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Emily today
There it is the family home where she lived most of her life until college; she see it with so much love remembering the times when she used to play catch with dad, running around chasing butterflies, showing her little brother the stars and constellations, the times when she helped her mother with the garden, the place where she and her friends used to make bonfires.
Sheâs home even though she has her own home now in the city, were she live alone and sometimes with her partner at the time no need to say her parents doesnât know about it. She make the effort to stay in contact with her parents but work, partner and life in general makes it hard to do it, her parents understand most of the time but after weeks of not talking to her and just see her life trough social media they would called, yesterday was one of those days.
YESTERDAY
*iPhone rings*
Home-pod âin coming call from Momâ
Emily to her Home-pod âanswer the callâ
Emily: Mom, Hi whatâs up? *getting ready to go out*
Scully: hi sweetheart, we just wanted to talk to you, you havenât called
Mulder: hello Kiddo, hey whatâs the noise?
*looking for clothes*
Emily: sorry mom, oh Iâm getting ready to go out so I answer the call with the home-pod
Mulder: you know I donât trust those things theyâre always hearing and spying, who knows whoâs listening
*putting the clothes on*
Emily: Dad youâre just being paranoid
Scully: mulder cut it. Sweetheart youâre going out?
Emily: yeah with some friends and Derek weâre heading to the bar
Mulder: be careful, donât drink too much kiddo
Emily: dad Iâm almost 30 not a kid anymore
Scully: well youâre our daughter no matter how old you are
Mulder: well the reason we called you is because we want you to come tomorrow, your brother is coming from college, we want to spend the day together
Scully: thatâs if youâre not busy of course
*putting her makeup*
Emily: No mom Iâm not busy, yes I will see you at noon tomorrow and Iâm sorry for not calling I miss you guys
Scully (a sad understanding tone): we know honey donât worry about it
Mulder (loving tone): we love you kiddo
Home-Pod âcall endedâ
Today
*standing in front of the unremarkable house*
The porch creaks more, the house needs a bit of paint, the old swing in the yard is rusty.
Emily enters the house but there wasnât any noise, they were home cause the cars were outside but her parents nowhere to be seen âMOOOOM!!!!!â âDAAAAD!!â âAnyone home??â
Scully answered from upstairs âsweetheart give us a minute weâre comingâ Emily cringe at the thought of what was her parents doing, she likes to believe that theyâre not active because well no one wants to know if theyâre parents still do it.
Mulder and scully enter the living room to see Emily looking for something in the Tv; Mulder âhey miss Emily how youâre doing kidâ he muffled her hair and emily sighs âDAD commonâ Mulder grinning âI couldnât help myselfâ
Scully reach her daughter and gives her a kiss âwe missed you honey, we havenât heard from youâ
Mulder âif it wasnât for your social media we wouldnât know how are you kidâ, the tone of both parents was soft but incriminating towards her daughter;
Emily explains herself a bit annoyed âmom, dad, I told you before that im sorry, itâs just the hospital is always busy, you both know how it is having demanding jobsâ she ends with a sigh beating herself for not called them.
William show up âMom Dad Iâm Homeâ everyone give him a hug and his mom kiss him on the cheek like a little boy. During dinner everyone talks about their respective lives, William is in his fourth year of college almost finishing his degree (he gained a scholarship due to excelled in baseball, he might go pro after college), his adventures as a handsome bachelor and also the academic success he has;
Scully scolded him for date so many girls and partying a bit too much for her liking, Mulder stand with scully but afterwards tell william just to be careful and enjoy his time in college.
Emily told them about her current work at the hospital and the specialties she is interested, Mulder asked her about whoâs Derek and she told them he is a neurosurgeon a bit older than her, good looking and nice.
In the afternoon william and emily were teasing each other and having a play full banter about each otherâs life, they text or DM regularly, they cover each otherâs backs when they donât want their parents know something, like the fact that emily is been living with Derek for a couple of months, that would be a major shock to the parents not because their old fashion or prude but because emily havenât presented him and Mulder would be mad at her for being with a man almost 10 years older than her; emily knew that her mother would give her a talk about her experience and all that. Emily cover william partying nature and disasters when he got into trouble because of it; he likes partying and women too much for his own good.
Mulder asked william to help him fixing and moving things in the house that mulder couldnât do it due to some back pain and his knees.
William âI think your knees can be heard all the way to D.C. Dadâ
Mulder shot him a look âlaugh while you can Punk but I was your age too and you will get to mineâ
Emily teased him about it âwhatâs up dad? Old man back problems?â but mom cut her off with her famous raises eyebrow look.
Scully and Emily enjoy discussing some cases emily worked on the hospital and some of scully work at the nearby clinic as well. They talk about new procedures and tactics; a few doctors Scully knows at the hospital where emily is doing her residence. Scully always the FBI agent asked more details about Derek but emily didnât respond despite her motherâs insistence. Scully asked her if she was thinking about family someday, mulder and her eager to have grandkids to spoil, but didnât want to pressure their children too much about it.
The whole evening was nice. When the time came for emily returned to the city and william went to stay with her to see some friends in town, he would return tomorrow though. The house became lonely again just the two of them.
Sitting on the porch recliners, old people furniture said william.
Scully remembered the time when she was 29, a young woman, medical doctor specialized in pathology, with a new job at the FBI, a whole life ahead of her, knowing her cute, boyish, intelligent and handsome partner, who 30 years later is her husband, she also recalled the times when she too lost contact with her parents due to work and the comments her mother told her about family and kids.
Mulder joined her in the reminiscence, he recalled the first year they worked together and how they were at the time; âscully we were chasing monsters and killers, running around conspiracies and putting our lives at risk when you were 29â;
Scully âI know mulder and now Emi is the same age, where the time has gone?? Itâs almost like yesterday we were in the rain at Bellefleurâ she give him a chaste kiss;
Mulder âI canât imagine emily in that situation, I think sheâs still so young and green for this world, but thatâs hypocritical of usâ he sighs defeated;
scully âwhen I was 29 Iâve already make so many mistakes too, ones that emily didnât have to learn from her own experience thank godâ;
Mulder âwell she and William got the better of usâ;
scully âbut we are now at the other side of the street mulder and is not nice, Iâm thinking about the times that I forgot to call my mother for weeks and whenever I was injured she was the last to know about itâ;
Mulder âyeah i got it now and I donât like it either, I missed them so much too and accepting they have their life apart now is heartbreakingâ;
Scully âyeah but theyâre good kids emily is so intelligent so it is william as well, she is doing her residency in a great hospital, sheâs responsible and have a great future a head; William almost finished college and have an amazing future if he decides to practice or going professional on baseball either wayâ;
Mulder âI know we are so proud of bothâ. They leave the recliners with a few cracks of knees and head upstairs to call it a night.
Mulder thought âif scully was lucky I maybe could give her one or two orgasm, common friend donât failed me like the other nightâ he was grinning while climbing the stairs.
Tagging: @today-in-fic @randomfoggytiger @maybe-its-beyond-words @samucabd @pennyserenade and all my mutuals đđđđ
Hope you like it đ„čđ„č
(Iâm a visual person so here it is emily, william, mulder and scully in 2023 and also MSR as parents when the kids where little)
#dana scully#fox mulder#the x files#txf#msr#x files#ao3 fanfic#AU X files#2023#theyâre parents#they have the family they deserve#emily mulder scully#william mulder scully#txf fanfic#msr fanfic#msr family#agent scully deserves to be a mom#x files fanfic#the x files 30th anniversary
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Gosh I wish we got more Melissa and Mulder scenes because they would annoy Scully so much like Melissa talking about energies and the universe while Mulder keeps going about what he thinks about that making points on something out of mind like always and Scully not knowing where to roll her eyes
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Big doodle dump, mostly for TROD AU (some spoilers maybe) + some memes. I can never decide how I want to draw them
#trod au#the rehabilitation of death#narilamb#narinder x lamb#true devotion#doodles#tw blood#This is not all of the art I have to post but I'm still combing through the sai files
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]
âAquaman.â Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.
âBatman. What can I do for you?â
âPhantom. Does he pay taxes?â
âPardon?â
Batman makes a low noise that had Aquamanâs danger senses buzzing.
âDoes Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.â
âNoâŠ? Why?â
âHe wanted money, in exchange for⊠information, of a delicate sort,â Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.
âYou encountered Phantom again?â Aquaman perked up.
âYes. Gothamâs bay is⊠polluted.â Batman paused. âWith victims. Of murder.â
The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.
âYes, I am⊠distantly aware of Gothamâs waters.â By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. Thereâs a reason he doesnât enter Gotham, and the Dark Knightâs ban is only half of that reason. âAh, but youâre correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?â
âHn.â
âMaybe he needs some stuff?â Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. âUs mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?â
Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flashâs suggestion. âItâs plausible.â
âBarry, Barry, Barry. Heâs old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!â
âHal, my man!â Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. âYouâre back! What happened to John?â
âDunno. He got called somewhere that way,â Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. âHad to deal with a politician or something from that area.â He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barryâs shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.
âHuh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?â
âWe should ask!â Hal turned towards Batman. âYou should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!â
âHeâs a child.â
âHeâs been around for more than a millennia, Bats.â
âInformational gathering, right, Hal?â Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.
âTotally. Yup.â
ââŠFine.â
âWait, are we just gonna ignore that Gothamâs waters are full of bodies?â
âYes.â
ââ
âWhat?â Danny asked, mind half on the bags heâs dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.
âGreen Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.â
Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodiesâ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.
Dannyâs only twenty. Heâs not legal yet but he doesnât want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed toâŠ
Ah!
âCanât.â Danny shrugged. âIâm not legal. I died when I was fourteen soâŠâ Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.
âAnyways, fork over my payment.â
Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.
âWhat do you need cash for?â Batman suddenly asked.
âHuh? Isnât it obvious?â Danny tucked it in. âMaterial things, obviously. I need a blanket,â because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. âAnyways, see you same time next week, litterer.â
âI donât litter.â
âTell that to the batarangs I found under the water,â Danny grumbled. âBut Iâll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.â
âAn alive friend?â
âWouldnât you like to know, weatherboy?â
Danny snickered and disappeared. Heâs gotta cram that essay.
