Featuring: Logan Howlett (800+ wc), Kurt Wagner (900+ wc), Scott Summers (1.6k+, can you tell he's my favorite? I wasn't making a separate post just for him), and Wade Wilson (900+ wc)
Content Warning: 18+ NSFW, afab!reader, Logan smells reader, bad German translations for Kurt, switch!Scott (I know ball), switch!reader, not-so-dry humping, teasing, mating press, desperate need for touching, biting, (kinda) forced orgasm with Wade, referring to genitals like they're a person (Logan/Wade), Wade refers to himself as Daddy once, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex (Kurt/Scott), cream pie (Kurt/Scott), oral (f receiving), a lot of swearing, praise and groping.
Note: Following up on a request of (literally quoting) anything with Scott and Kurt with a Fem Reader. Happy Pride Month to my fellow queer people and our supporters. I love you and remember to be yourself ♥️🧡💛💚💙💜
Pt 1 Ft. Remy LeBeau + Anna Marie LeBeau
Logan
Morning breaks through the window next to your shared bed. The sounds of birds outside in the early sunlight draws your attention first as the grogginess settles in. Your eyes blink open, squinted up at the ceiling as you take in a deep breath as they fight the blinding light of early morning sunshine.
Your eyes shift to the right, the space next to you vacant of its usual inhabitant. No hairy lump of a man attached to your side to grumble about you grabbing him while you're sleeping. Acting like he hates it when you want to hold him first thing in the morning but never bothers putting up a fight and clings to you like some kind of attention starved puppy.
Your legs fidget, trying to wake up like the rest of your body. Just to be met with a growl coming from under the blanket. Mind slowly unfogging, you notice the boulder shape under the covers. Your hand moves to pull them back, Logan's face appearing with himself wrapped around your legs. Face shoved up against your mound through your sleep shorts, beard burning against your thighs while he nuzzles against your clothes slit. Taking in a deep breath, his eyes locked on the growing wet spot on the thin cotton.
"Mornin' darlin'," he rasps through a scratchy morning voice. Head not lifting, not even budging as you blink away what you think is a dream.
"Logan, what the hell are you doing?" He shifts to his elbows, pushing the blanket off his head when you notice his eyes are blown wide, pupils nearly swallowing the blue of his eye whole.
"Tryna behave while you're sleepin'... Didn't wanna wake ya, but I could smell it on ya." He pushes back in, nosing at your clit through the thin cotton keeping him away from you. You preen against him with a whine, seem pressing into your sensitive bundle along with his prodding nose. Pressing up onto your elbows, he ruts his face into you. Growling again before looking up at you.
"You must have been sleepin' real good. Dreamin' about me, and what I could do to ya if you’re good for me." The familiar sound of Adamantium claws popping makes your thighs tense around his head.
"You always wanna test my patience, tap dance on my last damn nerve. But I can see it on ya too. She's just slick and waitin’ for me to enjoy her." Shiny silver slides against your skin with a gentle press under your shorts and up against the fabric. His pupils dilate like a predator spotting it's next meal.
"You don't mind me testin' that theory, do ya now? I'll make it worth your while and then some." He looks at you expectantly. Stupid little smug grin on his face. It's, obnoxiously, too inviting for you to say anything but a resounding yes.
You give a single nod before the shorts are shredded, a gasp ripping from your throat as he pounces on you like an animal. Claws retracted with a satisfied groan as he dived it. Tongue diving into your pussy like he's trying to scrape the last piece of meat off a bone. Gliding from hole to clit before driving directly into the exact spot he knows makes your toes curl up. Your feet pull at the hem of his shirt as your legs lock around him with a ragged moan.
His hand goes to your lower stomach, pressing gently to keep you in place. His nose rutting against your clit just right to make your thighs tremble as the knot in your stomach starts to form quickly.
"Logan..." You whisper his name, feeling his hand pull you down the bed closer to him. His tongue leaves your hole as two fingers glide in with ease, his lips move back to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your fingers curl into his hair out of habit, tugging at his scalp and making him vibrate against you.
A gasp leaves your lips, feeling your hips start to buck, fighting against his firm hold as the build starts to get too overwhelming. Blissful contractions fill your stomach in waves, orgasm crashing with a muffled mixture of curses and his name.
Panting, you watch him lick his own fingers clean, relishing over the mess you've made of yourself as he stands up. Tugging you to the bottom of the bed by your ankles. There's a noticeable wet spot on the front of his boxers before he discards them. Cock slapping up against the thick bushel of hair on his lower stomach, thick and swollen as he grabs it and gives himself a few strokes. A bead of pre cum slipping from the red tip that quickly moves to coat his shaft in his hand. His grip finds your legs, moving them onto his shoulders as he ruts his tip teasingly through your wet folds.
"Hope you weren't thinkin' we were done. We gotta long morin' ahead of us, darlin'. And I'm lookin’ forward to tasting every single bit of you."
Kurt
Fingers glide over your belly in your wake. Gentle and fuzzy like the body wrapped around you. Blue fur pressed against the shimmering skin of your back, a peaceful purr planted somewhere in your hair. Both of your body's bare from the previous night's actions, skin still dewy and his fur rumpled like a feral animal. His lips move when he feels you stir, kissing behind your ear before you can look back at him.
"You're purring."
"I'm very happy, I have every reason to be. Did you sleep well?" You nod with a yawn, stretching your arms with a roll of your neck. Turning your body, you press into him, his tail curling around your waist. His chuckle gracing your ears, his lips ghosting down the side of your face over the trail he's taken so many times before.
Your hand glides over his firm hairy chest, rosary glinting in the early dawn light with it tangled up in your fingers. His teeth nip at your pulse, tail flicking mischievously against your back.
"How'd you sleep?" You finally question, his head pulling back, yellow eyes looking you over with a gentle smile. His head tilts forward, foreheads meeting with a relieved sigh.
"Better next to you. It's been too long since I got to wake up to you like this." He leans in, mouth planting against yours with a sense of hunger that can only come from your mischievous boyfriend. Lips and limbs tangle together. Breaking each other open through a messy clash of teeth and tongues.
Knee pressing up between your thighs with a roll of his hips. His cocks hard and begging for attention against your stomach. You moan into his mouth before he pulls away, face pressing into your neck. Lips latching onto your pulse with a gentle nibble.
"You just had me last night, you haven't had enough of me?"
"I could never have enough of you, mein Engel." You slowly grin, hand gliding down as it wraps around his base. Making him roll into your hand as he moans at the lazy stroke. Thumb teasing along the underside of his tip just how you know he likes it. Your body's lifted, Kurt moving you against the pillows as he climbs over you. Half lidded eyes looking over you with primal hunger, tongue licking over his teeth with a soft chuckle at your startled eyes.
