#overworked!Scott

[r0bee]

Got into the animated series lately and they have me giggling kicking my legs 💕

[jeanscott // (You) On My Arm - Leith Ross]

[f0xgl0v3]

Guys I started watching X-men like every other person on the planet/j and I.

I’m Scott’s #1 apologist I’m sorry dude but I just relate to him. Dude the amount of times I’ve had to pull the weight of my team and deal with people being annoying as fuck Scott is doing his best (I’m on the Bobby episode and he’s so real. Not really but I get where he’s coming from and I’d be pissed and petty about it too)

[capsi-cuminme]

Blowing Off Steam

summary: in which you're very stressed, and sparring is the only way you can destress. you're having trouble finding a partner though, so logan volunteers to help.

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: mild swearing, fingering, some dirty talk, lots of horny thoughts, 18+ MDNI

author's note: ahhhh sweaty logan on a fighting mat is all i need. anyways, thank you guys sm for the response on my other fic, as a gift i bring you smut ;)

•──✦──•

You’re stressed. You’ve been overworking yourself, you know it, and you need to relax, destress. Your body feels wound up with tension and energy, and you’re unable to release it. It’s not like you have super complicated abilities that mess with your mind and make you lose your shit, no - that’s Jean’s set of troubles, not yours. Your ability is simple enough - super strength. 

So what is it that isn’t simple then? Right. Someone you can actually truly train with and exert yourself out with. There aren’t a load of people who can physically keep up with your strength, not except Colossus, and even he’s just a kid. So when, at times, you want to blow some steam by training, you have next to no one to do it with. 

Or, you didn’t, not until Logan came along. You’ve sparred with him a couple of times, but only for excessively short periods of time, due to you not being able to keep your shit together because of his overwhelming attractiveness. Honestly, you don’t think it’s your fault that you’re unable to focus; his arms look like he could rip apart logs of wood with them, his shoulders are so wide that they’re practically made for people to rest their ankles on, and his demeanor - his understated, wolfish demeanor makes you go insane. 

And as if all these things weren’t bad enough on their own, they tend to get exponentially exemplified whenever you guys spar. Obviously, fighting makes him breathe hard and stuff. So your life becomes even tougher. 

Really, you aren’t trying to be horny around him all the time. But that’s the thing. You’re pent up, stressed, overworked. Being a member of the X-Men means that it gets really hard to get laid due to several factors, and then when your coworkers are so hot? God help you. 

As you sit on the gym’s bench, staring at the sparring mats, you strain your mind to think of someone to spar with. You could ask Colossus, the kid’s always more than ready and could give you some competition on one of your bad days. But there’s too much of a risk. You’re already restless with energy, itching to let yourself go; in case the kid isn’t prepared or you get too excited, you’d end up hurting him, which is something you can’t risk. 

You could maybe go to Ororo and Scott, ask them to come at you together? The two of them together would successfully tire you out. Maybe they’d become a bit more than you’re mentally willing to handle. You don’t want to have to strategise at every step. 

God, you just need someone who can handle whatever you throw at them without having to think too much. Unfortunately for you, there’s only one person in the mansion who can do that. 

“Oh hey Bub, what you doing here? Got no classes to teach?” The somehow smooth but gravelly voice breaks you out of your train of thought as you turn to look at Logan, entering the gymnasium. 

Internally rejoicing at his choice of clothes - the white wifebeater under the oversized jacket - while simultaneously praying that he isn’t here to stay, you get up from your seat to speak to him. “Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to blow off some steam.”

“And you’re blowing off steam by… sitting on the bench?” He raises an eyebrow, looking at you questioningly. 

You sigh through your nose, smiling exhaustedly. “No, genius. I was confused about what I should do to destress.”

Your prayers go down the drain as you notice his eyes light up at the prospect of a sparring partner. Nodding to the mats, he asks, “You wanna go?”

Tongue in cheek, you review your options for a moment. Go to bed frustrated and stressed, or fight an extremely attractive man who’s also able to keep up with you. 

“Sure, let’s go.” 

And that’s how you find yourself attempting to elbow Logan in the face. He dodges and takes a step back, but not too far. Turning, you see the grin etched on his face. Taking it as a challenge, you feign a movement to the right, but attack from the left. Your arm aims for his face, but he deflects it by pushing your momentum to one side, stepping away and behind you and putting you into a headlock.

“What’s up?” he murmurs into your ear. “Can’t figure out what to do? Are you really that tired, huh?” 

You felt his chest heave from behind you, his warm breath tickling your ear. Body humming with excitement and mind buzzing with the thrill of finally being in an equal match, you grit your jaw, throwing your head back against his. As much as you enjoy the tone of his voice, you hope it hits him in the mouth just so he can shut up, because being aroused is not something you’re looking forward to. 

Yes you’re horny, maybe even a little perverted, but you truly don’t have any ulterior motives. 

Logan hisses as his grip on you loosens. Shimmying your way out of his grip, you lunge at him, arms ready to swing, but instead of throwing a punch when you get near, you use your leg to swipe at his legs, resulting in him landing on his back.

Silently rejoicing, you straddle him, pulling your arm back to land a punch on his jaw, but unfortunately he grabs hold of your arms before you can do that. As a result, you’re left heaving on top of him, arms immobile, face right above his. You don’t miss the way he breathes, sweat trickling down his forehead, eyes glinting with something you can’t fully identify. You also don’t miss the dampness of your underwear, the electricity you feel where you’re sitting on him. You realize you’re playing a dangerous game. Just as you’re about to make a move to get up, Logan suddenly moves you by the grip he has on your arms, slamming you onto the mats with considerable force. He looms on top of you, looking down. You squeak in indignant surprise, but he pins your arms on both sides of your face, lodging his thigh between yours. You gasp, not expecting the sudden escalation of events. “Darling, you know I’ve got a heightened sense of smell, right?” he asks, drawling. “I can smell your arousal, practically feel how you’re soaking down there.” Eyes wide and mouth agape, you stare up at him, not sure what to say, how to apologize. “Logan, I- I’m sor-” “Don’t have to say a word, Darling, I’m the same as you,” he emphasizes his point by rolling his hips against yours. You whimper quietly, feeling his erection pressing against your clit. “If I’m not interpreting this correctly, you can stop me,” he hums, getting closer to your face. Waiting for your approval, he looks at you. You close the distance between the both of you, borderline moaning as you feel his tongue grazing against your lips, asking to enter your mouth. More than willing, you grant him entry freely, whimpering as his tongue explores your mouth. You break the kiss, short of breath, but your distance doesn’t last long. Logan is sloppily making out with you as he grinds against you. Your bodies move hurriedly, in urgent need of release. 

“Lo,” you gasp between the kisses, “need you so bad, please.” He complies, hands leaving your arms as he gets on his haunches and quickly unbuttons your pants, pulling them down. His hand moves to your pussy, thumb pressing against your clit, gauging your reaction. Your eyes widen due to the unexpected movement, and you gasp. Satisfied with your response, he rubs short, quick circles against your clit, stimulating you as he slowly pushes in one finger. You moan, hands reaching down to stop the sudden intrusion. It’s been a while since you’ve done this, so your body’s sensitivity is at an all-time high. Logan doesn’t care, swatting away your hands, slipping in another finger. He moves them in shallow thrusts, stretching you out while looking for the spot that’ll finally get you wound up enough for his liking. You bite your lip to keep yourself silent, staring at the way Lo’s fingers pump in and out of you, making a mess out of your cunt. Suddenly, his fingers press into that spot that you’re never quite able to reach yourself, making you let out a loud moan. “Lo, Lo please, right there please, don’t stop-” you break your own voice off with an even louder whimper, eyes closing due to the pleasure. Logan watches you with keen eyes trained on your face. He speeds up his fingers and thumb, enjoying your reaction thoroughly, as it ignites something deep within him. He palms himself lightly, hissing as he realizes how hard he is. “Shit, darling, you make me insane,” he mumbles, guiding one of your hands to the bulge in his jeans, making you feel him. Your mouth falls open with a little “oh,” as you feel him. You try to palm him to relieve some of his tension, but fail as his fingers pump in and out of you, driving you closer and closer to the edge. “O- oh God, Lo, I’m cumming, please please please-” you moan loudly as your orgasm crashes over you, thrashing on the mat. Logan holds down your hips, continuing his languid movements, easing you out of the feeling in waves. As you finally relax, catching your breath, you look up at him, unsure of what comes next. Usually by this point, guys tended to take their own pants off. Logan’s were still very much on. Before you could verbalize your confusion, he speaks. “I think we’ve blown enough steam off in the gym,” he chuckles. “I don’t want Charles to gim’me looks the entire month. I say we take this upstairs bub, what d’ya say?”

You stare up at him, wondering why he’s even asking, when there’s only one possible answer you could make out through the haziness of your mind. “Yes, let’s go.”

[sacredsorceress]

Spell on You / Logan Howlett

pairing: bestfriend!logan x f!witch!reader summary: when logan finds out another man bought you a drink at a halloween party, your relationship changes word count: 2.2k a/n: scott is an ass because i just know movie!cyclops would love to mess with logan's love life ('97 scott stays too busy for this). this is a bit rushed but i hope you enjoy!! warnings: reader wears a dress and thigh highs (slay), alcohol consumption, mention of smoke, jealousy, fluff, classic bff to lovers trope

logan masterlist | inbox | full masterlist

The bum. bum. bum. of the music echoed throughout the establishment, vibrating against its walls and floorboards. The sea of bar-crawlers intent on having the worst of hangovers in the morning were shoulder to shoulder, bumping against Logan as he made his way through the crowd to you.

The room reeked of smoke of various kinds and if it hadn't been for the overworking of the fans above, Logan was sure he would've gotten high secondhand. But it was Halloween night- certain factors were out of his control.

Though, like a lighthouse in the night, Logan heard your voice beckoning him over to the bar.

"Boooooooo!" You shouted, glass in your hand. "You were supposed to dress up!"

Logan smirked at your complaint, leaning against the bar.

"Yeah?" He asked. "'Cause you're so original?"

Logan's eyes trailed from your thigh high boots to your dress to finally, a witch's hat. Being a witch yourself, the irony was unavoidable.

"Very creative, sweetheart."

You felt a heart skip a beat at your best friend's pet name.

In shock of many, you and Logan had become fast friends. The man who had always managed to have a perpetually grumpy demeanor about him had paired perfectly with you. You were able to brush off Logan's jokes, matching them with your own in a way that had escalated so far as to make your fellow X-Men wonder if the two of you had begun to speak your own language.

"At least it's a costume, Logan." You argued. "What are you meant to be?"

"-Oh I've got this one."

Scott.

Any inclination of joy written on Logan's face was quickly erased.

"A dick?" Scott said, slinging his arm around your shoulder. "I've gotta say Logan, you've nailed it."

Logan rolled his eyes, inching closer to the two of you as a couple nudged against him to order at the bar. Noting the drink in your hand, Logan shifted the conversation.

"I thought I told you I was buying tonight?"

Your eyes lowered from Logan's to the drink in your hand. You traced the rim of the glass as you shrugged.

"Oh this-“

Scott interrupted:

"Guy over there bought it for her." Scott said, a shit-eating grin on his face as he pointed to the opposite end of the establishment. "Told her he'd be back later 'to get to know her better'."

