#I had a really hard time getting the back leg right

[henry7931]

Carter’s Body Is A Party

Dan:

Ahhh shit! I think I fucked up. The crazy thing is— this isn’t even my body. It belongs to this 21 year old kid name Carter. Kinda a long story but I basically talked him into switching bodies with me. Well okay, I know how that sounds! Let me correct myself we mutually agreed to the swap but I initiated it. You see I’m 39 years old, single, handsome I might add. But when I met Carter, I felt like I had a chance to really live carefree again.

We were in a bar when I first laid my eyes on Carter a couple weeks back. I was sitting alone, I frequent this bar a lot since it’s in walking distance to my place and he was sitting by himself as well… l kept noticing that he was staring at me which felt good. He’s a good looking young guy. He looked liked the kinda guy I’d beg for attention from at his age.

Eventually he came up to me and offered to get me a drink. I tried to turn him down but he was so persistent. After a while of him flirting with me really hard, I decided to let my guard down.

We talked for hours at that bar, taking shot after shot. I eventually invited him to come back to my place.

That is where I had the bright drunken idea of us swapping bodies.

“Carter, you are sooooo fine,” I said to him drunkenly. “I think I want to be you…let’s swap bodies!! It would be sooo hot!”

He didn’t believe me at first but then I pulled out a magical ring that’s been passed down through my family.

We started to make out a bit and we both ended up stripping off all of our clothes down to our underwear.

I look at Carter’s young face… he said to me, “fuck, I hope this is real. I wanna be able to touch your body every morning.”

My dick got hard at the thought of being able to do the same in his. Carter ran his fingers through my chest hair and says, “you’re such a fine ass man Dan. I’d do anything…”

“Fuck well I’m about to make both of our dreams come true. You ready?,” I say putting on the ring.

“Fuck yeah!”

As I slid on the ring, I said his name aloud. I just a split second both of us passed out.

As I started to come too, I immediately knew I was Carter. I sat up and saw Carter filling up my chest.

I thought he would be freaked out. Instead he seemed so amazed.

I watch him navigate slowly with my hands… touching my chest, my nipples…

He worked his way down until eyes met my dick which was about to pop out of my underwear at any moment

“can I?,” he said with the softest tone.

“It’s your body right now.”

Carter pulled out my dick and began to fondle it in front of me.

I was so turned by his excitement about having my body. I got up and immediately started sucking my body off.

Carter watched me work my own cock for him. I felt my bigger hands run through Carter’s hair.

And I felt him pull back and grab his chin.

“Dan, let’s get in bed.”

I pull off his underwear and saw all of Carter’s naked body for the first time. His cock was long and eager. His pubes were trimmed down (unlike mine) and he had these cute tight balls.

Carter felt up and down his junk for me.

“Does your hands feel good on my cock?,” he says to me with a grin.

“Yeah it does,” I say back to him.

I look down at Carter’s legs and then at his sexy boyish feet.

That’s when Carter began to run my tongue up and down his shaft. I could feel my stubble glide across his ballsack.

“Fuck, I can tell this is going to be a long night!,” I say to him.

Carter and I fucked around for hours. We would take turns edging each other and showing one another how each other’s bodies respond. Neither one of us wanted to cum.

But I was the first one to blow my load. And he came shortly after me.

Both of us laid in bed licking cum off of each other. Shortly after I felt my naked body wrap its arms around me and we cuddled off to sleep.

By morning, we made an agreement. We keep each other’s bodies until one of us says we’re ready to swap back.

Listen, I knew I was going to go back to my life and my body at some point. I was just not prepared for the wild ride of Carter’s life.

I soon found out that was a college student who parties a lot!

I mean the schedule was already made for me. I’d go to his class which was a surprisingly easy for me. And then his friend sends in a text…

“A total rager is going down tonight boys!”

“Who wants to go out and hit the bars?”

“House party at my place tonight!”

It was nonstop and I couldn’t get enough of it.

It took me no time to get to know his friends but I do think it’s because I’m the best looking in the crew and I’m confident several want to get into my pants.

Which I may have let a few of them do so…

Although, they have noticed a difference in me. Which is that I have zero fear of showing off myself, especially this body.

Most nights I’d even refuse to wear a shirt!

I went from constant hook ups, hard core clubbing…

But then we went to a concert and I may have taken it too far…

All of us were having a good time when I came across this handsome guy.

“Sup! My names Carter,” I said to him with a grin.

“Hey, you’re cute. You wanna make out?,” said the handsome stranger.

“Fuck yeah!”

This guy and I made out for a while at the concert. Neither of us gave a fuck about anyone around us.

That’s when I felt him unbuckle my pants…

All I could think of in the back of my head was… am I really about to get my dick sucked out in the open at a concert???

Before I could even think, Carter’s dick was out of his pants and this guy was on his knees.

“Holy shit Carter!” I hear one of his friends say in the background.

The guy sucking me off was sooo good at it. I couldn’t even think straight.

“Dude! Carter!! The police!!!”

The second I came down this guy’s throat, the police came up and caught us red handed.

Luckily, I didn’t get charged with anything. But they did take me to jail along with the other guy.

We both sat quietly the entire ride.

And when they put us in a cell both of us sat awkwardly.

All I could say in that moment was, “man I messed up.”

The guy looked over at me nervously, “I did too Dan.”

It took me a second to register him using my real name.

“Carter?”

“Yeah it’s me…”

“What the fuck??!? Where is my body???”

“Well with this guy… I don’t know. It was a really dumb idea. He came over to your place. I showed him the ring and then the next morning I couldn’t find him in your body. Plus he stole your ring!”

“CARTER!!!”

“I’m sorry!!!”

I watched as the other handsome 20 something, cried his eyes out. I wanted to be so mad at him. But then I remembered just how foolish I’ve been in his body.

Shortly after one of Carter’s friends posted my bail and I ended up doing the same for the actual Carter.

Weeks passed while Carter and I tried our hardest to find my body. But unfortunately we had no luck. Carter and I eventually grew a fondness for each other.

I graduated college the following spring and Carter got a nice job with his body. It helped that the stranger that took my body was already somewhat successful in life.

Both of managed to get a nice place together. Although life seems kind of boring now, we do frequent a club on an occasion.

[iwashie]

𝙒𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙃𝙚 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙒𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙?

sevika x fem!reader, bi reader, exes to hookups again, +18

You were Sevika's ex girlfriend, almost got married to her but the disagreements and her lack of time for you made you break up with her and some time after started dating a kind man who took you to the topside, both of you trying a life there and leaving Zaun behind.

But, look who's back to the lower levels of Zaun in flesh and bones, alone and prettier as ever, bringing some sunlight to that hole, and rotting at the Last Drop as you used to.

Sevika chuckled when the men pointed to you across the bar, sitting all alone and having your favorite drink, still the most beautiful woman in Zaun, your flashy clothes and sulken face forcing her way to you.

"Well, well, well. Look who's back to the hole, the only one!" You rolled your eyes as the voice echoed close to you. "Missed home so much? And alone as I see..."

"Don't start, Sevika. I'm not in the mood for your bitterness." You replied, still paying attention to your glass, the drinking more interesting than the woman next to you; a white light, because Sevika would always be fucking interesting, no one compares to her. You could feel her eyes on your body, looking you up and down and that damn smirk on her lips as she always had when was about you.

"Just curious cuz you know, rumors in Zaun spread fast, and the saying is that you come back alone for good." She got closer, her mechanic arm resting on the wood, and her other hand brought the glass of whisky to her chipped lips. You followed the movement out of the coner of your eyes, gulping down as she licked her lower lip and smirked, knowing that you were looking at her. "Where's your man? Zaun is getting dangerous to wander around alone, girl."

You sighed heavily, knocking your hands on the table, turning your whole body to her, and looking at those grey eyes shining at you. She was the same damn sturdy, hot, old, and big woman that had you drooling over. She automatically made room for your knees between her open legs as old times. "I'm not with him anymore, okay? He's still up there, and I'm back home. Happy, vika?"

She laughed loud, banging the glass on the table and leaning over you, almost touching your noses. You held your breath, eyes strolling across her face before locking eyes with hers. "Pretty much, doll." You gulped, eyes lowering to her lips and back up. "The boy was a kid, wasn't he? Told you you couldn't get better than me." She laughed again, and you lost your temper, getting up and glaring at her; the height difference was still big, you barely reached her chest, and she lowered to your level.

"I had a good time with him. Felt like I was a priority for the first time." She huffed, her eyebrows knitting together as she ran her tongue on her teeth. You smiled and continued. "He was really good to me. I lived pretty comfortable and happy there."

You hit on a nerve and smiled more as Sevika fumed, fire on her eyes still locked in your figure. You paid your drink and left the bar, knowing she was following close behind. It was always like this when it's about you two; a dance, getting under each other skin just to end tangled and start the circle again.

You sighed as you pressed your face on the wall, nails digging on the garment behind you, feeling the warmth and weight on you. "If you had a good time, why did you come back, doll? He didn't know you like I do, right?"

You rolled your ass on her as she pushed your waist against hers, pressing your body on the wall of the alley. She sniffed your neck, giving a light kiss on the region, and sucked hard as her hands hovered your curves. "He didn't touch you like I do, huh?"

"He didn't know your body like I do, doll." She ran her hands up to your boobs, copping them and squeezing with care. You threw your head onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and grabbing her close as she unfolded you so easily. "He didn't do you right just the way I do, right?"

"Vikaa, please..." You panted on her neck as she played with you the way she knew you liked and the way that had you weak on the knees. She slid her human hand down your torso, playing with the hem of your pants, and you moaned when she entered it.

"He didn't want you like I want you, doll." You turned your head to her, chasing her chipped lips and kissed her roughly, full of teeth, bites, saliva, and desire for each other. You felt like floating and being pulled down to earth too fast, moaning loudly and trembling on Sevika's hands.

Even though you two had broken up once, no one could make you feel that way like Sevika could. She was right, that man didn't know you or your body, kissed and touched you like she does. That man was nice and all, but nothing compared to having her loving and wanting you the way you deserved. Nothing compared to Sevika making you cum in a dark, dirty alley in Zaun only with her fingers.

She broke the kiss, saliva connecting your lips, and her blown grey eyes devouring you while her hands did you the way you liked, wanted, deserved, and yearned. "He didn't love you like I do, doll. And you know nobody else is gonna love you like me."

"Only you, vika. Only you can me feel this way." You moaned against her lips, clinging to her body as her fingers made you come with a shiver and blown puppy eyes to her.

"Fuck, woman, just accept that you're mine and I'm yours forever. Just let me love you again and make up for the last time, doll." She promised on your lips, removing her hand out of your pants and grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and mouth. She pushed you two against the wall, towering over you as she kept her eyes on you and kissed you like she fucking missed doing so. "I fucking love you, doll. Tell me you love me too."

You locked your arms behind her neck, pulling her in, and devoured her like you had been starving for too long. "I love you, vika... I'm yours. Only yours. Forever yours, Sevika." She mumbled a "my girl" and pulled you out of the alley, guiding the way to the place you missed so much and called home.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[k1mbe3rly]

can you write a daeho smut where hes upset and gets hard while reader is comforting him then said reader makes him jerk off in front of her? then maybe after theres more smut with him as the sub? SORRY THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST IDK IF IM DOIGN IT RIGHT

ngl this is so creative that i’m doing it right after writing hella 😈😈 lowkey seeing the image of it 😩

Comfort took a wrong turn (i had no idea what to name this😢)

warnings: Smut, sub!dae-ho, lowkey some reason getting turned on, gentle fucking, praising

You’ve been noticing Dae-ho flinching or getting nervous every single time he hears a gunshot, you knew he was an ex marine so maybe he had trauma? your not sure.

Whenever they were gonna go shoot the guards to get to the control room , Dae-ho decided to stay back, after awhile he had heard a ton gunshots, he covered his ears, shaking in his bed

You had went up to him and crawled next to him, you looked at him in a bit of concern, “I’m sorry! i’m so sorry.. i just can’t do this! the gunshots!” he whimpered out, his hands shaking still covering his ears as he shut his hair, “it’s gonna be okay..i promise, nothing is gonna happen to you if just stay here okay?” you said hugging him

Even tho his ears were covered he can still hear you but just a bit muffled, he finally put his hands down, still shaking he slowly wrapped his hands around you as well, “Y/n..it won’t stop! im sorry.” he whispered, you stroked his hair a bit, he leaned into your touch, allowing you to stroke his hair, “Shhh.. it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, do you trust me?” you say back to him

He looks up at you a nodded, you get a little bit closer your hands wrapped behind his neck and one hand still stroking his hair, your body was against him, he barely realized and his body begins feeling a bit hot, his cheeks were burning up as well as he looked down as your body, your boobs slightly pressed up against his shoulder

He begin feeling really hot and looks down and notices he has a bulge in his pants. He gulped as his adam’s apple bounced along his gulp, “It’s gonna be okay dae-ho, just don’t focus too much on the sounds okay? focus on me for now” you whispered as he nodded, he slightly moved you to be infront of him so kinda on his lap which you didn’t mind, you kept hugging him as he begin rubbing and down your back, he was thinking about many lewd thoughts about you. He shut his eyes as bucked his hips, you felt him did so, as you backed up a bit in confusion and looked down noticing he was hard

He quickly flushed in embarrassment and tried hiding his bulge, “i-i’m sorry! i couldn’t help it.. you were just so close to me and-“ he begin quickly explaining but you cut him off with a chuckle, “You got hard from me basically trying to comfort you?” you spoke, he nodded , “That’s..that’s kinda pathetic” you said while sitting on his lap on his bulge, he let out a whine “I-i know i’m sorry! i couldn’t help it i promise it won’t happen again!” he quickly said “Yea..make sure it doesn’t. But for now i want you to take off your pants okay?” you said rubbing his cheek as he quickly nodded

You got up sitting on his legs instead of his lap, he pushed down his pants to his knees, His boxers strained with a small wet spot, his cock slightly twitching in his wet boxers, you smirked at him, “Good boy.. now take those off as well”, he chuckled nervously at the praise but quickly listen shoving them down to his knee, his cock was spilling pre cum as the cold air that hit his cock made him shiver, “Stroke yourself for me” you said simply, he looks at you with puppy eyes, just like a puppy he quickly follows your orders

He begin stroking himself, his hands going up and down his cock, his breath hitched as he looked down at his cock than back at you, he kept going small whines falling out his mouth, you smirked at him as you bit your lip and continued watching, feeling your pussy slightly throbbing, your desire to make him moan out your name but you wanted to wait, he continued stroking himself as moans begin falling out

He went faster, his cock twitching a bit, you traveled your hands under your pants and slightly rubbed yourself at the sight of him, he made a small gasp when he saw you, he kept jerking himself off and while a loud whine he came, his cum spilling over his hand as he panted, he shut his eyes a bit before looking at you, you had took your hands out of pants, “Wow..what a performance you can put on” you said quietly, “C-can i fuck you? please? i-i wanna be inside you!” he said breathlessly, you chuckled a bit and got closer

“Are you able to handle it?” you questioned him, he quickly nodded, “Yes! yes please.. im able too!” he said looking like a puppy who’s tail is wagging, he slowly got on top of you placing you down on the bed gently

he begins taking off your pants and panties, he looks at your cunt which was soaking wet, he smiled a bit as he spread your, he then placed himself between your legs, grabbing his cock a bit and lining himself on your entrance, “Are.. are you okay with this?” he gently asked, you nodded, he then begin pushing his tip in as he moaned at the warmth feeling, he pushed in nice and slowly making sure he doesn’t hurt you, once his full length was inside you he gently asked you “Does it hurt?”, you shaked your head “No” you simply said as he nodded, “Okay ima start moving..” he said as he slowly pulled back and begin thrusting into you gently making sure not to go too rough or too fast

you moaned softly as he leaned over you, his face in your neck and his hands on each side of your head, he moved his hips nice and slowly, “Yea..just like that baby, nice and slowly” you spoke softly as he shivered, your hands went to his hair slightly gripping it as he kept pushing into you in and out, you kept moaning softly “A-am i doing good?” he questioned, “Mhm..your doing just good baby, so good, what a good boy..” you spoke softly as his cock twitched when you called him a good boy, he tried hiding his big smile against your neck as he kept thrusting into you, his cock hitting deep and into the spot that makes you cum, “Yea~ right there baby, keep going..” you moaned softly as he nodded and kept hitting that exact spot, your orgasm approached as he kept hitting your g spot, “Shit baby- i’m gonna cum~” you moaned out as he tried going a bit faster making you cum quickly, you moaned out as you cummed, a white ring line formed, he stopped and looked at you with pure love, even tho he barely knows you, you looked back at him and smiled warmly

“i-i think i’m in love with you..” he said blinking at you as you chuckled and shaked your head

[just-some-random-blogger]

I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?”

