#she was just checking out my earrings lmao

[strongbabe2907]

Here’s a little review of Zepp Haneda - Dir en grey Who is this hell for tour 2024

In the morning i took a wrong train and almost ended in Yokohama, lmao. In the end i was there around 10:40 and we got the merch tickets.

After that we met up with a few people and had some food. The cafe/bar we went too was blasting Dir all day and played their pvs inside too, it was surreal but very cute.

Visnu brought the art books and it was so cool to see them irl before she put them in the gift box🥰 everyone worked so hard!! Go check out #SilverCoinProject if you haven’t! I’m not an artist i send in some pictures hehe. There’s also a picture in there of my gifts.. maybe i’ll post them later on social media now i have given them.

So we walked around a bit and went to the torii my friend recommended, but they were doing construction work right around it so it was a bit noisy.

When it was time for merch we found out todays sticker was Kaoru!! I hoped a shiny but unfortunately just normal ones. Still cute.

I bought more merch for friends and some standees, did some trading with other japanese fans and some gift exchange 🥰 honestly everyone has been so nice and sweet.

We god dinner before the show and i started to get nervous again.. we split up waiting because we had different numbers and i was very focused on the counting haha.

I had 235 for vip which got me… 6th row maybe? Second barrier in zepp. Which was.. i had hoped for a bit closer but it is what it is.

Again i was between Kaoru and Kyo and looked at them most. Shinya wore his white outfit, Die also wore a white outfit. I think Toshiya was all black? He wore the shorts with something on top and dramatic separate sleeves.

Kaoru looked amazing! He was in all black. Black dress shirt with big collar. Wearing a small, wide black tie. His waistcoat thing and trousers/shorts were the same texture/print. The waistcoat was much more wide/baggy and shorter in the front and longer in the back. I think it had 2 rows of 3 buttons on it. The shorts were just passed his knees and veryy wide with big pockets on the sides. He wore black leggings with them again. Black dr martens and i think socks?

His hair was pulled back in a little ponytail and he had two strands loose in the front. One behind his ear and one just loose. He had the usual make up, little fangs, eyeliner and dark shading especially around his head. He was the only one that didn’t change for the encore.

Kyo wore the same simple outfit. I still couldn’t make out the tat very well, but thought i could discern some points to it.. Visnu later mentioned she thinks it’s either like a little star or a cross?

He wore low black doc martens this time.

His voice was just 💯from the start. They seemed more energetic/relaxed than the first show (which was still really good btw). He did some dancing (god he’s so tiny..) and moved around and took his earpieces out to listen to the crowd sing/shout. Closer to the end he pointed at two people, one right ahead of me. I think one of them had made a tattoo like him and he was smiling? Cute.

Also HELLOOO obscure was so awesome. It was the more recent version which i personally prefer. It was so cool!! And i mentioned this on twitter already but Kaoru didnt do much wahwah but he did grunt along with tsumi no kisei and was doing tough guy act to the crowd and singing along with a song (sorry cant remember which) for a long but, it was really cute. They switched sides once i think. My friends said there was almost a twin towers collision but i didnt see.

After the last song (Eddie), Kyo did a big smile and said ‘bye bye’ and he was off.

Shinya’s drumstick landed right next to my foot but i was busy looking at Kaoru😭😂🙈(he was also throwing stuff). Then girl next to me notices a tiny but before me and bend down to grab it, but it was fine i mosty found it funny i missed it cos i was going 👁️ at Kao.

Everyone but Kyo also threw a tour towel.. maybe shinya didnt? Im not sure. Toshiya was smiling and put his face in it before tossing it in the crowd lol. Kaoru also threw it near the front and Die tied a knot in it again and pitched it to the back of the venue lol.

So good live! Girls around me were lively but i was standing at a bit of a dead area in the crowd?? I liked both citta and zepp even though the vibes were different. (Citta was def more intense)

After the show we got the vip bags! They’re very cute. And now i try and recover a little before heading to Kyoto.

[37sommz]

❁ : reality check . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: angst angst angst. ✼. wc: 6k.

any signs of an improved positioning at mclaren are dashed to the wind during the second race of the season. the bright jeddah lights only further expose the cracks in the mclaren livery.

✼. warnings: language, mclaren team orders.

✼. notes: the start of a painful arc for michaela lmao, just know it gets significantly worse for her at mclaren <3

000.⠀⠀MARCH 25, 2022    ›    Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

Michaela tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she approached the final corner of the third practice session at the 2022 Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. The sun was a fiery ball in the cloudless sky, beating down on the asphalt and making the track sizzle. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she remained focused, her eyes darting between the tachometer and the road ahead. The roar of the engine filled her ears, a familiar sound she had grown to crave.

As the session ended, she pulled into the pit lane, the tires screeching against the concrete. Her chief engineer, Rob, greeted her with a nod as she climbed out of the cockpit. His expression was a mix of satisfaction and concern. "Good job, Mick," he said, handing her a towel. "You're looking strong out there, but we need to find some more pace. The Bulls are looking really sharp today."

Michaela took the towel and wiped her face, her heart still racing from the adrenaline. "I know," she replied. "I'll push harder in qualifying."

000.⠀⠀MARCH 26, 2022    ›    Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

Qualifying the next day was a nail-biter. The track cooled down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the circuit. The final moments approached, and she found herself in a fierce battle lodged in the timings between Ferrari and Alpine. As the checkered flag loomed closer, she pulled out an amazing lap, one that surprised even herself. Her McLaren shot up to second on the grid, just behind Sergio Perez's Red Bull. The team erupted in cheers as she pumped her fist in the air.

At the press conference, the atmosphere was charged. Journalists threw questions at the top three qualifiers: Sergio, Michaela, and Charles. Her heart raced as she fielded questions about tire strategy and her thoughts on the upcoming race. Then, the moment came. A journalist she didn't recognize leaned into the microphone and asked, "Michaela, can you tell us about your sister Courtney's relationship with Daniel Ricciardo? How does that affect your dynamic in the paddock?"

Courtney had accompanied Daniel to Jeddah for the first time since they began their relationship last year. Her presence alone had not been enough to catch the attention of the media and their drama-seeking journalists. Instead, it was the blue Alpine cap that rested upon her head that drew their attention. The blue was unmistakably different from Michaela's orange McLaren hats.

Michaela felt the temperature in the room shift as the journalist's question hung in the air. She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'd prefer to keep my focus on the race and my own performance," she said firmly. "Courtney's personal life is exactly that—personal. It doesn't affect my driving, and it shouldn't be a topic here." The journalist looked taken aback, but she held her ground, refusing to indulge in the gossip. "Let's focus on the race, shall we?" 

The room went quiet, and she felt the tension thicken. The journalist struggled to find his words as Michaela continued to stare him down from her place on the media couch.

After the press conference, her phone buzzed with messages from Daniel and Courtney. "Thanks for that," Daniel's text read. "Could've gone sideways real quick." Courtney's message was similar, expressing her gratitude for the protection. Despite the annoyance, a small smile played on her lips. It was moments like these that reminded her of the highlights of her career.