You felt yourself grow warm under Logan's gaze, refusing to meet his eyes.

Lately yours and Logan's relationship had become more complicated, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. Pet names like sweetheart and princess flowed out of his mouth without a second thought. You had stopped going on dates with new men- something about it feeling wrong when you and Logan had... whatever you had. He was your best friend, that you were sure of. But, with Logan's eyes burning a hole through you, you wondered if he still felt that way.

You had been hoping to keep the drink a secret and avoid speaking to the man later in the night, but you should've known that Scott and Logan's rivalry would make any chance of that impossible.

Logan's eyes trailed from you to the man Scott was pointing to across the room. He looked about your age, dressed with a cloak around his shoulders and a pair of cheap plastic teeth slipping from his mouth as he laughed with his friends.

Logan scowled, raising his eyebrow at you.

"You into... that?"

You shrugged, hiding your eyes beneath the rim of your hat.

"It's just a drink, Logan." You said. "He probably forgot about me anyway."

Holding his gaze, Logan slowly nodded, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"You want your usual?"

You furrowed your eyebrows.

"What are you talking about, Lo?" You asked. "I have a drink."

Logan shook his head, tapping his fingers against the bar to get the bartender's attention.

"I'm not gonna sit here and watch you have some other guy's drink." Logan said firmly. "Now, what are you having? 'Cause you either tell me, or I'm ordering for you."

You felt a burning sensation in your chest as your pulse quickened.

You were used to Logan's stubbornness and protective regard for those he cared about, but you had never seen him so firm with you before. You were someone who could handle yourself and as much as he worried about you, he had never claimed you in such a way as he did now.

If you hadn't known better, you would have thought he was jealous.

"My usual."

You watched as he leaned over the bar, ordering the both of your drinks from the bartender.

The lighting in the bar was dim. Most of the things that you could make out were highlighted by an array of multicolored LED lights that had been flickering throughout the room.

The light above Logan's head flicked from green to purple, showcasing the sheen of sweat that had begun running down his temple from the capacity of the party. His sleeves were rolled to his elbow, the veins in his arms protruding as he leaned against the counter top.

Sometimes you wondered what it felt like- to be one of the women who had the opportunity to touch Logan. You had had passing touches here and there but you wondered if you could feel the weight of his adamantium bones in your hand- whether his skin remained rough despite his regenerative abilities.

The thoughts were cruel. He was your friend.

But then again, were you really his?

Logan handed you your drink, leaning the small of his back against the counter. Gingerly taking the glass from his hands, your fingertips graced his skin.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, feeling the vibrations of the DJ's music against your feet. You listened to indistinguishable chatter rattle throughout the building.

"He said he liked the 'juxtaposition of my face to the costume'." You said, referring to the man who bought you a drink. "I'm not even sure that he used the word right."

A smirk rose onto Logan's face.

"What a dick." Logan scoffed, nursing his whiskey.

You laughed along with him, nudging your elbow into his side.

"He is, isn't he?" You joked. "I bet he's super pretentious."

Logan glanced down at you, noticing the small smile that graced your lips as you met his eyes.

God, he felt silly. He was over two hundred years old and yet, he found himself with a crush on a woman and unable to tell her. With anyone else, he would have made a move the second he saw them. But you were his friend- his closest friend.

You had a relationship that meant more to him than anything in his life. Did he want you? Yes, but he wasn't going to be the one to admit it and scare you off. It had to be you.

So Logan put out his feelers and afforded himself plausible deniability- calling you sweetheart, buying you drinks... sitting by your side after a mission went sideways. However, there was something about the two of you sharing a life in the mansion that made him forget that other men could see you the way that he did.

Seeing the multicolored lights illuminate your skin and the way your eyelashes batted as you smiled up at him, Logan was reminded that he didn't have forever.

"Not your thing?" He asked.

Logan asked it casually. He was still leaned over the bar, but his body had turned to encase yours- one arm snaking itself around your back while the other held the whiskey glass.

The space between you grew hot and you could feel his warm breath against your face. The scent of the cologne that you had gotten him for his birthday drifted up your nose as he hovered closer.

Sometimes you felt that Logan was off living a dozen lifetimes in his head despite standing directly in front of you, but here... now... his focus was entirely on you and you knew he was waiting on your answer with bated breath.

You don't know whether it was the liquor or the realisation that the wolverine had placed you at the center of his universe, but you gained a confidence you had lacked in the weeks since your relationship shifted.

Glancing at his empty glass, you flicked your hand, filling it up.

"No," You sighed as your eyes trailed up his body. "I like them a bit... rougher around the edges."

This, Logan decided, was your sign. You were pushing the boundaries just as he had done, seeing if he'd take the bait.

Logan's eyes narrowed as he leaned in further. The music in the bar was getting increasingly louder as the night went on and Logan's lips were now inches from your ear, sending goosebumps down your neck.

"That right?" Logan asked.

"Mhm."

Logan could hear your heart pounding in your chest and felt peace in knowing that his was doing the same. This wasn't the same as his other ventures- he wouldn't wake up in the morning to find an empty space in his mattress where you had been the night before. What you two had would be permanent, he told himself; a fixture in an otherwise chaotic life like his.

In the life of a man with regeneration, he rarely worried about what happened next. But with his lips grazing the skin of the woman he loved most, Logan could feel a drop of whiskey hit his skin- fallen from the glass that sat in his shaking hand.

Then, he felt your hands push gently against his chest. And his world came crashing down.

Your eyes meeting his, you shook your head.

"I love you, Logan."

For anyone else, this would've been confirmation. But Logan had heard these words from you a hundred times. You loved him... platonically. He felt the wind knocked out of him at what he thought was resignation.

Pulling away, Logan nodded.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

Hearing him say it in the same voice he always did- the dismissive tone meant to mask any indication of care- you gripped his shirt, forcing him to look at you.

"No." You said firmly. "I love you. I'm saying this can't be a one night thing, Logan. I love you."

Logan saw the desperation in your eyes and couldn't hold back. He slammed his drink against the bar and held your face in his hands.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, thinking that as silly as it was, what he had been waiting for was finally happening. No matter the amount of times he had touched you, this time was different. As strong as you were, he was afraid to ruin the precious object he was holding in his hands- you and your future.

Logan swore your cheeks were softer and the scent of your perfume had wrapped himself around your finger.

"Say it back, Lo."

The sound of his name rolling off your tongue was enough confirmation he needed. Pulling your face to his, Logan's lips crashed against yours.

Your fingers never left his shirt, pulling him closer to you as you hummed into the kiss. Logan's hands moved to lay against your waist. The noise of the bar fell away as Logan focused on your breathing and the skip of your heartbeat as he squeezed you tighter.

When he heard the familiar, hypnotic hum of your magic, he pulled away only slightly.

In the heat of your kiss, a forcefield had formed around the two of you. When you noticed the golden shimmer of your magic, you pulled your hands way from Logan, bringing the forcefield down with it.

"Sorry."

Logan smirked.

"Don't gotta be worried," He said, running his thumb against your cheek. "You're safe with me."

Logan wasn't sure if he'd be able to always keep you safe in the hectic life that you two shared, but he would be damned if he wouldn't die trying. You two fit together like pieces of a puzzle and although he wasn't sure how it would work, if one thing was for sure- you weren't losing him.

"I love you too."

Holding you in his hands, the knowledge finally settling in that you were his, this dingey bar was the last place he wanted to be.

And it was as if you read his mind.

"Can we get out of here?"

Glancing around the room, Logan noticed two things: one being that half the eyes in the room were on you since your accidental forcefield, and the other, Scott barreling over through a crowd of college girls towards you. These two things paired with the fact that the woman of his dreams was standing beside him, Logan was more than ready to, kindly, get the fuck out of there.

Logan wrapped his arm around your shoulder and guided you out of the bar.

"That's my girl."

author's note: thank you for reading! just a short lil oneshot for spooky season

[softfem-dom]

I have a request for Logan and his low iron princess! Maybe the reader has been stressing and worried with their mid year finals coming up and due to this she hasn’t been taking care of herself as properly and of course she’s kept herself locked away to study and all that, effectively avoiding her friends and her unofficial adopted dad. Due to all the stress and lack of self caring, she ends up passing out during one of Logan’s classes and he takes care of her the rest of the day

stressed out

teacher!logan x lowiron!reader

a/n: the way I love the lowiron!reader and the worried and stressed-out-for-his-unoficial-daughter logan is not healthy I fear.

wc : 1,4k

HURT / COMFORT , TEACHER!LOGAN , FATHERFIGURE!LOGAN , LOWIRON!READER , TW FOR FAINTING .

worried fatherfigure!logan x overworked!reader

You knew this. You knew you knew this.

You looked at the black board, with all the dates and names scribbled in white chalk. You saw the lines connecting them, turning them into one of Logan's favourite ways of visually teaching: diagrams.

But you couldn't remember the stupid answer.

,,

You had spent nearly two weeks studying for the upcoming mid-year finals that were slowly piling up in your calendar, scribbled in blinding red. It didn't matter the day there was always something new to memorize or homework to do.

You didn't want to dissapoint the teachers, didn't want to dissapoint Storm or Scott or Jean or Charles and much less Logan.

You hated the way french mixed with latin. You hated the way physics and quimics calculs mixed up with the math's formulas. It felt as if you knew everything and fucking nothing at the same time.

You tried to remember everything, you really did, stayed in your room during the evenings to memorize the different verb tenses for spanish. But in spite of trying to not forget anything about your studies, you ended up forgetting something a lot more important. Your health.

,,

You didn't know how many of your iron pills you had skipped this week, but you calculated that probably all of them given the way your vission was swimming with strange colorful dots and blurrying in the edges.

You knew Logan had asked you a question about the 17th century. He was staring at you with an expectant look in his eyes after his mouth had moved, but his words hadn't reached your ears. Why were your ears ringing?

You had little to no feeling of your hands, as if they were not attached to your body —damn the poor blood circulation. Your head felt heavy and everything seemed out of focus.

"kid" Logan's voice was firm, a warning tone to his words as he adressed the sickly pale undertone to your skin—as if daring you to actually pass out during one of his classes.

He wasn't the one worried, the class was —for once—completely silent and a few of the classmates around you were sporting worried glances.

And then, Logan saw the all-too-familiar look in your eyes. The look of someone who is about to faint "you, grab her" He quickly, albeit calmly, pointed to your seatmate who quickly scrambled to grab your shoulders —fearing what was about to come.

And then you fainted. Everything faded to black in an almost nauseating spiral of images that your brain wasn't processing. Leaving only darkness and the muffled sound of Logan's voice saying something you didn't quite catch.

,,

You woke up feeling as if someone had been hammering your head non-stop. Your eyelids were too heavy for you to even think of opening them, and you felt as if your body weighted nothing and 500 lbs at the same time was this how Logan felt with his adamantium skeleton?

The first thing your stressed out brain processed was the warmth. You didn't remember the school having heating pillows but this one sure was warm as hell, comfy. Then, the smell. A mix between cigar ash, worn out leather, and general masculine musk whafted into your airways —drowning you in a familiar sense of comfort.

