#the ones that happen in holiday movies

[barachiki]

J: So in summary: We received a call from the North Pole saying Santa was missing somewhere in his London stretch of his voyage.

S: Correct.

J: And we are required to "Save Christmas."

S: Also correct.

J: We tracked down the stolen presents, freed the reindeer, located the kidnappers and rescued Santa.

S: Succinctly put.

J: Should probably mention some of this to Lestrade... you think he will believe us?

S: If he wants to remain on the nice list.

[velvet4510]

For all my fellow vintage movie fans out there. Share a couple from a classic film who you think deserve more attention! (Be sure to check out round 2, round 3, round 4, and round 5.) Please reblog for bigger sample size. :)

[tveitertotwrites]

I did one of these the other day and I decided to change my list.

Anyone can join in.

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 24 - If only I could dream in a little less colour

Scogan Bingo challenge Neighbors AU

Scott would have easily made it in time if it hadn’t been for Charles of course using the excuse of today's date for a courtesy call, meaning yet another badly disguised attempt at trying and get Scott to change his mind. And these kinds of conversations you didn’t want to have on your mobile on the street and the subway unless you wanted half of New York to learn, you happened to be both a former teacher in a mutant school and the no-longer aspiring leader of a mutant military group not too long weeks ago. Not a good idea, with how, once more, alarmingly mutant-unfriendly the mood in general public felt lately, especially since the news of the Cure had broken.

It took Scott almost 20 minutes before he managed to end that damn call as just hanging up on his foster father would only have meant being forced, having to continue the argument telepathically. By that time, he had to all but run to the elevator to not lose even more precious time. And that was how he came to make the first crucial decision that night, upon realizing that said outdated transport cabin luckily was right on his floor, only its doors were just about to close. "Wait! Hold it, please!" Much to his annoyance, whoever was inside the lift ignored his shout so that he had to go even faster, slipping through the far too narrow gap between the closing doors at the last moment. Another day, he might have given an irritated comment about rudeness but with both his anxiety and his excitement about the upcoming procedure at the City Hall growing by the second, he wasn’t feeling like starting a fight right now.

Not to mention that one glance at the guy at the other side of the cabin let Scott know, he'd probably only have gotten a grunt for an answer anyway. It was the maintenance guy. Figured. Scott had only run into that certain, notoriously nonverbal neighbor a couple of times since moving in here but that had been enough for quickly deciding that giving that attractive muscular, slightly stocky shape any attention? Best to be filed under delusional fantasies, judging by the utter lack of interest in interacting with the building tenants that this dude displayed. Probably he'd only found himself thinking about that rugged, remarkably handsome face more than once lately in the first place because he'd seen the guy get himself hurt pushing waste containers one day from afar, and promptly instantly heal.

Not something Scott had had expected, but for the sake of his already skyrocketing paranoia about Charles possibly sending someone after him to spy on him, he'd decided that in a city overpopulated with all kinds of enhanced like this … It wasn’t that unusual, two mutants living in the same fairly huge apartment complex.

Either way, for feral guy, Scott didn’t have any patience for right now. Not with how especially slowly this damn elevator crept downwards today. It was only when he paced the small space unusually restlessly for his usual control of body and mind, and something crunched under his boot, that he realized, the dirty PVC ground was covered with lanterns and garlands in probably a whole range of flashy colors that Scott couldn’t make out thanks to his glasses. Given the occasion, the words that the half-torn and scrambled letters on some of them spelled out were still easy to guess. So this was where all that stuff had ended up that had brightened the grey, homogenous corridors of the apartment hallways just a few hours ago still.

"Yeah, I took it down. Big fucking deal," the stranger hissed, apparently noticing Scott's confused frown. "Not allowed on general space anyway. Fire hazard and shit. I'm not getting my paycheck cut for some holiday kitsch."

Scott held up one hand in surrender, determined not to let anyone ruin was what supposed to be his best day since he'd fallen out of an exploding plain as a kid with his baby brother in his arms. "Not my decorations." Another restless glance at his watch let him know he had still two more minutes to get to the station right outside the door which usually should be more than sufficient. Except every single street of this city would be overcrowded today, and with Scott always having to make painstakingly sure to keep his distance from other people if he didn’t want to risk any accidents with his glasses … For example, like almost tripping over his own nervous feet when the elevator cabin suddenly came to a halt, between two floors, and most of the half-blind neon spots on the ceiling went out. His brain needed a moment to catch on before new worry landed a solid blow to his punch, not unlike all these hits he'd been taking in the combat training he'd been undergoing from the age of fifteen on. "What the …? Oh no, no, no, this cannot be happening right now. I got a damn appointment."

When janitor guy, alarmingly unfazed, had the nerve to reach for a cigar in his shirt pocket before sitting down on the narrow bench on the cabin's side with a resigned sigh, Scott let out a growl of his own at the man for once. With two hectic steps, he was at the emergency phone on the wall, only to find that there wasn’t even a dial tone. "What …? This thing's dead!"

"Bub, you seen this place before you moved in here? Why do you think rent's so low? Everything in here is kept together by superglue and goodwill." The stranger lit his cigar, entirely ignoring the warning glare of red from behind Scott's glasses.

"Well, that's just great. So how about you call these people who write your checks on your mobile then?"

"You ever look at your calendar this morning, shades guy? Or out of the window? Who exactly do you think works today?" The man rested one leg on the other knee in continuous, nerve-wracking patience, a half-amused, half-lenient grin on his lips when Scott, in spite of his growing trepidation, couldn’t help but stare at the fascinating game of those thick thigh muscles under a worn, far too tight pair of jeans.

"Pretty sure a couple of guys with fancy car sirens do." Not ready to give up, Scott reached for his own phone though part of him already knew better. He'd indeed been very well aware when he'd left the comfortably wealthy life at Charles' behind, that a big city came not only with safe anonymity but also with the according social and technical issues, including those of the only place he could afford on his new small garage shop salary. Far too much lead in the walls causing basically non-existent reception in the hallways was just one of those. "Fuck!"

"You are the kid who moved into 5B last month, right? You seriously didn’t get stuck in here yet?" The stranger raised his brows at him when Scott continued to walk through the cabin with one hand clenched into a fist, feverishly going through possible options in his head.

"Some people like to keep their body healthy and use the stairs." Scott got only even more pissed off, not least because of the still-burning cigar. If he'd had his damn VISOR on him, he might have shot the simmering tip off just on principle. But not to mention, janitor dude on his part surely had no idea that they were part of the same species, Scott couldn’t even focus on seriously complaining right now. Not when he was dreading more and more, not making it to his meeting in time, and had no idea when he'd be invited to a new one. With those feelings, he seemed to be alone in this lift though. "You really don’t give a fuck about being stuck, huh?"

"Why should I? I don't got an appointment." With that, the stranger went back to smoking, staring up at the semi-darkness of the empty shaft above them through the grated ceiling.

There was an idea at least. The walls of this damn building were paper-thin which Scott knew thanks to already being perfectly able to tell when his neighbor on his left came home to scream at his wife about unpaid pills and when the prostitute on the other side of the hall started working. Maybe if he could get someone's attention, they could call 911 … "Hello? Anyone out there? Guys, this is 5B! Elevator's down! Hello? Guys, this is really urgent! I really need to get downtown! Can anyone hear me?" For a few more seconds, he listened to the silence almost deafening thanks to the broken elevator motor and a building probably basically empty thanks to everyone out partying already, only his own quickening, uneven breathing sounding through the cabin, and the unnerving long drags on that damn cigar from a few feet away … When nothing but silence was the answer, and a surprisingly compassionate headshake from the stranger, as the guy's surely enhanced senses could probably make it out that there wasn’t anyone within earshot, Scott cowered down on the cabin floor, trying to get his breathing under control and not to let the threatening panic choke him.

****

"Still nothing." Once he'd gotten his heartbeat back under control, Scott threw another glance at his phone display, without any hope, but still couldn’t see a single bar.

He probably deserved the next shrug from that bench over there that didn’t need a translation into feral to know which two words it expressed.

Fine. Waiting it was then. He could still make it to the City Hall if someone from the outside would notice the elevator not working anytime soon and call help. Even with so many residents not being at home, that was a pretty surefire bet. Scott had been seldom so grateful for the exact habit that had annoyed Jean so much in the end, of always overplanning things and never going anywhere without a generous time window if he could. He just needed to keep his mind focused on the task at hand lest he'd possibly start overthinking again what he was so dead set on doing tonight, after it had taken him so long to make this decision in the first place. Means of distraction, sadly, weren’t really available for the moment. Well, if anything, this stupid situation at least offered another chance at finding out more about this mysterious stranger whose damn name Scott still didn’t even know. "So, no going out on your part today?"

"I'm not a masochist." The man let out a huff and vaguely gestured towards the building exits. "Why would anyone of their sane mind hit town on New Year's? All these primitives out there who can't hold their liquor, starting fights left and right? Not exactly safe for the likes of us." Well, that answered the question if the guy had guessed by now why Scott didn’t take off his glasses in spite of the cabin's bad lighting. "This is basically a war zone out there, and I've seen enough of those in my time. Got enough entries on my police records already, too," the man added after a, this time dejected-looking, nibble on his cigar. "Holding cells got really shitty beds. Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a hurry to get your cute ass wasted tonight. At least not out there."

"No such luck," Scott gave back with a tired smile. "Told you, I got somewhere to be. I don't fault people for getting a little overexcited tonight. I'm one of them. I'm not thrilled that they could do the damn appointment only tonight, but when you get a freebie for something that usually costs a couple of thousand bucks, you don’t question."

"Hm." The man didn’t seem convinced and didn’t ask, either, but Scott hadn’t really expected that. "Getting up your hopes is never healthy, Shades. Especially tonight. Just one big damn letdown, usually. You build up these huge expectations and wake up with a hangover and disappointed to the bone the next day."

"Whatever." Scott had enough of this pessimistic bullshit. Rolling his eyes, he'd spotted a detail possibly useful in the massive grates up there. Suddenly filled with new energy, he jumped back to his feet and stretched up on his toes. But even with his considerable height, he couldn’t make out what he needed to see thanks to the disturbing quartz coating of his glasses, as the damn cabin had quite a high ceiling. "I think I can shoot the lock of this hatch." He quickly calculated the bill for a possible repair on said access grate in his head and decided, he could cover that with his next paycheck. Which still left him with another problem though. That shaft behind the exit was looking awfully narrow and winding for someone with his stature, slimmer since he was no longer encouraged to work out like a madman every night at the in-house gym but still towering over most other people. "Think you can climb through this tunnel to the hallway?"

The man looked at him as if he'd just grown a second head. "I look like Spider-Man to you?"

Scott eyed him from head to toe just to be a pain, doing his best to hide that in his opinion, the guy had actually a better physique than said famous web-crawler. Dude's ego was surely big enough already. "Hardly. Don’t worry, I'll get your job done for you. Just give me a lift so I can see better. I don’t want to hit a damn cable by accident. Would you hurry? Unlike you, I don't got all day," he snapped, agitation already taking over again when the stranger made no move to get up.

