#since this is already the cringe zone

[not-neverland06]

n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)

(one chance please, just one chance with him)

“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”

Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 

You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 

At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 

Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 

You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 

You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 

It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 

But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…

You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 

Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 

Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”

“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 

You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 

There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 

The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 

You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 

Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 

Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 

Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 

You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 

It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 

“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 

Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”

“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”

“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 

You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”

You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?

So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 

You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 

Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 

Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 

“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”

Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 

It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 

Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 

Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.

Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 

“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”

Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”

You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 

Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 

It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 

You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 

Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.

Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 

That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.

You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 

He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 

He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?

You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 

You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 

You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 

You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 

You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 

“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”

He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 

It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”

“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 

There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”

The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 

You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 

“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.

He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”

You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 

You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 

You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 

You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 

You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 

You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 

It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 

Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 

You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 

“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 

“That tree was a hundred years old.”

You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 

“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 

There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 

“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”

“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 

You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”

The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 

“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 

“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”

“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 

You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”

He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”

You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 

There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 

Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 

Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 

Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 

Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 

But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 

There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 

“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 

“You look like shit.” 

Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 

“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”

“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 

“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 

“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”

You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 

“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”

Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 

You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 

This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"

Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 

“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 

You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 

“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 

It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 

That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 

It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 

But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 

He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 

Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 

He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 

He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”

“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.

Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”

That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 

You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 

But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 

He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?

He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 

He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 

He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 

But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.

“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 

Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 

She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”

Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 

A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 

Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 

Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 

Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.

Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.

You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 

Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 

“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 

You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”

He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 

Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 

He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 

You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 

You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 

You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”

He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”

You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 

He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 

But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 

He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 

“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 

You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 

Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 

Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 

You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 

You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 

One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 

He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 

You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 

He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 

You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 

You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 

It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 

His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 

Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 

You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”

Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”

You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 

Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 

The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 

You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 

He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 

You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 

But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 

“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 

“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”

You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”

You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”

“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 

You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 

But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.

You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  

It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 

You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 

He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 

And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”

He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 

You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 

A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[sturnsdarling]

gloves off

Hockeyplayer!Matt is on the ice, and a guy from the other team says something about his girl, so Matt deals with him

vibe check: based of this edit, violence, fighting descriptions, blood, fluff at the end, lowkey pick me vibes from reader but i don't actually care i love being cringe

1.7k words

A/N: I got a req for hockey matt and didn't see it until i saw that edit... I know some people don't like it but angry!matt makes my coochie tingle

love and cigs, merc

It was weekly occurrence, coming to watch Matt play hockey. Sometimes you were just watching him practice, others you were watching actual games. Today was the latter, his team was playing against the rival college, a game everyone had been waiting for for months.

They had spent weeks working their way up the leagues to finally get into the final stretch against each other, the school rivalry going back decades and either side being riddled with personal beef, some petty, some slightly more serious.

It was half way through the match, Matt had already been given multiple penalties for violent behaviour, slamming kids into the ice and barriers, sometimes because they deserved it, mostly because it was fun.

There was one specific kid on the other team, Josh Anderson, and Matt fucking hated him. They went through all of school together, playing hockey against each other since they could hold a stick. Anderson had always been bigger than Matt, until he had his growth spurt, and he made it his personal mission to make Matts life a living hell purely because he could. They hadn't played against each other in nearly three years, and Matt knew he had to come down hard on him.

They spent the whole first half of the game tormenting each other, pissing each other off in every way possible. Matt had already broken a stick, whacking his first one off the barrier after Anderson got him a penalty for something ridiculous. He was by the sidelines, standing with you as you taped his new stick for him, a tradition you had started even before you started dating.

"I'm gonna fuckin' bury him" Matt said, eyes trained on Anderson as he rubbed small circles on your arm.

You were taping the stick with green tape, your favourite colour, and just letting Matt rant, "he's irrelevant, my love, don't let him get under your skin" you cooed, knowing it would go in one ear and out the other.

"I dunno who he thinks he is, fuckin' pussy always coming after me like I wont break his jaw" Matt wasn't listening to you, but you didn't mind, you knew what he was like when he got in the zone for hockey, especially when he was pissed off.

You finished taping up his stick, scanning it with a satisfied hum and handing it to him, catching his attention. He looked to you with a clenched jaw that relaxed the moment he looked in your soft eyes.

"thanks, baby" Matt smiled, leaning over the barriers slightly to kiss you before pulling his helmet over his head properly and putting in his mouth guard.

He pushed away, skating across the ice to take his place, waiting for the second half buzzer to go off. As it did, he pointed to you, followed by a double tap on his chest plate, one for every year you'd been together.

The game began, and they didn't hold back at all. Matt was angrier than ever, and knowing that only made Anderson more eager to piss him off. They played for about ten minutes before the score shifted in the other teams favour. Anderson skated across the ice, celebrating a goal he didn't even score and b-lined for Matt, skating past him and maintaining eye contact through their helmets.

"Yo, Sturniolo, when we win, tell your girl I want her on her knees for me in the locker rooms as my trophy" Anderson said, his tone smug as a sly grin formed on his face.

A hot rage flooded through Matt, every once of anger boiling to the surface as he watched Anderson skate around him, taunting him to do something. His jaw clenched tight, and he saw red.

Matt threw his stick on the ice, bounding over to Anderson and pushing him backwards, sending him flying back onto the ice. Everyone in the stadium gasped in sync, and you immediately stood to your feet.

"you wanna say shit about my girl? huh? say it again, I fuckin' dare you" Matt spat, pulling out his mouth guard and standing over Anderson on the ice.

Anderson just laughed, pushing himself to his feet and pulling his mouth guard out.

"still that same angry little kid, aren't you Sturniolo?" He grinned, pressing his tongue to his teeth.

"yeah, I am, and you're still the same fuckin' loser you were back then, so come on, Anderson, say something about my girl again" Matt said, squaring up to the boy, who was once double his height, that he was now eye to eye with.

Everyone in the stadium had stopped, time standing still as the whole room watched the disaster in front of them unfold, not even the ref was getting involved, knowing from the events of the first half that the boys clearly had something to sort out.

"ion' want your bum ass girl, Sturns, she's probably been passed around the whole team" Anderson chuckled, looking to the boys all standing round in anticipation.

That was all it took, before Anderson could look back, Matts gloves were off, and his fist was connected with the plastic of Andersons helmet, sending it flying across the ice as Matts knuckles connected with Andersons jaw.

Matt sent him flying onto the ice, crawling on top of him and pummelling into him relentlessly. The whole room erupted, people screaming to get Matt off him, Matts team cheering him on and Andersons team berating the ref for not stopping it. No one even tried to get involved, all slightly terrified by the sight of Matt denting the ice with the back of Andersons skull. You on the other hand, were begging security to let you on the ice, moving in a flash the moment you saw Matt take his gloves off

Matt was relentless, and Anderson was just as bad, hitting Matt back the best he could. There was a split second where Anderson was on top of Matt, laying into him and cracking the plastic face shield off the bridge of his nose. Matt simply smiled with blood covered teeth, just before cocking his head forward, head butting Anderson with the plastic of his helmet, and the next thing you knew, Matt was back on top of him, punching him over and over again.

You finally got onto the ice, struggling to walk straight as you screamed Matts name over and over again. He couldn't hear you, he was in a world of his own, laying into the nearly unconscious boy beneath him.

"Matt!" You screamed, grabbing his arm as he raised it once more to hit Anderson with a final blow.

Your touch brought Matt back to reality, his attention snapping to you immediately. His eyes were bloodshot, a bruise already forming on his definitely broken nose as bright red blood began to dry on the lower half of his face. The look of pleading on your face, the tears pricking in your eyes and your grip on Matts wrist, made all the muscles in his body relax.

"stop, please" you said, softly.

Matt looked up at you, brows flinching slightly before he looked down to Andersons groaning, stuttering body on the ice, and then back to you. You lowered your head slightly, looking at Matt through your lashes with pleading eyes. He couldn't help but crumble, getting up off the ice and near enough melting into your arms.

Your hands round his shoulders, his arms round your waist and head buried in your neck, you just stood their on the ice for what felt like forever, rubbing Matts back with slow touches as everyone began to tend to Anderson.

"lets go, yeah?" you muttered to Matt, and he nodded into your neck.

In the locker rooms,

Matt sat on the bench opposite you, his broken helmet next to him as you perched on the bench, patting the blood from his face with a damp, warm towel. He hissed with every touch, and you apologised softly nearly every time.

"that was really fucking stupid, Matt" You said, looking at his bloodied features intently.

Matt sighed, "I know" He scanned over your face as you gently cared for him.

"you could get kicked from the team" You said, shaking your head slightly

Matt hissed as you brushed his bruised and blooded nose with the towel, "I know" he repeated.

"so then why did you do it?" You asked, only a small once of judgement in your tone.

"he said shit about you" Matt admitted

You stopped your movements, pulling your eyes from Matts nose to lock eyes with him. He was already looking at you, eyes sad like a puppy. You sighed, shaking your head as an uncontrollable half smile formed on your face.

Matts bloodied hand came to your jaw, cupping your cheek in his big hand as his thumb rubbed the soft skin there.

"he started speaking about you, and - and I just lost it" Matt said, his tone soft.

You leaned into his touch, brows furrowed slightly as your eyes poured into his bright blue ones, flitting between them.

"the kid has basically bullied me my whole life, and now I'm finally just as big as he is, I jus-" Matt sighed, "I needed a reason to batter him, and he gave me one"

"me?" you questioned with tight knit brows

Matt nodded, pressing his thumb into your skin with more pressure, "you're the most important thing in my life, more than any stupid place on the team or petty childhood beef, n' I can handle him comin' for me, I don't give a fuck, but he came for you and-" frustrated tears started to form in his eyes, so he stopped talking.

You practically melted at the sight, pressing a long kiss into Matts palm,

"I love you" you said, softly.

Matt smiled slightly, despite the pain it caused him and brought your head to his lips, pressing a short kiss onto your forehead.

"I love you more" Matt replied.

Normally, you would have gotten into a twenty minute long back and forth about who loved who more, but today, Matt had earned rights to that title, and even though the way he handled the situation wasn't ideal, at least you knew you never had to doubt his love for you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[grabby-smitten]

How to build a fence in 3 steps

Subjects: Sylus Qin x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Content: A sad attempt at comedy, crackfic, interactions, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, idk… let me know if i missed anything. Zayne, Rafayel and Xavier are main characters… sort of…

When you finally became his and how he subtly let everyone know.

Sylus is not the jealous type, but he is always sure to be very clear about boundaries and limits. He’s very meticulous about it and he likes to let people know whenever that changes. Like building fences for a new empty lot he just acquired so no one would misunderstand and try to get in. He’s defining property lines.

Step 1: Plan the layout, measure and mark.

You’ve been staying longer and longer within the N109 Zone since your relationship became sort of official. Well, official for you and Sylus and probably the twins. Nobody else could really know you were kind of dating the head of Onychinus for various obvious reasons.

Commuting from one place to another became a bit of a hassle so you would let Sylus know in advance about your schedule and let him or Mephisto escort you back safely.

And today was one of those days. You have an appointment with your primary care physician, in other words, doctor Zayne. It’s been days since you let Sylus know about your visit to Akso hospital today but he seemed to have different plans.

“Sylus,” you called out of breath, once again trying to get his attention. Which was becoming a difficult task for both of you since you were sitting on his desk, legs wide surrounding his waist as he nestled in your neck. “Sylus… I gotta- I gotta go,”

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not moving a muscle to do as you said. He has been toying with your collarbone and neck for a while and you weren’t complaining before, but the reminder for your appointment already rang twice.

“You’re not really stopping me either, kitten,” the buttons of your shirt began to pop one by one as Sylus descended to your chest. His lips nibbled at your already tender skin and your frustration began to grow… your breathing became heavier… your hands gripping Sylus’ jacket…

When suddenly he halted his movements. Leaving a final kiss on your temple, he began to fix your clothes as if nothing happened.

“I think you’re right, let’s get you to the hospital,” in a daze, you tried to regain some composure.

A smirk played at the corner of Sylus’ lips as he accompanied you to your bike, wishing you a safe ride. He added that you should let him know once you arrived at the hospital.

“These don’t look like something a wanderer would make,” Zayne inspected the marks around your neck and down your chest. They were a bit more prominent around the area where the stethoscope should go.

You sat there, listening to Zayne’s words— completely and utterly mortified once realization hit you. You had left in a hurry, forgetting the small situation you and Sylus had been in.

“It’s not what you think—“ you began to explain but Zayne cut you short.

“Sure, then enlighten me, please,” sarcasm dripped from every word Zayne uttered.

“It’s… it’s… it’s iron deficiency.” you spoke under your breath. It was the first thing that came to your mind and quickly regretted it, mentally facepalming yourself.

“You know I’m your doctor, right?” Yeah, you knew and that’s why you internally cringed at his rebuke.

“Then as my doctor, you should know,” but, of course, you wouldn’t back down at this point.

With a deep sigh, Zayne quickly took his notepad and wrote down a few lines.

“Okay, then. For your iron deficiency.” He handed you the note which you put in your jacket without checking it. You just wanted to leave fast and pray so that Zayne could forget everything that just happened.

Once you left the hospital you finally felt like you could breathe. As you walked towards the parking lot, you pulled the prescription and your eyes widened as soon as you read what he wrote. Even your step faltered. He did not just prescribe you, contraceptives. That wasn’t even his area of expertise, you thought as you crumbled the paper, fisting it and aggressively shoving it down your pocket.

Once alone, Zayne couldn’t help but go over your visit again and again.

“What is she dating? A leech?” The doctor sighed, hunched over his desk as the whole situation passed through his mind for a fifth time. Debating whether he should be concerned or not.

Step 2: Dig the holes and add the concrete

Balance is the key to everything, right? So that’s why Sylus suggested that he can stay in your place too. Closer to your work and everything you own is there. He doesn’t mind, on the contrary, it’s lovely to be surrounded by your presence all the time. He finds you in the little details scattered all over your apartment and thinks it’s cute. Very you.

Xavier, your neighbor and fellow hunter, has begun to notice things too. Things about you and well, your private life. How could he not, even your trash had doubled.

Xavier noticed that it’s no longer just your stuff that’s lying around your apartment. Every time he asked to borrow something or meet for the monthly neighborhood meeting, there was more stuff at your place.

He took notice of the new pair of indoor shoes at your entrance, too big for your feet. The dark coat at your hanger and the leather jacket on your kitchen’s stool. All men’s size.

Xavier could even smell a faint new perfume all over your place too, and it wasn’t yours. He also heard the other neighbors gossiping about Y/N’s new handsome “friend” who visited quite often. How come he has never seen him?

Today wasn’t any different for Xavier. He just came to ask if he could borrow some eggs since he already burned the twelve-pack he got at the convenience store in the morning. So why? why were you cooking for more than one person and had the whole table ready for what seemed to be a romantic dinner?

He watched you roam around your fridge in search of the eggs and couldn’t help himself. His curiosity was killing him.

“So… you’re making dinner for two?”

“Ah!” You exclaimed, hitting your head against the fridge door. His question took you by surprise. “Yeah, cooking is not my forte but alas.”

“Tell me about it,” Xavier felt bad. The bump in your head that would probably begin to grow any moment now showed how little you wanted to talk about your dinner plans.

So he took the eggs, thanked you and left.

At his apartment, he noticed the brand of eggs wasn’t the usual one you always got. This one was more expensive. Yeah, he was sure you had someone else living there and yes, for some reason that irritated him a bit.

Step 3: Attach, cap and stain

“Ah, my boss wishes to acquire this piece for his girlfriend.” The guy buying Rafayel’s painting had sent a representative. It was not unusual but it was extremely boring.

“I think that’s very romantic, don’t you think?” Thomas added. He had to because Rafayel didn’t seem to be interested in anything they were talking about.

But now he realized that he should have paid attention.

Rafayel barely remembered the words of his latest transaction. How eager Thomas looked because the buyer had offered triple the amount of the original price. Now Rafayel stood shocked, seeing his own painting on your wall never crossed his mind. Especially the one he sold to be a gift for someone’s girlfriend.

It was a pretty small frame, something he did on a whim so what the hell was it doing here? And not at the supposed girlfriend’s house? This wasn’t right.

