#shameless xavier smut

[itsdynotdaddy]

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier, Emma Frost & Erik Lehnsherr, Emma Frost/Erik Lehnsherr Characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Raven | Mystique, Emma Frost Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Porn with Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Public Sex, Public Blow Jobs, Foot Jobs, In Public, Oral Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Awkward Boners, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, or sex he needs both, yes they really doing it under the cafeteria table, before you come at me erik not really dating emma, Smitten Erik Lehnsherr, erik uses too much pet names, frat party, everyone is drunk, no beta reader we die like raven in dark phoenix Summary:

Charles knows damn well that he is nothing more than just a friend to Erik. He knows his place. He can't cross the line unless he wants to ruin everything.

So he has decided to live only in his fantasies until somehow one of them becomes true.

Maybe it is his lucky day?

But also, could it be possible if Erik has actually been sharing the same feelings as him all this time?

[your-favorite-god]

nobodies updating my faves and I've run out of various x reader fanfics I haven't read- can anyone suggest some? Preferably some twilight, stranger things ( billy Eddie AND Steve. Robin and Nancy optional), jujutsu kaisen, Wednesday , orrrr shameless? A lil niche but there's so much fanfic room that's untouched 😭

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you'd never been shy about sharing what you knew about the dead. to hide in plain sight was a decision you'd made behind your mother's back, all while respecting the warning she'd given you those many years ago. because, really, who would believe you?

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

tysm for all the love u guys 😭

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.2

It was the first real day of spring, the sun shining and the breeze warm, and Mathilda had coaxed you and Xavier outside for lunch. You sat in the grass beside the bleachers and were lazily watching the football team run drills when you spotted Maddie and Simon.

They joined you when you waved them over, closing the circle, Maddie beside Xavier and Simon beside her putting him to your left.

You'd seen the way Maddie and Xavier looked at each other, bashful glances and pink cheeks when they thought no one noticed. They'd been cute for each other since you'd gone to the Gorrorcon screening of Grindhouse as a group last month. It was rare that Xavier tagged along for the gory movies, but as soon as you'd mentioned Maddie's name, he hadn't needed much convincing.

While the others chatted idly, your attention drifted, tracking a footballer who appeared to be coaching a boy dressed head to toe in denim. The boy looked uncomfortable on the field, held the football like it was a baby he might drop, and grimaced when the footballer jogged backward a few yards and signaled for the ball.

You knew who they were. Knew you shouldn't be casual about witnessing a moment they thought was theirs. Only, you couldn't help yourself. The footballer was handsome. Not hot or fit or fine. Handsome. With dark, fluffy hair and soulful eyes that you wished softened for you the way Xavier's did for Maddie.

Wally Clark, stadium namesake, died doing what he loved.

Even from afar, you could see the way the muscles in his arms bunched when he tossed the ball, had to wet your lips when his shirt rose to reveal a pale stripe of skin. Instead of the sweatpants he usually donned, he wore shorts that, in different circumstances, would've earned Wally a dress code violation. Barely there, they clung to him like paint on a canvas, accentuating the curve of his ass and thickness of his furry thighs.

Have mercy...

"Leave our sweet flower alone, you know she's saving herself," Mathilda said, pulling your attention back to the conversation happening around you.

The comment she'd responded to had to have been about your virginity. A realization you shook your head at while Mathilda made herself the picture of an angel. It was one of several tactics your friend group employed to violently drag you back to earth whenever your head was in the clouds.

Xavier chuckled and nudged Mathilda's shoulder with his.

"What I miss?" You asked, glancing between the others, still a little dazed by the image Wally made on the field.

Unfortunately, Simon didn't know the rules and, curiosity piqued, asked, "Are you really?"

"Am I really what? Saving myself?" Simon nodded. You grinned, shameless, and stretched your arms above your head as if embracing the sky, "Of course I am," then dropped backward to lie on the grass.

That wasn't entirely true. Simply, your virginity wasn't something you ruminated on, having never been in a relationship, but you'd also long since accepted that you couldn't do what Mathilda had done, finding an interested partner at a concert and losing it for the sake of getting it over with. "I'm surprised Tilly didn't tell you."

Mathilda scoffed, "About your ghost?"

"Ghost?" Now Maddie was intrigued, glancing between you, Mathilda, and Xavier, seeking answers. "You're saving yourself for a ghost?"

You rolled your head toward her and winked through your aviators, laughing lightly at her shocked expression. You could tell she wasn't sure what to make of it, hovering between interested in hearing what the hell you meant by that and concerned that you were that delusional.

"So, you wanna die a virgin, got it." Simon turned to look you in the eye, expression straight for all of three seconds before he started to shake with laughter.

You sat up and swatted at him; he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to his chest, giving him the angle he needed to grind his knuckles against your scalp. He released you when you shrieked and dug your elbow into his stomach.

Once you'd both settled, "How would that even work?" Maddie wondered, raising a hand to list her thoughts on her fingers, "I mean, a) say you guys can get physical, would it be like sleeping with a corpse?" Ew. God. "And b) don't ghosts haunt the places they died? So, if there was a ghost here, you guys would have to do it in a classroom or...the janitor's closet—" "Another nail in the coffin of Romance." Xavier said. You were surprised and somewhat gleeful that Maddie was willing to lend genuine consideration to such an absurd topic, to the point you didn't see the harm in revealing, "Actually, ghosts can roam as far and wide as they want. They aren't confined the way we are. I mean, they could get stuck in a loop if their death was that traumatic, but, for the most part," You smiled at her, "Ghosts can haunt wherever their spooky little hearts desire."

It's not as if anyone really gave credence to the things you said, anyway. Proven when Simon launched into a tirade that drew a lot of inspiration from a show in the Flanaverse.

Hide in plain sight. An idea you'd concocted when the witchcore revolution had exploded on tiktok, alt kids everywhere boasting a collection of healing crystals and excusing their behavior on Mercury Retrograde. Even your mother had taken advantage of the era, promoting her services via heavily filtered videos she had your sister film.

As far as everyone was concerned, your weird ghost lore was a matter of personal opinion and not the result of your family's unique and extensive library.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

"Now what?" Simon asked, phone pressed to his ear, as he watched you retreat into the school. Probably questioning his sanity with every step after the conversation he'd just had with you.

"I don't know." Maddie admitted, picking her nails, "I really needed to believe it was true." Even though, before she'd died, Maddie had been skeptical about your sense of the supernatural.

While you'd been in the bus shelter with them, Maddie had argued at Simon to confide in you about his ability to see her. Thought, prayed, that you were perhaps too afraid to admit you could see her, too. Only, it'd become increasingly clear that you weren't faking how Maddie didn't exist in that moment with you at all.

Maddie's chin fell to her chest, eyes sullen. "She had no idea I was right here, I—" She groaned roughly and fell back against the glass, hands scrubbing her face. "—I don't know what I thought she could do to help, I just..." Hoped you'd have answers; maybe had a way of getting Maddie unstuck so she could roam further than the boundaries of the school grounds.

Too bad it was, as you'd put it, a fraud.

Simon itched to console Maddie, hated that he couldn't. He could tell she was conflicted, emotions warring between sadness and anger and resentment. You'd let her down, whether or not you'd meant to, and it stung.

"Hey," Simon said, trying to infuse some positivity into his tone, "We'll figure something out. Until then, I'll just keep doing the heavy lifting."

Maddie turned her head and regarded him softly, "I don't want to keep putting you in situations like that." She remembered Mr. Anderson manifesting behind Simon that night in autoshop, a tinge of menace in his demeanor, and winced.

"It's not like I have anything better to do." Simon shrugged and gave what amounted to a smile, "I got all this free time since my best friend went missing."

A pungent silence crept in and hung in the air between them, neither willing to address that went missing was putting a delusional spin on it.

💀___________________________

PART ONE - PART THREE

also available on AO3!

MATERLIST

[mapofyourstars]

your body is a weapon, love.

It’s the 1970s in New York, and Charles is a demonic succubus, set on securing his survival with other succubae and incubi, by seducing men and feeding on their desire for him. While out looking for his next lover, Charles meets a curious man named Erik, who seemingly satiates Charles without him having to seduce Erik. Having never been with a man twice, Charles finds himself returning to Erik again – and again – and again; and while he’s breaking all the rules of the underworld, Charles doesn’t seem to mind because there’s just something about Erik that Charles can’t get enough of.

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Charles is a Succubus, Top Erik Lehnsherr, Bottom Charles Xavier, Shameless Smut

trying to decide if the fic should be plot what plot/porn without plot or porn with plot. please leave comments on the fic to let me know what you'd prefer if you like the premise of this fic!

[silverzoomies]

Great Pumpkin

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, drunk sex, halloween party, porn with feelings, use of the speech quirk "yer"

word count: 7,878

a/n: meant to finish this one before halloween. whoops !! at least november is the spook before christmas !! or halloween 2, electric boogaloo !!

some notes about this one: i wanna apologize for the needless plot. i know it's unnecessary, but i got a little carried away. if anything feels awkward, out of place, or weird? that's my bad. sorry. i was havin' too much fun writing the less smutty stuff. some other notes - think of this as an au, i guess. where erik is hiding out at xavier's for...reasons? idfk. sitcom logic. everyone's living together !! but there's tension !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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All Hallows Eve.

Prior to the X-Family’s spooktacular bash, Hank whipped up a little something special. Using his Einstein brain - or wizard sorcery. Peter couldn’t be too sure - the beastly scientist conjured a powerful inebriant. He heard Peter joke one too many times about his inability to get drunk. Since the speedster’s body filtered through substances at break-neck speed. Leaving not a second’s worth of intoxication time.

No exaggeration there. Peter once tried chugging his mom’s entire stash of liquor, along with a bottle of Purple Toad wine. Some really fruity stuff. Such a mass of booze only left a burn in his throat, along with an onslaught of nausea. All of which lasted 0.2 seconds.

Hank wanted to do Peter a favor for all his hard work lately. And now, he could finally participate in what he missed out on. After all these years. As long as he didn’t use the substance for any nefarious purposes. Per Hank’s request. Whatever that meant. Not like Peter planned on playing pranks at this year’s party. C’mon…really? He’s a teacher, for Geddy’s sake! He's gotta set a good example.

Spoiler alert: he had planned on it. Keyword being had.

Until the inebriation actually kicked in. For the first time in his unconventional life, a warm buzz pooled through Peter’s bloodstream. One of the major side effects? Debuffs to superspeed. Which proved an otherworldly experience. If not a little uncomfortable. Still worth it, for a one-night-only lesson in drunkenness.

Peering lazily into his red solo cup, Peter blinked. His eyes followed swirls of neon cyan. Luminous in its irradiated glow. He couldn’t comprehend the science behind Hank’s glowstick booze. But he knew it filtered through his body at a much slower rate than other substances. The drink felt syrupy on his tongue, and tasted like - coincidentally enough - candy corn. Its effects proved weaker than Peter expected. 