ââ
âThereâs a possibility Phantom might be homeless.â
âBatman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. Itâs time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.â
#batman#danny phantom#bruce wayne#dc x dp#bamf danny phantom#dpxdc#dcxdp#hal jordan#green lantern#the flash#Barry allen#mentions of Sam mason#phantom doesnât pay taxes#but Danny Fenton absolutely pays taxes#his parents taught him how to file taxes#tax season is coming up soon tall Iâm stressed#arthur curry#Aquaman#Aquaman and being interrogated on Atlantean history#Batmanâs nickname is the litterer#you canât tell me that batarangs donât go everywhere#sea cryptic! danny au
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â say itâs big but you take it. ride, cowgirl. â
thinking about riding cowboy!loganâŠ
Riding cowboy!logan means having Loganâs eyes flick over inch of you as you try to take every inch of him. His hands settled on your already-quivering thighs. His dog tags jingling between your pecs. âCanât do it, Lo.â You mumble to him embarrassedly as you struggle to lower yourself down onto his thick cock.
Logan lets out a short scoff but that closed-lipped smirk graces his face anyways. âSuch a spoiled little thing, arenât you? Want me to do all the work.â Heâd comment. His hand would slip back from your thigh to your ass, his fingers slightly digging into your skin before lightly coming down on it.
That pulls a jolt and a pathetic whimper from you. âCâmon, youâre not even tryinâ, sweetheart.â Logan says, almost tauntingly as his hand that just spanked your ass now gently rubs circles over the skin.
âI am trying! Sânot gonna fit,â you practically whine back at him, slightly pouting at his dismissal of your attempts. Your next words immediately fall into a sharp breath when Logan suddenly tugs you closer by his tags sitting so prettily around your neck. His breath softly fanning your skin.
âThen, weâll make it fit.â
Riding cowboy!logan means sitting in his lap while he takes swigs of his Jack Danielâs. One large hand gripping your hip while the other is wrapped around the neck of the bottle. That stupid smirk on his face as he watches you cry and moan on his dick. Your skin decorated with deep bite-marks and bruising hickeys from the edge of your jaw to your chest.
âLook at me, darlinâ,â heâd tell you. You shyly drag your eyes up from where they were shamelessly stuck on his strong chest to his sharp brown eyes. And damn, you could cum just from the way he was looking at you.
Luckily, his hat on your head happens to tip forward and block your view of Loganâs face. Reminding the both of you of what a little thing you are in his lap. Logan just chuckles lowly in response before reaching up and adjusting it. âAtta boy.â Heâd say when you meet his eyes again with a weak whine.
#sorry this is bad#im sleepy#wanted to get this out though#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#dorkszn#logan howlett x reader#dorkfilmz#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x male reader#bottom male reader#wolverine smut#wolverine x male reader#wolverine xmen#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman smut#frank ocean#cowboy#cowboy au#the howlett files
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Audio from here!
I love this audio edit, cause I love xfiles lol. It definitely works for EW Donnie and EW Kendra as theyâre getting to know each other.
I imagine itâs right when Donnie is trying to create Mayday again, in this timeline. His family is a little hesitant to go along with it. Timothy supports it, but heâs not much help. Kendra however is intrigued by the idea, but doesnât offer her assistance right awayâcause letâs face it, Donnie is a little spooky!
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise donnie#rottmnt separated au#separated au#rise kendra#kendratello#audio edit#edit#x files#ew au#empyrean weeping au#good timeline#my art#video
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Make Me Weak, Part 3
Pairing: Sex Therapist!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, mentions of depression, anxiety, and description of sexual issues. Power imbalance, Shy!reader. Dark!Terry. Dom!Terry, AU Terry, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some. I'm not a therapist and while I do not make light of therapy, this is purely for my own fun. Please seek real medical attention when necessary.
Summary: Your third session with Dr. Richmond gets more intense as he finally figures out how best to help you. He makes you dig deeper and uncover uncomfortable truths about yourself.
Word Count: 4,751k
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Link
A/N: Alright now, I'm feeling a smidge bullied about this series. I am very thankful that ya'll love my series and while I know that it's out of love, I have a squirrel brain and bad noodle days. I would never want to put out a subpar fic. So the best way to encourage me is tell me what you liked about the fic! I have a praise kink, babes. I had TOO much fun writing this and you will not hurt my feelings if you don't want to read this one. However, I must tag to keep my taglist updated. Forgive me, my loves. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
Terry
Terry sat in the office breakroom stirring his tea while it steeped. He had your file spread out on the small round table as he went over it one last time before your appointment today. Though, it remained a mystery if youâd actually show.
For the past week, he had been pouring over your file backwards and forwards trying to glean what you werenât saying. What you were holding yourself back from saying. He didnât usually like to bad mouth his professional colleagues, but their notes were sloppy; and that was putting it mildly.Â
Terry rolled the tea bag around the spoon to squeeze excess water out and then placed it on the napkin beside his mug. He sighed and stretched, stuck too long already in one position.Â
It was clear that he couldnât bully you into opening up. That wasnât what you needed. You were already on the precipice. So much of your insights were spot on. You didnât really need him, but you needed a guide. Someone to mentor you or mold youâŠno, that wasnât it.
Terry scratched out the word on the notebook he started for you. Itâs not molding you, you already have a strong foundation. You werenât putty for someone to play with. You were more resilient, more open, more determined.Â
So if not moldâŠTerry rubbed his short goatee and adjusted himself on the orange plastic chair. He thought a change of scenery would help give him an attack plan. A way to approach your next session, but he was at a loss. He was uncomfortable in these cheap ass seats, for starters. And the ideas werenât coming in the quiet, rigidly styled break room.
It was like playing wack-a-mole with you. Every method he thought of, you shot down. Every time he thought he had a way into that pretty head of yours, you switched gears. It was challenging and frustrating and exciting as hell.Â
His pen hovered over the notebook, full of crossed out words and methodologies he could try. And for the first time in a long while, his mind was blank. He had nothing. How did he combat nine therapists and a woman hell-bent on doing everything herself?Â
âHey, Dr. Richmond! Funny seeing you here!â Dr. Crawford waltzed into the breakroom and opened the nearest teak cabinet. He pulled down a mug that proclaimed him as the best dad ever and he hummed to himself as he poured himself some coffee.Â
Terry eyed the older man with a bushy mustache but a âdadâ demeanor. He treated everyone kindly and he came highly recommended for good reason. He seemed to zero in on everyoneâs problems like he had a nose for it.Â
âDr. Crawford. Iâd actually like your help with something,â Terry said.
âMe? Oh, cool. Cool,â Dr. Crawford paused as if he were a deer caught in headlights. Regaining himself, he patted down his army green button up and approached Terryâs table.Â
Terry flipped your file closed and made more space for Dr. Crawford. The older man sat down with a quiet huff and sipped loudly at his coffee. Terry hoped his face didnât reveal his disgust, but the man was a good guy. Just a bit odd.Â
âWhatâs on your mind?â Dr. Crawford asked, placing his mug down on the table.Â
Terry rubbed his hands while he thought over how to approach his question without coming off like a creep. His feelings for you were strictly professional. Okay, maybe not strictly but Crawford didnât need to know that.
âI have a female patient, difficulty achieving climax, well-researched, with issues with control. Weâve had two sessions so far and usually Iâd wait for more data, but at the moment, sheâs been through nine therapists,â Terry said.
âNine?â Dr. Crawford asked.
Terry smirked and nodded. âNine. Sheâs committed to the process and seems willing to try new things, but Iâm concerned that I canât find my baseline with her. Sheâs been through so many therapists, sheâs done copious research on her own, likeâŠhow do I compete with that?â Terry asked.Â
Dr. Crawford took a few sips of his mug and stared out of the windows towards the cityscape. âNine therapists, you say? And no oneâs helped her?â Dr. Crawfordâs bushy mustache moved with his frown.Â
Terry fought off a smile. Dr. Crawford hadnât even met you and he was reaching conclusions faster than Terry. Nine therapists was a lot for anyone to not find any kind of solution.Â
âI ask probing questions, Iâve given her some things to think over, but itâs only going to work if sheâs willing to do all of it,â he said.Â
âMy advice? Start from the beginning. Find a way for her to trust you. If sheâs been through nine therapists, I imagine theyâve done everything under the sun already. And if sheâs as well-read as you say, you better come up with something better before sheâs on to number eleven,â Dr. Crawford said.Â
Terry chuckled. âRight, because sheâs done it all, said it allâŠâ
âAnd yet no oneâs gotten to the core of the issue. You can talk solutions all day long but if you donât know what the hell youâre treating, youâre just wasting her time,â Dr. Crawford said and knocked on the table. âItâs not competing against the others. Itâs erasing them completely.â
Terry mulled that over as he took some notes. He liked that. It wasnât molding you, more like shaping you. Stripping away all the misconceptions and untruths and whatever it was that youâve read thus far. Everything your previous therapists had tried. His job was to uncover who you truly were.
RevealâŠuncoverâŠsculptâŠthat was it. He was merely helping you sculpt the woman begging to be let out. You were a sexual goddess trapped in marble. You were already there, just unpolished. He had to chisel his way there, not jackhammer it. You didnât need kid gloves but you needed more finesse.Â
Terry smirked as his pen scratched against his notepad, jotting down idea after idea. He hoped you showed. He hoped you took a chance on him and let him help you. Let him be your tenth and final therapist. And then release you to whatever bum caught your eye.Â
âThis is incredibly helpful, thank you Dr. Crawford,â Terry said. He threw away his trash and then gathered his tea, your file, and your notebook.Â
Dr. Crawfordâs shoulders shook with silent laughter, his neck turning cherry red. âOh, Iâm sure you wouldâve gotten there without me,â he said with a wave.Â
âIâm sure I wouldnât have. See you around,â Terry said, tapping Dr. Crawford on the back. Talking to him reminded Terry of his own father. A tall, imposing man who was larger than life yet nothing but a gentle giant.Â
Terry exited the break room and steamrolled down the bland, drab hallway towards his office. His mind filled with more ideas than he knew what to do with. New things to try. New things to explore. If you let him, he would show you exactly what you needed.Â
He rounded the corner in time to see you step back from his office door. He stopped in his tracks and watched you for a moment, watched your unguarded expression as you hovered. You were dressed in dark jeans and a red sweatshirt, a small purse over your shoulder, and you clutched your journal against your chest. Your hair was neatly styled and it fit you.Â
Many expressions played across your sweet face. You had a tilt to your head and a lilt to your mouth. He would pay top dollar to know what you were thinking. What mental battle you waged inside. Or whether or not youâd knock on the door.
