#collosus x reader

[amoristt]

-- Colossus content???? *Rubs my hands together* Id like to request something slow-burney! maybe hes trying to gain readers trust after she's rescued and brought to the x-mansion?

HEEHEE part 1 to the idea i have for this >:) i hope u enjoy i really i really love a good hurt/comfort and colossus is just so *chef kiss* abt it hehehehe

ty for any reblogs and comments! they make my day <3

4 or 5 moments. 

4 or 5 moments to be a hero. 

4 or 5 moments to make the difference- to teach a broken soul that there was always light at the end of that dark, dark tunnel. 

Colossus was determined to be the hand that guided for each one.

The first moment was quiet. 

Lingering outside one of the many bedrooms of the X-Mansion, a plate of food in one hand a prayer (a glass of water) in the other, Colossus stands. The faint echoes of voices and steps blend into the soft buzzing ambiance wisping through the halls. All the sounds melt into one, a background track looping on repeat day in and day out. It was a good soundtrack. Safe. It always brought him joy to hear such… Casualty. Veins of life snaking through the kitchen, the foyer, the living areas. 

Everywhere, except for your room. No, that space remained just as dead as the day he’d brought you in. You were almost nothing in his arms- a shattered, catatonic little thing with more bruises than not. You didn’t fight. Barely even breathed, let alone moved, as he settled you so gently into your very own bed in your very own room, where he promptly left you to decompress in your very own silence. 

And silent was how it stayed. 

Of course Colossus knew that this would take time. All rehabilitations did. Though he had to admit, the situation he’d found you in was certainly one of the worst. The state he found you in was barely even human- more like a frightened animal who’d been stuck inside a cage. All across the world, small underground facilities were beginning to pop like roaches. In these facilities, poor humans would be bamboozled and subjected to unimaginable torture until they would forcibly mutate. It was a problem the X-Men were growing unfortunately familiar with. 

But this, the horrible place he’d found you in, was the next step on that awful ladder. 

Mutating was rare in general. And sometimes, those with exceptional powers would be carted off to even more secretive places where the days would be spent being a live guinea-pig. The first idea (that Colossus was aware of) was to seemingly extract the mutated genes from the newly-formed mutant to create more. When that didn’t work, they would begin to target the actual DNA itself, see what they could tamper with and what they couldn’t. Broad studies to see what the mutant body could survive were a given. 

There was never, ever a survivor of this. Colossus himself had seen it almost a dozen times now. Bodies strapped to tables, chained to walls, discarded and dismembered. It always made him sick to his stomach, but he choked down the hopelessness of it all. He would be present at every single one, taking down anyone responsible. Searching tirelessly for even the chance of there being a survivor. Even when he knew deep down in his metal heart that he would only be met with more carnage. 

Every room only confirmed that. 

Until he found you. 

You, in what looked like a cubicle of bars, tucked all the way into the corner, unphased by the chaos of the X-Men seizing the facility. When he’d pried his way inside, he expected you to look up at him, beam when you’d learned that you were being saved. That you would be getting out of this place alive unlike the countless before you. The countless that would inevitably be after you. 

But, you didn’t. You didn’t even look at him. There was nothing behind your sullen, empty eyes. If not for the rise and fall of your chest, he would have thought you were dead. When he picked you up into his large arms, you remained still as a statue. No fight, no sounds. He felt pity in his chest- whatever they had done to you, it certainly broke you. You had truly given up.

But this is what the X-Men were for. Saving people. Helping.

And he knew that you, a mutant who’d been through hell and back, could be helped. It was as true as time- Colossus knew it. 

So, he brought you to the X-Mansion. And, after you were medically cleared and cleaned, he knew now would begin the process of bringing you back to life. To plant seeds and nurture them until you bloomed into something beautiful. But, god, seeing you after you’d been so carefully treated, you were still so empty. Free of all the dirt and grime that stuck to your skin, your bruises and cuts only seemed to get worse. No amount of rinsing would restore the color to your eyes. 

No matter. This was the start of your journey, your new life. 

He was careful to give you your space, as much as you needed. Though he had nothing but questions, and nothing but time between missions, he never tried to force you to talk to him. Hell, for now, you didn’t even have to listen to him. Just exist and breathe and feel the soft bed underneath you, the warm blanket on top of you. The warm plates of food he’d bring every morning that you had yet to touch. 

He knew there were only two reactions to the sight of food in the early days of rehabilitation- either instinctual hunger or disinterest. The former was always the best- food, Colossus had found, was always a gateway into conversation. It was a motivator, a doorway. But of course your case had to be the ladder. It had to be hard. Had to be countless breakfasts, lunches, and dinners tossed into the trash with a sigh. He never pushed. Never urged you to eat- just set the plate and a glass of water on the nightstand beside your bed and hoped. 

At the five day mark, he began to feel the seeds of anxiety sprout in his heart. Uncertainty, stress. You had only, so far, drank a few glasses of water, which taught him you were at least acknowledging the meal before you. You were just actively choosing to ignore it. But, regardless, there was some form of survival instinct at play. Dehydration was a killer. And Colossus knew this was a tricky, lengthy process. Enduring who-knows-what levels of torture didn’t seem likely to stir up an appetite, after all. You just needed time.

But then a whole week came and went. 

Seven days with no food in your belly, plus however long it had been since those bastards fed you before he found you. The sprouts of anxiety had turned into creeping vines that squeezed tighter with every failed attempt to get you to eat something. At this rate, he feared you would die of malnutrition before you even got the chance to heal. Time was the answer- he knew that, it had to be. It always was- but how long could you go?

Colossus stared at the door in front of him, oddly finding himself working up the courage. Was his presence frightening you? Was his size intimidating? Should he send NTW in instead? Doubting himself was a foreign concept but this was something more sensitive than he’d anticipated. 

When he finally reaches for the knob and turns it, he cracks the door open and pauses. Just long enough to show you that you have the option to stop him. You never do. Never even acknowledge his presence at all. Always tucked on your side curled into a fetal position with the blanket up to your ears, unmoving, unblinking. Like a corpse. More than a few times you’d frightened him until he learned that you weren’t dead, just simply… Not all there. Alive, breathing, but not there. 

The first sign that there was brain activity at all was when the shaking began. After a few days, when he’d bring you breakfast, you’d start to shake like a leaf as he stood over you. Scared, you would curl into yourself just a little tighter. It broke his heart, but it also told him something. 

It told him you were starting to take in your environment. And that reminded him that under all that trauma-induced catatonia, there was life.

Colossus was determined to bring that life back into you. Something drew him to it, no matter how frustrated he felt at every hurdle. He was nothing if not patient. 

It’s the second time he’s visited you so far today. The first, like always, was when the sun had just breached over the horizon. He would poke his head through the door as quietly as a giant metal man could be and make sure you were still alive. So far, he was met with that rise and fall of your chest, and he was satisfied. 

Now he brings breakfast, the first meal of the day and in his opinion, the most important. Two pieces of bacon, an egg, a slice of toast, and of course a tall glass of water. Simple, easy to digest and balanced. Just the way it should be. With the daily hope of today being the day, he walks inside and say’s a soft goodmorning. You, of course, remain quiet. 

But, to his shock, progress had been made yet again. 

You aren’t laying on your side curled pathetically into yourself. Your back is to the headboard, knees brought up to your chest, head ducked into them. The blanket pools around your waist. Your arms wrap around yourself like a barrier from the outside world, protecting you from everything. Even him. 

“I’ve brought you breakfast,” He starts for the eighth day in a row, setting the plate and water on the nightstand. “You should eat something today.”

Every morning Colossus drew just a little bit closer to you when he’d speak to you. Now, eight days later, he stands a mere few feet from you. You didn’t acknowledge him, but that was okay. Today was already starting off miles better than any other had thus far.  Much like the other rehabilitation cases he’d taken on, he wished he could read your mind. Wished he could peek into the twists and turns of your psyche, the quiet horrors that buried you alive. He was determined to see you breach the surface, see the color light back into your eyes. 

In the meantime, he knew these first baby steps were pivotal, and as much as he despised pushing you… An entire week at the very least with an empty stomach was nothing to mess with. He didn’t have much of a choice. .

“It has been days. You must eat something.”

He sighs deep in his metal chest, looks over at you and makes a mental note that the bruises on your elbows and wrists have begun to fade. That, and another even more subtle splash of progress: you weren’t shaking. Not yet, anyways. It’s a small victory he takes in stride, another successful baby step. 

The expected silence is heavy. Of course he’s the one to break it, sucking in a short breath before he hesitantly sits down at the edge of the bed. He tries to settle as quietly as possible given how… Intimidating his size can be, but he can’t stop the way the bed dips underneath him. He rests his hands in his lap and stares down at the floor. 

“I know you are frightened,” He starts softly, cringing when he shifts his weight and the bed groans under his weight. You’ve still yet to start trembling thankfully- it grants him a glimmer of hope. He eyes the plate. “This is much to take in. But, you are safe here. You can take as much time as needed. But until then, you must eat.”

No response. Just sullen, quiet fear. He doesn’t push any harder than that- leaves you to settle once more and shuts the door behind him as gently as he could manage. 

In stark contrast, the rest of the mansion is buzzing with life, as always. After his visit with you, Colossus returns to his daily schedule, a modest routine that has him bounding for the wide, open yards to get his daily workout in. The radio chirps at him, the sun is bright, the grass is soft. Afterwards, he makes himself lunch, reads a few chapters of his book. A quiet, mundane albeit lovely day thus far.  

Through it all, he tries to fight off a nagging anxiety that’s been building in his chest. He wasn’t a man of doubts, but a part of him wasn’t so sure anymore. He wasn’t sure what the next step would entail if the food remained untouched. He wouldn’t force feed you. God, no. It would decimate any and all hopes for you to trust him. He’d likely have to transfer you to some specialized hospital, somewhere you could be monitored. But even that was so… cold, so sterile. You needed warmth, peace. You needed to see life would continue on. Not a hospital room and a dozen white coated strangers poking at you in all directions. 

He steps down the hall, his normally confident gait staggering just a little. Just enough. For all he knew maybe you had some sort of healing factor- but even so, would it be able to save you from malnutrition? Hunger was also certainly a killer. Worries gnaw at him- what if your body gave way before you could even get the chance to come around? There was so little of you already.

When he reaches your door, he can’t help but pause, staring at the wooden entry before him. Carefully, he turns the knob, and like always, waits for the chance you may stop him. You don’t- he steps inside. 

You’re laying on your side, back facing him, a position he’s grown used to seeing. Naturally, on instinct by now, he scans for the rise and fall of your chest. The evidence of life. His breath leaves him in relief when he finds it. The curtains blow gently in the breeze. The sun, high overhead in the blue sky, haloes you. He approaches as quietly as a metal man can. When he’s close enough to take in your expression, he can’t help but appreciate your features. You’re sleeping, eyelashes heavy on your cheekbones and your body void of all its tensions. Peaceful, unaware. He wished to see more of it. 