Given his cells operated so incomprehensibly fast, Peter didn’t find this too surprising. So, what? He’d never get frat party wasted. Oh well. Peter came to accept that fact about himself forever ago. Still, fluorescent booze made him mellow enough to slow down a lot. Peter could totally vibe with mellow. No complaints there. Mellow’s copacetic. He definitely owed Beastie for his magic potion of slow-mo. Peter oscillated between a nice, tipsy balance. Muddled enough to let loose and enjoy himself. But conscious enough to avoid making any ultra stupid decisions.

Or, he thought so, anyway.

Hobbling around the mansion, Peter pushed through crowds of partygoers. All dressed in their spookiest, sexiest, or most low-effort costumes. Twinkles of orange and violet lights kept the mansion somewhat lit. With spoOoOoOoOoky decorations scattered amongst the school. A perfectly campy atmosphere for Halloween. Oh. And those decorations? All Peter’s doing. Of course, it’s no surprise the professor deemed him prime event decorator. He took mere microseconds to spice up an entire plot of land. Throwing forth all his effort, Peter dressed the building in balls-to-the-walls, haunting decor. 

Fake spiders with prickly fur lay strewn about in random places. Ghosts made of old, torn sheets swayed in the breeze. Skeletons hanged by the dozens. Streamers of orange and faded black dangled from the ceilings and doorways. String lights lined the mansion’s trim. Outside on the grounds, Peter even garnished the grass with inflatable Snoopys.

During his decorative escapades, he cracked jokes to the kids. Peter asked, “You guys think the Great Pumpkin’ll show up?”

They squealed with laughter, stomping their little feet. Candy buckets in hand, the kids yelled, “Mr. Maximoff, the Great Pumpkin’s not real!!”

In the midst of rearranging another Snoopy, he gasped, “WHAT?! He is too real!! Better not let him hear you say that!” 

A haunted trail veered off into the woods surrounding the mansion. It led to an old barn, stocked full of hay and populated with jack-o-lanterns. All carved by the mutant kiddos themselves. Another set of glittering lights decorated the barn, creating an autumn glow. A pair of giant speakers - Peter paid for them, mind you - roared Halloween tunes over the entire property.

Cool stuff. Talk about a hell of a set-up. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of himself. Such a slew of decorations might put even Scrooge Mcduck himself in holiday spirits.

Wait. No. What? Scrooge Mcduck? Wasn’t he more of a Christmas thing? Fuck. Peter might be more mixed up than he thought. He gazed absentmindedly into his red solo cup again. Blinking slowly, he wondered…what the hell did Hank put in this disco concoction anyway?

Whatever. By the end of the night, Peter hoped the kids got a kick out of his hard work. Not that he broke a sweat putting it all together or anything. But he wanted to live up to his awesome teacher reputation. The highest of honors, really. No way he’d let anyone else trump him on that front.

Then again… Peter nibbled his lip, grinning to himself like a huge doofus. He took another long swig of his drink. Candy corn sweetness tickled his taste buds.

Okay. So, he might’ve had someone else in mind while he decorated. Somebody he desperately wanted to impress. A lot. Or, just a little bit, actually. Like, on a microscopic level. Maybe.

That somebody? You. Except, not really. No way.

Pffffttt…he definitely didn’t do it for you. C’mon! Why would he? Think of the kids! Those precious, lil demon spawn! They practically worshiped him. They’re what it’s all about, right? Riiiight.

Peter’s holiday decorations tempted any passing trick-or-treaters to drop by. And the professor prepared quite the spectacle of treats for them too. King sized, candy bars and all. Hank and Raven - showing off their mutant glory without an ounce of shame - passed the candy out to children. 

Human children.

Magneto - still unaware he had a son sprinting around the mansion on any given day - dubbed the gesture hopeless naivety. Or something along those lines. Inviting humans to join in on a night of mutant fun? Totally bogus. Which…yeah. From Erik’s perspective? Fair enough.

“You think they’ll learn to accept you through meaningless, holiday gestures?” Erik griped, arms crossed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Raven merely rolled her eyes. She made a comment about the inherent innocence of children. Erik didn’t appear to care. He groused some more after that. But Peter didn’t hear much of it. Nor did he imagine he even wanted to. At least, not tonight. Maybe once Peter sobered up a bit, he wouldn’t mind lending an ear. If his father ever felt the need to open up about his woeful turmoil.

But Erik disappeared upstairs. Out of sight. Still in hiding, all alone. Poor dude.

Unlike his misguided papa, Peter didn’t mind human inclusion so much. One: because he considered himself a pretty open minded guy. Easy to say, since he didn’t harbor anything remotely comparable to his father’s trauma. 

And two, on a less serious note: Human girls. They gravitated towards Peter like moths to a flame.

Throughout the mansion, the theme to Killer Klowns from Outer Space rang. Conversations buzzed around Peter like radio static. Candy corn booze made it impossible for him to comprehend them. Some partygoers played wallflower. Idling by snack tables, feasting on as much junk food as their stomachs could handle. It took every ounce of restraint Peter had, not to raid those tables himself.

Peter’s Terminator costume wasn’t much of a costume at all, really. It left most of the ladies confused. He didn’t recognize half the costumed cuties who pulled him in for dances. But they sure as hell recognized him. When another pretty girl pressed herself against him - tits bouncing, and bare thighs rubbing his pants - she’d ask the dreaded words, “What’re youuuu supposed to be?” Twirling her hair and giving Peter fluttery bedroom eyes.

Peter gave the same responses every time. Covered head to toe in black clothing, wearing a pair of sunglasses; he raised a prop shotgun from his back, responding with his best Arnold impression.

“I’ll be back.” Right on the money, Peter thought in his buzzed haze. Totally accurate. One to one.

If the girlies didn’t get the reference? So be it. Peter ultimately felt like a massive dork. But he got some sexually charged groovin’ out of it. A bit of groping here or there. He didn’t mind taking the L, if it meant grabbing some ass in the process.

But as the party clamored on, Peter knew he wanted only one thing.

To find you. Just to hang out, catch up, and have an innocent time. No other reason. Seriously. Honest. Why else would he wanna find you? To mess around a little bit? Nahhh. Why would he wanna fool around with you? And risk a long term friendship? He couldn't have that.

Not when you carried enough patience to put up with his day-to-day bullshit. Always listening to his senseless ramblings. Even if he spoke too fast for you to keep up.

During his lunch breaks on school days, Peter usually spent time with you. The two of you talked in the kitchen, or chillaxed in the lounge. Those chats? The highlight of his day. As corny as it seemed. He just couldn’t resist you and your kindly wiles. The wiles of his colleague. His…very pretty colleague. His…very pretty… platonic colleague.

Someone please end his misery now.

Peter wandered aimlessly. He danced his heart out and chatted up some more cute gals. Soon enough, he found you. Leaned over a set of snack tables, you picked through sugary sweet treats. Peter noticed the way you swayed in place. A little heavy footed like him, eh? He snickered to himself, sneaking up behind you. 

Lacking any filter or restraint, Peter blatantly gawked at your ass. A fitted, white gown draped your body. Flowing in an angelic fashion, it harmonized with your every curve. Even tipsy, Peter recognized your costume the microsecond he saw it. Princess Leia. Star Wars. Episode IV. Very sexy. Beyond sexy, even.

A flirtatious whistle caught you by surprise. You whirled around with a doe eyed look on your face. A kind of gaze that made his brain turn to mush. As if the alcohol hadn’t already. You licked the frosting off a funky colored cupcake, as Peter’s gaze flitted down your body. His eyes followed the smooth creases of your gown. A tasteful peek of your thigh kept his attention locked. Until the perky tease of your nipples captivated him instead.

Awesome. Amazing. 11/10. Best night ever.

“Ohmygosh!” You laughed, reaching out to touch Peter’s chest for whatever reason. Not that he minded one bit, “Peeeter, I’m sooooo sorry! I’m a little tipsy right now! It’s really unprofessional!”

Scarlet bloomed in his cheeks, burning hot enough to make him dizzier. Peter ogled you like the last Twinkie on the planet. A dollop of frosting caught the plush of your lip. You swirled it away with your tongue. Drawing in a hitched breath, Peter blinked.

Focus. He needed to focus on anything else. Not the parts of you he wanted to be on, inside of, and all other configurations of carnality.

“And?? You wanna hear somethin’ cray-crayyy?” Peter asked, lamely slurring his words. He raised his red solo cup, waving it in a clumsy motion, “So am I, princess! I’m totally hammered. And I looooove it!” He threw his head back, belting a loud, “WHOOOOO!!” Feeling more like a free spirit than he had in years.

Moving closer, you couldn't control your laughs. You shushed Peter, keeping your hand on his chest. Patting you on the shoulder, Peter chuckled. He feigned offense, but his sizeable hand lingered on you. A thumb grazed the soft cloth of your dress. For a beat, he wondered what you looked like under it.

“Whyyyy?? Why should I keep it down, huh?? It’s a party, baby! Everybody’s yellin’!” He shrugged. Peter smirked, throwing his head back again. He shouted another, “WHOOOOO!!”

A crowd of partygoers kept their eyes on the two of you. Their gazes lingering for a little longer than necessary. You snickered again. So tipsy, you could hardly get a word in through your giggling.

“You really are drunk, oh my gosh. You’re crazy, Peter! I can’t even-” Dropping your head into his chest, you erupted in woozy huffs of laughter. Great. He loved the closeness, “Peter, sorry, I’m sooooooo-”

“Mind-blowingly hot?” Peter lazily blinked, “Because yer-...you-ohhhh, man. You look really hot. Like-” He made a meaningless gesture with his hands, shaking his head, “Like, WOW! Have you seen yourself? Someone tell ‘Ro to make it rain. ‘Cuz yer on fiiiiiiire!” He joked. Cheesy and lame, but too smashed to even care.

You scoffed, cheeks set ablaze, “Oh, please! Give me a break! Mister Terminator casanova over here. Are you trying to butter me up like you did all those other ladies?” Playfully, you pushed off his chest. Peter mourned the loss of your touch, “I saw you! Getting all handsy out there!” You said, your tone lighthearted. Still accusatory.

Somehow, you recognized his costume. That caught him a little off guard. Peter’s heart did some kinda funny, fluttery thing. Jumpy, warm, and beating beating beating in his chest. But…nah. Couldn’t be because of you. Could it? Maybe the booze did it. Yeah. Irradiated Beast hooch must’ve give him palpitations. He’d tell Hank about this side effect later.

Peter arched a silver brow, “Oh, yeah? Mmmhm. Sounds like yer just jealous. ‘Cuz the ladies find my inner Schwarzenegger, action hero totally irresistible.” Bullshit. Most of them thought he dressed as Neo from the Matrix. Wrong action movie. Peter kept talking out his ass, “I bet it drives you up a wall to see ‘em all over me like that.”

“Oh, you think? Suuure. Like Leia would ever have the hots for some dollar store Terminator.” You teased affectionately, “Likely story, Quickie.” Fuck. Quickie. He loved when you called him that. You deceived your own protests, pressing your body against Peter's.

