saving myself for Mothman @artemyra-atlas - Tumblr Blog

I love your fics so much, omg -- each one just gets better and better, like fine wine 🙂‍↕️ I'm dying to know your opinion on a Kurt question, because I myself have been unable to make up my mind about it. (Obviously feel free to ignore this if it's too tmi 🤗) How do you think Kurt would react and/or cope with a partner who can't have penetrative sex? I love reading Kurt smut, but I always feel guilty knowing that I'm not capable of all that because of my health. Do you think that would be a deal breaker for Kurt? Or do you think he'd be willing to try other things?

Thank you so much! You're entirely too sweet, anon. I'm happy you like my stuff; I only wish I could write more often...

I actually mentioned non-penetrative sex in one of my previous Kurt asks! I said it then and I'll say it again: he's all for trying new things. Of course, the prospect of not being able to go all the way with his lover is somewhat upsetting, because there is nothing like sliding home into you for him. But I cannot imagine this being a dealbreaker. Sex is about having fun, letting go, being close to each other in this wonderfully vulnerable way, and he doesn't need to enter you for all that.

Besides, Kurt is a selfless lover, always has been. His dick is the last thing that gets near you on most days, so he's more than happy to spend lazy hours with his head buried between your legs. His fingers are big and very clever, too. Not to mention he absolutely is not the type of man to be threatened by some toys; girl, he will eat you out while fucking into a fleshlight, imagining it's your warm, wet insides, and the orgasm will hit him with such force, his tail will tie itself into a knot. So no worries here.

And if you want to know my opinion, penetrative sex is overrated anyway.

#bamf

sagebrush-and-sadness

Was listening to The Bad Touch and the lines And then we'll do it doggy style // So we can both watch X-Files made me think of Kurt because of course they did.

Lying on your side, a thin blanket crumpled between the tangle of your legs, as his chest, soft, steady, is pressed against your heaving back, his breath warming the crown of your head. The lights are off — only a small potbellied TV orates ceremoniously from its place on a cabinet pulled way too close to the bed. A late-night broadcast of Kurt's go-to movie, one of a dozen: featuring a courteous hero with a Hollywood-worthy smile, a villain spewing hackneyed monologues, and a cardboard cutout of a damsel that needs saving. You've watched this one with him before, countless times you have, yet you can't seem to recollect any of the lines nor predict any of the plot twists. You do know them, they just keep scrambling out of your mind.

Because Kurt's hand is on your hip, fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties to slide across the skin there and slipping back out in a manner so idle you would think it unconscious — if you didn't know him better. If half an hour ago, while you were fighting back slumber, those same panties weren't pulled to the side with the sly tail spade. If right now his hips weren't rutting against yours in lazy, shallow thrusts.

It's barely a force, more a presence: strokes so feeble he doesn't truly leave the warmth of your insides, buried to the hilt, as if reluctant to pull out. The sheets whisper of your discreet lechery whenever the soft fur brushes the skin of your buttocks, making you twitch — and clench around the heaviness of him. You feel his heartbeat within your own, and it's a wild pulse against the tenderness of your walls, but Kurt's breathing remains deep, so perfectly controlled you feel almost irritated by how calm, how seemingly unaffected he is. Or rather how easy it is for you to crumble into absolute dust the moment his want takes shape. You watch the rescued damsel's indignation get seized by the hero's audacious mouth and as the fight slowly leaves her body and she throws her arms around his neck, completely enamoured, you feel a chuckle rumble down your spine. It coils in your belly like a coddled snake.

"A nifty little stunt, don't you think?"

Kurt shifts higher on the pillow, and his hips rub against yours, the angle so sweet it makes your knees knock together, and the TV's drone is not loud enough to conceal the broken little mewl leaping out your throat. The cloth of the pillowcase feels sticky underneath your cheek; sweat gathers in the creases of your breasts. You try to twist toward him — to either cuff his ear or ride him till your legs give out, you haven't decided which — but with a demanding press of his hand he keeps you where he wants you. Back flush against his chest, unseeing eyes staring into the flickering screen.

"Kurt," you do not anticipate the whine to creep into your voice, and it would have been mortifying, if only the delicious weight of his cock hadn't displaced any shame left in your body. "Kurt, I need you to—"

"No." His palm cups your belly, right where, beneath skin and muscle and fat, he sits buried deep within you, and his voice seeps into your ear, a promise hidden in its sweetness like a sharp blade wrapped in velvet. "We will finish watching first, and if you behave, I promise I will make you sing throughout the whole commercial break. How's that, hm? Sounds good, mein Täubchen?"

He doesn't wait for your reply. You feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head — so chaste it's almost a mockery — and then he settles back against you, quiet in his triumph, breathing evening out, as if you're not falling apart peace by silent peace right by his side. The scene changes, and you watch, gaze blank, as the hero loses his girl to his own stupidity — and she weeps in that exaggerated, end-of-the-world manner directors seem to think women resort to over a man they barely know. Kurt shifts behind you, a deliberate drag of his cock.

Oh, the credits couldn't come fast enough.

#kurt wagner smut #bamf

debonaire-princess

Deep in The Library 🐰 ⭐️ 💙

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x Male!OC (Love L. Bell)

Word count : 4.8k

Tags : smut, porn with a bit of plot, cunnilingus, tail play, PnV sex, breeding kink, clit play, nipple play, subspace, library sex, top kurt wagner, fluff, boy pussy, rough sex, kurt wagner talks you through it, get your man pregnant kurt!!