“Hey—Y/N!” He frantically called you over, “Y/N!” Again, he shouted like he was being murdered.

“Rafayel just a second—“ you were looking for your guns. Sylus had cleaned them earlier but you didn’t know where he put them.

“No! Why is this painting here?” He was about to hyperventilate and burn down his own painting.

“I swear if you say it’s ugly, I’ll smack you,” you said, walking out of your room and joining him at the entrance of your place.

“That’s not it! It’s mine!” He pointed an accusatory finger at the framed painting.

“Clearly not, because this is my place, last time I checked.” You frowned at his outburst which by now you were used to, but not… exactly like this one.

“That’s not— I mean I painted it!” Frustration was clear in his voice as he placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you back and forth.

“Ah… well, that’s go— wait what?!” You widened your eyes as you processed his words.

You were going to kill Sylus. But first, you needed to calm Rafayel down and then find your weapons.

Yes, nobody knew you were dating the head of Onychinus but they all sure knew you weren’t in the market anymore.

And that’s how Sylus fenced his property in just three steps.

Extra:

Luke and Kieran have never seen Mephisto so tired. What kind of mission had the boss given him? There wasn’t any super important job at Onychinus today.

The twins took pity on the crow. It seemed to be missing some feathers too.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 4

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

CW: POV depiction of anxiety and dissociation, How It's Made, reader character wearing a wig (positive, protective style), Soap (nosy), mention of sex toys, Simon Riley Is Honesty Just A Big Guy (TM),

Simon and Price are gone for less than a minute before you feel awkward. You’re almost done with the water, so you look around for the TV remote. It’s Gaz, absurdly pretty for some kind of international British SWAT team, who hands it to you with a half smile before wandering off, you assume to the bathroom.

That leaves you clicking through the TV while Soap does something on his phone. All of the local channels are in German, you know, so you look for something to stream. You chance a sidelong glance at Soap, but he’s already looking at you. He grins when you make eye contact.

“So yer LT’s girl, then?”

Fuck, that’s not a question you know how to answer. “Um.”

“Leave it, Soap,” Gaz says, returning from the bathroom. He smiles at you as he pockets his phone. “You don’t have to tell us anything you’re not comfortable with. Lieutenant Riley’s a private person, we understand.”

“That’s… it’s okay.” You tap into the PictureTime channel, since it’s not one you usually have access to. As you browse through the educational options - ooh, How It’s Built! - you say, “I think we’re both… a bit surprised to see each other here.”

“I can’t imagine,” Gaz says, sitting down at the other end of the couch. “Oh, I’ve not seen this one on puzzles and cheesecake.”

You tap into it, because you like puzzles, cheesecake, candles, and paintbrushes. Just in time to finish your water bottle. The armchair is a bit narrow and awkward, so you wiggle the cushion from behind your back so you can plop it, and yourself, onto the ground. You shuffle your legs to start your warm up as the theme song plays.

“How'd'ye come to answerin’ LT like yer military?” Soap asks. “’Acknowledge’, ‘acknowledged’, all o’ that?”

“Oh,” you answer, without thinking about it. “That’s just our protocol, to make sure I understand his directions.”

“’E’s givin’ you enough directions to need protocols?” He gives you a considering once-over. “Interestin’. Impressive that it held up in an emergency. That takes practice.”

Shit. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“’S he your, what’er they called? Dominant partner, then?”

God, Simon, why didn’t you take this one with you? “I’m… not at liberty to say?”

“Leave her alone, Soap,” Gaz says, exasperated. He tosses a throw pillow at Soap’s head. “She’s in shock, Simon’s trying to keep her calm and comfortable.”

“Ghostie adopts a civilian an’ ah’m supposed to have nae questions?” Soap grins at you. “She’s got a signal if she dinnae want to talk. Four fingers, right?”

“Bother Ghost about it, later,” Gaz says. He turns to you. “Do you know what you want to eat? There’s a few places open.”

Soap doesn’t pester you, after that. The three of you settle on Mediterranean food, and then they summarily leave you alone. Gaz seems content to watch the show, though Soap watches you do your floor stretches curiously.

You could probably have moved to another stretch a while ago, but you’re still in your work slacks and blouse. You think longingly of the yoga pants you laid out on your bed before leaving for meetings. And then you cringe to think of Simon coming in to sweep through the room and pack up all of your things. You hadn’t packed a lot, but you’d unpacked into the space to make yourself comfortable.

You realize that your sex toy is charging in the bedside table and cringe. You hope he doesn’t notice it. It’s good quality, but you can always buy another one.

And then you start to worry about your phone. You’d left your personal in the room because of the time zone change slowing down all of your personal messages. You’d lost your work phone and computer today with… everything that happened. Were people trying to get a hold of you? Had news of the incident made it to the US? Would Simon see your embarrassing phone background?

You resist the urge to get up and pace. Instead, you settle into butterflying your legs.

“You need more water?” Gaz’s voice startles you, but you nod and he passes a bottle to you on the floor. “Cap says that they’re done with the official stuff, he’s grabbing food while Ghost grabs your things. Probably less than an hour before they get back.”

Your anxiety shouts that that isn’t enough time. But since you can’t definitively answer the question For what?, you take a breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.”

Maybe it’s because your heart is beating a little faster, muscles a bit warmer, but you have trouble settling Into the show. Your mind races. You have to remind yourself to relax, then have to clamber to your feet and shuffle off to the bathroom because you relaxed your pelvic floor a little too much.

Your eyes in the mirror are a little too wide. The wig - every time you wear a good one, you almost forget you’re wearing it - is holding up admirably, at least. It feathers around your face, a bit squished where you slept on it. But with the smudged eyeliner and mascara you can kind of pretend you’re in an action movie.

Thank goodness agent Ghost rescued me and the other hostages, you think to yourself, pouting your lips dramatically as you wash your hands.

The last time you washed your hands there was a dead body on the floor.

“Nope,” you say aloud, practically flinging yourself into the bedroom. “Nope. Nope.”

You pace in a tight circle, kicking the door closed when you catch Gaz and Soap looking at you with concerned eyes. Two circuits later, the room is too small, so you open the door again and shuffle out to sit in the armchair again, one leg pulled up for you to wrap your arms around.

Throwing your mind into action shots of specialty machinery, you try to force yourself to settle. Your whole body feels like it will shake apart if you pay too much attention to it, so you don’t pay it any attention at all. The episode ends and rolls into the next one, so you learn about bird cages and automated pharmacy drones. You hear Gaz say something soft, and Soap answers, the burr of his voice just as quiet, mixing pleasantly with the murmur of the narrator.

You must lose time, again, because the next thing you know, Simon is crouching in front of you again. Big hands smooth over your arms, and he shushes you as you jump.

“Got y’r stuff,” he says. “Where’s your head at?”

You open your mouth, close it. Hold up four fingers.

“Mm, day’s catchin’ up, again. Go into the bedroom, get changed. No zippers or clasps. Buttons okay. Acknowledge.”

“Bedroom, change clothes,” you confirm, heaving a big sigh. “Comfy. Acknowledged.”

He helps you stand, and you can’t help but tip forward to put your face into his chest. He smells a little. Like stale sweat and gunpowder. His arms stop yours when they come up for an automatic hug.

“Go change,” he whispers into the top of your head, “An’ I’ll get rid of the rest of ‘em, eh?”

The haze around you pops. That’s the only way to describe it. One minute, everything is distantly fuzzy, and the next thing you know you can feel the circulation of the air in the room and his heartbeat against your forehead. The TV is quieter, and you can hear Price and Gaz and Soap talking between themselves.

“Acknowledged,” you say into his sternum. “Gotta go change.”

He has to gently guide you around his bulk. But eventually you shuffle back into the bedroom. Your suitcase is waiting for you in the far corner, and it doesn’t take you long to dig out your lounge wear. Soft, thin pants with cartoon dogs on them and an oversized tee you got from a fundraiser. And then you take both off because that’s not sexy.

Why didn’t I pack nicer stuff? Can I play off these lacy panties as sleep wear? He saw it all and packed it, he probably clocked those as the only sexy thing I have. You shake your head at yourself. He said to wear something comfortable. He knows what you have. This is fine.

Your friend’s son’s basketball mascot grins up at you. You decide to compromise and switch the shirt for a black cami you usually wear under a nice blouse.

When you peek out of the room, Simon’s in the middle of the couch, and he’s blocked one end by dragging the table closer to where he’s sitting. His jeans have been traded for black sweats, but you can’t tell if his black shirt is new or not. Somehow, he looks bigger, but in a nice way. Softer. If a brick shit-house could look soft. A brick book nook.

“’Ey, pretty girl,” he says, leaning enough to put an arm across the back of the couch. “Come sit, we’re gonna eat and then we’re gonna talk.”

When you get close, you realize that there’s not enough room for both of you to sit unless you’re half on top of him.

You want to throw yourself entirely into his lap. But you can smell the food now, and you’re so hungry. So you perch as much of your ass on the couch as you can and swing your legs over one of his. You meet his eyes just as his arm comes down across your thighs. His hand cups the outside of your leg in a way that makes you remember what he said.

He’s not letting you go, now.

[maeumi-jng]

language of love

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader

synopsis: the language of love... so simple yet so profound. especially when you can't muster the courage to tell that special someone. or the subtle ways enha shows they like you.

warnings: fluff, skinship, swearing, mention of a nosebleed, unclear topic of insecurities about looks with riki, kinda cringe but everyone's so flirty (esp, hee, jay, and hoon 🤭), proof read-ish as usual

library: enhypen bookshelf

author's note: this was supposed to take one day but took four because i kept getting called into work shifts that i don't normally do 😭🤧 so i may or may not have gotten a bit lost on the way, bare with me please ♡︎

heeseung

heeseung is someone who likes to spend time with you, quality time if you will. but he's always in internal conflict about it. he loves being with you but when he's with you, he doesn't know how to act. you make him feel like jelly. as if he'd melt by being with you. and the amount of time he'd spend with you made the lines between friends and something more quite blurry.

but the time he likes to spent with you isn't on anything normal or something that occurs everyday like grocery shopping, having lunch together, or watching a movie with you. while of course, he enjoyed those things, heeseung like to make the smallest things that seemed insignificant and unimportant to life heart fluttering.

take for example, the one time you had decided to sit down at a bench in the park with your group of friends. heeseung was next to you when you found a newspaper that had been left behind with an unfinished crossword puzzle.

you weren't really a crossword puzzle type of person but you had a pen in your bag and you figured why not?

the puzzle was ocean themed which lost you even more. but you persevered only to become stuck on the very last word. it was across, intertwining with the 1st word, and seven letters long. the prompt? 'what is a community of organisms that live on or near a 'benthic zone'?'

yup. beyond you.

heeseung, who was talking to sunghoon, noticed your struggle by the pout of your lips, wondering eyes, occasional sighs and the tapping of your pen against your chin. a small smile crept onto his face when you turned to him and asked, "hee, i'm stuck. how do you do this? help me... please?"

who was he to deny such a cute request?

suddenly, he leaned towards you, taking your pen out of your hand. you blinked blankly at the close proximity between the two of you. you could feel the warmth radiate off of him. awkwardly, you rubbed the nape of your neck while heeseung glided the pen across the seven boxes. you couldn't tell what he was writing, eyes focused on the side of his face. he looked beautiful from the side too.

you chewed on your lip, watching him pull back and retract his hand. "you're done?" you asked, bewildered he had figured it out without searching it up.

heeseung hummed, eyes trailing over your face. "nope," he said, "i don't know the answer." he shrugged.

"huh?" you raised a brow, now peering over to the once empty row of squares. you're brows furrowed, trying to read the letters. but once you did, your eyes widened at the seven filled boxes.

URSOQT♡︎

"i–" you turned your head to heeseung to ask him what he meant as a wave of heat taking over your face. but he was already looking at you.

any voice you had had suddenly died down. you pressed your lips together, unable to form any words.

heeseung smiled softly, heart entirely overwhelmed by your reaction. he sighed, breathing in the fresh air before looking over to sunghoon. "don't you just love crosswords?"

sunghoon blinked. "what? hyung, i'm talking about basketball right now. crosswords? what are you on?"

heeseung pursed his lips, turning back to you. "i love crosswords."

see? crosswords... insignificant and not life changing. but ever since that day, you had never gone a second without your heart fluttering when you thought about it.

see? significant and life changing. 🤗

jongseong

jay hated having glasses.

or he hated having poor eyesight which made him have glasses.

whatever... it didn't matter. he just hated his glasses. they were a nuisance, always hurting the bridge of his nose and actually rendering him unable to see the face.

to make matters worse, riki and jake loved to tease him about how bad his eyesight actually was by trying them on. it was only a few seconds into wearing them that riki was complaining about sore eyes and the shock of his suddenly blurry vision had finally registered in jake's brain once he wore them. so jay avoided giving people his glasses to try on.

but when it came to you... it was hard to say no.

jay was in his local cafe, just reading his book, determined to get through it even though his brain was telling him to take an afternoon nap. also because he was meeting you soon and he was more determined to stay awake for that.

he had come early because he didn't want to keep you waiting, even for a second. but he had become so engrossed in his book, jay didn't even realise you had finally arrived.

"peekaboo. guess who? " suddenly, as jay was reading, your hands hovered over his glasses, covering his vision.

a smile automatically came to his face while jay rested his book down on the table. "is it the most prettiest girl in the universe?"

your eyes widened at his words, pulling your hands quickly back to you. your cheeks flushed while you cleared your throat, taking a seat next to him.

jay watched you try to dismiss his words but you didn't know what to say. and call it a bit odd, but jay loved it.

you blinked at his face, tilting your head, making jay raise a brow. suddenly it was his turn to be nervous when you leaned in and took his glasses gently off of his face. he could feel your hot breath from this close proximity. oh how he wished he could close in just a few more centimetres.

"can i try these on?" you queried.

jay slowly nodded, watching you first look through the lenses. you squinted at the wave of blurriness. "christ," you mumbled, trying to blink it away. "jay, you really can't see," you teased before gliding the frames onto your face.

jay needed to look away, taking anything as a distraction because he wasn't sure if he could handle seeing you wear his glasses.

you scrunched your nose at the heavy weight. you tapped jay's shoulder, trying to get his attention. "jay, look! i can't even see anything with these on."

jay internally cursed, slowly moving his head back to it's original position. he paused at the sight.

the thing was, jay already found you extremely adorable. there was just so much to like about you. the look on your face when you tried to be mad or when you needed to concentrate. or when you meet up and both realise you were wearing matching clothing. or whenever you saw stray kittens and puppies when it rained and you would sacrifice your umbrella just so they could have some shade and keep warm.

in the nicest way possible, you were terrible for his heart.

but watching you wear his glasses... it was so simple and stupid but it made his heart flip a million times more. you looked good in his things. a fact of the universe.

jay smiled softly, observing you take them off once your head started to throb.

"it's okay. they look better on you anyways," you told him, leaning in again to carefully put them back on his face.

jay's heart was now slamming against his chest. in his vision, he could see you use your index finger to nestle the glasses onto his nose bridge. "there," you said, "handsome as ever."

jay blinked, trying to calm his racing heart with subtle deep breaths.

he needed to confess... soon.

jaeyun

you know how quality time is a love language? well, it's a language that jake knows off by heart ever since he met you.

unlike heeseung, he wasn't entirely fixated on the small things. he liked doing the daily things with you like your morning hot chocolate run, going shopping with you, having a fixed lunch (date) everyday... it guaranteed him his daily dose of you and vice versa.

even if you were doing nothing, jake liked to hang out. just watching tiktoks on your phone or tv shows together, trying a new recipe you found, or even going on a picnic was enough for jake (and you).

take now for example. you were hanging out in the library for god's sake. you had an assignment to finish (mostly because you had pushed it so far that you had almost entirely forgotten it). despite you telling jake that it was literally going to take you hours because it took you thirty minutes to half-ass an introduction, he was all like, "it's fine. i have nothing to do any way."

like ??? what do you mean you have nothing to do? you could think of twenty things that were better than this. and that was just off the top of your head.

you'd like to think that you were getting a lot done, considering a few hours had passed and it seemed like there were a lot of words on your screen.

however, reality is not that kind.

instead, you had only written 600 words of your 2000 word essay and mostly focused on the fact that jake was spending him time... by staring at you.

