#I have never liked making these but I think this is short enough that I can stand it lol

[tonycries]

Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot. 

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way. 

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything. 

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, you should’ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily. 

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down- 

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you. 

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp. 

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing. 

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet. 

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.” 

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to. 

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside. 

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow. 

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips. 

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it. 

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later. 

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear. 

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter. 

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else’s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence. 

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was. 

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning. 

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest. 

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder. 

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic. 

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft. 

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please- 

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure. 

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples. 

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard. 

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice. 

It was agonizing. 

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit. 

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- “I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes. 

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high. 

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before. 

And it makes him cum 

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty. 

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin. 

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–! 

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass. 

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside. 

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy. 

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?” 

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over. 

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro. 

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible. 

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke. 

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he. 

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips. 

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

.

.

.

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already. 

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk. 

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat. 

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick. 

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly  what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back. 

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss. 

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans. 

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking. 

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was. 

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up. 

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself. 

Or…was he? 

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls. 

Either you could take him or he’ll make space. 

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear. 

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls. 

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed. 

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more. 

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously. 

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now. 

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate. 

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue- 

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose. 

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved. 

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness. 

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself. 

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt. 

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him. 

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows. 

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know. 

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine. 

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible. 

It’s like Toji was out of control. 

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea. 

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy. 

He’s so filthy. 

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words. 

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name. 

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well. 

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting. 

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright. 

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed. 

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around. 

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later. 

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock! 

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[astonmartinii]

put it all on red (bull) | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem russell reader

her brother won the race? does she know? does she care?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, georgerussell63 and 204,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: VIVA LAS VEGAS

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user3: this is fucking hilarious

user4: her whole ass brother won the actual race and there's not a peep of him on the post

user5: i mean her boyfriend did win the championship...

yourusername: exactlyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i mean my instagram is for pretty girls only

user6: do not erase george's beauty

yourusername: nothing to erase girlypop - FUGLY!

user7: the way the guys are in the media pen and can't see that y/n is coming for their necks in instagram comments

user8: i fear she's already started drinking...

user9: in the back of the sky broadcast she hands max a drink and i'm starting to suspect that it was not water or red bull

user10: LMAO HELMUT TOOK A SIP AND LIKE NEARLY FELL OVER

yourusername: i've never claimed to be good at mixing drinks

maxverstappen1: WHERE WAS THE TONIC ???

yourusername: i don't believe in tonic 💔

maxverstappen1: YOU GAVE ME STRAIGHT GIN?

yourusername: straight 🤣

maxverstappen1: Y/N THAT'S ATTEMPTED MURDER ON HELMUT ???

yourusername: free me i did nothing wrong !!!

user11: these people kill me

user12: sign of a healthy relationship is making gay allegations about each other

yourusername: ALLEGATIONS ???

yourusername: george is lucky that he was the first russell carmen met ...

georgerussell63: RIGHT, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH

georgerussell63: thank you for the congratulations but STOP flirting with MY girlfriend

yourusername: congratulations??? for what?

georgerussell63: WINNING THE RACE?

yourusername: boring!

georgerussell63: you are so lucky we're family because you are a few cards short of a deck

yourusername: CARDS? that reminds me ... time to gamble!

maxverstappen1

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 1,342,988 others

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maxverstappen1: winning without the fastest car isn't for everyone

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user13: this caption has y/n russell written all over it

yukitsunoda0511: i sat here and watched them giggle to themselves for a good five minutes while posting this

user14: tell max to post more pictures like the second one

yukitsunoda0511: they are not safe for innocent eyes and they are not taken with a locked door :/

user15: why are you there ???

yukitsunoda0511: they're very generous when they're drunk !

user16: so real

yukitsunoda0511: it's also not just me :(

user17: just how many people are using the bar tab?

liamlawson30: me!

oscarpiastri: me!

charles_leclerc: me!

landonorris: me!

pierregasly: me!

alexalbon: me!

yourusername: broke bitches

carlossainz55: you do not have a job?

yourusername: gambling and being pretty is more of a job that what you will have next season 🤨

carlossainz55: has anyone ever told you you're a really mean drunk

yourusername: just george about a billion times, you get used to it (we just don't invite you out)

user18: she is just dragging anyone now

user19: hold on that is her boyfriend's work boyfriend's enemy

user20: girl is 90% of lestappen twitter's source and you think she's not gonna have a problem with sainz???

yourusername: you're so sexy i actually can't even function

maxverstappen1: gotta put the trophy in trophy husband somehow

yourusername: jokes aside i am super duper proud of you, this year has been insane and you've proven that you are the bestest eva

maxverstappen1: couldn't have done it without my fave cheerleader

yourusername: i'll wear the uniform and everything ....

schecoperez: STOP

georgerussell63: still no congratulations? i know you won the title or whatever but we're going to be brothers soon SHOW SOME RESPECT

yourusername: literally suck his dick

yourusername: wait no

yourusername: suck my dick

yourusername: WAIT NO

yourusername: choke ❤️

georgerussell63: i have no words at this point

maxverstappen1: so romantic hehehehe

yourusername

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tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: put it all on on red (bull)

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user22: ma'am why is there a cat?

user23: i think we already know the answer

user24: oh i know the answer i just wanna know the batshit explanation

georgerussell63: exsqueeze me ???

yourusername: don't speak like that about your nephew ??

georgerussell63: tell me you're not keeping it??

maxverstappen1: IT? HE JUST LEAPFROGGED YOU IN OUR WILL

georgerussell63: 1. you have a joint will ??? 2. why am i on it ??? 3. what is a cat doing with a monaco penthouse ???

maxverstappen1: i thought you could use the money ? i know toto ain't paying you what he promised me

yourusername: george your weird sugar daddy is more broke than you think sorry xx

georgerussell63: once again, what is stopping me taking the monaco house from a literal cat ?

yourusername: caesar will be very aware of his rights string bean - just because you talk in an uppity accent doesn't mean you actually know anything

georgerussell63: i cannot tell who corrupted who but i am sick of being your victim :(

user25: yes as fun as watching them dog george is i do want to know caesar's origin story

user26: i have a very bad feeling i know where he got his name

alexalbon: HE'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE CASINO IS HE?

yourusername: ding ding ding we have a winner, always knew you were the smarter half of galex

maxverstappen1: your gambling is getting out of hand

yourusername: did i or did i not win us a cat ?

maxverstappen1: AND £250,000 ???

yourusername: didn't want to promote gambling too much

yourusername: KIDS DO NOT GAMBLE IT IS DUMB

yourusername: look at me i literally have a child now ???

user27: we have lost the original plot of the movie

user28: you must be new, we stopped trying to make sense of these two years ago

lewishamilton: i can assure you it does not get any easier when you know them personally

yourusername: we aim to be sexy and mysterious

lewishamilton: that's strange because you guys dance like little boys and overshare at any given opportunity

maxverstappen1: guilty !

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 873,409 others

tagged: lewishamilton, yourusername & maxverstappen1

georgerussell63: i won the las vegas grand prix and all i got was this lousy cat

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user29: i am sensing a y/n and max meltdown incoming

user30: maybe they're too hungover to argue?

yourusername: NEVER

maxverstappen1: LOUSY CAT? FIRST OF ALL HE'S NOT YOURS SO KEEP HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH AND ALSO I WILL KILL YOU WITH A GUN

georgerussell63: excuse me?

yourusername: do NOT threaten my boyfriend !!!!!!!!

georgerussell63: do you have selective sight or something?

yourusername: no i just like him more than i like you

georgerussell63: you only met him because of me?

maxverstappen1: i have faith we would've found each other regardless we have a SOUL TIE

yourusername: EXACTLY

georgerussell63: i give up.

yourusername: this is exactly why you don't have a championship ... no drive (pun intended)

georgerussell63: NOW THAT'S IT

maxverstappen1: are you threatening my girlfriend?

georgerussell63: OMG LEAVE ME ALONE

user31: their commitment to never letting george have a day of peace is really quite charming

user32: they're going to give him grey hairs before he even turns 27

alexalbon: i gotta say georgie, i'm not with you on this one - caesar is THE dude

georgerussell63: are all my eggs falling out of the basket at once?

maxverstappen1: that's called karma for calling caesar 'it' and a lousy cat

georgerussell63: i can't lie i am missing your honeymoon phase you guys were a lot nicer

yourusername: we never left the honeymoon phase we just like annoying all of you

maxverstappen1: makes you people leave us alone :3

landonorris: you don't have to be mean to do that

yourusername: YOU JUST GOT OFF OF THIN ICE NORRIS WATCH YOUR STEP

user33: they can make excuses all these want but they just like annoying everyone else

user34: i mean based on their vegas shenanigans i think they would be super fun to be around

yourusername: oscar literally came to stay while he 'looked for a flat' in monaco and hasn't left... it's been three months. face it we're a HOOT

oscarpiastri: they are fun! the secret is to not be annoying sorry george!

maxverstappen1: they grow up so fast :')

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 984,036 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: took a gamble when i went for the lanky posh dude's sister and i can now say it was definitely worth it

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user37: bro says snug as a bug in a rug once and now he's labelled as posh HE'S FROM NORFOLK

user38: it's also the way that y/n never gets the posh allegations

georgerussell63: it's because she's scruffy as fuck x

maxverstappen1: literally outside your house with a knife, keep talking

georgerussell63: i'm a grown man, max, you don't scare me

maxverstappen1: so i'm free to do a little gardening while you hide inside?

georgerussell63: you wouldn't...

yourusername: GO FOR THE PEONIES MAX

georgerussell63: NOT THE PEONIES I BEG HAVE MERCY

user39: so i'm supposed to read all of this shit and take them seriously when they get in the car

user40: it's part of the charm i think

user41: it's all fun and games until you remember they are full grown adults who can vote who are arguing over flowers

yourusername: i'd go through the strenuous task of growing up with george thousands more times just to be with you

maxverstappen1: i've been in love with you since i was 14, there has never been anyone else for me and there will never be anyone else for me

yourusername: ugh why didn't we just get married in vegas ?

maxverstappen1: because even though i did just harm his flowers, i do want to marry you in front of our families

yourusername: i guess you're right

georgerussell63: you know what? based on how you usually talk to me... i'm touched

yourusername: if i'm feeling generous i'll even let you do the seating chart

georgerussell63: I LOVE YOU BEST SISTER EVER

user42: only a declaration of love between max and y/n could end with george proclaiming his love for charts

user43: how does one procure an invite to this wedding ...

yourusername: be cunty

yourusername: @zakbrownceo YOU'RE BARRED

yourusername

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tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: i'm the sibling who can't drive and yet i'm the one with four championship trophies in their house... george, step your pussy up x

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user44: omg queen who can't drive, she's such representation

yourusername: george says i'm so mean all the time but really i'm generous, i clearly gave him all the driving genes

user45: have you even tried driving?

yourusername: i went on max's sim once and got motion sickness and i'm also with the best driver in the world and siblings with an okay one - i'm surviving

alexalbon: he's already texted me about your language on this post

yourusername: just because he's a boomer in a string bean's body does not mean i must censor myself - he should know what stepping his pussy up means by now

georgerussell63: i will not be stepping on any pussy, i respect both felines and women

maxverstappen1: you called caesar 'it' so PLEASE

georgerussell63: i respect women?

maxverstappen1: you called y/n scruffy?

georgerussell63: that's y/n it doesn't count

maxverstappen1: that's not very feminist of you george. i am disappointed

yourusername: i agree, i really think the GDPA should reconsider the type of person they're letting run it

georgerussell63: huh?

yourusername: not once have i been invited to a grid meal ....

georgerussell63: well you're not on the grid that's why

yourusername: FEMALE EXCLUSION

maxverstappen1: you know we have attachment issues, you're so heartless george

georgerussell63: what is going on ???

yourusername: you CLEARLY don't care about me

maxverstappen1: and you CLEARLY don't care about the wellbeing of the grid

georgerussell63: I'M SORRY???

user46: george is unbelievably easy to rattle

user47: it must be so fun

yourusername: oh believe me, we have way too much fun

maxverstappen1: we once convinced him that it was a social faux pas to shake hands in japan lol

georgerussell63: IS THAT WHY MERCEDES WERE TOLD THAT EVERYONE THOUGHT I WAS REALLY RUDE ???

yourusername: LMAOOOOOOOO

maxverstappen1: so so so easy bro

user48: i guess a couple that plays mind tricks together, stay together?

yourusername: 4eva

maxverstappen1: til death do us part

yourusername: quite literally you're not leaving me alone with GEORGE

georgerussell63: you know what: DIE

yourusername: GASP

maxverstappen1: @fia get his ass

fin.

note: HAPPY MAX VERSTAPPEN CHAMPIONSHIP DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE. IE. ME LOL

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru

♡ TW: fear, prank, prank gone too far, dubcon-ish

♡ GN reader

“Haha, ‘Toru—nice try,” is all you say to the tall figure, having stood patiently in wait and perfectly positioned to do a jump scare with his silly store-bought Ghostface mask on.

You sigh and go back to your dealings, and he remains as if the gist isn’t up—ever-committed to the task as if you’re suddenly going to forget that it’s him. Like—of course, it’s him! Despite what the movies will have you believe, not a lot of guys have bodies like that.

If he was really committed to tricking you, he should have worn something baggier to hide his perfectly shredded chest. But no—he’s set on wearing his black muscle shirt—probably opting to make you both scared and horny at the same time.

You carry on with what you’d been doing—cleaning up the kitchen. “Oi, quit standing there already and come help me.”

He doesn’t. But that’s not unlike him—he’ll take any excuse not to do the dishes. And right now, the excuse is this dumb prank. But it’s your fault in any case—you’re the one that put him up to it by saying he’d never be able to get a rise out of you.

You sigh and scold yourself for being so short-sighted—should’ve kept my dumb mouth shut. Knowing him, he’s probably going to be this way all through October, the insufferable prick.

He still stands there. Silent. And still. Eerily unlike him. And almost, just almost, utterly unlike him.

But no—don’t be stupid! He’s the same height and the same build, for fuck’s sake! What are the odds of someone with the exact same measurements as your boyfriend breaking in right at the time he isn’t around in something so cliche and dumb as a Ghostface replica? No, it stinks of Satoru—it’s got his goofy antics written all over it.

You scoff again—a little winded this time, a little strained. You have to hand it to him—he is a little scary when he shuts up for this long.

“You can knock it off, Satoru. I know it’s you.” You face him again, hand on your hip, with a frown. 

You sigh again when he still doesn’t answer, insisting on his stupid tactic of psyching you out. And you’re getting pissed that it’s actually almost working.

“Ugh, you’re so stupid.” You start stomping over—aiming to rip that dumb thing off his head and point your death glare directly in his insufferable blue eyes—those insufferable blue eyes you’re actually starting to hope are under there more than knowing without a doubt are there for sure. 

“Tch—it’s insulting if you think some half-assed performance like this is gonna be enough to scare me. At least have the creativity to come up with something somewhat decent–”

You stop in your tracks halfway over. Hair is peaking out from under the mask. You hadn’t seen it from afar, matted against the black shirt he was wearing—but how could you? How could you when it’s not white hair?

You flinch backward. Stumbling. Assessing the dark, silken locks a second time before looking up at the mask again—that soulless white warped skull with pitch-black bottomless eyesockets.

You take another step back. Breath hitching in your throat when the figure takes a step as well—toward you.

Your heart flares. It’s not Satoru.

Eyes peeled, you feel the panic overthrow you in an instant—like a cold rush, reaching all the way into your bonemarrow, making it hard to move, hard to do much of anything without feeling vulnerable to what it might trigger.

But once the figure pulls his hand out from behind his back, brandishing a butcher’s knife that catches the light and glints in the air—you have no other choice but to run.

What a perfect fucking day to wear fuzzy fucking socks! Fucking October cold is going to be the reason you die—stabbed to death in your own house by some cringey Scream fanboy. No—this can’t be the end—not this way! Why isn’t Satoru home yet? Why can’t he ever be where you need him to be?

You make your way through the house—hoping to reach the door, but turning the corner has you slip and fall, and the intruder’s on you—knife raised, poised prettily in the air above your helpless body, clad in your tiny heart-print pj’s—like the perfect hot airhead in any slasher spoof.

You scream and squeeze your eyes shut, “No! No—please! Please! Satoru, help!”

And right as the knife is supposed to come down and puncture your chest, making it spurt out red until you finally bleed out, dead and gone, there’s a bang instead as two palms land flat on the floor on either side of your head.

Joined by a muffled voice, “Are yah scared yet?”

With your eyes wide open again, you look up at not one mask blocking out the ceiling light but two. And with all the pure alarm savaging your chest, you manage to let out a real horror-movie squeal—unlike a sound you’ve ever made before.

And then, of all things, there’s laughter—no, not laughter—straight cackling.

And—fortunately or unfortunately—you’re quite sure you recognize that sound.

The last one pulls off his mask, and you really can’t believe it—pretty porcelain face squished in amusement with tears of joy in the corner of his insufferable blue eyes.

That fucking bitch.

“You should have seen your face!” he chortles—downright heaves. But for all his handsome features, he truly must be the ugliest laugher there is. Or maybe it’s just that the bastard always laughs at your expense, and after one too many times, it’s left a bad taste in your mouth.

Still, you sigh, eyes closed in relief, “I hate you, ‘Toru. You took it way too far, you ass.”

“No, no, Satoru, help~” he ignores you and mocks in a high-pitched moan, showing not a sign of remorse—holding his hand over his stomach as he falls to the floor, struggling to leave room for breath between hooting and howling.

Your eyes go to the original perpetrator. “And you? You proud or what?”

The wearer pulls off its mask and is revealed to be none other than Satoru’s best friend—Geto.

Honestly, you should have fucking known...

“Sorry, hehe…”

You’re upset—you make that clear with your pout, giving him your best guilt-tripping look from where you rest beneath him.

But still, within, your heart eases at the sight of his kind face and that apologetic smile across it—ever thankful to see him and not the cold-blooded murderer you were convinced was going to kill you only a moment ago—even when pinned beneath him in a position that should be making Satoru jealous.

But your boyfriend couldn’t care less, it seems—too busy rolling on the floor and laughing out loud quite literally, even banging his fist against the wood. Prick.

“I’m gonna throw up–” you say as the nerves finally settle. “And when I’m done, I’m gonna kill you. Both of you.”

Geto seems to think that’s fair, still with that sheepish smile on his face, but Satoru is quick to interject—laughing fit over as he shakes his head, “Nuh-uh. You said if I manage to scare you once this Halloween, I’d get whatever I want.”

You swear he can be such a child sometimes.

Oh, who are you kidding? He’s always a child. It’s only surprising he’s managed to rope Geto into all this—a guy who’s usually so mature.

“I don’t remember saying that…” you sigh, laying the back of your hand atop your forehead, still calming your breaths and the pounding in your head—your body not yet caught up to the fact that it’s trepidation over impending death was all just some silly joke played on you by two idiots.

You can’t believe him—you can’t believe either of them.

“Fucking shit, Geto—I thought I was gonna die.”

He still hasn’t gotten off you—the look of worry on his face tells you he’s probably just wanting to stay close to make you feel safe. You appreciate it, though it’s a little awkward lying beneath him like this—it’s not exactly a position you share with just anyone…

“Honestly, I didn’t think it would work,” he says—eyes slim like always, in that charming way. “I always thought you were smarter than to fall for something this stupid.”

You pull a frown at that—taking it all back. He’s as childish and dumb as Satoru is. He’s just better at hiding it. 

“Oh, shut up—as if you wouldn’t scream if someone chased you down with a knife,” you grumble. “Now get off, you prick.”

You begin to lift yourself onto your elbows, yet despite the clear intention of getting up, Geto doesn’t budge to make it happen.

No, instead, he leans further in—fine-kempt raven hair slipping off his shoulders, falling with the same grace as a veil.

