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#this is the only thing i'm answering on this
lustchan · 3 days
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POV: You come back home from a long day after work to your boyfriend jerking off to the thought of you 🤭🤭
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"I'm home" you say as you enter your home that you and your boyfriend choso lived in. When you hear no answer, you call out "Cho?". He would normally be running at you frantically because of how much he missed you at this time.
You felt bad that he stayed up so late to greet you when you came back but your job required you to stay late and that meant less time with your adorable boyfriend. You took off your coat and hung it up on the coat rack, simultaneously taking off your shoes and scarf. 'He must be sleeping, poor baby,' you thought to yourself checking the time that read 11:34pm.
You went to the room that you both shared and stopped dead in your tracks at the noise you heard. You peered through the crack in the door to find the source of the soft pants and struggled moans.
Your boyfriend was lying on your shared bed with his shirt in his mouth, pants on the ground, stroking his cock with both his hands, completely red in the face. You couldn't help but stare as he shuddered with every soft movement.
You saw him teasing his tip and fondling his balls but you snapped when you heard him moan your name and opened the door, quickly walking inside, unbuttoning your shirt.
"Y/n," was the only thing he said before you were crashing your lips onto his and slipping your tongue into his mouth as you both moaned at the feeling. Your lips captured his in a frenzy making him hold onto you with trembling hands.
"You couldn't wait until I got home, could you?" You ask him between breaths after you finally pulled away, a string of your mixed saliva connecting the both of you.
"N-no, I tried to cum but it didn't work," Choso said looking down towards his cock. You peered at his reddened dick that was leaking cum and grabbed hold of it. That was enough to send Choso off the edge as he erupted in the palm of your hand. "F-fuck I-" Choso was cut off as you kissed him hard before kneeling between his legs and wrapping your mouth around his dick.
Choso couldn’t hold back his moans as your hot mouth engulfed his still sensitive length. His cock throbbed in your mouth, a long prominent vein stroking your tongue and making you pool between your legs.
“F-fuck, I missed you so m-much,” Choso groans as his words make you moan on his dick, sending vibrations along him.
He gently pulled you off his cock and repositioned the both of you so that your pussy was directed over his face and he nearly came at the sight of your swollen wet cunt clenching around nothing.
“Cho ??” You asked your boyfriend who was just as mesmerised at your pussy like every single time he’s seen it. He reached out with his fingers and circled your throbbing clit making you cry out in pleasure from the slight friction. You felt his dick twitch against your face, nearly forgetting the task you had at hand when Choso’s mouth collided with your pussy.
“Mmmph, nghh,” you couldn’t let out the moans you wanted to as you slipped Choso’s pretty cock in your mouth, your legs spread on either side of Choso’s face as he devoured you like you were the first thing he had eaten in years.
Choso was having a hard time trying not to cum from the sound of your muffled moans and the way your tongue swirled his tip making him twitch in your mouth. He licked a languid stripe from
your hole to the top of your sensitive bud, drawing circles with his tongue. He sucked and licked your clit so hard you couldn’t even suck his dick properly, going dumb from his mouth.
He gripped your thighs and brought you impossibly closer to his face, groaning in your pussy and tongue fucking your tight hole. Your legs trembled and you got closer and closer to your release.
“Choso, ahhh, I-i’m cumming, oh my god,” You managed to make out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body rushed with white hot pleasure. You shook and squirmed on top of Choso who didn’t let up his antics, directly targeting your clit as you came all over his tongue. He drank in your sweet juices with a low thank you that you nearly missed as you lay lazily, his twitching cock hitting your face.
Choso flipped you over to face him, straddling him, your pussy directly on his rock hard dick. He gripped your thighs and kissed you, letting you taste yourself as you both moaned against each other. He gave your boobs a desperate squeeze and leaned down to suck your nipples as you dragged a hand through his hair and leaned your head back. He then kissed up from your boobs up to your jaw, leaving marks as he went and moaning, grinding his raw dick on your slick pussy.
“Baby, can you ride me again ?”
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darkbluekies · 2 days
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Cannot take what was never meant to leave
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Yandere!king OC x fem!fairy!reader
Summary: Edmund walks out in the forest and finds something he never seen before: a tree fairy. Upon learning that he can't take her as long as her tree is there, he does the only thing he can think of.
Warnings: Edmund is a bit more insane than usual, reader is in a lot of pain, kidnapping, basically killing, use of an ax
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by Erutan's song "The Willow Maid"!! I have absolutely loved that song for ages, and after seeing PurestarMedia's music video of it on YouTube, I had to write something!! Edmund felt like the perfect fit for it!!
Summer is almost over. He can tell by a slight shift in the winds that colder times are approaching, even though barely any of the trees show any signs of autumn. He can't wait until he can bring out his thicker coat. He likes the colors of it much more.
Ten men he brought with him on his hunt for rabbits. They've decided to go into another part of the forest in hopes of finding anything.
Suddenly. A sound.
“Shh!” Edmund hushes and holds up a hand, signaling the others to stop.
He listens closely. It sounds like humming. It's a tune he has never heard before, but one that feels weirdly familiar — as if he has heard it in a dream or past life.
Quietly, they follow the sound until they reach a field full of small, white flowers. In the middle of the white field stands a tree with dark leaves. A scene taken straight out of one of the paintings hanging on the castle walls. Edmund notices someone sitting by the foot of the tree, resting among the roots. A woman?
The group of men creep closer. The woman is lying on the tree roots, leaning her head against the tree trunk, having a root under her knees for support. She's dressed in a long, white gown reminding Edmund of the small flowers. On her head rests a flower crown made of the very flowers. Her eyes are shut. Her mouth hums. 
A fairy.
One of Edmund’s men steps onto a branch on the floor, which snaps in half and pulls the fairy out of her thoughts. Her eyes snap open, revealing them to be deep and dark — and full of fear. She shoots up from her root and stumbles backwards, hiding behind her tree.
“Who are you?” she asks quickly. “What do you want?”
“You are a fairy”, Edmund says, still in disbelief.
“Yes … what do you want?”
“Have you seen any rabbits around here?”
She peeks out from behind the tree.
“What do you want them?” she asks and seems to notice the rifles hanging over their shoulders. “I'm not assisting you in killing harmless creatures.”
Edmund meets her dark eyes. They're hypnotic.
“You humans are despicable sometimes”, she says. “Killing innocent creatures who haven't done anything to you.”
“If I wouldn't, someone else would — man or animal.”
“I want you to leave.”
“Yeah, we should move on. We have rabbits to hunt.”
He can feel her eyes burn through his back as he walks back over the field of white flowers. He hopes that she will watch him until he disappears into the forest.
“Did you have a good hunt, your majesty?” his secretary asks as Edmund and his ten men come back to the castle.
“Caught a few rabbits”, he answers and smiles, thinking of the memory. “We encountered a fairy.”
They start to walk inside. 
“A fairy?” the secretary asks and holds the door into the castle open for the young king.
“What do you know about fairies?” Edmund asks. 
They walk down the large hall.
“I know that, like humans, there are different types of fairies”, the secretary says. “You found her in the woods, you said?”
Edmund nods. 
“She’s probably a tree fairy”, the secretary continues. 
“Yeah, she was sitting by a tree … almost like it was holding her”, Edmund says, furrowing his dark brows as he thinks about it. 
He holds out his arms as if he was carrying a woman, imagining her knees bending over his right arm and her back supported by his left … her head resting on his shoulder — like she had done to the tree bark. 
They walk into Edmund’s office, closing the door behind them. 
“What do you know about tree fairies?” Edmund asks and throws himself in his chair. 
“I know that they live in the woods and that they are connected to a particular tree. They feed off of sap from the tree and flower nectar — and if their tree bears fruit they eat that too.”
“What happens if they eat something else? Like meat? Or potatoes?”
“I don’t know, your majesty.”
“Would it kill them, do you think?”
“Perhaps. What I do know kills a tree fairy is killing their tree.”
Edmund looks up at him. “What?” 
“Their life source is connected to their tree. They live as long as their tree does.”
“So you’re saying that a fairy can become hundreds of years? Thousands even?”
“Could be.”
“Interesting.” He sighs and throws his head back. “You should have seen that thing. Before she noticed us she looked so … peaceful. She was resting and humming a tune. When she realized that we were there she flew up and hid behind her tree. All of that seemed so young and naive. Her tree wasn’t that large either. I think I’ve found myself a young fairy.”
“The fairy seems to interest you.”
“I’ve always wanted to meet a fairy. I didn’t believe that they actually existed. But now, I’ve found one. I think that I’m going to make her my wife.”
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The next day, he returns with his ten men and his secretary, dressed in his autumn coat. On the way to the glade, Edmund picks a few flowers with the biggest nectars he can find, hoping that they will be a good enough gift. He is going to ask her to marry him. 
She is walking around the white flowers, picking up a few and putting them in her flower crown. She looks up as they come. This time she doesn’t look as startled, but there’s something wary in her eyes. 
She’s beautiful and delicate, there’s no denying. Edmund needs her. Every fiber of his body needs her. She needs to be his wife, to be the mother to his children. He refuses to leave without her. 
“What brings you back?” she asks as Edmund gets close enough, but doesn’t sound like she wants to know. 
He can tell that she wants to get back to her tree. She gives it quick glimpses and takes small steps back towards it. 
Edmund holds out the flowers towards her. She hesitates before taking them out of his hand. Her fingertips barely graces his skin. Her touch is humanlike, kind and delicate. 
“Thank you”, she says and smells them softly. 
He smiles. He wants nothing more than to hug her, to hold what belongs to him in his arms, but he has to ask the question first.
“I want you to marry me”, Edmund says. 
The fairy drops the flowers in shock. They disappear underneath the small, white ones. Edmund furrows his brows.
“Marry you?” the fairy repeats, shocked. “How could I possibly-? No, no, I shall not.”
Edmund stares at her, eyes darkening, unable to understand how anyone could turn down his proposal. Women would travel far and wide to hear those words come from his mouth, and this fairy — who does she think she is — doesn’t even think twice before rejecting him. It should crush him, but instead it has the opposite effect. He will not leave without his fairy. 
He looks over his shoulder, at his ten men. “Seize her.”
Just as the ten men are about to grab the fleeing girl, his secretary grabs his shoulder. 
“Your majesty, don’t”, he says quickly. “That won’t be possible. She can’t leave the glade.”
“What do you mean?” Edmund scoffs.
“She’s connected to that tree.” He nods towards the tree in the middle of the field. “She can’t leave it.”
Edmund glares at the tree. That damn tree. The woman runs through the flowers towards her tree, hugging it tightly. Edmund finds it humorous how she thinks a simple tree could protect her. He could do it a hundred times better, will do it a hundred times better. 
He sees how she sinks down by the tree, huddled up by the tree bark, crying. Soon, she will search for comfort in him, not a damn tree. 