"You need therapy, you know." Sighing deeply, janitor dude finally approached him and wrapped his arms around Scott's waist which promptly sent a surge of unexpected heat through his veins, at the sensation of the steel cords of muscles playing under those thick arms and the warmth radiating off that strong body. The latter being a very welcome change to the winter coldness seeping in through the ramshackle building walls.

Scott called himself to order and sent his juvenile hormones where they belonged. "That thing's full of cobwebs and dirt. I can't see shit. Give me your phone, or mine. I need some light up here." He wriggled a little in the stranger's ridiculously easy hold on him to get to said device in his jacket pocket. A movement which promptly let the badge with his patient name and number that he was already wearing on his belt, slip from under the dark leather.

"The fuck …?" Instead of following the new instruction, the stranger suddenly let go of him so quickly that Scott dropped back to his feet with a thud, an almost disgusted look on his face as he stared at said badge with the stylized clinic's W logo on it. "You're one of the cowards volunteering for that Cure scam? That's your big plan for tonight? Betraying what we are and helping normal people wipe us all off the face of the Earth soon just because you need a couple more Ray Bans than the rest of us?"

Scott stared at the guy in new anger, both fists clenched hard by his sides this time, the pressure of his boiling emotions nurturing the power of his blasts behind his glasses to a point where a hated throb emerged behind his eyes. For seconds, he was looking in his usually not-that-limited vocabulary for any kind of fitting retort, for an insult big enough for this condescending bastard to articulate … But not a single word wanted to pass his lips, not least because it was a bad idea, getting in a possible physical fight with a feral in a confined space, especially one likely to have them both drop to their death if they made too much noise in here. Scott turned away from the stranger, deflated. So much for an interesting new acquaintance. A night for huge expectations turning into the biggest disappointments indeed. He could have tried, sure. Have the same useless debates all over that he'd left Mutant High with against the urgings, warnings, and admonishments of all his friends, his mentor, and the woman he'd once thought to love … But if these people who'd known him for years, already refused to understand, how could he expect a stranger to? Apparently, it was up to fate anyway if Scott would even get a chance to go through with this, at least tonight. He took his place on the ground by the corner again and shut his mouth.

****

"Look, I shouldn’t have said that." The stranger made it through exactly five minutes of the icy silence before speaking up again with an exasperated sigh. Apparently even someone usually so disinterested in social contacts started to feel a little cramped after a while, stuck in a place like this. "Politics have just been scary lately, you know that as well as I do. Thinking what those half-cooked drugs might do to the ones among our kind who can no longer deal with the pressure just pisses me off. I never had good experiences with normal people experimenting on the likes of us. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. You really wanna give me the silent treatment now for as long as it takes until they find us?"

"Not sure. You really wanna hear what I'm thinking right now? About you?" Scott gave back, still insulted and offended, not to mention more pissed about missing his damn appointment by the second. Unleashing these negative feelings on the next person within reach wasn’t entirely fair, especially since the guy did have something of a point, he supposed, but it wasn’t like the world had ever been fair to him. When the janitor just shrugged at him once more, tilting his head expectantly, he let out a snort and got up again, crossing his arms in challenge. "Well, by your accent, I'm guessing you grew up somewhere in bumfuck Canadian nowhere. Feral like you, shaped for battle by nature but mentally far too much out of control for regular duty? You surely signed up for the next best merc group the moment you were legal. After a couple of kills too many for the wrong side, you found out you had a conscience and deserted. You didn’t have the motivation for a real job though, so you let them pay you for keeping this ruin here together while you smoke and drink your days away. And because you fucked up so much in your life, you think you're not worth any warmth and happiness from anyone around you. So you bite people away before they do as much as give you a second glance. Oh, and also?" Scott had talked himself into a frenzy and just had to get it out, maybe just because the guy had let him down so much a minute ago, and even though the dude had turned suspiciously pale on his bench over there, entirely forgetting about his smoke. It was rude and spiteful and not like Scott at all, but fearing that the only chance at his happiness was just being blown out of this damn shaft, he was on the verge of losing all that self-control and polite distance to people he'd taught himself ever since mutating. Not like that had ever gotten him anywhere anyway. "Your New Year's allergy? I bet some high school jock with the IQ of toast let you down at midnight like 20 years ago, and now you think everyone you meet has to pay for that. Am I close?"

"Alberta," the stranger answered flatly, looking him in the eye as if he could see right through his glasses. By his hunched shoulders and that terrible emptiness suddenly in his gravelly voice, Scott could easily read that his thoughts were miles from this cabin suddenly.

Already, the bad conscience for his outburst hit like a freight train. "Huh?"

"Alberta, Canada. Can't tell you where exactly. I lost my memory five years ago. Been trying to find any clues ever since. No such luck. Moved here when I was getting tired of cage fighting to make a living. Some old mental dude in a wheelchair upstate New York found me on the road someday and helped me get the job. Dude probably still thinks I'll return the favor and help his little facility of sleeper agents out with some fight someday or something. Whatever. Never heard from him again and I'm not interested, frankly. I've had enough of war all my life from all I can remember. When you're supposedly more than a hundred years old, you've seen a few."

"A hundred …?" Scott's eyes went wide, the shock about the almost casual mention of his old home, of his former mentor from someone maybe not a stranger at all, almost immediately forgotten. Charles … Goddamnit, Scott should have known that the guy would find some way to make sure, he'd still be in some way in Scott's life, watching him, even if it was just by casually placing him in the same damn house as some old acquaintance. That was something Scott would have to think over long and hard once he'd no longer be busy with tonight's far more important plans. The next call with Westchester would definitely not be a friendly one. But for the moment, he neither found the energy to even tell the stranger about his suspicions nor to dwell on that new aggression of being constantly manipulated by his foster father. Not in the light of another, almost even more astonishing revelation from that stranger. Scott wasn’t even entirely sure why the guy was suddenly being so candid to him of all people. Or maybe he did know; maybe the two of them ending up here together did have a reason he also would have no chance to think about before tomorrow came. But that, too, was overshadowed by his sheer amazement and the shame about how much he'd really misjudged this stranger. Sure, he'd known in theory that ferals could get really old without hardly aging at all, but suddenly facing one of these people then … Facing the sheer weight of grief and history such a person carried, even when the latter was lost apparently, that ball of pure depression and frustration of a person there on the other side of the cabin … That was a whole different deal. Charles was a lying asshole, but Scott had to admit reluctantly, his mentor probably hadn’t been off about at least some of his lectures in the course of his years anyway. Including all those about restraint and a good, firm check on Scott's emotions, especially when he didn’t have all the information on a situation yet.

Before he could think of a badly needed apology, the stranger looked up again with that terrible lost expression in a pair of sunken dark eyes, a hard tug around broad lips that let the guy look older than his genes should allow. "And no. It was right after deserting that my arch-enemy killed the girl right in front of my eyes just to hurt me. That's one of the memories not even amnesia couldn’t wipe out. Fireworks had just started if you need to know. That made it easier. Drowned out the screams."

And just like that, Scott suddenly seriously considered cutting a hole in that damn floor below him and climbing out towards the nearest exit never to return. Talk about putting his damn foot in his mouth.

******

When the silence became too deafening, Scott started talking again, not least to maybe try to make it clear to the stranger why he'd just been such an ass. And also because he felt it wouldn’t have been fair, leaving him in the dark about them both having been used from afar by the same person in some way.

Janitor guy didn’t seem too surprised by his story, not even really commenting on it save for a bitter snort and a headshake, which in turn probably shouldn’t surprise Scott. Ferals came with a brilliant set of instincts usually, especially regarding people they shouldn’t trust.

That was something Scott especially on this night once more wished he would have had himself. "Xavier took me in after I'd made it on my own in foster homes and on the streets for a couple of years. At that time, I was far too grateful for that to realize, the guy just needed someone to lead the new strike team he was building. Don’t get me wrong, I'm still grateful to him, and I don't think it's a bad thing what he's doing, trying to keep the peace between our kind and normal humans. But I already got a mutation that doesn’t leave me the freedom of choice in many regards. After the first few missions and when my relationship with a teammate fell apart because work and fun don’t go together for me, apparently … I realized I'd never actually stopped to think if this was what I wanted. Guess that is what I came here for to find out. To see if there's another path in my life I want to take. And now I think I found one."

The stranger regarded him thoughtfully over the edge of his cigar that he'd somehow forgotten to light again in the last few minutes, and patted the bench next to him invitingly. "Logan. My name. Or just call me idiot, I guess," he said with a rueful grin when Scott dropped next to him. A mutually apologetic nod exchanged had the last of hard feelings fade away. "Scott, right? Well, let me tell you from experience, when it comes to decisions like this, I think is awfully vague. For how long have you had these?" He nodded at Scott's glasses with still that pensive frown.

"I was twelve. It happened shortly after my parents died and my brother vanished. That plane crash rendered the control over those damn blasts useless, for a lifetime, from all that Charles' doctors could find out." Scott rubbed his eyes under his glasses as he felt his headache grow stronger as if his mutation wanted to comment on the whole situation … or rear up in protest because it knew exactly what was coming tonight. Hopefully. "When I heard about the Cure, that was when I started questioning my role with Charles. I know there's no guarantee it even works, and there's no long-term studies yet but … Thing is, I didn’t think I would even get a chance at a shot so quickly. I just won the damn ticket when they did one of these case study lotteries. That's not a chance you waste. I'm not proud of running, Logan. I've been fighting for our race, for our cause, for years. But …" He paused, leaning his head back against the elevator wall, not sure he could make it clear to someone with enhanced senses and a healing factor erasing every pain and injury within seconds, what he had to deal with.

He actually expected Logan to try and talk him out of this again. Instead, the guy brushed the back of Scott's hand where it was tensely clenching on his jeans. He was even nice enough to ignore Scott's heart immediately beating faster in his chest again. "Show me?"

"Yeah, not happening." With a strained chuckle, Scott bravely fought his increasingly impure thoughts at the sight of those really beautiful pair of lips, those soulful eyes so close to him now. "The only device that keeps these blasts somewhat in check is in my apartment. You don't want to catch one of these by accident, believe me, healing factor or not. I've hurt too many people before when I didn’t close my eyes quickly enough; not gonna do that again."

"You can hold them back with your body though, right?" Logan reached up for a just as short touch along the straps of his glasses on Scott's temple, the cigar vanished somewhere in his jacket for good. "Come on, use your fingers. Take these apart for me?" He nodded down on the heap of decorations on the floor. "We ain't got nothing to do in here but party tricks for the moment. And you'd do me a favor, honestly."

Because such a thin blast through two fingertips with one eye admittedly was one of his easier tricks, and because Logan seemed truly interested, Scott finally gave in, shooting paper and plastic to his feet into particles before quickly slipping his glasses back into place. "What about you?" he asked with a weak grin when his new friend stared at the pitiful remains of those decorations with large eyes, back to being speechless again for a moment.

Logan silently got up, standing on the bench to stretch to the damn hatch. With a bright, menacing snikt-sound, a blade of pure metal protruded from between his knuckles, neatly cutting the lock in two.

"Just in case you still want to pull that stunt," he remarked dryly, sitting down again when Scott stared back and forth between him and the grate with his mouth ajar.

"I think I'll pass." The damn appointment for the moment almost forgotten, Scott couldn’t help but reach out to that rough feeling spot at the back of Logan's hand where only a faint trail of body fluid the same color as his glasses spoke of the already closed injury from that claw. "That's gotta hurt like a bitch."