“I was told there’d be a prize for the one that got you to crack, and seeing as I’m the one that made that happen—I want it.”

You have to blink—blanched at the sudden demand.

Satoru, as well, a little stunned—looking wide-eyed at the two of you, upside down where he lies flat on his back, long limbs stretched out like a starfish.

“You what now?” both of you ask in unison.

Geto chuckles before repeating, “My prize. I want it. It’s only fair,” as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Satoru rolls over on his stomach to view you both the right way, pursing his lips in thought. “Hmm…” Hand on his chin as if it’s really something to deliberate when the dumbass very well knows what the two of you had bet on and how it very much isn’t a reward you can give to just anyone.

Yet, despite that. “Okay,” he agrees—as if it’s even up to him.

“Hold on now, wait a minute.” You intervene in the almost business-esque dealing they’d somehow held without you. "Not happening.”

“Why not?” they both ask, looking at you. 

And you can’t keep from gaping. The nerve.

Spluttering as you explain, “Because it’s—well, because it was a bet between me and my dumbass boyfriend, and it was very clear what the prize was gonna be, come winner or loser—so, sorry to break it to you, but there is no prize.”

But that doesn’t seem to deter Geto. “Oh, I think there is…” he all but purrs as he leans down further.

“Satoru already agreed. And you’re already on your back beneath me.”

His smile isn’t all so friendly anymore, and still… you can’t help but blush being caught beneath it, holding your breath with fear a little different from the one before but no different in how it makes your heart pound.

“So, if neither of you mind…" he grins slyly. "I think I’ll just take it.” 

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[whoreforsexymen]

Guess who just finished acrane and is writing this with actual tears on my face!!! I need some Vander fluff- i think i will emplode- it doesnt even have to be anything specific i just need comfort after that shit storm 😭

Yes my child. Mommy will make good on your request.

And don’t even get me started on S2. I can’t bring myself to watch it yet. I’m still not even over S1 and I KNOW for a fact it’s not even as sad as I’ve learned S2 is.

But shhhhh, Mommy’s got you. Here’s the fluff you asked for.

Piltover’s Got Nothin’ On You | Vander Fluff Flash 🍺🤎

(GIF cred: me <3)

Pairings: Vander x GN!Reader

Pronouns: No pronouns used.

Rating: Slight NSFW because Reader and Vander are presumably half naked in bed, so 18+!! MDNI !! You WILL be blocked

Word Count: 524

Summary: Vander is enjoying a nice cozy morning with you, and reminds you exactly how he feels.

Tags: A little spicy, just because it’s a little maturely themed if you whip out a magnifying glass, Fluff, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Domesticity W/ Vander, OoeyGooeyRomance

Notes: None, just enjoy. Take a breather. 🤍

“Would I lie to you?” The question hung in the air, light yet loaded with meaning. It was enough to send a familiar flutter through your stomach, a soft, nervous twinge that made your heart skip. The sensation was strangely uncomfortable, yet in the most endearing way—like a gentle reminder of how much he could still make you feel, even in the simplest of moments.

You lay atop the man you were speaking to, both of you bare-chested, the warmth of your skin pressing together in an effortlessly comforting way. The coolness of the morning air was a distant contrast to the heat between you, a calm presence that made the moment feel serene to say the least. His steady breathing beneath you gave the moment a gentle rhythm, and for a while, there was nothing but the simple unspoken connection between you both before you responded.

“Maybe. Depends.” You tease, your words playful but laced with a hint of mischief.

His response is immediate—his large hand slipping into yours with a quiet sense of contentment, the warmth of his grip grounding you. There’s a comfort in the way he holds you, as if, in this moment, the world outside doesn’t matter. His touch speaks volumes, the unspoken understanding between you both more powerful than anything words could convey.

“Someone clearly thinks highly of me,” he teases back, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. Before you can answer, he leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch tender and full of quiet affection. The sweetness of the gesture catches you off guard, a simple act that somehow feels like the most genuine expression of his feelings—a quiet reminder of how deeply he cares.

You smile, a soft laugh slipping from your lips.

“All I was saying is that, as much as Piltover has its minor flaws—“ you begin, your voice light with amusement as you’re stopped short.

“Appalling flaws, really. Humongous, towering flaws,” he interrupts playfully, his tone teasing as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, still held firmly in his.

You can’t help but laugh at his wit.

“Yes, huge, appalling flaws. But despite all that, Topside is stunning at night. The lights here are beautiful, too, but nothing compares to the glow of Piltover.” You add, trying to make your point clear: a city’s beauty can stand on its own, no matter what darkness might lurk behind the scenes.

He regards you for a long while, his gaze lingering on your face with an amusement that never quite fades. The seconds stretch on, almost too long—what might seem like a few moments in the world’s rhythm becomes an eternity in his eyes. Each shift in your expression, each subtle change in your posture, draws him in, holding his attention as if time itself has slowed. And yet, even as eternity unfolds, it’s still not enough. To him, no amount of time could ever truly capture all he wants to see.

“That may be true,” he says, his voice steady, the smirk never quite leaving his face.

“But Piltover’s got nothin’ on you.”

[xo100]

Hi there!! Could I ask Lando with a singer or a dancer reader?? They are already dating, but haven’t made it officially yet to the public. Lando surprises the reader by attending to the readers tour and fans are going feral about him being there, because it’s a “duo” they didn’t knew they needed. After the show he comes backstage to the reader and they make the relationship public with the pictures of them being backstage or something. Just really sweet and fluffy. Thank you❤️

A surprise in the spotlight - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 781

*:･ﾟ A/N: hey loves! I just wanted to let you know that I have another blog called @norrisxwrites on this blog I will reblog your reblogs. I’ll reblog my posts and other posts! Go check it out if you want posting there soon! Enjoy the fic!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The stadium buzzed with the excitement only a sold-out concert could bring. The energy was palpable, like a living, breathing thing, as fans spilled into their seats with glowing bracelets and homemade signs. This was your tour, the biggest one yet, and it had been months of grueling rehearsals, endless interviews, and nights spent missing the man who’d somehow slipped into your life and turned it upside down.

That man, Lando Norris, Formula 1’s rising star and everyone’s favorite cheeky Brit, was supposed to be halfway across the world, prepping for the next Grand Prix. At least, that’s what he’d told you over FaceTime just two days ago.

But Lando had never been great at following the rules—especially when it came to staying away from you for too long.

-

It wasn’t until the third song of the set that whispers started spreading through the crowd. Something was happening near the back, a ripple of excitement weaving its way forward. The screens overhead briefly panned across the audience, and there he was, seated among the fans in a hoodie and cap pulled low but not low enough to fool anyone.

The stadium erupted.

“Is that Lando Norris?” someone screamed.

“He’s at her concert?” another gasped.

The internet moved faster than the speed of sound. Within moments, Twitter was ablaze with shaky screenshots and wild speculations.

-Are they dating?!- -This is the crossover I didn’t know I needed!- -Lando and Y/N??? MY HEART.-

Onstage, you were mid-chorus, but the sudden roar from the crowd was hard to ignore. Your eyes scanned the sea of people, your heart stuttering when you spotted him. Lando gave a small wave, his smile tugging at the edges of his mouth like he couldn’t quite contain it.

You fought the urge to break character, biting back a grin as you returned your focus to the performance. But your cheeks were warm, and the butterflies in your stomach were undeniable.

-

The show ended with an encore, the crowd’s energy lingering in the air as fans slowly filed out. You darted backstage, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, only to stop short when you saw him leaning casually against the wall near your dressing room.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Lando said, his voice warm and teasing.

You couldn’t help it—you threw yourself into his arms, the scent of his cologne instantly grounding you. He caught you effortlessly, his laughter soft against your hair as he held you close.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your words muffled against his chest.

“Surprising you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Missed you too much. Figured it was time I crashed one of your shows.”

Your heart swelled. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“Only for you.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your waist. “You were incredible out there. I mean, I knew you were good, but seeing you like this…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You’re amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his voice left you momentarily speechless, your cheeks heating under his gaze. “You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Norris. Though I think you’ve caused a bit of a stir.”

Lando smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “Oh, I noticed. Your fans are relentless. Think I saw my name trending on Twitter halfway through the third song.”

“Serves you right,” you teased, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.

-

You didn’t plan to go public with your relationship that night, but when your manager walked in, phone in hand, and said, “We’ve got paparazzi swarming the back exit,” you knew it was inevitable.

Lando squeezed your hand, his touch steadying. “If you’re ready, I am.”

“You mean it?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

He kissed your forehead, and in that moment, everything else faded away. The chaos, the cameras, the noise—it all felt distant, insignificant compared to him.

The two of you walked out together, hand in hand, the backstage photographer snapping candid shots that would be on every gossip site by morning. You didn’t care.

Later, in the car, Lando scrolled through the early posts. He turned his phone to you, showing a picture of the two of you backstage, mid-laugh, your fingers laced together.

“‘The duo we didn’t know we needed,’” he read aloud, chuckling. “Not bad, huh?”

You leaned against his shoulder, your smile soft. “Not bad at all.”

And as the city lights blurred past the windows, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was only the beginning.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

*:･ﾟtags; @spookbusters-jr

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

[astrallytadpoled]

Companion Underwear Tier List

Do you know how hard it was to put this together? Did I at any point think I'd be sitting here overthinking underpants? No. Never. I hope all my teachers are proud of me!

Underwear was assessed based on FOUR criteria: sex appeal, description, bulge/clam protection, and bondage appeal.

Are you ready for the break down? Of course you are.

More under the cut!

First up, Lae'zel.

Sex appeal: That is quite the sexy underwear. It being leather means everything is swampy down there, though. BUT that would be a perk for some of you heathens. 9/10 Description: Built for function rather than fun. What? Have you SEEN that thing? Imagine the wedgies you get trying to fight in it! 6/10 Bulge/clam protection: It covers the most important bits, and it's leather, but enough is uncovered that a direct groin hit would hurt 6/10 Bondage Appeal: Leather? Straps? Tie me up, mommy. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/40, or 78% or C

Shadowheart:

Sex appeal: They're a nicely made matching set of underwear 8/10 Description: If pants could brood… Absolutely fucking hilarious 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Material seems weak, and it doesn't provide good coverage 6/10 Bondage appeal: Pretty generic mildly sexy underwear with a bit of an edge. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 31/50 or 77% or C

Astarion:

Sex appeal: It's Astarion I'd be eaten alive if I don't give this a 10/10 Description: Embroidered into the cloth: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.' Made me laugh out loud irl, so 10/10. Bonus 5 points since he embroidered them himself (effort wins points from me ok) Bulge/clam protection: Look it's cloth. No protection there. And it shows his butt wrinkles (+2 for butt wrinkles) 6/10 Bondage appeal: Generic tighty-not-whities do with them what you will. 6/10 FINAL SCORE: 37/40 or 92% or A

Gale:

Sex appeal: Sorry, Gale. That waist. 7/10 Description: Energy crackles around these. Gale wouldn't… Surely he didn't enchant his… Description? Funny. 10/10. But one has to wonder what sort of enchantment he went for. Prestidigitation? Or some sort of temperature control? A smart man would go for prestidigitation. Extra 7 points for the enchantment. Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth, but he's got good coverage going AND they're magic9/10 Bondage appeal: Who likes shorts? Are shorts bondage-able? 3/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Wyll

Sex appeal: Bonus for cut, but I gotta ding you for the drawstring. Sorry, Wyll. 6/10 Description: Long may these gird the Blade of Frontiers. Yes, yes, we know. You're the Blade of Frontiers. Makes it sound they're his only pair of underpants, too! 5/10 Bulge/clam protection: It's cloth. Do you think Mizora protects his bulge in any way? I doubt it. 3/10 Bondage appeal: They're white underpants. 2/10 FINAL SCORE: 16/40 or 40% or D

Karlach

Sex appeal: It's Karlach, she's by default hot. Look at the cut! The straps! 9/10 Description: How do these not burn off? THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION, GAME, and now I'm wondering too. 9/10 Bulge/clam protection: Coverage is not that great BUT, they can take the heat. They should probably grant some sort of fire immunity or something. Larian, fix this. 8/10 Bondage appeal: They look pretty bondage-y, but also Mama K. 7/10 FINAL SCORE: 33/40 or 82% or B

Halsin

Sex appeal: To be honest it looks like he's wearing something a size too small, Halsin, hun, give your crotch room to breathe. 6/10 Description: Why does it smell like a herb garden? So at least we know he keeps it clean? Unless HE smells like a herb garden… have you considered that? 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Keeping everything close and tight to minimize damage. Genius. 9/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. Halsin provides the vines. 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 35/40 or 87% or B

Jaheira

Sex appeal: The mesh-y vest-y look on the bra, hello? 9/10 Description: Embroidered with little ducks. ….WAIT A MINUTE is that why Halsin likes ducks?! 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Not very protective, but she goes cougar mode anyway (yes I know it's a panther, I just need that joke in there) 8/10 Bondage appeal: They can be worked into bondage easily. But she's got to be in charge. 9/10 FINAL SCORE: 36/40 or 90% or A

Minsc

Sex appeal: It is Minsc 10/10 Description: Tight, aerodynamic, and built for maximum breathability. Humidity is no friend to hamsters. MINSC PLEASE DO NOT PUT HAMSTERS IN YOUR UNDERPANTS. THINK OF LEMMIWINKS 1/10 Bulge/clam protection: No protection, the hamster is a liability 2/10 Bondage appeal: Lemmiwinks 1/10 FINAL SCORE: 14/40 or 35% or F

Minthara

Sex appeal: It is Minthara 15/10 Description: Woven with as much toughened cobweb as cloth. It is an evocative mental image 10/10 Bulge/clam protection: Spidersilk stronk, but coverage could be better 7/10 Bondage appeal: It is Minthara 10/10 FINAL SCORE: 42/40 or 105% or S

[callsign-dexter]

A Father's Heartache

Request: So Idk if your writing for twisters but I keep seeing how Tyler Owen would be if his girlfriend got hurt or something but I was wondering if you write like if his daughter got hurt 

Pairings: Tyler Owens x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, hospitals, tornados

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @hauntedlovecreator

Tyler Owens had been through many hardships, witnessing his first tornado when he was a little boy, many many bull riding accidents and more. However, the most painstaking hardship was losing your mom to an EF5 tornado when you were just 5 years old and almost losing you to an EF5 tornado when you were 17 years old, the age you are now. 

He has two loves, your mom and you, his daughter. Tyler and your mom were high school sweethearts believe it or not. Both of them grew up on ranches and both enjoyed doing farm work and riding horses, which was their main thing to do when they were off of school just to spend time with each other. He was a bull rider and she was a barrel racer. They married quickly, right out of high school. They stuck with each other through thick and thin. She would still barrel race while she went to college and he bull rode until he got his head stomped on one too many times and decided to go to school. They both went to University of Arkansas and studied Meteorology, due to them loving storms, where he didn't finish, she did. They soon created the Tornado Wranglers and quickly became popular on YouTube. 

His second love is you, his daughter. When you came along you were perfect, you looked exactly like him and had his witty personality. You got the love of storm chasing from them both. You were always the calmest when there was a storm going on, falling asleep almost everything. You were a pretty good baby but boy did they start having their hands full when you started to walk and talk. As long as it wasn't lighting you were outside in the storm just admiring it. As you got older the love for storms grew and when you got old enough to travel with the team you did as long as it was during the summer or on breaks. It just so happened to be summer vacation for you so here you were with your dad the crew traveling from Arkansas to Oklahoma. You were in the truck with your dad in the front seat while Boone was in the back with Ben. “So, Y/N, how old were you when you started chasing with your father?” Ben asked as you looked back at him.

“I think I was 4. Right Dad?” You asked your father as you turned to him.

“Yea, that is right. Then a year later an EF5 hit and we lost your mom.” He said 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Ben said 

“It was a long time ago. Still hurts but we never forget about her. Do we?” Tyler asked you.

“Absolutely not.” You said as you touched the necklace that your mom had given you before she passed. 

“Do you enjoy chasing?” Ben asked and you and you smiled and nodded, having turned back to him.

“Oh, I love it! The adrenaline from chasing and seeing one up close is amazing.” You said and Tyler smiled you were so much like him.

“She gets that honestly from Tyler.” Boone said as Tyler leaned over to rub you head and you pulled a face but it was all in playfulness. 

“How much longer until we are in Oklahoma?” You asked him.

“About an hour or so. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we cross state lines.” Your father said and you nodded and got comfortable and closed your eyes and almost instantly you were asleep. When you were little and wouldn’t go to sleep your mom and dad would drive you around in your dad’s truck since it gave a low gentle ‘hum’ and it would instantly put you to sleep, turns out it still can. True to his word your dad was gently waking you up by saying your name and rubbing your arm. “Sweetheart, we just crossed the state line. We’re going to make a stop first.” He said and you nodded. The short drive to the gas station was filled with chatter and getting pumped for the season. As you grew closer you smiled seeing all the cars there and knew what was about to go down. “Ready?” He asked and you smiled.

“Ready, Dad.” You said smiling.

“Turn on the music.” He said and you did and cranked it up Ain’t No Love In Oklahoma by Luke Combs blasted through the speakers as you pulled in and yelling began. Boon was doing the live stream focusing on the crowd and Tyler. You mainly blocked out the conversation as he stopped the truck and got out. You could hear him shout “If you feel it..”

“Chase it!” The crowd replied and he smiled his charming smile that hooked your mother. 

“I said if you feel it..” He said loving the attention and pumping up the crowd.

“Chase it!” The crowd shouted and you smiled, staying out of the way mostly with Dexter, Lilly and Dani. As you stood and watched the crowd and your father you looked around and spotted Storm Par and another woman that was unfamiliar. You had run into Storm Par before and while most team members were unpleasant one was nice and that was Javi. As you looked at them the unfamiliar woman caught your eye and furrowed them out of curiosity and you quickly looked away as your father was calling you over. 

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

Kate couldn't help but stare at the group that just rolled their way in. They really didn't impress her much and they somewhat annoyed her. As they got out and everyone crowded, she stood with Javi as she looked at everyone although one person stood out, you. She thought you looked way too young to be out chasing. “Who are they?” Kate asked Javi.

“That is Tyler Owens and his group from Arkansas they call them the Tornado Wranglers.” Javi said 

“Who is the girl? She seems too young to be out here doing this. It's dangerous.” She asked as she watched Tyler bring you under his arm and kiss you the top of your head. 

“That is Y/N. Y/N Owens.” Javi said

“Sister?” Kate asked 

“No. She would be his daughter.” Javi said “She's really a sweet kid.” He added and Kate was shocked.

“Seems like nobody would be able to settle him down long enough to have a kid.” She said exasperated. 

“She was a chaser too. She was sweet just like her daughter.” Javi said

“Was?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yea, an EF5 rolled through and the Tornado Wranglers and Strom Par were chasing it. It caught the truck and threw it like it was nothing. Everyone came, most of everyone came out unscathed besides her, they rushed her to hospital but it was too late. It wrecked Tyler and the whole team.” Javi said 

“Where was Y/N?” She asked, watching the way Tyler tended to you so carefully and with love.

“She wasn't in the truck with them. I think she was in the RV at the time.” He said and she nodded. 

“How do you know all of this?” She asked 

“She's an old friend of mine. We went to the same elementary and middle school then she moved at the start of high school.” He told her.

“Oh wow.” Kate said and he nodded then he started to ask her which tornado they should go after taking her mind off you and the group.

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

You watched Javi and the woman talk and then she was walking off. You looked up at your dad and saw him watching her, it stung just a bit because he hasn't looked at anyone like that since your mom but he deserved happiness. “I'll be right back, Sweetheart.” He said and kissed your head and walked off towards her direction. You watched them for a bit and watched Ben go over after a few minutes you decided to make yourself busy, really you were just sitting in the truck playing on your phone. 

“Hey, Y/N/N.” Dani said and you looked up not having paid attention to anyone.

