#yeah . . . i got off track a bit

[clockworkreapers]

[seaofreverie]

YAYYYYY‼️‼️‼️‼️

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

I've been seeing this reels or tiktok videos about people who are so disarming face-wise or vibe-wise which causes random strangers to tell them all their secrets or trauma dump to them, so imagine a reader like that who's an executive of one of the toxic gangs in Tokrev like Kanto Manji/Tenjiku/Bonten. You're so disarming that your allies or even enemies end up telling you about your recent breakup or trauma when you didn't even do anything. You're just there like: 😀😀😀???

However, I can see your fellow executives encouraging it because of the useful information. Koko likes the idea of spending less money on informants, the Haitanis love the tea, and if you're in a gang with more ambitious people like Izana and Kisaki they'll weaponize you 💀.

Lmao oh the poor reader who ends up in that situation. They just want to hang out and have a good time but instead they keep learning everyone's darkest secrets...

The first time you meet Izana is in the orphanage, he's new but is immediately drawn to you. You feel safe to him, different then how the others feel so of course he declares you as his servant right away. You felt a bit offended by that at first but went along with him anyway.

During the day time when the other kids are around, he's strong, a king. But when it's just the two of you he tells you everything. How alone he is, how much he misses his mum and Emma, how scared he is here. You just listen and hug him through it all, telling him it'll be ok.

He introduces Kakucho to you when he arrives, Kakucho who's just been told to forget his parents. That night, after Izana falls asleep, Kakucho breaks his word to Izana. Telling you all about his parents and what happened, about how he agreed to be Izanas servant too and about how he doesn't know what to do anymore. You soothe his fears and tell him that you'll be here for him too, the three of you together.

Over the next few years the three of you grow up together, following Izana. He founds the 8th gen black dragons but keeps the two of you away from it.

You're there for him when he finds out the truth about Shinichiro, you watch as he throws things around, smashing them and yells. Watch as he runs out of energy and ends up crying into your lap and chest. You're not entirely sure what to say in this situation but comfort him the best you can. He ends up falling asleep on you and you sit there, wondering what will happen next.

He threatens you when he wakes up, he does it often. He'll let you see his emotions then threaten you to never tell anyone about it. Though you both know he's bluffing, he couldn't hurt you.

Shinichiro dies and that terrifies you because Izana shuts down. It's the first time he won't talk or let his feelings out. You and Kakucho do your best to care for him but you can see it's not helping, nothing is changing, not until he arrives...

Kisaki is a strange boy. One minute he looks at you with warmth, like you remind him of someone or something else then the next he's glaring at you like he hates you. He refuses to be left alone with you, it's almost like he's afraid of something.

Izana invites you to join tenjiku, he wants you there and says you can be very helpful for him. Of course yoy say yes, you're just happy to see him like his old self again. But...things are different this time. He's back to opening up to you, emotions spilling out before he can stop them but you can tell he's holding something back.

You get to finally meet the others, the S62 members you've heard so much about. Shion immediately takes a shine to you, introducing himself and bragging about his past achievements, asking you if you want to see him fight. Mochi soon shoves him out of the way to introduce himself, he shakes your hand and says he looks forward to working with you. He seems so genuine in his words that you can't help but smile back. The Haitani brother's approach you from either side, slinging their arms around you and "welcoming you".

You think you've got them all figured out until that night and the next day. All four of them end up seeking you out alone and spending some quiet time with you. Telling out their insecurities and ambitions, letting you see more of them. All of them laugh it off after, saying they were just kidding around but you could tell they meant it.

After that you all fall into a comfortable routine of preparing to attack toman. The Haitani brother's want to know the latest gossip, Kakucho tells you about his worries for Izana, Mochi and Shion work with you, helping you get to people who's secrets tenjiku wants and Izana still confides you but without giving you details.

The day you attack toman, you're paired up with Shion. You have a good and bad cop kinda routine, where Shion beats them then you kindly help them back up and take care of their wounds. They spill all kinds of secrets to you while you help them. Everything from the structure of toman, to it's meeting spot, to it's members.

You meet Mucho and Sanzu later, the meeting itself is very formal but once again they seek you out later. Mucho get's onto the subject of Mikey and let's it slip about his guilt of choosing Izana. You're about to try comforting him when he realises what he just says and quickly leaves. Leaving you alone with Sanzu...

"What are you?" You flinch slightly when he speaks, forgetting he was even there. He tilts his head at you, curious as to why Mucho just told you that, why he let his guard down around you. More importantly he wonders if you could be helpful for other people, a way of being able to read what Mikey's thinking and what he wants. He walks away without another word, instead planning.

You meet Koko the next day, he's still hurt from Mucho and no ones even offered him any first aid. You sigh and fix him up yourself, he watches you intensely the whole time before muttering that someone called Inupi normally does this for him. He practically gives you his life story after you ask who that is, even Akane's name slipping out. You're both horrified after, Koko realising what he just said and you after hearing such a sad story. You're not sure what to say next so you tell him about your own childhood. The two of you end up as friends by the end of the day.

You're in your room one day when Kakucho suddenly barges in, frantically talking about a murder and how sorry he is for not telling you sooner. Your blood runs cold as you ask him to explain. "Kisaki and Izana planned what????"

You run to Izana after that, need to talk him, need him to explain. He must be so lost after that so he needs someone to talk to right?

Someone grabs you before you can climb up the stairs to him. Hanma. He has you by the waist, stopping you from interrupting Kisaki and Izana's conversation. Refusing to let you stop Izana from falling further into darkness and ruining Kisaki's plans.

You next see Izana at the docks, getting ready for the fight. He refuses to even look at you, too focused on the fight and Mikey then his own emotions. Instead you stand next to Kakucho, waiting for all this to be over so you can be alone with Izana.

Kakucho tells you to stay on the shipping containers while the fight goes on, you promise to stay and not move.

You nearly break your promise a few times, when you see each of the S62 fall or when Koko starts getting upset but you listen to Kakucho.

It's not until Izana starts losing it and arguing with Kakucho that you hastily climb down, running to him. But you never reach him.

Instead you see Kakucho get shot, you try to run to him, to get in front of him but someone catches your arm. Turning around, you see Sanzu stopping you from getting closer. Time slows down after that, Izana gets shot, the gun falls to the floor, Sanzu let's you go and you fall to your knees beside Izana and Kakucho.

You frantically try to stop the bleeding but Izana grabs your hands instead, holding them. Telling you his emotions for the last time and letting the rest of his secrets slip out. Kakucho reaching out to do the same.

You're not sure how long you kneel there, they both stopped talking already and you know they're both gone, telling yourself that you're imagining the warmth in Kakucho's fingers.

The Haitani brother's help you up but they don't keep you with them, instead guiding you over to Koko and telling the two of you to run.

The next day you wake up at Koko's apartment, where you hear the news. Running to the hospital you practically launch yourself into Kakucho's arms. This time you both tell your secrets, helping each other to cope with the loss of Izana and talking through it together.

When he's released from the hospital, you go to meet him so you can both pay your last respects to Izana. Then you both head to your apartment, looking after each other....at least until a tall man arrives months later looking for both of you.

[pigeonclaw]

Honestly, I think Splashtail has a point. Nine lives is a messed up amount of time for leaders to stay in power. And StarClan sucks and makes harmful decisions all the time, so why should the Clans have to turn to them to make any choice? StarClan, who let Ashfur into heaven despite being guilty of conspiracy and attempted murder and not feeling sorry for it in the slightest. StarClan, who threw Juniperclaw into hell for making one choice that he thought was justified and then using the last moments of his life trying to atone for it. StarClan, who considered banishing a loyal medicine cat to hell for breaking a rule they encouraged her to break when she was young, despite living several years after that and making no other mistakes. Many other examples but those ones stick in my mind a lot.

I miss the older (OotS) concept of StarClan as just a thing that exists and cats wind up there for reasons unknown. But if the series isn't going to use that anymore and instead is going to use StarClan as a judge who makes you review your whole life to decide whether you belong in heaven or hell, then I'm going to criticize their actions. If they are such poor judges of character that they bless villains and punish the innocent by mistake, then they should not have any say in living Clan decisions!

[lokh]

oh my god. a manga where everyones actually wearing masks???

edit: NEVERMIND jumped the gun here it was just for one scene cos they were at a nail salon 😭

edit 2: hmm actually. depending on how recently this manga was drawn it could just be reflective of how not everyone wears masks. the customers are wearing masks in the salon but outside usually not but Sometimes. they are

edit 3: I WAS RIGHT??

[milkyberryjsk]

i graduated ^__^

[leo-regulus]

Man, knowing that I'm less than two weeks from my last final is really shaking me because I have so many things I said I'd do after I graduate and they're very close now!!!

One of them is going to be leaving all the discord servers I don't talk in and also pruning following / friends lists like hell and back. This will allow me to finally come off invisible on discord, and it'll be nice to have discord statuses available to me again ;~;

[lousylemonseminar]

Speed writing this so it'll suck ass and not look like my writing but aro-spec beams chip

"You look cute.." The warm lights of the tavern feels sharp like the blare of a club as a rather hot looking guy scoots in a seat next to Chip at the bar.

He sits still, eyes widening at the comment before his head swerves in attempt to find whoever the guy's talking to because it can't be him. Until his eyes inevitably say it is.

"h. what?" Chip doesn't need to hear it again - maybe doesn't want to - so he doesn't know why he asks but he can't help but fake an awkward smile.

"You got anyone with you tonight?"

Oh God. Chip tries to hide the grimace tugging at his face. "Uuuuhhhhhh.. I. I'm sorry, 'm not really looking out for anyone tonight- I MEAN LIKE. I have my friends and stuff and they probabl-"

The GUY scoots in closer, "Not even a drink?"

Why does this suck? He should be happy that anyone's trying to hit on him despite whatever Jay says is Trash Looks what does she know anyways >:(

But it's just. Weird

"HAHA. NO. I mean, gotta. Get. Gotta drive my friends back so, no drinks for me, right?"

"Drive?"

"yeah.. my. Carriag- carrag- ca.. car."

"What's a 'car-"

"OKAY, BYE." His hands push up from against his stool and darts over to whatever direction his feet can maneuver him through.

Until he notices a particular peak of orange and pulls his way past to Jay. To take a very exaggerated sigh as he leans against the wall next to her.

And an even longer one before she shut him up with a more monotone voice "what's up?"

He doesn't know actually.

He doesn't really know why he freaks out so much about things like this

Like with Amanda. Or Jazz - to be fair, Jazz came on kinda hard. Or Rachel. But that's kinda different - not really freaking out, moreso "that's the sweetest thing I'll ever hear from someone I don't know and I have to say something really banger to match the vibe and the pressure's there about it"

".. how do you deal with like. Being hit on?"

Chip can already imagine the irony Jay's smiling about on her face

And starting to chuckle about "Depends - who's tryin' to get YOUR conch ?"

"don't be rude about it >:[ I pull plenty of people, man" He can giggle about it maybe but not her >>:^ "Dunno - just some guy. It was freaky."