&&&
You
You sighed and rubbed your head. You had been debating if you would attend todayâs appointment or not. You felt less than grown up storming out of his office. He mustâve thought you were the biggest goof in the world.Â
You fought yourself the entire ride over, constantly looking at every corner as an opportunity to escape. To flee. But you kept passing it up because each corner also tasted terribly like defeat.Â
In two sessions, Dr. Richmond had you re-thinking everything. Besides being drop dead gorgeous, he had a big brain to back it up. And damn if it wasnât working. You wanted more. You wanted to explore everything about yourself.Â
Living in your body was painful. But god, you felt so alive. The numbness receded with each passing day as you practiced. You needed to see it through. So with a rumbling gut and sweaty palms, you forced yourself to stay on the road and attend your appointment.
You sighed. This was going to be fucking painful. You raised your hand to knock when soft footfalls sounded behind you.
âNo need,â Dr. Richmond said.Â
You turned to your right to see him come to a complete stop in front of you. Sugar Honey Iced Tea, he was dreamy. He wore a tan colored long sleeved T-shirt and dark navy pants. The sleeves were rolled on his forearm, veins poking out in his deep almond skin, peeks of tattoos, and he held a mug in his hand. His other hand clutched a notebook and a thick file. Your file.Â
You looked from it to his hands to his forearms. Your eyes pinged everywhere on him but his face. Dr. Richmond cleared his throat and tilted his head.
You pinched your lips together and smiled, your eyes crinkling at being caught staring. âDr. Richmond, great - uh - good to see you,â you said. God, if you listening, strike now, please. Please. Please?Â
âIâm glad youâre here. I feared I wouldâve been alone for the next hour,â he said.Â
You sighed and nodded. âYeah, I was definitely debating. But I said I was committed, and I meant it,â you said.Â
Dr. Richmond nodded and then waved his hand forward. You opened the door and held it open for him to enter behind you. You practically skipped to the couch and stood awkwardly in front of it. You held onto your journal but threw your purse on the coffee table.
You watched as Dr. Richmond deposited the mug, notebook, and your file on his desk. You watched the long length of his body, drooling at the fluid way he moved. He must live in the gym or something.
His shirt hinted at a rock hard body, but you wanted to see more. And that was totally the wrong thing to think about your sex therapist. You huffed and looked away from him, up towards the ceiling.Â
There should be a law against attractive authority figures. He should be banned from the profession. Retire and go on somewhere.Â
The door closed behind you and you jumped. âWould you like it open?â Dr. Richmond asked.
âNope, Iâm good,â you said. You turned to him and gave him a wide smile. âIâm just nervous.â
Dr. Richmond smiled and put his hand in his pocket. âThereâs no reason to be nervous. Youâre in charge here, remember that,â he said.
You nodded and watched as he crossed the room. Instead of going towards his chair, he perched next to the desk and faced you. âBefore we get started, I want to clear the air. I didnât mean to push you so hard. I approached our session wrong and I apologize,â he said.Â
âIn what way?â You asked.Â
âI assumed that with so many therapists that you didnât need the song and dance. That you didnât need the introductory session,â he said.
âNo, that was right. I need a push. I know I have more issues to work through than I thought. And so far, everyoneâs just been coddling me. Treating me like what Iâm feeling is in my head. And I spend all my life in this motherfucker. I know itâs not in my head. Sorry for saying motherfucker,â you said and smirked.Â
Dr. Richmond rocked back on his heels and matched your smirk. He nodded his head. âThen we can both move forward together,â he said. He moved around his desk and then sat in his high backed chair. He pulled the mug towards him and blew on the steaming mug.Â
His lips should not look so damn kissable. Lush and pink, he had big sexy lips that just made you want to kiss forever. He was a work of art made real. He took a sip from his cup and then pulled the notebook and your file closer.Â
âHave you been keeping up with your homework?â He asked.
You nodded. âYup. Living in my body. Feeling my feelings. Admiring myself,â you said. You finally felt calm enough to sit down on the couch. You stared at the Lego set in the zen garden and shook your head.Â
âAnd?â He asked.
You rolled your eyes and opened your journal and flipped to the pre-appointment jitters. You listed main points that you didnât mind sharing with him. You told him all about what experiencing living your body felt like.Â
It was scary and there were times that you slipped back into your head without realizing it. Zoning back in was always painful, like stepping into the sun after sitting for a three hour movie. You talked about how strange it was to feel like you had been asleep all this time, pushing everything to the back of your mind.
Later, later, another time, when you werenât so busy. But you were always busy. Always running and moving and thinking and stressing.Â
âThat must be exhausting,â he chimed in.Â
âYou have no idea,â you said. Your shoulders dropped from around your shoulders and you mentally groaned. This was going to turn into your Sisyphus. You were going to kick that healing rock up the mountain and just when you thought youâd finally make it, youâd just go tumbling back down. Hope, you fickle bitch.Â
You and hope had a toxic codependent relationship. It didnât really fuck with you like that, but you kept letting it back in your heart.Â
âWhere do you think this need to cut yourself down before someone else does come from?â Dr. Richmond asked.
You fanned yourself and gaped at him. âBuy me dinner first at least, Dr. Richmond,â you said. You shared a laugh with him and shook your head. âSo I wouldnât be disappointed with my parents when they didnât give me the reaction I wanted for my accomplishments.âÂ
Dr. Richmond leaned forward, his eyebrow shooting up above the golden rim of his glasses. âYou really do over-analyze yourself,â he said.
You shrugged. âItâs a compulsion. If I donât, the world burns,â you said softly. Your eyes pricked with tears but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. You werenât going to shy from this. You werenât going to disappear into your mind.Â
Dr. Richmond took another sip of his mug but to his credit, he didnât write anything down. That would have somehow been embarrassing. You waited while he sat there and you busied yourself with picking at your nails.Â
âWe need a fresh start,â Dr. Richmond said. He picked up your file and then opened a drawer. He dropped the folder and the metal popped with the weight. He closed the drawer and then faced you.Â
âIâm not your tenth therapist. Iâm your first. If you let me, Iâm going to help you achieve what you want. Youâre going to find sexual satisfaction whenever you want. Whether thatâs alone or with a partner,â he said.Â
âThatâs what I want,â you said.
He nodded and then gripped his mug but he didnât bring it to his lips. âYou said if you didnât over-analyze yourself, the world would burn. Do you believe the world will literally burn or do you just think something bad will happen?âÂ
You rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans and scooted forward on the couch. âRationally, I know thatâs impossible. But irrationally? Iâve never been brave enough to test it,â you said.Â
Your mind spun at a thousand hertz per second. It never shut up. Never stopped rolling. Never stopped running. Never stopped with the constant chatter in your mind. You didnât know what would happen if you had a calm mind. The only time you got some semblance of relief was when you were high.
And even then, your mind was still running in the background. Popping up with new tabs constantly. Because if the chatter stopped, youâd have to face the silence. And you just didnât know how youâd act. Or if the world would burn. All you knew was that your mind kept spinning and so did the world.Â
âTell me about how you were treated as a teen. How did your parents treat you and how did your peers at school treat you?â He asked.
You giggled. âOkay, if not dinner, then ice cream? Iâm a simple cookies nâ cream girly,â you said.Â
Dr. Richmond chuckled. âJokes are just a way to procrastinate,â he said. Goodness that voice. That subtle twang in the back of his throat that hinted of a Southern background.Â
You huffed and leaned back on the couch. No one said healing was easy. So you told him. You told him about your over-analytical helicopter parents who were so fearful of something happening to you that they placed you in an invisible bubble.Â
They had to know where you were at all times, they had to know your friendâs parents and have them on speed dial, they asked after your every move, and you asked permission before even thinking about going in the fridge.Â
You had to become hypervigilant and pick up on cues that your mother was going to grow a second head from all her yelling. You never knew when she would give you a kiss on the cheek or yell at you for no reason. You had to scan her face for microexpressions, trying to gauge which way the wind would blow with her.Â
As for your friendsâŠthey were cool for what you had at the time. You were no longer friends with them as theyâd moved on and left you in the dust. But at the time, any little weird thing you did they poked fun at. And if it wasnât them, it was the boys in your class. As if you couldnât step a toe out of line without someone pointing it out for everyone to hear.Â
If you jumped onto a chair, then people would turn and stare. If you waved your hands, there were three people there to call you weird. And if you joked and sung badly on purpose, people thought you were serious and made fun of you for being tone deaf.
You tried on plenty of personalities throughout the years, trying to mix and match what people expected of you. You eventually grew comfortable with being weird but that hypervigilance never left you.Â
âWould you say you feel safe to be yourself at all?â Dr. Richmond asked.Â
You twisted your lips and shook your head. âI wouldnât know what that is. My mom read my diary once and I never wrote anything down ever again. Until you gave me my homework,â you said.Â
&&&
TerryÂ
You justâŠlistened so well. He knew now that it was a product of your upbringing, being the child who was only seen and never heard. Marching to hundreds of orders given by your overbearing mother and absent in spirit father.Â
Add onto that that your peers at school treated you as if there was something wrong with you, it was impossible for you to become comfortable. To achieve safety of mind and body. Who could explore themselves like that? When so many conspired to convince you that you werenât a person deserving of grace?Â
Terry took a sip of his mug and watched you deflate further. Like every truth you kept trapped inside was what kept you animated and full. Without itâŠÂ
Terry stood up and rounded his desk, somehow needing the boundary out of the way. Maybe heâd sit in the other chair opposite the table from you from now on. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.Â
Fuck. You never even had a chance. He prayed that you hadnât been abused or hurt by anyone ever. It was a miracle that you didnât have a string of abusive ex-boyfriends or a thicker medical file in a hospital somewhere. Sweet, open women like you deserved to be cared for. Protected.Â
You were a sub in more ways that you realized. And his fondness for you, his attraction, only grew with each session. How? How would he let you go when you graduated from his help?Â
âIâm going to ask you a question and I want you to really think before you answer,â he said. He replaced his glasses on his face and tilted his head forward to emphasize his point. This was a hard question but it needed to be asked.Â
You leaned forward, clutched your journal to your chest, and pinched your lips. But you nodded and mimed zipping your mouth.Â
âWho said they were right?â He asked.
He watched as your face smoothed out to an adorable blank. Your mouth flattened as you looked at him. Again, he wished more than anything to know what you were thinking. What questions raced in your mind.Â
He grew concerned when you continued to stare without saying a word. But he didnât interrupt. He wanted to see where you took it. What you would do. So as you stared, he stared.Â
He took in your sweet, rounded features. Your adorably styled hair. The red in your sweatshirt highlighted your beautiful brown skin. You finally took a deep breath and then stared up at the ceiling.