"jake... i can't focus if you keep looking at me. i told you to go do something else more fun," you uttered, not peeling your eyes away from the screen.

"but this is fun. for your information, i find the fact that you find me more interesting than your essay really fun," jake smiled, leaning on his arm while he sat across you.

you blinked blankly at your screen. what were you writing again? "well now... now you're just twisting my words," you mumbled, feeling a wave of warmth scatter across the back of your neck.

suddenly a ding echoed from your phone making the both of you jump. you quickly ushered your phone to yourself, forgetting to silent your phone when you had entered. your eyes flickered over the notification and upon registering it, your face dropped.

jake raised a brow. "who is it?"

"it's my mum, shit i forgot," you sighed. "i have to go run errands for her. sorry, jake. at least you can find something fun to do now. see you!"

jake watched you quickly pack your stuff up, suddenly processing that you were leaving with out him.

you were just heading out of the library, standing up from your table when you felt a tug on your wrist. your eyes fell to your hand and then up to jake. you peered with a curious gaze.

"wait for me," jake told you, jacket half shrugged on. he sighed at your confused expression. "i'm coming with you, obviously."

"jake, seriously, it's fine," you laughed softly as he struggled to gather his things.

jake turned to you, sporting the uttermost serious expression you had ever seen on his face. "you don't get it... i cancel my other plans to spend time with you. sweetheart, there is literally nothing else i'd rather do than be with you."

oh.

your eyes widened. the endearment... the obviousness of it all...

you gave a small sigh, shaking your head slightly before letting a warm smile sprawl onto your face. "well come on then."

jake grinned, taking his bag off of the chair next to him. "this is gonna be great! especially because i haven't seen your mum in ages."

you raised a brow as you both walked together. "jake, you literally saw her three days ago."

"my point exactly."

sunghoon

to be honest, sunghoon doesn't necessarily exhibit the fact he likes you. because he doesn't really know how to. he preferred to keep his feelings at bay, more than content with being friends with you instead of ruining your relationship. and maybe... just maybe his feelings for you would go away.

but that preference was short lived when sunghoon realised he couldn't really control himself around you any longer. he'd find himself caring about all the small things.

every time he talked to you and he caught your smile when you were happily talking about the things you loved, sunghoon had to force himself to turn his head away and hide his own smile.

one time you hit your nose and dramatically made a big deal about it. it was amusing until sunghoon actually saw blood and the panic cross your eyes. now sunghoon naturally covered all the sharp and blunt corners and objects that you could possibly hurt yourself with when you were both walking together while making sure you walked on the inside of the road rather than near the cars or poles.

his friends even noticed. especially when he'd laugh at a tiktok you were showing him but they showed the exact one to him days before and sunghoon didn't even utter a word.

in summary: sunghoon liked you way too much.

and it was getting harder to contain his feelings.

"sunghoon-ah?" you called out, looking at your phone.

sunghoon, who was laying next to you on a picnic blanket, discreetly looking at you the entire time and revelling in the idyllic nature, hummed in response.

"what do you think about this guy for me?"

sunghoon squinted as you showed him your phone. a small huff of amusement fell from his lips. "why? does he have a crush on you or something?" he joked, briefly glancing at the phone, not even hiding his uninterest.

you rolled your eyes, taking your phone back. leave it up to sunghoon to take things so half-heartedly. "no... it's just that my friend is trying to set me up with someone–"

suddenly the phone was taken out of your hands. now fully attentive, sunghoon eyed the photo on your phone. he furrowed his brows, making you question him. "sunghoon?"

he sucked his teeth and tilted his head, pondering. "but don't i look better than this guy?"

you blinked rapidly, at a lost for words. sunghoon wasn't ever this straightforward with you. nor did he flirt subtly. in all the time you had known him, you had known him to be a sweet and caring person underneath all that evasiveness (all of which you'd come to really like, not that you'd ever tell him). but he'd never voice these things to you...

you broke out into a small smile with a quiet hum. "i guess you are better looking," you shrugged with feigned nonchalance, averting your eyes to anywhere else in the park.

sunghoon looked at your flushed state and smiled to himself. he nodded, mostly to himself, as he returned your phone. "yeah," he agreed with red ears, "i'm a lot better looking."

seonwoo

when seonwoo realised he liked you, at first he did nothing about it. what was he even going to do? tell you? ha! what a joke!

but after encountering several other people asking him for your number or socials, seonwoo realised he needed to up his game. make it more obvious. like really obvious.

so the first thing he did? he confessed.

you being you, you thought he was playing a joke on you. because why on earth would the kim seonwoo like you? this was the real world not la-la-la land.

seonwoo could barely register that fact that you thought he was joking. so he made it his mission to bring it up as often as he could. but not so much that you'd get fed up.

like you had just begun watching a drama that had finished a few weeks ago and seonwoo had decided to join you. you were so obsessed with it that you kept bringing it up when you could. one day, you were telling him about a part you saw when he briefly fell asleep and he says casually, “i know.”

and you’re like ??? “seonwoo, you fell asleep. what do you mean you know?”

he’d look at you and say, “i already watched all of it.”

you blinked blankly. “i– w-what? then why would you watch it again? isn’t that like a waste of time?”

“because you wanted to and because i like you. do i need any other reason?”

ohhhhhh

or on any random day, seonwoo would walk into your room and smile widely while holding up two matching items. "look what i got!”

you’d look up and press your lips together. “more matching keychains? not that i'm complaining but seonwoo.. i have like twenty of these because of you. the whole point of keychains is to actually use them not swap them out every other day.”

seonwoo would pout. “b-but each one shows how much i like you.”

you blankly look at him before slamming your head into your pillows, hiding your flushed cheeks. "ugh, seonwoo, why are you like this?" you grumbled, fighting between the urge to cringe or crumble.

seonwoo would be attaching the new keychains he brought to your already packed bag. "because i'm amazing," he'd say, "and because i like you."

your last straw was picked when you were trying to do something a simple as show him a video you found on your phone during your absentminded scrolling. "seonwoo, watch this."

seonwoo leaned in next to you, eyes momentarily on the phone before resting on you for most of the video.

you were grinning at the video of cute puppies before realising seonwoo was looking at you instead. "i– are you watching?" you queried, suddenly feeling self conscious all of a sudden

"hmm?" seonwoo blinked, moving his eyes back to the screen. "oh... yeah."

"seonwoo," you whined. "you need to stop that."

"stop what? looking at you. but that's like normal," seonwoo raised a brow.

"no, stop looking at me like that."

"like what?" seonwoo egged on. "like my entire world is in front of me?"

you sucked in a sharp breath, giving him a pointed look.

seonwoo held your gaze, responding earnestly. "does it make you feel uncomfortable? if it does... i'll stop. it'll be hard but i'll do it."

you chewed your bottom lip, spotting the dismay in his boba eyes. "no. it's okay. i like it."

a surge of relief wavered throughout you when a wide smile appeared back onto his face. "good," sunoo beamed, "i'm glad."

jungwon

jungwon was as direct as some get. if he had something to say, he'd say it. this persona, however, did not apply to two things: when someone asked him if he liked the food he was eating when he didn't or when it came to you.

jungwon didn't really know how it happened but he seemed to lose all senses and all the ability to speak when he was around you. that's when he realised he liked you.

every time you were with each other, a majority of it was in this comforting silence with the occasional side conversation. but if you minded, you didn't say anything. you seemed to enjoy the peace that always stemmed when you two were together.

that was one of those things that made jungwon find it difficult to communicate his feelings with you. with every passing day, he'd return home with something else he liked about you.

one day you were hanging out with your friend group. the sun was setting, it was warm out despite the slight breeze. jungwon was talking to his friend on his right when he realised he hadn't heard your voice in a while. he turned to you, only to find you resting your eyes, absorbing the peaceful atmosphere while your hair danced with the wind. that day, jungwon went home realising he really liked seeing you at peace.

another day, jungwon found out that you were really good at remembering the small things and how attached you got to them. he was in your room for the first time and you went to grab some water. his eyes skimmed the room, stopping on the shelf that was littered with some of the most random items: old movie tickets, beads, coins, and even a heart-shaped pebble.

you came back into the room, settling the cups of water down on your desk. "what are you looking at? ah, you found the shelf."

jungwon curiously turned to you, eyes still stuck on the shelf. "what is all of this?" his voice barely above a whisper.

"memories," you murmured softly. you walked next to him, gingerly picking the pebble off of the wood and showed it to jungwon. "you don't remember this one?"

jungwon raised a brow, trying to scavenge his brain for this pebble. after a lot of nothingness, it struck him! "oh my god, this is not the same rock we saw at beach last year, is it?" you had both found it hiding in the sand after you trailed away from the others.

"ding ding! a point for yang jungwon!" you confirmed, a small smile teetering on your face.

jungwon looked at you wordlessly. he didn't know what to say. if he thought about it, a lot of that shelf had him on it. the movie tickets, the coins he found on the road, the teddy bear he brought you for your birthday... you had kept everything.

after that day, jungwon knew he needed to make things a tad bit more obvious. at least in his perspective. so he showed you in a way that didn't have him talking too much: acts of service.

jungwon knew you ordered your coffee every morning so he'd bring it with him every time you met. he always kept a hoodie for you because you always got cold easily. always call you when you were on the bus or getting a ride to make sure you reached home safely. opening stubborn packs of food when you couldn't. always having medicine on hand when you felt unwell.

jungwon would basically drop everything for you. and he'd think he was doing it sooo discreetly but you noticed, embarrassing him when you pointed it out.

"you're just so thoughtful, so i wanted to show you that i also think about you too.. like a lot."

(future) boyfriend goals indeed. 🤭

riki

similar to seonwoo, in an strange way, riki was direct. strange because this only occurred when he had a point to prove. call it what you want... youth or the journey of maturity, but if he wanted to let you know something, he'd say it. in summary: for you, an attention seek.

while riki was competitive, he never really competed with a person one-on-one. it was rather a battle of what he could do rather than him by himself. like he'd rather find out he's better by acing them in a basketball match or something.

yet, when both of you were hanging out with your friends in a pet cafe to relieve some stress, riki found himself competing with the worker who had been staring at you ever since you took a step into the place.

how was riki going to resolve this you ask? (or win, in this case?)

by trying to get as many pets around him as he could. see, riki knew you cherished animals. any time you were near one, you'd always have to stop to look, talk, and ensure they were safe. riki found it endearing. so if all the animals in the cafe loved him and not the the guy who literally works there, then not only has he won over the animals and the worker, but most importantly, he's won your heart (vicariously through animals, of course).

the only problem? as mentioned, the guy worked there. and while the one shiba inu in the cafe seemed to adore riki, the rest were in the hands of the freaking worker! and right beside him was you.

riki whisper-yelled your name, capturing your attention. "look at this!"

you turned to find the same young shiba inu, the one you had been fawning over the moment you saw him, sleeping in riki's lap. your eyes softened at the sight of them together. cuteness with cuteness... just your luck. you reached for the phone in the pocket of your jacket.

riki paused briefly, realising you had snapped a sneaky photo of him and the puppy. discreetly, his eyes took a moment to savour the awkward realisation on the worker's face. a small smug grin made it's way onto his face. he was on your camera roll. he won.

but this type of stuff was tame in comparison to what riki pulled the other day.

you were at his house, waiting for him to get ready so you could watch a new movie in the cinema. riki was hopping out, trying to put his sock on when he saw you intently staring at your phone.

a sudden flick to your forehead got your attention.

"ow!" you exclaimed, rubbing your head. "riki, what the hell?"

riki bit back his smile when he saw you pout. "what are you looking at so much that you can't look at me?"

you rolled your eyes, removing your hand from your forehead. "first of all, you're the one taking forever. second of all... it's not really anything, it's just a pretty person. see? don't you think they're like really pretty?" you sucked in a sharp breath, waiting for an answer.

riki furrowed his brows, trying to put his shoes on at the door as you showed him your screen. he eyed the photo before looking back up at you and back at the phone. "you're prettier," he said nonchalantly.

you blinked blankly, slowly raising your phone back to your chest. you were suddenly desperately fighting a wave of fluster from drowning you. you pressed your lips, letting a small huff of amusement slip past your lips. "i don't think that's what other people would say."

riki finished tying his shoelaces, standing up straight. he sighed, taking the phone out of your hands, closing it and putting it into the pocket of your hoodies as he stepped closer to you. his hands moved to hold your cheeks while his brown eyes held yours intently. "it doesn't matter what they think. i think you're prettier. that's all that matters."

your mouth fell open, cheeks warm at his sudden touch. it was as if all the words you had ever learned or read had flown right from your brain and dispersed into the air.

removing his hands from your face, riki grasped your hand tightly. "now come on! we're really going to be late if you keep standing like a gaping fish!"

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[thornsnvultures]

laundry day

eddie munson x plus size!fem!reader

summary: eddie catches you reading something saucy at the laundromat while you wait for your load to finish.

cw: smut (18+, no minors), mutual pining, nipple play, fingering, lil bit of edging, teasing/cocky!eddie (in like a playful way, he's not mean)

a/n: thanks to @ozarkthedog for being super encouraging as always ❤

Just imagining running into Eddie at the laundromat. It's hot outside, a muggy 80 degrees, and he's in cut off jeans that he chopped himself and an Iron Maiden tee. There's industrial size fans blasting from the corners of the room, hanging from the ceiling. They feel like they're blowing hot air around the room more than anything.

When you walk in with your basket he's already there, playing with the claw machine they inexplicably installed at the beginning of summer. Like they didn't have enough machines here already that ate up all your quarters. His head turns briefly when you walk in and you awkwardly wave and say hi out of courtesy. Of course you almost drop your laundry bag but Eddie's surprisingly quick, catching it before it slips out of your hands.

"Careful there." His boyish grin is surprisingly disarming. You find yourself staring at his dimples for a moment too long.

"Right, sorry," you force out a laugh and try not to cringe. Eddie's a bit weird but hot in a way that makes you act a little stupid.

You pick a machine far away from the one that's already running, presumably his, so you don't have to sort out your under-things with him right next to you.

"C'mon, c'mon...Dammit!"

Looking up from your pile of clothes you see Eddie squat in front of the claw machine to put more coins in, the black bandana hanging from his pocket drags on the floor. You can't help but to watch, it's kind of entertaining. His tongue is poked out in concentration, his ringed fingers tapping the stick ever so slightly to nudge the crane into the perfect position. Eddie looks around the sides of the glass box to make sure he's lined up just right and smacks the button to make the grabber drop. He curses when it snags the plushie's arm but doesn't pull it free.

It's been a full minute and a half and you've been standing there holding the same pair of panties, watching him and not sorting a damn thing. You don't have anything else to do today but you can't stand there and ogle either. So you shake your head and get back to it, finally tossing in a load as he loses for the third time since you got here.

You sit down and crack open the book you brought. It looks like he's out of quarters now. You feel kinda bad, he seemed pretty excited about whatever's in there.

He's pacing around the room now, sitting still and waiting for something doesn't seem like a skill he has, and singing to himself. You never thought of Eddie Munson as a singer but you can hear him enough over the machines and he sounds...good.

It's impossible to read with him pacing the room looking like that. With his short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, showing off all his tattoos. And the one on his thigh that you didn't see when you walked in, that one had to be new. You were starting to zone out, thinking about Eddie and his tattoos and your long, long week of working doubles. It was hard saving up enough to get out of this town but you were determined to do it. Even if it left you drained at the end of every week.

A loud bang in front of you had you nearly jumping out of your skin.

"Whatcha reading?"

Eddie smiled at you from atop the washing machine he was now sitting on. You looked down at the cover that he could clearly see, the racy cover showing a fair maiden being ravished by a swoon-worthy, shirtless pirate. With a gasp you closed the book and put it face down in your lap.

"Nothing. It's- I'm not even reading it really, just skimming."

"Looking for all the steamy bits, huh?"

Eddie's shit eating grin made your face feel hot and you sputtered, trying to think of anything that wouldn't make you seem like a weirdo basically reading porn in public.

"Is it any good?"

"What?"

"The book. Is it any good?"