Ratings : mature

Summary : Kurt Wagner fucks his sweet boyfriend in a library. Cheers!

AO3 Link

#bamf

sagebrush-and-sadness

KURT WAGNER P!LINKS

↪ Obviously very NSFW, so view at your own discretion

↪ Must be logged into X

↪ WARNINGS: mostly AFAB bottom!reader and top!Kurt; fingering; p in v; pegging; face sitting; restrains; some dom!reader action; sweet and intimate; all videos are amateur

✷ When you admitted to him you'd barely known pleasure on your own, Kurt offered to teach you. He sat you before the mirror — your nakedness laid bare, unfamiliar in its raw honesty — and made you watch as his clever, nimble fingers worked you wet, swollen, and aching in a way you'd never felt before ✷

✷ Living in a mansion full of kids and nosy floor neighbors basically puts a veto on having loud sex, so when you two finally get paired for a mission out of New York, Kurt is determined to make you sing for him. Nobody will mind if you get back a day or two later than planned, right? ✷

✷ It was surprising how easily Kurt agreed to this little experiment of yours. A confident lady-killer, someone with his charm and class — and yet he submitted almost readily. But when he moaned in delight, his tail taut with spasming pleasure, and spread his legs wider almost instinctively, you got the suspicion that there are some things you're yet to learn about your sweetheart ✷

✷ There is only one thing on Earth that could make Kurt miss the morning alarm, and it's the weight of you on his face. Sleep still blurs the edges of his consciousness, yet his mouth is relentless — every movement of his tongue driven not by purpose honed with experience, but by pure instinct, by the single-minded need to have you as close as humanly possible ✷

✷ Such bindings could never contain Nightcrawler, and you both know it. However it is fun to switch things up from time to time — he doesn't mind playing along while you revel in that illusory power. Quite the opossite, actually ✷

✷ Once you buy yourself a bigger bed, Kurt's visitations to your room get twice as frequent. Impudent as a cat that believes it owns the place, he comes and goes as he pleases — plopping onto the mattress, nuzzling into the pillows, and leaving dark hairs all over your fresh white linen. You can hardly get cross with him, though. Not when he fucks you nice and full on that very bed, making sure you have no strength left to chide him ✷

✷ Seeing him again after weeks apart always ends up like this: with you on top of him, every seam of your bodies melting together, and lips sharing all the feelings no words can convey. Oh, darling, how he missed you ✷

part two..? 👀

dividers by @/uzmacchiato

#bamf #kurt wagner smut

sagebrush-and-sadness

Had an idea

Reader is an artist, reader likes drawing Kurt (in a muse sense), Kurt likes it when reader draws him

Reader wants to improve their style, namely their anatomy

Kurt reads around things that can help artists imrpove

Kurt learns about ‘life drawing’ and proposes to reader the idea even offering himself as their model.

Reader agrees, not fully knowing what they’re getting into.

Suddenly Kurt is fully naked in front of reader and posing for them to draw him

(Bonus points if this is the first time reader sees Kurt naked)

Ah, non-sexual nudity, my beloved (or well, at least non-immediately-sexual nudity — it is Kurt Wagner we're talking about after all).

Reader finding a muse in Kurt is something I've been thinking about for a long time now, because his unique anatomy would offer such an interesting new perspective on what bodies can do and be like, you know? I myself wish I was an artist so badly — just to be able to capture the fluidity of his movements, the grace of his curves, the flexibility of his joints and muscles. But alas.

I'm sure it would be something he would offer right away, to be frank. "Oh, you have problems with anatomy? Practice on me, then! I can bend and twist however you'd like, dearest," said with a smile so charming you genuinely did not suspect a thing. You thought it would be something akin to him showing off during his training — when he makes unnecessary leaps and somersaults and doubles the degree of eccentricity in his every move, knowing you're looking at him and shaking your head with fond exasperation. Flaunting the strength of his lithe body is Kurt's forte, so what else could he mean? He would simply take some seemingly impossible pose and read a book, perfectly content with himself, while letting you paint, right? Wrong.

When he starts to shed his tight suit, you feel your fingers weaken. When it turns out he's wearing nothing beneath, the pencils and the sketchbook escape your grasp and fall to the floor. His tail twitches at the clatter, and he tilts his head to the side with feigned concern: "You look jittery, Liebe. Are you sure you're feeling alright? We can reschedule." The smug devil — he's been fantasizing about this moment, and you're acting just like he pictured you would. So you steel your resolve, smooth out your breathing, and try not to let your eyes wander as you pick up the scattered art supplies.

Admittedly, your eyes do wander sooner than you'd like them to — for the pose that Kurt settles on leaves very little to your racing imagination, and even the tail spade lying humbly between his legs barely helps cover anything. It's not even as complicated as you expected, his pose, but it is very… unrestricted, blunt, and stripped of modesty as completely as of any garment. In this sunlit room you chose for your rendezvous, he is the one utterly naked — yet it is you who feel so embarrassed you wish your mutant power was teleportation. Because you want to puff away in a cloud of smoke just as much as you want to dare and stay tête-à-tête with your personal Serpent.

