#x-men reader insert

While I think that Kurt is the kind of man who talks you through it, I also think he LOVES to be talked through it as well. Add a note of pity? Get a little condescending? Oh he’s falling apart for you.

“A-ah-please-” Kurt’s arching in your grip, head falling against your shoulder as his hips flex. Sweat dances along his hairline, a darkened blue dusting his sculpted cheeks.

“Please what?” Your voice is a low purr, lips brushing along the length of his ear before your tongue is dragging along the sensitive skin. He cries out again, instinctively turning into you so that his nose can press against your chin.

“P-please,” His voice breaks, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as he squirms in your embrace. “Make me cum, mommy.”

The grin that splits your cheeks is damn sinful, stomach tightening at the way he whimpers when your grip tightens around his cock. The tip is leaking, slick with both of your combined spit and his precum, fist wet as it slides and twists around his sensitive cock, and fuck it isn’t helping that the tip of his tail is running over the leaking slit of his cock.

Kurt’s found himself tucked between your legs, his back against your chest as you lean against the headboard of your bed. You’ve got your arms around him, his head tucked against the crook of your shoulder while you tease him, work him up to a mean orgasm. You’ve been edging him for the better part of 30 minutes now, peering over his shoulder to watch yourself work him over, let your gaze roam freely over his muscled body, linger on the way his thighs flex, how his abs tense under your careful ministrations, watch his chest heave as he struggles to catch his breath. The position you’re in allows you to tug on his cock with ease and it’s driving Kurt insane. He’s completely at your mercy like this, forced to watch your smaller hand pump his dick for him until he’s literally whining into your neck, the sensitive, pointed end of his tail sliding over his wet slit while he begs you for something, anything.

“Tell me how good it feels baby,” You coo and Kurt whimpers at the nickname, thick fingers pressing blue bruises into the sensitive skin of your thighs. He’s never said it out loud, but you know he loves seeing your skin blue because of him, like you share something even deeper, more primal when you’re left like that.

He cries out when you reward him with a particularly tight tug and you watch with rapt attention with the tip of his tail slips into the weeping slit of his cock for a brief moment.

“Fuck, it feels-” He swallows loudly, jaw working as he lets his canines graze your throat. “So good. Feel s’good, fuck mommy feels so good-”

He’s babbling now and you’re grinning, fist tightening into something mean as you pick up the pace, fingers slipping over the sensitive head of his cock, your wrist shifting as you twist your hand ever so slightly as you tug. Kurt’s hips are pushing up into your hand now while he pants in your embrace, whimpering softly. He’s close, you know him well enough by now to tell when he’s getting close to cumming. He’s a glutton for punishment but you’d already edged and denied him three times now and he really had been such a good boy for you all night. He’d even begged when he’d wanted to kiss you.

“You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” You murmured, lips pressed against his ear. “Hm? Go ahead and answer me baby.”

“I am, I am mommy I-” He grunts, hips canting upwards as he begins to fuck his cock into your hand. “I’m a good boy for you, I am-”

“Look at how pretty you look for mommy,” Your voice is low, soothing before you’re lapping at the sweat gathered on his temple. Kurt arches into your when your tongue slides over his skin, the wet, hot heat of it pulling a low groan from him as he struggles not to spill over into your hand. Not until you tell him to, not until you give him permission.

He knows the rules.

He likes to keep his girl happy. Not that he’s worked up the courage to officially claim you yet. Though nobody would deny it. The walls weren’t too sound proof in the mansion, though given the rate at which everyone was fucking each other: they should have been.

“Go ahead Kurt,” Your voice is low as you press your lips against his ear. “Talk to mommy about how pretty you look.”

“Ah fuck,” Kurt pants, head falling back against your shoulder for a moment while he tried, desperately, to collect himself. The wet, slow schlick schlick schlick of your fist dragging over his sensitive cock was making it damn near impossible for him to not cum all over you. You watched his gaze snap down to your hand, his brows drawn together as his mouth fell open. He looked entirely spent, thighs quivering as he struggled oh so desperately to hold on just a little longer-

“Be a good boy and cum for me baby,” It was a demand, your other hand slipping around him to tangle itself in his hair and force his head forward so that he had nowhere to look but his overstimulated cock. “Cum all over yourself for mommy.”

It took two more strokes before Kurt was loudly crying out, your name a needy whine as his hips lost their rhythm and he was cumming in thick ropes across your hand and his stomach and chest and fuck did he look good.