"I, uh...it's okay," you mumbled, messing with the hem of your shorts instead of looking at him. You couldn't. Not with that blinding smile, those dimples and pretty brown eyes making your stomach flip more than any of the bodice-ripping going on between the pages in your lap.

"Just okay? What would make it better?"

Oh god, why is he doing this. You wish he had won the toy from the machine so he could play with that instead of you right now.

When you don't answer Eddie jumps down off the machine and grabs the book from your lap. He ignores your protests as he leafs through the pages.

"You're mine now," the Captain growls at my ear. "Not a prim, proper lady of society. Not aboard my ship."

Eddie's voice changes to that of a grissled pirate as he reads. It's shocking, at first the horror that he's actually reading your book out loud, then how you respond. Your thighs tighten and you swallow, your mouth suddenly gone dry. Eddie's whole posture changes. He stands taller, more confident, like he truly is a grim, dominating pirate who kidnapped Lord Quimbly's only daughter.

Captain Blackburn roughly pushed up my skirts, bending me over his massive oak desk. I'd never felt more exposed and completely at someone else's mercy. Before I knew it, his manhood was pressing into me there, breaking me, ruining me for all others.

"Okay, wait, hold on," Eddie's teasing grin and dramatic tone vanished by the end of the passage. His brows furrowed as his finger traced the page and he read it again to himself. "That's it? He's just whipping it out and going to town? Breaking and ruining her? Fuckin' hell. I see what you mean." Eddie shook his head, flipping through more of the book.

"I mean, it's not great. But aren't most dudes like that anyway?" You laugh but it's true, the dudes you've been with in the past haven't cared much for seeing to your needs. Eddie, however, looks personally offended.

"They shouldn't be."

Eddie handed you back your book, not that you wanted to go back to reading it now anyway.

"Are you like that?"

The question slipped out before you could stop it. And you felt like you already knew the answer.

"Am I like what?"

"Other guys."

Eddie's playful smirk was back. Maybe you did want to be a toy for him to play with after all.

"Want me to show you? Hmm?" Eddie reaches out with one ringed finger and tips your chin up to look at him. "Want me to take care of you like those other guys couldn't?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." Your eyes search his, for what you don't know. For him to tell you what you want so you don't have to admit to yourself you want him to rail you at the laundromat while no one's around? Maybe.

"Tell me. Tell me you want me to make you come."

"Yes. Please."

Your desperate little plea is all he needs to hear apparently because in the next second he's pulling you up on your feet and kissing you. Eddie's mouth is hungry on yours, devouring yours. Turning in his arms, you jump up on to the washing machine and pull him closer. The metal is a welcome cold against your sweat slick thighs and Eddie's even more welcome between them. You scoot to the edge of the machine to grind against the bulge pushing against his zipper.

"Please, Eddie." You don't mean to sound so whiny, but you want him to keep his promise. You want him to make you feel good, to make you come.

"Shh, I'm here. There's no one else. I've got you," his words whispered in between kisses along your neck makes your spine tingle. He's got that same air of dominance as when he was reading your book and it's got you soaking through your cotton shorts.

Eddie's hands massage your breast, tugging at your nipple until your writhing against him. The ridge of his denim covered cock provides just enough friction for you to come from just this. His lips leaving love bites where anyone can see, his fingers pulling and squeezing to the point of pain, a pain that shoots straight to your clit. Just one more second and he'd have you screaming, but all at once he pulls away.

"Eddie," you sob, "don't stop, please."

"I've barely touched you and you're almost in tears," his mocking tone would piss you off if his touch wasn't so gentle. Holding your face so delicately, pressing soft kisses to your jaw like he didn't just bring you to the edge only to pull you away.

"Please, Eddie."

"Love the way you beg for me. So pretty when you beg."

Eddie's nose rubs against your jaw, nuzzling against you like a cat. You wouldn't be surprised if he started purring.

He nudges your thighs open a little wider, squeezing them and groaning at the way his fingers dig into your flesh.

"Next time you're gonna let me get my face between these thighs, princess. It's already killing me not to sink my teeth into 'em."

"Next time?"

Eddie looks you dead in the eyes, watches them roll back, and cups your pussy over your shorts.

"Next time. Because this is mine now."

You kiss him again then because, fuck, no one's every looked at you like that. Like you were worth keeping, like you were worth a next time. No one's fucked you in an empty laundromat either, but it looked like Eddie was full of surprises.

"It's yours," you press your forehead to his, trying to stop your head from spinning. "Make me come."

Eddie slips his hand into your shorts and curses.

"No panties? You've been sitting here this whole time with no panties on?"

"Stop saying panties. And yes, it's laundry day," you shrug like it's no big deal, which it isn't, but Eddie looks like he's about to pop five different blood vessels.

"You're in so much trouble," he groans as his fingers slip down to your soaked cunt. Your hole clenches around his finger tip like it's begging for him to push it in and he listens. Eddie fills you up with one, then two of his thick fingers. Teasing, spreading, stretching you open until you're writhing again. Your hips twist in time with his palm rubbing against your clit and it's heaven. He feels so fucking good and you tell him over and over until you're not sure you're saying words anymore.

Anyone could walk in and see the two of you at any time and it only makes you squeeze tighter around his fingers. Getting caught like this, spread open for Eddie like a whore while he bullies your cunt with his fat fingers. You're ruined for anyone else. Not like your book, with its heroine terrified of ruination, of being seen as dirty or less than. No you're ruined for ever being treated as less than, for accepting that no man will take the time to make you feel as amazing as you feel right now.

"Eddie, I'm gonna- oh god."

Your legs shake, you're right there. Eddie pulls his soaking wet fingers from inside you and you want to fucking scream, but he taps your clit and starts rubbing furious circles over the oversensitive nub.

"Come for me, show me."

His deep voice in your ear and the relentless pressure on your clit have you flying off the edge. Your body tensing, folding in on itself, all the air rushing out of your lungs as you implode from your release.

And Eddie holds you and kisses you and wipes his fingers on his shirt which should be gross but you don't care. It's laundry day, anyway.

"I meant it. You're mine. Not letting you tiptoe around me anymore."

"I don't tiptoe," you mumble into his neck. Your legs wrap around his waist as he settles between your thighs again. He's still painfully hard but it seems like he's fine with you clinging to him like a koala for now.

The washer buzzes under you, making you jump. Eddie doesn't want to let you go at first, but you give him an ultimatum that kicks his butt into gear.

"Help me finish my laundry and I'll blow you in your van." You look up at him through your lashes and laugh when he scrambles to pull you off the machine.

[omarera]

This became along summary of the panel discussion at YOU + MUSIC at Fryshuset with the theme of fan relationships. It was a really nice discussion and we got some glimpses on how he and the team are working. Below is a summary and some reflections.

How he has gotten to know his fans over the years and the vibe is intensive. And his team (Wille Hagelin, TEN,) adds that it takes long time for artists to develop their own vision and thats it´s important to base the content on yourself and the artists own interests, be genuine.

Omar comments to some plattforms:

Instagram is causul and chill

TikTok is more edits, goofy and Omar dares to be personal, be himself, be a bit vulnerable, he feels shy sometimes and do not post all things he finds cringe, but says its important to be able to laugh at yourself and put yourself out there.

Facebook he is not as active on but his team mirrors his posts on FB, more informative.

Twitter is more rough but still goofy and personal, more in the spur of the moment.

Wille says that Omar has alot of his own ideas and also Elektra have ideas on what they think will work. They discuss a lot back and forth but the artists always have a say to be comfortable, and be in touch with himself and that it feels right. The dialogue with Elektra seems great and him as an artist is in centre and the artists vision is respected but Omar says that it is also important that they use the knowledge of Elektra and listen to them and find a common ground. Elektra are fair and reasonable, mutual respect as I understood it.

Omar also says that the most important thing is the music and what you put out, image is fun, but in the end of the day it’s about the music you put out. And artists shouldn’t be so hard on themself but just put things out. Omar says he is very hard on himself and the struggle behind the releases are not something the fans see. And when you post you still have to own it and stand up for it. Time flies fast and imortant to get the music out, it will never be perfect, release when you feel it´s good and don’t wait and work on it too long for it to be perfect.

Also nice to hear him say he doesn’t feel that he has to please the fans and constantly be available. He works a lot and feels more pressure to be available in his professional contacts and work. Seems the schedule is hectic and he has stepped up his commitments. He says he zones out when he needs, sometimes its too much and he needs breaks, he meets friends, go to the gym (almost every day) and make sure to make time for himself.

Also love he says he loves to be daring and give a shock and wow effect, and just be unapologetically himself and do his own thing without caring to much how it will be received. He also gets the question of cancel culture and his team steps in and says that his values are so grounded that they are not scared of that and that it would have shown already. And Omar also says he’s not scared of being cancelled since he knows himself and his values. But he is scared of getting misinterpreted and that it has happened for example when he was a teenager. And that is extremely hard since internet will always love and judge and internet will never forget. it will always pop up. It doesn’t matter how many times you clarify or say you’re sorry, it will not be accepted or forgotten. Then it´s very important to know your own values and what you stand for.

And so nice to hear there is 3 step plan for him and that there are so many things that needs to be in place to be able to play and be present on other markets, like Latin America. Things are coming!!!

How do you get fans to engage and stay connected? Music is the core and also to create spaces and give back to fans in different ways, meet new greets, cards, be present on SM and comment on posts and create a communication with fans. He hopes he gives happiness and joy to listeners and that it is giving and taking.

What is the best with your fans? The best is that they are real. And I love he changes the way he talks here and address the fans as you, not talking about them as the fans but address by saying you. He likes that fans are passionated, love what he does and him but also that they react real and are open and let him know if he is out of line or the outfit didn’t work for example. That the fans also show tough love and are real and open. I think this is one thing that makes him have a natural connection to the fans, he is not afraid of them and appreciate their feedback and can also get to know them and act on that. We know he gets alot of “tough love” and people have opinions on basically everything he does.

And so beautiful that a fan thanked him for YR and that it helped them understanding their sexuality.It was beautiful and also shows how open the relationship to fans are. They also dare to express themselves and be genuine.

And he admits he has a stalker account, obviously.

Also like his answer on the question if he regrets things in his career or have things he wished he had done differently. And he says ofc he has but its easy to say in hindsight and its important to dare to make mistakes and go for things and do what feels right in the moment, And learn.

He really emphasises all the time the importance to be true to oneself and just dare to be oneself and genuine.

[ccswife]

Scoring Love

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pairing๛: kate martin x bballplayer!reader

synopsis๛: playing basketball with your bestfriend has its perks.

warnings๛: angst if u squint? fluff!

requested by @rimunagenius <3

kinda proofread

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listen to this while reading if u want :D

Laborious. thats the only way you could describe todays practice. coach bluder was in a particularly snotty mood, as she was very disappointed in the performance you guys put up game against rutgers yesterday . you lost count of the amount of full court suicides everyone has done so far. all you could think about was the cold shower you were gonna take after this was over. looking over at the clock on the score board, the time reads 8:17am— which means there's roughly thirteen minutes left of practice.

"Y/L/N!" coach bluder suddenly screams from across the court, clearly angry. "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY LOOKING AT THE CLOCK RIGHT NOW? WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THAT?!" bluders bone-chilling yell eco’s for what seems like eons. everyone turns to look at you, some with an empathetic look and others with annoyance as this definitely meant that the team was gonna run 5 more full court suicides.

“i- im sorry it was absent minded” you cringe on the inside after speaking up, knowing that a) she would just continue to yell about the time b) make you run more without saying anything more than a shake of the head or c) turn it into a lesson of basketball and strategy. it ended up being option c. bluder started to talk, sorry- yell about how everyone was too busy being absent minded on the court during lower competition games, and how every game is important no matter how much you win by and blah blah blah. you kinda tuned it out after she said the phrase “locked in” for the fifth time. it seemed that some of the other girls started to zone out as well, mostly the starters. the bench players didn’t dare to tune her on-going speech out, in fear of potentially being picked on extra since they dont play as much. which, kudos to them! they took it very seriously. that doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t care, but you knew she wouldn’t consider taking you off the starting line-up unless you did something so unfathomably stupid. you meant too much. you, were the tape. and the tape needed glue.

practice finished at exactly 9:00am, bluder keeping you guys in the gym an extra thirty minutes. this actually wasn’t that bad, considering one time she was SO angry that she held you guys two extra hours. everyone hit the showers and got home as fast as they could, not wanting to stick around any longer then they already had. you ended up being one of the last to shower, though. you felt kind of guilty for practice, so you let some underclassman and bench players go in before you. that being said, it wasn’t just you who felt guilty. your best friend did too. kate martin, the one and only #20 let some girls go in-front of her too and ended up being the only one with you. but this was pretty usual— being together i mean. you two were peas in a pod, birds of a feather, partners in crime! it had been that way since forever.

sounds of running water and the opening/closing of bottles filled the echoey bathroom as you and kate showered (not together, reader. get ur mind out of the gutter). even though the silence was given due to the situation, you were content. sometimes the two of you didn’t need words to communicate, and just the silence did what you needed. kate cleared her throat,

“y/n? you’re there still right?” her voice soft and seemingly- worried? you’ve heard this tone before, right before she told you she failed a test you helped her study for. it was her ‘please dont be mad at me’ voice. “ yea im here still, whats up k? the last time you sounded like that is when you told me you failed the anatomy test.” you continued to suds up your hair, waiting for kate to reply.

“well soooo i have to ask you something,” she sounded completely different now, like she was about to get a new puppy. it was honestly quite adorable— but that sentence stopped you right in your tracks. ‘ask me something??’ multiple scenarios reeled through your mind before you could answer, and kate (growing impatient) spoke up again. “helllooooo? aw dont tell me you already got out” quickly you replied with enthusiasm, to cover up your worry for what was about to come out of her mouth. “ nono! what d’ya have to ask me? my ring size? because it’s a 6. but i dont think bluder would like me playing with a rock on my finger, just saying” kate snorted from her shower. you guys have joked about getting married for years now, and you even made a pact so that if you both aren’t married by thirty, you’ll marry eachother. after snickering to yourself, you shut off the shower and wrapped yourself up into a towel. kate continued to shower and took a beat before finally popping the question (marry me?). “i have this event i have to go to right? its a reunion type of thing with me and my teammates from highschool,”

“my teammates and i” you interjected. she hates when you correct her grammar.

“ yea yea whatever, so basically we all have an option of bringing a plus one and all of them are bringing their girlfriends and some boyfriends.” again you cut her off. “k are you asking me to be your pretend girlfriend?” you were genuinely freaking out, and thank the lord above you got out and got dressed before her because boy if she saw the look on your face….sheesh. kate shut the shower off and continued frantically. “no! not at all! i just dont wanna be the only person without a plus one, and who better to bring than my googly bear?” she laughed at her own joke and stepped out in fresh clothes, brushing her hair while walking towards you. you giggle at the nickname and blow a kiss at her. she catches it, and places in on her cheek. “ of course, my baby boo! what time is this event?” she shows a toothy smile, the one she always does around you and grabs your hand. she starts rubbing the palm of your hand and answers “ 7:00pm, my queen. i’ll pick you up at 6?” your lip curls as you slap her hand away. “we live together, you doofus” kate makes a surprised face and jumps up. “ no way?! seriously!? omg thats so fun! lets go home!!!”. you share a laugh before picking all your stuff up to go home to your shared apartment.

the rest of the day goes normally, running errands, eating, studying together and picking out clothes for this reunion thing. the clock strikes 5, and you start to get ready. kate said its semi-formal, so you pick out a gray babydoll dress, with wedges that weren’t too tall. they made you taller, obviously, but not too tall were you were above kates height. she likes that you’re shorter than her, says that it boost her ego. anyways, you curl your hair and put on a natural layer of makeup— natural enough where it wasn’t too heavy but not were you couldn’t tell you were wearing anything. spraying some perfume, and taking a handbag from your closet, you check the clock and head out to the living room. kate is sitting on the couch on her phone, in a black blazer and pants, with a white crop underneath it. shes manspreading and good god does she look good. before you walked all the way in, you stood there and gawked for a second. breathing a little too loud, kate looks up and notices you standing there. now its her turn to gawk, because ohhhh the things she could say to you right now. it almost brought her down to one knee.

she gets up and makes her way over to you. “y/n,” she places a hand on your waist, pulling you just a little closer. the two of you lock eyes and she smirks. “you look so beautiful, im serious” her smile only widens as you blush. “ ohh stopppp” you lean your head against her shoulder, grabbing her bicep and giggle, slightly lifting your leg up. kate steps back and admires you some more while you look around. she admires how the wedges you wear perfectly accentuate the muscles in your legs from years of basketball and hard work, how your makeup perfectly compliments all of your features, and how the curls in your hair frame your face so gorgeously. she seriously could kiss you right now, hell— she had to stop herself from smothering you when she grabbed your waist. checking the time again, you realize its six, and you usher kate out to the car so you can beat traffic. when you arrive, you see some of kates old teammates and their partners standing at the front, waiting for everyone to arrive. you all make your greetings, and kate introduces you to everyone.

upon going in, you find that one of the girls made a reservation and you were immediately sat down. kate lets you slide in first, and slides in next to you, making sure your leg is touching hers. conversation continues, all talking about how their college experience was and how jobs are, etc. etc. eventually appetizers were ordered and one of the girls, anna, asks all of the couples how they are. when anna gets to you two, she says “ and you two? are you a couple?” she had the sweetest smile on her face as she asked. before you could answer, kate blurts out “yes! we are”

you immediately kick her leg under the table, keeping a smile on your face. anna continued around the table and crinkle your nose at kate. in a low whisper, you say in her ear “ i thought i wasn’t going to be your pretend girlfriend, martin” she side eyes you but is unable to answer as another girl asks her a question about basketball. quickly, you stand up and excuse yourself to the restroom. shortly after you go in, a knock is heard on the door. its kate, of course.

