this rare moment of relaxation. He stood off to the side, watching the waves crash against the shore with a distant expression, his mind far from the present.

That is, until you emerged from one of the beach cabanas, dressed in a bikini that immediately drew his attention. Erik’s breath caught in his throat as he watched you walk across the sand, your beauty impossible to ignore. The way you carried yourself, the way the sunlight seemed to embrace you—it was enough to stir something deep within him, something primal.

You weren’t aware of his reaction, of the way his gaze followed you with an intensity he rarely allowed himself to feel. Erik prided himself on his control, on his ability to maintain a façade of indifference, but this… you… were making that increasingly difficult. His hand clenched at his side as he fought to maintain his composure, the magnetic energy around him humming softly in response to his heightened emotions.

"Quite the sight, isn’t she?" Charles’ voice broke through Erik’s thoughts, the familiar, calm tone both irritating and grounding at the same time.

Erik didn’t bother turning to look at his old friend, his eyes still locked on you as you dipped your toes into the water. "She always is," he replied, his voice lower than usual, filled with a tension that Charles undoubtedly noticed.

Charles chuckled softly, sensing the depth of Erik’s feelings. "You know, it wouldn’t hurt to let her know what she means to you."

Erik’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t a man prone to sentimentality, and yet, when it came to you, his defenses always seemed to waver. There had been an undeniable connection between you two for a long time, a mutual understanding of the world’s cruelty and beauty. But Erik had always hesitated to take that step, knowing the dangers that came with loving someone as fiercely as he wanted to love you.

"Sentiment is a weakness, Charles," Erik muttered, though even he didn’t fully believe it this time.

Charles shook his head, a small smile on his face. "Or perhaps, it’s the greatest strength of all."

As you turned and smiled in Erik’s direction, his heart skipped a beat. Maybe Charles was right. Maybe it was time to stop pretending that he didn’t feel anything. He wouldn’t allow the world to take this from him—not this time.

Warren Worthington III (Angel)

The sun was high in the sky, casting golden rays across the secluded beach where Warren had flown the X-Men for a much-needed break. With his wings stretched wide, Warren lounged on the soft sand, the sound of the waves providing a perfect backdrop to the otherwise peaceful day. He was the picture of relaxation, at least on the surface.

That all changed the moment you walked out of the changing cabana in your bikini.

His heart nearly stopped in his chest as he saw you, your skin glowing under the sunlight, your every movement graceful and captivating. Warren had always found you beautiful, but something about seeing you like this, so free and confident, stirred something deep within him. He tried to play it cool, lounging back as though he hadn’t just been struck dumb by the sight of you, but it was no use. His wings twitched, betraying his nervousness, and he felt his pulse quicken as you strolled toward the water.

Bobby, who had been building a sandcastle nearby, looked up at Warren with a wide grin. "Dude, you’re staring."

Warren blinked, snapping his gaze away from you as a flush crept up his neck. "I’m not staring," he said, though his voice didn’t quite carry the usual confidence.

Bobby snickered, leaning back on his hands. "Yeah, sure. Your wings are practically shaking, man."

Warren shot him a look, folding his wings a little tighter against his back in an attempt to regain control. "Mind your own business, Bobby," he muttered, though his eyes flicked back to you as you splashed playfully in the water, your laughter carrying on the breeze.

The truth was, Warren was having a hard time keeping his composure. The tension between you two had always been there, an unspoken attraction that neither of you had fully addressed, but seeing you like this, so effortlessly stunning, was making it impossible for him to ignore. His usual smooth charm faltered, and for the first time in a long while, Warren felt… vulnerable.

He wanted to go to you, to say something clever and sweep you off your feet the way he always imagined, but instead, he stayed rooted in place, unsure of how to approach the situation. His wings twitched again, and Bobby’s teasing laughter only made it worse.

"Come on, man," Bobby said, still grinning. "You’ve got wings. Just fly over there and make a move already."

Warren rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny the urge growing inside him. He wasn’t used to feeling this uncertain, but for you… it might be worth the risk. Standing up, he brushed the sand off his shorts, his wings unfolding as he glanced in your direction again. Maybe today was the day he’d finally stop hiding how he felt.

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

The beach was a blur of activity, mostly thanks to Pietro zipping around the shore, never able to sit still for more than a moment. You were used to his constant energy by now, but today, his focus seemed a little... off. It wasn’t until you stepped out of the changing room, wearing your new bikini, that you realized why.

Pietro froze mid-sprint, which was a rare occurrence for him. His eyes widened as they took you in, the gentle breeze tugging at your hair, the sunlight casting a warm glow on your skin. You smiled at him, completely unaware of the way his heart was practically racing even faster than usual. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool, but his usual cocky smirk faltered, replaced by a look of genuine surprise and awe.

"Wow," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "That’s... I mean... you look—"

Before he could finish, a sharp whistle came from nearby. You didn’t notice, but Pietro did. Logan, leaning against one of the palm trees, raised an eyebrow at the speedster. "You gonna stand there gawking all day or actually do something about it, kid?"

Pietro shot Logan a glare, his usual confidence slowly seeping back into place. "Mind your business, old man," he grumbled, though he could feel the tips of his ears burning. Logan chuckled, clearly enjoying the younger mutant's discomfort.

Pietro’s gaze returned to you as you walked toward the shoreline, blissfully unaware of the exchange. He could feel his pulse quicken as he watched you, his usual bravado faltering just a bit. He knew he should make a move, say something, anything to let you know how he felt, but for the first time in a long time, he found himself at a loss for words.

With a deep breath, he decided to make his move—faster than you could blink, he was at your side, the usual teasing grin back on his face. "You know," he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, "you’re making it really hard for me to concentrate on anything else right now."

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

Wanda Maximoff had always been intense, her emotions simmering just beneath the surface, controlled but always present. You knew that better than anyone, and today, as you stepped out onto the beach, you could feel that intensity directed at you in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

The beach was quiet, only a few of the X-Men scattered across the sand, but the moment Wanda saw you in that bikini, it was like the world fell away. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting slightly as she watched you walk toward the shore. You could feel her gaze on you, and it wasn’t just casual. It was hungry, a heat that made your skin prickle with awareness.

You waded into the water, letting the cool waves wash over your ankles, and when you turned back to look at her, you caught the moment she tore her eyes away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Wanda wasn’t one to lose control easily, but around you, it seemed she couldn’t help it.

"You’re staring," Pietro’s voice cut through the quiet, and you saw him lounging nearby, his usual smirk plastered on his face. "Not very subtle, sis."

Wanda shot him a glare that could have melted metal, but it didn’t stop him from chuckling. "Shut up, Pietro," she hissed, but the damage was done. Her composure was shaken, and now, she knew you had noticed.

Wanda stood up, brushing sand from her legs as she made her way toward you, her steps purposeful, but you could see the slight hesitation in her eyes. She was powerful, confident, but when it came to you, she seemed almost unsure, as if she wasn’t entirely certain how to handle the way she felt.

"You okay?" you asked, a small smile playing on your lips as she stopped beside you, her eyes locking onto yours.

"Fine," she replied quickly, too quickly, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Wanda..." You took a step closer, your voice soft. "You don’t have to hide how you feel."

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the tension between you was thick, almost suffocating. Wanda's fingers brushed against yours, and the simple touch sent a spark through you both. She didn’t say anything, but the look in her eyes said everything. You could see the desire, the need she had been trying to keep under control, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before she gave in.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

The beach was serene, with the waves gently lapping at the shore and the soft hum of the wind weaving through the trees. Jean was sitting on a towel, a relaxed smile on her face as she watched the others enjoy the rare day off. She hadn’t expected you to take her breath away, but that’s exactly what happened when you strolled down the sand in your bikini.

Jean’s eyes followed your every movement, her usually composed demeanor shaken for just a moment. You were stunning, the sun reflecting off your skin in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, though she tried to keep her expression neutral.

As you waded into the shallow water, Jean’s thoughts raced, and she struggled to maintain her usual control. The tension between the two of you had been growing for some time now, an unspoken attraction that was always there, simmering beneath the surface. She had always tried to keep her feelings in check, worried about the complications that might arise if she let them show. But now, seeing you like this, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the pull.

"She’s beautiful, isn’t she?" Scott’s voice broke through Jean’s thoughts, and she blinked, turning to look at him. He wasn’t teasing, just observant, and Jean felt a pang of jealousy twist in her chest. She quickly pushed it down, forcing a smile.

"She is," Jean replied softly, her eyes drifting back to you as you laughed, splashing in the water. "But it’s more than that. She just... has this energy."

Scott nodded, though he didn’t say anything more, leaving Jean alone with her thoughts. As you turned back to glance at her, your smile radiant, Jean felt her resolve begin to crack. Maybe it was time to stop hiding behind her fears and take a chance on what she truly wanted.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

The air around the beach was warm, with just the right hint of a breeze to keep things comfortable. Ororo had spent the morning making sure the weather was perfect for the outing, her powers ensuring a clear, sunny sky without a cloud in sight. She was standing near the water’s edge, her feet sinking into the sand, enjoying the peace of the day when she saw you.

The way the sunlight kissed your skin as you stepped onto the beach in a bikini left Ororo momentarily speechless. She had always known you were beautiful, but seeing you like this, so effortlessly confident and radiant, stirred something deep within her. She wasn’t the type to be easily rattled, always so in control of herself and her surroundings, but for a split second, she felt a crack in her calm exterior.

Your laughter reached her ears as you splashed into the water, completely unaware of the way Ororo’s gaze lingered on you. She could feel the tension building in her chest, a mixture of admiration and desire, though she maintained her poised stance. Ororo prided herself on her ability to remain level-headed, but the sight of you was testing that self-control.

"You okay, ‘Ro?" Rogue’s voice came from behind her, and Ororo turned, her serene expression back in place.

"Yes," she replied with a small smile, though her thoughts were still focused on you. Rogue followed her gaze and raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"Looks like someone’s got you a little distracted," Rogue teased lightly, nudging Ororo’s arm.

