#something dumb i needed to get out of my head

[muntitled]

Boa

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're just a kid, caught in a gangster’s crosshairs. What happens when you don’t deliver like you should…

Warnings: Language, Dom!Seongje, Gangsterism, Bullied!Reader, Coercion, Bullying, Extortion, Mentions of Rape, Smut +18 (mdni), Dark fic, Dubious consent, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Desperate Sex, Humiliation, Degradation

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume. I wrote this for me so...

Ever since you've started working for him, you've learned to get extremely acquainted with the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir…” your voice is brittle as you try to make yourself heard in the suffocating internet cafe, “I'm short on delivery today..."

Hardwood. Tile. Linoleum. It's become all too familiar to you. The floor is all you see in his presence.

You never looked Seongje in the eyes unless he addresses you first. He likes that, you suspect.

It's kept you alive this long so you must be doing something right.

"I got assigned a kid to tutor and..." you clear your throat, not daring to make direct eye contact, choosing instead, to keep your eyes trained on the dirty, cold floor.

The internet cafe is the very last place you'd want to be on a Friday evening. You were caught right in between two challenging essay due dates- one for English and one for AP English. Both hung gravley over your head, threatening to set off your sympathetic nervous system and have you fainting from academic stress. Seeing him was the very last thing you needed.

"That tutoring time fucked with my system and-" despite all your achievements, despite the academic prestige and the boundless knowledge… in Seongje's presence you feel insignificant.

A bug he's letting scurry around for no other reason except his enjoyment. You didn't want to get stomped on. You saw what happened to the other kids under his thumb and it kept you up at night. All that blood. All the merciless sadism.

You aren't dumb enough to hope an exception would be made for you.

"I'm sorry,” you conclude, and for a second, you get no response. He plays his game. His friends remain silent.

That's all until he pushes the bridge of his glasses up further against his nose. A calm, quiet sigh leaves his lips.

“Before you started working for me, do you know what you were?" Seongje doesn't take his eyes off the screen. His fingers run deftly over the keys as he speaks to you without ever really acknowledging you, "You were in an alleyway, about to get raped by Eunjang scum."

"Yes, Seongje, I know-"

"And in return for my kindness, what did I ask of you?"

"FUCK- COVER ME BRO!" Your eye snaps up to the source of the loud and sudden burst of energy. Your frightened and pitiful eyes find a boy seated adjacent to Seongje and his goons. He's bent over his screen, clearly not a part of the group. Clearly far too young.

Your heart sinks when you realize Seongje's eyes are trained on the boy too.

"Ya…” Seongje raises his voice a decimal above the cacophony yet it has you flinching. “Too loud,” he says to the boy, “Didn’t anyone teach you shut up when adults are talking?” he asks monotonously to the boy- a child really- still mourning the loss of his avatar on the screen. He doesn't pay Seongje any mind.

Of course he doesn't. He's a kid.

How could he have known?

He came to an internet cafe to play a game with his friends.

It's the boy's innocence that hurts the most.

He doesn't know that the monsters under his bed are very real.

They walk where he walks.

They don't hide.

They move about freely.

Your heart makes like the titanic and sinks.

"Excuse me for a second." Seongje addresses you politely, finally giving you a fleeting glance before pushing himself out of his gamer chair. You see his entire row of friends (if that's what one could even refer to them as) remain unfazed as Seongje rounds the table to stand directly behind the young boy.

He’s bigger, far bigger as he pushes the rims of his glasses up, staring directly at you

"I know you're smart so you're probably aware that your fuck-up won't be tolerated-” he says to you, despite slithering his arm around the boys neck like a boa as he squeezes. Everyone keeps their eyes trained to their computers. Your fist curls at your side. You want to look away but you can't because you're speaking to Seongje. You wouldn't want to aggravate him further by showing him his mindlessly violence bothers you. So you try not to flinch.

You try not to let the casual violence scare you. How nonchalantly he speaks while an elementary school boy flails in his arms, begging to be released from the headlock making his lips turn blue

“You knew there'd be a punishment,” Seongje is still speaking to you. You hold your breathe in solidarity with the boy choking in his arms, “-for fucking up your delivery-” crimson blossoms onto the little boys face but Seongje keeps his eyes on you, appearing unfazed by the boy flailing like an animal in arms, "And yet you came anyway. That's the kinda work ethic, I like-” he smiles, “I like it alot-"

Eventually, after what feels like forever, he lets go of the boy. You finally breathe as well, watching as the kid slumps forward ingesting the air in horrid gasps.

Seongje bends forward, patting the boy on the back.

"No more interrupting when I speak, yeah?" Whether the boy was new to this particular internet cafe, it was unclear, but you hoped to whatever divine being that he wouldn't dare come back.

"So I'll let it slide-" He turns his attention back to you and you watch, still shaken up as Seongje leaves the little boy to make his way back to his side of the table. When he breezes past you he smells like nothing. Like his eyes, everything about him is empty.

"Thank you, Seongje-"

He nods before adding, "After you get on your knees." The goon sitting nearest to you, all the way at the end of the table, his fingers hover over the keys, and just like before, the room is rid of all air.

"Excuse me?”

He pulls out his chair for you, like some mimic of a perfect gentleman he opens his arm, gesturing you in.

"I want you on your knees, under the desk.” His words hang above you all. It has tears threatening to spill. Bile rising.

“What’s with the face? Its not like I’m asking you to suck my dick,”

"Seongje, I need to get home-"

"If you can't do it yourself I'm more than happy to help."

That has your legs moving into action. In your periphery, it feels as though everyone's watching you. A thing in psychology called the imaginary audience. When you're so self-conscious you concoct this idea of being the center of attention… only this time, it's real. You know they're all watching you. You know no one will do anything about it.

"Under the desk you go," he chuckles before sitting down and pushing his chair back in. You back away, creating intense distance between you. Your back hits dirty wires and your knees press hesitantly down onto the grime just to achieve a more comfortable position. Everything you see is his legs, his friends legs and you're suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to cry.

You want to scream at him to let you go. He's hijacked you from your endless pile of homework and yet the very thought of standing up for yourself causes a sea of nausea.

So you sit there in the dark, not knowing when this punishment would conclude. When would he let you go home? That sends you into another spiral. You've heard Seongje could game for 24 hours straight. Maybe more if he was in close vicinity to food and a bathroom. You knew this internet cafe would close eventually, that gives you the smallest sliver of hope and so you do your time.

Never once does he acknowledge you- the girl under his desk. Unbeknownst to Seongje, you catch one of his fellow gang members sneak multiple glances at you under the table. They all do. Like they enjoy seeing you under here. As time passes, and you slip further and further away from the stress, you realize that down here, on the floor, under his desk, the world is small. It's quite comforting actually and that wasn't the trauma talking.

You've always liked small spaces.

It definitely beat dealing with whatever he had going on up there half the time.

Slowly, your body begins to shut down. Your energy plummets from all the stress and all the thoughts. This is the first time you've been forced into a spot for too long doing nothing. No essays. No tutoring.

Due to tendencies from your childhood that you should've gotten rid of, you find yourself curling up against his leg. He stiffens and you snap out of the exhaustion long enough to reel back. Especially when you see his hand reach under the table. Your heart hammers in your chest, not a single word spoken as his hand searches for something. You move a bit closer until his hand catches on your hair. You wince as he drags you closer, pushing your head against his leg as you had done.

He leaves you there. You try to regulate your breathing as you feel him adjust in his seat above you.

You shift as well. Not your head. He clearly wants you there. But your legs are uncomfortable. You try to kneel and it's ridiculous because your head never leaves his leg.

No position seems comfortable enough until he stretches his leg out, right in between yours and you're made to straddle it. Above you, his fingers are still hitting the keys and you try to disassociate from the fact that his leg is pushing against your cunt. You try to sneak a peek at the surface, his glasses are trained on the screen. Not knowing whether it's your exhaustion making a reappearance but you could've sworn you hear the words, "good girl," release from him in a low drawl.

Something in his tone has you shifting over his leg. Your cunt warms against his leg and you fight the urge to buck against him. All you had to do was remember who it is that you're currently touching. That conscious reminder has you once again hellbent on doing your time with concrete resolve.

That resolve breaks.

It shatters when he eases his back against the chair, enough to once again slither his hand down towards you.

He curls his fist into your hair and tugs.

He pushes you down and lifts you up and you mindlessly follow his movements until you realize he's coaxed you into riding his leg.

He lets go of your hair, satisfied when your hips move out of their own accord.

You hate how good it feels to quite literally be beneath him. You look up and you whimper oh so quietly when you see that small smile play on his lips while his eye remains on the screen.

He's given you new instructions now and so you don't dare to stop moving your hips against him. Despite the damp spot forming on the seat of your underwear. You're not sure what it is that allows you to lose yourself so easily. Perhaps it's all the expectations that melt away when you're doing something so pitiful. You're breaking for him and he's letting you. You're not in control of anything and there's freedom in that.

“F-Fuck-” you didnt mean for the words to slip. There are still other people here but you also couldn't help the wave of pleasure that pushed up so suddenly. Your clit is moving against the fabric of his pants just right and your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head.

The second that whimper escapes your mouth, he stiffens again.

You watch as he leans back again, this time his hand isn't reaching out for you. It's to ghost over the bulge forming in his pants. Somehow that spurs you on more.

You grind against him desperately and before he can take his hand away, this time you reach up for him.

You watch him closely. The glare from the screen reflects on his glasses. His jaw, tight.

He controls the game easily with one hand, while you bring the other into your mouth.

You're not sure where this other side of you came from. This vixen who rolls her tongue out and forces his index and ring finger into her warm mouth.

He becomes more and more restless… His breath hitching. Seongje's fingers hit the keys more aggressively, while his right hand forces his fingers further down your throat. His hips buck upwards and you can see the damp spot forming where his cock is straining against his pants. He's about to cum in his pants and you're about to cum on his leg and it's far too much for you.

You know his friends are about. You try to preserve even a sliver of dignity but it all goes out the window.

“Fuck-” he spits out, slamming his fist on the table before abandoning the game. There's a fire in his eyes as he sits back to watch you peer up at him with complete and utter desperation.

“What a fucking slut-” he snarled, cleaely audible enough for not only him but his friends too. It has your mouth snapping open. Your back arches as you try to watch him watching you cum on his leg.

You've never held his attention for this long and it sends you off the edge.

“S-Seongje-” you barely squeak out as your cunt spasms against his leg. You rut uncontrollably, spurred on by the name That fell from your lips as if your body needed a reminder of just who it was making you cum. Your tormentor.

It has you seeing stars.

For all of 11 seconds.

Until it comes crashing down on you. Your pitiful act has you reeling. Mind spinning.

You don't want to look up at him but you have nowhere else to look. Your heart sinks when you see a smile form slowly across his lips… Somehow you knew you'd never be rid of him.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤADDICTIONㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Roy Harper x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

It doesn’t start pretty. It starts with you pissing him off.

You were a little too mouthy for his taste, too unimpressed by his sharp aim and cocky grin. He didn’t like the way you looked right through him, past the sarcasm, past the good-ol’-boy act. You saw something in him — the anger, the brokenness, the bleeding parts he covered with jokes. And you didn’t flinch.

That’s what did it.

You didn’t flinch.

Roy is used to flinching. People either pity him or write him off, tired of his rehab records and near-death decisions. But you? You looked him in the eye and told him to shut up when he was being annoying. You called him out when he was hiding behind jokes. You treated him like he mattered — not because he was Arsenal, not because he was a hero — just because he was Roy.

He’s not used to being seen.

At first, he tells himself he just likes being around you. That’s all. Normal stuff. You make him laugh. You keep him grounded. You don’t try to fix him, and that feels better than any rehab or therapy ever has.

But then he starts thinking about you too much.

Your voice gets stuck in his head like a song. He catches himself texting you dumb memes just to make you smile. Starts checking your social media at 3am when he can’t sleep. Starts memorizing the way you talk, the things you like, the stupid brands of candy you eat.

He’s already obsessed, but he doesn’t admit it yet.

Until someone flirts with you.

That’s when the mask cracks.

He’s not calm. He’s not cool. He’s not normal about it. He gets snappy, territorial. Not in front of you — he respects you too much for that — but the guy who flirted with you? Roy breaks three of his ribs during sparring and calls it an accident. No one believes him.

When he finally realizes he’s in deep, it scares him.

He’s been through hell. Lost people. Made mistakes. Done things he can’t take back. He doesn’t deserve something soft and kind like you. But that doesn’t stop the obsession from growing.

He starts doing things behind your back. Quiet things. Dangerous things.

He finds out where you live — not in a creepy way, he tells himself — just in case you ever need him. He follows you home a few times, watches from rooftops just to make sure you’re safe. No one sees him. He’s too good for that.

He tracks the people in your life. Your coworkers. Your friends. That ex you never talk about? Roy knows everything now. And if any of them ever hurt you — they won’t even know it was him.