But, he backs away, and glances at the plate. 

He sucks in a sharp breath of pure, genuine joy when it sits empty. His heart rate picks up in seconds flat, a grin spreading over his face before he even realized it. All those anxieties that had been creeping through his chest like slithering veins evaporate, replaced by a sense of relief he doesn't feel himself experiencing too often. It catches him off guard, has to breathe to settle back down. 

He knew it. He knew it, he knew it, he knew it. Why had he been so worried? Why had he been so doubtful of his efforts, of yours? All you needed was time. And now that you’d taken this shaky step, you had accepted the chance to heal. Even the glass of water was empty. You wanted to live, horrified and uncertain or not. While he takes in the incredible sight before him, you sigh in your restful slumber and nestle even more into the bed. 

Colossus plucks the plate from the nightstand and mentally rejoices. It’s a little victory- one of the most simple, but it speaks volumes over all else. He stacks the cup onto the plate and balances it in one hand, the other hesitantly reaching out for your sleeping form. Gently, carefully, he catches the fabric of your blanket between his fingers and drags it up to your chin, tucks you in just a little more. 

Oh, how he smiles when you nestle into it. You nuzzle the blanket and hum- a tune that reaches him like a beautiful song. It’s the first noise you’ve made since you’d arrived- and it was so lovely. He can audibly hear you relax, accepting. 

The walk back to the door is one of victory. The door is shut behind him just as quietly as before. The road ahead was long and winding, he was sure, but there would be an end. You would get better. He just knew it. 

He carries that plate into the kitchen like it’s an award.

[stalkingthenet333]

The tags are who I’ll write for :)

[windownextdoor]

RENOVATIONS

sfw + nsfw + plot + simon riley x fem!reader wc: 745 wanting independence, you buy a home. yes, it was a fixer-upper. but, who said your neighbor couldn't help? pt. 1

fallen off trim. messed up brick. peeling paint. rotten boards.

a hand ran over your face as you stood in front of your house.

your house!

excitement trumped all of things wrong with this place. yes, a lot of work was needed. yes, you'd probably spend more renovating the thing than you spent on buying it, but c'mon!

you were a 22 year old woman, fresh out of college, and bought a house. that has to account for something.

you walked up to the small porch, just enough to fit two chairs and a table in between them, feeling the boards under your feet. creaky, one board is molding, the other is somewhat- broken. a small smile fell on your face.

you couldn't wait to get to work.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵

everything you had from your dorm fit into your small, beaten up nissan altima, so unpacking was an insanely easy task. a regular black mattress frame and a mattress, one box of your clothes, your toiletries fit into your backpack, and the rest of the house was bare.

it looked sad.

but, it was all you had. you were supposed to start your new job as a barista on monday, so you had about three days to work on what you could with the house before you had limited time in the day. it was almost five pm, so you made your way out of your house and started making a long list of things you needed to re-do.

looking up and down at your notepad and the view of your house, you started writing.

paint, wood, trim, a drill, paintbrush, grinder-

"didn't know someone moved in next door." a raspy, deep voice ground out.

you whirled around fast as your heart jumped out of your fucking chest. your eyes landed on a towering hulk of a man, his elbows on his porch railing, leaning over ever-so-slightly, a lit cigarette between his pointer and middle finger.

his house was directly next to yours, looked way better, but you could take a couple of steps and be in his yard.

you tried calming yourself, "you scared me." you laughed lightly at the man, smiling somewhat, but nodded, "but, yes, i just moved in. literally today."

he grunted.

you blinked a couple times, before asking, "what's your name?"

"simon." his voice was flat, your smile dropped a little. you exchanged your name, trying to get out of the silence. you looked back to your house.

he didn't seem like he wanted to say anything else, so you started writing more things down.

you definitely needed a lot of power tools-

"ain't 'cha a little young to have a house, love?"

your pulse jumped at the 'love'.

you looked up from your writing pad and rolled your eyes at him as he took a drag of his cigarette, "you're making assumptions about me when you met me, like two minutes ago?" you retorted, a hand on your hip as you looked at him.

he ran a hand through his dowdy blond hair, before stomping out the cigarette, "just observing, y'look too excited for that fixer-upper of a house." a side of his lip a slightly turned upwards, not fully a smirk, but definitely not a smile.

"i'm actually twenty-two, thank you, old man. can a girl not have independence?" you eyes ran over him again as he stood to his full height, jesus christ, the man was collosus.

"old man? thirty-three's old now?" he said, his eyes raking over you in a way you are certainly overanalyzing.

wait- thirty-three? fucking eleven years older? talk about a dilf. it would be fitting if he had a child, but it didn't look like he did. you doubt he'd be out here talking to you if he had a kid of his own.

you pushed that thought away and laughed a little, "considering you are bee-keeping age, i'd consider you old."

an eyebrow turned up lazily, "i'm not even going to ask what that means."

you snorted and shook your head.

he nodded his head toward you, "i'm going back inside, have a good night, neighbor." his voice was scratchy, with a lilt of teasing behind it.

"you too, neighbor." you replied with the same tone. a small, gruff laugh left him before you heard his door close.

you smiled stupidly as you finished writing your necessities down.

tomorrow, you'd start the real work. maybe with the help of someone, who knows?

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵

pt.2

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: (Reader x Nanami) In the aftermath of a disturbing dream, Kento enfolds you in the solace only he can bring.

Rated: T

Contents: Angst, Suspense, Romance.

Banner artwork: She Did Not Turn - David Inshaw (1974)

Dividers by: @rookthornesartistry

You dream that he is standing in a dried out field, far removed from anything familiar. The alien sun encroaches with terrifying proximity on the horizon, a red collosus, but you feel none of its warmth. It is as if no atmosphere exists around you here, nothing to carry minute traces of sensation from your skin to his across the quivering, paper thin stalks that stab through the earth.

Kento.

Yes, it's your voice, but you have no mouth with which to speak his name. Your presence is a muted one. It doesn't carry any weight here.

He stands, back towards you, and in spite of the chilling distance between your form and his, you can make out the tender part of his hair, which you've run your fingers through countless times when he lays his head in your lap. You can see the way he leans slightly to the left, his straight posture now and then giving way to an old knee injury that plagues him. You watch his hands clench and unclench, reflexively, as he does before setting his mind to a new task, a small gesture of readiness, of his eternal sense of duty.

Kento. What are you getting ready to face?

And why alone?

The stillness of the air is beginning to awaken a restless rebellion in your body. You need to be closer to him. You need to touch him, or that hungry, hungry sun will swallow him up, leaving no trace of him on this fallow ground.

No mouth. No fingers. No legs to carry you to him.

But isn't this how you've always felt? As if you're a powerless spectator, watching as the man you love above all others marches with steady inevitability towards a seething horizon that blows apart under any kind of scrutiny?

How fragile is the human form? How tender is the flesh? You can't help but think of such things, even when enfolded in the vital strength of his arms, even when the sweat of lovemaking cools on your skin and his, and the substantial weight of his body sinks against you, drawn in by the crushing gravity of your embrace.

At those times, you hold him close and wonder at how easily his strength could be shattered, at how frail the connecting web of bone, muscle and blood, everything that made up your Kento, truly was.

Was it monstrous to think that way? Was it so taboo to voice your fears, when you should be dwelling on the sunlit wash of his presence in your home, your bed, your arms?

Forward, forward, you must go further. Push yourself to your limits, as he always does.

The landscape is resolving into harsher shapes around you. Details creep along the edges of your vision, sinuous. There are floorboards beneath your spectral feet. You feel no sensation, but you know that the sun has hardened and bleached them with the same reverence it bestows to the bones of unknowable animals in a flat expanse of desert.

You are viewing Kento through a window, a stark rectangle in the wooden wall, framed in splinters. He is not moving, out there in that dry, dry field, and you wonder how he can bear the heat of that gigantic sun.

A terrible thought strikes you.

What if he is already gone? What if the skin has already been burned from his flesh? What if he cannot move as his muscles shrivel and scorch under that stupendous heat? What if he cannot turn to you, one final time, because he wants to spare you the sight of bone protruding from the remains of charred tissue?

No. No. You cannot let it be. You cannot watch him -

Tangible. Tangible is what you have become, through sheer force of will. You weave your own body into existence, because you must save him, you must reach him.

Kento hasn't moved, but the sun seems closer. It is closer. You have to do something. You have to act, and your helplessness will be no excuse when he is beyond your reach and that of everyone else he knows and cares for -

Your arm, or some half-formed semblance of it, plunges through the window. Something shatters. Sensation floods your mind, synapses flaring to life, their signals propelled with all the reckless fury of a charge on foot against cannon-fire.

It burns, it burns, it is pain, it is beyond anything you have ever endured, but endure it you will, because -

The answer comes to you, spoken somewhere in still-water depths that no sun can reach.

You will burn for him. You will swallow this agony for him. You will partake of this pain until you grow and grow and spread your incorporeal body across the horizon, too large for this flimsy room to contain. You will grow larger than the sun, even, swallowing all of his pain, even beyond the limits of any threshold you have known, because you -

Air enters your lungs in a frigid rush, and you sit up, chest heaving. Your thin nightdress stretches uncomfortably across your skin, and something trickles from your brow down across your eyelid. It stings, blurring your vision. You blink, once, twice.

Someone is calling your name.

There is a hand on your back, firm and grounding. Fingers sweep along your brow, removing the moisture that has collected there.

Kento.

You can barely summon the strength needed to turn and look at him.

There he is.

No scorched flesh, no red, cavernous eye sockets, the gleaming, white sanctuary of his ribs still encased in clean, undamaged tissue.

In the darkness of your bedroom, you can't make out the finer details. No otherworldly sunlight casts his features in stark lines on living canvas.

In spite of this fact, you know that there is a furrow carved in his brow. Even without touching him, you can feel tension radiate from muscles that are always ready to react. Those earnest eyes, always reflecting the dappled shade of a forest in the springtime, taking you in with a scrutiny that would produce the inevitable conclusion.

He doesn't ask you outright; he doesn't need to.

Instead, a hush descends over your senses as his arms come up and draw you close, so close, disregarding the sweat that still dampens your clothes.

Oh, to be wrapped in this steady rhythm forever, to listen to the pulse of the resilient muscle beneath the cellular fabric that forms this man you love above all others. How could your mind still creep back to that hellish place when this was laid out before you, the banquet of his all-encompassing embrace?

No fear can touch you here. No enemy can lay siege to him in this place, protected by the irrational and incontestable vow of sanctity that you have imposed on these four walls.

"Do you want to tell me what that was about?"