"You're going to be the death of me... Or my fiery descent into Hell. Especially with every sinful thought that crosses my mind when I look at you like this." You smirk, giving him a gentle squeeze and tug.
"Then I guess you'll need to say a few hail marys to make up for it." He lets out a soft chuckle before his hands wander, lips meeting yours as his thick finger glides through your folds. Plunging into your welcoming heat and stretching you open as his tongue slips into your mouth with a soft hum. His hips try to fuck into your hand as his finger curls right into that spot that has the light behind your eyes turning white with bliss.
You huff against his lips, whining when he pulls away from your grip. Shifting up onto his knees, hands guiding your legs around his waist and crossing your ankles in a snug lock. His tail wraps around your ankles to keep you in place as he lines himself up at your entrance.
Slowly, he slips in with a sigh of relief. Snug in your walls as he finds himself laying over you again. Giving you time to adjust with whispered praises against your ear in German. Your arms wrap around him, both hands digging their nails into the flesh of his shoulder blades under fur.
You moan at the first slow but rough roll of his hips. Pelvis rutting perfectly against your body with the practiced expertise of a man on a mission. The sounds of wet skin meeting damp fur fills the bedroom to mix with the blessed sounds of your mixed pleasure. Blunt nails dig into him as a rough thrust meets the perfect angle.
You cry out, feeling him shift into the right position before starting to drill into that spot with zero hesitation. Tail unraveling your ankles and pulling your legs up higher. His hand glides between yourselves, thumb circling over your clit as you clamp down around him with a soft whimper of his name.
"That's it. Take what you need from me die Liebste, it's all yours. Only yours." His forehead leans down against yours, your eyes squeezing shut with the white hot pleasure blooming through your entire body as you crash over the edge. Gripping onto him as you come with a broken moan.
His hips stutter for a moment, rolls getting sloppy before the last few pounds send him to the point of no return. Face pressing into your neck as you feel him painting your insides with a shaky pant against your skin.
Huffing and puffing you both collapse. Kurt's hands smoothing up your thighs to rub circles on your hips as he tries to ground himself against you. Face pressed into your neck with a soft mutter.
"Ich liebe dich." He kisses your jaw, arm sliding under you as he gets comfortable on top of you. Ignoring his fur matting against your damp skin.
"I love you too." You mutter through rough breaths, lips finding his temple as you hold him close. Reveling in his weight against you and him. Your fluids mixing as come slowly seeps out around his soft cock.
Scott
Coming to life in the dim haze of your bedroom, you roll over, your husband's body turned towards the door. Acting as his usual shield between you and the world. A yawn slips through your lips, arm traveling over his side as you kiss between his shoulder blades. Not to wake him, just to show your undying affection. Face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as he gently stirred.
"Down boy, no emergency, I just wanted to hold you." He hums, low and bassy as he turns towards you, meeting his groggy gaze through his sleep visor. Straps twisted from moving against his pillow, his hair puffed up like owl feathers behind his ears. It makes you chuckle as you're pulled in closer.
"What?" He mutters, hand coasting over your back. The cool metal of his wedding band complimenting his rough finger tips against your skin under your nightgown. He slowly blinks, his almost timidness when he's half asleep makes him all the more handsome.
"You're hairs just... It's nothing baby." You give him a peck to his plush lips as he groans with defeat. Returning the gesture with as much as his brain can manage this early. His head slumps into yours, eyes closing as his grip tightens around you. Protective and strong as always. He leans more into you, cutting all distance between your bodies as skin meets skin.
That's when you feel him, morning wood pressed against your thigh through cotton boxers. The faintest twitch of a heartbeat against you flesh. Your leg moves, he groans again.
"Good morning to you too."
"Ignore it." He mutters, shoving his face in your neck, arms tightening around your waist as your fingers go into his hair. Fixing the bunched up strands from under the top strap and back into place.
"What if I don't want to ignore it?" You tease against his ear, watching him shiver as his head lifts slightly, breath leaving his nose as it tickles your collarbone.
"Your liveliness this early in the morning concerns me... You are my wife, right?" You laugh, nodding to his question with a kiss to his nose. He huffs once, arm moving from under you to hold his head up. Leaning in you kiss his lips slowly, hand cradling his jaw as you mumble against his lips.
"When was the last time we had a morning with each other? No rushed kisses goodbye or not waking up together." His hand rubs your side, pondering the thought with a faint peck to your chin. Lips brushing down to your neck with tender presses to your pulse. A faint response nipping at your skin with his teeth.
"I can't remember." You hum against his skin, turning to kiss him again. Slower this time, molding together with a brush of his tongue along your bottom lip. You pull away as he tries to follow, your hand guiding him to layback. You lift yourself up, legs bending to straddle his waist as you reach for his shades off the nightstand.
"Close your eyes." He listens, squeezing them shut in cute little creases, lashes fanned over the pale outline of untanned skin as you pull them off. Leaning down, you carefully kiss each eyelid, sliding his shades back into place. Leaning back over to set the sleep set down, his hands push your nightgown up with a tender rub of your hips with his thumbs.
"There you are," you smile, eyes tracing his face as you lean back in. Lips connecting with his in a patient dance of hunger and need. His hand runs over your curves, fingers tangling into your hair to deepen the kiss. Your tongues melt into each other as your hips rut against him through his boxers. He gasps, head rolling to the side enough to moan away from your lips.
"Feel good?" Scott nods, trying to collect himself when you sit up. Feeling your mound rub against his clothed length with a slow pace that makes his face start to turn red. Your hands glide up and over his sternum, feeling his heart beat pick up beneath your palm. Trying to escape his ribcage by how hard it's pounding.
"You okay baby?"
"Yeah," he blissfully responds, trying to keep himself in check as you keep pressing against him. His hands give a gentle tug to your nightgown, and you give him what he wants without even having to ask. He watches closely, trying to ignore the growing wet patch making his shorts stick to his shaft. You let him take you in completely once the garment hits the bedroom floor. Hips pressing back into him, leaning over his torso with a lazy roll.
Your hand slides down, finger lingering over the vein protruding from the band of his boxers. Gliding over it with a tender press to its blood flow as you grind down. Moaning along with him when his head nudges your clit through the fabric.
"You- you're trying to kill me." He groans, hands tightening around your sides, slowly sliding down to grab handfuls of your ass as you push down again. Leaning in closer, you whisper in his ear.
"You want these off?" He hums in response, gaze not daring to peel away from your naked body as he ogles every curve and trace of skin when you sit up. You tease his waistband, watching his face start to contort with a notch of impatience. Scott usually has some much of it for your teasing, living for letting you rile him up as much as you wanted, but he's exhausted whatever patience he has.