“That’s it baby,” You murmured against his ear, pride swelling in your chest at the way he shook in your embrace, tail curling itself tightly around your calf as he struggled to breathe through his intense orgasm. Your hand began to slow, fingers pushing his damp blue locks back from his forehead as you felt him relax back into your chest. “Breathe for me baby, breathe.”

Kurt was still quivering against you, hips twitching and small whines tearing free as your palm smoothed over his sensitive dick, his breathing heavy as his hands continued to grip your thighs.

“Fraulein?” It was a breathy, low whisper, one that made your stomach tighten. You hummed in response, grinning when you kissed his neck and he nearly cried out. “I don’t think anyone has made me feel as good as you do.”

You laughed lightly, arms tightening around him for a moment as you pulled him closer to you, ignoring the warm, wet mess on his torso. “Yeah?”

He nodded, still trying to catch his breath as his head dropped back against your shoulder. “Uh huh.”

You stayed like that for a few more moments before Kurt was suddenly shifting in your embrace, leaning forward and moving away from you. Your heart picked up its pace in your chest, thighs tightening at the prospect of what would come next. Sex with Kurt was like clockwork and you knew what was happening; he needed to please you now. There would be no denying or escaping it, Kurt would hold you down if you tried to insist that tonight would be all about him. He’d done it before, denying you the right to make it about him and only him, acting like it was some abhorrent, sinful act that he not make you cum, like it was his god given right to please you. You’d learned the hard way that Kurt was a giver, and he’d held you down and eaten you out too many times now to leave any room for doubt.

He turned to face you, balancing himself on his knees as he reached forward to smooth his hands over your thighs and up your hips.

“Kurt,” It was a low warning, breathless. “You don’t have to do this, why don’t you just let me take care of you-”

He frowned like you’d offended him before he was pulling you away from the headboard and further up the bed so that your back was against the pillows, legs splayed as he carefully rested his hands against your thighs and pushed them apart.

But, as you stand at the top of the main staircase, dressed in a pink, lacy princess dress, you wonder if you had to invest in proper costumes for the sessions of make-believe.

The dress was too small for you, the skirt not even going to your knees, and you had to leave the back unzipped just to fit in it; but it made the little one happy to see you oblige her wanting to play “Knights and Princesses” by playing the latter. You had naturally wanted to be the knight with her, but that role had been given to none other than…

“Oh Princess of Xavier castle, we are here to rescue you!” called a dramatic and accented voice from the bottom of the stairs. You watched as Kurt and the little one leaped from the shadows, both donning knightly costumes and plastic swords.

That was your cue, you step out and place your hand on the banister at the top of the grand staircase. “Oh my brave knights!” you cried in a wavering, simpering tone. Hey, if you were stuck as the princess, might as well have some fun, right? “Please, you must run and save yourselves!”

“Knight’s never run!” the girl shouted with pride, puffing out her chest.

“What she said!” Kurt confirmed.

“But, my heroes, you don’t understand! There’s a fearsome dragon- and he’ll surely destroy both of you!” You paused, but nothing happened. “I said.” you repeated, far more sharp this time, “He’s sure. To destroy. Both of you!”

“Rawer.” came a flat voice from the other side of the stairs.

Scott came out into the open, dressed in a cardboard and crayon-colored attempt at a dragon’s costume you and the mini knight had made to fit him. He had wanted to be a knight too, but folded like a cheap suit the moment the girl gave him the Big Sad Eyes and asked him to be their dragon.

Surprisingly, despite his flat tone, he wasn't doing too bad.

"Who dares enter my castle!" he said, ending with a much better roar than his first.

The little girl yelled dramatically “The Knights of the X Table, that's who! Now get back, you nasty beast! You won’t terrorize the princess any longer!”

" 'Nasty'? Well, that's a little uncalled f- AH!" Scott's mumbling was cut off as the tiny knight charged, swinging her sword wildly.

“Sir Kurt, you get the princess to safety, I’ll deal with the creature!” She called back as Scott the dragon let out another yell and ran for the next room.

Kurt looked up at you with a wink, “My pleasure!” and disappeared in a puff of purple smoke.

He reappeared next to you, that wicked grin displayed brilliantly on his face. His tail gripped the back of your dress and pulled, effectively causing you to spin into his arms. You couldn’t help the heat rising in your cheeks as his face neared yours.