Logan.

At that thought, and at the memory of the fact that you had fainted in his class —right infront of him—forced a sudden urge in you to wake up and explain and try to find an excuse to avoid his scolding. But, it seemed like the man sensed your sleepy reaction before you had a chance of performing it because a big —warm—hand gently landed on the top of your head and forced you to stay still and not lift it. "easy" was all he rumbled in a gruff tone.

And that's when you processed the rough texture of the 'pillow' you had your cheek against. Denim. Jeans. You were resting your head in Logan's thigh.

That forced a sleepy groan out of you, one that came out more whiny than intended, as you clumsyly tried to get your hand to move so it could rub at your eyes and see if then you could open them. But Logan, once again, caught onto your movements and his other hand gingerly wrapped around your own —cold—one.

"fuckin' christ, bub" he huffed out, voice calm. "you're as cold as Bobby when he decides to turn into a man-shaped icecube"

You shifted slightly on your place just to let him know you were paying attention to his words, since you didn't feel like your throath would colaborate in the speaking task. He placed your hand on his lap, somewhere next to your face as you rested on his thigh, before bringing his hand to cup your cheek and gently rub his thumb under your eyes.

"c'mon, princess, come back t'me now, yeah? open those eyes" he rumbled lowly, voice having lost the usual dry edge, as he kept rubbing circles under your eyes. When he saw your eyelids twitch he hummed. "atta girl, c'mon,"

Your eyelids weighted like steel blinds, but when you felt the warmth of Logan's touch under them it was as if the weight eased a little. You forced yourself to open your eyes a little bit, then blink until the white walls of the infirmary didn't blind you, and then look at the man.

You weren't met by the usual worried frown you got whenever you passed out, or by the stressed scolding he rambled into, or by a stern look in his eyes. No, he was still worried, but more soft. "you ain't mad 'tme..?"

You managed to croak out those simple 4 words, slightly slurred due to how rag-y your tongue felt inside your mouth. And you find yourself shooting him a deadpan —"really?" kind of— look even despite your sleepy and disoriented state when your words are met with a loud snort from the man.

"oh, I'm really mad right now, bub" he replied, using his index and fore finger to pinch your neck slightly. A tense smirk on his face. "but we'll talk 'bout it later, yeah? after you've eaten, rested, and taken your fucking meds"

The last part is spoken with spite, you know it, but you can't help it when you lean further into his thigh —after squeaking out a jumpy noise after his rough pinch. He's the man that is always taking care of you, after all.

[urdreamydoodles]

How about Scott, Logan, Hank, Jean, Orroro, Erik, Colussus, Emma, gambit x reader where they kind of forget to take care of themselves. Like the reader will forget to do basic survival things ( eating, sleeping, drinking water, ect) and just generally overworking themselves

ps. love your content

X-Men x Reader

You forget to take care of yourself

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Emma Frost & Bobby Drake

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan isn’t the type to hover, but he notices things others miss. He’s sharp enough to pick up on your exhaustion, the way your hands tremble slightly when you’re holding your coffee mug or how you’ve been skipping meals. At first, he doesn’t say much, figuring you’re just busy, but when it becomes a pattern, his concern kicks in.

- He corners you one evening when you’re buried in work, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on, or do I have to guess?” When you brush him off with a tired smile, he narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “You forgettin’ you’re not made o’ adamantium? You’re gonna keel over if you keep this up.”

- Logan doesn’t let it slide. The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee and bacon. He’s standing in the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he gestures to the plate he’s made for you. “Eat. And don’t even think about arguin’.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.

- Despite his rough edges, Logan’s care is genuine. He starts keeping a closer eye on you, making sure you’re eating regular meals and getting enough sleep. He even drags you outside for fresh air, taking you on walks or insisting you join him for a sparring session. “Sweat it out, darlin’. Clears the head.”

- When you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, his reaction surprises you. He pulls you into a tight hug, his voice soft as he says, “You don’t gotta do it all alone. I’m here, y’know.” There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes you believe him.

- Logan becomes your rock, the person who grounds you when you’re spiraling. His quiet, steadfast support makes all the difference, and you know he’ll always have your back, even when you forget to take care of yourself.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy is quick to notice when you start slipping on self-care. He may come off as laid-back, but his sharp eyes catch every little detail—the skipped meals, the heavy bags under your eyes, the way your energy dwindles. At first, he tries to coax you back into a routine with his usual charm.

- “Chérie, y’know you can’t live on caffeine alone, oui?” he teases, placing a plate of food in front of you during a late-night work session. When you wave him off with a distracted “later,” his smile falters, but he doesn’t push—yet.

- The breaking point comes when he finds you passed out at your desk, papers scattered everywhere. Panic flashes in his eyes as he shakes you awake, his voice tight with worry. “Mon amour, this ain’t okay. You scarin’ me.” Seeing the genuine concern on his face makes you realize how far you’ve pushed yourself.

- From that moment, Remy takes it upon himself to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. He starts showing up with your favorite snacks, pulling you away from work for impromptu dance breaks, and insisting you take naps—sometimes dragging you to the couch himself.

- One evening, after you confess how overwhelmed you’ve been feeling, he cups your face in his hands, his red-on-black eyes soft with understanding. “You ain’t gotta do it all, cher. Let me help, yeah? We a team.” His voice is so full of love that you can’t help but nod.

- Remy becomes your biggest cheerleader, always finding ways to make you smile and reminding you to prioritize yourself. His unwavering support and playful affection make it impossible not to feel cared for, and you know he’ll always be there to lift you up when you falter.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt notices something’s wrong when you start missing your usual cheerful banter. Your exhaustion doesn’t escape him, and it worries him to see the spark in your eyes dim. He approaches you gently, his tail swishing with concern as he offers a soft, “Liebchen, you seem tired. Are you all right?”

- When you brush off his concern, Kurt doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention. He brings you tea when you’re working late, gently encouraging you to take breaks. When he sees you skipping meals, he tries to tempt you with your favorite dishes, his smile warm and inviting.

- One day, he finds you asleep in the library, slumped over a pile of books. His heart aches as he watches you, realizing how much you’ve been neglecting yourself. He teleports you to the couch, covering you with a blanket before sitting beside you, determined to be there when you wake up.

- When you finally open up about feeling overwhelmed, Kurt listens intently, his golden eyes full of empathy. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly, taking your hand in his. “I know how it feels to carry too much, but you mustn’t forget to care for yourself. You are precious, mein Schatz.”

- From then on, Kurt makes it his mission to remind you of your worth. He leaves little notes of encouragement around the house, surprises you with flowers, and insists on taking you out for relaxing strolls or quiet nights under the stars.

- His unwavering kindness and quiet strength help you find balance again. With Kurt by your side, you feel lighter, knowing that his love and support will always be a safe haven when the world feels too heavy.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is the first to notice when you start overworking yourself. His leadership instincts kick in, and he keeps a watchful eye on you, though he tries not to overstep. At first, he offers subtle reminders: “Don’t forget to eat,” or “You should get some rest.” But when it becomes clear you’re ignoring him, he grows more direct.

- One night, he finds you still at your desk, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. “This isn’t sustainable,” he says, his voice firm but laced with concern. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself like this.” His seriousness makes it hard to argue, but you wave him off, insisting you’re fine.

- The breaking point comes when you collapse during a training session. Scott rushes to your side, panic flashing across his usually composed face. “You’re not fine,” he says, his voice tight with worry. “You need to take care of yourself. You can’t keep doing this.” His frustration is evident, but so is his love.

- After that, Scott takes a more proactive approach. He adjusts your schedule, ensuring you have time to rest and recharge. He checks in with you regularly, bringing you meals and reminding you to hydrate. Though his methods can feel a bit overbearing, his intentions are always rooted in care.

- One evening, as you sit together on the couch, you finally admit how overwhelmed you’ve been. Scott pulls you into his arms, his hold steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly. “We’re a team, and I’m here for you. Always.” His sincerity brings tears to your eyes, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders.

- Scott’s support becomes a constant in your life, his quiet strength and unwavering dedication helping you find balance again. With him by your side, you feel like you can take on anything, knowing he’ll always be there to catch you when you stumble.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean notices your neglect almost instantly. Her psychic connection to you allows her to sense the subtle shifts in your emotions—the way your mind feels frazzled and your energy drained. She approaches you gently, her green eyes filled with concern as she asks, “Have you eaten today?” When you shake your head and brush her off, she doesn’t push, but you can tell she’s not satisfied.

- She starts taking small steps to ensure you’re cared for. She’ll float a sandwich or a glass of water to your desk while you’re working, her telekinesis a quiet reminder of her presence. When she sees you avoiding sleep, she’ll softly suggest turning in early, sometimes even staying awake with you to keep you company.

- One evening, Jean finds you in the kitchen staring blankly at an empty coffee cup. Her worry reaches a breaking point. “This isn’t just about being busy,” she says, placing her hand over yours. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, and I won’t let you burn out.” There’s no judgment in her voice, only love and determination.

- When you finally break down, admitting you’ve been overwhelmed and feel like you’re failing at everything, Jean pulls you into a warm embrace. Her psychic presence wraps around you like a soft blanket, calming your racing thoughts. “You’re not alone in this,” she murmurs. “Let me help carry the weight. That’s what love is for.”

- Jean starts creating little rituals to help you take care of yourself. She insists on morning coffee together, quiet evening walks, and regular check-ins where you both share your thoughts and feelings. Her calm, nurturing nature makes you feel safe, like you can breathe again.

- With her help, you begin to find balance. Jean’s love is steadfast and comforting, a reminder that you don’t have to face life’s challenges on your own. Her psychic connection becomes a lifeline, silently encouraging you to take care of yourself as she quietly supports you every step of the way.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo notices something is wrong when your usually vibrant energy starts to dim. She’s intuitive and observant, picking up on the smallest signs—the slump in your shoulders, the hollow sound of your laughter. She approaches you one evening, her calm voice breaking the silence: “You’ve been neglecting yourself, haven’t you?”

- When you try to deny it, Ororo gives you a knowing look, her piercing blue eyes full of quiet authority. “You can’t lie to me, love. I see the storm you’re carrying inside you.” Her words are gentle but firm, and she begins to subtly guide you toward self-care without overwhelming you.

- One night, Ororo invites you to join her in the greenhouse. She hands you a watering can and encourages you to tend to the plants with her. As you work side by side, she talks softly about balance and how nature thrives when it’s nurtured. “You’re just as precious as these plants,” she says, her voice full of affection.

- When you finally admit how much you’ve been struggling, Ororo takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and grounding. “You’re not weak for needing help,” she tells you. “Even the strongest storms need time to rest and rebuild.” Her words hit you deeply, and you feel a weight lifting as you share your worries with her.

- Ororo begins incorporating moments of peace into your daily routine. She takes you on walks during sunrise, leads you in meditation sessions, and teaches you how to find solace in the quiet moments. Her serene presence becomes a beacon of calm in your chaotic life.

- With Ororo by your side, you start to feel whole again. Her love is like the rain—cleansing and rejuvenating, reminding you that even in the darkest times, there is beauty and renewal waiting just around the corner.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue isn’t the most subtle when she notices you’ve been neglecting yourself. She’s direct and to the point, her Southern drawl laced with concern as she says, “Sugar, when’s the last time you ate somethin’ that wasn’t outta a vending machine?” Her bluntness is her way of showing she cares, even if it catches you off guard.