Your nails dug into his shirt as you palmed his chest. So…you wanted to play this little game now, huh? Alright. Fine. Peter bickered back and forth with you for an indiscernible amount of time. Standing in a corner by the snack tables, away from the noisy, party bustle. Unbalanced and wobbly, Peter leaned in. Keeping you both pressed together in a way too intimate for wandering eyes.

He almost spilled his neon concoction on your dress. Exchanging giggles again, Peter lingered even closer. His lips on the cusp of reaching out for yours. But in a clouded moment of self awareness, he stopped himself short.

“D-Do you…uhhhh-” He swallowed dryly. His nerves buzzed all through his body, “Y’wanna…get outta here? Maybe go do somethin’ reallllyyyy dumb? Like-uh…maybe make a mistake you’ll regret in the morning?” Peter suggested, wiggling his brows.

You gave him another lidded look, igniting a blistering fire deep in his bones. With your body still pressed to his - bodacious and oh-so-tempting - you brought a hand up. A beat of silence passed, as you moved his sunglasses up over his hair. Silver strands fell loose. You gazed into his puppy dog eyes directly. 

“And what makes you think I’d regret it?” You asked, your voice smooth and somewhat slurred. Oh...were you being real with him right now?

Your fingers traced flirty circles over his chest. Scorching flames in Peter’s heart burned warmth through his veins. Heat gathered in his groin. Peter’s eyes widened to a planetary degree. Clutching his solo cup a little too tight, he brushed your ass with his other hand. By accident. He only intended to pull you closer. You held his intoxicated gaze. 

Peter let his lips ghost yours again, without any direct connection.

“See, that’s-uhhh…hah…that’s just the booze talkin’.” He whispered with a soft chuckle. Steadily, he pulled himself from you, “Wanna know what it’s tellin’ me?” Peter gave you another lazy grin, nibbling his lip, “Youuuuuu and meee…” He sluggishly said. He dragged you along with him. Stumbling backwards, “...should-uh…gooooo have some…adult fun, yeah? A little romp in the hay?”

Did you know he meant that verbatim? Probably not.

Moments later, Peter clumsily navigated through the party. He made a beeline for the entrance hall, holding your hand the entire way. Floundering with every step, he traversed the crowded halls. Through each doorway the two of you passed, fluttering streamers dangled above. Soft tissue brushed across your face, tickling your nose.

The streamers proved more unkind to Peter. Staggering through the last doorway, he became tangled in them. Peter tried to shake the tissue off, twisting around and flailing his arms. He cursed aloud, making a spectacle of his embarrassing predicament. Caught in a web of orange and black, he looked like a Halloween decoration all his own. The streamers wrapped around his body and arms, even covering his head.

“MOTHER FU-” He cursed, jerking the tissue down with a rough tug. Peter tripped forward in the process. But he caught himself just in time. Compensating for his humiliation, he laughed, “I’m okay! I’m okay! Allllll good, guys. I’m good. Totally good! Meant to do that, actually.” Peter cleared his throat. He averted his glassy gaze from any partygoers nearby.

One of them being Hank, who stood alongside Raven. The two shared a few drinks and quietly chatted. The big, beast of man wore torn, red flannel. His blue fur peeked out from the undone buttons, appearing frayed. His costume? A smurf werewolf. A smurfwolf. Or something. Peter couldn't tell. And Raven? She hadn’t dressed up at all. Labeling Halloween: The one time of year she chose not to disguise herself. Why? Because, in her words, "It's funnier that way."

Raven stifled a laugh at Peter’s expense. But Hank didn’t hold himself back. He roared a rumbling chuckle, “I see the serum’s treating you well, Peter!” Hank teased, cradling a drink in his fluffy paw, “Why, it certainly looks that way. You seem to be having-uhm…fun? Yes! Fun. I'm delighted to see it!"

Peter idled in the middle of the doorway, swaying a little on his feet. Forgoing the streamers, he left them tangled around his limbs. Fuck it. His costume could use some added flair.

“I’m havin’ a-uhhhhh…a total blast, Beast my mannn!” Peter slurred. He passed Hank on his way out the mansion’s entrance. And roughly patted the scientist on the shoulder, “Thanks again, buddy ol’ pal! I owe you one!”

You giggled, beaming an elated smile as Peter dragged you out the door. Once you flew ungracefully by, Hank and Raven both did double takes. They gave you cautious looks, as if to say - uh, do you think this is a good idea? A little too sloshed, you failed to register their concern. Following Peter out the door with an inelegant skip in your step, you waved the pair goodbye.

“Well, now…that’s certainly going to be awkward for him tomorrow morning.” Hank joked, looking down at his drink. He swirled the beverage, the cup appearing itty bitty in his clutch. Showing off a crowd of snaggle teeth, he yawned.

Raven shook her head, scoffing, “Oh, it’ll bite him in the ass later. That’s for sure.” She added, sipping her own drink, “You proud of yourself?” Raven quipped, arching an orange brow. Hank held up a single claw, playful in his self defense.

“Not my fault! I gave him that serum because I thought he could have fun with it! And he is! Didn’t you see him? What he does under its influence is completely out of my jurisdiction!” Hank shrugged, stating in a matter-of-fact way, “I’ll have you know, I did try to warn him!”

In hindsight, Peter should have heeded Hank’s warnings. What he did under the effects of disco liquor proved supremely stupid. The nanosecond your feet hit the grass outside, he lost any restraint he had left. Peter kissed you full on. Ushering your sweet lips into an alcohol induced session of heavy smooching. Tongues interweaving, lackadaisical and reckless, the two of you shared careless kisses. Under decorative spider webs and amongst inflatable Snoopys.

But no Great Pumpkin in sight.

You slung your arms over Peter’s broad shoulders, letting him devour you. His sizable hands slid over your hips. He pulled you closer as he stumbled like a complete klutz. Thick fingers curled into the cloth of your dress. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Peter didn’t dare consider any consequences. With no filter to hold him back, one of his palms felt for your breast. He copped a handful, before you stopped him in his tracks. You tore your lips from his candy corn kisses.

“Heyyyy! Hey, hey, hey! Not here! What are you even doing??” You laughed, giving his nose an affectionate nuzzle, “Someone might see us, doofus!”

Peter hummed, pulling you against him in a more firm grip. He stole frantic kisses, heated and mouthy. Squeezing your hips, his nails scratched across your gown to your ass. Kneading your plush cheeks with little shame.

“So what? Let ‘em enjoy the show!” Peter snickered, diving in for yet another kiss, “I’m not gonna miss out on a chance to touch you like this. Now that I finally got you…”

Rolling your eyes, you didn’t seem to take him seriously. In an attempt to pull yourself away again, you stumbled backwards in the grass. Even with his reaction time outta wack, Peter managed to catch you before you fell. In one awkward motion, he scooped you up bridal style and carried you into the woods. The streamers coiled around his limbs came loose, at long last. Flitting away behind him in the wind.

He held you in his strong arms, following the mansion’s haunted, Halloween trail. The hayride already closed down for the night, leaving the trail - and the barn - open for some private necking.

Finding his way to the barn, Peter wobbled, slowing his stride. In his arms, you took a moment to admire the decorations he put so much effort into. Orange, twinkling lights lined the barn’s entryway. Vibrant in late night darkness. Magical, and kinda romantic. Through the trees in the distance, the garnished mansion appeared visible. A Halloweeny spectacle, engulfed in simulated fog.

Party music echoed from afar, faint, but clear enough he could hear. Peter perked up, overhearing a classic, Hallow’s eve tune.

“‘CUZ THIS IS THRILLLAHHHH!” Peter shouted off key, moving backwards into the barn. His steps were careless, “THRILLAH NIIIIGHT!” He sang, falling into a bed of cool hay. Strands of straw bounced in the air. You came down with him, and he kept singing, “AND NO ONE’S GONNA SAVE YA-” He cut himself off, leaning in to feast on your lips. Peter cradled you in his arms, humming Thriller amidst awkward kisses.

You laid bridal style over his legs, dipping your head back. Inviting Peter to devour your neck like a thirsty vampire. Without all the grace of Bela Lugosi. More like a hammered Nosferatu. If either of you had second thoughts, Peter couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. He left that baggage behind. In the morning, sober Peter could unpack it all. Right now, he wanted his hands on your body, under your dress.

“Ohhhh~! Oh my-” You moaned, tacking on an erotic squeal of his name. Giggling in a kittenish tone. The sound made him wanna bite you harder, “W-Wait-...Peter, maybe we shouldn’t-oooooh~! Maybe we shouldn’t be-”

His sloppy kisses cut your hesitance short. Peter nodded his head in a lazy, loose motion. Bringing more dizziness upon himself.

“Mmmm? What? No-...” He hummed, “Baby, we should. We definitely should. Don’t even worry-” Peter paused for an abrupt beat. Holding you tight, he adjusted in the hay. Uncomfortable, Peter knitted his brows, “Wait-...this hay’s so-...why’s this hay so fuckin’ itchy, man?”

At the chime of your silly snorts and giggles, Peter’s words became lost on him. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t think clearly enough to recall them. Instead, he drew his attention back to you. Peter’s lips found your neck once more. Your floral scent replenished his lungs, a lifesource he desperately needed. Hot kisses peppered down your chest. In his clouded stupor, Peter buried his face between your breasts.

He loved the flustered squeal you made in response. Enough that he couldn’t help but do it again.

“Ohhhhh…hot damn, baby.” Peter groaned into your chest, motorboating your knockers. A graceless gesture. Lifting his face, his hair appeared a disheveled mess, “Yer so awesome, y’know that? Liiiike…yer really great. I know I’m pretty drunk right now, but-uhhhh…” He slurred, sneaking thick fingers under your dress, “I do mean it. No joke. I think yer really cool. Cool and-uhm…and-uh…hahaaa….I really like you.”

You erupted in more buzzed giggles, parting your lips to protest his drunken confession. But Peter silenced you with shushes, “Shhhhhhhh! Shhhhh, don’t-” He hiccuped. Your laughs were so contagious, he couldn’t help but giggle as well, “Shhhh! Don’t tell anybody!”

“I won’t! I won’t!” You chuckled, gently holding his cheeks. You pulled him down for more smooches, lips meeting in a slower embrace, “I like you too, Peter…but shhhhhh…keep it a secret.”

His fingertips danced along your inner thigh, clumsy and unsteady. Peter’s hand disappeared between your legs and under your gown. Hot digits grazed your panties. A flimsy, soaked piece of fabric awaited those digits. Breathing a low huff, Peter whispered, “Fuck.” into your neck. The steamy word tickled your skin, giving you chills.

Blindly, he wormed his fingers into your panties. Peter dipped his digits into your honeyed heat. Thick, syrupy cushions sealed around him. He focused on parting your tight walls. A little too uncoordinated to pleasure you in a more ideal way. Rough, repetitive motions curled at an awkward angle. Digging so deep, Peter could hear the squishy call of your insides - leaking wet, all for him. 

Your body tensed, knees spreading on instinct. Cool air caressed your thighs. Peering down into your lidded, baby doll eyes, he held your gaze. As your cunt pulsed around his digits, soft and constricting, he knitted his brows. Humming another groan, Peter dove down for your neck. He sucked mouthy, wet hickies into your skin. Leaving gifts for sober you to discover later tomorrow.