Your back hits the mattress, a little stunned at his sudden switch for dominance. Scott's over you, lips planted on yours with a rough shove of his tongue into your mouth. As quickly as he's there, he's gone. Pulling away and off the bed, boxers coming off with lightning speed. His cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, heavy and dripping from his tip as you look up at him as his knees meet the mattress.
"Someone's excitable so early." He chuckles, lips turning into a little smirk.
"You like pushing my buttons. Don't act like you're surprised." Your little smug smirk turns to a shit eating grin as he starts climbing over you. Grabbing your legs and letting him maneuver you with a gentle touch only he could have for you.
Scott fits your ass flush with his thighs, legs pulled to rest against his shoulders as he kisses your ankle once. His rough hands sliding up your thighs and prying your lips apart with his thumbs. Staring down at your own dripping mess, eyes glancing up with a look that said 'you're as bad as I am'. His hand slides up, ghosting over the sensitive bundle of nerves with the rough pad of his thumb.
You whine, preening into his hand, making him chortle softly. He positions himself at your entrance, pressing in with a slow glide of his hips. Air leaves your lungs with a gasp at the sudden fullness. Scott forces himself to wait, body slowly leaning forward to hover over you. Your knees nearly pressing into your chest from his weight alone, held in place as he braces a hand on the bed somewhere near your head and his other moving to hold yours against the sheets.
He leans in, pressing a kiss to your heart as his hips start to rock. Body taking over as you grip him with your walls, his head hitting that angle with his usual laser pin point precision. Your fingers tighten around his grip, holding onto your only lifeline in any way you possibly can.
He grunts, face going flush as his pace picks up, leaning in closer as your eyes lock through his shades. Your hand comes up to curve over his jawline and cheek. He moves your legs off his shoulders and spread out wider over the bed. Body moving to cocoon yours with a needy pound of his hips, wanting to hold you close much more than anything.
"Scott..." You whimper as a warning into his shoulder, his lips finding your ear as he coasts along the skin under it.
"I know, baby. Me too." He catches a noise in his throat, damn near close to a whine. Feeling you clench around him at your impending orgasm, your bodies coil together. Scott feels your teeth dig into the muscle of his shoulder as your high rips through you. Making his body jolt, groan pulled from his throat as he fills you up, deep within your walls before he slumps over. Both of you panting messes clinging to each other.
"Sorry... Sorry I bit you." You mumble through breaths, feeling his head turn to kiss along your neck.
"It's okay... Did it break skin?" You glance at his shoulder, met by the indentation of your teeth. It almost makes you a little bit proud as you shake your head.
"No." He huffs, pulling back enough to look at you, both of you covered in a new layer of sweat and slick. If you weren't so sure, you'd miss that look of recognition at a job well done and his tiny hint of pride.
His lips meet yours in a caring kiss before pulling back as he climbs back, pulling off you with a sigh. Tapping your hip.
"C'mon. We're getting cleaned up." You groan, being pulled up by your arms. Sitting at the edge of the bed you see Scott going into his working mode. Pulling the blanket back enough to tug the sheets off the corners before he's back in front of you. Watching you catch yourself from your own head. His voice quiet, hand cradling your chin to keep your attention.
"Hey, why don't you go start a bath for us? We got another hour before I'm needed anywhere. I'll be in once I'm done." You nod with a hum, feeling him kiss your sweaty forehead with a hum.
"Love you," he mutters against your skin.
"Love you too."
Wade
The light of dawn bleeds into your shared bedroom, sun beating into your profile. You've actively been trying to ignore his antics for the better part of twenty minutes. You heard him come in about half an hour ago, lugging himself into the bathroom to shower and come back out to you, spread out in one of his old shirts and underwear. Curled up in the safe space you thought was your bed until this little shit started poking at you after he laid down.
First it was just snuggling, then his hands got antsy, wandering up under your shirt with a some half baked apology. Cold fingers gripping at your chest like his own personal nipple having stress balls. Muttering something to himself about a "lack of self control" and how you were his own personal fidget toy. Which lasted all of two minutes before he was burying his face between your legs and making it his mission to piss you off.
But you know Wade thrives on attention. Wade knows he thrives on attention, that's why he's been edging you and "helping" you "reach the big O" as he'd so proclaimed before jamming his shit eating grin right into your cunt.
And if anything he's fantastic at achieving things if he tries hard enough. But he also likes pushing your buttons a lot more. So, right as you're starting to flutter around his fingers for what's probably the fourth or fifth time by now. He's pulling away, only to look up at your scrunched up face and kiss your thigh with admiration.
You'd kick him in the face if he actually weren't so sweet...
"Y'know baby, if you just gimme what I want I can make both lips of yours smile in a minute flat. I'm not an amateur when it comes to coming. If anything, some depraved pervert, definitely not me, would love to see you grovel for mercy under their touch." He leans his head against your thigh, watching your eyes crack open in a still moderately tired haze.
"There's my girl. You finally see the voice of reason? I sure hope so. You're scrumptious, don't get me wrong. I could live down here for hours, but I don't want you suffering anymore then you have to. Come on, she's weeping for mercy, give her a break." You give a slow blink, no verbal response as he huffs through his nose with a disappointed tut.
"Have it your way, sugar puss. I'm enjoying my A.M.B., apartment mandated breakfast, either way." He shoves his face back between your thighs, making them lock against his head like earmuffs. Back to breaking you apart piece by piece with his motor mouth. Working you right up to that edge before pulling away with an inquisitive hum. Tongue gliding over his lips to clean your juices from his mouth with ease.
"Have you been eating pineapple? I'm getting a hint of sweet-" you don't let him finish as your legs lock around him. Twisting til he's under you and you're up on your knees. Any normal man you'd have to worry about breaking his neck, or killing him. Thank God that's not a problem here.
He's speechless for once in his life, you stare down at his wide eyes, his mouth slightly parted as your hands come up, pinning his in place above his head with an annoyed glare.
"Shut the fuck up and get me off." You growl, legs spread apart as you hover your cunt over his face with a slow grind down towards him.
"You know how to use your mouth any other time, c'mon." He groans under you, head lifting as his tongue moves to slip into place. His hands tug, your grip letting go. His arms come up, wrapping around your legs to pull you down flat against his face. His nose moves against your clit with a guide before your hips roll. Letting you ride his face like he doesn't need oxygen to live.
"Oh fuck," you whimper, hips grinding down in a smooth fast rut that makes the headboard knock into the wall with a thud. A definite noise complaint coming later. Your breath gets shaky as your orgasm slowly starts to build back up again. Chasing the tingle between your legs for only a few seconds before you're gushing on his face with a sharp cry. Palms meeting the sheets as you slump forward.
You pant, slowly trying to move off him. Wade grabs your hips before you can move, tongue dancing across you as he cleans you up from below. Hand tapping your thigh before you pull off. He lets out a gasp for life, breath shaky too as he looks up at you before grinning. Mouth covered in what remains of your release.