“Are you ready, meine Prinzessin?” he asked in a low, almost intimate tone. But before you had time to reply with anything but flustered mumbles, he pointed his sword at the sky and yelled “Fear not, your Highness, for I shall throw you to safety!”

That got your attention “Wait ‘throw’!?”

Before you could free yourself of the elf, he lifted you into his arms and the gesture would have been romantic, if he had not immediately tossed you over the banister.

You only had time to scream something along the lines of ‘I’ll run you through with that plastic sword, Wagner’ before you were engulfed in black and purple smoke. Next thing you knew, Kurt was crouching on the ground floor holding you closely…and barely concealing his teasing chuckles!

“Come now, Liebling, did you really think I would let you get hurt?” He asked, obviously still amused at how shocked your face was.

“You could have warned me,” you crossed your arms, but even you knew all he had to do was smile to be forgiven.

“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?”

You rolled your eyes, but then the voice of Kurt’s fellow knight in cardboard armor came from the other room. “Sir Kurt, have you gotten the princess yet!?”

“Oh, my dear knight, thank you for freeing me from that awful tower!” you cried, falling back into character easily and making sure the little one heard you.

“Of course, my fair damsel,” Kurt replied in that theatrical voice, but then “anything for you,” he added in that same low tone he used before. “You know, usually the prince gets a kiss in reward when saving a damsel in distress.”

“Is that so?” You ran your hands up his chest and leaned in so your lips were just a breath apart. “Well, my prince…” you swore you heard him draw in a breath and hold it, anticipation simmering- right before you snatched the plastic sword from his hand and jumped to your feet. “You'll have to get your kiss after we defeat the dragon!”

The look on his face was priceless as you winked at him and turned towards the next room. You brandished the sword proudly and charged towards the mini knight and Scott the dragon, yelling like a Shakespearian actor about how the beast’s days were numbered.

You didn’t see the look of complete adoration etched on Kurt’s face as he watched you, tail swaying dreamily behind him. After allowing himself a smitten sigh, he stood straight and pulled a second plastic sword from his belt.

"Wait for me!"

...

Your bare feet treaded lightly as you descended the stairs, your hands running over the lengthy garland that was wrapped around the railing. Soft yellow lights lit your path like pixies twinkling in the night.

During the daylight hours, the halls were bustling with excited students playing with their toys. The very air buzzed with energy as swarms of little faces passed you.

Those faces… Those smiles… They had become home.

It wasn’t just the familiarity of your surroundings- knowing each room and how to get there. It was the fact that these walls protected the ones you’d come to love. Made them comfortable. Provided security for them. Helped to create a space for them to reach for their full potential.

The evening hours were a stark contrast to the holiday excitement. Quiet. Tranquil. 

Most everyone that dwelled and learned there were fast asleep- tired out from the day’s activities, and yet, hopeful and anticipating what the next day would bring.

It was in that quiet time that you had the house to yourself in a way. Of course, there were times when you’d encounter another soul who couldn’t sleep or was simply enjoying the peace just as you were. With the traumas and tragic histories that those who attended the academy tended to have, it wasn’t unheard of. But it seemed tonight, everyone under that roof found themselves enjoying peaceful slumber.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs once you’d made your descent, peering around.

Well, almost everyone. There was one you expected to be awake yet.

You reached one of the common rooms, feeling your heart skip a beat when you saw him sprawled out rather comfortably on the couch as he waited for your approach, his head resting on a throw pillow as he gazed at the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

Logan’s exceptional hearing alerted him of your presence and he turned, eyebrows raised, to greet you.

“Hi,” you whispered, crossing the room as quickly as you could without your footsteps making noise. He lifted his arms invitingly, allowing you to drape yourself against his side on the couch.

“Hey,” he murmured against your hair. “What took you so long?”

“It was five minutes,” you countered playfully.

“Yeah, well, it felt like five years.” His arms encircled you, giving you a squeeze that pressed you tighter against him. You shut your eyes and drank in the steady thump-thump of Logan’s heart and the way his chest rose and fell with each deep, tired breath he took. That and his scent- a sort of teakwood mingled with notes of a warm musk- was a deadly combination that might have you falling asleep within the next ten or so minutes. Especially after the busy last few days you’d had.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, noticing how quiet you were.