From some sympathetic look on Jay's eyes, the humour seemed to slip out of his voice.

".. Is it. Supposed to feel really freaky when you say something like. "my lover"?.. That's a universally freaky thing. Right?"

"Depends, I guess." UGHHHH ofc it does "Do you want a lover? It's not too "freaky" or whatever for me but."

He hadn't really thought about that. But surely not a lot of people do. It's not something ever at the forefront, especially when you got your friends and a Boat. That's all someone needs. But if he were to think about it.. does he?

"Lover" feels weird. Like an oath. An oath HE can't commit to. Or wants to commit to. Sure, all those songs that sing about their "Sweet Caroline" or whatever are really jazzy (lol) and fun to sing along to. But that's not really how It feels, does it?

"eughh. I dunno. I don't think so really. Is that allowed?"

"Is what alloow.... Oh. Well, yeah - we're pirates, we do whatever.! We don't have to be in a relationship or something." Jay smiles and that feels like all he needs.

But then she starts chuckling again "Maybe you still like Amanda" and a comically disdained face from Chip pulls her away from that idea

"I'm not going to you for anything anymore >:^" crossing his arms

"noooooo I'm sorryyy" in the most nonchalant way in the world

"NUH UH."

[bmpmp3]

i think its really fitting that the "this shit........ is so ass :'') " anime girl reaction image is from oshi no ko because that is also what my expression was like the whole time while reading the entire last third of the story

[lesbiancolumbo]

since you're THE joni mitchell connoisseur in my life, I looked in your joni tags & found the playlist you made for those who are interested in getting into her music. two songs in & I could feel tears lurking in the wings. her voice is so beautiful. oh my god she sobs.jpg

i know we throw the word around a lot when it comes to the artists we love but there really truly isn't anyone else like joni, she's a one of a fucking kind and one of our very best. i'm so glad that playlist is getting some use! imo it's a mix of her best songs/albums and then some of the tracks i think need more love lol.... anyway just wait until you get to her cover of summertime! i cry every time

[undersea-umlaut]

Every time someone draws a man with round glasses who has short dark hair in a fluffy side part with a white streak I sit and stare for longer than I should...

the modern prometheus 

[daemonbrain]

Part 2

1.8k, cw: ghosts a pervert, smut, readers husband is piece of work, not proofread.

Simon Riley who first saw you at the butcher's shop on the phone. 

You were a pretty thing. Wearing a pink little yoga set, one arm holding your mat and the other holding your phone to your ear as you wait for the butcher to bring out your cut of meat.

Which was taking a long time

Simon would’ve had it chopped and packed to go by now. Though, he can’t complain with the view he has of your ass- you. The man was touch starved. He hadn’t been back home in a while, back-to-back deployments keeping him occupied. His only company being his calloused and scraped hands roughly jerking himself until he came, bordering on unpleasurable. Not what some could consider enjoyable, but try being in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere for weeks on end and see if you care so much about gentle.

The borderline perverted look you were blissfully unaware of was tracking down your form. He stared at the way the material tightly clung on to every bit of you in a welcoming way, a second skin. The sweat on you from your little session.

Just how flexible does yoga make a bird like you?

It was only when he heard a grating sound come from your phone that he snapped out of his trance. Even with his bad ears from all the bullets whizzing past him, bombs going off within meters of him, and the usual shit show he did for a living he could hear the voice which bled through your phone's speaker.

"Get me a steak this time. Nonna that nasty shit from last time!"

You hurriedly turned your volume down as it blasted in your ear, startled by the voice. Chewing on your lip you pivoted towards the counter to see if your order had been brought out; the motion to no avail as the employee continued chopping away in the back room.

It was only when your other hand came into full view from the motion he noticed the absolute rock on your finger.

"Honey, I thought the salmon was pretty good." That prick clearly firing something back as you winced away from your phone once again. Gritting your teeth as if biting back your arguments, looking around to occupy your time as the man on the phone continues to speak. "I know... I'm sorry. Don't worry, it'll be ready by 7." You placatingly cooed.

"Listen, I have to go. I love y-" You began, but the moment the words tumbled from your lips you pulled the phone fully from your cheek to see a blank screen with the time staring back on you. The asshole hung up!

What a fuckin tosser.

Simon hears the butcher finally call your name with familiarity and with a sigh you step towards the counter. 

He leaned on to the wall further as he had been the entire time. Silent. Unsettling. A stark contrast to your bright appearance in the shop, the larger man brooded in his corner waiting his turn.

“See ya’ next Friday!” You still managed a bright smile at the butcher who handed you your meat.

A mild thing like you really shouldn’t be talked to so thoughtlessly, some guys are fuckwits though. He never liked the type. Why lock a bird down with a ring if you were gonna be mean to her?

“S’cuse me sir, i’m just gonna push past you here” You asked. With widened eyes, Simon gruffly mumbled a “Yeah,” out before creating a stupidly small space.

Maybe he really did want you to push past him. Or just push up on him but oh well.

Sweeping past him, you give him a toothy smile as you had so sweetly done to the butcher, as if you hadn’t got yelled at less than five minutes ago. God you really have no common sense, beaming up at the lurker in the corner at least twice your size. A girl as pretty as you should really stick to herself.

From that interaction on, Simon found himself being guided by the memory of you back to the butcher shop the next Friday.

And the next…

And the next.

Every week progressively standing closer and closer to you as you picked up your usual order. One day you had taken the liberty of starting small talk with him after recognizing his unmistakable stature. After all, there were only so many people you had seen in this shop and none so… large.

You could not deny you found this mystery man disquieting. Always dressed in dark colours, not so much as a word coming from him. Like clockwork you would come in after hot yoga, greet the butcher, he would come in, silence would ensue as you both waited for your meat, and you would leave with a quick smile.

It was rude. He had never even said a simple hello to you! Though, you suppose that it could be due to your own curt exits. The thought of the unkindness you might’ve exhibited subconsciously sent your mind into a spiral, leading to your abrupt introduction.

After all, who were you to judge! Kindness is and should always be the response in your books.

At this kindness, Simon swore he had to take a breath in as you politely outstretched your hand and spoke your name casually. Tilting his head down to your face he raises a brow skeptically, and then firmly shakes your head.

He failed to hide the shudder which wracked his body. The way your hand effortlessly slipped into his. Soft and manicured engulfed in his.

“Simon.”

“Well it’s good to meet you Simon” With the twinkly little smile you would grace him as you hauled it out of the shop. He felt the shiver go down his spine a second time when you spoke his name for the first time.

And then- it happened.

You giggled. A soft thing, no doubt intended to be small. It wasn’t to Simon though. It reverberated throughout the room, rang so prettily in his ears. Fuck. He would remember that sound later on tonight.

“Are you cold? You keep shivering. It’s pretty harsh out there right now.”

“Nah. Not really.” His accent thick as he shrugged.

Letting out a little “mhm” you nod and look back to the counter.

“I was freezing outside! Usually I walk home-” Simon already knew that “-but today I called my husband to come grab me! Way too cold!”

That visibly made him stiffen. Of course. Perfectly normal that guy is coming to get you, he’d be an idiot to leave you walking home alone in the cold.

If you were his girl, Simon wouldn’t have let you out of his sight. Fuck sakes you practically had “come mess with me” written all over you. There were creeps all over the place nowadays, (thought the creep).

He would’ve carried everything for you, scarfed down whatever the hell you had taken the time to prepare him. That husband of yours doesn’t like your salmon? Simon would. Hell if he didn’t, he’d cram it down his throat with gratitude anyways. He doubted anything could be worse than some of the rations he’s eaten on duty. 

That train of thought is pretty redundant when he takes note of how you wouldn’t be able to leave the bed to make anything.

Maybe you’d cram something of his down your throat in gratitude.

Shaking his head subtly, he hears the bells of the store door opening. He watched your face fall as you step away from him and it’s when he sees your husband's look of complete irritation he understands why.

You had grabbed your order swiftly and with a quick wave goodbye you were on your way back to your husband. Simon could only register your husband's whisper-yell as he disapprovingly glared his way. “The fuck are you doin talking to him?”. And with that you were hurriedly ushered out.

You deigned it necessary to continue greeting Simon, have little chats about the weather, any plans he had for the weekend. Tossing in your stupid jokes that he would laugh at. You interpreted it as something closer to a breathy snort-hopefully positive- and it went on as such for weeks

And every time he returned home Friday night, he came home with only one thought after. You.

As he laid in bed the same thought persisted as he slipped his cock out of his boxers, red and weeping for some sort of stimulation. He took to his usual harsh pace. You’d be so much softer.

You’d be so nice to him wouldn’t you? Coo some compliment as he lets you tug at him. Fuck he wouldn’t know what to take first.

Would you give him a blowie or a hand job? 

No. You wouldn’t be on your knees- not yet. If you’d let him have you, you’d be on your back in an instant. He’d rip the stitches of those leggings right down the middle, your panties next.

“Fuuuuuck” he moaned into the quiet of his room. He’d stick it in slow, he’d try. It would be torture not to ram himself right up to the hilt, but he’d do it for such a good girl.

That’s what you were, weren’t you? Always a nice word for someone? What would you say to him when he began to rut into you like a madman. When you would feel the pummeling intrusion, his head knocking into the deepest parts of you.

He’d be able bend you into so many different positions that you’d better hope that yoga has taught you well. Split your legs open to accommodate his imposing body size as he’d take purchase between them. Then you better hope your cunny can accommodate his other size when he spears you open on his cock.

Would you take it smiling? Would your tears roll down your cheeks, the prodding bordering too much? You’d take it either way, he knew you could. He’d rub at your clit with such tenderness he never afforded himself (as gentle as he could anyway). He’d make sure you begged to stay on his cock forever, fuck himself so deep you would be too stupid to pull away unknowing of where he ended and you started. Not that you’d have to care.

He’d flip you on to all fours and rip away your clothes entirely, pounding you from the back and instead of just his own labored breaths, the sound of skin slapping together would ring out.

In silent stoicism, he feels his balls tighten up at the thought of your perfect face stuffed into the pillows screaming your thank you’s. You probably were just as nice with someone stuffing themselves into your pussy.

At both his ruthless ministrations and boundless imagination, his release spurted all over his hand with a breathy sigh. When you were here he’d make sure to slam his hips to yours and keep them flush against you, coat your insides in hot cum better than your limp-dick husband ever could. That man wouldn’t be able to fuck you the way Simon knew he could. You deserve someone who could make you go stupid on his dick, not cry of frustration like you probably did everytime that knob who thinks himself a man rolled over after finishing himself off.

Not that you’ll have to worry about that soon

…

He wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways.

[screampied]

#OOHMAMI! g. suguru

☆ sum. cuban link, diamond cross—you’re a big fan of suguru geto, the top street racer in tokyo. he doesn’t wanna win any more races, he wants to win you this time. keep at it and he might have to fuck you on the highway.