His voice stirs gently though your hair, each word laced with infinite tenderness. It almost breaks your resolve to retain control of yourself.

"I had a dream that you ... were far away."

His grip across your shoulder tightens. Kento has seen enough death and despair in the line of duty to fill in the shadowed spaces of that distant landscape himself.

You continue, voice loud in the hush of this room, the night so very, very still. Kento's heartbeat is the exception. It pounds with rebellious vitality under your palm.

"I had a dream that you were standing in a wide, open field. And that there was a giant ... sun in the sky. And it was about to burn everything up, including you. And me."

There is a heavy pause in which the tick of the clock on the nightstand strikes each second with a steel-clad fist.

When he does eventually speak, Kento's voice is low, his words unhurried, as if the reassurance he offers will embed itself in the eternal strata of his world and yours.

"And was I facing you, in this dream? Was I close to you?"

"No. You were ... turned towards the sun."

"Hm. Then that dream means nothing."

"Tell me why."

"If what you dreamed about really happened, and I was in a place you couldn't reach, then I would make sure that I would only ever think of you. If the man in your dream couldn't face you, then he wasn't me. It's that simple."

You can't help the way your lips curve secretly, hidden against the firm heat of his chest.

"Just a dream, then?"

"Hardly worth a single thought."

"Then it was a strange one. Especially that sun."

His head turns, lips pressed lightly against your forehead.

"A brave sun."

"Brave?"

"To try and outdo you."

[itsmemuffy]

I can make you feel better...

And you know you will (chapter 2)

Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, obsessive and touched starved Logan, major honeymoon phase, male masturbation, panty stealing, oral (m! receiving), breast worship, fingering, cum eating/swapping, angst, light blood + violence, mentions of Charles, Scott, Jean, Ororo and Peter (Collosus)

Chapter One Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.

Chapter Two Summary: Logan navigates his needs as your relationship blossoms. He weighs his insecurities against his feelings for the woman he loves. Once everything is said and done, he finally gives in. Smut under last divider.

Author's note: Credit where credit is due, this post by @avocado-writing inspired the first part of this chapter. Thank you to all the wonderful writers in this fandom ;*

Logan played the memory of your lips against his over so many times in his head as he was falling asleep that by the time he woke up, he thought it must of been a dream. The morning sun that crept through the curtains of his room assisted him in coming to his senses. He squinted as he finally opened his eyes, light beaming into his retinas. That wasn't a dream. It was all for real this time...

He stumbled down the dim hallway in his usual morning stupor. Routine the same as always, except for one factor. You were gone. Your scent lingered faintly in the hall from when you left to catch your flight before the sun even had a chance to rise above the landscape.

Logan's brain didn't have time to catch up with his body before his feet stopped himself in his own tracks in front of your bedroom door. Snapshots of you standing before him, wrapping yourself around his body flooded his memory. The way you held onto him in that moment was as sweet as candy, but your touch heated him like pure capsaicin.

As the scene replayed in his mind, that same throbbing heat overcame his body, starting at his groin until it reached the tip of his ears. Logan glanced to his left. And then his right. Good, he thought. No one was around to bear witness to what he was about to do. He tested his luck when he wrapped his hand around the doorknob. Holy shit, it's unlocked.

Your door was swiftly opened and then shut behind him with a quick squeak that sounded out into the hall. It was a noise no one would bat an eye at upon hearing, but Logan was treating this as serious as a diamond heist. Sometimes he forgets that not every mutant's senses are as sharp as his.

He decided against turning the light on as not to raise suspicion. Instead, he let the dull lines of blue light from the closed window shades guide his endeavor. The space was tidy and organized, just as Logan expected.

He had only been in your room once before now. You had left notes on your bedroom desk on students whose mutations required them specific nutritional needs. Charles had requested them in a meeting that Logan also attended. Of course, he was the first to volunteer to grab them for you.

He had ample opportunity then to do what he was doing in the current moment- hunting for pieces of you in your own private space. As much as he was tempted to do so, he couldn't bring himself to keep his sweet girl waiting. He melted at your praise when he promptly delivered your papers.

He glanced around your room. Logan didn't know exactly what he was looking for. Something- anything that could give him his fix. It was your own fault, after all. You just had to spur him on last night.

First and foremost, he was an animal that never gave much practice to supressing his more perverse compulsions. To Logan, it was just simple biology. That was the excuse he gave himself when he made a beeline straight to your dresser. He knew what he was looking for now.

He quietly opened each and every drawer, carefully sifting through your clothes making sure they were put back exactly where he found them. Some articles evoked pleasant memories of the times you have worn them- others he had yet to see on you. Logan dreamed of the day you would get all dressed up just for him, wearing things no other man has ever seen you in.

When he got to the second to last drawer, Logan hit the jackpot. Inside, your bras and panties were lined up in tidy little rows. He held up multiple pairs, envisioning the way the fabric would wrap snugly around your curves. A pink, silky thong adorned with little ribbons is what he settled on as his favorite. He put them all back except for that specific pair.

A stack of polaroid photos that lay on your dresser piqued Logan's interest next. He snatched them up and made himself comfortable on the divit on the far side of your bed. It wasn't lost on him how you appeared to sleep on a singular side in favor of the middle of the mattress. Maybe you were saving room for someone to lay down beside you at night. Maybe you needed him as much as he needed you.

He shamelessly took a moment to rub his face into the pillow. The scent of you mimicking the sensation he felt when he nuzzled himself into your hair the night previous. Your shampoo, your lotion, your perfume, your sweat. It all came together to create a sensation he could never get from anyone else.

It was maddening- all too much and never enough at the same time. His cup could never be full of you, yet it overflowed in crashing waves. God forbid you found out about his little expedition into your bedroom, but he was a desperate man. Logan lay on his back and focused his attention to the pictures he held.

The photo on top of the stack captured the common area of the mansion, adorned in white and gold with "New Year's Eve" hanging from the ceiling in glittering letters that reflected the flash of the camera. It was from the year before he had arrived at the mansion. He shuffled that one to the back of the pile.

The second one was of you, Jean, and Ororo posing with champagne glasses in hand. All of you were in your best holiday dresses. Logan's eyes immediately caught on your exposed thighs, semi-transparent tights spread taught over the ample flesh. Now we're getting somewhere...

He flipped through a few more; photos of the catering, Jean and Scott dancing, and the clock striking midnight. None of them interested Logan.

The next photo in the stack displayed a shining bald head taken from above. It was Charles with a bright lipstick print on top his scalp. Logan immediately recognized your signature shade. This one was labeled underneath as "New Year's Kiss."

He couldn't supress the laughter coming up from deep within his chest as he pictured you tipsy off the champagne, planting a big 'ol smooch onto the unsuspecting professor. Logan had half a mind to be jealous, but he was convinced he'd be the one you would welcome into the next year- this time on the lips.

Logan's breath caught in his throat when he saw what the next picture was of. You were standing in front of your bathroom mirror, leaning forward slightly over the sink with your chest pushed out. The straps of your dress had slipped down your shoulders, exposing your breasts.

Immediately, he felt his pants tighten. Logan already craved your body like a starved beast and seeing your perfect tits left him in awe. They were better than he could of ever imagined, and he imagined them a lot. The days you chose to wear your tight little sweaters were like fucking Chistmas to him.

As he notices your face was flush from the alcohol, he fantasizes about how that night must of went. His sweet, responible girl maybe had one too many to drink. You probably saw yourself all dolled up in the mirror when you stumbled into the bathroom, wishing you had someone like Logan there to worship your pretty tits. What else were you to do but reach for your camera, not to waste this precious moment?

His cock was expanding at such a rate he was all but bursting out of the denim. It was too late to turn back now. Logan hurriedly unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans to shimmy them down to his knees. He took a second to palm his hard buldge through his boxers. All of the time he spent memorizing your tender touch once again came to good use.

Enough playing around, he thought to himself, time to get to business.

Logan fished his fully erect cock out of his boxers in one swift motion. It was already throbbing. He took a single finger to spread clear beads of precum around the head until the swollen, sensitive flesh was sticky and shining in his own arousal. In his mind's eye, Logan was imagining you lapping at the tip of his dick like the needy little thing he knew he would be able to turn you into.

He placed the stack of photos down next to him, keeping his favorite on top, and grabbed your panties. With one hand steadily stroking up and down his entire length, the other held up the silky pair to his face. Logan would of preferred them worn and marked with your scent- but a man in his position has to take what he can get.

His tongue ran stripes up and down the crotch of your panties, now envisioning you sitting on his face with your juices soaking through the material. In reality, they were just coated in his saliva. He wanted to hold you tight and make you squeeze his head between your thighs like a vice. If he could just taste you, Logan may finally be able to die and reach heaven. He chokes out a desperate groan into the fabric, breathing heavy and shallow.

Logan was getting close, rhythmic schlick-ing noises echoing off the four walls. There was no way his fist would be able to squeeze around him like you would, but he still tried anyway. He wrapped your thong around the base of his cock, the delicate fabric brushing against his full balls with every stroke.

The final scene he conjured up that drove him over the edge was you bouncing on top of him. Logan pictured you all sweaty and panting as you chase your high. Your legs would shake against him with exhaustion. The way his cock would be nudged so far deep inside would be too intense for you to hold any of your pathetic little noises back. He'd leave bruises in the shape of his palm on your ass as you rode him. Just to make sure you were unmistakably his. Nobody else's.

He bit his knuckle to stifle the guttural sounds of him reaching his peak. All of Logan's red hot blood had rushed to his cock, length pulsating in syncopation with his heartbeat. His breathing stopped completely as he spurted thick, white ropes into his own hand. What a waste he wasn't dispositing his cum into your warm mouth. He knows his good girl wouldn't waste a drop.

Logan has touched himself to the thought of you before. Many times, in fact. But this time, deep in your very own bed, he reached heights he hasn't felt in god knows how long. His chest and thighs were slicked with sweat and his breathing remained heavy long after his initial release. When he finally gets to make you his, he questions if he'd be able to stop himself from completely ravaging your body. Would his sweet girl be able to handle all that he's ready to give you?

He cleaned up himself with your goddamn adorable little thong, fabric barely able to hold all of his spend. After his slow return back to reality, Logan realizes his teammates might start wondering where he is. Not that it's any of their damn business. I go where I please.

It could be bad news if they start searching for him, however. Him and Scott were due to depart on some sort of mission. The briefing that had been schedueled beforehand was coming up in less than twenty minutes. Alright, alright. Time to get a move on.

Logan wrapped your panties in a tissue from your nightstand and tucked them away in his pocket- making a mental note to hide them somewhere safe in his own room before he departed. He considered taking that photo with him, too. Ultimately, he ruled it too risky. But not before taking one last look, committing every detail to memory.