Turning tail and running to the door sounds even more mortifying, though, so you try to focus your mind on moving your hand across the paper. Line after line. The curvature of his waist, the slopes of his shoulders, the prominent bones of his hands and feet. And soon it gets a little easier to ignore the ambiguity of your scoundrel of a boyfriend's state when you regard his body as nothing else but an interweaving of muscles and tendons. That is, until he shifts. Wriggles on the soft couch he's sprawled on to get himself more comfortable. And moves his tail in the process, lifting the spade, the last bastion of decency, from between his thighs. A momentary change colliding with a quick glance — but it's enough for all the restraint you've been scraping into a somewhat decent pile for the last half an hour to shatter like thin ice under a dropped stone.

"Oh, es tut mir leid," Kurt sing-songs without even trying to sound caught off-guard by his own awkwardness. "Continue, please. I'm quite impatient to see the final result."

There is an unmistakable purr in his voice — a rumbling satisfaction of a cat that knows it can play with its prey, for it can no longer escape its clutch. And perhaps you indeed cannot run away now. But what you can do — what the sly devil before you doesn't even anticipate, not really — is to strike back, retaliate. Put your sketchbook aside, the outlines of an elegant figure almost swaying on the page, and stand up from your chair. Approach him as he raises himself on his elbows to meet you halfway. And paint a masterpiece with the colors born in the seams where his skin meets yours.

After all, it is always better to study new exciting things hands-on, so to speak.

#kurt wagner x reader

sagebrush-and-sadness

i neeeed to know your thoughts on kurt eating the reader out. maybe is he slow and gentle? or more like a starved man?

I am a strong believer that Kurt likes to take his time during intimacy, and that does translate to his pace. Most of the time he's going slow — still passionate and full of bite, of thirst, but he's not rushing to gobble you down. You're exactly where he wants you to be, like an exquisite dessert laid out on a silver plate; you're not going anywhere, so he plans to enjoy you thoroughly. He's a tease who delights in getting as much reaction out of you as possible, so be prepared for a whole leisurely make-out session between your thighs, the one that honestly almost makes you feel like a third wheel.

That is not to say that Kurt is always slow and gentle, though. He can be quite a versatile lover when he wants to be or when the circumstances leave little room for anything else. He is only a man, after all, and he too hungers. A mission that took too long; a boring event full of forced smiles and loud music; a spark of fear, a whiff of blood — so many things to throw his usual gentlemanly resolve off balance. When he misses you for days without being able to even hear your voice; when he sees you in a new garment that tickles his fancy without being able to have you right there and then; when he squeezes your weakened hand without being able to take away your pain — how can he remain languid and collected? All he wants now is to make sure you're actually here, with him, that you're his; that he's allowed to enjoy you, make love to you, inhale your scent, taste your skin.

And he will do so like a man starved, yes. And after he's done, his own breathing just as heavy and rapid as yours, Kurt will lay his head on your thigh. Sweaty forehead, messy curls, setting suns of eyes. And he will look at you like you are a wonder, a miracle that helped fill the deep crevice in his core, a remedy that eased his fever, and as he helps you clean up, he will get back to his usual confident, leisurely lover amplua — the rare moment of vulnerability a treasured secret just between the two of you.

#bamf

dangerouslydelish

No Questions Asked

A/N: Okay, you guys. I'm screaming. Read more author's note at the end, thanks!

Pairing: Kurt Wagner X fem!reader / Nightcrawler X fem!reader

Summery: A plan is put into motion for the future. Kurt is worried about you. When you two talk, things get heavy...then hot.

TW: Anxiety, paranoia, emotional support, making out, consent, straight up cunnilingus, fingering and praying before pussy.

Taglist: @dezzydynamite, @sagebrush-and-sadness, @mary-moongood, @missryunosukechiba, @nagi3seastorm, @eggygirl501, @jeshomie

Word count: 2.1K

Part 9, Part 11 (coming soon)

Ch. 10: Midnight Talks and Wandering Hands

Night had finally fallen over the estate, though the storm outside showed no signs of letting up. The rain was heavy, slamming against the glass panes of Kurt’s bedroom windows almost violently, drowning out the usual quiet sounds of the mansion.

You stood by the glass, the heavy velvet curtain pulled back just a fraction. You couldn't help yourself. Your fingers tightly gripped the fabric as your eyes desperately scanned what little area of the grounds you could see. Every time lightning fractured the dark sky, illuminating the sprawling gardens in a harsh, ghostly white, your chest tightened. Your breath hitched, your mind terrifying you with the thought that you would see a figure out there in the storm. Standing. Watching. Waiting.

"Liebling?"

Kurt’s voice broke through the silence, startling you violently out of your thoughts.

Your hands flew to your mouth as you let out a small, breathless yelp. You turned around, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Kurt," you huffed, forcing an embarrassed, shaky laugh as you tried to calm your racing pulse. "You scared me."

Kurt walked over to you, his expression softening with deep, aching empathy. He reached out, his three-fingered hands warm and reassuring as he gently guided you away from the window, dropping the curtain back into place to block out the storm.

"Enough of that, Schatz," he murmured gently, a tender, comforting smile tugging at his lips. "You are safe here. The grid is active, and Logan is downstairs. No one is outside."

He guided you across the room to the edge of his bed, where a small plastic bag was resting. With a soft, lingering kiss to your temple that made your eyes flutter shut, he picked up the bag and handed it to you.

"Storm offered you some clothes for tonight," Kurt said, his voice dropping to a soothing, velvety register. He gestured toward a doorway across the room. "My bathroom is right there. Take all the time you need."