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, suguru has a (dick) piercing / tats, semi-public, riding, brief ōral (f! receiving), you get eaten out his window lol, overstim, dirty talk, praise, size kink, impact play, petnames, drive safe, continuation here :)

an. chase atlantic inspired me ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

“you, yeah you. wanna ride?”

stop thinking dirty, stop thinking dir—

you stop dead in your tracks, hearing the deafening vrooming of a certain nissan skyline gtr along with a raspy deep voice. you knew that voice, in fact you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the suguru geto, infamous street racer who’s won more races around the world than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his dark purple helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.

“really?” you mumble, barely even pressed up against his tinted window and you could smell his loud rich cologne from there. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. geto’s got pretty long tresses of black hair that’s usually down, but in every race it’s always pinned back. a few loose strands run down his face, peeking out of his helmet and his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘s. geto’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.

“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his silvery flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the flashy racer’s seat flies open on its on, and you step in. “i take it you’re here to see the race?”

no, no you weren’t.

you couldn’t lie to yourself—you were here to see the race, but you were to here to see geto also. you’ve only seen him during his interviews, magazines, and sometimes on tv where his races would be broadcasted for the entire world to see.

but, you managed to snag enough money to actually see him in the flesh.

without a second thought you make your way inside. on the inside, you were screaming. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream. immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of his beloved str. you assumed it was an older model but he made it work anyway — it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and oh, the smell . . it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. it’s really masculine and it makes your thighs squeeze together once you recline back a bit. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its glitzy beauty.

it’s pretty, you’ve only seen pictures. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it. the rest of the cars usually gathered near the meet up spot before the race actually starts.

“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” geto snickers, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.

indeed, you heard about how geto built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic. a well known one, but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.

geto tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”

“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.

“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. geto’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.

sweetheart, you don’t know why but that single pet name had you feeling hot for a moment. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, you spot a toothpick sticking out from the corner of his crooked lips. he’s so pretty — he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the highly anticipated race, a gloved thumb taps against his furry steering glimmering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”

shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice even his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘suguru geto’ in bright bold letters.

drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.

one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.

geto positions his rear view mirror for the millionth time before noticing you zeroing your eyes at his gear shift that glistens from the dozens of rhinestones that glue against the cover. countless diamonds stick up and down the leather skin of the handle and it’s so pretty.

“hold on, sweetheart,” geto purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that’s stood in front of the row of cars.

geto’s still got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.

it was intense, you could almost feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. the tall woman that’s dressed in nothing but sheer black carries a hefty checked flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.

the cars that were lined up beside and next to geto start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement, his gold pipes coughing up clouds of purple smoke. geto gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a cunning grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast, heh.”

and he wasn’t kidding.

the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.

his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his rusted pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way.

vroooooom, he’s flying by each checkpoint and you could almost smell the adrenaline that’s coursing through his pulsating veins.

the thrill . .

you felt it all ghost through your own veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. geto makes a few sharp turns, keeping an eye on the time every so often. his personal best was around five minutes and seventy-seven seconds. with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each whizzing mile.

over time though—you can’t help but be a bit nosy. your eyes shift toward the racer and god, you’re just now noticing how handsome he was.

geto usually wore sweats along with his street gear. he didn’t have to wear his helmet but he preferred it just in case. its all black with a splash of purple—you can see his signature lazily signed near the very top. outlined beside his name was a curling design of smoke. the part where he sees through was all darkly tinted so you could hardly see his face unless you squinted or he took it off.

it’s like it added more to his appeal in a way. he sat manspread and doing so, it gave you a one way ticket to stare straight down at his barely hidden bulge.

fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—

“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own lewd fantasm. geto’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place. one hand’s lazily on the steering wheel and he fakes a yawn.

oh he’s cocky.

with a quick glance out his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”

“i—”

it’s like his cologne got louder.

you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. suguru, the suguru geto was flirting with you?

and the thing that got you the most was that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore—every few seconds, you’d lock eyes against him near the ear view mirror, feeling hot once his eyes slowly rove down your figure through his dark tinted helmet.

not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shamelessly, you did think he was referring to that kind of ride minutes earlier.

and the more you stared at his hardened bulge through his grey sweats, the more you started to think. .

but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.

not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked - literally.

geto positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his loose sweats just so you could ride something else entirely.

instead of riding just his car — you rode his dick, and fuck was he just ridiculously big.

too big, and he knows it. geto groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your slimy gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing. he’s so big, easily rearranging your insides and be barely even had to move a muscle.

he’s ruthless - but your hips were even more ruthless though, far more.

geto knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the swerving stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over.

you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length from each slapping thrust.

belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f- fuck, what about t- the race?” you speak in a breathy tone, your tempo becoming more and more relentless. the salaciously enticing jerk of your unsteady hips gradually turn into rough unstable bounces and he kisses his teeth. geto feels the convulsing veins that run down his cock pulse right through him and between your walls, you feel it too.

“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a sleazy grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your rickety thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further down your chest. he cups one of your bouncing tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, what a pretty fuckin’ body. look at you girl,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.

a trembling whimper dies out your throat at the feeling of his swollen fat cockhead vigorously thrusting in and out of your dribbling entrance.

you’re just so soaked. it’s like you can’t help but be sopping wet on his lap and he loves it. sloshes of sobs echo out of your pussy and your legs pathetically quaver directly on top of him.

both of you groan in complete unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake a bit despite him pushing down a few miles. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars trying to catch up to geto.

they didn’t have a chance,

they looked like tiny splotching dots in the far distance. geto even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.

typical.

“s- suguru,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. he’s so thick. you swivel your hips around him, gasping every time his dick piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold material makes a good portion of your thighs quake and you can’t help but coo out a few sweet ‘ooh’ or ‘ah’s right next to the shell of his ear. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and he didn’t even bother taking them off.

yet.

“so fuckin’ big, shiiiit.” you’d whimper, trying to swerve your way all around him. he’s just too big, you were even surprised he fit. you had to go down slow, aligning yourself against him — every few seconds his cock would pop out of you, making that cute squelch sound that makes his suck his teeth in annoyance.

“mhm, ‘n you’re takin’ it so well. you’re a big girl, fuckin’ take it,” he rasps in a hushed tone, nipping a few teeth near the inside of your neck. his helmet along with his toothpick ends up falling near the side of his seat with a loud thud.

your hips were killer.

unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f- fuck, who taught you how ‘ta ride? heh, tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”

your whiny moans only pitch louder once he grips a nice chunk of your ass with one hand, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.

“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, growing more and more dumb the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock. his peeling sack hangs from underneath and he’s so swollen, you feel it.

maddened angry balls entirely reddened and puffed up from the delicious stimulation. with every sharp pull of your hips bouncing up and down, he feels himself shriveling — he’s so sensitive inside of you, and he can almost taste his own pleasure. whilst you continue to twirl your ass around in rotation for him, you couldn’t help but shamelessly salivate at the thought of imagining just how full he might be.

“sugu—fuuuckk,” and a bead of sweat races down the side of your face. geto’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was practically the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the annual street races.

“bet you are. sloppy girl,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down his lap over and over, preparing to gush all over the dick that’s currently nestled inside of you. he’s got such a mouth watering curve of his cock that makes your stomach twist and churn.

the kind of curve that doesn’t involve his motor vehicle, that kind.

geto’s dick knew how to do swerves on its own, it even knew how to carve an entire bumpy race track allllll through your insides with his fat pink tip. “touch yourself, pretty. gimme a show before you mess up my fuckin’ seats.”

you could hear the sass in his voice along with a drip of vex and you’d giggle if you weren’t being ruthless stuffed full of inches. “o- okay,” you breathe through clenched teeth, guiding your hands up and down your body. geto’s dark eyes stare at you intently.

he stared at the way your hands caress your pretty plump tits, feeling down the valley of your exposed chest. his eyes flicker toward you then back at the road, then at you again - he repeats it, feeling his own muscles starting to tighten through his clothing. “ngh, suguru. can’t hold—”

your addictive slams against his cock got more intense until he’s fully buried balls deep inside of your squeezing cunt. you hear the saturated plops that’s squealing out of your pussy and you can’t even believe that’s you that’s sounding like that.

your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.

“fuck, cum then. cum on me, girl,” he grunts, one hand grabbing a nice fat piece of your ass again before spanking it.

you moan, the sharp brief twinge of elation sending you a shiver that immediately sends convulses between your thighs. lewd filthy thoughts foil at your brain and pretty soon, the car steams up with steamy clouded fog.

erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. geto feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”

whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock. the wrinkled skin of his base continues to stick against his sack due to you bouncing against him.

it’s hot, literally.

with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips, goddamn,” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his mushroom tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.

you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a soft upward shimmy of his hips. milliseconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick while at the very same time, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, geto uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.

he was close.

the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and geto groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.

once he puts his car in park, geto falls back into his seat with own sable dark eyes flickering back to the very depths of his skull.

you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. blinking twice, geto smears his glossed lips together before exhaling, “phew,” and he swats another palm against your ass. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with honeyed slick.

you’re damping his cock and the squelches you make, they were loud.

so wet and slimy. he could listen to it all day, just the sound of your sweet cunt whimpering out sweet sloshes of nothing. the overwhelming sensitivity leaves a sourly candied taste in your mouth and you whine, feeling him squeeze a hand against your right hip. with a raspy out of breath tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”

“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.

as he grabs your hips, steadying you—you intake a breath, remembering how many inches he was buried inside. your tummy tucks inward and you whimper, feeling him preparing to shoot pure blanks. with a size like his, geto’s cock never failed to leave its sloppy infamous mark.

you’re just marveled at how fat his tip is, it’s voluntarily french-kissing up against sweet beloved cervix that’s screaming out curses just as much as you. he’s got two hands on your veering hips, smooth fabric of his racing gloves sliding up and down your wobbly. with pouty compressed lips, you moan, bringing your hands to grab onto his shoulders. “cum, cum in me—fuck.”

geto huskily groans, tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you the final perfunctory thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body. you could see a bit of his tatted sleeves peek from underneath his shirt - his tense muscles bulging.

“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty black lashes sticking against his droopy hooded sockets.

it spurts out slowly but surely.

globs and globs of frothy cum bubble down the swollen sides of his cock and you feel it all. it’s toasty and warm and as he’s pouring his all into you, painting your gummy walls his pristine-white color, you couldn’t help but lean in.

geto’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly to a certain attractive degree. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed slobbering down your slick cunt.

he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh cooling mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

oh, he’s obsessed—

screw the race by this point, all he wanted at this moment was you.

geto’s still got such a large load that’s dumping into you raw and it even oozes down past your thighs, a few creamy droplets plopping down on his velvet seats. he grunts, both twisting tongues ferociously tangling against each other whilst your pussy’s still squeezing down on him like a vice. a glossed translucent ring forms around his base and he feels you trying to touch yourself with two curious fingers.

with a slight smack, he swats your hand away and you whine in his mouth. “heh, hands to yourself,” you pout because earlier he let you touch yourself but now, no. he teases, breaking away from the hot kiss. a stringy cobweb of saliva tears back from both lax plump lips before he playfully nibbles on your chin. geto notices how slumped out you were and a broad open hand of his crawls between your legs. “ooooh,” and he lifts you up from his swollen flaccid cock, gazing at just how much of a fill he’s pumped into you. “well look at that,” and you whimper, feeling him strum a thumb down your drooling cunt. “would be a shame if it all went to waste,” then he quirks a brow, sliding a tongue across his lips. “princess, stick your head out the window for me real quick.”