Charles has suspected there to be a shadow organization tasked with framing mutants for crimes they didn't commit to accelerate anti-mutant sentiment. He had split up the X-Men to visit scenes of the alleged crimes to hopefully figure out who could be behind this. Every team came back empty handed.

Time was moving painfully slow for Logan while you were away. The mission he had gone on with Scott ended up being a total waste of time. He had to endure an entire day working alongside his favorite teammate, with no one to mitigate between them, and it was all for nothing.

To top everything off, one of the students started a fire trying to toast a pop-tart in their room. Unable to control his ability, he instead let out a huge explosion that incinerated a good portion of the east wing. Charles almost had an aneurysm when he got an estimate on the renovation costs.

It took hours to clean out the debris, painstaking and tedious work for even the mighty Wolverine. Him, Scott and Peter were working at it even as the biting cold came with the nightfall. Needless to say, Logan was having a miserable weekend.

He needed a victory- some worthless piece of shit to sink his claws into. Logan was growing extremely restless. Good thing the danger room remained untouched in the accident. Might was well blow off some steam...

Logan trained well into the night, the morning you would arrive back fast approaching with the coming dawn. He lost himself tearing through fabricated enemies. So high on his own adrenaline, all the pain he should of felt went ignored. His knuckles were tingling and numb by the time he collapsed to the ground, heaving.

When he finally caught his breath and every wound stitched itself back together, he ended the session. He actually did feel better now- emotionally, anyway.

Logan stomped through the halls, mind completely vacant. His entire body gleamed with sweat, except for dull patches of dried blood scattered across his torso. The underside of his eyes were heavy with bags. If someone were to ask him at what point in there he had lost his shirt, he wouldn't of been able tell them.

"Jesus Christ," a voice he had dearly been missing called out from behind him. "You went ahead and dragged yourself through hell again, didn't you?"

All he could do was grunt as he turned on his heels to see you, eagerly prancing toward him with suitcases in stride. He took a second to take you all in. You were dressed in your comfiest of clothes, hair and makeup slightly dishelveled from your plane ride. Logan thought you looked oh so warm and inviting. He wanted to scoop you up and carry you around like his own personal teddy bear.

As jarring as he appeared before you, it wasn't a sight you've never seen before. You had to learn early on to let him do what he needed to do- and there was no use in wasting your breath to scold him for pushing himself past limits. In this moment, you were just happy to see his face.

"C'mere, big guy," you stepped forward and enveloped him into your arms, not caring if Logan was getting your sweatshirt dirty.

As much as you had fun spending your days off with some of your old friends, you couldn't help from thinking about him the entire time. You weren't quite sure where the two of you stood now in terms of your relationship. All you knew is that you both benefited from having eachother close.

Logan's nose flared up at the scent of dozens of strangers on you. The unfamiliar sensation made his lips curl up in a snarl. He wrapped his arm around your waist tight, lifting you a foot off the ground.

"Missed ya, doll," he nuzzled his beard up and down your neck and chest, marking your body with a scent more suitable for you. You giggled uncontrollably as the hairs tickled your flesh. "Hope you had a better past few days than I just did."

"Yeah, I heard..." You held on to the back of Logan's head as he put you back down, fingernails gently grazing his sweaty scalp, "I'm gone for one weekend and this place falls apart, huh?"

"Damn right, it did," he chuckled darkly, breath hot against your earlobe.

"I'm just glad no one was hurt," you watched him as he broke the embrace to scoop up your luggage, "that's more than we can hope for some of these days."

The two of you made your way down to the rooms. At your doorway, you thanked Logan for carrying your bags with a kiss on the cheek. He adored how the feel of your lips was already becoming routine.

"So, do you want to uh..," Oh god, you had no idea how to do this. You were so comfortable with eachother as friends but now that he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole, it was like learning how to speak again. Logan would steal glances like this since the day he first laid eyes on you, but now he didn't have much of a reason to hide it anymore. It definetly did not help that the rise and fall of his bare chest with each breath was so fucking mesmerizing. "You want to maybe, um, see what I brought back from my trip?"

The way Logan towered over you, boxing you in against the doorframe and burning holes into your body with his gaze, was borderline criminal. "Let me go ahead and jump in the shower then you can show me, sweetheart. I want to hear all about your little vacation," his voiced remained low, bordering on a whisper. "I'll meet you back here when I'm done, okay?"

He gave you a quick peck on the lips before he split off into his own bedroom. Logan knew if he gave you anything more, he wouldn't be able to help from shoving his entire tongue in your mouth. All in good time, he reminded himself. There was no need to rush when things were going so well between you. You plopped down on your bed and tried not to think about the man soaping up his body just a few doors down.

Steaming hot blasts of water pounded away at Logan's aching muscles, reminding him how just exhausted he truly was. Despite the lethargy that was dragging him down, he was determined to push through it just to spend more time with you. It felt to him like he hadn't seen you in ages.

Logan patted himself dry as he stared into the mirror. Now that you were back he pondered all the ways this relationship could go. He ached to be close to you in every way possible. As much and he felt you belonged alongside him, there was still an apprehension nagging him in the back of his mind.

After all, you haven't even see the full aspects of his mutation. He's never protracted his claws around you- never had to, thankfully. And you've only witnessed him recover from very minor injuries. Would your soft, sweet self still feel the same way about him if you saw him bloody and gored, metal bones protruding?

You've never shown signs of being scared or wary of him besides basic shyness. Maybe you would of if you'd seen early on what he can really do. Logan wanted to squeeze you tight and never let go, but could he even trust himself to sleep through the night with you beside him? The rips and tears in his sheets told him, no, you can't.

He threw on a fresh pair of sweats and a t-shirt. With the flick of a lighter, he lit up a cigar to calm his nerves. After running his fingers through his hair to get it juuust right, he headed back to your room like he promised.

Your suitcases were open on the bed as you sat patiently at end with your hands in your lap. Was inviting him back into your bedroom a bad decision? Something in you yearned for Logan to take the lead and bring you to all those places that other men didn't even know existed within you. On the other hand, you weren't sure if you'd be ready to take him on in that way. At least not yet, anyway.

Your door opened and you immediately perked up. "You mind if I..." Logan waved the burning cigar in his hand before he entered the room. This may have been the first time in his life he had asked someone for permission to smoke. He cringed at himself for already being so whipped.

"As long as you don't ash anywhere but the tray." You had an old glass piece on your nightstand you repurposed into a dish for your jewelry. Rings rattled as you dumped them out and slid them out of the way. Logan turned his face to the side, hoping you wouldn't catch the small grin lifting his cheeks. It was the little actions that showed him how ready you were to make room for him in your life. Even as friends, you would always make the extra effort to go out of your way for him. God, what he wouldn't do for you in return.

He passed your dresser on his way to you and noticed the stack of photos as he felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach. Nestled there was something between guilt and the sick satisfaction that you were none the wiser about the parts of you he's now seen. The image of you topless in the bathroom mirror crept into his mind again and if Logan wasn't so damn exhausted, he would of gotten rock solid just thinking about it. Your panties were still hidden in the confines of his own room. He had already jerked off into the pair several times.

The bed dipped as his weight brought the mattress down, making your bags slide a bit towards him. He laid down on his side, propping himself up slightly on his elbow. "I'm all ears, baby. Tell me what my girl's been up to." Logan didn't miss how your posture shifted when he called you his.

He listened attentively to your soothing voice as you told him about the stores you visited and the all things you could only find in your hometown and he vented to you about his shitty weekend. You had a way of melting away the worries and the doubts from his mind without even trying.

Sleep crept it's way up his broad form until Logan fell unconscious. His cigar slowly billowed out in the tray. If it was a deliberate decision, he would of chosen to stay awake until he got back to his own room. You babbled on for a bit longer as you unpacked. After a minute or two without an affirmative yeah? or is that so? did you notice he was totally conked out.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him peacefully asleep, a low rumble sounding from his chest. He was obviously snoring, but the noise was more akin to that of a big purring kitten. It turned your heart to warm jelly seeing him this content.

You crawled on your hands and knees up the bed, careful not to wake him. At this point, you knew more than anyone else how falling and staying asleep was an active battle for Logan. You couldn't help from selfishly pressing a feathery-soft kiss to his forehead, even if there was a small chance the gesture would stir him to consciousness.

Your bodies faced eachother when you also succumbed to your own exhaustion- your travels hit your body harder than you had realized. Somewhere in your slumber, you had snaked your legs around his. Likewise, Logan instinctively reached out to hold your body against him with a heavy bicep.

A few hours later with noon fast approaching, a steady barrage of knocks at the door alerted Logan out his sleep. He glanced over to you, not able to recall when he had drifted off. Your limbs were still locked with eachother's as your slowed heartbeat and soft breath fanning against his arm almost lulled him back into his dream of you.

A voice from beyond the room shook him out of it. "Wakey wakey, I know you're in there." It was Scott. "I let you sleep in long enough. The professor needs you in his office asap."

Still in a daze, Logan completely forgot whose room he had just woken up in. He had not even considered that Scott could be talking to you. "Just fuck off and give me five more minutes, Summers," Logan grumbled.

Scott stood behind the door stunned, a scandalous smirk creeping up his face. Finally, some development between you and Logan- and was the visored mutant ever smug to be the one to make this discovery. He couldn't wait to tell everybody how he caught the big, bad Wolverine sneaking a nap in with the woman he has been pathetically crushing on for ages.

"Logan!?" Scott exclaimed incredulously, not even trying to supress the laughing fit he was breaking into. "Do me a favor, will you? Make sure the lady makes it to Charles in once piece. No time for funny business, you hear me?"

Logan would make him pay later on for mocking him, but to Scott it was sooo worth it. As he turned his attention back to you in bed, he noticed a dried streak of drool trailing from the corner of your mouth. You couldn't help it- his presence next to you made you feel safe and that lent itself to a very deep slumber. He wet his thumb between his lips before wiping it away from your face.

"Sweetheart, get up," Logan gently but firmly coaxed you out of your slumber with a hand tapping your shoulder.

"Mnnn... whaaat?" You mumbled as you swatted his hand away. "C'mon, let's go back to sleep..." You reached to pull him in, but he was all too sturdy in his stance. He was this close to saying fuck it and giving in to you. Hopefully you would forgive him for denying your whims this time.

"No, you come on. The big boss says he needs you in his office," his response illicited a long, disapproving groan from you. "Hey, hey, none of that," Logan tsked. "Not my fault my girl is so important."

My girl. Those words sure had a way of making you feel energized. You reluctantly sprung up from the bed and headed straight to the bathroom to clean yourself up a bit. He got up and followed close behind you, watching you wash your face and thinking about how that was the best sleep he had gotten in ages- even if it was only a short nap. Maybe sleeping next to you every night wasn't as crazy a dream as he thought.