"Not usually the first thing people wonder about if they see them," Logan stated quietly after long stunned seconds, his hand slowly turning to grab Scott's before he could pull it away. "And you? You're in pain too. Your breathing's off," he explained with a weak smile when Scott gasped.

"It's … something I'm used to," Scott answered after a moment of hesitation, staring down at their linked fingers, entirely at a loss about why he didn’t pull away. Maybe this long-missed touch of someone caring about him, beyond how useful he could be to them, just felt far too good. Especially while he tried to put into words what he'd been so determined to no longer question this morning. "I just started wondering at some point if I really had to when there was maybe another way. That constant pressure from the blasts being held back … That's one thing. But always being a danger to people and never being able to see the world for what it really is … When the invitation for my Cure shot came, for tonight, of all days …" He tilted his head back again, with a longing stare into the darkness, at the building ceiling over which the first quiet bangs of isolated rockets going off early had started to sound, loud enough even for non-enhanced ears. "It felt like fate. It's been a decade since I was last allowed to see a firework, Logan. I haven’t entirely forgotten yet how beautiful they are. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier if I did, if I no longer saw colors in my dreams and memory. I want to take this chance before I forget completely."

"Dunno, bub." Logan unexpectedly let go of him, that skeptical darkness and a now very clear hint of worry returning to his tense posture as he lit his cigar again. "As far as I'm concerned? You see a lot clearer than most people I've met in my life."

To that, Scott didn’t know what to say so he decided to stay silent again for a while.

*****

With the time window shrinking by the second, resignation set in at some point. When the noise of the fireworks outside grew louder and louder, Scott didn’t even dare check his phone for the time anymore, the depressing silence starting to become painful. "Doesn’t seem like we'll be found anytime soon. Too bad you made me ruin those decorations. Here I was just thinking we could have our own party."

"Told ya, I don’t do New Year's." Logan chuckled, the argument that wasn’t even really one fortunately over.

"All the more a reason to replace those horrible memories of yours with better dreams." Gathering all his courage, Scott reached for Logan's hand again, his heart immediately hammering in his chest when an increasingly interested, curious glance met his, the man next to him licking his lips in a gesture almost too brief to notice … if you hadn’t been waiting or it. "Come on! Ball's dropping only once a year. Not sure about the time, but people do usually kiss at midnight, right?"

"No idea. I'm not a traditional guy as you might have noticed," Logan warned him, but it came with a lot less bite this time. "Since we are in this together, though …" And without having to talk much about it, they both knew, that wasn’t only true for their little predicament in this damn cabin tonight. But those were matters early enough talked about again tomorrow. It was far more interesting suddenly how those beautiful lips looked from up close, slightly opened as they were slowly approaching …

And then the damn elevator cabin started to move again.

Scott wasn’t finished yet cursing all the damn fortune gods of this verse by the time they reached the ground floor to a crowd of impatient other tenants already waiting. Some technician in a grey uniform grinned at them proudly, for having been so fast, and there was even someone Logan knew, judging by the exhausted groan on his lips.

"The fuck are you doing here, Wade?"

"Getting you to the party I told you about of course. Since you didn’t answer your phone, I came here to see what was up. You should thank me." The guy who was obviously off to a costume ball, judging by the red and black latex suit covering both his body and face. Wrapping his arm around Logan's shoulders, he entirely ignored his friend's reluctance and warning growls, dragging him with him towards the exit. "Who's that cute ass over there? You two made good use of that hour in the cabin, huh?"

"Shut it, Wade. Get out of here. Told ya, I'm not coming." Logan pushed the overly excited weirdo out the front door and turned back to Scott, looking definitely a little regretful himself about the sudden end of their little adventure. "So. You can still make it to City Hall, I think."

"Yeah, gotta run." Only Scott didn’t feel like saying goodbye yet, not like this, not after what had almost just happened. "How about I buy us a bottle of booze on my way home? We could watch a movie or something."

"From all I heard about those drugs, you'll spend the next two weeks puking your guts out, bub. But if you're still game after that … Apartment 1C." At least no longer that aggressive about Scott's choice, Logan pulled him in for a hug, this time not even sparing his friend a glance who was already sticking his head through that door again, whistling at them. "No one can take this decision off your shoulders, Shades. Might wanna remember though that new chances don't expire at midnight on New Year's. Just don’t do something you might regret. Now get the hell out of here."

"Going." Quickly turning away before the other man could see the returning unsettled frown on his face and possibly throw him off balance for good, Scott hurried away.

****

Somehow, he'd known, the whole time. Maybe he'd even hoped for it a little. In any case, the last tears of humiliation about the disparaging comments from these damn doctor hacks immediately dried behind Scott's glasses when he left the City Hall behind and suddenly saw Logan standing right before him, softly pulling him back into his arms as if not a second had passed since they'd parted in the hallway.

"Still got your Ray Bans, huh?" It wasn’t a question and certainly not one of surprise.

"I balked when they came with the needle," Scott admitted, shuddering in the stranger's arms at the memory of these cold sterile facilities, all these people who were so eager to reduce the number of mutants on this planet as quickly and thoroughly as possible … Christ, what had he been thinking? "I told them I needed more time to think. They said, if I go now, I wouldn’t need to bother coming back. And that I was ruining my only chance at a proper, normal life."

"I hoped you blasted them in their stupid asses." Logan growled at that building as if he was about to storm it and rip all people and equipment for this special procedure parade of the Worthington Labs tonight there to pieces.

Scott decided they could both find something better to do on the last night of the year than spending time in a holding cell and buried his hands wordlessly in Logan's hair to pull him down for a kiss. It was a fantastic, mindblowing first touch full of yearning and bliss, and greed that only ended when the increasing number of fireworks and the deafening cheers from the distance let them know, the ball had dropped at Time Square. "Happy New Year, stranger."

*******************************************************************************

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@scoganbingo

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

The fact that I'm deciding which new thing I want to watch tonight by which one has the most spoilers being posted about it already, especially right after a major holiday, is...some bullshit.

And note, it's not "which one has spoilers and which one doesn't," it's "the one has fewer already posted gets to wait."

[regallibellbright]

God, I hope I manage to get people reading this fic even a HUNDREDTH as invested in this character and the family I completely invented out of whole cloth for him who have been living rent-free in my head for like two years now and steadfastly refused to make a story work until now, because I needed to get a good bit out of my head before I went to sleep, made myself cry because I cry ABSURDLY easily, and now it’s like four hours later and I need to actually get to FUCKING BED ALREADY but words keep coming, my fic is too sad, and I use a CPAP that already finds my face shape tricky and don’t want to combine that with my messy crying.

I’m just saying, it’s not fair I inflict this on myself while WRITING it. Rereading it later, sure, I’m fine with that, but writing it? What am I doing, using these characters as an outlet for emotional catharsis? Gross. Inefficient. I can’t keep writing when I need to routinely stop and wipe my eyes.

[nygleskas]

⬆️ guy who is currently cuddling w boyfriend while watching a movie :3

[teruthecreator]

i dont know what it is but i cannot be hyperfixated on a show like other people can. like if i were to rlly itemize all of my hyperfixations and do a pie chart of media genre, a good 90% of them will be video games! whether i myself played the game or if i just watched a playthrough is irrelevant bc it was still a game 

[youryanderedaddy]

can you write gentle yandere taking their darling for the first time vs mean sadistic yandere taking them for the first time?

Btw I love ur work 💖💘💗

tw: female reader, non - con, kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, sadism, degradation, slut - shaming

Gentle ~

You know the type of guy I'm talking about. Big and buff, dark - haired, cries a lot. Watches romance movies in his free time and actually calls his mother even outside of the holiday season. Wears slutty little black fitted shirts after working out and brings you smoothies after work. He smiles and blushes. The man is a massive loser with an undying passion for anything nerdy, be it dragons, board games, collecting marks. Who would really expect this poor soul to hurt even a fly?

But he does.

It doesn't happen until months after he's taken you in. Most of the time he's being the perfect gentleman (aside from literally keeping you captive) - he cooks for you, brings you roses and chocolates (even when you throw them away or tear the petals from the flowers), cleans and doesn't make you lift a finger. He reads you poetry until your ears bleed. He tells you he loves you one hundred times a day and seemingly doesn't care about your snorts or the way you roll your eyes and push him away, already so used to your living situation you can't even find it in yourself to be scared. You think he's harmless - as harmless as a lovesick puppy.

But then one night he comes home, an unusual frown on his otherwise soft face. There is a certain type of madness in his hazel eyes. They are still so very soft and adoring, he still sees you as a Goddess in need of worship... but there is also something dark and muddy. Something possessive.

Your captor kisses you on the cheek and that much is granted - he does it every day, along with shouting "Honey, I'm home" at the door. He hugs you - tight. Tighter than ever before, it feels as if the man is trying to crush you in a suffocating embrace, like he wants to swallow you whole within his arms. For the first time you realise just how muscular he is - how much stronger he is. And then he picks you up like a blushing bride and leaves a quick peck on your forehead before taking you to the bedroom and carefully laying you down.

He doesn't give you time to ask questions - as soon as he steps a foot in your shared room, he's already tearing apart his clothes, revealing his ripped form.

"See anything you like, sweetness?" the man asks you, rubbing his hands together as he towers over you, caging you between two beefy arms. You stay silent for a moment, mouth agape at the suddenness of it all - you have never seen him like this. He starts caressing your cheeks and slowly moves down, and that's when it finally settles in your mind. You need to act quickly.

"Stop." you say authoritatively, just like you have done so many times before, praying it would work like it had in the past. But not now. This time he simply shakes his head, a crazed smile playing on his lips as he lowers his head and kisses your neck softly, lovingly. It's terrifying. You're not used to this. You don't know how to react. "Baby, I can't hold it in anymore." Your captor whispers, head resting against your shoulder, voice low and desperate - almost whiny.

"I really tried." he swallows thickly. "I swear. I tried cold showers a-and thinking about bad things but..." he bites his lip, staring at you. You look so small and helpless and, God, he respects you, he really does, but he can't help the way his crotch twitches and his pants tighten as he watches you squirm and tremble, oh-so-small and panicky, defenceless little hands scratching at his arms, but failing to make him budge.

"But every time I come home all pent up and annoyed after dealing with bastards all day, all I want is to bend you over," he continues after moving a lock of your hair out of the way so he can whisper directly into your naked ear. "And fuck-”, he says as he pins your hands to the bed frame, enjoying seeing you wiggle and pant. "The shit-" he can feel your heart beat faster and faster as your whole body gets warmer. It's awfully intimate. "Out of-" he's so excited now that he grabs your hips rather roughly, and ruts against your core, whimpering as his crotch rubs all over your clothed slit. "you".

He growls, now more akin to a lion or a bear than to a human.

He tries to enter you slowly so he wouldn’t hurt you, but the moment your tight velvety walls wrap around his hard throbbing length, he’s reduced to a feral whimpering mess, shoving at you in short sloppy thrusts, completely pussy - drunk. He lasts less than five minutes before he pulls out and cums all over your stomach, watching in fascination as his seed marks you. He slams his lips against yours, swallowing your hushed protests as he murmurs “Mine” over and over again, gripping your hips closer when he feels you pulling away.