Ororo’s lips twitched into a soft smile, but she didn’t deny it. The truth was, she had been distracted by you for some time now, the connection between the two of you growing stronger with each passing day. She had always kept her feelings close to her chest, not wanting to let them cloud her judgment, but seeing you here now, so carefree and beautiful, made it harder to maintain her usual restraint.

As you waded further into the water, Ororo took a deep breath, her eyes softening. Maybe it was time to let go of the careful distance she had been keeping.

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angelltheninth · 3 days ago

Note

You know how guys have the happy trail? What do you think the MCU men's is like?

Gonna tell you something Anon, I love it when guys have that. It's cute and attractive.

Pairing: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Thor, Loki, James “Logan" Howlett, Remy Lebeau, Kurt Wagner, Tony Stark, Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, body worship, teasing, muscles, established relationship

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Probably one of the most attractive things on guys. At least to me. Other than strong hands.

Steve keeps himself very neat, not really because of you, not at first, it's just a habit that he still has from his army days. That being said he didn't miss the way you look at him when he does it. He knows you're looking so he takes his time.

Bucky is a bit more clumsy with it since losing his arm. His new one is good but it's cold on his skin when he needs to groom himself and be nice. But... maybe you can give him a hand when he needs it.

Clint doesn't bother with it much because he doesn't have much of a visible happy trail. It is there when you really look or run your hand down his abs. That being said he doesn't quite see why you like it so much, it's just body hair.

Thor never quite cared to keep himself overly well groomed or to cut down on any body hair. When he tried his hair grew back rougher, which you can feel as you touch his stomach. To him it was never something he had to think about, besides you like it.

Loki brags about how good he looks. Every part of him, even the happy trail which he always keeps well maintained. As he gets ready for bed he might take it slower, to give you time to look.

Logan has always been covered in a lot of rough, bushy hair and his happy trail is no different. For him it's like a path that you can follow as you kiss his body. In fact he has referred to it as that numerous time, making you blush at the implications.

Remy often gets asked if his hair is red everywhere, and yes it is. He chuckles when he tells you that you should check for yourself. Despite how he may seem he does keep himself well trimmed, from his belly all the way down.

Kurt does have a bit more hair there and it's quite soft and fluffy. It's one of the rare parts on his body that's not as cold as the rest of him. But it is quite dark, almost black in contrast with his blue skin.

Tony wants you to look at him as he gets changed. He wears his pants a bit lower when he knows he can work from home. Seeing you ready to kiss every inch of him won't make work easier.

Peter has a happy trail but it's a bit sparse. He doesn't have much body hair on his belly and is a bit ticklish when you touch him there. It's one of his weaknesses so he always blushes when you do it.

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gothicrazor · 4 months ago

Text

Okay, guess I'm doing a part two for Anything for you

#nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler x fem!reader #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner x fem!reader

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satansdarlin · 3 months ago

Text

Blue stained glass

While I work on the fourth chapter of a full deck of cards I also decided to write for another one of my boys! Welcoming Kurt Wagner to the stage! Apologies for any bad German, I'm still learning it and often forget that it is a gendered language so please forgive me.

MDNI

Rating: E

Word count: 8.3k

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x shy!artist!fem!reader

Warnings: reader being kinda stalkerish but not with bad intentions, implied that some of the students have harmless crushes on Kurt, Kurt being a flirt, smut! Because I missed writing it, Oral (fem receiving), PiV, mentions of Kurt's faith, you wife that man up!, pregnancy. Not beta read!

If you liked this check of my masterlist or put in a request if they are open

Golden light trickled in through the curtains as the sun set behind the school. The smell of dragon's blood incense wafted around the room in delicate wisps of smoke. The only sounds were the slight breeze outside and the dragging of bristles across canvas. You sat on the wooden stool, a slight hunch in your back you'd need to correct later with stretches. Your gaze followed along as you drew blue across the canvas. Blue had become a vital part of all your recent works, and you knew exactly why. Whenever you thought of art, flashes of blue fur, a spaded tail, the smell of sulfur, a silver cross, and a mischievous laugh filled your mind. You wouldn't call it obsession or infatuation. He was your muse. Not that he knew. How could you tell your teammate that he gave you such powerful inspiration? So the portfolio filled to the brim with artworks of just him remained hidden away under your bed.

Kurt Wagner. Everyone loved him. He was a friend worth keeping, made everything fun, always had the best ideas to keep the students entertained, and loved to chatter. Even Logan enjoyed his company from time to time. Kurt just had a way with people, with mutants. A few months back, you had a solo mission with him. It was awkward at first—the shy, quiet artist of the school and the impish chatterbox didn't know how to approach one another. In the end, the mission had concluded in giggles and soft-spoken words. Kurt was wonderful. That's why you couldn't understand why he kept insisting on spending time with you of all people. You were reserved, shy, introverted—the exact opposite of Kurt.

You had put the "Do Not Disturb" sign on your door before starting, hoping it would deter visitors. It did. Well, anyone who saw the sign didn't bother you; the same could not be said for the blue fuzzy imp. He didn't see it, to be fair. He had just gotten home from taking some students to the mall for shopping and wanted to show you the paints he had found, so he teleported. The smell of sulfur and the familiar BAMF sound filled your room, making your eyes widen comedically as you stared at the canvas. A painting of Kurt praying in a church with blue stained glass—one he was most certainly not supposed to see.

"Mein Freund, you would not believe the gift I have found for you— ah," his pleasant accent-tinted voice stalled as he gazed at your shape and then the painting before you. His eyes widened and filled with glee. "Oh mein Gott! Is that me? It's... it's—" he struggled to find the English word for a moment before settling on, "herrlich."

You stammered shyly as he walked up behind you, gazing at the painting with a smile that made your insides flutter like a thousand baby butterflies had hatched. "I... erm... yes, it's you, but it's not finished," you spoke hesitantly.

"Not finished?" Kurt moved closer, his tail swaying gently behind him in that way it did when he was truly excited about something. "But it's already so beautiful! The way you captured the light through the windows..." He leaned in, careful not to disturb your workspace, but close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. "I had no idea you were watching me pray."

Your cheeks burned hot. "I... I wasn't. Not really. I just... sometimes I sketch you when you're around the mansion, and I remembered how peaceful you looked that one time I passed by the chapel..." You trailed off, realizing you might be revealing too much.

Kurt's expression softened, and a knowing look crossed his features. "Then perhaps..." he said, reaching down to carefully take the brush from your trembling fingers, "you wouldn't mind showing me the other drawings?" His golden eyes flickered toward your bed, where your portfolio lay hidden.

Your heart nearly stopped. "You knew?"

A gentle laugh escaped him, musical and warm. "Mein Schatz, I may be a fool sometimes, but I'm not blind. I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching." He paused, his tail curling slightly in what you had learned was nervousness. "The same way I look at you when you're lost in your art."

The confession hung in the air between you, as tangible as the wisps of incense smoke still dancing through the golden evening light. You sat frozen, brush dripping blue paint onto the dropcloth below, as Kurt Wagner—your muse, your teammate, your secret inspiration—waited for your response with bated breath.

"You... look at me?" You whispered in shock and a tinge of disbelief. He looked at you like you looked at him? That sounded impossible, yet the way his tail curled in nervousness and his foot tapped against the ground told a different story.

Kurt's hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a gesture you'd seen countless times when he was trying to find the right words. "Ja, I do. More than I probably should." His voice was softer now, almost vulnerable. "When you're in the garden sketching, or during the art class with the students when you create those beautiful displays... The way your face lights up when you finally perfect a piece you've been working on..." He trailed off, a deeper blue tinting his cheeks.

Your heart thundered in your chest as he took a small step closer, his tail now swaying in a gentle, hypnotic pattern. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but..." He gestured to himself with a self-deprecating smile. "Well, I wasn't sure someone who creates such beauty would want..."

"Kurt," you interrupted, finding courage you didn't know you had. Standing from your stool, you reached for his hand, feeling the unique texture of his fur against your palm. "You are beauty. Why do you think I can't stop painting you?"

His golden eyes widened, and that brilliant smile you'd captured in countless sketches spread across his face. "Then perhaps," he said, bringing your joined hands up between you, "we've both been a bit foolish, ja?"

A small laugh escaped you, breaking the tension. "More than a bit." Your eyes drifted to the painting on the easel, then back to him. "Would you... would you like to see the others? The real ones, not just the ones I do for art class?"

Kurt's tail perked up, and he squeezed your hand gently. "I would love nothing more, mein Schatz. But first..." He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small paper bag. "I really did bring you something from the art store."

Inside was a set of iridescent blue paints that shifted colors in the dying sunlight, almost the exact shade of Kurt's fur when he moved. Your breath caught at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and when you looked up at him, his expression was so tender it made your heart ache.

"I saw them and thought of you," he admitted quietly. "Though I suppose I'm always thinking of you these days."

The confession hung in the air like a prayer, and you found yourself moving closer, drawn into his orbit like you'd always been, only now there was no need to hide it. The golden light that had started this evening's painting session now painted Kurt in warm hues, making him look almost ethereal—your own personal angel, right here in your art-cluttered room.

"Kurt," you whispered, not quite sure what you wanted to say, but knowing you needed to say something. The way he looked at you now, like you were one of his precious religious paintings come to life, made you understand why he'd always insisted on spending time with you. He'd been drawn to you just as you'd been to him, both of you dancing around each other in an elaborate routine of stolen glances and hidden feelings.

His tail curled gently around your wrist, as if he couldn't bear to not touch you in some way, and you realized that maybe this was what inspiration truly felt like—not just the desire to capture beauty, but to be part of it. With trembling hands, you knelt beside your bed, aware of Kurt's presence behind you as you reached underneath to pull out the large black portfolio case. Your heart hammered against your ribs—no one had ever seen these pieces before. They were raw, honest, intimate in a way your public artwork never was.

"I, um," you started, clutching the portfolio to your chest as you stood, "some of these are just quick sketches, and others aren't very good—"

"Liebling," Kurt interrupted gently, his tail swaying with barely contained excitement, "everything you create is wunderbar. May I?" He gestured to your bed, and you nodded, watching as he settled cross-legged on the corner, patting the space beside him.