You sat opposite of Professor Xavier at his desk, old leather of the seat sticking to your legs. The office was bright with natural light, fresh air circulating in through an open window. Charles was giving you a run down on everything he needed done this week. Letters to send out, field trips to scheduele, and an obscene amount of phone calls to make.

"We need to get those repairs done before the weather does irreperable damage to the insulation. Patching the roof is our top priority, call this number first." He handed you a slip full of contact information.

"Now that you're all caught up on current affairs, is there any matters you'd like to bring to my attention, my dear?" The professor looked you dead in the eyes in a way that you hated. You could never let your guard down around a telepath.

"You know me, Charles. Same old, same old. Never anything too exiting," a nervous exhale punctuated your words.

"What about Logan?"

Goddammit, Charles. You also couldn't stand how absolutely nosy the man could be sometimes. He was like a father awkwardly trying to gossip with his children, if only out of a desire to feel more included in their lives. It was irritating as it was endearing.

"What about Logan?" The way his name rolled off your tongue was enough to quicken your pulse. When did his name become the most beautiful sounding word? Everything was for Logan. Logan. Logan. Logan. "He's my best friend. We've just gotten close over the time he's been here, you know?"

"Fine. Whatever you say, my dear." With a dismissive wave of his hand, Charles gave up. You both had far too much to do for him to waste time wearing you down. He already saw everything he needed to see- sitting front row in the theater of your mind. The lecture he just gave to the students on ethics in telepathy be damned.

"Sorry, Charlie. You can't be the only man in my life forever."

"Yes, I know, I know." You could see the corner of his mouth curl upwards. It was nice to see a smile on the professor's face despite the stress he's been under recently.

He left you alone in his office to make your calls. The majority of the next few hours mostly consisted of hold music and the impatient tapping of your pen against the desk. You took on meaningless tasks like tidying up Charles' already spotless office as you silently prayed for a savior to your boredom.

Your prayers must of somehow been heard. As soon as your brain started to leak out of your ears from the sheer lack of stimulation, a larger than life presence made his way through the door.

"Thought you could get away with skipping breakfast, huh?" Logan sauntered his way into the open room, carrying something in his hand. "And skipping lunch, for that matter," he stated as he set down a plate full of food in front of you.

On the plate sat what was perhaps the saddest looking sandwich you had ever seen in your life- toppings slapped haphazardly between two slices of bread with condiments dripping down the sides. Still, it was cut vertically in half with chips filling the free space of the dish. You could tell he earnestly attempted to make it into something special.

"Tried to do it up as nice as you always make 'em for me..." Logan trailed off as he gazed down at the pathetic display. "Listen, at least it tastes good. I made sure a'that," he reached down to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Only now did you notice the bite taken out of the corner.

You brought your hand up to shyly cover the grin creeping up your face. "Looks delicious, Logan. Thank you," you giggled.

"What's baldy got you doing now? Playin' secretary?" Logan's focus turned to your legs that were swaying to the tempo of elevator jazz playing from the phone's fuzzy speaker. He watched intently as each subtle movement shifted the hem of your skirt.

"Basically. Not the most exiting but it needs to get done all the same." You took a mouthful of the sandwich and he was right- it was pretty damn good. If not a bit messy.

Small smudges of mustard collected at the corner of your lips, "No napkins?" Logan shook his head in response. You collected the condiment with your thumb, bringing it up to your mouth to clean off your finger. "Did I get it all?"

"Let me look at ya," he lifted your chin and turned your face, using this as an excuse to admire each side. From the slope of your nose to the angle of your eyes- every feature was a work of art to him. "Missed a spot." Logan's towering form bent down to be eye level with you sitting. Before you could realize what was happening, you felt his warm tongue lap at the smear on your cheek.

You didn't even know how to react. Logan was a roaring fire- in every aspect. Not only in terms of body temperature, but in his rage and how he burned hot for you. Crackling flames inside him drove his every decision. Your affection only provided more kindling. To put it simply, he was not a subtle lover.

He snuck in a few extra licks than were necessary and patted the excess drool away with his sleeve. "You're disgusting," you scolded him light-heartedly.

"Tell me you don't love it." Logan shifted to his knees to stay face to face with you. He captured your lips in a kiss, toying with locks of your hair while he put his devotion on display.

You could tell he was using every ounce of restraint he had. It was sickly sweet the way your mouths met again and again- each kiss never going beyond surface level. A fog was rolling in on the both of you. Dense in the air was the feeling of longing for more. These desires were as desperate as they were aimless. The two of you would never truly be able to get enough of eachother.

Your hands found themselves tenderly smoothing over the hair on his face. At this point, you knew him all too well. He was waiting for you to demonstrate to him how far you were willing to go. Logan felt the tip of your tongue swipe his bottom lip and the grunt this illicited from him sent a rush to your core.

He greeted your tongue with his and next thing you knew, your mouths were inseparable- locked together with no intentions of coming up for air anytime soon. Logan's movements still remained steady and deliberate. He was hedonistic in how he savored every sensation. His hands moved lower to knead at the dip in your hips to steady himself. Yours remained on his face to keep him locked in this embrace.

The two of you could of stayed like this forever, wetting eachother's appetite as you both held on for dear life. Forever came to an end when the hold music cut out abruptly- "Sorry for the wait, m'am. How may we help you?"

That night the students were still camped out in the common area whilst the repairs on their rooms were in progress. They made themselves comfortable on couches and in sleeping bags. It wasn't an ideal situation, but you tried to make it fun for them. You prepared popcorn and let them watch a few movies past their typical bedtime.

After the kids were all settled in for the evening, you joined everyone else in the kitchen. The soft buzzing of activity put you at ease. Within the room, Scott and Logan were complaining to one another- a cornerstone of their relationship.

"I don't understand why Charles couldn't just let us fix up the place ourselves like we aren't more than capable," Scott whined. He stood behind where Jean was sitting, leaning on the back of her chair.

"I reckon he doesn't think we're fit for the job," Logan left his position against the wall when he was greeted with your presence. Everyone's eyes were on him as he gravitated towards you.

"You know there are codes and regulations for stuff like that, right?"Jean remarked through a mouthful of pasta. "Stick to fixing sinks and patching up walls and leave the rest to the professionals."

He was standing right next to you now, hand at the small of your back while the conversation continued, "I'm telling ya, they didn't look very professional to me."

Logan took it upon himself to investigate the workers from the roofing company. They had arrived earlier to assess the damage. It didn't sit right with him how late they came and at such short notice. He took note of their attire- neat work pants and button ups that appeared to have never seen a day of hard labor in their life. The men were also absent of the distinct musk that handing tiles and other construction materials gave off. No traces of dust or dirt, the only thing Logan's nose detected was the unremarkable scent of a sterile office space.

"If they end up doing an inadequate job, you and Scott owe us a big, fat I told you so," Ororo chimed in from in front of the fridge. "Until then, the two of you can hush."

Logan's brows lifted and he rolled his eyes. It was hard to argue with a literal goddess. The hand at your back snaked its way to your hip, pulling you closer. He needed you close and he didn't care who knew. In fact, he preferred it that way. There would be no question of who he belonged to, because no one would dare mess with the woman who had his heart.

Knowing looks were cast in your direction from every corner of the kitchen. Everybody in the mansion has always regarded you with respect, even if you had a tendency to fade into the background. Frankly, you were not used to this kind of extra attention.

You pretended not to notice but Logan could tell it was bothering you. "Uh oh, I guess they know I'm sweet on ya, doll," he muttered to only you before planting a kiss to the top of your head, guiding your focus away from the prying eyes and back to him. "I'm going out for a smoke, c'mon."

Logan kept his arm around your waist as he escorted you through the mansion. You weren't sure where he was taking you, but you didn't care. As long as you were with him, all other details were not of concern.

The two of you turned a corner and he stalled, catching you from tripping over your interrupted step. An unfamiliar silhouette stood at the end of the hall, casting a long shadow against the dark wooden floor. Logan's body tensed up and all his senses were on alert. He recognized that sterile scent from earlier.

"Stay here," Logan commanded as he grabbed and secured you against a nook in the hallway. His touch was rougher than what was typical for when he handled you. You could feel the urgency in his grasp.

You froze in place and watched as he made his way towards the stranger. Logan took an intimidating stance, arms hunched out and prepared to make a move at a moment's notice. "Any reason you're still here? Why don't you head home, bub?"

The other man stayed silent in response. At this point, you and Logan both knew something was not right. He stood a few feet away from the stranger while waiting for provocation to retaliate.

The dim light caught between Logan's knuckles. Shining appendages gradually expanded from his fist with a sound unlike anything you have ever heard before- a combination of flesh tearing and a metallic shling that made you a bit queasy. He was preparing to strike.

You knew what they were. It was no secret to you what Logan was equipped with. His fellow X-Men would tell you wild stories about the vicious Wolverine that fought alongside them on missions, describing someone completely different from the man that you've come to know.

After what felt like an eternity but in actuality couldn't have been more than a few seconds, the man made his move. He grabbed something at his side. Everything was happening far too fast for you to catch what it was.

A large cracking noise reverberated off the walls as Logan was struck on the shoulder. You couldn't tell if the sound was the weapon breaking or him. He toppled over slightly, swinging his sharp claws at the stranger's legs with a roar. A twisted symphony of growls, grunts and shredding rung through your ears.

Before you knew it, the stranger slumped to the floor with a thud. The man wasn't dead, the exasperated breaths that he was squeezing out of his lungs made that much clear. Logan wasn't going to let him take another step towards everything that he cared for.

A group of speeding footsteps could be heard behind you as they made their way onto the scene. Jean, Scott, and Ororo must of heard the commotion. Still high off his own adrenaline, Logan turned to face you and his teammates. You could barely make out the dark fluid dripping from his claws and onto the floorboards. The air smelled like a roll of newly-minted pennies.

His eyes caught on your face. He had on an expression that you have never seen before. Wide-eyed and crazed, with a hint of something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Was it rage, remorse, or maybe even shame? Arms now limp at his side, Logan's slowly slid his claws back into himself.

You now understood the paralyzing fear his enemies must have felt when they faced him in combat. More importantly, you understood that he would preserve the safety of those around him without hesitation. All you could do was stand and stare, half expecting him to be pulled towards you like an opposite magnet similar to how he did earlier- but he didn't.

No one asked any questions. They all had a mutual understanding of what was to be done next and they made quick work of that. Jean took the man to the infirmary to treat his injuries and to be questioned later on. Ororo and Scott patrolled the mansion to see if the aggressor was alone, securing every enterence around perimeter. Now it was just you and Logan alone together again.

The gap was bridged between the two of you when you cautiously stepped towards him. The closer you got, the harder it was for him to maintain eye contact with you. Logan wanted to avoid this moment for as long as possible and he deluded himself into thinking he may of been able to forever.