Once his brain has cleared enough to be able to think properly he helps you clean up, touching you so gently you wonder if this wild, brutish side he exhibited was all but a dream. But it’s still very much there, barely contained under the surface - and one single moment of freedom and passion is enough to open Pandora's box. 

After that night he feels a lot more comfortable with touching you, for better or worse. 

Mean ~

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust to your ‘new life’ before he basically pounces on you like a predator. To be completely honest, he’s wanted to fuck you within inches of your life since the time he first saw you - the only thing keeping him at bay for a while were the countless pretty pictures he had of you naked and writhing in your own bed in the comfort of your home that all the secret cameras he had installed managed to capture.

Before he used to treat your home footage like his own personal cam - girl show; sometimes he would wait to leave work, jerking all over your face on his screen the moment he gets home. Other times he wasn’t so patient, and he had to sneak off to the restroom any time a thought about you occurred, stroking himself to completion as he blasted his recordings of your quiet moans on his headphones.

But now you’re here in the flesh - the real thing, tied so tight you can’t move an inch, trembling all over just like a bunny caught in a trap by the hunter. He wants you completely immobilised - he’s waited ages for this moment and he wants absolutely no distractions getting in the way of him finally taking his price.

You sob pitifully, your mouth the only part of your body left uncovered, and you try to plead with him desperately. You promise him money, influence, anything he wants - whatever would be able to get you out of this hellish predicament. You even offer to give him a blowjob - which he simply sneers at, grabbing a fistfull of your hair. 

“Oh, doll, the night is still young. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” He looks possessed, ready to feast on your flesh. You shiver, curling into yourself as much as possible - but he pulls your legs on both sides of his thighs, his hands seeming grand across your rickety ankles. “You’ll get your chance to choke on this cock soon enough.” He grabs his bulge crudely, massaging it through his thick stained grey pants. “Right now all I want is to see this cute little pussy stretched on my meat and those pretty tits bouncing in the air as I slap them red.”

It really doesn’t matter if you’re a virgin or not, you’re getting brutalised either way - although his comments would be different.

If you’re a virgin, he’s making sure you get the whole of his length in one - there is something terribly amusing about the toe - curling scream you let out as his cock tears you apart, something borderline pornographic in the way your brows twist and your nostrils flare, lips shut tight as to not give him the pleasure of hearing your pain out loud. But it’s obvious, and he wants you to know that he enjoys it through and through - licking your tears and the sweat off your neck, pinching at your thighs, your breasts, your stomach; whatever makes you cry the most. 

If you’re not a virgin, he still finds a way to get his fun out of you. 

“I don’t feel you clenching on me, you little slut.” He smacks your cheek with little force behind it - it’s not meant to hurt you, but to humiliate you and drive his point across. “Did you have a fucking train ran on you? I should have known you’d be a filthy whore.” He bites at your lower lip, pulling at it until he hears you whine pitifully - leaving his mark on you. “Should’a known with these cocksucking lips of yours, and ngh-” He sinks into you, voice breaking once the tip of his dick brushes against your cervix. “And t-those slutty hips, shit, keep squeezing me just like that, n-ngh, I am going to ruin you all over again!”

He fucks you for who knows how long - when he’s finally satisfied, the sun is already up and you’re drenched in sweat and cum. There isn’t a single part of your body that doesn’t ache.

He leaves you there, snickering at the sight of your empty stare fixed on the ceiling - only reaching to untie you and cuff your ankle to the bed frame instead. You weakly raise an eyebrow in question.

“Stay here until I come back, okay?” He grins with malice, caressing your wet matted hair. “Hah, not that you can really go anywhere.”

[randomshyperson]

My Sweet Valentine - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Delayed in planning Valentine's Day, you and Wanda try to do something together. The spider routine ends up getting in the way, but that doesn't mean the date was lost.

Warnings: (+18) bottom!wanda, enchanted strap, creampie, fingering, dry humping, very fluff and domestic, established relationship, both r and w are briefly specified to be introverted. | Words: 3.206k

A/N-> I had this idea while I was rewatching Sound!Euphonium, I didn't catch the relation to it but I ended up writing this on my phone again so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes. It's always great writing Spider!Reader, I hope you enjoy it.

General Masterlist | AO3 |

-&-

To plan Valentine's Day with your girlfriend should be an easy thing. 

But for two Avengers who happen to be the most introverted antisocial people on earth - and those were Natasha's Romanoff words, not yours - the task could be really hard.

But it was you and Wanda's first Valentine's Day as a couple and you were really late on schedule.

While Natasha planned to have the most incredible and romantic trip to Greece with Maria and Tony and Pepper made reservations at some exclusive fancy Italian restaurant, you and Wanda were side to side laying on your apartment carpet. Trying to decide what you could do together by reading some flyers that were spread around the floor.

Wanda had one of the fancy restaurants in her hands when she suggested: “How about dinner?”

You gaze at the restaurant propaganda, recognizing the name and the building from your little web-swinging adventures.

“The Geller’s is nice but it will be really crowded during Valentine's. And we both hate when places are too full.” You reason, receiving an agreement sound. “Maybe we can ask for takeout?”

Wanda chuckles. “On Valentine's Day? Every place will mess up our orders, I'm sure of it. Places are normally understaffed, ordering food on holidays is like asking for them to mess up your food.”

You sigh deeply. “Yeah, you're totally right. So, maybe I can cook?”

She smiles. “We are going for food poisoning then, huh?” She teases making you chuckle with an expression of false offense. You playfully bumped your shoulder on hers but you don't move away after. The touch is warm and nice. “You cook then.”

“Yeah, but is not like we would find any free spots anywhere. We delay this way too much.” She mutters without sounding really upset. Her words were true, you both have been dancing around this date for almost three months now ever since Tony showed everyone his and Pepper's reservations. But neither of you was that anxious to be locked with another hundred couples in some loud restaurant with extra expensive and not-that-good food.

The restaurants were not the only thing discarded - Yelena and Kate's idea of a date, and band concerts were also politely declined. Mostly because neither you nor Wanda felt like facing a whole weekend of poor public hygiene and the crazy routine of musical festivals while babysitting Natasha's little sister who would definitely get really drunk with her girlfriend.

Steve was the one who suggested the most quiet and family thing, a road trip to the countryside. But since he was going with Bucky and you and Wanda didn't wish to be traumatized by their physical display of affection, their invitation was also declined.

Back on the floor of your apartment, you helped Wanda with the papers around the floor.

You were worried she would be upset about the lack of plans - even Sam with his eternal bachelor status was having a date night with some old colleague from the army. You worried that Wanda might think you're not excited to spend time with her when it is pretty much the opposite of it.

“You know, we don't really have to do anything just because everyone is doing.” You start, hands ready to catch the papers she's bringing. “We could just watch a movie.”

Wanda smiles, the papers are put in your hands but she doesn't move hers away.

“If you brought wine it would be like any other date night.”

“That's not a bad thing, right?” You retort immediately, eyes anxious towards hers. She frowns, a confused chuckle escaping her.

“No, I mean… you think that too right?”

You shrug; “I just want to spend Valentine's and any other day with you, Wands. What we are doing doesn't matter much.”

She smiles, coming closer to kiss you on the lips. But the kiss is quicker than you wished. One of her hands caresses your cheek as she speaks:

“Good to know, darling, 'cause I'll be watching you do the dishes tonight.”

You chuckle, rolling her eyes at her teasing but pouting when she escapes your attempt at a second kiss.

-&-

Valentine's Day is unfortunately a busy day for the spider.

It was true that you and Wanda didn't plan anything big but you wanted to bring her some flowers and her favorite chocolate but after fighting another dressed-up lunatic at the city hall and avoiding three different catastrophes, anything inside your backpack was definitely destroyed.

You swing back into your apartment with the mess of your gifts dripping to the floor. The wine bottle broke and soaked the chocolate and the poor flowers. Bye-bye to any college homework you forgot there.

Throwing the item at the sink, your body towards the couch was the second thing you threw. 

And against the soft pillows the day tiredness caught up at you. With the thought that you would rest your eyes for five minutes, you woke up hours later with the door locked.

Wanda's angry arrival was also an efficient clock.

“God, what is wrong with you? I've been calling you all day!” She slammed the door behind her, and the next second the day's newspaper was thrown at you. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? We have talked about this! You can't just fight some three-sized villain and vanish without a word! I thought-” But she stops herself, taking a deep breath when her voice cracks. You feel so terrible sorry. You know very well that Wanda has lost enough people for the whole ghosting thing to be too hard on her. Intentional or not. 

You get up. “Hey, I'm so sorry Wands, my phone broke and I came right here and closed my eyes for like two seconds. I'm sorry.” But Wanda shook her head, covering her eyes for a moment. She was not even that mad at you, it was clearly an accident that you forgot to call. But she has been so nervous all day worried about you that she needed a minute. Suddenly, she catches a glimpse of the wine-soaked flowers at the kitchen counter and frowns. “What is that?”

The slight indignation about the mess of an apartment you both worked hard to keep clean vanished the second she realized those were gifts.

You fixed your hair awkwardly. “Hm, I was trying to make a romantic gesture. But I forgot I'm always on some freak radar.”

Wanda's hands reached for the flowers and as gentle as her touch, her magic flowed from her fingers to take all the wine away. In no time, the petals were as beautiful and healthy as when you brought it.

“This is really not fair, darling.” She starts, moving to check the rest of the gifts. “You made it to the front page and I have every right to be mad you didn't call through the suit to let me know you're alive.” You wanted to mutter that you're still getting used to the new suit and its high-tech functions, but Wanda is turning at you again with crossed arms.

“It’s not fair, how hard you're making to stay mad at you.”

You gave her a lopsided smile. “So, you like the chocolate that much, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, trying to contain her smile. “Why don't you go shower while I make dinner? There's grease from Rino's suit all over your face.”

You click with your tongue, swinging a little. “Let me guess, you not joining me at the shower is my punishment for not calling through the suit?”

She finally let that smile escape. “Clever girl.”

You chuckle to yourself before nodding and heading to the bathroom.

-&-

Forgotten dinner plates at the living room table when Wanda reached the chocolate box. She shared them with you during the sitcom marathon you too were doing but after finding yourself hypnotized by her laugh for the fourth time in a row, you gave up eating at all.

The last chocolate was put away when she caught you staring.

“What?” 

“What what?” You retort with a chuckle, having some pride over the soft blush of her cheeks.

“You were staring.” She says then, drifting her gaze from the TV to you with some resistance. You know her enough that it's because Wanda is terrible at hiding her own shyness under your loving glance. She always was. 

“Can you blame me?” Your teasing just makes her blush more. You just decide to make it worse. “You're simply too charming not to be looked at. So gorgeous, so pretty. I feel so lucky.”

“Stop it.” She giggles with rosy cheeks at your praise. But despite her words, she opens her arms as an invitation for you to come closer. You practically jump from your spot - a few centimeters from her since your last trip to the kitchen to grab sodas - and greet the warmth of her embrace.

Wanda hugs your body while you melt into her, the soft caress on your spine being more than enough to bring back your interrupted slumber that evening. But somehow you manage to stay wide awake, perhaps because the way you press your face into her boobs makes her giggle and playfully tug at your hair, which happens to have a completely different effect on you. 