You sat down carefully, the portfolio balanced on your lap. Kurt's warmth beside you was both comforting and nerve-wracking. Taking a deep breath, you unzipped the case and pulled out the first few pieces.

"Oh!" Kurt's delighted gasp made you jump slightly. His tail curled in pleasure as he leaned forward to study a charcoal drawing of himself perched on the mansion's balcony railing, looking out over the grounds. "I remember this day. It was right after that terrible thunderstorm, ja? When the sun finally came out?"

You nodded, surprised he'd remembered such a small moment. "The light was hitting your fur just right, and I couldn't help but..." you trailed off, embarrassed at admitting how much you'd observed him.

But Kurt was already reaching for the next piece, his golden eyes bright with wonder. "And this one!" It was a series of quick gesture sketches of him during a training session, his body in various poses of acrobatic grace. "You've captured the movement so perfectly. I had no idea you were watching so closely."

Your cheeks burned. "I hope that doesn't sound creepy."

His laugh was warm and genuine. "Nein, not at all. Though it does explain why you always volunteered to help supervise training." His tail brushed against your back playfully, making you squeak in surprise.

As you went through more pieces, your initial nervousness began to fade, replaced by a warm glow at Kurt's genuine enthusiasm for each drawing. He had a comment for every piece—remembering the moments you'd captured, praising your technique, asking questions about your process. His tail never stopped moving, expressing his excitement in a way his controlled expressions couldn't quite hide.

"This one," he breathed, carefully lifting a watercolor painting, "this is..." It was one of your favorites—Kurt in the library late at night, reading by lamplight, his tail curled around a cup of tea. You'd painted it from memory after watching him there one evening, trying to capture the peaceful contentment he radiated in those quiet moments.

"The way you see me," he said softly, tracing the air above the painting as if afraid to touch it, "it's so..."

"Real," you finished quietly. "That's just... how you look to me."

Kurt turned to face you then, and the expression on his face made your breath catch. "All this time," he murmured, "I thought I was alone in feeling this way. In seeing such beauty in someone else."

You ducked your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, but his tail gently curved under your chin, lifting it back up. "No hiding," he said softly. "Not anymore, ja?"

The portfolio slid forgotten to the floor as Kurt's hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch feather-light, as if he still couldn't quite believe he was allowed this. In the fading golden light of your room, surrounded by scattered artwork that told the story of your hidden feelings, Kurt Wagner looked at you like you were the masterpiece—not the artist. Time seemed to slow as Kurt's hand remained gentle against your cheek, his thumb brushing softly across your skin. Your heart was doing acrobatics that could rival his best performances, and you wondered if he could feel how warm your face had become.

"Mein Schatz," he whispered, leaning closer, "may I...?"

You could only manage a tiny nod, and then his lips were on yours, soft and sweet. The kiss was gentle, almost reverent, and you could feel his smile against your mouth. His tail curled around your waist, drawing you closer as your hands tentatively came up to rest against his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt and the steady beating of his heart beneath.

When you finally parted, you immediately buried your burning face in his shoulder, earning a warm chuckle that rumbled through his chest. "Hiding again so soon?" he teased, his accent thicker with emotion.

"Mmph," was all you could manage, which only made him laugh more.

"And here I thought artists were supposed to appreciate beautiful moments," he continued playfully, his tail squeezing your waist. "Perhaps I should pose for another painting? 'The First Kiss' would make a lovely addition to your collection, ja?"

You groaned and swatted his chest weakly. "Kurt!"

"Or maybe a series?" He was clearly enjoying himself now, his voice full of mischief. "We could call it 'The Evolution of Romance' or 'Love in Blue'—"

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face still flaming. "You're terrible."

His grin was radiant. "Terrible, but yours?" The hope in his voice made your heart flutter.

"Yeah," you whispered, managing a shy smile. "Mine."

"Wunderbar!" He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. "Though I must ask—do you have any paintings of our future together hidden away as well? Should I be prepared for more surprises?"

"Kurt Wagner!" You tried to sound scandalized, but you couldn't help laughing, especially when he waggled his eyebrows at you.

"What? It's a reasonable question! After all, you've been secretly documenting me for months. For all I know, you've already planned our wedding colors—blue and more blue, I assume?"

You grabbed a nearby pillow and tried to smack him with it, but he teleported across the room with a BAMF, leaving a cloud of sulfur and the echo of his laughter. He reappeared perched on your easel, careful not to disturb your painting, his tail swishing playfully.

"You know," he said, his golden eyes twinkling, "I think I prefer being your muse when I know about it. The poses can be much more interesting this way."

"Oh my god," you mumbled, falling back onto your bed and covering your face with your hands. But you couldn't hide your smile, especially when you felt the familiar displacement of air and suddenly had a warm, fuzzy mutant curled around you, pressing gentle kisses to your temple.

"Don't worry, Liebling," he murmured against your skin, his tail finding your hand and twining with your fingers. "I promise to be the best muse you could ask for. Though..." He paused dramatically, "I do have one condition."

You peeked through your fingers at him. "What's that?"

His smile softened into something so tender it made your chest ache. "That next time you paint me praying in the chapel, you'll be there with me. Some masterpieces are better created together, don't you think?"

This time, when you pulled him down for another kiss, you didn't hide your face afterward. After all, how could you when he was looking at you like that—like you were both the artist and the masterpiece, the muse and the creator, the beginning and end of something beautiful?

Though you did blush furiously when he later insisted on signing all your portraits of him with "Kurt Wagner, Professional Muse and Master of Stealing Artists' Hearts.”

The chatter of students filled the air and the sweet smell of honeysuckle surrounded you and your students. Truth be told, you hadn't even offered to do this job; teaching the art class wasn't something that had ever been on your mind, but Charles had asked you to do so, saying it would be good for the students to have an outlet for their emotions. Though teaching a bunch of mutant teenagers wasn't particularly easy, especially when half of them wanted to be in the danger room training to be X-Men—you probably got more questions about that than actual art.

"Your piece should be about expression. There is no right or wrong, only your feelings about your art," you spoke gently as you walked by the students settled in the grass of the gardens behind the school. A hand rose up and you looked over and nodded at the boy, Damian you believed his name was.

"Excuse me, but how exactly is painting helping us prepare for anything?" You sighed at the boy's question as he got some chastising nudges from some of your more kind students. You got that question about every class.

Before you could answer, a familiar BAMF sound and the scent of sulfur announced Kurt's arrival. He appeared perched on the garden wall, his tail swaying as he grinned at the class. Several students brightened immediately—Kurt had always been a favorite among them.

"Ah, but that is where you are wrong, mein junger Freund," Kurt said, gracefully flipping down to land beside you. His shoulder brushed yours in a subtle show of support that made your heart flutter, even after months of being together. "Art teaches us more than you might think. Strategy, patience, observation..." He winked at you before continuing, "How do you think I learned to move so efficiently in battle? By understanding space, movement, and perception—all things your talented teacher here helped me improve."

A few students giggled, well aware of your relationship with the blue mutant. It had become something of a school legend how you'd been caught with a portfolio full of Kurt drawings. Some of the older students even insisted they'd known all along, claiming they'd seen the way you both looked at each other during training sessions.

"Besides," Kurt continued, picking up one of the spare brushes from your supply kit and twirling it like one of his swords, "did you know that Leonardo da Vinci used his artistic skills to design defense systems? Or that camouflage patterns were created by artists? Even the maps we use for missions were drawn by artists."

Damian sat up straighter, suddenly looking more interested. "Really?"

You smiled, grateful for Kurt's intervention. "Really. And speaking of missions..." You shared a knowing look with Kurt before addressing the class. "Who wants to hear about the time my sketching skills helped us locate a hidden Sentinel facility?"

"Oh, tell them about the warehouse in Berlin!" Kurt added enthusiastically, his tail curling around your waist as he settled beside you. "When you noticed the architectural inconsistencies in my reconnaissance sketches?"

The students were all paying attention now, art supplies temporarily forgotten as they leaned in to hear the story. Even Damian had put down his phone, his previous skepticism replaced with curiosity.

"Well," you began, feeling Kurt's tail squeeze encouragingly, "it started when we noticed some unusual energy signatures in an old industrial district..."

As you recounted the mission, Kurt occasionally chimed in with his own colorful commentary, making the students laugh with his dramatic reenactments. You couldn't help but smile, watching him demonstrate his acrobatic moves while describing how your artistic knowledge had helped spot the hidden entrance.

"And that," Kurt concluded, landing gracefully beside you again, "is why we should never underestimate the power of art. Or artists." He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, making several students coo and others playfully groan at the display of affection.

"Mr. Wagner," one of the girls called out, a mischievous glint in her eye, "are you going to model for our class like you do for the teacher?"

Your face immediately heated up as Kurt laughed delightedly. "Sadly, I'm needed in the danger room. Though..." He grinned at you, that familiar impish look in his golden eyes, "I do have a private session scheduled later."

"Kurt!" you hissed, mortified as the students erupted in giggles.

He merely winked, pressed another quick kiss to your cheek, and teleported away with a theatrical bow, leaving you to face your amused students with burning cheeks.

"Now then," you said, trying to regain some semblance of professional dignity despite your flushed face, "back to your projects. And no, Jenny, you cannot paint Mr. Wagner for your assignment—pick a different subject."

The disappointment on several faces told you that more than one student had been planning exactly that. You couldn't really blame them though. After all, you had an entire portfolio that proved just how inspiring a subject Kurt Wagner could be. After the lingering giggles from Kurt's dramatic exit finally subsided, you circled back through your students, the grass crunching softly beneath your feet. The afternoon sun warmed your shoulders as you paused to observe their work, offering gentle guidance where needed.

"Sarah," you said, stopping beside a girl whose hands were literally glowing as she painted, her mutation allowing her to create luminescent colors, "that's beautiful. The way you're using your powers to add depth to the sunset—very creative." Her beaming smile made your heart warm; it was moments like these that reminded you why Charles had been right about teaching.