“y/n please open it, i need to talk to you,” you stand there for a second before she speaks through the door again. “you’re not seriously angry right? i didn’t mean to say that i swear, it just came out.” you let out a loud sigh before unlocking the door, letting her in and locking it again— just incase. kate looks at you and starts to explain. “ i dont know why i said that and im soooo sorry. i guess i felt pressured to have a girlfriend so i just said it was you. i know i told you you wouldn’t be my pretend girlfriend and i meant that, but this was not supposed to happen” you stare back at her, thinking of what to say. were you angry? sure, a little. but your real problem was that she wasn’t your actual girlfriend, and that she acted like one and hell! even called you her girlfriend but shes too pussy to actually ask you to be official! i mean seriously. you guys constantly joke about dating and getting married, and you guys act so coupley, how has she not gotten the hint? finally , you decide to speak up. “are you that oblivious kate? do you really not know why im actually mad?” she stares at you with a “idk” look amd shrugs her shoulders, sticking her tongue into the side of her mouth as she thinks. “ im mad because— because! you act like my girlfriend and we even make jokes about dating and shit, and you still dont see how i feel about you! i love you kate!! and not platonically like we’ve been saying it for all these years!” tears start to stream down your face, this conversation being long awaited by you. “i just, cant understand why you wont make it official! unless i’ve completely read you wrong, which im sure i didn’t because i know you like the back of my hand, i think the feelings are requited!” now the tears are really coming down. you lean against the sink and put your face in your hands, trying to hide and wipe the tears off your wet cheeks. kate stands still before lifting your head up. now you see shes crying, too. “of course i love you more than platonically, y/n. i’ve never loved someone so much, and if i could marry you right now i would. i just didn’t know if you loved me back. you know how i get in my head. and i couldn’t go to you to help me because then i’d have to tell you everything.” now shes cupping your cheek in her hand, and the two of you are staring into each other’s glistening eyes. again, she puts her hand on your waist and smiles. “ y/n , please please please accept my apology…” she takes a pregnant pause before continuing, your eyebrows raise in curiosity. “ and…. will you, officially, be mine?” you laugh, and more tears come out. grasping her arms, you whisper-cry “yes, yes of course kate” she pulls you in closer and kisses you, hard and passionately. nothings ever felt so good before. it may seem cliche, but sparks flew in that tiny restaurant bathroom.

kate pulls away and kisses you on the forehead. “ im gonna go tell them we have to take a rain-check, the you’re not feeling well, alright love?” shes never looked so beautiful than when shes calling you love and actually means it.

“of course, my googly bear” you smile sweetly at her, and she pulls you in for one more kiss before going out to tell the other girls that you’re leaving. you slide against the wall a little bit, and touch your lips.

gosh, you really scored at love, didn’t you?

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A/N q(❂‿❂)p : AHHHHH!!!!!! I REALLY LIKE THIS ONE HEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEE! rimunagenius i hope you like this i tried my best with the request you gave! i know its not rlly that basketbally lmao 😔myb. im actually lowkey proud of myself guys 😌👊. let me know what you guys think! also send more requests for other people (and kate too but other people as well lollll). thats it. googbye hamsters in my phone <3. TOODLES

[axelsagewrites]

James Potter*Misunderstandings

Pairing: James Potter x f!reader

Word count: 1661

Can be read as a part two to heroic deed here

Warnings: none

Masterlist here

Being shy and friends with James Potter was already a struggle since he was anything but however you had a new issue now; you’d fallen heads over heels for him. you didn’t need a man to save you but ever since James defended you from those bullies it was hard not to like him.

Before when you walked through corridors you would get constantly shoulder checked and shoved but James had no issues shoving back and soon you found yourself being able to walk the halls without almost getting tackled.

James had also introduced you to the marauders who thankfully weren’t as intimidating as you first thought. Maybe it was because of how tall Remus was or the ladies’ man reputation Sirius had but you didn’t expect to be in a heated debate over breakfast over which magical creature would be the best at quidditch.

“You cannot be serious mate! How would a phoenix even hold a snitch?”

“Oh yeah cause a hippogriff has great dexterity!”

Remus and Sirius continued to bicker as you silently ate your breakfast. Remus was across from you next to Peter while James was sat next to you, Sirius next to him. Peter had ‘borrowed’ Remus’s homework while he was distracted, though you weren’t convincing Sirius didn’t start this conversation as a decoy, while James just laughed at his two idiot friends.

“You, okay?” he whispered, snapping you from your daze.

Shit you’d been caught staring, quickly say something, you mentally cursed yourself, “Yeah um just not a morning problem,”

“Alright sunshine I’ll leave you to daydream,” James laughed, your skin heating up at his words while he tried to buy into the argument.

-

You and Remus both shared your first class of the day so after the squabbling stopped you both set off to the third floor. “You ever gonna tell him you like him?” Remus asked as if he was asking for the time.

“What? Like who?” you stuttered but Remus just gave you a knowing look, “How did you know?” you sighed.

Remus snorted, a grin playing his lips, “Cmon seriously? yous hang out all the time. you should just ask him out,” he shrugged and your eyes basically bulged out your skull.

“I cant do that. He doesn’t like me like that-“

“Has he ever told you that?” he said making you stop in your tracks.

Remus eventually paused, staring at the confused look on your face, “Do you know something I don’t know?”

Remus sighed, “I know the last girl James asked out embarrassed him in front of the whole common room, which to be fair was his fault for asking so loudly,” Remus said, cringing at the memory of James proclaiming his love for lily in front of everyone and getting told a very quick no. hell even you had heard of the story, “and now he doesn’t talk about that shit anymore but if you ask me I think he does. He never shuts up about you,” Remus said, half rolling his eyes, “No offence,”

“None taken,”

-

All you could really think about all day was what Remus had said. James even had to ask if you were okay over dinner because how ‘zoned out’ you had been. “I need to return some books to the library,” you said, deciding to end your misery but James didn’t get the memo.

“I’ll come with. See ya,” he said, nodding to the guys and instantly getting up to follow you.

You tried your best to make small talk, but you could feel your palms getting sweatier with each word. After leaving the library you decided to finally do something about it, “Hey you busy this Saturday?” you asked, trying your best not to stutter.

“Eh I don’t think so. No detentions yet at least,” he joked, “how come?”

“Was just wondering if you’d wanna go to Hogsmeade with me?” you said, your cheeks instantly heating up like crazy.

The smile of James face though made your own heart skip, “Yeah sure. I’ll say to the guys yeah?” and just like that it sunk instantly.

“Oh yeah sure totally,”

-

To say your confidence had been knocked was an understatement and the whole walk down to Hogsmeade you were hanging at the back of the group trying not to show how much you were internally sulking. Yous went to honey dukes first, picking up a few bits and bobs all while Remus was giving you a sympathetic smile and James was none the wiser.

“He’s just clueless you know,” Remus whispered to you at the shelves while James went up to the till, “He probably didn’t even realise you were asking him out,”

“Or maybe he just didn’t wanna hurt my feelings,” you mumbled, instantly shutting up when James walked back. “Watcha get?”

“Chocolate frogs, of course. got you one too here,” he said passing you the frogs while Remus gave you a ‘see? told you so’ look.

-

Soon you all ended up piling into a booth at the three broom sticks. Remus and Peter were on one side while you, James, and Sirius squeezed into the other. Luckily you got to be on the side not against the wall however because of the tight squeeze you were pressed right into James side. There was nothing you could’ve done though, there wasn’t an empty seat in the place.

“You’d think for a magical pub they could make more seats,” Sirius scoffed as he crammed himself against the wall. “Its your turn for first round Peter,” he said.

Peter rolled his eyes, “Do you keep tabs or something?”

“Yes,” Sirius said, and it honestly wouldn’t shock you if he had it all written down in a notebook. “I’ll take a butterbeer,”

When Peter asked you what you wanted you offered to go with him to help him carry it but also as an excuse to get away from James. Peter however was glad to accept the help.

-

Meanwhile Remus was slapping James across the head as you walked out of sight. “You dumbass,”

“What?!” James squeaked, rubbing his head, “and ow! By the way,”

“This was supposed to be a date,” Remus half hissed making Sirius look between the two.

“Since when did you do go out?”

“We don’t,” James rolled his eyes, “what are you on about? She invited us all to come here?”

Even Sirius dropped his head into his hand at this point, “Think about what she said,” Remus sighed, “Did she say ‘you guys’ or ‘you’?”

James head tilted as he thought before a small ‘oh’ came from his lips followed by a very annoyed, “fuck!” while Remus and Sirius groaned at their friends obliviousness, “What do I do now? Should yous leave or-“

“No that just makes it weird,”

“Then what do I do?!”

“Shut up since she’s walking back here,” Sirius said, jabbing his elbow into his ribs, “Hey guys!” he said, way louder and happier than normal making both you and Peter share a concerned look.

-

James spent the rest of the afternoon beating himself up. He’d liked you from the first day he met you, hating that he hadn’t met you sooner and now he’d gone and fucked it up. He was distracted the rest of the day and while the group was walking back to the grounds he found himself hanging back a bit.

You noticed and decided to drop back as well, “Hey you okay?” you asked, genuine concern on your face making James’s heart melt.

“Can I ask you something?” he said giving you an odd sense of De Ja Vu, “See the other day did you mean that you wanted us all to go or like just us?” he said, voice trailing off when you looked away.

What he hadn’t expected was to see your eyes watering when you looked back, “Don’t worry about it, it was dumb and-“you began to ramble but James stopped in his tracks, grabbing your wrist making you turn to face him. “I’m sorry,”

“No, I am,” James said, stepping closer, “I was an asshole I didn’t know,” he sighed, looking at the ground, “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted it to be just us?”

You shuffled on your feet, trying desperately not to look in his eyes, “Just didn’t want you to laugh at me or something,”

James felt his heart shatter, “I wouldn’t have laughed,” he said making you finally look up from the ground, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,”

“It’s not,” James sighed, staring off in the distance making you squirm in anticipation, “You busy tomorrow?”

“Um I don’t think so- “

“Great! Good great um quidditch practise ends at 2,” James said as he began to ramble, “So I’ll come get you at half 2 and we can go back to Hogsmeade tomorrow. Just us yeah?” he said, finally looking back at you with a hopeful smile.

“Like a date?” you asked, your own lips tugging into a small smile.

James grinned at your reaction, “Yeah like a real date. Without those losers,” he said making you laugh, “I wanna do it right okay?”

“Okay,” you said, “It’s a date,”

“Great,” James said, breaking out into a cheesy smile when suddenly you both heard whooping and wolf whistles behind you, “Oh fuck off,” James groaned as you began to laugh.

Sirius all but ran over, flinging his arm around James’s shoulder, “Fucking finally mate told you to just ask her,”

“You don’t get the credit for this!” Remus butted in, totally offended by Sirius’s comment, “I made this happen!”

“Nu uh,”

“Yu uh,”

As the two began to bicker you suddenly felt James take your hand. You looked at him, eyes wide but he just gave you a small smile as he tugged on your hand, leading you away from his nutcase friends. “Walk me back to my dorm?” you asked.

James grinned down at you, “Always,”

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Heroic Deeds tags: @layla2-49

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be | ll

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your expectations aren't met when Eli doesn't ask you to the dance. You're left heartbroken for a multitude of reasons and Eli wonders if he can fix it.

Warnings: bullying, slut shaming, mentions of violence

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Here's part two! I'm enjoying the story so far and I hope you do to! Make sure that if you want to see more of this story to comment and reblog! Comments let me know what you like about the story and reblogs help others see the story! Thanks!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“Cyberbullying is no laughing matter,” Counselor Blatt said into the mic.

You cringed as you listened to Counselor Blatt talk about bullying, specifically targeting Eli with her “a mother called about her kid crying with a facial deformity” statement. 

Was she really that oblivious? 

You sent a reassuring glance Eli’s way, your smile causing him to drop his hand from his mouth. 

He tipped a small smile towards you and you reached for his hand under the table. A small gesture you both have been doing more and more.

“This Friday is our Halloween dance,” the counselor continued. 

You half-zoned in on her announcement of dressing in appropriate and inclusive costumes. You thought to yourself about your costume, part of you hoping Eli would like it. Speaking of which, you hoped he would actually ask you to the dance. 

It had been a week since you both confessed your feelings for each other. While you enjoyed the hand-holding, you were still waiting on a date. Maybe you should ask him out, you tend to think to yourself. But you never had the guts to. 

“You should come by my karate dojo tonight,” Miguel told Eli. “We’re still looking for recruits”.

Eli smiled, nodding slightly.

“Hear that Eli?” Demetri began to speak with sarcasm. “You’re gonna learn to kick some ass with a little karate training,” he beamed, making movements with his hands.

You frowned slightly just as Eli dropped his smile and pulled his hand away from yours. His mind already rethinking the possibility of actually joining a karate dojo.

You chewed on your lip, pulling your hand back in your lap, trying not to dwell on the ache it left in your chest.

“Still no luck on your sketchbook?” Miguel turned to you after the announcements were done.

“Nope, checked the lost and found, all my classes,” you huffed. 

You were pacing the entire weekend, waiting until you arrived at school this morning. You even had your mom drop you off at the earliest time to search for it.

“I’m sure it’ll turn up,” Eli reassured. 

You nodded just as your gaze briefly brushed over the popular table, your bullies snickering your way. That feeling found its way into your gut again but you looked away, hoping to ignore it. 

As the bell rang, you picked up your stuff and said bye to Miguel and Demetri while Eli fell into step beside you. 

“I’ll meet you after school?” Eli asked when he walked you to class.

“For sure,” you clutched your books to your chest. 

You forced a smile, trying not to let your regret show. This was a perfect time to ask you. Why didn’t he? You wondered. 

Sitting at your desk, you dropped your head into your folded arms, hoping you weren’t giving up on the idea too easily.

He had a week to ask you, there was plenty of time.

~

You sighed as you stared in the mirror, placing the last flower in your hair. 

Eli didn’t ask you out to the dance.

While you were sad about it, the hopeful feeling in your heart deflating, you didn’t want to let not having a date ruin your chances of a fun night so you got yourself ready. 

After your dad had dropped you off, you walked through the gym doors and stuffed your phone into your pocket, thankful your skirt had them.

The boys’ gaze found yours and you grinned as you made your way towards them.

“Frida Khalo?” Miguel asked, the corner of his lip turning upward when he pinpointed your costume. 

“Yup,” you smirked, twirling in your skirt.

The movement and vivid color of your skirt entranced the guys, Eli taking a minute longer to bring his attention back to you. 

You smiled to yourself, thankful the dark gym did well to hide your flusteredness.