Her body tenses up a little when your lips start sucking at her collarbone, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. You suddenly recall that it has been some time, a week maybe two since you had enough free time to be this close. 

Your lovely girlfriend probably missed you as much as you missed her.

The soft sucking turns into something more determined, then into a bite and a licking that turns Wanda into a panting mess. She grows restless under you, fingers tugging at your hair with some guidance towards your movements in her neck until finally, your mouth meets her again.

Hot open-mouthed kisses before softer ones. You kiss and she kisses you back until all of your clothes are disheveled around your bodies and she looks up at you with pleading eyes and slightly open lips. Begging for more.

“Wanna take this to the bedroom?” You suggest inches from her lips but she shakes her head, fingers dancing under your shirt.

“You can have me right here.” She whispers back, stealing all your coherent thoughts for a second. 

Your hands are shaking a bit with eagerness when you pull at your clothes, with Wanda's help they are off in no time. Her chest heaves when you take her top off and Wanda stares back while you can't seem to be able to look away from her tits.

“You good there?” She teases you breathlessly when your lack of action lingers. You chuckle, hands at her sides. 

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” You retort managing an affectionate roll of eyes from her.

“You're such a dork.” She giggles but purposely lifts her chest in your direction, making you swallow hard. When you don't take the bait immediately, she sighs. “I would love for you to more than stare, detka.”

You groan, hovering over her. “Well, your wish is my command, madam” You reply, leaning down to capture her lips. Teasing Wanda with soft bites on her lower lip every time you break the kiss before starting another turns her into a needy mess under you. She gets impatient very quickly and brings her hands to your cheeks, pulling you down with determination. Her tongue takes the lead in a heated kiss that takes all the air out of your lungs. 

Panting against her mouth while trying to match the intensity of her demand, you let your hands grope around her body towards her chest, effectively taking the lead again when you start playing with her hardened nipples and Wanda loses her ability to kiss you back.

When she whimpers into your mouth, her hips restless while your fingers pinch her cute tits, you chuckle. “Ah, is there something you want, baby?”

She struggles to speak firmly. "I need you to stop teasing and fuck me." You grunt at her answer. You would have obeyed immediately if you hadn't been able to feel Wanda shaking. She gasps as you adjust, your knee finding her middle and giving her something to grind against as you resume your actions on her breasts. She throws her head back, biting her lip hard as her hips move almost of their own accord.

It's a hot mess, her first orgasm of the night. You didn't even have to take off all her clothes. When Wanda shivers terribly, and you feel the wetness against your knee, you bite down at her tit and that makes her let out a muffled scream.

Wanda is panting and her face is very flushed when you look at her again, her expression satisfied after an intense orgasm.

You hum happily, moving your hands down as you tilt your face to kiss her on the lips. She gasps into your mouth when she feels your fingers draw a path through her ruined panties.

"You made such a mess, sweetheart." You whisper between one kiss and another, two digits pushing gently without even removing her underwear. Wanda arches toward you, squeezing your shoulders for something to hold on to. Her green eyes are completely dilated now and you love how they display a vulnerable begging. Pulling your fingers out again, you let your thumb draw circles on her covered clit and enjoy the way her thighs tremble around you. "Tell me what you want, Wanda."

She has a little difficulty responding while feeling you teasing her, but despite noticing her heartbeat against your fingertips, you don't interrupt your movements. If anything, they become even more determined. Wanda pants, hips trying to match the rhythm of your fingers.

"C-can we use the strap tonight?" She manages out of breath. "I like feeling you come inside me."

Your witch girlfriend's favorite toy is somewhere in the room, and given the busy schedule of two superheroes, it wasn't used as often as you would like. Wanda has barely suggested, and you're already nodding, panting aroused just imagining yourself stretching Wanda again.

But suddenly your fingers push the fabric out of the way, and you sink inside her without warning, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Give me one more first." You demand, watching as Wanda nods in near desperation, brow furrowed at her rapidly building orgasm. Your rhythm is brutal, and she squeezes and squeezes until you can barely push your fingers inside her. You bring your free hand to one of her thighs, forcing her open as you adjust to improve your reach. Wanda sees stars. She lets go of your shoulders to grab the cushions and ends up destroying half of them with magical expelling when she finally falls over the edge.

An impressed chuckle escapes you at the scene. You're usually the one responsible for destroying things with your spider strength - It's always nice to see Wanda lose some of the control she's fought so hard to have.

Kissing her softly, you feel her smile in some exhaustion. She needs a few seconds, so you pull out your fingers and suck them clean while green eyes watch you from below. Wanda wants to kiss you again, but you adjust to carry her on your lap, and after two orgasms in a row, she won't contradict you.

She feels the soft blankets against her back a moment later and relaxes fully into the bed as you move around the room working to find and put on the strap. It doesn't take more than two minutes, yet Wanda sighs impatiently before letting her hands roam her own body, pinching her breasts and teasing downwards. She bites her lip at the soaked state she finds herself in, tentatively collecting some of that moisture before hearing a husky laugh that makes her look up.

"You don't have to play alone, I'm right here." You let her know softly, but Wanda swallows at the sight of your naked figure and the enchanted hardness between your legs. Of all the things she learned to do, that honestly has to be her best spell. One of your hands grabs the silicone, instinctively or not, imitating the masturbation gesture that Wanda is making and she shudders to the tips of her toes, her body on fire. Her hand moves out of her panties immediately, raising it into the air in a beckoning gesture. You don't need to be told twice.

It's a breathless kiss when you reach her face again, equally eager to feel each other, there's a little war of pushing and pulling until Wanda feels completely pressed into the bed, the strap rubbing against her entrance.

You pull away when she whimpers - It's just to pull down her panties, and Wanda kicks the item away as you climb back up. Your mouth finds hers again so that when you align the strap and sink into her, you can swallow her moans.

The stretch is slow and careful, very different from the breathless way you were making out a few minutes ago. Wanda lets her nails dig into your lower back as you fight the urge to be rougher.

She gets used to the size very quickly, the creaminess of her previous orgasms making an obscene sound that makes her ears redden. You break the kiss to ask if she's ready and the only response you get is a determined throw of her hips up that registers her impatience.

In all quickies, you're always rough. Desperate to feel her, because you miss Wanda as much as she misses you, and in the rush, there's no time to prolong moments like this. But it's the first time in many months that you're relaxed, and you can thrust slowly and sensually inside Wanda, letting her feel every movement of your cock inside her warm walls as you kiss her and whisper praises in her ear.

Heat is spread under your skin, and sweat accumulates with the slow stimulation. You feel closer each time you sink inside her, and when Wanda starts whimpering in your ear, it feels like an impossible task to hold it.

"You're close?" You pant, hips starting to buckle. "I don't think… I can hold it anymore... Wands-" You choke, letting your face fall against her collarbone. The knot in your abdomen explodes without warning, and you moan deeply as you spill yourself inside Wanda, the enchanted strap vibrating inside her. It turns out that feeling you come was the push she needed, and Wanda sobs as she feels the blinding pleasure hit her, following you into climax a second later.

For a moment, all that can be heard in that room are your breathless sighs until your hoarse and satisfied chuckles emerge.

You remain inside her when you adjust so that you rest your elbows on the mattress and see her face.

"Hey, little witch."

She pushes back her sweaty hair with one hand, the other moving to rest on your neck. "Hey, spider."

Your nose brushes against hers. "I think we nailed Valentine's Day."

She giggles before pulling you for a kiss.

[cllightning81]

Red Bull? Really?

Summary : You're dating the three time world champion that's in a championship battle with your twin brother. However, you haven't told him about the relationship

Pairing/s: Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader

Word Count :

Masterlist Max Verstappen Masterlist Want to be included in my tag list? Click HERE

You and Lando always had a good relationship. You didn’t have any twin telepathy, but that didn’t mean that neither of you couldn’t tell what was going on with the other. That was why Lando now knew that you were hiding something from him just by your body language. 

You were in a serious relationship with his on track rival where the rivalry was just heating up second by second. How could you come clean about that? It was bound to break your relationship with Lando and Lando’s relationship with Max. 

While all the commentators assumed the races would be what broke their relationship off track, it was about to be you. You had spoken to Max before the summer holidays and decided that before you left to go on holiday with him, you’d confess to Lando. 

Your original idea was just to text Lando from another room in his house while he was streaming so that his reaction couldn’t be too extreme but Max told you not to do that and that he was your brother. He wasn’t going to be too extreme. 

How wrong Max was about to be. Another debate you’d win. 

Lando had just finished streaming and was now coming downstairs to get some food that you’d cooked – in hopes to butter him up – you smiled over at him as you answered a text from Max F about a project you had coming up together. 

“So” Lando said, sitting down on the couch opposite you. You could feel your heart rate starting to rise knowing that you actually had to tell him now. Having previously told him, you needed to talk. 

“You can’t lash out” You started, and he raised his eyes. You really wish you had done it your way and just locked yourself in the bathroom so he couldn’t get near you. 

“That’s not a good start Y/N” You bit your lip, looking over at him briefly 

“So I’m dating someone” You whispered as Lando sat forward a little with a smirk crossing his face 

“Do I know them?” He asked, and you nodded slightly as he raised his eyebrows, getting a little more suspicious now. 

“Look, it was never my intention to hurt you. When we first started seeing each other, it was before anything ever happened. You’ll always be my brother before anything else. Please don’t do anything harsh” You rambled, stopping due to the knock on the door. You quickly took it as your chance to leave the conversation, hoping that Lando and yourself could forget about it. 

Except when you answered the door, your problem was, stood at the other side of the door. You let out a long breath, letting him into the house. 

“Max! I was just about to find out who Y/N is dating. You can join me” Lando hummed as you closed the door, taking a deep breath. You could see the smirk crossing Max’s face 

“Erm yeah Lan I think I’ll finish this conversation when we’re alone” You wandered off to your bedroom despite Lando’s complaints. 

You hadn’t brought up the conversation again to Lando and had quickly avoided any conversation he brought up. 

That was until you were, stood in your own house, Max was, sat on your couch scrolling  through the TV, trying to find something for you both to watch. 

“Kindje” (Baby) Max called as you poked your head through from the kitchen with a smile 

“Yeah?” You asked, walking over to him standing between his legs. 

“Movie or TV show?” He asked, looking up at you as his arms wrapped around your waist

“Let’s go TV show. Movies are long and boring” You answered, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, and he nodded, pressing a kiss back to your lips. Pulling you on top of his body so that you were straddling his lap. Your head resting in the crook of his neck breathing in his scent as one of his hands rubbed circles on your back 

“Still avoiding the conversation with Lando?” He asked, and you nodded 

“You and him keep getting your elbows out on track. I think that would make it worse” You sighed. It would make it worse. Lando and Max were violent on track enough as it was. You couldn’t imagine Lando’s violence if he found out about you and Max. 

“How about we abandon the TV show, go to bed, and just cuddle?” He suggested, and you nodded. 

“That sounds like a plan,” you hummed. Max stood up within one move, one of his hands hooked under you to carry you to the bedroom. Normally, you stayed at Max’s house however, Max decided to come over to your house tonight to surprise you. 