“We can’t take her”, the secretary says. “I don’t know what would happen if we tried, but as long as that tree is there, we can’t remove her.”
Edmund doesn’t answer as he walks back into the forest. The ten men follow him. His secretary keeps a distance. Edmund feels like he could explode with anger. He had pictured himself leaving the forest with his new fiance hand in hand. But he will not give up. He will get his fairy. 
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He returns a third time the next day. This time he’s by himself … and this time, he’s brought an ax. Determined to take her with him. She will be his wife. This time, he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. He will not walk away empty handed. The thought consumes him as he marches through the forest, towards the glade. 
He can see her lying in the same spot he had seen her the first time. This time, she’s not humming. She opens her eyes as he gets nearer and jumps to her feet as her eyes fall on the sharp edge of the ax. 
“No!” she screams in pure panic. “No, what are you doing?! Don’t!”
Edmund lifts his hands and lands a blow on the bark, cutting away a piece. To his right, the fairy screams in agonizing pain and clutches her heart. He continues to hit the tree. The woman continues to scream. She cries in pain. 
It takes longer than he expects. He takes his eyes off the deep cut in the tree and turns them towards her. She’s lying between the roots, curled up with her hands pressed against her heart, crying and screaming. 
“Please stop!” she screams and sobs so that her entire body trembles. “Y-You’ll kill me! Please s-stop, please! I’m begging y-you!”
If he continues to hit the tree, she will die. 
Edmund will have to bring a piece of the tree with him and replant it in his castle’s garden so that it doesn’t die — so that she doesn’t die. He continues to chop. She continues to scream, cry and plead for him to stop. 
A loud creaking echoes through the air. He watches as the tree bends in half and falls. The fairy stumbles upon weak legs and hugs her fallen tree, sobbing. 
With the ax, Edmund manages to dig up root systems of the tree. He holds it in his left hand and grabs the fairy’s wrist tightly with his right. He yanks her up on her feet. 
“You belong to me now”, he says. 
She only sobs for an answer. She tries reaching out for her tree, but Edmund pulls her with him. She stumbles. He drags her into the forest. 
“Please …”, she sobs. “Please …”
He doesn’t know what she begs for. The tree is fallen, he can’t undo what he has done. 
“Please, I’m in so much pain”, she pants. 
He doesn’t listen, doesn’t have time for it. He has to get her to the castle, where he can lock her in, so that she can’t escape out to the forest again. 
He can feel her collapse. Edmund gasps and watches her lie lifeless on the ground. He shoves the tree roots in his pocket and hurries to check her pulse. She’s still living, for now. Edmund stresses to pick her up. Her limp body rests in his arms as he runs out of the forest, towards the castle. 
He runs into the castle yard, into the hallways and out to the garden. He lays the fairy down on the grass and hurried to dig a hole with his hands. Oh, how he hates the feeling of dirt under his nails. He can’t think about that now. 
He places the root in the hole and covers it with the soil. Edmund runs over to the fountain, cups his hands and fills it with water. He runs back and forth until enough water has been poured over it. He feels for a pulse on the fairy’s neck. There’s still a faint pulsation underneath his fingers. He removes his coat and places it on the ground beside the tree root before lifting the fairy onto it. He caresses her face. 
“You actually got her.”
He looks over his shoulder at his secretary. He stands there, looking at them in disbelief and horror. 
“Is she dead?” he asks. 
“No, not yet”, Edmund replies  breathlessly. “I brought a piece of the tree here and I have replanted it. She should survive. But we need flowers — lots of flowers. And anything else a fairy might eat. We need to nurture her back to life.”
“I’ll prepare some honey water, I think that should be drinkable.”
Edmund sits by the fairy, waiting patiently. 
Hours go by. She doesn’t move. Barely breathing. Edmund wonders if he she has fallen into some kind of limbo, where the tree is barely alive, and so is she. If the tree doesn’t survive, neither will she. He has to nurture both. 
He feeds the tree water and nutrient dense soil and tries to pour droplets of honey water into the fairy’s mouth. Sometimes she responds by swallowing softly, and sometimes let it drip out of her mouth. 
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Hours turn to days. Days to weeks. As the tree slowly grows roots in Edmund’s soil and become stronger, so does the fairy. Edmund doubts that she will ever become as strong as she was before. The tree will never be in its full glory again, and neither will she. She can’t walk, her body is too weak to move more than a few minutes. He lets her rest by her short stub. When he can’t stay with her, he watches from afar, from one of the windows. She’s always curled up, hugging her stomach as if she’s got cramps. The poor thing never smiles anymore. 
He holds a glass of warm honey water in his hands as he walks out to the petty excuse of a tree. It'll take years to become as big as it originally was, but it will never be the original tree.
“Hi”, Edmund says softly and sits down beside the fairy, holding the cup to her dry lips.
She doesn't seem to care what she gets fed anymore. Maybe she hopes that it will kill her.
In a sense, Edmund has killed the fairy.
She drinks slowly.
“I don't know what to feed you when winter comes”, he says. “I have harvested a lot of nectar and sap, but I don't know how long that will be good for.”
A tear runs down her cheek. Edmund wipes it carefully.
“My fairy, don't worry”, he whispers reassuringly. “I will figure it out.”
He wishes that she could respond, but he hasn't heard her voice since that day she screams in pain — when he killed her.
He stands up, gives her forehead one last kiss before walking back inside. In the beginning, he used to have guards watch over the garden to make sure that she wouldn't run off, but he realized that as long as that tree is there, she isn't going anywhere.
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thinkinonsense · 2 days
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i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid
it's slim pickins
lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)
a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3
masterlist
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"am i just destined to be alone forever?"
another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.
"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.
"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.
"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."
you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.
"i work with those guys!" you hiss.
"sooo...?" she smirks.
both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.
"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.
you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?
"oh... um, i'm just-"
"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.
"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.
"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.
"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."
"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."
the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.
"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.
"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.
"you sure?" he raises a brow.
"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"
"why what?" he squints.
"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.
"no." he answers.
" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"
all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.
"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."
it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.
"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."
if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.
"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."
"you have no idea." you sigh.
"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."
"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."
logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.
"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.
"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."
"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.
"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.
"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."
it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.
"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"
you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."
he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.
"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."
"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."
"what are you looking for in this dream man?"
logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.
"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."
it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.
"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."
"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."
"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.
"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."
as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.
you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.
before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.
there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.
"hey? did i leave something in the–"
in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.
“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”
your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.
“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.
“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Injured (Alba's Version) IV
Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader
Summary: The aftermath
*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*
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It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.
You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.
You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.
You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.
It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.
She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.
There's no answer.
"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"
Still silence.
"One! Two!"
Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.
She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.
You're not there though.
Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.
There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.
Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.
She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.
"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"
"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"
That's odd.
Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.
She shuffles through the papers on your desk.
Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.
You must be wanting to take them with you.
It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.
She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.
You've not come home.
She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.
She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.
You are nowhere.
She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.
She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.
It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.
The call comes in the evening.
It's Alba.
"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"
"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."
"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"
"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."
"Alba, what is going on?"
"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."
In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.
It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.
It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.
It's even worse for a mother to see.
A picture goes up at the ballet company.
(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).
It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.
'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.
Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.
(Alexia has never been to a performance once).
Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.
Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.
She can't remember them.
She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.
There is a gap in her memory from that moment.
Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.
You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.
Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.
She loved you. She loved you so much.
Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.
The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.
The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.
She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.
She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.
She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.
Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.
Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.
It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.
It was you.
You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.
Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.
You thought that this path was better than returning home.
You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.
People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.
She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.
Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.
Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.
Your things are gone.
You are gone.
And Alexia will never know why.
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kianamaiart · 3 days
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Hello your magical girl story looks really intriguing, the premise feels very creative, the art style is simple but good with its own identity, and the characters seem to be fleshed out with depth, personality, and backstory. In short, I love it, and I do have a few questions.
One: Is the story character driven, story driven, or something else
Two: Is the story rated G, PG, PG-13, or something else
Three: Would the story be a web comic, web show, or something else
Four: Will there be a lot of lore and world building, yes or no
Five: what other inspirations did you have for the story's characters, plot, and art style
Six: What humor do you use for the story
I'm only asking these questions out of curiosity. This is just because I love your story, and would like to know more about.
So please be free to not answer all the questions if you want. I'm also fine if you ignore this ask. so please, no pressure.
At the end of the day, please have fun, relax, work hard, take your time, and have a nice day.
I'm so glad! Thanks so much for your interest <3
Character driven (always)
PG/PG-13
Dunno! I've been reached out to already for a few opportunities but right now, I'm just trying to have fun with it and keep it mine until I feel like the idea is fully realized and ready for something bigger. Right now, I'm shooting to make a lil pilot animatic mostly on my own with help from a few friends
Depends on what you mean by a lot but I'd say a soft yes
For Aika, just generally other anime protagonists from shoujo and shonen. I feel like when you're doing a spin on something you do have to rely on the tropes from the genre at least a little bit. For Zira, Toko Fukawa was the jumping off point but they're very different. They're also both based off of aspects of myself (I feel like most artists do this with their ocs tho). Style and story-wise, I was definitely looking at Doremi and Panty&Stocking. That chunky cute look that's distinctly anime but takes some notes from Western cartoons. But mine's flipped where it's more based on my own style from working in Western animation but then having anime influence. And story-wise I like how they're more episodic with an underlying story. The magical girl stuff is more a backdrop that helps the story move forward and enhances the slice of life stuff that's being focused on.
I'm not sure what kind of humor to say other than my own? But my sense of humor has been shaped by Big City Greens (obviously) Adventure Time, Jimmy Neutron, Bob's Burgers, Smiling Friends and many other things but hopefully that gives you the gist
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magniloquent-raven · 2 days
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Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends
and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.
(read on ao3)
**
The 118 doesn't have a baby box.
In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.
So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.
He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.
And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.
So, they don't have a box. But.
Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.
Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.
Buck was just going to grab something—he can't remember what—from his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.
Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.
Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.
There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.
Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.
"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.
Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?
Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.
Buck fishes his phone out of his jacket—with the hand that isn't currently being drooled on—intending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.
Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.
It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting done—his last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.
"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.
"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.
"...What was that?"
"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."
Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.
Tommy promised he'd come get her.
Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.
He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.
Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.
In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.
He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.
She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)
"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"
Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.
"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."
Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."
Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."
"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."
Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."
Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."
"Okay, but—"
"Hey guys, look who stopped b—uhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"
"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"
"I found him polishing the engine."
Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"
He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smile—and it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeeping—and say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.
He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.
Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.
His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.
Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.
When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.
"Mmn...y'know. For being you."
Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."
"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.
Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, and—no wait, not that either.
Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.
"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."
"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.
Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.
She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.
Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.
The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.
She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.
God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.
"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.
He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.
"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."
"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.
"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.
He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.
Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.
"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."
"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."
The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.
Well. Alright.
"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."
"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"
Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.
Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.
He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.
The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.
"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."
"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.
"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand it—
"I love you so much," he says in a rush.
"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."
Buck huffs a laugh.
"And I love you too."
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thyfleshc0nsumed · 10 hours
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Was talking with a client tonight (the one who I'm basically talking through coming out) and she keeps doing the "oh what if I only want to be a girl sometimes :(((( actually I don't tooooootally hate being a man every second of my waking life, sometimes I dont feel anything at all" and then she was like "ask me if I want to be a girl" and i responded with "do you want to be a woman," and like her answer to those two questions were obviously very different and I think it speaks to the fact that like, we internally know and understand the stakes of transition, right?
Like we understand that by doing the thing for real, by becoming a transsexual or by coming out at work or in our larger lives that we become a target and the way the world interacts with us is going to fundamentally change. Many of us were acted upon as faggots before we came out, but many of us weren't. For some of us, it is a much larger step down than others.
But no matter what our lives were like before, once we start to do the damn thing, the world is going to act upon us as women. And it's easy to stick in the fantasy--a life of being oneself without all that, living in our mind palace where we get to be 'girls' without having to be women--but until we actually acknowledge and accept what transition means for us materially, we have no hope of actually achieving it.
And once we do accept that, the question becomes "is it worth it?" For many of us, the answer is quite clear--the other choice was death by one form or another. But for others, especially those of us who are slightly older, the question becomes more difficult. There may be something for us to lose here. And if you fall into that second group, I ask you this:
Sure, you can live with it. You can keep going, as you have proved yourself able to do for however long you have done it thus far. You may be able to keep yourself stuffed in a box, only taking yourself out for the odd hour here and the odd hour there. You can keep going as you are. But do you want to? Is external ease worth more than internal peace?
They say courage is not 'acting without fear,' but rather 'acting despite fear.' Transition is scary and I can't deny that. But I think you have it within yourself to be courageous.
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me - wolfstar - september 22nd - @padfootmicrofics - word count: 329
"I'm a matchmaker," Sirius brags, eyes sparkling, gesturing to where Dorcas and Marlene are snogging in the corridor. "I'm always right."
And he is right. It seems that he has an instinct for these things. He was the one to introduce Dorcas and Marlene, Lily and Pandora, even Regulus and James (though that one was very grudgingly).
But for some reason, he refuses, absolutely will not find someone for Remus. Not that Remus wants just anyone. He wants Sirius. But Sirius is...unattainable. He's given up long ago on someone so perfect.
But every time he asks Sirius who he should ask to Hogsmeade, or to a party, or even on a walk, Sirius flat-out won't answer. "Dunno, Moony," he says, avoiding eye contact. And it's getting frustrating. So one day, he snaps.
"Am I that unattractive?" he nearly-yells, after asking him again who he should ask to Hogsmeade that weekend only to get nothing.
And Sirius only watched him wide-eyed, frozen in his spot.
"Do you really think nobody would want me?" Because he knows. He knows Sirius thinks he's ugly and displeasing. It's the only explanation. But for him to not even help...
But Sirius is giving him an incredulous look. "Is that really what you think?" he asks, his voice shocked.
"Why else won't you help me?" Remus retorts, heart pounding. "There has to be someone you think I should ask! Someone you think might-"
"Me!" Sirius interrupts, eyes wide. "Me! That's who you should ask. That's who's perfect for you, Moons. But if you're asking me who to ask, you obviously don't want that, and I'm not enough of an idiot to tell you to ask someone else, so..."
Remus, however, processes this quickly, and steps forward, grabbing Sirius as he turns to run. "Sirius..." he mumbles, pulling the other boy so their gazes lock. His stomach flip-flops and desire pools in his spine.
"What?"
"You're just...right again," he whispers. And with that, their lips connect.
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loggiepj · 2 days
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illicit affairs
part 2 | part 3
YOU'D be a fool trying to convince yourself that Wanda was just some old hag sleeping on your bed that night. But god, she had never looked so peaceful and gorgeous than that very moment, as she was ten years ago. You didn't even know it was possible for someone to look so beautiful, it looked like a crime. As if the gods above blessed only those who were cruel. And cursed those who worshipped them.
Her creamy white legs were exposed from the blanket wrapped around her body. Her tiny soft snores filled the room as she buried herself deep into the pillows. It would take days before her scent would be gone from your sanctuary.
It tore you apart to look at her and feel these forbidden emotions, mad at yourself for feeling this way towards the old woman. You should hate her. You should have kicked her out for what she did.
You decided to go to the kitchen and make something for breakfast instead, preoccupying yourself from worrying too much, that the one nightmare you had always have had come true.
Even your hands were shaking as you beat down the eggs into a bowl, it was a miracle you had managed to cook food. The bacon almost ended up burnt when you jumped from her sudden presence in the kitchen.
"You're awake," you said, ignoring Wanda's gaze on you, her eyes glistening with a recognizable look. You knew that look. She used to look at you that way when you were wearing nothing but her white button down shirt as you made her a quick midnight snack whenever the twins weren't around. But that was ten years ago.
You don't feel anything for the woman anymore, right?
"I made us breakfast," you said before she opened her mouth to speak, stopping her. "You should eat first before you leave."
Wanda took small steps towards the dining table, looking at the food you made her. You wondered if she was touched, remembering how Wanda preferred scrambled eggs more than sunny side ups. But you convinced yourself you didn't do it for her. Because that would make you a martyr.
"This is good," Wanda softly said as you two began to eat in silence. You forced a small smile her way and went back eating.
"I haven't had breakfast like this for ages," she admitted, chuckling. "The boys mostly want cereals for breakfast, I ended up liking them, especially those colorful sweet ones, the . . . I forgot what they were called."
"Froot Loops?"
The skin around her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Yes, Froot Loops. I swear I'd end up having diabetes one day."
You nodded, chugging down what remained of your coffee as you avoided the woman's gaze.
"What are your plans today? It's a Saturday," the brunette added. "The twins are planning to shop around Chinatown before the classes start. You might even have ideas where to-"
"I can't," you answered, "sorry, I am meeting someone today."
"Oh," she went on, a teasing smirk on her face, "a girlfriend?"
Your fork made a noise as you let it fall down your plate. "What do you want, Miss Maximoff?"
Wanda's smile immediately vanished as she stopped eating. "I . . . I'm sorry if I said something wrong. I didn't mean to pry if you have someone special-"
"No, I mean, what do you want? Why are you here? What were you thinking looking for me, for you to end up inside a sketchy bar?"
Wanda bit back a sob as she looked at you, her hand slipping to hold yours across the table. You tensed and abruptly took it away, ended up with her curling hers into a fist.
"I am so sorry, Y/n," she began, "I'm so sorry for what I did all those years ago, for what I said to you, for being so cruel. I . . . I have to live everyday regretting everything I have said to you. You didn't deserve those things. You were nothing but good to me, and I took you for granted. I . . . I just . . . miss you. I miss you, Y/n. There isn't a day in my life since you left that I haven't thought of you."
You scoffed, standing up as you began cleaning the dishes.
You heard the scraping of her chair against the floor as she stood. "I looked for you. After your graduation, I looked for you. I wanted to take back everything I said. I didn't mean those things. If I could only turn back time, I'd go back to that very day and I should've kissed you and chose you-"
"But you can't," you butted in as you turned to glance at the hysteric woman before you, "turn back the time, I mean."
Wanda was panting softly as her teary eyes stared right at you. She shook her head as she said, "No, I can't."
"That's unfortunate, then," you said back coldly.
Wanda swallowed, still frozen on her spot, and before she'd burst into more tears in your apartment, you went towards the doorway, grabbed your coat and keys. "I'm just gonna grab some coffee. Your clothes are freshly laundered in the bathroom if you want to freshen up before leaving. Please don't forget to lock the door when you leave."
"Y/n—" But you haven't heard the end of it as you closed the door.
Luckily, Wanda wasn't there when you went back home two hours after. But once you had ensured the whole apartment was empty, you broke down and cried.
TIME and absence would surely heal a wound. A couple of months had passed since that dreary encounter and you swore there were a few days when you had completely forgotten about Wanda. That was until you received a call late Friday night when you had only just arrived in your apartment.
It was a nurse from a nearby private hospital, saying that Tommy got into an accident. Before you argued why you were in his contacts in the first place, you drove to the hospital to visit.
Apparently, Tommy got into a fight in one of the fraternity parties he and his friends attended. With broken nose, cut lip and fractured arm, Tommy almost looked unrecognizable.
"Sorry, Y/n," Tommy said when he saw you enter the emergency room, "I didn't know who else to call. And I don't want to worry Mom-"
"It's okay, Tommy. Are you okay? What happened?"
And as you listened to Tommy and the nurse who attended to him, your breathing quickened, your hand hovering over the phone in your jean's pocket. Hesitant to call his mother, even if you knew you had to. Seeing the brunette was the last thing you wanted to do. But this was her son. Your feelings should come last.
Instead of calling the woman, you ended up sending her a short text message, to which she replied instantly, saying that she was already on her way.
You were getting a cup of coffee from a vending machine outside the hospital when Wanda arrived, hearing her voice inside the emergency room.
You decided to sit on the bench by the waiting area, thinking whether you should leave them or stay. You must have fallen asleep on your seat for a few minutes when you felt someone sit beside you.
"Thank you for being there for him," Wanda said.
"How's Tommy?"
"He's under some meds right now for the pain, but the doctor says he's going to be fine."
"That's good," you said.
"There's no available private room at the moment, so he has no choice but to stay in a ward with other patients," she went on, massaging her head. "Doctor said he'll likely be discharged tomorrow or the day after that."
"If you want, you can sleep in my apartment, take a bath or such, while waiting for him to get discharged," you offered. And you had no idea where such sympathy came from.
There was even a short moment where her eyes were at your mouth before she looked back at you.
"I don't want to impose—"
"Wanda, it's fine," you insisted. "For Tommy."
She nodded. "Thank you."
YOU VISITED Tommy in the ward first before leaving, while waiting for Wanda to finish filling up the papers in the hospital's admission room.
"You going to be fine alone?"
"I can manage," he replied, chuckling, showing off his cast.
"Will your father visit?"
The smile on his face disappeared, his fingers playing on the tape around his wrist. "Dad does not visit us often anymore. And I hardly believe he cared for us anyway, now that he has another family of his own."
That was news to you.
"I always tell Mom to find someone so she wouldn't end up alone," he went on, his eyes at the window where you two could see Wanda busy writing. "But she never remarried after Dad, maybe it was because she never trusts men like Dad anymore. But it's been years, you know. I know she's too scared to admit it, but I know she's lonely at home now that me and Billy are in college."
Your eyes were on Wanda as she talked to the Doctor. "I'm sure she'll find someone in the right time."
