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demonpiratehuntress · 1 year ago

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The Straw Hats (+Ace) with you being injury prone

Featuring: Zoro x Reader, Luffy x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Usopp x Reader, Ace x Reader

Summary - you get hurt very easily. waking up with random bruises, tripping over your own feet, walking into walls, etc. and your boyfriend is extremely concerned.

Warnings - like one swear word

A/N: im super clumsy and VERY injury prone, so i thought this might be fun to write. writing this with ice on a bump on my head :))))

ZORO

Zoro tends to get murderous when he spots an injury or even the smallest cut on you. He is immediately ready to tear up whatever caused it, or slice the person responsible into ribbons. So you try to hide it as best you can, especially since you are especially clumsy and getting hurt is your biggest skill. Got a cut or bruise? You're wearing long pants and long-sleeved shirts. Bump on your head? Beanie or hat.

Sometimes, though, your body forgets you're trying to conceal your clumsiness and it will blatantly expose you, such as right now.

"OW! DAMN IT!"

You had been trying to sneak up on Zoro, who was laying out on deck - you guessed it - taking another nap. One of his eyes opened at the sudden cry, landing on your figure nearby. You were hopping around on one foot, clutching your knee with both hands, your expression pained. The swordsman sat up.

"How did you hurt your knee?"

Indeed, there was nothing around for you to hit your knee on - a precaution taken by Nami and Chopper, the only two who knew about your unfortunate tendency to get hurt.

"I...I kicked it."

"How did you-" Zoro was absolutely stunned. He was an idiot, but even he knew there's no way you could kick your own knee. It was physically impossible. He got up to come an inspect it.

"I'm fine!" You promised, setting your foot down - unfortunately for you, it twisted and took you down with it. "OW!"

Zoro's jaw dropped. It took a hot minute for him to react, too shocked to fully comprehend what had just happened. When he got over it he carefully lifted you up, taking you back to his hammock so he could take care of you. He had turned his back for a second before he heard a loud thud.

You groaned.

"HOW DID YOU FALL OFF THE HAMMOCK?!"

He was immediately rushing over to pick you up again, keeping you in his arms this time. He was so worried, the poor guy, eyes grazing over your body in concern. You didn't look physically hurt, but he could tell you were in pain. Mostly from the impacts of your falls. From then on, he's your personal bodyguard, having to physically move some things so you wouldn't knock against them, or move you so you wouldn't hit anything. As for the hammock...he always made sure to get on first so he could hold you and keep you from rolling off.

Good luck convincing him to ever let you walk anywhere - or do anything - alone again.

LUFFY

Luffy is a menace. Far from being concerned about you when you would trip or bump your head, this damn idiot has the nerve to burst into loud, uncontrollable laughter.

"You're funny, (Name)!"

And he doesn't mean to hurt or upset you, it's just the way he is. He's seen you on the battlefield, mercilessly crushing whoever got in your way, so he doesn't think much of these little accidents. He thinks you're not hurt, that you're completely fine and doing it on purpose to - yes this is his reason - entertain him. After all, why else would such a ruthless fighter just flop and fall around for no reason?

"Luffy, I don't think she did that on purpose..." Usopp tried to tell the captain, who was trying to convince you to fall again.

You frowned, trying your best to not get upset with your dumbass boyfriend, and before you could stop yourself, your body already obliged. You turned and walked right into the mast - face smashing against the hard wood. You groaned and stumbled back, your nose hurting and eyes glossing over. You fell onto your butt, earning another round of obnoxious laughter from Luffy.

"DON'T JUST SIT THERE AND LAUGH!" Sanji knocked Luffy so hard on his head that the captain fell to the floor, hitting the deck face-first. Then the cook came to help you up.

"Thanks," you mumbled, feeling so embarrassed.

It was then that Luffy noticed your tears, and he sprung to his feet - completely unaffected by Sanji's attack. He came up to you and grabbed your arms, making you look at him.

"(Name), what's wrong?"

"I'm fine," you smiled, shaking off his concern. You made to walk away, but you once again turned and slammed into the mast.

"CAN WE MOVE THIS DAMN THING?!"

"But that's...that's always been there?" Usopp said-asked meekly.

You shot him a glare so withering that he screamed and cowered behind Luffy, who just laughed and wrapped his arms around you, extending them until he had you completely encased in a cocoon made by his arms.

"There, now you can't get hurt!"

SANJI

Sanji, like Zoro, tends to overreact when you get hurt. And by overreact, I mean he dropkicks everyone and everything that dared to cause you harm. So you try to hide your injuries from your overly concerned boyfriend, opting to cover them with layers. Sanji found this a bit odd, but otherwise didn't press. But slowly he started to notice things he hadn't before.

"My love, watch that-"

You bumped into the wall, sending your book crashing onto your face.

"-wall."

He rushed over to check if you were okay, laughing a little when you pulled the book away from your face to smile at him sheepishly.

"I'm fine."

Seconds after you said that disaster struck again, with you tripping over your own feet - with absolutely nothing being in the way - and falling over. Sanji's eyes widened and he quickly helped you back up.

"You are very clumsy, (Name)," he chuckled, not knowing that was exactly it.

"I am," you agreed, hiding your embarrassed blush behind your book.

Before he could say anything else, you took off and tried to quickly walk away before he could notice the growing bruise on your knee. That failed, as you hadn't taken three steps before you crashed into one of your oncoming crewmates, and fell backwards.

"Mosshead! Why did you push (Name)!" Sanji yelled, coming over looking ready to throw hands.

"As if I would do that!" The swordsman snapped back.

"Well she's on the floor isn't she?!"

"She bumped into me!"

"How dare you blame (Name) you big oaf!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

You quickly stood up and got in between them, averting the total destruction of the Going Merry.

"He's right, Sanji. I bumped into him. I told you I'm clumsy."

You didn't have to say more before you were suddenly scooped up into the cook's arms, hearts in his eyes with his next words.

"Well then I'll just carry you everywhere my love!"

USOPP

Generally speaking, Usopp is a lot more alert than most of the crew. So it's no surprise that he picked up on your clumsiness early on, but he didn't think it was anything to worry about since it was just small stuff. But the moment you walked in one day with a bag of ice on your head, unsuccessfully trying to conceal it under a hat, Usopp grew alarmed.

"(Name), is everything okay?" Your concerned boyfriend asked you, stopping you from lifting something up. "Your head-"

"Is fine," you finished with a smile, kissing his cheek. "But thanks babe."

You walked away before he could insist on you telling him what was going on. But unfortunately for you, your two left feet gave you away and you stumbled forward, dropping the box and then tumbling over it. Usopp cried out in alarm and ran to your side, helping you up.

"(Name)!" He fussed over you. "Okay that's it, what's going on?"

"Should have known I couldn't fool the brave Captain Usopp," you smiled, trying to divert his attention.

"Well, I-" He stopped laughing confidently when he realised what you were doing, "Hey! You can't do that! Tell me, I'm worried."

You sighed, "I'm just clumsy, that's all. And injury prone."

"That...explains a lot..."

You growled and smacked him, "Is that all you can say?!"

"S-sorry!" He apologised quickly, rubbing his head. He was about to take you to Chopper for nothing other than he was worried you were hurt internally, when you suddenly tripped and fell on top of him.

He groaned, "Clumsy is an understatement."

ACE

He notices right away. There was no way it was normal for someone to walk into a wall that they knew was there, or to trip on a flat surface, or bonk their head on a shelf that they knew was over their heads - multiple times. But somehow, you managed to do all of that and more, and poor Ace was sick with worry about your physical health.

"OW! FUCK!"

Ace's head shot up from the bed, "What happened?!"

"I hit my head again..."