That night, as she lay in her hotel room, she heard a soft knock on the door. To her surprise, it was Jenson, his grin as wide as when he won his first championship. They had agreed to keep their relationship under wraps to avoid unnecessary distractions, but seeing him here made her heart skip a beat. "Couldn't stay away, huh, JB?" she teased, letting him in.

"I had to wish you luck in person," he said, his eyes twinkling. He leaned in for a kiss, and she melted into his embrace, feeling his warmth and the comfort of his presence. The weight of the race weekend lifted off her shoulders for a brief moment in his arms. "I'm feeling another win in the air," he murmured conspiratorially. Michaela, ever superstitious, could only scoff shyly at his words, choosing instead to draw his lips back to hers.

"I won't be able to stay for long," Jenson hummed into her hair. "Don't want to distract you from tomorrow."

Michaela pulled away with a nod, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "As if you could," she teased, taking in his disheveled, jetlagged appearance. Despite their efforts to keep their relationship a secret, they couldn't resist the occasional stolen moment together. "But, I guess you're right. I'm going to be fighting for my life between Checo and Charles."

Jenson's eyes searched hers, a hint of worry flickering. "You've got this," he said with a firm nod. "Just remember, it's not just you out there. You've got a whole team backing you, and they want to see you on that top step more than anyone else."

"More than you?" She snicked as her fingers danced over the five-o-clock shadow dusting his jaw and spilling over onto his cheeks.

"Well, almost." His laugh was soft, a gentle rumble in his chest. "But I'll be watching from the Sky Box, cheering louder than anyone."

Michaela's eyes searched his, and she knew he meant it. His support had been unwavering, even if the world wasn't ready for their relationship to be in the spotlight. "Thank you, babe."

000.⠀⠀MARCH 27, 2022    ›    Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

The morning of the race dawned hot and dry, the air thick with anticipation. As she suited up in the garage, the smell of the city's surroundings filled her nostrils, a scent that she had come to associate with victory. The engineers made their final checks, and she took her place in the cockpit, feeling the car come alive around her.

The start of the race was clean, and she slotted into second place behind Sergio with ease. For the first stint, she held her position, her tires gripping the track like a vice. Her heart raced as the laps ticked by, the sound of the cars a harmony in her ears. But as the race progressed, the heat began to take its toll. The tire degradation was higher than expected, and she felt the car slipping away from her, especially under braking.

When Nicolas Latifi crashed and the safety car was deployed, her engineers told her to stay out on track. The pit wall was insistent, saying they were playing the long game. Her heart sank as she watched her rivals peel into the pit lane.

With a frustrated hiss, she questioned the decision of her team's strategy, "My tires are shot, and I'm losing time!"

Rob, her engineer, remained calm over the radio, "Mick, hold your position. We need to maximize your stint and we’ll pit you at the exact right time." When he was met with silence from the Australian, he added additional context. "If we play this right, you can win this race."

But as the safety car pulled away and the green lights signaled the restart, the truth of her situation hit her like a sledgehammer. The Mercedes of George Russell in front of her streaked away, the gap between them widening like a chasm with every passing corner. Her tires screamed in protest, the grip she once had now a distant memory. Each time she tried to push, the car would wobble, threatening to take her out of the race entirely.

Her engineer's voice grew more urgent in her ear. "Michaela, keep pushing! You're outside the pit window. Just a few more laps."

Michaela gritted her teeth, the car's handling deteriorating with every passing second. "I can't keep up like this," she replied through gritted teeth. "If we don't pit, I'll crash."

Her voice grew more desperate as she felt her grip on the race slipping away. "Tires are gone, Rob! I need to pit now."

The team's response was a tense silence, then, "Pit now, Mick. In and out. We're going for a fresh set of hards." Michaela nearly rolled her eyes at the defeat in Rob's voice, the weight of her pleas settling in as she rounded the last few corners before the pit entry.

In a flash of orange, she peeled into the pit lane, the crew springing into action around her. The tires were slapped onto her car with practiced accuracy, the milliseconds ticking by like hours. Her heart sank further as she saw her position drop down the order. When she re-joined the race, she had fallen to eighth. Only six laps remained, and she was nowhere near the podium she had been fighting for.

Her engineer's voice crackled over the radio. "Mick, we're issuing team orders. You're to overtake Esteban but keep behind Lando. You're the better defender. We need to protect our position."

Michaela's jaw clenched around the mouthpiece. "But I can pass Lando and chase Russell for 4th!"

"Negative," Rob responded firmly. "Prioritize passing Esteban and hold your position behind Lando."

Michaela's knuckles tightened further around the steering wheel. The injustice of the situation burned in her chest, but she knew arguing with the team was futile. With a deep breath, she begrudgingly accepted the order and focused back on the track. Esteban was in her sights, and she had to make a move. She waited for the right moment, then pounced, her car screaming as it flew past the Alpine.

Her eyes flicked to her mirrors, expecting to see Ocon falling behind. But instead, she saw his navy blue car approaching with alarming speed.

"What the hell?" she muttered under her breath. She knew the Alpines were fast in Jeddah, but she didn't anticipate Esteban to be so aggressive. "Keep it clean, Ocon," she warned, her voice tight as she muttered the words under her breath. Her warning went unheard. Esteban's car was all over hers, pushing her to the edge of the track. Her tires screeched as she fought to keep control, the heat from the asphalt rising like waves around her.

The team's voice crackled in her ear, "Michaela, hold your position." The warning came as if Rob had read her mind. If Esteban were to come even a hair closer to her under the breaking, the nose of his French car would be right under the tail of her McLaren.

Michaela's eyes flicked to her dashboard, the gap between her and Lando steadily closing. Her teeth ground together in frustration. The Englishman was making no effort to increase his pace, even if just to help her out.

"Why am I being held up?" she demanded.

"Michaela," Rob's voice came through, potentially as frustrated as she was. "We need you to hold onto your position," Rob replied, his tone straightforward but strained. "Concentrate on Esteban please."

Michaela bit back an objection, knowing the situation was already tense enough. Instead, she focused on the task at hand. Esteban was relentless, his car a constant presence in her mirrors. The tension grew palpable until she could almost feel the heat of his exhaust.

With four laps to go, she had had enough. "If Esteban lunges at me again, I'm going for it," she announced over the radio, her voice tight with determination. "Lando needs to get out of the way or we're both out of this race."

"Negative, Michaela," Rob's voice was stern. "Stay put."

Michaela's eyes flicked to the dashboard. The gap to Lando was practically nonexistent. Esteban's relentless pressure was getting to her. The Frenchman's impatience grew more apparent with each corner, his car nibbling at hers every chance he got. The tension mounted until it was almost unbearable, almost choking her with impatience.

As they approached the final corner of the 46th lap, Esteban made his move, darting to the inside. But he'd made a mistake. He'd overcooked it, and now he was too close for comfort. In a split second, her instincts took over. She jerked the wheel to the right, cutting him off, and took the corner with the precision of a fighter pilot. The crowd held their breaths as the two cars danced a dangerous dance, their paint almost touching.