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[hanniebaeee]

Wrong Chat?

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: None!

Genre: Best friends to lovers, flufffff, texts

Summary: Hyunjin, your best friend, drops you off for a coffee date with your colleague Mingyu. It's not a date at all, but Hyunjin thinks it is. And he rants in the wrong group chat - completely jealous and unhinged.

a/n: Wanted to make a Clueless series! Thoughts?

Part 1 - Clueless!

Hyunjin sighs dramatically as he flops onto the couch in his apartment. He's been pouting ever since he'd dropped you at the cafe where you're meeting Mingyu, your colleague for coffee.

Hyunjin: I’m actually losing my goddamn mind.

Hyunjin: She’s out with him. With. Him.

Felix: Hyunjin, it's just coffee.

Hyunjin: OF COURSE IT'S NOT JUST COFFEE, FELIX.

Chan: Oh no🙄

Minho: Here we go. Someone hold his leash.

Hyunjin: This is NOT good. Mingyu is - he’s like…

Jeongin: Are you okay bro?

Hyunjin: I AM NOT OKAY.

How is he supposed to be ok when you, the love of his life is out with some guy for "coffee"? Jisung had taken a girl out for coffee a few weeks ago, and now she's his girlfriend.

Hyunjin sighs. He couldn't think of you being anybody else's. You're his girl. And he's gonna win you over.

Meanwhile, you are sitting across from Mingyu, discreetly checking your phone as it buzzes repeatedly with notifications. You freeze when you see the texts. 

Oh, so this is why Hyunjin was in a bad mood the whole morning, you think. He barely said a word to you as he drove you to the cafe. 

Changbin: Dude, calm down. It’s just coffee.

Hyunjin: COFFEE LEADS TO DINNER, DINNER LEADS TO NETFLIX, AND NETFLIX LEADS TO YOU KNOW WHAT. ASK JISUNG.

Jisung: HYUNJIN.

Felix: 😳

Minho: Jisung you sly dog.

Chan: Hyunjin, touch some grass.

Hyunjin: I CAN’T, CHRISTOPHER. SHE IS MY GRASS.

Minho: Let it all out. Keep going.

Chan: Hyunjin. Deep breaths. IN through your nose, OUT through your mouth. 

Hyunjin: I SWEAR TO GOD IF HE LAYS A FINGER ON HER

Changbin: I don't think he's laying anything on her. 

Felix: Okay, Hyun, you need a time-out.

Hyunjin: No, what I NEED is for Mingyu to trip over his stupid perfect legs and fall face-first into a compost bin.

Mingyu smiles at you across the table, gesturing towards his laptop as he speaks. You are trying so hard to focus on the ideas he's laying down in front of you - the startup ideas that you two have been talking about forever. You smile back, nodding, while trying not to choke on your laughter.

Jisung: Stupid perfect legs? Hyunjin, why do you even know what Mingyu’s legs look like?

Hyunjin: Because I have eyes, Ji. I pay attention to the threat level.

Hyunjin: He's like 6 feet tall.

Jeongin: Threat level: Sexy. 

Hyunjin: THANK YOU, JEONGIN. No one asked you.

Chan: You're tall enough

Hyunjin: Not enough apparently

Felix: Hyunjin, calm down.

Hyunjin: No, because LISTEN. Who does he even think he is. Asking my girl out. How dare he. 

Hyunjin: SHE’S OUT THERE WITH HIM WHILE I’M JUST

Changbin: Lonely and deranged?

Hyunjin: EXACTLY.

Seungmin: Someone hose him down 

You are trying to concentrate on the graph Mingyu is pointing to now, but seriously, who are you even kidding. Your cheeks are warming up with the second-hand embarrassment from what's brewing on the group chat.

Hyunjin: And do you know what really sucks? She’s probably looking AMAZING right now. Like, how does she do that? How does she leave the house and make everyone fall in love with her?!

Hyunjin: And doesn't even realize that I love her? She obviously doesn't! Like I'm right here.

Jisung: Why don't you just corner her in the supply closet?? Omg I never thought I'd get a chance to give that back to you 🔪

Hyunjin: Bro. She's my best friend. It isn't the same.

Jisung: Excuses excuses

Felix: Oh SHIT. 

Felix: 🚨 STOP 🚨

Jeongin: Wait, what chat is this 👀

Hyunjin: What do you mean what chat?

---

Hyunjin goes quiet for a second.

---

Hyunjin: Wait.

Hyunjin: WHAT CHAT IS THIS???

Chan: You absolute clown.

Felix: I tried. 

Minho: LMAO

You: Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Y/N. Baby. Light of my life.

Y/N: Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re picking me up in 20 minutes. And we're gonna talk.

Hyunjin: Ok. Yes. Ok.

---

Hyunjin was still typing and you were about done with this. 

---

Y/N: Baby. Stop typing. 

Hyunjin: Shutting up now.

Changbin: She really did put a leash on him.

Felix: This is why I love her 😁

Y/N: And Hyunjin?

Hyunjin: Yes, angel?

Y/N: I love you too. 

Hyunjin: 😳😳😳😳

Hyunjin’s heart literally stops when he reads your text. You love him back. You love him back!!! He feels faint, his hands are shaky and he just needs to see you. Right now. 

Hyunjin: Picking you up now.

Y/N: Ok baby.

---

And finally, it was all calm again.

---

Chan: Well, at least we get a little peace and quiet now.

---

As you step outside, you spotted Hyunjin’s car pulling up, his face twisted in a mix of nervousness  and relief. His gaze immediately locks onto Mingyu, who waves goodbye. Hyunjin behaves just so that he can show you that he can be a good boy when he needs to.

You grin as you get into the car, and pull on the seat belt. When you look up at him, he's watching you eagerly, well he does look a little scared - like a child waiting to be scolded for doing something wrong.

“You ok, Jinnie?” You ask.

“Perfect. I'm perfect.”

You raise an eyebrow, fully aware of the effect you have on him.

“Is that so?” you purr, and Hyunjin gulps, as he nods.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking away. 

“You know,” you said with a sly smile, “if you had said something sooner, we wouldn’t have had to go through all this.”

Hyunjin’s face turns a sweet pink, and he can't help but smile a little.

“Can you say it again?” He asks. 

“Say what?”

“That you love me?”

You feel your own cheeks heating up as you your eyes meet. 

“I love you, Hyunjinnie. I have for as long as I can remember.” You whisper, and Hyunjin's head falls onto the steering wheel as he does his best not to scream out in joy. 

You giggle at his reaction and he looks at you again.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks shyly. 

“Yes please,” You say and that's that.

---

Hyunjin: Guess what, losers?

Hyunjin: WE KISSED.

Chan: Wow. Congratulations?

Minho: Was it a pity kiss? Be honest.

Changbin: I'm sure she did it to shut you up.

Hyunjin: It was magical.

Hyunjin: She looked at me, leaned in, and BAM. Fireworks.

Hyunjin: It’s what poets write about.

Jeongin: Or she just felt bad for you.

Hyunjin: NO.

Felix: Seriously, if you keep this up, she’s gonna see this and run the other way.

Hyunjin: She won't!

Y/N: Hyunjin.

Y/N: GET OFF YOUR PHONE.

Hyunjin: Ok bye.

Chan: Jokes aside, we're happy for you both.

Jisung: Of course we are

Minho: Y/N, sweetheart, get your man a collar

Y/N: Noted.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun

[miange1]

hi aaronnnnnnn😎

can you write the sully men smut having a reaction to those sex perfumes? ykwim?

like they already make humans feel weird but since na'vi noses are most likely more sensitive then i wanna know how they'd act.

male human reader btw 😋

Neteyam, Lo'ak, with pheromone "sex" perfume

male reader, mating cycle like symptoms, tails, sniffing, overprotectiveness, breeding, slight dirty talk, praise, begging, lo'ak prolly submissive idk, neteyam and jake are dominant, accidentally going too hard, aftercare, big dicks, they're blue, idk, im hungry, belly bulges

Neteyam

— it really was just supposed to be a harmless joke. Back at the lab you had just seen it lying around and thought to use it, just to make him more clingy or something like that.

— today was a day you weren't in your avatar, so you just stayed in till you were needed or till neteyam would come by and he usually did.

— you had almost completely forgotten you had put that on, the little bottle long gone in the trash.

"Paskalin!" your body jolted with excitement as you heard his voice, the heavy footsteps echoing through your ears as you smiled seeing his big blue body in the corner of your eye.

"Teyam," the moment he stopped foot inside, he stopped for a second, pupils going full as his nose twitched, and tail swished around. You looked confused, looking at him a bit weird. Was he okay?

— he would brush it off, his smile at you toothy as he crouched down next to you to hear about your day. but the whole time you were speaking, his breathing which was steady, started to become heavy and unmatched. his ears pinned down to the sides of his skull, and his eyes fixated on any open part of your skin.

— his vision would be clouded from the smell alone, and his actual words would turn into 'mhm' and then into low growls. it wasn't his fault, it was the smell and it was coming right from you.

"Nete?" your words were muffled and sounded underwater to him, he could only understand the fact you wanted to see if he was okay. but he blinked and you were underneath him.

"Teyam— slow down!" his eyes darted around your body, his full length thrusting in and out of you at a quick pace. his dick was so wet..had he already came inside? he couldn't remember.

his head ducked down where the smell was strongest, his nose twitching once more as he sniffed your scented skin. bright yellow eyes rolling back, his ears quickly making a small flap motion— like a cats.

"Oh eywa.." he mindlessly thrusted inside of you making sure you were spread and he could reach all the way in there.

— you remembered only after that it was the stupid perfume.

Lo'ak

— most sensitive out of the three, eyes dilated, tail swishing around knocking almost everything over following you around like he had no idea what he was going to do without you.

— he would make the excuse that you were his boyfriend, and that he just wanted to be around you at all times, yet you knew the perfume kicked in as is. he was getting more possessive than usual, not wanting you to leave his side whether you had to do your job or not.

"Lo, you have to let me—"

"Uh-uh.."

"Lo'ak.."

— you caused this, so you were going to be the one to pay for it. he was allowed to stay on the little mattress next to your work space, but he couldn't stop whining and squirming around. you hadn't minded it, till you noticed his shadow looming above you. you were fucked, quite literally.

he laid beside you, eyes hooded and looking drunk. his hand underneath your knee to prop your leg up so he could fuck you right, and another above your stomach just for the purpose of feeling his girth make an outline on your stomach.

"Feel.." he whispered, so fixated on how deep he was inside of you. your noises encouraged him to go quicker, trying to make you feel as good as ever, to pleasure you as best as he could.

the little 'ah, ah, ah's' and the clenching around him made him go feral. his heart was pumping so quickly as he caught sight of your expressions, eyes slightly crossing and uncrossing, drool leaking just a bit.

he just needed to reach a liiiiittle bit more, just a tinnyyyyyy bit deeper inside. his head collapsed onto your shoulder, his hips bucking into you as he came deep inside to fill you up to the brim. his slightly blue tainted cum spilled from your hole, his breathing erratic.

his eyes glanced over to your dick, noticing you hadn't yet cum.

"not done."