Max settled you on the bed before getting settled in next to you. Your body curling into his as he wrapped his arms around you. The silence was nice. Max’s hand under his shirt that you were now wearing drawing, comforting shapes on your back. 

You were both getting comfortable and about to fall asleep when there was a loud bang followed by someone shouting your name however, it didn’t compute who it was. 

“Y/N. Where are you?” Lando shouted, and that’s when it hit. Lando. You and Max both quickly jumped up as you glanced at Max, shutting the bedroom door as you walked to the living room to avoid Lando walking into the bedroom. 

“Lando it’s late” You complained, and he just shrugged. 

“And? I’ve got exciting news” He shrugged as your rolled your eyes. Lando’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at you from his spot on the couch. 

“What? Is that a red bull shirt?” He asked loudly as you glanced down at the top you were wearing. Shit. Fuck Max for not owning any other shirts. 

“I erm. I borrowed it from Checo and just never gave it back when I spilt coffee down myself that one time” You lied. It was a really obvious lie. The massive 33 on the top gave that away. Lando started to take a couple steps away from you, falling over the couch as he did. You couldn’t help but laugh a little after all he was your brother. Lando glared at you 

“Look Lando. I’ve been trying to tell you. I just didn’t know how. Please don’t be mad” You whispered 

“How long?” He asked quietly 

“About five months” You whispered, looking down as he continued walking towards the door, not saying anything loudly, just shaking his head and muttering to himself. “Lando please” you looked over, and he quickly opened the door and left slamming the door behind himself. 

You sat on the couch, dropping your head into your hands as a pair of hands wrapped around your body. The tears slowly falling down your face as Max’s hand rubbed your arm softly, pulling your body into his 

“It’s okay kindje” He whispered, holding you close despite you trying to push him away “Hey don’t fight me. I’m not going anywhere no matter how much you fight me” You were too distressed to understand what Max was saying. 

You’d hurt your brother. That’s the worst feeling that you’d ever felt in your life. What hurt more is the fact he didn’t even say a word to you. You never expected him to be happy about it, but you expected him to maybe say something to you. 

You didn’t want Max’s comfort. You felt like you didn’t deserve Max’s comfort, not after the harm you just caused your brother. You deserved to feel the harm as well. Siblings never mind twins were meant to harm each other. 

A couple weeks later, at the next Grand Prix, Lando still wasn’t talking to you. You’d phoned him a couple times a day, texted him multiple times a day, and even attempted to show up at his house. Max stepped in after a week also trying to speak to Lando. You’d even went through your family to try and speak to Lando, but he wasn’t having it. 

Now Max had convinced you to come to the Grand Prix just so that you wouldn’t be in the house moping as he had said. And well, in all honesty, his cats were little devils, and they could manage a week or two with a cat sitter.

Max’s hand rested on the small of your back as he spoke to the driver thanking them for driving you to the hotel. As you were about to walk in Max spotted a guy standing just off the side to all the team members and other people turning to you with a sly smile before his hand dropped and he walked over to the guy. Who clearly backed out of just asking Max to sign something, but you liked how even though he was prepared, he still respected the privacy. 

Max soon walked back over his hand, going back to resting on the small of your back as you smiled up at him 

“Ready kindje?” He asked, and you nodded with a smile 

“Think so” You hummed, walking into the hotel with him and up to the room he had been assigned. You were hoping that Lando was going to be here, but deep down, you knew that they had their own hotel sponsor and would probably be staying there, but one could wish. 

Max had also been invited to an event with sponsors, and after a lot of convincing, you decided to go with him. It was better than being stuck in a hotel room alone and there was free food which did work out as a bonus because those savings don’t last long when you refuse to let your boyfriend pay for your things wanting to be independent. 

Now, getting ready in the hotel room for the event, deciding on just a simple dress that matched Max’s suit. Your hair, in the simplest style you could do and make up just simple as well. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to put effort in and more that you just didn’t have any effort. 

Trying to get Lando to talk to you had taken up most of your energy and effort. There was nothing else for you to give, and you needed a break to reset that. Max walked up behind you in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist with a smile 

“You look beautiful” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your neck. You turned around in his arms, wrapping your own arms around his neck 

“And you look very handsome” You smiled, looking up at him. 

“Are you almost ready to go? The car is downstairs waiting” He smiled, and you nodded 

“I just need some help putting this necklace on, then I’m all finished” You smiled, holding up the necklace that you were planning on wearing. Lando had bought you it when you both turned 21. It was a matching one with one of his bracelets. 

Max carefully took the necklace out of your hands, and you lifted your hair up. Gently resting the necklace upon your chest before tying the clasp at the back of your neck. You smiled at Max through the mirror, and he couldn’t help but smile back. 

You were still in pain, but you couldn’t deny that Max was making that pain go away day by day. 

A short drive later, you and Max were not at the large ballroom for the event. Filled with sponsors for all ten teams, drivers from all ten teams, along with team principles and other important members of the teams. 

You weren’t even looking for Lando knowing that he’d just ignore you. Instead, you found yourself talking to his teammate and his girlfriend. You and Lily had always gotten along from the second Oscar joined the team, having many things in common. 

“How was your summer break?” You asked Oscar, knowing his plan was to go back to England however you hadn’t seen him since 

“It was nice. Typical British weather, but you know. Couldn’t have asked for a better time” He smiled, turning to look at Lily, who could only smile at her boyfriend “How was yours?” He asked, and you took a deep breath 

“It could have been a lot better” You replied 

You had thought Max was away talking to Cristian and Checo until there was a large hand settling on the small of your back. When you turned your head, Max was smiling down at you 

“You couldn’t have saved me?” He asked, and you shook your head slightly 

“No, unfortunately, I couldn’t have. I thought you were with Checo and Horner” You shrugged, and he shook his head. 

“No. I got dragged into a conversation with the Pirelli guy and some other sponsor” He replied, and you giggled. Leaning back into his warm touch. Max finally looked up to see who you were talking with “Oh hey Oscar” He smiled, and Oscar only nodded his mouth slightly ajar. Lily had a sly smirk on her face that only you picked up on. 

“Are we still on for padel?” Oscar finally asked, allowing the boys to get into their own conversation so Lily could drag you away to the bar. 

“Oh my god! What’s that?” She exclaimed, and you bit your lip 

“The reason Lando’s being such an ass to me” You replied before ordering a drink for both you and Max

“Ah so that’s what his mood is all about” Lily nodded, understandingly as you nodded turning to look at her. She still had that smirk on her face “So” She dragged out as you raised your eyebrows at her 

“So what?” You asked

“So what’s he actually like behind closed doors?” She asked as you leaned your back against the bar with a small smile 

“Lils he’s perfect. Like honestly so perfect” You sighed, looking over to him. It didn’t help that he currently looked very good. Although he always did, that suit was just doing something for him. 

“Wanna share more?” She asked, and you hummed tapping your nose 

“Nope that’s all the information I shall share” You smiled, picking up your drinks before walking back over to Max and Oscar. You spotted Lando talking with a sponsor as you handed Max his gin and tonic. His arm wrapped around you as you leaned into him with a slight smile. 

“Enjoying yourself?” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you 

“Better than your cats” You shrugged, and he faked offence, holding his chest as you giggled 

“They’re menices!” You exclaimed, and he shrugged a little 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true” He smiled, leading you back to the table you were due to be sat at. Pulling out your chair allows you to sit down before sitting down. You turned your head to look at Max as you placed your drink on the table 

“Is he still ignoring you?” He asked, and you nodded slightly, looking over to where Lando was now sitting “Shit. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that” He sighed, resting his hand over yours as you shrugged a little 

“It’s fine. I just wish he’d get over it even just to say hello. He’s still my brother” You sighed, looking up to thank the waitress as she brought over the food for the table you were sitting at. 

Back at the hotel room the alcohol in your system had made you forget about the whole situation with Lando and Max had taken your phone so that you wouldn’t answer any of Lando’s texts now that the alcohol had made him realise what was going on. 

Max had helped you get ready for bed before getting in next to you. Your head rested on his chest as he wrapped one arm around you, the other resting on your waist as he drew shapes on it. 

“It doesn’t matter what Lando thinks as long as you're happy. Please never forget that Schat (darling)” He explained. You nodded along with his words 

“I’d be happier if Lando had anything nice to say” You looked up at him from his chest as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your own

“He’s been texting you but I think you should look at them when you’re a little more sober as much as I know you’d sleep better reading them but I’d rather you have a clear mind reading them” He explained as you looked up at him pulling away from his lips 

“Have you read them?” You asked, and he nodded 

“I did. I figured reading them before you would help me comfort you if needed” He explained 

“You don’t need to explain love. I just wanted to know” You replied, pressing your lips against his. Moving so that you were laying between his legs, your head still on his chest as both his arms wrapped around you, sliding under your shirt, allowing him to draw shapes on your bare back. 

No matter what, Lando ended up saying you were more than happy being wrapped in Max’s arms. Maybe it’s time for Lando to feel what you had felt. 

Tag List

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[roturo]

↷ ⋯ ♡ᵎ I FOUND MY BEST FRIEND LITTLE SISTER FINISHING IN HIS BATHROOM WHILE MOANING MY NAME. So... I fucked her.

tags: smut, unprotected sex, dumbification, breeding, overstimulation, a lot of cum, age-gap, gojo is SO obsessed with you, tummy bulge, sadism, breeding, dacryphilia, cunnilingus, reader gets caught masturbating, objectification if you squint, possesive gojo...

A/N: wasn't my last writing of the year lol, wrote this while watching sinjin drowing so npr, happy holidays!!

You’ve known Gojo Satoru almost for your entire life. It was one day your brother Suguru introduced the both of you just so he could enter the house and have dinner to continue playing with Satoru.

Ever since Gojo has been a daily presence in your house. He was known as “Y/N’s big brother hot best friend” well, mostly to the ones who liked Gojo, because that didn’t stop the other girls from crushing into your brother. 

You told your friends you didn’t like Gojo in that way, since he was off limits for you- Not only because he was your brother's best friend but because it also ruined your hopes thanks to the age difference you had between. 

Being a freshman in college wasn’t easy. Not only you had the weird seniors going for the new girls, but being known as the Geto’s Suguru’s hot little sister didn’t feel like a compliment either. At least Gojo treated you as your own person, not like Geto’s other friends.

Geto invited you over at his dorm, having some of his close friends present, which included Gojo. It turned into an usual occurrence ever since you entered college, your brother making it easier for you to adapt into this new environment. 

All of you decided to take it easy tonight and just watch a movie. Nothing wrong with it, right? Well, there's nothing wrong. While watching, Gojo would try to make small talk with you, most likely because he’s just clingy and Geto is hanging with his girlfriend on the other sofa. Nothing wrong with what’s happening. During scary moments he would lean and hug you. Keeping his right hand on your left thigh, playing with the strings of your tiny small pajama shorts. 

That comment is his, obviously. Keeping the blanket covering both of your bodies and his totally not wrong act. And you’re pretty sure if he just moved his hand a little higher he would feel your wetness coating your shorts.

Gojo was trying to gain your attention. It’s pretty obvious he’s been crushing you for years now, and he’s pretty sure Suguru has commented about it. Taking it as a go to continue flirting with you and adorning your pretty face with reddish colors.