He laughed softly, making you look at him. "Come to think of it, they got divorced years ago, months after we didn't see you at the house anymore. There was one time Billy thought you were the other woman Dad has been cheating with. But I know you're not that bad of a person."
You stiffened. "You mean, they'd been divorced that long?"
Tommy hummed. "Yes, ten years ago, I guess. We eventually found out who the other woman was. Good thing we didn't curse you by mistake."
You forced to laugh at his joke, but your mind was running in deep circles wondering if the divorce really had something to do with you.
"COME on, don't be shy," your friend Steve invited Wanda, who looked as shocked as you were. "Any friend of Y/n is a friend of ours."
Somehow, when Wanda was returning the clothes you lent to her that time Tommy was hospitalized, there you were in your apartment with your friends, who held a surprised farewell party for Bucky, who was leaving for London the next day. As if Wanda knew perfect timing.
Kate hadn't left your side, even sitting between you just to eradicate any weirdness. The group's conversation went from talking about everyone's jobs, making Wanda let out her plans she was starting a flower shop business in New York and that she had just bought a spot particularly two blocks from the university. You tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and convinced yourself she was only doing that to be closer to her boys. But you knew better.
Even Kate faked a laugh as she held another toast for the woman. "What about a special someone, Miss Maximoff? I heard you were divorced. Anyone you're meeting at the moment?"
Wanda's eyes met yours for a second before you looked away and drank whatever was left from your bottle of beer.
"No," she answered, chuckling. "I think I'm too old for that stuff anyway."
Bucky chortled. "No way you're old, Miss. If you want, I can set you up with people I know from work. I might even be successful on setting you up than Y/n here, whom I've failed a number of times."
"Why?" Wanda asked curiously.
Kate tried to stop Bucky. "Bucky, just give it a rest—"
"Oh, Y/n here has unknown high standards," Bucky enthusiastically added. "Believe me when dozens had gone down on their knees and Y/n has respectfully refused any advances."
"Shut up," you said, laughing, although you could tell Wanda's eyes never left yours all night long.
WHEN the party ended, all of the attendees slowly started to leave the apartment until there was only you and Wanda. Wanda helped you clean up the place, starting with throwing the empty boxes of pizza and bottles of beers into the trash bag.
"Y/n." Wanda broke the silence. Chappell Roan's casual was playing through the speakers.
"Mm?"
"Is it true?"
You stopped putting the dishes into the dishwasher to look at her. "Is what true?"
There was a small pause before she went on. "Have I ruined you for anyone else?"
You straighten your posture, frustrated as you glared back at her. "How dare you?"
"Then tell me," she challenged, approaching you with a sly smile on her face. "It's an easy question answerable by yes or no. Tell me."
"You infuriate me!"
"That's not a no—"
"You're nothing but a pathetic old slut who craves attention from someone who doesn't want her anymore!"
"Admit it then!" She leaned forward, closer to your face, her nostrils flaring. "Say it to my face that you don't feel anything for me anymore and I'll leave you alone for good! Tell me—"
You pushed your mouth against hers, effectively stopping Wanda from talking. She gasped upon the impact, with her back hitting the wall behind her from the force. And she welcomed you with as much aggression, her hands cupping your face to hold you.
With your arms on each side of her head, you pressed your bodies together, molding against each other. Her tongue played with yours, tasting what had been missed, wondering if each one of you were still as desperate as you were ten years ago.
"Y/N!" she moaned loudly a couple of minutes later as you pulled her hair, while roughly pistoning your strap into her from behind.
You had never thought you'd be able to do it. But there you were in your own bedroom with the woman you both loathed and loved so much on all fours before you. And it was driving you insane.
Mind filled with rage and lust, you tried to forget that this woman before you was the cause of your downfall. You tried to forget she hurt you, broke your heart to pieces as if you were nothing. Basking in the moment, you harshly grabbed the skin of her hips, nails digging, as you repeatedly and relentlessly pushed into her warm dripping entrance.
The tip of your strap hit your clit at the right angle, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. And when you heard Wanda's whimpers before you, your hand slipped through her back then held her shoulder as you fastened the pace.
The brunette screamed as her body convulsed in waves, shuddering as she came. If it weren't for you holding her upright, she would've fallen straight face down on the sheets.
But her cumming didn't stop you from chasing your relief. The sweet nectar from her release dripping down both your thighs only made the action slippery and noisy.
"Y/n. . . ," Wanda moaned, her hand attempting to hold you back but you slapped her hand away before leaning forward as you held both of her hands behind her back. This rendered Wanda's face flat against the pillow before her, muffling her moans.
"Is this what you want, huh?" you demanded, eyes almost in tears seeing Wanda and pretending you weren't just loving every moment that was happening right now. "Is this what you want from me?"
"Yes!" she screamed, gasping when you spanked one of her butt cheeks. "Yes! Y/n! You're all I want! You're all I've ever wanted!"
And that snapped something inside you. The coil in your stomach exploded, making you press your front into her back as you lay on top of her.
"Wanda," you moaned into her neck, your hips stuttering as you came. She held your face behind her as your body shook.
"I got you, Y/n," she cooed softly as you panted, still trembling above her. "I got you."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much ❤🥰
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fumiliar · 10 hours
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self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.
your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.
"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.
kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.
"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.
"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.
"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.
"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"
"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.
"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.
"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.
"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.
"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.
"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.
"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.
restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.
"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.
"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.
"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.
"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.
"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.
"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.
"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.
"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.
"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."
kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.
"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.
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hencheri · 3 days
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18+. mdni.
pairing: mean toxic bf!haechan x fem!reader
warnings: noncon, toxic relationship, gaslighting.
wc: 1.2k
.
you're watching a movie in the living room, but you're distracted, focused on your thoughts instead of the flashing screen in front of you. it's 3 a.m. and you can hear haechan playing video games in your bedroom.
he hasn't talked to you for hours, hasn't said a word or even looked in your way. it's bothering you a lot. you have a constant knot in your stomach and your heart accelerates at the mere thought of haechan ignoring you.
you hate when he does this, it makes you feel bad. so fucking bad.
you get up from the couch, going to your bedroom. you push the door open, hesitantly walking in. you need to talk to him.
"hyuck?"
he stares at his computer's screen, pressing down on the keys of his keyboard, concentrated on his game. he has his headset on, maybe he hasn't heard you.
"johnny!" haechan calls into his microphone, "quick, come save me."
"hyuckie..." you stand beside him and you know he can see you from the corner of his eye. you bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for an answer that doesn't come.
he continues to play like you're not there. it upsets you so much, could he not be petty for once?
"we need to talk, please," you demand, still trying to get his attention. you know he hears you now since he's quiet.
a few seconds pass before he replies back, "we have nothing to say."
you sigh, exasperated. there are plenty of things you need to discuss about actually, and not just what happened a couple of hours ago. it makes you cringe thinking about the previous events, but you can't just brush it off, especially when haechan's still sour about it.
you were both in bed about to go sleep soon. he made a move, touching your hips up and down, pressing his crotch against your butt. you weren't in the mood, so you told him to stop. he didn't at first and you pushed him away, which really offended him.
he then turned on his pc before you could say anything and you went to the living to watch a movie, a poor attempt to forget about this ridiculous fight.
"but-" you begin, a little annoyed, "we do."
your voice is covered by johnny yelling something to haechan, once again ignored by your boyfriend. "here, here, here! i need to heal you," he yells back, fingers hurriedly pressing down on the keys, "shit, these guys are rough."
"hyuck-" you try, placing your hand on his arm, but he grabs your wrist before you can and shoves your hand away.
you frown, hurt by his action.
"what? we won!?" haechan exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. you hear johnny talking back without deciphering his words. "ah, they missed the base," he laughs, "yeah, it was close."
he removes his headset and puts it on his desk. but he still decides to not acknowledge you, even when his game is done.
"please," you beg a bit desperately.
"what's the matter?" he sighs loudly, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.
"haechan! you've just ignored me the whole night! you can't always do that," you explain to him even though he'll probably only understand what he wants as usual.
he rolls his eyes, "yeah and it's always my fault, right?" he says.
"what- no, that's not-"
"it is," he affirms. he turns his head to you, "every time we so 'need to talk' it's about how i'm wrong, how i shouldn't do this or that, how i should just agree to everything you say and shut my mouth."
you're agape. is this really what he thinks you do? that you only want to complain about him?
"that's not true," you deny, "hyuck, i just want us to communicate, it's important."
he scoffs, "no, you're always the one talking. you don't actually want to hear what i have to say." he looks at you like he's hurt and you start wondering if he might be right. are you really that self-centred? "that's not really what i call communication, you know."
"do you ever ask yourself how i'm feeling? how constantly being rejected makes me feel?" he questions, his gaze not leaving you.
"i don't constantly reject you," you rectify. "sometimes i'm simply not in the mood to sleep with you..."
haechan winces upon hearing your words. "because you are for others?"
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. that's not how you should have said it. "no, that's not what i meant-" but your boyfriend cuts you off, rising up from his gaming chair.
"yeah, no," he shakes his head, "you know what? i've had this feeling that you don't love me like you say you do." he goes around you and you follow him, wanting to reason with him, but he isn't done talking yet.
"we haven't fucked in days and the only thing you let me do is jerk off with your hand. how- how should i interpret that, huh?" haechan sounds genuinely hurt and upset, but that was never your intention to make him feel this way. how could he even doubt your love for him?
"hyuck, please, sit down," you ask, wrapping your hand around his arm to pull him back against you, but he slips away from you.
he turns around and faces you. "are you seeing someone else? is that why?" he suddenly bursts out and you're totally shocked.
"what? no way, how can you think that!?"
he approaches you and this time, you're the one stepping back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. you look up at haechan, heart beating faster and faster.
"you're not denying it," he points out, now only a few inches separating you from him. "you're cheating on me... how can you be so fucking heartless?"
you shake your head from side to side, gulping down. this isn't true. you've always stayed faithful to your boyfriend, but the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking up, eyes swelling up in tears.
he clasps his hand around your bicep, digging his fingers into your flesh, pulling you flushed to his chest.
"i can't believe it," he breathes out, "my girlfriend is a fucking whore."
you're still in shock when he crashes his mouth on you, smacking his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside. your whines are muffled, weak hands pushing on his chest to get him off of you, but to no avail.
you fall on the bed and haechan crushes you with his weight, trapping you under him. you squirm around, not liking the way he doesn't listen to your protests and how he forces himself on you.
his lips descend to your neck, planting quick kisses as if he's in a hurry, going down to the valley of your breasts.
"hyuck, please, stop," you cry, but he doesn't listen.
his fingers hook into your shorts, pulling them down with your underwear, too. your breath is caught in your throat, only exhaling when you feel the familiar push of his cock inside of your unprepared pussy.
"you're mine," he moans, the squeeze of your cunt around him making him frown, "when will you finally understand it..."