He loves you quietly, violently.

He keeps little pieces of you. Things you leave behind. A pen you forgot. A coffee cup you tossed. You never notice they’re missing. He keeps them in a drawer, like trophies. He knows it’s not healthy. He doesn’t care.

He starts writing texts he never sends. “I miss you.” “I want you.” “I love you.” Then deletes them. You’re too good. Too normal. You’d run if you knew how deep it went.

But God, when you smile at him like you mean it? When you touch his arm, or lean your head on his shoulder after a long day?

It makes him feel real.

So he waits. Watches. Obsesses. Protects.

And the day you say, “Roy, I think I love you,” his whole world shifts.

Because now it’s not just obsession. It’s permission.

And he’s never letting you go.

It’s different now that you love him.

Now he doesn’t have to hide the way his eyes linger too long. Now he can trace your jaw with his fingers and call it affection, not fixation. Now he can sleep in your bed and press his face into your neck like he’s trying to inhale you. And he does. He does.

But obsession doesn’t get softer when it’s fed. It gets louder. Hungrier.

At first, he tries to be normal. Dates. Sleepovers. Stupid inside jokes. He gets you flowers — steals them from a villain’s estate, but hey, they’re still pretty. You make him laugh. He makes you feel safe.

But that voice in his head — the one that says you’re his, only his — never shuts up.

You don’t notice how he starts pulling you closer whenever other guys are around. How his hand finds your waist just a little too tightly when someone looks at you wrong. How his eyes go dead-cold when someone makes you laugh in a way he thinks only he should.

He tells himself he trusts you. And he does.

It’s everyone else he doesn’t trust.

You go out with friends? He hacks traffic cams to make sure you get home okay. You text someone at midnight? He finds out who it is in five minutes flat. You talk about an old friend a little too fondly? He looks up their location, just in case he needs to pay them a quiet, final visit.

Roy doesn’t threaten people. He doesn’t have to.

One look — that look — and people back the hell off. They know.

He’d bleed for you. Burn cities for you.

But here’s the twist: around you, he’s soft.

He’s the Roy you adore — grinning, rough-around-the-edges, all charm and chaos. He kisses you like he’s starving. Carries your stuff even when you say no. Keeps a stash of your favorite snacks in his bag during missions.

He gets nightmares sometimes — ugly ones. Stuff from his past. And when he wakes up shaking, you’re there. You hold his hand. He doesn’t tell you he dreams about losing you. About your body cold in his arms. About reaching you too late.

That’s his greatest fear. That he’ll fail you like he failed everyone else.

So he prepares.

He trains harder. Stockpiles weapons. Sets traps around your apartment you don’t even notice. Encrypts your phone so no one can track you. Puts a tracker in your necklace — the one he bought you for your birthday — just in case.

You’re his world. His second chance. His religion.

And the thing about Roy is this:

Once he loves you, he loves you with everything — the good, the broken, the violent.

So if anyone hurts you, even once?

They’re not disappearing.

They’re never being found.

You try to pull away.

It’s subtle at first. A hesitation before you kiss him goodnight. A pause before you answer his texts. You tell him you’re just tired, that work’s been rough, that you need space.

And Roy? He nods. Smiles. Says he understands.

He doesn’t.

Because love isn’t supposed to feel like this. Like slipping through fingers. Like drowning with your mouth still open. You’re his everything. His only anchor. And now you’re pulling away like you don’t know what you mean to him.

You have no idea what that does to a man like Roy.

He’s not someone who can let go. He never learned how. Everyone in his life either left or died. And if you leave—

No. He won’t survive it.

So he starts clinging harder. Calling more. Showing up unannounced. You say you're busy, and he just laughs it off. "Busy with what? Need help?" His tone is light, joking — but his eyes don’t blink. They watch.

You say you’re going out with friends, and ten minutes later, there’s a red motorcycle parked across the street from the bar. You never see him. He’s not here to ruin your night.

He’s here to protect what’s his.

You belong to him.

You just… forgot for a second.

Maybe someone told you you deserve better. Someone said he’s intense, possessive, obsessive. Maybe you believed them. But he’s already rewriting the narrative in his head.

They’re manipulating you.

They’re trying to take you from him.

And he won’t let that happen.

You wake up one morning and your phone’s wiped clean. A “random glitch,” your carrier says. You lose contact with half the people you were just starting to reconnect with. Friends disappear. Exes block you.

Roy’s arms are warm when he holds you through it. “People are shitty sometimes,” he says. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He means it.

Even if you scream. Even if you run. Even if you beg.

Because if you try to leave — really leave — he’s not above burning the bridges behind you. You can hate him. You can cry. You can throw things. But you will still be in his bed, still wearing the chain around your neck with the tiny GPS inside, still breathing because he keeps you safe.

He kisses your forehead one night, right after you told him, “I need space.”

His voice is soft, barely a whisper:

“You just need me.”

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Get Your Fuckin Ass Back Home 🏡

Jey Uso x Bratty!Reader

WARNING: Brat taming, creampie, rough sex, heavy dominance and submission themes, consensual power imbalance, safeword use (“blue”), face fucking, throat fucking, hard spanking, overstimulation, claiming and breeding kink themes, slight spit play and spit kissing, light degradation, possessive behavior, slight humiliation kink, minimal aftercare, and explicit sexual content (18+ only).

NOT BETA READ! LIGHT EDITING (I took my lunch break early for this.)

INSPO from pic above.

requested by: @acknowledge-reigns

bffls: @spiicii @cheappop @love4brutality @isabella-2025 @maineventabbey

You weren’t trying to start a fight with Jey.

But then again, you weren’t trying not to either.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you pushed back, rolled your eyes, tossed that slick little “whatever, Josh..” over your shoulder like you weren’t poking a damn bear.

Jey’s jaw clenched so hard you swore you heard it crack.

“You gonna fix that fuckin’ attitude, or do I gotta fix it for you?” he asked, low and dangerous.

You just smirked, shrugging, playing dumb like you didn’t know the heat rolling off him was a warning.

Instead of answering, you grabbed your purse and headed toward the door.

“I’m going out with the girls,” you said sweetly, “Don’t wait up.”

You could feel Jey’s stare burning through you as you slammed the door.

⸻

Four hours later, you were three shots in, two tequila sodas deep, laughing too loud at a shitty joke at the bar.

Your phone buzzed once on the sticky table.

You ignored it at first. Then it buzzed again.

And again.

Rolling your eyes, you snatched it up and saw his name light up the screen.

And attached to the latest message — a picture.

One you knew he kept for when he meant business.

A picture of Jey standing near the edge of your shared bed — shirtless, legs spread, his cock bulge through his sweats with that pretty little champion belt he was always so proud — glaring straight into the camera.

The caption underneath was simple:

“Bring your ass home. Now.”

Your whole body heated instantly — not just from lust, but from that possessive command dripping off the words.

You shifted in your seat, thighs pressing together, your stubborn heart still trying to hold the line.

You typed back:

“Maybe I’m busy.”

Not even fifteen seconds later:

“Last fucking warning before I fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for a fucking week..”

You stared at the screen, your chest tightening. Your instincts wrestled with your bratty need to push.

But you knew better.

Knew what would happen if you ignored that tone one more time.

With a huff, you snatched your bag and muttered something about feeling sick to your girls.

—

The ride home was torture.

Your thighs rubbed together the whole way.

Your pussy throbbed.

Your mind ran wild with all the ways Jey was probably going to handle you the second you walked through that door.

You fumbled with your keys at the door, nerves and excitement tangling together in your gut.

When you stepped inside, you barely had time to blink before a large hand wrapped around your throat and pressed you back against the wall.

“You think you grown now, huh?” Jey rumbled against your ear, voice thick and mean.

Your heart skittered wildly, whimpering without thought.

“Talkin’ back… leavin’ like that… Ignorin’ me…” he growled, nipping sharply at your jaw.

“You asked for this, baby.”

You squirmed under his touch, pretending to be bratty still — but he wasn’t having it.

“You gonna learn tonight,” he promised, his free hand slipping down between your legs, cupping his pretty little pussy that he knew would be soaking through your panties.

You writhed under his grip, still trying to act like you weren’t five seconds away from crumbling.

Still batting your lashes like a brat, even though every second was turning you on even more.

“Awww, poor Daddy is mad ‘cause I went out without him?” you mocked, smirking even as your chest heaved.

The fingers around your throat tightened — just enough to make your toes curl — before he yanked you forward, dragging you by the back of your neck through the living room, down the hall toward the bedroom.

“You gon’ keep runnin’ that smartass mouth, huh?” Jey muttered darkly, kicking the bedroom door open.

“You want it rough, baby? You gonna get it rough.”

He shoved you down to your knees by the bed, your hands instinctively catching yourself on the floor.

You looked up at him, lips already twitching into a smirk.

“So what, you gonna spank me and call it a night?” you taunted, tipping your head to the side.

Jey barked a short, humorless laugh.

“Nah, lil’ mama. I’m boutta break you tonight.”

He leaned down, gripping your chin hard between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“You listen good now you filthy slut..” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours, voice dropping so low it vibrated in your bones.

“Your safeword is blue. You say it if you need to. Otherwise, you take what I fuckin’ give you.”

You clenched violently.

But you still couldn’t help yourself. You still had to mouth off.

“I dunno,” you said airily, blinking up at him. “You sure you got the stamina to back all that talk up, old man?”

His nostrils flared.

Without another warning, he pulled his cock free, thick and already leaking at the tip.

Before you could get another word out, he gripped the back of your head and thrust deep into your mouth.

Your eyes widened as he sank all the way down your throat in one brutal glide.

No teasing.

No warning.

Just pure throat fucking.

You gagged immediately, nails digging into his thighs for balance, but he didn’t ease up.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, holding your head still while he fucked into your throat at a savage rhythm.

“Yeah… that’s what I thought,” Jey grunted, looking down at you, dark eyes blazing.

“Smart lil’ mouth… finally put to some good use.”

You tried to glare up at him, tried to glare even with tears prickling your lashes, but it only made him snarl and thrust harder.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that,” he panted. “Go on. Be a little brat. See where it fuckin’ gets you.”

You whimpered around him, half from the way your throat burned, half from the wetness pooling between your legs.

Your hands fisted the sheets behind you, legs trembling.

You wanted to be mad.

Wanted to stay bratty.

But you were drowning in him — specifically his power — and it was breaking you down minute by minute.

Jey yanked out of your throat abruptly, strings of spit connecting you as he tilted your head up.

“You done bein’ a fuckin’ brat yet, mamas?” he asked, voice rough with dominance.

You panted, spit running down your chin, mascara smudged, chest heaving — and somehow you still found a way to smirk.

“Not even close,” you croaked out, defiant.

Jey grinned — a feral, predatory flash of teeth.

“Good,” he said, dragging you up onto the bed, flipping you onto your stomach and second your body hit the mattress, smack— his hand came down hard across your ass, the sound echoing through the room.

“‘Cause I’m just gettin’ started.”

You jolted forward with a sharp gasp, but before you could catch your breath — SMACK — another slap, harder.

“You think you run shit, huh?” Jey grunted, landing another vicious spank, his palm connecting with the same tender spot.

You bit your lip, trying to muffle the whimper that climbed your throat.

“You think you can walk out,” smack, “mouth off,” smack, “and not get checked?” SMACK.

Your ass burned, the sting radiating up your spine. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes — not from pain alone, but from the way your body ached for him, despite your pride screaming not to give him the satisfaction.

He landed one final, punishing slap, making you yelp.

Your fists twisted the sheets under you.

And still — still — you couldn’t help yourself.

When he leaned down over your back, you huffed out:

“That all you got, bitch?”

Dead silence.

You couldn’t even turn your head before he grabbed your hips roughly, yanking you up onto your knees.

You barely had time to gasp before he slammed into you from behind with one brutal thrust, splitting you wide open.

You cried out, your walls fluttering helplessly around him.

“Keep talkin’ now,” Jey growled, snapping his hips against you, setting a ruthless, punishing pace right from the start.

The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, filthy and hot as fuck.

You clawed at the sheets, your body lurching forward with every savage thrust, but he just dragged you back onto him over and over again.

“You want rough?” slam

“You want punishment?” slam

“You fuckin’ got it, baby.”

He gripped your hair again, yanking your head back so you had no choice but to feel every inch of him stretching you to your limits.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you still bared your teeth — biting back your whimpers.

Jey let out a possessive moan deep in his chest — a dangerous sound — before he flipped you over onto your back in one brutal move, not even bothering to slip out of you.

You cried out from the sudden shift, thighs trembling from how deep he hit inside you now.

Before you could do anything, he grabbed both your wrists and slammed them above your head, pinning you down hard into the mattress with one massive hand.

His hips never stopped snapping into you, brutal and relentless, making the bed frame crash against the wall.

You squirmed beneath him — one last surge of bratty fight — but he just pinned you harder, grinding deep until you screamed his name without meaning to.