- She doesn’t let the issue slide. Rogue starts showing up with home-cooked meals, setting them in front of you with a stern look. “Don’t make me spoon-feed ya,” she jokes, though there’s an edge of seriousness in her tone. Her care comes with a healthy dose of sass, but it’s impossible not to feel loved.

- When she catches you skipping sleep to work late, Rogue plants herself on the couch beside you, her arms crossed. “If you don’t lay down and rest, I’m gonna drag you to bed myself,” she warns. Her no-nonsense attitude is oddly comforting, making you realize she’s not going anywhere.

- One night, after you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, Rogue’s demeanor softens. She pulls you into a tight hug, careful not to touch you with her bare skin. “I know what it’s like to feel like you gotta carry it all, but you don’t have to, darlin’. I’m here, and I ain’t lettin’ you go through this alone.”

- Rogue starts actively looking for ways to lighten your load. She’ll take over small tasks, crack jokes to make you smile, and even pull you away from work for impromptu movie nights. Her mix of tough love and genuine affection becomes a lifeline for you.

- With Rogue in your corner, you feel stronger and more supported than ever. Her love is fierce and unwavering, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as she’s by your side.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not one to hover, but he’s perceptive enough to notice when you’ve been neglecting yourself. He watches you carefully, his piercing gaze full of unspoken concern. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” he finally says one evening, his voice low and serious. “This cannot continue.”

- When you try to brush him off, Erik’s frustration shows. “Do not insult my intelligence,” he says sharply, though there’s no malice in his tone. “I know you’re struggling. Why must you insist on facing this alone?” His words cut through your defenses, but they’re rooted in a deep care for you.

- Erik begins to intervene in his own way, using his powers to remove distractions and obstacles. He’ll levitate your work away from you, placing it out of reach with a raised eyebrow. “You can finish that later,” he says firmly. “Right now, you need to rest.”

- When you finally confess how overwhelmed you’ve been, Erik’s expression softens. He steps closer, his voice quiet but resolute. “I have spent a lifetime fighting for what I believe in, but nothing is more important to me than you. Do not think for a moment that you must bear this burden alone.”

- Erik becomes a steadfast presence in your life, offering both practical support and emotional comfort. He’ll prepare meals, insist on regular breaks, and hold you close when the weight of the world feels too heavy. His love is intense and protective, a force as unyielding as the metal he commands.

- With Erik’s unwavering support, you begin to find balance again. His love is a shield against the chaos, reminding you that even the strongest among us need someone to lean on. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and whole.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank notices your habits immediately—your distracted demeanor, the hollow tone in your voice, the faint shadows under your eyes. Ever the scientist, he doesn’t bring it up outright but quietly observes. “Have you had any sustenance today?” he asks casually, his blue eyes studying you carefully. When you deflect with a vague answer, he hums knowingly but doesn’t press—yet.

- The next day, you find yourself gently cornered in the lab as Hank casually sets down a plate of food next to you. “I’m aware of your penchant for neglecting basic human needs under stress,” he says with a slight smile. “So, humor me and eat this while we talk.” His concern is masked with light humor, but you feel his genuine worry behind every word.

- One evening, after you nearly pass out from exhaustion, Hank’s patience wears thin. “Enough,” he says firmly, his normally gentle tone sharp. “You’re not a machine, and I won’t allow you to treat yourself as such.” His words hit harder than you expect, and his disappointment feels like a heavy weight.

- When you finally break down, confessing that you feel like you can’t stop or everything will fall apart, Hank pulls you into a surprisingly tender embrace. “You are not an island, my dear,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to face everything alone. Let me be your foundation when the ground feels unsteady.”

- From that day forward, Hank becomes your fiercest advocate for self-care. He insists on regular meals and sleep schedules, even developing a playful system of reminders with your favorite quotes or jokes to lighten the mood. His support feels like a lifeline, steady and comforting.

- With Hank’s love and guidance, you learn to value yourself as much as he values you. His steady presence and unwavering care remind you that balance is essential, and you’re never truly alone as long as he’s by your side.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- Piotr is gentle and observant by nature, so he notices your struggles quickly. When you skip meals or overwork yourself, his brow furrows with quiet concern. “My love,” he says softly, his Russian accent warm and soothing, “when did you last take a moment for yourself?”

- At first, he tries subtle nudges—leaving water by your desk, offering to cook meals together, suggesting walks to clear your mind. When these hints go unnoticed, Piotr decides to take a more direct approach. One evening, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down with a warm smile. “Now, we eat.”

- Piotr’s breaking point comes when he finds you passed out from exhaustion. His steel exterior reflects his internal turmoil as he carries you to bed, sitting beside you until you wake. “You push yourself too hard,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You do not need to prove anything to me—or anyone. You are enough as you are.”

- When you finally open up about feeling like you can’t afford to slow down, Piotr listens intently, his large hands gently holding yours. “I understand what it means to feel burdened,” he says. “But strength is not just enduring. It is knowing when to lean on those who love you.”

- From then on, Piotr takes it upon himself to help you find balance. He plans quiet evenings with books and art, prepares your favorite meals, and insists on taking over tasks when you’re overwhelmed. His unwavering care feels like a protective shield around you, keeping the chaos at bay.

- With Piotr’s love and steadfast support, you begin to feel whole again. His patience and kindness teach you that caring for yourself is not weakness but strength, and his presence becomes a source of peace in your life.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- Emma is not one for subtlety, so when she notices you neglecting yourself, she calls you out immediately. “Darling, when was the last time you ate something that wasn’t coffee?” she asks, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. Her tone is sharp, but her concern is evident beneath the cool exterior.

- At first, she approaches the situation with her usual no-nonsense attitude, dropping off meals and reminders as if it’s part of a business transaction. “Eat this. Sleep at least six hours. Hydrate. It’s not rocket science,” she quips, but you catch the flicker of worry in her piercing blue eyes.

- One evening, when she finds you working late into the night, Emma decides enough is enough. She strides into the room, telepathically shutting down your laptop with a smirk. “You’ll thank me later,” she says, her voice softer than usual. “You’re running yourself ragged, and I won’t stand for it.”

- When you finally admit you’ve been overwhelmed, Emma’s demeanor shifts. She places a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You’re not invincible,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender. “Even diamonds need care to maintain their brilliance. You are no exception.”

- Emma takes a proactive role in helping you find balance, using her sharp intellect and connections to ease your workload. She also insists on luxurious self-care days, dragging you to spas or planning lavish evenings to remind you of your worth. Beneath her icy exterior lies a fiercely protective heart.

- With Emma’s unwavering confidence in you, you start to see yourself through her eyes—strong, capable, and deserving of care. Her love is a blend of tough love and indulgent comfort, reminding you that self-worth is as important as any task at hand.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby notices your neglect through your behavior—the way you brush off his jokes or seem too tired to engage with his usual antics. “Hey, you okay?” he asks casually, but his tone is laced with concern. When you shrug him off, he doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention.

- At first, Bobby tries to help in his own playful way, slipping snacks onto your desk or cracking jokes about needing to stage an intervention. “Don’t make me freeze your coffee until you eat something,” he teases, though his grin can’t quite hide the worry in his eyes.

- One day, when he finds you asleep at your desk, Bobby’s joking demeanor drops. He gently shakes you awake, his expression serious. “This isn’t funny anymore,” he says quietly. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It hurts me to see you like this.”

- When you finally open up about how overwhelmed you’ve been, Bobby listens intently, his usual humor replaced with genuine care. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, his hand warm on your shoulder. “I’ve got your back, no matter what. Let me help, okay?”

- Bobby becomes your biggest cheerleader, finding creative ways to make self-care fun. He’ll freeze your water bottles into cute shapes, plan impromptu dance breaks, or drag you out for ice cream dates to remind you to take a breather. His lightheartedness feels like a balm to your stress.

- With Bobby’s love and unwavering support, you begin to find joy in the small moments again. His ability to make you smile, even on the hardest days, reminds you that life is about more than just work. Together, you learn to face challenges with a little more humor and a lot more heart.

[egotisticaleverything]

Gideon Graves general HC/Drabbles

I’ve been in love with this man since I saw Scott Pilgrim vs the world at age 10 and the animated series has reactivated my attraction to him 🤭

This is unedited and as always NSFW BELOW THE CUT

SFW

- Definitely a little selfish at first, kinda just ignoring you in favour of doing producer shit until you finally give him a wake up call by basically dragging him away from his desk and talking to him intervention style.

- he feels bad, I mean considering his past now can he NOT feel bad?

- definitely the type of guy to buy you things as an apology

- “Babe I’m rich I can buy you whatever you want please stop crying”

- you kinda have to teach him how to be emotionally available and how to deal with emotions

- he still overworks himself

- it’s inevitable

- you’ve found him passed out at his desk multiple times

- he won’t say it aloud but he loves when you take care of him

NSFW:

- he’ll eat you out real sloppy style

- he does not care how much your thighs are shaking or how many times you came he will keep going

- sitting next to him in the chaos theatre n he just leans down to quietly whisper the dirtiest shit to you

- he’s a busy guy so multitasking is a big thing aka shower sex

- you crawl under his desk at home while is on the phone and he looks down and mouths “what”

- he didn’t hang up the phone either he was just struggling for his LIFE

- he won’t admit it but he likes when you take charge sometimes

- very much a groaner

- the master of dirty talk he basically has the term trademarked

- little degrading but mostly praise

- “good girl”

- thighs and ass guy for sure

- loves him some tiddies but he has his favourites

- he sees you in dolfin shorts and literally starts drooling

- he’s just like staring for a solid 10 minutes

- you ask if he’s good and he just goes “sit on my face… please” without looking away from your ass

[romangolden68]

@scott-golden9 bro was overworking himself recently, busy writing and doing stuff and wasn't able to focus on himself and his bros... I decided to fix that.

I approached Scott while he was busy writing sum story for sumthing, I don't know but gave him one of my patented Roman Protein Shakes. I told him he looked tired and overworked and deserved 2 be rewarded for being such a good worker.

He drank the shake, gulping down all it's golden goodness, and wipes his mouth. I smirk as he kneels onto the floor... huhu, he won't know whatz comin to him! I grab his jaw gently with my thumb and pointer finger and have him tilt his head up to me. Rellllaaaaxxxx brah~ I tell him in a sing-song manner as I watch his eyes start to turn into golden spirals while he stares into my own eyes. I smirk as I feel his large muscles instantly start to relax. The knots in his muscles, the stress, the toxins, all of it was leaving his body in da form of Golden Sweat! I feel and watch his muscles turn relaxed and numb, and as a result, I can see his brain turning to straight up puddy, ready to be molded! I lean forward, letting his hypnotized eyes stare into mine as I whisper into his weak, Puddy brain:

Lift Sniff Grow Bro Lift Sniff Grow Bro

U reek U stink U leak No longer weak U reek U stink U leak No longer weak

U burp U fart U golden U gassy U burp U fart U golden U gassy

U a chav U alwayz a chav U a Golden chav Nuttin but a golden chav U a chav Alwayz a chav U a Golden Chav Nuttin but a golden chav After whispering him those sweet golden truths, I shave his blonde hair to a buzz-cut and grab mah camera before taking a photo.