"Same shelf?"

"...Same shelf."

He chuckled before getting up and going over to you, bringing you into his strong arms. He placed a kiss on your head, replacing your hand rubbing your sore spot with his hand.

Later on, you were trying to bring him something, when you stubbed your toe on the bedframe and tumbled onto the bed, startling the poor man out of his nap.

"(Name)!" He figured you must have tripped, but he was not prepared for your tears. "Where does it hurt?"

"My toe..." You pouted. "I hit my food on the bed."

He face-palmed. It takes a lot for Ace of all people to face-palm, so embarrassment creeped up on you. Before you could protest, he pulled you on top of him and made you lay on his chest.

"I swear, you're a walking safety hazard," he teased. "Looks like I can't let you leave the room now."

He meant it. And if you did leave, it was with him. He was just too worried about not being around when you hurt yourself, which was valid because he was always your source of comfort.

Later...

"What happened to your eye?"

"I...fell...out of the bed..."

"...."

You are on the verge of making Ace cry.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x you #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #sanji x reader #monkey d luffy #luffy x you #luffy x reader #usopp #usopp x reader #usopp x you #portgas d ace #ace x you #ace x reader #one piece #op #op x reader #op x you

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fatuismooches · 5 months ago

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More Dottore and Fragile Reader voice lines, except it's your turn this time. A part two to this. Previous voice lines are here.

About Prime Dottore:

"Zandik. My one and only… words cannot express my tenderness and love toward him. I refuse to forget any moment I've spent with him. Not once has he given up on me, despite the times I’ve given up on myself. And he has always taken care of me, not once faltering in over four hundred years. I- I don’t know what to do sometimes when faced with that information. I wish I could be… less of a burden on him…”

About Omega:

"Omega, huh... he is the only segment where I always spend time with completely alone. See, he's not prone to sharing, just like Prime. I don't mind much, honestly, it's nice to get away from all of the noise and be with him. He always coaxes me to be more selfish too... is it a good or bad thing he's influencing me?"

About Alpha:

"Yes, the grumpy cutie I met all those years ago, the start of it all. He says that my presence is a hindrance and it only disrupts his work, but we both know that's false. Often, I like to sit by him as he writes his notes, pointing out all the errors caused by the atrocity of his handwriting... Sometimes, I feel bad using him as a reminder of the past."

About Beta:

"It always baffles me that Beta was once how Dottore acted. I mean, have you seen the difference between 'Mega and Beta? Anyway... he's always such a fun segment to hang around! Even when his assistants cower behind me in fear! Oh, and whenever he goes 'he-he-ho-ho', it always makes me giggle. Please don't tell him I did that impression of him though."

About Delta:

"Oh, Delta's... pretty mean. A really big meanie, if I do say so myself. He never laughs, never smiles, never entertains my shenanigans, always sees right through me... so rude. Huh? Don't worry about me, I'm allowed to talk about him like this. I still love him, after all."

About Zeta:

"Zeta's always so elusive! It was such a pain to track him down at first, he was always avoiding me. I thought he hated me... but once I got a hold of him, he is always so attentive to me! However, it greatly saddens me that he thinks he "failed" me... and yet he doesn't know how much it hurts me more that I've caused him to be like this."

About Zandy:

"Have you met my son? He's the sweetest little thing, isn't he? I remember how shy he was in the beginning, but he quickly grew to be such a dear. Always so excited and eager for attention. I can't help but wonder if Dottore's life could have been different if more people were kinder to him as a child."

About Pierro:

"I will always be indebted to him and Her Highness for taking me in. He is pretty scary to be around, but I feel sort of bad for him. I can't imagine how much responsibility he has... I once promised him I'd work for the Fatui once I'm better, but he didn't react much. Hmph, I'll show him how much I can boost Dottore's efficiency!"

About Capitano:

"The only thing I really know about him is that he's incredibly strong and well respected, at least from other people. The single time I met him, I also learned he was quite well liked by animals too, but it's hard to get any more information when he's so quiet..."

About Columbina:

"Bina is the best friend I've always wanted. I'm glad she's always there for me whenever things go bad. Although I can never predict what she's going to do or say, which is pretty strange, considering who I'm with, that makes her company all the more fun. Still, the amount of embarrassing situations she's tricked me into with Dottore... makes my head hurt."

About Arlecchino:

"I wish we could be closer, but I don't think it'll ever happen. I can't really blame her though, the relationship between her and Dottore is... not the greatest, for reasons I understand. I wonder what she thinks of me, the person who still stands by his side despite his sins?"

About Pulcinella:

"Oh... the little grandpa? I've always wondered how he's the fifth rank, but there's probably more to it than I know. Regardless, I didn't expect him to be so kind to me. I only see him once in a while, but every time he seems to know how I'm doing. And then, he proceeds to give me the best advice, exactly what I needed to hear at that moment, even when it has to do with Dottore. It's kind of scary..."

About Scaramouche:

"Ah yes... the Balladeer. He always wants to start up something with me whenever we cross paths, which is why my patience runs very thin around him. I hope the next time he goes into the Abyss, he gets stuck there."

About Wanderer:

"Who?"

About Sandrone:

"Her research sounds so cool! I've seen some of the things she can create, and it's completely fascinating. I too once had a love for machines back when I was a student. It's just a shame she never comes out of her lab... there are never any chances for me to talk with her. Well, I can always talk with Alpha and Beta about their research at least."

About La Signora:

"I've barely ever seen or spoken to her, but she has my respect. I heard what happened to her husband. If I ever lost Dottore, I'm not sure if I'd be able to go on... or at least be as half as strong as she is."

About Pantalone:

"Oh, Lone's one of my good friends! He always has such unique ideas for me to get back at Dottore, and listening to him talk about his theories quite reminds me of listening to Dottore. He's helped me a lot, dealing with this man. Still... as he does with everyone, I'm kept at arm's length. It doesn't bother me, but I wish I could help him in some way. But I know that'll never be possible."

About Childe:

"Despite being a Harbinger, he's a lot nicer than you'd think. Well, especially compared to the others in the Fatui. He's great at conversation, his family is the sweetest... and he always promises to spar with me once I'm no longer sick. Truly great company. Too bad Dottore's attitude toward him is... less than favorable."

About Furina:

"At first I hated her just like all the other Gods, but after learning the truth, I can't help but greatly respect her. To take on such a burden without having a single shoulder to lean on and succeed in the end... I think I've been through a lot of pain, but at least I've had Dottore and the others to ease it even just a bit. But she had no one, and I admire her will."

About Nahida:

"I try not to waste my time on things that upset me. It's not good for my health."

Sprint Start:

"No, no, I am not running at all. Look, if I get hurt and Dottore finds out it was your fault, you'll be the ones strapped to the table, not me. Hey... I wouldn't mind being in that position, actually."

Chat - Worry:

"I hope that one day he can make peace with himself."

Chat - Old Times:

"Sometimes I wish I was just a simple student again, having no worries other than my grades and pulling all-nighters with Dottore. Actually, that doesn't really sound relaxing, does it?"

Chat - Idling:

"If you're just going to stand here doing nothing, then I'm going to take a seat over there."

When it Snows:

"Would you be willing to distract Dottie so I can chuck a snowball at him? No? How boring."

When the Sun is Out:

"It's a perfect day to have a picnic and listen to him rant again."

In the Desert:

"... Omega, Beta, Delta, I don't care which one of you does it, get over here and make your hands completely ice cold before I faint."

Something to Share - Talent:

"If you ever need help writing something, you can ask me. I wrote some pretty good essays back in the day, you know. Dottore once said I should even write a book! I thought he was bullying me, but he was actually serious, for some reason. Maybe I should get Zandy to draw some pictures?"