You stood before him, granting him the space to recoup from what just happened. He was still stiff in posture.

"Well, we shouldn't just stand here," you were desperate to break up this painfully strained moment. "Those kids are probably scared, they don't know what's going on."

Logan followed close behind you, still on alert. To your surprise, the students were sound asleep in the common area. The movie still playing in the background must have drowned out the commotion down the hall. You sat on the last remaining couch that didn't have someone passed out on it and patting the space beside you. "Let's stay just here while we wait to hear back from everyone else."

Good idea, he thought. If anyone with nefarious intentions got to you or the children while he was absent, Logan would never forgive himself. Might as well make himself comfortable because he was not planning on getting a lick of sleep tonight. He sat down next to you, keeping a noticeable distance.

You thought of something you could do or say to put his mind at ease. Just when you thought you were starting to tear down his walls, he puts up another barrier. It was frustrating. All you wanted was to know what he was thinking.

"I don't really know what else to say but... thank you, Logan." You really meant it. No one was hurt because of him. The way he was quick to act with no regard for himself was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

"Don't mention it," he muttered shortly. Logan cut himself off before he could assure you with the usual affectionate pet name. You noticed this, and it made your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

"Are you... hurt?" You knew he was okay, even if he felt the pain in the moment like anybody else would. "You took quite a blow back there."

"M'fine." He couldn't even look at you. You were getting nowhere.

"Whatever it is, just know that I love you, Lo." He was now viewing you from his peripheral, not even turning his head. You felt your voice start to waver, "All of you, every part. Don't worry about saying it back. I just need you to know that."

"Love ya, too. Not another word now, sweetheart, I mean it." Logan pulled you into him and you wrapped yourself around his side. You obeyed his request even if there was so much more you both could say.

You dozed off on his shoulder as he stayed awake through the night, ruminating on his conflicting feelings. It amazed him how even after you've seen the animal- no, the monster he saw himself as, you still felt secure in his presence.

Tonight he gave you a piece of himself he never intended to give, and you cradled that piece in your hands with a tenderness no one has ever granted him. His cheeks became damp with sparse tears as he kept his eyes darting between every point of entry. Under this roof, he was loved. He was needed. Anyone threatening his home better be ready to beg for mercy.

Charles assigned everyone busywork while he formulated his next move. He suspects that the X-Men were close to getting to the bottom of what was going on with the shadow organization, and perhaps that's why the mansion was targeted. Logan was more than happy to distract himself by putting his calloused hands to good use. In the end, him and Scott got what they wanted. They both worked from the inside while Ororo flew between sections of the busted roof.

You assisted them any way that you could, mostly by running supplies back and fourth. The mansion was filled with chatter about the night previous, but no one would have many answers until Jean finished questioning the intruder.

By nightfall, building materials had run out and there was nothing left to do until the stores opened the next day. A sizable portion had gotten done, but there was still plenty of work ahead.

After dusting himself off, Logan pulled you to the side. "Meet me in my room in a bit, yeah?" he rasped in a way that put you on edge. The two of you hadn't exchanged many words that day. The most you were able to get from him were single-word replies paired with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Are we going to talk, then?" You anxiously rubbed the tip of his elbow as you spoke.

"Talk?"

You bit your lip. Maybe now wasn't the best time to push him out of his comfort zone. "I care about you, Logan. I'd like to know what's on your mind sometimes."

"Hmm..." he leaned into you, close enough you could feel every exhale of each breath he took. "What if I showed ya instead of saying it with words? How's that, darlin'?"

A flutter was felt in the depths of your core as you realized what he might have in mind. "Yeah, I'd like that."

With a kiss that was much too quick, the two of you parted. You checked in with Charles like you always did before you retired for the night. After confirming he didn't need anything from you, it was time to make your way back towards Logan.

You approached his door and for a second, you hesistated. If Logan always made you feel safe when you were around him, why were you so damn nervous? There was so much pent up energy inside you that you were almost afraid to release. You felt for him far too much and you didn't want to mess this up.

The metal of the doorknob was cold in your hands as you turned it. Inside the room, Logan sat in a chair in the far corner in the low light of a desk lamp. He was leaning back with his legs spread apart.

"C'mere, baby," he set down his glass of whisky on the side table and gestured you towards him with his pointer finger. "Been hard at work all day. All I want is my sweet girl."

Logan never took his eyes off you as you made your way toward him. You felt his gaze shift up and down your body. When you stood before him, he looked up at your face again and patted his lap.

You sat down with your legs splayed across his own. He kept you in place on top of him with an arm around your waist while his fingers absent-mindedly stroked your upper thigh. All that was on his mind was how perfectly you fit against him. This is what he wanted- to clear his thoughts. You were the only person who had the power to do that for him.

"Wanna know what's really been on my mind, huh?" His words came out rough and strained. Before you had showed up, Logan was already getting himself worked up. He was savoring the sweet silence and the harsh bite of liquor all while visions of you danced around his head.

Logan ran the pad of his thumb back and fourth across your bottom lip, steady and focused. Blood rushed to your face and you couldn't help but purse your lips to gently kiss the tip of his calloused finger. This only encouraged him further.

You felt his digit dip past your lips and you obediently parted them. He started to rub small circles on the tip of your tongue, collecting saliva. Once he was pleased with how wet your mouth had gotten for him, Logan slid his thumb all the way in.

Gentle strokes to the back of your tongue was all the instruction you needed. You hollowed out your cheeks and began to suck as he pumped his finger in and out in a agonizingly slow motion. This action somehow both shut off your brain and fired all of it's synapses simultaneously.

"Now that's a good girl." His low, rough voice continued to fill the air with praises as you salivated around his digit. Logan was a man of few words, but he'd run his mouth nonstop about inane nonsense if it meant he could keep you here like this. He couldn't help but feel this way, you were being so good for him.

It was all so was maddening. Didn't he know how frustrating this was for you? Of course, the man knew. He could hear in your pulse, smell it in your perspiration. The sillage of the arousal between your legs was the most prominent as it wafted around him. Knowing that you are just as crazy about him as he is about you was the only way he could be satisfied. Logan figured now was the perfect time to take things a step further.

"Your mouth feels so good, sweetheart," he cooed through steady breaths. "Wanna taste the real thing?"

Your jaw dropped a little and your eyes widened. This was getting too real too fast. Fantasies were crossing over into reality and the excitement was almost too much. Your heart was now pounding against your ribcage.

Logan was gazing at you with soft eyes, pupils blown out to their fullest extent as he awaited your answer. You couldn't say no to him when he was looking like this. No longer were you going to let your nerves stop you from getting what you truly wanted. Especially when the thing you wanted was pressing into the underside of your thigh.

You nodded with his thumb still in your mouth. He drew it out with a string of spit gradually stretching until it broke apart. The same hand then held you by the jaw and pulled you into a kiss. Every muscle in your body seemed to give out. You had no choice but to lean into him, palms pressed into his solid chest.

The exchange was hungry, wet. Way sloppier than he has ever kissed you before and it caught you a bit off guard. He took turns between sucking at your top and bottom lip. You let him take what he needed while you savored the taste of him- faint flavors of cigars and whiskey. So decadent, so Logan.

"Tell me, baby," He used his grip on you to pull you back so he could admire your swollen lips, slicked from his own mouth. To him you were the most gorgeous like this, when you looked like something that was his. Logan's breath was hot againt your face. "Need to know how bad you want it."

"Please, I..." you trailed off trying to find the right words. You've never spoken your desires out loud for anybody to hear like this before. "I need it, Lo. Please let me taste you."

"Hmm..." Logan mockingly looked to the side as pretended to think about your request, like he somehow had pros and cons to weigh about having your lips wrapped around his cock. Then he clicked his tongue. "How can I say no to my girl when she asks so sweetly. Of course you can, baby."

He connected your lips to his again, tongue unabashedly exploring your mouth. So warm and velvety, Logan couldn't believe you were about to use it for his pleasure. You gathered your bearings and kissed him back, matching his fervor. It wouldn't be surprising if the nicotine and alcohol was getting into your bloodstream this way.

His hands found the dip in your hips as he lifted you up. You squealed as Logan placed you exactly where he wanted you- on the floor with your back pressed up to the foot of the bed.

You gazed upwards at the man before you. The buldge in his jeans was eye level with you in a way that was honestly a bit intimidating. Shaky hands reached for his belt. Your body was acting with very little input from your brain, so drunk off of him.

Logan's buckle was undone with a clink and you slid his belt out of the denim loops. The way he was watching you with big, dark eyes made you hot with embarrassment. That feeling mixed with the heat between your legs practically melting you into a puddle on his floor.

After popping the top button and unzipping his pants, the material fell to his ankles. His cock was straining against the cotton of his boxers. You notice a damp patch around where the head is. Without thinking, you leaned forward and closed your mouth around the clothed tip. Logan tasted better than you expected; rich and heady, sweet and salty. You were desperately sucking the precum out of the fabric, already addicted to the taste.

"Such a dirty little tease," Logan groaned, gaze never departing from the look of mindless bliss on your face. "Couldn't even wait to undress me to get a taste."

In an unexpected move, he pulled you back with a hand on your neck and yanked his boxers down with the other. His cock swung around from the momentum, casting a shadow over you.

Logan held himself by the base, rubbing the cockhead across your bottom and top lips. His arousal was speared all over your mouth "Don't you look so fucking pretty. Think we found you your new favorite lipstick, sweetheart?"

"Mmm hmm," you agreed, the sound vibrating though his length making him shudder.

"Now open up, baby," Logan was practically whining. He was just as deperate at this point. You obey and part your lips.

He slid his cock past your wet, swollen lips. Your tongue ran against the vein on the underside of his cock, the taste of him even stronger now. "That's it, just like that. Doin' so good for me."

The back of your head was cushioned by the edge of the mattress and he shallowly thrust into your mouth. Logan was testing how much of him you could take. The obscene symphony of you slurping and gagging around his dick was more than enough to make him lose his mind. He wiped a tear streaming down your cheek away with his thumb.

You push your head forward, bringing him into your throat. Logan would be happy with anything you were willing to give. Still, you felt the need to prove yourself to him, make him proud. You were demonstrating how you would chose his cock over air. With each loud, deep groan from the man above you, you took him in deeper.

"M'gonna... fuck," his hips quivered and his voice was faltering. You knew what that meant- soon you would get the reward for all your hard work.

"I'm almost there. Can I please cum in your mouth, sweetheart?" Logan reached down to push the hair out of your face. All you could do is look up at him through your watery vision- eye contact acting as a silent permission. While panting sequences of please, please, baby, please, he pushed himself to the back of your throat.

Rope after rope of his hot, thick spend filled your mouth. Some of it slid down your throat causing you to cough around his cock, making a mess of the both of you. Logan rode out his high with a few more additional thrusts before gently pulling out.