[yandere-wishes]

｡ ₊°༺ Pink Pony Club ༻°₊ ｡

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆Yandere! Dr Phosphorus x Reader ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

⋆.𝄞𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓟𝓸𝓷𝔂 𝓒𝓵𝓾𝓫 𝓑𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓡𝓸𝓪𝓷𝄞˚.⋆

✮★✮ Oh Mama, I'm just having fun, on the stage in my heels it's where I belong, down at the Pink Pony Club, I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club. ✮★✮

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He lets the music roll over him, allowing the drums to melt over his flames and bleed into the marrow of his black bones. When you dance, you have to focus on the turn out of each step, on the wave of your arms, when to stiffen when to loosen. It makes it all so easy to forget the pain of being constantly on fire. To forget the melancholy that festers inside you. When the adrenaline is this high, you can only make out the strobing neon lights and the dazed amusement of the crowd.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ It's hard to hate the music and the lights, to shy away from a crowd so easily fascinated by the gleeful macabre. It's really the most sanity-inducing thing you can cling to when your body has turned into the thing you once loved. When you've become your research after watching your old self die in a furnace at the hands of those who once wielded all the power in the world. Funny how we make our own monsters, funny how the thing that kills us, is nothing more than the very man we once tried to kill, now engulfed by his own invention. Phosphorus spins, left leg, right leg, jump, and twirl.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The dancing, the music, the clapping, the lights, it's all so perfect for melting away the terrible things that slither inside him, to burn away all those good memories until the kill and the luxury are all the remains. It's getting just too easy to forget his son's face, to forget the smile his wife gave him on their wedding day.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's a moment between moments when the world seems to stop. It's only then that he notices you, or rather notices what you're wearing. It's the dress he thinks, pink like the mushroom clouds he'd once adored, like the sunset framing devastation. Or maybe it's the way you have your hair so cruelly tied. Tight circle above your head like an atom waiting to explode. In a flash it's over, someone is handing him a drink. Another sitting on his lap. And he's thrust harshly back into reality, back to a world of trying to forget.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus is and always will be a man of logic. A man of science. He lets his fingers glide over the stack of pristine hundred-dollar bills. To think he'd spent his whole life begging for a quarter of all of this. Begging for scraps of funding to save the lives of thousands. It had all been so important once. Still, he can't help but let his mind wonder, what could he build with all of this? What could he solve, discover, create? He tells his men to lock it up in the safe, he's not ready to go back to all of that just yet.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The next time Phosphorus sees you, he's half sunken into the plush couch of the VIP lounge. It's been a long day, a long tough day. Everything had gone wrong and all so right in the same breath. This time your dress is the shade of clouds marred by the blood of a dying sun. He should know this shade from the history books he'd used to read, the shade of skylines behind ancient temples. Back then he'd been trying to understand. Understand what he's not quite sure, he'd been so desperate to pry every little answer from the world. To chew their solutions, breaking them with his teeth and spitting out his own variation, his own thesis. He'd been so utterly convinced of his own intellect, convinced that reading Saadi at the same time as the latest research paper on Nuclear decay meant understanding the world.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He watched with staunch fascination as you tried to dance. Following your friend's steps, heels stepping awkwardly completely out of tune. You bend your knees, sinking to the floor. And Phosphorus can't think of any excuses for why his cheeks feel hotter than usual. Why his eyes are permanently affixed to the sway of your arms.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He thinks you look just like nuclear fission dancing in the limelight with your friends. Like you've split your own body to create them. Little atomic nucleus dancing under his microscope. You look perfect, your toned legs amplified by the radioactive pink of your heels. Long neck he'd love to kiss decorated with a thin string of gold. You don't look a thing like the other girls at the lounge, you look like an experiment beckoning him, seducing him into cutting you open, and observing how you explode.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's been following you keenly, trying to see what happens next. It's the fourth week in a row that he's forgotten about dancing for the crowd, about the girls who used to hang off his arms. He's too devoted to this experiment. "Nuclear scientist finds atomic bomb inside ancient temple from the bronze age". Phosphorus examines the sway of your hips, the bob of your head, and the crude kicks of your legs. There's something wrong with those heels, they're too thin, too high, inviting everyone to stare at you. But he's quick to shove them away, circling you from afar. He can't let anyone tamper with his experimentation. Certain matter performs differently when it knows it's being observed. So he allows the notion of invisibility, making you feel unobserved, safe in your own ignorance.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He hasn't felt this alive in years. This ecstasy tastes utterly sweet, pure saccharine. It's the same thrill as watching your particles stabilize after days of trying to find the right frequency. Watching them organize into the right motion. And isn't that what you are? An ionized atom. After all, what is dancing if not ionization, if not trying to lose a part of yourself you can no longer bear?

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's late tonight, rivals had somehow bled in and were after the safe from Phosphorus' newest heist. He'd burned them to a crisp and danced on their ashes until they flew away. But that doesn't change the fact that he's late, too late in fact. When he rushes through the door, men nervously run behind him. His eyeless sockets fall upon an uttermost dreary sight...

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The problem with people is that they never truly appreciate beauty. They treat it as if it's something to conquer something to tame. They never bother to understand it, to study it from afar whispering prayers of gratitude for bearing witness to this new discipline. The man's body is too close to yours, head following your lips, as you awkwardly try to sidestep. The moment you try to flee he grabs your wrist. You scream, no one ever hears screaming through the bass and the rhythm.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's smoke in your eyes, sickly-sweet honey in the back of your throat. It's all too acrid but at least the hand assaulting your wrist subsides. The thing in front of you glows green, an acidic neon green that feels too familiar in shade. You watch as the skeleton seizes your shoulders, such a warm touch hearthlike in every way. He pulls you closer till all you can smell is null and all you can feel is smothering warmth.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never quite quiver under his touch, never fully shy away when he cups your jaw and tilts your head. It's like you want the radiation, want to feel his nuclear essence bleeding into you. Maybe then you'll be whole. Maybe then neither of you will need the music, and the lights, and the crowd to feel whole.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never belonged in the clubs, it was painfully obvious you could never mold to their dances, their music. Your heels never fit right. Phosphorous knows he's been trying to do the very same for all so long. Neither of you needed to kill off your electrons, to throw them away to ignorant nobodies who would sooner hurt you for their own voracious motivations. "Give me your electrons and I'll give you mine." Phosphorus tucks your head into the crux of his shoulder, "I'll fuse with you so you'll never need anyone else."

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus' hands mirror yours, swaying overhead before falling lower like the cascade of a wave. Side step, side step, stop, and bend. He thinks this is better than any club, any choreography he could do by himself. He feels so whole dancing only for your eyes. He feels so happy having you dance only for his eyes. Your palms touch as you circle slowly. Dancing like the airy rotation of electrons. There's no more dancing at the Pink Pony Club.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ What do you call a dance that feels like merging two atoms? What do you call it when your heart feels like the denotation of a bomb? He presses his lips to yours slowly, feeling the nuclei crash, a nuclear reaction, his tongue hum between your teeth endeavoring to melt away your fear. His fingers, dance across your hips heating up, leaving burning hearts and hand prints, claiming you as his, making you death just like him.

Lost the request for this but thank you so so much to the sender!! 💞💋💞💋

[embbarnes]

Goddd sorry this took me so long to reblog! I read this three times and I absolutely adore it. Dofp Logan is one of my favorite eras. I love his attitude and look throughout the film. I was so excited this was the version you went with!!

More below the cut 💕

“Don’t use so much force.” You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault. You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him. You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass. A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

This entire bit is perfect. When I was a kid, I had anger management problems. I couldn't really interact with a lot of people because of it so it made socialization hard for me. I really like how you wrote the reader in this one, I can resonate with them.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

Logan, I hope you know, if I had pyrokinesis...that's the first thing I'm doing.

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs. His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly. You're putty in his hands. “I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

SCREAMING at this part 😍😩 I love, love, LOVE how you describe smut scenes sm.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator. As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away. Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

YES....YESSSSS. I love when things like this happen in fics.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.” “It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—” You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over. “Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

I'm always a big sucker for love-hate or relationships where the pairing isn't super fond of one another at first. The tension builds so well and I love how you incorporate the mutation with their emotions. Because fire is incredibly emotion-motivated, so these little hints are absolutely perfect.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his. “Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

This would actually make me so mad if I was already irritated 😭 Logan knows just how to get under her skin lmao

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath. “Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water. It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

I really liked this bit. It begins to show more depth between the reader and Logan. I admire how you can subtly plant these little seeds throughout your fics, it makes them feel more immersive.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk. “I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble. “No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

You know, technically, she could harness the heat to make a new glass from scratch, Charles. I feel like he'd value something made like that. I can imagine the classrooms full of drawings by the children.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself. “I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—” “What is it?” you implore. His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs – “It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

This situation is 100% believable. Things like this absolutely happen and you set it up perfectly. I love the approach and how you describe the fog, how it effects her body and makes her feel all the things at once.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?” Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

Logan knows how to drive me insane holy shit.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist. He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink. As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

I can literally see his expression rn.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth. His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

This would drive me INSANE.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows. “S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.” You aren’t going to argue with that. You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices. “Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.” “Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—” He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

Girl you're literally killing me 😭😩

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

The sliver of scent I can get from him ughhh that's such a good combo.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath. “What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?” “No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—” “What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest. “I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.” You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more. “I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

LMAO this was so funny and such a good ending!! I loveeed this fic so much! It was so well done, just like all your other stuff! You did such a good job with the personification of everyone and I loved all the dialogue with reader and Logan.

Perfect, as always 💕

where the lines overlap

logan howlett x reader (dofp!logan x mutant!reader)

word count: 8.7k

summary: no one gets under your skin quite as much as logan howlett - and he knows it, too. sex pollen trope.

warnings/tags: 18+ only mdni, smut, sex pollen so dub con, frenemies to lovers? they aren't enemies but logan and reader don't really get along, reader is a mutant with pyrokinesis, reader is afab, reader is described as being smaller than logan, no use of y/n, wet dream, fuck or die situation, oral, pet names (bub, princess), brief pain kink for logan, unprotected p in v, cream pie

author's note: takes place after the events of days of future past - so everyone's alive, charles is old af, and logan has a pretty streak of silver in his hair. not proofread super well so please ignore any errors.

There's certain things that you like to think about when you're pissed off. It’s a coping mechanism that you learned in therapy at the ripe age of eleven.

Go to your happy place or whatever.

For you, that's the mansion's courtyard after a fresh snowfall, and having the library all to yourself on a rainy day, and the comfort of your bedroom on one of the rare days that you aren’t teaching, or training, or on a mission.

At this point in your life, you’ve forgotten just about everything you were taught in that therapist's office. It's not like you had wanted to be there, but your parents had been worried and scared – and rightfully so. With the unexpected emergence of your pyrokinetic abilities came multiple accidental house fires born out of preteen angst.

So they did the only thing they knew to do at the time – stick you in therapy in hopes you would acquire some anger management techniques.

These days, you have a pretty good handle on your powers. With a lot of time and effort, you learned to control them – and not just control them, but yield them in a beneficial and productive way.

All of that progress comes dangerously close to going out the window anytime you're in close proximity to Logan Howlett.

Maybe all is an exaggeration – but no one else makes your fingertips burn hot with fire that threatens to break through the barrier of your skin quite like him. From his bossiness to his arrogance and attitude, you’ve clashed heads since the first day you met him.

Today is no different.

“Don’t use so much force.”

You curse as the tip of the blade impales the target a whopping three inches from the center. By far your worst throw yet, though this one isn’t entirely your fault.

You snap your head towards the unexpected but familiar voice, pulling your last dagger from the holster secured around your thigh before chucking it in his general direction. It flies past him, bouncing off the wall behind him.

You knew that it wouldn’t actually hit him. And if by some miracle it had, he’d heal in two seconds and then go right back to being a pain in your ass.

A good looking pain in your ass, admittedly. But a pain in your ass nonetheless.

He looks at you with an amused expression. “See? Too much force.”

“I didn’t know that having giant forks for hands made you an expert on throwing knives.”

He exhales a breathy laugh, staring at you for several seconds before turning to pick the dagger up from the ground. He then proceeds to collect the rest of the knives that you had previously thrown from the body of the practice target.

In heavy silence, he struts over to you with the daggers in hand. He turns to face a wooden target board, finding the balance point of the knife before sending it flying through the air.

Bullseye.

“A long time ago, when I first joined this team, Charles made me practice a non-power related method of self-defense, too.” He pauses, lining the second dagger up with the practice dummy. To no surprise, it’s another perfect throw.

“Wanna guess what I chose?”

You snatch the remaining knife out of his hand.

“How to annoy someone by sneaking up on them and giving them unsolicited advice while they are minding their own business?”

You position your feet once again, holding the knife up in preparation to take aim. Your eyes dart back and forth between the blade and the target ahead of you. You hesitate, feeling nervous under his gaze.

Logan moves from standing beside you, to standing behind you. Your breath catches in your throat as his large figure looms over you. If he were to took a step forward, his chest would brush against your back.

He uses the tip of his boot to nudge your heel forward half an inch, adjusting your stance. He takes your right hand in his, and you have to consciously remind yourself to breathe.

A wave of annoyance washes over you that he’s able to fluster you so easily. It makes you as pissed at yourself as it does him. He’s barely touching you – his hand dwarfing yours is the only point of physical contact, but you’d think that he were pinning you up against a wall with his body.

You tell yourself the sudden light-headedness and increased heartrate is because of the newfound closeness, and nothing more. You’re used to being around Logan – the two of you live together and work together. His general presence is nothing new. But the intimacy of your current predicament is.

And maybe the fact that notes of tobacco and bourbon are infiltrating your senses doesn’t help.

“As unsolicited as my advice may be,” he says lowly as he pulls your hand back slightly, “I give it because if there is ever a situation where someone's trying to hurt you, and you’re unable to light them on fire for some reason, I would really hope that you could at least impale them.”

He tightens his hold on your hand, and then snaps both of your wrists forward. Surprisingly, your brain registers to release your grip just in time. When the tip of the blade impales the center of the target perfectly, he drops your hand.

But he doesn’t move from behind you.

“Much better. Now come back upstairs. Charles needs to see all of us in his office.”

••••••

You and Logan are the last people to enter Charles’ office.

Storm, Scott, Jean, Marie, and Bobby have all found places to sit throughout the small room. Logan chooses to lean against the door that clicks shut behind him, while you exhale in relief at the sight of an empty chair on the opposite side of the room, next to Marie.

“Ah, how nice of you two to join us,” Charles greets. “I was starting to think that Logan got lost on his way to retrieve you.”

You force out a laugh, earning a side-eye from Marie as Charles launches back into whatever he had been in the middle of before you two interrupted.

“Everything okay?” Marie murmurs to you. “You looked a little sick when you walked in.”

“Oh, yeah,” you shrug her off without looking at her. You keep your eyes on Charles. “Yeah, I'm just tired. Been training all morning.”

What were you supposed to tell her? That you were thankful to be wearing a tactical suit so that Logan couldn’t see all of the goosebumps that bloomed across your skin when he was practically breathing down your neck less than five minutes ago? Or that the walk back up to Charles’ office was filled with a loaded silence in place of your usual bickering and banter?

Marie might be one of your closest friends, and you trust her, but Logan is something of a fatherly figure to her. There’s no way you’re letting her hear those words come from your mouth.

You try your hardest to focus on all of the information that Charles throws at you. You’re all to leave on a mission early tomorrow morning. When he explains where you’re going and why, chills run down your spine.

Alberta, Canada – more specifically, Alkali Lake. All of your friends seem to tense up at the mere mention of the place.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the urge to sneak a glance to try to gauge Logan's reaction. You’ve never been to Alkali Lake before, and you’re far from excited about going – you can only imagine how he feels, given his history with the abandoned military base.

After no word of any activity surrounding the base for years, Charles had been made aware that the recent disappearance of a group of young adult humans had been traced back to Alkali Lake – to a modern day subsidiary of the group Weapon X.

The same group responsible for Logan’s skeleton being made from adamantium.

This, of course, is where all of you come in.

After a detailed rundown of the goals for tomorrow – the main one being safe extraction of the humans – Charles dismisses all of you to rest for the remainder of the day.

When everyone stands up, you finally risk glancing at Logan, but he’s already opening the door to Charles’ office and strutting away.

••••••

Thick stubble scratches your innermost thighs as sharp teeth and soft lips alternate between kissing and biting the sensitive flesh between your legs.