Something to Share - Secret:

"Dottore actually has quite a sweet tooth. Well, this probably isn't much of a secret anymore because I accidentally spilled it to the agents, but it would do you good to keep this in mind."

Interesting Things - Foxttore:

"This little guy here? He'll do you no harm unless I say so, so don't worry. He was one of Dottie's failed experiments roaming the lab until he gifted the creature to me! These pufflings too, surprisingly they help me a lot more than you'd think. They're pretty strong, carrying all my things."

Favorite Pastimes - Meals:

"It's time to eat already? No need to worry about me, I'll just wait for a segment. See, it's best for both of us if I have company while I eat. My hands... aren't the most reliable."

Troubles:

"I am very happy that they have a good place to conduct all the research they want, but I wish they paid some more attention to me sometimes. Voicing this complaint over and over again, however, is too exhausting."

Amusement:

"Dottore's fan club never ceases to amuse me. I know every Harbinger has one but... it's completely hilarious. To go so far as creating a handbook about the two of us... well, I appreciate the dedication and the laughs, especially when I update Dottore on their activities. He may not care, but I support them!"

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #zandy bb <3 #playable reader <3 #dottore x reader #can we get more playable reader asks pls #im humbly begging my anons #im crazy for them #divider by cafekitsune

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apollosdaydreams · 1 year ago

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Let Me In

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: You are dating Lando Norris, you love him don’t get me wrong but sometimes he can be a bit forgetful. Lando loves to game when he's not busy with racing, often streaming while he plays. When he streams it's like the outside world doesn't exist. You were coming over and you had forgotten your keys to his place, and Lando had his phone on silent.

Warnings: None fluff, adult language. I have no clue how twitch works so sorry if i get that wrong.

Word Count: 590

You were currently standing outside Lando’s apartment, you had forgotten your keys and were waiting for him to answer his phone. As time went by you realized that he wasn't going to answer his phone. So you went on twitter and saw that lando was streaming on twitch. You sighed out loud and rolled your eyes. Mumbling on how forgetful he can be when you put a screen in front of his face.

“Fucking I-Pad kid” You mummbled to you self, while slightly laughing at your situation, of course this would happen to you. It wasn't even Lando’s fault, you had forgotten the keys.

While standing outside his door thinking what to do, you decided that you should see if he would see your comment. So you downloaded twitch and made an account. You then looked up his account and followed him, you clicked on the live and waited. Nothing happened. So you decided that the next best thing was to subscribe, so you put in your credit card info and then it went through. You then saw that you could add a message. On the screen it read “y/n y/l/n has subscribed! Please let me in Lando. :)”

“Oh shit!” Lando said while laughing. “My girlfriend! She's on twitch telling me to open the door!” I'll be back guys. You laughed to yourself and stood there waiting. You then saw the door opening. You pretend to look mad, but that only lasted about a second before you both bursted out laughing.

“I'm sorry baby.” He said while hugging you and pulling you into the apartment.

“It's fine lands, it's my fault anyway I'm the one who forgot the keys.” You told him.

“But I should have been looking at my phone.” He said, while walking back to his streaming room.

“Lando, look at me. It's fine. It's my fault, honestly it's actually hilarious.” You told him while laughing. “You better get back to you steam babe, don't want to keep them waiting for too long.” You said.

“I'll be done soon love.” He said, before he left he kissed you and then went back into his streaming room.

You decided to have fun watching him on your phone, as you had to pay, better put it to good use. You sat in the living room on the couch, waiting for Lando to be done streaming.

“Sorry guys, I'm back.” Lando said. “My girlfriend was locked out of my apartment, so I had to go save her.” He said. “She had to subscribe to me!” He laughed. “I gained a subscription so I'm happy!”

You laughed out loud at this, you didn't realize how loud you laughed until you heard Lando addressing you on the stream. “Sorry guys, that was my girlfriend.” He said with the biggest smile on his face. After a few minutes of his staying on Twitch, he told the viewers that it was time for him to go hang out with you, his girlfriend. You turned off your phone and saw him walking into the living room.

“Hi baby.” He said while flopping down on the couch, his head laying in your lap. You moved your hand to his head, running your hand through his curls.

“Hey lands.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Lando, if you say sorry one more time I'm going to leave.” you jokingly said. “Don't feel sorry, it’s my fault I'm the idiot who forgot my keys.”

“I love you so much,” Lando said.

“You are sleeping on the couch tonight.” You said.

I hope you guys enjoyed this, it would be greatly appreciated if you would like, comment and repost this!! Sorry about the end it was kinda rushed. Sorry for not posting much, I'm busy with college but Thanksgiving break is happening soon, so I hope to write a lot during that time. If you guys have any ideas for me, my requests are still open!!

Request Guidlines

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phyrestartr · 1 month ago

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Deal With It | Gojo Satoru x M!Reader (TEASER)

CW: Arranged marriage, SELF-HARM (on and off-screen), hurt/comfort, angst, drama, self-loathing, blood and gore, implied depression, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideation #NSFW, probably top Gojo, probably bottom reader, maybe switch idk, idek if they'll bang it out tbh lol, angst with a happy ending, reader is a sorcerer, time skips, time progression, relationship development, student era into teacher era Note: I got this request to make a story revolving around Gojo and an arranged marriage to the reader (but bro is in love with Getou sob.gif), and I've been RUMINATING on it for forever. I think I finally have a good idea of who the reader is/what their chemistry is like with Gojo, so I'm happy to post a wee bit of a teaser to motivate myself! Let me know your thoughts---I'm finding that I absolutely love writing for Gojo, so I'm down to write more LOL. He's a very fun, complex character.

Deal With It

“So, you really don’t care what he thinks?” Shoko asked as you lit her cigarette. “Even I think he was kinda harsh.”

You pocketed your lighter and leaned back against the cold stone of the college walls. “He’s got a thing for that black-haired guy.”

“Getou.”

“Sure.” You shrugged and tried to rub the ache out of your neck as you stared up at the bleak, grey skies. The air reeked of petrichor. Thankfully you’d brought an umbrella that day.

“And you’re not bothered he’s in love with Getou?” Your friend continued, her cute bobbed haircut swaying with the tilt of her head. She always looked so charming like that, when she was being a mischievous brat while pretending to be anything but.

“Dunno.” And that was the truth. “He’s not even my type. I’d rather hitch up with someone like you or Nanami. Someone less annoying. Less loud-mouthed.”

“Ooh, that'll hurt his ego.” Shoko smiled. “Well, guess you'll have to learn to deal with it.”

You took a deep breath and rubbed your face as you nodded. “Yeah.”

–

“Forever is a long time,” You mumbled, leaning your forehead against the cool touch of the window. Rain pittered and pattered, exploding off the glass like trillions of kamikaze planes. It almost birthed some sort of hurt in your chest. Best not to dwell on it, you decided.

“Hah? Are you talking to yourself again like a weirdo?” The one and only Gojo Satoru yowled before kicking you in the rear like a petulant child. “Pft! Figures. Knowing my luck, I would have to get married to a creeper.”

“Even if you married Getou, you'd still be marrying a creep,” you grumbled, dusting the dirt off your behind. “You need something? Or did you harass me just for the fun of it.”

You heard Gojo, your fiancé, scoff and shuffle behind you. “I just wanted to remind you to humble yourself! Just because I'm forced to marry you doesn't mean you're accomplished or cool or anything, got it?”

Being in his presence had you craving a cigarette. “Yeah, got it.”

“And Suguru's better than you,” he added, aloof voice bowing down beneath hardened, steeled words. “Don't forget that either.”