Moving on, you found Marcus struggling with his brushstrokes, his extra set of arms getting in the way of each other. "Try coordinating them like we practiced," you suggested softly. "Remember, each hand can work on a different section. Think of it like... like when Kurt coordinates his tail with his movements during training."

The mention of Kurt made a few nearby students glance up with knowing smirks, but you ignored them, focusing on how Marcus's face lit up with understanding. Within minutes, all four of his hands were working in harmony, creating an intricate pattern that would have taken others four times as long to complete.

"Teacher?" A quiet voice drew your attention to Amy, a shy freshman whose scales tended to change color with her emotions—currently a nervous purple. "I... I don't know if this is good enough." She gestured to her canvas where she'd painted a self-portrait, her scales rendered in beautiful iridescent shades.

You knelt beside her, careful not to disturb her workspace. "What makes you think it's not good enough?"

"It's just..." she glanced around at her classmates' work, her scales shifting to a deeper purple. "Everyone else is painting normal things. Beautiful things. I painted... me."

"Amy," you said gently, thinking of all the times you'd doubted your own artwork, of all the paintings of Kurt you'd hidden away because you thought they were too revealing, too personal. "Do you remember what Kurt said in his last ethics class about beauty?"

Her scales flickered with hints of pink—she had a bit of a crush on Kurt, like half the school. "That it comes in all forms?"

"Exactly. And look—" you pointed to how the light caught her painting's scales, creating rainbow patterns across the canvas. "You've captured something uniquely beautiful. Something only you could create, because only you know exactly how those scales feel, how they shift and change. That's not just good art, that's powerful art."

The purple of her scales gradually shifted to a warm golden hue as she smiled, looking at her painting with new eyes. Around you, other students had paused to listen, and you saw several of them return to their work with renewed purpose.

"Damian," you called out, noticing he'd actually started painting instead of just complaining, "excellent use of perspective on that building. Been practicing your architectural sketches?"

He tried to look nonchalant, but you caught his pleased grin. "Yeah, well... after what you said about the Berlin mission... I figured it might be useful. You know, for future X-Men stuff."

"Hey, teacher?" Jenny piped up, paint smudged adorably across her cheek. "Since we can't paint Mr. Wagner, could you tell us more about how art helped on missions while we work? Please?"

A chorus of agreements rose from the class, and you couldn't help but smile. "Alright, but keep painting. There was this one time in Moscow when my knowledge of color theory helped us identify a shapeshifter..."

As you shared the story, moving between easels and offering guidance, you noticed how the students' work seemed to come alive. Even the most reluctant artists were engaged now, their creativity flowing as they listened to tales of how art and heroism could intertwine.

The smell of honeysuckle grew stronger as the afternoon wore on, mixing with paint and teenage enthusiasm. A flash of blue in your peripheral vision caught your attention—Kurt, watching proudly from a nearby window between his training sessions. He blew you a kiss before disappearing again, leaving you with paint-stained fingers and a garden full of budding artists who were finally beginning to understand that there was more than one way to be extraordinary.

"Teacher?" Amy called out, her scales now a confident shade of blue that reminded you of someone special. "I think I'd like to do another self-portrait. Maybe... maybe one of me in an X-Men uniform this time?"

You smiled, thinking of your own portfolio of Kurt, of how art had led you to love, and how that love had led you here, helping these young mutants find their own way to express their unique beauty. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Amy. Just remember—"

"We know, we know," the class chorused together, matching your grin, "there is no right or wrong, only our feelings about our art!”

Evening had settled over the mansion, the last rays of sunlight painting your studio in familiar golden hues. The day's classes were done, art supplies cleaned and stored away, and you'd finally managed to stop blushing from Kurt's teasing comments during your lesson. You were just setting up your easel when the familiar BAMF announced his arrival.

"Ah, mein Schatz," Kurt's voice was warm as he appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tail curling affectionately around your ankle. "Ready for our 'private session'?" You could hear the playful smirk in his voice.

"You," you turned in his arms to poke his chest accusingly, "are terrible. Do you know how many knowing looks I got from the students after you left?"

He laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I couldn't help myself. You're adorable when you blush. Speaking of which..." His tail reached over to your desk, picking up your sketchbook and flipping it open to reveal today's quick sketches of him during his brief visit to your class. "Someone was inspired during their teaching duties, ja?"

"Kurt!" You tried to snatch the sketchbook, but he teleported across the room, perching on the window seat as he continued flipping through pages.

"Oh, this one is new!" He held up a sketch of himself demonstrating acrobatic moves to your students. "You captured my best side."

"All your sides are your best side," you mumbled before you could stop yourself, then immediately covered your face with your hands as he teleported back to you, gathering you close.

"Is that so?" he murmured against your ear. "Then perhaps we should make sure you have proper reference material for all of them?" His tail gently pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his tender gaze. "Now then, how would you like me to pose, Liebling?"

You gestured weakly to the arrangement you'd set up—a comfortable chair positioned near the window, where the last of the sunset would cast those perfect shadows you loved to capture. "Just... sitting would be nice. Natural. Like when you're reading in the library."

Kurt's expression softened as he settled into the chair, understanding your desire to capture one of your favorite quiet moments. He pulled out a small book of poetry—Rilke, you noticed—and arranged himself comfortably, his tail draped over the armrest.

"Like this?" he asked, and you nodded, already reaching for your charcoal. This was familiar territory now, though no less special than those first secret sketches. If anything, it was more intimate—knowing he was here specifically for you, watching you create, sharing these peaceful moments together.

As you began to sketch, Kurt started reading aloud softly in German, his accent wrapping around the words like silk. You'd grown to love these evenings, the gentle cadence of his voice mixing with the scratch of charcoal on paper, the way his tail would occasionally twitch in response to a particular phrase or stanza.

"You know," he said during a pause between poems, his golden eyes meeting yours over the top of his book, "I used to wonder why you chose me as your subject so often. Now I think I understand."

You paused in your sketching, curious. "Oh?"

"Ja. It's the same reason I can't stop watching you when you create." He marked his place in the book and leaned forward slightly. "There's something magical about seeing someone doing what they love, being exactly who they are meant to be. You see me that way when I move, when I pray, when I simply exist. And I see you that way when you're lost in your art."

The charcoal trembled slightly in your fingers as he continued, "It's like seeing someone's soul, isn't it? Their truest self?"

You nodded, unable to find words for how perfectly he'd captured it. Kurt rose from the chair in one fluid movement, crossing to where you stood. His hand covered yours on the charcoal, bringing it to rest against the easel.

"Perhaps," he whispered, turning you to face him, his tail wrapping around your waist, "we could find other ways to capture this moment?"

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that tasted of poetry and promises. The charcoal slipped forgotten from your fingers as you wound your arms around his neck, letting yourself get lost in the overwhelming rightness of being held by him.

When you finally parted, Kurt rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Though I do hope you'll finish the sketch later. I have a reputation as Professional Muse to maintain, after all."

You laughed, the sound mixing with his own quiet chuckle in the golden evening light of your studio, where art and love had become beautifully, perfectly intertwined.

"So how do you wish to capture this moment, hm?" You hummed up at him with a new sense of courage.

Kurt's yellow eyes sparkle with mischief and desire as he gazes down at you, his tail gently squeezing your waist. The sunset light casts a warm glow on your skin, highlighting the delicate curve of your neck and the soft fullness of your lips. He leans in, his breath ghosting over your skin as he speaks.

"There are so many ways, mein Schatz..." he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "We could start with a kiss..."

And he does, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. His lips are surprisingly soft against yours, moving with a passion and tenderness that sets your heart racing. One hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, while the other slides down your back, pressing you closer to him.

When he finally pulls away, you're both breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed and your eyes dark with desire. Kurt's tail tightens around you, keeping you anchored against him as he trails his lips along your jaw, nipping lightly at your earlobe.

"Or perhaps," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "you'd like to capture the way my hands feel on your skin?"

Without waiting for an answer, he begins to unbutton your shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he reveals more and more of your body to his hungry gaze. Each touch sends sparks of electricity through you, igniting a fire that only seems to grow with each passing second.

As your shirt falls to the floor, Kurt takes a step back, his eyes roving hungrily over your newly exposed skin. His gaze is almost reverent, as if he's drinking in every inch of you like a man dying of thirst.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his voice filled with awe and desire. "You're absolutely perfect, Meine Liebe."

His hands come up to cup your breasts, thick fingers brushing over your hardening nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he begins to circle and tease, building the pleasure slowly but surely. Kurt's hands continue their sensual exploration of your body, tracing every curve and dip with a reverence that makes your skin tingle. He leans down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin.

"I want to worship every inch of you," he murmurs against your throat, his voice rough with desire. "To show you how much you mean to me."

His fingers find the clasp of your bra, deftly unhooking it and sliding the straps down your shoulders. The garment falls away, baring your breasts to his eager gaze. Kurt pauses for a moment, simply drinking in the sight of you, before cupping the weight of your breasts in his palms.

"Perfektion," he breathes, thumbing your nipples until they pebble beneath his touch. He lowers his head, taking one nipple into his mouth and suckling gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

You gasp at the sensation, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair, holding him close. Kurt continues his ministrations, alternating between your breasts, licking and sucking and nipping until you're writhing against him, desperate for more.

His hands drift lower, skimming over your stomach and hips before dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. He strokes you through the damp fabric of your underwear, his touch light and teasing.

"So wet already," he marvels, his voice thick with arousal. "You're so responsive, mein Schatz. So perfect."

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your pants and underwear, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion. You kick them off impatiently, standing before him in nothing but your socks and shoes.

Kurt takes a step back, his eyes raking over your naked form with undisguised hunger. He licks his lips, his tail swishing behind him in anticipation.

"Lie down on the couch," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I want to taste you." You obey without hesitation, settling into the plush cushions immediately.

Kurt follows you to the couch, his eyes never leaving your body as he crawls over you, settling between your spread thighs. He runs his hands up your legs, his touch light and teasing, until he reaches the apex of your thighs.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, spreading your folds with his fingers and exposing your glistening flesh to his hungry gaze. "I can't wait to taste you."