“Which one do you think we should chase?” She asked and you got out to look at the map. You studied the sky and then the map. 

“West.” You said just about that time your dad came running up and telling everyone to wrap up. “Which way dad?” You asked, hopping into the front seat. 

“West. She tried to throw us off.” He said and you smiled.

“Damn girl! You got a talent for this.” Dani said as she ran past you and you smiled. Your dad got in the driver's seat as you watched Storm Par rush off.

“Did you call it?” He asked and you looked down smiling shyly.

“I did.” You said

“That's my girl.” He said as he took off. As you were heading towards the tornado Strom Par was coming up and past you so in your typical dad fashion, he cut them off and everyone cheered. Your dad smiled at the woman with Strom Par and then jerked the wheel going off into the field heading towards it “Harness up!” He said as he put his on and then yours. Ben said something but you weren’t paying attention to it as he stopped and sent fireworks up and you looked up at it in amazement. Afterwards you went back to the motel as everyone was outside you stayed in the backseat of the truck laying down the chase having taken the energy out of you. You were asleep in no time. You missed the little spat between your dad and the woman you saw with Storm Par. Throughout the tornado season you were chasing almost every day. You got to see twin tornados and even though you wanted to go after the one Storm Par wanted to go after you let your dad decide and even if it ended up being the wrong choice you still had the adrenaline pumping through you. When the tornado hit the town, you were right there helping. “Y/N/N you stay close to me. I don’t want you to get lost or hurt.” He said.

“Ok, Dad.” You said as you, your dad, and Boone started to help around and find people, things, or pets. Currently you were looking for a dog when your dad looked up and saw the woman coming up. 

“Stay with Boone.” He said and you nodded as he headed off to talk to her. They got pretty loud at some points and you were close enough to hear them. 

“Are you recruiting kids now?” She asked

“That kid is my daughter. She had the choice to stay at home or come along. She chose to come along because she loves chasing just like all of us.” Tyler said getting defensive of you. You chose that moment to walk away and not eavesdrop. After finishing helping out you all went back to the hotel. You and dad got into the hotel room after getting pizza and he turned to look at you. “I’m gonna head to the rodeo. You wanna come?” He asked and you looked up at him.

“No, it’s ok. I’m kind of tired. You should go and ask that woman.” You said smirking.

“Kate. Her name is Kate.” He said and it looked like he was blushing.

“Kate…. You should go and ask Kate.” You said 

“You think so?” He asked

“Oh yes. Take a pizza to her.” You said and he nodded and grabbed it as you shooed him away and out the door. You smiled like an idiot. He was so in love with her. As you were relaxing and watching some TV your phone and then the TV started to go off warning everyone that a tornado had touched down and to take shelter. Your dad had prepped you on everything and the safety of everything. You were quick to take shelter, you were scared and you wanted your dad but you knew you had this. You stayed undercover and when it was over you were coming out just as soon as your dad was coming in and taking you in his arms and hugging you tightly.

“You’re ok.” He said “You’re ok.” He said and you knew he was saying it more for him and not you.

“I’m here, Dad. I’m here.” You said holding him tighter. 

“You’re not leaving my side again. Never.” He said and you nodded. “Come on, we need to go.” He said, “Grab your stuff.” He added and you nodded and did so and then he was ushering you out and into the truck. You regrouped with everyone and while you stayed in the truck your dad was talking to Dexter and then he was getting in as the sun was coming up. 

“Where are we going?” You asked

“You’ll see.” He said and you nodded as he drove. After a few minutes he was pulling up into a driveway.

“Wait… Dad?” You asked

“Yes, we are paying her a visit.” He said and you nodded. He parked the truck and the both of you got out and a woman was coming up and greeting the both of you. She introduced herself as Cathy Carter and she was Kate’s mother. “You mind keeping her busy while I go and talk to Kate?” He asked her.

“Not at all.” She said and smiled and walked off. 

“I’m Y/N.” You said and she smiled. 

“I’m assuming you are his daughter.” She said and you nodded. 

“I am.” You smiled 

“I could tell.” She said “Come on, help me get supper ready.” She said and you nodded and did so. After talking and helping her out she said that she was going to go and get them and you nodded as you set the last bit of food on the table not very long, they were all coming up. 

“Hi.” You said as your father came over and kissed your head and sat down.

“HI, Sweetheart. Kate, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N this is Kate.” Your dad said and she smiled at you.

“It is finally nice to meet you.” She said and you smiled at her.

“Right back at you.” You said and then you all began to eat. Stories were told and laughs were to be had. As the supper ended you stayed behind saying you were going to get some shut eye. You were just about asleep when your father came in. “Dad?” You asked sleepily.

“Hey, Sweetheart. Go back to sleep. We’re leaving early in the morning.” He said and you nodded as you got comfortable. The next morning like he said you were leaving and as you got to the truck first and then he was coming out. He looked upset and that made you upset. He looked up at the upstairs several times and was about to start going but a knock there was a knock on the window and it was Kate. She asked your dad a question and he got excited and then the both of you were getting out of the truck. Everything was explained and then the experimenting started. You loved the thrill of it all and had the biggest smile on your face and after getting it perfect it was time to gather the crew again. Tyler turned and looked at you “Ready?” He asked.

“Born ready.” You said and he smiled.

“That is my girl.” He said and so the chase started. You were in the back with Ben, Boone, and Lily while your dad and Kate were upfront. Storm Par cut you off and you had to laugh. As you were going off towards a tornado you noticed it was getting bigger and bigger it was turning into an EF5. You were following Storm Par when the tornado hit a factory and it turned into a fire tornado. You watched the Storm Par truck get hit and flip yelling was heard and then it was hit again and turned back up it was pointed out that it was heading towards the town. You started off towards the town. When you arrived, the truck was quickly put into park and everyone started to help out and get people to safety. 

As you were helping the sheer strength of the wind was making things blow around and knocked something loose and made it come flying your way. You tried to outrun it but you were unlucky as your leg got stuck “Fuck.” You said as you started to try and lift it off your leg. Your dad heard you and turned to look and his heart plummeted.

“Y/N!” Your dad yelled as he started to try and get it off with the help of Kate.

“Go. Save the others.” You said and he shook his head.

“Not a fucking chance. I’m not losing you like I lost your mom.” He said and continued to try to get it off your leg then Javi came out of nowhere to help and get it off. As you were getting stood up with the help of your dad the water tower came crashing down and water flooded the area pushing you three down. Then you three were heading to the movie theater. “Help the people out in the back!” Your father said over the roar of the tornado and you nodded. You heard him yelling as you watched Kate run out of the theater but you knew what was happening. You bunkered down as the roof and wall started to come off. As you were waiting for the tornado to pass something came loose and you heard it but couldn’t do anything as it hit your head knocking you out. 

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

The tornado passed and everyone was standing up and your father was quick to notice you weren’t there and he began to panic. “Where is Y/N?” He asked and everyone started to look around for you and call out for you.

“I found her!” Javi said as he knelt down beside your unconscious form and your dad was rushing over to you.

“Shit! Sweetheart!” Tyler said kneeling down trying to wake you up but nothing was working and he was panicking. “Go check on Kate!” He hollered and everyone nodded as he stayed with you. He checked your pulse and was glad you still had one. “Come on, Baby. Don’t do this to me.” He pleaded as he started to try and arouse you. He was about to give up hope until he heard you start groaning.

“Dad?” You asked 

“I’m here, Sweetheart.” He said 

“My head.” You whimpered out.

“I know I know.” He said cradling you as you became more aware of your surroundings. “I got you.” He said as he pulled you up into his lap cradled you. Everyone came rushing to you and him.

“You’re ok.” Javi said and you nodded but winced.

“I’m ok.” You said 

“They told me what happened. I was worried about you.” Kate said and you smiled at her.

“Nothing can keep me down. I'm an Owens.” You said and everyone cracked a smiled and chuckled.

“Damn right.” Your dad said as he held you closer. Your dad kissed your head as you were recovering and getting your bearings together. Nothing could keep you down, not even an EF5 tornado. You weren’t going to leave your dad anytime soon, not now and not ever. 

Tag list:

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[goldfades]

★ dancing phantoms on the terrace; are they second-hand embarrassed, that i can't get out of bed? cause something counterfeit's dead; it was legendary; it was momentary; it was unnecessary ─── PB⁵

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6.4k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and paige have always danced around each other—an intricate waltz of unspoken words and fleeting touches, each step pulling you closer to the edge of something you both feared to define. but when your feelings finally bubble over, paige’s silence cuts sharper than anything you could have imagined. in the wake of her denial, you vow to let her go, but it’s hard to sever the bond when she keeps lingering in the corners of your world, drawing you back like gravity. what happens when you can’t be friends, but letting go feels impossible?

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | angst w/ no happy ending. weird fwb, cheating (kinda?), toxic relationships, emotional manipulation, unhealthy attachment, and cycles of miscommunication and unresolved feelings.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | this is lowkey just a word vomit... idk how to feel about it. i've been on an angst kick lately and i'm apologizing for this fic right now, it's EMOTIONALLY DAMAGING. um anyway, don't even ask how i am right now... enjoy?

The gym smells like worn leather and ambition—Paige’s favorite cocktail, if you had to guess. The echo of bouncing basketballs fills the cavernous space, and there she is, effortlessly commanding the court like it’s her birthright. You’d think the sight of her—golden hair slicked back, sharp focus slicing through the room—would dull with time, but it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse.

You don’t mean to stare, but when it’s her, you always do.

“Hey,” her voice cuts through your thoughts, soft but with a rasp that’s always felt like a secret shared just between the two of you. Paige jogs toward you, her smile easy, but her eyes? Complicated. Like she knows. Like she’s always known.

“Hey,” you manage, though your throat feels tight, your body betraying you with a spark of something you’ve tried to douse for months.

She stops just short of you, close enough that you can smell the faint citrus of her shampoo. “Thought you were too busy to come by anymore.”

You shrug, trying to play it cool, but the weight of her gaze makes it impossible. “I’m not staying long. Just… passing through.”

It’s a lie. You’ve never been able to just pass through when it comes to her.

Paige grins, wiping sweat from her brow with the hem of her jersey. It’s a fleeting movement, but it leaves your pulse racing, and you hate yourself for it. She doesn’t notice—or maybe she does, and that’s worse.

“You’re a bad liar,” she says, her tone teasing but gentle. She tilts her head, like she’s reading something written on your face. “You okay?”

It’s such a simple question, but the weight of it threatens to shatter your resolve.

“I’m fine,” you say too quickly. Too sharply.

Her brows knit together, but she doesn’t push. Paige never pushes. It’s you who always falls, silently hoping she’ll be there to catch you.

But you’re tired of hoping.

“I should go,” you mutter, turning before the cracks in your chest start to show. But her hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

“Wait.”

It’s a single word, but it roots you in place, her touch burning like truth against your skin. You turn back to her, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breath and the ache of everything you’ll never say.

And Paige, looking at you like she wants to say it too.

SIX MONTHS AGO

The party was already half a blur when Paige walked in, but her presence made everything snap into focus. You hadn’t been looking for her—you’d told yourself you wouldn’t—but there she was, a magnet pulling every molecule of you in her direction. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion like everyone else, no glittering dresses or expensive heels. Just a hoodie, sneakers, and that disarming grin.

You were nursing a drink, not for the taste, but for the illusion of control. People were scattered across the house in little clusters, and you were tucked into a corner of the living room, balancing somewhere between tipsy and regretfully sober. That is, until Paige caught sight of you.

Her gaze found you through the crowd like it was the easiest thing in the world, and you felt it—really felt it. That invisible thread between the two of you, taut and unyielding.

“Hey, stranger.” Her voice carried over the low hum of music and chatter as she slid into the empty space beside you on the couch.

You laughed softly, but it came out more nervous than amused. “Stranger? I didn’t know you even remembered my name.”

She tilted her head, her grin shifting into something softer. “I remember a lot more than that.”

The comment shouldn’t have sent a shiver down your spine, but it did. Paige had a way of saying things like they were just words when they were anything but.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted, your fingers tightening around the red Solo cup in your hand.

“Yeah, well…” Paige’s eyes dropped to your drink before returning to your face, and it made you feel naked somehow. “Needed a break. Thought I’d find you.”

Thought I’d find you.

The words hung in the air, charged, and you couldn’t tell if she was teasing or telling the truth. Maybe both.

The night blurred after that, the two of you falling into a rhythm that felt far too natural for how often you tried to keep your distance. Drinks were passed back and forth, jokes were made, her laughter melted into yours. Every time her knee brushed yours, your pulse spiked. Every time her fingers lingered on your arm, your stomach flipped.

At one point, someone turned up the music, and people started dancing in the center of the room. You didn’t want to, but Paige grabbed your hand, her touch electrifying. “C’mon,” she coaxed, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous.

You followed, of course.

The two of you didn’t so much dance as sway, caught in your own little bubble amidst the chaos. Her hands found your hips, and she pulled you closer, so close you could smell the faint tang of beer on her breath. The way she looked at you—dark, intent, unflinching—made the air between you too thick to breathe.

“Having fun yet?” she asked, her voice low.

You nodded, though fun wasn’t the word for what you were feeling. It was something else entirely.

“Good,” she murmured, leaning in. Her lips brushed your ear as she spoke, sending a shiver through your entire body. “’Cause you deserve it.”

When you pulled back to meet her gaze, you saw it: the crack in her armor. That small, fleeting look of hesitation before she leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t shy. Paige kissed you like she’d been holding back for years, and maybe she had. Your drink slipped from your hand, forgotten, as your fingers found their way into her hair. The rest of the world vanished, the party, the music, the people. There was only her—her lips, her hands, the heat of her against you.

Somehow, the two of you stumbled your way upstairs, her hand firmly gripping yours as she led you to a bedroom. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly it was just the two of you, no distractions, no pretense.

You shouldn’t have let it happen, but you did. And it wasn’t just the alcohol, wasn’t just the heat of the moment. It was years of longing packed into a single night.

When it was over, you lay tangled together, the glow of the moon casting soft light across her face. Paige was quiet, her fingers drawing absent patterns on your bare shoulder. You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat.

“I can’t do this,” she finally whispered, her voice breaking the fragile silence.

Your chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

She turned to face you, and the conflict in her eyes was enough to make your heart ache. “I’m… I’m trying to focus on basketball. This—us—it’s too much.”

Her words felt like a slap, but the way she looked at you—regretful, hesitant, almost desperate—kept you from walking out right then and there. Instead, you forced a nod. “Okay.”

“But—” she added quickly, her hand finding yours, “this doesn’t have to be it. We can figure something out. Later.”

It was a promise she had no right to make, and deep down, you knew that. But when she kissed you again, softer this time, you let yourself believe it.

That was the beginning of the end.

Paige had a way of engulfing your life without even trying, and the worst part was, you let her. She wasn’t yours—you weren’t hers—but she consumed you, seeped into the quiet corners of your world until there wasn’t a part of you she hadn’t touched.

She made it look so easy, too. Like you were the one complicating things.

Every time you tried to pull away, she’d reel you back in with a text, a glance, a late-night phone call that started with “I was just thinking about you.” It was never enough to feel like a relationship, but it was always just enough to keep you tethered to her.

You told yourself it didn’t matter, that you didn’t need a label, that you could handle the messiness of it all. But then you’d see her with someone else at a party, her arm slung around a teammate’s shoulders, her laughter spilling over like champagne, and it’d feel like your chest was being hollowed out with a dull spoon.

Still, you stayed.

You stayed because of the way she looked at you when no one else was around, like you were the only person in the world who mattered. You stayed because of the fleeting moments when she let her guard down, her fingers lingering on yours a second too long, her voice soft when she whispered your name.

And you stayed because of the promises.

“I just need time,” she’d say, her hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You understand, right?”

And you’d nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, because of course you understood. What else could you do? Tell her no? Walk away? The thought of losing her entirely was worse than the slow, aching heartbreak of being caught in her orbit.

But it was exhausting, being held at arm’s length while she continued to live her life exactly the way she wanted.

There were nights when she’d come over, late and unannounced, her hair still damp from the shower after a long practice. She’d climb into your bed, curling into your side like it was the most natural thing in the world, her hand slipping under your shirt to rest against your stomach.

“I missed you,” she’d murmur, her voice drowsy.

And for those moments, you’d believe her. You’d let yourself believe that she meant it, that maybe this time things would be different.

But the mornings always came.

She’d wake before you, slipping out of your bed as quietly as she’d slipped in. By the time you stirred, she’d be gone, her spot cold, the faint scent of her shampoo lingering on your pillow. She never left a note, never sent a text. You’d see her later that day, laughing with someone else, like the night before had been nothing more than a shared dream.

It wasn’t fair. You knew that. But Paige wasn’t the kind of person who played fair, at least not when it came to this. She played basketball like her life depended on it, with precision and purpose, but with you? She was reckless, careless, and sometimes it felt like she didn’t even realize it.

“You’re overthinking it,” she’d say when you finally mustered the courage to confront her, her tone light, dismissive. “We’re good, aren’t we?”

And every time, you’d cave. You’d tell her what she wanted to hear, because the alternative—calling her out, forcing her to make a choice—felt too dangerous.

So you kept waiting.

For the next stolen moment, the next broken promise, the next time she’d pull you in and push you away all over again.

It was a slow unraveling, and you didn’t know how much more you could take. But as much as you hated yourself for it, you knew one thing for sure:

You’d keep waiting. For her love. For her to choose you. For something you were terrified might never come.

The gym was cavernous, every dribble of the ball echoing like a drumbeat in your skull as you stormed in. You didn’t stop to think. Logic and restraint had abandoned you the second you saw the picture. Paige, her hands on someone else’s waist, her lips pressed to theirs in a way that made your stomach churn.

Her laugh was unmistakable even above the squeak of sneakers and the occasional shout from her teammates. It grated on you now, sharp and mocking. She didn’t see you at first. She was mid-layup, her ponytail flying behind her, the sweat on her brow catching the fluorescent lights. The picture was still fresh on your phone, the brightness of the screen almost taunting you.

You didn’t care who was watching.

“Paige!” you barked, your voice cutting through the gym’s rhythm like a knife.

The ball thudded against the floor, rolling away as she froze mid-turn. The laughter stopped. Heads turned.

Her eyes found yours, widening slightly before narrowing. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face—then something else. Panic? Regret? It didn’t matter.

She jogged over, wiping her hands on her shorts. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

“What am I doing here?” Your laugh was humorless, loud enough for the whole team to hear. “What the hell are you doing, Paige?”

“Let’s talk outside.” Her voice was tight now, her eyes darting toward her teammates, who were whispering among themselves.

You ignored the way she grabbed your arm, the way her fingers pressed a little too hard against your skin as she dragged you toward the double doors. The moment you were outside, the cold air slapping your face, you yanked yourself free.

“I saw the picture,” you snapped.

“What picture?” Her face was the picture of practiced innocence, but her tone was wary.

“Don’t play dumb, Paige. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You were kissing her!”

Her jaw tightened, and her eyes flicked away for just a second—long enough for you to catch it. “It’s not what you think,” she said, her voice measured, like she was trying to calm a storm.

“Not what I think?” You could feel the heat rising in your chest, your hands trembling. “You had your hands all over her. What is there to think, Paige?”

She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

“A bigger deal? Are you serious?” Your voice cracked, the anger spilling over, loud and raw. “You told me—no, you promised me—you weren’t seeing anyone else!”

“I’m not,” she shot back, her own voice rising now. “It was just a stupid kiss, alright? It didn’t mean anything.”

Your laugh was bitter, cutting. “It didn’t mean anything? Do you even hear yourself? You think that makes it better?”

Her frustration boiled over, her hands running through her hair as she paced a tight circle. “You’re acting like we’re in some committed relationship or something!”

The words hit you like a slap, your chest tightening as your breath caught. “So, what? This—us—it’s just nothing to you?”