“out the wind—”

and not even seconds later, you find yourself literally being bent over, halfway hanging out of his rolled down tinted window. geto wasn’t done, at least not yet.

your sheeny glossed lips immediately part into an ‘o’ as a sweet gasp leaves your lips. with clammy hands, they grip onto the edge of his window and you whimper once he delves his long tongue inside of your cunt. your fingers gripped against the window so hard that it ends up leaving dozens of your cute fingerprints against the tinted glass.

“oh my goddd,” you babble out in elongated sweet syllables. with your pretty eyes bulging, you gasp at feeling the tip of his tongue swirl all around inside of you.

geto lowly grunts, lapping his twitching pink muscle down your runny folds back and forth. between your legs—he’s a menace, and it was no prying him off.

at all.

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the simple fact that he’s eating his own cum out of you, unapologetically savoring the bittersweet taste that lands right on his flavored tastebuds. your legs were so weak and you can feel his warm breath continuously fan against and on your sopping folds as he chuckles.

“my my, look at her. this prize’s way better than some money,” he hums, using a leather thumbed glove to swipe down your entrance. he’s slow, dragging it all the way down just to watch spurts of your slick pop onto his digit. you’re just so wet, metallic fingers of his ghost further down your clit before you whine. geto sees your cunt pulsing from the sheer thrill and he snickers, smacking a palm right against your slobbering core. “she’s fuckin’ nasty today, yeah?” and his eyes flicker toward your drooling cunt, giving it a teasing suck. “mmph, listen to her with me, gorgeous,” and one spank against your pussy turns into one, then two, then three.

growing quiet, you listen to the weeping sounds purring out of your own cunt. so loud, so shamelessly loud. you could hear it and he barely even had to touch you. you’re drenching up his seats and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart pound ruthlessly out your chest. his tongue knew just where to go—it’s creating a path of its own, laying flat against your clit before sucking against every tender spot. your legs were on its final hinges. you felt like they were about to snap shut. you’re staring out the window, still not seeing any cars which was good.

if anyone saw you like this, being eaten out in this kind of position, you don’t know what would happen.

geto resumes to flick his long tongue down your swollen slit, lapping up the last few droplets of his own cum that tries to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. another final swat from his mean palm sets against your clit and you let off a cute squeal, your tummy instinctively caving in. “so much back talk from a pussy this fuckin’ sloppy. oughta teach it some manners, pretty girl,” he grumbles, and your eyes blissfully roll back once you hear him starting to sluuuurp.

geto had no shame — it was decided, this was far better than any race he’s ever had.

his teeth nip near the inside corners of your thighs before he trails back to munching on your clit, burying his nose deep. “mhm,” he groans, and it only takes a few seconds before his jaw finally locks. geto reaches down, giving his cock a few solid pumps. his pretty reddened tip was angry, it still had dried spurts of cum racing from the sides and he grunts at the memory of being inside of you only just a few minutes ago. whilst his face’s shoved right between your thighs—you don’t even realize you’re trying to reach back to grab onto his hair. you’re hesitant though, and he finds it cute. departing his wet slick lips briefly, a wry grin spreads against his lips. “kinky,” the dark haired man flicks a tongue across his lips, savoring your juices that smeared against his mouth. “don’t be shy. do it,” and you moan once he teasingly whistles against your pussy, kissing against your nub. “pull my hair girl. pull.”

you give it a good yank and his head pushes forward into you—geto’s lengthy tongue dips further inside your cunt and you whimper, gnawing the inside of your stiff jaw. “fuck,” you gasp, and as his tongue gradually curls various bubbly letters inside of your pussy.

it multitasks, continuing to send your entire body a plethora of fluttering butterflies. he was so sloppy, seeping from the corners of his mouth with your slick and just your slick. his head moving side to side eagerly and every few seconds, he’s got to flick away long shaggy strands of his hair. geto’s proudly devouring you entirely whilst you’re just literally hanging out his window.

“oh, come on. harder, sweetheart. even i can do better than tha—ngh.”

with more force, you tug roughly on his pretty black strands and you heard the most sluttiest moan pour from his lips. god, he was so close that you could literally feel that infamous smug grin spread against his lips. geto brings a fat round thumb to run down your drooling cunt, giving it a ‘good job’ kiss. “atta girl. that’s my girl.”

geto ends up coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of over and over and over again.

he’s mean with his tongue, slurping everything out of you until you had no more - nothing more to coal his chin with. his favorite thing to do was to playfully bite against your clit, feeling you writhe and shiver all because of his mouth.

you end up leaving his entire chin with a pretty stream of your syrupy slick. geto’s panting, falling back after talking you through your nth orgasm, and with a peek through his rear view mirror, he spots the remaining race cars that were finally approaching the finish line.

“ah, about time,” geto rolls his eyes, sliding his lips near the corner of his chin where a bit more of your slick laid.

he acted like it was nothing, like he didn’t just have his tongue shoved inches deep inside of your cunt, stuffing his race gloved fingers in and out of you until you gushed right down his lengthy thick digits. you’re just sat on his lap, and you’re too dumb to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature manly scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.

needy silence was your only reply and he tsks, resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.

geto couldn’t care less though—he had you on his lap and he could already feel himself bulging again.

he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him now.

maybe you were delusional—maybe it was the fangirl in you screaming, begging for more, but your body wasn’t just begging anymore, it ached for more.

he drives you back toward the car meet up spot, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the flaunting vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “t- thank you,” you pant, trying to catch your breath, even still. geto stands up tall and he completely towers over you. you feel so small all of a sudden, watching as he puts his helmet back on.

“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture just as that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a long moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”

your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, awkwardly tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your throat. “yeah, please.”

“such manners like a good girl, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s up and coming races in tokyo. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. geto slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.

geto’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your left tit. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, watching as he marks up the upper part of your chest. “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes, adding a ‘xo’ at the end of his signature. geto puts the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”

he starts walking away before you could even reply and you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y.. yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.

the cool air sets against your skin once more as you stood there with shaky legs. the car meet slowly gets more crowded as the rest of the racers pass the finish line.

but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.

with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of geto’s car before he pulls off.

hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,

his real prize.

[chuluoyi]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑

- xavier x reader

a new friendly colleague has joined your team, but your boyfriend is convinced he is up to no good... and that's why xavier is determined to show it that you are his

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, fluff explicit smut: slightly rough sex, fingering, doggy style, based on xavier's card misty silhouette

note: skxmskcjsf bye don't look at me. this fanart and xavier's card messed me up :') this banner is so unhealthy for me i swear </3

Xavier knew he wasn’t the most patient person.

But even patience, he thought, has limits. And he had been patient and reasonable for a week, to be precise.

It all started ever since that damned new recruit entered his team. He didn't know why, but he kept coming to you for everything—directions, advice, even trivial nonsense like lunch recommendations. It was almost as if on purpose.

This afternoon was no different. Xavier had been looking forward to having lunch with you—just the two of you. You’d promised him, after all.

And yet—

“There was this one time I got trapped inside the N109 Zone—”

“N109 Zone!?”

“Yes!”

“Really?! What did you do then?”

“Hmm, so at first, I was in total panic, but then—”

For the past 15 minutes, your lunch break had been taken over by recounting your tales of valor as a hunter to the new recruit. Nearby, Xavier sat in brooding silence, scathingly sparing him a glance. The slight frown on his face said it all—blatant disinterest and a touch of irritation.

And you too... why are you engaging him so enthusiastically?

Then again, given his age, Xavier knew he had to be mature about this. He tried, really. If it had been someone like Jeremiah, he might have let it slide.

But there was just something about this new recruit—Sean, was it?—that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Whoa, you're so cool, Miss Y/N!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with admiration. “Not only are you pretty and talented, but you're also incredibly skilled! What do you even lack, eh?”

“Really, it's not that much,” you giggled, brushing him off. The way you got sheepish only made Xavier’s annoyance flare even further.

“Let me guess— a boyfriend!”

So that’s what it was. Now Xavier understood what about Sean that set him off. The entire time you’d been talking, he had been giving you those googly eyes.

He didn't like it one bit. He looked ridiculous while doing it.

Despite being silent as a mouse all the way, before he could stop himself, he blurted, “She has a boyfriend already.”

You turned to him in surprise, clearly not expecting him to announce it so bluntly.

“Oh...? Xavier, you know who her boyfriend is...?” Sean turned to him with curiosity.

He noticed it. How his expression fell ever so slightly upon he told him that you were already taken. Xavier huffed and stuffed his mouth with his ramen.

“Yeah. Her boyfriend lives next door.”

Technically, he lived upstairs, but the detail didn’t matter. He just needed to make his point known.

And somehow, for the rest of the day, the new recruit finally seemed to develop some sense—at least enough to stop hovering around you so frequently. Particularly when Xavier was nearby.

“Xavier... why did you tell him that?”

You fell into step beside your quiet boyfriend as the two of you headed home that evening, tilting your head as you replayed the events of the afternoon.

Xavier gave you a brief glance before looking straight ahead again, ignoring your question.

You observed him. There it was again—that gray cloud hovering over him. It always seemed to appear when he was in a bad mood.

Puckering your lips, you pressed further. “We haven’t even told anybody else about our relationship... And what you did there—you’re literally telling him we’re dating.”

“So what?” he shot back, his tone sharper than usual. “Are you afraid people might find out we are? Or—”

Xavier abruptly stopped in his tracks, turning to face you. His usually vibrant blue eyes darkened, piercing into yours with a sharp gleam. “Are you afraid he will find out?”

There was something in his gaze that held you captive—that made your silly heart skip a beat.

“N-no...” you looked away, swallowing the heat that were about to take over your face. Why does Xavier look kind of... hot like that...?

Your cheeks warmed regardless, but you had to appease him. “Like I told you before, I just thought it’d be easier if this stays our little secret. It’s less of a bother if they don’t know…”

Reaching for his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze and flashed him a soft smile. “Besides, why would I be afraid if he knows? My boyfriend is cool, handsome, and the best hunter there is.”

You watched as Xavier's expression softened, the tension melting away. A faint blush crept up his cheeks too, and the gray cloud that had loomed over him finally disappeared. He squeezed your hand in return, looking away as if to hide the way he got bashful.

Adorable. For all his brooding, your boyfriend was surprisingly easy to soothe.

For the rest of the walk back to your apartment, you two remained hand-in-hand, the tension of the afternoon slipping away with each step.

. . .

You were staying over at Xavier's place tonight. After a relaxing bath and a hearty dinner, the two of you found yourselves standing side by side in the kitchen, doing the dishes together.