He leans down, dragging his tongue along your slit in one long, slow lick. The sensation is electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. You gasp, your hips lifting off the couch as you seek more of his touch.

Kurt chuckles, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. He looks up at you through his lashes, his yellow eyes gleaming with mischief and desire.

"Patience, mein Schatz," he teases, blowing a cool stream of air over your wet heat. "We have all the time in the world."

And then he's diving back in, his tongue delving deep into your core, lapping at your essence like a man starved. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking over the sensitive bud again and again until you're writhing beneath him, desperate for release.

His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as he feasts on your flesh, his groans of pleasure muffled against your skin. The room fills with the obscene sounds of his licking and sucking, punctuated by your own breathy moans and gasps.

Kurt brings a hand up to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen nub as he continues to tongue-fuck your dripping cunt. The dual stimulation is too much, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with each passing second.

"That's it, Kleine," he encourages, his voice rough with arousal. "Let go. Come for me."

His words are all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You cry out, your hands fisting in Kurt's hair as waves of pleasure crash over you, threatening to drown you in their intensity.

Kurt works you through it, his tongue and fingers never faltering as he prolongs your climax, drawing out every last shudder and gasp until you're boneless and spent, collapsing back against the couch in a sweaty, satisfied heap.

He presses one last kiss to your sensitive flesh before crawling up your body, settling his weight on top of you. His erection presses insistently against your thigh as he wiggles off his pants, hot and hard and ready for you.*

"I need you, meine Engel," he breathes, his voice thick with desire. "I need to be inside you."

He reaches down between your bodies, grasping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. You can feel the heat of him, the pulsing need that throbs against your slick folds.

With one swift thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely. You cry out at the sudden stretch, your walls clenching around him like a vice.

"Fuck, you're tight," Kurt groans, his hips rocking against yours as he begins to move. "So perfect. So gut."

He sets a steady rhythm, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, his cock hitting depths you didn't even know you had. Each thrust sends sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, igniting a fire in your core that threatens to consume you whole. Your heart flutters hearing him slur out German and English in a pleasure drunken haze. Kurt's tail wraps around your legs, holding them open wide as he pistons into you, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your shared moans and gasps.

"So good," he pants, his face buried in your neck as he laves his tongue over your pulse point. "So perfekt. So mine."

His words send a shiver down your spine, igniting a possessive heat in your core. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into your body with each thrust.

"Yours," you gasp, your nails digging into the fur of his back. "All yours, kurt"

Kurt growls, low and deep, his tail tightening around your legs as he pounds into you with abandon. The couch creaks beneath your combined weight, threatening to give way under the force of his thrusts.

"Ich liebe dich," he slurs, his words muffled against your skin. "Love you so much. Need you. Need to be inside you forever."

His confession sends you careening over the edge, your body seizing up as another orgasm rips through you. You clench around him, your walls fluttering and spasming as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

"Fuck, Prinzessin," Kurt groans, his hips stuttering as he chases his own release. "Feel so good. So perfect. Gonna come. Gonna fill you up."

With a final, bruising thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your waiting womb. You can feel the heat of his seed, the way it paints your insides, marking you as his.

He collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the cushions as he pants against your neck. His tail unwinds from your legs, draping lazily over your thigh as he nuzzles into your hair.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice soft and sated. "My perfect girl. Meine schöne Künstlerin."

You smile, your heart full to bursting with love and contentment.

Nearly a year later

The chapel was quiet save for the soft whisper of your pencil across paper. Early morning light filtered through the stained glass windows, casting familiar blue patterns across the wooden pews. Kurt knelt at the altar in prayer, his tail curved peacefully behind him, rosary beads wrapped gently around his three-fingered hands.

You'd grown comfortable here in these morning moments, sharing this sacred space with him. What had once felt like an intrusion now felt like belonging. Your sketchbook was filled with these quiet scenes—Kurt in prayer, Kurt reading his Bible, Kurt simply existing in this place that meant so much to him. But this morning was different. This morning, your hand trembled slightly as you drew, your mind wandering to the small box hidden in your art supplies.

It had taken weeks to create, working late into the night in your studio after Kurt had fallen asleep. A hand-carved wooden ring box, painted with delicate scenes from your relationship—the first time you'd been caught painting him, your first kiss, teaching art class together, quiet moments in the chapel. The ring inside was simple silver, engraved with tiny crosses and artist's brushes intertwined.

"You're thinking very loudly this morning, Liebling," Kurt's voice startled you from your thoughts. He hadn't moved from his position, but his tail swayed knowingly.

"Sorry," you mumbled, adding another shadow to your sketch. "Didn't mean to disturb your prayers."

"You never disturb me," he said softly, finally turning to face you with that gentle smile that still made your heart skip. "Though I am curious what has you so distracted. Usually you're much more focused when drawing in here."

You set down your sketchbook with trembling fingers. "Actually, I... I have something for you."

Kurt's eyebrows rose curiously as you reached into your art bag, pulling out the painted box. His golden eyes widened as you stood and walked to him, kneeling beside him at the altar.

"Kurt Wagner," you began, your voice shaky but determined, "you've been my muse, my inspiration, my best friend, and the love of my life. You've shown me that beauty exists in so many forms, that faith can be found in art just as much as prayer, and that love..." you had to pause, swallowing hard as his tail curled around your wrist encouragingly, "love can be both the masterpiece and the creation itself."

You opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. "Would you let me spend the rest of my life creating with you?"

Kurt's breath caught as he took in the painted scenes on the box, his fingers trailing reverently over the tiny details you'd spent so long perfecting. When he looked up, his eyes were shining with tears.

"Mein Gott," he whispered, "you've managed to surprise the teleporter." His tail tightened around your wrist as he pulled you closer, pressing his forehead to yours. "Did you really think there could be any answer but yes? You are the greatest masterpiece God has ever placed in my life."

Your laugh was watery as you slipped the ring onto his finger, a perfect fit just as you'd hoped. Kurt cradled your face in his hands, his touch infinitely gentle.

"Though I must say," he murmured, his accent thick with emotion, "you've rather stolen my thunder, Liebling." With his tail, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, making you gasp. "I was planning to ask you after morning mass."

Inside was a delicate gold ring with a blue sapphire that matched his fur perfectly. "Great minds think alike, ja?"

You couldn't speak through your tears as he slipped the ring onto your finger, but you didn't need to. The way you pulled him into a kiss said everything necessary, the morning light painting you both in shades of blue and gold through the stained glass windows.

"I can't wait to see how you'll paint this moment," Kurt whispered against your lips, making you laugh.

"Already planning it," you admitted. "Though I might need my muse to pose for several reference sketches."

His tail wrapped around your waist as he grinned. "I believe that can be arranged. After all..." he pressed another soft kiss to your lips, "we have the rest of our lives to perfect it."

Through the chapel windows, the morning light continued to paint you both in blues and golds, artist and muse, two hearts creating something beautiful together. And if anyone noticed that your afternoon art class was especially romantic that day, well... they were kind enough not to mention it. Though you did have to tell Jenny, once again, that no, she still couldn't paint Mr. Wagner for her assignment—even if he was now your fiancé.

You woke up to soft snores and looked over, unable to help but smile softly. Your husband's sleeping face was too cute to not smile at. After five years of being married, you'd never grow tired of waking up to this. Recently he had taken to growing out a goatee, saying it made him look more mature (you couldn't help but agree—after all, it made your mind wander a lot too). You carefully pulled out of his embrace without waking him; his tail was always a struggle to remove from its place around your leg without waking him, but you managed it. After a small silent dance of triumph, you moved out of your shared bedroom to the room across from it.

The room was halfway painted, though you had been working on it for the past six months. It had paintings of stories and family littered across it—scenes from Kurt's favorite fairy tales, the X-Men as loving aunts and uncles, even a small portrait of Professor Xavier smiling benevolently from above the planned crib space. You picked up a brush and were about to continue when you accidentally kicked a paint bucket. That's all it took, and with a sudden puff of smoke your husband had teleported in, his stance ready for action but relaxing when he saw it was just you up early.

"Mein Gott, woman, I thought you were a thief!" He exclaimed, holding his three-fingered hand over his chest before walking over with a soft tired smile and pecking your lips. "You're up early, I don't even hear the morning birds yet."

"Needed to stretch my legs," you hummed back, and he hummed softly in suspicion. His hand rested on your stomach.

"Are you sure it is not because of the Kleine?" He spoke in a teasing voice as he gently rubbed your stomach.

You leaned back against his chest, letting his warmth seep into you as you both gazed at the wall you'd been painting. His tail automatically wrapped around your waist, just above where your small baby bump was beginning to show. "Maybe," you admitted. "I just... I want it to be perfect before they arrive."

Kurt nuzzled against your neck, his goatee tickling your skin. "Liebling, with you as their mother, how could it be anything but perfect?" His hand joined yours on the brush. "Though perhaps we could add a few more acrobatic scenes? A future X-Man should know their father's best moves, ja?"

You laughed softly, mindful of the early hour. "Kurt, we don't even know if they'll be able to teleport yet."

"Ah, but they're already showing artistic talent!" He moved to stand beside you, gesturing dramatically at your stomach. "Look how perfectly they've rounded out your usually straight lines!"

"Did you just call me fat, Mr. Wagner?" you asked with mock offense.

His eyes widened comically. "Nein! Never! I merely meant to say you're more... sculptural these days?" His tail flicked nervously as he tried to backtrack, making you giggle.

"Saved it," you murmured, turning back to the wall. You'd been working on a particular scene—a small blue figure learning to teleport while protective arms waited to catch them. "Do you really think they'll like it? All of this?"

Kurt's arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he surveyed your work. "Mein Schatz, they will love it. Just as they will love you." His hand splayed protectively over your stomach. "Though perhaps we should add a small easel next to the training equipment? Best to be prepared for all possibilities."

You turned in his arms, brush still in hand, accidentally leaving a small blue streak across his chest. "Oops."