Huhu, he's letting his Roman Bro think 4 him now huhu.

Anywayz! I continued to stare into his golden eyes as mah hands runned along his huge muscles, feeling that they tense up and compress when I touch them, becoming smaller yet stronger! From the bottom of his calves to his glutes to his pecs and even his forearms, all of it compresses as I dance my hands across his muscles. Unfortunately for Scott though, all of his golden sweat of worries and thoughts isnt leavin his skin.... oh well huhu So, once I feel that he is properlly changed and relaxed, I grab a golden Tracksuit made just for him, and put it on him. I snap him out of his trance

Huhuhu, Welcome Chav Scott, howz u feelin???

Oh shiz brah, I forgot to clean u da remainz of ur brainz! huhu. Keep talking to me brah while I clean u up, call me ur "bruv" and keep saying how good feeling dumb and Chav-like feels. I like hearing it brah, too bad u can barely remember ur past or even what u were working on....

Once I finished cleaning him, I took off his smelly tracksuit, much to his protest, and put a spandex muscle-tee on him.

Huhu, brah, Scott, hope u enjoy being a Chav, bc I don know how to revert u back

So to all my brahz out there...

Say Hello to da NEW AND IMPROVED CHAV-SCOTT BRUV.

[awkward-walking-potato]

X-Men masterlist

Link to my marvel one - here

My requests are open!

Wolverine Masterlist

Deadpool Masterlist

Remy Lebeau

In sickness and in health - Request for Remy with his lady being sick?

Steady as a card in the wind - Gambit with a partner with anxiety

Jealous Remy - A guy starts flirting with reader at the bar and how he reacts

Clubbing with Gambit

Guess - Gambit returns to the woman he hurt, admitting his fear of commitment and asking for a chance to prove his love. Despite her lingering pain, she decides to give him one last chance, hopeful that this time might be different.

Under the Crescent Moon - Remy takes you to a drive in movie to see his favourite movie, Princess and the frog.

Trick or Treat - “I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as your [partner/bf/gf].”

Playful Bites - gender neutral reader who likes to affectionately bite him

Remy comforting the reader after a nightmare

Prom Night pressure - Planning prom gets too much and causes you to overwork yourself

Hank Mccoy

Reassurance - reader has a panic attack and Hank comforts them

Quiet Moments in the Lab - reader who gets overwhelmed cause she has a similar mutation to Charles, and finds comfort in the quiet of the lab

Kurt Wagner

The midnight Visitor - It is just Kurt being the biggest kitty cat

Tangled hearts,Torn leather - Kurt with a Punk reader and they are very much sunshine and grumpy trope

In the blink of a heart - What Kurt would think about his shy gender neutral crush giving him a love letter before leaving quickly

Saved by Nightcrawler - Kurt saves your life on a mission so you save his

Pouting and fluff - Kurt comes in soaking wet and you have to dry him off

Swashbuckling - What happens when you watch pirates of the Caribbean with Kurt.

Shades of Us - Kurt with reader who has a physical mutation like himself

Kurt surprising his gender-neutral s/o by wrapping his tail around their waist in private

Kurt reacting to his gender neutral crush telling him that they admire how kind he is despite how much he had suffered in the past

Fuzzy Comforts - reader comes home drunk and immediately latches onto nightcrawler and starts calling him a teddy because of the fur

Shadows of devotion - Kurt x goth Mutant reader (whose power is smoke like turning herself into smoke or smoke like Illusions)

Drawn to you - Kurt ends up seeing the art that the reader makes

Whispers of Moonlight - Kurt makes friends with death

Discovering You Were in an Illegal Mutant Cage Fighting Ring

Reflections - the reader feels ugly and has been treated unkindly because of it and kurt helps them out

Charles Xavier

A gentle touch - Charles looks after a sick reader

Are you still busy? - reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy

Erik Lehnsherr

Beautiful Darkness - The reader has always felt like an outcast even with the other mutants till she meets Erik

Moonlit reflections - “I spent so long in the darkness I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.” Erik helps out a reader with a werewolf mutation

Comfort in the Darkness - Erik helps with reader see how beautiful her powers are

Scott Summers

headcanons for how Scott would support an S/O struggling with depression and mental health

An Easy Fix - When your car breaks down near the mansion Scott is there to help

Headcanons

Logan and Wade on Receiving a Love Letter from Their Shy, Gender-Neutral Crush

Gambit's on Receiving a Love Letter from His Shy, Gender-Neutral Crush

Remy, Logan, and Wade would think about his female s/o walking in on him

Remy, wade, and logan reacting to their s/o wearing lip plumping lip gloss

Remy, Logan, and Wade would think walking in on his female s/o

Remy, Logan, Wade, and Kurt on their Gender-Neutral S/O Asking to Hold Their Hand/Arm Before a Scary Halloween Movie

Headcanons: Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) & Remy LeBeau (Gambit) with Siren!Reader

headcanons for how Storm, Magneto, and Nightcrawler would react to an S/O whose mutation isn’t combat-oriented and who feels insecure or weak compared to the others

headcanons for how Kurt and Scott would react to having an S/O with a "sunshine aura":

Scott Summers (Cyclops), Charles Xavier (Professor X), and Magneto might react to a reader with a powerful and versatile mutation who feels undercoordinated

Scott (Cyclops), Remy (Gambit), and Logan (Wolverine) would react to rescuing a reader who had been trapped in an illegal mutant fighting ring

Remy (Gambit), Wade (Deadpool), and Logan (Wolverine) would react to their shy, gender-neutral crush whispering a confession in their ear

Remy, Wade, and Logan might react and feel about a gender-neutral S/O who always makes sure to tell them "I love you" whenever possible

headcanons for a polyamorous relationship between Wade Wilson (Deadpool), Logan (Wolverine), and their gender-neutral s/o who acts as a mediator and the voice of reason

Kurt, Emma, and Scott with a reader that’s a little off-putting? They’re mostly harmless but them not making a sound still gives people a start.

Remy, poly Wade, and Logan would think about his shy gender neutral s/o asking him to kiss his forehead in hopes that he would feel loved

Remy, poly Wade, and Logan would think about his gender neutral s/o telling him that they haven't calmed down from the disagreement/arguement so they want to sleep separately

Remy (Gambit), Logan (Wolverine), and Kurt (Nightcrawler) might react to an S/O who often depreciates themselves

[kuroko-no-cuties]

How Kuroko and Akashi would react to their girlfriend calling them a short king 👑

AKASHI…

Would completely freeze at his desk. He’d slowly turn his thankfully monochromatic maroon gaze towards you before uttering a slightly amused/offended…

“Pardon me?”

You struggle to hold in a snicker as you reiterate your previous sentence. “I said, ‘Don’t overwork yourself My Short King. You should take a break.’”

His eyebrow twitches and you’re not entirely sure what that means. Even though Bokushi isn’t in command any longer, normal Akashi can still be rather unpredictable when he wants to be. That’s why you’re pretty dumbfounded once your normally composed and calm Akashi let’s out a loud “PFFT!” and presses a fist to his mouth to fight the growing smile on his lips.

“You’re rather remarkable darling…I’m…not quite sure how to respond to that…” to which you bat your eyelashes and reply, “Well how about by taking a break an spending some time with your darling?”

He snickers once more (wow twice in one setting, what a giggly boy he is today) and stands up from his desk to take you by the hand.

“So be it then.”

Now, Akashi Seijuro is…Akashi Seijuro. He’s not gonna let some little crack his girlfriend made about his height get to him. He will, however, make a conscious decision to straighten his back and hold his head high around you, just to make it clear who is actually the short one in this relationship.

KUROKO…

Would look at you confused but immediately see that you’re trying to tease him and just pretend he didn’t hear you.

You poke his cheek and snicker, “Oi, I know you heard me Tetsu.”~

“…”

“Come on, My Short King, answer the question. Where do you wanna go to ea-“

“Would you mind not calling me that. Please.”

He replies in his usual soft tone as he keeps his gaze focused on the novel in his hands. You bite you lip as you attempt (and fail) at holding in a snort. You can’t really tell if he’s just refusing to play along with your little game or if he’s genuinely upset that you made a crack about his height. You mull over whether you want to take it easy in him or not. You decide to end the short jokes, but concluded that one last little teasing nudge wouldn’t hurt. You throw your arms around him and kiss his temple. “Aww sorry Tetsu-kun. I didn’t mean to make my little blueberry angy~” you coo in a baby voice while nuzzling his cheek.

Kuroko bristled from underneath your arms. If there was one thing that ruffled his feathers, it was being treated like a child. He experienced more than a fair share of embarrassment at getting demeaning head pats from Murasakibara that one time at the street game. And let’s not even talk about how “Dad” picked him up like a toddler in front of his whole team. So yeah…jokes about his stature aren’t exactly his favorite things. He knows you’re just messing with him and trying to have some fun so he decided not to take it too seriously- however that doesn’t mean he’s gonna let you off the hook Scott free.

He closes his book and slowly stands from his desk and you mistakenly take it as a sign to continue on to the topic of food.

“Ah great! So where do you wanna go? I was think about this cute new cafe that ju- kya!”

And just like that the phantom sixth man has you pinned against the wall. His hands in either side of your head. He leans in, slowly to emphasize the height advantage he actually has on you, while biting back a smile at the flustered look on your face.

“Sorry, but who exactly is the short one in this relationship?” He whispers, his baby blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Uhh…I…”

You’re at a lost for words. Did your invisible simple vanilla, blue boy Tetsu seriously just kabedon you? And size you up? Who is this kid?

After seeing you’re dumbfounded expression, Kuroko takes it that you’ve learned your lesson. He lets out a soft snort as he gently reaches for your hand and pulls you along out the door.

“Sorry, I decided to get you back but maybe I went a little too far. Anyway, let’s go to that cute cafe you mentioned, Shorty.”

….no seriously….who IS this kid?!

[starsofmilos]

Shadow (Logan Howlett x reader)

Synopsis: He was supposed to love her...Not you....

So I've decided to come back and I'm doing better than ever. I have also decided to no longer limit myself to just one character I love Adrian Chase but I'm gonna write what makes me happy. Send requests for Wolverine if you'd like!!!

Logan Howlett Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of sex, kissing, angst, fluff,scenting

Jean Grey...

The very name was more pretty than yours. She was everything you weren't.

You could never be her.

That's why you understood why Logan loved her. You craved that same gazing look he gave her. The way his eyes seemed to grow almost soft when he would stare at her.

The crinkles in the corner of his eyes when he would smile at her.

You could never be Jean Grey. Especially considering the fact that Logan couldn't even spare you a glance half the time.

You were a background person. A wallflower. Even before you developed your mutation, you had always just been average.

Ironically enough your mutation allowed you to control the vines and flowers.

You built a garden for the students to play in. It was your pride and Charles loved it. It's where you spent most your time, tending to it.

Jean loved books while you loved the mud.

It was another boring blissful day. Nothing new. Nothing exciting. Another mission for the team. You went on them anytime you could. Your florals allowed you to heal wounds.