“I didn’t say that!” she yelled, her voice echoing off the empty hallway. Her eyes blazed as she stepped closer, her finger pointing at you. “But you keep pushing me, and I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I want you to stop messing with my head!” Your voice cracked, raw and thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “You can’t keep pulling me in and then acting like I don’t exist whenever it’s convenient for you, Paige!”

She blinked, the words hitting her harder than you expected. For a moment, the anger on her face faltered, replaced by something softer, something you’d almost call guilt.

But just as quickly, her defenses snapped back into place. “I told you I needed space,” she said, her voice quieter but still edged with steel. “I told you from the start this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“Easy?” You shook your head, a humorless laugh bubbling up. “No, Paige, this isn’t hard—it’s cruel. You’re cruel.”

Her face fell, the anger draining from her expression. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

But the words felt hollow, like a script she’d practiced too many times. Your fists clenched, nails digging into your palms, trying to anchor yourself in something, anything, besides the spiraling frustration.

“Yeah?” Your voice was low, trembling under the weight of restrained fury. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, Paige, but you knew. You knew how I felt—how I feel—and you kissed her anyway.”

Her eyes darted away, lips pressed into a tight line. “I told you this wasn’t... I told you I didn’t want anything serious.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter, the sound bouncing off the cold concrete walls. “No, you didn’t want anything serious, but you didn’t want to let me go either. You wanted me close enough to have whenever you felt like it, but not so close that you had to be accountable for it.”

“That’s not fair,” she snapped, her voice cutting through your words. She squared her shoulders, looking at you like you were the unreasonable one, like this was all spiraling because you couldn’t control your emotions. “You’re acting like I’m the bad guy when you’re the one who stormed into my practice and made a scene.”

“A scene?” Your voice rose, the sharp edge of disbelief slicing through the tension. “You kissed someone else, Paige. What the hell am I supposed to do? Just sit at home, pretend it didn’t happen, and wait for you to toss me a few scraps of affection when it’s convenient?”

“That’s not what this is!” she shouted, the crack in her voice betraying her frustration. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, alright? I didn’t plan it! God, why can’t you just trust me?”

“Trust you?” The words tore from you, laced with incredulity. “How the hell am I supposed to trust you when you do things like this and then try to make me feel crazy for reacting?”

“I’m not making you feel crazy!” she fired back, but the flicker of guilt in her eyes betrayed her. She stepped closer, her hands gesturing wildly as if she could will you to calm down. “I just... I didn’t think this would turn into... into this.”

“This?” Your voice broke, the vulnerability slipping through the cracks in your anger. “Paige, I let you have all of me. You knew that, and you’re acting like I’m the one who crossed a line.”

Her face softened for a split second, and you saw the Paige you thought you knew, the one who made you laugh so hard you cried, the one who looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the room.

But then she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I didn’t ask for this to get so complicated,” she muttered, almost to herself.

“Complicated?” The word fell from your lips like venom. “You made it complicated. You wanted me enough to keep me on a leash, but not enough to—”

“Stop,” she cut you off, her voice sharp. “Just stop. You’re spiraling, and you’re putting all of this on me like you don’t have a choice in any of it.”

The sheer audacity of her words made your chest tighten, heat flooding your face. “A choice? Paige, I chose you. I keep choosing you, even when it hurts.”

For a moment, you thought she might say something—an apology, an admission, anything to make this feel less like a freefall. Instead, she just stepped closer, her voice softening. “You’re overthinking this. You always do.”

Your body went rigid, the casual dismissal slicing through you like a blade. “Don’t do that,” you warned, your voice trembling. “Don’t make this about me being too much.”

“I’m not,” she said quickly, her tone too smooth, too rehearsed. “I’m just saying... maybe we’re both a little out of line here.”

“Out of line?” You scoffed, the hurt morphing back into anger, fueling the fire between you. “You kissed someone else, and I’m out of line for calling you out on it?”

Her jaw clenched, her shoulders squaring as her frustration boiled over. “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I’ll never do it again? Because I can’t promise that, alright? I can’t promise to be someone I’m not!”

The admission knocked the wind out of you, the raw honesty of it cutting deeper than any excuse ever could. You stared at her, your heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.

And then, without thinking, you grabbed her face and kissed her.

It wasn’t soft or tender—it was a collision of lips and teeth, anger and desperation crashing together in a way that felt like drowning and breathing at the same time.

She didn’t hesitate. Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer, her frustration melting into something else entirely. For a moment, the world disappeared—the hurt, the anger, the confusion—and all that was left was her, her lips moving against yours like she was trying to prove something, to take back control.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads pressed together.

“This doesn’t fix anything,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Her lips brushed yours again, softer this time, almost apologetic. “I know,” she murmured.

But it didn’t stop her, or you, from letting it happen again. And again. And again.

This was the beginning of a vicious style. Paige would do something — something reckless or selfish or dismissive, something that cracked the fragile balance you were barely holding together. You would crash out, spinning into anger or heartbreak or desperation. Then, when the storm was at its peak, you’d collide in a mess of kisses and tangled limbs, pretending the hurt didn’t exist. And for a little while, it would work.

Rinse, repeat.

It was like a drug. The highs were euphoric — the way she’d whisper your name in the dark, the way her hands knew the map of your body like they’d been there a thousand lifetimes. But the lows were brutal. Paige wasn’t just in your life; she engulfed it. Even when she wasn’t physically there, she was everywhere — in your thoughts, in your chest, in the hollow ache that came from wanting more than she would ever give.

And yet, every time you told yourself this was the last time, she’d reel you back in.

It was always the same. She’d make promises she couldn’t keep. I’ll do better. I’ll be better. I don’t want to lose you. They were just words, fragile and insubstantial, but you clung to them like a lifeline. Because even if Paige didn’t love you the way you needed her to, she made you feel.

But feelings weren’t enough. Not when the cycle kept repeating, each round leaving you a little more frayed, a little less whole.

Looking back, you didn’t see it at first. How could you? In those early days, it all still felt new, like you were learning each other in ways no one else ever had. The tension, the passion, even the arguments — it all felt alive.

But what you didn’t know then was that this wasn’t building toward something better. It wasn’t growth or healing or progress. It was just a loop, and the more you gave, the more it took.

And it all started here — in a practice gym with her teammates staring after you, with a kiss that should have been an apology but felt more like a warning.

This was how it was going to be. You just didn’t know it yet.

It was over long before she said it. That was the truth you’d been carrying for weeks, maybe even months, like a stone in your chest. The late nights tangled together, the whispered promises that never quite landed, the explosive fights that burned hot and fast — they were all just delaying the inevitable.

Paige didn’t love you. Not the way you loved her.

And even though you’d told yourself a hundred times that you’d walk away first, that you’d save yourself the heartbreak, there was a part of you that had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for her to finally say the words so you wouldn’t have to.

When she said them, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair messy and her lips still swollen from the argument-turned-kiss that had just played out like a broken record. Her voice was quiet, careful, like she thought if she said it gently enough, it wouldn’t hurt.

“I think we should just stay friends.”

Friends. As if that word hadn’t already been stretched beyond recognition between the two of you.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t yell. You didn’t say anything at all. You just nodded, a single dip of your head that felt like letting go of a thousand unspoken words.

Because by then, you were too tired to argue. Too numb to care. You’d given everything you had to Paige Bueckers — your heart, your time, your trust. And in the end, she’d left you with nothing but empty promises and the ache of what could have been.

She watched you, her expression unreadable, maybe expecting a reaction. But there was nothing left to give. No anger, no tears, not even the kind of hope that had once kept you tethered to her.

And that’s when you knew.

It had been over long before it was over.

The first few days after Paige walked away, you told yourself you were fine. Numbness had a way of masquerading as strength, and for a brief, fleeting moment, you believed it. You went about your routine mechanically, ignoring the ghost of her laugh that seemed to echo in every corner of your mind, or the phantom sensation of her fingertips trailing down your skin.

But it didn’t last.

The cracks began to show in the quiet moments, the ones you couldn’t fill with distractions. You’d see her everywhere — not in person, but in the lingering memories that clung to every inch of your life. The way she used to leave her hoodie draped over your chair. The playlist she made you that now sat like a ticking time bomb on your phone. Even the way the air smelled after it rained reminded you of her, of those late-night walks when the world felt small and it was just the two of you against everything.

Now, it was just you.

The nights were the worst. That was when the realization hit hardest, settling in your chest like a lead weight. She wasn’t coming back. And not only that, she seemed fine. Perfectly fine without you.

Social media became your own personal form of torture. Paige smiling with her teammates, Paige at practice, Paige at a party with her arm slung casually around someone else’s shoulders. She looked radiant, unbothered. And why wouldn’t she be? You were the one left unraveling, trying to pick up the pieces of something that had already been broken long before it officially ended.

You tried to bury yourself in distractions, in work, in friends, in anything that could occupy the space she used to fill. But nothing worked. Everywhere you turned, there she was, in your mind, in your heart, like she had embedded herself into the very fabric of your being.

The worst part was the silence. Paige hadn’t reached out — not once. Not to check on you, not to see if you were okay, not even to pretend that she cared. She had moved on seamlessly, like you were just a chapter she had finished reading. But you? You were stuck. Stuck rereading the same lines over and over, trying to figure out where it all went so wrong.

You hated her for it. And you hated yourself more for still wanting her, for craving the sound of her voice even when it was the last thing you should want to hear.

Sleep became elusive. You’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying every argument, every kiss, every unspoken promise. Your mind refused to let go, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end. But deep down, you knew better. Paige had already moved on. And she wasn’t coming back.

It was a cruel kind of clarity, realizing how little you seemed to matter to her now. While you were drowning, she was breathing just fine.

And so, you began to sink. Not all at once, but slowly, steadily, as the days turned into weeks and the weight of her absence pressed down on you. You stopped checking your phone, stopped looking at her social media, stopped pretending you were okay. Because you weren’t. You were a mess, and she was gone, and there was no fixing what had been broken.

For the first time, you understood what it meant to lose yourself in someone. Paige had taken pieces of you when she left, pieces you weren’t sure you’d ever get back. And as much as you hated it, as much as you hated her for making you feel this way, you couldn’t deny the truth.

You still loved her. And that was the hardest part of all.

The first time you saw the picture, it felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. Paige stood there, her arm draped casually over a girl you didn’t recognize, her smile so effortlessly carefree it made your stomach churn. It wasn’t just the picture—it was what it represented.

She wasn’t hiding anymore.

For months, you had clung to the idea that Paige’s reluctance to be with you had been about timing, about her career, about her focus on basketball. You’d told yourself over and over that it wasn’t about you—that she wasn’t ready for anything, not just you. But seeing her like this, so at ease, so perfectly content in someone else’s arms, shattered that illusion into a thousand irreparable pieces.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t ready. She just didn’t want you.

The realization hit you harder than any of the fights, any of the cold silences, any of the times she had pushed you away only to pull you back in. This was different. This was final. And it sent you crashing in a way you hadn’t thought possible.

The next few days passed in a haze. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat, to sleep, to function like a normal person. Every time you closed your eyes, the image of her with that girl played on a loop in your mind. Her hand resting on her shoulder. The easy grin that you used to think was just for you. The sickening thought that this new girl got the version of Paige you’d always wanted but could never have.

Your friends tried to help. They texted, called, even showed up at your apartment uninvited, but nothing seemed to pull you out of the spiral. You were stuck, trapped in the memories of what could have been, haunted by the ghost of what never was.

And Paige? She was fine. She was more than fine. While you were unraveling, she was out there, living her life like nothing had happened, like you had never happened.

It wasn’t fair.

You replayed every moment in your head, dissecting every word, every touch, every promise she had made and broken. You thought about the nights she’d held you, the mornings when she’d whispered things you now realized she didn’t mean. You thought about the times she’d called you "important," like that word was supposed to mean something, like it was enough to keep you tethered to her while she gave you nothing in return.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. Not just at Paige, but at yourself. How had you let it get this far? How had you let her take so much of you, only to leave you with nothing?

But even as the anger simmered beneath the surface, it couldn’t erase the pain. Because no matter how much she hurt you, no matter how many times she let you down, a part of you still wanted her. You hated yourself for it, but it was the truth.

She was the love of your life—or at least, that’s what you had convinced yourself. And now, as you watched her move on so effortlessly, it felt like you had lost not just her, but a part of yourself.

You thought about the nights you’d spent together, the dreams you’d secretly dared to have, the way she had made you feel like the center of her universe, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You thought about the way she’d look at you sometimes, like you were the only person in the room, and you wondered if she ever looked at her new girlfriend like that.

The jealousy burned, but it was nothing compared to the ache of knowing you weren’t enough.

And that was the hardest part. Not the fights, not the breakups, not even seeing her with someone else. The hardest part was realizing that no matter how much you loved her, it was never going to be enough. She was gone, and she wasn’t coming back.

But you still saw her everywhere. In the songs that played on the radio. In the basketball games you couldn’t bring yourself to watch anymore. In the small, stupid things that reminded you of her—like the way she used to steal the last piece of pizza or the way she’d hum under her breath when she thought no one was listening.

You wanted to hate her, to erase her from your mind and move on with your life. But how could you hate the person who had been your everything, even if only for a little while?

So you sat with the pain, let it wash over you like a tidal wave, drowning in the memories of a love that had never really been yours. And for the first time, you let yourself admit the truth: Paige had been the loss of your life. And no amount of time, no amount of distance, was ever going to change that.

PRESENT

You’re standing there, caught in the pull of her gaze, the space between you both charged with unspoken words. It feels like you’ve been here a thousand times before, standing on the edge, your heart teetering between wanting to stay and knowing you should walk away.

Paige’s hand still grips your wrist, and the simple touch feels like a tether. A lifeline. But you know better than to think it’s something more. She’s always been like this—holding on just enough to make you feel wanted, but never enough to pull you all the way in.

“Are you really fine?” she asks, her voice lower now, softer, like she’s trying to break through your walls. Her thumb moves in slow, deliberate circles against your skin, and for a brief moment, you feel the weight of the last few months—how everything has spiraled, how much you've tried to hold it all together.

You want to scream, to ask her why it’s always been this way, why she makes you feel like you’re the one losing the fight when you never even had a chance to begin with. But instead, you swallow it all down, pushing the rawness deep inside, out of sight.

“I’m fine,” you repeat, and this time, it sounds almost like a plea. A hope that if you say it enough, you’ll start to believe it.

Paige doesn’t let go. She studies your face like she’s looking for something—some crack in the surface that would make everything make sense.

You hate how easily she does it. How she makes you feel like you could fall apart right here, and she’d still somehow be the one holding it all together.

But she’s not the one holding the pieces anymore.

“Don’t do that,” Paige says, her voice a little rougher now, her grip tightening just slightly. “Don’t close off from me. We’ve never been good at that.”

You can’t help the bitter laugh that escapes you. “We’ve never been good at anything,” you snap, but the words feel too raw, too real for this moment.

She flinches, just barely, but you see it. You see the way her shoulders tense, the way her jaw clenches. It’s a reaction you’re so used to by now—the shift in her, the way she pulls back whenever you push too hard, whenever you force her to confront the mess between you two.

But this time, there’s something else in her eyes. Something you can’t quite place. Maybe it’s guilt, or maybe it’s regret. But it’s there, lurking beneath the surface, and it stirs something in you.

“I didn’t mean that,” you add quickly, your voice softer now, almost apologetic. But the damage is already done. The walls between you, the ones you’ve spent months building and reinforcing, are beginning to crumble.

Paige shakes her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “You never do.”

You don’t know what to say to that. The truth is, you’ve always known. You’ve always known that Paige was never going to be the one who could fix this. Fix you.

“I’m sorry,” she says after a beat, and the words hang in the air between you like a promise you both know she can’t keep.

It’s the same thing she’s always said. The same thing she said when she left. The same thing she said when she came back. And each time, it meant less and less.

You swallow hard, blinking away the sting in your eyes. “It’s fine,” you whisper, but the words feel hollow. Because it isn’t fine. It never will be.

Paige looks like she’s about to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she leans in, her lips brushing against your cheek in a fleeting, soft kiss.

It’s nothing. It’s everything.

And just like that, everything falls back into place, if only for a moment. She pulls away, her hand still around your wrist, keeping you there, keeping you close—but not close enough.

You don’t know what’s worse: the way she makes you feel like you’re everything she’s ever wanted, or the way she makes you feel like you were never really a part of her at all.

You look into her eyes one last time, and for a moment, you see something there—something that makes you think maybe, just maybe, she feels it too.

But before you can get lost in it, she’s already pulling back, walking away. And you’re left standing there, once again, at the edge of it all.

The gym feels cold now. The bouncing basketballs echo through the space like the rhythm of your own heartbeat—distant, unsteady, and out of sync with everything else.

And in that moment, you realize something.

You’re never going to be okay with this. Not really.

But you’ll keep pretending, even if she has a girlfriend. Even if you've "moved on". Because that’s all you know how to do.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹 ౨ৎ

itoshi rin x reader. 2k wc. ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ reader wears a skirt ﾉ mentions of an injury + a little blood

you aren’t one to believe in silly superlatives, but the last few months have helped you understand why itoshi rin is regarded as the most unapproachable student on campus.

he works alone and during the moments when he’s required to collaborate, the man is incredibly blunt. outside of class, you rarely see him accompanied by anyone other than his team and even then he never seems thrilled to be around them. the aloof expression he constantly wears only solidifies everyone’s perception of him—everyone’s but yours.

you’re a firm believer that people are more than they let on and rin is no different. beneath his frigid exterior, there’s something more. at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the last several weeks. if you weren’t convinced, how else would you explain your efforts of getting close to him?

you’re on a mission, one to see if you can chip away, thaw, the icy exterior that encases itoshi rin.

“rin!” you shout, but your call doesn’t elicit any sort of response—he doesn’t pause, doesn’t turn his head, just keeps walking as though your voice is nothing more than a gust of wind. his disregard fails to deter you as you pick up your pace to catch up with rin’s long strides. it takes a bit but when you finally do, you smile and link your arm with his. you look up at him before asking, “hey, didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

“i did. i was just ignoring you.” his teal eyes finally spare you a short glance before he’s shaking you off, pulling his arm out of your hold and stuffing his hand in the pocket of his long, beige coat. it’s you again, he thinks.

you remind him of something—a gnat, that’s it. small and bothersome but easy to swat away. though, just like them, you always seem to make your way back. he’s grown used to your repeated appearances, even if he finds them slightly inconvenient.

“this is why you don’t have any friends, you know.” you sigh, the stream of air that leaves your mouth visible as a foggy cloud in front of you. you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re so cold.”

he’s silent in response to your statement and you expected as much. still, you send him a smile and continue talking. “i’m willing to look past that, though. what are you doing now?”

“going home.” rin hopes his answer is enough to dispel whatever thought is brewing in your head.

“perfect! so you’re free.” he turns to you with a frown. what part of “going home” gave you the impression that he had nothing else to do? “wanna go get sushi? it’s on campus so we wouldn’t have to go far.”

“no thanks.” he looks away to finalize his answer.

“aw, come on, rin.” if you’re going to get anywhere, you can’t keep letting him brush you off. “it doesn’t have to be sushi,” you try to bargain, but he doesn’t budge, only continues toward his destination.

maybe you should just drop it, try again another time, but your body has other ideas. you take a few quick steps forward so you’re standing in front of rin. you’re walking partially backward as your next words come out. “we can get whatever you w-”

the ground beneath your feet doesn’t feel as stable as it did a moment ago, it’s slippery now, enough to make you lose your balance. you slide forward on a patch of ice before the concrete is back under you. the bottoms of your shoes catch on the roughness of the ground, launching your forward. your knees and the heels of your palms skim the sidewalk, drawing a pained gasp from your lungs.

“shit, are you okay?” rin’s voice cuts through the air, and it’s closer than it was when you were upright. you turn your head to find his face right beside yours. his eyes are zoned in on your hands and you swear you can see a glint of concern pass over them.