But ever since he entered college, he kinda forgot about his crush and got his head (and dick) into other girls. The first time he saw you again, he couldn’t believe it. You looked so beautiful and.. different in a good way. It’s like his caged feelings escaped and flew all across the room.

And he’s sure that happened to you too, because your pretty face didn’t hide those loving reddish colors he adored.

Coming back to the present, it was kinda weird everytime he hugged you or leaned into you. You seemed uncomfortable… Your thighs caging his hand, making his blood run straight into his cock. But he didn’t think anything about it, and assumed it was normal. 

While he was leaning into you, it became difficult and you decided to go to the bathroom to at least fix the problem going on between your legs and left. After a while, Gojo noticed that you were taking a long time, and he really needed to use the bathroom too to also fix his problem between his legs. He got up, commenting about going to the bathroom too. His friends clearly are not caring about it– too busy in their make out session.

He got out and decided to wait for you to get out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the bathroom door for a while until he realized the door was unlocked so he assumed that you already finished and just went somewhere else. 

He opened the door and then, he saw you.

Never in his entire life did he expect to see such a pretty sight. Your pretty fucking face could make him cum alone. Your mouth making an ‘o’ form with your eyebrows scrunched up, just whimpering his name. Legs opened up trying to find balance sitting down in the toilet.

And you might have an exhibitionism kink or maybe you were just at your limit. Because once you realized Gojo was standing there watching you, it brought you to climax. Taking you an embarrassing amount of time to recover from it.

He couldn’t believe his eyes and shut the door in front of you face and went back to the living room with a raging erection, and never mentioned the incident with you from the remaining time.

As soon as he left, you went up running towards him, begging to not tell anyone about it. And Gojo Satoru, being the asshole he is, saw this as an opportunity.

“Okay.”

“Okay?! Oh my god Gojo, thank you so much- I swear I can explain it was-”

“But,”

Fuck. There has to be a ‘but’

“You have to go out with me and do it on my face.”

Silence…

“I- I’ve never done it before…”

Oh fuck. You’re going to be the cause of the death of Gojo Satoru.

He wasted no time taking you to his dorm, stealing small pecks from you which helped you with the anxiety in your tummy turn into desire for him. Feeling confident enough, once the both of you entered his dorm he closed the door and you attacked his lips with no warning. Earning a groan from him, your hole clenching at the feeling of his clear erection making its presence between the both of you.

He picked you up, a moan leaving his lips once he realized the big difference of size between your bodies, thinking how you would be capable of taking his cock. He had to prepare you enough to fit him.

Your back arched from the bed as Satoru's tongue laps up the slick of your soaking hole, his lips around your clit, sucking like his life depended on it. It's been so long since he felt like this for somebody, the feeling that he just wants to bend you over anything and just... shove his cock in your tight little pussy.

It's like, you're created for the sole purpose of pleasuring him. You just have to be, that's what he thinks as he plays with your body. Fat tears fall out of your pretty doe eyes, your hands finding their way onto his scalp and tugging at his hair.

Why can't you just take it? Look at you now, whimpering and crying, but on the inside you know you love it, being a little whore for your brother’s best friend– you sob as he continues his assault on your poor pussy.

Why do you keep screaming at him to stop? You were just screaming his name some hours again. Is it the overstimulation? But you weren’t prepared enough for his cock!

Gojo knows you better than anyone, he knows you even better than your older brother. Why do you think he’s the one taking care of you this whole time in college? Who do you think has been scaring off the guys waiting in line to have a taste of this pussy? It’s so weird you don’t know about it because everyone thinks you’re off limits right now.  Is it because you’re really that naive? Maybe he loved that of you, how you’re so clueless of how crazy you make him. Being known as “Gojo’s Satoru’s hot next and official last real girl” instead of “Geto’s hot little sister”

 Like- That’s why he's giving your sweet little cunt a lot of attention right now.

“Ssatoru! Please, stop! baby… ‘s too much..”  All your whines fall into deaf ears as he continues without a care. Your pussy felt so stimulated as he sucked on your hole, his tongue licking and his throat groaning at the mere taste of your slick.You can barely lift your hands in exhaustion.

For hours, he didn't stop, continuously dragging orgasms out of you without fail.

“Aww, are you tired? But I finally have the girl of my dreams" You nodded, your tummy full of butterflies, making a mental note to talk about your feelings with Satoru tomorrow- your eyes droopy from all the cumming you've been doing for the past hours.

"But, princess, I'm not done yet~ I have to show you how much I desired you this whole time, how much I have waited for you to finally give and and realize." Gojo purred as unclasped the button of his pants, taking off his own clothing. “ But I guess you were just so dumb to get it all those years ago, at least you kept this cute cunt for me. We still have much time left. Fill you up and break you apart baby” You were faced by his raging cock, hard and full- he sits back down between your legs, lifting them up to his shoulders again, he then rests his hand against your clit. And after that, he slapped your pussy so hard that it made you jump and cry of his name. Never in your life did you expect your dream to become true and have your first time with him. Nor Gojo being a sadist and a have an obsession with your pretty little cunt compared to him

"I'm gonna pump your pussy with all the cum I have, girlie. You made a promise after all."

It's like Gojo doesn’t have a stamina limit in his body- able to go round after round in position after position - but at this point it’s been god knows how many times. He’s addicted to the way you feel around him, the sounds you make when he fucks into you a certain way, or just the look of your fucked-out, dazed face that has him needing more of you. 

“hah- made a big mess down there, huh?” Gojo sneers brashly, heavy hips rocking into you faster at just the lewd sight of his cum from previous rounds smothering your skin. the aching twitch in his cock won’t fade, pleasure burgeoning with every press of his cock into the hilt of your pussy. “I think there’s room for some more, yeah? just one more…”

Your little play doll for him to change, shape, and form. A clear bump showing and leaving your tummy, making Gojo’s eyes go crazier and more full of desire than before. He programs you to do things he wants, and you just nod your head at his words though you don't understand them, just giving him a smile on your lips- your delicate fingers already spreading your pussylips for him, ready to take his cock inside of you. Biting your lip, rolling your eyes as he plunges into you. 

You couldn’t count how many times Gojo’s said ‘just one more round’, but from the fatigue glimmering in his eyes and the raggedness lacing his breath - you can tell this is the last one. So naturally, he’ll make sure it’s the best one of the night. 

“g’na fill you up like you deserve, yeah? lemme fuck this pussy full,” Gojo grunts pantingly between a grin, fingers digging into your waist taut as the heavy smacks of his hips against yours get sloppy and quick. it’s with rasped groans and his hips fully bottomed out that he finally cums for the last time, ropes of white seeping out around his shaft and spilling onto the sheets. he can’t help but bargain and promise to clean the bed if you let him do it all over again tomorrow.

[regallibellbright]

*Collapses*

I’m not sure I’m totally happy with this conclusion, so I’ll be waiting until morning to go over it and post, but FINALLY I got A conclusion.

I’d like the record to show that THIS was supposed to be the easy fluff that would take very little effort, and it’s taken much longer to write than the core of the one about human experimentation. This has been a PATTERN.

[aliidarling]

hey alii it’s your fav riooo!! :3 anyways no more silliness.. can you write where your getting stalked by Michael and he breaks in and fucks the brains out of u, oh and has a size kink/bondage? thank you i love u and your fics!!! 🩷

enjoy the silence

MICHEAL MYERS x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary: myers decides to break in while you’re babysitting your friends younger brother

warnings: smut, p in v, size kink, bondage, knife play, sadism/masochism, blood

reminder reader doesn’t know the myers iconic mask because this takes place the night of his return in the og movie :)

nsfww content below !!

this years halloween wasn’t like last years, the year before and all the halloweens you’ve lived through. normally it was cheery, bright, with lots of candy and spooky costumes jumpscaring you at every corner. you’d always look forward for october 31st, the scariest day of the year.

your favorite day of the year. you were a horror fanatic, always binge watching horror movies and buying merchandise. friday the 13th was one of your favorite franchises, the slasher and gruesome scenes catching your eye from a young age. ever since then you’d always get excited at the mere mention of horror aspects.

you remembered years ago when the myers incident happened— when the perfect family down the block broke apart and crumbled into mere names you’d see on the newspaper. you were friends with the daughter, having a few classes with the upperclassmen which you two shared.

she was so sweet. always giving you pencils, helping you braid your hair, sometimes walking you home. she was too young to leave the earth. the reminders of that terrifying night rung in your head every halloween, slowly ruining the once colorful holiday for you.

now even fifteen years later, flashes of red and blue tainted the back of your mind as you sat on the couch of your best friends house. you had been ‘hired’ by your best friend to babysit his little brother. you didn’t mind— her brother, kilo, was a sweet boy. he was barely passing second grade, but you weren’t one to judge.

“you finish your homework, bud?” you ask the little boy who sat across from you. he looks up from his papers, crayons at his side with his papers covered in scribbles and his bad handwriting.

“almost!” he smiles, returning back to his homework and doodling. you hum and glance back at the movie playing in front of the two of you, the street lights illuminating the living room subtly through the blinds. you could hear the kids from the streets chatting, the giggling and the sounds of halloween night.

you hear a thud from the kitchen, making you frown. you pat the kids back and tell him to stay out, standing up and walking to the hallway. you enter the kitchen and look around, your eyes catching glimpse of a fallen plate on the ground. you shudder. your friend and her parents weren’t gonna be too happy with you about that.

“hey, kilo?” you call out, grabbing the broom and sweeping it up into a bag.

“yeah?” he calls back.

“i’ll let you keep your ipad in bed if you take the blame for me about this.” you hold up the bag of shredded glass sheepishly, trying to win over the little boy with the bats of your lashes. he hums in thought, tapping his chin before nodding eagerly.

you grin and give kilo a hair ruffle before ushering him up the stairs. he takes two stairs at a time before skipping into his room, the dark blue walls painted and his bed having star wars bedding. it was cute, you could tell his parents loved him.

“night night, kiddo. you need anything i’ll be downstairs, alright? i’m gonna be sleeping in your sisters room tonight.” you tell him gently, keeping up on your promise and handing him his ipad. he giggles and nods, quickly opening it up and ignoring every other word that drops from your mouth. you sigh and walk off, leaving the door open with a small crack. damn ipad kids.

the next hour is calm. you’re downstairs, handing out candy while catching up with your shows in her television. you’re happy she has cable. you’re quite comfortable in her house, you’ve been over so many times a part of you considers it your second home.

the sound of another thud grabs your attention. at first you think maybe kilo was being kilo and caused some ruckus, but you quickly realize it came from downstairs. you get up from your couch and walk towards the kitchen once again, blinking dumbly at the sight of the pantry door wide open. you swore you closed it earlier.

“this is creepy.” you grumble to yourself, stepping forward to slowly close it. once the click echoes, you stand there for another moment, a part of you expecting a loud jumpscare. the silence is anticlimactic and you sigh tiredly, dragging yourself back to the couch.

slumping back against the cushion, you wrap yourself in the throw blanket they have and hum, focusing your eyes on the television in front of you again. the streets have quieted down, leaving only a few determined trick or treaters that you’ve started to ignore when they ring. you’re too lazy to get up.

another few long minutes pass before you hear footsteps down the hall. you stiffen immediately and sit up, peeking over the top of the couch down the hall. no way kilo made those footsteps— they were too heavy.

fuck. did someone break in? it’s halloween night, you wouldn’t be surprised. lots of people always engaged in reckless behavior this night of the year.