You always went as support. The only person never really needing it being Logan. Nothing you did ever really benefitted him it seemed.

Jumping a bit, you looked to your side seeing Logan. His eyes staring ahead. Jean and Scott had just gotten together making it known to everyone.

Logan hadn't seemed to care but you could see the longing in his eyes. How he wished it was him

Jean was leaning against. Him that she was kissing gently as she caressed his chest.

Not that you knew, but you were wrong.

Logan stared in longing, but not for Jean. He stared for the craving of being loved.

As you fiddled with your thumbs, he stared down at you. Wishing it could be you holding his arm. Kissing his cheek as he grumbled.

Logan knew he was a unworthy man, but he'd kill for the very touch of your lips against his cheek. For the idea that maybe you could love him in the way Jean loved Scott.

Anytime you believed he was staring at Jean, he hadn't been looking at her. He was looking at the you.

He was only looking at her wishing it would be you staring at him the way she stared at Scott.

Jean and him had a complicated relationship, but the way he felt for you surpassed anything he ever believed he felt for Jean.

You lit the room up.

He never even really liked flowers till he met you.

"Doll what's goin on in that mind of yours?" His smooth voice sounded out as he whispered in your ear.

You jumped in surprise hearing his voice. "Oh nothing. I was just thinking about what new flowers I wanna add to the garden back at the manor."

Logan chuckled a bit. "Always thinkin about flowers huh? What kind were you thinking though?" He smirked lightly at you.

"Bleeding hearts." You grinned at him bashfully. It was hard not to feel anything when he would smile at you.

"Those sure are beautiful." He huffed a bit.

"You know what those are?" You teased a bit laughing as he glared at you.

"Course I do. I'm not an idiot all the time." Logan grumbled a bit puffing his cigar.

"I never said you were." You quickly reassured him. "Just not many people know plants."

"I learned for you." He whispered out.

Your smiled dropped as you looked at him in slight shock. That was unexpected.

"Did you really?" You whispered out now. Logan smirked at you ruffling your hair.

"So bleeding hearts for the garden?" He asked again changing the subject.

"Yeah..bleeding hearts." You repeated still staring at him dazed.

The mission went smoothly as usual. Logan always made sure any mission he went on for you did. He never wanted you overworked.

Jean smiled as you tended to her minor wounds. "Thank you." She smiled as you worked.

"You don't gotta thank me. I'm just happy I could be of some use." You chuckled a bit.

Jean shook her head, "You shouldn't do that. Don't talk down on your self like that."

"I can't help it." You tried to joke. Jean shook her head again.

"You should ask him out." She spoke up. You looked at her in shock.

"Who?" You tried to play it off. Jean couldn't afford to know. He was once someone she saw romantically.

"You know who. He's staring at us right now." She smiled. You turned your head finding Logan.

"He's staring at you. He always does." You sighed out. Jean shook her head.

"You're wrong. He's staring at you. I know. I could tell. Trust me..I don't hold a candle to how he looks at you." She smiled walking away.

Rolling your eyes, you began to pack your things. How could she know what Logan truly wanted?

You knew she could read minds but she would never pry in his. At least you hoped she wouldn't.

Once home, you were the first off the quinjet not noticing how Logan's eyes followed you.

Quickly you ran to the garden smiling as you saw it intact beautifully.

You used your mutation to brighten the flowers making a vine above hanging the bleeding hearts.

"Here I thought you'd race to get some rest after a mission. Should've known you'd be out here." Logan's voice sounded out.

You turned to face him smiling.

"Couldn't help it. Been thinking about this the entire fly back."

Logan approached gently touching the flowers. "They sure are beautiful..."

"Thank you.." You whispered in response. Logan stared in amazement at you not looking away as you met his gaze.

It felt impossible. How was he staring at you this way?

You weren't Jean.

That's why he was looking at you though. You weren't Jean. You were you.

Logan was always a man of action. Not words. He leaned in giving you the opportunity to move. T

o push him and ask what he was doing. He didn't even know what he was doing , but he wanted to kiss you.

God did he want to kiss you.

His lips brushed against yours.

A small breath left you as he shut his eyes. Your hands moved up his shoulders whining as he pressed himself against you.

He kissed you with everything he had.

You pulled away looking at him in shock. His hand caressed your cheek.

"God I am so selfish for asking this. I don't deserve you, but please let me have you.." He whispered kissing you again.

You panted nodding as he kissed you again. His head moving to nuzzle against your neck.

He inhaled your scent deeply growling as his hands moved your waist caressing your hips.

"Logan.." You whispered pulling back to look at him. "I'm not..I'm not used to this..do you really want me?" You asked him in shock.

"You have no idea doll. No fucking clue what I would do for you." He whispered panting.

"Logan.." You whimpered his name as he caressed your head.

"I'm right here. I want you..so let me have you.." He spoke in a slight desperate growl.

"I thought you wanted her.." You spoke softly. Logan shook his head.

"Don't say stupid shit. All I want is you."

You smiled at his attitude laughing as he lifted you up carrying you away.

"Shush..we're getting food." He grumbled.

"Okay..guess I belong to you now." You teased.

"Damn straight you do." Logan huffed a laugh knowing you'd be stuck next to him forever.

Not that you'd complain though.

[allthelovenina]

Nothing lasts forever

NSFW warning, MDNI.

Pair: levi ackerman x reader

Shout out to @leviismybby for giving me the idea.

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for writing errors and mistakes.

Also, it's my first time writing smut. Please be nice T-T

It's been a long week. Training, paperwork, and negotiations for the upcoming mission funding.

So, there you were attending another ball alongside other scout higherups, Hange, Erwin and Levi. The ball was thrown by a "rich brat" as Levi calls him, who was enthusiastic about spending his money in places no one else would. In truth, Erwin saw this as an opportunity to convince him that the Scouts could take back Wall Maria with the assistance of Eren Jeager, the titan kid. In that case, he was able to expand his construction business further and gain a huge profit, considering the amount of destruction the buildings had gone through.

The "rich brat" who was only the same as yours, named "Benjamin Scott". A handsome and smart man who threw this party and invited everyone involved in the three regiments to find more connection and link with people who would one day be useful to him.

Anyways, there you were. Makeup on your face like a piece of art, hair done, in your heels, turning heads to yourself. No one could not notice you. Which of course, was a pain in Levi's butt, except that he didn't know why. He had no idea why was he so pissed off the moment he stepped into this stupid party, surrounded by idiots. Of course, he didn't acknowledge the fact that he was jealous, even to himself.

Whatever was going on between you and Levi was...complicated. you weren't in a relationship but you were definitely something more than "friends" or "colleagues" which was just a headache to you. You were sick of this situation, you were in no place to roll your eyes at the new recruits who constantly tried to hit on him, or to get close enough to him to bring him out of his agony and you were certainly in no position to touch him, kiss him or give him a pat on his head when he is tired and overworked. You were really done with him not acknowledging you nor your feelings, when you finally realized he wasn't going to ever be anything more to you, you gave up. This party had the perfect timing because now you had an excuse to be drunk without anyone suspecting you that you're drinking because of Levi.

Afterall, being flirty with those rich bastards has always been your job to secure the funding for missions, handed to you by Erwin. Add some alcohol to that equation, and there you are. Flirting shamelessly with the one and only Benjamin Scott. To be honest, you took his attention the moment you stepped into the hall, he could always appreciate a beautiful woman with the right amount of strength.

On the other side of the hall, there stood Levi, no real expression on his face but his eyes said something else. He was staring at you and Benjamin from afar and as unusual as it was for him, he was drinking. He wasn't listening nor was he paying any attention to anything and anyone but you and the man you seemed so fond of while chatting. He sighed with anger once he saw the blush on Benjamin's face.

No one really noticed Levi's anger, he had always been grumpy anyway so it didn't seem anything unordinary. Except for Hange of course. They could easily read his mind and expression, with a tease in their voice, they said "Seems like y/n is having fun. I guess the guy will fully cover our financial matters."

Levi remained silent and he took another shut. "Someone's having it tough, huh?"

"Shut up four eyes."

"Jeez it's not my fault she chose him over you!"

"I said shut up! I don't care."

"You know Levi, if it's messing your head to this extent I think you actually do. You're not being honest with yourself."

"It's not that I like her like that it's just that Erwin shouldn't take advantages of her like that! Sending her to flirt with these bastards so they would give us the fundings we need. That's all!"

"Oh yeah? Well it's not the first time he asked her to do so and you never seemed this worked up. Could it be that not only she seems to be having a good time with him, she's been ignoring you?"

He frowned, they had a point though. A few nights ago you went to him, expressing concern about the amount of work he'd been doing and of course, all he said to her was "I'm busy doing your job as well, peace out." You didn't talk to him ever since that incident, only a few words like "hey" and "sign this".

He waited. He was probably the most patient man you knew. Anyways, on your way back to the HQ, you kept ignoring him. Hange called you to hold a conversation with you about the lovely, handsome man who was determined to fund the next operation. Meanwhile, Levi was gone. Perhaps he was too tired. Perhaps...

Damn it. He didn't mean it that. He just wanted you to know that the main reason he was okay with overworking was you, so you would have less work on your plate since you two had the same rankings. He could see now how offensive he came off as. So after a handful amount of blaming and cursing himself and overthinking everything, he decided to wait. Like a patient hunter who waits for his prey, he waits. He kept watching you chatting with the handsome man, he almost felt like a creep. Imagining things he would do to you the moment you get back to the HQ. Although he was inexperienced he felt like he knew exactly what to do and how to do it.

You got to your room only to find Levi, sitting on your bed with his eyes on the floor. You were surprised by the sight. "What the hell are you doing here?"

You raised an eyebrow, little did you know it was going to be about tonight or the other day in his office. "What about?"

There was no emotion in his expression nor his tone as he lifted his head and looked at you "We need to talk."

He sounds annoyed as he lets out a sigh and says "You're right. Why would I talk? I've never been good with my words..." Unlike Erwin or your lover boy of a spoild rich brat.

He got up, stepping towards you. As your confusion grew, the distance between you two shrank by him. He basically invaded your personal space, whispering, "You don't get it, do you?"

Before you could answer him, or even ask him what was he talking about, his lips were on yours. His tongue getting in your mouth, swirling around. You were in one word, shocked.

It finally happened.

You knew damn well no joy in this world lasted long so now that you had such a delightful moment, you claimed it. You closed your eyes, kissing him back as he put one of his hands on your waist and the other on the back of your shoulders as he pulled you even closer. You rested one of your hands on the back of his neck, and the other ran through his undercut, yanking his raven hair a little.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath and hallelujah, you were blessed by a scene no one had ever seen. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes that were filled with desire. The blush was spread all over his cheeks and his lips were swallowed, puffy and wet.

He was like a painting by some lavish artist in Wall Sina. You could just look at him all day long but as you were too busy admiring his beauty, his lips invaded your neck, sucking it oh so desperately. He kissed your skin and ran his tongue on it like a thirsty man who finally found water. He felt helpless in your presence. All of the questions in his head were answered now. Why does he get pissed whenever someone gets too close to you? Why does he find himself looking for you in every crowded room during the meetings or meals? Why is it that he hates it when you overwork yourself and when you ask him for something and he gives whatever it is to you like a mindless puppet?