"On the bed, c'mon," he lifted you up and made you sit on the edge of the mattress. There, he stood between your legs and began lapping up all the excess cum on your face. Your mind was so clouded by arousal, all you could do was pathetically whine at the sensation.

"Shh, shh..." Logan reassured you between tender kisses, delighting in the taste of himself on you. "Don't worry, sweet thing. I'll make sure you are taken care of."

He starting to knead at your breasts through your shirt, feeling your heart beat fast in your chest. "You're gonna let me make you feel good, aren't ya?"

"Yes, Lo. Please," your words were barely audible through airy gasps.

He didn't waste another second removing your top. If Logan was able to rewind this moment and watch it over, he would be embarrassed by the groans slipping so easily from his lips. The anticipation of finally being able to feel you, to worship you- it was almost too much.

To take out his excess frustration, Logan started attacking you with his mouth. He licked, sucked, and bit from jugular to your sternum like he was trying to eat you alive. All while snaking his hands around your back to unclasp your bra. Marks were already blooming across your chest. No one could deny who you belonged to now.

Your nipples wound themselves into tight buds from the sudden exposure to air. Rough palms warmed them up again as he desperately groped at you. You let out a long moan when you felt him roll your nipples between his calloused fingertips.

"Sensitive, huh?" Logan exhaled into your neck, "just how I knew they'd be."

He trailed sloppy kisses down to your breasts, marking the mounds with the signature of his mouth. His warm tongue swirled around your hardened bud as the hand it replaced trailed lower.

Logan was completely gone at this point, suckling at your tits like it was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his long life. You felt his teeth graze the sensitive area and you threw your head back in response. Every whimper and mewl was music to his ears.

His love bites almost distracted you from the palm underneath your skirt groping your thigh. Logan's hand was brought to the front of your mind when his fingers grazed the damp crotch of your panties.

"Got this wet just from sucking my cock? What a needy little thing. It's okay, it's all yours now, sweetheart. I'm all yours." He incoherently rambled with your tit in his mouth, "don't you worry 'bout a damn thing, baby."

He slid his hand under the waistband of your panties, palm now flush against your wet, hot cunt. You squirmed in his grasp, overstimulated from having your breasts and pussy worked at the same time. A finger rubbed circles around your enterence before dipping into the quivering hole.

Logan's mouth was still sucking and biting your flesh raw until your entire chest was flushed. The scratch of his beard only made it more intense. You glistened under the low light from a mixture sweat and saliva coating your complexion. He pumped a single finger in and out of you, losing control of the pace. You squeezed around him when he crooked the digit, swiping your sweet spot with every thrust.

Your arousal was all but leaking down to his wrist as he inserted another finger, fucking you knuckle-deep with his hand. He could tell you were close by the way you were scratching at his shoulders, holding onto him for dear life.

"C'mon, let it out. Be a good girl and let it all go for me." Logan groaned into your chest while you grinded your hips onto his hand. He didn't stop or slow down when your legs violently shook around him. The pressure building in your gut was about to burst.

The wind was completely knocked out of you as you came. "Breathe, baby, breathe," he coaxed you through your high. Your windpipe opened again and you gasped for air, shocks from your orgasm still rippling through you.

A lewd, wet noise sounded out as he slipped his fingers out of you. Logan brought them to his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning from the taste. He met your lips with his and the swirl of flavors from eachother was unlike anything you ever tasted. There was no way you wouldn't be thinking about the taste the next day, craving it's decadence until you got your next fix.

Logan kissed and held you throughout the night. From here on out, he didn't want to make it to another morning without you in his arms. That was where you belonged and that was where he'd make sure you stayed.

Fin.

[slum-eater03]

WADE WILSON X FEM READER

deadpool one shot fanfiction

WARNINGS

•cussing

•tooth aching fluff

•grumpy x sunshine trope

•slight oc reader

sweet side reserved for wade

_________________________________________________

“what happened to you?”

that was the first thing wade spoke when he walked into the kitchenette he pays for monthly. in the room is colossus looking a little down, like a kicked puppy.

he flinched and turned to him, “your mean girlfriend! that’s what!�� he yelled out in a sort of odd anger.

“reader?” wade asked, doubting him already, “she wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he said but the hurt man didn’t budge, wade rolled his eyes, “alright, pookie, what’d she do?” wade asked in a sort of exaggerated tone.

“she’s so rude! i just asked how was her day and she practically insulted everything about me with her look,” he shivered, “the way she stared at me said everything, and then she turned away and said shut up.”

wade looked at him like he said there was a naked old lady in front of him, “dude, what the fuck are you saying?? she’s way to nice to do that!” wade was playing it off as a joke, but he was starting to feel a tinge of offensive for the absent you.

“no, she’s not! she seems to only be nice to you, wade.”

wade rolled his eyes, “as if,” and before he could continue, your voice appeared behind him.

“as if what, wade?” you asked in a sort of soft tone, yet your face was still rbf as ever. you walked over and stood next to wade. you two have been dating for a few weeks now, you were just barely getting touchy with him.

he grinned and slipped his arm around your waist, tugging you into him, “he thinks you’re mean,” he said in a teasing tone, “which i told him is impossible, you’re to nice,” he brought his hand up and used a finger to boop your nose.

you felt your face heat up as you turned your head to the side to look away, yet not pull away.

“i’m not,” you mumbled.

he did his little man-giggle thing he always does and pulled you tighter, you both heard collosus grumble before pushing past the two of you.

you watched his back as he left, meanwhile wade just stared at you. he liked how you looked tucked against him. once the leaving man was away, or at least far enough for you to feel more comfortable, you skipped your arm out of of the crossed way they were and slid it around wade’s waist, tugging him closer. though you still didn’t look at him, your face to heated for you to look at him and not feel awkward.

“he said you’re only nice to me,” wade pressed his face flat against your cheek in a weird way, his nose almost poking yours.

you felt a soft chuckle leave your mouth as you turned around and pressed your forehead to his, now both of your noses squished together and a childish grin toying on his face.

“i’m not nice,” you said, now a soft smile dawning on your own mouth.

he rolled his eyes, “you’re way nice, my little pumpkin seed thing,” you raised your eyebrows a little.

“y’know,” you muttered, “sometimes i think you don’t know what nicknames your saying, just letting your brain go on auto mode.”

he shrugged his shoulders, “probably, but you looo~ooveeee them,” he said in a sort of cheeky way as he leaned his chin down and pressed a very harsh kiss on your cheek, causing the flesh to press to your teeth.

you laughed a little and pulled your face back. he made a sort of offended sound and reeled his head back just enough to get a good look at you, and for you to see his offended look, “i’m sorry? did my princess peanut just move away from my gorgeous lips?”

you laughed again, “no way, why would i move away from them?” you asked as you looked directly at them. you moved your hand up and gently swiped at the scarred lips, “you need some chapstick,” you mumbled as you gently padded at his lower lip, “you’re lips are dry, they’ll start to peel,” you said your slightly worried words unknowingly to yourself.

his lips turned up, tightening under your touch, and then his tongue poked out and slipped onto your finger where this time you reeled back with a grossed out look.

“ew!!” you yelled, quickly wiping your finger onto his own shirt.

he rolled his head and dipped his head, “my tongue has practically been down your throat, fuck you mean ew?”

your face heated up again, “that’s different,” you muttered.

he laughed, “you’re to cute!! you’re like a grumpy cat with a soft side! my little macho kitten!”

you looked up at him and rolled your eyes before standing up a little straighter and pressing your lips to his. you weren’t one to initiate kissing or anything, except for when the two of you first got together. so wade was a little taken aback, but quickly pushed against you to, loving the feeling of you with him.

the two of stayed like that for a few minutes, your tongue now down his throat, his back pressed against the counter as he bent a little so you could reach him, and finally, you both pulled apart, foreheads touching.

before you both could speak, another voice joined in.

“you mother fuckers better not be making out in my kitchen!” blind al yelled as she stepped in further, a yapping mary puppins at her feet.

you were fast to separate, even pushing him away where his head hit the cupboard. you now stood on the other side of the kitchen, face burning as you watched blind al.

“no, we weren’t,” you mumbled embarrassingly.

wade barked out a laughter, “no, we weren’t,” he agreed and he watched you relax, but he wasn’t really one to just leave it, “we were fucking.”

you threw him a wide eyed, brow furrowed look as your face burned more, “no no no! we were not! i, you know i wouldn’t! i mean, i would never do, uh, that stuff under your roof, wade!” you yelled and shot him a glare, “tell her you lied!”

he just laughed and replied with, “i’m so offended! i thought we had something, reader!”

your face went ten times shader as you looked back at blind al, your eyes now big and looking sort of whiny, “i did not, we did not! please don’t believe him!” you said in a sort of whiny tone.

blind al brushed it off, “i know you to weren’t, he’d be to fucking loud for me not to know,” blind al barked out as she opened the fridge and pulled out a beer where she knew it was.

wade watched as you practically deflated, a hand over your chest as you calmed yourself down.

wade was quick to get to your side, “didn’t know it’d be that bad,” he said jokingly, but a part of him was a tad bit hurt you found messing around with him that repulsive.

you looked up and glared, “keep it up, and i’ll show you fucking,” you mumbled low and wades eyes widened as it was his turn for his face to heat up as a grin formed on his face.

“ME AND HER FUCKERD,” wade yelled out and something about how you grabbed his arm told him he wasn’t gonna regret doing that.

[sailorsenshishitposter]

V's familiars x Reader

Otherwise known as team fur affinity fucked my wife

Griffon

First Date:

1.None. This bird will pluck out your eyeballs and most likely eat them.

2. If you can convince him you are a bird then he will perform a mating call. He will do the dance of the birds of paradise but instead of hearing David Attenborough it will sound like Gilbert Gottfried.

Shadow

First Date:

None unless you steal some furry's costume from a convention and you both get high on catnip while watching the lion king.

Nightmare

First Date:

If you value your life than none. This monster resembles something between the iron giant and the great mighty poo from conkers bad fur day. It's also not much of a date if he keeps ghosting you unless you have an inanimate supply of purple orbs. It is reccomended that you don't ride him shadow of the collosus style.

[lazarfaceproductions99]

[kohimeartz]

Everyone skippin’ on Hikaru Midorikawa /j ANYWAYS I know how this man is always surrounded by bunnies. Now imagine one time Reader (could be either another Aurorian or a Caelestelite) just absolutely exhausted decided to visit Novio’s office and away from the noise of the bustling Collosus.

This man, Novio, filled with gentleness and ancient wisdom, gave reader a smile and offered a hug because YOU CANT TELL ME THIS MAN WONT OFFER ONE.