“i’m fine,” you tell him, sitting back on your knees and painting on a smile to cover up the pain. you shake your hands at the wrist but the cool air only bites at your open wounds. “it just stings a little.”

you’re a lousy liar, rin thinks. did you think he wouldn’t notice the breath of air you sucked in just now? blue-green irises scan over your hands and knees. the fall was enough to tear your tights and break the skin. there’s blood slowly pooling from the surface of each scratch.

“come on,” rin sighs, straightening up and shrugging his coat off his shoulders. you stare up at him with lips parted in confusion. he jerks his head in a silent gesture for you to stand up.

“where are we going?” you ask, carefully boosting yourself up from off the ground.

“to my apartment.” he glances at your outfit before holding out his coat to you. “put this on.”

you want to ask him why but you figure your constant questioning will put him off. you keep your lips sealed as you accept his coat, slinging it over your much thinner zip-up. your eyes dart back to where he’s standing—or where he was standing. he’s not there anymore but it only takes a tilt of your head to find him. he’s bent at the knee in front of you and his arm reaches over his shoulder to pat his back. “get on.”

your eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and triumph. the gesture itself catches you off guard—before now, it was hard to ever picture rin being so… helpful, chivalrous. on the other hand, this is the first of what you hope becomes many wins in your pursuit of melting away what you think is his frosty façade.

a quiet laugh pushes past your lips as you bend down to wrap your arms around rin’s neck. he hooks his hands under your knees, a low grunt rumbling in his chest as he rises up from his position.

you can’t help but think it would be a lot colder if you weren’t wearing rin’s coat. maybe you should have taken a look at the weather before you decided to put a skirt on this morning. it’s only then that it strikes you—he didn’t give you the jacket to keep you warm, he gave it to you to keep you covered. if the length of the outerwear wasn’t draped over your legs, this piggyback ride would be a lot more compromising.

your cheeks and the tips of your ears are flaming hot compared to the nip of the cold air. you aren’t sure if you’re flustered because of the close call or the fact that rin was attentive and considerate enough to protect your decency. he’s a lot more thoughtful than he puts on.

despite your fall being entirely unintentional, you have to say, the timing couldn’t have been better. the walk to rin’s apartment isn’t far at all and if you hadn’t found a way to stop him, you wouldn’t have gotten through to him today.

with you still on his back, rin fishes out his keys from his pocket, sticking one into the keyhole and twisting until a click signals that the front door is unlocked. you can’t see far into the apartment over his shoulder, but the kitchen and the little glimpse of the living room are exactly what you expected—neat. there are no dirty dishes littered about the counters and the blanket hanging over the back of the couch is tidily folded.

the bathroom is directly to the right of the entrance and rin nudges the door open with his foot to allow the both of you in. he kneels in front of the toilet, setting you down on the closed lid. you survey the scratches on your palms as rin washes his hands and grabs the first-aid kit he keeps under the sink. he kneels down in front of you to start treating the scrapes on your knees.

the process is a silent one, rin’s focus solely on cleaning your wounds. the silence makes you want to squirm but the thought of being reprimanded by rin keeps you glued to your spot. his presence is always overwhelming but much less so when it’s accompanied by conversation. so, you speak, “this is your fault, you know.”

he stills for a split second before continuing, but you don’t miss the way his eyebrows knit together. “how is you slipping my fault?”

you bite your lip to hold back a laugh. the empty statement was merely a poor attempt at filling the silence, but you’re beginning to think that you can use this to your advantage. “i was just trying to be nice and invite you out. if you agreed to lunch with me, this all would have been avoidable.”

rin clicks his tongue. he knows what you’re doing; you’re trying to guilt trip him, make him feel bad. and he does, he recognizes—but not for the reasons you think. he’s never been particularly benevolent but something drove him to act today, something he can’t quite put his finger on. all he can say for sure is that he wouldn’t be doing this for just anyone.

“don’t worry, though.” your voice brings rin back to reality from his thoughts. his teal gaze lands on your face and you smile. it’s pretty, the thinks, but there’s a gleam in your eyes that isn’t as sweet. “i know how you can make it up to me.”

“am i not doing that now?” he asks as he finishes bandaging your second knee.

you ignore his question, holding your palms up at rin’s nod toward them. “i’ll forgive you if you take me up on my offer. going out for lunch, i mean.”

a gnat. persistent and pesky.

“what makes you think i want your forgiveness?” his words, the bluntness of them, starkly contrasts his touch. the lithe finger applying antibiotic ointment to your torn skin is gentle, tender even.

“maybe you don’t,” you hum curiously. you were sure he would have given in by now but his resolve was starting to seem unbreakable. there’s one strategy you have left, one you were hoping you wouldn’t have to turn to. although, you suppose you could always go back on your word. and rin didn’t have to know that.

you clear your throat resolutely in hopes that your next statement comes out smoothly. “i’ll leave you alone if you humor me this once.”

rin almost snorts. he highly doubts that will be the case with your track record and all. despite his skepticism, he doesn’t immediately jump to rejecting you and the lack of a prompt “no” surprises you both.

rin sticks the last square band-aid to your hand while he contemplates your proposal. something about this unplanned interaction has surfaced unfamiliar feelings from the depths of his heart. he still doesn’t understand why he decided to lend you a helping hand, but he figures there must have been a reason—one that he’ll come closer to finding out if he swallows his pride and agrees to your outing.

“fine.” he sits back on his heels, letting his hands rest on his thighs.

you blink at the one-word answer. “fine?”

“that’s what i said.” rin stands up from his place on the floor and starts toward the door. he looks over his shoulder to see you still seated. “come on before i change my mind.”

it would be dumb of you to miss this opportunity—the one that you had sacrificed your physical well-being and a pair of cute tights for—all because you’re awestruck. so you quickly stand and scurry over to rin with a satisfied grin.

you can feel him tense beside you when you loop your arm through his once more. “i knew you’d warm up to me.”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[robo-writing]

helloooo

I’ve recently gotten into call of duty and I make a humble request 🕺

could I have a ghost x afab!reader who’s usually innocent and stuff, but tries to seduce him or something? Take your time!! I love your work

I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to people saying they love my writing 🥹

His squadmates check up on him occasionally—especially Soap, nosey as he is. For everything that they've gone through together they practically know nothing about Simon, and he likes it this way. Not to say that he doesn't trust them, but because Simon's a solitary creature, nothing more. However, it's surprising to the entire team when he off-handedly mentions that he's picked up a new hobby recently—bird-watching.

Immediately questions are fired off, but much to everyone's annoyance Simon only smiles as he takes another swig of beer. They almost suspect him of lying; he's not. His favorite past-time is making his way to his local haunt—9:00 pm sharp, every Friday—all to watch the pretty little bird behind the bar. He hasn’t missed a day, a regular customer every week for the past three months.

He likes the atmosphere, he likes how no one seems to ask questions about the 6’4 beast that orders his whiskey neat and sits alone in the corner—even more than that, he likes how you greet him with a smile every time he walks through the door.

Adorable really, how you fly about the bar, chirping out orders at the speed of light. More than once he’s had the opportunity to talk to you, and more than once have you averted your eyes from him, made yourself busy in hopes that you could hide the obvious attraction written on your face.

It never works, but he likes that about you.

He likes how you stumble over your words, how you meekly offer him a refill once his glass is empty, how your face lights up when he purposely lets his fingers touch your own when you set down a new glass. It's easy to let his mind wander knowing how easily riled up you are, and let it wander he does. Sensitive little birdy, he thinks to himself. Wonder how you'd react if his fingers were stroking your clit instead.

His pretty little birdie, shy little thing you are. So shy that you can’t bring yourself to express your little crush with words, but it’s alright—he knows—and he's willing to play this game for as long as you want it to go on. He's a patient man. It's February now, and it seems as if you're ready for this game to end. Among the red streamers and paper hearts that decorate the bar is you, and the cute red set you're so excited to show him. "I got the boss to sign off on it, see?" You ramble excitedly, stepping away for a single moment to show off your low-cut top and jeans to match. "Isn't it so cute?" He's the only one that gets this special treatment, the sight of you doing a 360 almost enough to make him reach across the bar. "Mhm," he agrees, far too engrossed in the shape of your ass than the color of your outfit. "Y'look amazing birdie." You bow your head in embarrassment at the nickname, unable to see how Simon's lips curl upward in response. "How am I supposed to react when you say things like that..." "It's a compliment. I don't say shit I don't mean." Again, you feel your face heat up at the implication, surprising yourself with a sudden burst of confidence. "You really mean that, don't you?" "I do. You think I don't?" "I think you're a flirt," you reply, the timbre of his voice sending shivers up your spine when he answers— "I'd be more than happy to prove just how honest I am, birdie." The look he sends you is nothing short of a promise, eyes boring into your own as he takes a sip. He knows, and you're willing to guess that he's known for a while based how how quick he is to laugh at your befuddled expression. "That's—I mean—" He sets his glass down slowly, tilting his head towards you. "Am I reading something wrong here?" You stumble over your words, barely muttering out a meek little "no" under your breath as he leans in close, enough to smell the liquor on his breath. "So, if I ain't wrong, feel free to meet me in the back after closing. I'd hate for you to think I'm a liar." Hours later, he found the answer to the question of how you'd react with his fingers against your clit—turns out you're even more sensitive than he imagined.

[cryptic--writing]

Hiya 👋🏻

It’s not really a kinktober request, but maybe you’ll consider doing it? No pressure though))

Ajaf era James, where he was drinking a lot. He understands that that affects him and turns him into a monster. He’s afraid he’s going to hurt reader, but he can’t break up with her for her safety, he loves her too much. So he comes up with stupid plan of making her break up with him because of his behavior? So he starts to undermine her efforts, e.g. the meals she cooks “could have been better”; makes fun of her simple 9-5 job , saying that’s she lucky she can have a relaxed job cause he’s earning most of the money and covering the bills. Although she’s hurt, she is staying as she loves him and thinks it’s the alcohol talking. James, realizing his plan doesn’t work, makes the final move: after they have sex one evening, he tells her that groupies do a much better job. That’s too much for her to take so she leaves him.

Unfortunately, after break up he feels even worse. Lars is worried so he interrogates him, and drunken James confesses. So Lars finds reader and locks her in the studio with James for them to reconcile (can we have smut here)?

Few weeks later when they start recording black album, James plays her a song (which will become nothing else matters), saying that it’s his way of telling everyone how much she means to him?

I’m sorry I can’t write short asks 🥲🥲🥹🥹

You are a great writer so I really hope this will become a story 🙏🏻

hihi!

and omg its here. took me 9 days to write it lmao but yeah

i cant explain how much I loved this idea pls marry me annon

also ~~~ means POV change (yes there is James and reader pov)

this fic has legit everything so I hope y'all enjoy it bc I busted my ass on it

some parts may be confusing idk

anyways

word count: 10623

warnings: mentions of achohol/drugs, death is mentioned, toxic relationship, break up, angst, smut, fluff, I'm prob forgetting smth

OR SO I THOUGHT (1989)

It had been a rough couple months with James. I felt determined to help him with his only worsening alcoholism, though he only continued to shut me out. I could feel the guilt when he was around, but it didn't make him stop. I tried, I really did, encouraging him to talk to me, to help me help him. 

It was the same sad scene every night. James would come home, probably around midnight, and I couldn't sleep without him next to me, so I was up, all those hours, wondering as I tossed and turned as to where he might be. All I knew is I was in for a scary time when he got back, but I eventually grew tough skin to deal with this.  Understood that this wasn't safe for me, or him, and I stressed that so, so much to him, but James never understood. Well, he never told me he did. Maybe there was more going on in his heart I never knew about. But, of course, I could never discover as he would always close himself off so much.

It was another day where the cycle would repeat. I woke up at three am to the sound of James stumbling in, mumbling something under his breath before he plopped down on the bed beside me, and I knew well enough to hold my tongue, to not provoke him. I pretended I was asleep, which he believed, trying, or at least I think he was trying, to snuggly up next to me, but he had his back to me. His arms weren't around me. Maybe that's all I yearn for now, to be loved and held.

Once I could finally go back to sleep, I was awoken not much later by the sound of my blaring alarm. It was seven am, time to get ready for work. James is a heavy sleeper, he never woke up from my alarms, though I always rushed to turn them off, just in case they would wake him. Slipping out of bed with a groan, I observed his sprawled out body, his shoes still on. I'm glad he made it to the bed this night, as others he would end up on the couch, or in his car, or somewhere I had no idea of.

I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, like a mother caring for her ill son on a school day. I slipped off his shoes, trying to get him more comfortable. I scurried towards the closet to grab my work clothes for the day before getting changed in the bathroom and rummaging through our medicine cabinet, finding some pain killers and then getting him a cold glass of water, leaving the items on our bedside table. I paused to watch over him as he slept, his slow, steady breaths that rose and fell from his chest. I loved him too much to change this lifestyle. I loved every part of him, and if this was part of him, then so be it. I'll help him get better. He loves every part of me, no matter what, right?

Or so I thought.

I slipped on my heels, walking into our messy kitchen, the sink filled with unwashed dishes James was supposed to do. But, he isn't well, so I must do them for him. After washing the dishes, I brewed coffee, poured myself a cup and left some for him and began to make breakfast. James had been off lately, different to how he already was off, but that slowly became part of our normal, so one new change did not stick out too much, but this one did. I don't know what it is. He just felt… lifeless, cold, I guess. I decided to make one of his favorite breakfast meals, a nice, warm and fluffy stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon, cooked just the way he liked it. I spent extra time trying to make it the best I had. I knew they would probably be cold by the time he woke up, but hopefully he'd appreciate my effort. I ate some eggs before scrambling for a notepad, getting a pen to write him a sweet good morning note, explaining I was at work, when I'd be home, how much I loved him, and where the other meds were if he needed them. I wrote these notes almost daily, but this one I made longer and more love filled. I figured he would want my love.

Or so I thought.

I came home around six pm, the evening traffic being worse than usual. Instead of seeing James' car out of the driveway and the house dark, he was still home. The soft sound of the TV buzzing was easy to hear as I unlocked the door, walking in to see him on the couch, leaning against the couch arm and holding his head up with his hand. He was too engrossed in whatever he was watching to nice me walk in, so I tried to have him notice my presence.

“Im back, Jamie,” I said softly to not startle him, my voice filled with love as I moved to sit next to him, he looked over at me, like a confused puppy. “How are you feeling?” I asked, gently stroking his back, though he moved from my touch.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, I'm fine. Busy right now, yeah?” He mumbled as a response as he resumed watching TV once more, brushing me off with his simple, cold words. I knew I had to respect his space and not probe at him, so I just nodded with a sigh and got up, slipping off my shoes and setting my bags down,

“Are you hungry?” I asked, digging through the fridge to get things to make dinner. He didn't answer. “James, are you hungry? I can make dinner,” I offered again, noticing the cleared plate that I had made him for breakfast, the note missing. I assumed he threw it away, just like the others. I never saw them in the trash cans, but after everything piles up, you can just assume. I heard James sigh from the couch, “Uh, yeah, sure, whatever. Breakfast was cold, so I threw most of it away anyways,” He admitted, and I felt a small ache in my heart. I thought he liked the dish since there was none left on his plate, but clearly he proved me different. Why I even put effort in these things, I don't know. THats a lie, I do. I love him, and want him to know it, to feel it. I should’ve been doing this as part of my own insecurities, but to make sure he knows I'm there for him, always.

I thought of what to make for dinner, seeing if he had eaten anything since breakfast, only finding empty beer bottles and a half eaten bag of chips. It was probably only the alcohol making him act like this. I decided to make steak with potatoes, something he normally liked and said I made pretty well. It was easy to make, and I know it was one of his favorites I made him, but normally I would wait for a bigger step in life, like celebrating something about the band, or something in my career, but I knew he deserved it still.

I finished after 45 minutes, preparing the plate to be gorgeous, something I wish I could hear from his lips for once. But, he loved me. I know he thinks I'm gorgeous, he wouldn't have to tell me. Right?

“Jamie, the food's ready, I made steak,” I said warmly with a smile, setting a dinner table for us. I didn't get a response, just a grunt as he stood from the couch and walked his near empty bottle of beer, finishing it off and grabbing another from the fridge. I sat at the table, waiting for him to come and join me. His eyes landed on the plate, pulling out the chair to sit down. I couldn't read his emotions, he didn't look too happy, but he didn't look mad. He just looked.. plain. James grabbed his fork and began to eat, the metal scraping against the porcelain plate, waiting for his nod of approval. It never came. He didn't talk, but not in a way like he was mad. He just didn't speak. But he didn't need to, he didn't need to say the things I knew already. I took a breath and began to eat, and it might've been one of the best I had cooked in awhile. Perfect tenderness, juiciness, seasoning, and cooked perfectly, something you could get at a restaurant, now in our home. 

“What do you think, baby? I think it's pretty good, no?” I inquired, seeking the validation I craved from him. He just shrugged.

“It's fine, I guess. It could've been better.”

It shouldn't have hurt. It really shouldn't. He just didn't like the dinner I cooked. The dinner I poured my time into. The dinner I made was special. Special for him. But, what did I know? I doubt he meant it. That's why it definitely shouldn't have hurt. He was drinking. ITs just the alcohol making him act like this. He would never say something like that to me. Why did tears prick at my eyes. Why did it actually hurt?

“Oh, uhm…. I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, do you want me to make you something else..?” I choked out, fighting back my tears.

“No, don't waste your time making something mediocre, yeah?” James insisted, insulting me bitterly once again.

I took a shaky breath, another sting to my heart. Hes. Drunk. This can't be what he means, right?

Or so I thought.

“Alright, uh, do you wanna cuddle on the couch..? We can watch anything you want? Or not watch anything, just sit together.” I offered again, pleading to get love from my partner.

“I was probably gonna go to bed. You mind cleaning up?” He pushed me away again, and every word stung. I want him to see me, to notice me, just to love me. But I reminded myself again and again, he's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it. I'm just being sensitive and pathetic. Maybe it's just my hormones.

I nodded, forcing a smile, “Sure, yeah, go ahead and  go to bed, I'll clean up and join you in a bit, ok?” I informed him and he just nodded and got up, walking to the bedroom, still carrying his battle with him. My eyes stung, and once he was out of sight, I felt tears streak my face, but I continued to fight them away. I quickly got up to clear James’ and my own plate, then  cleaning the kitchen, washing everything with great care to keep it tidy.

I came into the bedroom, James half asleep under the sheets. His hair was astray as he slept near the edge, his limbs tight together. The now empty beer bottle sat on the nightstand, another reminder of James’ habits. I glanced around before getting changed into my sleep clothes, a nice little night dress James had gotten me for Valentines Day earlier that year. It was nice and pink with some fluffy pieces at the bottom and lace dancing across it. It flowed nicely and hugged my body in the right places, going down to a bit above my knees. It had some other pieces, like stockings and a garter. In reality, it was more so lingerie than a bed set. But, it was one of James’ favorites for me to wear. Maybe this would make him open up more, or just show me the love I'm craving. I crawled in beside him, though I doubt he noticed the weight accompanying him, trying to cuddle closer, pressing myself against his back.

“Jamie?” I asked softly, kissing the back of his head.

“Hm.” James answered in a sleepy tone, barely aware of my presence.

“You doing ok? You've been acting differently…” I kept a quiet tone, my hands gently running down his arms and back as I pondered on what may be hurting him so much.

He took a deep and large breath, sighing, “Yeah, I'm fine… why do you ask..?” James mumbled in response.

“Nothing, you just seem off, I guess,” I rushed out. I didn't want to upset him, but he just seemed so soft and sweet, something I hadn't seen from him awhile.

“Oh, well, alright then… love you..” He mumbled out, slowly succumbing to sleep after saying the words I knew were true.

Or so I thought.

The office today was exhausting. Absurdly exhausting. And infuriating. A stuck up and snotty boss whos full of himself ordering me around to do his mundane dirty work, my co workers giving me side glances of judgment for my more rushed than normal appearance, not having as much time this morning as I had to help James with yet another hangover, getting him to the bathroom in time before he painted our bed green in vomit, making him some foods to keep him comfortable and having to buy more pain killers, my 3rd trip this month, all before heading to work. All I wanted was to come home, sleep, relax, and be held by the love of my life. 