"Michaela, what are you doing?" Rob's voice was sharp in her ear.

Her heart racing, she shot back, "Making sure I don't get taken out of this fucking race!" She glanced in her mirrors, expecting to see Esteban's car in a cloud of dust and gravel, but somehow he managed to stay on track. The move had been risky, but it was the only option she had.

The team was furious. "Michaela, that was unprofessional," Rob barked over the radio. "We need you to calm down and bring it home." 

At first, she could not comprehend why Rob was so angry with her. The move, though sudden, had kept her out of the barriers of the Jeddah Corniche Circuit. But as she glanced in her left mirror she realized the source of the engineer's anger. Lando's helmet stared back at her as his head whipped back and forth between the back of her car and the front of Esteban's. The three of them were now nose to tail with Michaela out in front, the podium a distant memory.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the straight ahead. "Tell Lando I apologize," she murmured into the microphone. But she didn't truly mean it. The fire in her belly had been lit and she wasn't about to let it die out now. "But if he can't keep up, I'm not waiting around."

Her radio crackled with Zak Brown's voice, the McLaren team principal's tone a mix of annoyance and disappointment. "Michaela, please give the position back to Lando."

Michaela clenched her jaw, the taste of a podium now replaced with the bitter taste of defeat. With gritted teeth, she responded, "But I've been faster this entire race."

"It's not about speed right now," Zak said, his voice firm. "It's about the team. We need those points. Do it, Mick." 

She gritted her teeth, trying to push aside the anger bubbling inside. The podium was lost, and now she was fighting for scraps. She carried on her race without responding to the team's CEO. She knew there would be hell to pay for her attitude during the race but as the laps remaining counted down, she couldn't help but heed the devil on her shoulder telling her to push it further.

She could hear the frustration in Rob's voice as he relayed her new position to her. "You're in sixth now, Mick. Just keep it clean please." The words stung like a slap.

The remaining laps were a blur of orange and blue. She pushed the McLaren to its limits, feeling the g-forces pressing her into the seat. The tires screeched in protest, but she was relentless. Esteban was now the one under pressure, his car visibly struggling with the wear from their intense battle. With each corner, she felt the gap between herself and Lando growing, but she knew it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for her ego.

As they approached the straight for the final two laps, she could picture the checkered flag in the distance, taunting her. The crowd's roar grew louder, a song of engines and cheers that seemed to fuel her determination. The gap between her and Lando was now stable, but she couldn't help the burning in her chest, the desire to push ahead.

Her thoughts raced as the laps ticked down.

Michaela felt the pressure building in her chest, the taste of failure bitter on her tongue. But she couldn't let it get to her. Not now. She had to push through, had to keep her head in the game. Her eyes flicked to the pit board, the words blurring together as she took in the information. "Fuel level okay, tire degradation stable, no issues." The calmness of the team's voice was in stark contrast to the chaos in her mind.

"Michaela, we will have a conversation after the race," Andreas Seidl's voice was clear, completely devoid of the emotion held in Zak and Rob's voices. Again, she left the message hanging in the air, giving no indication she heard the promise.

Michaela could feel the tension in the air as she took the final corner and crossed the finish line in sixth place. The cheers from the crowd were muffled in her ears as she pulled into the pit lane, her thoughts racing as she killed the engine. She knew she had let her emotions get the better of her, but she couldn't help the feeling of injustice that weighed on her.

As she climbed out of the car, the heat of the day enveloped her in a sticky embrace. The cameras flashed, and the journalists clamored for her attention. She offered them a forced smile, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the race.

Her team's debrief was short and tense. The engineers avoided eye contact, and she could feel the disapproval radiating from them. "We'll discuss this in Surrey," was all that was said before she was ushered into a quiet corner of the garage.

Zak Brown, her team principal, approached her with a look that could make a seasoned racer quake in their boots. Michaela stood tall against the American, the top of her head a handful of centimeters above his own even without the added height of her loose curls.

"Michaela, in my office, now," he said curtly, his voice cutting through the din of the garage like a knife.

Her heart sank as she followed him, the weight of her McLaren cap feeling heavier than usual. She knew she had crossed a line, but the anger still burned in her chest. They entered the small, air-conditioned space, and the door slammed shut behind them. The coolness of the room was a stark contrast to the heated tension that had built up between her and the team.

"Michaela," Zak began, his voice tight with repressed emotion. "What was that out there?"

Michaela's jaw set as she stared him down. "I was racing. What did you expect?"

Zak's eyes flashed with anger, but he took a deep breath before responding. "I expect a team player, Michaela. Someone who follows orders, not a loose cannon endangering our strategy and our drivers' positions."

Michaela's eyes narrowed. "My tires were gone. The strategy was already ruined when you kept me out under the safety car. I was fighting for what I had left."

"And in doing so, you compromised Lando's race," he fired back. "We had a plan, and you threw it out the window."

Michaela's hands flailed at her sides. "A plan that was flawed from the start!" she retorted. "My tires were shot. You knew that. And yet, you made me stay out, and for what? Sixth place?" She huffed as her arms crossed over her chest. "I was in a podium position before you threw it all away!"

Zak leaned forward, his palms flat on the desk. "You know the politics of this sport, Mick. Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for the greater good. For the team."

Michaela felt the anger bubbling up again, refusing to understand his point. "I'm aware," she said through gritted teeth. "But you don't sacrifice your faster driver to play tag with the others."

Zak's eyes searched hers, trying to read the emotions behind her brown eyes. "You need to learn to trust us, Mick. We're all in this together."

Michaela took a deep breath, the adrenaline of the race still coursing through her veins. "I do trust you," she said, her voice strained. "But I'm not going to be the sacrificial lamb every time the strategy doesn't play out perfectly. You know what I’m capable of doing completely on my own in the car. You keep sacrificing my race knowing that I’ll pull points out of my arse every time."

"This isn't about strategy," Zak's voice was firm. "It's about following orders. You had a direct order to hold position, and you disobeyed."

Michaela felt the heat rising to her cheeks. "I was fighting for a podium," she said, her voice low. "You took that away from me and parked me behind Lando. Meanwhile, Ocon's up my arse for 10 laps." She paused, her eyes boring into Zak's. "What would you have done?"

Zak leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "What I expect from you is to be a professional, to respect the team's decisions, and to bring home the points we need." He paused, his gaze never wavering. "If you can't do that, then maybe McLaren isn't the right place for you."

The words hung in the air, a silent bomb that exploded in her chest. The room felt smaller, the air thicker with each beat of her racing heart. "Is that a threat?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Zak's gaze was unwavering. "It's a reality check," he said firmly. "We need drivers who are willing to work as part of the team. If you can't do that, then we'll have to consider other options for next season."

Michaela's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. She knew her value in the sport. Her talent had taken her to the pinnacle of motorsport, and she wasn't about to let a bad strategy call and a poorly-handled team order ruin her career. "Other options?" she repeated, her voice like a coiled spring ready to snap. "Like who? Latifi?" She scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

Zak's expression remained stoic. "Don't push me, Michaela," he warned. "You're not the only one with offers on the table."