“Do you think the kids had a good Christmas?” you asked. So much had gone into preparation. You’d been so busy with wrapping gifts, making preparations for the holiday meals, and organizing activities for the students that the quiet was almost unsettling. While you’d been so thrilled with your work, your mind now seemed keen on reflecting on your efforts and nitpicking every little detail that you previously hadn’t had an opportunity to address.

“You kiddin’ me?” Logan asked in disbelief. “Everyone had a blast. Students and staff included.”

“Really?” You shifted to glance up at him. His brows furrowed in confusion as he tilted his head down.

“Yeah. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Nothing major. I just noticed some of the gift wrapping wasn’t the best. The potatoes at dinner were kind of dry…” You counted the items on your fingers as you listed them aloud. Logan took hold of your hand before you could count any more, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Woah, woah, there.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, murmuring in that low voice of his, “I must’ve seen hundreds of smiles today. Too many to count. You were a big part of making that happen.”

Your heart fluttered, and he continued.

“Now, some of these things you’re talking about, I don’t think that’s the case. At least, I didn’t notice. The potatoes were good. All the gifts were wrapped with care. Not to mention shredded open before anyone could hold them under a magnifying glass and check.”

That made you chuckle, and Logan moved to kiss your cheek. “You’re right.” Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of the doubts that had attempted to plague you in the aftermath of your victory. “Thank you, Logan.”

He gazed down at you again, his dark eyes set aglow by the soft lights. “You did good. Let yourself enjoy it.”

You leaned up to press your lips against his, and Logan in turn cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss. What tension had begun to set in your muscles melted away, and you relaxed fully in his arms. Letting your head rest against his flannel shirt, you huffed in amusement.

“I’m in danger now,” you whispered.

“Hm?”

“With nothing to worry about, I am inclined to fall asleep.”

“Then sleep.” His hand began to rub up and down your back soothingly, tempting you further. “Winter break is still on tomorrow.”

Classes wouldn’t start up again until after New Year’s day, so you’d have time to recuperate.

You sighed deeply at the realization, letting your eyes flutter closed. “Alright, then. I’m convinced.” Craning your neck to sneak in one last kiss on his lips, you whispered, “merry Christmas.”

She lay her head on her knees, the soft bedcover serving as a cushion.

It had been years since she’d been here. After what happened, how they broke up, it was hard to believe she was still welcomed back. She knew Kurt was a good man. The best of men. She also knew that they could never go back to where they were.

She glanced over at her wristwatch on the bedside table. 3am. The third night in a row she’d stayed up regretting and wondering and crying.

Suddenly she realised how utterly exhausted she was. Maybe it was time for a bit of comfort food.

Damn this place. And damn her for not being strong enough to take care of herself and ending up back at Xavier’s looking for comfort. Again.

She knew her face was red and puffy. She probably looked a mess. But no -one was awake anyway, so who cares?

Throwing off the bedsheets in frustration, she rubbed a flannelette sleeve harshly across her eyes, and made her way quietly to the kitchen.

 Kurt lay awake, stricken with the turmoil of his ex-girlfriend’s recent reappearance.

‘Definitely not a good thing…’ He tried convincing himself quietly, rolling over for a seemingly uncountable time in the past 5 minutes. He flicked his articulate tail dismissively against the mattress, remembering how, all those years ago, she had suddenly cut him out of her life.

Whatever the reasons for it had been, it had left Kurt unable to take on his usual personality of swashbuckling jokester for a very long time. He knew it was hard hearted of him, but he thought he would never be able to forgive her for what she’d done.

But now, when she was so close to him once more…it was hard to believe this was the same girl he’d had the time of his life with.

And he wanted to help her.

Though she had been avoiding him for the time she’d been here (at the most, he’d been receiving a quiet, stiff, “Hello, Kurt,”) maybe he could…fix her. And deep down, he wanted those days back.

But would she be willing to work out their problems?

He stared at the ceiling in thought for some time, the ticking of the plain clock of the opposite wall adding to his space out.

Yes, he had to help her- because a small part of him still believed and hoped that everything between them had not been lost forever.

She reached around the side of the wall for the light switch, fumbling momentarily before deciding perhaps the solemn darkness of the empty kitchen was more sympathetic. Flinging the fridge open she started to pull out whatever struck her fancy.

When a girl’s upset, she probably could literally eat a horse.