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yan-randomfandom · 2 days
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P!Yandere!Pines Family x GN!Teenager!Reader
[PLATONIC] a continuation to this! decided to just make them all yanderes cuz y not lol errmm just subtle ykwim... i'm not proofreading all this so just have my draft
warnings: staring, violence, alcoholics, abuse, blood, implied murder. woah intense
❤️‍🔥
"Then I saved Ford by slicing its eye! You should have seen it!"
You laughed, settling down from your dramatic gestures that you've been making throughout the entire dinner. The entire Pines family watched you in awe, especially Dipper and Mabel, easily captivated by your personality and story.
"Yes, well, they certainly saved my life," Ford chuckled as he fed himself a spoonful of food.
"You have to stop lettin' kids save your life so much," Stan scoffed.
Dipper grabbed a book out of nowhere, clicking his pen in preparation—
"No writing at the dinner table! We talked about this!" Stan called out, earning a sheepish smile from Dipper who immediately drops the book on the ground.
"But what did the monster look like?" Dipper stammered, eventually turning to you with a curious look on his face. He looked eager to learn more. That's what you can tell anyway, if you remove his reddened face, which is most likely from embarrassment.
Mabel, who sat across from you, leaned towards you with the biggest smile on her lips. You grinned back to return her energy. "Bet it was super gross! Was there a lot of blood?! Blaarrrgghhh!!!"
"No gross sounds at the table, pumpkin!" Even Stanley felt like he's tired of his own voice. This is him trying his best to not let you be uncomfortable. Well, he supposed you and his brother brought up the story in the first place.
Speaking of, why were you even here? Ford came back in the mystery shack after missing for a day, only to bring a random teen with him. It's a good thing he cooked extra since he thought Soos was coming over.
But he needed answers fast.
"Ford," Stan whispered firmly, catching his brother's attention. Tilting his head, he tried to signal him to move out, but someone interrupted them before they could do anything.
"Hey! No sneaking out the dinner table!" Mabel exclaimed, pointing a fork at her grunkles.
Stanley stood up and Ford followed his actions. They were already heading out the door with Stan holding his twin's wrist. "Well, sweetheart, VERY REASONABLE EXCUSE!"
As soon as they were out of sight, you and the other kids exchanged looks.
"He did say it's reasonable."
"Yeah, I can live with that."
... You snorted. "You guys are a funny bunch. He literally said the excuse, and you let him go just like that? You must trust each other a lot."
"You have no idea, stranger, you have no idea," Mabel laughed. "Sorry, what was your name again?"
💥
Meanwhile, deep inside the mystery shack, where they were sure there'd be no eavesdropping happening...
"You let the kid stay here without telling their parents?!"
Stanley was freaking out. Yet, he really shouldn't be surprised Ford would do this. Ironically, poindexter would even criticize his behavior, his grunkle methods! How ridiculous is this whole thing, huh?!
"It's more complicated than that! Look, I know this sounds bad—"
"It does!" Stan yelped, his hands clenching. "Their parents must be so worried! And we can't just let them—"
"No, no, Stanley, walk with me here," Ford said, placing his hands on his brother's shoulders. "It's their parents that are the problem."
A few deep breaths from Stan. Alright, okay. This is making more sense now.
"We'll take them to their house first thing in the morning," Ford explained. "Let's see what we'll do from there."
🔥
"I hope my drawing isn't too bad," you chuckled, giving the journal back to Dipper. His eyes skimmed over your illustration of the monster you killed. "It doesn't match yours and Mabel, but..."
"Are you kidding?! It's perfect! Thank you!" Dipper beamed, writing more notes down the rest of the page.
From above, Mabel had her legs folded over the ceiling wood of the house. You looked up and made eye contact, as much as you can anyway. She's upside down.
"Hi! How old are you again?"
How did she even get up there, you wonder. You glanced around, smiling when you realized, and worked your way up.
They stared at you in awe when you climbed right next to Mabel's side. Now you're hanging upside down too. "Cool tricks, Mabel. Hope you don't mind me copying you?"
She doesn't respond, starstrucked. Glancing at Dipper, his jaw was also on the floor.
"Uhhh," you awkwardly smiled, "But I just turned sixteen! You guys are turning thirteen, right?"
"You're the coolest," Mabel whispered, dragging a hand across your face. Okay. That's a bit weird, but it's welcome.
"Thanks," you grinned, manually removing her hand from your face. You looked down at Dipper again. "Hey, Dipper, what time is it?"
He scrambled around and grabbed a watch from somewhere. "Uh, nine o' clock."
"Nine?!" your sudden outburst caused you to fall to the carpet, a pained groan leaving your lips. At least you managed to drop skillfully. "Oh, that hurt."
"Are you okay?!" Dipper rushed to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back.
"Yeah, I just," you paused. "It's nine already? My parents are gonna kill me, man. I gotta go home."
"What!!"
Mabel also dropped down from her outburst, but her landing isn't painful as yours, because you caught her in time. She gazed at you from your arms, stars forming in her eyes.
"Woah. You have fast reflexes!" she squealed as you gently put her down.
Dipper shook his head. "But you can't go home this late at night. Didn't you say you're from outside of Gravity Falls?"
You crossed your arms, pondering. "Yeah, but... Okay, wait, where's Ford?"
Footsteps followed your words. All of you turned to the doorway, seeing the older set of Pines twins. It's kind of amazing, really, you rarely saw twins and this family has two pairs.
"Oh, there you are!" you grinned, walking over to him. Ford blinked at you. "I'm sorry, dude, but I think I overstayed my welcome. I'll go ahead and—"
"Eh, nah," Stanley chimed in, earning your attention, "It's too dark for ya to go out. Let's take you home tomorrow, yeah?"
"But-"
"No butts, they're for sitting," he continued, gently pushing you down on his recliner. You sat down, albeit confused. "Think of it as a sleepover. That's fun, right kids?"
Mabel skipped to your view, an eager grin on her face. "Yeah! We can paint your nails and everything!"
"While I'll show you more of the journals," Dipper beamed, showing one of them to you.
Their ideas were nice, it truly was, but the circumstances are concerning. You couldn't help the frown forming on your lips. They all noticed.
Ford stepped in between them, kneeling and offering you a smile. "Don't worry, kiddo. We'll take good care of you 'til morning. I'm sure your parents will understand."
"I guess I can't really do anything about it," you muttered, eventually accepting the situation. You stood up with a grin. "Okay! Who wants to be unaware of me stealing cool stuff here?!"
"I do!" Mabel screamed, only to pause. "Wait, what?"
"Yeah," Stan squinted, "What?"
You hummed, suddenly behind him, and stared at his wallet. Ford shook his head at you. "You have a very alarming number of IDs. Is this normal? Then again, you're old."
A laugh left Stan as he took his wallet from you. "Oh, I could use that type of skill. Didn't even hear or feel you take it!"
"I can teach you," you smiled.
"Please don't," Dipper groaned.
🌬️
"This journal is amazing! And Ford wrote this? Seriously, no wonder why he was so smart!"
You flipped the book page by page, your jaw dropped the whole time. Sure, a while ago, you saw one page, but only because Dipper told you to draw on it. You didn't expect a whole research surrounding Gravity Falls!
"Interesting enough for you to visit Gravity Falls more often?" Dipper chuckled as he watched you.
"Woah," you smiled, "You like my company that much, Dipper? Don't you have any friends here— oh shoot, wait, I didn't mean—"
A ghost of a frown spread through his face. Why did you have to ask that?! You were just projecting if you had to be honest, but still!!!
"Sorry, that was insensitive," you blurted, closing the book and focusing all your attention on him. "I only said that because I feel that way. I know, that's pretty lame."
He looked surprised. "Really? But you're so cool?"
"Some people think I'm weird is all. But thanks for finding me cool, Dip," you laughed, glancing at Mabel who was snoring. "I find you and your sister cool too. A lot, actually. So it's nice to know you both like me."
Dipper sniffed. "Man. Ditto."
You grabbed a blanket and placed it over Mabel's body, making sure she's covered head to toe. She snuggled up to it unconsciously.
"Welp, bed time," you murmured, reaching for another one. You stretched the blanket, letting Dipper be able to invite himself in. "Come on."
He happily accepted, nestling his head next to your shoulder. Mabel followed him, her head tilting to your chest.
You slept, content.
🌪️
You woke up, disturbed.
The first thing you saw after sleeping is Dipper and Mabel staring at you in silence. As soon as you noticed them, they scrambled away from you and tried to act natural.
Yet, you couldn't forget the small glimpse of their faces. Wide-eyed, a bit of judgment, but most of all, solemn.
Before you could question them, Dipper yelled, "Grunkles! They're awake!"
You winced from the volume of his voice, having just woken up. He immediately apologized to you, but it's all good.
"Visit us again soon! Byeee!"
The next thing you know, you're in the backseat of a car with Stanley next to you. He was pouting, arms crossed.
"This is literally my car. I can't believe it! You won't even let me drive my own car?" he sneered at Ford who sat on the driver's seat.
Ford rolled his eyes. "I can't have you get in trouble by driving again. Think of the kid."
While driving to your address is certainly much faster than walking, it still took a while. You managed to fall asleep, tilting your head on Stan's shoulder. It seemed that you're not alone in being unconscious, because he snored loudly.
Glancing at the mirror, Ford simply exhaled.
You're here.
He parked in front of your house.
Ford nudged Stan awake, who poked you awake next.
You stood up drowsily, holding Stan's hand while walking up to your house. Ford took the lead and knocked on your front door.
To both grunkles' disappointment, things get messy.
Both your parents, drunk, loudly told them off and took you away roughly from Stan. Tears leaked out of your eyes, saying countless apologies to the Pines twins and your parents.
Without much of a fight, Ford forcibly grabbed you back, carrying your body with one arm. He looked at Stan who placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Psst, I'll handle this," Stanley murmured in the midst of your father yapping nonsense. Maybe the professional con-man can knock some sense into your deadbeat parents.
Ford took you back to the car. You sobbed relentlessly, whispering the most saddening things he wished to unhear. He hugged you tightly, muttering sweet nothings until you fell asleep.
After a long while, Stan finally came back.
His eyes were wide. He was shaking.
"I didn't mean to. They started it—I had no choice!"
Gazing down, Ford realized Stan's hands were covered in blood. He swallowed the thickness in his throat.
"...I'll help you clean it up."
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Note
“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”
Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.
Drabble Masterlist
"Don't touch me. We're fighting."
Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.
After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.
"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.
He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."
Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."
All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."
Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."
"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.
"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.
"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.
"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"
"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."
Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."
Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.
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monimccoythings · 2 days
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The Beast Within
Sooo I was trying to write a feral!Logan but this oneshot crossed my mind and I just went along with it. I'll write the feral!logan I want to write when I finish the Wolverine's 1988 run. I think I remember mentioning back in my Retired!Logan headcanons that shall danger come for his family he would be ready and waiting. I wanted to dwell on that.