It was mundane things like this that Xavier considered his favorite routine to do with you. Just as you handed him the last plate to dry, you spoke up, your voice breaking the quiet hum of contentment—

“Xavier, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?”

“I was just thinking... Sean seems nice and friendly, but from what I’ve seen, you seem kind of... unwelcoming— almost hostile even towards him.”

At your words, a frown etched itself onto Xavier’s forehead as he turned to face you fully. You seemed so oblivious, standing there with a look of genuine curiosity.

“Do you really not know?” he questioned you incredulously.

You blinked. “Know what?”

Damn it. Xavier sighed and put down the dish he was holding, but the words faltered on his tongue as a sour expression crossed his face. “No matter,” he muttered under his breath.

He took a deliberate step closer, his movements slow and heavy, and you instinctively backed away—

“So,” he said, his voice low, his blue eyes boring into yours as he took one hot step forward after another, “while Sean is nice and friendly, I’m hostile and unwelcoming, huh?”

—only to find yourself pressed against the window, unable to retreat further.

He stood in front of you now, his arms caging you in, creating a barrier that sealed off any chance of escape.

Uh-oh. Apparently, you had flipped that switch—

The air between you grew thick, and you could feel your pulse quicken under the weight of his gaze. “That’s not what I'm getting at—”

“He’s been eyeing you all day, following you around... getting lunches with you—”

In that moment, your phone erupted to life, its ringtone cutting through the tension. It sat on the small table near the windowsill, and Xavier gave it a quick glance, his expression darkening upon seeing Sean's name flash on the screen.

“Oh?” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes. “He’s now calling you at nights too?”

“No!” you quickly refuted, your words tumbling out almost too fast. “Xavier, don’t get the wrong idea—”

He tilted your jaw to face him, holding your spooked gaze. “Then what idea am I supposed to be getting when he’s so blatantly pursuing you and you don't even do anything about it?”

The plot twist is... you know. Of course you knew it when a guy was trying to make a move on you, you just pretended not to notice it because it was easier that way. You didn’t know which devil had planted this rotten idea in your head that made you want to push Xavier to the edge, just to see how he'd react when he held nothing back—

The call tonight was a coincidence though, but definitely fueled your lover's ire even more. It was a dangerous game, but now that you’d crossed this line, you couldn't go back any longer.

Your lips curled into a bewitching smile then, and your boyfriend was almost mystified. "So, what will you do to me?"

Xavier looked at you with slightly widened eyes, not expecting your boldness at all. But then he grimaced, as at the same time, the irritation in his veins suddenly flared up—

With a swift, fluid motion, he turned you that you faced the window, his right arm wrapping around your waist from behind as he pressed his body against yours—his hardness pressing, almost poking you.

“You’re so clueless,” he growled into your ear before going after your neck, sucking hard and fast. His hips began to grind against you, pressing harder with each movement. “Too damn clueless...!”

His fingers that gripped your belly moved then, slipping inside your frisky nightgown to finger you— and you lost all your wits in that instant. “Ah-h—!”

Two of his fingers pumped in and out of you, dragging them almost rashly, and it took everything in you to stay upright. "X-Xavier!"

“Mmph,” he breathed against the skin of your neck, his other arm pressing you against him tighter, simultaneously squeezing your breasts. "You asked for it."

Your thighs were trembling in no time, and your breaths came in shaky moans. Your boyfriend was not exactly gentle, but this is probably the first time in a while that he was being rough without reservations. While you wanted to protest, it felt too good—

He turned your face towards him then, crashing his lips on yours.

It almost felt like you were punished, but you couldn't do anything about it. The tension in your lower belly was steadily building, ready to snap at any moment, and the way his fingers relentlessly hitting that one unforgivable spot was starting to made you dizzy.

"Ah—ngh!" You finally shuddered when you reached your climax. It was freeing when you felt yourself burst on his fingers, the release smearing your thighs.

And right then your knees buckled—

But Xavier immediately got a secure hold over you, lifting your body effortlessly into his arms, one hand supporting your knees, the other cradling your back. Through your teary eyes, you met his gaze once more. His expression was unreadable, a dark haze of disapproval clouding his features.

“I’m not done yet.”

He brought you over to his bed, gently lying you down despite the roughness of his voice. He parted your legs, getting himself between them—

Ring! Ring!

The shrill sound of your phone pierced the coolness of the room, and you almost jolted.

But your lover... the sound was like a spell to him, only intensifying his irritation as his features twisted with frustration, and you knew that he was about to take it on you.

As if changing his mind, Xavier suddenly flipped you over that you laid on your stomach and straddled you from behind. He quickly turned your head to face him and claimed your lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

“Mm, hmmp—!” The ringtone of your phone blared in the background, a jarring sound that wasn't pleasant at the slightest. It wasn’t until it finally stopped that he pulled away from the kiss.

You were gasping for breath, your chest heaving, and a stray tear slipped from your eyes. Xavier stared at you, and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

Flushed, sweaty, tearful... you looked so enchanting in his eyes in that moment. He almost felt bad that he had manhandled you this roughly.

Almost.

His hands gripped your waist, and he paused, his gaze locked with yours, silently seeking your approval— or more like, commanding you to give it to him.

In response, you arched your back— a silent affirmation, bracing yourself.

From then on, he was no longer holding back. He tugged your panties down and let his throbbing member out of his pants. It was laughable how insatiable he was— both of you were still clothed, save for his unbuttoned shirt, but he was already this aroused and hard.

He nudged forward, his tip breaching your entrance. The feeling of that familiar stretch left you keeling, babbles and whimpers falling from your lips as he slowly eased into you.

It was hard to take him in fully, and you were a mess of breathy gasps the moment you did. But you were in for the main ride when he started ramming into you, pushing in and out of you in a merciless pace.

"Ah... Xavier!" you panted between thrusts, feeling how it started to be too much for you the more he went on. "Ahh, hrah!"

Behind you, Xavier groaned in reply, his lips sucking your shoulder as his hips quickened, striving to bring you to the peak faster. One of his large hands dug into the skin of your stomach, urging your back to arch more, while the other clasped yours, fingers entwined in the sheets.

He watched intently as your face twisted and contorted in ecstasy, a surge of pride swelling within him, greater than he thought possible.

It was mind-blowing, slightly forceful, and your senses were all heightened. The harsh pace drew cries from your lips, your tears falling to the sheets, yet the pleasure also catapulted you into the stars—

The sinful delight of having him so deep within you.

The sinful rapture of being thrusted over and over.

“Ahhh!” And then, all at once, it was as if heaven and hell collided in a cataclysmic burst. Everything inside you shattered as you cried out—a scream morphing into a high-pitched gasp—as the two of you reached the climax together. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your walls clasped around him impossibly tight as Xavier filled you with everything that he had in one shot.

You collapsed against the sheets like a ragdoll, the pressure finally easing from your sore spine.

“Hello? Yes, it’s Xavier...”

The morning after. You stirred awake, your mind still foggy with sleep, as muffled voices filtered in from outside the bedroom.

“I have to take an urgent leave today...”

You were still utterly drained, your body heavy and unwilling to move. Instinctively, your hand reached out to your side, searching for your lover, but the spot was empty.

“Yes. Y/N too. She isn’t well today... We will be back tomorrow...”

You let out a soft, tired whine, your voice plaintive, as you lay sprawled across the bed, wishing for his warmth to return. Honestly, everything was still sore, and you were this close to tears again.

The door then opened with a creak not long after, and you let out a whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Are you awake...?” Xavier's voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he stepped closer to the bed.

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry. He was already dressed, his crisp appearance in stark contrast to your disheveled state. In his hand, he held a small plastic bag.

“What’s that...?” you mumbled, your voice hoarse as you struggled to prop yourself up, curiosity flickering through your tired gaze.

“Don’t get up too quickly,” Xavier murmured, his hands steady as he caught you mid-movement. He guided you back down and tucked the blankets snugly around you, his touch gentle yet firm. “Just rest for now.”

A low hum of contentment escaped you as you leaned into his touch. Your bleary eyes focused solely on him, and despite himself, Xavier found a smile tugging at his lips.

“I just went to the drugstore downstairs to get you some painkillers,” he explained, lifting the small plastic bag slightly. “Take them after you’ve had some breakfast later.”

He then fixed you a bashful grimace, looking down. “Sorry for... uh, last night... I think I’ve pushed you too far.”

His fingers reached out, brushing gently against your cheek. The same fingers that had driven you to the brink of madness the night before now so tender against your skin. “You were crying,” he murmured, guilt lacing his voice. “I feel bad.”

“Mm-hm, so that’s what happens when you don’t hold back at all,” you snickered softly, the corners of your mouth curving despite the lingering ache in your body.

Xavier shifted his gaze away, his confidence faltering. “Will you... hate me for it?”

It was hard to contain your smile from breaking out into a grin. Your boyfriend, a ferocious wolf in a sheep’s clothing, had no need for this shy charade when he had railed you that hard last night.

“No, but you’re going to have to make it up to me. I can’t even walk now.”

Xavier blinked before he patted your head. “Yeah, I’ll fulfill any of your wishes,” he sighed in relief, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice. “So, what is it?”

You paused for a moment, then with a mischievous glint in your eye, you said, “Take me to the bathroom? I want to have a shower first.”

And, of course, he obliged. With a effortless motion, Xavier scooped you up into a princess carry, holding you close. His arms cradled you with care, and you rested against his chest, the warmth of his embrace offering a sense of security.

Just like that, you spent the rest of the day as lovers, sleeping in with careless abandon, unburdened by your duties.

Epilogue

Later in the afternoon, you were once again deep in a sleep as Xavier cuddled you close, when suddenly the doorbell of his apartment rang incessantly.

Frowning, Xavier carefully eased himself out of bed, making sure not to disturb your slumber. He moved quietly towards the door, and when he saw the intercom, his frown worsened.

Sean, the newbie, was at his doorstep. He had half a mind to ignore him, but after a beat, he decided to open the door.

“What do you want?” his voice sharp with annoyance.

“Oh, Xavier!” The guy was stunned for a moment as his eyes lingered on Xavier’s chiseled abs, exposed through the his unbuttoned shirt. “O-oh, so... I’ve been trying to ring the doorbell to Y/N's apartment to give her a fruit basket to wish her a fast recovery, but she’s not answering—” he hastily explained, gesturing toward the basket in his hand. “Can you reach her—?”

Xavier felt like popping a vein at how meddlesome this guy was. Was this guy an idiot? Didn’t he realize by now that he was your next-door boyfriend?

Nevermind. The hard way it is.

“She’s with me.”

“H-huh?”

He shot him a pointed look. “Don't think you’ll have a chance with her, newbie.”

And with that, he shut the door in his face.