âIn all my life, no one has ever asked me that,â you said. You brought your hands to your eyes and swiped at them. You needed to let them fall but he wasnât going to push you on that right now.Â
You stood up and then rubbed your forehead as you paced back and forth. He continued to watch you self-soothe right before his eyes. He wondered if you were conscious of that too. Did you miss anything?Â
âAndâŠpeople just accept it when everyone seems to agree that youâre uncool or weird or whatever, âcause of what you said about the group thing. People want to fit in and belong butâŠno one died and made them the fucking authority on whatâs cool. No one put them in charge and theyâre not the popular police,â you said as you continued to pace like a ping pong ball.Â
âMisery loves company. Hurt people hurt people. However you wanna spin it, nothing brings people closer together than hating the same thing or same person. Thereâs a sense of validation when people agree with you. And people think mob mentality only applies to bad situations, but it applies everywhere. Because thereâs safety in numbers, people would rather go with the flow than be singled out.âÂ
You threw up your hands. âWhy didnât I learn this years ago? And now I just feel stupid for it never even occurred to me that they werenât right,â you said. You sat down on the couch with a huff.Â
Terry put his hands in his pockets and smirked. He glanced at the clock. He didnât have you for much longer. He flexed his jaw at the thought. What he wouldnât give.Â
âYou shouldnât feel stupid. Think about what kind of environment you were raised in and continue to live in. You had to be aware to avoid danger. To avoid being singled out. You had to adapt to survive. That takes courage and bravery. You did what you had to do to survive and thatâs all anyone is doing.
âBut you donât have to just survive anymore. You get to choose. You get to choose right here and now to live. Live with your whole body because you are here, you are perceivable, you matter, and you can take up space and the world will be fine,â he said.Â
Tears swimmed in your eyes and you stood up to face away from him. You faced the window and your shoulders shook. You gripped yourself in a low hug, not making a single sound.Â
Terry moved to his desk to grab the box of tissues silently. He made noise so that you knew he was approaching and he placed the box on the end table under the window. You turned your body from him but grabbed a tissue and swiped at your eyes.Â
The only sounds he heard was the tick of the clock on the wall and your random sniffles. The shake in your shoulders subsided bit by bit until you looked up at the ceiling.Â
Terry remained close by so that you knew you werenât alone.
&&&
You
Fuck, you felt like a fucking idiot. All these years. Nine fucking therapists. Shitty boyfriend after shitty boyfriend. Your motherâs latest tirade and your fatherâs empty shrug. All for this man to ask you the one question that shook you to your core.Â
Who said they were right? Who said? Who gave them the right to make you think that there was something wrong with you? That your very existence was a plight on the world and itâd be better if you werenât there?Â
Who fucking said?Â
It was all so simple and yet complicated. You hung your sense of safety on the need to âdo the right thing at the right timeâ. If you did something ânormalâ, then no one could make fun of you, and you passed through another day fooling everyone with your disguise.Â
And fuck! Wasnât that freeing? Your chest ached and your eyes pricked with unshed tears, but it was already embarrassing that Dr. Richmond witnessed you crying. You liked to reserve that for sappy, cheesy romance movies on Netflix.Â
Your heart felt heavy, weighing down your chest to a near uncomfortable level. You knew you needed to release all of it but not now. Not after only three sessions with this man.Â
Who was he? Why was he like this? Where the fuck did he come from?Â
âI see why they pay you the big bucks now,â you said, wiping at a tear that dared escape your eye. And you had a random ache in your belly? Feelings were weird. And sticky. Like constantly stepping on glue traps plastered all over the kitchen floor.Â
âWhy did you place so much bearing on their opinions?â Dr. Richmond asked. You liked that he had stayed close by while you broke apart. It was so rare that you did it in front of others. You were glad that he wasnât the hugging type. Or the one who filled the room with hot air about how much it was needed and you should let go.Â
âBecause I donât want to be alone forever. I want proof that I mattered to someone,â you whispered. You sniffled but held back the tears. You blinked a few times and held firm. Later.
âHow can you matter to anyone if you donât matter to yourself?â Dr. Richmond asked softly.Â
The clock ticked in the background and you glanced at the clock. You were a little over your session and you were thankful that the next person hadnât barged in. You wiped your face once more and then turned to Dr. Richmond.
He stood with his hands in his pockets and a kind smile on his face. His biggest strength was that he was unassuming despite his size. He knew when to use it to his advantage and when to switch it off. He was in tune with those around him and it was rare to find a man with a calming aura.Â
âI matter to myself but probably not as much as I think,â you said. âIâll work on that too.âÂ
Dr. Richmond nodded. âYour homework is to practice loving yourself. Speak kind words, think nice things about yourself, and remember that your brain is a big ass liar,â he said.
You giggled and ducked your head. âAlright, alright. Iâll be nicer to myself. You missed your calling as a mind reader, Dr. Richmond,â you said. You grabbed your journal and purse from the couch and coffee table and then exited the room, feeling way lighter than when you went in.
Wheww! Need some more? The Secret Terry Richmond Files | Part 1 | Part 2
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Sorry ive been dead i accidentally got fixated on my friends oc. Take these doodles that i (mostly) did before the tragic impact ft LD&RS moon who belongs to @spadillelicious
#also read love death and rollerskates on ao3 it fucks INSANELY hard#the third one was for an ask but idefk what the ask was anymore whoops#tbh just posting these so they arent lost in the hell that is my file organization#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf security breach#fnaf sun#sundrop#binary resurgence#binary resurgence: round 2 au#fnaf moon#moondrop#dca x reader#sun x reader#moon x reader#mikas stuff
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itâs the easiest thing (just love me and eat me)
pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader
wc: 6.1k
anon says: nat pls speak on sub!logan...people are hating on the sub!logan agenda and someone needs to show them that they're wrong and it can be done cuz if anyone can convince them it's you mommy!
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, crimson! again! she's back!, slight angst, swearing, violence, light gore, somewhat dark content, religious symbolism? (idk this one got weird babes), established relationship, lowkey a toxic relationship but you didn't hear that from me, sub!logan-ish, handjob, p in v, slow sex turned rough, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, pain kink, scent kink, blood play, blood...eating (drinking? idk), porn with a tiny bit of plot, no use of y/n.
authorâs note: anon i'm so sorry this took me so long...i hope it was worth the wait! it started as a short smutty drabble that somehow turned intoâŠthis? idk it got out of hand so fast. i am a proud member of the sub!logan nation but that's mostly because i think that ALL men have the potential for sub vibes like doesn't matter who he is if i want to fuck him he's probably a little subby. special shout out to my baby boo and fellow sub!logan truther @avocado-writing <3 tysm for sharing anon! xoxo mwah.
dividers by icon @saradika-graphics!
psst! want more logan and crimson? here's the to the bone au masterlist!
itâs not often that logan needs this, but youâre always more than happy to give it to him when he doesâŠ
The team had a big scare earlier in the day.
It was supposed to be an easy mission, bust a mutant trafficking ring in Albany. You do assignments like these every week, and as sick as it sounds, itâs almost routine.
But this one was different. It was an ambush, and you were compromised.
Only humans, but they were smart. Waited until the team split up to attack. They had tech, things you'd never seen before.
Big guns loaded with tiny darts full of an ominous red liquid.
It was your fault really. You didn't clear your surroundings, so focused on getting to the kids that you let yourself get sloppy.
The tiny sting in your back barely registered, you don't think you would have even noticed if it didn't kick in so fast.
You'd never felt anything like it before in your life.
It didn't hurt. The rush of pain you braced yourself for never coming.
The sensation was strangeâlike your body was shutting down, piece by piece. You fell to your knees, shaky legs folding under you in less than a second.
You felt empty, wrong. An eerie silence trickling in to fill your insides.
Panic bubbled beneath your skin, but you were too numb to feel it. Trapped in the mounting weight of your limbs, the slow blink of your eyes, the shortness of breath despite hardly moving.
Your hand slipped across the gritty cement, reaching for support that wasn't there.
That was when you saw it, the shock of it was enough for your heart to drop. Your skin, blanched and sallow, the veins in your arms black and spreading like spilled ink.
You tried to fight it, tried to will your body to move, to react, to do something. You had to get up. You had to. The kids.
As hard as you willed yourself, there was nothing. It was like your body wasn't your own, like it had become something completely foreign.
You could barely make out the tiny voices calling for you. Pleading, frantic yelps of your name fading into a dull hum as everything went hazy. The edges of your vision blurring into a narrow tunnel.
He stepped in front of you, the same one who shot you. A cynical grin on his face and collar in his hand. You'd seen collars like it before, used on mutants to muzzle their abilities, to weaken them.
You tried, fingers barely twitching by your. Nothing. Just another shock of that cold, unfamiliar feeling shooting through your body.
âGot a big one, boss.â The man boasted into a comm strapped to his wrist, his voice sharp and grating. He took a single step towards you, smug grin still stretched across his face. âYeah, real nice lookin' one too. She'll sell forââ
A muddy roar pulsed through the molasses filled haze of your ears, six claws flying through the air to embed themselves on either side of the man's skull with a wet, stomach-churning sound.
The collar dropped from his slackened grip with a dull bang, shattering into different pieces that slid across the floor haphazardly. A mess of wires and metal.
There were rushed footsteps before he dropped to his knees in front of you, his torso bathed in a dull glow from the overhead lights yellow shine.
There was blood splattered across the side of his face, slicking the front of his suit enough to reflect light off the leather.
Logan, perched in front of you like an angel.
Not one with a golden halo and a harp, but a indescribable mess of eyes and wings looming over you calling 'be not afraid'.
You'd never seen him so shaken before. All wide-eyed and pale as he checked you over for any major injuries. His breath coming in short bursts, hands frantic and shaky as they skated along your body for the viscosity of blood or uneven shift of a break.
He refused to let you even try and walk on your own, swept you off the floor and cradled your trembling body to his chest as he called for help. The beat of his heart was fast beneath your cheek, strong enough that you could feel it even through the thick leather of his suit.
You buried your face deeper in the crook of his neck, the pit in your stomach barely warmed by the feel of him. His scent is strongest there, so much so that in a room full of spilled blood, you could only smell him.
He was careless stepping over clawed up bodies littering the floor like a messy maze of twitching limbs and entrails. You didn't even know there was more than one guard in the room.
The evidence of his love for you, of his devotion, oozing red on the concrete.
Logan didn't even give the carnage a sideways glance as he raced you outside, back to the jet.