You bit down on your cheek to ward away the heat building under your skin, the magma sinking deep into your eyesockets and threatening to pour down your esophagus. The taste of iron washed against your tongue, and you released your flesh from between your molars. Sometimes, you wanted to keep boring down on yourself to see how much you could really take, but a fear of the answer too often made you think twice.

“This is starting to bore me,” you said, tilting your head as you caught a flicker of red in your rain-muddied reflection. You touched your fingers to your tongue and found translucent red coating the tips.

“Pah. I was gonna say the same!” You watched his reflection turn away. “Good luck trying to impress me.”

I'm not interested. You watched him walk away, slouching and with his hands in his pockets like he was emulating some kind of yankii character. He might have fit the bill, if he hadn't had such a ridiculous, brat side to him. Just deal with it. You wiped the red on your uniform with a sigh. Tomorrow's a new day.

Feel free to comment on this post if you want to be tagged for the full version!

@kamote-kuneho @tr4nnie @silvern1006

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satansdarlin · 2 months ago

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Blue stained glass

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

MDNI

Rating: E

Word count: 8.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart nearly stopped. "You knew?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nearly a year later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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sarahreesbrennan · 2 months ago

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Thank you for writing Long Live Evil.

I'm no cancer survivor, so I haven't been through the horror that that must've been, congratulations to enduring and surviving, and my sincere condolences that you had to go through it.

But I am chronically ill (cystic fibrosis, genetic defect) and have so far lived for 5 years longer than my prognosis allowed. My health's been good and stabile for a long time now, but I remember times where I couldn't walk alone, had a 18/6 nasal cannula and a 24-hour IV drip instead of school or a future.

Now I'm working at university, an archaeologist, chipping away at writing stories for years and years, and incredibly glad and privileged to see the world. All this to say that seeing how hurt Rae was in the beginning (and again throughout the story, while also never truly forgetting her true roots and motives) and how she grew around it like a gnarled tree, was like catharsis for me. Having miraculously given a second chance, no matter how hard the fight to keep it will be; I haven't ever read any story talking about this in a way that made me feel seen and understood like this. Thank you also lots and lots for taking the time to mention Rae's appreciation for Rahela's curves — it's been the same for me, since I've managed to get out of the underweight-trap. It means a lot to me, and I guess to many others in similar situations, including you of course. Thank you for sharing this with us, it must've been hard to touch on a deeply personal experience like this in writing that's simultaneously removed from oneself through fiction (at least that's what I'm imagining).

Thank you, and I wish you nothing but the best, health, and lots of good days to come. Deeply curious to see how Rae's story will continue!

Thank you so much for this.

I am so glad you are alive. Thank you for that, too - for living on even when you couldn’t see a way forward and everything was helpless despair.

I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, either, but it’s a privilege to have shared adjoining experiences trapped in darkness, and to share gladness and the wide world with you now. I’m so sorry it happened, and so happy you have archaeology and stories, and the world has you.

I will be totally honest and say it has been hard sharing Long Live Evil with the world, and I’m so grateful to you for knowing that, and for sending this message because you knew. This book is highly personal to me, but it’s also meant to be a wild celebration of messiness, escapism, and finding humour in art and darkness. And that means to some it’s just a joke, and in the words of Joanna Russ, ‘she’s not really an artist and it’s not really art.’ And so it gets dismissed, and it does hurt to see my most important story dismissed sometimes.

I was with other writers in a public space at one point and they were talking about how their books were about serious issues while ‘Sarah’s book is just for fun, and that’s fine too!’ (I had to take a minute before I could lean into my microphone and say ‘My book is about cancer’ in a cheery tone.) I’ve seen readers saying ‘this book’s just fluff, just silly, I’m ashamed of myself for reading it, there’s nothing to it’ about the book I wrote about almost dying.

My Rae, while of course she has bits of me in her (every character I’ve ever written does), and evil queens I’ve loved, and characters with wild hubris going on in the Greek plays I mention often in the book, and readers I’ve seen and I’ve been who are blithely confident they know what’s going on without doing more than surface reading and while forgetting key details… she’s also bits of women and girls I’ve mentored, been mentored by, befriended. And some of them are dead. So seeing the bits that were them particularly scorned or judged, seeing her pain dismissed or the discussion of her body sneered at…

That has been hard.

But.

In the end I believe I am really an artist and this book is really art, and art is there for the wide world to judge - to be mocked and dismissed, yes, as a price that comes with the opportunity to also be truly seen and appreciated, to get to influence real people’s real lives. Art is the gold that comes from the crucible in which we put all our pain and all our love and all our joys. I believe it deepens and transforms.

I wrote this book about how deeply unsympathetic people actually are to sufferers of illness, chronic or otherwise, and especially to women expressing pain. How the world villainises imperfect victims—which means all victims. How the world villainises bodies, and robs us of our joy in them—even when there’s horror in a body, too. I did know that by putting this book out into this world, that attitude would be reflected back by the world onto the book. And that attitude has hurt me in the past, and hurts me when I see it now.

I still think it’s worth calling out that attitude, even if it means getting more of that attitude reflected back onto me - because it means readers like you see it, and know others have been through this, and it was never okay, and you were never alone. While I know there will also be readers with chronic illnesses and/or cancer whose experience doesn’t overlap with mine at all, that only means there need to be more stories. So everyone who needs it gets the map into fantasy lands.

And I do hope some able-bodied readers read it, and think twice about adopting the world’s attitude to the people in their lives who are already going through enough. Some readers have told me the book helped them sympathise with and understand the cancer sufferers in their family and friend circles, and that’s meant a great deal. What do we write for, if not to learn to love each other better?

Long Live Evil has also given me my life back, as truly as chemo did, in a way that makes the pain worthwhile - I think I would have kept telling stories in some form, but Long Live Evil was my last throw, for as far ahead as I could see. Now since the book’s done well so far I’m hoping I can write more books, and my life can be the storytelling shape I always wanted it to be.

I read your message and I regretted nothing. I remember the pain and the way so many of us laughed or tried to laugh our way through it, and I know this was my way. Jokes, like stories, are the golden thread we follow through the dark labyrinth of our own agony and incomprehension.

It really has been hard, and it’ll stay hard. But like living, it’s worth it.

Please know two things.

I am so happy I wrote this book. Ultimately more than any other feeling I had so, so much fun writing it, and I’m having even more fun seeing the book be read by the people it was meant for.

2. This book was written for you.

#long live evil #chronic illness #cancer #epic fantasy #isekai #books and reading #criticism #portal fantasy #rae parilla #body horror positivity

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throwawayhero · 5 months ago

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hi!! could you do a kirishima bf headcanons? i feel like nobody ever writes for my boy, thank you! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Of course omg??? He doesn’t get the amount of love he deserves ong. One of the best characters imo, kill me if I'm wrong!! He’s been my favourite for YEARSSS and I will never get tired of him. Some of these are a bit random but I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

Eijirou!Kirishima who always walks to school and/or class with you. He’ll wait for as long as you need him to with little to no complaints (most of the time..)! He’ll just hang around in your dorm trying to look unsuspecting as he looks at your stuff while you rush to get ready. He especially loves to snoop through your trinkets.

“.. Hey, I didn’t know you still had this!”

“Neither did I..”

“Oh—“

Eijirou!Kirishima who actually takes care of his physical appearance/personal hygiene. He doesn't have a sociopathic 30 step skin care routine but don't be surprised when his bathroom drawer is full of hit or miss products that he's tried out. Will give tips about finding good products if asked about it. He always smells SO good. He also has hair products he uses to get the red dye to last longer.

"Hey, can I borrow this?"

"That made my skin super irritated, try this one."