His grin turned mischievous. "Oh? Is that how we're playing this morning?" He reached for another brush. "You know, the wall isn't the only canvas in need of some color..."

"Kurt Wagner, don't you dare—" But it was too late. With a playful BAMF, he was behind you, painting a gentle heart on the back of your nightshirt.

What followed was a careful (mindful of your condition) but enthusiastic paint war, filling the nursery with quiet laughter and colorful streaks. By the time the sun began to rise, you were both covered in paint, sitting on the drop cloth and admiring your handiwork—both on the walls and each other.

"You know," Kurt mused, his tail drawing abstract patterns in a small paint puddle, "this might be your best work yet."

You looked around at the cheerful chaos you'd created together—the story-filled walls, the paint-splattered drop cloths, the mixing of your artistic vision with his playful additions. Your hand found his, fingers intertwining as they rested on your growing bump.

"No," you said softly, "I think our best work is still in progress."

His answering smile was brighter than the rising sun, and as he pulled you in for a paint-smudged kiss, you couldn't help but think that sometimes the most beautiful art came from life itself—messy, unexpected, and absolutely perfect.

Though you did make him clean up the paint footprints he'd teleported all over the mansion before the students woke up. Your gaze went over to the window which Kurt had helped you place the stain on. The blue hues glittered over the room and it filled you with a sense of love and happiness. Blue would always be apart of your life now, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

#fluff #smut fanfiction #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler #xmen x reader #kurt wagner #kurt wagner smut #nightcrawler smut #xmen nightcrawler

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marcyvamp1re-blog · 3 months ago

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LURKS WITHIN WALLS

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Kurt Wagner x Mutant! Reader.

¿Request? No!

This is a Headcanon!

warnings ⸺ mdni! Dark themes, violence/death, blood, insolation, invasion of privacy, religion, scars, ¿kidnapping?, delusion, Angst, ¿OOC Kurt? Idk, murdering, Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

sinopsis ⸺ Beneath Kurt Wagner's sweet charm lies a dark and obsessive devotion. What begins as an innocent friendship transforms into a web of jealousy, manipulation, and constant surveillance. As he envelops you with his suffocating love, he lurks in the shadows, determined to protect you from everyone... even those who could be your friends. To Kurt, you are his angel, and he will not allow anything or anyone to take you away from his side, even if it means destroying everything you love.

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is— I have adored Kurt since I was a child. He is my favorite X-Men after Logan, who has also been my favorite since the Ultimate Alliance 1 game and from the movies (Simply Hugh Jackman). I've always been curious about what it would be like if he were yandere.

Well, this is the first Marvel post, and I hope you liked it because I can't be all about DC all the time since I am multifandom and I'm really eager to write about everything.

Enjoy!

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... since the first night on the rooftop, under that blanket of stars, felt you as a blessing fallen from the sky. At first, his interest seemed innocent, a special connection between two misunderstood souls in the X-Mansion. Every time they shared those silent nights watching the sky, Kurt started to feel that you were his anchor, his reason to smile in a world full of chaos. "It's so peaceful here with you" he told you one night, with undeniable tenderness in his voice. But within his chest, a darker feeling began to take root.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... at first just wanted to see you happy. When he suddenly appeared in the places where you were, like in the library or the dining room, his eyes shone at the sight of your smile. However, he soon realized that he didn't want to share those moments with anyone else. The joy that surrounded you when you were with Rogue, Kitty, or Bobby disturbed him. "Why them?" he thought, increasingly distressed. They didn't understand your soul like he did. They didn't see the same angel in you that he saw. So he began to teleport secretly to watch you from the shadows, making sure you were safe... and ensuring that no one else got too close.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... began to stalk you silently from the walls of the Mansion, watching you when you thought you were alone. At first, he just wanted to ensure that you were safe, but soon he discovered that simply seeing you in your everyday moments, without you knowing he was there, became an addiction. From the shadows, he watched as you sat at your desk, reading or writing in your diary, how you groomed yourself in front of the mirror, or laughed carefree with your new friends. Everything you did was perfect; every little gesture was a work of art that he could not stop contemplating. It was his way of being close to you, of being present in every second of your life.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... one rainy afternoon saw you dozing in the common room, exhausted from training. While the others chatted, Kurt, hidden in the shadows, watched you with eyes full of devotion, completely still to avoid revealing his presence. The others didn't notice his proximity, but he felt every breath you took, every slight movement of your lips as you dreamed. "You are a fallen angel from heaven," he thought, his fingers trembling with the desire to get closer, but holding back. That distance, that invisible gap, drove him crazy, but it also filled him with ecstasy. Knowing that only he could see you that way, vulnerable and peaceful, made him feel that he belonged to you more than anyone else.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... one night, while you were showering in the Mansion's bathroom, teleported to a dark corner, just to see you through a crack in the wall. The water droplets slid down your skin; every movement of your body was a living poem that only he could read. He felt his breath hitch, and although he knew this was wrong, he couldn't stop. In his mind, he was there to protect you, to ensure that nothing harmed you, not even in those intimate moments. "No one will see you like I do," he whispered to himself. "No one will love you like I love you."

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... lurked in the shadows, watching how you talked and laughed with your friends in the dining room. From the walls, hidden, jealousy boiled within him as another mutant, a boy who had invited you to train with him, made you smile. Every smile you gave to someone else felt like a stab. From his corner, Kurt whispered words that no one else could hear, "They don't understand you, my Engel. Not like I do." In his mind, those moments you shared with others were thefts, emotional burglaries that took away what was his.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... in the darkest nights, watched you sleep, sitting on the edge of the bed, his shadow barely visible in the dimness of the room. He called you his "Angel," but in his darkest thoughts, you knew that this love was a prison. Every night, he whispered words of eternal love, words that sounded like promises and threats at the same time. "I will never let you go, Mein Schatz" he repeated, and although his words were sweet, there was a darkness behind them that enveloped you in a sense of impending danger, as if you were trapped in a corrupt fairy tale, where the prince would never let his princess escape.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... one fateful night, after seeing you laugh with another, could no longer contain his frustration. He teleported to your friend's room, just a few seconds after he turned off the lights. In the shadows, Kurt watched him sleep, his breath heavy and innocent. "You are not worthy of her," he murmured before disappearing into the night, leaving a sense of unease in the air, as if the walls had whispered his condemnation.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... one early morning slipped into your room while you were sleeping. He stood by your bed, watching you in the soft glow of the moon that filtered through the window. You looked so at peace, so pure. Kurt couldn't help but lean in, and gently, he brushed his fingers close to your hair, without actually touching you. His breath was almost inaudible, but his eyes were filled with a feverish intensity. "You are mine, Liebling" he whispered almost inaudibly, the words floating in the air like an eternal promise. As he disappeared from your room, his heart beat with a dark satisfaction.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... began leaving small gifts in your room, things he knew would make you happy, but without revealing they were from him. A book you mentioned wanting to read, a mysteriously fresh blue flower on your pillow, all carefully planned to make you feel special. When you asked the others if they had left anything for you, Kurt, smiling in the shadows, delighted in the idea that these invisible gestures were his way of slowly possessing you, without you knowing.

Yandere Kurt Wagner who... on one occasion, while training with Logan, stayed watching from the upper beams of the gym, his body pressed against the shadows of the ceiling. The way Logan corrected your movements or guided you made him boil inside. In his mind, every touch was a transgression, every word an attempt to pull you away from him. "Don't let them confuse you, my angel," he thought as his claws dug into the steel structure, holding back. "No one else has the right to you... only I do." His obsession intensified with each passing day. "He doesn't understand you like I do." Although you tried to calm him, something in his eyes made you feel uneasy for the first time.

Yandere Kurt Wagner who... didn't take long to act when another of your training partners, a young man with powers similar to yours, began to spend more time with you. The boy seemed nice, and you enjoyed his company, but Kurt couldn't stand it. He started to watch every one of his movements, making sure he wasn't a threat to you... or to him. One night, he simply disappeared. The entire Mansion searched for him in vain, but Kurt already knew the truth. "You are safe now, Schatz" he told you softly as he hugged you by the shoulders. You didn't need that boy, or anyone else, just him.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... decided that the only way to fully protect you was to take you away from the Mansion. Genosha became the only option. "We can be together there, away from the complications," he whispered to you every time you mentioned how overwhelming life in the X-Mansion could be. The idea began to echo in your mind, especially when you saw the intensity in his eyes. He was convincing, his promises of a paradise where you could live peacefully and safely. Finally, you accepted his proposal, wanting a new beginning, unaware that this decision would tie you to Kurt in ways you could never have imagined.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... in Genosha, became your constant shadow. No matter where you went or who you wanted to talk to, Kurt always found a way to be present. "This place is just for us" he would say as they walked along the island's beaches, his tail possessively wrapping around your waist. Though the surroundings were beautiful, you felt increasingly isolated. Kurt's gazes, once sweet and full of adoration, now seemed to hold a shadow you couldn't identify. Every time you tried to socialize with the mutants on the island, Kurt intervened somehow, diverting conversations or simply taking you away with a gentle smile.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... little by little, began to isolate you from the rest. You couldn't have friends in the city, and every time you planned something with the few friends you made, he found a reason for you to spend the day with him. Every time you wanted to go out exploring, he suggested a walk along the deserted beach. "The world here is safer," he said with that sweet smile you trusted so much, while his tail lovingly curled around your waist. You never suspected that those little moments of isolation were part of his plan to have you all to himself.

Yandere Kurt Wagner who... when Logan came to visit you, knew that danger was near. Logan wasn't stupid; he had noticed the change in you and suspected that Kurt was the reason. "You shouldn't be so far away, girl. Something doesn't smell right," he told you, looking at you with a mixture of sternness and paternal concern. Kurt was there, close, watching silently. That night, when Logan said goodbye, Kurt hugged you tighter than usual. "I won't let him take you away, my angel," he whispered in your ear. Logan had an accident soon after that visit, and although he survived, something in his attitude changed. He stopped insisting.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... despite everything, gave you moments of sweetness. He took care of you, spoiled you, and showered you with affection. In his eyes, everything he did was out of love, for your protection. "We are together, my angel, and we always will be, Liebling" he would say to you every night, wrapping you in his arms as the stars shone above you both, just like at the beginning. Although the weight of his devotion sometimes suffocated you, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of relief and resignation. Life with Kurt was a gilded cage, a soft prison made of obsessive love.