Trusting Scott and Jean to take over getting the kids out. The unsteady murmurs he pressed to the top of your head the last thing you heard before there was nothing.
You woke up six hours later.
The sterile hum of medical equipment was the first thing you heard. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled your nostrils, and the faint pressure of a needle in your arm confirmed that you were hooked up to an IV.Â
Your muscles felt heavy, like someone had filled them with lead. But you were alive.
You could feel your body working overtime, fixing itself. The sickening shift of your insides falling back into place.Â
It took a few more moments for you to realize you werenât alone.
A low, familiar rumble caught your attention. You turned your head to see Logan slumped in a chair by the bedside, his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His hair was mussed, his usually sharp features softened by exhaustion.Â
He looked different, smaller, as though the weight of what happened was pressing down on him, making him fold in on himself.
Youâd seen him bloody, beaten, on the verge of death, but youâd never seen him like thisâcompletely and utterly human.
Your throat was too dry to speak, but a small sound escaped you, and Logan's head snapped up. His eyes met yours, and in a heartbeat, he was at your side, his large hands hovering over you, unsure where to touch, like he was afraid youâd shatter under his fingers.
âYouâre okay,â he whispered, more to himself than to you. His voice was hoarse, cracked with a mixture of relief and something else, something deeper. His eyes darted over your face, your arms, as if memorizing every detail just to make sure you were real.
âI'm sorry,â you managed, your voice barely more than a rasp.
Logan's eyebrows furrowed, the lines in his forehead deepening. "What the hell are you apologizing for?" His voice was gruff, but there was a tenderness beneath it. A gentleness he only reserved for you.
Your lips cracked into a weak smile. "It was my fault. I messed up."
A growl rumbled low in his chest, and you could feel the anger simmering just beneath his skin, not at you but at the situation, at whoever had dared to hurt you.
âDonât,â he said, voice like gravel. âDon't start, none of this is on you.â His voice softened slightly as he leaned closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. âWhat matters is youâre here.â
The reassurance wrapped around you like a warm blanket, grounding you.
Loganâs thumb traced the line of your jaw, his touch sending a spark of warmth through your veins. âWhen I saw you on the floor like thatâŠI thoughtââ He shook his head, jaw clenched as he forced himself to meet your gaze again. âI thought I lost you.â
Your fingers twitched slightly, managing to catch his wrist, squeezing it with what little strength you had. âIâm right here,â you said softly, voice clearer than before. âIâm okay.â
Loganâs gaze softened again as he looked down at your hand, his rough exterior cracking just a little more. He gently pried your fingers from his wrist and pressed your hand to his chest, right over his heart. âYou scared the hell outta me, you know that?â
You tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a breathless huff. âDidnât mean to.â
He shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, one that didnât quite reach his eyes. âYou never do.â
You were fine an hour later.Â
The color of your skin had returned, glossy and like new. The hollow emptiness inside of you long gone. Your abilities passed every test Charles threw your way with flying colors.
Fully recovered and finally excused from the med-bay after Hank and Jean checked you over one last time, you were given your strict marching orders in the form of extra fluids and bed rest, no matter how much you argued that you were fine.
Your health was the last thing on your mind, just a distant phantom ache each time your eyes would find Logan.
He was still shaken up, even after all the reassurance from Charles and Hank. He kept close the rest of the day, hovering, his presence more protective than usual, but he didnât talk much.
You could see it in the way he moved, slower, less sure, like he was carrying around something too heavy to shake off. It lingered in the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands flexed as though still looking for something to fight, to protect you from.
It wasnât hard to guess what it was.Â
You hated seeing him like this, burdened by a guilt he didnât deserve.Â
It gnawed at you, that heaviness. The way he started to shut down, to close himself off in the face of fear. It was the only way he knew how to cope.
After seeing him like that, bed rest was the last thing on your mind.
You knew Logan. Knew what he needed when his thoughts got tangled up like this, dragging him under. He wasn't the type to sit and talk through it, not easily anyway.Â
And even though you know heâd never ask for it himself, you knew what he neededâto be reminded, physically, that you were still here, still his.
Later that night, when the mansion had quieted and the others were tucked away in their rooms, you found him exactly where you thought youâd find himâin the room you shared, sitting on the edge of the bed. The yellow light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face, the tension in his jaw still there.
A frown tugged the corners of your mouth as you moved towards him, catching his attention with the rustle of the sheets as you sat next to him.
âLogan,â you say softly, breaking the stillness. He doesn't respond, only the slightest twitch in his shoulders indicating he even heard you. âHey,â you try again, your voice a little firmer this time.
He turns his head just enough for you to catch the edge of his profile, the crease between his brows, weariness etched into his features.
But he still doesn't speak.
You shift, moving closer until your fingers brush his arm, the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric of his shirt. âLook at me,â you whisper, and finally, his gaze lifts to meet yours, guarded and pained. âIâm fine. Iâm right here.â
Logan shakes his head, bringing a hand up to run it through his already messy hair. âYou couldâve died,â he bites out, tone rough and low. âWe should've never fuckin' split up. I shouldâve been there faster, sooner. I shouldâveââ
âLogan.â Your voice cut through his, sharper than you meant it to. You catch his hand in yours, thumb brushing against the pulse point of his wrist. âYou saved me, Iâm not going anywhere. I need you to hear that.â
He meets your gaze then, eyes dark with something vulnerable, something raw. He nods weakly, like he only half-believes it. You can still see the hesitation swirling through his eyes, the reluctance in the stiffness of his muscles against yours.
He needs something more than words, something to bring him back to you.
With that, you move to straddle his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His body stiffens under yours, his breath hitching slightly as his hands fall to your waist almost instinctively.
âHold on,â Logan starts, tone hesitant and hands light as they hover over your hips like heâs still scared to touch you. âYou heard what Hank saidââ
âIâm fine,â you repeat, finality lacing your tone and leaving no room for argument. You reach down, taking his hand in yours and bringing it up to press flat directly over your heart. The very same way he did your first night together. "Can you feel me?â
The question hangs between you, soft but weighted with purpose.
Loganâs breath catches in his throat, fingers splaying wider across your chest. The heat of his palm sinks through to your skin, lighting a fire in you.Â
The steady beat of your heart under his touch is an undeniable reminderâalive, strong, with him. You can feel him relax, just a touch.
The tension in his muscles breaking down beneath you piece by piece as the rhythm grounds him, helps to pull him out of his spiral.
âYeah,â he mumbles, barely audible. His eyes drop to where his hand rests, his thumb absently grazing the space just above your sternum. âI feel you.â
âThen trust it,â you murmur. âTrust me.â
A deep, slow breath escapes him, and something in his eyes softens just enough. You lean closer, your fingers trailing up his arms, over his shoulders, until they thread into the hair at the nape of his neck.Â
You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He sighs deeply, leaning into your touch like a dog starved of attention from its master. His grip on your waist finally tightens, fingers pressing into your skin just enough to feel that edge of needâthe need to let go.
âYouâve been taking care of me all day,â you murmur, scratching your nails along his scalp softly. âNow let me take care of you.â
You feel him shudder, a weak groan escaping from his slack lips. His hazy eyes search your face, pupils blown out and seeping into the warm hazel color like an oil spill over a lake.
You tilt your head, lips grazing the stubble on his jawline, moving slowly, deliberately, until you can capture his mouth in a kiss.
Itâs soft at first, gentle, but you feel him melt into it, the sharp edge of his restraint crumbling as he kisses you back with a kind of hunger that fuels you.
Loganâs hands slide up your back, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as you take control, deepening the kiss, coaxing him further into the moment.
His mouth is warm and wet and urgent against yours, the scrape of his teeth along your bottom lip sends a thrill down your spine.Â
His lips move over yours with a reverence that makes your chest tighten, as if each slick glide of your lips together is an apology, a promise, and a plea all rolled into one.
But you donât want his apologies. You want his surrender.
His breath stutters in his chest when your fingers twist in his hair, tugging just enough to remind him whoâs in charge tonight.
When your hand finds his chest, pushing him down gently, he goes without protest. His eyes never leave yours as he settles against the pillows, following your every movement as you crawl closer.
Climbing over him to perch on top of his thighs, you waste no time in reaching for the hem of his shirt, gently tugging on it in a silent question. Loganâs breath comes in shallow puffs as he nods, fingers twitching on your hips.Â
You can feel the way his chest rises and falls under the tips of your fingers, the sharp intake of air when your hands ghost across the skin of his lower stomach as you lift his shirt up and over his head.
You toss it over your shoulder carelessly, it lands with a muted thump somewhere behind you, leaving his chest bare. His muscles taut and rippling as he forces himself to stay still, the dim light plays across his skin, highlighting the contours along his torso.
You take a moment to just admire him, trailing your fingers along the familiar planes of his skin. Your touch is feather light, tracing over the spots that should be littered in scars.Â
The place in his shoulder where he got shot two weeks back, or where the loose shrapnel that embedded itself in his side on the last mission should be, or the skin where his shoulder meets his neck after you dug your teeth into it hard enough to bleed a few nights ago.
The way his body responds to you makes your pulse quickenâthe way he finally relaxes completely under your touch, melting into the mattress.Â
You continue your path down, fingers slipping through the ridges of his abs, scratching your nails through the dark hair that disappears into the waistband of his bottoms teasingly. The muscles of his stomach jump under your touch, the power of his need thrumming beneath your touch.
You drag your hand over the hard length of him, his cock thick and hot as it twitches beneath your fingers. Thereâs a sharp hiss bleeding through grit teeth as his hips twitch up off the mattress ever so slightly.
You lean forward, hiding a small smirk in the crook of his neck. âLogan,â you whisper, voice dripping with intent, âI want you to beg for it.â
A deep, guttural growl rumbles through his chest. It shakes your body like thunder, finding a home between your thighs. Loganâs head falls back against the pillows, exposing the tan column of his throat to your hungry gaze.
Itâs almost immediate, your reaction, your bodies reaction. The pulse of your blood starts to simmer with that telltale heat, slowly bubbling beneath your skin in anticipation.
Your gaze traces along where the vein of his jugular presses against his skin enticingly, barely suppressing a full body shiver at the sight.
You slip your index and middle finger beneath his waistband, brushing against his hard cock with barely any pressure. His hips buck up again, seeking more friction, but you pull back slightly, making him chase it.
âI said beg, Logan,â you murmur, your voice low, teasing, a sharp edge to it now. Your free hand comes up, gripping his jaw tightly, forcing him to look at you.