Summary: You awake only to find yourself and your daughters tied up by some unknown men that wnat to roleplay their wildest and scariest fantasies. Your only hope to survive lies on your husband; a man that gang would soon know they shouldn't have messed with.
Word count: 3087
tags: slight feral!logan, a bit of horror, gn!reader, happy ending, Logan loves his family and will kill for them. A bit ooc Wolverine.
tw: blood, death, attempted rape, non-con elements, kidnapping, swear words.
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It had all happened so quickly. One moment you were entering your home with your daughters in tow, and the next, you were being knocked out by some masked men.
When you opened your eyes, you found yourself unable to move, having been tied to a chair, the cords against your wrists and ankles cutting into your blood flow. Yet you didn't fear for your life.
Desperately you looked around for Laura and your youngest child. Silently praying those assholes hadn't reached them. You nearly bursted into tears when you saw Laura tied to the couch, still knocked out like a light, but fine nevertheless; but that relief was short lived when you saw one of the men holding your youngest in his arms.
"Well, look who's finally up! I'm so glad you could join us."
You mentally counted them, There were about five burly men. All masked, to conceal their identities. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw they were all armed.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Your mind went overdrive with the amount of possibilities. Where they from an anti mutant group? Have you been found out?? Logan had made sure your tracks were covered so nobody would know who and what he and the children were. Where they robbers, then?
"Hmm why would people do what they do?" The supposed leader of the group dramatically pondered. "Us humans always worry about norms, etiquette, social behavior, we repress ourselves..." you let the man rant about how our real animal natures were suppressed by society, you didn't care too much for that, too busy finding different ways to free yourself and save your kids.
"So, to answer your question. We do this for fun. Because we can. Because we aren't afraid to show who we really are." You felt the blood in your veins freeze when you felt the disgusting hand come near your crotch. These people were insane. If they were just robbers, you could just let them take whatever they wanted and wait until they left. Material things could be replaced, but his words implied something much much worse for you.
"Please, just take what you want and leave!" You knew you had to do something, anything just to keep those men away from your babies, just buy enough time for Logan to-
Logan! Yes, he would sense something was wrong, and come for you all! You just-
The man licked a long streak from your collarbone to your cheek, his hungry depraved eyes mirroring those of his accomplices.
"Oh, we are going to take it indeed." He licked his lips in anticipation, his fingers lazily undoing the buttons of your shirt. You felt the cold air in your exposed skin.
"Listen. My husband will come soon. You need to leave now that you can-"
He forcefully grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his empty cold eyes. You didn't find any source of empathy or humanity there. His free hand started to unbutton your jeans.
"Then, he can watch."
The lights went out after that, startling the man and his crew. Some let out a few curses.
"Shut the fuck up! It's just the fucking lights!" The man bellowed towards the rest of the group. He signaled with his head towards the most dimwitted looking member. "Beta! Go check the fuse box!"
The man obediently complied with his orders. The fact that you could barely see, didn't do well for your nerves. They could strike any moment.
Minutes passed and the dude nicknamed 'Beta' hadn't returned. Which was weird, because the fusebox was in a small broom closet at the other end of the cabin, and the cabin wasn't really Charles Xavier's Mansion. You could tell that the man giving the orders was already starting to lose his patience.
"Dumb fuck, can't do shit by himself..." He mumbled. "Gamma! Go tell that stupid bitch to hurry the fuck up!" He turned towards you a terrifying smile on his face "I just can't wait to see the look in your eyes when we break you and the kids."
That was enough for you to lunge towards him, parental instincts activating like crazy. Unfortunately there was little you could do with your limited mobility. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled painfully, you felt tears burning at the corner of your eyes but you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you cry.
"Listen here you little slut. Only I get to bite, only I get to kick, and when I'm done with you l, you'll be-"
"Alpha, he ain't here!" 'Gamma''s voice could be heard from the hall. That only fueled 'Alpha's' impatience.
"I ask him a simple task and he fucking gets lost! Look better or none of you are having a piece of this whore!!"
His eyes turned back to yours. A hungry, wicked look crossed them. His mouth went towards your neck, as much as you tried to resist you couldn't pull away from his strong hold in your hair. You let out a scream when he bit you, praying that he hadn't bitten hard enough to draw blood, but that only seemed to encourage him, just as his tongues was lapping at the bruising bitemark you heard someone scream from the end of the hall.
"OH FUCKING SHIT!!"
*bang*
*bang*
And then nothing. That seemed to alert the group, the leader, Alpha, immediately pulling away and releasing you from his vice grip.
"The fuck was that!?" He commanded "Beta! Gamma! Answer now!"
No answer.
With your heart in your throat you quickly took deep breaths, trying to recover a sense of calmness and normalcy that you knew was long lost. But you had to. Your kids were still unconscious you needed to protect them.
"Sigma. Get out and secure the perimeter."
'Sigma' didn't look very convinced but as long as he released your little baby girl everything would be fine. You could practically feel the hesitation in him as he lowered your daughter onto the nearest armchair and quietly exited the living room, gun in hand.
"Whatever the fuck is trying to screw with us, is going to learn this 'pack' doesn't go down easily."
Minutes passed of eery silence, each minute felt like agonizing hours. You thought it would never end until you heard a blood curling scream followed by the sound of glass breaking and something splattering against the walls.
That's when you heard it. An animalistic snarl. It was faint, but it was definitely there and filled your heart with hope like no other. This time you were surely going to cry from joy.
He had arrived.
You were saved.
Tears fell freely down your cheeks, you couldn't help the broad smile that formed in your features.
"Oh God he's here. He's here..." You repeated over and over like a mantra, as if you couldn't quite believe it.
"The fuck is this bitch talking about??" He backhanded you so roughly that you thought you saw stars, the sharp pain in your cheek was nothing compared to the huge relief you were feeling.
'Alpha' turned towards the last remaining member of his 'pack'. "What are you waiting for, dumbass?? Lock the fucking doors!"
The other guy didn't move for a few seconds, obviously scared at this dramatic turn of events. The tension between him and the leader was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You were sure he was wondering why he should risk his life for a plan that was going awry with each passing second. Maybe he was also considering shooting down 'Alpha' and be done with it.
Before he has time to live up that fantasy, he found himself looking straight at the end of 'Alpha's' Magnum. This was no longer a fun game for them. It had stopped being a game when 'Beta' hadn't returned.
"Lock. The fucking. Doors." 'Alpha's' voice was unusually quiet and full of promises of a world of pain if he disobeyed his orders. There was no other choice but to follow his lead, as always.
With trembling hands, the poor guy put the safety lock as best as he could. Once done, he breathed a sigh of relief, believing him safe.
Until a massive arm, broke through the glass of the door and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him a couple of inches off the ground. The man kicked and struggled, trying in vain to reach for his gun. When the hand released him, he hurriedly went for it before he was grabbed again but was stopped by three metal claws piercing through his skull, killing him instantly. The man fell to the ground like a ragdoll.
"Shit." 'Alpha' whispered, feeling for the first time that night true fear. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" His panic grew as he saw the killer of his 'packmate' kick the doors open as if it was nothing.
You couldn't see him, but you knew he was pissed like he had never been before.
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
'Alpha' fired bullet after bullet towards him. A single shot would have taken down a grown man. But this wasn't a normal man. Oh no, they had just gone after the family of one of the most dangerous men to ever live.
Logan slowly stepped into the moonlight and your breath caught in your throat. From his beard, to his clothes, blood was dripping, but not from the gunshotwounds, those were already healed. His sharp teeth, bared in a feral snarl were stained with blood, having used them to tear through flesh and bone. The icing on the cake were his eyes, those eyes that looked at you with so much tenderness and lust, that crinkled with happiness when they saw his little ones run towards him; they were just empty, void of any rational thought.
You shuddered at his primal display.
The man known just as 'Alpha' took a step back. For all his talk about how he didn't repress from his animal urges and how he was an alpha male, he found himself small and insignificant in the presence of a real animal. Every adamantium coated bone in Logan's body exuded dominance, power, strength; it was overwhelming. 'Alpha' knew if he didn't play his cards well he would end up like the rest of his 'pack' or worse.
Cold sweat formed on your forehead when the gun pointed towards you.
"One more step, and I'll shoot." His voice was deadly quiet, but you could hear the fear hidden behind all that bravado.
Logan stopped, a low growl building up in his throat. His eyes quickly darted towards yours and returned towards his enemy. You knew you had little time, as long as the 'Alpha' kept his eyes locked on Logan's; he wouldn't dare shoot you unless he wanted to have the slowest and most painful death there was, he just needed to think for a better plan of action, which gave you a wonderful opportunity to ponder about how you were going to get out safely, you had to act fast enough to give Logan some margin.
As quiet as you could muster, you started balancing yourself from side to side. Each second that passed increased your chances of ending up with a hole in your chest. A couple of swings more and-
"AAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHHH"
'Alpha' roared in pain when Laura out of nowhere, sunk her teeth and bone claws on his leg. Unfortunately, as a reflex, he accidentally pressed the trigger.
You would never be sure about how you got so lucky that night, as you fell sideways with the chair, the bullet barely grazed your shoulder. You had evaded death miraculously and there was a new hole in the wall.
Logan didn't waste his opportunity. Before 'Alpha' had the chance to kick Laura off his leg, he freed his claws and with a swift motion slashed his yugular vein with two clean cuts.
The blood splattered on his chest and face like a fountain. Alpha's body went limp and fell lifeless to the side. You let out a sigh in relief, as tears ran again freely down your cheeks.
The nightmare was over.
But not for Logan.
For a couple of seconds, he just stood there, breathing heavily, and coated in blood. Laura stood at his feet, looking at him apprehensively, as if sensing there was something wrong.
"Logan." You called for him reassuringly, but he didn't even look at you. You doubted he had heard you. His fists were clenching and unclenching, his knuckles were turning white. The veins in his arms bulged against the swollen muscles. His breaths came out in short puffs of air. Whatever he was feeling right now, you needed to pull him out of it.
His head turned sharply when he heard your youngest stirring. He looked at his bloodied hands and finally looked at you with a mixture of panic and dread. He didn't know what to do.
"Laura. Laura, sweetheart, untie me." She snapped out from her stupor and quickly tore through the cords, freeing you at last. You massaged your wrists, hoping to return your bloodflow back to normal. As much as you'd have loved to rest there was no time to lose.
You understood Logan's fear. It was already painful enough for him to have Laura watching him when he was like that, he didn't want the other one to go through the same trauma.
You quickly rushed towads him and he flinched back, still in shock. "It is okay, Logan. We're safe. You saved us. I'm going to take the girls to her room okay? He barely nodded, his eyes unfocused. You would deal with him later, now the kids were a top priority.
You would heal together, later.