"Jesus Marvel Christ I fucking love you. I think Logan might be right, I am God's favorite idiot." He lets out a harsh sigh, leaning up to give you a kiss before you avoid him.
"No, you're not doing that with shit on your face. It's your turn away."
"Oh no, sugar puss. I'm good. I painted my favorite Hello Kitty jammies. But I guess you could say I really said 'Hello' to your kitty." You blink with a groan, slumping back into your pillows, hand rubbing over your tired eyes as he crawls over.
"What the fuck is wrong with you..."
"A lot. I thought we established that at our first fuck-a-thon. Now, just lay back and relax. Daddy needs his stiff drink of punani after a long hard day at work..." He chuckles under his breath with a quick whisper, "Haha, that's what she said."
"Wade," your hand meets his head before he can assume the position again, "it's five in the morning."
"Yeah? And I wanna get pussy drunk. It's always 5 o'clock somewhere."
he literally cannot help it. the second you push your tits together and trap his dick in that soft, warm squeeze his breathing is already ragged and he's looking down at you with his big, watery eyes. and you’re just looking up at him so pretty. lips parted, lashes fluttering, the tip of him poking through your cleavage. and you're smirking.
it makes him feel tingly.
he whimpers. he always whimpers first. grabs onto your shoulders or your hair and starts babbling, “wait wait wait, slow down, you’re so—” but you just squeeze tighter and it’s over.
his hips twitch, stutter, and then he’s cumming in hot, desperate spurts all over your chest, your collarbones, a drop catching your chin. the noise he makes is almost painful.
and then comes the aftermath where he can’t even open his eyes, face burning red, mumbling, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, you just looked too good, i couldn’t stop, fuck—”
and you just gather a little bit off your skin with your thumb and suck it clean while he peeks through his fingers and whines. dick twisting.
tell him it’s cute. tell him you wanna do it again. he’ll bury his face in your neck, mumble that you’re gonna kill him, but he’s already grinding soft against your thigh.
he’s just so pathetically in love with you it makes him pop like a teenager. that’s all.
— requested by pookie bear @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger
froggi yaps -> these have been kicking my ass for dayssss i'm so happy to finally have finished them :,) wade & logan were kind of hard to do since i've already done this prompt w them but still wanted them to be included. enjoy!
Logan Howlett:
Logan likes to pretend like he isn’t the jealous type, despite him being the most possessive man alive. You’re his, and only his, and he’ll make damn well sure everyone knows it. His scent is definitely all over you.
If anyone is getting a little too close to you for his liking—making you laugh too much, maybe getting a little touchy—Logan is on his feet in an instant, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist.
Maybe gets a little too handsy, hands travelling lower to cup your butt, canines grazing the side of your neck. He won’t say anything, he’ll just loom there so incredibly ominously until whoever was with you gets the message and leaves.
“Logan,” you warn.
He just grunts, “you’re mine, you know that?”
And you sigh, suddenly weak in the knees, and nod along to his words. He keeps you extra close afterwards, usually sitting you in his lap and looking sideways at anyone who so much as glances your way.
Wade Wilson:
Wade is absolutely the jealous type but it takes a lot to actually get him going, and when he does, he hides his insecurity behind humour and substances. Still, it gets the best of him sometimes and he just can’t help it.
If someone’s flirting with you, he’s inserting himself into the situation immediately. He’ll sidle up next to you, prop an arm on your shoulder and grin at whoever you’re talking to.
“Excuse us for a moment.”
He won’t even give you a chance before he’s pulling you in for a bruising kiss, tongue swiping along the backs of your teeth. His hands roam your sides, maybe cheekily pinching your butt.
You pull away gasping, hands on his chest. “Wade!”
“What?” He grins goofily, “I couldn’t help it, you look so fuckable.”
Kurt Wagner:
Kurt’s not really the jealous type, and when he is jealous, he just gets sad. He’ll watch someone else hit on you and wonder if he’s enough, if you would prefer someone less blue.
He’ll go quiet for a while, maybe get a little distant while he thinks it over. He does his best to reassure himself, remind himself that you love him and you don’t want anyone else, but it only gets him so far.
Finally, he’ll cave and come to you, dropping to his knees and pressing his face into your stomach. You rest a hand on the back of his head, tilting yours to the side, “Kurt, baby, is everything alright?”
He sighs, words muffled by the fabric of your shirt. His words all come out in one big jumble, each one mumbled and bleeding into the next. Still, you get the gist of it: he’s feeling insecure, and he wants to know if you’d be happier with someone else.
You blink, stunned. “Of course not,” you frown.
“Really?” He pulls away, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“Yes, really.” You reach for his hands, helping him to his feet, “c’mere, silly.”
And Kurt sighs, letting you pull him in for a kiss.
Scott Summers:
Scott either gets really quiet or really arrogant when he’s jealous.
He’s analyzing the situation, watching you talk with a friend. He’s focused on the way they get a little too close, the subtle contact they make on your arm, the way your smile changes ever so slightly.
When he can’t take it anymore, he’s sidling up to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, doll.”
He’ll plant a sloppy kiss to your lips, lingering just a little too long until whoever’s talking to you gets the message. If he’s feeling extra devious, he’s making a snide comment.
You smack his bicep once they’re out of earshot. “Really?”
“What?” He smiles, feigning innocence, “I just missed you.”
Remy LeBeau:
Remy is so clingy when he’s in love with you so it’s only natural he’d be jealous too. But not the angry jealous type, no, Remy gets sad when he’s jealous.
Someone comes up to flirt with you while you’re at the bar and he’s sitting in the corner pouting, nursing his drink and watching. Someone calls you cute right in front of him and he’s not letting it go for the rest of the day.
“Oh that’s cute of you.” “Mhm, yeah, très mignon.”
However, if someone gets handsy with you, Remy’s on his feet in an instant, cards in hand. Is it too far? Maybe, but he doesn’t care.
“This guy bothering you, amour?”
You take a step back into Remy, letting him wrap an arm around you. “Yes,” you say quietly.
That’s all he needs to hear before he’s sizing him up and sending him on the way, hand clenched around the desk of cards in his palm.
Warren Worthington III:
Warren’s jealousy is a lot more low key, but it’s definitely there. He shrugs it off and pretends like he doesn’t care but inside, he’s in shambles. The minute someone else tries to flirt with you, he’s at your side, wrapping an arm around you and leaning his head on your shoulder.
He smiles but there’s no humour behind it as he stares down whoever’s coming onto you.
Sometimes, if he’s been drinking a little or you’re in a safe space for mutants, he’ll even go as far as to wrap his wings around you, creating a shield between you and the other person. You roll your eyes, turning to face him in the trap of wings he’s created for you.
“Baby?”
“Hm?” His jaw is clenched but his eyes are soft when they find yours.