Yandere! Kurt Wagner who... although his love was overwhelming, sickly, and obsessive, beneath it all there was a disturbing tenderness. Kurt saw you as his salvation, his redemption in a cruel world. But also, without realizing it, you had become his prison of love. He loved you so much that he couldn't let you go free, but in his twisted mind, this was the right thing to do. "My Engel... together forever," he whispered to you on those starry nights, as the obsessive love he felt, lurking and protective, became the only possible fate.

A/N ─── Personally, even though it's short, I'm completely okay with it. I adore Kurt! He's such a sweetheart when he’s not yandere, of course ��. His sweetness, his attentive nature, and his unwavering faith make him irresistible. He’s the kind of person who would say things like Liebling or Schatz with that warm and shy look that melts hearts. Although when he becomes yandere, everything gets a little... intense, to say the least.

Liebling - Dear, darling

Schatz - Treasure

Engel - Angel

Mein Schatz - My treasure

If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Take a Bath!

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dominos-palast · 2 years ago

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Masterlist

Mostly fluff and gn!reader.

Request: R

X-Men

Peter Maximoff

Pillow Replacement (gn!reader)

Kurt Wagner

Lessons on flirting (1/3) (fem!reader) R

Alice in Borderland

Shuntaro Chishiya

Not as useless as I seem (adhd!gn!reader)

Teach me some bad words (gn!reader)

Random Story Ideas

#1 (With trigger warning)

#2 (With trigger warning)

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lillian-gallows · 4 months ago

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Kinktober Day 9: Double Penetration with Kurt Wagner.

Pairing: Kurt Wagner X Fem!Reader. Work Count: 1926 Warnings: Double penetration, Tail used for anal sex, P in V sex, Open communication, Teasing, Praise kink (Literally one "Good Girl"), Probably incorrect use of German, Pet names (Maus - Mouse, Leibe - Love), Teeth kink (?) mentioned but not acted on, Reader is specified to be a mutant with a more benign power, References to Kurts Catholicism and horny stereotypes therein, They're in love your honor.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

This is 100% not your fault.

Kurt is completely to blame for this one and that’s the story you’re sticking to.

He was the one that did the thing that unlocked this, apparently very, deep seated kink you didn’t know was there…Okay, maybe you might have had an inkling, but you were totally content to never acknowledge it!

What was the thing? You might ask. Kurt, little devil that he is, used his tail during sex. And in the way you might be thinking.

While balls deep the blue imp decided it would be a good idea to give your, erm, rear entrance some attention. It was just a little brush with the tip of his spade, but it was enough to awaken this new part of yourself.

So, here you are, sat on your bed facing your fuzzball with flaming cheeks, and him smirking like he already knows where this is going.

“I want you to use your tail again.” You admitted after a couple non-starts.

“And you’re embarrassed about this?” He asked like he thought it was silly, which you supposed it was a little silly, you two had been through some pretty crazy stuff together since you met.

Using his tail during sex was hardly the strangest thing you two have talked about.

“I mean…It just seemed a little, I don’t know, taboo? I mean, Kurt. You’re Catholic. I’m kinda lucky you have sex with me to begin with.” You explained trying, and failing, to keep your incredulity off your face.

His smirk widened and he snorted before descending into giggles, giving you a peek at his little fangs. That was another conversation for another day.

“Ah, mien leibe. You really are so silly sometimes.” He said through his laughter. “Did you forget about the biggest Catholic stereotype?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, so he continued. “Why do you think we have so many children?”

Then it hit you. “Oh…Oh! Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

This time his chuckle was fond rather than at your expense. “You know you can tell me anything, Maus. I love you, and I’m more than happy to do whatever pervy bedroom things you want.” He teased as he pulled your hands from your face to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Pervy things I want? You’re the one who started this...” You pouted with a lifted brow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigned.

“Sure, you don’t.” You rolled your eyes.

You both fell silent for a moment after that. You, waiting for him to say something. And he, for you to ask for what you actually want to say.

“So…Did you have like…Anything you need to do later or…” You started slowly, looking off to the side and waiting for him to have mercy on you.

“Why wait till later?” He asked before he was suddenly on you, literally. He had you pressed into the mattress. “When right now is just as good.” He finished before claiming your lips in a kiss that quickly became all tongues and teeth. You really did like those teeth…

“Now is good…” You managed between kisses, hands moving up to thread into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

One of his hands, which had previously been pressed into the fabric next to your head, moved down to caress your body, cupping your breast through your shirt for a moment before moving down to slip under the material to roll your nipple between his fingers.

“No bra?” He asked as if he couldn’t tell this whole time.

“Shut up.” You groaned before yanking his lips back to yours, his whole body following the movement and pressing his front to yours, allowing you to feel how hard he already was.

“And I’m the perv.” You teased, proud to finally fire back at him.

“Be careful Maus, I’m the one that has what you want so bad…” He taunted wickedly and your mouth snapped shut.

Blue jerk.

“Good girl.” He said and watched with a pleased grin as you melted under him.

“No fair…” You grumbled but didn’t get to say anything else as he leaned back down, nipping at your lower lip before slipping his wicked tongue into your mouth, exploring like he owned it.

Clothes were removed in a blur, all too focused on each other and where your hands were going next.

Somewhere along the way you ended up on top of him. Your wet pussy running along the length of his dick, his tip flushed so dark it was proper purple as it peaked out from under you with each rock of your hips, brushing against your clit every time.

Your fingers tugged at his hair as you devoured his lips with desperate whimpers mixing with his own moans, his own hands gripped your hips to guide your movements, though you didn’t need guidance. You had no intention of stopping.

“Leibe…” He whispered between kisses to catch your attention. You let out a hum in question and parted from him just enough for him to speak. “I need the lube from the nightstand.” He panted against your lips.

You didn’t bother trying not to seem eager as you reached out to open the drawer and grab the little bottle and he was too focused to tease.

Rather than start with his fingers, seeing as they were definitely too thick for this particular situation, at least to start with, he wiggled for a moment to free his tail from under himself.

The little blue spade came to hover between you two as he poured a generous glob of the clear fluid on the center. “Care to assist me, Maus?” He asked with smoldering eyes watching yours.

Your fingers reached out to spread it, your other hand wrapping delicately around the base of the spade for stability, and to tease him a little because you know his tail is sensitive. Not really an erogenous zone, but still, lots of nerves.

And the little hitch in Kurts breath was a dead giveaway of this as you made sure the lube was spread over the whole end of the appendage, then applying another dollop.

Once both of you were satisfied you released him from your hold, about to climb off him so he could be on top, but his hold on your hips stopped you. “I want you to have control of how fast this goes.” He explained when you looked at him confused.

Your chest filled with butterflies as you looked down at him, leaning in to give him a much more innocent kiss. “I love you…” You whispered against his kiss swollen lips.

“I love you too…” He whispered right back before slipping his tail from between you to hover near your bottom, arched in the air in this position. “I’m going to start slow, and when you’re ready for more let me know.” He said softly.

At your nod the slick tip of his tail pressed to your hole, spreading the excess lube over your pucker.

It was cold, but felt good, the skin of his tail was as fuzzy and soft as the rest of him, but there was a muscular density that was shockingly reminiscent of his hard cock.

One the lube was adequately spread the very tip pressed in just a little, just enough to almost massage the muscles till they relaxed, allowing the spade to press in just a little more.

Bit by bit this went, till you reached the widest part, and he froze as you let out a quiet sound, not quite a groan, but not just a moan. “Leibe?” He asked, breaths a little ragged from the sensations this was giving him.

“I’m okay…” You assured. “Just give me a sec…” He let out a relieved breath, worried for a moment that he might have hurt you.

Soon your body relaxed again and you pressed back a bit, thinking there was a little more before you would past the flair but letting out a shocked, high and pleasured, moan when you felt the rest pop in.

“Fuck…!” You gasped, your face falling down to bury in his neck, body shaking as it tried to process the pleasure of it. “Kurt…” His name was a drawn-out sound that had his dick kicking up against your belly.

That’s when you had a thought, well, it was also a thought you’d had before, but you hadn’t initially intended to act on it tonight too, but your sex addled brain didn’t care to wait to bring it up.

“Can I have your cock too?” You asked, voice a little whiny as you managed to look up at him, utterly shameless, eyes half-lidded and shiny. You were sure your pupils were blown to hell.

“Verdammt…” He groaned as his head fell back to the mattress, wondering what he ever did to deserve the woman currently begging him to fuck both her holes at the same time. “Yes.” He said, because how was he to say no when you looked so sweet and needy?

You moved to reach between your bodies, but he stopped you. “Let me.” He said, replacing your hand with his own to take himself in hand, holding the head to your poor neglected pussy, dripping wet and sensitive.

Kurt was by no means a small man, but now he felt massive with the stretch of both holes. Every nerve felt like it was lighting up as you sank down on his cock, the tighter space made it so the whole length was pressed right up against your g-spot.

And it was everything you could do to remain on this plain of existence.

It was times like this that made you glad your mutation was rather benign, lest you knock the power out or something with how little control you felt like you had over your person.

You remained still as your body got used to being filled so completely, but the moment you were. Well, it wasn’t your world getting rocked.

As you rocked your hip, riding the blue teleporter under you, you watched as his golden eyes rolled closed and his grip on your hips tightened, aiding in each roll and press as you chased both your pleasure.

The room was filled with a mix of wet noises from between your bodies, and your mixed moans, too lost to think too hard about how loud you were probably being.

You couldn’t have missed the tightening in your belly if you tried, and it didn’t build slowly.

No, it coiled fast and tight as you practically bounced on the bed with each thrust, Kurts hips meeting you halfway now as he felt you quivering around him, tail moving in tandem with his hips to never leave you empty, when his cock was pulling out his tail was pushing in.