“Uh-uh, don’t run now,” he snarled.

“You was big n’ bad an hour ago you fucking slut..”

You shook your head weakly, tears sliding down your cheeks, your body betraying you completely — clenching around him, aching for him, loving the way he manhandled you.

“Say it,” Jey demanded, his forehead pressing to yours, hips punishing against yours.

You whimpered, trying to turn your face away.

He bit his lip and snapped his hips hard, making you cry out again.

“Say who you fuckin’ belong to!”

You panted, shaking, the fight finally leaving your bones.

The orgasm building between your legs made your head spin.

“You,” you sobbed brokenly beautiful.

“I belong to you, Daddy!”

Jey groaned in approval, slamming even deeper, grinding hard against your sweet spot.

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing your tear-stained cheek.

“All fuckin’ mine.”

He kept your wrists pinned, kept you trapped under him, until you shattered around him — your walls clenching so tight around his cock that he finally let go too, cumming deep inside you with a loud, guttural moan.

Pinned, claimed, ruined — exactly where you belonged.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Jey’s rough voice rasped against your ear:

“Lemme taste you, baby.”

You blinked up at him, dazed, lips parted — but you were too weak, too wrecked to stop him even if you wanted to.

Jey slid down your body slowly, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide, ignoring your feeble whimper.

You tried to squirm — still too sensitive, your pussy clenching around nothing — but desperate for something.

And then —

He buried his face between your thighs without mercy.

His tongue lapped greedily at the mess leaking from you — his cum, your cum, all mixed together — and he groaned deep in his chest like you were his last meal on earth.

You cried out, trying to twist away, the overstimulation making your legs kick, but he just gripped your thighs harder, forcing you to take it.

He devoured you shamelessly, not caring how sloppy, how wet, how absolutely filthy it was — in fact, he seemed to love it even more.

Your hands scrambled for the sheets, looking for something to hold onto as your body trembled uncontrollably.

When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with you, his eyes were molten.

But he wasn’t finished.

He crawled back up your body, pinning you down again easily, his mouth hovering over yours.

You could see it — the juices dripping from his bottom lip — seconds before he crushed his mouth to yours.

He kissed you hard, messy, his tongue forcing your lips apart, feeding you the taste of yourself mixed with him.

You whimpered into his mouth, too wrecked to fight it — tasting everything, gasping as he groaned into the kiss.

He pulled back just a little, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you panting.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, babygirl,” Jey murmured, his thumb brushing your swollen lower lip.

“You taste like mine.”

You whimpered again, your thighs rubbing together instinctively, even though you were already so wrecked you could barely think.

Jey smirked down at you as he brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

“You got one more in you, baby?” he asked, voice dark and teasing.

“Or you tappin’ out?”

And god help you —

Even after everything, that bratty little fire in you flickered again.

You blinked up at him and whispered:

“…Is that all you got?”

[izzih22]

ok so i got a fic idea: yk how azzis is like geno's fav and their ppls princess? like so basically i saw some comments somewhere saying she was like only featured that much cus shes genos fav and friends ( or more) with paige... (which like not true🙄 have u literally seen this girl shoot?!???) buttt can u maybe write a fic where like azzi read something like that and gets sad and insecure and paige comforts her

Earned

Note: sorry it’s a little short

Azzi Fudd is everyone’s favorite. Except, apparently, when she’s not.

The locker room had mostly cleared out after practice, laughter fading down the hallway. Azzi stayed behind, half-laced sneakers still digging into the mat, phone in her hand like it had fused there.

She shouldn’t have looked. She knew better than to check the comments under the latest team highlight post. But there it was, anyway. Bright and cruel on the screen, buried under a hundred heart emojis and fire reacts:

“She’s only getting minutes because she’s Geno’s fav lol”

“Let’s be real, if she wasn’t besties (or whatever) with Paige, she wouldn’t get half the attention.”

“Overrated. Pretty face and connections. Not game.”

Azzi’s fingers locked around the phone until her knuckles went white. She blinked hard, like that would wash it away. She could shoot until her legs gave out, put in more hours than anyone — it still didn’t matter to some people. To strangers who didn’t know a damn thing about what it cost her just to stay upright some days.

She didn’t even hear Paige come back in until the bench creaked beside her.

“You forgot your jersey, babe,” Paige said casually, tossing them in Azzi’s lap. “And your water bottle. And your soul, apparently.”

Azzi didn’t laugh. Didn’t even look up.

It took Paige about two seconds to clock the vibe shift. “Hey.” Her voice softened. “What happened?”

Azzi shook her head. “Nothing. Just tired.”

“Try again.”

When she didn’t answer, Paige leaned over and gently pried the phone out of her hand. Azzi didn’t fight it.

Paige didn’t need to scroll far to see it. Her jaw tensed. That familiar fire lit behind her eyes — the one she saved for game time and anyone dumb enough to mess with someone she loved.

“Who the hell—” Paige cut herself off, breathing hard through her nose. “You know this is bullshit, right?”

Azzi shrugged.

“Azzi. Look at me.”

Azzi did. Slowly. And Paige swore under her breath at the tears pooling just behind her eyes.

“You work harder than anyone. You play through more pain than anyone. You earn every damn second on that court.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Azzi whispered. “Sometimes it just feels like people think I’m only here because I’m… nice. Or pretty. Or… with you.”

Paige’s face crumpled just slightly at that. “That’s not true. That’s so far from true.”

Azzi looked away again, but Paige caught her chin and tilted it back. Gentle. Steady.

“Listen to me,” she said, low and intense now. “You’re not here because of Geno. Or me. Or because fans think you’re sweet. You’re here because you are the best shooter in the country, and you’ve earned every headline. Every minute. Every damn point. No one gave you anything.”

Azzi blinked fast, but the tears slipped out anyway. Paige caught one with her thumb, her hand still cupping her jaw.

“And for the record?” Paige added, quieter. “Even if I wasn’t in love with you, I’d still lose my mind every time you hit a three.”

Azzi let out a wet, half-laugh. “That was cheesy.”

“Yeah, well, you’re dating a simp. Deal with it.”

Azzi leaned forward, forehead pressed against Paige’s shoulder, finally letting herself exhale. Paige wrapped her up like she always did — strong, grounding, warm. No spotlight, no cameras. Just them. Where everything was earned. And everything was real.

[totalswag]

coachella baby ⎯ RAFE CAMERON!

authors note coachella fic is finally here. i know i went hiatus for a bit (again) but now that i finally had the time to finish my coachella fic ENJOY IT. kook and pogues are civil aka we love that. feedback is always appreciated <3.

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary attending coachella with your boyfriend and friends for the weekend to make amazing memories, watch artists perform, and just have fun.

warning(s) cursing, drinking, kissing, partying, mentions of loud music, and girls wearing badass outfits the whole trip.

The whole friend group made the biggest decision to fly out to Palm Springs for Coachella. Of course you all agreed. You’ve always wanted to go and now it’s finally happening, you couldn’t believe it. This is about to be a long eventful weekend.

Fast forwarding to today⎯Coachella day one. Everybody woke up this morning ready to start the day. The gates don’t open till one o’clock which gave everyone enough time to relax.

Morning started off with breakfast by the pool and mimosas. Laying by the pool with music playing from your speaker. The closer it gets to getting ready, you ran into the house to shower then get ready. The whole house was getting ready.

“Leaving in thirty minutes!” Sarah yelled from the kitchen reminding everyone it’s getting close to “go time” as she likes to say.

“Has anyone seen my other shoe?!” Topper yells from down the hall.

"Which one?" Kelce yells back. "Left, right, emotional support sneaker?"

"left, bro. I need the left," Topper practically screams.

Downstairs, Kie’s trying to untangle five different necklaces in the mirror while JJ runs through the living room like an absolute menace, a towel tied around his neck like a cape.

You were in your shared bathroom with Rafe putting the final touches of your makeup⎯leaning forward applying lip liner then you were finished⎯you looked hot.

“Are you tryna kill me or something?” Rafe says from behind with his arms crossed tilting his head to the side that makes you weak to the knees.

You turn your whole body around seeing him in full length⎯thin white button shirt with his tanned chest revealed, black cargo pants, white shoes along with his signature gold chain.

“Could say the same to you” you mock.

You roll your eyes, checking your outfit in the full-length mirror. “You’re one to talk. You look like a Calvin Klein ad got lost in the desert.”

He laughs and walks over, pulling you into him by the waist. “Then I guess we’re the hottest couple out there.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Ready, angel?”

The moment you arrived to the festival you found your way to the drinks⎯everyone made sure to buy waters too since the heat is no joke right now. Luckily there mini fans to buy at little tents.

Meanwhile, Cleo reaches in her back and brings out her small digital camera, and everyone gathers around.

"Okay, group photo first!" Cleo yells. "Then we'll do individuals and couple shots."

The girls cheer each other on the entire time, adjusting one other's accessories and swapping places. The girls looked unbeatable had to toe⎯each to their style⎯Sarah, Kie, Sasha, and Kendall.

“Y/N, tilt your head a little⎯yes! That’s it!”

“Cleo, you better send me every single one of these" you say in between pictures.

Meanwhile, the guys are doing whatever guys do when you put a camera in their hands. JJ and Kelce start making dumb poses, flexing muscles and arguing who's is bigger. Rafe just waits patiently, leaning back on one leg, watching you through dark lenses.

"You girls look so hot!" a group of girls yelled as they walked by. All of you compliment back with the same energy.

Couple photo's came out great. Cleo's camera does wonders with amazing quality too. All the couples outfits complimented each other in their own ways.

You slid into Rafe's arms, leaning into him. He placed a kiss just behind your ear, whispering, “You’re the hottest thing at this whole festival.”

“I think your ego is,” you teased.

“Debatable,” he murmured, brushing his nose against your cheek before the flash snapped.

Two hours into Coachella and it's been so much fun so far. You guys watched a few artists perform on stages⎯singing and dancing like your lives depended on it. Seeing what other's are wearing for day one was nice because everyone's vibe was different.

Watching different artists perform on stage felt like a fever dream. They all brought something different that made their stage presence unique⎯Tyla, Gorilla, The María's, and more.

Sunset paints the sky in bruised pinks and oranges, and everyone is glowing with sweat and happiness. Sunset pictures were a must.

Right now Missy Eliiott was performing on stage and you felt like shaking ass⎯you did. The energy she brought to the stage was unmatched. The crowd lost their shit the minute she started singing.

The guys were behind while the seven of you girls stood in front letting loose. "I am having so much fun!" Shay, Kelce girlfriend, says aloud, swaying her hips to the beat of the beat. You all agreed cheering then singing more of the lyrics.

You caught a moment alone with Rafe near a vendor, the two of you sitting on the grass. The bass from a nearby stage vibrated through the soles of your shoes. He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the night sky.

“This is kinda perfect,” he said.

You glanced over, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You mean me and you or Coachella?”

“Both,” he said, eyes flicking over to you. “But mostly you and me.”

You leaned in and kissed him, soft and sweet. He smiled into it, pulling you onto his lap with zero shame.

“Let’s never miss this weekend ever again,” he whispered. “Like… ever.”

The moment you guys have been waiting for⎯Lady Gaga⎯set to perform at midnight. One thing about Lady Gaga is she'll give it her all when performing. No one knows what she'll perform but you're most excited for her older songs.

When bad romance played you were at lost at words. The visuals were insane. You had your phone out recording the performance. Moving your phone to the rest of your friends in their own element.

Rafe reached for your waist, pulling you closer, the music vibrating between your chests. You moved with him, bodies so close that there wasn’t any air left between you. He wasn’t really dancing, not like the people around you were⎯he just held you, guiding your hips in time with the pulsing beat, like he didn’t want to let you slip away into the crowd.

When Gaga’s voice soared into the chorus⎯I want your love and I want your revenge⎯Rafe dipped you slightly backward, one hand cradling your lower back. You shrieked in surprise, laughing, gripping onto his shirt as the lights flashed wildly around you both.

Half way through Gaga's performance, she walked to the piano getting ready to sing the next song. Die with a smile starts playing on the keys. The whole crowd was silent at first then started singing along. You however, could feel your chest tighten up.

Rafe and you love this song. It means so much to you especially. Rafe is everything you want in someone. You allowed yourself to take a deep breath as you stared into Rafe's eyes.

Rafe tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and stared down at you with this look you could feel all the way to your toes.

“This song,” he said, fingers dragging slowly up and down your spine, “is exactly how I feel right now.”

You blinked up at him, chest pounding from more than just dancing. “How’s that?”

He leaned in, so close his breath warmed your lips. “you meaning the absolute the world to me and I wouldn't know who I'd be without you."

You give him a delicate smile playing with the ends of his buzz cut hair, "you have no idea how much I love you," and pull him down to kiss your soft lips.

By the time you made it to the house, everyone went their separate ways in their shared rooms. Coachella day one was one in the books and can't wait for the next two days ahead.