Eijirou!Kirishima who always supports you and your hobbies, even if they only last a week. He's always up for being a test subject of sorts. Painting/drawing? He's ordering you top quality paints and pencils. Reading? Tell him about the characters, the drama, the romance, the plot twists, he's invested. Crochet/knitting? He's wearing the sweater you made him, even if it is a little bit itchy. Yoga? He bought matching yoga mats! He's ALWAYS supportive, now matter how extreme.

"Any other hobbies peaked your interest?"

"Rock climbing."

"..Sounds like fun!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who NEVER forgets to text you good morning/night. He forgot once and showed up to your dorm to apologise (You hadn't even woken up yet). Sometimes he sends little GIFs too.

'Good morning beautiful!! 💗💗💗'

Eijirou!Kirishima who has a highlight on instagram dedicated to pictures of you and things that remind him of you. He doesn't really post on social media, but when he does, 80% of the time it's about you. He also sends you a bunch of those lovey-dovey quotes from Facebook. His captions on photos are always so sweet.

'Spent the day Go-Karting with my beautiful girlfriend! Can't believe how lucky I am! #gokart #love #girlfriend'

Eijirou!Kirishima who is the KING of PDA, to an extent of course. He will kiss you anywhere, in front of anyone. Oh my GOD does this man know how to give good hugs. He's always holding your hand/wrist/finger no matter what you're doing. You could be on a walk, in a line, grocery shopping, or just sitting down together. He's always by your side :)

"..Can you let go of my hand so I can scan the groceries?"

"No but I'll help you!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who GUSHES about you to his friends. This man is head over heels and everyone knows it. He doesn't necessarily believe in soulmates but he does believe that you were the one he was meant to find. He gets this horribly happy look on his face when he thinks about a future with you that everyone can't help but laugh at. He talks about said future all the time.

"When do you want to get married?"

"..What?"

"I wanna know when to start editing my vows."

"..Editing??"

Eijirou!Kirishima who is a bit of a restless sleeper. And when I say restless, I truly mean it. This man will roll on top of you and just lay there, sprawling out and snoring happily. You have been and will continue to be kicked. One time you had woken up to him rolling off the bed.

"You slapped me in your sleep last night."

"Oops. You should've slapped me back!"

"I did."

Eijirou!Kirishima who goes all out on dates. He'll take you to a fancy restaurant and wear a suit and tie with his hair done nicely. He'll ask you to wear something pretty beforehand so that you know not to underdress. He arrives at your house/dorm with flowers and the biggest smile you'll ever see (besides your wedding day). He'll treat you like the princess you deserve!

"You're stunning, hun.. where would I be without you?"

#kirishima eijirou #bnha eijirou #mha eijirou #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima imagine #mha kirishima #bnha eijiro kirishima #kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima fluff #hcs #boyfriend #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #kiri #throwawayhero

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dvar-trek · 16 days ago

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sharks 😭 please tend to nikolai kovalenko. i am writing out notes for u like i'm leaving him at the catsitter's but ugm. i love he.

● his dad, andrei kovalenko, was also an av, and was nicknamed "the tank" ○ kolya is um. not that big yet. ○ he is still only a jeep (but he plays like he thinks he's a tank) ● here is what he had to say after his first ever nhl game: "everyone's so big. i try to hit but they not falling" ● the avs traded his dad away in december 1995 in exchange for a goalie (patrick roy). so i guess they can bond over that ? ● he was born in raleigh, north carolina, while his dad was playing for the canes (i just think that's neat) ○ they moved back to russia when he was only 2 though ● his english is not the best yet, and the guys don't always understand him, but he's still never not yapping ● on being ready for the first day of school the new season: “I play only 200%, not less, because it’s my favorite game in the world. First thing - work. Second thing - fun, enjoy the game.” ● through pre-season and the start of the season, when the avs were all playing like shit every night, kolya was stepping up ○ he does make. um. mistakes. sometimes ○ like for example, his first nhl game was during the playoffs and he made a panic bad decision that led to a goal against (iirc) ○ media asked the hc what he should do instead in that situation ○ answer: "well, he can't do that." ○ he's making enormous progress though. making better decisions all the time. and the skill is definitely there. he is going to be. so fucking good. ● his wife is uhm. very beautiful 😳 and they have a tiny adorable stupid dog named Teddy ● the avs made him wear the giant hat (player of the game item) when he got his first nhl goal ○ and yes, that picture is framed in his home with the puck

pplease i hope that you will love and cherish him 🥺 he is my most favorite rookie. don'tt forget to water him, and call me if he scores a goal, okay?

#sharks lb #<- idk where else to put this #my heart is breakingggg #at least he's going to a good home (team i am fond of)#when you guys uh. x the y with him in 5 years (or whatever)#i will be there with the camcorder and tears in my eyes #shepping nachas #💕#hockey #nikolai kovalenko

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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 months ago

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Date me? —(Ron Weasley xGN!Reader)

A/N: I never write for my boy it's time I change that. Will do a part two if most of you ask for it leaving a comment or reblogging! -Danny Summary: Lazy afternoon with your friend who you're definitely not crushing on. Words: 821

Warnings: This is basically a 'hear me out' one-shot between friends Twoidiots Masterlist

You could always count on Ron to have the best treats. You could also always count on him when you wanted to sit around and do nothing. Today, you two have decided to do nothing in the common room.

Hermione had gone off with Neville and Hannah Abbott to finish some extra work only they would be eager to finish on a Sunday, and Harry was somewhere in the castle with Ginny, which left the two of you with little to do, not that you were complaining.

"What if the Giant has a nice complexion?"

"I'm still not shagging the giant, Y/N," Ron snorted. You had been going at this 'what if' game for hours, first starting with classmates you knew, but now you'd moved on to more... particular options.

"Okay, but what if it's one of the smaller giants?"

"Would still break a leg trying to get it on," Ron laughed. "I'm not shagging a giant, I'm telling you."

"Ron, you're not playing the game right! It's not about being realistic, you just wonder about it sometimes, no need to explain. For example, my pick is Mer-people."

"They're not a bad pick, everyone has thought of it!"

You laugh. "No, they don't! You're just as mental as me!"

"Fine! You want mental, I'll give you mental," Ron's ears blushed a little but he kept talking anyway. "I think if I had to pick, I'd go with Dementors."

You hold back a laugh and answer in a shaky voice. "Is the mo—?"

"Their mouth is huge!" Ron nods, finishing your sentence.

You cackle, holding your stomach. Ron watches you with mirth, also laughing. When the amusement subsides, you wipe your tears and sit up. "Well, but that's almost like doing it with a corpse, isn't it? Aren't dementors like dead people?"

"I have no idea and I don't wish to find out. Besides, you said being realistic spoils the fun."

"True. Sorry to bring it up." You grin.

Ron chuckled, popping a piece of hard candy into his mouth before replying. "I've got another question."

"Shoot!"

"If you had to pick one of us —one of us four, I mean— which one would you date?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, come on, Ronald, are we circling back to sleepover inquires? That's not even half as fun!"

"Answer the question and I'll go back to the weird ones, then!"

"Fine," you ponder. "Definitely not Harry, he's too thick to understand when someone is flirting with him..."

"All of us are," Ron snorts.

"Well, yeah, but he's the worst," you grin. "And he would find a way to make it awkward anyway, you know he's always reacting in the weirdest ways..."

"Fair enough. That leaves 'Mione and I."

"Well, dating you would mean I would be paying for all the food you ate at our dates, which isn't my idea of fun..."

"Oi! I would have some control, and I wouldn't be letting you pay for everything!" He argues.