As simple as an office job 9-5 may seem, how it is not. No one else wants to do their own work, always needing some kind of assistance, and of course, I none the wiser, agree to help them.

It was another late evening with heavy traffic, not allowing me to come home until seven, again. I had stopped at the market, grabbing food and other supplies we were running low on. And more beer. 

The door to the house was locked, something that had been happening more and more as I came home, only growing worries on James' worsening habits, the idea of drugs coming to mind, but I tried to shake it from my head, just wanting a nice time at home. 

I unlocked the door, the house quiet except for the soft strum of a guitar in James’ mini studio, which was just an extra bedroom we had turned into a spot for him to store his instruments and for his practeing. We hoped one day for it to become a nursery, a room for our future child.

I followed the music, the half open door allowing me to peek at James, hunched over one of his explorers, fiddling with the strings as he danced around the fretboard with his talented fingers. I smiled at the sweet sight, slowly entering the room.

“Whatcha working on?” I asked, announcing my arrival home. James looked up at me, at first a smile on his face, but he quickly dropped it. His actions only confused me further.

“Uhm, not much, just… a couple riffs and stuff for the new album..” He answered, still picking at the strings with something unreadable in his eyes.

I nodded, smiling at him, “It sounds good, I'm excited to hear it,” I responded before speaking again, “Work was so exhausting today, I don't know how I put up with it anymore,” I said with a laughy sigh, trying to lighten the statement.

James just shrugged. “I mean, I don't really see how a nine to five can really be that tiring,” He disputed, but his tone sounded unsure, shaky like how it did when we first met. But there was a force, an anger of some kind.

I was even more lost with his shift in attitude, “Well, what do you mean? You don't work one, you wouldn't know,” I argued back with more aggression than I meant.

“Yeah, I don't work one. Your job is light and relaxing feather work compared to the shit I do. You are out doing twelve hours a day for months on end at a studio, being out for a year just to tour and shit, you don't make anything working that job, I'm the one paying the bills with my money.” James spat, cold and bitter. His words rung in my ears, repeating each syllable like a painful stab. My brain scrambled for reasons to understand his reaction and response to my complaint of work.

James' piercing blue eyes still starred up and me, my mouth agape in shock. Why would he act like this? He loved me. He just told me he did the other week before we went to bed. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. What is wrong in his life that I don't know about, that he wont tell me about.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that might explain this behavior of his. Truly, anything that would help explain such a swift and sudden change in his mood, but deep down ZI knew, I was just looking for bottles, cans, cups, glasses, anything that would contain the fizzy and bitter liquid he loved. The only thing I could find was a half empty bottle, freshly opened next to the chair he sat in. That's it, that's why he's acting like this. He's just drunk. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it.

Or so I thought.

Even with my new found reasoning, his words still hurt a great amount, the pain struggling to leave. A simple insult, just telling me how I don't work as hard as him, that my job isn't as crucial as his. I took a breath, trying to control and reign in my emotions before I could meltdown in front of him for such a stupid reason. Drunken words, not filled or backed by any true thoughts. Right?

But they do say drunk words are sober thoughts.

“I- well,” I tried to speak, but I couldn't come up with the words. What would I say? I didn't want to make him any more upset than he seemed to be, but I didn't want to submit to him so easily, especially after such disrespect. But I knew better. I don't lash out, I keep him happy. We will work this out together, we have to.

“I'm just gonna go to bed,” I muttered under my breath, fighting back tears that needed to spill out, James rude comments only adding fuel to the fire that had been burning in me all day. Not a fire of anger, passion or desire, but a fire of hurt. Once I shut the bedroom door behind me silently, I broke. The bottle shattered, and my tears overflowed my face, covering my mouth as I cried, trying to calm myself down as I got ready for bed at such an early hour, even forgetting to make James something for dinner.

It was my day off, a relaxing Saturday I could use to have some me time, as James was gonna be out with the band all day as the brainstormed for the new album, which was still taking its baby steps into production, nowhere near any concept for songs yet. At Least that I knew of. 

James had been really tense this week, and I had tried everything to get him to relax and cheer up. Taking him out to his favorite restaurants after I came home, making him home cooked meals, getting him gifts and all things. Though there was one thing I hadn't tried. Sex.

I spent all day dolling myself up, wanting to be as bare and beautiful as possible for James. I shaved everywhere, leaving not a single trace of hair anywhere except for my head,, of course. I scrubbed every nook and cranny of my body, putting on James’ favorite set we bought together, doing my makeup just the way he liked it, lighting the candles he got for my birthday, and dousing myself in his favorite perfume I owned. All the lights were out, except for the lowlights of the candles in the bedroom. I laid on the mattress, waiting for James to come home, hoping this would finally get him to unwind from his stress.

I heard James’ keys jingle in the door, and I could feel myself getting more and more excited for his arrival. This would be one of the few times I would have him sober, as when they worked on material they rarely drank or did anything crazy, thankfully. His shoes thudded on the wooden floors, a sigh escaping his lips as I heard him slowly walk towards the bedroom.

“Are you home?” He called out to me before approaching the bedroom door, taking in the sight of me and the room I had spent the evening preparing for this moment.

“Hey baby,” I mused with a smirk, looking up at him with loving eyes. His eyes met mine, looking warm for the first time in awhile.

“What's all this for?” He asked,  still taking in the well decorated bedroom and my sexy form.

“Wanted to help you relax… you've been so stressed,” I replied, grabbing his hand to try and bring him closer, to get into the bed with me.

It didn't take much more conniving, and James had given in pretty quickly to my offer. He was being more loud than normal, probably because we hadn't had the chance to be intimate like this in awhile. I loved this so much. Well, I loved being close to James again. He wasn't hitting the right spots or focussing on pleasuring me much, but that's fine, he's the one who needed to relax anyways, and I have enough time on my hands if I wanted to please myself, I guess. It didn't take long for him to come, pulling out and painting himself on my abdomen and my breath labored, coming down from…. Well, not an orgasm, but being close to one. James was beat after that, and I don't blame him for that. He had been so busy recently, I was happy we just got to share a moment like this together again. 

I laid close to him under the sheets as we both recovered, James already half asleep. I had his hand in mine, kissing each knuckle of his and more, pouting all of my love into that moment. I looked up, having felt James’ eyes on me for a while. I met his blues, and there was a slight guilt in them, a gestation and regret. But, it didn't last long as he blinked it all away, taking another breath. 

“How are you feeling now? Did it make it any better?” I asked, my voice heavy with sleep as I lazily continued to press kisses to his hand.

“I mean, yeah, I guess… It wasn't like, amazing though… I've had better, normally the groupies can do a bit more than that, y’know?” James said cooly, acting as if the words he just said didn't mean anything and had no weight to them.

“What?” Was all I could muster out, the tears already filling my eyes as I tried to process all of this.

“You heard me, the groupies normally do better.” 

The words came so normally from his mouth, as if he was just telling me the date and time. But no, he was comparing me to prostitutes, previous women he has slept with. I began to cry, not just out of hurt and sadness, but this time anger. How could he say something like that to me?

And then the worst part hit.

He was sober.

Something I would've wanted more than anything else just a few days ago is now what is causing this experience to be even worse than it is with the horrible comparison and insults James had spewn at me. He meant it. Alcohol was toying with his brain, making him into the aggravated man I had grown to know quite well over the years.

“Are… are you serious? After everything? I put myself through hell to deal with this, to go to work, to do EVERYTHING for you! I have tried so hard James. And Yet you still compare me to them?! Sluts with prices on their heads?!” I cried, anger and hurt filling the fire in my eyes, and I could swear I saw Jamw\es’ cold attitude falter for just a moment. Maybe it was what I was hoping for, that it was all an act, that he truly did love me deep down, but maybe he didn't. Maybe this is the truth I had been hiding from all these months.

James didn't res;ond, just sighing with a shrug.

That's what pushed me over the edge.

“Are you fucki ng serious? You're not even gonna try and fight for this? Get out of here! We're done. Since you don't appreciate anything I do for you nowadays, I don't want you in here anymore. Pack your shit and leave.” I cursed at him as I continued to sob, processing the moments that passed, feeling as if the earth was slowing, each second hitting me hard and heavy.

I could see a slight guilt in James’ eyes, and as much I wanted to believe it was true, I couldn't give it in myself to do that anymore. I couldn't keep living this lie. He nodded, staying silent as I cried, slipping on his clothes and grabbing some things he'd need for the night.

“I loved you because you loved me, or so I thought you loved me, truly you don't give a shit!” I called out again, hearing James breath hitch at my harsh words, but he just left. No goodbye, the final words spoken to us only filled with hate and hurt, though millions went unspoken.

— —- — —> A FEW MONTHS LATER…

Not a lot has happened since I broke up with James, but a lot has changed. Maybe for the better. I miss him terribly, but a lot of weight is off of my shoulders now. I'm no longer worrying about having to make elaborate meals for him, or to do everything in my power to make him happy as [possible, watching my words at all times to make sure I wont say anything that might upset him. It was a large change. The house is still cold like how it was with him, but its a different kind of cold. There is no warmth of another body. Its quiet, no more TV static and laughter or guitar. Work had only gotten more tiring, but I had recently gotten promoted, something I had wanted for a long, long time.

I haven't spoken to James since we broke up. I know he had come by the next day, as when he left that night he only took clothes to last him the night, and when I came home from work, all of his belongings were gone, and his spare key was left on the counter, all of his music gear out of the house, leaving me a now empty room, not to house his guitars, and no longer holding the hopes and dreams of a future child.

Or so I thought all of his stuff was gone.

I came home after work, the house dark and silent, turning on the lights before going into the former music room, which had now become my office for the time being, as I needed one for the promotion, to be able to have a comfortable spot where I could do other work tasks from home. I set down my purse, sitting in my computer chair and sliding off my heels. I saw something in the corner of my eye, something that somehow had never caught my eye all these months. 

An ashtray, repurposed to hold James’ many guitar picks. It was behind a lamp that was in the corner of the room on an end table. There was more than just guitar pics, but one of his rings. Like the ones he always wore on stage, the cool reflective metal that shone brightly under the spotlight. I paused, only having gotten one heel off, so confused as to how I never noticed. I sat in this same chair, facing the same direction, taking my heels off the same each day. I quickly got the other off before walking towards the table, picking up the ashtray, having remnants of cigarette butts and ash, some of which covered the pics. There had to be at least 20 of those pics, I don't know how James could forget such a thing, along with one of his more favorite rings. He wore it when we met, but I never made the connection as to that being the reason he left it. I missed him, yes, but having these almost made it worse. Like the world was teasing me that he is gone, that I won't be able to be held by him again, because he doesnt love me anymore. How I still love him, I don't know. Part of me still wants to believe he never meant any of it, but the chances of that being true is slim now. But, I didn't have the heart to call him, to return them to him. He would have come to get them by now, right? 

I picked up the cold metal, holding it in my hand before slipping it on my ring finger. It was too large, slipping off quite easily. I tried the next, my middle finger, and it fit well enough to not fall off. It felt so wrong to wear, but it made me feel closer to him. I hated it, but I loved it. A little piece of him to be with me always. ‘God, I sound like a wife mourning her husband who died in a war.’ Was all I could think to myself, setting back down the ash tray and taking off the ring before sitting back down in my office chair, trying to shake my head of the matter so I could focus on the important task at hand, work.

I spent about two hours on the assignment before finishing it among other things, now exhausted even further. I stumbled towards the bedroom, changing into my pajama pants and a sleep shirt. Since the break up, I have refused to wear or even look at the clothes sJames had bought me. I didn't feel any desire to wear those things now that I knew he would be the one to see me in them. I never really wanted to wear clothes like that, but knowing he liked it made me like it. Now that he's gone, so is that enjoyment. I layed down on the mattress, sinking down as it swallowed me and the day whole. I had gotten used to the loneliness of sleeping alone, even after having a body next to me for the last four years. Maybe it was an easier adjustment as towards the end it was like sleeping next to no one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few months are hard to describe. I can't explain it, I really can't. I've never been more lonely in my life, drowning all of my sorrows in the bitter bottles that wasted away each night and day. I've tried putting my energy elsewhere, focusing more on the band than I was earlier, trying to pour my emotions into guitar and lyrics, but nothing works. Nothing matches what I once had. What I threw away. What I ruined. Though, all my life, through all my struggles, there was one thing I learned.

Mask your emotions, hide your turmoil. It's something I had quickly gotten good at from a young age.

Or so I thought.

I went out for drinks with Lars to discuss lyrics and other parts of music for the record, as we normally had for our other productions and everything. We had another few weeks before we went into the studio, where we planned to record for many months, wanting this release to be the best we ever had. 

Before I had even gone out to the bar with Lars, I had already had a few bars at home, or what I had tried to make into my home. It was a home, yeah, but it didn't feel homey. There was no warmth or touch to it to make it seem whimsical or joyful. I know I have a problem, but what is there I can do. 

When I got there, Lars’s car was already outside, and I knew I was late by thirty minutes, having to build up the motivation to leave the house for a reason other than food, so trying to get up and socialize and talk about important stuff was not on my top choices to do.

I trudged in, my eyes darting around for the Danish, who was never that hard to find. And as I expected, I found him somewhat quickly, taking a seat next to him and ordering a drink for myself.

“Hey man, where the fock have you been? Been waiting here ages for ya,” Lars commented with his laugh, sipping on his own drink.

I just shrugged, “Sorry man, there was just…” I tried to think of a reasonable excuse, but none could come to mind. “Traffic, y’know, it gets bad around five or six, all those people getting off of work,” I explained, thinking I was an expert at this facade.

“Alright, whatever you say. Let's get to work now, yeah?” Lars tried to believe me, but it was clear he knew there was something more to what I said. 

I just nodded, “Yeah,” I answered, and Lars took out his notepad where he already had some ideas for songs. The mask was as strong as stone, no way to see in.

Or so I thought.

 Lars looked back to me, a thought popping back in his mind, “Traffic? There's normally not much in this area, I mean before you moved out of that place, shit, traffic was bad, but here? No way,” Lars questioned me, no longer believing a word I had said. 

“Well, I guess it was just different today…” I muttered, “Let's just start now, leave it be,”. Lars agreed reluctantly, and soon we were sharing ideas sas I jotted down lyrics, Lars taking turns as we debated on the new project.

Of course, as we worked, we were drinking. Me more than him, and it was getting me tipsy, and then drunk. Normally we wouldn't get drunk during lyric writing, just a bit.. Wobbly, I guess. We were just reviewing the lyrics for the third song we were jotting up and I had ordered another drink.

“Jesus man, you only focused on drinking? We got shit to do!” Lars complained to me, and I just shrugged. “Sorry, got my priorities here…” I joked, and Lars only gave a pity laugh.

“Is something up? You've been acting weird as hell for the last few months. We barely see you anymore, and when we do, you're late.” He informed me firmly, clearly not wanting to put up with my demeanor much longer.

“I'm fine, didn't I already tell you that?” I responded, and at this point I just wanted to go home. “Well, you can tell me it a million fuckin’ times and that doesnyt mean Ill believe you,” He rebuttled, and I sighed. “So, what's up with you?”

I didn't want to answer, well sober me would've deflected. But drunk me? He doesn't have much of a filter. Who does when they're drunk anyways?

“Nothings up with me, just dealing with shit…” I answered, taking another sip of my drink.

“Ok, well dealing with what?” 

“The breakup, and everything,” I answered, my eyes avoiding Lars’s own.

“Ohh, yeah, I see. What happened anyways? You never went into detail, just saying she kicked you out in the middle of the night. The fuck did you do to her?” He laughed, but the sting of the memories still remained.

“I.. well, I told her she was a shit cook, lazy, didnt work as hard me, and that groupies fuck better,” I admitted. Lars' face changed from a small smile to a look of shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah”

“What would make you say something like that?! That's totally messed up!” I knew this would be shocking, especially coming from me to say something like that. But I didn't expect him to be this shocked.

“No, I did it for a reason, I'm not just some asshole! I didn't want to break up with her, and I didnt want her to break up with me, but I knew I had to get her to break up with me. I keep drinking, and it makes me into… I don't know, I'm a different person and I don't want to hurt her. The only option was to force her to break up with me.” I tried to explain, but Lars was quick to respond.

“Only option?! Have you heard of rehab? Getting help? Did she just let you waste away?”

“I didn't want to go to rehab either, and no, she did try to help, but I don't want help…” It was getting embarrassing at this point, showing how weak I had become.

“James, not everything is about what you want! There's things you need to do, but you don't want to. Those are just as important.” He paused, hoping my worlds would process through me as he thought of an idea. “How about this, clean up your act a bit and I'll get her back over here and you can go back to paradise, alright?” Lars offered and I perked up a bit.

“How the hell do you expect her to come back to me after all of that?”

“I never said she'd come back to you, I said I can get her over here, make you guys talk or something.” He corrected me, and I just rolled my eyes.

“Well how are you gonna get her to come here? She probably hates me at this point,” 

“I have my ways, we were closer friends than you probably remember,” Lars’ words didn't help. He could never explain his plan, and that's what always ticked me off about him.

“Fine, whatever, work your midget magic or something,” I muttered under my breath.

“What did you just say to me?” 

“Nothing, nothing, just do whatever it is, alright?” 

“Fine.”

— — — — > A WEEK LATER…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time moves slow these days. But not in a bad way, it was nice that life was hitting the breaks a bit instead of the pedal. Though, that joy wouldn't last long.

I sat in my office chair at work, working on some papers my boss had handed me a few minutes ago. He was giving me stack after stack after stack of papers today, all coming with my promotion I got a bit back. More money means more work, and more work means more money, so I guess it isn't all too bad in the long run. I glanced up from my paper, eyeing the now double repurposed ashtray, one being made for the intents of cigarette butts, then guitar pics, and now it held my keys and some other trinkets, including one singular guitar pic of James, one of his favorites. 

I was startled out of my thoughts by hearing the office phone ring, quickly reaching to grab it, assuming it was a customer call.

“Hi, this is Capital Advisors, how can I help you?” I offered in a cheery tone, but the voice I heard response was not what I had expected.

“Hey man, look, it's Lars, something happened to James, you mind heading down to the studio?”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Sure, Lars and I were close, but we haven't talked much since James and I’s break up. My words caught in my throat, processing the second half. “Something happened to James? What happened? Is he ok?” Even though he proved himself worthy of a break up, I still couldn't shake my love and worry for him.

“Uhhhh, yeah, no, sure he's fine, but you just needa come to the studio?” Lars rambled, not sure how to keep up his lie.

“Ok, yeah, of course, when do I need to be there?” My mind was racing, Lars wasn't being direct with what happened, so my mind could only think of the worst. He always poland things off to make them not seem as bad as they were. What if James fell and hurt himself? Overdosed on something? Only darker thoughts hit my mind.

“Like, now, this can't wait,” Lars demanded, and I had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, I will be there as soon as I can, ok? Tell him I’ll be there soon, I don't want him to worry,” I gave in and then Lars thanked me and hung up. 

Now I don't know what to do. My boss wasn't the type of person to just let me leave whenever I want, and I had already promised to Lars I would be there immediately. Though, my worries got the best of me and I quickly began to gather my stuff together. I grabbed my keys and my purse, quickly heading to my boss's office. 

I always hated going in here, it was freezing since the AC was always blasted, and it reeked of musty air freshener. I gently knocked on the door before I heard his baritone voice respond, telling me to come in. I entered, seeing him sitting there, filing papers. 

“Can I help you?” He said in a monotone voice, opening and shutting cabinets.

“Yes, I need to leave, like right now. ITs an emergency, family matter,” I tried to briefly explain, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a new response.

“Emergency? Of what? Is someone dying?” His eyes looked up from his papers, meeting mine as he waited for an answer.