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[chrepsi]

ˇ ⋆ ╱ sugar water - m. sturniolo

highschool!matt x highschool!reader

wc ; 800+

it started with a glance.

not the cliché kind, not the one where your heart drops and violins play in the background. no. it was quieter than that—less fireworks, more like the fizz of a soda can cracked open in a silent room.

matt sturniolo was the kind of boy you noticed without realizing you were noticing him. he was soft-spoken, eyes always flickering like he was halfway between dreaming and listening. he moved like music on low volume, like the hum of a song you forgot you loved.

and i was... me. i blended in. i stayed in the quiet corners of the school hallways, chewing pen caps and pretending to be too busy to care that no one said hi.

we had third period english together. he sat two rows to the left and one ahead. i spent most of that class pretending not to look at him. pretending i didn’t wait for the moments he laughed at something the teacher said, or the rare times he tapped his pencil to the beat of a song only he could hear.

on a tuesday that felt like a thursday, it happened.

he turned around.

"do you get what she’s talking about? this poem?"

i blinked. swallowed. looked down at the page like it could give me the answer.

"sort of," i said. "it’s about... wanting to feel something. even if it hurts."

he looked at me. like, really looked. not with the wide-eyed curiosity most people wore like a mask, but like he could see through the layers. through the silence. through the sugar-water sweetness i tried to coat myself in.

"that makes sense," he said, and turned back around.

i didn't breathe for twenty seconds.

we didn’t talk again for a week. then two. then suddenly, he was waiting for me outside class.

"hey. you like music, right?"

i nodded.

"wanna hear something cool?"

he handed me one earbud, the wire warm from his pocket. i took it. the song was slow, sad, and beautiful. lyrics like diary entries. like things you think but don’t say.

we didn’t speak while it played.

and just like that, i started living for third period. for the moments between bells. for the way our silences didn’t feel awkward, just comfortable.

like sugar melting in warm water.

the first time he made me laugh so hard i cried, we were sitting under the old bleachers, hiding from gym class.

"do you think if i just walk into traffic i can get out of running laps?"

"only if I come with you," i said, and he grinned.

he had that kind of smile. like he didn’t know it could break people. like he didn’t know it was rare.

"deal."

the laughter came in waves, crashing over us until i was clutching my stomach and gasping for air. and he just watched, eyes wide and lit up like i was something worth seeing.

we never labeled it. what we were. we didn’t need to.

there were days we barely talked, days when he sat with his head in his hands and i didn’t ask why. i just sat beside him. let him be quiet.

other days, he showed up at my locker with a piece of candy or a sticky note that said something like, "you looked sad yesterday. here’s a dumb joke to fix that."

i kept every note in a shoebox under my bed.

one day, he asked me what i wanted most.

"to matter," i said, too fast. then i looked away, embarrassed.

he didn’t laugh. didn’t tease. he just nodded slowly.

"you do. even if you don’t always feel it."

and that night, i cried in the shower. not because i was sad. just because someone finally said it.

the cracks started small.

he stopped answering texts. started showing up late. the music in his earbuds got louder. his eyes got quieter.

"are you okay?"

he shrugged. "just tired."

but tired turned into distant. into cold. into gone.

the last time we spoke was under gray skies. i found him behind the school, hands in his pockets, head down.

"you’re pushing me away."

he didn’t argue.

"why?"

"because you see too much. and i can’t handle being seen right now."

i wanted to scream. to shake him. to say i didn't care how broken he felt, that i wanted all of it.

instead, i whispered, "i miss you."

he looked at me, eyes shining. "i miss me too."

and then he walked away.

now, third period is just a class.

i sit in the same seat. i read the same poems. but it all feels like static.

sometimes, i listen to the song he played for me that day. let it wash over me. let it sting.

because sometimes, sugar water still hurts going down.

because sometimes, people leave.

but they don’t disappear.

they echo.

and i still hear him in the quiet.

<3 taglist ; @trevorsgodmother @pr3ttylittleslutt @v4lsturn @wildfluer @delilahsturniolo @courta13 @kisses4chris @chrispycremedonut @chrisspussygang @stvrniolotrxpl3ts @baebadoobee4ever @emely9274 @mvkyis @mattsbug @sturniqloo @mattsleftball @tits4matt @mothstvrnz @joanakaulitz @mialovesyouchris @belle-ee @owenstar @sturnsalcohol @joanakaulitz @cherryystemm @angeliolo @sturkneeohloww

( reply here to be added )

[merakiui]

MERA!

What if darling who becomes fast friends with Georgina who frequently visits her small cafe and starts to have a big crush on her (Mama Leech leading her on, saying she'll leave Papa Leech to run away together) and is willing to do whatever to gain Georgina's affection and love that she agrees to go on an innocent date ("I just want you to meet my boys!~") with the tweels

Poor darling gets noncon'd by these two eels who are a LOT stronger than they look, realizing that Mama Leech was never planning on leaving her beloved husband, but instead, helping her sons who spotted darling way before she met Mama Leech~~

Am I making sense, do you see the vision (TwT)?

👁️ 👁️ I am SEEING the vision omg!!!!

What if it’s extra mean eels who bully you for falling for a married woman, their mother no less. Did you really think she’d ever entertain a romance with you? You really are such a dumb little Shrimpy. You feel so heartbroken to hear this. There was never any chance and yet you thought Mrs. Leech might be here as well—that’s the only reason you dressed so nicely!! >_< squished between the twins, their hands all over you, one even daring to slide up and under the skirt of your spring dress (after all, Georgina said flowers suit you best!), you really want to go home.

They drag you to a hotel (a property under management by the family business, so there’s really no escaping) and you’re given a room with a big bed. You try to reason with them; you only agreed to this “date” because you wanted to curry favor with their mother. While you’re thankful they paid for your lunch, you don’t think it’ll work out. And the twins just pout at you: “Aww. Why not? Is it because we’re not her?”

But you’re already inching towards the door. It’s not that… (it is). It’s just… Well, you’re pleased to have met them and spent time together like this, but now you really must be going. No hard feelings. Farewell… but you back up right into a hard chest and before you can squirm away two strong arms are curling under yours to hold you hostage and hoist you further from the exit. You don’t need to go running away so fast. Stay a while. Let them get to know you. That’s what you’re supposed to do on dates, you know. :)

You’re even wearing cute panties. No bra, and they tease you ruthlessly for that. What good is any of this going to do? If you were trying to seduce their mother, it never would’ve worked, they tell you, all while pinching and pulling your nipples, grinning down at you every time you cry out. You hold your arms over your face, embarrassed to be in such a compromising position, exposed to these terrible guys. “It’s not like that! I didn’t—” you try to protest, but then one of them is yanking your legs apart to inspect your panties. Floyd says they’re boring and lame. You’ve got to try harder than that. Jade will offer a sympathetic smile that’s somehow sharper than his own words: “Be nice, Floyd. The poor thing is doing the best she can.”

You feel so ashamed, but that melts away when you’re pushed into his crotch next, face to face with a dick that’s way too big for you. You try to move away, but the other twin holds you there. It’s horrible. You have no choice but to lean in and give it little kitten licks. There’s no way you’re putting your mouth on something like that. You promised to yourself you’d only save your firsts for Georgina!!!! T^T Jade pats your head like you’re a pet. He tells you to take your time, but once you shyly wrap your lips around his head Floyd’s shoving you down so you can choke on his length. It’s the worst!! You hate this so much. Your makeup is surely ruined from all your tears.

You’ll panic when you feel something prodding at your pussy next, your panties pulled to the side. With a mouth full of cock, you can’t tell him to wait, to stop, to wear a condom because you don’t want to get pregnant!! And he’s so cruel, bottoming out in one rough thrust that pushes you up against Jade, his dick poking the back of your throat. You’re trapped between the both of them.

It doesn’t end there. </3 they fuck you like you’re a toy they’re trying to break in, and by the end of it you’re sprawled out on the bed, covered in cum and sweat and blood from those sharp teeth making a chew toy out of you!!! Cum drooling from both your holes. Dress ripped and wrinkled. A phone is in your face next. “Go ahead and give us a big smile, okaaay?” You don’t want to. You don’t want anyone to see you like this, disheveled and used, makeup smudged and running in thick lines down your cheeks, lipstick all but rubbed off from so many hungry kisses. The camera shutters, capturing you in permanent debauchery. You want to cry, but you don’t have any tears left to shed.

Perhaps what’s most heartbreaking is that Georgina will be so pleased to welcome you into the family. You were nothing more than a lamb sent to slaughter, and look at you!! You made it back from the slaughterhouse. :) she’s proud. Worst of all, despite the twisted circumstances, it makes you happy to hear her praise you so fondly.

[palmolli]

Something is wrong with Sun. (Sky's Zelda)

Okay... so this is lowkey highkey far-fetched and a wee bit stupid... but I'm posting anyway because free will and uh... for fun.

These two pages are what sparked this dumb theory. You'd expect Sky and Sun to be exchanging letters regularly given their CLEAR attachment issues.

(Evidence of the attachment issues)

That's not "young love", Time. It is trauma. I doubt that was hyperbole given the crap Sky did to get Sun back home during the events of his game. The two are inseparable, basically two halves of one whole. Separate them if you dare.

OH WAAAIIT. They already are!!!

So why isn't Sun sending him letters? Now, there is a possibility she HAS been sending him mail. We just haven't seen it. Or, the postman just isn't visiting Sky's era since... he doesn't exist there, and he seems to only be giving out mail to the Links in the eras he exists in. And most Skyloftians just stuff a letter in their bird's beak and send em off with a pat on the back. They have no need for a mail man they have mail birds... but STILL...

Could there be an alternative, less factual, and reasonable explanation for her lack of letters?????

Uhhhh... honestly, this is more of a fanfic idea than a theory so.... why not.

THE SHADOW KIDNAPPED HER! YES! UH... PLOT DEVICE!!! CUZ SHES UH... HYLIA REBORN... AND STUFF... POWER SOURCE? REVENGE? PETTINESS? SIMPLY JUST TRYING TO BAIT SKY?!?!?!?!?

anyways... this is... so stupid... but... whatever. I've actually been really drained recently, so... no art... no writing... sorry. I needed to post like... SOMETHING. (yes, I posted that Hylia drawing, but I posted it a few days after drawing it) my creativity is gone, and all my writing drafts are so cheeks 💔 so.. eat up... I guess.... sigh MY HEAD HURTS

[puriiinz]

POSTED | smau abby a.

VI; ROLY-POLY

a/n: i only had the time to write this out bc they closed the schools after an earthquake 😭😭😭

contains: yn being kinda insecure? meds mentioned once, mental health mentioned with a slight joke, cursing and dumb bitches leading eachother

masterlist | next

yn woke up in the least flattering way possible; face smushed up, drooling on her pillow and an ache in her neck that made her wonder if sleeping was even worth it. blinking a few times to get used to the light coming in through the blinds, yn reached for her phone on instinct.

the notification staring right back at her, as if it was daring her to even think about reacting, made her want to turn back time and never wake up. freezing after realizing what it was saying and who it was from yn sat up and read it again.

and again.

and a few times more.

and then she threw her phone down on the bed because she couldn't scream (her neighbors would kill her).

it literally didn't even mean anything. abby always tweeted absurd and cryptic stuff. she was the type to make a post about someone instead of subtweeting, then acting like she wasn't shading anyone. it was just abby.

but abby being 'just abby' wasn't apparently enough for yn, because she went back and read abby's tweet for the nth time. no one's name was there, but yn's name wasn't there either. nothing and nobody was tagged except for her stupid hashtag that she loved to use when she wanted to stir something up. it was vague, open ended.

but it was the timing that made yn suspicious.

no. nope. yn wasn't doing this. she was NOT letting fucking abby anderson live in her brain, especially before even having breakfast. she was stronger than that.

maybe not really though...

the second yn opened her front door to take the trash out, she nearly walked straight into ellie's big ass head.

again.

"what the fuck." yn said, stepping back.

dina just smiled sweetly, holding up a bag of muffins from yn's favorite bakery. this only meant one thing: they were plotting something and needed yn to think critically (and not get angry).

"we come bearing gifts!"

"and questions," ellie added. "mainly questions."

yn sighed but let them in, deciding to be a good friend (she wanted muffins) and she didn't want to be alone, just to think about abby fucking anderson all day. especially not about her smile. and that day when she got too close to yn on the couch. no.

"so," ellie started, plopping down onto yn's couch and looking at her phone for a second before locking it. "you saw abby's tweet, i assume?"

yn tilted her head "why would you assume that?"

ellie rolled her eyes. "because! did you see it or no?"

"what tweet are you talking about? did she manage to get cancelled because of her eating habits or something?" trying to play it cool, yn tried her best to look and sound confused.

"the one saying 'some blah blah so cute blah blah when confused'. ring a bell?" ellie asked while melting into the couch.