Speaking of sober.

Sober Peter never had trouble keeping up with anybody. Moreover, everyone else found it impossible to keep up with him. But in his buzzed daze, he could barely follow your lead. One blink, and his fingers buried themselves to the knuckle in your cunt. The next blink, you took initiative. Throwing him for a loop, you changed positions. You pushed Peter further back into the hay, straddling his lap.

As you fumbled for his jeans and pulled them open, more giggling ensued. Heated tension hung over the two of you like those glimmering, barn lights. You felt around, guiding your hand to a hot thickness in his pants. It rested in a curly bed of silver hairs, limp and untouched. Your giggles ceased, and your expression shifted.

“Peter, you’re not even-” You started, squeezing the softness of him in your hand. You gave him a few loose tugs, your voice teeming with hesitance, “Are you…are you sure you want-”

“Yeaaaahhhhh. Yeah. Yanno, it’s just-...I never thought I’d be the one gettin’ whiskey dick. Haha.” Peter joked, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. Buzzed and uncoordinated, Peter harbored little patience for foreplay. His fingers sought for your weeping heat again. He pushed them through your soft, supple pussy lips, “Sucks a lot. I was really hopin’ I’d get to-uhmmm…ahahaaaa…” He bit his tongue, laughing, “Really wanted to show you a good fuckin’ time. But this shit feels like rocket science right now, sorry…”

Eventually, through sheer determination, you worked up enough sorcery to liven him up. Waking his cock from its soft slumber. Peter fumbled, clumsily guiding his dick to your flowery mound. It took some serious concentration on his part to do so. His tongue poked between his lips, brows furrowed tight. He leered between your sweltering bodies. Humid air clung to his skin, contrasting the sharp coolness of an October’s night. The smell of booze permeated in your sweat, mingling with the scent of your perfume. 

You sank over his cock, taking the now raging length of him fluidly. He bottomed out in a single intake of breath. Peter moaned, rolling his hips upward. Your fluttery walls stretched, cozy and soft around his dick. He dropped his head back into the hay, howling a goofy shout. It echoed through the trees, catching autumn wind.

"OHHHHHHH~! THAT'S IT! WHOOOOOO~!" He yelled. Peter chewed his lip hard, meeting your bounces with sluggish thrusts, "That's it. That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about. Hoh-fuck..."

His rhythm was a little off beat, but he blamed the booze. Clenching the fabric of your dress in his fingers, he bunched it up tight. As if to hold you by horse’s reins, arduously guiding you on your ride.

Far in the back of his mind. Like, so far, Peter may as well have been on another planet. He had his first conflicting thought. Screwing you for the first time like this - hammered and careless - struck him as kind of…wrong. Really, he should have waited it out, and done this sober. But Peter couldn’t deny himself either.

"Peter, ohhh~! Feels really good~!" Your squeals of erotic, but sluggish pleasure sounded too much like music. Now cemented as one of his all time favorite songs, "Sooo good, I-aaahhh~!"

The bubbly feeling brought upon by Beast liquor made his body burn with ecstasy. His cock throbbed inside you, loving the tight embrace of your walls. Pleasure burned to an incomprehensible level of intensity. 

Even your dress felt unreasonably soft on his skin. Peter moaned again, drilling your cunt in unsteady surges of carnal bliss. He breathed thickly, the air between the two of you now sweltering. Choking on air, he kept his slow pace. His cock dug tunnels through your walls at a slacking speed. Completely unnatural for him. But overflowing with intoxication, he thrived in it.

“N-Not gonna-” Peter laughed. His voice a rough, breathless mess of incoherency. Sticky heat flushed his cheeks, and his tone wavered, “‘M not-...god…not gonna last. Fuck. Oh my fucking-” He swallowed another groan, suffocating on it. Peter’s hips rolled, their movement leisurely, “Sooooo tight. Feels like yer tryna-...like yer gonna-...aaaahaaaaafuck.”

Playing with your pearly clit, you squealed. The swollen nub burned, tingling as you circled it. With difficulty focusing, Peter brought his head up. He watched your little fingers while you pleasured yourself. His lidded, dark eyes stared, so spacy, so clouded. A growl caught in the back of his throat. You toyed with yourself a little longer, spreading glossy slickness under your fingers.

Your whines stayed at a respectable volume. Quiet enough, no one outside the barn could hear. But Peter refused to keep his enthusiastic voice down. He dug his big hands into your hips, fingernails clenching your dress. Scratching rough lines into the white cloth.

"Fuck, you gonna-...you gonna keep touchin' yourself like that? Gonna cum for me?" His words slurred. Peter used his immeasurable strength to hold you in place. Stuffing his cock through your pussy’s luscious, spongy grip. He fucked you in lethargic, but needy ruts, "P-Please-ohmygod-...please cum for me, baby. Lemme hear it, please?"

"Noooo~! Pe-ahhhh~! Peter, I cannnn't! Someone might-...Peter I can't-" You whimpered. Swirling your clit, you pushed yourself even further towards climax. A delightful, oncoming wave of scorching pleasure surged in your body. Sizzling through your veins, "OH, FUCK, QUICKIE~!" A sharp squeal bounced from your throat, as Peter surprised you.

"FUCK!! Yeah? You sound so fuckin'-Ah-...Yer so fuckin' good for me. Don't hold back, baby. Wanna-ohhhh~! Wanna hear you scream. Don't you fuckin' hold back-" Moving suddenly fast, he slammed his cock in deeper. His cherry red dick shattered your poor cervix. Burying himself to the brim, he slapped your mound hard with sharp pounds of his pelvis, "Mmmmmmfucking-...gonna fuckin'....aaaahhaha..."

Peter’s body tensed. His heels scuffed along the ground, crushing hay under his boots as he braced his feet. More loose strands tickled his skin where his shirt bunched up. Making him itchy again. But his intoxicated rutting never dwindled. He whined again, his voice cracking. Ruthless, quickening grinds of his cock knocked you hard. Sending you straight into a dimension of overwhelming, euphoric pleasure.

As tremors hummed across your sweaty skin, bliss ruptured deep in your core. At that moment, Peter forgot to consider any further risks. He burst with a hot, white pop of gluey heat. Rocking your sore cunt in sloppy, shallow thrusts. Peter soaked his dick in your sweet, inebriated love. The scent of booze and sex simmered in his nostrils. Lifting his hips, he met you in one or two more reckless, offbeat bounces.

Barely conscious of reality, Peter panted. Lying with you in a clumsy heap, he shared lazy kisses and steamy breaths with you. Had he been anymore sober, Peter would’ve rushed you off to the nearest bathroom. In dire need of a minute’s recovery, he laid there. Splayed out, Peter’s limbs rested loose and flimsy. The seconds passed, and he sobered up quickly. Post-orgasmic haziness began to clear.

You snuggled up next to him, grazing his cheek with your nose. The scent of alcohol lingered on your breath. Remind Peter that, unlike him, you were probably still a little drunk.

“You okay?” You asked out of the blue, tickling his neck with a giggle, “What are you thinking about? You’re not second guessing yourself already, are you?” Your fingers toyed with the zipper of his jacket. Which he gave you to wear in the cold, shortly after fucking you senseless.

In the distance, the faint roar of the party continued on. Rustling from inside the mansion and seemingly endless. Peter stayed silent, before snickering. He turned his head to the side, returning your nuzzles with a kiss. His lips met your hair. The smell of your conditioner made his heart skip a beat for some reason.

“Nothin’. It’s not-” He shrugged, turning his head again. Peter stared up at the glittering string lights hanging in the barn. His coffee bean eyes jumped from twinkle to twinkle, “It’s not super important. Kinda weird to be thinkin’ about it after-uh…” His voice trailed off again. Peter cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks flush, “Seriously, no big deal.”

You rolled onto your back, watching the lights sway in a cool breeze, “You sure?” You laughed, humming an, “Uh ohhh!” Before you continued, “Did somebody sober up and realize he made a dumb mistake? Hehe…” You teased, though he could hear the sliver of hesitance in your tone. A beat of silence passed, and you hugged his jacket closer.

“Regret wh-...huh? Nahhh, baby. You kiddin’? That was awesome.” He snickered awkwardly. Peter brought his hands to his face. He sighed, “I-uh…I was just thinkin’ about how…I could be spendin’ this holiday with my dad. I mean, shit…maybe he wouldn’t wanna spend it with me, but-”

He assumed you might take offense to this. Wouldn't it come off as a little inconsiderate? To think about his dad right now. After such an intimate moment between the two of you. But being the understanding person you were, you rolled over to face him. Drawing gentle lines into his shirt, you snuggled up close to him again.

“Is that where you wanna be right now? With your dad?” You asked, your tone gentle.

Peter swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A pounding headache swarmed him from nowhere. The repercussions of Beast hooch. Hopefully, such ailments would pass just as quickly as he sobered up.

“I-...yeah? I guess? But…it’s not like I can just-...like, I can’t go see him. Since he still doesn’t know about me, y’know? It’d be weird if I just showed up on Halloween. Like, hey, man, wanna hang out? Goddammit.” Peter shook his head, sitting up fully in the hay. Straw-like strands stuck to his clothes. He brushed them away.

“Well…hey, I got an idea, yeah?” You tried to follow his lead, sitting upward. Swaying a little as you did, Peter could tell you were still on the edge of tipsy. You giggled, “Let’s go inside. And I’ll…try to get everyone together for a movie. Maybe a horror? And you can run off! Go find him. Use the movie as an excuse. Offer him the opportunity to come down and watch. Sound good?”

It didn’t. Erik wasn’t the type to indulge in such activities. Still, Peter smiled fondly at your consideration. Nodding, he stood to his feet in a flash. You blinked, finding yourself lying bridal style in his arms again. With a hand to his chin, you tilted his head down. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thanks…” He hummed, his half lidded eyes gazing down into yours, “I really did have…such an awesome time with you. I haven't done that kinda thing with anybody in a while. But lemme-uh…” Peter bashfully chuckled, “Lemme get you to a bathroom so you can clean up, 'kay? ”

After the surprisingly deep chat he shared with you, Peter rushed you off to a mansion bathroom. Leaning against a wall, he waited outside the door. As the party settled and people filed out into the streets, he became more nervous. The two of you spent the rest of the night together, by the other’s side. Treating each other as normally as you would any other day. Soon, you sobered up enough to gather the X-family for a late night movie.

Peter took your advice, despite expecting the worst. Zipping upstairs and all through the mansion, he searched for his estranged father. To Peter’s surprise, Erik caught him off guard with a yes. But before he made his way downstairs, Peter took a moment to chat with him. He asked Erik how he was doing, and what he’d been up to. Ever since he chose the mansion for a temporary hideout (an arrangement most everybody felt uncomfortable with).