“Can you let me go?”
He tilts his head down, wings ushering you closer to him for a slow and soft kiss. “No.”
Piotr Rasputin:
He’s not really a jealous person to begin with. He knows you’re his and he trusts you enough to believe you’d never do anything behind your back. The rare times he does get jealous is when someone is doing something for you that he could do.
Someone else holds the door? His brows are knitting together. Someone lifts something heavy for you? He’s frowning for the next hour and a half. He’s your partner, he should be the one doing all that for you. He’ll spend the next few hours trying to show off, flexing his muscles and doing everything for you.
He gets a little sad when he’s jealous, too. Is he not enough for you, would you rather be with someone like that? As secure as he likes to think he is, that all melts away in the face of jealousy.
Finally, he’ll come to you, tail between his legs. “Do I make you feel loved?”
You blink, looking up from your book. “Of course you do.”
“Really?”
You dogear the page altogether, putting it down to look at him properly. His lips are pursed in a frown, eyes big and wide with emotions. You rise to your feet, placing your hands on either bicep.
“What’s this about, Petey?”
He sighs and admits to his jealousy, head hung low in shame. It’s only when you cup his cheek and force him to look at you, planting a soft kiss to his lips, that he starts to feel like himself again.
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thanks for reading & have a wonderful weekend /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡
Kurt Wagner who is not abashed, not even one bit, of being nude around you.
Word count: 1.6k
It is with frivolity that he ambles around your sun-flooded room as the morning ripens and swells with warmth, and the great concrete gorges of the city of New York lie imposing and bleak-gray against the low-hanging skies. Rivers of car noise flow unhurried along the avenue, gurgling with intermittent horn hiccups and engine hisses, but it’s muted, sluggish, fading in the air laden with dust and slumber not quite shaken off yet. An eggshell of peace, easily cracked and peeled off; a halt of time between the first alarm and the next, when minutes stretch their limbs like drowsy cats yet seem to fly over your head just as swiftly as a flock of canaries. This wonderfully placid hour of gold, the one you’d keep sleeping through, none the wiser, if not for the promise of a vision that has become the favorite of your routine. A dark blue ink stain against the oranges that paint your mornings — a man basking in the sun’s glory in front of the window.
Before your half-lidded eyes Kurt is bare and candid. A stolen sliver of dusk given form and seemingly for the sole purpose of bewitching impressionable lasses such as yourself. He's all litheness and supple flesh, woven of lax muscle, adorned with ridges and grooves, and as he flexes his neck with a stifled groan, the indigo sea of his pelt moves in languid waves, sheen rippling across the expanse of his back. He yawns, cracks his joints, twists his tail in a mock show of checking its mobility; leisured poise softens every move in a manner that speaks of deliberateness: he knows you are awake and mesmerized by the tango of shadows and morning light on his body.
And who wouldn’t be when the dishevelment of his fur draws a map of your night rendezvous?
Shoulder blades splay like wings — between them furrows of raked hairs mark your nails' trail in a broken line. Your gaze climbs down the soft crest running along his spine, travels past the ravines of his waist and the slopes of his hips, slides across delicate hollows that shape his buttocks, and lingers for a moment too long in the canyon of his mighty thighs. There, beneath the crease of folded skin, shadows lurk, veiling his flesh in a display of modesty of sorts — as feigned as it could be, for the taste of him still coats your tongue in a musky tang, strangely soothing in its bitterish familiarity. You do not hurry to breathe with your mouth, savoring, keeping it in, smeared on the inside of your cheeks.
When you inhale, it’s through your nose, a barely there flutter of air that could have been a rustle of curtains caught in the breeze to anyone else but the man before you. You inhale, the chemical scent of clean sheets swallowed by the fragrant, rain-washed smell of August withering in its cage of brick and glass, and Kurt turns away from the window. Gold outlines the confident, sharp edges of his profile as if attempting to confine the darkness that clings to his features in a half-mask.
Tufts of clumped hair — held together by the remnants of your joined pleasure — frame the curve of his belly and seduce your eye like bold criss-crosses that lead to hidden prizes. His pose is open and blunt, uninhibited with confidence that only comes to those whose soul thrives in its shell, tail coiling and uncoiling in a hypnotizing dance, and a stray glimpse at the shadow-draped softness weighing between his thighs is enough to make you blink away any drowsiness that still lingered.
“Ah, guten Morgen, Dornröschen." Kurt’s voice is a chime, and the settled mischievous coquetry in it rings muted just a tad by unconcealed fondness.
The sun rests its slim palms on the width of his shoulders, running its fingers through his fur, and every hair of it is swathed in gossamer gild. Thick honey of daybreak poured into the blue milk of midnight — like a minuscule solar eclipse. Here he is, standing in front of your window, the light a cloak behind his back and a crown atop his head, and you know not in whose image the Lord could have created such a being, but whoever he was, he was fucking ethereal.
Words are slow to brew in your mouth, so you respond with a stretch of your arms instead. The strain is warm in your muscles, and as you sit up, the duvet slides down helplessly, bunching up at your waist, and the sigil of Kurt’s gaze is almost as tangibly hot on your bared breasts as the fondle of the sun’s hand. His breath doesn’t quite catch, but the flexion of his tail betrays the interest just as plainly. An involuntary little flick up and down — a mental caress born of muscle memory. The shadows swirling between his thighs can’t hide the faint twitch, and you can’t shoo away the smugness from your grin. Two can play at that game.
“Guten Morgen auch dir, Prinz Charming," you sing-song, and Kurt snorts, stepping away from the window.
It is with confidence that he moves around your room, shameless like a cat spoiled rotten, and flakes of dust caught in the golden net float up, disturbed by the movement. His dark figure is a cutout of space amidst the jumble of old furniture you never got around to throwing away and sentimental trinkets, yet your tiny apartment in the heart — or rather in the atrium — of New York City has never felt more like home, this welcomed unearthliness slotting into its dull mundanity like a missing puzzle piece.
Lumps of the tight suit lay cold and crumpled on the floor like patches of shed skin; you watch, head tilted to shoulder in lazy curiosity, as Kurt bends to pick them up and toss them on the chair for later, and the sight of the frizzy fur of his ass is the most tantalizing.
Somewhere in the hallway, one floor above, a front door slams shut, and your ceiling vibrates with the sheer impact of it. Kurt eyes the plaster, cracked enough as it is, and notes with mischievous casualness, “I believe we gave your neighbors quite a headache last evening, Schatzi."
"Headache" would be an understatement. At this point the scandalized side-eyes during elevator rides barely even scald your face with embarrassment, although at first you forced yourself to take the stairs every morning for two weeks straight. Mind-blowing sex and thin walls of American apartment complexes do not mix well, and to everyone else’s misfortune, Kurt is an amazing lover.
You groan.