Your face instantly burned, a fierce, sudden blush flaring across your cheeks as you looked at the door left slightly ajar, revealing a clean, private bathroom inside. The reality of the situation—sleeping in Kurt’s room, wearing borrowed pajamas, the sheer intimacy of it all—suddenly crashed over you, competing with the residual fear of the stalker.

You nodded quickly, unable to find your words through the sudden lump in your throat. Clutched tightly to your chest, you hurried across the room and slipped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your heart pounded wildly as you leaned your back against the door, the heat in your cheeks refusing to fade. You took a moment to breathe in the scent of Kurt's soap and the quiet safety of the room before opening the bag. Inside was an oversized, incredibly soft cotton shirt from Storm—simple, comforting, and warm. Though you noticed no pants were provided. When you assessed yourself in the mirror, it hung to your mid-thighs so you doubted you needed them.

You quickly changed out of your rain-chilled clothes. When you finally looked in the mirror, you saw yourself: a doctor who had spent the last twenty-four hours surviving a psychological nightmare, now drowned in oversized clothes, looking small but safe.

You unlocked the door and stepped back out into Kurt's bedroom.

The room was bathed in a warm, amber glow. Kurt had turned off the harsh overhead lights, leaving only a small, dim lamp on his bedside table. He had changed into a pair of simple black sweatpants, his dark blue fur catching the soft light. He was sitting cross-legged on the mattress, his tail swishing in slow, hypnotic arcs behind him.

When he looked up and saw you, his yellow eyes softened completely, shining with an adoration that made your stomach do a wonderful, dizzying flip.

"Come here," he whispered, patting the space on the mattress right beside him.

You walked across the room, the oversized shirt brushing against your thighs, and climbed onto the bed. The moment you sat down, the mattress dipping under your weight, the fierce tension that had held your spine straight all day finally dissolved.

Kurt didn't hesitate. He shifted closer, opening his arms, and you slid right into his embrace. You curled your legs against his side, burying your face into the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you securely, his hand resting on the back of your head, while his thick, velvet tail coiled gently around your ankle, anchoring you to him in the dark.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. There was only the rhythmic, heavy thud of the rain against the glass and the steady, comforting beat of Kurt’s heart beneath your cheek.

"I am so sorry, Schatz," Kurt whispered into your hair, his voice a low, aching rumble. "I promised you that the mansion would be a sanctuary. I wanted your grand opening to be perfect. Instead, you are terrified in your own home."

You tightened your grip on his shoulders, shaking your head against his skin. "It’s not your fault, Kurt. It's just..." You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat tight and painful. "When I saw that package... when I read those words... it didn't just scare me because of the stalker. It brought everything back."

Kurt went completely still, his hand gently stroking your hair, silently urging you to continue.

"I was small again," you whispered, the confession tearing out of you, raw and honest. "I was that little girl hiding under her bed. I could smell the cheap whiskey soaking into the rotted wooden floorboards. I could hear the drunken screaming, the glass smashing against the walls... that helpless, suffocating feeling that no matter where I hid, the monster was going to find me." A hot tear finally spilled over your eyelashes, dampening his shirt. "I thought I outran those awful memories. But tonight, they came right back."

Kurt’s grip tightened, pulling you so close there was no space left between you. He pressed a fervent, lingering kiss to the top of your head, his own breathing hitched with an intense, protective sorrow.

"You did outrun them," Kurt assured fiercely, his voice thick with emotion. "You survived it all. You became a savior to people who have no one else. But you do not have to be that lonely little girl under the bed anymore. I know what it is like to be hunted, to look in the mirror and think you are the monster everyone says you are. When I was in the circus, they locked me in a cage. They threw stones. They made me feel like I belonged in the dark."

He gently pulled back just enough to look down at you, his large, three-fingered hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. His thumb tenderly wiped away the stray tear. His yellow eyes glowed in the amber light, burning with a devotion so pure it took your breath away.

"But you are not in the dark anymore, and neither am I," Kurt murmured, his gaze locking onto yours. "If the monsters come to smash the glass, they have to go through me first. I will be your shield, meine Liebe. I will keep the night away from you."

You looked up at him—at his beautiful, blue-furred face, his pointed ears, his sharp fangs, and the gentle, fierce soul that lived behind his eyes. The memory of him earlier that afternoon, making little Zoe laugh with his circus tricks, flashed through your mind. You thought of how he had spent the entire day acting like a shield just to keep you safe, not out of obligation, but out of pure, unadulterated devotion.

The feeling that had hit you like a lightning strike in the clinic returned, filling your chest until it felt like it would burst. The room was safe. The rain was heavy. And you couldn't keep the truth locked behind your teeth for another second.

"Kurt," you breathed, your voice trembling, but entirely sure.

"Yes, Schatz?"

"I love you."

The words hung in the warm, amber space between you.

Kurt froze. His yellow eyes widened, his breath catching sharply in his throat. For a fraction of a second, he looked completely stunned, as if he couldn't fully process that someone like you could say those words to someone like him. Then, his face softened into the most breathtaking, radiant smile you had ever seen. A soft, breathless laugh escaped his lips, and his tail flicked with a sudden, joyous energy behind him.

"Du... you love me?" he whispered, his voice cracking with a beautiful, raw vulnerability.

"I do," you sighed, a genuine smile finally breaking through your fear, your cheeks warming with a happy blush. "I realized it today when you were helping Zoe. You make everyone feel safe, Kurt. You make me feel safe. I love everything about you."