"yeah because half of your sentence being 'blah blah' really helped me." yn sighed, "but yes. i saw it," yn said reluctantly. "it's vague."

"sadly, you're right." dina said. "that's why we're here," sitting next to ellie and sliding a muffin towards yn she added, "we're going to figure out who it's about."

yn nearly choked on air. "can i ask why i, fuck, even you would ever do that?"

"oh my sweet baby shnookums... because we're nosy, remember?" ellie said proudly. "and abby never tweets shit like that, like she was mental hospital level insane, so i can confirm she doesn't like life that much, let alone appreciate it. she tweets about needing to shit or something."

"so? people can change, you know?" yn tilted her head.

ellie put her hand on yn's shoulder, shaking her head sadly, "she's on meds baby..."

yn just stared at ellie with her mouth open.

"so," clapping her hands, "who do we think it is?" dina asked, already opening her notes app like she was doing something completely logical and serious.

yn stayed quiet, hoping they'd jump to her first, for god knows why. she didn't even like abby.

they did not.

"what about mel?" ellie offered. "she's kinda dumb, no?"

dina hummed. "maybe... but i don't think abby even talks to mel that much. also, doesn't mel have like, a whole ass kid now? don't think abby's into that."

ellie sighed, "you're right."

"what about maya from the gym?" dina wondered.

yn blinked. "maya?"

"she's super hot." ellie exclaimed. "and she definitely has a dumb little sister energy."

"the sister part wasn't necessary..." yn mumbled.

"pretty sure she almost walked into a pull door twice last week," dina added. "that must be abby's type, right?"

yn was beginning to regret letting them in.

"i don't think it's maya," yn muttered..

dina looked at yn with a glint in her eyes. "you got another suspect?" making yn shrug, trying to seem chill. "just saying... it might not even be someone we know."

"or maybe," ellie leaned forward, trying to look intimidating. "it is someone we know and abby's just being sneaky about it." taking a bite out of her muffin, ellie leaned back. "like maybe it's me."

"you?" yn echoed.

"i don't know, i'm cute?"

"you also think there are six continents..."

"exactly! clueless and cute!" ellie grinned, pointing at herself.

"i don't- whatever. i'm still on the maya train, " dina said, staring at her phone like it was supposed to answer her questions. "abby said she was helping her with her like, squat form or something last week. that feels suspicious. also tense."

yn was starting to wonder if, maybe, she was the delusional one. had she completely misread everything? the tweets? the grocery store mishap? the way abby leaned into her? was she desperate for love? pfft. no way.

maybe it was maya. or mel. or ellie with her dumb continent takes.

maybe abby was like that with everyone. maybe yn had just misunderstood because of abby. not because she was desperate, or egoistic.

"okay!" ellie said, standing like she was about to give a powerpoint. "we need to find out who she's talking about. and we can't just ask her because she would just lie. so, we need to catch her off guard. set a trap, perhaps."

"a trap?" yn asked.

"yes," dina said with full confidence. "you'll-"

yn looked like dina had admitted to committing war crimes. "wait. me?"

dina narrowed her eyes at yn, daring her to object. "yes, you. as i was saying... you'll talk to her. casually. and slip in a question like 'oh, haha! so funny. anyway who were you tweeting about?' and then bam! read her face."

"that's literally just asking her." yn stared at dina.

"it's not."

"also- how am i supposed to know who she's talking about by reading her face? will the persons name get spelled out on her face or something?"

dina rolled her eyes. "can you just... i don't know, interrogate her?"

yn stared at them with confused eyes. "you want me to interrogate her?"

"it's not an interrogation," ellie said. "it's... journalism."

"derective work," dina corrected. "consider it for charity, but for two people... and you i guess."

yn buried her face in her hands. "i hate you both."

"you'll thank us when you're her maid of honor." ellie sing-songed.

yn threw a wet wipe at her head.

[luigisleftshoe]

Frat Boy/College Luigi headcanons

Essentially what it would have been liked if you dated him in college 

I feel like he was a bit of a social chameleon back in the day. Like he can party and be the loud, fun, beer-pong god when he wants to be– but also once the final call of “IF YOUR NOT A BROTHER OR FUCKING A BROTHER” hes in his room grinding leetcode.

I feel like he's lowkey super cocky but in a very lovable way. Like talks big game but is a total sweetie pie when it comes to you. He's always super earnest and tries really hard not to mess it up. 

Is super anal about the rules during beer pong. “YOUR ELBOWS NEED TO BE BACK” ass bitch. He trash talks the entire time too. 

Will absolutely flex during beer pong if you’re watching.Over-the-top dramatic tosses just to make you laugh. Then grinning like a dumbass when you cheer for him.

Gets stupidly cocky when you’re winning. Points at you across the table like "THIS ONE RIGHT HERE. SHE’S A KILLER. SHE’S DANGEROUS." Chest out, grinning like he just invented beer pong himself.

Trash talks to the other team but immediately turns soft to you: Leans down, low voice in your ear: "You look so good when you’re competitive, babe. Kinda wanna take you home right now."

Lowkey he's the unofficial tech support of the frat house. Sets up the Wifi, fixes the smart TV and replaces the sound system. Whenever the brothers break something digital, they come knocking like “Bro you’re in CS fix it please”

Has an absolutely janky gaming setup in his frat house room. Like I feel like we all knew that one guy in college who brought his entire gaming setup with him and that was him. LED lights everywhere, cords tangled like a small jungle, and like monitors on too small of a desk. His room will be pretty spik and span tho. Like he does not give me messy vibes tbh. 

His room is the “safe” room. His personal room is surprisingly clean, smells good, has a half-dead succulent on the window sill, and is always stocked with energy drinks. He will absolutely pull you away from the chaos at a party to “take a break” in his room...and definitely hopes you’ll stay over.

Brings you to tailgates and makes you sit on his lap the whole time.(You’re wearing his oversized frat hoodie because you “forgot your jacket” — he 100% orchestrated this.)

You’re trying to study seriously. He’s trying to code. Every 15 minutes he gets bored and pokes you like "Babe... pay attention to me... look I made a stupid script that says I love you over and over." If you actually get mad because you’re stressed, he gets quiet for a minute...then gets up and brings you a Red Bull and kisses the top of your head like "Sorry. You're gonna crush it. I'll shut up now."

Every time you wear his hoodie to class, he texts you dumb, filthy things like "wearing my hoodie just reminds you who you belong to, huh babe?" followed immediately by "sorry that was horny, good luck on your midterm tho."

Pulls you into the coat closet at a party just to make out, then yells, "OCCUPIED!" if anyone tries to open the door. 

Takes advantage of "one bed" situations on frat formals like "well babe guess we have to share... what a tragedy... crazy how that happens."

Tries to act chill, but you catch him coding in the dark at 3AM, hoodie up, headphones in, completely tense. You have to climb onto his lap, steal his laptop away, and force him to take breaks because he literally won’t unless you make him. Once he realizes you’re taking care of him he melts, leans back into you, buries his face in your neck, mumbling "You're too good for me. I’m gonna marry you."

The “Designated Social Chair” (But Pretends He’s Not) He's not officially in charge of parties... but somehow he's planning 90% of them. Knows the bouncer, the bartender, and the delivery guy by first name. Will drunk-plan an entire formal event around "what theme would my girl look hottest in." (Fully votes for Casino Night just because he thinks you in a cocktail dress will ruin him.)

Sober Monitoring but Bad at It. Takes a turn being the "sober monitor" at a party. Takes his job way too seriously for about 30 minutes. By midnight he’s tipsy and yelling at a freshman about how to properly do keg stands, dragging you into it like "babe show him how it’s done."

Wear your hair tie around his wrist like it’s a friendship bracelet.

Tell the bartender you’re celebrating your anniversary even when you’re not just to get you free shots.

Will not let you walk home alone. Ever. Even if he’s blackout, even if you live two feet away — he's walking you.

Pulls you onto his lap at a party and lowkey grips your hips harder than necessary when you start to get up —growls in your ear like "Where you think you're going, baby?" (completely ignores the 30 people in the room.)

You dare him to go a whole party without touching you —he lasts maybe 20 minutes before hauling you into a dark hallway, caging you against the wall, and whispering,"You win. Happy? Now shut up and let me kiss you."

Makes out with you sloppily against the fridge at a party because he’s drunk and needy and has no shame.

At parties, he’s grinning and teasing and being everyone's favorite, but his hand is always somewhere low on your waist, thumb slipping under your shirt — just enough to keep you feeling it without anyone noticing. 

If someone flirts with you? He doesn't start drama. He just pulls you back against his chest, leans down all slow, and murmurs in your ear: "Think you're funny teasing me like that? Wait till we get home." (All while smiling like an angel.)

A very clingy drunk. Half-whining, half-muttering shit like: "You have no idea what you do to me, babe.", "I can't even think straight when you wear my clothes.", "Swear to god I’d skip rush week just to stay home and fuck you all night."

Sends you stupid texts like "wya" -> "i miss ur face" -> "also ur ass" -> "mostly ur face but also ass"  in rapid succession.

Oh but if your the one to flirt with him and make moves at the party man is a blushing mess. He doesn't know what to do. You flirt aggressively at a party? He blushes like a virgin and immediately forgets how to form sentences. Stammers something dumb like "babe don't play with me like that" while internally combusting.

Gets into “philosophy debates” drunk. Will randomly drunkenly corner you at 2AM like: "Babe... babe listen... what if life is just one big recursion function we’re stuck in."Has absolutely argued for 30 minutes that “love is just the optimal solution for biological survival” and then kissed you like his life depended on it.

[creatingblackcharacters]

I apologise for reblogging so many of your resources and then not actually doing much with them creation wise. 

I was unhappy with some of my art and looked for ways to improve which is how I found this page… however I’m still pretty art blocked and intimidated by the process. RL is also a lot.

Anyway! I was wondering if it would ever be cool to make a Black lady character just because I need a character and she can just as well be Black? (Provided it’s respectful and she’s well thought out.)

——

Also I had an ask about hairstyles for her. She’s one of the employees in a library-slash-archive that both preserves mysterious artifacts and contains supernatural cryptids that are too powerful to easily be destroyed. So she dresses like a librarian but has to be practical enough to handle danger like Canary from Hunter X Hunter.

For some reason I thought about twin puffs on top of her head (from seeing that on a fashion model and Aika). So far this is my favourite and how I see her. Quick, low tension, out of the way, doesn’t change the texture of her natural 4c hair. But are twin buns too juvenile or anime? She’s a young adult in her twenties and a smart competent lady. 

To make her have one big pineapple a bit like the stereotypical librarian bun might make her seem a bit more mature or more senior at her job when she’s one of the younger employees temporarily assigned to guard/guide/escort the player. (There is already an older Black lady higher up in a different role but she might not appear as she’s not my own character.)

Are puffs too casual? 

Locs and braids with beads could swish around come untied and slap into her eyes if something unexpectedly happened. 

But cornrows straight back seem a bit utilitarian if the wards are in place and she isn’t expecting active combat. I also don’t know if they’re tighter braids that can be uncomfortable or hard on someone’s scalp when worn everyday as an unchanging long term style? (These could go to someone who is expected to regularly be fighting.)

Are there natural styles that are reliable go tos for work?

She looks cool but likes comfort. Her clothes are dark academia inspired and not revealing. It’s possible the style of someone’s clothing/uniform or hair is a bit different according to their role or rank. It must look smart but there is some room for individuality.

(Some suggestions for the higher up Black archaeologist who usually looks very feminine but is on a dig/artifact retrieval mission would also be appreciated! I know she would need to protect her hair from dust or the pulling of the ether but I am aware there were historical racist laws/misogynoir about hair coverings and I am unfamiliar with styles of wraps.)

——

Also her manner. She’s professional but knows the dangers so gets annoyed and a bit snarky when the player does dumb things or disobeys a direction that is to keep them safe. She might roll her eyes at the choices made or ask ‘really?’ If the player gets themselves killed after running into harms way or being told not to touch something, she may finally call them a fool.

Is this playing into stereotypes of being sassy or having ‘an attitude’ or is it normal behaviour when the player is truly being a dumbass and maybe it’s a bit funny?

——

Anyway there’s no pressure to answer this. Sorry if I should have looked at hair guides for myself, I just don’t have a sensitivity reader or anything. 

Thanks if you read all of it and thanks for creating these resources. 

I may not draw a lot but I’m seeing other artists pick your posts up too and am noticing increasing variety in the hairstyles and skin tones of everybody’s Black characters.

-Why would that not be okay? Deciding your character is Black just because you want them to be is fine, it's the lack of effort afterwards that shows an issue.

-Double puffs are fine, people can do what they want with their hair. If that's what she wants to do with it, it's her style, who cares how anyone feels about it? A singular afro puff doesn't, in my opinion, designate maturity? Like... The rest of the outfit would do that before an afro puff would. I've seen people of all ages wear puffs.