“hello?” you call out, sitting up sheepishly and hugging the blanket around you. you peek down the dark, luring hall and shiver. you gulp down your nerves and let out another call. “kilo? i thought i told you to stay in your room, kid.”

silence answers you.

it’s creepy. too creepy. you don’t like this anymore. you want to go upstairs and check on kilo, make sure he’s okay and maybe sleep next to him in his bed. you were creeped out and wanted to make sure he was safe mostly.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you turn back forward, preparing to stand up to make your debut upstairs. you’re met with the terrifying sight of a man over six feet standing over you, his mask staring down at you emotionless.

you don’t scream. no. you stare up at him with a gaping expression, mouth open and eyes wide in terror. your heart skips several beats and your entire world goes radio silent, a ringing noise in your ears. you were paralyzed. paralyzed from fear. you don’t know what to do, your fingers suddenly feel like twenty pounds and your throat is dry.

oh fuck. he’s gonna kill you now, move dumbass!

another long second passes before you quickly move, sitting up and trying to jump over the back of the couch. he’s blocking the front, and his hand comes down to grab your shirt and manhandle you down onto your back again. the couch is a pull out so you’re thrashing around with your legs stretched out, fist throwing weak punches. he easily holds your wrist down and stares silently down at you.

tears fill your eyes, trembling in fear. you try and muster up the courage to speak but each words stays on the tip of your tongue, wavering shakily in your head.

“who are you?!” you finally managed to to shriek, fist clenched and your wrists being held by his large hands. his fingers were thick and long, his body well over six feet with a large amount of mass. the size difference was laughable.

his heavy breathing echoes in your ears, taunting you. he doesn’t answer your question, instead he slowly picks up his knife and drags it down your neck. the tip of his knife catches into your skin lightly and you whimper at the feeling. it stings.

his knife is dragged from your neck to your collarbone, tugging aimlessly at your collar. his movements hold no rush, instead ease and stealth. his mask is staring down at you as you bite your lip, muffling your pained sniffles as the knife nicks at your collarbone.

“why are you doing this?” you croak. he doesn’t answer.

the knife along your skin continues its journey down your stomach until it drifts along your pajama shorts, slowly creeping underneath the waistband and letting it snap against your skin. he’s inhuman, not making a single noise and instead drinking in each of your cries and reactions to his touch.

his grip around your wrists stiffen, gripping you tighter and holding you down firmer onto the couch. your hips squirm weakly before you’re shut up by the small nick he delivers to your soft skin. a silent warning.

the knife against your neck and the rope around your wrists is a reminder to stay quiet and still as he slowly sinks his cock inside you. it’s thick and girthy, the size belittling all the other boys you’ve ever touched. it hurts, the feeling of having your walls getting stretched by his mushroom tip.

a small sob leaves at the feeling, your hands tugging weakly at the rope, pretty tears covering your flushed cheeks. a burn in your pussy aches your lower body, thighs tensing up as he inches his way deeper and deeper. your cunt squeezes him tight and he doesn’t give any reaction other then his fists grabbing the cushion around you tighter, the fabric wrinkling.

“t-that hurts, hey— stop, slow down at least,” you plead pitifully. your voice is smaller then intended, your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as the thickness has you going silent. you don’t have the bravery to complain any further, not after he pushes his knife a little closer to your neck. you go silent immediately.

the feeling of him sitting inside you still is only temporary before he slowly pushes out, leaving just the tip, before slamming back inside. he’s brutal with the way he buries himself deeply, making sure every centimeter of himself is squeezed tight. a moan you do your best to muffle escapes your throat.

he repeats the action again, slowly pulling out only to slam himself deeper again. somehow his tip presses against your g-spot, making you clench down and gasp. his hands grasp your waist, the difference in his fingers and your torso noticeable— he can almost fit his entire two hands around your stomach.

you were nothing compared to this big, burly man. not with the way he was holding your waist down and slamming his cock in and out, knife discarded by your side. your eyes roll back as you moan, lips quivering and producing noises you can no longer stop. not when he was this good at fucking you.

more slams of his hips had you clenching down, crying out for him to slow down and give you mercy. he was mean, battering your insides and plummeting his cock inside, like he didn’t wanna go a single second without being sheathed inside your warm cunt. he can feel the way your walls squeeze him and a low grunt escapes his throat, squeezing your waist tight.

one if his hands grabs your neck and squeezes, not gentle at all. you can feel your air ways get cut off and your eyes go wide. and your pussy tightens even more, making him cum deep inside. his load is thick and hot, painting your insides the creamy white color. it’s not surprising you immediately cum afterwards, the penetration and the warm stickiness making you cry loudly and release in his cock.

he slowly pulls his cock out and watches as the cream pie leaks out of your pussy, staining the couch fabric a dusty white. you shudder at the feeling of emptiness after being used to being stuffed full. a small hiccup leaves you, trembling still.

you gasp as one of his hands grab your thighs, holding it still while his hand slowly grabs the knife beside you. you stiffen in fear and shake your head, whimpering and pleading.

“please don’t— i was good— don’t hurt me—“ you’re shut up by him squeezing your thigh hard, a silent warning. you shut up, muffling your hiccups and cries. you watch as he slowly drags his knife to your meaty thigh and presses down with a little bit of pressure, making little lines. small droplets of blood drip down your thigh and you want to vomit.

he tilts his head down at you, silently wondering so many things. why were you crying? if you looked closely, he had marked his name. that was no reason to cry.

[petew21-blog]

Like father like son, Part 1

Father P.O.V.

My ex-girlfriend is a witch. Fucked up right? Yeah I never believed in any of this and she knew. And after cheating on her she said she would "make me believe". What a load of crap. I thought. Well, not anymore. Me and my son found ourselves in each others bodies. It happened just as we were normally chatting. We weren't that close, cause I was working most of the time and he was out with his friends enjoying his teen years. I wanted to get close to him, but he seemed to not want to open up to me.

If you have seen a movie Vice Versa where the Dad and son swap bodies while touching the skull. Or is it a transformation? Ah, doesn't matter. Well it happened a bit like that too. We swapped bodies literaly. The clothes stayed where they were previously.

After the initial shock and realisation that it was my girlfriend who caused it, we went to get information from her. My son had to drive, cause his body didn't have a license yet. The start was horrible. He couldn't even keep his eyes on the road, so I had to yell at him what to do. But eventually we got to her house.

On the front door was a note that said:"Went on a holiday for a month. And to my lovely ex-boyfriend - having sex with someone else makes it irreversible :) have fun"

Yeah, so we found out that we were fucked until she got back from her holiday. A month in my teen son's hormone filled body and him in my horny middle aged one. Our chances are very slim I tell you

We got back home, staying quiet on the ride home. We went into the living room and got on the sofa. Then we made a deal. We had to respect our bodies as if it were our own, no sex allowed, no drugs and alcohol. We had to scratch the alcohol, has David said he wants to enjoy the adulthood. But besides that we agreed on everything. We then proceeded to tell each other the details of our schedules. I had to mentally prepare for being in high school again and he had to prepare for a real job. I was actually kind of happy to get back there. I missed being a teen, having less responsibilities etc. Being you, enjoying life, music, love, sex. Ah, fuck. That's gonna be hard

We even had a talk about respecting each others privacy, but after we thought about it, we came to a conclusion that there was no way we could avoid looking at our new bodies naked. We had to take shower some day, or take a shit. All of these are gonna be pretty intimate so that's why.

We agreed that our bedroom's are gonna me our own places that the other can't got to.

And so we went on and parted our ways while leaving to our bedrooms. Maybe we shoould have went to each other's bedroom, but we haven't thought about that. All our clothes were in the other room, but neverminf. My room has its own access to the bathroom so I'll enjoy that.

I took off my shirt first. My sons's athletic lean teen body just being there. My finger tips touching my haird, my lips my cheeks. Tracing my neck, through the ridges I now had, going down to my beautiful abs covered in hair. I was getting hard, is it weird being hard from touching your son's body? Jesus that sounds horrible. But I am not touching my son, he is touching himself, I am just the one in control now.

I got on the ground and took off my jeans. Revealing black boxers with KISS logo and two hairy and long legs. Quite similar to mine actually. Genetics is strong I guess

I headed to the bathroom to get a proper look and clean my new body. I can't neglect my son now.

I took off his boxers. His dick flacid now, but still big. "That's my boy". I went to the bath and turned on the water. But I had no intention in lying in the water now. I had much exploring to do. I started from my feet. The beautiful and clean feet. No hard skin. I took the water and sopa into my hands and brought it up everytime I explored a part of his body. Everything wet marked a place I already knew now

I was now soaping his body above the waist line, enjoying the tight skin of his body. Being young is so amazing. He is mostly hairless, if you don't count some private areas.

I was now soaped up completely, just scrubbing the body up and down. Enjoying every movement I took.

Wow his butt is really nice, almost woman-like. Maybe I could let some guy fuck me. Wait, I can't do that. We can't have sex in each others bodies or we would seal the deal. But masturbation is not off the table I guess.

I took my middle and index finger to try out the resistsance of his hole. Nah, this hole already knows what is about to happen. And then it hit me. Fuck, his prostate his so sensitive. I went and pushed my fingers inside, while my other hand started jerking my already throbbing cock.

It couldn't have been long cause I was almost collapsing from the abundance of strong emotion and stimuli. I shot cum into the bath and then got down into the water.

What a body. Maybe this month isn't gonna be so bad after all

I got out of the shower, to find my body in his own clothes staring at me

"Wow, dad. I see you didn't waste any second huh? Hope you enjoyed it"

"Dave, it's... I'm sorry, it's the hormones. I haven't been this horny for so long. I couldn't control it"

"It's fine dad. I am gonna do the same tonight"

The rest of the week went on pretty smoothly. There were some embarassing moments, like hearing myself having an orgasm in the other bedroom, or finding open porn videos on tv, but besides that not much. I was enjoying being a young guy in high school again and having David's friends around was really great. We hung out all the time. But his friend Liam seemed like he wanted to be more than friends with David. Which complicated things a bit. I was in David's gay body now and his body wanted Liam. But I was holding on

One day we were on a beach just enjoying the weekend. We played some beach volleyball and then we got back to our towels to sunbathe

Andrew, my straight friend, then said:"David? Isn't that your dad with a new chick? Damn, he scored a nice one this time. Would like this one for myself too. Look at those tits."

And he was right. David was walking around with a blonde woman that had a hand on his waist. What took me off guard was that my body started making out with her and grabbing her tits. Not caring who might see.

Wait, does this mean what I think it means? Are we really stuck like this now? I just hope he didn't have sex with her

I changed the story a tiny bit. I was really inspired by the photos so it went to a different direction than I hoped for. I hope you don't mind. If you do, please message me and I'll do another one especially for you :)

A story request from inbox: Hi, can you write a story about a closeted widow muscle dad swapping with his straight twink son and somehow their nethaw body fits their role? The dad in his twink son's body came out as a bottom gay and the sun in his muscular dad's for found a girlfriend which he fvcks every night. Thank you