“I… Well, I don't know,” I muttered, and it was true, I really didn't. With Lars’ vagueness, I tru;y didn't have a reason to not assume James was already on his deathbed.

“How can you not know?” He questioned me as if I was stupid, then noticing my pale and shaky look of true worry, “Fine, yes, you can go, but you're leaving three hours early. I want you working those hours back tomorrow. Understood?” He finally made an offer, and I quickly accepted without hesitation.

“Yes, thank you, and I'm sorry,” I responded with a smile and a nod, quickly leaving the office and getting to my car as fast as possible. Lars never specified where exactly the studio was, but I had been there a few times with James to hear them practice and record. I did my best to remember the way there, speeding in some places and having to make a couple U turns to figure out the exact spot. The whole time my head was buzzing, I could not think of one normal reason as to why James would want me there. He clearly didn’t like me much towards the end, even though I still like to think he never meant it and that it was only the alcohol talking, but I was probably wrong. Why did I still care so much after being so wrongfully disrespected? Part of me still loved him. Still wanted to wake up next to him every morning, hear the faint strumming of a guitar whenever I came home from work. Now those days were gone, and never looked like they would return. I still worried for the worst for James, endless horrid possibilities arising in my brain, all trying to piece the puzzle together.

When I finally pulled up, I saw two other cars out in front, not seeing James’ car, assuming Lars gave him a ride and KIrk giving Jason one. No cop cars or ambulances or fire trucks, so he isn't dying, or maybe they already left. Maybe I was too late? 

I quickly got out of the car, almost running to the studio door, knocking until Lars came and opened it for me.

“Hey! There you are, took ya long eno-” Lars was quickly cut off by my own anxieties.

“Where is he? Is he ok? Was I not fast enough?” I quickly voiced out, my eyes darting around the inside and searching for him.

“Yeah, relax. He's fine. He's inside-”

“If he's fine then why did you make me come here from work?! I thought he was dying or something crazy,” I cut him off, questioning his efforts.

“No, none of that, you worry too much. He just wants to talk with you,” Lars answered, and my previous worries and a new suspicion grew in me.

“Just want to talk? Last time I talked with him he was critiquing me! He hates me! He doesn't want anything to do with me!” I voiced the feelings that had been clawing at me for months, never having anyone to tell them to.

“Or so you think. Look, just talk to him, that's all this is, ok?” Lars grew tired of my attitude and clearly I would have to give in soon.

“I want to, I want to talk to him, but I doubt he wants to talk to me,” I responded, trying to further explain my hesitations.

“I just told you that he wants to talk to you! Go in there, please!” Lars pleaded with me, and I sighed, finally agreeing.

“Ok, ok, I will,” I answered, beginning to head into the studio.

“Thank you! He's just down the hall, in that room with the sound equipment and everything,” Lars informed me, and I followed him, seeing James hunched over a table, scribbling down on a piece of paper. My heart was racing now. I hadn't seen him since that night. I didn't know what I would say to him, I was worried what he would say to me.

Then he looked up at me.

His cold, piercing blue eyes, a newfound softness in them as our eyes met. I avoided his eyes, but felt his lingering on me. Lars guided me in, shutting the door behind himself, leaving us alone. I was unsure of what to say, my eyes lingering on the floor, hearing James set down his pen.

“Uh… hi…” He started, probably just as unsure as I was.

“Hi,” I responded back shyly, avoiding his gaze, though I could still feel his own on me. The sound of footsteps approached me, instantly recognizing them as James’, and then I heard a click. Lars had locked us in here, now forced to talk.

“I.. I'm sorry, I really am,” He mumbled, and I looked up at him, seeing a true guilt in his eyes, “I wish I didn't do it, that I didn't say those things, that I didn't make you hurt so much like that… I should’ve been much more, well, mature about it. I feel like shit for everything,” James explained to me, but this only caused me to have more and more questions.  

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice still a hushed whisper as a wave of various emotions crashed down on me. “I had reasons for what I did, I just wish I went about it differently. I wish I had listened to you when you had offered me help. I didn't want to hurt you with my habits, and I couldn't break up with you, I didn't want to be the one to do that, so… so I tried to make you break up with me, and you did. Everything I said, it was a lie. I never meant it. You're a great cook, you work hard, you're just… you're amazing, you're too good for me.” James confessed, and I could feel a bit of the cold melt away, though still a hurt in my heart.

“Then why make me come and tell me all of this? This would only pour salt in that wound, no?” I was still confused at why he would make such an effort, but I still found it touching.

“Because I still love you. I want things back the way they were. I swear on everything, I've changed. I miss you more than anything-” I cut him off with a sweet kiss to his lips, and he melted into me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting and loving embrace.

After James pulled away, he looked me in my eyes, “How could you forgive me for saying all of that to you?” He began, “Id think you would just… hate me, I was a total jerk,”

“Or so you'd think. I still love you and miss you more than you could imagine,” I responded with a  small smile, and James matched mine, kissing me again. “Can… can I show you how much I've missed you?” James asked in a mumbled tone, clearly a bit embarrassed. My cheeks heated up at his offer and I giggled, nodding as our lips met a third time, a new hunger and desire now displayed. Slowly, he walked me to the table until I had backed up into it, his hands trailing up my sides until we broke away, his lips now going down my neck, eliciting a needy whine from the back of my throat, my hands pulling him closer, snaking under his shirt to trace his skin. 

James’s fingers slipped under my shirt, working to get it off of my head, leaving my neck for only a second to remove the fabric before attaching himself to my sensitive flesh, feeling him suck and nibble, definitely leaving bruises. He gave a more harsh bite, causing me to whimper, then soothing it over with his tongue before pulling away. Soon his gaze focused on my breasts, still confined with my bra. His eyes met mine again, “Can I take it off?” He asked ,already reaching around my back to work on the clasp, which had become an easy task for him. I nodded, and soon the garment was now on the floor with my shirt. The cold air caused my nipples to erect immediately, and James’ eyes were locked on them, cupping the in his hands as he squeezed them and pinched at my nipples, making me make high needy sounds, causing him to smirk, kissing around the soft flesh, teasing me with every movement he made. 

I began to claw at his shirt, trying to take it off of him, so he reluctantly pulled away from my chest, removing his own shirt, giving me a view I had missed more than I care to admit. My eyes dragged slowly over the newly exposed skin, and his lips crashed down on mine again, pushing me back so far I was now laying down on the table, the cold wood causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. I tugged at James’ pants, feeling myself grow wetter at the moment. He slipped down his pants, leaving him in only his boxers as you pulled down my skirt, leaving me in only my panties. I could see the bulge in his final layer grow at the new sight, and then he got on his knees, gripping the sides of my aunties and taking them off in a swift motion, leaving my glistening folds exposed to his hungry view.. His warm lips teased my thighs, kissing around the area I needed him most, making me writhe with desire. Eventually, his tongue found my center, giving it soft licks at first, parting my folds with his tongue. A moan escaped my throat, and James took it as his sign to keep going, burying his face between my thighs. He licked and sucked at my hole, probing at it with his tongue as his nose nudged my sensitive clit. My hand snaked into his long blonde locks, gripping his scalp tightly as I pulled him closer. I could hear him groan into my flesh, causing a vibration to coarse through me, making me moan again as I came closer to my first high. Eventually James moved further up, giving more attention to my aching clit, giving it gentle licks first to tease me before sucking it into his mouth, biting it softly, making me squeal from his ministrations.

“Jamei, fuck, Im gonna cum,” I whined out, tugging on hair harder, causing him to let out another low groan as he continued to feast on me. “Cum for me pretty girl,” He mumbled into my flesh, and like that my orgasm washed over me, a breathy moan falling my lips, feeling my core pulsate , releasing my grip on James’ head, allowing him to pull back.

James chin was drenched in my essence and his spit, some caught in his facial hair, wiping it off on the back of his hand. I dont think Ive seen anything hotter. His eyes landed on mine, and I noticed a lustful darkness in them, kissing me again as our tongues tangled in a battle for dominance, James winning in the end, and soon his boxers were on the ground, both of us bare in front of each other again.

JAmes broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, leaving new hickeys and bruises in his wake as they now peppered my neck. I felt his tip at my entrance and I squirmed, his lips leaving my bruised flesh. “You ready, baby?” He asked, taking my hand in his, and I nodded, feeling him slowly push into me, the stretching sensation stinging my insides, a delicious stretch my body had missed as I tried to accommodate his size. Once he was to the hilt, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, squeezing his hand tightly.

I gave him a look of a need, and he gook note, slowly beginning to pump his hips, untwining our fingers as he positioned himself with better support, placing his arms on either side of my head. With every thrust a moan escaped my throat, tears pricking at my eyes from the pleasure. “Fuck, you’re so tight… haven't had anything since me, hmmm?” James whispered to me, and I could only whine in response, his calloused fingers sneaking down to my clit, brushing the bud lightly with the pad of thumb, and I began to squirm around his cock, feeling his thrusts increase with speed, more grunts falling from James.

The table I laid on creaked beneath from our frevorus movements of need, completely forgetting we were still in the studio. The band was still in that studio. This room wasn't for recording, very little sound blockers. Anyone in this building could hear us. The thought didn't pass my mind once throughout the whole experience, only focused and becoming closer with James once again, not just in body, but in our connection reforming with every minstration from either of us.

James' thrusts grew relentless, only increasing the pleasure for both of us as he chased his own high, helping me with mine, continuing to toy with and stroke my clit, moans and whines leaving me with any movement he made. “So pretty like this, baby, taking me so well,” He groaned, his small grunts and moans filling my ears like sweet music. I began to buck my hips, knowing that my orgasm was approaching, James not far behind, his vocal expression of pleasure growing in number and volume, mixing with my own mewls and moans, that and the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, my nails clawing his back.

My eyes began to roll back, James’ name falling from my lips a thousand times as my legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him deeper to finally bring me to edge. James noticed and thrusted harder, hitting that special spot with every movement, making me have to cover my mouth with my hand, the unholy noises escaping me growing too loud for us to stay secret. James disapproved, “Mmmm, don't do that baby, let me hear you cum around my cock,” He cooed, and that was all the encouragement I needed to come over the edge, a high pitched moan coming from me, feeling my walls clamp down on James’ length, pulsating as waves of pleasure cascaded over me. James helped me ride through it, still rubbing my sensitive nub, his thrusts losing rhythm as he approached his own high.

“Fuck, sweetie, gonna cum inside you…” He grunted, his pace increasing as his movement became erratic with pleasure. “Take it, take it like a good girl, baby,” He moaned, his load shooting deep inside of me and painting my walls white with his seed. His hips sputtered, bucking into me as he collapsed on top of me, our sweaty foreheads clinging together as we both recovered from the intense orgasms, trying to catch our breath. James pressed soft, lazy kisses around my face, reminding me how much he loved me and how he'd never hurt me again if given the chance.

After a moment, we both had come down from our highs, James’ softening member sliding out of me with a pop. He looked down at the mess between my thighs, all evidence of our pleasure with each other. “Youre fuckin’ perfect,” He muttered, his eyes dragging over me.

“Are the groupies still better?” I teased him, remembering our bickering that was one real, or so I thought it was real fighting.

“Oh, hell no, they don't stand a chance to this,” He responded with a smile, and I smiled back.

We cleaned up, slipping back on our clothes so we were somewhat presentable. Only now did the realization that we were never once alone in this studio and the rest of the band was outside had hit me. A wave of embarrassment flowed over me, my cheeks flushing even more than they were before given the previous activities. Both James and I looked quite disheveled, our hair a mess and clothes wrinkled. I tried to shake off whatever nervousness I had in me as James put his arm around me. We went to reach for the door handle, only to find out it was still locked. Now it would be even more awkward. James knocked on the door from the inside, calling out to Lars, or anyone else in the studio.

“Guys? Lars? Can someone unlock the door?” And it wasn't long before footsteps approached, hearing a key click as the door swung open, Lars, more curious than ever eyed both my own and James’ appearance, noticing the hickeys, the slight wobble I gave, and any other imperfections that we might have displayed.

“I take it you two worked things out?”

— — — — > A FEW WEEKS LATER…

It had taken some time, a lot of talking, and more than just one hook up for James and I to work out any other issues that we had with each other. We met up a lot in the recent weeks after that, discussing different ways on how to help James with his drinking, and just trying to regain eachothers trust.

Soon enough though, James had moved back in with me. I kept my office space, but now the room was split in two halves. I worked in one half, while James did his guitar work in the other half. It was a fairly large room, so we both had our own spaces and rarely bothered each other. If I had a work call or anything that required silence, James would just migrate to the living room.

It was the same old schedule we had all those months ago, and I was now returning from work. It was Friday, now I would have plenty of time to relax and be with James. I pulled into the driveway, parking and getting out of my car as I walked up to the porch, the click of my heels following my steps on the cement. The lights were on, the door unlocked. I could hear a faint strumming coming from inside, meaning James was hard at work on new material for the album. It was my favorite thing to listen to while doing work assignments at home.

I walked in with a huff, setting down my purse and keys on the counter before heading to the shared office space. James wasn't playing much, just sounded like scales and chords for his warm ups. “How was work, baby?” James greeted me, still focused on his guitar. “It was a bit tiring, but it was good. I think my boss is starting to like me,” I answered, settling into my chair. He nodded in response, going back to fiddling with the strings.

It wasn't until a little later a soft, sweet and melodic tune had hit my ears. Much different than what Metallica normally plates. James hummed along to it, almost like he had lyrics already written out. But knowing him, he probably did.

“What are you playing? It sounds really nice,” I started, listening to a few more notes before continuing, “It's not what you guys normally play,” I commented, and James let out a deep hum in response. “Just something new I'm working on,” He replied, and I nodded, getting back to work.

Only this time, I couldn't focus. Normally James’s music helped me to focus, becoming a comforting background noise. This time though, I couldn't get my mind off of that melody. He kept going, and each second I kept getting more and more captivated by it. 

“That songs really pretty, I like it,” I said, scribbling down whatever notes I couldnt on a piece of paper. “Thanks, it's actually, uhm..” He trailed off, and I knew something was up. I spun around in my chair, going to face him. “It's what?” I asked, confused by his shy demeanor. 

“It's called ‘Nothing Else Matters’,” He stated, finally stopping picking at the strings. “Nothing Else Matters?” I repeated, connecting whatever the lyrics might be in my head to the melody. Normally their slower, melodic songs were dark and heavy topics, so I expected the same with this one.

“Yeah,” James answered, “I wrote the lyrics about you, actually,” He muttered softly, though I still picked it up. “About me?” I questioned, slightly shocked. “Yeah… I've thought a lot about, well, everything recently. Ever since that point a few months back I've reflected and everything… Rumors spread, and I just want everyone out there to get the right idea,” He paused, searching for the right words, “I want people out there to know that you're all I care about, you mean more than the world to me, and I want everyone to know that,” He stated, his tone true and emotional. I had never heard him say sweeter words to me, and I knew that he was speaking nothing other than the truth, I could see it in his eyes, there's a way to read people, and James wasn't easy to read, but you soon could learn the lingo.

“That means a lot to me, Jamie,” I answered, smiling at him. I got up from my chair to sit next to him on the couch, leaning against him. “Thank you,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. “You don't need to thank me, sweetheart,” James responded, wrapping his arm around me.

And now, I knew my whole world was whole again. What was once hatred, or so I thought was hatred, was once again love, everything as it should be.

[viperify]

Oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄᴏ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Escaping You.

Short summary: After spending incredibly tedious days alone in the cabin, they finally came back for another round. Though again, they disappeared in a hurry. Little did they know they left behind just what you needed…

Warnings: 18+ only! threesome, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, slight degradation

A/N: so sorry this took so long but every time I opened the document I questioned my sanity

wordcount: 2,2k

Read part 1 before!

It‘s been three days since they had left you behind in the cabin.

You paced around the room, panicking. After trying everything in your power to get out, you gave up, accepting your fate. If you had a wand, it would have been easy to get through the wards, but well, they took it from you. At least they were considerate enough not to let you starve. Three times a day a meal would appear on the wooden table next to the front door, and as soon you were finished the plate vanished.

Sadly enough, guessing what they would come up with next for you to eat was the most interesting part of the seemingly never-ending days. It was torture, really. There was nothing for you to do except either sit there or uselessly wander around the tiny space. Never had you imagined you would ever wish to read a book, but that was exactly what you craved most. Distraction. Anything.

Today‘s lunch consisted of pastries, some sort of bread with your favourite spread and–

You furrowed your eyebrows. How did they even know what your favourite was?

Shaking your head, you went on to finish your second meal of the day. It was not like you could ask them anyway.

Although you thought you had basically seen everything in the cabin, a strange looking wood panel caught your attention. It was just beneath one of the beds, barely peeking out. You quickly made your way towards it, and as you lifted the detached panel, a book and loose notes became visible. Quickly, you picked up what you had found and tried to make sense of it.

As you opened the book, you froze. Handwritten notes about Order member profiles, secret locations, frequently used spells and maps of Hogwarts were expertly put together on the paper. As you continued reading, more details came to light.

They knew everything.

Every single detail about Order movements, meetings, your research about Horcruxes… they had it all noted in that silly book. If they knew of all this, they could have erased the entire Order by now. The worst part was that you recognized Draco’s handwriting, meaning they must have gathered the information themselves. You shuddered as you flipped through the pages and you found a page which had your timetable on it, every single lesson you took accurately sketched out, as well as routes you normally took through the castle to get to the classrooms.

If they had done this for every Order member, you wouldn’t have been as creeped out, however it seemed to only be you who they made this effort for.

Someone from inside must have been leaking information, there was no way they could have found out all of this by themselves you thought. Just as you were about to study the notes, a loud creak of the front door had your head shoot up. Two familiar figures entered the cabin, taking off their masks on the way. You quickly tried to hide the notes, but it was too late.

“I thought you had learned your lesson about snooping around?” Tom asked, slowly making his way towards you.

“How did you get all this information and what do you need it for?”

The brunette’s mouth twitched, stopping right in front of you to take the books and notes from your hands. “That is none of your business, darling.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips trembling as you stood up, ready to confront them. His taller figure still towered over you, his piercing gaze meeting yours. The brunette’s expression was as always controlled, not a single emotion visible on his pale face.

“What did you think I was going to do? Sit there and reminisce about former times? Back when I wasn’t locked in this tiny cabin with nothing else to do? If you thought I would just give in after whatever happened between us, you are wrong. I will never defy the Order. Not until my very last breath.”

Your tone was sharp, drawing their attention to you. Tom turned around to face Draco as they exchanged a glance. “We thought you would say that. But as we said, you aren’t getting out of here. Not until it’s over.” The blonde said, coming closer as well.

As you were about to complain, the last sentence got caught in your head. You tilted your head, turning your attention to Draco, slowly walking towards him.

“Until what is over?” You questioned, voice controlled, barely above a whisper. Tom sighed defeatedly, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away from you two. “Malfoy, you are quite possibly the most stupid person I have ever had to work with.” He muttered under his breath, slowly shaking his head.

“Until what is over?” You repeated, eyes flickering between your capturers.

None of them were looking at you anymore though, Draco’s gaze was following Tom, who was pacing around the small cabin.

“Guys talk t-“ your attempt to speak was cut off by Tom swiftly locking his eyes with yours, approaching you. Taking a few steps backwards didn’t help, as you were stopped by the bed behind you. “You liked what we did, didn’t you? You enjoyed it?” He questioned calmly, his eyes staring right into yours, breath hot on your face.

As you didnt reply but rather avoid his strict expression, his hand wandered to your face, squeezing your cheeks almost painfully.

“Answer me.”

“Yes I did but-“ you complained, however  you were cut off again.

“Great. That’s all.” Tom loosened his grip, taking a step back with a sly grin on his face.

“You tell me what is going on. Why did you bring me here?” You hissed, though neither of them seemed to care. They were looking for something, and as they spotted one last sheet of paper you had managed to hide from them until that moment, the blonde snatched it, his lips perking up in a smile. “Got it.” He said, handing it over to Tom who also seemed satisfied.