Michaela's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and defiance. "Is that right?" she retorted. "Well, maybe it's time we had a real conversation about my ‘offers’."

The room grew tense as the unspoken words hung in the air. She knew her worth and wasn't about to let them push her around. McLaren was not Ferrari and she was two years removed from the conversation that haunted her every moment of every day. The stakes were high, but so was her pride.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she glanced down to see a call from Jenson. She quickly silenced it, knowing she couldn't deal with him right now. The urge to throw something across the room was strong, but she had to keep her cool. Instead, she turned her focus back to the stern face of Zak Brown.

"Look, I know I screwed up," she admitted, her voice tight with tension. "But I had to do something. If you can't see that, then I'm not sure why you keep me here."

Zak's expression didn't soften. "You're here because you're fast, Mick. But speed alone doesn't win championships. You need to learn to work with the team. We're not at the top yet, and to get there you and Lando will need each other."

Michaela took a moment to digest his words. The truth stung, but she knew he wasn't wrong. "Fine," she said, her voice tight. "But you can't expect me to just accept being held back like that. It's not right for either of us."

"We're a team, Mick," Zak's tone had softened slightly. "We win together, we lose together. Sometimes that means making tough calls. But you have to trust that we're making them for the greater good."

Michaela took a deep breath, the fight draining from her. "I get it," she said, though her voice was filled with the weight of her disappointment. "But you have to understand how it feels when you're out there, fighting for something that you know you could have easily had."

Zak's eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of understanding. "We all want the same thing," he said, his voice softer now. "We want to win. But we can't do it alone."

Michaela nodded, the anger subsiding into a dull ache. "I know," she said, her voice a whisper. "But sometimes it feels like I'm fighting Lando's battles and not my own."

Zak leaned back in his chair, his face etched with concern. "You're both important to this team, Mick. We need both of you firing on all cylinders. But you're right, we can't keep playing this game of musical chairs with you two. We'll sit down after the season, review what happened today, and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"After the season?" She whispered, eyes shining in disbelief. With a steadying breath, she chose her next words carefully. "My contract expires in Abu Dhabi. If you can't make up your mind, like I said, I have options."

Zak's gaze sharpened. "Your contract is our top concern. Focus on the races ahead, and we'll talk about priorities before the season’s over." His tone was final, but the flicker of doubt in his eyes was not lost on her.

Michaela nodded, swiping a stray curl from her forehead. "Fine," she said, her voice tight. "But if I'm going to be fighting for the team, I need the team to fight for me."

Zak nodded, his gaze still doubtful. "I understand," he said. "Now go cool off, and we'll talk more after the race weekend."

Michaela turned and left the office, her heart racing as she walked through the garage. The sounds of the team working on the cars echoed around her, but she was in her own world, lost in thought. Her relationship with McLaren had always been complicated, but she had never felt so at odds with them before. She knew her disobedience was a risk, but she couldn't just sit back and watch her chances slip away without a fight.

The paddock was a blur of sponsor banners and team personnel as she made her way back to her motorhome. She needed to be alone, to think. The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against it, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She felt the weight of the team's disappointment and the fear of what her future might hold.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lando.

What the fuck was that???

His anger was palpable through the screen. She rolled her eyes, typing a quick response.

Piss off.

But she didn't hit send. Instead, she tossed the phone on the couch and stalked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. The cool liquid did little to ease the heat of anger and frustration burning within her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to center herself. When she opened them again, she saw her reflection in the chrome of the fridge door, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across her face.

Her thoughts were a tumultuous storm, swirling with the memories of the race, the team's betrayal, and the looming conversation with Jenson she hadn't had the guts to take. She knew he would understand her anger, her need to push back. But she also knew he'd be worried about her, about her being distracted.

Michaela took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. Her heart was racing, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. She had to call him back, had to explain. She couldn't ignore his messages forever. She picked up the phone and dialed his number, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly as the promise of his warm British accent eased her racing mind.

"Hey," she began, her voice softer than she had intended.

"Hey," Jenson's voice was filled with concern. "What happened out there? I watched the whole thing. That podium was right there."

Michaela sighed, leaning against the cool metal of the fridge. "You know how it goes," she said, trying to keep the anger from her voice. "Team orders. Fucked strategy."

"They're not always right, love," Jenson said gently. "But you've got to play the game."

Michaela scoffed. "I know," she said, the frustration clear in her voice. "But when you're out there, and you know you can win, it's hard to hold back."

"I get it," Jenson said, his voice soothing. "But you're smarter than that. You know you can't win them all."

Michaela took a sip of water, the cold liquid barely quenching the venom in her voice. "This one was so close," she said, the anger still raw. "Until they decided to throw it away so I could help Lando out."

"You know it's not personal, Mick," Jenson said, his voice a gentle reminder of the harsh reality of the sport. "It's just business."

Michaela nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Yeah, I know," she replied, her voice tight. "But it feels personal when I'm the one left holding all the blame."

"They're just trying to manage the situation, love," Jenson's voice was calm and rational, a learned approach to the storm of emotions swirling within her. "You know how it is. Sometimes you have to make the tough calls."

Michaela's grip on the water bottle tightened. "But why me?" she demanded, the frustration bubbling over. "Why am I always the one who has to make the sacrifice?"

"Because you're the strongest, Michaela," Jenson's voice was firm. "You can handle it. You're the one who can bring home the points they need."

Michaela let out a frustrated sigh, her grip on the water bottle loosening slightly. "It just doesn't feel fair," she murmured.

"I know," Jenson said sympathetically. "But you're in a tough position. You're fighting for yourself and for the team. Sometimes those goals don't align."

Michaela nodded, her reflection in the fridge door looking tired and defeated. "I just don't know if I can keep doing this," she whispered. "The season's barely started and I'm already fighting the team just to do the things I know I can."

Jenson's voice grew more serious. "You're not alone in this, Mick. You've got me, you've got Guido, and you've got options. Don't let them push you around."

Michaela felt a glimmer of hope in the pit of her stomach. Options. She had options. And she wasn't going to let McLaren bully her into second place behind Lando. She took a deep breath, feeling the coolness of the motorhome's air-conditioning on her flushed cheeks. "I know," she said, her voice stronger. "I'll talk to Guido, and see what he thinks."

Guido was her loyal manager, a shrewd Italian with a keen sense of Formula 1 politics. He'd been her rock since the early days, navigating her through the treacherous waters of contract negotiations and political games. If anyone could help her figure this out, it was him.

Michaela took a moment to compose herself before calling him. "Guido," she began, her voice a mix of frustration and determination. "We need to talk."

Guido's response was measured. "Hello to you too, Michaela."

"You watched the race," she stated, not bothering with pleasantries. "Where do I go from here?"

Guido's sigh was audible over the line. "You've got two choices, cara. You either suck it up and deal with it, or you start looking elsewhere."

Michaela's eyes narrowed as she paced the small space of the motorhome. "Looking elsewhere isn't exactly ideal, is it?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Ideal is relative in this business," Guido said, his tone unwavering. "But if you're not happy, you can't perform. And if you're not performing, the team won't be happy either. It's a delicate balance."