Kurt didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, desperate, and fiercely tender kiss. It was completely different from the playful, passionate kisses you had shared before. This was a promise. His hands cradled your face, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the entire universe, pouring every ounce of his gratitude, his relief, and his own unspoken adoration into the kiss.

His tongue moved with yours, a slippery dance that made your body heat and tingle in all the right places.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of your breaths mingling in the quiet room.

"Ich liebe dich auch," Kurt whispered against your lips, his voice thick with tears of happiness. "I love you so completely. And I swear to you, no matter who is in the shadows... they will never take this away from us."

You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms securely around his neck as he pulled you back down against his chest. The storm outside was still raging, and the mystery of the blood-red rose was still waiting for you tomorrow. But right here, tangled in Storm's oversized shirt and held in the arms of the man who loved you, the little girl under the bed was finally gone. You were safe.

Kurt captured your lips once again, one hand resting at the base of your neck while the other rested at your lower back before completely pulling you onto his lap with ease. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, asking without words. You opened your mouth and pulled him closer, your body growing hot as he twirled his tongue with yours. You moved one hand to his jaw while your other hand slid down his chest, teasing his fur as you reached the darker tufts of fur on his stomach.

Kurt pulled back with a gasp. “Nein, Leibling. You do not have to force yourself, today has been emotionally taxing.”

You shook your head, breathless and burning. “I want to,” you sighed as you grabbed his hand that was resting on your back to hold it to your lips. “I need it. Kurt, I have been burning for you for some time now.” His yellow eyes widened at your blushing declaration, moving your hips to press against him, trying to ease the pulsing need in your cunt. “I’ll stop i-if you don’t want to.” You opened your mouth, swirling your tongue around one of his fingers

Suddenly, you were on your back with Kurt above you, your legs resting on either side of his hips. He was upright, both hands pressing into your plush thighs and a groan escaped him. “Ich habe lange genug gewartet, um dich auf meiner Zunge zu schmecken.” Before you could ask what he said, Kurt began to pull your shirt up until it bunched to your neck. “Hold it with your teeth,” he ordered, gently pushing the hem of your shirt behind your teeth. Your body burned hotter and your cunt quivered wet at his dominant tone.

Your tits were exposed to the cool air, pebbling your nipples taut as he reached for one to rub a firm nipple in tingling circles. Your moan was muffled by the shirt lodged in your mouth and somehow that made you wetter.

His hands began to roam, tracing invisible patterns along your breasts, abdomen and navel, goosebumps gracing your skin even though it felt as if you were burning. After a few moments of his fingers leaving a masterpiece over your skin, his hands rested firmly on your hips, giving you a squeeze. Your eyes met his, an intense glowing yellow. His chest heaved as he panted. “I hope you don’t mind, Leibe, that I say grace.”

Kurt lifted one of your legs slowly, kissing your calf muscle down to the back of your knee. “Alle guten Gaben,” he licked a long trail from your knee to your mid-thigh, your desperate moan filled the room, “alles, was wir haben,” he moved his body further down the bed as he wrapped his tail around your other thigh, “kommt, o Gott, von Dir,” he spread your legs further apart before taking your panties, sliding them off you, “dafür danken wir.” Once your panties were off you, he gave you a wicked grin, staring into your eyes as he delicately placed your panties down his pants, right where his hardened cock lay. As your chest heaved, he roughly used his hands and tail to spread your legs apart, your cunt wet and waiting. “Amen.”

You didn’t get a chance to take a breath before his mouth was on your cunt, twirling his tongue around your clit, changing from soft to hard pressure in random intervals, the only sound in the room was the lewd slurping of Kurt’s tongue and your muffled moans being absorbed by the bunched shirt in your mouth. You bucked your hips at every press on your clit and on every jolt through your body.

Your hands grabbed at the comforter underneath you as electricity seemed to zip up your spine, a delightful pressure building in your stomach as you tried moving your hips away.

When you moved your hips further than Kurt wanted them to, he pulled you back fiercely, a low hiss and growl escaping him as the onslaught on your cunt and clit continued. “Mmmf!” A muffled cry escaped you as you felt a nimble digit circling your entrance. You didn’t know how much more you could take, you were already so close.

Kurt gently rubbed around your hole, gathering enough slick to soak two of his fingers just as the build up finally snapped. You clenched your teeth and your eyes rolled back as your clit pulsed through your orgasm. You didn’t have time to come down from your high as Kurt thrust two fingers inside you, curling them in a come hither motion again and again until they hit that gummy spot inside and you couldn’t hold it anymore.

Your hips were moving involuntarily as the build up began to swirl again. You were practically screaming as his tongue worked your clit and his fingers hit your sensitive spot.

You saw light as you came again—hard—coating Kurt’s face and fingers in your delicious juices which left you utterly breathless.

For a moment all that could be heard in the amber lit room was your gasps. You felt movement on the bed but you couldn’t muster the energy to open your eyes. Not yet. You could feel your body twitching as your senses were finally calming down, a pleasurable ache settling in your cunt.

You opened your eyes eventually when you felt Kurt crawling back on the bed, a fluffy towel in hand. He began to gently wipe you down, taking away the remnants of your sticky state. After a while, once he was satisfied, he threw the towel unceremoniously on the floor before tucking you both under the covers and bringing you close against his chest. He rested your head underneath one of his arms and the pillow before pulling the cover to your chin.