-She could also wear cornrows if she wanted cornrows. It is just a style! It's not like any of the styles we wear are mandatory or "not allowed unless specific times". Some people just like wearing cornrows, I have a coworker who always wears hers just because she likes them. Yeah, all protective styles feel tight at first due to the manipulation of the hair. It loosens up after some time (assuming it was done right and they weren't terribly heavyhanded to your head).

-The natural styles we pick would depend on 1) us as a person, 2) how much time we're willing to put in, and 3) the job we have (and hair discrimination, if that is present). So no, there's no strict "go to".

-I think you need to look up the time period that you're referencing for the older archaeologist, to see what hairstyles are available.

I'll be firm but honest with you: I do think that you need to reread the lessons or attempt your own digging here, and I say that because I feel like you came here guilty for not having done so. I have those lessons on stereotypes for Black women and how to avoid those, I have those lessons on hair styles and things to consider, and even links on hair history and hair discrimination. So I'll admit your apology did make me uncomfortable, in that regard.

As for my outreach, I should hope people are looking and trying new things! I can only hope their excitement for Black character design extends to their Black peers as well 🙏🏾 thank you!

[fluemsiie]

time to go [d. winchester ]

synopsis. dean finds you high at an after game party notes. 800 words, mentions of cheating, getting high, romanticised drugs, being a crappy boyfriend, all charachters are eighteen in their senior year, samjess!! — comments & rbs appreciated. ++ second part coming super soon

“hey, stop it!” you turn around as dean’s grip on your wrist tightens and he pulls you into his chest, “why the fuck are you acting like this?”

you smile, “like what?” a small giggle, a flirty hand on his abs, a sniffle from the cocaine.

“like— i don’t know, a slut.” it’s mean, and something dean’s never called you, but still, it didn’t deter you so completely that you pushed him away, just rolled your eyes. his eyes do a once over. “what is this,” his finger comes up to just below your nose, rubbing the white powder off. “are you on drugs?”

“oh my god, d, you are such a baby! james is selling them for really cheap. just a blowjob.” you take your hand back and blow him a kiss. you feel too good right now to even be remotely affected by anything he says. this is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

your cheerleading outfit is doing something to every single guy at the party, and they’re not afraid to show it. a few of them are so touchy, you’re pretty sure someone finger’s are in your panties.

your drunk giggle catches dean’s attention from across the room where he’s talking to his brother. “yeah, we’re leaving, grab jess,” sam nods and walks to the bathroom to grab his girlfriend while dean makes his way over to you. you’re technically his girlfriend’s best friend but tate is nowhere to be found right now and he’s sure she’s fine, you’re all he cares about.

“hey, guys, c’mon, leave her alone.” dean winchester, star of the high school basketball team. his word goes in an instant, well, with some groans. the boys let go of you and your pout turns more of them on. dean intertwines your hands together. “yeah, how about ice cream, sweetheart?”

and god, you couldn’t be happier about that.

when all four of you are in the car, and a friend of tate’s informs her you’re gone, dean starts driving to the winchester’s beach house, much closer than any of your homes. jess’s parents have long given up on knowing their daughter’s whereabouts and your parents haven’t seen you since you became a freshman. you’ll be fine.

sam complains in the beginning that he’s in the back but then a quick kiss from his girlfriend shuts him up, which is great because dean wants nothing more than to keep an eye on you. you’re choosing different songs, changing the radio and then sticking your head out of the car window.

at the beach house (thank god your head’s still intact), everyone is stumbling up to the beds. sam and jess take the guest room, you and dean take his room. he’ll probably end up sleeping in the master anyway so he places you down on the bed, fully intending to leave before you catch his wrist. “you’re leavin’?”

“yeah, we need to go to sleep.” and you’re so fucking out of it he’s scared to even look at you right now. dean’s a decent guy, despite what people say. he’ll cheat on tate but he won’t force himself on a girl. there’s a balance to these types of things.

”i don’t want you to leave, d. stay. please?” and god, he tries so hard to resist that damn pout.

“the bed hardly fits me, let alone the both of us—” your uninterest is obvious as you pull him done on top of you with a laugh and he only groans. “god, you’re killing me.” when he situates himself, sliding next to you, close enough that you push yourself into his space. “why’d you take drugs, cheer?” the dumb nickname makes you let out a small laugh but it isn’t much to hide your tears.

yeah, so what if you’re moody when you’re high? “‘s fun. you know that, you did shots off of three girl’s stomach’s today.”

“yeah but i didn’t get high.”

“yeah cause coach has these testy things for you guys! otherwise you would’ve done it. and it’s so good, d,” you bite your bottom lip, already happy again, looking up at him. it’s not enough so you sit up, you hands on his chest as you look into his eyes, “it’s was amazing, and i felt everything the guys were doing, every touch and noise and i also felt nothing at all, i swear—”

yeah, the problem is that he believes you. “i know, i know.” he wraps an arm around your back so you settle down, head under his. he sighs, pulling you closer. “we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

“mm. i have cheer practice tomorrow.” yeah, he knows. he has a date with a furious tate.

next

[htchnr]

꩜ walkin' home 𑣲 WADE KINSELLA.

𖦹 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𖦹 𝐛𝐮𝐲 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢!

「 ꜜsummary,, Wade and George end up in jail, so you bail them out. not without taxing Wade for his behaviour. author notes at the end. 」

「 ꜜcontent,, teasing ⋆ all fluff ⋆ r rightfully being a little mean to Wade ⋆ not beta'd yet cause i'm tired. ꜜwc,, 1,5k. 」

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

Wade drops against the jail bed, " anyway, i think he violated some kind of law by taking away our phones. i should have been able to call my lawyer. "

George lets out an exasperated sigh, turning to face Wade. " your lawyer was hanging on to the other end of a tree that you tricked him into stealing! " he pauses, letting out a deep breath before standing. " i mean, god, Wade! you know, you never cease to amaze me, 'cause your immaturity knows no bounds! "

the moment Wade wants to yell back, the Sheriff knocks against the metal bars, the sound reverberating through the space.

" gentlemen, someone's here to pick you up now. and keep the tree. Mr. Reese has dropped all the charges. and i hope the night in jail has taught you boys a lesson. " the man lists off.

Wade puffs up his chest, " why, yes, Sheriff, it's taught me an invaluable lesson. it taught me that you're a horse's-- "

you step into view from behind the Sheriff, arms crossed. Wade stops mid sentence as his locks eyes with you, all words drying out at the sight of the look on your face and your pyjamas.

George chuckles nervously, " yes, sir. it did, sir. " he looks over to you, " thank you so much. " you nod, offering him a smile. he looks back at the Sheriff. " and it will not happen again. " he assures the man.

the Sheriff unlocks the cell door, swinging it open before walking away. Wade starts to mutter something under his breath, George is quick to smack him. " hey- ow! "

George nears you, brushing past you and out of the cell first. " thank you so much for this, i am so sorry for the inconvenience. "

you laugh, the laugh that Wade knows means trouble. " c'mon now, can't have you stuck in here for somethin' dumb, now can we? "

Wade nears you, and you know the quick apologetic look. " baby, i am so-- "

" uh uh, you save it for when we're back in town. " you huff, turning around to head out. Wade blinks, nodding quickly as he jogs to catch up behind you and George.

you step out into the humid night air, yawning as you stretch your arms. " y'all are mighty lucky that i happened to still be up. " twisting the keys so you could unlock George's truck.

who glances over, noticing Wade's car parked beside it. " hey, let me drive the truck home, then you can take Wade 'n his car. "

you shake your head firmly. " uh uh, i'm driving you both home. i've promised Lemon that much. as for Wade's car, he can walk back tomorrow to pick it up. "

Wade starts sputtering behind you, " baby! i said i'm-- "

you spin around to face him, " nothin' more outta you mister. you sit pretty in the back seat while you think about what to say when we're back at your place. " George stifles a laugh, getting into the passenger seat.

Wade grumbles, " yes ma'am.. "

you grin tiredly, closing the door after getting into the drivers seat. " well then, let's all get back to our homes and beds. "

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

you close the car door after getting out, chucking George's keys to him. " i already told Lemon what she needed to hear, i suggest you don't do any talkin' when you get in there. " you explain, leaning against his truck.

George nods, " thank you for this. "

you wave him off, " trust me, it ain't a problem. you have a good night okay? speak soon! " you nod your goodbye, turning around to face Wade. " now go'on, get to walking. you have all the time in the world to explain yourself on the way home. "

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

" George needed a tree for Lemon! and i didn't exactly know that Stella's dad would.. call the Sheriff on us.. " Wade rambles, stepping up his porch steps.

you hold up your hand to silence him, your other hand swinging the porch screen open and unlocking the front door. " i heard enough tonight. " you yawn, kicking off your shoes once inside. Wade closes and locks the door, turning on the lights.

you run your hands down your face, eyes closed in exhaustion. in reality, you couldn't fall asleep before the Sheriff called. you're so used to Wade sleeping next to you, without him it felt off.

he slowly steps in front of you, slender, calloused hands smoothing up either side of your waist. " baby, m'sorry. okay? it was a stupid spurr'o the moment thing, i promise it'll never happen again. "

you huff, leaning forward to rest your head against his chest. he smiles to himself, arms wrapping around you comfortingly. " don't promise somethin' you know will inevitably happen again. " you yawn, nuzzling your face into his shirt.

" alright, i won't.. " he too yawns a little.

you hum, slouching against him. " for now, you can start makin' it up to me by takin' me to bed. i'm damn exhausted cause'o you, mister. "

Wade lets out a breathy laugh, rubbing up and down your back. " alright, let's get you settled in again. " he leans down, snaking an arm beneath your knees as he lifts you into his arms.

he kicks off his boots, smiling as you let out a content breath in his arms. he carries you to his bedroom, laying you down on the bed. he pulls off his shirt and tank, throwing them haphazardly across the room.

when Wade turns back to the bed, he smiles at the sight of you curling up beneath his covers. he gets in beside you, sneaking an arm beneath your shoulders as he pulls you against his chest. he too, can't sleep well without you.

you let out a deep, tired breath as you rest your cheek against his bare chest. your hand comes up to rest against his stomach. he presses a kiss to your hair, settling more into the bed.

" g'night, sweetheart. " he breathes, eyes closing.

you smile against his chest, " g'night. "

it's quiet for a beat, before he breaks the silence. " so, i don't really have to walk back alone to get my car, right? "

you groan, dramatically rolling off his chest and turning your back to him. " baby, honey, please.. " he pleads, a hand smoothing over your hip. " at least go with me? "

he wraps his arms around you, tangling your legs together. his nose nudges against shoulder. " the only way you're gettin' me to come along, is on your shoulders. i ain't walkin' all that just for your car. "

he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. " you know what, i'll take it. 'least i get to spend my morning walkin' with your thighs 'round my head. "

now it's your turn to groan. " you're gon' sleep on the couch f'you don't shut up right about now. "

he grins, pressing a few kisses against your shoulder. " c'mon now, you wouldn't. you and i both now you need me here to sleep. "

you huff, reaching back to pull his strong arm around your waist tighter. " just shut it 'n sleep. " you grumble. " been up all night worryin' 'bout you. "

he grin widens, humming along. he nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing in deeply. " sleep tight, baby. " you hum back, dozing off.

「 authors note,, y'all this was so fun and cute to write 🤭🫠. after watching ep10 s1 (what this was directly based off) i just haddd to write this 🤭. ꜜwade taglist,, @imnez-daydreams @karinas-void . 」

𑣲 join the taglist ٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ

[manlikeazi]

hi I love your work so so much and i was really hoping you could do an Aj one where they break up and he goes and begs for forgiveness ik you did a Sharky one already but am desperate for an Aj one it was so goood

Fix It, Right Now - Aj Shabeel

Summary: You and Aj gets into a fight and all it takes for Aj to apologize is a serious talk and a bunch of chaos.

Pairing: Aj Shabeel x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist

Note: This req is similar to the one I received on wattpad so I just kinda did it both in this one lmao.

The Beta Squad mansion was unusually quiet. Tense. The kind of silence that made even the sound of a spoon tapping a mug feel like a drum solo. 

 Aj sat on the couch, arms crossed, staring blankly at the TV. It was on but he wasn't watching. He hadn't said a word in hours. 

 Because you were mad at him. Rightfully so.

 The fight had started earlier that afternoon. You'd called him out gently on constantly brushing off your feelings, especially around his friends. Instead of taking it seriously, Aj, in typical Aj fashion, deflected with sarcasm. 

You left the room, furious, hurt, disappointed and eyes glossy and then telling him you needed space. Then that space had turned into hours. Long ones.

////_////_////_////

Chunkz was the first to step in. He walked into the room, hands in his pockets, eyes focused, no jokes just serious older brother mode. He stood in front of Aj, blocking the TV. 

 "You gonna keep being an idiot or what?" Chunkz said, looking at Aj straight in the eyes.