[lolab4t]

off duty - fluff

18 + part two

pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x fem!avenger!younger!reader summary: after a rare night off, you stumble back into avengers tower at 2 am.. tipsy, feet hurting, and definitely not expecting to run into bucky barnes on the couch. word count: 5.8k warning(s): light cursing, alcohol consumption/intoxication, fluff, use of nicknames, humor, age gap, mild suggestive language, reader is a young adult avenger, reader is described as wanting to party a/n: here's my first fic! it's a throwback to the avengers before the infinity war. i really hope you enjoy :) and if you do, please like, comment, or reblog! <3

cherry - lana del rey

being a young adult and an avenger at the same time wasn't easy. you wanted to be like others your age... party, stay out late, maybe dance with a random guy you found mildly attractive under the dim nightclub lighting, then bolt when you actually saw his face in the light. hell, you would settle for just shopping or grabbing lunch with your friends, however mundane that sounded.

but, as a full-time avenger, you weren't privy to this lifestyle. the main issue was your schedule. being an avenger isn't exactly a 9–5 job... it's more 24/7. you're meant to always be ready to jump into a mission when needed. with your time mainly consisting of training, meetings, and missions, you didn't exactly have free time.

this didn't stop your friends from pushing, though, and they eventually got through. so, after a few long conversations of begging stark, here you are, stumbling into the elevator of the avengers tower at like 2 in the morning, ever so slightly intoxicated. who can blame you? it was your first night off in a while; of course you took advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and got shitfaced. you might regret it during training later that day, but for now, all that mattered was that you had fun with your friends.

you did regret wearing heels, though. you wanted to trade in your boots for something more fun tonight, but god, did your feet hurt. you were also dying to get out of your minidress. considering your wardrobe now reflects your job and only consists of suits and very little casual clothes, you had to borrow this dress from your friend. you were beginning to remember why you never liked to wear dresses even before joining the avengers.

the elevator dinged, and the door opened to the top floor, the avengers' quarters. you dragged yourself out, hair messy, dress slightly hiked up, and feet already blistering. your makeup made it clear you had been sweating on a dancefloor not long ago. you headed to your room when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"where ya been?"

you turned to the source, shocked to see bucky barnes sitting on the sofa. he was laid back, one arm draped lazily on the backrest, and the other on his knee. he was almost smirking, likely having a good idea of your whereabouts based on your appearance.

you and the winter soldier weren't exactly close. he was a very quiet and reserved guy, usually a man of few words. your interactions mainly consisted of short conversation and sometimes catching him staring at you on the quinjet or in meetings. you never really thought much of it.

but his tone... his expression right now was different. it was weird, but a good weird.

"why're you awake?" you huffed, walking toward the couch.

"couldn't sleep," he stated simply, scanning your form with that smug look on his face. "you have a fun night?" he chuckled to himself a bit.

"yeah, i went out with some friends," you replied, sitting on the couch. you began fiddling with your heels, wanting to go ahead and relieve yourself of the pain. however, the alcohol was messing with your coordination, and you were struggling rather pathetically.

noticing the pout forming on your lips and the clear trouble you were having, bucky snickered, speaking in his gruff voice, "need some help?"

you looked up at him and nodded, still pouting. without a word, he moved a bit closer to you and curled his fingers around your ankles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he rested them across his lap. you were reclining into the corner of the sofa now, watching him in shock. he hummed as his fingers slipped through the straps of the heels, sliding them off your feet gently. he set them down carefully, his free hand absentmindedly rubbing your calves.

"i've never seen you in anything but your boots," he grinned, turning his head toward you. "so, how much did you drink?" his grin turned into a knowing smirk.

you scoffed, pulling your legs away, drawing your knees to your chest. the short dress wasn’t doing you any favors, and you were probably flashing him, but bucky never looked. he was a gentleman... at least in the ways that mattered. you groaned, rubbing your face sleepily. no point in pretending.

"too much," you muttered.

"yeah, i can tell. you practically stumbled out of the elevator," he chuckled, eyes following your every move.

you let out a half-laugh, sheepish. your head dropped to rest on your knee as you sighed.

"kill me."

"not tonight, doll. i’m off duty."

your head lifted slightly, an eyebrow raising. "did you just call me ‘doll’?" you snickered at the old-fashioned nickname, trying to hide how much it made your heart beat faster.

he smirked, leaning back again with that maddening ease. "i dunno. you kinda look like one."

was he flirting? surely not. he probably saw you as some annoying kid.

"alright, old man. what do you call natasha then? sugar? darling?" you smiled lazily, thinking of more old-timey terms of endearment.

"hell no. she’d break my jaw," he grinned.

"and you think i won’t break your jaw?" you smirked, raising a brow.

bucky scoffed out a laugh. "oh, i'm sure you can, but i don't think you would."

"if i wasn't tipsy, i might've. you're getting off easy this time, grandpa," you giggled, starting to slur your words. your eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, and you found your head resting on your knee again.

bucky laughed at your slurred speech, not sure if it was the alcohol or just exhaustion. "you okay, doll?"

"mhm," you hummed, obviously dozing off.

"alright, i guess i'll babysit the lightweight," he joked, his grin never faltering.

you eventually drifted off, and so did bucky not long after. you both slept better than you had in a while. that was, until you awoke to the stunned faces of the other avengers. they definitely weren't expecting to find you in bucky's arms on the sofa. hell, you weren't expecting it either.

thanks so much for reading <3

18+ part two

[mssorceressupreme]

Hate and Love | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: in the mission of transporting Harry safely to the Burrow, you and Fred get thrown off-track as his broom breaks, resulting in an overnight detour at a hotel.

Warnings/content: minors DNI 18+, halfblood!reader, One Bed Trope, enemies to lovers, boner!alert, oral!freceiving, p in v, grumpy x sunshine (if u squint), raw penetration (wrap it plz), cumming inside, orgasm denial, fluffy ending, fighting death eaters, dom!fred, sub!reader

Wordcount: 5.8k

———

You stood near the wall, arms crossed, in the house of number four Privet Drive, the place where it all began for one of your closest friends, Harry Potter. The group of you were gathered in the empty living room, discussing the highly dangerous plan of transporting Harry safely to the Burrow.

Beside you stood the twins, listening intently as Mad-Eye Moody instructed orders.

Seven of them had just taken polyjuice potion, resulting in seven 'Harry's', all in accordance with Moody's plan.

“Right then, we’ll be pairing off. Each ‘Potter’ will have a protector and to make it simpler for you, I'll choose the pairs.” His mismatched eyes scanned the group, assigning pairs, and an aggravating pit settled in your stomach once Moody called out your name, “Y/N, you're with Fred.”

Your head snapped toward Fred, who groaned audibly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He muttered, but George nudged him softly, urging him to be tolerable while they changed out of their regular clothes.

“Yeah yeah, happy to be paired up with you too.” you rolled your eyes, the sarcasm in your tone apparent.

Fred and you had never gotten along. Since your days at Hogwarts, the two of you had been like oil and water—always at odds. He thought you were too uptight, too rule-abiding, while you found him utterly insufferable, reckless, and far too smug for his own good.

But for Harry, you’d endure today. He'd done a great deal to help you throughout your years at Hogwarts, so it was only fair of you to return the favour.

“Head for the Burrows, we’ll rendezvous there!” Moody finished. The room stirred with movement as everyone prepared for what was to come.

Outside, the night air was cool as you mounted Fred’s broom behind him. The scent of his cologne, something warm and woodsy, hit your nose, and you hated that you thought it smelled decent, inhaling a bit more. You hesitated for a moment before wrapping your arms around his waist, well, 'Harry's' waist.

Fred stiffened slightly at your touch, “Don’t get too comfortable back there.”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t.”

Before you could snap back another remark, he kicked off into the sky, soaring above London, splitting up from the others.

Everything was eerily silent for a few moments. The flight seemed too smooth for your liking. You kept an alert eye, constantly scanning your surroundings.

You caught a shadow in the corner of your eye, and you whipped your head around, squinting your eyes at the figure in the dark.

"What the..." You muttered.

"Fred go faster...." You ordered, losing sight of the shadowy figure.

"Why don't you come fly the broom then." He retorted, clearly annoyed.

"Fred! I"m serious!" You yelled, gripping his waist tighter, as he exhaled before picking up the pace.

"In case you forgot, I need to be able to breathe to fly this thing properly." He grunted as you practically squeezed every breath out of him.

"Right, sorry," You loosened your grip ever so slightly, "...it's just, I swear I saw something."

You turned around again, catching a glimpse of a shadowy figure. The shadow was no longer a mystery figure but a person, or, three people rather.

Death Eaters.

"Oh shit! Fred! They're here!" You took your wand out and began fighting with them.

Spells shot through the night, streaks of green and blue illuminating the sky like a twisted fireworks display. The death eaters had appeared out of nowhere, zooming in, attacking viciously as they trailed behind you on their brooms.

“They’re following us!” you shouted over the wind, turning back around to gauge Fred.

“Oh, really? Thought we were just out for a lovely evening flight,” he shot back sarcastically, dodging a hex just in time.

You rolled your eyes but focused on firing spells behind you, hitting one death eater square in the chest and sending him spiralling downward.

"Stupefy!" You shouted, casting the second death eater off his broom. Two down, one to go.

Just as you felt a moment of victory, another spell whizzed past, striking the broom.

The wood splintered with a sickening crack. "Uhh, Fred?" You called out, glancing at the broom.

“Hold on—” Fred barely got the words out before the broom snapped completely, and the two of you plummeted toward the Thames River.

You hit the water hard, the impact knocking the wind out of you. You kicked frantically, breaking the surface and gasping for air. The coolness of the water had your body in shock, shivering as you forced yourself to stay afloat.

Fred emerged a second later, coughing.

Glancing above, you saw the third death eater laughing maliciously as he flew off, leaving you and Fred. He must've figured it wasn't the real Harry, given that you called him 'Fred'.

“Great! Look what you’ve done!” you accused, treading water furiously.

“What I’ve done?! That was you—you were supposed to be fighting them off!” he retorted, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. He had transformed back into his original self, the fiery redhead Fred you knew.

You groaned, swimming toward the embankment where a set of stone stairs led to dry land. Your fingers were frozen as you pulled yourself up, collapsing onto the pavement. Fred followed, shaking out his drenched hair like a dog.

“Brilliant. Just brilliant,” you muttered, clutching one-half of the broken broom while he had the other. “Now how are we supposed to get to the others?”

Fred sighed, pushing his hair back. “Let’s just go somewhere dry first.”

You nodded begrudgingly, too cold and exhausted to argue.

When you emerged from the river, it was given that pedestrians would stare at the two of you strangely. Swimming in the Thames River wasn't exactly the most normal thing to do, let alone at this hour.

Though, in this particular instance, more of them were starring at you, rather than Fred.

Fred cleared his throat, eyes darting down to your chest then back up before averting his eyes immediately.

You furrowed your brows, glancing down, only to remember that you were wearing a white shirt along with the worst possible undergarment to pair with it, a black bra.

You felt your cheeks heat up, as you covered your chest, "Let's just go..."

Fred shook his head, taking off the grey jacket he wore and putting it over you, "Here."

Though still wet, it offered the coverage you much needed and you were entirely grateful. "Thanks." You muttered softly, as you two began walking.

"Figured you wouldn't want to walk around flashing the whole of London."

The two of you walked in silence as you tried to figure out a way to get to the others. “We can apparate—” he started.