His face is covered in your slick from the three orgasms he’s already pulled from you with his tongue. He lays nestled between your legs, pinning you to the mattress beneath you. Your thighs rest across his shoulders, his hands splayed across your belly.

You're putty in his hands.

“I've gotta say, the sounds you make when you cum are way cuter than the sounds I'm used to hearing from you,” Logan muses against your cunt. His voice sends a vibration over your already overstimulated core.

You can only guess that the sounds he’s referring to are annoyed sighs and you telling him to shut the fuck up, but right now, you don't care enough to ask for any clarification.

“Yeah?” You yelp when his tongue flicks against your swollen clit. “Maybe if you spent less time pissing me off you’d get to—”

You're cut off by him plunging the tip of his index finger inside you. You writhe against him, your walls constricting around the digit.

“Less time pissing you off, more time letting you fuck my fingers and face. Got it.”

The slamming of a door somewhere outside of your room causes you to bolt upright in your bed.

You open your eyes to darkness except for the red glow of the numbers on your digital alarm clock that read 12:26 in the morning. Your heart feels as if it’s going to beat right out of your chest, and your skin is clammy with a thin layer of sweat. You throw your covers away from you in an attempt to cool yourself off.

“What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck—”

You whisper the three words to yourself over and over again until your breathing resumes a normal pattern.

You’re alone, of course. In the comfort of your private room, where you had fallen asleep several hours ago. The difference between now and then is an uncomfortable pool of wetness between your legs, soaking your underwear.

You can’t even recall the last time you had such a vivid sex dream. It felt utterly lifelike – you reach down between your legs, trailing your fingers over the skin of your inner thighs where you had felt his beard tickle and tease you.

How the fuck are you supposed to look him in the eye tomorrow, when you’re having to work together to rescue humans from Alkali Lake? How are you supposed to come up with smart-ass remarks for his endless taunting and teasing when you’re going to be trying your hardest to not replay the images of his hazel eyes looking up at from between your thighs?

“Get a fucking grip,” you whisper hiss to yourself.

It’s Logan. The same Logan who acted like he was too good to say more than ten words to you the first half a year that you were with the team. The same Logan that tries to get you benched for the dumbest, smallest reasons he can think of. The same Logan that condescendingly calls you kid or princess every chance he gets because he knows it gets under your skin.

You need a glass of water. And some fresh air, and a cold shower—

You start by picking up the pair of sweatpants that you’d discarded before falling asleep a few hours ago. You step back into them, deciding to trek to the kitchen for some ice water. Your mouth feels as dry as cotton.

As you approach the end of the hallway that leads from the team member's bedrooms to the kitchen, you hear the soft shuffling of footsteps and see low lighting that spills from the refrigerator.

As soon as you step into the kitchen, you come to a halt. You recognize the large frame standing in front of the open fridge right away.

Of fucking course it would be him. And of fucking course he wouldn’t be wearing a shirt.

You clear your throat to announce your presence, not quite trusting your voice to speak. He looks at you over his shoulder, a bottle of beer pressed to his lips.

You walk over to the cabinet beside him, keeping your eyes off of him entirely as you get a glass.

“What's got you awake at this hour?” He closes the fridge, leaning back against the edge of the countertop. The only light in the room now comes from the small, dim bulb above the sink.

If he only fucking knew, you think. If he only knew that the real reason you are out of bed right now is because you’d just woken up from an extremely graphic, jarring dream of you riding his face.

You fill the cup up with cold water from the kitchen sink and take a large swig before once again turning to face him.

“Could ask you the same thing,” you answer with a vague gesture to his half-dressed form and beer bottle.

He takes in your appearance, too. His eyes trail from your exposed feet, to your baggy sweatpants, and up to your even baggier t-shirt before settling on your face. You feel particularly vulnerable under his gaze right now. You compare how you look to how he looks – with his stupid abs that look like God himself chiseled them from stone and his sweatpants that hang just a little too comfortably.

You sip on your water just to keep from biting your lip.

“Guess we were both thirsty,” he shrugs as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Guess so,” you hum, and because you don’t want to fall into an awkward silence and it’s the only thing you can think to add, you say, “Nervous about the mission?”

His expression darkens and posture tenses at your question. “I am,” he admits. “And if you knew as much as I do about that place, you’d be nervous, too.”

You huff. Your grip tightens around the glass in your hand at the mere insinuation that he knows your feelings. “Who says that I’m not?”

“If you’re going, you’re not nervous enough.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You take a deep breath, knowing damn well the direction that this conversation is headed. You’d heard it all from him before – anything to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Of course I’m going, Logan. Whether you think I’m good at it or not, it’s my job.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good at your job. It’s about experience—”

You laugh, cutting him off. You can feel the telltale warmth of fire beginning to form beneath the tips of your fingers, your irritation threatening to bubble over.

“Experience?” you exclaim. “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been with this team for three years now? Just because I’m not two hundred years old like you doesn’t mean that I don’t have experience.”

“I’m very aware of how long you’ve been with this team, bub,” he says calmly, which makes you all the more heated.

“For three years you’ve spewed every bullshit reason you can think of to keep me on the sidelines,” you laugh. “I wish you’d fucking admit that you just don’t like me. It’d be a lot more respectable than acting like you’re worried about—”

Logan’s gaze drops to the glass in your hand, making you come to an abrupt pause. You follow his stare, realizing that you’ve managed to melt the glass where your fingertips grip the glass. Water begins to leak out from the holes, spilling onto your sweatpants and the floor below you.

There’s no visible flames emanating from your fingertips. Your anger hadn’t progressed to full on fire, just intense heat, but still. No one else makes you come as close to losing control as him.

No one. And he seems to know it, too. You can tell by the smug look on his face.

You dump what little liquid is left into the sink before chucking the distorted glass into the garbage.

You start to storm past him, to get away from him and go back to your room without another word, when he grabs you by the wrist. You look at him in bewilderment – this is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he has held your hand in his.

“Didn’t know you were so hot and bothered over me,” he says with an amused smirk.

You rip your hand away from him, an exaggerated look of disgust on your face. Your recent dream pops into your head and you have to remind yourself that he’s not Jean or Charles – he can’t read your mind.

“You're lucky that you've got those handy healing powers,” you spit as you once again begin exiting the kitchen. “If I thought there was a chance of it actually shutting you up, I’d burn more than just Charles’ vintage glassware.”

You hear him say your name, but you’re already speed walking back to your room and playing your list of happy place thoughts on a loop in your head.

The soup that Storm makes when everyone at the school seems to get sick at the same time. One of your younger students picking you a flower. The smell of fresh laundry, the crisp pages of a new book.

Finally, your bedroom door clicks shut behind you.

You would have been better off just enduring the discomfort of a dry throat, you think. You don't know what's worse – not being able to sleep because you're rattled from a wet dream about him, or not being able to sleep because you've once again allowed him to get under your skin.

You crawl back under your covers, hoping that when you close your eyes, you don't see his face again.

••••••

Logan doesn’t make any more appearances in your dreams for the rest of the night, but that doesn’t stop him from being the first thing you think of when you open your eyes in the morning.

And as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, the only thing on your mind the entire flight from New York to Alberta.

From the tension that filled the air when he corrected your knife throwing technique yesterday morning to the warmth of his calloused hand when he grabbed you by the wrist in the kitchen last night, you're fighting a losing battle with no one but yourself.

As far as you can tell, he’s utterly unaffected. The fact that he chose to sit directly in front of you on the jet instead of any of the other empty seats says as much.

Not even ten minutes into the flight, you're staring at the tufts of his hair and his broad shoulders when you have to remind yourself that there's two telepaths occupying this jet with you. Though you trust both Charles and Jean to not read your mind without cause, the mere possibility of either one of them accidentally tuning into your thoughts and seeing a replay of your most recent dream or hearing you think about what it would be like to tug on those stupid fucking tufts of hair that resemble kitten ears is enough to mortify you.

You find yourself grateful that you brought a book and headphones with you to distract yourself for the duration of the trip.

An eerie feeling creeps into your bones as soon as you step onto the hanger of the jet. You can’t deny that the scenery surrounding the military base is beautiful – from the snowcapped mountains to the frost covered lake, it’s picturesque. But then your gaze settles on the large dam, and you remember what lies beneath.

“Can't say that I've missed this place,” Logan grunts, drawing your attention to him. His face is impassive other than his mouth being set in a hard, straight line as he stares out towards the water.

It's rare for Logan to elicit feelings outside of burning irritation (and maybe, possibly, sometimes arousal) from you – but right now, there’s a part of you that wishes the dynamic between the two of you were different.

As much as he infuriates you, you still care about him. You wish you could say that you didn’t, but the fact that you feel the urge to reach out and give his hand a reassuring squeeze makes that pretty hard to deny.

That urge dissipates as quickly as it comes over you. The bitter chill of the mountain wind and your teammates voices pull you back to reality. You awkwardly fiddle with one of the daggers strapped to your thigh instead.

“Jean and Scott, the two of you take the west side of the building,” Charles instructs when the group nears the discreet entrance. “Bobby and Rogue, clear the east wing. Storm and I will be keeping watch outside to make sure that no one tries to escape with the humans.”

“What about us?” you ask with a slight nod towards Logan. The fact that neither of you had been given instructions yet leaves it to be assumed that you’ll be paired up together.

You and Logan working as a pair was nothing out of the ordinary, and although that typically comes with a lot of annoyance, right now you can’t help but feel a little relieved by it.

Even if you are still irritated at him for his behavior and choice of words in the kitchen last night and even if you do think of him between your thighs every time you look at him for more than five seconds, he’s still more familiar with this place than anyone else here.

And no matter how much he makes you want to tear your hair out, there's never a time that you feel unsafe when he's near.

“You and Logan are to inspect the basement,” Charles answers. “I trust that you can refrain from melting any antique personal property until we are back at the mansion, my dear,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“I was planning on paying you back for that,” you mumble.

“No,” Charles sighs. “You weren't. It was very expensive.”

Logan snorts, earning curious glances from everyone other than you and Charles. He does get a nasty side-eye from you – a silent promise to deliver on last night’s threat to find something to burn other than vintage glassware.

Your teammates split up into their respective groups upon entering the base, leaving you to follow Logan's lead towards the lower levels.

It’s unsettling just how silent it is. The only sounds are that of yours and Logan's boots against the ground. You'd be able to hear a pin drop from across the building.

And it's cold. The kind of cold that makes your bones ache. You instinctively flex your fingers, focusing on the warmth that radiates from the tips.

As the two of you make your way through the dark, seemingly endless basement, checking each room for signs of life, you can't help but think of Logan being here under much different circumstances.

You don't know the full extent of his time here – even he only remembers bits and pieces. But you know enough to know that this can’t be easy for him.

The fact that he's being uncharacteristically quiet only reaffirms that. He makes none of his typical taunts and jabs, only speaking when absolutely necessary.

You find yourself damn near wishing he’d make some snide comment about how you’re walking too loudly and how being partnered up with you feels like babysitting duty – if he did, maybe then you wouldn’t feel this annoying, persistent worry over his mental well-being.

“Logan,” you begin quietly as the two of you approach a large set of hospital style double doors at the end of a corridor. “I know being here can't be easy for you. I'm sorry that you have to be.”

He huffs a laugh under his breath, not meeting your eyes as he slowly pushes one of the doors open, peaking into the room before stepping inside and holding the door open for you.

“Just part of the job, bub,” he sighs. “I know what I signed up for.”

You enter, walking past him into the dark room. You shine your flashlight around the cramped space. Right away, you can tell that it’s vacant, as all of the other rooms you’ve checked have been. But it’s different – whereas most of the rooms have been completely empty, this one contains multiple twin sized beds. No frames, no pillows, just plain white sheets on each one.

“I know you do. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and he shines his own flashlight around the room from right behind you.

“It’s okay, princess,” he snorts. “I’m a big boy. You don’t gotta pretend to be worried about me.”

Princess. Your fingertips tingle as soon as the pet name leaves his lips.

“I’m not pretend—”

The sudden, loud clicking of a deadbolt echoes through the room, silencing you. You and Logan stare at each other for a brief moment, startled and confused, before he turns around and pushes on the double doors to no avail.

He slams the full weight of his body against the metal, but it doesn't budge.

“What the fuck,” he growls in between repeated strikes against the doors.

“Logan and I are locked in a room in the basement,” you say as you click on the communication device in your left ear. “The door automatically locked after we came inside. We can’t get it open—”

You’re met with white noise.

“My fucking comm isn’t working.” Panic begins to set in as you yank the device out of your ear to inspect it. There’s a small green light indicating that it is on, but for whatever reason, it isn’t getting signal.

“Scott? Storm? Can anyone hear us?” Logan says as he messes with his own communication device. “Nothing,” he grunts after a moment of silence.

“Professor? Jean? If either of you are listening, now would be a great time to poke around in our brains and let us know.”

Nothing indeed.

“Okay,” Logan says as he backs away from the double doors. “Blast them.”

“Blast them?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “They’re industrial metal doors. They’re like two feet thick. These walls are made out of concrete.” You bang your first against the rock solid wall for emphasis. “What the fuck do you think fire is—”

“I don’t hear you suggesting anything!”

“How about not setting the room we are trapped in on fire? Only one of us has regenerative—”

A loud hissing noise sounds from above, causing you and Logan to both point your flashlights up towards the ceiling. You squint, trying to make sense of what you’re seeing. Large vents make up well over fifty percent of the ceiling, releasing what appears to be a fog like substance. It quickly transforms the air above you into one large, milky looking cloud.

“Charles! Storm! Scott – we need help. Quickly, we need help. I don’t know what’s going—”

You continue to shout into the communication device while Logan alternates between punching the door with his fists and throwing the full weight of his body against the metal, but all of your efforts are futile. The doors don’t budge, and you hear nothing but static from the comm.

You frantically glance around the room, looking for another escape route. There’s no other doors, and no windows. You’re completely enclosed by the four concrete walls and the impenetrable metal doors.

“Hold your breath!” Logan shouts as the fog descends upon the two of you, but it’s too late. The sickeningly sweet smelling mist encompasses you, making it impossible to see anything other than the thick silver vapor. It infiltrates your nostrils, causing you to gag. You cough, desperately trying to clear your airway of the substance.

It burns – your throat, your nostrils, your eyes and skin. Anywhere that it comes in contact with you feels like pins and needles.

You’re vaguely aware that Logan is somewhere to your left, asking if you’re okay in-between coughs and gags of his own. You can’t catch your breath well enough to answer him.

His hand clasps around the top of your arm. Your vision goes fuzzy and you collapse into him, light-headed from the profuse coughing.

“I think it’s dissipating,” Logan whispers in a strained voice, still supporting you so that you don’t fall to the floor. You risk cracking your eyes open the slightest bit, and realize that he’s right. There’s still a veil of mist surrounding you, but it’s no longer so opaque that you can’t see even two inches in front of your face.