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He had scrubbed the floors clean until he thought he was going to pass out from the chemicals. He had hidden the bodies or whatever remained of them in a place where he knew nobody would ever look for them. Not that they'd be missed, he supposed.
It scared him how good he was at this. He should have gotten used to it by now, after all, he was the best at what he did, and what he did wasn't very nice.
It had been to good to be true. A sweet dream before waking up and facing reality. He had gotten sloppy and his family had paid the price. He didn't even know what those had wanted, nor did he care. One single look through the window and all sense of rationality had left his brain leaving only the animal that deep down he knew he was.
What would you think of him now? Did you regret marrying him? Knowing what he did was one thing, but actually witnessing it was another. What had transpired tonight would surely define your relationship for the rest of your lives
And Laura? He had worked so hard to erase the violence and trauma of her earlier years, to give her a normal childhood with a family. And he had just pulled her back.
He buried his face in his hands, grabbing chunks of his hair. He was a monster, an animal, a mindless-
He jumped and turned around with a snarl on his face and his claws ready when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Logan's tense muscles visibly relaxed when he saw it was just you, but he was still restless.
"Logan, it's okay. It's just me" You knew exactly was was crossing his mind. After years of knowing each other, you knew that the legendary Wolverine, the man that would take his secrets to his grave, could be easily read like an open book if you got close enough.
"Honey, this is not your fault. You came and saved us. We're here because of you." You couldn't bear the thought of him punishing himself over something that wasn't even his fault to begin with.
"I should have been there with you. I should have arrived sooner, then you wouldn't have to go through-" His gruff voice sounded so broken, so terrified, there was nothing you wanted more than to cradle him in your arms. "I'm a monster." He quietly whispered.
"You are not a monster. You. Are. Not. Not a monster, neither an animal." You cupped his face in your hands, looking into his eyes sternly.
"I-I lost control. I saw you there tied up and I lost it. Laura saw it, and our little-"
"Shhhh... They are alright. They are okay in their bedroom. Laura knew you were protecting us, she has always known." You ran your fingers through his wild hair, marvelling at how his tufts stayed up no matter the situation.
You gently guide him back into the house. You don't look at the toppled chair, or the hole in the wall, or the mountain of cleaning products. Neither of you wanted to think about that. When you reached the bedroom, you undressed each other, taking your time, memorizing every string of clothing. Your discarded attires formed a dirty and bloody pile in the corner.
Tenderly, like treating a very vulnerable creature, you cleaned his face, chest and hands with a towel. You could feel the raw power stored in that massive torso and hands, you knew what he could do with those. But you also knew how careful and soft he was around you and the girls.
You put on your comfiest pijamas and got ready for bed, leaving the mess of that night for the next day. Before he climbed in with you, Logan stopped and takes a step back.
"What's wrong?" You asked.
"Wait here." He hurriedly exited your bedroom, leaving you alone, baffled at his behavior. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone after that night.
Your initial confusion gave way to tenderness when you saw him return holding a daugther on each of his thick arms. Laura blinked groggily at you, annoyed at having been woken up from her slumber. You quickly craddled her in your arms, kissing her forehead.
Holding your youngest baby girl to his chest he got in bed, his free arm pulling you and Laura closer, trapping you in an embrace. He kissed your head, his soft breaths along with those of your daughters were enough to lull you to sleep.
You were safe.
Nobody was going to get you.
He would make sure of that.
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masonmontz · 3 days
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heey, hope you like it :)
fluff word count: 1,2k
✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹
You sighed when you stopped the car and saw Mason standing there waiting for you, and as soon as he saw you he walked slowly towards the car looking at the ground.
Rasmus walked in front of the car and greeted you, and you gave him a smile, but you knew neither of them were happy about the draw in today's game.
“Hey babe” you said as Mason sat in the passenger seat, and he just threw his backpack in the back seat and rested his head on the seat. 
“Hey” he spoke softly and sighed, and you unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned in to leave a kiss on his cheek. Mason turned his face and you kissed his lip, trying to hug him, but a car honked behind you and you had to let go of him. “What a day.” 
You smiled and started to leave the airport parking lot while Mason didn't say anything, and he was quiet the whole way home. It wasn't a bad game, but Manchester United didn't score any goals even with possession, and they missed a lot of chances to score, but you know that's not what's bothering Mason.
“Do you want to have dinner with me?” you asked as soon as you entered the house, without talking much during the journey. You talked about everything except football, and sometimes Mason answered or he just listened to you. “I can make pasta or we can order something.”
“Actually, honey, I'm not hungry, but you can order something for dinner and I'll pay” he said and took off his uniform jacket, and you just shrugged because it's hard to comfort Mason at times like this. “I'm going to take a shower.”
You sighed and went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water and then went back to the living room to look for a restaurant to order something for you, and even though Mason said he wasn't hungry, you knew he would eat your food if you didn't order anything for him. 
Fifteen minutes passed and Mason still hadn't come downstairs, which was odd, so you put your phone away after ordering Mexican food for the two of you and went upstairs to talk to him.
You could hear the shower running from the bathroom in your room, so you walked over there only to see Mason with his eyes closed and his hand resting against the wall. He had left the door open, but you still knocked before entering. Mason opened his eyes and saw you, and even though he was sad he smiled at you, making your heart skip a beat. 
Mason turned off the shower and you grabbed a towel for him from the counter, and as soon as he opened the shower you handed him the towel, which he thanked you for before starting to dry himself.
You watched Mason dry himself off as you leaned against the bathroom sink, and even though you knew he was sad, you couldn't help but run your eyes over his thick thighs, which looked more attractive every day. Mason wrapped the towel around his waist and you left the bathroom, and when you lay down on the bed, he went to the closet to put on a black sweatsuit. 
In less than five minutes he threw himself next to you on the bed, and you just reached out to stroke his damp hair.
“Wanna talk about today?” you asked and Mason closed his eyes, putting his hands on his face. “You don't have to keep it all to yourself, Mase.”
“I’m so frustrated” he said and you sighed, approaching him and placing your face in his neck. “I don't even know why I traveled with the team today if I didn't even leave the bench.”
“You were injured until last week” Mason tends to put too much pressure on himself and that's why he gets so frustrated when things don't go as he expects.
“I know, but Erik said that I was going to play today and he didn't even consider putting me in, it's ridiculous” you just put your hand on his chest and caressed it over his sweatshirt, but it was difficult because Mason spent his vacations training to be in the best shape and return to play and he got injured quickly, and only you saw how he reacted when he received the news that he was injured again.
“You need to be patient, Mason, Coach believes in you and-”
“I've been patient for so long, I just want to play and be a starter in a game for ninety minutes, is it really that difficult?” you could hear the frustration in his voice, and he knows you get sad the same way he does. “I can't stand reading so many bad messages about myself anymore, and it consumes me.”
“I know last season was tough, honey, but everyone knows how hard you worked to get back in top shape this season” you said. “Erik believes in you and so do I. You're there for a reason, you need to understand that the more you demand of yourself, the more frustrated you become.”
“Sometimes I feel like I'll never play like I did at Chelsea and-”
“You know you will, the season has started now, you have many months left to prove everyone they were wrong about you.”
“I just feel like if he had put me in today we would have had a chance, I just watched them and couldn't do anything to help the team.” 
“Today's draw wasn't your fault, and yeah, maybe you would have helped if you had played but questioning the coach is not the best idea, Mase. Who knows, maybe next time you'll start as a starter?”
Mason didn't respond and just sighed, but he pulled you against him and wrapped his legs around yours, hugging you while leaving a few kisses on your neck. You laughed out loud as he tickled you because he wouldn't let you go as he laughed with you at your screams. 
“Let me go, oh my God” you were out of breath from laughing so hard, and Mason climbed on top of you and finally stopped tickling you, and you pulled him by the neck and pressed his lips against yours. Mason leaned on the bed and when you ended the kiss he looked at you smiling, and you ran your hands over his face, because you love seeing him happy.
“Thank you for this, I know I'm being annoying but you always know how to help me” he said and you just gave him a little kiss. “You’re the best part of me, Y/n.” 
“You can talk to me about anything, right? I'll always support you, Mason.” Mason lowered his head to give you another kiss, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted you. 
“What’s that?”
“My dinner.”
“Your dinner? How about me?” 
“You said you were not hungry” you said as you walked down the stairs, smiling. 
“Looks like I'll have to eat yours then” Mason said and took the credit card before leaving the house and going to get your dinner. 
You went to the kitchen to get some plates and cutlery and returned to the living room, so you could have dinner as you always do at the coffee table watching some movie. 
“Ah, you really know how to make me feel better” he said as he saw you sitting on the carpet. 
“Do you want to watch One Tree Hill with me? Please, please” you begged and he smile. “Thank you, that’s why you’re my favorite.” 
“Just because I love you, ‘cause I can't stand hearing about Nathan and Haley anymore.”
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
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garfunklefield · 1 day
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700 Follower Special!
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Baby come sit on my face~
college student!fem!reader/professor!Toji Fushiguro/professor!Kento Nanami/professor!Choso Kamo/professor!Suguru Geto Warnings: classroom sex, orgy, semi-public sex, spit roasting, double penetration, blow job, hand job, Choso and Geto lowkey start getting freaky, intense breeding, pussy eating, nipple sucking/play Word count: 2757 DESC: You decide to get extra credit the only way you know how ... being a whore
Ok maybe this is not coherent I AM SICK!! But thank you for 700!! Next up issssssssssss BDSM month!
NOTES: I've been putting this off for so long I'm already passed 700 LMAO. I don't know if this is going to be anything special but hey orgy man
How hard was it to get extra credit? Any normal student would do the simple things, you know, email their teachers professionally and ask for extra coursework. Or perhaps, buy school supplies on their professor's wish lists to boost themselves up in the classroom. For you, it was different. You were a full-time college student, although full-time was a stretch. Over time was a better word for the number of classes you took. Economics, history, math, geography, English- I could go on. But here’s the thing, as much as you tried to be a scholar student, you were falling behind. Your grades were slipping into terrible territory.  
So what else were you to do but ask for extra credit? You had seen enough porn to know how it would go. And you had also not interacted with enough humans to realize the idea was utterly insane. I mean, gathering all four of your professors [trust me it would’ve been more, but they were busy] into a desolate classroom as you stripped? It was insanity! Why the hell would these esteemed professors ever ruin their careers for some fun? Well, knowing them, you made the right choice. Your choice of winky faces and ~ made them all quirk their brows, but they weren’t stupid.  
Professor Kamo, for geography, was the first to arrive. He was a dark-dressed, tall individual. Out of all your professors, he was the absolute cutest. The way his face scrunched into a pout as he waited for answers, or how he beamed when talking about his favorite geological locations. You had to admit, you had fantasized about every teacher, but he was the one you liked the most. You imagined pulling on his hair, or even putting it up to make him such a cute little puppy. He would be a perfect sub, following you around with a subtle collar on his neck. Something to show you were his owner. Oh, you loved it.  