“We did, yet it is I who will have to apologize to poor Mrs. Tuffin. Again.”
Kurt only chuckles at that — the carefree posture of someone who is not obliged to face a sweet elderly dame next door with a surprisingly keen ear for her age every Sunday. His smile is a scimitar unsheathed, a sharp blade to your poor heart, and the shadows on his face move and fold into lovely crinkles around his mouth. Oh, how shallow your indignation runs for this sly devil, and he knows it all too well, treading in its waters without a worry in that blue head of his.
He makes it to the doorway, an open maw where the sun doesn’t reach, and you call for him in hesitation as well as acceptance.
“You could always come with me, you know. She bakes great wafers”.
Kurt stops momentarily and something smolders in his gaze.
“I’m sure I’m missing out on the fun, Liebling, but you know I can’t." He lingers for another second and offers like a consolation, “I can make breakfast, though. Your favorite, what say you?”
He winks and casts off his golden mantle as the dark hallway swallows the outline of his body, and you swallow your disappointment.
He may not stay as long as you’d want — he barely ever does — but you know he tries to for as long as he can allow. And you know that when, unconcerned with covering yourself, you follow his trail into the cramped kitchen, he will be dancing to some ditty he heard on the TV a few nights back, tail swishing along the whole humble length of the room; that he will use it to pull you closer, your nakedness warm and yielding against his own, and that one of his hands will travel. You know his lips will be creamy with butter, tingly with the fizz of laughter, but just in a matter of half an hour, when the indigo is hidden underneath scarlet and black and the gold is faded pale, they will taste of bitter coffee with one sugar cube and tender oaths.
And you know that one evening — not this one, perhaps not even the next, but some evening — you will walk into your apartment, looming with shadows, dull with quietness, and the bathroom door will be left ajar, just enough for a strip of light to dash the darkness. Inviting wordlessly. And Kurt will be there, a tang of iron dusting the air, exhaustion fogging the crescents of his eyes, yet the sharpness of his smile not blunted and the ambiguity of his pose not concealed with discomfort. You won’t remember who reached out first, but the yearning will run through your fingers in a tremble that will hinder unbuttoning your blouse and make you pull a little too harshly on his hair. He will press himself against you, fur to skin, soothing, warm with rushing blood, and the breathy chuckles will make your skin prickle with adoration. With anticipation of yet another of your personal solar eclipses.
He may not stay as long as you’d want, but you know that he will always come back to you.
Alright venting time. I read and reread this piece so many times, yet I'm still not satisfied with it and I don't think I'll ever be. It was supposed to be a collection of different situations where Kurt is not, quote, "abashed of being naked around you" because we all know he is a freak, but halfway there it transformed into something else entirely, so yeah. I don't like it at all, but I do like the image of butt-naked Kurt walking around my room so I had to get it out of my system in a form of a text that was at least coherent and legible. It's a clumsy attempt but an attempt nonetheless, so that's what counts right?
Anyway I apologize for any grammatical, syntactic, and punctuation errors or any weird phrases, given that I'm not a native English speaker. Constructive criticism is always welcomed.
Hello! I saw that your requests were open :)) Would it be possible to get some headcannons for Kurt, Ororo, Logan, Remy, Scott, Jean and Warren with an s/o who has a very high libido and isn’t ashamed about it? Feel free to skip!
High libido!reader x Remy, Kurt, Ororo, Jean, Scott and Logan (NSFW!! 18+!! MDNI)
!!Reminder that if you like this writing, my reqs are open!! Please direct yourself to the pinned post on my profile for more info!!
Synopsis - gender neutral!! how would Kurt, Ororo, Logan, Remy, Scott, Jean and Warren react to reader with high libido. This is sex across the board. Are they into it? + other random stuff about how sex would go (kinks, all that good stuff) + how they’d be after sex for sillies.
C/W - smut/mentions of smut, mention of kurts tail being used during sex, Logan’s claws are featured, f!recieving, m!receiving, gender neutral!reader, ice/temp play, jean using telekinesis to move sex toys, 5’3 wolverine (sorry 6ft+ wolverine truthers)
A/N - hai anon!! i love this, i wanted to make sure i covered all bases of “high libido” i really hope this lives up to your expectations :3
This took me so long with me being sick and I kept feeling a little repetitive, BUT ITS HERE AT LAST! I did unfortunately completely forget Warren though
I feel a little bad that all of them are pretty much a yes, cause I feel like a broken record but genuinely ALL the xmen are freaks with a lot of stamina, don’t blame me—blame people who write for them, I’m simply humbly interpreting
Not proofread…gulp
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Remy Lebeau/Gambit
- to say he’s into it is an understatement. I don’t think he minds his partners sex drive (was willing to pursue his love for rogue, even when neither of them were sure if there would ever be a solution to their touch problem.) however, I think he’d be more than happy to have a lover with a similar or same libido to him. Sex happens so often it’s genuinely a miracle either of you get stuff done. A morning quickie, date night sex, club bathroom, his car, the couch, kitchen counter. You’ve both mastered the art of getting each others clothes off in record time.
- He’s down for pretty much anything that isn’t hurting you, he’s okay with putting you in a bit of a headlock, maybe a little holding your jaw, but he doesn’t want you ever struggling to breathe, even a little. He has no qualms with you tying him up, giving him a little adrenaline rush, edging him. He’s an adrenaline junkie, he loves that shit. He can be dominant or sitting on his knees begging to go down on you, it’s up to you really.
- Remy is a “ready for sex” whenever kind of guy. You feel in the mood? The dudes already hard. He could go almost anywhere, anytime, anywhere, although his favourite places would be: bed, couch, and his car. He would have no issues keeping up with you, and would enjoy it.
- We KNOW he’s competitive, so occasionally seeing who can overexert each other more is a game. Teasing eachother, seeing who taps out first.
In the case that you win.. what finishes him off is you riding him. Seeing you on top of him, There’s a strange sort of intimacy of it. You moving slowly up and down his overstimulated cock, it makes his eyes glass over a little. He forgets to speak English, clutching onto your hips like it’s all that’s keeping him together. He looks sooo pretty when he finally reaches his climax.
In the case that he wins.. he’s going down on you. He has been for hours. Teasing you, coaxing each edged orgasm after orgasm from you. His hair messed up from your sweaty hands pulling on it helplessly. he gets so fucking cocky with you like this. he could honestly cum just from going down on you. at your final orgasm, on the last leg of his relentless victory, he wouldn’t tease it out of you. instead just letting you cum. Kissing up your body afterward for a brief break before round two.
- Remy can absolutely keep up. no matter how competitive you both get, you end up haphazardly thrown around each other, snoozing together and contentedly exhausted. He wakes before you just so he can make you something to eat, kissing you awake with the gentlest coaxing.