Erik - for good reason - wasn’t the most emotionally open. He kept their conversation short, before dismissing Peter. They both caught up with everyone else in the living room. The X-family sat together with snacks and drinks, joined for a movie. Erik chose a spot next to Peter on one of the sofas. Something he hadn’t anticipated at all. Since he didn’t get much out of the guy too often, he felt he could settle for his company, at least.

Sitting at Peter's other side, you eventually passed out. You rested your head on his lap, and he raked his fingers through your hair. By the time the movie ended, everyone veered off for bed. At last, calling Hallow’s eve quits. But Erik remained. He spoke to Peter a little while longer. Chatting about nothing at all, and everything at once.

Come next morning, Peter stood tiredly in the mansion kitchen. It was an unreasonably cold Monday in November. Freezing weather seemed to hit Westchester out of nowhere. He held a mug full of coffee, milky white and loaded with enough sugar to send anyone else to the hospital. Scratching his head over a mess of silver hair, Peter yawned. Even though he had more important things to worry about, he couldn't stop thinking about last night. For several reasons.

The impromptu bonding time he spent with his father lingered in his mind. Even if said father didn’t know what their interactions meant to Peter. It happened all thanks to your tipsy encouragement. Peter knew, even sober, you would’ve pushed him to do the same. Because you cared about him that much. Always inspiring him to step out of his comfort zone.

Aside from the estranged dad stuff, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more…steamy moments the two of you shared. Intimate interactions he still hadn’t sat down and discussed with you. Peter didn't have a clue what that little fling meant to you. Or if it meant anything at all. Distracting himself, he focused his attention elsewhere. Like the Halloween decorations littered about the mansion. He planned to take them down today after classes.

You came padding downstairs and into the kitchen not even five minutes later.

“Gooooood morning!” You cheerily said, blinking your sleepy eyes. Groaning, you brought a hand to your head. Your fingers touched your temple, “You know what’s surprising? I actually don’t have that bad of a hangover!”

Peter’s heart did flips, and he felt his stomach tangle in knots. Humming into his coffee, he threw you a casual nod of his head. Play it cool, “Mmmm. That’s good, though, right?”

You headed straight for the cabinets, standing on your toes to reach the highest one. You flailed around for the near-empty tub of coffee grounds. He left it up there without any consideration for short, mansion inhabitants like you. Totally absent-minded. Peter almost felt thankful he did. As you reached, the itty bitty, sleep shorts you wore rose by a touch. The cheeks of your ass caught his eye. Your bottom appeared etched in faint scratches, painted with red splotches. Damn…what the hell did he do to you last night?

Sipping his coffee with a groggy look on his face, Peter grinned.

Man alive, he wanted to screw you sober. Doing it drunk really wasn’t enough. Quickly, he dismissed that thought. Filing it away in his scatterbrained memory for later.

“Did you talk to Erik last night?” You asked, pulling Peter from his not-so-safe-for-work thoughts. You stretched a little further up, really reaching for that tin tub of Folgers.

Peter blinked, “Sorry, what?”

“Erik. I asked if you talked to him last night? Because I kinda remember you two having a chat. But then again, I was pretty out of it!” Your shorts hugged the shape of your cunt as you stood on your toes. An ache stirred in his groin, but he shook it off. Holy shit. What were you trying to accomplish here?

Peter’s heart skipped twenty beats. Sifting through the disorganized cabinets in his brain, he retrieved his previous thought. Ah, yeah. Screwing you sober? Not a want, but a need at this point. Focus, Quickie. He needed to focus. Especially if you planned on talking about something as important as his father.

“Uhhhh…” He ran a hand through his messy locks, taking a moment to process his racing thoughts, “Yeah, we talked. Not a lot, though. I meant to say thanks for that, by the way. Since I didn’t get to last night…” Peter brought his mug to his lips, averting his gaze, “Really. Thanks a lot. Don’t think we woulda had that time together, if you hadn’t pushed me to ask him 'n stuff.”

Still struggling to reach for that tin, you sighed. Your heels hit the floor, as you lowered your arm and turned to meet Peter’s eyes. Your sweet voice brought him an unexpected feeling of comfort. 

“Hey, anytime, Peter! I know it’s been really hard for you. Seeing him around here lately. And you don’t need me to tell you the obvious. But-” You timidly gazed down at your toes, shrugging. Peter knew exactly what you were about to say, before you parted your lips to say it.

Something along the lines of: Maybe it’s finally time you told him the truth. Or whatever.

It was too early for this kinda deep, introspective talk. Peter didn’t give you the chance to continue. Setting aside his mug on a countertop, he appeared by your side in a fwip. The breeze from his abrupt movement tickled your cheeks. He reached into the cabinet for the tub of coffee grounds. Handing it off to you with a tired, hooded expression. He sluggishly grinned.

“We got class in, like, twenty minutes.” Peter interrupted, and you took the bait. Whether you knew of his intent to dissuade the previous conversation, he couldn’t tell.

“Oh! Yeah! Shit!” You slapped a hand over your forehead. Peter gazed down at you, admiring your early morning features, “I’m so screwed!” Not yet you’re not, “I totally forgot to put together a lesson plan! I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do today!” Well…you could always do him. Again.

Jeez. Dude. No. The hell’s wrong with him?? Be reasonable, guy! At least take your buddy out to dinner first. Which...yeah. Might be time to think about asking you on a real date.

“Yeahhh. I kinda forgot too. Had a bunch of other stuff on my mind, yanno?” Peter said, completely lethargic. He shrugged, “I’m so bad at my job, man.” He kept his eyes on you, as you threw together your own pot of coffee.

“Actually, that’s bullshit. And I think you know it too. You’re amazing at it. That’s why all the kids love you so much.” You replied. Smiling like you meant every word. Because you did. Man, why'd you have to be so freakin' sweet?

Early morning sunlight beamed through the windows. It bathed your hair and face in sparkling gold. Peter wanted to kick himself for swooning. He opted to change subjects.

“I gotta take these decorations down eventually.” He said, gesturing to the streamers hanging from the kitchen ceiling. For an instant, he remembered tangling himself in them last night, “I keep puttin’ it off. But it’s gotta happen sooner ‘er later.” Taking initiative, he reached up to tear some of them down. Balling them up in his hands.

“I could help you! If you need an extra hand!” You offered, innocently sipping your coffee. Peter took in the curl of your lips as you smiled. He cleared his throat, chuckling.

“Y’know you don’t have to, babe. It’ll literally only take me a second. I just gotta stop sittin’ on my ass.” Peter said. He tossed the balled streamers with a failed, Michael Jordan-style execution. They landed in a nearby trashcan, “Pretty soon, I’m gonna have to put Christmas decorations up too. Might get started on 'em as soon as these ‘re down.” He smirked, “I’m thinkin’ I get everyone some seriously ugly sweaters. Even Mags, if he's still around by then. Oh, and I'll need more Snoopys. The crotch goblins love Snoopy.” Peter paused for a beat, his dark eyes drifting down your body. A subconscious instinct, “And-uhhhh…gonna need lots of tinsel…uh…”

Peter reached for his coffee mug. What was he talking about again?

“Oh? That all sounds nice!” You tilted your head to the side, flirtatiously grinning at Peter. As if you could tell how distracted he was by your body. Heat set aflame in his cheeks, as he glanced up into your eyes. Noticing the way they seemed to twinkle, “Think you’ll decorate the barn again too?” You asked, a flirtatious tease pouring through your tone.

He choked on his coffee mid-sip.

[beneathashadytree]

Hi!! Were you the one who did that SMAU for love and deep space where the reader texts them something “flirty” but it was meant for Tara but they get lowkey worried?? sorry i loved that and i can’t find it i feel like im going crazy

I think so? I mean, what I did make months ago was an SMAU where we’re trying to send a sex toy review to Tara who recommended it to us, but instead accidentally send it to the LaDS men😭 I wrote it in two parts, one for Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier, and one for Sylus after he was released!! Hope this is what you meant. If not, then I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help🙏🏽

Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier’s parts:

Sylus’ part:

[twins-write]

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FULL LIST OF WHAT WE WRITE FOR:

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13 Reasons Why

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911 (Lonestar and the original)

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NCIS (LA and the original)

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Now You See Me

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Percy

Pretty Little Liars

Caleb Rivers

Holden Strauss

Jason DiLaurentis

Mike Montgomery

Noel Kahn

Toby Cavanaugh

Shadowhunters

Alec Lightwood

Jace Herondale

Simon Lewis

Shameless

Ian Gallagher

Kevin Ball

Lip Gallagher

Smallville

Clark Kent

Lex Luthor

Stranger Things

Dustin Henderson

Steve Harrington

Supernatural

Castiel

Dean Winchester

Jack Kline

Sam Winchester

T@GGED

Ash Franklin

Brandon Darrow

Trevor Askill

Teen Wolf

Derek Hale

Isaac Lahey

Scott McCall

Stiles Stilinski

Titans

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

Gar Logan (Beast Boy)

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

The 100

Bellamy Blake

Jasper Jordan

Monty Green

The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Ambrose Spellman

Harvey Kinkle

Nicholas Scratch

The Hunger Games

Finnick Odair

Peeta Mellark

The Maze Runner

Minho

Newt

Thomas

The Middle

Axl Heck

Sean Donahue

The OC

Luke Ward

Ryan Atwood

Seth Cohen

The Originals

Elijah Mikaelson

Klaus Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

The Outsiders

Darry Curtis

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

The Rookie

John Nolan

Tim Bradford

The Umbrella Academy

Five Hargreeves

The Vampire Diaries

Damon Salvatore

Jeremy Gilbert

Kai Parker

Stefan Salvatore

The Walking Dead

Carl Grimes

Daryl Dixon

Glenn Rhee

Negan Smith

Rick Grimes

True Blood

Eric Northman

Jason Stackhouse

Sam Merlotte

Twilight

Emmett Cullen

Jasper Hale

Paul Lahote

Seth Clearwater

Wizards of Waverly Place

Justin Russo

Real people:

5 Seconds of Summer members (all)

Ateez members (all)

Cody Fern

Jamie Muscato

Sam and Colby

Stray Kids members (all)

The Boyz (all)

Tomorrow x Together members (all)

Request form: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdf15DK07JIGzKMNPC2FrEgP7ces4KfIxTngYcNwvmusaXxGA/viewform?usp=sf_link

[teamred]

works in progress:

logan howlett

can't help myself // wilson!reader, romcom, smut, lil angst

dusk till dawn (bodyguard!logan) // wilson!reader, bickering, smut, fluff

stay tonight (old man!logan) // smut, fluff/tender

wade wilson

stop the world (i wanna get off with you) // friends to fwb to lovers, smut, fluff

logan howlett + wade wilson

home sweet home series: morning or evening sex (see below), day at beach, and more

logan howlett + charles xavier

shameless // dofp!timeline, threesome, smut

requests (no guarantees):

both wade wilson + either peter parker or logan howlett wooing shy!reader, but they decide to work together and share

domestic smut in home sweet home series (wade wilson and logan howlett)

taking care of a younger sibling in home sweet home series (wade wilson and logan howlett)

reader waking up with a nightmare and comfort from the boys in the home sweet home series (wade wilson and logan howlett)

reader with sensitivity to loud noises + logan howlett

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Smutty Smutty One-Shots (Marvel | The Avengers | X-men | Stranger Things | Sherlock | Harry Potter | Walking Dead | Originals | Vampire Diaries | Hunger Games | James Bond | Lord of the Rings | The Punisher | Doctor Who