Then both your economics and your math teacher came in, Dr. Nanami and Mr. Fushiguro. Dr. Nanami was older, with blonde hair with salt and pepper starting to sprinkle at his roots. By far, he was the oldest and the sexist, although Mr. Fushiguro was a very close second. They were both tall and muscular from what you could tell, but your dark-haired professor had a sort of delinquent charm you found riveting. He would sit on top of his desk, talk candidly, and openly curse without caring if the students were offended. You wished he’d bend you over that same desk and whisper those stupid equations you never got in your ears.  
Finally, Professor Geto arrived. If you thought Mr. Fushiguro was a delinquent, he was nothing compared to the youngest professor. He had long hair, typically pulled back in a bun. The man insisted he only had a very limited number of tattoos, but you always saw more peak out from his sleeves or the underside of his shirt if he extended his arms. He was absolutely covered, with piercing holes in his face from jewelry you knew he had to take off every morning. His eyes too, God, they were sultry without even trying. The perfect seductive stare, every time he looked at you. It wasn’t purposeful, but you hoped it was. 
Your teachers all gathered at random desks as you were seated on top of a desk before them. Your outfit left little to the imagination, making it a bit hard for any of them to keep their eyes off you. White buttons on your blouse, pulling at your breasts and barely staying together. Your lacy black bra was peeking out, as was your thong. It was cheesy, but your only reference was shitty porn, right? Then a pencil skirt, but nothing office-appropriate. If anything, it was short and tight. It hugged the fat of your thighs perfectly, making them protrude as your legs crossed.  
Mr. Fushiguro was the first to break the silence, crossing his arms with a glare your way, “So is this the emergency?” He raised an eyebrow and motioned to your clothes [or lack thereof], “You don’t seem too … stressed out.” God that tone, the way he sized you up with his eyes. It was utterly seductive and utterly disparaging how you couldn’t run your hands over his muscles.  
“I think she might want extra credit,” Dr. Nanami concluded, taking a hold of his tie. Each day he arrived at class with a new tie, and today he chose your favorite. Just a plain black tie, but it contrasted beautifully against his pale skin tone. His fingers wrapped around the fabric and slowly he pulled it back and forth, off his neck. Oh well, he already got the memo it seemed. Your other two Professors simply watched as the two older men approached you with hunger in their eyes, stalking you like prey. You were going to be theirs tonight- all of theirs.  
Your black-haired professor was the first to take hold of you, placing his large hand on your thigh. It almost made you shiver, how he took your skin like you were nothing more than a mere object. His fingers dug into the plush fat and kneaded it slowly, just to see how you would react. You, obviously, were feeling a bit of arousal at this kind of touch. It was evident in how you bit your bottom lip, grating your teeth to the pleasure building in your lower half. It was kind of pathetic, how just a few simple touches were making your clit throb with anticipation. What didn’t help was another hand grabbing ahold of your jaw, turning your head to face him. Kento’s eyes were cold and grey, something you had grown fond of. It was hot, how he took charge and narrowed his eyes on you. Looking at you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy. Oh, and you were, you were so prepared for all of this. Pathetic.  
He leaned forward, slowly placing his loosened tie around your neck and tightening it. Just enough you could feel it, not enough to restrict your airflow. Although, you wouldn’t have minded if it made you choke- if he made you choke. The blonde pulled on the tie, making you fall forward into his grasp, where your lips finally met. You could hear a groan escape your other professor, but hell, you could’ve cared less. Fingers entangled in your hair as his mouth overtook yours in a sloppy bliss. Over and over did his tongue search your mouth and roll circles against your own. Teeth collided as you throbbed, completely soaking your underwear. You needed him, no you needed all of them.  
You pulled back from the kiss in search of Toji, locking lips with him next. He grabbed a hold of the tie and tightened it to the base of your neck, dominating your mouth in a slow kiss. It was painful, how he made you take your time instead of greedily taking him like you wanted to. Like you so badly wanted to. His large hand found a home on your hips, while more sets of hands spread apart your legs. You couldn’t tell who was pulling down your underwear as it fell to your ankles, warm fingers spreading apart your folds. Tongue against tongue and lips against lips, that’s all you could focus on as you felt lips on your neck, biting away, lips on your breasts, and a pair of hot lips against your clit. God, it was so overstimulating.  
You pulled away again to take in the scene before you, leaning back onto Professor Kamo for support as he bit at your neck. Nanami had undone your blouse … at some point and was beginning to mark your chest with his mouth, sloppily kissing the skin as if you were his last meal. Then Suguru had placed himself between your legs, face pressed against your warmth. It looked like he couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t coming up for air. The pleasure was building; He wasn’t taking his time either. Although it was a slow build, it was intense. The kind of waves you’d only truly get from one of those rose toys. How the hell did he do that with his mouth? 
Another kiss took hold of you, this time by Choso. It was different from the rest, so sweet and soft. God, you wanted to corrupt this sweet kiss. You wanted to corrupt him most of all, make him beg to cum repeatedly until he was a panting mess. You leaned your head against his, pushing your mouth against his for more friction.  
Slowly your pussy was feeling swollen, as if it was already conceding from just this little amount of abuse. You wanted to cum, God you wanted to cum all over Professor Geto. Just coat him in your hot slick and watch as he had one of the other Professors lick him clean, before they’d get distracted and make out. That thought made you let out a noise, something you hadn’t done up until that point. They didn’t expect you to be so silent, but now it was all coming out. Your back arched to the thought of the men forgetting about you and taking each other instead, fucking until they were all a huge mess of sweat and spit. You moaned to the thought of Toji grabbing ahold of Choso’s face and tongue fucking him with all his strength, and how it would look. How it would sound too. The noises the two men would make, mixing with the sounds of the other men. And your wet pussy, how you’d touch yourself to the sight. It was making you clench at the thought.  
“Pretty girl,” Suguru cooed, pulling back from your cunt with slick trailing from his chin. One of his fingers slowly found its way inside, followed by another one, followed by a third. You gaped at the sensation, wishing you were fuller. Full of their cocks and their cum, pumping load after load into your cervix. You couldn’t speak, instead all you could do was whimper into Choso’s mouth as he grew desperate for your tongue, slowly grinding his erection into your back. It pressed against your curves and made you hungry to taste it, letting it fill your throat.  
“Fuck me,” you finally rasped, pulling away from the kiss and tapping Kento’s head a few times. Toji had been busy licking and sucking on your neck, but once he heard your words, he pushed you back against the desk. It was enough to overpower Choso’s hold on you, sending you falling back onto the hardwood.  
You weren’t sure how it happened, all of it becoming such a blur, but you found yourself straddling Dr. Nanami, with his cock ghosting your cunt, Toji, with his erection pressed against your anus, and your two other Professors standing before you, their dicks waiting to be touched by your greedy hands. You were salivating, reaching out and taking a hold of Choso’s boner before your mouth wrapped around Geto’s. He couldn’t help but grab the base of your neck, forcing you down his length. Then you felt Kento slide you down, and Toji force slicked fingers inside your hole. It was all at once, how you were being fucked and fingered, then sucking and stroking. God, it was becoming too much, how you were used and used like you were nothing more than a toy.  
Your hand stroked Kamo’s cock as your tongue lolled around Suguru’s dick. It tasted so good and felt like bliss as it kissed your throat. Each thrust of his hips sent his tip deeper and deeper until you felt yourself gag. All the while, Nanami was taking you with slow strokes. He wanted to feel you, take his time with you. Savor your plush pussy as he bottomed out. Then he wanted to fuck you, deep and hard, until you could barely take it. But the good slut you were, you’d take it. You’d take all of it like a good girl. God, it was driving him crazy.  
Toji’s fingers were circling your entrance and teasing your asshole, plunging into your hole slowly just to feel you stretch around him. It was first one digit, before the rest followed suit. You gasped around Geto’s length and pulled back, arching to the sensation of your cunt and your hole being penetrated. It was so good, touching spots you didn’t even know existed. But you were neglecting your other professor, who you saw was whimpering into your touch. Just like the pathetic sub he was, he wanted your mouth all around his member. You complied, swallowing Choso whole as your two hands began to satiate your other professors' burning desire.  
“F-fuck,” Kento stuttered, his hands planting themselves on your hips as he thrust into you. You finally tuned into the sounds around you, hearing the squelching and moaning from the men surrounding you. Toji was groaning into your ass as he finger fucked you, the blonde was losing himself in your walls, Choso was whining and gripping your hair, and Suguru was letting out breathy gasps from your hands alone. It was overstimulating. Each hole, each orifice, and each part of your body was being tended to. Who cared about the homework at this point? It had become more than that as you were used and fucked for their pleasure. You were a toy, a fuck thing. You were nothing more than someone who was being used to get all these older men off, and it was getting you closer and closer to the edge.  
You wanted to cum so bad all over Kento and Mr. Fushiguro hadn’t even gotten to fuck your tight asshole yet. You wanted to feel Choso splatter ropes of pure hot and white cum down your throat, bucking his hips and forcing you to choke as he kept going. You wanted to feel Suguru paint your face in his sperm as he thrust into your two hands, since his cock was too big for one. And especially, you wanted Professor Nanami to make you a good little mommy. You wanted him to fuck you repeatedly until you were swollen, until you were bulging with his cock and his spunk. God, the thought of your cervix being kissed by his dick was getting you off. Then you felt your asshole begin to stretch.  
Maybe that’s what sent you over the edge in an orgasm. It took over and within seconds you let out a sob. Your head pulled back from Mr. Kamo’s member as you leaned forward onto the man below you. There was intense bliss that filled your pussy and flowed into your brain, different than anything you’ve ever felt before. It was arousing, causing the yearning fire to come back moments after you had finished. Then Kento finished inside you. Your walls clenching around him was too much, sending him over the edge as the coil in his stomach broke. White and hot spurts of cum were pumped deep into your tight hole, as he fucked his orgasm right back into you.  
All the while, you hadn’t noticed the two men before you decided to get each other off instead of waiting on you. Choso pressed his lips sloppily to Suguru’s, wrapping his arms around the other as his dick rubbed against his length. It was hot to see them get each other off, holding their cocks together and bucking them up and down. His tip was swollen and leaking, brushing against Geto’s in a way you knew felt so good. You wanted to hold them together and press your fingers against their slits in a way that would drive them crazy, but feeling two men fuck into you was starting to get too much.  
Toji fucked into you like he had an agenda, and it was to get his own release. He didn’t care about your pleasure, and it was turning you on again. Kento on the other hand was trying so hard to keep his composure in favor of your pleasure. Yet, you so desperately wanted him to lose control and use you. You were their fuck toy. And you’d let them use you again, and again, and again, if it meant they could get off. You loved it. You relished in being used like a nasty whore. And they got off on that fact, too.  
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