If you consider accepting this request you have my whole heart this game needs more FanFiction

A Sense of Comfort [ FIC / FLUFF ]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HELLO THERE DARLING! I THINK I MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN CARRIED AWAY WHEN WRITING THIS SO I HOPE I DIDN'T DEVIATED FROM THE ORIGINAL REQUEST! ENJOY READING, SWEETIE!

TW : NONE!

[ HEALING FLAME, NOVIO ] X FEM! NAVIGATOR

It was a long and busy day on the Colossus, just like any other day but it seemed even busier than usual. Having to deal with the sudden delivery requested by the Courier Union, you had to fly all over the place. Thirteen deliveries to Umbraton, twenty to Illumina and so many more to the point, you couldn't keep count! However, you didn't blame nor hate Tweety for suddenly asking for your help with the deliveries; Poor girl had to deliver a hundred on her own before you came! Luckily, you were more than familiar with each faction so that saved you a lot of time rather than running about like headless chickens with the deliveries in your arms. It took from morning to evening to thoroughly send them all but you did it, with a few helping hands of course!

Though, you found yourself beyond exhaustion after finishing the work. You were so sure that people can see how with each step you take, you were practically dragging your feet behind you and that if you were to even sit or lay down, you'd be fast asleep in no time. That was how tired you were but as much as you wanted to tuck in and call it a day, there was one last thing you needed to do. After all, you hadn't gone to visit him at all in his new office and you wanted to at least say goodnight to him before returning to your room for the night

—

With a raised fist, you gently knocked on the door. It was already past everyone's bed time so you couldn't afford to be loud, if not they'd pester you endlessly on why you were still up so late. Much to your surprise, the door made a click before it parted open slightly, blue eyes peering from the space in between; it was almost frightening to say the least. "Oh, it's just you Navigator!" It was a voice that you were quite familiar with. And with a smile, Novio swung the door open as wide as he could; stepping aside so you could enter the office. "Come on in! You must be cold from how chilly it is tonight !" Beamed the Northlander priest. Striding into the room, the office was relatively clean and had some of Novio's touches as well; the wafting scent of burned jasmine incense, multiple candlelit lanterns strewn across the room and a desk that had a neatly placed paperwork stacked on top of it.

In the middle of it all, there was a couch that was akin to snow, pure and stainless as white. The priest had already seated himself on it, his gloved hand petting one of the few rabbits that was sleeping soundly next to him. His blue eyes gazed at the white furred animal in his lap with such affection before shifting his gaze towards you instead, an ever familiar and loving smile graced his lips. "Are you going to stand there as we converse, Navigator?" He teased. The dark blue haired man let out chuckle as you were quick to walk to him before taking a seat, a tinge of red coating your cheeks; you were obviously embarrassed by his words.

Eventually, his laugh died down, leaving only silence shrouding the entirety of both of you. After what seems to be like an eternity, he was the one to break the ice. "Well then, what brings you here to my office Navigator? It must be quite urgent since you came in right after visiting hours ended.." And like a child, Novio tilted his head to the side; his earrings swaying lightly. He even had that childlike curiosity swirling his eyes despite being a hundred years older than you and yet, it seemed to have charmed you even more. Maybe you were too head over heels for him you think.

"Ah! Well—" Just as you start to talk, you find yourself looking away from his gaze. You have always been composed but why did you have to fall apart in front of him now at all times? You were so sure that his eyes were piercing holes into the back of your head but you were too busy finding things to stare at rather than at him "—i-it's because I've been quite busy today and we haven't had a chance to meet each other so I wanted to—" And just when you gathered enough courage to turn your head to face him, you were right on the card on him staring at you with full focus; guilt starts to fill your guts as he was paying full attention to each and every word you've said yet you've deliberately avoided eye contact. "—Oh, nevermind! I'm sorry for bothering you this late at night, Novio!" 'This was a mistake' You thought to yourself. You decided to change your mind entirely to just bolt right out of the room

Though unluckily for you, Novio was always one step ahead of you. His gloved hand was quick to hold on to yours before pulling right into his embrace. He let out a soft chuckle before grasping your chin, making you look at him in the eye "Pretty rabbit....I can tell that you want something from me no?" He said quietly, his face leaning in closer as you closed your eyes to brace yourself, your cheeks already tinted red. Novio let out another chuckle before he engulfed you in a hug, his gloved hand petting your hair as he sat you in his lap, his grip firm yet gentle "There, there..." The male cooed as he caressed your cheeks, a warm smile on his lips "It's been a long day for you so come and rest in my embrace, pretty rabbit. Close your eyes and let yourself go to sleep" Novio added. His breathing was slow and steady, his head was rested on top of your head and it seemed like he was intent on keeping you there. It was getting hard to keep your eyes open from how warm and soft he was so eventually you fluttered your eyes close, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you soon drifted to sleep

[candyland-xblade]

I AM REWORKING THIS POST!!! DONT TAKE IT TOO SERIOUSLY!!! THIS IS THE OLD ONE!!!

I’m thinking on opening requests for one shot/drabbles. I’m a little out of practice and I don’t normally post here, but I’m wanting to get back in the game. Below are my rules:

- I will try to make them one shots, but they may end up being drabbles.

- They will be 13+ unless requested otherwise.

- Character x reader stories are my forte, but I can do character x character if requested.

- I’ll won’t post your name if you don’t want it. I’ll put you as ANON.

- My stories involve swearing. Request if you don’t want swearing in your request .

- Song fics are an option, I just need to listen to the song a few times before starting.

- Romantic, platonic, and enemy stories are all options.

- I’ll write fluff and smut. I can try angst, but only to a certain point.

- Fandoms and characters are listed below.

- Other characters and fandoms may be difficult for me, but I’ll try.

Marvel:

- Tony Stark

- Steve Rogers

- Loki

- Bucky

- Sam Wilson

- Karli Morgenthau

- Helmut Zemo

- Peter Parker (any of the three)

- Vision

- Scott Lang

- Jimmy W💫💫

- Deadpool

- John Walker

- Natasha Romanoff

- Wanda Maximoff

- Darcy Lewis

- Monica Rambeu

- Agatha Harkness

- Nebula

- Gamora

- Mantis

- Negasonic Teenage Warhead

- Collosus

- Venom

- Eddie Brock

- Sylvie

- Mobius

- Ravonna

- Morbius (after I see the movie)

- Harry Osborn (I’ll write for either Raimi or TASM)

- All No Way Home villains (Norman, Otto, and Curt mostly, but I can branch out and do the others.)

DC

- Superman

- Wonder Woman

- Batman

- Harley Quinn

- Emily Locke

- Roman Sionis

- Red Hood

- Joker

Sanders Sides/Thomas Sanders:

- Logan Sanders

- Roman Sanders

- Patton Sanders

- Virgil Sanders

- Janus Sanders

- Remus Sanders

- Detective Sanders (I call him DeLancey)

- “Don’t Make Me” prince (I call him Richard)

- Salior Sanders

- Warrior Thomas

- Remy Sanders

- Emilie Pichani

- Thomas Sanders

- any vine characters

Star Wars:

- Anakin Skywalker

- Darth Vader

- Obi-Wan Kanobi

- Padmé Amidala

- Qui-Gon Jinn

- Mace Windu

- Yoda

- Luke Skywalker

- Leia Organa

- Han Solo

- Darth Vader

- Din Djarin

- Grogu

- Cara Dune

- Jango Fett

- Commander Cody

- Boba Fett

- Fennec Shand

- Rey

- Finn

- Poe Dameron

- R2-D2

- C-3PO

- BB-8

Egos

(Still need to get used to these characters, but I’ll write them.)

- Darkiplier

- Antisepticeye

YouTubers:

- Jacksepticeye

- ItsAlexClark

- Azzyland

- Gloom

- Thomas Sanders

- Markiplier

- Athena P

Five Nights at Freddy’s:

- Toy!Chika

- Glamrock!Freddy

- Glamrock!Chika

- Bonnie

- Chicka

- Freddy

- Foxy

- Monty

- Roxy

- Purple Guy

- Springtrap

- Marrionette

- Ballora

- Vanessa

- Vanny

- Gregory (I will age him up if you want a romantic story)

Other:

- literally any Disney princess

- some Disney Characters

- Some Avatar: The Last Airbender characters

- absolutely no Harry Potter characters

- Nathan Drake (UNCHARTED film)

- Blue Shirt Guy (Free Guy)

- DUDE (Free Guy)

- Mavis Dracula (Hotel Transylvania)

- Javi Gutierrez (The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)

[midnitcafe]

Amazing X-Men, Volume 3: Once and Future Juggernaut I’ve been working my way through the Amazing X-Men and its been a bit of a mixed bag.  This book especially so.   When I write about comics I often note how inexperienced I am as a comic book reader.  I didn’t grow up reading comics.  Over the last decade I’ve become more and more interested in them but its been a slow process.  While I do read fairly frequently now I’m still way behind on the major books, especially the super-heroes.  I’ve probably read more. X-Men stories than any other comic but there is still so much I haven’t read.

The reason I so often mention this is that I feel like such a novice talking about these characters who have been around for many decades.  I don’t know what the Amazing X-Men are, I mean I know the X-Men but they got Amazing in this series and I don’t know when or why.  Which leaves me confused when I read things like Wolverine is dead (except when he’s not like in the annual that comes at the end of this book), etc.

Anyways I’ll try to muddle through.  With me picking and choosing (sometimes randomly, admittedly) graphic novels I tend to go for ones that contain one larger story.  This volume has three separate stories plus the annual.  Like I say, its a mixed bag.

Its starts with a short, but fairly sweet story about a gay romance and accepting yourself, powers and all.  Its nice but not really the sort of thing I come to the X-Men for.

The second story has Nightcrawler on a murderous rampage with Mystique trying to stop him.  I may be fairly new to comics but even I know that’s all sorts of backwards.  It not really explained very well why Nightcrawler is out to kill either and then in the next story that’s all but dropped.  I think it was part of a bigger multi-character crossover but all we get here is the X-Men bit.

The Juggernaut story is the longest and most successful of the stories.  Its also where I get confused again.  So there is this jewel that is on Earth and whoever touches it becomes the Juggernaut, a super strong being controlled in part by Cyttorak an alien with god desires.  The X-Men rush to find it and keep anyone from grabbing it.  Of course someone does and eventually they destroy him.

There are long bits where the X-Men just sit around talking about what to do with Juggernaut while he just kind of hangs out being all powerful.  Its pretty funny is its own weird way.  There is a lot  to do about Collosus always rushing in to sacrifice and it does some pretty good character building there.

I’ve seen a lot of fanboy complaints about the art, but I liked it.  There were lots of fun full-page action sequences which are pretty cool.

The last story, the annual finds Storm going back to her homeland to face off with somebody.  Or something.  Its pretty weak.

So yea, mixed bag. There was enough to like that I’m writing about it, but not enough there to really love.