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4uYVmla

by Lululapino

Just a collection of completely self-indulgent, obscenely filthy smut-shots featuring a bunch of really hot guys we'd all like to fuck

Words: 2048, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Sherlock (TV), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men (Movieverse), Stranger Things (TV 2016), The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Originals (TV), Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who, James Bond (Craig Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Punisher (TV 2017)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Eddie Munson/Reader, Henry Creel | One | Vecna/Reader, Billy Hargrove/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader, Tony Stark/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Loki/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/Loki/Reader, Vision/Reader, Negan Smith/Reader, Negan/reader, Tenth Doctor/Reader, Jack Harkness/Reader, Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness/Reader, Klaus Mikaelson/Reader, Elijah Mikaelson/Reader, Erik Lehnsherr/Reader, Charles Xavier/Reader, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier/Reader, Logan/Reader, Peeta Mellark/Reader, Jim Moriarty/Reader, James Bond/Reader, Damon Salvatore/Reader, Jack Sparrow/Reader, Éomer Éadig/Reader, Will Turner/Reader, Finnick Odair/Reader, Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader, Draco Malfoy/Reader, Rick Grimes/Reader, Billy Russo/Reader

Additional Tags: Smut, Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Body Worship, Rough Body Play, Light BDSM, Knifeplay, Gentle Sex, Dom/sub Play, Threesome - F/M/M, Consensual Non-Consent, Praise Kink, Military Kink, Voice Kink, Breathplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Nipple Play, Loss of Virginity

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4uYVmla

[draculasfavoritewife]

Ashes to Ashes

Summary: Eventually, even the most solemn rituals need to be laid to rest.

Pairing: Emma Frost x Scott Summers

Warnings: Mentions of death, grieving process, literally so much internal angst. Implied smut at the end.

Here's another fic from the depths of my drafts! Scott's PoV is so damn fun to write because he is just so bad at healthily coping with literally everything, my poor traumatized boy. I've always loved how these two have seen each other through their lowest lows and nothing fazes them anymore. They deserve more love <;3

This day comes around every year.

Scott Summers isn’t sure why that fact always surprises him. Years work like that after all, don’t they, cycling around again and again with the same dates and the same occasions. 

He retreats inside himself more on this day than any of the others, buries himself in the deadliest Danger Room exercises and pushes his students harder in the classroom. Those who have known him the longest know why he is like this, today of all days. They’ve learned to respect his space and not ask how he is feeling anymore. He doesn’t appreciate anyone’s pity. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t even know how he feels on this day anymore. He just knows that he does feel, and that for this day above all others, he wishes he didn’t. 

It’s the one day out of the year he envies Emma, with her shining diamond skin and frigid heart, when she can’t feel pain or confusion or love. Normally he tells her he doesn’t understand the attraction of such an alternative. 

Now, as he divides his attention between his manufactured enemy and her scintillating figure to his right as she crushes down her own opponent, he can see the appeal. 

She smirks at him from atop the smoking pile of rubble that once was a mutant-hunting machine. “I know I’m gorgeous, Scott. You don’t have to stare at me like a starving wolf to prove it.” 

He loves her bluntness, her sarcasm. Knows the rest of the team finds her abrasive and difficult to get along with, so why do her scathing tongue and shameless innuendos feel like a cool breeze on a hot day to him? 

“I didn’t think my expression changed,” he tosses back, allowing himself the fierce satisfaction of letting his pent-up energy loose, tearing apart the android before him into so much twisted metal. 

“It didn’t. But the intention is there.” 

Hell, she’s right. She knows him better than he knows himself, cliché as that sounds. 

He wonders, with a wave of emotion he can’t decipher, if Emma even knows him better than SHE did. 

Session finished for the day, the headmaster and headmistress of the Xavier Institute part ways briefly to shower up. Normally this is a shared activity, but although she is the one person who refuses to tiptoe around him on this day, she knows exactly what today is, and why he might not be up for her company in such an intimate way at the moment. So she leaves him alone with his thoughts for the time being, which may be more curse than blessing. 

He wonders, as he studies himself in the mirror through the tinted lenses of his glasses, if SHE would even recognize him anymore. They’ve all changed in the years since she’s been gone. Looking at him, most would say him the least of all. But he knows better.

It goes beyond the brand names on the tags of his shirts, deeper than the scent of the new cologne he likes now, further than the fact that he lets his hair grow out longer than he ever felt was proper before. 

He hears the whispers that surround them, translates the subtext that underlies pointed looks and tense postures. They both know what the others say about them, that Emma manipulates him, messes with his head to make him be with her. That’s the best of the rumors — the rest are much more crass. He ignores them, because they couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Scott is a sadder and wiser man than he was years ago, with a different outlook on things. He’s jaded, lost a little bit of that idealistic nature which so defined him for the first couple of decades he lived here. And Emma Frost understands that, in a way none of the others ever will. 

As if his brooding thoughts have summoned her — always a possibility — she appears in his doorway, purse slung over her shoulder and car keys dangling from her slender fingers. “Come on, Mr. Summers. I’ve grown tired of your moping. We’re going out.” 

“We are?” She’s taken him by surprise. He sounds dumb, asking it like that. She isn’t making a suggestion, she’s stating fact. 

“Yes. We are.” She stares him down in the mirror. “I’m going shopping, and you will enjoy yourself. And then we are taking a miniature vacation.” 

“Vacation?! Em, I can’t just up and leave with no warning —” 

“Shush.” Her flawlessly manicured fingertip closes his lips. “You can, and you are. It’s one night, Scott. Dinner and a hotel room. I’ve taken care of reservations already, and you do know how I hate to cancel things like this.” 

He knows, all right. He wouldn’t be so good at things like giving back rubs and painting a woman’s nails if he hadn’t needed to apologize to her for making her cancel so many times before. He can’t think of a better reason to refuse than saying he just wants to sit in the dark and simmer in his ambiguously mingled grief and anger all night, and she won’t take that as an excuse. 

She probably wants a better partner in bed than that, too. 

So he nods and packs an overnight bag and follows her on her spontaneous trip downtown. Though with Emma, things are rarely spontaneous. This is a premeditated move, and he is at a loss for exactly what she is trying to accomplish. 

If her aim is simply to get his mind off what today means to him, she succeeds. Scott ponders his partner at every stop they make. Sometimes it frustrates him, that she continues to hold up her rich girl image, treating most people as if they are beneath her as she speeds her immaculate white car past the common folk like a runaway goddess. But it makes her love that much more special to him. It’s intoxicating, that she only shows her true colors around him. He’s seen her cry, seen her motherly affection for the students in their care despite her insistence she’d be a terrible mother, felt how deeply she is in love with him, despite his many flaws. Yes, she’s imperfect, but instead of that fact pushing him away, he adores how she owns her imperfections, wearing them on her sleeve as beautifully as she wears everything else. 

She models her new purchases for him, back at the hotel, and he is struck once again by how confidently she carries herself, especially when wearing next to nothing. He told her once that he wished he had half of her self-assurance, and still remembers how she laughed him off, saying confidence is as much of an illusion as anything she could plant in someone’s head. 

Does she know how much that simple piece of advice has helped him since? 

Dinner is wonderful. He can’t remember the last time it was just the two of them alone, without the surrounding backdrop of stares and disapproval, and it feels good. She’s a genius, and he’s always known that, but he never gets tired of how it makes her smirk whenever he realizes that anew. 

They’re on the balcony outside their suite now, half-empty champagne flutes in hand as they watch the sunset. The sky is on fire, he thinks, and it reminds him of another time, years ago, when the sky caught fire and he lost someone who was very important to him at the time. 

It is, after all, the anniversary of the day SHE died. 

Emma sighs beside him, her gaze firmly fixed on the bubbles in her drink. “Some people find it healthier to talk about what troubles them, Scott.” 

“I don’t know where to begin,” he answers simply. “It’s been so long and not long enough all at once. I can’t tell anymore whether I’m still grieving, or if this is more of a ritual for me now than anything else.” 

“You’re afraid of the answer either way,” she observes. 

Scott supposes that’s true. He’s never let go of things easily, nor does he handle change well. But he knows change is good.

Maybe it’s finally time to move on. 

“The past has had its time in the sun,” she adds. “It’s not a sin to enjoy the present without it weighing you down.” 

That makes him think. He’s always so wrapped up in himself on this day every year, that he hasn’t really thought about how it affects her. And he sees through her occasional bitter comments and accusations, that for all her projected ego, she still thinks she isn’t good enough for him. She’s afraid he’s more in love with a dead memory than the gloriously imperfect queen who shares every aspect of his life in the here and now. 

He’s been selfish. 

So he talks about it, and she’s the only one he’d ever express any of this to. 

“I did love her,” he recalls, and he realizes with curiosity that he’s used the past tense. “But with hindsight, we rushed into it. She was my first crush, and even once we were serious, a part of me thinks I was still a schoolboy emotionally. It took me so long to realize that we’d been together through our whole adolescence, and neither of us knew who we were without the other. I used to think that was a good thing, to be defined by someone else.” 

“I know the feeling.” Emma’s tone is chilly, and he knows some of the names she’s thinking of. Names that have no place on either of their tongues, and so remain unsaid. 

“It’s funny,” he says after a moment of solemn silence. “You’re the only person who can make me spill my guts like this, you know that?” He pauses before continuing. “You challenge me, Em. You’re the one that forced me to relearn myself. I don’t know where I would be without you.” 

“Drunk in a dive bar somewhere, no doubt. Possibly sleeping in the gutter.” 

He has to laugh at that. Not many people make him laugh, but Emma’s brand of dark humor seems to do so more often than most. And she might be correct. 

She raises her glass. “To Jean.” 

It’s a simple gesture, a two-word sentence she says nonchalantly, almost carelessly, and Scott is no telepath, but he can feel how painful it is for those two words to pass the threshold of her shapely lips. And he doesn’t think he’s ever loved her more. 

“To the present,” he replies firmly, touching his own glass to hers. “And to what’s really important.” 

They embrace, almost savagely. She kisses him, teasing his patience until his self-control lapses and he catches at her bottom lip with his teeth. 

“There you are,” she purrs, hooking a long nail under the collar of his shirt. “Let’s do this somewhere more private, shall we?” 

He follows her inside, only too happy to oblige. 

Much later, as they lie tangled together in the dark, he reflects on the relationship they’ve built. There is a fundamental difference between what he has with Emma and what he once shared with the redheaded girl who used to rule his thoughts. 

It is, perhaps, best illustrated by how they each handled having a lover with his unique curse. Jean loved him despite the fact that he must always wear lenses over his eyes. She didn’t need to see all of him to love him, and as an insecure teenage boy, that meant the world to him. 