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Kurt Wagner
- Mr.“make more mutants” himself… the dude is a freak. gambit could match your libido, but kurt?? he is THE freak. i don’t think he could go a crazy amount of rounds all at once, BUT i do think he has stamina. so multiple longer, drawn out rounds, a lot of experimenting…if you catch my drift. he is into it!! i think he would be able to manage it pretty well. probably does need a decent amount of recharging time however.
- The tail gets used. (looking at you, Uncanny Spider-Man Issue #3 and legion of x #4..) he can grab with it, he can restrain wrists with it, any wild thing you could think of to do with his tail? he’s not above trying it at least once.
- I feel like he’s a little shy about biting/leaving hickeys, but if you’re into it he doesn’t mind a little grazing of skin with his fangs. i think he would draw the line at drawing any blood on purpose though. He’s SO down for you biting him a little, and would totally be down for you giving him hickeys,..except, he feels bad that they don’t show up and you have to have a mouthful of fur each time you attempt to give him any/
- Slightly off but on topic, i think he prefers sex in a colder environment cause of his fur, not overheating makes him last longer. He also doesn’t mind a little cold temperature play as well. Ice, water, cold hands..as well as having a shower ritual before having sex with you (unless you don’t mind the sulphur smell that clings to his fur, however he would need to be HEAVILY talked into not showering before sex. Dude gets a little insecure of the weird rotten egg smell)
- Again, he’s not one for super fast aggressive rounds, the slower, sensual, drawn out ones are what he’s good at. If you’re both starting to tire it’s not uncommon for you both to end up falling asleep while having sex, waking up and then starting up again.
- He gives the sweetest aftercare, he’s all holding you close, making sure he didn’t accidentally cut you or leave any marks, pressing kisses all over your shoulders while you bathe together (it’s also incredibly fun to lather up his fur. It just feels cool).
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Storm
- The most elegant freak you’ve ever came across. When you guys start having sex I think both of you are mapping each other out. The first few times you both realise you have high libidos and from there, it only gets better. Storm is so lovingly put together and calm, that half the time you can’t fully tell when she’s down for sex until she’s kissing just a little too low down your neck.
- Shes the type to go multiple rounds with you, fall asleep with you—and when you wake up she’s drinking tea and reading a book as if you weren’t making each other cum hard enough to feel a little light headed and seeing stars. She will smile sweetly, pouring you a cup too (if you like tea) and sitting with you for a little while, reading together or she reads and you watch something on TV.
- TEMP PLAY!! or messing about with sensations!! I defo see storm as being somebody who can take both a dominant role, or a more submissive one. However if she’s feeling like being a little dominant: you blindfolded, trailing a thin layer of water over your skin and using her mutation to summon a little breeze to blow over your skin, watching the goosebumps rise on your skin. I also don’t think she would entirely object degrading you a little. Not super cruelly, but more of a “praise and degrading” sort of thing.
- Loves receiving oral or having you either get off on her strap (yes, she has one. it doesn’t matter if you’re a man or woman, or anything in between.) or, other way round and it’s her being on the receiving end of some form of penetration. especially if she doesn’t have the full energy to get into the mood and wants to take a bit of a backseat while you satisfy yourself.
- Honestly, depending on the day I think it’d be you worrying about if YOUR libido could match hers, again. She is so calm and wise but I don’t think she’s shy in the bedroom by any means, if she’s in the right mood she can outlast YOU 😭
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Jean Grey
- Yes. So blatantly yes. Jean is similar to storm in a way, she comes off so calm and lovely, nobody would guess how she could be in the sheets. It even took YOU off guard. You assumed she would likely just able to manage the average, when you guys decided to have your “what to expect from sex” talk (what are hard no’s, kinks, how you like being taken care of after, getting to know what lines can or can’t be crossed) you’d let her know about your high sex drive. Letting her know that she never needed to feel compelled to keep up, and that if she was tired you had no qualms getting off yourself. She just smiles, telling you not to worry.
- When you have sex, she can fully keep up. In fact SHE is the one giggling about slipping in a little morning sex after a night that has tuckered you both out. Shes like..half subtle. Jean is the type of woman people lower their heads to simply out of respect. She can semi keep that air about her when both of you decide to sneak off for a little while.
- A hard no for her is ever using her telepathy on you during sex or using it to manipulate your feelings/consent in any way. Although, she’s not above using her telekinesis to make stuff move. if you’re both women (or a dude into this sort of thing), yes she is controlling the thrusting movement of a dildo for both of you.
- she gives the BEST aftercare, I see her as being very attentive. Again, the telekinesis comes in handy when it comes to getting things for you both from far away. She knows what you want (she may or may not read your mind to figure it out, however she knows you pretty well regardless)
- Neck kisses make her fold, literally for ANYTHING. If she’s contemplating something and you pull out the puppy eyes and a kiss to her neck? She’s a goner. And that includes caving in the bedroom too, if you beg just right she would let you cum in a heartbeat, She thinks it’s sweet even in the most sexual of contexts.
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Scott Summers
- He’s into it but he lowkey plays it off at first. the first time you guys have sex he’s a little awkward, and very much scared of his visor accidentally getting nudged or coming off. “am i doing this right?” “does this feel good” needs a lot of hands on learning, show him where you like being touched, let him watch you masturbate for uh..scientific research, let him learn what you’re into. However once he learns? the dudes a menace. he learns quick and keeps that information locked in his mind.
- He can last a long time, but similar to Kurt loves a sort of soft thought out sex. He’s also not above having sex to de-stress, being a leader sucks at times and sometimes he just wants to have you ride him or let him take over while he mutters about his day under his breath. he gets the habit of pulling on the sheets to the point there’s faint frayed spots all over them where the fabric has been worn down.
- Big fan of cuddling with you after sex, he might sit there working away on stuff while having his arm around you or your head on his shoulder. He needs a good recovery time afterwards. He also unironically loves holding hands during sex. You’re riding him? His hand is lacing with yours. He’s got you down on the bed? You feel his hand creeping up to give yours a squeeze
- Acts like the idea of you giving him head under his desk is scandalous, however does still allow you to do it time to time, only when he KNOWS nobody will walk in. The risk is there, sure. But if he’s expecting somebody it’s a hard no. He’s a freak, a shy one—but he also wants to remain professional when it matters.
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Logan
- Assuming we are talking about Logan when he’s in his prime, not only has he been alive for a long ass time, but we all know he could keep up as well as have a shit on of experience (If it’s old man Logan, I don’t think so. Be careful with that old man, he tries.)
- He’s into it absolutely no question. The dude goes FERAL for it. He has no shame either, that little guy is dragging you away at moments notice if you’re both in the mood (which, pretty much every time you both are) + he can smell when you’re getting a little hot under the collar. He uses that to his advantage as often as possible.