You wanted to protest. Ask him about his needs but the exhaustion was taking you. Your limbs became heavy as he placed a loving kiss to your forehead. He mumbled something in German before you finally allowed sleep to take you, snuggling closer into his chest, relishing the feeling of his hands rubbing circles on your back and his tail still wrapped firmly, protectively, around your thigh.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hyperventilated so much during the first draft of this omg

My two best friends were blessed with a live reading as I edited and edited! Thank you to my two girls for being the best beta readers ever xx I hope ya'll like it, please let me know what you think!

redbull-gave-me-iridescent-wings

Kurt Wagner x Reader - Domestic Alphabet

About You/Reader -> [mutant or not - left up to you, but Kurt falling inlove with you clearly shows that you must be someone awesome <3]

Tags? CW? ⤵︎ established Relationship - you two've been together for years, insight into your day-to-day lives!!

CW -> mention of Sex, few prompts have suggestive Answers, but doesn't cross anything that needs to be warned + the answers are kept SFW overall.

♡

Enjoy and have a cute + fun time reading!!

(A)nniversaryˎˊ˗

How do they celebrate anniversaries with their partner?

At the very start of the Relationship - to let alone even celebrate it had completely slipped your guyses minds.

#kurt wagner x reader

sagebrush-and-sadness

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋

𝖪𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝖶𝖺𝗀𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

summary. being a hero to the whole world has never been easy, but being one to your own family is even less so.

word count. ~3k

content warnings. implied past pregnancy and birth

author's notes. I love em dashes

ao3 link

You wake with the underlying feeling that something is not right. It’s a sudden shift, a stumble of your lulled consciousness, and it only takes a second and maybe a half — one moment you’re still asleep and the next you aren’t. The gaudy nothingness of your dream fades without a trace like a morning mist, and when, with a single blink, you gain awareness, everything in your core feels caught in a web of strange unease. Something’s changed.

#kurt wagner x reader

sagebrush-and-sadness

I need to make out with Kurt Wagner crazy style. Tongues out, gulping down saliva like mad dogs, breaths hot against each other's faces, and moans so loud they quiver, caught between our mouths, almost a palpable thing begging to be bitten. I need his teeth clanking against mine, catching on my lower lip; need the fur on his neck ruffled, hairs standing on end as if electrified by the sheer passion buzzing under his skin; need his hands under my shirt, nails scraping along the underside of my breasts, while my knee presses into his heavy, leaking cock — and I need it now.

#kurt wagner x reader

sex-isnt-real

there is a criminal lack of submissive nightcrawler on this site and in general (at least outside of mlm ships including him) so my down bad ass has to make my own goddamn food

this does not have proper fic structure but i kind of just needed to get this out of my system so anyways,

gn!reader x sub nightcrawler

contains: overstimulation, mild dacryphilia, reader and kurt are implied to be switches, no mention of reader’s genitals, might be a little ooc sorry 😓

(some of this was also inspired by a nightcrawler nsfw audio i stumbled on…)

#bamf

marvelimaginesyesplease

Kurt (Wagner) would have a mommy kink with a fem reader

'Nuff said... Xoxo... Mwa.

YES HE WOULD!!!

Kurt Wagner absolutely calls you mommy. He’s Roman Catholic, so naturally, he’s a switch. I think his ultimate goal is to have mind blowing sex, no matter the situation. Dom? Sub? Switch? Kurt’s there. And you know damn well that man is using his tail to please you and himself.

#kurt wagner smut #bamf

sagebrush-and-sadness

I'm not sure if such a thing as pussywarming exists, but if it doesn't, then Kurt Wagner would be the one to invent it.

And it would be a pure, honest-to-god accident. On normal days hardly anyone can rival Kurt's vigor or match his zeal when it comes to sex: you barely have to do or say anything to get him going, and the times your tricks didn't work on him you can count on one hand. He's easily excited, and such excitement doesn't dull until the very end when he holds you close, soft chest pressed against your own bare breasts, warm breaths intertwining, and bedsheets in a state of shameless ruin. He wants you, plain and simple, and he does so at all times. Even when he probably shouldn't.

The mansion is quiet without him, but every so often it feels even quieter when he's around — home at last after a mission that stretched on too long, completely worn-out. The ever-merry Nightcrawler, a bouncy ball of pure condensed energy, now sluggish and placid. Tail motionless with weariness and eyes narrowed into drowsy crescents. A bright spotlight that's started to flicker. And yet, against all common sense, he still wants you — and what he wants, he gets.

When he's in between your legs again, it's not with the cat-like grace and alluring cheekiness you've grown used to. No, his movements are stripped of any poise. He flops down onto your shared bed, wood creaking shrilly, and his face is darker than ever, shadows glum but not quite so much as to hide the sheer exhaustion sharpening his features. Your hand rests unsure atop his curls: you have half the heart to push him away and onto the pillows instead, but his grip on your thighs is so secure that your flesh wells up through the gaps between his fingers, skin dipping under nails that are starting to grow too long.

"Mein Herz, meine Seele, you need rest." You call for him, but it's left to float up under the ceiling, for his tongue is already sliding along the inside border of your panties, one fang catching on the fabric, and there is little you can do when Kurt looks up at you with such plea simmering in liquid gold.

"Then let me rest here." His breath is warm, silky against the crease of your thigh. "Here, where I'm wanted so."