“Nice costume by the way,” you grinned, complimenting Miguel’s skeleton costume. “What are you guys?”

“Necromancer,” Demetri said.

“I’m a plastic surgeon, I fix lips,” Eli stuttered through the mask, glancing down at the end.

While he was wearing his mask to hide his lip, you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful his eyes were. The blue of his scrubs only illuminated how bright his blue orbs were.

You averted your gaze, staring out to the dance floor. 

“To think we traded our movie night for this,” Demetri exhaled while you stood by the bleachers.

“It could be fun,” Miguel disagreed. “We should ask those girls to dance,” he nodded to the three girls out on the dance floor dressed as Dragon Queens.

“Dancing could be fun,” you added, glancing at Eli. 

“We should go before we lose our chance,” Miguel encouraged, siding with you but the two boys showed a lot of reluctance.

When the girls found other dance partners a moment later and Eli remained silent, you knew you’d be standing here all night. 

“I’m gonna get a snack,” you pressed your lips together, walking over to the snack table.

You weaved through the crowd, your eyes set on the cheese platter at the table.

“Dude, you should’ve asked Y/N to dance,” Miguel scolded, hitting his arm. 

“She didn’t want to dance,” Eli said, watching you walk away. “She’s not a dancer,”.

He figured he was right, he knew you best out of the three of them.

“Does it matter? She wanted to dance with you,” Miguel sighed, rolling his eyes. “You missed your chance,”.

Eli glanced down as regret bubbled in him. 

“Don’t you guys like each other?” Demetri butted in. “Y/N isn’t getting the message, I mean look how hurt she looks,” the three of them turned to look at you. 

You had your arms crossed as you looked over the food at the table. While they were talking to themselves, you were contemplating where you went wrong that Eli didn’t like you anymore. 

If he still liked you, he would’ve asked you out, right?

“It’s still new, we haven’t even kissed,” Eli shrugged, staring at you. “What if she doesn’t want to kiss me because of my lip?” he voiced a concern.

“You’d be closer to kissing if you actually show her you like her,” Demetri explained. 

“She’s probably doubting herself, you have to make the move,” Miguel said. “Strike first, remember?” he jabbed his fists.

Eli nodded, hiking his shoulders up as he inhaled. It was a lost cause, hiding behind his mask wasn’t giving him the courage he thought he needed.

You chewed on your lip when you briefly met Eli’s eyes at the other end of the gym. Your mind was plagued with thoughts. From how much you wanted to ask him out to how much you were hurt by him.

Throwing your napkin away, you almost bumped into someone, your face recognizing Aisha.

“Nice sodium costume,” you complimented, hoping a friendly conversation will give you the much-needed distraction. 

The antennas she wore on her head were cute.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “What is your costume exactly?” She pointed at you, her face contorted in confusion.

“I’m Frida Khalo,” you answered. “It would make more sense with the unibrow and mustache but frankly, I didn’t want to give Yasmine a chance to make fun of me, so,” you trailed, pressing your lips together. 

It would’ve tied it all together but you could already hear the comments coming from her. You wished you had the confidence to ignore it but sadly, you didn’t. 

“No, I get it,” she sent you a reassuring smile. “It’s a cool costume by the way,” she grinned. 

“Thanks,” you beamed. “Is it cool if I chill here? My friends are kinda boring,” you snickered. 

You glanced at the three, watching as they sipped on their drinks. 

“You’re welcome to stay, but it’s not much of a party over here,” she raised a brow, gesturing around. 

“It’s okay, I think what I really need is some feminine energy,” you giggled. 

You didn’t have a single girl friend your entire life. You stuck to Eli and Demetri all your life. That didn’t mean there weren’t moments where you wished you had one female friend with whom you could have sleepovers and do all those girly things they did in movies. 

As you spoke to the girl in front of you, you thought she was the perfect person to finally share that with.

“Every girl needs that once in a while,” she nodded. 

“This might sound a bit forward, but do you want to hang out sometime?” You wrung your fingers together, gripping onto the ounce of confidence you felt.

She blinked in joy, quick to reply. “Yeah, that would be fun!” 

“Great, I have you on Insta so I’ll DM you,” you said. “I gotta get back to the guys, but I’ll see you,” you bid before you turned around.

Making your way back to the guys, you were filled with hope, and excitement.

“I made a friend,” you squealed. “A female one!” 

“Looks like Y/N’s had more luck with women than us tonight,” Miguel shook his head.

You frowned. “Don’t give up just yet, the night is still young!” you encouraged. “There are plenty of girls waiting to be asked to dance,” you glanced out at the floor again but your eyes trained on Eli, hoping your encouraging speech was connecting dots in his head. 

“I think it’s best to scope out here the rest of the night,” Demetri said before going back to his drink. 

You frowned but Eli handed you a cup and you pressed a smile, deciding to join them in their wallowing for a little bit. 

But when thirty minutes passed and there were no signs of Eli making a move, you grew defeated once more. 

“Is anyone going to ask a girl out to dance?” you hiked your shoulders up, staring at the three. 

“I kinda gotta go to the bathroom, this punch ran straight through me,” Demetri dodged your question. 

You dropped your head. 

“Same here,” Eli agreed. 

“I think I’m gonna go,” you played with your fingers, pointing to the exit behind you. “I’m gonna call my mom to pick me up,”.

“You sure, Y/N?” Miguel asked. 

“Yeah, unless you guys are gonna do more than stand at the punch bowl all night?” your tone rang with obviousness. 

“Admit it, Y/N, we’re not the guys that ask pretty girls to dance,” Demetri stated. 

Your arms dropped to your sides and you glanced at Miguel and Eli, both of their faces reading in agreement.

“Okay,” you gulped, pain circling behind your eyes as tears threatened to form. “Well, good night,” you bid the boys, sending Eli a look before you walked out. 

To think he actually liked you. Who were you kidding?

You went home that night heartbroken. 

~

Eli: are you okay? You haven’t answered any of our messages.

He watched as another text was read by you but was left unanswered. 

Hopping off his bike, he made his way to your front door, ringing the doorbell before your dad opened the door. 

“She doesn’t want to see you,” he narrowed his gaze at him. 

“Sir, I’m not even sure what I did,” he gulped. “I just want to talk,” he tried to reason.

“I’m sorry, son, but I can’t let you. You’ll see her at school on Monday,” he bid him goodnight before shutting the door.

Unsatisfied, he sent you another text before walking over to your window. 

He was thankful your room was on the first floor just as he brought his fist to the window. Through the curtains, he could see the light of your room and your shadow moving about the room. 

Anticipation filled him as the shadow approached but it quickly fell when the light dimmed out, signaling you didn’t want to talk. 

You heard his footsteps fade away and that’s when you laid back down, deciding it was best to sleep the rest of the weekend away.

The next day, you found yourself at school. You kept your conversation cut with the guys, especially Eli, your heart hurting every time you looked at him. 

What you weren’t expecting to see at school though was a beaten-up Miguel. Apparently, Kyler and his gang cornered him at the dance when you had left. 

It was brutal.

“I think what you did was brave,” you said, countering Demetri’s point that it was bad karate was boosting Miguel’s confidence. “You actually took a shot even if you knew things could take a bad turn,” you pressed your lips tightly.

The boys shared a glance before turning to Eli. 

“Yeah, for sure,” Miguel trailed. 

“I thought it was cool that you stood up to Kyler,” Eli glanced at him with a small smile. 

“Are you insane? Take it this way, what is the best superpower to have?” Demetri began one of his tangents to prove a point.

“Super-strength,” Miguel answered easily. 

“Wrong,” Demetri disagreed. “Invisibility, or super-speed to run away really fast,” he moved back to his work.

“Run away from who?” Kyler’s presence was made.

All four of you stilled. 

“We were just leaving,” you all grabbed your things, making a move to run but Kyler got Eli, gripping him by the jaw.

Your heart clenched. 

As much as you were hurt by him, you hated seeing him get bullied, especially by Kyler. 

You swore if you could punch anyone, it would be him—behind Yasmine and Moon of course.

“Look at this freak,” he snickered. “What girl would kiss that?” he got up real close to his face. 

You would, you knew that for sure. But you cowered in fear when Kyler shook Eli, the movement caused you to flinch, catching the bully’s attention.

“Maybe you, since you’re a slut and all,” he smirked, shoving Eli in your direction. 

You almost fell from the contact but Demetri was able to catch you. 

“Bet you’d kiss anything,” he made a face that had you revolting. 

You didn’t understand why he was slut-shaming you out of all people, but then you remembered he was friends with Yasmine.

When Miguel attempted to stand up for all of you, Kyler gave you a mercy pass. 

Without another thought, you all booked it. 

~

After spending the rest of school away from Kyler, you were trying to get home but seemingly, Eli wouldn’t let you out of his sight.

“I kinda want to be alone,” you stared at the floor, your books clutched to your chest as you approached your locker. 

“Y/N, did I do something wrong?” he stopped you in the empty hallway, a hand on your arm.

“Eli,” you sucked in a breath, about to tell him but a loud laugh disrupted you.

Blonde hair and designer brands filled your vision, her heels clicking against the floor. 

“Oh, hey! Y/N!” Yasmine beamed when she spotted you. “We’ve been looking for you,” she walked towards you with Moon at her side, her arms behind her back.

“We wanted to give this back,” Moon said just as Yasmine held out a similar yellow book with lavenders painted on it. 

Your heart dropped and you froze. 

She wagged it in your face but you couldn’t move. 

Eli just stood beside you, his eyes trained on you, searching for any sign of expression.

“Oh, well, if you don’t want it, I guess it’s trash,” Yasmine shrugged, dumping it in the garbage next to you guys. “Later, slut,” she spat towards you.

The two began cackling like crazy, leaving you with tears welling in your eyes. 

You sensed Eli moving next to you and you saw him reach into the trash, pulling out your sketchbook. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said. “Do you want me to look?” he held it in his hands. 

“I can look,” you gulped, blinking away your tears as he handed it to you. 

You opened it, finding all your sketches and paintings ruined. 

Red and black marker filled the pages, and scribbles and scratches graffitied all over. Words like “slut”, “whore”, “piece of shit”, and even comments about the actual drawings were littered everywhere. 

Eli sucked in a breath as he read over your shoulder. 

You closed the book, a sob racking through you as you turned and slid down against the lockers, your book pressed against your chest. 

“Why would they do something like that?” you frowned, staring at Eli who sat beside you. 

“I never thought they’d do something like that, I’m so sorry,” he scooted close so your arms touched. “Do you want me to get the counselor?” 

You shook your head. Setting your books down beside you, you rested your head against his shoulder, looping your arm through his. 

He stilled for a moment but welcomed your touch as he held onto your hand. He allowed his head to rest on top of yours, your hair rubbing against his skin, but he liked the feeling. 

Especially having you so close never felt closer to home.

You finally spoke up after you sat there, letting your tears dry.

“I was sad because you didn’t ask me out to the dance or even asked me to dance,” you licked your lips. “But I’m not sad about that anymore,”.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” he glanced at his feet. 

“I did, but now I’m just wondering if you actually like me or are you just playing with my feelings cause I can go-,” you were cut off by his lips pressing against yours. 

You stilled in shock but quickly melted, allowing your first kiss to happen. 

“Woah,” you blew out, staring at him, cheeks burning.

“I do like you,” he reaffirmed. “I’m sorry I’ve been taking forever to show you,” he licked his lips. “And I’m sorry about what Yasmine and Moon did,” he said. 

“Me too,” you glanced at his lips. “Thank you for being here,” you smirked. 

He smiled before leaning in to kiss you again. 

For a few minutes, you forgot how sad you were.

[silverpetrichor]

My Love Is Mine All Mine

A/N: I know I’ve been MIA but the mania surrounding Gravity Falls right now has awoken me from my slumber. I’ve had a huge crush on Ford since I got into the series during the pandemic and I just had to write this.(I've also never written smut before so please forgive me if it's cringe.) I’ve never written him before, so forgive me if he’s a little (or a lot) OOC. As always constructive criticism is welcome and please enjoy! 

Last Summer. . .

You were helping your brother cook dinner for his heavily pregnant wife and 2 kids. Laughing and joking as your younger brother arrived with his husband, wine and dessert. It was shaping up to be another ordinary evening hanging out with your family when you got the call. 

Next thing you know you’re hugging your loved ones goodbye before opening a portal to the outskirts of Gravity Falls, Oregon. Staring up at the darkness enveloping the town that you’d only heard of in passing, watching on in horror before assisting the others in reinforcing the natural barriers around the town to keep it from spreading…  

“—Y/n! Earth to Y/n! Are you okay?” Your coworker asked as you looked up from where you had zoned out while shelving the new books.  

“Yeah? I um, I’m fine really. Just lost in thought for a second.” you respond. 

“Oh, okay. Well, I was just trying to tell you that it’s lunch time,” Tracy said, smiling up at you. 

You tilted your head to the side, brows furrowing “Geez, already?” you looked at your watch, and low and behold it was noon already.  

You cast one more glance to the book still in your hand, a post apocalyptic romance who’s cover had evoked memories of the centralized apocalypse that had taken place last summer in the seemingly innocuous town. You recall arguing with the council about actually getting involved and helping the town instead of just doing damage control. You didn’t like the stances they often took, and were preparing to go in despite their decision when all of a sudden the oppressive feeling of Bill’s presence vanished and with it your need to be there, standing sentry. 

Or, so you thought. Now, you have moved from the hustle and bustle of New York City to the quiet and peculiar little town of Gravity Falls. All because you dared to go against the council and nearly disobeyed them, you were now stuck as a librarian here indefinitely. Merely monitoring the situation and living in a cottage not too far from the Mystery Shack, hidden by magic and finally inhabited again after decades of going unused after the last council assigned witch moved.

You shook your head as if shaking off your thoughts, shelving the book in your hand and heading to the breakroom in the back where your homemade lunch sat in the fridge. 

You ate your lunch with Tracy in relative silence letting her do most of the talking. She was a sweet woman who was a few years older than you, in her early forties married with three rambunctious kids. She was also very talkative, which you didn’t mind despite being more introverted yourself. 

You never liked the quiet anyway, ironically enough even though you had moved out to a cottage in the woods, you always had music or something playing. You’d even gotten a fluffy pet cat a week before who moved out here who you dubbed Lady Arson the III. 

You’d actually grown fond of this little town despite being a city girl, this town had its own unique charm. Even though you had to chase some gnomes out and renew the old wards on the old cottage. (Thank the stars you had a magical ingredients supplier for the unicorn hair you needed. Unicorns are such stuck up assholes and if you never had to interact with one again it’d be too soon) You had redecorated the cottage and made it your own. You also found a nearby lake to go swimming in relative peace during the spring and summer.  

You talked for a while with Tracy as you found yourself having a bit of fun. While you missed the city there were plenty of things and people that made it worth it. Like your crush on your friend Ford Pines. . . 

He came to the library every other day or so in the afternoon sitting in the back alcove reading and writing in a journal with weathered pages. You’d actually managed to strike up a rapport with the man instead of hopelessly pining after him in silence. (Which you still did but you felt less pathetic when your hands would wander late at night when you couldn’t sleep)  

And, speaking of the devil, Ford was present with his teenage niece and nephew Mabel and Dipper. You found them in the back of the library searching the shelves for a book as you came around the corner to reshelve the last of the book on your cart. 

“Good afternoon Y/n!” Mabel excitedly stated, having noticed you first as her brother and grunkle were absorbed in searching the shelves. 

“Afternoon Pines family, what trouble have you gotten into today?” You greeted and asked, taking in their disheveled appearances as you raised a brow. 

“We were exercising a category five ghost in the woods near Fiddleford’s mansion when we encountered a hostile gremloblin!” Mable replied as her and Dipper shuddered in unison. 

You scanned them for injuries upon hearing this, before asking if they were okay. They nodded their assent before Mabel leaned in and whispered “But I’m pretty sure Grunkle Ford has a concussion or something.” 

Your eyebrows raise as you release your hold on the cart you’d been pushing. You tap Ford’s shoulder and he turns around, rather quickly almost stumbling. As he does you notice the gash on his forehead covered in Hello Kitty bandaids, that are clearly Mable’s work. But despite that you still see some red on the gauze the two bandaids are holding down. 