"Ah yes, I suppose you'd tip," you tease him. He throws the wrapper of his candy at you, making you chortle. Then you continue to ponder, making a face. "Ah, but then Hermione would never have time for me, would she? It's all school and S.P.E.W., and I have the feeling she'd forget our dates constantly so I'd be basically a fixture on the wall..."

"So it's back to me, then," he smiled with clear satisfaction. "I knew you'd pick me. I'm the looks of this operation."

You snort. "Alright, so who would you pick?"

"Well, can't date Harry because I wouldn't steal my sister's boyfriend, she'd kill me."

"Very wise."

"So I would date you."

You blinked, surprised by his quick decision-making. "What about Hermione?"

"Well, it's like you said, I would only be taking up space in her schedule, and we'd bicker all the time, not that I'd be any better at remembering dates and stuff, but let's face it, I do need attention."

"And you think I'm the right call for that?" You smirked, trying not to sound or look as pleased as you felt.

"Definitely." He mirrored your expression. "You do it all the time already, you come to me when you're looking to have a fun time, so that's something to consider, isn't it?"

"Hm," you nodded pensively. "I s'ppose you're right. Well, how nice of us to pick each other," you joked, trying to rid of the funny feeling in your tummy by playing it down.

"Reckon so, yeah," Ron's smile softened, which only made the butterflies in your stomach go even crazier.

You grabbed a chocolate frog and stuffed it in your mouth, needing to do something other than stare at him. "So," you chew messily. "Harry's life is on the line and you have to french-kiss Umbridge to save him. Would you do it?"

Ron gawked. "Can I do the giant instead?"

Taglist.

@i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @siriuslysirius1107 @aleksosoto @aconfusedslytherin @talksoprettyjjx @23victoria @moonhoonie @raajali @espressopatronum454 @tokkishouse @slytherinnqueen @typicalsolangelolover @Kai-wifey @j-cat @inkandpen22 @theeicedamericano @hamiltonwc @thelastpyle @emilyyyvalenzuelaaa @azura-mist @tomshollandz @cedricisnotdead @letsfly-andbe-free @meetmyblondemuffins @emilyefronhudgens @aggressivevillian @avengersz-biotch @peachyaeger @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @impulse-anchor @mayoforthewin @mikaelsonwhxrebae @sputnik-01 @angelhugsaresweet @slytherinambitious @outofst1le @na1ven3vy @architect-2015 @writingmia @arey0usirius

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #ron weasley x reader #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley

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koolades-world · 7 months ago

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I absolutely LOVE your headcanons esp the Indian ones they make me feel quite seen even if I'm from a country that have super similar cultures (Mauritius) 💗🫶

But now I have to ask, I'm the eldest cousin so whenever there's a family gathering I'm usually the one stuck looking after all of my little cousins so if I brought one of the brothers with me they would all be wondering who he is to me and would interview him just being like, "Are you his boyfriend?!?!?!"

Any chance I could get any headcanons for the brothers for this? Completely okay if you can't!

hello! yes of course :)

this request was send in more recently but I just got back from a family gathering (as of 5/25 this is very prewritten haha) and got a fresh taste of this because im the eldest cousin too! i understand your pain haha. all of my cousins are little. chasing after kids you sometimes barely know the name of in a sari, lehenga, or salwar kameez is no fun

god this will be so fun to write!! (there’s still a whole bunch of random aunties, uncles and little kids at the house so I’m hiding since I don’t get to leave until tomorrow) like yesterday, most of this was written on mobile since I’m traveling so excuse autocorrect please :)

enjoy <3

Mc who babysits their younger cousins at a family gathering w/ the brothers

Lucifer

he’s getting war flashbacks /j haha and it’s written all over his face

he left home to get away from his brothers and basically entered an environment that’s exactly the same but with easily one hundred times the people

he’s almost impressed on their ability to never shut up and now knows why you’re so good at handling his family

however, he is dadcifer™️ so he’s great with the kids, and will try his best to answer their questions, even ones regarding your relationship status

Mammon

nothing gets past kids, and they can sense his weakness when he’s talking about you. they are ruthless

before they can break him, you have to step in and tell them to pick one question each to ask. he’s not sure how you’re corralled them so well, or how you can even tell some of them apart to the point of reprimanding them for tricking him. no wonder you can keep his family in line

once he realizes your job isn’t over until the night ends and their parents come to get their kids, he tries to sneak off a few times, but he always ends up with a couple shadows and has to come back

eventually he’s resigned to his fate, and finds he much prefers the cute little babies since they’re more than happy to mess with his jewelry, and he gets to pinch their cute little chubby cheeks <3

Levi

as much as he hates it, the kids love him and whatever device he brought along to play with

after promising to replace anything they break, he sits down and plays games with them and finds out he actually enjoys it

the older ones actually engage in the game with him and ask him game related questions, which he's more than happy to answer, and the younger ones can be handed a disconnected controller and still be kept happy

this is to the point where the kids actually forget to question him about who he is, and only ask if he'll be at the next event. who is he to say no?

Satan

you’re prepared, and he thinks he is too until he gets there haha. but, he keeps it together and adapts well

you’ve thought of just about everything, from wearing extra, cheaper bangles to hand to them to keep them happy to man knowing every trick in the book to get them to finish their dinner and he can only hope to reach that level someday

he's very collected though, he tries his best to deflect their questions and keep them off that topic

however, part of him knows that's impossible and eventually he caves and just answers the questions to the best of his ability, hoping you aren't listening. never have you seen him so out of his element

Asmo

if it’s a dry event and for some reason isn’t on the dance floor, or there wasn’t one to begin with, he’s so in love with the job you hate so much haha

he’s so attentive with the kids and adores them. he’s got lots of tricks up his sleeve to keep them entertained

of course, he owns it when one kid asks if he’s your boyfriend and proudly tells them yes, he is, (even if he’s not) and answers any other questions they have even if you’re embarrassed

now, the kids look forward to seeing him and expect him everytime

Beel

he’s very chill and almost finds it enjoyable, mostly there to keep you from losing your mind

when the kids eventually decide the food they picked out wasn’t what they wanted, and instead whatever he’s eating, he’s more than happy to share with them. after, they’re you’re flesh and blood, so they’re his family too

of course he’s their jungle gym and he takes turns tossing them in the air, and giving piggy back rides

he’s not quite sure how to respond to all of their questions, but as long as you’re alright with it, he’ll answer honestly

Belphie

as a youngest himself, he’s overwhelmed. is this what he’s like?

the kids won’t let him sneak away to nap, because they’re hyper aware of everything and will catch him

honestly, he’s more annoyed than anything, but he might take a liking to a few and spend all his time with them. he feels like he’s being attacked by all the questions

he’s a lot nicer to you after that, since he realized that’s your life, and he only got a small taste of it

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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xanasaurusrex · 1 year ago

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⇢ ˗ˏˋ zeus cabin headcanons ࿐ྂ

a/n: these are my headcanons for the children of zeus! i love thinking about what traits kids of certain gods and goddesses would have, and since zeus is the king of the gods, i thought it would only be fitting to start with zeus! these are less about like powers and stuff like that and more just about how they would be as people!

zeus kids can get kinda crazy

they're always the life of the party, and yet somehow they also shut down the party?

they're just good at knowing when things are getting too out of hand

speaking of knowing things

it's almost as if they have a sixth sense in knowing things, just like general things

oh this person liked this other person

the zeus kids already knew

you cheated on your math test?