You take deep breaths, making no effort to step away from him as you attempt to regain control of your breathing. Your lungs feel like they are on fire and your throat feels like you haven’t had any water in days.

“What the fuck was that?” Your voice comes out as a croak.

“Can you stand?” he asks you. You nod, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace.

As soon as he steps away from you to see if the doors are still locked, the momentary relief that you felt when the fog began to dissipate is replaced with renewed terror. The room, which was previously dark except for the light from your flashlights, suddenly glows a deep red color from the ceiling that now emits crimson fluorescence.

You open your mouth to call out for Charles or Jean again, when a throbbing sensation radiates throughout your gut. You clutch your hands over your abdomen, gasping at the sudden and awkward feeling.

Logan turns his attention away from the doors and back to you as soon as he notices how you’re hunched over. You stumble over to the bed that's closest to you, the world blurring around you in shades of red.

“Something is wrong,” you gasp out. You know you're stating the obvious – something has been wrong since the moment that the doors locked behind you.

He's next to you in two long strides, kneeling beside the bed and looking up at you in concern. The ache in your lower belly seems to worsen with his close proximity. Your skin feels feverish, making you want to peel your tactical suit off of your body.

“Tell me what you're feeling,” he demands. Other than obvious confusion and fear, he appears physically fine. You piece together that whatever that shit was, it’s effecting you much differently than it is him – undoubtedly due to his healing abilities.

You can't form a coherent sentence – all you can focus on is the way that the discomfort in your abdomen travels down to your groin, making you clench your thighs together. You have the inexplicable desire to reach out and pull him to you, as if having him as close as possible to you is the only solution for every uncomfortable thing happening to you.

“You gotta talk to me, bub. Tell me what’s going on,” he says when you don’t answer him. He puts a hand just above your knee and you have to hold back the whimper that threatens to break through your lips. He notices your pained expression and quickly withdraws his hand from your thigh.

“No!” you gasp, grabbing his hand in yours out of desperation to maintain some level of physical contact with him. “I – I don't know how to explain what’s happening. Just – I just need you to keep touching me. Please. Whatever that fog was, it’s making me feel like…”

You trail off, realizing that you must sound every bit as insane as you feel. You don’t know how to begin articulating what’s happening to you, because it makes no sense. When the silver mist first started to rain down from the ceiling, the last thing on your mind was Logan pinning you to one of these mattresses and railing you until you until you see stars. Now, you think that if he so much as stops holding your hand, you'll fucking die.

A look of clarity washes over Logan’s face – with a hint of something else that you can't quite pinpoint, too.

“I think I know what this is,” he murmurs. His stare is locked on one of the daggers strapped to your thigh. He squeezes your hand in his, though you don’t know if it’s to comfort you or himself.

“I’ve heard of this before. Didn’t know it actually exists. I came across it once when preparing a lesson on Alkali Lake—”

“What is it?” you implore.

His eyes finally flicker back up to yours. Images of last night’s dream flash through your mind again. Instead of his hand holding yours, you visualize his slender fingers pumping inside you. You stare at his lips, imaging the feeling of them sucking love bites into the meat of your inner thighs –

“It’s a chemical created for breeding experiments,” he answers after a pregnant pause. “They – Weapon X – wanted super mutants. Some of the subjects were… less than compliant. This made it so that they weren’t able to fight it.”

You let his words sink in. It’s not something you’ve ever heard of, but you don’t doubt that what he’s saying is true. How could you, with the way that your pussy is throbbing at the mere sound of his voice? Under normal circumstances, you might not read too far into that. But right now? On a mission, locked in a creepy basement, unable to get in contact with your teammates?

“Weren’t able to fight it,” you repeat slowly. “You're saying there’s only one way out of this.”

He doesn’t answer – just looks at you with sympathy. With pity.

“No,” you shake your head. You yank your hand from his grasp and move back across the mattress as the gravity of the situation hits you. To distance yourself from him feels like ripping air out of your own lungs, but the alternative is borderline unthinkable.

“I can’t – won’t ask that of you,” you declare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that laughs at you, as if saying it’s cute that you think you have a choice. The pain and longing grow with each passing second, threatening to consume you from the inside out.

“You’re fine. It would be different if it was both of us. But you shouldn’t have to do this just because you're stuck here with me.”

“Have to? You make it sound like it would be a punishment for me,” he chuckles darkly. He finally rises from where he had been kneeling next to the bed. He stands beside the mattress, looming over you in the maroon lighting.

“Let’s not overcomplicate this, princess,” he murmurs. He grasps your face in his palm and tilts your head to look up at him. His touch is a balm – it feels like running a burn under a cold stream of water.

“I'm gonna take care of you, and then you can go right back to tolerating my existence.” He runs the calloused pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip. Your eyes flutter shut, reveling in the sensation of the singular digit against your flesh.

“Besides, it’s not like you haven’t dreamed about this. Or were you moaning about someone else who just happens to have the same name as me last night?”

Your eyes shoot open at the revelation that not only had you said his name in your sleep, but he’d fucking heard you. And has the nerve to tease you about it at a time like this.

He's smirking down at you. His smugness irritates you often, but right now it’s enough to cause the tips of your fingers to burn hot. You jerk his hand away from your face, causing him to hiss when your fingers wrap around his wrist.

He chortles, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sensation. The reaction fills you with annoyance – of course he would have a fucking pain kink.

As much as it pisses you off, it also spurs you on. Blame the influence of the chemicals that you’re currently under, but the fact that he can so easily tolerate and even enjoy something that would have anyone else running in the opposite direction does something to you.

You’re past the point of finding it in you to care about consequences. You’re no longer thinking about how you’ll be able to look him in the eye when this is over, or how you’ll pretend like everything is perfectly normal when the two of you are back on the jet with your teammates.

Maybe you can fight this drug, or maybe he’s right and there’s no point in trying. Either way, you’ve decided that you're going to have him before you leave this room.

You drop his hand, bringing yours to the zipper at the neckline of your tactical suit. You slowly tug it downwards, gauging his expression as he watches you expose your chest and stomach.

For once, he’s all out of smart remarks.

A part of you feels a sense of satisfaction and wants to continue taking your time with undressing yourself, just to keep him looking at you like this – but every fiber of your being is screaming at you for more.

You waste no more time with shoving the restrictive Kevlar material down your arms, leaving you in only your bra from the waist up. Logan unfreezes at the sight, crawling onto the bed on his knees. You maneuver yourself so that you’re laying flat against the mattress, pulling him down with you.

He rips the fabric of your bra away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. He rolls it between his tongue and teeth, causing you to arch your back into his touch. Your legs instinctively wrap around his hips, pinning yourself to the mattress with his body. You mewl at the feeling of your pebbled nipple in his warm mouth.

His other hand attempts to free the opposite breast, but the fabric is too tight and restrictive. He let’s out an annoyed growl, pulling back to unsheathe his claws and snip the material in between your tits, letting them spill free.

“Hey! I loved that bra—”

Your complaint dies in your throat when he slates his lips over yours.

There’s nothing slow or sensual about the way that he kisses you. He slips his tongue past your lips, moving his lips with fervency and urgency – like he needs this as badly as you do.

You buck your hips up into him, desperate for any amount of friction. He grinds down against you, his erection evident even through the thick material of both of your tactical suits.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss to unzip your suit the rest of the way down. He peels it down your thighs, only stopping to discard your boots. When you’re left in only your underwear, he looks at you with a satisfied smirk.

“So, what exactly was I doing in your dream to have you saying my name like that, huh?” he asks as he toys with the waistband of your panties.

You roll your eyes, your patience growing thinner as the ache in your belly grows stronger. He can tease you about that all he wants when you’re back in the safety of the mansion, when you’re no longer under the influence of potentially life threatening chemicals and capable of thinking of a proper comeback.

“Shut up and eat me out.”

His smirk only grows, but he doesn’t tease you any further. He tugs your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He lowers himself onto his stomach, still fully dressed. Under less dire circumstances, you would’ve been eager to get him out of his clothes, too – but right now, your highest priority is feeling his mouth on you.

No wet dream could have prepared you for how euphoric it actually feels for his teeth to nip at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, or the way that his tongue draws lazy circles at your hole before his lips lock around your clit.

You writhe against him, chasing the release that you’ve been desperate for since the second the vapor first came in contact with your skin. He’s more than generous, expertly nursing at your swollen bud as he eases a slender finger inside your cunt.

One finger – that’s all it takes to feel your climax building, the coil in your lower belly tightening. You feel your walls pulse around the digit as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even try to hold back your cries and praises of pleasure, letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

When he sits back, his lips and beard glisten with your slick in the red glow that encases you both. You push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the zipper of his suit, antsy to shed his clothing now that your physical discomfort had been quelled – at least for the time being.

He helps you, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his undershirt over his head. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but never shirtless for you. You want to dig your nails into the planes of his chest, and run your tongue along the protruding vein that disappears beyond the waistline of his pants –

You undo his belt buckle and pop open the button of his pants before hastily yanking both his pants and boxers down in one movement. His cock springs free, bobbing inches before your face. You start to adjust your position on the bed – to get on your knees and take him in your mouth – when a low chuckle causes you to pause and look up at him.

“Nuh-uh,” he tuts, earning a confused pout from you.

“You don’t want me to suck your dick?” You ask with raised brows.

“S’not about me right now, bub. I said I was gonna take care of you, and that’s what I’m gonna do. Now lay back down for me.”

You aren’t going to argue with that.

You return to your original position on the mattress, pulling him down with you. He hovers above you, using one arm to support himself on the bed. He takes his cock in his free hand, stroking his length a few times before nudging his head through your folds until he’s lubricated in your juices.

“Don’t you worry, though,” he murmurs against your lips. He teases his tip at your hole. “If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I'll let you.”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtfu—”

He sheaths himself inside you, turning the end of your retort into a gasp. He fills you entirely, stilling to allow both of you time to adjust to the sensation. The stretch is damn near blinding, making your eyes roll back into your skull. You glance down between your bodies, halfway expecting to see him jutting out of your stomach.

He fucks you similarly to how he kisses you – like this is saving him as much as it is you. It's rough, and fast, and messy – and you dread the moment that it’s over.

No one has ever filled you as completely and perfectly as him. You don’t think anyone else ever will, again.

Each drag of his cock along your walls has you clenching around him, each time his head rams against your cervix you can’t help but cry his name.

He snakes his hand in between you, reaching down to where his body collides with yours. His thumb massages over your sensitive clit.

You rake your nails down his back and he hisses in approval, snapping his hips into you at a brutal pace.

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess,” he grunts before kissing you again.

You don't have time to overthink the sentiment before your second orgasm is washing over you. Logan cums as soon as he feels your pussy pulsating around him, fucking you until he's spilled every last drop of his warm seed deep inside you. When you're both finished, he stills inside you and rests his sweat-slicked forehead against yours as he catches his breath.

“You think it worked?” he grunts.

As if on cue, you hear the deadbolt unlock from the other side of the room. A second later, Storm’s voice sounds from your communication device that had fallen to the floor at some point.

“I don't feel like there’s a ticking time bomb inside my vagina anymore. So, I’d say yeah, it worked.”

He huffs a laugh, and then pulls out of you with a sigh.

“Logan,” you say, stopping him before he can pull away from you entirely. He stares down at you, waiting for you to continue.

You aren’t even sure what to say. Truthfully, you just weren’t ready for the moment to end and for things to go back to normal between the two of you.

“Thank you,” you spit out after a moment of loaded silence. “For… helping me,” you finish lamely.

“Don’t thank me, bub,” he chuckles. “It’s far from the worst thing that's happened to me in this place.”

••••••

You sleep the entire flight back to New York.

And as soon as you've showered and your head hits the pillow after returning home to the mansion, you sleep for another ten hours. Every time you wake up and think that you're finally well-rested, your body says otherwise and you're asleep again within minutes.

You wish you could say it’s a dreamless sleep, but that would be a lie. You see Logan’s face every time you close your eyes.

But it's different than the last dream you had of him. It isn’t images of his head between your thighs or his fingers slipping in and out of you.

It’s just.. him. His presence. The lingering feeling of his lips on yours, the light flavor of tobacco and menthol.

And the echo of the words he spoke as he teased you with the head of his cock and made you cum around his length.

“Don’t you worry, though. If you still wanna suck my dick when we get out of here, I’ll let you.”

“Fuckin’ ruinin’ me for anyone else, princess.”

When you wake, the ache between your thighs for him remains, despite the fact that the effects of the drugs had long since faded.

You know you shouldn’t read too far into words spoken while the two of you were locked in that room. But you can’t help but keep thinking that he wasn’t under the influence of chemical subjugation. Which leaves you questioning if he meant the things he said, or if he was just trying to lighten a scary, impossible situation for both of you.

You suppose there’s only one way to find out.

When you finally gather the courage the knock on his door, the sun has set and everyone has retired to their bedrooms for the evening.

You almost dash back into your own room during the few seconds that it takes him to open his door. He wears sweatpants, a plain black t-shirt, and a surprised expression.

“Hey, bub,” he greets you apprehensively. You don't normally make a habit of stopping by his room for late night chats. “Was starting to worry that you’d fallen into a coma.”

He opens his door wider, motioning with his head for you to come inside.

“Felt like it,” you give a small laugh. “Whatever was in that shit wore me out.” You take a seat on the edge of his bed, nervously wringing your hands together.

“You feeling better now?” he asks as he leans against his dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes trail over the large muscles of his chest and shoulders. The memory of his body caging you to the twin sized mattress in the basement of the bunker flashes through your mind.

You nod, hoping that it’s convincing.

“All things considered,” you shrug. “I just wanted to check in with you. Has Charles… said anything?”

What you're actually trying to ask is if Charles interrogated him about where the two of you were during the mission, why no one was able to contact either of you, and why you have been so exhausted that you've done nothing but sleep for the last day, but you trust that he knows what you mean.

“He hasn’t said anything, but..” he trails off, eyes darting around the room to avoid your gaze. “It’s Charles. Safe to assume he knows and is just being decent by not saying anything.”

“Right,” you murmur.

If he doesn’t already know, it's only a matter of time before you slip up and imagine the feeling of his lips on yours or the sounds of his moans in the middle of a mission debriefing.

“And the humans..? They’re all okay?”

“They are,” he assures you with a soft smile. “They’re all receiving medical attention, and most have been reunited with their loved ones.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “No thanks to us, I guess.”

“No,” he laughs. “I suppose not.”

He pushes himself off the dresser, walking the few feet to where you perch at the edge of the mattress. He sits down beside you, his thigh brushing against yours. He smells of Old Spice deodorant and spearmint toothpaste, and it makes you the room spin around you.