"Not in the mood, man" Aj said as he didn't even blink, trying to look past Chunkz. 

"Yeah? Well I'm not in the mood to watch my boy throw away the best thing that's ever happened to him 'cause his pride's doing pushups in the back of his brain" Chunkz said as he observed Aj who stayed quiet. 

"Listen to me yeah? She loves you, bro. She's patient, kind, good to you and you treat her like she's just gonna wait around forever? Grow the hell up" Chunkz said as you next to him and wrapped his one arm around Aj.

 Aj's jaw clenched. 

 "Say one more dumb thing and I swear I'll slap the ego outta you" Chunkz said, voice low, eyes dead serious. 

"This isn't about you being right. This is about you being better. Fix it. Now" Chunkz added as he straightened up, gave Aj a long, final look, and walked out. 

////_////_////_////

Then hours after Chunkz's talking to, there came Sharky. 

 Subtle, surgical and annoying. 

"So... how's it feel knowing you're gonna be single before sundown?" Sharky said as he plopped down next to Aj and stretched. 

"Piss off, get out of here man" Aj said as he side-eyed him. 

 "I'm just saying" Sharky replied casually 

"It takes a special kind of talent to ruin something good and act like you're the victim" Sharky said with a small smile. 

Aj felt uncomfortable and shifted to try and look more composed.

"You know what I noticed? She used to always laugh when you entered a room. Like, proper light-up-the-space laugh. Haven't heard that today" Sharky said as he leaned forward, voice lighter now. 

Aj didn't respond.

 "You good at making jokes, yeah but you're also good at making people cry, apparently" Sharky said. 

 That one stung and it was meant to. 

"You'll either apologize tonight or regret it every day after. Your choice, Romeo"  Sharky said as he clapped him on the back and stood. 

////_////_////_////

After Chunkz and Sharky's annoying attempt of making Aj feel even more horrible than he's currently feeling a few hours ago. Then, came chaos. 

Because Niko and Kenny just bursted into the room dressed in... costumes? 

Kenny wore a bedsheet like a toga, holding a plunger like a sword. Niko had wrapped himself in fairy lights and was holding a speaker over his head playing "Let Me Love You" by Mario. 

 "What the hell--" Aj started. 

 "WE'RE HERE TO SAVE YOUR RELATIONSHIP!" Niko said, dramatically. 

"On behalf of love itself, we command you to get off your sorry arse and APOLOGIZE" Kenny said as he stepped forward dramatically. 

"THIS ISN'T ABOUT PRIDE" Niko said, twirling. 

"IT'S ABOUT HEART AND COMMON SENSE" Niko added. 

 "Do it for her" Kenny said as he begged, fake tears streaming from under his sunglasses. 

"Do it for the story! The grandchildren!" Kenny added.

 Aj stared at them both. Didn't knew whether to be terrified or disgusted by the threatics of his friends. 

 "...Y'all are actually insane" Aj said. 

"Correct" Kenny replied. 

"But we're also right" Niko added.  

"And now she's down there, sad and waiting. Go fix it" Niko said as he pointed to the hallway. 

 And suddenly, between Chunkz's lecture, Sharky's jabs, and these two lunatics prancing around like emotional backup dancers... Aj got it. 

////_////_////_////

After all the convincing doings of his friends, from Chunkz's intimidation to Niko and Kenny's chaos. Aj found his courage to apologize. He walked down the hall, heartbeat loud in his ears. Stopping in your door. Well, technically his door because it's originally his room in the mansion.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out the window, knees tucked up. He knocked softly. 

 "...Yeah?" You said softly, voice done well on trying not to crack.

"Can I come in?" Aj said as he opened the door. 

 You didn't answer right away, hesitating and thinking if this will start another fight but then you gave it a chance as you gave a small nod. 

He stepped inside and sat beside you. For a moment, he didn't say anything. Then said.

"I was a prick, a jerk" Aj said. 

You looked at him, surprised at the bluntness. 

"I made a joke instead of listening and that's on me. I hurt you, I dismissed you and that's not the kind of man I want to be, not for you" Aj said, his sincereness can be noticed in his tone. 

Your eyes softened, but you stayed quiet. You knew Aj wasn't really open about his feelings and when he did open up, it's always the truth.

"I thought being chill meant not being emotional but that just made me cold. I didn't mean to make you feel like your feelings didn't matter. They do, you do" Aj said looking into your eyes, apologetic. 

"I'm sorry, baby, for real" Aj said as he reached for your hand. 

"You made me feel small" You muttered. 

 "I know" Aj whispered. 

"And I'll spend every day making you feel like you're the biggest thing in my world because you are" Aj added. 

You stared at him for a long beat... then finally melted into his arms, holding him tight. 

"I missed you" You mumbled into his hoodie. 

"I missed you too" Aj said as he breathed into your hair. 

"I promise, I'm learning. Just... don't give up on me yet" Aj added. 

"I'm not going anywhere" You said then you leaned back just enough to kiss himsoft, slow, and forgiving. 

////_////_////_//// 

Back in the Living Room where four members of the beta squad sat on the couch, waiting for Aj to comeback with you or just any sign that you both fixed the problem already.

"Do you hear that?" Niko said as he peeked around the corner. 

"They're not yelling" Kenny whispered. 

"That's a good sign" Kenny added. 

"Told you jabs work" Sharky said as he grinned. 

"And a little talking to" Chunkz said with a small smile, arms crossed. 

They waited. Then, Aj and you walked out, hand in hand, your eyes still a little red but smiling. Aj looked... lighter. 

 Everyone tried not to cheer.Then Niko dramatically pressed play on the bluetooth connected speaker again. 

 "LET ME LOOOOOVE YOUUUU--" The speaker spat out loudly and all of you bursted out laughing then just like that, everything felt right again.

- end -

Hello lovelies!!! Top tier consistency, basically carrying the fanfic side of the beta squad rn. Ha! Kidding.

I hope y'all have an amazing day, absolute love and guidance.

As I said everytime, send in some request and ideas!!

[howlett-dekarios]

𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑

▏Trilogy!Logan x Reader

▏Summary: You were the perfect student of Scott's. But after you've came back form university, you've changed and Logan can't stand it.

▏Warnings: dom!Logan | virgin!reader | NSFW | MDNI | big breast | | breast play | slight overstimulation | kinda mean!Logan | unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) | spanking | Logan calling reader names | male masturbation |

▏Word count: 3,5k

First days in school were a very weird experience for him. Being around so many kids and a few teens who were genuinely interested in studying here. The place itself being some sort of safe space for them. Truly unusual to watch something from so close, or even being considered a part of. Xavier wasn’t pushing him into anything though, rather giving him time to adjust to the new reality. Logan didn’t really feel like matching the whole vibe. Being a responsible adult, an example for youngsters.

He was called by Charles into his office. What he didn’t expect though was to be bumped into on his way in.

“Of course Professor, it will be done as soon as possible-“ A young woman's voice was stopped when her head hit the hard chest of Howlett. Her gaze quickly rose and was met with his unreadable eyes. “I-I’m so sorry Mister..”

“I’m Logan, kid.” His voice stern. “You should be more careful.”

“Yes, of course, I’m so sorry.” She stuttered. This guy wasn’t giving the nicest aura. Big, grumpy and intimidating with the cigar between his lips. “It’s my fault, I-“

“I’m just kidding, kid.” He gave her a teasing smirk, definitely enjoying how she had been panicking just seconds ago. Logan was a bastard who was well aware of his posture. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure..” Her red cheeks made him smirk even more. Are all students like this girl? “Goodbye, Professor, have a nice evening. Same for you Mr. Logan.” And with that she left as fast as possible, embarrassed by the whole situation she put herself into.

“Take care, bub.” His attention focused on Charles again. “Are all of them so scared?” The question was rather sarcastic one.

“I prefer the term of well behaved and polite.” The man in the wheelchair smiled and got back to sorting documents that were stuffed on his desk. “Besides Y/n is one of the best students here. Very smart and well raised young woman.”

“Oh is she?”

“I’m quite positive. She was asking me for the recommendation letter for the university she wants to get into.”

“They can do that?” Logan was honestly surprised. He couldn’t really imagine graduating from such school and being accepted in a ‘normal’ world later.

“It’s not so common unfortunately. Most students prefer staying here and becoming teachers like Jean or Scott. That or move out to the countries where the knowledge about mutant kind is less advanced.”

“They’re running away from reality-“

“Seems familiar?” Charles gave him that knowing look which other mutant already hated from the first day here. Older professor was actually one of the few people who had the ability not to take offense and even mouth back. Old ‘I know everything’ bastard.  “But I didn’t call you here to talk about Y/n performance in studies. You made your decision, Logan?”

Howlett wasn’t dumb, well knowing about what exactly this question was. Him staying in the mansion. If he was ready to fit into school reality. To deal with kids, or worse, with Scott. But what choice did he really have in that matter? It was that or coming back to the shadows. To live from paycheck to paycheck, getting any non-attachment job, vanishing as soon as someone realized who he truly was. And here? As much as Logan hated to admit it, it started to feel like home. Being accepted, doing whatever he wanted without needing to think about being discovered. A stabilization he never thought he really needed.

There was one more thing. He was in debt to Charles. For all the help the old man provided him with getting back the memories. For making it possible to puzzle all his life together. Such sort of debt wasn’t something a man can forget just like that. Or at least Logan couldn’t.

“I’m gonna stick around. No teaching though.” Not yet at least. He wasn’t ready for such responsibility.

“A babysitter then?” Xavier laughed, which only made the other man roll his eyes.

“I can train older ones.” Make himself useful by the skills he has. Not much but could be good to start.

“Very well, so be it Logan.”

And that’s how he officially became part of the life of the mansion.

For the next month Logan hasn’t gotten a lot of occasions to cross his way with Y/n. She was too focused on her studies and getting ready for the university life she planned for herself, and he definitely wasn’t the type to beg her to move her ass and join the training with the rest of teens. He really couldn’t point out why every other member of the team was so fascinated about that girl. Sure, she was nice, kind and smart, but that wasn’t making her anyone special in his mind.

That’s how on her last day in the mansion Logan was indifferent towards her. When Scott and Storm were all teary, hugging her and wishing luck, he stayed aside, watching it from the far corner of the room.

“Mr.Logan-“ Her face made it clear she didn’t know what to say after that.

“Just Logan, bub. You’re a grown up so act as one.” Maybe a bit too rude, judging by Jean killing gaze he felt on himself. “Just do your best there and don’t let anyone boss you around. If all I heard about you from Charles is true, then I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Thank you.. Logan.”

“Y/n we need to go, you’ll be late for the tour around campus.” Scott called her after packing everything in the truck.

“I’m coming.” She smiled at Logan one last time. “Sorry for not attending your classes.”

“Yeah, whatever, it was your choice.” He shrugged, patting her arm. “Just don’t bump into anything on your first day there.”

“I won’t-“

“Y/n!”

“Coming!”

And just like that she was gone, starting a new chapter.

It was quite funny how history repeated itself.

After five years and graduating from the university she was once again at home. Talking with Professor about wanting to come back. To help both the school, since she had a degree in psychology so she could help students to understand their emotions, but also to fulfill her responsibilities as a mutant. Charles has always been saying how her mutation was so unique and how much it could serve for goodness.

In those few years she understood where she should be. Who she should be helping. As a successful psychologist it would be so easy to just open her own practice and make good money, but deep down Y/n got the feeling that it wasn’t what would make her happy. Being surrounded by normal people, hearing all the hideous things they’ve been saying about her kind.. it just made it more clear. It wasn’t her world. She wasn’t welcomed in it. She never should’ve left the mansion.

She was so stuck in her own mind that she didn’t notice the body in front of her. Not until her nose sunk deep into someone’s white wifebeater.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“

“Old habits die hard, huh?” Deep voice made her realize who exactly she bumped into. Again.

At this point Y/n was sure that the universe is just playing its most hilarious pranks on her.

At first Logan didn’t recognize her.

Those five years changed her entirely. From a nineteen girl who he had only seen with her nose in the books, to a fully grown woman.

Fuck, a very attractive one too.

The upper messy bun, the white shirt and dark shorts which left very little to the imagination.. If the concept of glow up was real, then it sure as hell could be used in her case. He really needed to double check if it was actually her.

“Logan.”

“Y/n.”

They’ve been looking at each other and if not for Charles, it quickly could’ve been awkward.

“Good to see you here Logan, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Man in a wheelchair smiled and pointed at his student. “Y/n decided to join the team. But she will need a little bit of training before she can go for the missions. I believe your teaching skills could be useful for us.”

“And how do I know she won’t bail it all like the last time?”

“I’ve changed.”

“Yeah, I can see it.” Quite literally. One was sure, if Scott could see his thoughts right now, he would probably beat his ass because none of them were appropriate. “Fuck, alright.”

“Excellent. Welcome back Y/n.”