His eyes, dark and blown wide with lust, meet yours, and you can see the war raging inside himâthe urge to dominate, to take controlâbut then heâs giving in to you, surrendering so beautifully.
âGoddamn,â he rasps quietly, his voice rough, broken. Itâs barely a word, more of a growl torn from his throat. He bites it out, quiet and foreign sounding coming from his tongue. âPlease, I needââ
âGood boy,â you purr, and finally, drag the soaked fabric of his bottoms down. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach lewdly.
You moan softly, deftly wrapping your fist around him loosely. Logan groans, you swear you can hear his teeth grind together at the first feeling of your touch where he wants it most.
Heâs scalding to the touch, velvety skin throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Rock-hard and flushed an angry red, darkening even more the closer you get to the tip.
You keep the pace of your strokes tortuously slow, letting him feel every movement, teasing him. Itâs addictive, watching the way he starts to unravel beneath you at the slightest touch.
His legs kick out against the mattress minutely, hands falling from your hips to grip the sheets as hard as he can in a failing attempt to calm himself.
You lean down, slick lips brushing against his as you speak, your voice soft but commanding. âYouâre going to let me do whatever I want to you tonight, aren't you?â
Logan nods, his breath coming in quick pants, his sweaty chest rising and falling rapidly. âYes,â he chokes out, eyes brimming with need. âFuck, do whatever you want, baby. Iâm yours.â
The usual dominance he carries like a second skin has been peeled away, leaving him vulnerable, laid out beneath you, at your mercy.
Your hand speeds up, grip tightening as you twist your wrist over his leaking tip. Your knuckles shine with pre-come, slick from the gratuitous amount of wetness steadily drooling out.
âYouâre being so good for me, Logan,â you whisper, your voice soft and laced with praise. âSo good, letting me take care of you like this.â
His response is a loud moan, his hips arching up off the bed, but youâre quick to press them down with your free arm, your thighs tightening around him.
âNot yet,â you warn, strength on display as you stop his movements. âYouâll come when I say.â
A strangled sound escapes him, somewhere between a growl and a whimper, and it sends a thrill through you. Heâs right there, teetering on the edge, but heâs holding onâfor you.
âPoor thing,â you mumble, idly pressing your thumb into his slit, gathering the precome there to spread it along the flushed crown. âSo hard, so needy for me.â
âJesus, fuck,â Logan whines, his head tipping back against the pillows a second times, eyes squeezing shut tighten enough to wrinkle the skin around them.
You smile, your nails digging into his chest as you shift, positioning yourself above him. The heat between your legs is unbearable now, slick all along your inner thighs as it pools from your aching cunt, drenching the soft cotton of your panties.
So desperate to be stretched around Loganâs cock, to be filled the only way he can. You roll your hips forward, the hard jut of his cock sliding through the sticky mess of your panties.
âShit, baby,â he groans, loud and hoarse. âFuck, give it to me, Iâm readyââ
You press your finger to his lips, silencing him as you hover over him. âNot yet,â you whisper, a wicked grin on your face as you slide your panties to the side and take him in your hand, letting the tip brush against your soaked entrance, still not giving him what he craves.
Your own patience is starting to run thin, but the sound of his begging is too good.
âTell me how bad you want it,â you say, your voice sharp and commanding as you rub the tip of him along your cunt, teasing. âTell me what you need.â
Heâs trembling beneath you, a soft whimper leaving his lips as you sink down slightly, barely letting him inside. "Please, darlin'," he groans, voice rough with need. "I need to feel youâneed you so fuckinâ bad."
You finally give in, sinking down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.
His body jerks beneath you, a choked growl spilling from his lips as you take him in, inch by inch. You donât stop until heâs buried deep inside you, your walls clenching around him as you settle into his lap.
The feeling is overwhelming, the stretch, the heat, the way he fills you completely.
You both groan at the same time, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you roll your hips, savoring the way he pulses inside you, how his entire body reacts to every little movement.
âGod, youâre so big,â you whisper, your voice heavy with lust as you look down at where your bodies meet. âYou gonna be a good boy and let me ride you?â
âFuck,â he grits, voice like gravel crunching underfoot.
His hands slide up your back, desperate and needy as they cradle the back of your head softly. âIâd kill them all,â he pants, lips messily searching for your own, desperate for more frantic kisses. âFuckinâ all of them, all for you.â
You moan loud and unabashed, eyes screwing shut as your nails rake down his chest hard enough to break the skin. The smell of his blood breaks through the air, heady and sharp. He throws his head back, a broken gasp dragged out of him as his hips speed up.
You think back to the room in the warehouse, the floor slick with stray remains and viscera. Think back to him lifting you to his chest, of the blood spattered across his suit and face slipping against your own clammy skin.
Flashes of Logan running to you like a loyal livestock dog, covered in the blood of any wolf that dares attack his precious sheep. Staining the white of your wool red with the righteous wrath of his sacrifice.Â
You roll your hips faster, bouncing with enough force to have you crying out. The tight suction of your walls pulling him as deep as he can get at this angle.
The coarse hair along his stomach drags against your throbbing clit, making white hot sparks of pleasure zing up your spine to light up each vertebrae.Â
Logan presses his forehead to your chest, hot breath puffing out over your sweaty neck. You tilt your head to the side almost subconsciously, bearing more of yourself to him.
âCanât hold back much longer,â he admits weakly, blunt nails digging into your skin sharp enough to sting. âFeels so good, so fuckin' good."
He trails off, face pinched with ecstasy as he gazes up at you. You smile, rolling your hips slowly, tiny figure eights that let you feel every inch of him pressing against your walls.
âYou're not supposed to hold back," you whisper, your voice thick with need as you lean down, kissing along his jawline. "I want you to let go, Logan."
His eyes snap open, the hazel gone wild and desperate, and itâs like you can see the exact moment he breaks. The tiniest shred of self control finally crumbling under the weight of his instincts. With a low, feral growl, he surges up.
Youâre on your back quicker than you can blink, stomach surging with it. You hardly have any time to react, Logan punching all the air out of your lungs as he sets a brutal pace.
The sudden intensity has you gasping, your body jolting as he takes over, fucking you like his life depends on it.Â
Each thrust is hard and deep, hitting the spot inside of you, over and over again until youâre a trembling mess above him, moaning his name, your nails digging into his chest.
Loganâs grip on you is ironclad, pulling you back onto him harder, faster, his breaths coming out in ragged pants as he loses himself completely in the heat of your body.
"That's it," you pant, feeling the way your body tightens around him, the tension building deep inside you. "Fuck, Logan, just like thatâ"
He growls again, the sound vibrating through his chest as he slams into you harder, his pace relentless. You can feel the sweat slick between your bodies, hear the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies coming together as his control snaps completely.
âMine,â he growls between thrusts, voice low and rough as he pounds into you, his eyes locked on yours, full of possessive need. "All fuckinâ mine."
Your body responds to his words, tightening around him as your orgasm builds, every nerve in your body on fire. "Yes," you gasp, your voice barely more than a broken moan as he hits that perfect spot again and again. "Yoursâonly yours."
Slowly, deliberately, you bring your hand to your mouth, biting down on the pad of your thumb hard enough to draw a thin line of blood.
The scent of iron fills the space between you, mixing with the musk of sex and sweat. Loganâs nostrils flare as he takes in the scent, his pupils dilating further, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You raise your thumb to his mouth, sliding it along his bottom lip to leave behind a thin trail of red. âSuck,â you whisper softly, pressing your thumb into his mouth ever so slightly.Â
And he does, without hesitation.Â
Loganâs lips part, and he pulls your thumb into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the taste of your blood. The look in his eyes as he does sends a wave of heat crashing through you.
The pure devotion of the act thickening the air around you to coil the spring of pleasure winding in your lower stomach tighter.
You groan, your own restraint folding like a house of cards as you drag your nose down the column of his throat, stopping right at the base. You press a quick kiss over the rapid fluttering of his pulse before you bite down, hard.
Logan keens around your thumb, teeth digging into your skin roughly as his blood floods your mouth.Â
You get lost in it, the familiar taste of him seeping onto your tongue as his cock jerks and pulses in your clenching cunt. Getting lost in the way you can feel the rhythm of his heart against your lips, each strong beat sending more blood pumping out to leak along your taste buds.
You press your chest to his, not leaving an inch of space between you. Itâs still not enough, it will never be enough.
You need more, so much more.
You want to encompass him completely, to be encompassed by him.
You want to dig your hands into his skinâto peel back each layer of flesh and fat and muscle, snap each of his ribs back so you can bury yourself in the cavity of his chest before you bend them back into place. Burrowing yourself deep enough inside him to watch him heal all around you, to watch his skin stitch itself back together.
Itâs a sick feeling, the need to take and take until he has no more left to give. Sick and all consuming, lighting you up like the raging flames of a forest fire that destroys everything in its path.Â
When you finally pull your hand away from his mouth, he lets out a breathless moan, and you lean down to press your lips against his in a bruising kiss.
The coppery tang of your blood lingers between you, mixing with Loganâs as your teeth clash together violently, as you devour him, pouring every ounce of your control into the kiss.
You press your palm to his chest, powers surging to life over his heart. You don't need to open your eyes to see what you leave behind, the red and blue pulse of his blood lighting up beneath his skin like the neon sign hanging outside his favorite bar.
Logan moans into your mouth, tongue dragging along the point of your canines. "Don't stop," he pleads, âPlease, baby, donât fuckinâ stop.â
You can feel the energy coursing between you, a tangible thing that's threading itself between your fingers. Itâs intoxicating, a connection deeper than flesh, a binding of souls fueled by blood and lust. You lean into the heat radiating from him, urging your energy to flow freely, wrapping it around his heart like a warm embrace.
âLogan,â you whisper breathily, breaking the kiss just enough to look into his wild, pleading eyes. âYou feel that? You and me, weâre connected.â
âI feel it, honey,â he groans, bucking his hips, forcing you to take him deeper. âYouâre everywhere. Itâs all I can think about all the goddamn time, drives me fuckinâ crazy.â His words tumble from his lips, raw and unfiltered, sending another thrill of desire through you.
You whine, head tipping back to the ceiling. Drunk of the feeling of him, of his cock, of his blood on your teeth.
You've come to think that being in bed with Logan is like being in church.
There's a holiness to the way he holds youâlike youâre the only thing worth believing in.
The familiar weight of his body pressing you into the mattress is the alter. The heat of him like laying in the burning flame of a candle. The strong planes of his muscles each a different scripture that you take in by touch alone, skating your hands over his skin with something close to worship.