Emma insists on removing his glasses whenever they have a moment, her diamond body the perfect answer to the devastating energy that his eyes pour out incessantly. She is not only safe from his destructive power, she willingly takes it inside her just so they can share a few moments of eye contact without obstruction, without any barrier between them. 

He asked Jean once, if he could look at her without his glasses. He still remembers how she used her telekinetic abilities to hold back the raging flood from his eyes so that he could. It’s a fitting metaphor.

He had to hold back for Jean. 

Emma lets him be nothing more or less than himself, even if that means he’s angry or selfish or stubborn. Just like with his eyes, she can take whatever he can dish out, and only asks for his authenticity in return. She sees all of him, unadulterated, and loves him because of his flaws, his humanity, not in spite of them as he once thought. 

He hugs her closer, his head resting on her stomach, her fingers stroking through his hair. “I love you,” he murmurs against her skin. 

“And I love you, Darling. What are you thinking about?” 

“Em, I’m thinking I really needed this, and a vacation might not be such a bad idea. Just you and me — travel for a week or two, hit up some of our favorite haunts —” 

“I’m glad you finally came to that conclusion on your own, Lover,” she interrupts. “Because I already took the liberty of booking a couple of places in Europe with that very aim in mind. You need to get away and have a good time for a bit.” 

“You scheming minx.” His voice warms with affection. “We can take the Blackbird, too, so you won’t have to endure anything as lowbrow as waiting for security checks at an airport.” 

“Mmm. Lovely idea. You do know I find Maverick Pilot Scott a real hot turn-on.” 

“Then that’s settled. Kiss me, Emma?” 

She does, and Scott realizes that, much as he hates being played, he really doesn’t find it at all unpleasant if Emma is the one behind the game. 

[adnauseum11]

Northern Attitude Ch 9

“Me too.” She breathed and he looked up at her, her pulse already fluttering under his palm. She shifted above him, moving her legs to bring her hips into better alignment with his. Mac kissed him as her weight settled onto him, making him groan into her mouth, tugging on the base of her braid again. His hands were slow, making a meal out of getting her free from her cardigan and tracing the shape of her body under her shirt. She broke away from his mouth with a gasp when he tweaked her nipples, making her back arch. Logan used the opportunity to tug her shirt over her head, throwing it without looking. She looked down at his intense face, his palms cupping her breasts, her bra tugged low. His eyes were locked on her dusky pink nipples, inches from his face. She watched as his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth wrapped around one tightened bud, her palm instantly cupping the back of his head to keep him close. He groaned against her skin, the sound and vibration making her nerve endings sing. He leaned back, releasing her hard nipple with a pop and undid her bra, tugging the useless fabric from her body and throwing it in the same vague direction as the rest of her clothes. She bit her lip as his eyes stayed locked on her tits and tugged on his hair hard enough to finally break his concentration, the pale ring of blue nearly obliterated by the dilated black of his pupils.

Northern Attitude (48110 words) by Ad_nauseum Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Logan (X-Men)/Original Female Character, Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Clint Barton/Laura Barton Characters: Logan (X-Men), James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Hank McCoy, Bruce Banner, Charles Xavier, Kurt Wagner, Pepper Potts, Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Matt Murdock, Nick Fury Additional Tags: no beta we die like women, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Needs Therapy, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Avengers Compound, Protective Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Captain America Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Protective Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Frenemies Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson is not here for your shit, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Alcoholic OFC, Depression, Suicide Attempt, Canada Olympic Women's Hockey Team Ensemble, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Genius Tony Stark, Sassy Bucky Barnes, Sassy Steve Rogers, Logan is a Softie (X-Men), Protective Logan (X-Men), martial arts master Logan, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Original Character(s), X-Men References, Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, SHIP DARCY LEWIS WITH ALL THE THINGS, Therapist Sam Wilson, I'll Probably Keep Adding Tags, Medical Doctor Hank McCoy, Mental Health Issues, Logan has forgotten more about combat than you'll ever know, Logan in love is a dangerous man, hello unstoppable force, meet immovable object, Hockey, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Spy Natasha Romanov, Penis In Vagina Sex, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs Series: Part 3 of The Labyrinth Song Summary: As former Olympian Mackenzie Drouin tries to navigate life as a new amputee, her freshly minted boyfriend is reluctantly drawn into another intrigue. With the Winter Solider needing intervention before being cleared for field work again, the Avengers are down not one, but multiple members. They turn to Logan for help in filling the gap - only to have things go even further off the rails when worlds collide.

[novemberwasgrey]

Summary: Wednesday and Xavier’s date takes a slightly hot turn.

(Sequel to 'Woe-mour has it' but you can also read without.)

~

Y'all... I wrote Wenvier smut, I'm a shameless mess.

[ao3feed-wenvier]

The Dark Prom

by novemberwasgrey

Wednesday is ready to take her relationship with Xavier to the next level.

(Sequel to 'Woe-mour has it' and 'I know if I'm haunting you, you must be on to me' but you can also read without.)

Words: 1748, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Wednesday and Xavier's Woeful Sex Journey

Fandoms: Wednesday (TV 2022)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Underage

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Xavier Thorpe, Ajax Petropolus/Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair

Additional Tags: First Time, Consensual Underage Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, 69 (Sex Position), Shameless Smut, Fluff and Smut, Wednesday Addams is Bad at Feelings, Wednesday Addams is Soft for Xavier Thorpe, Xavier Thorpe is Whipped, they're just obsessed with each other okay? that's how I like them, Good Friend Enid Sinclair

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50481805

[animentality]

Ive seen more than one post about fanfics with latin titles being great from you

Have you read something you'd like to share with the class

AHEM.

That post was a joke, mostly because I love fanfics that are longer than 70k, and are filled with filthy sex, hence the excessive tagging. I am a shameless lover of smut who also happens to appreciate it when the author goes off the rails and literally writes like 40+ chapters of plot heavily infused with sex.

The Latin title reference was just a little nod and smile to those authors who call their stories cogito ergo sum or carpe diem or mea culpa or veni vidi vici or in vino veritas.

Not every long fanfic has a Latin title, but I have noticed quite a few filthy smut fics of variable length with Latin titles. Conversely, I have read a lot of non Latin titles with a ridiculous word count. They combined to form my meme post about Latin named fanfics that are super long, heavily tagged, and goated literature.

That being said.

I was thinking about two fics in particular and you ASKED so you're not allowed to judge me.

Not strictly in Latin but a Latin phrase nonetheless:

The stars incline us, they do not bind us - a Charles Xavier x Erik Lensherr fanfic by gerec and ikeracity that's literally a veritable novel and the best sex filled slow burn ever written:

Dis Alitur Vitum- another slow burn with a lot of sex, Chrollo x Kurapika (don't fucking judge me I just like enemies to lovers ok), literally doesn't start having graphic sex until 70k but when it starts, it's a doozy:

So there.

You combine these two together and you get basically the basis of those fanfic posts.

[lexwritess]

I JUST HIT 300 FOLLOWERS!!!!

THANK YALL SM ILY ALL FR

since i hit another 100 followers you know that means

character ships

ships will be open march 4-march 10

i will do ships for the following fandoms

marvel

american horror story

stranger things

shameless

criminal minds

freaks and geeks

here are the rules

i should be fairly quick with them because it’s the weekend and i don’t have any school work <3

again THANK YOU

[heir-of-talon]

LEGION - chapter 35.5 - Are we out of the woods yet?

This chapter happens between Chapter 35 and Chapter 36 of "Legion" by Julie Kagawa. After rejecting Sallith'tahn bond to Cobalt, Ember drives away from the farmhouse with Garret, to meet with Tristan and warn him about impending Night of Fang and Fire. Underway they stop in the woods to take a short break.

The series needs some smut, come on! They're supposed to be 17 and madly in love. Also logistics of human - dragon sex are just too exciting to pass up.

Ember

Exhausted from not being able to sleep after the nightmare last night I dozed off immediately after our departure. I woke up with a jerk, when the engine of the old pick up truck, we've borrowed from Jess, stopped abruptly. We were in a small clearing in a copse of trees, or maybe a forest, few yards away from a narrow dirt road visible through the trees .

"Why have we stopped?" I asked Garret, who looked at me with a mix of warmth and wariness. "Toilet break" he quickly exited the car and disappeared behind a tree. Slowly I did the same, but as I was looking for a good spot to squat, my foggy mind suddenly caught up with what was wrong. I was surrounded by merry chirping of birds, steady buzzing of insects and quiet... there was no sound of traffic, nor could I smell any fumes. We must have drove quite way away from the main road.

Garret was leaning on the car, when I came back. Seeing him there and us being here all alone made me forget all about my confusion and weariness. I strode straight into his embrace and he pressed his cheek to mine inhaling deeply. I could feel his heart beating in his chest and I felt warmth spreading through my stomach. For a while I just savored the touch and the peace, then I pulled away to look into his face. "Where are we? What's going on?"

"I saw a road leading away towards this forest and followed it. I wanted to be alone with you before the Night of Fang and Fire". Garret explained. "We never have time, and now our time can be running out. I just wanted a break before the next fight, next time when I can die or lose you." He buried his face in my shoulder his arms tightening around me.

Well, I couldn't begrudge him that, I too have longed for his proximity for having him all to myself. Fighting, running and narrowly escaping death was wearing on me. And all it took to make me feel all right, was him wrapping his arms around me. I sighed with delight hugging him tighter and then he lifted his head and kissed me gently looking into my eyes with awe and longing. I felt his soft lips on mine, tasted his sweet breath and parted my lips inviting him to deepen the kiss, as I combed my fingers through his fair hair. I could feel his body's answer, and he pulled away question in his eyes, his face flushed.

I paused, I thought about us having sex ever since Crescent Beach and Lexi's untimely interference at the party, but it was far from happy thoughts only. My human body was complete with all the organs and functions, yet I got an impression, that humans and dragons... just don't do this. Also intense arousal draw my dragon forth and by shifting in such proximity I risked hurting Garret, all the other possible disastrous consequences aside. Yet I did want him and I wanted to give him all I could.

I smiled and said "Talon taught me, that my human form is fully functional, you know" my voice came out husky and I could feel hot blush spreading down my throat. It sounded way more seductive in my head. He froze for a split-second looking puzzled, but then relaxed slightly. "Ember, I don't want you to do anything against yourself. I love you and I want to be close to you, but you don't owe me anything. Especially anything unnatural or disgusting to you". My heart sank "You'll never be disgusting to me Garret! I love you too and I want you too. It's just that... dragons mate in their true form and I am not sure if I can control it, when the... lust takes over"

I dropped my gaze, shame burning away last of the desire that was kindling in me few minutes ago. I felt him tense, but he pulled me close resting his cheek on my head "Ember" his voice was shaking "I had no idea" he cupped my face and forced me to lift my face. "Look at me. I love you. We don't need to mate if it's not safe. I thought honestly, that sex was off the table for us... It hurt to have these feelings towards you and believing, that you will never understand them, that they may be repulsive to you. Knowing that you feel the same..." He smiled and kissed me, his arms wrapping tightly around me again. And I answered his kiss relieved. He smelled wonderfully, faint traces of soap and washing powder refined by the smell of his body. I wanted him, some part of me longed to be "normal" ever since I have kissed him for the first time. Live a normal life with love, family... I shut my eyes tight against the weight of my thoughts.