Moving to the cabinets, she repeated her food search and emotional rescue, topping it off with a return to the fridge, guzzling an unguarded carton of chocolate milk left vulnerable in the side door. The nausea that began to creep in only spurred her in her downward spiral, and she gazed with an empty hunger upon spotting a supermarket cake tucked in another lit corner of the fridge.

Ripping the plastic lid off, she started to hack away with a fork. Coming to that familiar kitchen in the small hours of the night wasn’t the best idea after all. The hall lights reflected off the lacquered wooden cabinetry as it all started to come back to her.

“May I have this dance, Liebchen?” He said quietly, stifling a laugh. She was on the verge of collapsing into a fit of giggles too.

‘We should get candles or something. You know, romance.” She whispered, grinning. Kurt responded by opening the fridge and wedging a chair against the door.

“Here. Mood lighting.” He flashed that gleaming fanged smile of his and, contagious, she lit up in return. He took her hand in his, the other curving around her back. Behind him, his spade tipped tail swayed affectionately.

Then they were not so much dancing as melding to each others warmth. It was a slow, effortless rhythm. The small darkened kitchen disappeared and then the rest of the world, replaced by the comforting smell of Kurt’s unique brimstone-soap combination and his gentle grasp on her hand.

Two fingered. Strong. Adoring.

Her cake was a mushy mess. Mindlessly mutilating one whilst mourning a lost love can make that happen for you. That night in the kitchen had been so perfect.

And so far away now.

She sat there in silence, ignoring her numb fingertips and toes as the cold crept up on her.

She had known something had been missing. And maybe she knew just what.

Or who.

“Liebchen.”

She started, almost knocking her banquet of self-pity off the table. It was Kurt.

Kurt.

His accent was husky with the early hours of the morning. She was surprised to find herself almost instantaneously trembling, and she knew it wasn’t just the cold.

He quietly made his way towards her. She instinctively lowered her head feeling a shame rising in her.

“You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” She whispered.

He lept softly onto the bar stool besides her, and briefly glanced in concern at the mess of boxes and silver foil packaging scattered on the bench. Kurt matter-of-factly began to help her pack away what was left of the food.

“I thought I’d find you in here. I just have something I need to say to you…”

She glanced up at him, only to meet Kurt’s amber gaze. There was an intensity in it that made her pulse falter and her breath hitch in her lungs. Blinking harshly against the hot tears that had sprung to her eyes she found herself stuttering a plea.

“Kurt, I…”  I know we’re done. I ruined everything. I never deserved yo-

“I would give anything for another try with you.” Kurt admitted sincerely.

Her eyes widened as she looked at Kurt, speechless. He blinked, his face a mixture of expectation and nervousness as he watched her digest his confession.

All at once she threw her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder, Kurt wrapping his own arms around her, pulling her tight against him. “I’m so sorry.” She choked. “I get scared- and I run. I love you with my whole heart Kurt and it terrifies me. But I never wanted to hurt you.”

He smoothed her hair as his expression softened.

“I know. I’m not mad at you. When you came back to the mansion, I could tell you were torn up about something- all this time, you thought you had to run from yourself?”

She pressed her damp face further into his chest, feeling more embarrassed at her sudden vulnerability. Kurt pried her from himself and she let out a half-laugh-half-sob.

A wheeze.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe tonight you stop running and let me take care of you- I’ll love you carefully if I have to.” Kurt squeezed her hand in reassurance and smiled warmly. Noticing the time on the oven’s green LED display he added: “I think we could do with a good sleep in the meantime though. Come on.”

In an instant, Kurt had teleported the both of them to his unmade bed. He chuckled as, now exhausted she wrapped herself securely in his bedsheets, relishing the way they smelt of him. 

“I thought it was weird that I could turn blue, but at least I don’t turn into a cat and stalk people! I know you’re listening to me! Don’t give me that confused look!” 

“Why are you yelling at a cat?” You walked into the drawing room to see Hank yelling at a random moggy. It was rather bizarre watching him point his finger, hand on one hip, and admonish a creature that obviously could care less. 

“Wait...its not...its not you?” You watched Hank look between you and the cat with what appeared to be increasing embarrassment as he realised the person he thought he was talking to was not in fact a person at all. 

“Duh, genius. Did you think it was me?”

“Maybe...”

“Wow.” After all this time and he still can’t seem to grasp that you had a particular pattern no matter what animal you chose to shift into. “I thought you were a scientist? Aren’t you supposed to be observant.”