“Hello, beaut—I mean Y/n!” clears throat, while rubbing his head with his free hand, “How are you doing today?” Ford asks awkwardly, blushing. 

“Certainly better than you, you’re bleeding! Come with me.” You say, grabbing Ford’s hand after seeing the slightly dazed and unfocused look in his eyes and the bloody gauze on his hand. 

You pull him to the breakroom, the twins following. Ford huffing and blushing even harder at you holding his hand. You sit him at the table as the twins walk over to the vending machine drawn to the candy and chips in it respectively. 

You wash your hands quickly before going to bend and look under the sink and after a minute or two of rummaging around, pull out the new first aid kit that you’d brought to replace the old barely full one. Ford’s head tilts and his eyebrows raise as he mentally thanks the infinite cosmos for pencil skirts and the fact that you seem to love to wear them. 

When you stand straight he guiltily turns his head to the side, finding interest in the fake foliage and book themed posters hanging about. You raise a brow at his odd behavior, chalking it up to his concussion and head over after smoothing out your black pencil skirt. You walk over, heels clicking on the linoleum floor as you take off your colorful blazer before rolling up your white blouse sleeves.  

You open up the first aid kit with practiced efficiency after laying out a piece of paper towel from the roll in the middle of the table. You sanitize your hands quickly with an alcohol wipe before you gently pull the Hello Kitty bandages and gauze off his forehead. Apologizing quietly as Ford winces still, you move to grab the alcohol. You end up muttering another apology as he winces whilst you dab at the slightly deep cut with a soaked cotton ball.  

Ford’s face stays flushed as he realizes how close your chest is to his face. Trying his best to not make it obvious that he’s staring at you in that way. His eyes flicker to your face, focusing on how cute you look with your face scrunched up in concentration as you gently dab.   

While Ford struggles to be covert about his feelings you seem to be fairing slightly better with a barely there flush to your face. You place butterfly bandages on his forehead after dropping the alcohol soaked cotton ball onto the paper towel. 

You then gently grab his hand before unraveling the gauze, and dabbing at the cut with another alcohol soaked cotton ball. 

Mabel looks over, noticing the look in each other's eyes and Ford’s blushing face. A smirk falling over her face as she realizes what is happening, nodding to herself.

“Matchmaking time!” she whispers under breath before choking on a gummy kola. 

Dipper rolls his eyes as he slaps her back, the gummy kola flying out her mouth. Of which, she promptly picks up off the floor and eats much to Dipper's disgust. 

“So…Y/n huh? Do you. . .like her?” Mabel asks Ford as they leave the library, raising her eyebrows and smirking. 

Ford chuckles nervously, blushing furiously “What? I, I uh. . I have no idea what you’re talking about!!” He says, eyes shifting about nervously. 

“ Oh my gosh! Yes you do!! You love her! Love, love, love her!!” Mabel yelled, jumping up and down around him as the trio walked back to the Mystery Shack.   

“And I thought I sucked at hiding my feelings.” Dipper nudged Ford, laughing. 

Ford sighed, scratching the back of his neck as he nodded in defeat before telling Mabel to quiet herself despite no one being near. 

“Yes, I am very fond of Y/n. I find her to be endearing and enchanting in everything she does,” Ford muttered as he nervously laughed. 

“Well then Grunkle Ford, you should ask her out!! All the other blind dates I've tried to set her up on went nowhere!!” Mabel said as she skipped backwards in front of him and Dipper.  

“I don't know, I mean, aren't I too old for her? And I haven't really had any sort of  relationship in a while.” Ford muttered as the Mystery Shack came into view.  

“Trust me, Grunkle Ford! You got this! She's into nerd stuff like DD&MD! She's a librarian and she’s a historian!! And she likes listening to you rant about your research! Plus she's beautiful! It doesn't get any better than her!!” Mabel yelled as they sat on the couch outside the shack. 

“Yeah, in fact I know just what I need to do!!” Ford declared as he grabbed a graph journal full of blueprints for inventions out of one of his trenchcoat inner pockets.  

****** 

“This was a terrible idea,” Ford whispered as he hid from Flirt B0t 3000.  

“Wow, really who would've thought a robot built for romance would've been a terrible idea? Let's see, uh everyone!” Dipper harshly whispered back. 

“This is Giffany all over again,” Mabel sighs as she hands Ford her compact so he can check around the corner for Flirt B0t 3000. 

As he did so, the robot's half melted face snapped in their direction, its intact eye rolling to look at him through the mirror. 

“When I say run, you run as far and fast as your legs can take you and don’t look back,” Ford harshly whispers, tightening his grip on his gun. 

“But Grunkle Ford!! We can help!” Dipper responds as he clutches a crossbow in his hand. After Weirdmageddon, he’d asked Wendy to teach him how to use one. 

Before Ford could argue further, Stan came around the corner baseball bat in hand. “Take this you stupid robot!!” He screamed swinging his baseball bat, just as Flirt B0t 3000’s head turned to face him. 

It’s head flies clear off, Dipper shooting it with his crossbow as it flies in front of him. Stan beat the headless body repeatedly until it stopped twitching and was nothing but a pile of mangled metal and wires. 

“Grunkle Stan!! How’d you know we needed help?” Mabel asked as she ran up to him, hugging him. 

Stan let out a small “oof” upon impact before explaining “Well, when Ford mentioned making a robot to practice asking out Y/n with and then none of you picked up the phone when I called, I figured it went horribly wrong. And would you look at that, I was right!” Stan kicked the robot's remains once more.   

“Thank you Grunkle Stan!! But did you see that shot!?” Dipper asked, laughing. 

“Sure did kid! Wendy's one hel-heck of a teacher ain't she?” He asked, giving Dipper a noogie. 

“Yeah!” Dipper agreed, grunting as he tried to get out of his head lock.

Stan released him before walking over to Ford and popping him upside the head. 

“What was that for Stanley?” Ford cried out rubbing the back of his head. 

“You know for someone so smart you sure can be a real dumbass sometimes. I may not be the best at romance or reading signals but even I can tell that you and her like each other. So for God's sake just ask her out already!” Stan harshly whispered to Ford as he gave him a hug. 

“Yeah, you're right. I mean the worst she can say is no right? Oh God what if she says no? I don't think I can do this!” Ford panicked, pacing. 

“Look Poindexter! You got this, you're the total package, even with those sideburns! Just take a deep breath and go ask her out before you lose your nerve,” Stan said, nudging Ford.

Ford ran out of his laboratory in the basement and headed for the library. 

“Ten bucks says he chickens out,” Stan says, waving at Ford's retreating figure. 

The young twins sigh in unison, shaking their heads at Stan's antics. 

******

Since Ford had awkwardly asked you out that first time a little over a month ago, you’d been spending almost all of your time together. Flowers from Ford littered your cottage and desk at work, and Ford would often have smudges of your dark red lipstick on his face. Even Lady Arson the III approved of him, and she never seemed to like any of your dates. You were both falling hard and fast for one another. 

But you still hadn’t told him about the whole you being a witch thing. Afraid of losing him, even if he was a lover of the supernatural you didn’t know if he still would, once you tell him the truth. You haven’t felt this way about someone since college. But every time you thought about telling him, you chickened out. 

Tonight though, you were going to have a picnic on the hill near your cottage and Ford was going to bring a telescope so you could stargaze. After mentioning to him how you loved astronomy but only ever got to see the stars in textbooks and online since you grew up in New York.  

You hoped nothing paranormal would interrupt your date, seeing as you were planning on finally telling him about your powers maybe. But of course, you just had to say it out loud. 

And well, now here you are in your cute floral sundress and cardigan fighting a very hostile spirit after it had attacked you and Ford while you were skipping stones at the nearby lake. Ford almost cracked his head on the rocks when he stumbled back in shock, at hearing the haunting childlike laughter reaching into his trench coat for holy water.  The category four spirit took this as an opportunity to attack, its cute face morphing into that of horror as it rushed towards the two of you.   

But then much to his surprise, you shoved him behind you before raising your hands and suddenly it slammed against a forcefield you had seemingly created if your glowing hands were any indication. Then a blast of blue light emanated from your open raised palms and the spirit froze before evaporating into thin air.

You sighed in relief before lowering your hands and wiping your brow. You then turned and began kissing Ford's face, pecking all about after you checked him over for injuries.You finally pull away when you feel satisfied with Ford’s blushing disposition. 

“Thank the stars you're okay! I can't believe we stumbled upon a hostile spirit all the way out here. My wards and presence usually keep stuff like this from happening,” you said sighing deeply. 

Ford stuttered his brain attempting to reboot after seeing you use your powers and you kissing his face so much,”Your wards, as in magic? Magic that I just saw you use. Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned as she paced in front of him, running his fingers through his hair. 

“Well, I—” you cut yourself off sighing deeply. “My being a witch isn’t exactly an ice breaker that I bring up on dates. You know how I haven’t had a serious relationship since college? It ended when she found out I was a witch and since then I just have gotten used to hiding that side of myself from anyone that didn’t already know. So yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I just didn’t want to scare you off because I’m falling for you and I think I might actually even be in love with yo—” Ford cuts you off, grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you passionately. 

You stutter, before humming into the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands as one of his hands makes its way to your waist.  You have matching goofy smiles as you pull away for breath resting your foreheads against one another. 

“You could never scare me off because in case you couldn’t tell, I’m in love with you too, darling.” he whispered softly to you, staring into your eyes as you bit your lip bashfully. 

You could feel the heat flushing your face as you felt him pull you closer. In the moonlight, you could see that he was blushing fiercely. You kiss him deeply, opening a portal behind you as you pull him backwards. 

You trip and fall right onto your bed at the cottage, much to Ford’s shock as he pulls away from you. He looks around baffled. 

“Fascinating! You can create portals? I knew that witches existed but I didn't know you could do that!! What else can you do?” Ford asked excitedly as he began to sit up reaching for his journal.  

You followed, grabbing his trench coat lapels, kissing him and flipping him to his back. Ford’s hands went slack, his focus recentered on you as you pulled away with a self satisfied smirk.   

“We can have a Q & A later, right now I’m more interested in other things,” Y/n breathed out before grinding on Ford's lap, feeling his hardness grow underneath you. 

Ford blinked, swallowing as he let out a whine at your continued movement. You kissed his lips again before muttering a soft “Off,” lifting the hem of his turtleneck. He eagerly obliged–almost knocking you in the face if not for your quick reflexes–practically ripping off his trench coat and turtleneck and flinging them across the room. You pulled your cardigan off as you admired his slightly pudgy and hairy physique before running your hands up his hairy yet muscular arms.  

He moaned as you ground down on him again, gripping the back of his neck as you clung to him. You giggled into his mouth, kissing him before standing to remove your sundress and flats. Ford followed suit, kicking off his combat boots and damn near ripping his pants and underwear as he pulled them off. Almost tumbling to the ground as he did so, causing you to both giggle. Until he looked up at you, breath catching at the sight of you still in your matching black lace bra and panty set.

He surges forward, kissing you like a man possessed and kneading your ass. You moan into his mouth, as you feel your panties dampen with your arousal. You feel his hard cock standing at attention, smearing precum onto your stomach. 

Before you know it, Ford has you lying on the bed kissing a trail down to the apex of your thighs. He lingers at your chest, sucking at your nipples through the lace before removing the barrier entirely. You shudder at the attention he gives your nipples, sucking one and rolling the other in his hand. 

You whine as he releases his grip on your chest and his mouth moves south. He teasingly kisses your aching clit and nips at your thighs before slowly pulling down your underwear. 

You buck your hips slightly at the feeling of his breath on your now exposed cunt. 

“Gorgeous,” you hear him whisper before diving in and eating you out like you were his last meal.  

You mewl as he laps at your folds before latching onto your clit and sucking. You buck your hips and whimper as you attempt to shut your legs. Ford pins your right thigh with one hand before moving to open you up with his other. 

You gasp and grasp at his hair roughly when you feel his index finger at your entrance before slowly sinking into you. You moan loudly, whining as he thrusts his finger in and out before adding another. Your eyes slam shut as your back arches at the feeling. 

He scissors his fingers briefly before he makes a come hither motion with his fingers. You begin to shake, your heels digging into his back from where your legs have been perched over Ford's shoulders. 

You whimper out a soft “oh fuck,” the only warning Ford receives before you're cumming all over his face. Whining and moaning as he fingers you and sucks at your clit through your high, moaning into your cunt. Which triggers another harsher orgasm as you sob out, pushing Ford's face away. 

You look down at him between your thighs, his face flushed and glasses askew as he kisses your thighs. As if to apologize for the accidental overstimulation, your chest heaving and thighs twitching still as you smooth out his messy hair. 

You sit up and pull Ford's mouth to yours by the nape of his neck. Kissing and licking into his mouth roughly, tasting yourself on his tongue. He moans into your mouth cupping your face gently. 

You both pull away to breathe, foreheads pressed together. “Are you sure you're up for more?” Ford questions against your lips. 

You smirk as you reach down to grab his cock, stroking its ruddy head. “Oh, I'm just getting started baby boy” you whisper in his ear as he whimpers in yours. 

You flip your positions again, spreading your thighs over his as you position yourself over his cock. Grasping his cock and guiding it towards your entrance, your other hand gripping the sheets by Ford's head. You moan in unison as you sink down his thick cock, gasping when you're fully seated. 

Ford whines as you begin to ride him, slowly at first before gaining a rough rhythm. You pin his hands above his head as he gasps at the sudden move.  Moaning loudly as you nip and lick at his neck, his eyes rolling back. 

You giggle sinfully in his ear, before moaning as he flips you onto your back. Ford grips your hips “My turn,” he growls out before beginning a punishing rhythm that has you crying out once more, tears streaming down your face. 

Your hands grip the sheets before clawing at Ford's back, causing him to moan, and move a hand to grip at the bedspread. 

“Fuck!! I'm close, are you there yet darling?” Ford pants out. 

It takes you a minute to speak coherently, gasping out “Inside, cum inside me! I need it, please” you manage to babble out through your tears.  

“Shit,” Ford hisses, moving to rub at your clit in rough circles. 

You whine and cry out Ford’s name as you writhe, your grip on Ford adjusts as you pull him in for a rough kiss. 

You both moan into the kiss as your walls flutter around his twitching cock. He groans at the feeling, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. You pant into each other's mouths as he breathes out “Cum for me, darling.” 

You let out a silent scream as you cum for a third time, Ford groans as he feels your wetness drench yours and his thighs as you squirt on his cock. His head drops to your neck as he bites your shoulder, shuddering as he thrusts deeply, his spend coating your walls as you pant and sigh. 

You lock your feet together around his waist as he collapses onto you. You play with his hair as the smell of sex and sweat permeates the air in the afterglow. 

You wince as you feel his softening cock slowly pull out. He groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your wet cunt. You feel your combined cum drip down to the crack of your ass as you sit up. 

“So, I'm a mess. Wanna help me clean up?” You smirk up at him, eyes glinting deviously. 

He laughs before pulling you up, “I thought you'd never ask,” you both smile into the kiss you share as you grab his hand, kissing it and leading him to your bathroom.  

You might just send the council a thank you basket for sending you to Gravity Falls after all. . . 

******

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I had fun writing this!

[rollinouttahere-writes]

So. It's kinda random but what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats with Y/n who is an artist? And maybe one day they saw how Y/n drew one of them but doesn't want to show any?

Let me see!

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.4k words

It was rare to get any time to yourself around here. Ever since you got mixed in with the Strawhat Crew, you felt like you always had someone attached to your hip or hovering over your shoulder. This made indulging in your personal hobbies difficult. Granted, it’s not like any of them would stop you from doing it, but you wanted to keep at least one thing for yourself.

Today was one of those instances where you were actually being left alone. You’re not sure how it happened this time. Maybe they all thought you were already spending time with someone else. Whatever, you’re not about to waste these precious moments pondering it.

Quietly slipping into your room, you pull your sketchbook and utensils out of their hiding spot. You curled up in your bed and flipped through the book until you found a blank page. Twirling the pencil between your fingers, you contemplate what to draw.

Despite your.. Complicated relationship with the crew, you couldn’t help but be inspired by them. Well, artistically speaking at least. They were constantly doing all these incredible feats and looking cool as hell while doing it. That, and it’s not like you saw much else besides them anyways.