Michaela stopped pacing, her eyes focused on a point in the middle of the floor. "I know," she said, her voice tight. "But what do I do now?"

Guido was silent for a moment, the crackle of the line the only sound between them. "You've got a good relationship with the team," he said finally. "But you can't let them push you around like this. You need to sit down with Zak, with the team, and lay out your expectations. Make it clear that you're here to win, not just to make up the numbers."

Michaela nodded, her mind racing. "And if they don't listen?" She asked, the fire of defiance burning in her eyes.

Guido's response was swift and firm. "Then we explore those other options," he said. "But for now, focus on the next race. Show them that you're not just defiant to be defiant. Prove your worth, and the power will shift back in your favor."

Michaela nodded, the gravity of the situation settling in her bones. "Alright," she said, her voice a mix of frustration and resolve. "I'll talk to them, lay it out. But if it doesn't change, then we're looking elsewhere."

Guido's response was swift and firm. "Good," he said. "I'm tired of the dreadful UK weather, to be honest, this might be a good change for us." He chuckled with an air of mischief to his words.

Michaela managed a small smile. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she cautioned, though the thought of a change was tempting. "First, I need to have that talk with Zak. And then we'll see where it goes from there."

Guido's chuckle turned serious. "Just remember, you're the asset here, not them. Don't let them forget it."

Michaela took another deep breath, feeling a surge of determination. "I won't," she promised, ending the call. She took a moment to collect herself before walking out of the motorhome, ready to face the media and the team with a newfound sense of resolve.

The press pen was a minefield of questions about her decision to ignore team orders and the state of her relationship with Lando. She navigated them with a calmness she didn't feel, keeping her answers short and focused on the race ahead. When asked about her future with McLaren, she replied with a polished smile, "I'm committed to giving my all to the team this season. After that, we'll see what the future holds."

Once the press conference concluded, she sought refuge in the team's garage, surrounded by the familiar hum of her car being dissected by engineers. Rob, her trusted engineer, met her with a furrowed brow. "What's the damage?" she asked, referring not just to her car, but to her standing within the team.

"It's... a bit tense," Rob said, his voice tight. "But let's focus on the positives. Your driving was phenomenal, especially that move on Esteban. You really showed your grit."

Michaela nodded, acknowledging the compliment, but the conversation with Guido played in her mind like a broken record. Her future in McLaren was no longer a given. "I know," she said, her voice steady. "But I need to speak with Zak and Andreas again. I can't keep doing this."

"You're not wrong," Rob admitted, his eyes on the data screens. "But timing is everything. Give it a day or two, let the dust settle."

Michaela nodded, though she wasn't convinced. The sting of today's race was still fresh, and the thought of waiting only added to the frustration boiling in her veins. "I'm sorry for putting you in that position," she said, her voice genuine. "I got caught up in my frustration and took out on you. I'm sorry."

Rob gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Mick," he said, his eyes lifting from their focus on the screens. "And just between the two of us, I would've done the same thing." The show of support was accented with a cheeky wink, a silent laugh escaping through their noses in amusement.

Michaela couldn't help but feel a little relieved by his understanding, but the weight of the day's events didn't entirely lift. She nodded, taking another deep breath. "Thanks, Rob," she said, her voice sincere. "I just need to figure out what's next."

"You've got this," Rob said, patting her on the shoulder before returning to the car. She watched him for a moment, his movements efficient and focused. Then, with a sigh, she turned and made her way out of the garage, back into the glaring lights of the paddock.

[mazuwii]

@quiveringdeer I couldn’t find a good photo where she was running on the wheel, but she’s always smiling like this, which is the initial thought of how Reiner would look with his tongue stuck out

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[redwing4life]

Home Cooked Meal

CHAPTER 4 | ASHES TO EMBERS

can be read as a stand alone :)

PAIRING: Firefighter!Neighbour!Bucky x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Smut (finally) - dirty talk, pet names, oral f and m receiving, fingering, tit play, praise kink, hand kink?, ball play, hair pulling, unprotected PinV sex, aftercare, reader and bucky have dinner, swearing, fluff, let me know if i missed anything!

SUMMARY: You surprise Bucky with a home cooked meal after his shift, and it’s the best damn thing he’s had in years. The pasta was pretty good too.

WORD COUNT: 10550 (ngl i rechecked this three times cuz i didn’t think i wrote this much but turns out i did in fact write over 10k words im sorry lmao)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER // NEXT CHAPTER

Call me when you get home x

Your text still sits on Bucky’s lock screen, read but not opened, as he gets changed out of his work clothes.

It’s fair to say that the message intrigued him when he first read it half an hour ago, just before he left the firehouse. His legs sped up your building stairwell faster than normal, desperate to find out why you’re awaiting his call.

Knowing you would have said so if you were in immediate danger, Bucky sifts through the multitude of possibilities that await him on the other side of the ring tone; none of which ease the butterflies in his stomach.

He walks to his kitchen, phone in hand, to get a glass of orange juice. Pulling up your contact page, he presses ‘call’ and grabs the carton of juice from the fridge door.

You answer after just one ring, eager to hear his voice.

“Hey, Barnes!” God, Bucky loves your voice.

“Doll.” His voice is soft, tone rising at the end with curiosity. “You asked me to call, what’s up?”

The firefighter swoons at the adorable giggle you let out, the sound distant from the mic as though you’ve tried to hide it. “I was worried you didn’t see my text.” You admit.

Bucky pictures you biting your lip anxiously, an accurate prediction for your current state.

“What are you doing right now?”

Glancing down at the yet-to-be-filled glass in front of him, Bucky leans a hand against the kitchen island. “Just about to get a drink, what are-“

“Don’t!” You cut in. “Don’t get a drink, I need you to come over.”

“What, now? What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, James. Just come knock, okay? I’ll see you in a minute!”

And with that, the call cuts off with a dull beep; Bucky brings the phone down from his ear and stares at it in confusion. You’re being weird, never having hung up on him like that before.

Alpine meows from above the fridge, drawing her owner’s attention away from the phone, only to tilt her head at him.

Even Alps is confused.

Deciding to just do what you told, Bucky slips his phone into the pocket of his dark jeans, returns the orange juice to the fridge and sets off for the front door. He finds himself checking over his appearance in the entry way mirror, eyes scanning over his outfit before he smooths out his hair.

Although he won’t admit it, Bucky’s spent a lot more time in front of that mirror lately; checking his collar isn’t twisted, his hair isn’t too messy and there’s nothing stuck in his teeth. The need to look good, to look good for you, hasn’t gone unnoticed by his colleagues.

He considers using the spare key you gave him and letting himself into your apartment but shakes the thought away.

She asked you to knock, Bucky. Not break in.

With one final nod in the mirror, Bucky leaves his apartment, stepping into the hallway he’s spent so many mornings and nights in with you.

Old jazz music greets his ears when he approaches your door, the soft melody sneaking through the cracks of the door frame. Bucky smiles to himself at the thought of you dancing in your kitchen, heart warming when he notices your humming.