“But everyone’s okay. They’re safe. And you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak. He’s close enough that you can practically feel the heat from his body. You risk looking at his face, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

“Yeah,” you finally agree. “You’re right. Well, I’ll let you get some rest. I just wanted to check in with—”

You start to stand up, when he cups your jaw in his hand and pulls your face to his. He’s hesitant in a way that he wasn’t yesterday – he gives you the opportunity to pull away before he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip, as if asking for permission.

When you don’t give any kind of indication that you want him to stop, he pulls you flush against him and slips his tongue past your lips. You bring your hand to the back of his neck, twining your fingers through his hair.

He takes his time with you. Whereas yesterday’s kisses were filled with urgency and desperation, todays is tender and sensual. Now, you’re allowed the luxury of taking your time.

He lays down against the mattress, pulling you with him. You straddle his stomach, your lips never once breaking contact. His hands grip the globes of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat through your pajama pants.

You grind against the hard planes of his abdomen, earning a throaty growl from him.

He breaks away, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“I said something I didn’t entirely mean yesterday,” he whispers, out of breath.

“What?” you ask, sitting upright and looking down at him. “You aren’t going to let me suck your dick?”

“No,” he chuckles. “God, no. I meant that. If you still want to, that is—”

“What is it, then?” you interrupt with a playful nudge to his chest.

“I said you could go back to tolerating my existence. But I hope you wanna do a little bit more than just tolerate me.”

You laugh under your breath, leaning down to press your lips to his once more.

“I could see myself doing a little bit more than just tolerating you.”

oooops i accidentally wrote another fic where logan overhears something that he wasn't supposed to 😅🫠 did not originally plan for that to happen hahaha

check out some of my other logan fics -

by the end of the night

dog tags drabble

[woozinhos]

also... seungcheol make up sex.. because i can really see it he's taking out his frustration at you

You storm into the bedroom, your face flushed with anger. You can't believe the fight you just had with Seungcheol - it had been so stupid and pointless, and now you're both seething with frustration. Seungcheol follows you into the room, his jaw clenched tight with anger. "You can't just walk away like that," he snaps, his eyes blazing.

You spin around to face him, your hands clenched into fists. "And what do you expect me to do, huh? Just stand there and listen to you yell at me?"

Seungcheol takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "I expect you to be mature about this and have a conversation like an adult," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

You roll your eyes, feeling your anger flare up again. "Oh, because you're the epitome of maturity right now, aren't you?" you retort sarcastically.

Seungcheol's face twists in anger, and he takes another step closer, invading your personal space. "Don't talk to me like that," he growls, his voice a warning.

You stand your ground, refusing to back down. "Why not? You're treating me like a child," you say, your voice rising.

Seungcheol's eyes flash with irritation, and he reaches out to grab your arm. "You're acting like one," he snaps, his grip tight on your wrist.

Your heart is racing, and you can feel your anger giving way to something else - desire. Despite your anger, you can't deny the effect Seungcheol's dominance is having on you. You try to pull away from Seungcheol's grip, but he holds on tight, his fingers digging into your skin. "Let go of me," you snap, your voice shaking with anger and desire.

Seungcheol ignores you, his eyes raking over your body. "No," he says simply, his gaze lingering on your lips.

You can feel your breath catch in your throat as he steps closer, his body pressed against yours. You're so angry with him, but at the same time, you can't help but be drawn to him.

"You're such a pain in the ass," you mutter, trying to ignore the way your body is responding to his proximity.

Seungcheol smirks, his hand sliding down your arm to grip your waist. "And you love it," he says, his voice low and husky.

You try to protest, but the words die on your lips as Seungcheol pulls you closer, his body flush against yours. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady against your chest.

"Admit it," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You love fighting with me, because it gets you all hot and bothered."

You shiver at his words, your anger slowly giving way to desire. "Shut up," you mutter, but there's no real conviction in your voice.

Seungcheol chuckles, his hands roaming over your body. "You know I'm right," he says, his lips brushing against your neck. "You love the way I take control, even when we're fighting."

You can't take it anymore. The tension between you and Seungcheol is too much, and you need an outlet for it. You surge forward, crushing your lips against his in a bruising kiss. Seungcheol responds immediately, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. He kisses you hungrily, his lips devouring yours as he pushes you back towards the bed. You stumble backwards, your legs hitting the edge of the bed. You fall back onto the mattress, pulling Seungcheol down with you.

He lands on top of you, his body pinning you down as he deepens the kiss. His hands roam over your body, desperate and possessive. You can feel the anger and desire coursing through your veins as you kiss Seungcheol with a fierce intensity. Your hands fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Seungcheol's hands are just as frantic, his fingers tearing at your clothes as he tries to undress you. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck and chest as he helps you out of your shirt. You arch into his touch, moaning softly as his hands roam over your bare skin. You can feel his erection pressing against you, hard and insistent.

"You drive me crazy," Seungcheol growls, his lips finding your collarbone and biting down gently.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and soft moans as you continue to make out with Seungcheol. The air is thick with tension and desire, and all communication between you is reduced to heated glances and urgent touches.

Seungcheol's hands roam over your body, exploring every inch of you as if he's trying to memorize every curve and contour. He kisses you like he's starving, his lips claiming yours over and over again. You arch against him, your body craving more. You can feel the anger from earlier melting away, replaced by a burning need for him. Seungcheol breaks the kiss again, his lips trailing down your body as he begins to leave a trail of hot kisses down your stomach.

As Seungcheol flips you onto your hands and knees, you can feel your heart racing with anticipation. You're already aching for him, your body trembling with need. He runs his hands over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You look so good like this," he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

You can feel his eyes on you, taking in the sight of your body spread out before him. He runs his hands over your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he positions himself behind you. Seungcheol enters you in one swift motion, filling you completely. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your fingers digging into the sheets as you try to hold yourself steady. He doesn't give you any time to adjust, his hips snapping against yours as he begins to move. He sets a punishing pace, his thrusts hard and fast as he claims you from behind.

You can feel your body responding to him, every nerve ending on fire as he drives into you relentlessly. The anger and tension from earlier is gone, replaced by a primal need for each other. Seungcheol's grunts and groans mix with your moans, filling the room with the sounds of your passion. His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to slam into you from behind.

"You feel so good," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet for me."

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations. You arch your back, pushing back against him as you try to take him deeper.

"More," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need more."

Seungcheol pulls your hair back into a ponytail, gathering it in his fist and using it as leverage to pull your head back. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and you can feel your arousal spiking even higher. He uses his grip on your hair to control your movements, pulling you back onto his cock as he thrusts into you from behind.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You wanted me to take control, to use you however I want?"

"Yes," you manage to gasp out, your voice laced with anger and arousal. "Use me. Take me. Make me yours."

Seungcheol smirks, his grip on your hair tightening as he continues to thrust into you. "You're mine," he growls, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "And I'll do whatever I want with you."

Seungcheol pulls you up, his chest pressed against your back as he wraps an arm around your waist. He holds you close, his hand splayed across your stomach as he continues to thrust into you.

"Say it again," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm all yours."

Seungcheol's grip on you tightens, his arm holding you flush against him as he thrusts harder and faster. "Damn right you are," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "You belong to me. No one else can have you."

Seungcheal pushes you down onto the bed, pinning you beneath him as he continues to thrust into you with a ferocious intensity. His movements are fast and rough, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body tensing as you approach your climax. You arch your back, trying to meet his thrusts as you gasp for breath.

"I'm gonna come," you gasp out, your fingers digging into the sheets as you try to hold on. "Please, Seungcheol..."

Seungcheol leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Come for me," he growls, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Come on my cock, baby."

His words are all it takes to push you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your body shuddering with the force of it as you cry out his name. Seungcheol follows you soon after, his own orgasm tearing through him as he spills himself inside you. He collapses on top of you, his body trembling with the aftershocks of his release. You lie there, panting and trembling as you come down from your high. Seungcheol is still on top of you, his body heavy and warm against yours.

He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Damn," he mutters, his voice still a little shaky. "That was...intense."

You nod in agreement, still trying to catch your breath. Your body is still buzzing with pleasure, your mind hazy from the intensity of your orgasm. Seungcheol rolls off of you, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. He kisses your forehead gently, his touch a stark contrast to the rough way he had been handling you earlier.

"I'm sorry for fighting with you," he says softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. "I didn't mean any of the things I said."

You look up at him, your eyes still hazy with pleasure. "I know," you say, your voice soft. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean what I said either."

Seungcheol pulls you closer, holding you tight against his chest. "We really need to work on our communication," he says, his lips quirking up in a small smile.

[morikosa]

Not sure if I sent this already, but can I get teacher Gojo comforting a chubby student reader because she thinks she's unattractive and so he fucks her until she's convinced she's pretty?

Today was your day off, and Gojo wanted to take you shopping and out to spend time. The food part wasn't bad, of course, but you hated the clothes part.

You weren't very fat, of course, you were just a little chubby and insecure about it. Why was he with you when there were so many beautiful girls around?

It was a nightmare for you. You've been to many stores, but you really couldn't find an outfit that looks good on you or fits you perfectly. God, you wanted to cry. You chose a pair of lingerie for your last try. It was a blue color piece.

Gojo was sitting on the seat in front of the trial cabin, waiting for you with a smile on his face.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and your eyes filled with tears. This one wasn't too bad, but it was tight. You wiped your tears with one hand, and you walked out of the cabin with a deep, shaky breath. You wrapped your arms around your body

''W-what do you think?''

His eyes dilated under the blindfold. God, did you have to be this hot? He was hard the moment you walked out of the trial cabin in that outfit… and you don't think you're beautiful.

God, he could fuck you right now.

And he will.

''What do I think, hmm?… How about I show you this, baby?''

He stood up and pushed you into the trial cabin, closing the curtain behind him, and pressed you against the wall of the cramped trial cabin, his muscular body pinning your soft, plump one. One large hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense, lust-filled gaze.

"God, you are so sexy…" he purred, thumb brushing over your plump bottom lip. "No more of those sad tears, understand? You look fucking stunning in this lingerie. Like a goddamn wet dream come to life."

His other hand slid down to grope your plush ass, squeezing the supple flesh and pulling your hips flush against his straining erection.

"Feel what you do to me, princess? Feel how hard you make your sensei?" he said, grinding his clothed cock against you. 

"I'm not going anywhere until I've had my fill of this sexy little body. Now be a good girl and let sensei fuck you real good, yeah?"

''B-But we are in the-mph-!''

Without waiting for a response, he crashed his lips against yours in a deep kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim every inch of you. His hands roamed your curves greedily, groping and squeezing your soft tits, your ass, anywhere he could reach as he rutted against you like an animal in heat.

His intense blue gaze raked over your trembling form as he advanced on you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Nowhere to run now, princess," he purred darkly, backing you up against the wall until she was trapped between the cold surface and his hard, muscular body. "Sensei is going to take real good care of you in here.''

His large, calloused hands slid up your bare thighs, pushing up the short skirt of the lingerie. They dipped beneath the lacy fabric to grope the soft, plush flesh of your ass, squeezing and kneading the supple cheeks.

"Fuck, this ass is perfect," he groaned, giving it a sharp smack. "Gonna leave handprints all over this sexy bubble butt."

One hand moved around to slip between your legs, thick fingers pushing your panties aside to rub at your dripping slit. He could feel how wet she already was, how your pussy clenched and fluttered around his invading touch.

''A-ah~ S-sensei, please s-stop-nh~ Someone might see us~'' Gojo just chuckled darkly at your nervous protest, fingers still pumping steadily in and out of your soaked, gripping cunt. He leaned in close, breath hot against your ear as he growled,

"Who gives a fuck what anyone sees?."

To emphasize his point, he grabbed your plush thigh and lifted it to wrap around his hip, opening you up even more to his hungry touch. His other hand slid under your top to roughly grope and squeeze your tits, tweaking your hardened nipples between his fingers.

He captured your lips in another kiss, swallowing down your cute, needy whimpers and cries. Breaking away, he demanded loudly enough to be heard through the thin walls,

"Just take what sensei gonna give you, little girl. Gonna ruin this tight cunt so good~."

He grinned wickedly and undid his belt and shoved his pants down just enough to pull out his massive, throbbing cock. The thick head flared against your small entrance as he notched himself in position, the fat crown already drooling pre-cum onto your folds. Without wasting time, he shoves his cock to the hilt. You wrap your arms around the neck.

''Ah~hah~''

Gojo held you close as he rocked into you again and again, his strong arms gently cradling your soft curves. He bowed his head to nuzzle into your delicate neck, lips brushing against your racing pulse as he panted hotly in your ear.

"What a good girl you are" he praised, voice a low, approving rumble. "You're being such a good little girl for your daddy, taking this big cock so well. Fuck, your hungry little cunt feels incredible squeezing me like this."

He rolled his hips in a steady rhythm, the thick length of him stretching and filling you in a way that had you seeing stars. One hand slid down to rub slow circles over your sensitive clit, making your petite body clench and shudder.

"That's it, baby, fucking moan for me. Wanna hear those sexy noises while I breed this prime little pussy. Gonna pump you so full of cum, watch this flat tummy swell up with my baby."

Gojo pulled back a bit to admire your small body as it bounced gently with each forceful thrust. His intense blue gaze raked over your big tits, the way the lingerie had ridden up to put them on lewd display. He licked his lips hungrily.

"Look at these tits, baby, fuck. Perfect handfuls. Like a stress ball." He leaned down to capture one rosy peak between his teeth, suckling greedily as he continued his relentless pistoning into your clutching heat. The wet sounds of their coupling filled the small space, punctuated by Gojo's grunts and groans of pleasure.

Gojo grunted and shuddered as his orgasm crashed over him like a tidal wave, painting your clenching walls white with his thick, hot seed. He held you close, arms tightening around your small, quivering from

Your legs still around his waist and your arms around his neck. His cock is still throbbing inside you. After a few minutes, you ask nervously

''D-do you really think I'm beautiful, sensei…?''

Gojo leaned back to cup your face in his large hands. His intense blue gaze roamed over your flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and glazed with satisfaction. A slow, wicked grin spread across his handsome face as he murmured,

"Beautiful? Baby girl, you're a goddamn vision. The most gorgeous creature I've ever laid eyes on."

Nudging your nose with his own, Gojo captured your puffy lips in a deep, sensual kiss, pouring all his lust and desire into the intimate embrace.

''I love you more than anything, my dear. You are my everything.'' After breaking the kiss, he whispers breathlessly.

You were drowned with emotions… your lips were shaking. ''*hic* I-I love you too, 'Toru-sensei… You are so-''

Your eyes widened when you heard footsteps approaching. Unlike you, he grinned and giggled, shaking his head when he heard those voices. ''I guess we need to get dressed now, don't we, baby girl~?