After mulling it over, you start sketching, having decided on drawing Luffy today. He was an incredibly fun person to draw, what with his admittedly adorable baby face and his cartoonish anatomy. 

It didn’t take long for you to really get into the zone and be only focused on putting new lines onto the sheet of paper. You’re so focused that you don’t hear the door to your room open, nor the sound of sandals slapping across the floor until it’s too late.

“(Y/N)! Why are you hiding in here, I’ve been looking for you!” Luffy giddily rushed towards your bed and threw himself onto it, and subsequently you.

Frantically, you try to hide the sketch book under the covers, but he already saw it. Perking up, he tries snatching it out of your hand, “C’mon, why are you reading a book when you could be playing with me?!” 

Yes! You might be able to get out of this yet. If he thinks it’s a book, he definitely won’t try to read it and discover what it really is. “I like reading, Luffy. I just want to curl up with a good book once in a while,” as you’re saying this, you narrowly avoid letting it fall into his grabby hands, and slip it underneath yourself to sit on it.

He pouts and rests his face on his hands, still focused on the book, “Is it really that good that you want to read it more than hang out with me?”

You cringe a bit at how pointed the question was. There was no good answer here. Either you say no and he’ll immediately drag you off, or you say yes and run the risk of hurting his feelings. Then you’ll have to deal with a temper tantrum from him, and being admonished by the rest of the crew for being mean. “It’s not about it being better than hanging out with you, I can like doing more things you know.”

Luffy huffs at your indirect answer and begins tugging on the book again, “What’s it’s even about then?”

Oh shit. Um. Hm. Now you need to improvise. “It’s about,” you dart your eyes around looking for any inspiration to help you out. You’re in a plain room on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and of course the plot of literally every book you’ve ever read has completely vacated your brain.

You were apparently taking too long to tell him, so he just ripped it out from under you to investigate himself. “It can’t be that good if it’s that hard to explain. Why would you-” Luffy’s sentence died on his tongue as he opens it, right onto a picture of himself.

Panicking, you launch yourself onto his back in a desperate attempt to confiscate it, but he simply stretches his arms to keep it out of reach.

“This is awesome! Why didn’t you tell me you could draw so good?” Much to your chagrin, he starts flipping through it, now seeing sketches of the other members, too.

“Luffy! Give that back! I didn’t say you could look at that!” Blood rushed to your face from the embarrassment of being caught.

He peers over his shoulder at you, looking bewildered at your statement, “What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to share your talent?”

“No, I don’t! Just give it back and don’t tell anyone about it! Please!” You scrambled off the bed and leapt for the book, but he just snapped his arms back and continued the game of keep away.

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of your words and actions. His eyes suddenly widened and he grinned as something clicked for him, “Oh I get it! You don’t know how good these are! You just need some help realizing it!” With that, he took off out of your room, sketchbook in hand.

“Get back here!” You sprinted after him, hoping you could get it back before he showed everyone, but deep down you knew it was already too late.

You were at a massive disadvantage here. Luffy was fast, especially when he had something he wasn’t supposed to. By the time you make it onto the deck, you’re horrified to see he’s already acquired an audience. Nami and Robin were seated at the table, with Sanji serving them some tea and snacks (which were currently being inhaled by Luffy while they were distracted by the book).

“You aren’t supposed to see that!” You hope that you’ll be able to get it out of Robin’s hands, but Luffy wraps one of his arms around you, leaving you immobilized at his side. Before you could beg them to please put it down, Luffy shoves a tiny cake into your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go back a page, I think I saw one of me!” Nami was pestering Robin and trying to get it to herself, but any attempts at grabbing it were thwarted by an arm sprouting from the table and swatting her hands away. 

“In a minute, Nami, I’ll let you see when I’m finished,” Robin was entirely unbothered by her pleas (and yours), choosing to casually flip through each and every page with a small smile on her face.

Sanji was looking over them, smiling at the artwork, and was the first to acknowledge that you were standing right there. “These are incredible, though I’m not surprised that you would be so talented~!”

The sweet and genuine compliment almost made you cave in to accepting the situation, but you dismissed it. Swallowing the cake, you can finally speak again, “Please stop looking at that, I don’t like people looking at my sketchbook!” Especially not when the people in question kidnapped you and are actively holding you hostage.

“Oh? Are you shy about it? How cute,” Robin teased.

“It’s not-” you were once again cut off by another cake being stuffed into your mouth.

“What are you guys all looking at?” Chopper was now approaching with Usopp not far behind. Great. Why not just let everyone see it! 

Robin flipped to a page with Chopper on it and showed it to him, “(Y/N), took the time to draw all of us, it seems.”

Chopper’s eyes sparkled at the drawing, and against all logic he was somehow blushing??? “Oh I don’t look all cutesy like that, you jerk!” His dopey smile easily contradicted his words.

“I didn’t know you were also an artist. You should have told me sooner, I could’ve been teaching you! I’ll have you know I’ve tutored many famous artists! In fact, this reminds me- You drew me too?!” Usopp’s tale is cut short when Robin shows him a sketch of himself. 

You finally stop struggling, instead choosing to flop against Luffy in defeat. What’s the point? Damn near everyone has already seen it, you’re sure Zoro will wander on over here soon enough anyways. 

Upon feeling you give up, Luffy lets go and looks very pleased with himself. He unceremoniously shoves the little remaining food into his mouth and runs off calling for Zoro while Sanji gives chase, scolding him for eating all the food.

You just stood there, not knowing what else you could do. With Luffy gone, everyone else was crowding around you, lavishing you with compliments and asking questions all at once. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, all you could do was sulk as the last thing that you had just to yourself was taken away and thrown out into the open.

It was bound to happen eventually, you suppose.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

For the celebration (congrats btw!!) could we see the first time that it came up in conversation that Jake had a crush on a mystery girl? However you pictured it happening! Unless it’s too early to reveal it or if you have other plans for it! You can completely ignore this!!

I love your work!!

Aww thank you so much, darling! I love love love this request! I imagine this conversation happening between part 6 and 7 :D Hope you like it!

5k Weekend Bash Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend - Off Limits

Jake Seresin x Reader

“What’s the matter with you?”

Jake looks up from his drink, a little dazed. “What do you mean?”

Bradley gives him a pointed look. “Well, you didn’t even notice the two chicks we passed on the patio on our way in. Twins. You let me crush you at Mortal Kombat. Twice. You’ve barely touched your beer. And I’m pretty sure you weren’t listening to my rant about the pickles.”

“The pickles?” Jake cocks his head in confusion.

Bradley nods. “Mm-hm, the pickles that are supposed to be on this burger.” He gestures at his half-eaten meal.

Jake stares at Bradley for a moment. “Can’t believe I almost missed that.”

Bradley purses his lips sourly and returns his attention to his food. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re distracted.”

Jake looks down at his own plate and mutely picks up a fry.

Bradley, who’s about to take a bite, slowly lowers his burger, watching Jake zone out again as he chews. Bradley smirks, setting his burger down. “Spill,” he demands.

Jake cringes. “There’s nothing to spill.”

Bradley starts chortling. “Who is she?”

Jake sighs uneasily and finally meets Bradley’s gaze. “Uh, you don’t know her.”

“You bang her yet?”

Jake tries not to wince. “No. She… doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know what?” But after two seconds of contemplation, Bradley leans into the table excitedly. “Are you telling me you’re hung up on a chick who has no clue that you’re into her?”

Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Looks like it,” he responds miserably.

“Why haven’t you asked her out?”

Jake glances up at his friend, doing his best not to appear overly guilty. “She’s bad news.”

Bradley’s grin broadens. “I like the sound of that.”

Jake suppresses a groan. “No, it’s not what you think.”

“What do I think?”

Jake grimaces, staring into his fizzing beer. “I just mean… she’s not an option.”

“Because?” Bradley raises his eyebrows expectantly.

Jake shifts in his seat and looks back up warily. The truth is, he wouldn’t mind talking about you at all. In fact, he’s dying to tell his best friend about the emotional turmoil he’s been contending with since he realized he had feelings for you. But, as luck would have it, Bradley is actually the root of the problem, and consequently the last person Jake should be sharing with. Still, Jake really can’t resist talking about you, given how much he’s lately been keeping to himself. “Because she’s” – off limits – “taken.”

Bradley nods sympathetically. “Been there.”

Jake grips his beer stein and lifts it off the table. “Her boyfriend is a real piece of work, too.”

“So, show her that you’re better. Easy.”

Jake sets his beer back down without taking a drink. “Am I?”

Bradley leans back in his seat with a chuckle. “Oh no,” he says.

“What?”

“You fucking like her, dude.”

“I told you, I like her.”

“No.” Bradley shakes his head. “No, no. You don’t just like her, man. You like her.”

Jake is watching Bradley impassively. “Are you fucking glitching?”

Bradley laughs. “Admit it!”

Jake opens his mouth to protest that he already has, but then closes it again because obviously Bradley is right. “Yes, I fucking like her, Bradshaw. I like her enough to know that she shouldn’t be with me.”

Bradley’s obnoxious cackle has fizzled to a merry chuckle now and he shakes his head with a loud, theatrical sigh. “My boy is growing up!”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I’m so proud of you, man.”

“I said, shut the fuck up, Bradshaw.”

Bradley raises his hands in surrender. “Okay,” he says giddily. “So, tell me about her.”

5k Celly

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

CONGRADULATIONS ON THE 100 FOLLOWERS!!!! Can I request Idia with the stargazing prompt? Can it please be romantic and fluffy? This event is so fun! I hope you have a wonderful day!!☆彡♡ :)

Stargazing; Idia Shroud

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, romance

Word Count; 700+

AN; Thank you, Sofia! I hope you enjoy the fluffy Idia! He deserves to not always be a wet cat (affectionate) As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The heat of the day was finally gone. Dew covered the grass. Crickets chirped in the undergrowth. And above you were millions of stars, and visible galaxies and nebulas, not obstructed by decades of light pollution. It was beautiful. 

Sitting beside you on the blanket that was spread out to provide a somewhat comfy barrier between you and the ground, was Idia. He had the hood of his sweater tied on tight, as so to hide the fact that his hair was nearly neon pink, and a dead giveaway of how he was feeling. And even though he was out of his comfort zone, he wanted to join you. And he was happy that he did. Yes, he felt nervous, but it wasn’t just because he was out in public — it was because this was a date, an official date. And while the two of you sitting in his room and playing games or watching shows were technically dates, this was the first public one.

“Hey, Idia,” you tugged at his sleeve, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Do you have a favourite constellation? A planet?”

He cleared his throat and hesitantly held your hand in his. His hand shaking the slightest bit. “Not really,” he said quietly looking up to the sky. Well, his head was pointed up, but he wasn’t looking at the countless stars. He was looking at you from the corner of his eye. “And you?”

You hummed, looking up at the unfamiliar sky. “Pluto. It’s a planet from… from back home.”

Idia gently slipped his hand into yours and squeezed it. “I-if you want, you can talk about it,” he internally cringed. He hadn’t stuttered like that since he had truly started feeling comfortable around you.

You squeezed his hand back and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Well, it used to be a planet but then got demoted to a dwarf planet. Which is kind of ironic, seeing that it’s named after the Roman god of the underworld.” You sigh and turn to Idia, whose hood had slipped down, revealing his hair. It was a lovely shade of pastel pink, and it was the entirety of his hair, not just the tips. It cast the both of you in a soft rose light. “... a person people tend to underestimate and judge.”

Idia clamoured to get the hood over his head, but he was stopped by your hand, which gently placed the hood down. Why are they looking at me like I’m the milk bread protag in some cheesy shounen?! He was in his own head, but all of that went away when he felt your hand cup his face.

Idia was similar to Pluto, and not just in the themes of relating to the god of the underworld. For so long, people only saw them as unassuming. But when you get closer, then you can appreciate the beauty and tiny details. Someone that you would stand next to and defend at all costs, even when the rest of the world may say that you shouldn’t, that you should just let it be as is.

“I love you,” you whisper, looking into his gold eyes.

That was the first time you had said that, well, said it out loud. Maybe it was the fact that Idia did something out of his comfort zone for you, maybe it was the setting, or maybe it was something else entirely.

You place your forehead against his. “I love you, Idia Shroud,” you say again, still looking into his eyes.

If Idia’s hair were not already as bright and pink as it could go, it would have gotten brighter, but it was as bright as the sun. But his face was now warm, and he was holding eye contact; even though he wanted to hide. “I-I,” he shut his mouth, took in a deep breath and centred himself. He didn’t want his first time saying the phrase to be stuttered. He wanted it to be perfect. I can do this. “I love you too.”

Shyly, he placed a kiss on your cheek and held eye contact for a few moments before hiding back in his hood. He swore that you were more stunning than all the stars that glittered above.

[mysticmellowlove]

Thinking about a really tall (like 6’3-6’4) yandere who is like slender muscle and who gives off “Look at us the wrong way and I’ll snap your neck” vibes but in reality he is just a little thing for us. A big little thing. Like, he can lift almost anything and do anything but he just wants us to caress him and tell him what a pretty boy he is and how we love him. Sitting on his lap caressing his pretty face saying we’ll be together for eternity. He wants to be manhandled at the same time, spank him, tell him his mommy owns him and peg him. Use his thick long pretty pink cock however you please but just please touch and love him. Take him on walks and pet him and he should be ok.

note; the Aussie in me really comes out whenever i write mommy kink because i can't for the life of me type 'mummy' and not cringe, it's gotta be the American spelling lol

warnings; sub male, yandere male, reader is called mommy, no gender tho, mommy kink, small pet play,

The smell of freshly brewed coffee swarmed your senses as you took another sip from the cappuccino in front of you. At your side was your boyfriend of three months. The relationship was pretty new yet you had a feeling that he didn't share the same sentiment.

Ever since you had first gotten with him he was always a little too close, a little too clingy, a little too knowledgeable. You took it in stride though and made sure to enjoy the strangely attentive man.

"Hey, you're with Build Co?" Your head turned casually as you zoned back into the real world. Standing there was an older man accompanied by what looked to be the standard younger and way more attractive assistant.

"Sure am, shall we start?" You smiled at the two as you slowly pet the thigh of your boyfriend.

"You did so good today, I'm proud of you." You cooed as you languidly stroked his cock. The ministrations were repetitive, up and down like a pendulum. He sat with his legs draped over your lap, his hands holding him up as he pressed them into the bedsheets.

He was like a big puppy, sometimes he was naughty and like today sometimes he was good. You knew that taking him to one of your appointments would be a little shaky, there was something about other people that seemed to set him off. However, he didn't even glare at the gentleman you were designing a house for!

He deserved something good for his efforts.

"T-thank you mommy." He stuttered as he fought to keep his hips still, not wanting to take away his prize by being greedy. You knew all he wanted to do was thrust upwards into your hand, it seemed as if today he just wanted to be on his best behaviour. You cooed as you continued to jerk him, your other hand going to pinch at his sensitive nipples.

He stood tall and strong, muscular and intimidating and yet he had the most sensitive body. Flick his nipples and he was keening, brush over his underwear and he had tears in his eyes. Such a needy boy and yet it was only for you. That rush of dominance was like nothing else, that high of knowing he would only bend over for you. And bend over he did, he tried to tempt you all the time after all.

But now he was being a good boy and good boys deserve rewards. He already had his collar around his neck, the leather slightly biting into his skin just how he liked it and you knew that the butt plug inside him was pressing deliciously into his prostrate as he sat on his ass with his cock before you.

"Please, can I be inside you?" He whispered, his eyes directed down at his weeping cock instead of your eyes. So shy and pliant, always wanting what's best for you. A hum left your mouth as you pretended to think about it for a moment.

"Why not? You've been so good to me haven't you, it would be cruel to leave my little puppy high and dry right?" A snide grin rose to your lips as his eyes lit up, a light sheen of sweat made his skin glisten.

"Come on then, make sure to fuck me good puppy." You grinned as you gave his dick one more tug before shuffling his legs off of you. After a long day of work getting to spend the night with your overly needy boyfriend was like a dream come true. Even better if he had his cock deep inside you as tears streamed down his face.

"Of course mommy, I promise. Always."