And when the knot snapped you came with a cry and he followed less than a second behind with a groan that you were pretty sure was meant to be your name, but it trailed off halfway through into incoherent babbling, much like you.

As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your rhythm faltered into slower rolls as you collapse on top of your boyfriend.

“Holy shit…” You murmured as the twitching in your body ebbed away and you both fell into a pleasant silence in the afterglow, his hands holding you close.

“Are we going to talk about the teeth next?”

“…Shut up…”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kurt wagner x reader #kurt wagner #nightcrawler

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writingoddess1125 · 4 months ago

Text

1999 Pt 6

Kurt Wagner x Fem Reader

Some Angst, Sad Topics, Mild Domestic Violence

Reader has Empath abilities and can feel others emotions, her mind can not be read either, and if she touches someone she can make them feel what feel what she feels.

Marvel Masterlist <<

Kofi

(Y/N) stood in her kitchen angrily chopping down on some vegetables. Her lips a thin tight line as she minced some onion like it had wronged her.

It had been a shit show to say the least.

Kurt's little stunt of immediately outing himself as Milo and Leon's father had turned her livingroom into what could only be described as a emotional battle ground... that turned into a physical one.

Sure the first few seconds may have been silently as it felt like a vacuum had sucked out all the air in the room.

It was then that Milo had been the first to take action breaking the still room, rolling up from his seat next to (Y/N) as he smoothed out invisible imperfections in his clothes like he was a professional. His face like stone making it unreadable as he looked to all the adults in the room and wished them a good evening, going as far as to shake Xaviers hand. His emotions which had been a rolling tirade seemed to have just shut off at the sight of Kurt-

Poor Xavier normally a rational man seemed just as surprised as he shook Milo's hand silently as the teen left the livingroom, shifting to his humanoid form and walking out of the house silently, the poor Professor hand still hanging in the air were Milo had left it.

(Y/N), Xavier, Jean, Logan and Kurt staring at the front door where Milo had just left- Before the adults eyes all shifted to Leon who was still standing there- His eyes staring at Kurt still as he seemed to be shaking a bit, so many emotions going across his face that it was overwhelming...

(Y/N) Just starting to come out of her own shock tried to reach out to her remaining son, but when her fingers touched him he recoiled like she had burned him, his eyes starting to shimmer with tears.

Stepping back once, then again as if they would all attack him if he moved too fast... Before his tail tucked between his legs, and he Bamf away in a second.

...

This lead to (Y/N) doing the first thing that came to her mind..

Throwing the nearest thing at Kurt- Aka a Table Lamp.

And try to jump over the coffee table to strangle the blue elf who had been dazed by the lamp...

Of course having several X-Men with two of the most powerful telepaths probably on earth it was fairly quick to get the now screaming women down- Kurt having not reacted fast enough to the lamp being thrown trying to recover as Jean and Xavier tried to get her calm. Logan knowing when it was a queue to leave- Helping Kurt up and out of the house.

It had been a bit of a blur after that, from the emotional unleash that (Y/N) displayed- To Jean also crying and asking for forgiveness in the part she played in this cluster fuck. Then (Y/N) kicking the two telepaths put of her home- Xavier apologizing of course and trying to ease the tension as he escorted Jean out of the home to leave (Y/N) to her own devices.

And now she was in the kitchen angrily cooking away, in her kitchen. Her mind racing with what part of her life she needed to deal with first.

Her Past coming back like a giant blue pimple on her ass- Her son's who had disapeared and possibly hate her? Or the own heart break that seemed to rear its ugly head again everytime she looked at the blue pimple asshole fucker fuck fuck!!..

She didn't know why cooking was what she decided would ease her brain- Most would think screaming, crying, stoically staring at a wall.. but nope- Chopping vegetables seemed to be it.

In the background the soft sound of a door opening and closing, and heavy steps coming towards her. Hearing the soft sound of padded feet hitting lamonated tile (Y/N) didn't need to look to know who it was- Kurt standing next to her awkwardly as he held a bag of frozen vegetables to his head were the lamp had oh so gracefully connected.

"...I... wish to apologize.. again" Kurt said softly, setting a box of beer on the counter not far from were she was cutting the vegetables-

It was definitely a risk to bring alcohol to a very angry Ex with a knife- However Kurt at this point didn't know what else to do... he felt like if he brought flowers (Y/N) may shove them in a place he really didn't want-

(Y/N) paused her actions taking a deep breath, setting the knife down and grabbed a can of beer which she silently opened, taking a sip of as Kurt grabbed one as well doing the same for his own drink.

Both adults now drinking beer in a partly destroyed house. Kurt couldn't help but be at least mildly impressed- She'd defiently caught him by surprise.

"...I threw a lamp at you"

(Y/N) finally said, seemingly finally coming to terms with the last few hours.

"Ja.. You did"

The two of them stood in silence again, Kurt pulling the homemade ice pack away and setting it next to him.

"I shouldn't have done.. many thing- Showing myself... leaving you... it was.. unfair to you" Kurt mumbled, glancing to (Y/N) as he watched her sip her beer once more, her face fairly unreadable.

"Yeah... I'm sorry for the Lamp-"

Kurt couldn't help but chuckle at this, for some reason finding it a bit funny. Even (Y/N) cracked a slight smile at this as she looked down at her beer can and nodded silently.

Silence again..

"Do you.. need help with dinner?" Kurt offered, Gesturing to the mess of vegetables. (Y/N) also looking at her minced masterpiece, drinking more of her beer and sighing heavily.

"Honestly- I have no idea what I was planning on making. I think I was just chopping stuff for the sake of it" She admitted, Kurt nodding understanding silently Thanking God that she had taken her anger on the vegetables.

"When do you think they will.. return?"

(Y/N) shrugged, clearly deflated at this point as she leaned against the counter top finishing her drink and grabbing another sadly.

"They can teleport farther then you and it can be a real pain to find them when they don't wanna be found.. so it's best to wait it out"

"How far?" He asked, curiosity getting the best of him. (Y/N) smiling at this as she shook her head once more-

"So far they have gone about 20 miles"

Oh how Kurt looked to (Y/N) with pure joy on his face, a boyish laugh bubbling through him.

"20 Miles!? That 32 Kilometers! Ha!" He said as he clapped his hands together excitedly, for a moment he forgot about the problems that weighed on him- He couldn't help but let pride bubble in his chest, his sons were already amazing!

"Mhm.." (Y/N) hummed, drinking more of her beer as she stared at nothing. Kurt realizing right now may not be the best time to be bubbling in joy at his new found sons, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked to his former lover.

Awkward silence again. (Y/N) finished her beer and sat up suddently, tossing her two cans in the trash.

"I'll order food... the boys will be back eventually and probably be hungry" She said rather matter of factly- turning away from Kurt as she went to find some take out menus

"Ja.. That sounds like a good idea..." He mumbled clasping his hands together infront of himself awkwardly.

Lord Help Me...

The two of them didn't speak again to each other- Not when food had been ordered, nor delivered or when the two of them awkwardly sat in the livingroom to eat.

The food was no better then ash in either of their mouths, silently chewing on the oily food. It was awkward.. so very very awkward-

However in a weird way Kurt felt like this awkward feeling (and the knot on his forehead) were little in the price of penance for leaving (Y/N) and his children... It was a small price after all he had done- or more correctly what his inaction had done.

He had so many questions.. He wanted to know what the twins were like, their interest, what their birthdays were, what (Y/N) had been through, if she had photos of those major events in their lives.

(Y/N) stopped eating as she rubbed her face with a heavy sigh.

"Ask Kurt.. You forget I can feel your emotions"

Kurt blushed a big, his cheeks turning purple at forgetting she could feel what he was.

"Leid (Sorry).."

At this small glimmer of what he hoped was forgiveness he asked away every question that came to his mind about his children.. Sitting there, intensely listening to (Y/N) as she told him everything- well everything involving the children, seemingly ignoring anything that had to do with herself.

From their favorite foods, colors, stories of their life, Kurt found himself pleasantly surpsied at how forthcoming she was with this information. Happy to know as much as he could, even chuckling at a few stories he had been told about his offsprings.

"Thank you (Y/N).. I do have to know, Why Milo and Leon? A Soilder and a Lion- Quite strong names"

"That I'll keep to myself-" (Y/N) said calmly, Kurt deciding not to pry any further and nodding. After that it went back to silence, Dinner was finished- Leftovers placed on the counter in hopes of enticing the teenagers. (Y/N) was even generous enough to allow Kurt to sleep on the couch that evening. Before she disapeared down the hallway into her own room- Doubting she was sleeping...

So now Kurt sat in the dark livingroom-

He couldn't sleep.. not in the fucking slightest.

Sitting up he rubbed his face, In times like this his faith felt like his only anchor.. Truly his Hail Mary.

His rosary in his hand as he counted the beads and prayed... He prayed for forgiveness... He prayed for his sons not to hate him... For (Y/N) for give him... Or just for his sons to return soon.

eins.. zwei... drei... vier... fünf

His mind went back to his boys however between his counting of the holy beads.

...Milo favorite color is Red like the Chicago Bulls... He loves Basketball, His favorite food is Strawberries...

sechs.. sieben... acht... neun... zeun..

He had good grades, likes to read a lot since he says it makes him relaxed and his favorite music is R & B.. He Likes the group Dru Hill ..

eins.. zwei... drei... vier... fünf

..Leon favorite color is Yellow because he thinks his eyes are cool.. He loves to skateboard, and his favorite food is spaghetti with extra cheese and ranch...

sechs.. sieben... acht... neun... zeun..

He is a terrible student since he can't sit still, he loves punk and rock music, his favorite band is Red Hot Chili Peppers..

Kurt's eyes began to grow heavy as he thought to himself and continue to count, his lids beginning to droop as darkness took in his vision.

eins.. zwei... drei...

As his eyes finally closed, as exhaustion of the emotional day wrapped around him-

Missing the kitchen window slowly sliding open..

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