[blueheron15]

CINNAMON

pairing: jj maybank x bsf!reader

summary: when you struggle with your eating disorder and body image issues, jj is always there to help you. cuz that's what best friends do... right?

warnings: flangst, ed

a/n: i rewrote this a million times but think i’m finally happy with it. if your struggling with something similar, YOU ARE NOT ALONE! my inbox is always open ♡

you stood in front of the mirror in your bathroom. you were in a cute, lose white tank top that stopped a few inches above your belly button and a short white skirt with little pink flowers scattered around. you made sure your thigh gap was visible, and the faint outline of some of your ribs. because in some, sick way you had wanted other girls at the kegger to ogle at your slimness.

something inside of you was wrong. very wrong. you were so put together. giggly. full of life. sometimes you even thought you were pretty. but in this moment, you wouldn't use any of those adjectives to describe yourself. you were so in your head. you were broken.

you hated yourself. maybe you even deserved the constant hunger pain. the dizziness whenever you stood, or moved too fast.

you had body image issues to the third degree, and developed an eating disorder at the ripe age of 13. sometimes you felt fine. normal. but other times, like this, it was hard to function.

bracing your hands against the counter, you inhaled a deep breath. you're okay. you're okay.

you slowly lifted your head back up, not wanting to look yourself in the eyes, but u were interrupted by a knocking at your bedroom window.

you were pretty sure it was jj. tucking your hair behind your ears, you padded over and a soft smile graced your lips as you were met with jj’s face on the other side of the glass.

he was in his usual attire- ripped tank top, cargo shorts, boots, and a backwards cap- as you opened the window and guided him in. he immediately flopped down on your bed and got comfortable on his back.

“how’re you on this fine evening?” he questioned in a southern drawl.

“all good in the hood.” you lied.

“yeah, well not for me. i was lookin all over for you dude! why didn’t you tell me you were leavin? woulda come with you.”

“first of all, get your shoes off of my bed.”

“yes ma’am.” he saluted, sitting up to take off his boots.

“and,” you sighed, opening a drawer to pull out your pajamas. you really did not wanna cry right now. but you could feel your throat pulsing and lips beginning to wobble. “i don’t know.” you mumbled. “i just don’t feel well.”

you quickly walked into your bathroom, closing the door shut behind you, wrapping your arms around yourself. “fuck,” you mutter under your breath, palming your face.

“woah, woah, woah.” you heard jj call as he scrambled off of your bed, standing in front of the door. he shook the handle, but it was locked. he moved to rest his palm against the door. “what’s wrong, bubba?” he asked softly.

you hiccuped at his words. it was the nick name you often used for him when comforting him after a fight with his dad, or cleaning up his cuts and bruises.

he called you the name too, in your vulnerable moments like this. while rare, he had experienced your break downs before. with him being the only person you could open up to without the fear of judgement.

at first, he would often get angry and frustrated. no one was allowed to think so terribly about his girl like that. not even herself. when he was there, he learned to gently coax you out of your thoughts, the only person capable of doing that.

“c’mon,” he gently prodded. “what’s goin on in that pretty little head of yours?”

you moved to sit on the toilet, pulling your legs up to your chest and resting your head in the crook of your knees as you silently cried. “don’t know.”

“don’t bullshit me, y/n.” he said with concern.

“i- god i just feel fucking insane! like, why can’t i have a normal time at a normal party with out comparing myself to everyone else? why can’t i eat like a normal person? like, i didn’t even wanna drink that much because i know i’ll get bloated. i c-can’t function sometimes and i know saying this out loud prob’ly makes me look crazy, even to myself… but i’m just so tired, jay.” you whimpered.

he was on the verge of tears himself as he leant his forehead against the door. he was just as clueless as you. he didn’t know why you always restricted meals, or often just didn’t eat in general. he didn’t understand how food genuinely tasted like ash in your mouth because it had become so difficult for you to swallow, metaphorically and literally.

he didn’t understand how you thought you were anything less than absolutely perfect. so he offered the only thing he could.

“i’m sorry, baby.”

“it’s fine.” you mumbled, defeated.

“it’s not,” he insisted gently. “i… i know i’m not your therapist or whatever. but i always wanna help you in anyway i can. so… please, let me in.”

your eye brows scrunched in confusion, thinking back to a minute ago when you basically poured your heart out. “i just did.” you said, confused.

“no, like, let me in.” he said, jiggling the door knob.

“oh,” you said, a genuine grin coming over you face. you reached over without fully sitting up and unlocked the door, which was open in an instant.

“c’mere.” he said, opening his arms and pulling you into a hug. his muscular arms providing a sense of home and security.

i’m so tired. you repeated. whether you said it in your head out loud, you weren’t sure. but regardless, jj caught you as you jumped up and locked your ankles behind his lower back, nuzzling your face into his neck and holding onto him just as tightly as he was holding on to you.

he buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and pressing kisses to your head, leaning against the wall as he held you up. “you’re good. i gotcha, mama. you’re gonna be okay.”

you’re not sure how long he held the two of you up, but you were dozing off as you played with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“alright,” he finally said, rearranging his grip on you and walking out of the bathroom. he placed you down on your side of the bed. “how’s this sound; you change into your pajamas, i make us a lil snack, and then we watch a movie, or go to bed. hmm?”

you nodded languidly. he snatched the clothes you had taken from your drawer off of your dresser- a lose fitted blue t shirt and a pair of cotton shorts, holding them out for you with one hand.

the other hand scratched at his eye. a nervous tick.

now, it’s not like he wanted to see you getting changed in this moment. but you are the leading star of his wet dreams….

obviously, though this was not the time. he knew that.

but the emotional toll of the break down and the psychical toll of you being hungry had run its course. you felt your limbs melting into the bed. so, with flushing cheeks, you asked him quietly. “um. can you…” you started, nodding your head to the clothes.

his eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he tried not to sound hopeful. “y’sure?”

“don’t wanna move.” you shrugged. you watched as a suggestive glimmer adorned his eyes. ah, jj maybank. ever the pervert. you kicked his shin with your foot.

“hey, watch it!” his voice rose an octave as he jumped back to defend himself “you just said you were too tired to move!”

“don’t be a perv, j. it’s the same thing as me being in a bikini.”

“not really” he mumbled, sitting down next to you.

jesus, you didn’t have it in you to fight anymore as you felt your eyes tearing up again. “whatever, i’ll just-“ you started, extending a hand to grab your pjs.

“hey, no.” he insisted, placing his hand over yours and gently putting it back on your side. “i’ll do it, y/n.”

you closed your eyes, leaning your head against the headboard as you nodded. here you were- offering yourself to someone so intimately in your most vulnerable state. and it wasn’t even about sex. jj had never experienced anything like you before.

his fingertips ghosted over the hem of your top. “arms up.” he whispered huskily, stripping you of your shirt. he let a hand gracefully fall on top of your stomach, lightly trailing his fingers up and down, his thumb sweeping over your side and your ribs. your eyes screwed shut impossibly tight.

a tear rolled down your cheek as you wearily opened your eyes. he was staring at you with not a pitiful look like you had expected. his expression was fairly neutral as he took it all in, but there was a hint of… love in his eyes.

he grabbed your ankles, threading them through your skirt, leaving you in a bra and panties. he then dressed you so delicately, his calloused and bruised hands juxtaposing the way he handled you in his arms.

“good?” he asked, smiling with pride at dressing you, giving your hips a squeeze. you nodded, then he rushed out of the room, promising to “be right back!”

he came back carrying an assortment of chips and some containers of fruit, placing them down on your nightstand table.

the two of you ate together for a while in silence, your room illuminated only by the movie playing in the background. you laid next to each other, shoulder and thighs touching. occasionally, when he noticed you struggling, he’d pop and raspberry into ur mouth and coddle you, using his fingers to grip you jaw and move it up and down, causing you to giggle and nearly choke.

after a while, with a mouthful of chips he said. “we’re basically married now, you know that right? like, all this shit i just did for you? it’s what fuckin elderly couples do for each other.”

you snorted. “yeah, right. ur not even my boyfriend.”

“well, can i be?” he teased.

“no.” you replied in a deadpan tone.

this was a common conversation between the two of you- best friends who were not so secretly in love with each other.

“fuck you.”

“fuck you.”

a beat of silence. you placed your baggie of chips on your night stand, and turned on your side to rest your head against his chest. “i’m tired.” you sighed. “thanks for helping me.” you murmured lazily.

“‘course,” he said, kissing your head. “g’night. love you.”

“love you too.”

[verstappentime]

From there, there's several more hospital pictures. Max can't picture sharing something so private. It seems like people are following along, though; all the posts have likes in the 5-figures.

There's several where he's just sitting up in bed, and a few of his leg, clearly badly injured: In a sling, in a full cast, in one of those traction things. One gruesome picture of pins in his ankle. He loves emojis, especially the kissy face one. He's upbeat most of the time, but Max can tell when things must have been really bad.

max/charles, 1.3k. it's 2017 and max finds out why he stopped hearing about charles leclerc. (part one?)

Max hasn't thought about Charles in a long time.

He's thought about him in the abstract, whenever he's coming out to someone new, saying, "Oh, her? I would not know, I'm gay." He's thought about being fourteen and unable to talk to Charles without a little secret smile, one he had to bite down. It's how he knew he liked boys for the first time.

But he left karting, and he went to Florida, and then he went to F3, and then to F1, and he left behind everyone his own age. He sees names he recognizes in F3, F2, but never Charles. He doesn't have time to wonder about it.

When he sees the Instagram post, he feels like a bird smacking into a glass window.

premateam 🚨 DRIVER ANNOUNCEMENT 🚨 Welcoming our 2017 F3 driver, Charles Leclerc. We always knew you'd be back, and we would be waiting. ❤️

Charles has done his hair short. He's grinning in the photo, flushed with happiness, leaning against a car with the number 16 plastered on. He's older, leaner. He's handsome.

charles_leclerc SURPRISEEEE! 😘 Better late than never. Three years ago I was learning to walk again. Today back in a single seater for the first time. Never give up ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for the opportunity @premateam

Max's pulse is thumping. Charles, who changed his life and never knew it. What happened to him?

He goes to the previous post. It's from a week ago: a picture of a crash helmet, red with stripes going up and over the top, white and a different shade of red.

charles_leclerc Dusting her off!!!! 🤫 Still fits 😝

He feels like he's missing way too much. He scrolls down rapidly, until the pictures start to wane in quality, probably taken on an older phone.

He clicks into one from 2015; Charles, in a hospital bed with a breathing tube in. He's younger, more like Max remembers him. He looks tiny. It twists something in Max's gut.

He swipes to the next one in the carousel; it's Charles sitting up in bed, dressed in a hospital gown, giving the camera a thumbs up. The third and final bit of the post is a video, Charles doing what looks like some sort of breathing treatment and waving to the person filming with a wink.

charles_leclerc Past week has been crazy… After seeing my car I'm just feeling lucky to be here… Thank you for all the support. Trying to get home soon, hard at work. Love to everyone ❤️❤️❤️

From there, there's several more hospital pictures. Max can't picture sharing something so private. It seems like people are following along, though; all the posts have likes in the 5-figures.

There's several where he's just sitting up in bed, and a few of his leg, clearly badly injured: In a sling, in a full cast, in one of those traction things. One gruesome picture of pins in his ankle. He loves emojis, especially the kissy face one. He's upbeat most of the time, but Max can tell when things must have been really bad.

charles_leclerc Goodbyeeee chest tube! You are not my friend anymore. One day at a time :) Means I get to go back to Monaco, can't wait 🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨

charles_leclerc New hospital & new hardware in femur ✅✅✅ This one hurts can't lie!!! On my way to a new leg though, so good news

charles_leclerc Hard week, bored. Surgery #5️⃣ tomorrow

charles_leclerc Gross right??? Robot Charles incoming

charles_leclerc Got to shower and wash my hair todaaay how does everyone think I look??

charles_leclerc Was supposed to go home this week but infection means I have to stay 👎🏼 👎🏼 Thanks to my brothers for brightening up my room though. @arthurleclerc good luck this weekend 😘

charles_leclerc Surgery #9, maybe the last one! Is that a lucky number??

Max isn't sure what his heart is doing. Twisting, maybe. Charles looks thin and pale in most of the pictures. They're dated weeks apart. He must've been in the hospital an age. Charles had only admitted that he was in pain once, but it had to have been– God. Fucking awful.

Max hasn't seen him since he was 14, but Charles was always kind to him. Sweet. Funny. He was angry when he lost, but only for a little while; he was back and offering to help Max load up his kart within a few hours, rattling on about what he did wrong and how it would never happen again. Usually, it didn't. He smiled like the sun when he won.

Max hurts for him. He should be in F1 by now.

In one post, Charles has taken a picture of a race he's watching on TV. He would have seen Max. He was a few hours away, on the track in Imola, and Charles was in Monaco, in the hospital. It's strange. They've been in the same world the whole time.

Max can't help smiling at his phone when he scrolls to Charles going home. He's in a wheelchair; he's in a different cast, starting under the knee. The next post in the carousel, he's in the wheelchair, reaching up to hug his little brother, who Max has met a couple times.

charles_leclerc Home 🏠 ❤️❤️‍🥰 So happy. Thanks to everyone who sent me nice thingsss got to open it all today :)

The next post is a video; Max ticks on the volume to watch. He recognizes some of the likes – one's Daniel.

The caption says "BEST DAY!!! Four months later!!! Feels like I won a world championship:)" It's an edit, set to 'Rise Up,' which is unbearably corny, but Max has lost God knows how much time catching up on the past two and a half years, and he's not going to miss a win.

The video starts with a clip from the day of his crash; then the clips Max has seen before, of him smiling at the camera; one of him sitting up in bed, hooked up to oxygen with a kind-looking nurse supporting his back, talking to him quietly; a couple of him with a surgical cap on, one where he's clearly hazy.

The video's longer than a minute, so Charles has split it into two parts. Max swipes to the next one.

This one starts with the music is turned down and the raw sound is dialed up. Charles is sitting on the edge of a bed, a nurse supporting him under both armpits and helping him stand. He's grinning right at the person filming; from behind the phone, a man says something in enthusiastic French.

Max's breath catches when Charles comes into the frame, navigating the hospital and then his house with a walking frame – he has some sort of brace on his knee and a walking cast on. There's some where he's gritting his teeth, some where he's smiling. Max isn't sure if he's playing to the camera. It has to hurt. Max doesn't need to know French to know how fucking happy everyone is to see him doing it.

They're getting to the end part of the song, where the lady's singing I'll rise up, for you, and all that. It should be silly, but Max doesn't care. It's good. It's good.

He hasn't even gotten to the best part.

In the last clip, Charles, tentatively, someone spotting him from behind, is walking, still with a heavy brace supporting his bad leg, but by himself.