You hesitate — a twitch of fingers — yet the lower part of your body reacts faster, Pavlovian in its readiness. The familiar weight of his face pressing right into your heat, the obscene drag of his inhale, air hiccuping in his throat as it fills with the scent of you: all the things that once made you squirm in embarrassment now ring like a silent bell. Your thighs fall open. Barely ten seconds later you're left bare and soft for him.

The hidden wet rosiness of Kurt's mouth envelops you, hot and gentle like a strike that is followed by a soothing caress. It makes you gasp, it makes him moan, as if the taste of you were the balm for his ache. Nose pressed into the slope of your pubis, he licks in wide, long strokes, but it's lazy, almost meditative, devoid of any need to feel you release around his tongue. As if simply being here is enough. As if his soul found the answer it's been tormenting itself over. His tail lays unmoving, and only unhurried puffs of air melt into the quietness.

You lie there watching the daylight slip off your ceiling, dragged away by the setting sun, and soon the slothful slides of tongue barely make you tremble any longer — you relax so completely, sprawled across downy pillows, you don't even notice at once when they stop completely. Kurt swallows around you, saliva squelching in his throat, and then he only breathes. When you get up on your elbows to glance down at him, the ember glow of his gaze seeps out from under his eyelashes like a thin sliver of light from under a lowered curtain. His face is softened, shadows thinned, lifted under the unruly curls, and you can't help but run your fingers between the arches of his eyebrows, where a worried crease is etched too deep for his age.

At your touch Kurt stirs. Inhales in a hitch. One eye opens just barely and then closes again. He's drowsing, you realize, and something about such a thought licks hotly in your belly. It's uncomfortable, it must be with how his neck is craned, yet as you shake him, shifting your hips, his unrelenting grip on your thighs tightens even more. No, you read in the way a snarl wrinkles his nose — soundless at first, but when you try again with a quiet "Come on, love, let's get you to bed" a rumble floods his mouth and cuts right through your core in a vibration that makes your knees pull together. Oh, alright. The message reads clearly.

You let go of him, hand falling helplessly, body relaxing yet again, and with a quiet resignation you watch Kurt's face smooth out, nose resting cosily in the tangle of hair between your legs, eyelashes unfluttering, and breathing deep, serene. He stays like that for hours, and somehow not even for a second does his mouth slide down your cunt, attached to it as if sewn together, and you let him rest — in his own way.

When he comes to your bedroom a week later, injured in a fight, step heavy with exhaustion, you already have an extra pillow for your hips and a thin blanket for your poor, weary lover. He doesn't ask, and you don't deny him. You simply open your legs, and he falls into you — a man who has finally come home.

dividers by @/uzmacchiato

#bamf

justevelynnnn

look at me.

Summary: Reader lets her exhibition kink shine for once

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x fem!reader

Warnings: {MDNI 🔞} M*sterb*tion, Climax, Nudity, exhibitionism

A/N: Wrote this with “my moon my man” on repeat & this is my dream

Your heart beats hard in your chest as you made eye contact with him. The bed you seductively laid naked on was ever so soft, cool and comforting on your skin.

It wasn’t frequent, surprisingly, that you and Kurt played out fantasies in the bedroom. Which made this ever so more nervous. Usually it was his, but tonight it’s yours and it was simple. It took weeks, but you finally asked to play it out.

#bamf

sagebrush-and-sadness

I'll love having my blue german man kissing me so passionately as his tail slaps my pussy until I squirt or pass out🥺🥺

Oh, I can definitely see pussy slaps sitting pretty high in Herr Wagner's list of kinks.

He's nothing if not a good tease. The kind that makes you rub your thighs together with hushed words alone. The kind that withdraws his mouth right before your lips lock and instead bites at your neck or licks your earlobe just to keep you on your toes. The kind that will have you writhing against the sheets before he's even unbuckled his pants. He's wicked like that, and he will never take without savoring first. Sure, one can always gobble down a grand feast without indulging in some wine, but where's the pleasure in that? And sure, Kurt can always make love to you without bringing you to a climax or two beforehand, but where's the fun in that?

And you know what's even more fun to him? Making you come after he's made a mess of your body, for an encore. It's like washing down the last bite with some Chardonnay, and he's already smacking his lips in anticipation. You are leaking come and slick, cunt swollen with blood, pulsing around the memory of his cock, glistening breasts heaving, and eyes full of stars — he's ought to take care of you, drape your vulnerability in tenderness like any good gentleman would, yet right now he is everything but. He beholds the tremble of your flesh, and all he sees is an opportunity.

Oh, he will start soft and comforting, lulling your alertness with one chaste kiss at a time. Your ankles, the underside of your knees. Thighs, hips, waist. The curve of your belly and the valley of your breasts. Up the river of life under the skin of your neck and by the sighs that escape your throat Kurt knows you've melted to the desired state for him. Perfect. Your lips move so languidly against his, mouth closing around the sweet nothings he's feeding you, that he almost feels bad — almost.

When he kisses deeper, tongue tracing the ridge of your teeth, you let him have his fill without protesting. You love, love when he drinks your breath like water, devouring you gulp after greedy gulp as if it were his last meal before the inevitable, so you press into the velvet of his body until the very air is reduced to nothingness between you. But then he bites. Not hard enough to draw blood — never — but the suddenness of it makes you let out a gasp that immediately gets licked away and swallowed. The promise of lazy basking in the joined afterglow cracks like an eggshell, and then Kurt's tail is sneaking up your calf, a slight shiver following its path, so faint you barely notice it, drowning in the passion of his wet kisses. When it lies flat against your raw cunt, the spade long and wide enough to cover the wholeness of it, you push him away just enough to look into those cunning, pleased eyes of his. Squinting at you lovingly right before he lands a slap.