Each bead of sweat on his skin feels sacred, a testament to the intensity between you, as though every part of him has been crafted for this moment of devotion.
The hard length of his cock carves a place for itself inside you, each heavy smack of his hips punching another desperate sound out of your slack lips.Â
His breath, deep and ragged, is a chant that pulls you into reverence. It puffs against the wild beat of your pulse, his lips brushing over the fever hot plane of your skin.Â
The sound of your name falling from his mouth sounds like a prayer answered.
You canât help but close your eyes, not in exhaustion, but in a kind of spiritual surrender, like by shutting out the world, you can truly grasp the divinity of it. His blood, mixing with yours on your tongue feels like a sacramentâan unholy communion.
The air between you crackles with heat, your bodies moving together in perfect sync, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Loganâs head tilts back, his mouth open in a silent scream as he claws at your hips, pulling you down harder, deeper.
âIâm close,â he groans, his voice strained, desperate. âPleaseâfuckâI need toââ
You reach up quickly, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at you. âLook at me when you fuck me,â you demand, your voice sharp, dripping with authority. âI want you to watch me when you come.â
Thatâs all it takes.
 Loganâs entire body goes taut, a strangled roar tearing from his throat as he buries himself inside you one last time, the force of his release crashing through him. The hot spray of his come floods your insides, drenching your walls in thick spurts of white.Â
His hands grip you so tightly youâre sure thereâll be bruises blooming later, but you donât care. You wish they wouldnât fade. You want them. You want to wear his mark, to feel the evidence of this moment lingering on your skin long after itâs over.
His hips donât stop even as he comes, a sharp cry ripping its way from his throat as he keeps fucking you, pumping you full of him like he canât stop.Â
When you feel him start to lose control like that, feel the frantic twitch of his cock inside you, you finally let go, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. The force of it rips a scream from your throat as you clench around him, your body spasming with the intensity of it.
Your abused cunt gushes around his cock to seep into the mattress, soaking both the sheets and his lower body all at once as you let out a weak mutter of his name.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is the ragged, uneven breathing between you as you both come down from the high. Logan collapses on the bed, arms circling your waist to drag you along with him. His cock stays inside of you, plugging you full of his come.
Your body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.Â
Logan is warm and grounding under you, soft and lax. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady beneath your cheek, and you press a soft kiss to the skin there, a silent reminder.
His hand comes up to thread through your hair, his touch gentle now, his body relaxed in a way that it wasnât before.
âI love you,â he whispers against the crown of your head, his voice soft, vulnerable in a way that makes your heartache.
You smile, soft and secretive in the valley of his pecs, âI love you too.â
Itâs a quiet admission, the first time youâve ever said that to each other with words. The first time you both felt the need to, because itâs nothing you didnât already know.
Your blood dripping from his teeth lays the same claim over you as his come dripping down your thighs.
It means you're his, and heâs yours.
tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!
#â đŻđąđ”đąđđȘđą đžđłđȘđ”đŠđŽ âĄ#áŻâ
đ§đđ'đŹ đ©đđ«đŹđšđ§đđ„ đ°đšđ„đŻđđ«đąđ§đ!#natalia cant write anything under 1.000 words#to the bone au#file: crimson#this was so fun omg#i love writing angst#sub!logan NATION đ#hope you love it!#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine imagine#wolverine smut#x men x reader#x men x you#x men smut#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel smut#mcu x reader#mcu x you#mcu smut
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â MAKE IT REAL | OP81
Scenario: basically âthe winner takes allâ, but oscar editionâŠor, the one where despite yn being the closest to oscar, no one suspects the two to be dating. that is, until a video of the pair at a valley concert comes out. (inspired by the song âCureâ by Valley (bless @renarots for this one))
Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
A/N: squadron, it is an oscar day. it took me entirely too long to get to this request, but iâve finally made it. i hope you guys like this fic as much as i liked making it đ«¶đ»
MASTERLIST
ynln on instagram
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 92,431 others
ynln happy halloween đđ
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landonorris why is oscar standing like that
‷ ynln heâs just a boy leave him alone
papayabull MY BABIES THEYRE SO CUTE
dreamyalbon this friendship is everything to me
‷ formulaferrari not a single thing about yn and oscars relationship is giving âfriendsâ but okay
‷ dreamyalbon thereâs no way theyâre anything more than friends though đ
rizzciardo the way ynâs whole feed is becoming oscar is so funny
formulaverstappen whoâs gonna tell them that daphne and fred had a romantic relationship
‷ ln4nation to be fair, itâs pretty common for friends to go as romantic duos, platonically.
ynln on instagram
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish, logansargeant, and 142,211 others
ynln the best mornings âïž (also i made oscar the bracelet heâs wearing in the third slide i feel so proud of myself)
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oscarpiastri â€ïž
riabish second slide đ„č
‷ norrisnation ria and ynâs friendship is my favorite thing ever
dreamyalbon yn making oscar a bracelet is so cute </3
formulaferrari another day, another oscar post from yn. i love it here
landosbeachball THE ONLY BESTIES EVER đ«¶đ» the slide of them holding hands omg
f1wagsdaily on Instagram
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f1wagsdaily do you think yn ln is dating anyone on the grid? if so, who? đ
(left to right) yn and lando, yn and daniel, yn and charles
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norrisnation im so convinced that if itâs anyone itâs danny ric đ how do you go to music festivals and football games together so often and NOT date
‷ charlesrrari yes but also they donât hang out NEARLY as much anymore? also to be fair, ynâs closest friend - oscar aside - is lando, so itâs kind of natural that she would be in the mclaren garage more, so it just SEEMS like itâs daniel? idk im not convinced that itâs him
formula44 idk i feel like lando is the only one that makes sense
‷ papayabull what about oscar?
‷ formula44 idk i just canât see them together
xf1x oscar piastri (solely based on how much theyâre togwther)
‷ papayanorris lore drop: yn rejected oscar in f3 because he was too busy so id imagine itâs the same now đ€·đ»ââïž
‷ xf1x to me that makes it seem more likely since that means they were obviously interested in each other?
‷ papayanorris good point but maybe theyve moved on? đ
‷ pastrypiastri okay but imagine dating oscar and heâs THAT close with another girl, and same with yn being that close with another guy? idk this thread might have put me on the ynoscar agenda đ€
shumirrari wild guess: jenson button (if you know you know)
‷ chilisainz what am i missing?
‷ shumirrari basically lando and jenson button are sort of friends so lando introduced yn to jenson at a race, and lando took pictures of them together. iâm pretty sure yn posted them a while back? idk but it was just a silly guess (her and jenson would be cute though, but i highly doubt itâs them LMAO)
formulaferrari i am TIRED why does no one have faith in the oscyn agenda
‷ formulaferrari also does no one notice that oscar always is kind of shy around yn or am i actually delusional on this one
‷ charlesrrari wait lowkey youâre onto something rn đ
grandprixsandgossip on Instagram
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grandprixsandgossip Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln, a known friend of many drivers on the grid, seen kissing outside of a concert arena last night.
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norrisnation girl thereâs three pixels on my screen that could be anyone
papayabull oscar jack piastri what are you DOING
piastrisgirl never, and i mean NEVER, did i expect that out of all the f1 drivers, oscar would be the one where we find out about his girlfriend like this
ln4world this cannot be real
formulaferrari SCREAMING IM INSANE THIS IS EVERHTINH TO ME
stardustf1 okay but wasnât oscar wearing a hoodie in the other picture that the one guy posted?
‷ rizzciardo yes, but iâm assuming oscar took the hoodie off and gave it to yn, because not only can you see her wearing a hoodie in this picture (even though itâs blurry, it looks like the same one oscar was wearing), AND ria posted a story of her and yn goofing off after the concert where yn was wearing a black hoodie so đ
chilisainz were not gonna mention yn in the likes?
‷ norrisnation sheâs having her pierre moment đ€·đ»ââïž
ynln on Instagram
đ¶ Cure - Valley
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, danielricciardo, and 124,521 others
ynln concerts are my heaven, but theyâre paradise when iâm with him đ«¶đ» @/oscarpiastri is my concert buddy for life whether he wants it or not
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landonorris but are you dating or?
‷ ynln iâm gonna need you to be so fr rn lando
oscarpiastri fortunately for us, iâm more than happy to be your concert buddy. â€ïž
‷ ynln music to my ears đ
riabish literally the cutest couple i know *liked by ynln*
princepiastri THE CAPTION, OSCARS COMMENT, THE PICTURES?? THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE
formula44 yn im sorry for not believing in you and oscar
dreamyalbon AND WHOS GOING TO MENTION THE SONG??
‷ yukit22enthusiast AS A VALLEY LOVER I AM RIGJT THERE WITH YOU
formulaferrari THE FACT THAT THESE SRE ALL DIFFERENT CONCERTS OH MYGOD
formulaferrari i can finally call them my parents and not get flamed
papayabull and so whatever you do donât listen to the song because iâm so upset
‷ stardustf1 someone harassed(/j) the guy who took the picture of them at the concert into telling them what song was playing when he took that picture and it was cure đ« đ
‷ papayabull NOOOOO itâs officially their song, i donât make the rules
TAGLIST
@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @vellicora @lokietro @arkhammaid @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @marshmummy @spidersophie @stopeatread @minkyungseokie @jellyfish123guts @harrysdimple05 @fastcarsandshit @motorsp0rt @sadieurlady @cixrosie @hiireadstuff
Thank you for reading! All feedback is appreciated đ
#â© . opâžÂč files đïž#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smau#formula one smau#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#formula one social media au#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one blurbs#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one fic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#op81 x reader#op81 imagine
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đ
MetaDede Week 2024 Day 5 & 6: AU & Secrets đ
(ID: Kirby series fanart comic of a moment in King Dedede and Meta Knightâs youth, when - during a trip to the beach with their friends - the teenaged penguin realizes that he might feel more than just friendship for his little winged buddy. Transcript in Alt Text. END ID.)
Oh.
Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/mtddweek)
Started 08/20/24, finished 08/24/24. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost
#veins art#veins ocs#veins ships#veins fanart#kirby series#kirby#king dedede#meta knight#original character#oc#kirby oc#para dee#bow dee#assorted background characters#childhood friends AU#king dedede x meta knight#metadede#mtddweek2024#day 5#AU#day 6#secrets#description in alt text#yeesh took him long enough - Meta figured this out *years* ago (⊠not that he knows that of course)#when you enter a state of de-de-distress so acute you become a marketable plushie#"what do you MEAN Iâve been in love with him this whole time?? how could this have happened??â#(oof this one fought me hard guys holy stars)#(the amount of times I redid those poses and the rendering and the stupid palm trees⊠and the number of laYeRS in the file⊠ugh)#(still. Iâm EXTREMELY happy with how it came out! and the bottom panel kept me in good spirits during the whole hellish rendering process)#veinsfullofstars
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As a 22 y/o girl (being hormonal/thanks period) do you think that if Emily lived in another universe she would have been married and with kids at this point in her life (she will be 30 this year) or she would be having a successful career or traveling the world or Idk. Also what the hell is Will doing with his life (fun fact Iâm a 2001 kid too)
How S & M would be as grandparents??????
Personally I donât know what to do with my life so I think weird shit
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theyre so stupid Silly Ref:
#sonadow#shadonic#shadowxsonic#sonicxshadow#sonic x shadow#shadow x sonic#sonic shadow#shadow sonic#X-Files AU#ghghgh this is the last ref of this ep i promise maybe-#theyre so dumb i love them so muchhh#also idk but i got sick help me
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HOW YOU GET THE GIRL | CL16
â 02. THE MEDDLING
PREV. PART | NEXT PART â [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]
summary: in which charles has an embarrassing crush on alex's childhood best friend and everyone meddles. content warnings: faceclaim is taylor hill but you can picture her as youâd like! some cursing and for the sake of the smau imola was not canceled. note: thank you sm for the love you showed the first part! once again if you see some mistakes please know that english is not my first language and i noticed them once everything was finished. if you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know! âĄ
INSTAGRAM STORIES
MAY 14, 2023.
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM POST
đ ROMA, ITALY
Liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 432,503 others
alex_albon Donât believe anything they say, I won âłïž
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lilymhe iâm not gonna say anything. đ€
user35 so it is true. they were with charles and Y/N user36 We donât know that user37 someone working there confirmed it
charles_leclerc mate you fell like three times
user38 WE GOT THE CONFIRMATION user39 omg this makes it real user40 BUT WAS Y/N ACTUALLY THERE
user41 not his entire comment section filled with charles and Y/N fans đđđ
user42 PARENTS
yourusername shut up you know i won
user43 OH MY GOD OH MY GODDDD user44 i cant believe it iâm having a crisis over this user45 context pls user46 everyoneâs saying they were in a double date and apparently this is the confirmation.
pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!
đ ROMA, ITALY
Liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya and 756,223 others
yourusername i won. i have witnesses.
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alex_albon keep saying that đ„±
yourusername SHUT UP
user47 not a single pic of charles and her together but we know they were together
user48 feeding us crumbs
user49 she looks so pretty
zendaya tom keeps saying we need to play golf when youâre back in london.
yourusername tell him iâm gonna kick his ass
landonorris you should play with people that actually knows how to play: ME
lilymhe SORRY? yourusername dw lils, i have your back
user50 i love how sheâs befriending everyone
user51 thanks to alex user52 and your point is? user51 sheâs using him for his fame user53 LOOOOOOL
pierregasly thanks for (not) inviting me!!!
user54 whatâs more hilarious to me than this whole âdouble dateâ discourse are pierre comments on both alex and Y/N posts because they did not invite him.
Y/N & ALEXâS iMESSAGE
THURSDAY MAY 18, 2023 â PRESS CONFERENCE
charles is sitting next to lando and max, pierre next to him as alex stands in front of them. heâs aware theyâre talking about what theyâre expecting from this weekend, but he canât seem to focus on what they are actually saying, only picking up pieces of the conversation. heâs too focused on his phone, the message thread he has with Y/N staring back at him. the last text he has from her is just a simple âcoolâ after he was trying to play it cool.
âwhat you doing, charlie?â max asks, playfully poking him in the ribs. he immediately locks his phone, raising his head only to find that everyone is looking at him already.
âi know what heâs doing.â lando wiggles his eyebrows and charles wonders if he really needs his fingers to race. âyou screwed up.â
charles knows he screwed up, and definitely doesnât need lando reminding him the awful mistake he made for just trying not to sound too intense because, of course, heâs made that mistake in the past. and every girl heâs had something with always said the same: âyouâre too much, charlesâ, âyouâre taking things too fast, we should take a break.â so ever since the last girl he dated, once again, said the same thing, charles promised himself he would not be that guy.
âhey,â alex has this look of pity in his eyes that he doesnât like, not even one bit. âmaybe we could do something to help you.â
âi donât need your help.â charlesâ tone is too sharp and abrupt itâs makes him feel a little bad for talking to his friends like that. but just a little.
âlook, you like her, right?â pierre chimes in, but doesnât wait for an answer. âalex is his best friend, if you want a chance with her, heâs the only one who can help you right now.â
but why does he wanna help him?
alex must see the question written all over his face because he says, âsheâs dated a few assholes in the past and i really want something good for her. i trust you, charles.â he tries to look serious which only makes charles laugh. âbesides, i have the perfect idea.â
ALEXâS iMESSAGE â MAY 18, 2023
INSTAGRAM POST
đ VENICE, ITALY â MAY 19, 2023
Liked by scottyjames31, lance_stroll and 976,665 others
yourusername a few days ago i had the pleasure to celebrate two of my favorite people, Chloe and Scotty James. and spent two wonderful days filled with love and joy in the beautiful venice! so happy for you both. đ©đŒââ€ïžâđšđŒđ©·
i wish i could stay here forever, but back to reality for now. :(
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user55 i didnât know sheâs friends with the strolls
lance_stroll I have very embarrassing videos of you, just remember that đŸ
user56 why lance and Y/N look kinda good together
user57 Thatâs exactly what I was thinking. They would look pretty good as a couple user58 he has a girlfriend user59 and Y/N is probably dating charles user57 only rumors
user60 back to reality? sheâs not gonna be in the paddock this weekend?
user61 why would she? nobody wants her there
user62 i thought she was in italy for the gp
user63 just a coincidence user62 still hoping sheâll be there
francisca.cgomes Iâm gonna need to borrow that beautiful dress! â€ïž
user63 she really knows everyone now user64 literally. she was just one time at a race and befriended everyone
user65 i feel like weâre missing something
Y/Nâs iMESSAGE
SATURDAY MAY 20, 2023 â THE MISSION 007 DINNER
the second you see a head of brown hair standing at the door, you want to walk over to where alex is sitting and smash his head on the table. you made sure before arriving to the restaurant that charles was not gonna be there tonight, even lando told you he was busy with some ferrari event. obviously, both lied to you.
âhey, charles!â george, whoâs standing next to you, his girlfriend carmen at your other side, waves at him. and for the first time since that fateful dinner a few days ago, you make eye contact with his bright brown eyes.
butterflies break free inside your belly, even when you try to repress everything he makes you feel.
youâve known charles for no more than ten days but it really feels like youâve known each other your whole life. everything is so easy with him, you canât remember when was the last time you felt this way, if it ever happened.
you thought everything was going well between you two and, for a minute, you let yourself believe he could like you. but then he gave you the cold shoulder and everything came crashing down.
and thatâs your problem. you always feel so much in so little time that when things donât go the way youâd like, everything hurts twice as hard.
thereâs no one to blame but you.
âhey,â is it possible to like the sound of his voice so much that you feel your knees going weak?
âyouâre the last one to arrive. here,â george shares a look with his girlfriend that you donât really know how to read, and both move aside. âyouâre sitting here tonight. weâll go find our seats.â
you want the earth to swallow you. you want to be in a plane far away from here because the seat george is pointing at itâs right next to yours.
before you can open your mouth to say something, the couple slips away. and suddenly it feels like you and charles are the only ones in the room.
no one says a word for what feels like hours. youâre actually trying to find a excuse to leave when charles sighs, defeated.
âiâm sorry.â his voice is almost a whisper, something only for you to hear. âi acted like an idiot.â
âyeah,â you agree because you donât know what else to say. he did act like an idiot, ignoring you for days, not answering your texts even when you asked him if something was wrong.
âi can explain if youâd let me.â
his brown eyes bore into yours, so soft and sincere your heart skips a beat. and even if you want to say no, your whole body begs you to accept.
âletâs eat first and enjoy the evening,â his face lights up like a kid on christmas day. âthen iâll let you buy me dessert and we can talk.â
TWITTER â SUNDAY MAY 21, 2023
TAGLIST (bold means i couldnât tag you) â @leclerc16s. @willowpains. @berrnuu. @minkyungseokie. @sassyheroneckgiant. @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir. @nessacarty1. @a1leexxa. @storminacloud. @lovstappen.
note: i hope you liked it. iâm sorry if i forgot to tag you! please let me know what you think, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3
#ê°ê° đ â verstappen cult files ê±ê±#charles leclerc x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 grid x reader#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc blurb
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Pokeattorney AU x 15th anniversary skit because I take great personal enjoyment in making fun of Edgeworth
...just as much as Phoenix does. The video in question :
youtube
_ pokeattorney AU tag
Btw just for the record whenever I mention the unnecessary feelings bit keep in mind that I didn't bat an eye when I first saw it, but in restrospect it's hilarious and now I just really like to make fun of him for it. Unconfortable Miles hides and/or says things in the most convoluted way possible adding in further embarassment upon himself. And I like to make fun of him for it <3
#ace attorney#narumitsu#miles edgeworth#phoenix wright#wrightworth#pokemon#periwinkla#pokeattorney au#I had this as a wip for something like 2 months#I have so many wips you don't understand....#this was file n.43 of 2024#for reference the nrmt poster was n.36 (started with the layout way earlier than necessary bc I has sudden layout-inspiration ahahah)#and I have reached n.47 rn.... (which is the 14 page-travesty of a comic)#btw this was also an experiment bc I'm trying to figure out how to render the 14 page travesty#since there is no way I'm using BW coloring#it's just not for me - guess I'm allergic to BW (you might have noticed)#...I like it in other people's art but just don't like using it myself#I don't even use BW for rough sketches#not even when I drew traditionally#....always colored pencils even for sketching#btw among other things I also have a pokeattorney AU x T&T gang wip just post the BTTT dinner.... when will I ever finish that? whoknows
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The FBI is spending the taxpayers' money on what now?
#watcher entertainment#my art#sleepless art#watcher#ghoul boys#we are watcher#steven lim#ryan bergara#shane madej#agents bergara and madej and assistant director steven lim u know that's right#x-files au#i guess#blinkies.cafe is so cool btw u should check it out#The profesor is the president apparently#Don't love these but I'm posting anyway
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