Max hasn't seen him in three years, but he wants to hug him so badly. He's not sure they've ever done that before. It's better, still, knowing he's going to drive again. He did drive again. If Max cried more, he might now.

Max feels like he's got tunnel vision. This separate life, this place where their stories diverged; he never got to be a part of it, and he feels– weirdly bereft. He never knew Charles beyond their on-track friendship, but there's a strange sense of sadness. There's this nagging thought, I should have been there. He wants to know everything.

He finally lets Instagram lie and Googles Charles Leclerc crash.

[rosyhoneydew]

second half of your ask @ohithankyou 🤗

2. accidental sexting (I kinda forgot they were supposed to call each other my bad, but this wound up being like 600+ words oopsie!)

“Shit.” Tommy’s always been someone to fumble with technology but this is maybe the most egregious mistake he’s made. It’s pathetic. He’d been looking through old pictures, pictures pictures. The intent was good. Noble, even. Now that he’d let Evan go, he needed to get rid of them. It was the respectful thing to do, and it would keep him from remembering, from begging Evan to take him back. The problem was that he had clicked play on a video, a good one, one that had a slick, wet sound and Evan’s voice moaning Oh, fuck filling the room. He should’ve shut it off, deleted it, and forgotten it. But he didn’t stop it playing, and soon little uhn, uhn sounds were filling his ears and he’d reached down, just for a quick press at his cock. Only, he’s never been good at self-control when it comes to Evan, and he’d immediately played it again when it ended, reaching into his sweats and rubbing at the tip of his dick to tease. He’d been trying to play it for a third time when his fingers slipped and hit the little box with an arrow. Then, he’d panicked, sat up, and tried to hit the screen as fast as he could, tapping the quick button that still listed Evan with a heart. So… shit. He gets a response nearly immediately. Evan ❤️: ? Evan ❤️: fuck Evan ❤️: i was looking for this one Tommy’s holding his breath, his hand’s still on his dick, but it’s flagging a little and his heart is racing. Evan ❤️: u still watch it? He should end this. This is exactly what he’d been wanting to avoid. Me: Yes. Evan ❤️: fuuuck Evan ❤️: u watching it now? Tommy clicks play on the video player in their message thread, watches the way the Evan in the video flushes, and looks at the camera with wide eyes and an open, plush mouth. God, he wants to fuck right into that mouth again, feel the way Evan would wrap his lips around Tommy’s cock and press his tongue, soft and wet against the head of it. Me: Yeah. Me: You looked so good like that. Evan ❤️: with ur cock in me? Evan ❤️: yeah Evan ❤️: loved it Evan ❤️: still miss the way it felt. So fucking big u filled me right up Jesus. Me: What are you doing? Evan ❤️: right now? Evan ❤️: fucking myself open Evan ❤️: thinking about your tongue inside me Tommy groans. He loved eating Evan out, feeling him writhe and hearing the soft gasps and moans when he got it really good. Me: You miss my mouth on you? Evan ❤️: miss all of u Evan ❤️: fuck i want u here Evan ❤️: want u to come over and find me like this Evan ❤️: fuck me deep and fucking hard Me: Evan Evan ❤️: u touching yourself? Me: Yes Evan ❤️: show me It’s beyond stupid. The stupidest thing he’s done all night, and that’s saying something. But he does. He takes a video of his hand working his cock, sliding precome down the length of it, and fucking into his hand. Evan ❤️: god u sound so hot Evan ❤️: [1 video] He hits play immediately. Evan’s got his legs up to his chest, and he must be holding the phone at a high angle because Tommy can see the way he pushes three fingers into himself, quick and precise. He’s making these soft groans of Tommy’s name and swearing. It goes on like that for a few seconds before he takes his fingers out and strokes his cock fast, arching his back and coming hard enough that the phone angle drops and Tommy gets a view of the ceiling for a few seconds. Tommy plays it again and mirrors the way Evan fucks his hand until he’s coming too, shouting Evan’s name and breathing hard as he comes down. He takes one final picture of himself, sweaty and covered in come, and sends it off to Evan. Evan ❤️: shit Yeah. Shit.

[acynicalsweetheart]

hai… quick dad curly drabble that no one asked for LOL umm. read cws

content warning: 18+, dead dove do not eat, daddy-daughter incest, daddy kink, faux innocence, etc etc

“Dad...” you whine, lips pulled into a pout as you clutch onto his arms. “Daddy, it hurts.”

“Where does it hurt, baby? You okay?” Curly looks shaken-up, concern plastered all over his face. He smooths his hand comfortingly over your hair. 

You have to look away for a second to hide the way the corners of your lips twitch up.

“Down here,” his gaze follows your hand as it cups your mound through your skirt, “hurts so bad, daddy. Can you kiss it better?”

Dad’s face instantly flushes, a cute cherry blossom shade colouring his cheeks and ears—looking aghast in the most fuckable way possible. 

You were just kidding, unless...

“Baby, I...” his mouth hangs open, speechless. He blinks at you. Once. Twice. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Real bad, daddy.”

Curly runs his hand over his face, like he can’t believe what he’s about to do. “Daddy’s gonna... have a look, okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your grin sneaks itself into your voice.

The couch squeaks when dad gets off of it, hesitant to kneel in front of you. Warm hands find your thighs, trailing up under your skirt before grabbing ahold of your panties, pulling them down ever so slowly. 

Safe to say Curly doesn’t let the string of stickiness stuck to the fabric go unnoticed, “Jesus.”

“What’s wrong, daddy?” You ask oh-so-cluelessly, like something isn’t rising in dad’s pants. Something other than Jesus. 

“Nothing,” his eyes are glued to your pussy, staring as if in a trance, can’t take them off her even when he lifts your skirt up further, “just... hold onto this for me, okay? Gonna kiss it better.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, holding up your skirt to give him access, watching him intently. Curly slides your legs over his shoulders, looking like he’s trying to not combust all the while. 

It’s hard—actively resisting the urge to just grab dad’s hair and force his head deeper between your thighs right here and now. 

Curly places a soft kiss to your entrance, you make an effort to whimper, keeling like a puppy but out of sheer impatience. “More... hurts really, really bad, daddy.” 

“I know, baby.” He mumbles into your pussy, giving your clit a few earnest pecks before starting to make out with your stickiness. 

Your hips squirm against the couch, cunt fluttering against dad’s mouth for every kiss and every lick. He’s moaning, suctioning his lips to your bud until your head falls back, gasping for air already.

He’s... really good, you’ll give him that. 

It’s not long before your legs tense shut around his head, toes curling and back arching as you cream on daddy’s tongue for the first time. “Daddy!” 

Curly hums, unwrapping your legs from around him, face flushed with a heat you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing before. His curls stick to his damp forehead, lips parted—panting like a dog. “Still hurts?”

“No,” you shake your head, voice breathless ‘cause of how dad nearly knocked the wind out of you with his mouth alone. “All good now, thanks, daddy.”

His fingers tremble in tandem with your legs as he helps you get your panties back on. You think a flash of guilt saddens his expression for a second, but it passes once you blink—a fond smile taking its place. Curly pats you on the head. 

It’s a shame, dad looks like he’s in need of a couple of kisses himself—glossy-eyed and glossy-lipped like that. Too bad this can’t ever turn into something more. 

“Well, I’ll, uh... go and make dinner now, honey.” It’s said sheepishly, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his neck. 

As if nothing had ever happened. 

“Okay, dad,” you stare at his bulge, blinking at it longingly. 

[that-hazbin]

Blackout AU: the fight with Adam seems like the ideal time for Alastor to have an "episode;" imagine if Alastor blackout for the first time in decades after nearly getting cut in half by Adam, wakes up in his destroyed radiotower, assumes he just barely managed to get away, stitches himself back up, reappears during The Song as usual, and later finds himself being congratulated by Rosie and his fellow Overlords for brutally murdering the First Man on live TV.

Rose: I was terrified after he struck you down, but then you got back up and ripped out his through with your teeth and tossed me and my cannibals fresh angel guts! Of course, it was a shame you had to toss his head at the rest of the Exorcist Army for a message, but it was brutally effective!

Alastor: ...I did what?

Oh the battle is the PERFECT time for Alastor to have a blackout! He's spent years not having any because he's gotten used to the constant stress of hell, but this battle will definitely reach a whole new height of stress for him. It definitely surpasses his current threshold.

The second he gets sliced by that axe, he's gone. Everything goes silent. Vox's feed, meanwhile, loses the static. He, and everyone else watching, 100% believe that Alastor just died. Otherwise, there'd still be static covering his body, right?

Except Alastor gets up. He gets up, and he rushes Adam like he's got nothing left to lose. There's no control, no finesse, no thought behind the brutal assault. Simply raw instinct, like that of a cornered animal.

Alastor's body is rushing to complete two objectives. One, he must get rid of the threat. And two, he must escape to safety. He doesn't even have the presence of mind to acknowledge that simply ripping Adam apart with his teeth won't stop the man from regenerating— not that that matters, of course, when he throws the body away from himself and towards the group of ravenous cannibals gleefully wielding angelic weaponry.

Alastor, of course, wakes up in his Radio tower, a little while after the noises outside die down. He's still painfully stressed, but at a much more manageable level. Takes his time downing some whiskey he keeps hidden under his station. (It's a miracle, really, that it survived.) Then, he gets to work, slowly and carefully stitching himself back up into something marginally more intact.

When he makes his reappearance, he's a little surprised by the looks of... respect? That he's receiving. He imagined running from battle with his tail between his legs would damage his reputation, but it seems not. Hell, not even Vox's obnoxious camera crew tries to approach him! It's rather strange that Vox is not attempting to press his advantage...

Then Rosie starts talking to him. And he has to try very, very hard not to reveal that he has no fucking clue what she's talking about.

He already didn't like the fact that he had no control of himself when he blacks out. He hates it even more that he's capable of such destruction while unconscious. What would have happened if his feral mind had directed that devastation towards someone who didn't deserve it? What if he had hurt Rosie? Nifty? Charlie?

He needs control. He needs it. Fuck.

Unbeknownst to him, a certain fallen angel is watching him with considering eyes.

[k1mbe3rly]

part 2 of “Who do you pick?”

(sorry it took me so long btw 💔)

Picking both (because why not)

Warnings: Smut, ⚠️THREESOME⚠️ sub! Min-Su, Dom! Se-mi, Switch! reader, Virgin! Min-Su

You were in the beds with Min-Su, He sat there awkwardly and a bit flushed since you were flirting with him, You smirked and somehow yall started making out, you were obviously on top of him, his hands were trembling awkwardly next to him, he wasn’t even sure what to do, it was already lights out so no one couldn’t see much

In the middle of it you suddenly heard a throat being cleared, you looked up in confusion seeing Se-mi, Min-si quickly gasped, “Starting this without me?” She said crossing her arms, “Not really.. you came on time” you said smirking at her.

She chuckled putting a finger on her lip, “W-wait what? w-what are we doing? what’s going on” he whimpered out in confusion, “Were obviously gonna have some fun Min-Su…don’t tell me your a.. virgin?” you asked him.

He widen his eyes in embarrassment, “N-no!” he said, “Well don’t lie to her Min-su..it’s painfully obvious” Se-mi said as you nodded and pouted “Yea min-su.. your really breaking my heart by lying! bad boy.” you said facing him

Min-si stutters, “I-i’m sorry, please don’t be mad! i- i am a virgin..” he said a bit scared, “We’ll be gentle, you said giving him a small kiss.

You guys were able to go into the bathrooms, Se-mi wasted no time quickly grabbing you and kissing you harshly, she kept moving until you hit the sink, you kissed her back with the same pace, yalls lips moving in sync as she took your jacket off, and groped your one of your boobs as you moaned into the kiss

Min-su stood there awkwardly already getting hard, he didn’t know what to do, finally you pulled back from the kissed, you motioned your head to Min-su, “Ah..right completely forgot about him..” She said backing up, you walked over to him slightly pushing him into a stall, he let out a small whine as he immediately sat down on the closed toilet seat

you took of his pants along with his boxers, his cock was stood up and had a bit of pre cum, “are you sure about this min-su?” you asked him, he nodded “Y-yes..” he stuttered

You nodded as you got on your knees, Se-mi watched leaning against the frame.

You slowly wrapped your mouth on his lip, looking up at him to see his reaction, his mouth went apart and a small moan left out of it, you eventually took him whole, he let out a moan and his eyes widen, you took him in slowly and gentle, “God..i don’t have time for this.” Se-mi said as she pushed your head down his cock, he let out a loud moan as you slightly gagged from the way how deep his cock is in your throat, “a-agh, w-wait! se-mi!! it’s too much~!!” he whimpered out, soft gagging sounds filled the stall room as he placed his against again the stall walls for support, “mm~! m’gonna cum!” min-su moaned out a bit loudly, his cock started twitching in your mouth as his cum started aggressively dripping into your mouth, as he let out loud choked moans

Se-mi chuckled as she finally lifted your head by your hair as you, you panted, “C’mon get up” She said slightly tugging your hair, you grunt softly as you got up, “Min-si take pants and panties off” She ordered.

Min-su looked over at her and slowly hooked his fingers into the waistband along with the panties as he pulled them down, he shivered a bit, “Sit on his cock for me pretty” she said smirking as she looked down at your body a bit, you look over at Min-su to see if he’s doing fine as he nodded understanding your look a bit

you than slowly begin sinking down feeling his tip at your entrance, and from there you sinked down even deeper, he moaned out once again, Se-mi kneeled down in front of you grabbed onto your hips and slowly lifted you and down, Min-su moaned a bit longer feeling your walls tighten around his cock, his hands gripped on any space on the toilet seat

You bounced yourself as well as Se-mi also kept bouncing you as well, she spread your legs a bit, enough you see your clit, she begin rubbing it, You were basically cock warming him as you moaned out feeling Se-mi fingers rubbing on your clit, you rubbed and eventually started licking on it

Min-su hands were shaking as he slowly placed them on your hips and thrusted up into you a bit, with that combining with Se-mi sucking on your clit overstimulated you a bit, you leaned back into Min-su as he placed his head on your shoulder whimpering and breathing hard, Se-mi looked up at you as she chuckled into your clit sending vibrations, you moaned as you felt a knot in your stomach

“Fuck- i’m gonna cum~!” you moaned out, Min-su started thrusting up a bit faster but not too fast since he was nervous, His cock was twitching inside of you again

“Yea? cum. C’mon you can do it you little slut..” Se- mi whispered as she continued sucking on your clit, with a loud moan you had cummed as Se-mi backed up laughing a bit, not long after Min-su cummed as well.

Once yall had cleaned up, you had hoped this wouldn’t be the last time doing this, or maybe it is? Se-mi whispered to you, “Hey maybe we can do our own little private session hm?” she said walking always, you didn’t respond but yet smiled a bit and looked back at Min-su