Knocking thrice, the firefighter steps back and nervously stuffs his hands into his pockets. You always make him nervous, those darn butterflies stirring in his stomach whenever he’s about to see you. And when he does see you. Actually, they’re there even when he imagines seeing you.

He takes a breath when he hears you shuffling up to the door, but nothing could prepare him for the sight when it swings open.

Rusty red fabric flows from your neckline to the middle of your thighs, small flowers dotted over the slightly orange colour. Two thin straps perched on your shoulders leave plenty of skin on show as your usual sun-pendant necklace sits between the v-neck of your dress. Which, by the way, perfectly presents the soft swell of your breasts.

It takes everything Bucky has to not drool at his breathtaking neighbour, but it takes even more to not dive on you and finally taste those pink lips.

Your skin is ablaze beneath his eyes and you revel in his reaction, the exact response you wanted when you pulled on the dress two hours ago.

“We’re matching.” You grin, taking a moment to enjoy Bucky’s red henley.

“It’s almost like we planned it.” A chuckle escapes him, eyes trailing up from your thighs to meet yours.

“Speaking of plans,” You reach out to pull Bucky closer, tugging his forearms until he pulls his hands out of his pockets, “I have a surprise for you.”

Is it letting me look at you in that dress all evening? Your neighbour thinks - hopes - as you lead him into your apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you take his hand in yours once more to guide him to your little kitchen/diner area. If you weren’t looking ahead, you’d see Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink at your touch. Seeing your hand encompassed with his own will never fail to drive him crazy.

When he eventually looks up from your joined hands, he’s stunned to a halt. You turn back to him when you feel him plant his feet and your features twist into a nervous expression.

“I- Doll, what is all this?” The firefighters eyes are wide at your ‘surprise’.

Your small dining table is set up for two; cream place mats lay beneath charcoal gray pasta dishes with wine glasses sitting at their corners. There’s even a little vase with pink and yellow tulips in between the two spaces.

“Well, remember that time when you told me you haven’t had a proper home cooked meal in years?” You watch Bucky closely as you speak, waiting for some sign of approval.

“You mean this morning?” He turns to you in wonder, thinking back to your conversation as he gave you a lift to the cafe. “I don’t know what to say, doll.”

You roll back on your heels, hands scrunching your dress at your sides. “Is it okay? I know it’s a little cheesy and it’s last minute but I thought it would be a nice surprise for you after working all day. I mean, it’s not exactly at your home but it’s pretty cl-“

Bucky takes two long strides towards you and brings his hands to cup your cheeks; your words die on your tongue when he looks down at you with tender eyes.

“It’s perfect, Y/n.” He smiles, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone. “You could feed me Alpine’s food and i’d still bow at your feet, sweets.”

Now you’re the one blushing. You heart skips when Bucky’s eyes drop to your lips with hunger in his gaze.

“Always so good to me, aren’t ya?” His words tempt a whimper from deep within you, a submissive whine held back by the last of your restraint.

“Well-“

The oven beeps, its sharp tone darting between your bodies and making you step back from Bucky’s hold.

“Uhh” Your mind is all over the place as the firefighter watches you with amusement, “I- I should, I mean- the pasta must be-“

“Go, doll.” Bucky shakes his head laughing quietly.

Your dress sways as you spin away to the stove, stirring various pots and tidying up the counters. Your neighbour watches you in awe, unashamedly enjoying the view; you just look so goddamn sexy in that cute little dress while you cook for him. He wishes he could come home to this every night.

“You need a hand with anything, doll?” Bucky’s voice sounds from behind you.

“Actually, yeah!” You glance over your shoulder. “Come here.”

If you keep bossing him about, Bucky’s gonna struggle not to tear that sweet little sundress right off you.

Settling in at your side, Bucky cocks his head. “What d’ya need?”

You scoop some of the creamy tomato sauce onto a spoon and bring it to Bucky’s lips. “Try this for me.”

With bated breath, you watch his full lips wrap around the end of the spoon, his eyes bearing into yours as he drags the sauce into his mouth.

Bucky has no business looking as dirty as he does in this moment; you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows before his tongue juts out to catch a few missed drops. And just when you thought your panties would survive the sight, a moan ripples from his throat and you clench around nothing at the sound.

“Good?” You murmur, hoping he doesn’t notice when you cross your legs.

He notices.

“Delicious,” Bucky takes the spoon from your hand and stretches across you to place it back in the pan, his right hand brushing against the small of your back, “you did great, sweets.”

Fuck. Me.

You regather your composure and ask Bucky to get the wine from the fridge. He pours you both a glass, setting them back on the dining table gently before returning the bottle to its home.

“Hey, could you bring the bowls over, please?” You call over your shoulder.

You plate up the sauce coated pasta while Bucky places the dirty pans in the sink, both working around each other like a fine tuned machine.

Before you can do it yourself, Bucky is picking up the bowls and laying them on the place mats, winking at you as he does so. He pulls your chair out for you, nodding for you to join him.

“For you, Madame.” He jokes, allowing you to sit down while tucking you in.

You watch him round the table and take his own seat. “And they say chivalry is dead.”

Bucky grins at you. The orange glow of sunset shines through your windows, catching your features with grace. Your eyes shine beneath the light and Bucky can’t help but find you angelic.

“You’re beautiful, doll. I don’t know if I said that earlier but, god, you look stunning tonight.”

Dropping your head, you play with the hem of your dress shyly. Your hair falls into your face, forcing you to push it behind your ears, though Bucky wishes he was close enough to do it himself.

With rose tinted cheeks, you look up at Bucky through your lashes. “You say that to all your neighbours, Barnes?” You raise a brow with your teasing voice.

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily, a sound you’ve come to adore.

“Only the ones who cook for me.” He winks.

“Doesn’t Ms Scott bring you pies every couple weeks?”

“And I tell her she looks ravishing every time.”

You giggle and tell Bucky to dig in, though you could happily sit and talk all night. While you both stop every now and then for a forkful of food, conversation bounces between you as it always does.

Tonight isn’t much different to a typical evening with the firefighter next door; usually you share some snacks and beers, cozying up on the couch as you watch tv. It’s become ritual for you to send Bucky a video of you playing the piano each evening, his phone playing the video on loop as he sleeps. It’s strange, but the music creeps into his dreams and keeps them peaceful, keeps him away from that burning building.

It’s been a few weeks since the night he was sent home early. Both you and Bucky felt a shift that night; waking up in his arms left you craving more, though you’ve yet to tell him as much. You left him sleeping peacefully that morning when you left for work with only a couple hours of sleep under your belt.

Bucky hated waking up to find the other side of his bed empty, no longer feeling your heat. The note you left him eased the disappointment slightly, your neat handwriting promising to come back in your breaks. Neither of you have addressed how right it felt to sleep beside each other that night, despite spending all of your free time together with unspoken words hanging over you.

Instead, you dance around each other like two ghosts doomed to never touch. The bond between you is stronger than any you’ve ever had, the magnetic lure undeniable for you both.