yeah, they had a feeling

that kinda stuff

zeus kids also all weirdly have this universal little tic where when they're really bored, they'll rub their hands against something that can create static, and then play with the static in their hands

they can do the thing where they kind of roll it from one finger to another, and then back again

they can also utilize this to shock people, but only ever so slightly

technically they could summon a whole storm and electrocute someone, but very rarely do they have that urge

another thing to mention:

zeus children can hold a grudge

they're masters at being mad at someone for something they did days, weeks, months, or even years in the past that likely they forgot they did

but zeus kids didn't

they never forget

honestly even a bad first impression can really affect your relationship with a child of zeus, because they don't forget things easily

their minds are steel traps

children of zeus are also natural born leaders

this can cause quite the scene when there are multiple zeus kids up for a leadership position because they all fall into a leader role just naturally

a lot of people appreciate this because they're saved from having to lead themselves

but others find this incredibly annoying, and think that zeus kids are all very arrogant and full of themselves

there are some that are like that, thinking they're better because their dad is zeus

but that kind of reaction to being a child of zeus is pretty rare

most of the time it brings them great annoyance because monsters can smell them from farther away, and it makes them much more eligible for dangerous quests, which sometimes is a good thing, but when the mortality rate for a quest that dangerous is usually 0, it can be a little daunting

probably the best trait that children of zeus possess is their loyalty

i understand that this probably doesn't make much sense, considering the fact that zeus was never really known for being very loyal to pretty much anyone in his life

but zeus kids are

this is observed the best during battle, when they would do anything and everything for the people fighting alongside them

they're loyal friends and lovers, too

which, again, doesn't make a lot of sense when looking at who their dad is

but a lot of their lives have been negatively affected by him being disloyal, so a lot of them have a tendency to make sure they're loyal so that they don't end up like him

as amazing as zeus thinks he is, a lot of his kids aren't his biggest fans

in conclusion, zeus kids are pretty cool

they definitely have their flaws

(such as having a tendency to flake last minute when it comes to making plans with other people)

but ultimately they're pretty good people

they're very skilled when it comes to battle, and they're good friends

basically just good people to surround yourself with

a/n: so i won't be doing author's notes at the end of everything, but i just wanted to thank you for reading my very first official post! i'm going to be doing headcanons for the other gods and goddesses, both major and minor, because i just find writing for that kinda stuff really fun! also i really love headcanons (totally not because they're easier to write than full fics, definitely not at all)

anyways, thanks for reading, and be on a lookout for more stuff in the future!

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #demigods #demigod stuff #zeus #children of zeus #zeus kids #jason grace x reader #percy jackson x reader #thalia grace x reader #zeus x reader

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chrisisvbun · 2 months ago

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Okay, now I need more Logan and Bunny!Girl 😩

a/n: ur wish is my command.

guilty as sin. logan howlett x bunny!femreader. part OO2.

a/n 2: btw I'm trying this new cute little layouts tell me if you like them:) i've been really inactive bcs of work shit and been really sick too, but im writing i swear

synopsis: After peace came to the mansion after your arrival, you did not have another encounter with Logan, so spending time with Ororo became a regular thing for you, although Logan doesn't seem to like it.

cw: PTSD related to prostitution and sex, depression, harrasment. a bit of ooc logan, mentions of sex.

words: 2.7k

first.

You liked Logan.

Well, ‘like” is a pretty vague word, but that’s the one that fits better. You liked him. He was handsome, he was fun, he was sweet with you and you were comfortable around him. You liked that teasing game that you used to have with him, mostly he was bothering you until you slapped his shoulder while he laughed.

So, why wouldn’t you date him? He was clearly into you too

Oh, such a silly answer. You got shy.

Because of your nature you are almost forced to be shy, but you weren’t that shy, you were pretty extroverted when you had to, you didn’t really mind talking to people, and you were a teacher, so you had to be slightly extrovert to have that job.

But after that night in the kitchen, when Logan’s hands hugged your skin while taking you in the sweetest way, you couldn’t look him in the eye without getting red all over and shaking like a scared bunny before running away. Logan frowned everytime you would run away from him, but that didn’t stop him from looking at you when you gave classes and just roamed around you for the following months.

He was obsessed with you. He could watch you for ages, watch that white, curly, pretty hair of yours, how it fell through your back till your lower back, how your shirt was lifted by your puffy tail and how your ears bounced whenever you got surprised or scared. You were so pretty, so cute, and so perfect to corrupt.

He was a bad man, but for you, he would turn into a gentleman.

But you were avoiding him, but you weren’t alone, of course. You had Ororo, who was slowly turning into your best friend. Really slowly. After being abandoned by the one you thought was your best friend, it was hard to trust again. But Ororo was patient, kind, and really funny, hanging out with her had always left you tearing up and grabbing your belly because you would laugh so hard.

You liked spending time with her, but sometimes the activities she would like doing triggered you in some way.

The therapist said that it was normal that many memories are blocked to protect yourself, but that they could be expressed and manifested in certain ways. It wasn't a lie. The trauma was clearly very heavy, enough for you to forget most of the events. There were days where you didn't want to leave your room, the pain in your chest wouldn't let you move from the bed, and as soon as you tried, you would collapse on the floor next to the bed in desperate tears.

Ororo had insisted on having sleepovers together, but you refused. There was something about it that took you back to a deep, dark place, a room where the only thing you can hear are the echoes of suffering women, yours mixing with those of others. Sometimes, checking to make sure you were okay, Scott and Ororo would look into your room and see you curled up in a ball in the upper corner of the bed, uncomfortable, as if you needed it. A part of you didn't want to get better, it was easier not to know, to live in unconsciousness, but you knew that it was not healthy, that that life was not healthy.

That’s why you started to go clubbing with her, you had already gone two times, this one being the third one. Ororo was sitting next to you, applying a pale pink blush in your pale cheeks before putting some gloss in your lips.

“You are done, girl.” She stood up and passed you your gloss.

“Thank you, love.” You smiled warmly. You grabbed your bag and began walking downstairs with her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, let me call a cab.” Ororo grabbed her while speaking.

A little creek in the kitchen made you raise one of your ears.

“It’s me, bun, don’t worry.”

Fuck.

Out of all the people in the mansion. He had to show.

“Going out?” He crossed his big arms and leaned in the doorframe.

“Yeah! I’m taking her to a club that I know she’ll love.” Ororo smiled.

“ ‘Kay, I’ll drive you.” He said, patting his jeans to find his keys.

“It’s not necess-”

“God! Thank you, cab cost an arm and a leg.” Ororo huffed a laugh as you sighed.

You were glad that the blush in your cheeks was dissimulated by your makeup.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, pretending to be on your phone as Ororo grabbed a coat she had forgotten upstairs. You wanted to kill her, she left you alone with him, gosh, wasn’t it obvious how nervous did you get around him? Maybe not, and she just enjoyed seeing you like that. Yeah, that was your best friend. And worse, he was smoking. Looking so hot and nonchalant.

Logan coughed a bit before looking at you, up and down, and huffed.

“What?” You dared to say, without looking at him.

He shook his head. “Nothin’, bub.”

“No, go ahead.” You left your mobile aside and crossed your arms.

Logan looked down to your chest covered in your black sleeveless corset and smiled.

“You look gorgeous, bunny.” He said, looking at the window and taking a puff from his cigar.

You closed your eyes shut, almost your whole body getting blushed at the compliment. Not pretty, not cute, not good. Gorgeous. He said that word.

“Thanks.” You mumbled shyly, your breath started to get a little worked up. He noticed, of course, and the sight made him smirk.

“I’m back!” Ororo got back in the backseat, and you exhaled like you had been holding your breath for years.

The ride was quiet to you, your mind was peacefully roaming around the lights on the road, even having Logan next to you. That until his hand went to rest on your bare thigh. God, he had to ruin your peace, of course.

His fingers moved to the inner part of your thigh, his palm resting on the front of it. His fingertips massaged your flesh gently, like he knew what he was doing, like he knew how wet you would get with that.