“Absolutely not. There are muggles everywhere,” you snapped, nodding to the late-night pedestrians strolling along the streets.

Fred scoffed, shooting you an eye-roll. “Alright, Professor McGonagall.”

You ignored him, scanning the area. A small, dingy-looking hotel caught your eye. Without another word, you trudged toward it, Fred trailing behind. The receptionist, a bored-looking woman in her mid 40s, barely glanced up as you approached the desk.

The hotel looked cheap enough for an overnight stay. All you needed to do was clear your mind and get a good night's rest before figuring things out in the morning; yes, that sounded ideal to you right this moment.

“Two rooms, please,” you said firmly.

She tapped at the keyboard, chewing on some gum as she did so. “We’re fully booked.”

Your heart sank. “What about one room? With two beds?”

"Sorry, we're full." She continued typing, then clicking on the mouse as she looked around the screen, "It's peak season honey, we're always maxed out."

"Please you've got to have at least one room, with two beds, anything?" You pleaded, desperate for whatever you could acquire.

"We'll take whatever we can get, you've got to have something." Fred added, backing you up as he stood closer to you.

She checked again, then looked at you, eyes lighting up. “Ah, it seems that we do have one left with two beds, but the heating is broken, that's why we didn't offer it to customers. Actually, I was supposed to call the maintenance guy, but he's my ex, you see, so it's a bit of a rough story. I always thought he loved me, you know, how could someone not, I mean look at me? I'm gorgeous. He was supposed to come by today but we—”

"We'll take it!" Fred interjected swiftly, clearly exhausted. "Thank you."

Relief flooded you as you he paid with muggle money. You were surprised he even had some on hand, but after all, he was a businessman.

"Interesting, all this muggle stuff eh?" Fred mused, as you both entered the lift, his eyes darting around as he observed his surroundings.

"I suppose so, yeah. I guess I was lucky enough to be born a half-blood, you get the best of both worlds." You shrugged, as though hotels and 'muggle elevators' were the most natural thing in the world.

"Alright then, you lead the way, Ms expert." He mocked, gesturing for you to lead the way once the doors opened.

You scoff softly, marching down the hallway before finding your room number. Fred reaches seconds after you, looping his arm around your body to swipe the keycard.

He placed an arm on the door to open it, letting you in first before closing it after he entered.

But the moment you entered the room, your jaw dropped.

One bed.

“What? She said there were two beds.” You blinked, looking around the room in confusion.

“She must’ve meant the couch,” Fred said, nodding toward the small, lumpy-looking couch a few inches beside the bed, by the window.

You swallowed, “Right, well, who's sleeping where?” Honestly, at this point, you didn't even mind taking the couch, as long as you could get some rest.

Fred's eyes darted from the bed to the couch, exhaling exasperatedly before finally looking at you, "I'll take the couch."

"I didn't know Fred Weasley had manners?" You gasped, faking your amusement.

He shot you a glare, grabbing a towel as he did so, "Could you be any more aggravating?"

You tried to think of a witty comeback, something, anything to get a reaction out of him. But alas, you were lost for words. He did have a point though.

Come to think about it, you realised that you might've only been behaving this way because you were not used to him being so much of a...gentleman. This was foreign to you.

"I'll have the first shower." He shifts past you, nudging your shoulder, which sends heat through your bodies temporarily.

“Be my guest.”

You hear the lock shut, and seconds later, the water starts running.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you took in your surroundings. This was no five-star hotel, but it was presentable and decent enough for an overnight stay. The walls are dark grey, with ambient lighting all around the room. Navy blue sheets grace the double bed, with a soft brown leather footer in contrast. There is a tea tray and a kettle, on top of the dark brown desk that sat in the corner of the room.

Minutes later, the door clicks and unlocks.

Fred steps out, a white towel hanging around his waist. His hair is wet, and his body glistening with water droplets. Your eyes couldn't help but drift down, his body was incredible defined, a stark contrast to your school days when he was merely a boy, now, he was a man.

Oh, he definitely works out. You noticed his arms, much larger and buffer than they used to be.

"All yours." He jerked his chin to the bathroom.

You gulped, brushing past him before hurriedly entering the bathroom and locking the door.

Wow, since when did Fred Weasley get so, attractive?

The hot water was a blessing, washing away the cold. You stood under the steamy shower for a couple of minutes, taking in as much warmth as you could.

With no new clothes to change into, you wrapped yourself in the plush hotel bathrobe, sighing in frustration. It appears there was only a kids sized one left, and you had no choice but to wear it. Whatever, it’ll do the job for tonight.

You hung your wet clothes on one of the bathroom racks, and you saw that Fred did the same, you placed your clothes beside his.

You were humming to yourself when you stepped out, relieved to be in some dry clothes, dancing a little as you strolled to the bed.

When he heard you walking, Fred glanced up, something flickering in his expression, though you're not quite sure what.

“That bathrobe is way too small for you." He remarks, laying with his legs out on the couch, two arms behind his head as he rests.

"What was I supposed to do, wear my wet clothes to sleep?" You respond as you hop into bed, tugging the covers and snuggling in.

"It could be an enlightening experience." He hummed, as he shut his eyes, adjusting himself on the couch.

"You try it then." You counter, scoffing at his idiocy.

The curtains are drawn, and the lights are dim. Silence fills the room as you both unwind for the evening. Before you shut the lights from the switch beside your bed, you call out, "I'm going to off the lights now, need anything before I turn them off?"

"Yeah actually..." He perks his head up, turning to face you.

"What?" You ask, listening keenly.

"For you to be quiet." A small smile played on his lips as he laid back down.

You rolled your eyes, before hitting the lights.

"Good night." He cooed.

You lay there, tossing and turning, but you couldn't seem to fall asleep for the life of you. It didn't help that the room was so cold, due to the heater being unfixed.

Minutes passed in silence before you turned your head slightly. Fred was stretched out on the tiny couch, his long legs dangling uncomfortably over the armrest.

It was evident that he was way too tall to fit on all that, he did not look the slightest bit comfortable.

“See something you like?” Fred smirked, feeling your stare though his eyes were shut.

“What? No! I was just—”

“Just what? Admiring this handsome face?”

"Honestly Fred, how conceited are you?" You sat up now, shooting daggers at him. As much as you hated to admit it, he was, in fact, handsome. Annoyingly so.

Truth be told, had he not been so irritating, you might've actually considered dating him.

You loved the Weasleys, Ginny was like a sister to you, Ron, your close friend, George, always on the lookout for you. He even took you down to Hogsmeade for a meal and bought you treats when you cried over one of the Slytherin boys rejecting you back in your fourth year.

But Fred, oh Fred, you could never see eye to eye with him. You only ever tolerated him because his family was so warm and welcoming.

A tiny part of you felt guilty that he was forced onto the couch, despite being the one that paid for the room.

You wanted to offer the place beside you to him, seeing that the bed was larger than anticipated once you were actually tucked in.

"Well you are staring, something you need?" He countered, his eyes are still shut, arms still behind his head.

"Well, I was thinking...." You hesitated, "well, you could sleep on the bed. It's actually more spacious than I thought."

His brows shot up, and he opened his eyes, turning to face you. “In the bed? With you?”

“Don’t make it weird, Fred,” you huffed. “The couch looks uncomfortable.”

"Are you, being nice to me?" He teased, the urge to take back your offer growing stronger.

"Don't make me change my mind, Weasley."

After a beat, he groaned. “Fine. But don’t hog the covers.”

"Please I sleep like a log, it's not like I'm going to cuddle you or anything."

"Cuddle me eh?" He mused.

"Not bloody likely, besides you're too annoying to be my type." You retort.

Fred stood up, walking to the other side of the bed. He slid in beside you, and the bed suddenly felt too small. You kept your back to him, but quickly got up and put one of the spare pillows between you.

"See this line? Don't cross it and you're good." You commanded, and he chuckled lightly,

"Alright alright." He raised in hands.

You turned away from him, back to him as you attempted to fall asleep. You hadn't realised how far you were from him, you were practically tipping over the edge of the bed.

You scooted inside a little, bumping into the pillow wall you put.

After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, you sighed in defeat. The room was cold, and the blankets were not much help.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were the only one awake. You extended your arm behind you, trying to find the pillow 'wall' you had put up. But with all the tossing and turning from the two of you, the pillow must've slipped out of place and down the lower half of the bed somewhere.

As you extended your arm behind you, you accidentally came into contact with Fred's back, and he shifted slightly before turning to face you instead.

It's dark, almost pitch black, but with the small glimmer of light, you can see that his eyes are shut. Curious you called out, "Fred?" you whispered. "Are you awake?"

"I am now, no thanks to you." He fluttered his eyes open, facing you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wanted to see if—"

"Don't be." He sighed, "Couldn't sleep a wink either. This room is bloody cold."

"The blankets aren't doing anything." You exhaled, agreeing, before an idea popped into you head.

"This might sound silly, but, if we revert back to old fashioned methods, we could, um—actually it's stupid, nevermind." You began, but quickly dismissed it.

"Go on, I'd like to hear what genius solution you've come up with."

"It's dumb, I don't think you'll like it."

"Try me." He replied.

You hesitated again before suggesting, “We could—uh—use body heat.”

He stared at you momentarily, it looked as though he thought about it, considering it before responding, “Absolutely not.”

"Okay, whatever, I just thought it was a feasible option. These robes aren't exactly pyjama material either." You say, trying to tighten your robes, with the hopes of warming up your body.

You both fell into silence again your back facing him once more, before Fred spoke up, "Come here."

"What?" You turned around.

"I suppose, we could try the body heat thing."

"Oh so now you want to try my idea?" You raise your brow, scoffing as you shift over slowly, and he extended his arm, pulling you in.

"Don't get any ideas, I just need to sleep and call it a day." You firmly spoke, pressing your back to him, as he faced you. You felt his heat, no doubt, it was working, and you were starting to warm up. In all the places apparently, your cheeks, and an area of yours down there. Your heart pounded as his hand rested against your back, his breath tickling your ear.

"Let's do shoulder-to-shoulder." You suggested, trying to hide your flustered-ness.

He didn't argue, respecting your decision. The two of you lay there, facing the ceiling as your shoulders touched. Though not as warm as before, it was still warmer at least.

You turned your head, Fred's face illuminated by the dim light coming through from the curtains, his jawline ever so chiselled. Merlin, he was undoubtedly a handsome chap. You shut your eyes, trying, yet again to enter a slumber.

As you laid there, eyes shut, Fred opened his, gauging you. He smiled softly as he took in your features, rolling his eyes fondly as he saw you breathing slowly.

You swore you were about to cast some sort of sleeping spell, because you still could not fall asleep for the life of you. You keep moving, accidentally brushing against Fred's body countless times but you couldn't help it, you needed to find a comfortable position.

You move your arm around the blanket, trying to find a comfortable position for yourself until you accidentally graze something, unexpected.

You freeze.

Did you actually just graze that?

Was he....?

You slowly turned to face him, your body merely an inch away from his. You see him shut his eyes, heavily breathing, his Adam's apple bopping up and down from swallowing hard.