"I want to try" I said and he paused. "If we go slowly we can stop before it becomes dangerous..." I trailed off unsure. He peered at me with unreadable expression and I felt very exposed, fear of rejection returning momentarily. How much strangeness would he be willing to accept? He has been rather large regarding the Sallith'tahn bond, but this was concerning him more. Maybe we will never be able to be together like that...

Then he slowly turned and gently made me lean against the car, while his lips found mine again with a soft sigh. I was terrified at my own boldness and felt awkward. His eyes were open and he was watching me with strange intensity, his hands resting on my bare arms sending pleasant warmth into my body, frozen with something like fear even though it was a warm summer day. He stepped closer and our bodies met again. He gently kissed my cheek, my temple and my hair watching me all the time, sliding his hands down to gently squeeze my cold hands hanging loosely at my sides and then up to my neck and face. He kissed me again cupping my face in his both hands. Garret's gentleness and focus made some knot untie in my chest and I answered his kiss with a soft moan, my body relaxing. I braced my hands on his chest and then slid them down his stomach feeling his warm muscled body through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. His kisses grew more hungry, he kissed my jaw and my neck as he slid his hands over my body, feeling my waist, my stomach and then circling my breast. I felt warmth of his hand and concentrated on the caress that sent thrill through my body. It felt different from the other times, we were alone, nobody would interrupt us, I could give in to this. Garret slid his hand down to where my bare thighs emerged from under my shorts, he lifted me slightly and hooked my thigh around his hips. I tasted his tongue and I wanted to get even closer, become one, devour him... I heard Garret's heart beating fast and felt him stiffen against me. Heat flooded my body, my pussy suddenly aching and wet, I started to grind my hips against his. I slid my hand between us resting it on his cock and rubbing it gently through his jeans. Garret pulled away pinning me to the side of the car with his hands, his grey eyes seeking mine with pained expression. "I took bedrolls, they're in the car" his voice was low and strained as he kissed me once more and then moved me to the side to open the doors and pull out our bedrolls. He quickly spread them on the cargo bed of the car. "Come" he lifted me up to the bed and climbed up with me. My soldier sat on the bedroll resting his back against the back of the car and pulled me down to sit beside him.

For a while he just held me in his arms kissing me and then our hands started their roaming again. I tugged at his t-shirt and he swiftly pulled it off revealing sculpted chest and stomach. My hand reached to trace one fainted scar on his chest. He grabbed my hand and kissed my fingers, the inside of my palm, my wrist our eyes locked with intensity sending a thrill down my spine. I leaned forward, my lips brushing his mouth, his chest and stomach. I could smell his skin and something else, strange and exciting. He sighed deeply and pulled me up against his chest again. I paused to take off my t-shirt and straddled his waist. He cupped my bare breast gently but then "Is that OK?". "Yes" I covered his hand with mine and he started circling my breasts his fingers delicately brushing my nipples. His hand sending tingling sensation spreading to my heart and belly. I kissed him again surrendering to the pleasure of his touch. My hands petting his hair and shoulders. My pussy throbbed with desire and I moaned softly begging for more... for something. Garrets strong hands clasped my arms and guided me to lay beside him instead, as he shifted to face me. He caressed my ass through my shorts. I started to pull down my shorts and hipsters, almost angrily and he helped. I was naked in front of him. There was no shame no hesitation as his eyes devoured me. I felt no apprehension like with Riley who often insisted that nudity was natural for dragons. This here felt natural at last. Garret's hand touched my hip, my thigh, my red hair, while his lips kissed my throat and breasts, he whispered "Ember" and I wanted him to see me, to touch me. "Take off your pants too" I breathed and he obeyed quickly. He was clearly as aroused as me, his dick stiff and wet at the tip, blush covering his face and chest. He was beautiful and I looked at him hungrily not at all bashful.

He laid beside me and pulled me close his arm wrapped tight around me, his other hand brushed my breast, traced lazily down to my belly. I felt my juices wetting the inside of my thigh. Garret combed his fingers through damp red hair covering my pussy. "Ember" he looked at me, his eyes darkened with desire, a trace of concerned frown on his forehead "Do you want me to touch you there?" "Yes" I spread my thighs granting him access to the wet heat in between. He touched slippery inside of my thigh and I could see his cock twitching. His fingers brushed my hair and stopped cupping my wet throbbing pussy in his strong warm hand. "Tell me how" he whispered. I reached down, my fingers gliding down and up my vaginal lips, tracing lazy circles around my clit. Garret's hand started to mimic my moves while he let me lay down on the bed roll, his other arm under the small of my back and kissed my stomach. Sensations flooded me at his loving gaze and the gentle touch of his hands. And then he touched my clit with a fingertip slick from my juices and I arched my back and moaned loudly my hips twitching, begging for more. He smiled and continued for a while before he moved to lie down between my legs, kissed my stomach, buried his nose in my red hair and inhaled deeply. I felt his tongue licking my pussy and then his lips closed around my clitoris, sucking gently. Garrets warm fingers caressed my entrance and the other hand held my breast, fingers playing with the nipple. Time and space ceased to exist for me. I breathed heavily trying to quench some of the heat erupting from the center of my body at the pleasure of Garret's touch. My fingers reached to his head caressing his pale hair, my hips twisted in tiny circles wanting more and not being able to stand the intensity of the caress. "Garret no!" I pushed his head away as my body erupted with heat that I barely managed to contain. He rose slightly but stayed close, his hand now caressing me, where his mouth have been a moment before his other hand on my stomach. I looked into his metallic grey eyes watching me tenderly as he kissed the inside of my thigh. I breathed and writhed and moaned while I struggled to stay in my skin and keep the scorching heat away from Garret's loving fingers. Spasm went through my body as I climaxed a shout of pleasure escaping my lips. Garret hissed and snatched his hand away but stayed close kneeling between my legs and watching me as spasms overtook my body, heat threatening to erupt any moment. I needed that gaze, I needed this feeling that I can show myself to him. I breathed through the urge to shift into my dragon form and blast him to cinders.

He sensed my temperature plummeting when my orgasm ceased and laid down next to me, pulling me into strong embrace and kissing my forehead. "You are beautiful" he breathed and I started crying, all the tension and fear of past weeks leaving my body. He pulled a blanket over us and held me until sobbing stopped. Garret's warm body against mine a solid proof, that I was not alone, that I was all right. "Thank you" I whispered. "I'm so..." "Ember don't... Don't apologize. It was beautiful to me too" I could see the truth in his eyes, love and desire still there, I kissed the fingers of his hand smelling faintly of me, though slightly warm there was no redness or other signs of burn, I was relieved at that.

After a while I looked up at him "I want to touch you too". "Sure" he answered with a gentle squeeze of one arm. I shifted to kiss him while I lazily petted his chest, his stomach and lower, where my hand found his dick resting among soft hair, still stiff. I wrapped my fingers around it feeling smooth soft skin and the throbbing hardness under. He moaned softly into my mouth. "Tell me how?" I breathed feeling warmth and wetness spreading between my thighs again. His hand covered mine and he turned it slightly, so my thumb rested against the underside of his cock, and then he moved our hands up to the tip and down to where I could feel the soft skin on his balls. I let him guide my hand for a while marveling at the beauty of him, his pupils were so big, that his steely eyes seemed black, his lips were red and swollen, he was flushed and breathed heavily. I kissed him greedily and started to caress his dick, mimicking the moves he showed me and alternating them, to also touch his testicles and perineum. He bent one knee to grant me easier access, his hand squeezing and caressing my breast as his lips parted letting my tongue roam. For a while I let myself touch him for the sheer enjoyment of the trust and closeness of it, before I've found the rhythm again and pleasured him the way he showed me. I was aroused again and I moaned into his mouth and writhed slightly lying against his side. Suddenly the cock in my hand got even harder and Garret groaned loudly into my mouth, muscles on his stomach tensing as he came on my hand, my thigh, his stomach and the blanket still partly covering us. I stopped kissing him and watched fascinated at small spasms of his face and body, his eyes closed. He shouted my name finally letting go of the last of control as pleasure took over. I lied beside him, trembling, watching his face relax and feeling as if I was seeing him for the first time, marveling at the feeling of all this.

I lifted my hand to my mouth and first sniffed, then tasted his seed from my fingers, it was earthy and slightly bitter and I loved it instantly. Steely eyes opened and met mine, love, gratitude and something else, something raw shining there. He reached for his t-shirt and used it to wipe his seed off our bodies. "Are you finished with that?" Garret indicated my fingers and I nodded. He wiped my hand with a dry corner left, turned the blanket around, pulled me so I lied flush against his body with my head resting on his shoulder, and covered us again. His eyes closed his face relaxed. I let him rest, while reveling in the touch of our bodies and the quiet piece of the forest around us. I was about to drift away when I heard Garret. "Ember? We better get going".

He wrested his shoulder from under my head, kissed my breast, gave my hip a squeeze with his hand, got up and handed me my clothes. My panties were wet, so I pulled on my t-shirt and jumped off the cargo bed to find my extra change of clothes. Garret paused with his pants in his hand and stared at me. I felt blush crawling up my cheeks. "What?" I looked at him. His dick, now relaxed, rested against his muscled thigh, his body toned and strong. I felt sad seeing numerous pale scars covering his arms and legs and those still pink from, where the Patriarch cut and shot him. Suddenly I couldn't help thinking about how vulnerable he was, constantly in danger and now on the way to another battle. For a moment possessiveness of a dragon rose in me. He was mine, I wanted to hide him from the world, guard him, keep him for myself, never let him go. I shook my head. Single rays of sun kissed his skin through the canopy of leaves over our heads. "You're beautiful " we blurted simultaneously, and smiled happily. We got dressed and were soon on our way.

"Well I did not shift" I started. He smiled "No you didn't." "Garret. Do you think that we can ever go all the way?" He smiled mischievously "I think we should train this a bit more. I am sure I have seen sparkles riding on your breath there." He answered with self-satisfied smirk. "I know" There were so many other questions, that I had no answers to, that would affect our lives, if we lived... Sensing the change in my mood Garret changed the topic. "Thank you Ember. It meant a lot to me. You were wonderful and I want us to do this again. Damn it, if not for the Night of Fang and Fire I would turn around now to do this right away" I believed him, I felt the same way. Garret's words set me at ease. We were going to do this again. We could not die now. And I knew that Garret felt it as well. We will fight for the better world and live to fuck another day.

"How far from the road are we Garret?" I asked as the dirt road lead us between the trees and... more trees. He smiled guiltily "Not that far yet". You, I thought but I could not hold it against him. I felt so happy. Now that I have finally rejected Sallith'tahn bond to Cobalt, I was free to love Garret with all I had, and damn me, if I didn't intend to do just that. I fell asleep smiling before we reached the main road.

It can be done! I didn't make it up!