He...adored you. Simply loved you. As much as anyone like him was ever capable of loving someone.

So there he was, cursing your soft skin and scent for making him this animalistic. This brainless as he bit your earlobe. He just wanted you, at this moment, in was only you and him in this whole world.

And oh man, when he finally heard your moans...it was as if something got into him, driving him to the verge of sanity. He felt a disgustingly sweet warmth in his heart as he heard those angelic moans. He wanted more, no he needed more.

When he finally could let go of that smooth neck, his mouth got close to your ear as he whispered "If you want me to stop this is your last chance because if I take one step further I won't be able to stop. Make up your mind and make sure you won't regret it."

Is he fucking serious? Hasn't he noticed it already? Hasn't he seen the desperation in your smallest actions? Didn't he realize you needed him?

Probably not, otherwise, he wouldn't say such a dumb thing. As a response, you unbuttoned his shirt as your eyes never left his. Running your hands on his chest, drawing circles around his nipples with ghostly movements. He grabbed your wrist and made you lie on your back on your bed. He got rid of his shirt, throwing it god knows where. Now came the hard part.

Should I tear her stupid dress up or fuck her with it on?

He slid two fingers in your mouth while your head rested on the pillow beneath your head. The other hand unbuckled his belt. You sucked his fingers as if your life depended on it, taking them into your thraot, muffled moans came out of your mouth. Then he pulled the wet fingers out of your mouth, slid them into the collar of your dress and ran them all over your breasts. He pulled out your breasts, perhaps if you weren't a mess and your mind actually did have any room for anything except for Levi and pleasure, you would've seen the spark in his eyes once he saw your exposed body. Oh he wasn't going to take that dress off. You would be fucked with that tease on.

He sucked your nipple as if it was his meal after long days of starvation while the already wet fingers of his played with the other, pinching and twisting it. He hasn't really done much at this point but you could still feel the heat between your legs. You were on cloud nine, so you didn't mind the marks he had left on your breasts once he was done with them. Exposed, wet and sore. The air hitting the wet flesh makes you feel the chill down your spine. He went down, holding one of your legs by the ankle as he put it on his shoulder. You still had your heels on. He kissed your ankle, leaving hot, wet traces on your leg as he was kissing it and running his tongue on it. He marked your legs too as he was sucking and nibbing them, worshipping them basically. He goes up little by little until he reaches the gates of heaven. He specifically only runs the tip of his tongue on where your hips are connected to your body. He wanted to tease you, he kissed your skin so hard and sucked it while bitting it. Small bites all over the skin that are close to that era. All of a sudden he slipped his tongue into your panties, leaving kitten licks on your folds as the fabric was still on and that's when you saw the stars. "You were having fun, weren't you? Ignoring me and chatting with a spoiled brat. Huh? Did you like it when he was eyefucking you? Tsk...he had no idea I'd be devouring you like this, had he?"

"Levi...Please..."

"Answer me!"

"Nghh no I didn't enjoy it!"

"Oh? And why is that? You seemed very pleased by the attention he gave you."

He couldn't help but leave a slap on your pussy, you gasped in surprise and pain as he started stroking it while the underwear was still on. He pulled the underwear so up the fabric was now rather exposing everything and leaving a delicious pain.

"Doesn't matter anymore cause you're mine!"

He pulled the underwear down, put both of your legs on his shoulders and he got closer, stroking his cock on your entrance, feeling your wetness. Then with no warning, he slid two fingers in. You moaned loudly then she smacked your buttock with the other hand.

"Keep it down unless you want everyone to know what a mess you turned into under me. Not that I have any problem with that though."

He increased the speed of his fingers, and then, they found the sweet spot in you. Once he saw how you reacted-practically jumped- he knew he pushed the right button. He aimed the spot again and again and again until you had to shut your moans by covering your mouth with your hand.

"You like it, don't you? Fuck you're so wet. What a filthy girl you are! My filthy girl."

"Levi...not enough...please..."

"Please, what y/n?"

You didn't see any smirk on his lips but you heard it in his tone .

"Slow down? Stop? Leave you like this? What?"

"No! No no no no, please! F...fuck me already. Levi!"

"You're lucky I'm not going to punish you for ignoring me this whole week!"

He then pulled out the fingers, digging them into the flesh of her thighs now as he repositioned himself between them, holding his cock, entering her hole slowly. Her eyes rolled back and a loud moan skipped from her mouth, she bit her lips to shut the moans. Levi, on the other hand, kept it quiet with ease, not that his cock didn't twist by the scene in front of him but he kept it down only to listen to her. He slowly pushed further and now was fully in her. He put a hand next to her head, on the bed as the other held one of her legs on his shoulder. He was looking at her closer as he whispered "Look at you..."

He wasn't sure if you heard him, you didn't really. Too preoccupied by the pain and the pleasure.

"Tell me when you're ready, okay?"

He tucked a stray of her hair behind her ear as he was waiting for her to adjust, secretly admiring her in every possible way. Not only her beauty but also her grace.

"G...go on."

And that was all he needed to hear. All those years of training and his stamina were paying off in another way now... not to fight or destroy but to pleasure and satisfy. Initially, his hips moved in a slow yet hard and steady way. He didn't moan, but he was panting while you were a hot mess, trying so hard and desperately to get a hold of yourself and keep it down, shutting your moans, but you failed. All you could do was not scream.

That was until he found that sweet spot again. (Bold of you to assume he forgot where it was in the first place). Your neck arched back as you let out another loud moan. He increased his speed, aiming for that poor spot. Hitting it over and over. You could swear at this point your walls got his shape, feeling every vein and curve of his cock.

One of his hands grabbed your breast tightly and the other was now working on your clit. Started with ghostly slow touches, getting more and more aggressive as his speed increased. You were seeing stars. It didn't take you long before your pussy was tightened around his cock, and that's when he knew you were closed.

"Cum for me. Make a mess on my cock."

And as if that was all you needed to hear, you followed his command. Reaching your climax in no second, still moaning. Good thing everyone's already asleep. You hoped so.

The marks on your neck and breasts, the mess you became because of him, your smudged lisptick, and ruined mascara made him proud. No, that's an underestimation. It struck his ego. That alone could make him cum and boy, he did cum. He pulled out and cummed on that stupid dress on yours that had been on his nerves all night long.

Still both of you were panting when he fell right next to you on the bed.

"You...ruined my dress...jerk!"

"I'll buy you another brat."

[whatgaviiformes]

*giggles* Enjoy, friends. The posting on this one was a very scattered, so it will be hard to find the follow ups. Here's a solid for ya:

Fixated (6135 words) by GaviiAdAstra Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (Cartoon 2015) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Scott Tracy, Tracy Family (Thunderbirds) Additional Tags: Scott curses once I think Summary: The work is there, and someone has to do it. (Or, Scott is overworked)

Fic: Fixated

A/N: I can’t explain how I am feeling, so I am going to let fic do it instead. This is entirely written without edits, without a read through.  Overworked!Scott

Edit: Okay I did a read through. Remaining mistakes are mine

—–

Virgil is the first to notice. Maybe because he’s Virgil, and possibly because he’s the only one who can call Scott his immediate older brother, so there’s something in their closeness in age, having navigated childhood together almost as equals, that sets his Scott-sense apart from that of his younger siblings.

When Scott was thirteen and Virgil was eleven, Scott was in the eighth grade and had to write a research report on the Wright Brothers, the pioneers of modern aviation. And that was all well and good, because Scott was going to start training for his pilot’s license right when he turned sixteen. The report became not just a chronicle of the historical figures’ lives, but also of flight, of the first airplane itself and the prototypes before it, of physics, and aerodynamics. He researched in a way he never had before because it was a subject he was passionate about.

He obsessed.

Like John but different.

John absorbed the search for knowledge into the fiber of his being, his fingertips always itching to take a deeper dive through archives when he heard a word he didn’t know or a concept he couldn’t explain fully. Research was as much a part of John as music was for Virgil, or swimming was for Gordon. It was a companion he could always revisit later, and so like all of them with hobbies that mattered, John knew how to catalog  and save for a better time, and turn the itch aside when he needed to. He knew when to stop.

Scott didn’t. Scott defined the turn of phrase “down the rabbit hole.” Alice caught and enraptured by the not yet known or understood.

When he cared, he obsessed.  

That project got finished with an A+, but resulted in anxious shaking that didn’t alleviate until a few days after the grades came back. Scott had lost weight, skipped his extra curriculars, and Virgil hadn’t seen him for two whole weeks while he worked. The younger ones likely didn’t remember.

But Virgil did. And he knew the signs. Forgetting to eat, falling asleep at his computer or on his books, waking up earlier than normal to get a head start to whatever imaginary goals he created for himself that day.

So, the day Virgil notices, it’s because Scott missed lunch. Grandma had made hot wings, which was one of his favorites, so the smell of char in the air would’ve been enough to set his stomach rumbling. With Scott absent when he definitely shouldn’t be, Virgil decides to make him a plate, six hot wings with ranch on the side, and some celery.

He finds Scott at their father’s his work desk, his fingers flying over the keyboard, intently scanning the files behind the screen.

“Hey, I brought you lunch.”

No answer.

Virgil steps closer to the desk, sure that once Scott catches him in his periphery, he’d acknowledge his presence. But Scott doesn’t appear to have a periphery when he’s focused like that.

“Scott?” There’s a little room on the desk, so he nudges a few papers to the side and slides the plate down. “Scooter?” He looks tense. He can see knots forming, so he drops a hand on Scott’s shoulder, and –

“FU—”

Scott nearly jumps out of his skin, his hands fly up, catching the side of the plate which clatters, sending ranch and hot sauce all over the floor. Even MAX scurries away with a low beep at the sudden sound, and Virgil flinched in a sudden panic when the dish slipped through his fingers.

“Sorry, sorry! I just meant to help.” Virgil is already kneeling on the floor, trying to pick up what he can with his hands, knowing he needs a wet rag. Maybe a mop.

The little cup that held the ranch slid a ways. Gross.

“Ah. Thanks, Virg,” Scott says. And he means it, Virgil knows that. But he can also see the gears in Scott’s head still working, still thinking about whatever he had been focused on, not quite fully present. “Umm. Do you have this? I’m under a deadline.” He looks at his watch. “Ugh. A rough one. I’d help if I could.”

“No, I got this! Sorry, Scott.” He picks up the dirty hot wings, placing them on a plate for their compost pile. “Is there anything else I can get you instead? These were the last of them.”

But Scott doesn’t answer. He’s already back to his computer.

~*~

Gordon is next.

He may not have the same Scott-sense as Virgil, may not have picked up on it as quickly, but he and Scott both share early morning routines, meeting in the kitchen at 5:00, Scott dressed in a tank and his running shorts, Gordon in his swimsuit, a towel around his shoulders. Coffee is too heavy to start the day, but Scott usually would begin the brew for when they returned (and in case Virgil woke up) while Gordon filled their respective water bottles. Whoever finished first chose the energy boost of choice – sometimes just a snack bar, sometimes a shake. On weekends, it might be oatmeal or toast.

Out by the pool by 5:15. Stretching was important.