"Would you quit moving so much?" He whispered, trying to contain himself.

"I....Fred, I didn't mean to." You pause. "You're still awake?"

"10 points to Y/H (your house), captain obvious."

You furrow your brows, turning on the bedside lamp which offered the tiniest bit of ambient light in the dark room.

Your gaze flickered down, and well, you saw, a little friend poking up from the sheets beneath him.

"Is that, because of m—" You swallowed not daring to finish the sentence, looking at his hard on. "I'm sorry shouldn't have moved so much."

"Alright, it's okay, it's not a big deal, so what it's normal right. I didn't mean to accidentally keep grazing or grinding on you, I was merely trying to find a comfortable position. Listen, I'm not weirded out or anything, you can go sort it out. Who am I to judge? This time tomorrow we'll all be at the burrow and I'll be sharing a room with Ginny and 'Mione, so it's fine, we can—" You began ranting out of nervousness, but Fred had enough, opening his eyes to sit up with you,

"Merlin, Y/N. Ranting like you're so innocent, moving around like that? On me?" He leans in closer, growling, "I bet you'd really want to know what got me provoked in the first place, yeah?"

You gulped, inspecting his features as he leaned in closer to you, now an inch apart, "You aggravate me, pushing my damn buttons all the bloody time. Maybe if you weren't such a whiny brat complaining about everything, I would've fucked you an hour ago till you were silenced.” He ranted before continuing,

“You want to know what got me so hard? You waltzing around in those darn bathrobes that are far too small, exposing every inch of your body, your cleavage is practically begging to be seen. I can't keep my fucking eyes off you. Ever since Hogwarts, it was always you, grating on my last nerves. I thought I hated you so, until I realised that there was a fine line between hate and attraction."

"Fred..." your eyelids flutter; how did his voice get so low and sensual? You could feel yourself throbbing, growing wetter by the minute, and you found yourself growing more needy for him.

"Bloody hell Y/N, you've got me wrapped around the irritating finger of yours."

"Just shut up and kiss me Fred." You breathlessly whisper, not realising that you'd been holding your breath the entire time.

After waiting for what seemed like forever, he wasted no time pouncing on you. His hand is behind your neck and he pushes you down onto the bed, hovering on top of you.

Fred's lips meet yours furiously, desperately, never in your life has someone kissed you this passionately before. You open your mouth, and he slides his tongue in, a desirous clash of tongues. He savours every inch of your mouth and it makes you wonder how long he's been wanting to do this for.

"May I?" He asks for permission as he tugs at the belt of your bathrobe.

You nod, too breathless to speak as you gaze up at him. Fred undoes your robes, leaving you clothe-less on the bed. He does the same, kneeling between your legs which are spread open and on either side of his waist. You subconsciously give him doe-eyes as he does so, merlin, he looked so deliciously attractive.

"So fucking beautiful, all this hidden from me all these years?" He leans down and gently kisses your neck while gripping your waist, sucking on a sensitive spot which earns a moan from you.

"Going to leave hickey's on you so everyone knows you're mine gorgeous."

"Who said I was yours?" Every so daring you retort, though you lacked conviction.

He chuckled lowly before sucking on another sensitive spot, leaving a reddish mark on you, "Fred..." you moan again. His kisses grow more wet and fervent as he plants kisses trailing down your body. His hands move from your waist to your breasts, massaging them gently as he continues further down your body.

You're barely able to control the obscene moans slipping from your mouth, any attempts at suppressing them growing more difficult by the second. You didn't even care that people around you might hear.

"You're soaking wet, and yet you say you're not mine." Fred cooed, his eyes glued to your heat, coated with glistening wetness.

You revel in the fact that he can barely take his eyes off you, you glance at him, eyes half-lidded, clouded with lust. Once he catches sight of your lustful eyes, desperate for him, he can't tear his gaze away from you. He slowly leans down, sensually licking your coated slick.

Your sensitive cunt throbs even harder upon the contact from his tongue, "Fred please..." You whine, throwing your head back onto the pillow.

He traces the shape of your vulva, pressing kitten licks on your needy clit, causing your legs to clamp around his head. He doesn't break eye-contact, as he continues to work his mouth around your core.

He continues sucking your clit, his tongue working his way on your swollen pearl.

You tangle your hands in his head, tugging lightly. Your body can't help but arch into his face due to the overwhelming pleasure, as he continues indulging in your cunt. "Merlin Fred!" You cry out as he suckles on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You taste so damn good love, so sweet unlike that bitter mouth, hm?"

"I'm yours Fred....all yours..." You whimper, succumbing to his words.

"Say that again." His voice low, commanding, you could feel the heat from his mouth near your throbbing cunt.

"I'm yours, Fred." You moan, as he continues straight into your core.

The feeling is heavenly, both hands tangled in his red locks as he gives you the most pleasant head you've ever felt in your life. Once he stops assaulting your clit, he lifts his head and faces you, his eyes smiling up at you, as though you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

Oh, you're so close, tilting over the edge of something mind-blowing. He leans down and gives your clit a few more kitten licks, planting soft kisses before pulling away, just as you were about to cum.

"Don't stop," you whimper, "I was so close...."

"Fred?" You plead, again, but he sits up and crawls to you, now hovering over you his hands on either side of your head. "Please let me cum...."

"You will, darling." He cooes, leaning down to your ear, "Around my cock."

You felt yourself throbbing yet again, upon his words. What the hell was he doing to you, causing you to feel this weak beneath him? This powerless? Your sharp, witty tongue, nowhere in sight.

"Please Fred, I need you." You whine, begging him for more.

"What ever happened to, 'I despise you'?" He hovered over you and you sat up, meeting his lips. Giving him a passionate, hungry kiss before pulling away,

"There is a fine line between hate and love, and I think today I've learnt that you've been sitting in the wrong category all along."

He smiled, brushing a hand on your cheek as he gazed down at you lovingly, "Took me so long to realise that you're the only person I've ever felt something with."

"Took us bloody ages." You roll your eyes fondly, before giggling as he pecked your forehead gently.

You gazed up at him with doe-eyes, and him down at you, to your lips then back up, his mouth parted slightly as he took in how breathtaking you looked beneath him. Shit, you were always beautiful to him, he'd only now realised.

"Need you inside me Fred." You plead softly, desperately, which only fuelled his desire for you even more.

"Anything for you, love."

You never thought you'd admit it, but he has a fucking incredible dick. You assumed he'd be packing because he was 6"3, but the sight of it made you drool. Bloody hell, he had every right to be so smug.

His slit was already leaking with precum, his eyes lock onto yours as he lowers himself. Your legs are still on each side of his waist, he grabs his dick and teases it along your wet entrance, sliding it a few times to coat it with your slickness.

You involuntarily buck your hips, desperate for penetration as you whimper. He slowly lowers himself down, and finally into you.

At first, you hiss at the pain upon being stretched out by his hugeness, you could feel him stretching your walls, registering that fact that he was fully inside you now.

"Fuck...." he moans, letting out a groan, "So tight for me hm?"

"Freddie...." You moan as he begins moving, rocking his hips slowly. You get used to the size of him, filling you to the brim, every slight bit of movement causing your walls to tense around his dick, rubbing within you sensually.

"I know baby, I know." He responds softly, continuing at this pace.

With every rock, his breathing increases, your soft pleas and his eager pants filling the room as he speeds up, going faster and harder.

Your moans start to get louder, getting more deafening by the minute. Fred leans down to plant kisses on your neck, and pecking your lips occasionally, you moan into him as he drives himself further into your core.

"You're doing so well baby." He coos into your ear, murmuring praises as he continues to thrust into you.

Fred doesn't stop pounding into you, you move your hands to his back, your nails practically digging into his skin from the pleasure.

Skin slapping against skin, you feel every jolt of his body into you. He's fucking you so gently but hard at the same time, treating you as though you were the most fragile thing on the planet.

"Baby..." You whimper, eyes fluttering shut, as he continues thrusting into you deeply, you are overwhelmed with so much pressure that you might cry, but it just felt so damn pleasurable.

"I'm getting close Fred." You pant, breathing heavily, as he picks up his pace.

"Look at me." He demands, and you open your eyes, gazing into his hazel ones. For once, they aren't filled with irritation, or the usual annoyance you were used to seeing, they were more gentle, admiring you, it was a look of love.

"Fred, I'm so close!" You cry out, feeling an orgasm coming closer, "I'm gonna—" you can barely finish your sentence, the pressure. on your g-spot and the intense penetration becoming too much for you to handle, along with the gaze of hazel eyes burning into you.

You let out an obscene moan as your walls clench around him, you jerk harshly, causing him to let out a guttural moan. It's a pleasurable ache, your entire body pulses beneath him.

"Gonna come inside you baby, that okay?" He asks, and you nod, to breathless to speak.

Seconds later, he comes undone, squirting his juices inside you. The world slows down as you enter your state of euphoria; you're entangled in pure bliss as you come down from your high. Your body is still electrified from the feeling before.

It takes a while for you to fully settle down. You slowly flutter your eyes open to find yourself engulfed in Fred's buff arms, your breathing in sync. The two of you lean against the wooden bed-frame, and you lean your head on his shoulder, while he cradles you.

You glance down at your body and notice that it's covered in marks, which looked bloody hot. Merlin, you really were Fred's now huh?

"So much for body heat." You chuckled softly, as he stroked your back gently.

He laughs, and you feel the vibrations of his chest, "The best kind of heat if you ask me." He says which earned an eyeroll from you.

Fred plants a soft kiss on your head, "Y'know I'm not one for apologies, but I was a bit of a jerk to you back in Hogwarts, and I want to apologise."

"It was a two-way thing, Freddie, suppose I should apologise for being one too. Merlin, you did grate on every last one of my nerves though." You tease.

"Always a pleasure." He grinned down at you, engulfed in his arms as you looked up at him, sharing a moment of sweet silence as you put the past behind you.

A ray of moonlight shone through the tiny gap in the curtain. You turned your head, glancing out the window as you pondered about the others back at the burrow.

"What're we going to tell the others when we find them tomorrow?" You giggled, taking in the state you were both in.

"I have a feeling they won't be surprised." Fred confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone in my family thinks we have a thing for each other, especially Ginny. Won't stop talking about us that sister of mine."

"Since when?!" You were amused, the two of you were the epitome of the word hate back in Hogwarts and to hear a statement like this shocked you.

"Since school apparently." He laughed, shaking his head, "I thought it was silly too, but look where we are now."

"Just wait one day, you'll eventually get married." He mocked Ginny's tone, mirroring her facial expressions too, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"Please, you and me?" You raised a brow, teasing him, though biting back a fond smile.

"Neverrrr." He scrunched up his nose, holding you closer as you both now laid down in bed, safely in each other's grasp.

Finally comfortable, you found yourself drifting off into a much-needed slumber. The same could be said for Fred, it was safe to say the body-heat idea turned out better than anticipated.

And with this newfound love, perhaps the broomstick breaking was a blessing in disguise.