You finally got to the club, some loud music was muffled by the closed doors. You grabbed your jacket and your purse to get out of that freaking car, you could almost scent your own arousal by that moment.

“Wanna join us, Logan?” Ororo suggested.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Guess someone has to take care of you two.” He sighed and got out of the car.

Ororo slapped your shoulder a bit when Logan was away. “You'll thank me later.” and she left too.

You sighed and began to get out of the car too, starting to regret all of that.

“Gonna stick in the bar, you guys have fun.” He said, quickly getting in to go where he said.

“Well, I guess I won't have to thank you for anything.” You said, almost glad that he had left.

You started to get slightly happier and expectant for that night, you could have fun, you wouldn't get too drunk and maybe, if the music wasn't so good for dancing, you could seat and enjoy it. Yeah, a good night.

(...)

Everything you thought that wouldn't happen, happened. You were some long hours into the party, and music was great, surprisingly great. Not some weird music that teens just used as background sound to get drunk and high. Shakira, Britney Spears, Katy Perry, Madonna and Christina Aguilera were sounding all the time, and you couldn't feel happier. That until “Single Ladies” by Beyoncé started, you almost freaked out, and started screaming the lyrics with Ororo.

It was relevant that you were… drunk. Not in the clouds, just drunk enough to feel funny and energized to dance.

“All the single ladies, now put your hands up.” You sang with Ororo while lifting your hands.

Logan, as a totally mature man, he huffed. Single? Huh, if it were up to him, you'd be tied to the bed right now, and not in those shorts that hugged your butt beautifully and in a thin green tank top with thin sleeves. Between both garments he could see the edge of your baby blue underwear and that beautiful, round, adorable bunny tail.

God, you were beautiful, and he was disgusting, he couldn't take his eyes out of your ass and your tail and how you moved your hips smoothly in circles, almost provoking him. On those ‘whoa-oh-oh’ you would move your hips up to the left, up to the right, making your tail bounce.

Was this the karma of provoking you back in the car? Because it was working perfectly, he was hard as a rock.

‘Cause if you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it.’

Oh, he was. If he saw one more man looking at you again, he was putting a fucking ring on your finger if that would make you stay at home with him.

In the blink of an eye, a man appeared behind you, you heard quietness when his disgusting fingers grabbed your buttcheek like he had the right too. The muscular memory to pull against it like you were taught to almost won, it didn't because you saw Ororo’s look in her eyes, a look of displeasure and anger.

Your body tensed at the realization of the situation, and that happening in a matter of seconds, your nails went to sink on his shoulder, only Logan's hand stopping you.

“We are going home.” He said, firmly grabbing your wrist.

You were in the passenger seat now. And you didn't really know how you got there, you supposed Logan had to push you there because you couldn't move, the ghost feeling of that stranger touch, that at the same time felt so familiar.

You were quiet, Ororo and Logan too, but their thoughts were louder than yours, you could almost hear what they were thinking.

Once he pulled over at the mansion, you slowly climbed off the car, putting on your jacket as you walked in. Logan frowns, worried, Ororo had just a concerned look on her eyes as they both follow you in.

You felt almost dizzy, desperate to reach your room, to go and shower, clean yourself up from the touch, from the nonconsensual hands that touched you recently and in the past. The feeling of a dirty touch in your clothes made you want to rip them away. You used to do that since your fur was warm enough for you, but now the feeling seems to have pierced your jeans and burned your clothes.

You couldn’t hear Logan’s voice calling you, you just went upstairs and locked in your bedroom.

Logan sighed and looked down at Ororo when she spoke. “She just needs to rest, to think.” She began. “I’ve never seen you this worried.”

Logan shrugged. “Don’t know what’s she doin’ to me.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Whatever this shit is that i’m fucking feeling, feels like shit.”

“I know what it is.” She gave him a knowing grin. “And you know it too.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, confused, before opening his eyes widely in surprise. “What? I’m not in love with her, Ororo.”

She just chuckled and began heading to her room. “I’ve never said that.”

Fuck. He was one hundred and eighty years old and he fell for the same old trick. He was turning into a silly teen because of a goddamn bunny.

But god, he knew you weren’t just that, you were the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his life, he was the one that got all drunk with you, all bunny-drunk.

He spent the night thinking about you, how were you, how did you feel, could he help you out on something, did you need anything, did you need him? Maybe he was acting like a teen but he couldn’t help it, he was so worried, his heart beated hard in his chest at the thought of you in the state in which he saw you when you came back. When dawn came, he got up like he had nine hours of sleep, when he had just had three, and walked through the mansion, hoping to take a glance at you, but nothing. You weren’t around, Ororo said that you were probably not even awake yet: you could sleep for half a day when one of your episodes hit.

Suddenly, you appeared. You had your curly white hair pinned up, your bunny ears held there too, your face gray of tiredness, wearing some wide black sweat pants and a black hoodie on top. His face lit up when his eyes met your tired figure, while slowly worrying about your state. He didn’t know what to say to you, he couldn’t do the usual ‘good morning’ because it was nearly lunchtime and it was clearly not a good morning.

“Made coffee for you.” He said as taking a sip of his beer, you looked at him with slight surprise. “It’s right there on the machine.”

You smiled gently but tired. “Thanks.”

You sat in front of him with your coffee, putting your feet in the wood base of the chair while quietly drinking as he read the newspaper. Something about the domesticity of the situation made you feel a lot better, his presence being like a bandage to your suffering. You looked up at him and gently smiled.

“You can go to rest more if you want, I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready.” He said, lifting his eyes from the paper.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” You said lower than usual. “Although I’ll love to take a nap on the couch.” You said, standing up and stretching.

Once you were on the couch, comfortably resting your head on the edge of the headboard, it didn't take long for Logan to go and sit besides you. He hovered his hands over your body until you gave him a gentle nod, telling him he could touch you. He moved your body so you were on your side, resting your head in the pillow, and he moved behind you to hug your waist in his hands, pulling you closer until you felt his warmth pressed against your back. He sank his nose in your neck, exhaling in relief when he finally got to have you in his arms, his hands caressed your soft fur up and down to get you relaxed.

"Wanna talk about it a bit?" He asked in such a comfortable, warm voice, you couldn't tell him no.

"I almost leaned in." You said. "It was like muscular memory, i got so... normal about harrassment, so used to it that... I almost leaned in."

Logan heard you, that's what you loved about him. He listened, all the time.

"I feel bad about it." You said, caressing his hands.

"Why is that?" He asked while gently pressing your flesh.

"I like the touch, the contact, the sex, the provocation." You said, your fingers started to play with his. "But not from anyone. If I would had the chance to choose, I would've wanted you to touch me."

Logan smiled in your neck and pressed his lips there, leaving a small trail of kisses. Nothing sexual, just loving kisses.

"I am touching you now." He started talkin in your neck. "You like my touch?"

You nodded. "When it's from you, I like it." He gave you a playful bite in your shoulder which made you giggle.

"Listen, bunny, this world is a shit. You went through hell, and of course that type of touch will make you go through it again. I don't want that pain in you, but I know I can't remove it." He gently flipped you around, accommodating a strand of your white hair out of your face. "I just want to be with you when you need me, to hold you, bun. I know that damn therapist told you that you can have your time alone when you need it, but..." He looked at your ruby eyes, his eyes softened and holding your cheek like you were porcelain. He longed for you, you could see that in his eyes: it wans't something casual to him. "...Whenever you need me, I'll make a fucking whole in the goddamn universe to go find yo-"

"I'm in love with you." You said like it was trapped in your throat. "I'm in love with you, Logan."

#logan x reader #james logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine fanart #x men wolverine #wade winston wilson #poolverine

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