Your glasses have been emptied and refilled twice now - dinner long since been finished - and you’re starting to feel the buzz; those butterflies in your stomach have turned into a swarm of confidence, your brain taking a backseat from its usual overthinking.

“You expect me to believe that you broke down the door before Sam could? The same guy who beat you at your physical a few weeks back?” You tease the brunette, a challenging brow raised at his rather unimpressed face.

“What are you trying to say there, doll?”

Bucky’s jaw clenches when you tilt your head slightly, eyes shining with amusement beneath the exposed hanging light bulbs.

“Nothing to worry your cute little head about.” You watch Bucky relax into his chair slightly as you reach for your glass with a smirk. “Just that I doubt Sam has any difficulty kicking a door down, not with the way he’s built.”

The scoff to end all scoffs ripples from your neighbours throat; his bright blue orbs glare into you and his features twist into a scowl. Oh if looks could kill…

Bucky’s tone is flat, “Didn’t know you were such an admirer of Wilson’s build, Y/n.”

The lack of a pet name sends your confidence wavering, but not enough to keep you from having a little fun.

“Well, you know,” You bring the glass to your lips, “he’s hardly difficult to miss.”

Watching the deep ruby liquid pass over your lips, Bucky fights to hide the fury that’s flooding his veins, forced to look away from your smug grin.

He knows, he knows, that you’re lying through your teeth, trying to get a rise out of his usually impenetrable facade, and yet he can’t help but feel jealous.

Bucky’s painfully aware that he has no right to feel so possessive, not when he lays no claim to you. But the twist of his stomach is proof that he doesn’t much care.

“Maybe I should just give you his number and you can cook him a meal next time.” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, that’s alright, I already have his number.”

You’ve never seen Bucky’s head snap up as quickly as it just did, his gaze pinning you to your spot.

“You what?”

Gently, you place your glass back on the table. “Yeah, Steve gave him my number last week so he could get in touch.”

The fire in those blue eyes burns brighter with each word, his body so still that his chest is barely moving when he breathes. In fact, you’re not even sure if he is breathing. Hell, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing.

“Is that right?” Bucky’s gruff voice is laced with possessiveness, the low tone travelling straight to your panties till you swear you feel yourself throb. You wonder briefly if you have a jealousy kink and the sweet arousal dripping from your cunt only confirms your suspicions.

“Mhm.” You hum in response, “In fact, i’m going out for coffee with him next week.”

“Huh.”

Bucky’s chair screeches against the hardwood floor as he pushes himself back. You follow his movements with amused eyes when he stands up and grabs your plates before storming to the kitchen. You twist in your chair, watching him place the dishes in the sink and flick on the tap.

“James, what are you doing?” You ask.

“What does it look like i’m doing?” Oh he’s grumpy, grumpy.

Bucky’s shoulders are tense beneath his tight henley, his sleeves now rolled up as he starts scrubbing at the plates. It’s quiet while he concentrates on his work, only accompanied by the music still flowing from your speaker.

From the corner of his eye, the firefighter sees you rise from your chair, ears honed in on the sound of your feet pattering towards him.

It’s now hard for Bucky to focus on anything but your breath on his neck, goosebumps littered across his skin like a rash. You stand right behind him, tracing your fingers up from the small of his back; Bucky’s muscles tense momentarily before melting at your touch, just like always.

“Ask me why i’m seeing Sam next week.” You order, hands still roaming the taut fabric on Bucky’s back. The command makes him pause and clench his eyes shut. Why are you making him talk about this when it’s tearing him apart?

The brunette turns in your hold but you don’t release him, instead settling your hands on his waist.

“Why are you seeing him, doll?” Bucky sounds despondent, brows furrowed in confusion as he looks down at you.

“He asked me to teach his nephews to play the piano, Buck. I’m meeting him and the boys on Wednesday, Sarah too.”

A shocked ‘What’ tumbles from his lips as the information sinks in, his frown slowly falling away as he processes your words.

“Yeah…” You grin, though it’s more like a smirk, content with yourself proving he was jealous.

In a desperate attempt to save his ego, Bucky rolls his eyes playfully. “I knew you weren’t really attracted to that dumbass.”

You scoff and pat his chest lightly. “Sure you did, Barnes. Now scoot, you wash ‘em, i’ll dry ‘em.”

With his hands on his hips, he stays still as you nudge your way to his side, stretching to the window sill where your dish towels lay. Bucky’s never been in this position before, it’s always him who’s teasing you; this is new territory for him and it irks him that you riled him up so easily.

Once he shakes his head clear, the firefighter returns to face the sink and starts washing the dishes again. You wait patiently while he works, humming along to whichever song is playing.

“You like the old stuff, huh doll?” Bucky grins warmly at the slight sway of your hips, your radiance beaming like a lantern.

You giggle sheepishly and bite your lip, unknowingly sending Bucky spiralling. “I thought it was fitting for tonight, really leaning into the whole ‘housewife’ role.”

He raises a brow, “Does that make me your doting husband then, sweets?”

Realising what you said, your cheeks heat up instantly and your eyes widen. You attempt to backtrack but your words stumble over one another as though you’re a little school girl.

Bucky, however, is basking in the familiarity of control; your rosy cheeks never fail to bring a smile to his face, and boy is he beaming right now.

“I meant- It’s- You know what I meant, James.” You shoot daggers at him, though the idea of being married to your neighbour sends your heart into overdrive.

That swoon-worthy laugh greets your ears with haste, Bucky’s eyes crinkled at the corners as his chest reverberates with its force. It’s impossible to bite back the grin that’s fighting its way onto your lips.

Small tendrils of chestnut hair tumble from behind his ears, begging to be pushed back, but the buzz from the wine has dulled and you can’t find the confidence to do it, no matter how much Bucky’s eyes are pleading you to.

“You know, it’s sweet of you to teach the boys how to play.” He looks at you in adoration, the image of you spending time with Sam’s nephews triggering a warmth to spread in his chest.

A breathy laugh escapes you as your gaze falls to the kitchen counter. You blush at the compliment and slowly start drying the dishes again.

“Do you spend much time with them?” You ask with a brief glance his way.

Bucky shrugs, “Yeah, Sarah is always throwing barbecues for the squad. They’re good kids, and I bet they’ll love you!”

“Oh God, I hope so. I’ve never taught before and i’m scared they’ll hate me and i’ll destroy their dreams and-” You ramble away without noticing the frown tugging at your neighbours brows.

“Teach me.”

Huh?

“What?” You freeze.

“You said you’ve never taught before,” Bucky steps closer to you, his cologne swarming around you like a warm hug, “so practise on me. Teach me something.”

You almost laugh at his words, mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that he’s joking. But Bucky doesn’t move, his blue eyes study your own, body so still that you fail to conjure a laugh. He’s not joking.

Hesitation is written across your features, drawing a single shake of Bucky’s head. “Come on, sweets. Please? For me?” He pleads.

“Okay.”

It’s scary how quickly you succumb to Bucky’s wishes; you fear you’d do awful things if only he asked and you’d even do it with a smile. You’re so doomed.

With a triumphant grin, Bucky plucks the dish cloth and plate from your grasp and carefully places them on the sink’s edge, before taking your hand in his and guiding you to your piano.