You shook your head and huffed. “If I ever get out of here, you two should hope the Order show mercy. You have been spying on them for Merlin knows how long.”

“Order, Order, Order. It’s always just the Order with you, isn’t it? May I remind you of your blood status and who is in this very room with you?” Draco asked, though not necessarily in an offensive way, not like you were used to at least.

A scoff escaped your slightly parted lips as you shook your head in disbelief. “The Order is my family. However, I can’t help but ask myself,” your legs carrying you ever so slowly towards the blonde, “What would your dear families think of you getting with a muggle-born, hm?” Finally stopping in front of him, crossing your arms over your chest as you raised your eyebrows. Two pairs of eyes were now staring directly at you, the room having fallen into complete silence.

Draco closed the distance between you two, capturing you in a passionate kiss. Your first kiss together. His hand sneaked up to your neck, holding you close to him. “If you think we care about that you are mistaken.” He breathed, pulling away from you.

“We had an agreement, Malfoy” Tom warned, approaching you two.

“Tell her.”

The brunette‘s hand softly wrapped around your throat from behind, pressing his chest against your back as he leaned in, placing a small kiss on your ear. “This whole thing was never about the Order, darling.”

“A- About what is it then?” you breathed, tilting your head slightly as Tom trailed soft kisses down your neck.

“It has always been about you. Your safety.” Draco answered huskily, his lips meeting yours again before you had the chance to reply anything.

“You two are so infuriating.” You said as you broke apart.

“That’s why you love us.”

Soft moans escaped your mouth as the two Slytherins worked your body, the blonde ridding you of your trousers while Tom pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in your matching set of red underwear. “So pretty for us.” Draco encouraged, his hands roaming over your exposed skin, cupping your breasts over your lace bra at last, while Tom worked to open it. As soon as the material hit the ground, the blonde’s lips closed around your hardened peak, twirling his tongue around it before gently dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. Tom’s hand travelled over your waist to your tummy, slipping inside your panties to find your swollen clit, drawing lazy circles on it.

Any doubt in your mind had long vanished, replaced by the pure bliss of pleasure spreading through your body. Just when you were about to reach your much needed release, your palm closing around around Tom’s arm as your head rested on his shoulder, the brunette withdrew his hand, leaving you teetering at the edge of your climax.

Your eyes fluttered open, a whimper falling over your lips at the loss of his touch. “Please” you whined, but as always, they didn’t listen to you.

“Patience is virtue, darling. Now, kneel for us.”

You did as you were told, sinking down on the cold wooden floor, eyes locking onto Draco. Excitement started rushing through you at the sight of your capturers, who stripped themselves of their black clothing, switching positions.

“It’s my turn try your sweet pussy today.” Draco murmured, lining himself up with your soaked entrance after collecting some of your slick. You both gasped as he slowly pushed his tip inside of you, stretching you just how you liked it. The brunette in the meanwhile watched you two hungrily, and just after you had adjusted to the blonde, Tom tapped his cock against your plump lips. Your eyes met his, your tongue swiping over your lips seductively. The brunette’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched you, all while getting fucked by the other Slytherin. “Dirty girl. Come on, open up now. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours.”

You stuck your tongue out, letting him slide his hard length past your lips. Just about over halfway in, he hit the back of your throat, having you gag around him. “Open up wider, slut. I know you can. Saw it last time.”

It took a few thrusts until both Slytherin’s had set a steady rhythm, Draco’s cock pushing into you from the perfect angle which had you seeing stars, while Tom mercilessly thrusted into your mouth, using hid grip on your hair as leverage. “Such a good girl for us. Doing so well.” The blonde cooed, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips as he sped up, his tip kissing your cervix with almost every thrust. “You like this, don’t you?”

“Mmhm-“ you agreed best you could as the lewd sounds of Tom hitting the back of your throat filled the cabin. Dissatisfied with your reply his fingers tangled in your curls, pulling you off his cock, a string of saliva connecting to your lips. “Answer him properly” he demanded, his darkened eyes staring back at yours.

“Y-Yes I do! I love it!” You blurt out, groaning when the blonde’s hand sneaked towards your clit to rub on it. “That’s right, good girl.” Tom growled, pushing back into you.

Your hips moved back against Draco’s for extra friction, feeling the waves of your high about to break the dam that had been holding it back for so long, eager to find release.

Both of their arms jerked back with a hiss and they exchanged a glance, halting their movements. “Why did you stop?“ you blinked a few times, the feeling in your lower stomach slowly fading.

“I fear we have to go. So sorry, love. We will make it up to you, I promise.” Draco explained, getting up. They dressed themselves in a hurry, not paying you any more attention.

“You can’t be serious. Stay! Don’t even think about leaving me here again!” You yelled, however both of them had already put on their coats, exiting the cabin at once.

The door was locked. They had left you behind yet again.

You sank down against the door, exhaling sharply. Your eyes roamed around the place, and just as you were about to get up to dress yourself, you spotted something familiar. It was your wand, which they had apparently lost in their hurry. Quickly you got dressed and picked up your wand, feeling relieved to finally have it back.

With the help of some spells, you were able to work your way through the wards, and the door opened. A smile formed on your face at the first breath of fresh air in days. You contemplated leaving behind a note but decided against it. If they weren’t going to tell you why it was important to stay in the cabin, you wouldn’t. The Order needed you.

You made your way out of the small hut, checking whether it was safe.

Then, you ran.

Tagging a few people who wanted a pt 2:

@leviathans-fish @grandeoatmilklatte @shinytalent @noisytravelerpizza @iwasalloverhimmmm

I hope it isn’t too disappointing. I had an idea when I posted pt 1 but I scrapped that and writing this was a STRUGGLE lmao.

[dearggntlereader]

ho is you bored? ho imma give you requests

smut: passionate love making but LOVE making, with matt but he loves it since he is used to rough stuff but he js realizes how much he loves soft LOVEmaking and starts to worship you😈😈🚨🚨

angst: ive seen this tt where this guy (in our case matt🥰) and reader are having this forbidden love situation and they both know that they can’t be together and they are sharing this like gut wrenching silence in each others presence (OR FORBIDDEN LOVE AND THEY GET 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 😈)

fluff: its yule ball, but reader hates loud and crowded spaces and doesn’t enjoy her time, mattheo who is her enemy 😈 notices and drags her out if the room and they start to dance on the staircase outside of the hall with the music and their laughter echoing through the castle 😝😝

idk what to call this: pansy and reader being besties and gossiping around while shopping at hogsmade and just enjoying their time🤗🤗

byebyeee😝😝

ho is u a genius

TW: smut, praise, overstimulation, I don't often write smut so this might be complete shit

The press of his mouth on yours is soft and slow, giving space for gentle warmth to surround you two. You’re cradled in his hands as if you’re made of porcelain, like you're delicate and he couldn’t bear to hurt you.

It’s a stark difference to your usual kisses, hot and heavy- more of a clashing of teeth and tongues than a kiss, and the way he pulls away once in a while to let his eyes roam your face and then dive back in causes a weird bubbling in your stomach.

His hands are roaming your body, slowly like he’s memorizing every curve and crook of your body instead of the usual fast, desperate clawing.

Mattheo pulls away once again, his breathing and eyes heavy. You let out a soft whine at the loss of his lips on yours, but as you open your eyes you can’t help the quiet giggle that falls out of your mouth. His Lips are parted and the look in his is nothing short of Adoration.

He doesn’t lean back in, gazing at you instead, his eyebrows are scrunched together slightly as he bites his lip.

Your cheeks flush when he doesn’t avert his eyes. What was he looking for?

“What?” you laugh lightly, trying to coax what this means out of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out. He’s told you you’re beautiful before, probably a thousand times, but not like this. Never like he's breathing just to say the words, like you’re the air filling his lungs, keeping him alive.

You draw in a sharp breath, eyes wide as you watch him. His hands tighten around your waist, he presses a soft kiss to your collarbone before continuing. “Your just so-”

He swallows, trying to find the right words for the overwhelming warmth flooding his veins.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up from this utterly amazing dream, thinking that one day you’ll be gone and I just imagined all of this. But, you’re so… real.” He chuckles at his choice of words.

Your eyes are wide, staring at him in disbelief.

“You’re like a goddess. I want to worship you forever, giving you everything in hopes you stay with me.” 

“I would never leave you.”

Mattheo kisses you again, soft but firm. He smiles against your lips before his mouth travels to your neck, starting his worship. He bites and licks at your neck and shoulder, not even remotely as quick or harsh as he usually would.

You gasp as he darts out his tongue to sooth the mark he left just the day before. The way his hands are squeezing at your waist before moving to your back, pressing you closer against him in a makeshift hug, causes the heat between your legs to grow. 

It’s the way he can’t seem to get enough of your warmth, the way he’s trying to fuse you together- like letting go isn’t an option.

Before traveling further down he carefully guides you toward the bed, instead of getting on his knees right here like he would any other time. He wants to take his time today.

His Lips never leave your skin as your back hits the bed. He simply moves to place kisses on your face, soft pecks that cause melodic laughter to leave your mouth.

Even in his gentleness, there’s a raw intensity to the way he touches you, like nothing in this world could keep him from loving you exactly as you are.

He fumbles with your shirt and bra, trying to get it off, without separating himself from you. In the end he pulls back with an annoyed huff, gently pulling your clothes off instead of simply pushing them up like he sometimes does.

As your tits spring free, his hands immediately find them as he leans in to kiss you again. You moan into the kiss when his finger grazes your nipple. He keeps rolling it between his fingers, causing a shiver rolling down his body.

His other hand travels down your body, slipping his fingers under your waist band to signal you to lift your hips.

He leaves your lips and you whine at the loss but quickly forget the displeasure when he kisses along your chest and stomach on his way down to your pants.

He pulls them off slowly, leaving you bare and exposed. You whine when you notice he’s still fully dressed and move your hands to tug at his shirt. “please, matty.”

He swiftly pulls off his shirt before kneeling before the bed. “Anything for you, princess.”

His gentle tone makes you sigh in pleasure. The warm feeling only grows as he massages your thighs and leaves kisses on your lower stomach and upper thighs, coaxing you to part your legs further.

He meets your eyes as he moves closer to your core. 

To him, you’re a living, breathing miracle. He doesn’t just want you; he reveres you, like you’re something divine.

You throw your head back in pleasure as he places a soft kiss on your clit. You don’t have time to be embarrassed by your strong reaction when hums against your heat, clearly pleased.

He licks a stripe through your folds and you’re sure It’s not just his actions that cause your strong reaction—it’s in his eyes, in the way they darken but stay warm as if you’re the only thing he can see, as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

You quickly lose yourself in pleasure, moaning and whining. Shaking under him as he keeps eating you out, the coil in your stomach tightening.

His Hands are roaming your thighs, squeezing every once in a while as he murmurs soft praises against you.

“So pretty for me”

“I could stay here forever. You're so sweet, mi vida.”

He’s sucking on your clit, tightening his lips around it and the coil in your stomach finally snaps as you grip the sheets in desperation.

You scream out his name as he keeps licking and sucking, leading you through your first orgasm. Just that he doesn’t stop after your left panting and sweating. He keeps mouthing at you, like a man starving. Even as you press your thighs closer and hiss at the overstimulation.

“One more for me, amor”

Somewhere between your third and fourth orgasm, his praises turn completely spanish.

I'll write the others too, although I'm not sure how I'll connect them to this post yet. I might link them down here later but to be sure just check my blog<33

[whoreforsexymen]

Vander 🫗 | SMUT Headcanons

Pairings: Vander x Reader, Dom!Vander x Reader

Rating: NSFW!! 18+, MDNI ! You WILL be blocked.

Pronouns: She/Her + Female Anatomy Descriptions

Word Count: 898

Tags: DaddyDom!Vander, Spit play, Finger Sucking, Fingering, Crawling, Thigh Riding, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Size Difference, Etc.

Notes: Just some spicy Headcanons for our big, old, husky, bearded barman 🤍 as well as some for a darker version of our big teddy bear dad 🤍

- Vander is completely enchanted by your lips. Every chance he gets, especially when he cradles your face in his hands, he can’t resist the urge to brush his thumb over them, savoring their softness. It’s also no wonder how primal it makes him feel considering how your own natural instinct is to suck the skin of his thumb gently. Every. Single. Time.

- He can’t help but prod at them until you let him breach the surface. You’re always so hungry for a taste of him, no matter if it’s his cock or his fingers. Always so insatiable, and deeply unsatisfied until moments like these when you’re greedily swirling your tongue around his finger.

- He never wastes time in hooking his thumb into your mouth, toying with making you and your tongue slave to find it. The slickness of your saliva and the sounds that follow are nothing short of immaculate, a perfect blend of neediness and yearning that leave him desperately smitten.

- The way you whimper, and the way your thighs grind together to ease the tension and aching in your clit drives him to the brink—the sounds unraveling him, each one igniting the flames of his own aches.

- He wants nothing more than to switch his fingers out for his cock— but unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to hear you as well. His fingers are slim enough to let the noise pass over them, but his cock would be a different story.

- Vander is a gentle lover by nature, but— like any part of nature, he has his more unpredictable moments. His ‘natural disasters’ or sorts. Though—you wouldn’t necessarily call them ‘disasters’.

- Just as easily as it is for him to spend hours tenderly ramming his cock into you, during more ferocious, needy moments, he’ll waste no time in fucking you senseless. Despite it mainly happening every blue moon, he knew when you needed it like this, and he knew that you’d be willing to take it on the days he needed it like this.

- You both have happily accepted that he’s a man with a wild side to be nurtured every now and then. And you’re so good at nurturing it for him. When laying in bed, he’s started fucking you from behind, quickly losing his patience for tenderness. He’s sat upright against the headboard, and pulled you on top of him, all without ever disconnecting from you for even a moment.

- With your back pressed to his chest, he cups under your knees, almost folding you in half from the way he gripped and pulled them back- as he started slamming his hips at a merciless pace. The angle had you practically foaming at the mouth, considering—with his given strength—he uses minimal effort to bounce you up and down to meet the way he was snapping his hips up into you. The way your ass bounced on his legs is a sight that constantly makes his dick twitch when he thinks back to it.

- The screams you could never bother to try stifling almost kept him up at night sometimes. Too many times have the recollections made him overfill a pint or two behind the bar counter, earning questioning glances from bar patrons. He can’t always help the way his mind wanders when he has you to ravish every night.

- Vander often says things like:

“C’mon Angel— Look at me while you suck my cock dry. I wanna see those pretty little eyes of yours.”

“That’s it— Attagirl. Atta-fuckin’-girl.”

Dom!Vander HC’s

- Will make you kneel on the ground, mouth wide open, pussy dripping, and leave you like that. He’d tell you that you weren’t allowed to swallow your spit. He’d then pull up a chair and sit in front of you, despicably far, and just watch you. He’d wait until your shirt became transparent from how much drool had fallen on it. Then—only then, would he speak.

- “Crawl…” he commands.

- You obey. You crawl to him, almost desperately quick, until you stop at his boots. He’d be tempted to make you grind on them, but he prefers his thighs for that.

- You crawl onto him, straddling one of his massive thighs.

- Just a few minutes into him making you grind yourself down on it, his blue jeans are just as soaked as your shirt.

- “Attagirl.” He’d coo as he’d start guiding your hips for you with his hands. It’s your fault if you think he’s going to let you cum anytime soon, though.

- When he halts all movement once you’re practically falling off the edge of your orgasm, he’d tut at you when you keep trying to desperately find the friction again.

- “Don’t you fight me.” He’d snap as you greedily tried to chase your orgasm, thrashing your hips around against his grip.

- He’d pull your hair and make you look at him, his other hand holding your jaw with contempt.

- Denial was his virtue. He won’t let you cum until you’re crying and begging for mercy.

- “Cry for me, Angel.” He’d command, needing to see the tears in your eyes while you begged for release.

- When you’d get too embarrassed to do so, he’d grip your face tighter.

- “Let. Me. Hear. You.” So you do. You let it out.

- And then—only then, will he slip his thick fingers in you.

- “Excellent. Such a good girl. Now. Get yourself off on daddy’s fingers, yeah?” He’d purr.

[k0mmari]

Okay people, I need to talk about IDOL!Shen Yuan AU before I explode (aka slight Aggretsuko inspired office au…..)

I’ll try to make this short for once jdvfhbjdhbvdf, but basically SY has been (forcefully) made to work for his brother(SJ) in the family company, after SJ decided enough was enough, and SY was going to do something with his life besides rotting away in his bed whether he liked it or not. The thing is, he wasn’t (just) rotting in bed reading atrocious novels, but he also took some time to experiment with music as a hobby, and over time, he grew a small following.

Though, after he was dragged to work at SJ’s side, the ever boring of dealing with paperwork and staring at white walls was eating at him. It’s not like he struggled doing his job, in fact, he was quite good at it, but he wasted no effort to make it very clear that he did not like that he was there in the first place. So, in an act of rebellion and to just do SOMETHING other than feel every passing second of the day in a cubicle, he decided to work even harder in his music hobby. It eventually led to SJ finding out and sparing no words to say that SY needed to focus on his real job, which only made SY brat out even harder, even managing to find an alternative music club and booking a few performances.

It went great! More people showed up than he expected, and all went great, but since his health was still not the best, after that he basically spent a whole month crashed out, not being able to do any more performances and barely able to go to the office once a week.

Anyways, it all led to SY thinking he had proved SJ right that he couldn’t continue this life style, and even thinking about quitting it, but one day while he was scrolling on the comments on one of his MVs (aka a Fancy Lyric Video), one of the comments mentioned that SY was one of the most important influences for that person, and that it inspired them to start pursuing music. It was the first time he had received a comment of that nature, and it lit the fire of his motivation back up.

Some 2 years passed, SJ still kept SY at the office, but SY had reached a nice balance on his online music work and performances on that club, and as his popularity grew, his performances at that one club had almost turned into a whole event for his most dedicated fans. So, enter Luo Binghe:

He was that comment that SY had read, and he did want to try music after being a fan of SY’s for almost three years now, but due to his financial situation he desperately needed some other source of income first. Now, at his last year of college, he managed to get an internship onto the Shen family’s company, which was a huge step forward towards his dreams, unfortunately he just had to go under SJ, which as we all know, was never kind to Binghe, instead acting as if the boy should just give up the internship entirely. And Binghe did think about it, but it seemed as if the stars had aligned for Binghe at least once, and SJ, after getting a sudden influx of work, delegated Binghe to SY.

They got on quite well, and Binghe even grew to have a little crush on SY, but it was all going fine and great until one fateful day. The office was as boring as ever, and after SY let Binghe know they wouldn’t have to entertain any clients for the day, Binghe decided to work on his part while listening to some music of his favorite artist.

Binghe has an awful habit of listening to music worryingly loud, so when SY went to get him to explain his new task, he ended up listening to what Binghe was hearing: his own music, in fact, his newest song. He pondered telling Binghe about the coincidence, but decided that maybe would be overstepping some professional boundary, and instead told Binghe about his one music club SY had heard about…

Binghe, excited to get to know more places around the area (and maybe understanding what SY did in his free time), decided to go to the club the next week after work, and did not even think about checking who would be performing in the day he would visit. Imagine his surprise when he gets to the door of the music club and hears some awfully famíliar music, and after rushing to be as close to the stage as possible, besides being blinded by his favorite artist’s greatness, also noticed that, hey, the artist looked an awful lot like a certain coworker of his….

Anyways, shenanigans ensue, Binghe starts his own investigation on SY possibly being the artist, SY juggling his office life, music career, and SJ perhaps coming to accept his brother’s career, and even maybe revealing a bit about his own past with music performances.

That’s all I had for today, just wanted to release this into the world! If anyone wants to expand on this, or try their on take on it, feel more than free to! Here are some more doodles of the usual day at the office :)