It's a gentle thing at first, merely a trial piece for you to taste. It doesn't feel good, nor does it feel bad, that's how little heat there is in the impact, yet what it does is make you jump just slightly, eyebrows twitching and toes curling. The tail freezes like a snake before it lunges, and for a moment Kurt is searching your face. Giving you enough time to say the word, to shake your head, to turn away from him, anything. You do neither. You're simply looking at him with those eyes so full of faith, as if you'd let him break you apart just to mend you back together, and that is a thought he will mull over later. For now he asks, just to be sure, "Noch ein mal?" and when you nod, he dives back into your embrace, mouth first.

The French call an orgasm a little death — and that's exactly what Kurt grants you as he swallows your wails and begs, each slap against your overwhelmed, oversensitive cunt a step on the path to ecstatic oblivion. You writhe on the sheets and claw at his shoulders, kicking up and twisting your hips in frenzied attempts to escape the pleasure of this pain the likes of which you've never felt before, but they are dumb, futile. Thrashing in snares only means tightening them more, and Kurt's sharp caresses are as relentless as they are methodical. He doesn't strike thoughtlessly for the sake of it, no — he allows the shock to settle, lets your flesh soak it in before adding another, and another, and another. Sometimes whipping at the soft meat of your thighs, more frequently landing his hits directly at your throbbing, defenseless clit. In the rare timeouts he stops completely, a perfectly gauged length of time just for one single "no", but not enough for you to catch your breath, before he's back at tormenting your poor body and mind.

"Yes, love, just like that. Not much point in fighting it, ja? Zeig mir, Liebe — zeig mir, wie schön du für mich kommen kannst."

You don't last long, even though it feels like the sun has made two revolutions around the earth — but no, you will realize soon, it was Kurt's big, golden eyes hiding behind the veil of darkness in your own as the pain-pleasure consumed you entirely and then shining anew as you came back to your shaken shell. You're unsure what's just happened, but next to you Kurt lets out a sigh of pure relief as his hand finds your cheek to stroke gently.

"Are you alright?" said in a voice so tender that one might think it could never hold any of that perverse wickedness from a minute ago. You can only nod like a senseless bobblehead. Your thighs are shaking, but you barely register that.

Kurt helps you sit up — and your gaze stumbles over a wide, dark splash stretching across the sheets, right from beneath your ass. "It got intense for a second," he coughs at the look you give him and clasps his mouth shut. His tail curls around his leg, and you never even notice the way the spade of it shines wetly in the light.

Jeez, I got carried away a little here.

#bamf

justevelynnnn

The Devils Tango

Husband!Kurt Wagner x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Kurt are enjoying the last days of your honeymoon, dancing and fucking in a nightclub.

Warnings: Mentions of drinking and doing weed, reader and Kurt are under the influence, the reader is crossfaded, bathroom sex, setting is in a party/club scene

A/N: this is literally inspired by that gif in the middle💀 anyways enjoy some more kurt x reader food during this drought

#bamf

justevelynnnn

Blue hour.

Summary: Imagine being eaten out by the Kurt Wagner…🤤

Pairing: Nightcrawler x Fem!reader

Warnings: Literally just cunniligus. {MDNI 🔞}

A/N: Something shorter. I’ve been craving an eater in my life for a hot minute now. Specifically, from this fuzzy blue elf.

Your room was a soft, gentle blue as it was officially the crack of dawn. Soft sheets almost swallow your skin as you lay completely bare on top of them. Moans escape your throat as a half awake Kurt lay between your legs pleasuring you in anyway he possibly could. Half lidded, illuminated golden eyes peak at you as his nose tickled the bush that rested on your pelvis.

His tongue, warm and excited like it had a mind of its own, slowly lapped at your folds. He started at the bottom and slowly worked his way up until he gets to your clit, which he then suckles on it gently before repeating. Wet kisses and tickles from the warm flesh neared you closer and closer to finishing. It was lazy and beautiful and loving. So tender, intimate. The world was just you two, you’d be convinced.

Strong, furry arms helped hold you down as you started to twitch uncontrollably. His hands have a more gentle grip on each of hips as you moved around on the bed.

“Kurt…f-fuck..!”, you whisper into the dim room. Your eyes were now clenched shut as you felt him softly hum on your clit. You could feel him smile down there and you moaned loader and reached one hand to grip his curly hair.

Focused, he licked and kisses faster. The more you writhe, the more he focuses on that area of sensitivity. All your mind could think of was how pretty this blue light made your room and the hungry mutant between your legs.

You flinch out of sensitivity, almost wanting to get away, but you know this feeling too well. You were almost there. God, you were so close. Kurt holds you still know this also and continues sensually pleasing you.

Warmth emits from the area and that familiar light feeling fills your lower stomach. You start to feel like you’re floating as all your nerves are lit up, something you can describe as purely euphoric. Losing concern for anything else around you and throatily whining your lovers name, you finish. Bliss washes over your entire being and fills your mind. He doesn’t let up as you begin to clench and spasm. Your back arches uncontrollably for a few seconds before you finally relax and land back on earth.

He smiles at you, lower half of his face damp. His lips shine as the early sun light hits them. A tongue slips out to lick them as he shifts up.

Resting your hands on your stomach, you sigh gravely.

#bamf

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