Next weeks were true torture. Watching her in clothes that wrapped her body tightly. All sweaty and with a face that showed true motivation to win against him. One thing he learned about Y/n was how university indeed changed her. From a polite and shy student, to a bratty and confident woman. Testing his patience limits whenever she opened her mouth.

Every night he was coming back to his room, getting in the shower and getting off to the thoughts of her in his bed. Laid down naked, spread all just for his pleasure. Her mouth finally shut up by his dick inside, abusing her throat. Logan wasn’t certain why it all made him so on edge, but something in her just made it impossible for him to focus. The thoughts of her irresistible.

He couldn’t act on it though. She was too young for him. Being the precious girl of Scott and Charles, the brightest and so perfect student of theirs.

But one evening made him lose it all.

“Always having such a fucking smart mouth bub, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, while having a strong grip around her throat. “Never taking my advices-“

“Maybe I would if you wouldn’t have your eyes on my tits all the time.” She mouthed back, using her power to form a dagger and sticking it into his lower stomach. “You’re always so grumpy, why is that? Haven’t put your dick into anything in a long time?” The bluntness of her words took him completely off guard since Logan was sure about hiding it rather well. 

Those few seconds gave her enough time to pin him to the floor, her legs on his chest and another dagger white energy dagger near his throat.

“I won.” Y/n gasped, clearly out of breath. After weeks of sparrings and constant failures she’s finally made it for the first time.

Her being on top of him was enough for Logan tho. In a second he rolled over, strong arms pinning her to the training matt.

“Get the fuck out.” He groaned, looking into her eyes. He wasn’t playing anymore. “We are done.”

There was no way of him working with her ever again. 

For hours Y/n was debating on how to approach Logan. What she should say, how to apologize to him. She took it too far, using some cheap shitty distraction to win. In reality she wasn’t even sure if Howlett had any interest in her, and judging by his reaction it was clear that he took the offense. The accusation of being unprofessional like this.. it was a really low blow.

That’s why she was currently standing in front of his room, knocking and waiting for an opportunity to say sorry.

What she didn’t expect was to be met with him half naked, wearing some sweats and having wet hair.

“I-I’m.. listen Logan, I’m sorry about what I’ve said-“

He didn’t give her a chance. Instead his big hands grabbed her waist, dragged into his room and pinned to the other side of the closed door.

“Oh, really, princess?” He fumed, his eyes focused on her face like he was really looking for any sign of doubt, not really in a mood to be played over again. 

“L-Logan I’m really sorry-“

“You should be, bub. Using my weakness, like it wasn’t you who have been wearing these tight pants and bras of yours.”

“W-what-“

“Everyone thinks you’re so smart but I see that you don’t have basic instincts, huh? Teasing me every damn time, like you don’t want me to fuck you dumb, and then having the audacity to just spit it in my face.”

“I swear I didn’t-“

“Is that so? Then why can I smell you know, Y/n?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck his heightened senses. The second he grabbed her she started getting wet, squeezing her legs just to provide any sort of pressure. 

“Logan-“

“I asked you a question, bub.” The threatening tone near her ear made a shiver run down her spine. “But let me ask again. Do you like it Y/n?”

Truth be told, the time she spent with Logan made her realize how handsome the guy was. Strong and cut muscles, the height, and now the chest hair and happy trail going down under the waistband.

“My eyes are here, princess.” He chuckled seeing her struggle.

“Y-yes.” If before she was out of breath, then now it was literally no existent.

“Good.”

And just like his eyes landed on hers. Swallowing her flavor. Devouring any place he could. Quickly the kisses lower to her neck, leaving the trails of his spit and teeth on it. Bruising it like it was his job to do so. 

“Logan!” Her moans were a pure symphony for his ears.

“Legs.” The simple order made her obey, wrapping her legs around his waist like it has always been their place. “Good girl.”

It didn’t take him long to make her a moaning mess. Dropping her on the bed and undressing, leaving her fully naked just as in his scenarios.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about it for too damn long. Always wearing those tops that are fucking too little and cute for your slutty tits. I imagine guys on campus enjoyed them.” Her nipples were being abused just like the neck before. “But they’re mine now, you get it, bub?”

“Yes, yes, please.” She cried, trying to cover her eyes, both from pleasure and embarrassment.

“Ah, ah, ah, none of this. You can’t act all shy on me now when you’ve been such a bratty bitch all the time, baby.” Logan grabbed her hand and pinned them together above her head, not making it possible for her to do anything else than just take what he was giving. After he was satisfied with his work on the upper parts of her body, he took his pants off and smirked at her reaction. Logan was quite aware of his size being above any normal human, so it wasn’t any surprise. “Never had anything like that, huh? None of your little college boys gave you something like that? But don’t worry, princess, I’ll make sure it fits.”

But before he could enter her, she stopped him, putting her hand on his chest.

“Logan, wait!” Seeing his confused face, she whispered the thing he couldn’t believe was real. “I-I’ve never done it..”

“Come again?” But her reaction to his question ensured him that what he just heard was true. “You are a virgin?”

She nodded, not being able to look into his eyes.  

“Y/n look at me.” She shook her head, afraid of him being mad at her. “I said look at me, bub.” Logan gently grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. “It’s okay. It’s fine, you don’t need to be ashamed. Fuck, you’ve been so confident in your words back there that I thought.. but it doesn’t matter. It’s all good, I’ll be gentle. Just tell me if anything will be wrong, okay?” When she nodded one again, he smirked. “Words Y/n. You have such a smart mouth then use it now.”

“Okay.”

That’s when his member slowly entered her. Inch by inch, Logan was checking on her if everything was fine. The little pain expressions were a natural reaction considering his size, so he was soothing her legs, calming her down by praising how well she was doing.

“So fucking good for me, baby, so tight and warm.”

At first Logan wanted to give her some time to adjust but instead the girl told him to move.

“I want it, Logan.”

And who was he to deny her?

His pace was too slow for his liking, but her comfort was in first place.

“Faster, please.” She moaned, not being able to stand his gentle trust. “I’m not made of glass.”

Oh, she really shouldn’t have said that.

“As you wish.”

Logan grabbed her legs and turned her around, making her stand on all four. Pounding into her relentlessly, like his life depended on it. One hand grabbed both of her, holding them as a lever, making her arch in a way that will never leave his mind. Other went straight to her hanging breasts, squeezing them and overstimulating to her limits.

“Lo! Please, fuck, I’m close.. Lo..”

“I should’ve known that all it takes to finally shut you up is just to fuck you dumb. Such a good pussy for me, keeping herself pure just so I can use it however I want, isn’t it right princess?”

“Yhym, yeah, please, Lo!” Her mind clouded by the overwhelming pleasure.

“Already dumbfounded, how sweet. What would Scott think about you, baby, huh? You think he would be proud of his perfect student to be pistoned like a cheap whore? Just a hole for my pleasure of all the people?”

His fingers traveled from her tits to her clit, making small fast circles which made her legs tremble uncontrollably.

“Logan! I think I’ll-“

“I know, princess, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Give it to me Y/n, milk me so I can know how good your cunt is.” He kept his brutal pace, pounding into her from behind. Feeling how her legs were slowly giving up, Logan freed her hand and slapped her ass, leaving a red mark on it. “Cum on me, baby.”

“Lo! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It didn’t take much for him to follow her, reaching his orgasm, painting her walls white with his own cum. The trip to the drugstore for the morning after pill will be the first thing needed in the morning, but for now his mind was focused on something else.

Y/n didn’t take Logan as a type of the good aftercare guy, rather betting on the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ man. But to her surprise after they both calmed down from their high, he grabbed her waist and cuddled her into his chest.

“You alright?”

“Yes.. shit, it was..”

“I feel the same, princess. You did a very good job.” He smirked, giving her tender pecks full of affection. “I’ll clean you in a second, baby. Also I don’t think you’ll be able to have any sparring tomorrow.”

The teasing comment made her blush, but she knew he was right. It’ll be a miracle if she will be able to walk properly. But it took her a second to realize the true meaning behind his words.

“So… we are cool?”                                                                                                         

It honestly made him smile. But it wasn’t his usual forced grimace. This time that smile was kind, soft and genuine which made her heart melt a little.

“Yes, Y/n. We are cool. Besides, you were right. I was checking your tits all the time.”

They both laughed at that and after a few more seconds in a tight warm embrace, Y/n fell asleep.

Finally after five years of being here, Logan found a good reason why it was worth staying.

BONUS

Their relationship was kept a secret. To Logan it was ridiculous, but Y/n didn’t want Scott to find out, knowing that her former teacher would be furious. He would definitely judge the choices she’s made, especially by choosing Logan of all the guys. So that’s why they’ve been hiding. Stealing private moments, hiding in empty classrooms for quick make out sessions. Sneaking out of each other's rooms in the middle of the night.

But one day, she fucked up.

Charles called the whole for an emergency meeting early in the morning. She was still tired from the entire night intimate session with Logan, that her brain didn’t have any moment to wake up and start working properly. Instead of grabbing her own hoodie, she put on Logan’s which was too big for her.

The whole meeting went smoothly, though she couldn’t understand why Scott was giving her angry glances, at the same time Logan smirking like crazy.

“Nice hoodie, sweetheart.” He finally whispered into her ear, when the gathering was over. The realization hit her instantly like a bullet. 

“I can explain-“ Y/n started.

“Fucking asshole.” Scott only bumped his arm into Logan’s chest on his way out, not wanting to hear it all.

“Well that could be worse.” Another smirk appeared on Howlett’s face.

The next thing she felt was his lips on hers. There was no way he wouldn't use the first occasion to show off his girlfriend. 

▏A/n: Was the first concept writing some sort of teacher's pet fic? Yeah, but then it slightly evolved. Hope you enjoyed it tho!

[mmmerimari]

avoidant attachment!reader

aa!reader who knows that inside she is capable

aa!reader who gets frustrated easily during serious conversations

aa!reader who rarely looks at faces

aa!reader who is soothed by silence and loneliness

aa!reader who wiggles her fingers over the pressure plates of "traps"

aa!reader who craves intimacy

aa!reader who always wonders where that big scar on her chest came from

aa!reader who balls up like a hedgehog when held

aa!reader who's skin burns when she thinks about how she is being touched

aa!reader who gets rid of emotional evidence

aa!reader who plays dumb

Y/n was splayed out on the grass. Rafe looked down at her like she was some strange specimen.

"You gonna get up any time soon?" He asked, wiping his bottom lip as his eyes left her and glanced around the field they were in. Y/n stayed silent.

"I mean come on, we're going to be late," Rafe continued.

Y/n popped her head up, "Then you can leave?"

She twisted her head and squinted to make eye contact, "I never wanted to go."

Rafe made a 'huh' sound as his lips curled into an unintentional smirk.

"You serious right now?"

"I drove us out here because I thought it would calm you down before we head to midsummers. Now you're telling me you didn't even plan on coming with me?"

Y/n rolled her eyes and stuffed her face back into the grass.

The grass here was nice. Over many trips, she'd discovered that there were rarely bugs here (strange) and the grass was soft, long, and flimsy.

Rafe bent over and grabbed her wrist, "Yeah, no. You're coming. Get up."

Y/n wrist started to heat up at Rafe's touch. She tried to twist out of it. "Rafe, stop."

Rafe dropped her wrist and stepped back as Y/n sat up. His hands went to his temples. "Jesus, it's like you don't understand anything. Are you fucking mentally stunted?"

Y/n sighed and glanced to the side, into the sunset. The horizon wasn't a nice gradient of blue and orange this evening. It was a straight line across the skyline. Soft clouds took over the higher sky.

Rafe snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"The fuck is wrong with you? I go on about how important this shit is to me and you just space out?"

Y/n just huffed and tried to focus on Rafe's face. Rafe lunged forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. He forcibly held her, lifting her off the ground and forcing her to stand up.

Her shoulders caved in, her back rounding out as her eyebrows furrowed and her nose scrunched. "Get off me."

Rafe put a centimeter of space between his hands and her shoulders. He took a deep breath, "Listen, I told people you would be there tonight. Alright? And- and I need you to be there or else I am going to look like a fucking dumbass showing up alone."

His hands moved up to the sides of her face, brushing the stray hairs behind her ears as the wind blew them around.

"I didn't tell you to tell people. How is that my fault?"

Rafe's hands tightened around her head before he let go and backed up. His lips pursed as air filled his mouth. He wanted to scream.

"I'm not saying it's your fucking fault, I am just saying you need to come with me." His eyes darted around her face, between her face and to the tips of her hair blowing around again.

"No."

The next few minutes flew by. Y/n doesn't even remember what happened. Something about this being it. "This is it, the last time," spewed out of his mouth. Y/n chest tightened as she started to actually think about what it would mean to show up at midsummers with Rafe. And suddenly she didn't feel so bad about not going with him.

Just like that, Rafe got in his truck and drove off. Leaving her in the field.

if you're interested: readers