Scott began his run. Gordon began his laps. They went about their day. Rinse, repeat.

Occasionally a rescue might come in and affect their sleep cycle just a bit, but Scott and Gordon were both military. If they weren’t rising before the sun, it was too late and they lost half their day already.

So Gordon is next, because Scott doesn’t meet him in the kitchen. He’s not sure he knows how to make smoothies for one – hasn’t in a long time – so he proportions his ingredients for two, fills a second cup for Scott when he wakes, and sticks it in the refrigerator so it will stay cold.

He pushes himself during his exercise. He was long past chasing times, but he still raced himself. Seconds could save a life, and so he exercised for speed, for longevity sometimes. For survival.

It’s a longevity day, so he’s abandons speed for energy conservation, which makes it a long morning.

His muscles are tired and sore when he returns to the kitchen and opens the fridge for a drink to boost his electrolytes. He is not in the mood for coffee today, but sees the pot is half full, so someone is up. But it’s not Scott.

Because the smoothie is still in the fridge, untouched.

He tells himself he needs to check in on Scott once he finishes his research down at the dock today. He’s been tracking a pod of dolphins near Mateo and has been needing to collect the latest data captured by his little research vessel.

He’ll catch him later. Figure out what’s going on.

~*~

Then it’s Alan.

Alan admires Scott, has been practically raised by him since Dad disappeared. Scott is everything Alan wants to be… just the John version of him. Take Scott’s courage and bravery, John’s love of space, you get Alan. Eyes on the horizon, but looking beyond it into stratosphere, exosphere, the space between stars itself.

He’s a hell of a pilot. He knows that. He wouldn’t be the pilot of Thunderbird Three otherwise. But a part of him will always seek the approval of his older siblings. He wants to make Scott proud.

Scott hasn’t had the time for him lately. He’s been working on… oh he doesn’t know. They don’t tell him. Something for Tracy Industries.

His final quarter grades have come out, and he aced all his classes.  It had been a hard semester and juggling his courses between rescues had been tough. He’d needed to call on his brothers’ expertise a few times.

He knows Scott has his file somewhere in his email, but he likely hasn’t gotten to it yet because he hasn’t said anything to him. It’s been a few days. So Alan pulls up his grades on his datapad and strolls past the center of the lounge over to Scott.

The first time he says Scott’s name, he doesn’t answer.

Nor the second.

The thirdfourthfifth time, because that’s how he called for him, the name running together like that, Scott irritably gives him a low grumble of “What do you want, Alan?” He doesn’t glance up, and the smile falters from Alan’s face.

“Oh, I, uh—” This was silly. It’s not important, really. Scott will get to it eventually.  “My grades came through. When you get a chance.”

He grumbles in response. “I’ll look later,” he says. “I need to…”

But he trails off, back to his computer, and Alan still doesn’t know what project stole his brother away.

~*~

John’s the last.

He’s called to check in. He’s definitely connected, but….

Scott is slumped at his desk, and John’s calls are not working.

“Scott!”

No answer. The figure at the desk doesn’t budge. So John opens a channel to the rest of his brothers, his feet already sending him toward the space elevator as he calls out. “I can’t wake Scott!”

[cera-writes]

I would like to request a Scott Summers fic! Maybe he’s overworking himself and the reader helps convince him to relax for once. They pry him from his work and the two of them spend the rest of the day being around each other without any responsibilities. Smth real domestic and fluffy ^^ He needs more love istg..

"Let's get outta here."

Tags: sfw, fluff, lots of fluff, kisses, hand holding, just being sweet to one another.

Pairing: Scott Summers "Cyclops" x Reader

Prompt: Reader thinks Scott is overworking himself too much. Sometimes the leader needs a break too.

A/N: Thank you for requesting this! <3

You'd finished making Scott a cup of coffee just the way he likes it, black with two sugars. You were headed up to his office with the little hot mug in hand, ready to surprise him with it.

You felt like he needed a boost since all he did was stay busy with the X-Men and worked himself to the bone most days. The man never gave himself a break it seemed.

Knocking twice, you entered his office when you found him slouched in his chair behind his wooden desk.

"Brought ya a little something to take the edge off and before you ask, no it's not whiskey," you smirked, leaning against his desk as you placed the steaming cup down.

"Wouldn't mind it if it was," he replied tiredly. If you could see behind those tinted glasses of his you know he'd be sporting some dark circles around his eyes.

He took the cup before taking a small sip. "Thank you. Needed that," he sighed, glancing up at you. He then smiled softly in your direction.

"Hey, I was thinking. Let's get outta here for a bit."

Scott sighed. "I'd love to, but there's just so much that still needs my attention."

You shook your head. "I need your attention, Scott. It wouldn't hurt to take a little break. C'mon, you deserve it."

You held out an inviting hand, offering him to take it.

Scott pondered for a moment before finally taking your outstretched hand in his. "I guess I could never say no to you."

He eased out of his chair, stretching tiredly before taking your hand in his once more, intertwining your fingers together.

Your heart always swelled at those little touches. He was such a hard worker and a great leader and that was just a few of the things you loved about him. If anyone deserved a much needed break, it was Scott.

The two of you found yourselves roaming the grounds outside. The sun was bright and the skies were blue. The air carried with it a balmy summer breeze as it blew through your hair. You felt a pair of eyes on you.

"What?" You asked, not able to contain the grin on your face. "You. You're so beautiful," Scott smiled lovingly in your direction as the sun warmed your skin.

You couldn't help but blush. That man always had a way of making you feel weak in the knees.

The two of you continued walking underneath the summer sun, hand in hand. It was getting later in the afternoon and the two of you decided it was time to head back to the Institute.

Once you both returned, Scott took a seat on the sofa as you walked up behind him, lightly massaging his tired muscles. He moaned softly. "Feels great, sweetheart." He placed a gentle hand atop one of yours that was working its magic on his shoulders. You smiled, leaning down to place a sweet kiss against his cheek.

He caught your chin just before you could pull away and tilted his head sideways so he could get a better angle to kiss you properly on the lips. He made sure to let you know just how much you meant to him in a single caress of his lips. "So soft," he whispered against your mouth.

Your cheeks were hot and your heart was fluttering when you finally pulled away. Scott then rose from his seat and walked over to the old record player. A soft romantic waltz started to play as he set the needle against the record.

"Dance with me?" He beamed, offering you his hand once more.

You eagerly accepted. He twirled you in a circle, just letting himself de-stress with you as the music flowed around the room.

It was just the two of you in that big open room. The only bright light coming through the room was the last remnants of a beautiful sunset shining through the drapery over the windows.

It seemed to cast a glow only on the two of you. You were now dancing close to him with your head against his chest, swaying to the music. He had one hand on your back and held the other as he nuzzled into your soft hair. "Mm, I love this. Thank you for this. I needed this distraction."

These moments with Scott were precious and far few in between so you savored every bit of it that you could. "I'm glad I could be of service," you affectionately replied.

Once the music died down and the lights were reduced to a few sconces on the wall, he bowed and kissed your hand in true princely fashion. "You don't know how lucky I am to have you by my side," Scott genuinely confessed.

You shook your head, amused and full of love for him. "I think you have it all wrong."

Scott gave you a puzzled look before you kissed him one last time with such devotion, pouring all your heartfelt emotion into it.

"I'm the lucky one."

[honey-minded-hivemind]

idea

Imagine a Au where Mutants and Vampires are somewhat one and the same, and like- imagine it's an au with a reader kinda like mocha(Rewind!Reader) in personality and all that-

They're living in an apartment with their roommate (✨Kevin✨) who sometimes invites people over at night, tho they always are gone the next day, probably just left while reader was asleep- though the people never visit again... Huh-

Maybe another odd person moved into the apartment and decided to introduced themself to people in the apartment(actually just Reader and Kevin for- Reasons(probably another one of the X-Men)

Strange how people who come by that Kevin apparently knows ask to be invited inside tho-

Cube Anon

Oh... I LOVE IT!!!

This Reader (let's call them Malt or Cinnamon) is an overworked, tired teen/young adult, who shares an apartment with their co-worker, Kevin. They're a swell person, they make dinner for Reader, and accept Reader's gifts of cool rocks and sketches and little bits of jewelry, so they're cool in Reader's book.

Of course, Kevin is always up at night, but so is Reader, it's when they're usually working. So they tend to sleep during the day, when the sun doesn't sting their eyes and their mouth feels less achey, just curled up on the mattress or the couch, wrapped up in a nest of blankets-

Kevin invites friends over sometimes, who always ask to be invited inside, which Kevin always laughs off, saying they aren't in the 1800s anymore~! Reader fell asleep soon after, but notes Kevin is very fond of a few different visitors, namely one they call "Logan", another they call "Jubilee" and a few others with odd nicknames such as "Storm", "Beast", "Gambit", "Rogue", and a few others with more normal names like "Scott" and "Jean"... The funny thing is, Reader never sees them... Theyvusally fall asleep before they arrive, with Kevin saying they left before Reader woke up...

It's all a bit odd, but Reader decides not to dig deeper than that. They don't know what weird cult or possible relationships Kevin has, but as long as they aren't sacrificing Reader or burning the house down or spilling blood on the floor, then it's fine. They have bigger problems to deal with than weird friends of Kevin...

(Kevin grins at Reader while they sleep, they never though they'd see their old buddy, their little fledgling, again-!)

[wheredostarsgowhenyoudie]

Once upon a Tower hangout...

Happy: You were afraid before. That's why you were reckless. Always making suits and going on life threatening missions. But life's different now, huh? I gotta say. Being a stay at home dad suits you, boss.

Tony: (glares at the teasing)

Rhodey (chuckles and clicks his beer cup with his friend's mug): Just admit it, Tones. The kid made you soft.

Tony (scoffs and takes a sip of his tea. Yup, he drinks tea now, courtesy of Peter's starter pack for taking care of overworked genius mentors): Still not a dad.

Rhodey (laughs louder): Don't kid yourself. Pepper called me last Wednesday to stress when you skipped an SI meeting because you had that thing with the Dadvengers Club. What did you guys even do? I thought Clint was grounded by Laura?

Tony: Ugh, don't remind me. Now, I couldn't even kill an ant. Scott is to blame. And apparently, Clint cleaned up their whole yard with no help from the kids so Laura let him off.

Happy (draws an amused smirk): Is that what fatherhood does? Just eating healthy and attending PTAs?

Friday: Boss, sorry to interrupt. But Karen activated Spider-No-Swiping Protocol.

Tony (groans): Pete tried to override my protocols again? What's the excuse this time?

Friday: Karen reports that Spider-Man is currently hanging on a web attached to a wizard's cape. His locations show the North Pole and Karen expresses concern on his lowering temperature.

Tony (exchanges a look with his friends): Of course he is. Well, at least kid kept his promise. It's on Earth.

Happy (shakes his head, amused as he stands to dust his hands): I'll get the jet ready.

Rhodey (stands too): I'll order takeout to bring. Kid likes triple chocolate lava drink with Stik-O, right?

Tony (nods gratefully): Friday, ring Strange. Tell him spiders don't thermogulate so if he's going to babysit, he better keep my kid warm or else. And call my kid. He better answer at first ring or Spider-Man's grounded for a month.