- Hard, Rough, Toe curling, Bed breaking sex. Sure, he’s small for a dude but he packs a punch (not literally. He’s here for a little grabbing your chin to look at him, but never actually hitting you). He can also lift you pretty easy no matter how much taller/heavier you are than him.
- This may be a head canon that gets me jumped by a certain area of wolverine enjoyers, but I don’t think logan is exactly the biggest down under the way I’ve seen others write him (I’m talking, people writing him as if he’s wayyyy above average.) he’s thick and 4-5 inches so kind of average/a little below, a lot of body hair. He knows how to use it, and he’s well past any shame he may face.
- Sex anytime, anywhere, any planet, and he’s pretty much down for anything. He goes between being pretty dominant, purely sweet and loving (when he really wants to appreciate you and love all over you), and being grumpy and slightly reluctant when receiving, not cause he doesn’t like it. But when he’s the center of attention, he gets a little flustered. Instead of flushing pink like the average person, he opts for being grumpy.
- He’s so careful with aftercare, his claws DO come out when he cums, he’s making sure any injuries his claws may have accidentally given you are patched up (he would honestly stop sex mid way to patch you up, even if you like a little pain), hugging you, that gruff Canadian accent giving slightly awkward praise.
Warnings: {18+ MDNI} Reader has sexual thoughts, reader is ovulating, mentions of sex (no actual smut), profanity
A/N: I neeeed Kurt to be real.
Maybe it’s the smile. How white teeth, some sharp some not, brighten up your day when flashed at you. He smiles to much how could it not be his smile that has you riled up like this? You see it when he wakes up and when he goes to bed, both after he kisses your forehead.
Then you wondered, maybe it’s his hands. His big, strong hands. The way he holds onto you every morning as he’s snuggled up against you because you’re HIS. The way a hand rests on your lower back when you guys go to a fancy event.
And, not to far off from his hands, you started to wonder if it was his arms, too. He’s always working out his upper body muscles anyways. So, his biceps are there and very prominent. Maybe it was his muscles.
But who are you kidding.
You’re just ovulating. Every innocent thought, excuse, whatever just gets clouded up with lust. Pure lust and desire.
His smile? You wanted to see his smile as he came inside of you for days now. Something purely feral inside of you just wanted those pearly whites to bite into your neck and thighs as he claimed you as his once more.
You wanted his hands on your naked body. Caressing every inch of you, fingering you, anything. You wanted him to worship you.
When you saw him training all you could see was the muscles flexing in his arms. Those strong, strong arms. You wanted him to manhandle you, be rough with you as he pounded inside you. It was getting so bad to the point that you didn’t even care which hole he used.
It didn’t matter what he wore right now. Even when he wore his priest attire you could help but want him. You just wanted him. You wanted your husband.
Every hour, everyday, everywhere.
It’s too bad he couldn’t take a hint. Like for example you put emphasis onto “good” when you told him he looked really good today. And he just smiled and pecked you on your cheek.
Or last night, when you wore fancy royal blue lingerie to bed and he just kissed you again on your forehead. Part of you felt like you were being punked. Kurt’s libio sometimes can be no joke. When you first met him, he tried to restrain himself but you two ended up doing like rabbits anyways.
He said it didn’t matter anyways though because he knew he wanted to marry you. And then he did.
That was only a year ago.
You know the honeymoon phase is not over just yet. You and Kurt didn’t even need one with how strong your love was. But you just wished he’d pick up on these signals that you wanted nothing more but to fuck him like crazy.
All you needed was 5 minutes to passionately tear him apart. One orgasm.
What’s worse is he could literally be doing anything. Laughing, eating cereal, doing his hair, stretching, reading…
It didn’t matter. You wanted to pounce on him nonetheless. You were hungry.
Ovulating made you more crazy for him than you already were which was hell. It almost made you feel disgusting. Even though he is literally your husband now, he’s not as horny as you typically. You keep thinking about when he showed up in you guys room in his priest robe looking all serious. It was 8am on a Sunday, and you just woke up. He had early mornings on Sundays so he let you sleep in a bit.
He looked almost divine as he looked out the window, pondering in the golden sunlight. Beautiful, is how you’d see him if it was any other day. But, because it was this special week, he looked exquisite. And of course ridiculously attractive. You watched him silently from your shared bed as he just looked. He didn’t notice you were awake for 10 minutes.
You felt bad. This isn’t why he was dressed up, to be your eye candy. Lust is something you felt shame for even for your husband.
But, it drove you crazy. He fit you like a glove, it was just meant to be. It drove you crazy how in the mornings he never got morning wood do you’d have an excuse to “relive him”. It drove you crazy that he barely reacted to your lingerie. That you kissed him longer during these times or even held onto him tighter when he had to go.
And, so you finally confront him one day.
“Kurt..”, You say one night sitting on his side of the bed watching him in the bathroom wash his face.
You see his ear twitch towards you, and then he looks at you while humming in acknowledgment.
You say it looking right into his golden eyes, “Kurt..I want you.”
He doesn’t move for a second. Then he cocks his head.
“Vant me? How so?”
“Don’t play dumb, Kurt. I want you.”, you responded slightly annoyed. You tried to give him your best bedroom eyes too, batting your lashes and all, but he seemed unbothered.
“You vant me..hmmm.” He says looking back in the mirror. You can’t see his face fully but you swear he’s smiling to himself now.
“What’s funny?”, You giggled, though still a bit annoyed he’s playing with you. It would be more funny if you biggest want right now was for him to disrespectfully fuck you through the mattress.
He doesn’t respond this time. The room is silent aside from him moving in the bathroom and the beating of your heart from anticipation in your ears. He just hangs his towel up and comes out the bathroom still smiling. He stops in front of you and then he lifts your chin up so you can look into his eyes once more.
Then lowly, “How do you vant me, my dear?”
“Kurt-”
“Shhhhh,” He puts a finger to your mouth. “Tell me. Because i’ve been waiting for you to say it all week.”
Ohhh, he’s been waiting.
You bite your lip a bit thinking if you should say it, and then you do. “I want you to fuck me. Make love to me. Anything. Please.”
“Finally.”, he says with a big smile across his face. “You just don’t know how bad I vanted to ruin you when you wore that blue two piece.”
Before you can respond he leans down to kiss you deeply. Both of his hands hold onto your face gently as he hummed in satisfaction.
You tried to ignore the annoying ache between you legs when he breaks away so let you speak. “Why…make me say it? You’ve been driving me crazy for ages now.”
“I simply needed to make sure I was reading things correctly. That you really wanted me.”, He whispers it before kissing you once more, this time with more hunger. “Didn’t vant to overstep.”
You sigh as his hands reach behind you to unclip your bra. “Maybe I should just flat out tell you more often.”
“Maybe so.”, he chuckled while pulling off his shirt. “Now lay back for me. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