Nerves prickling beneath your skin, you trail behind him and silently revel in his touch. It’s hard to not stare at his perfect body as you stumble around furniture, the sharp muscles of his shoulders rippling as he tugs you with him. Flicking off the speaker on the way, you fall onto the small piano stool beside Bucky, and with such little room, your left thigh is pressed up against his. The solid curve of his muscles prod into your flesh and yet despite the fluttering it causes in your stomach, you’re far more focused on his hands.

From the bulge of his toned biceps to the trail of prominent veins in his forearms, your eyes drag down Bucky’s arms till you pause at the sight of his large hands. They lay spread across the span of his thighs, his right pinky finger mere atoms away from your exposed skin where your dress has ridden up. You find yourself craving the sparks that alight with his touch, so you adjust your position to make sure your leg brushes against his hand.

It certainly hasn’t gone amiss to the firefighter that you’ve taken a liking to his hands. Sure, he’s caught you staring at them before, but the hunger in your gaze right now is greater than ever.

The corner of Bucky’s lip turns up into a smirk as he reaches for your hands once more, lifting them to rest on the ivory keys of your piano.

“Wanna hear you play me something before you give me a lesson.” He admits, his words more of a demand than a question.

When you fail to respond, still caught up in scanning the crevices of his calloused hands, Bucky nudges your shoulder.

You shake your head with a dazed frown, “Huh?”

A playful chuckle falls from his pink lips, “I said play me something, sweets, before you start teachin’ me.”

You giggle sheepishly, sighing an ‘Oh’ before you gather your thoughts. Bucky returns his hands to his lap - a movement you struggle to ignore - giving you free rein of the instrument.

Running through some songs you could teach him, you settle for one of your favourites, or more accurately, one of Bucky’s favourites. The cool surface of the keys is harsh beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the Bucky-induced-heat flushing through your veins, hands stretching into place as you prepare the opening chords.

Rhythmic tones swarm around the two of you as you begin playing, masterfully dancing across the keys like it’s a second language. Your graceful motions always bring Bucky to a halt as you entrap him in your art.

He recognises the song straight away, lips turning up at the sweet melody. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he wanted to hear, you just knew. Bucky’s head feels light at the sight before him. A knowing grin has settled on your soft lips, your body ever so lightly swaying to the music, clearly getting lost the sounds.

It’s impossible not to feel the adoring stare of your neighbour, no matter how hard you try to ignore it. Warmth is pooling in the depths of your heart where it feels like you’re bleeding out, your love for Bucky forcing out the blood till the only thing circulating through your veins is him. No longer able to cope with the feelings swarming within you, your fingers abruptly stop mid song before you turn to look up at the firefighter.

“Okay, your go.” You state, but when Bucky raises a bemused brow your way, you continue to instruct him. “Come on. You’re gonna do the left hand, I’ll do the right.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Bucky chimes with a mock salute, earning him a glare.

It takes a few tries to move his fingers into the correct positions, both because he’s apparently wholeheartedly incapable of doing what you say but also because you may or may not zone out every time the veins of his hands stick out as he moves. But it’s still entirely his fault though. Entirely. ‘Maybe like 98% his fault. That’s seems fair.’ You think.

“There you go!” You cheer when the firefighter successfully plays the right notes in tandem.

“Would you look at that, not so useless after all.” Bucky winks at you and you blush lightly.

Glancing at him hopefully, you ask him to play the first chord you taught him.

“Oh, umm-“ He stutters, fingers flailing about and pressing random keys in search of the right pattern.

“Here, let me…” You chuckle sweetly at how utterly lost he looks and move to help him.

Leaning forward, you drag Bucky’s fingers over the ridges of ivorite, slowly placing them on the correct keys. You feel his lust-filled eyes trained on your face while you work, though it’s getting harder and harder to focus under his stare.

A frown tugs at your brows when your mind goes blank as to where Bucky needs to put his left hand, his still-wandering gaze burning into you and spreading to your cunt faster than you care to admit.

Of course, Bucky notices your breath quickening, chest stumbling up and down with shaky pants. His proximity is intoxicating and the will to fight it is slowly slipping past you, fingers itching to trace up Bucky’s thick arms to his neck so you can finally pull his lips to yours.

Bucky reads every inch of your skin like he’s studying for an exam. From the clench of your jaw to your eyes fluttering shut, he knows that he’s winning this tussle for control.

“Bucky…” You breathe, the wavering sigh rolling from your tongue like a stray secret.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky smirks with glinting eyes and you bite back a whimper.

Opening your eyes, you keep them trained on where yours rest on his. “I can’t focus with you looking at me like that.”

Bucky knows exactly what you mean but he can’t help but toy with you. “Like what?” He cocks his head with faux innocence that fools no one.

You turn to look up at the firefighter, eyes meeting his half lidded ones, the blue of his eyes barely visible behind his lust-blown pupils but the blue you can see is so impossible dark that you wonder if they were ever light in the first place.

Taking a breath, you wet your lips so briefly that Bucky nearly misses it. Nearly. “Like you want to kiss me.” You say, barely above a whisper.

“Oh,” Bucky sighs, leaning in closer, “I want to do much more than that.”

Your body is alight with need. Craving his touch, a breach of the barrier between you, you practically whine your reply. “Then why are you just staring?”

“Well, I wanna remember you like this; sweet, angelic, so perfect in your little sundress.“

With the back of his hand, Bucky nudges the hem of your dress higher till his whole hand is spread against your thigh. You quash the aching desire to glance at where your bodies meet and lock your eyes on Bucky’s, whose lips are turned into a knowing smirk.

“Gotta savour it while I can.” He says as he pushes his palm further to your inner thigh, his pinky finger mere inches from your heat.

“Why?” You ask, heart racing.

It dawns on you that you may actually pass out when the firefighter leans in close to you, nose pushing your hair aside to expose the soft skin of your neck which now sits defenceless to his advances. The heat of his breath is electrifying, lips nearing your pulse point eagerly.

Bucky’s lips ghost over your skin as he explains, “Cause once I’ve had my way with you, you’re gonna be a hot fucking mess, sweets.”

A breathy moan tumbles from the depths of you chest at the crude insinuations of his words; your eyes flutter shut, an unintentional reaction that you’re grateful for as it hides the way your pupils roll to the back of your head.

Through the dark span of your eyelids, you picture exactly how Bucky will make you a hot fucking mess. Spread legs with his tongue delving through your folds, back arched as he pounds into your pussy with vigour, his hands guiding your hips back to meet his as he fucks you from behind. The images bear too much for you yet you can’t stop picturing the salacious scenes, not when your neighbour is pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“James…” You sigh, voice carrying the weight of a thousand pleas.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

Nodding your head desperately, you whine, unable to form any words beneath his sinful tongue.

“Words, doll.” Bucky says, lips hovering over your ear. He’s struggling to hold back but can’t let himself touch you the way he wants to until he hears you spell it out for him.

Turning your head slowly, you peer at Bucky with half-lidded eyes and a slack-jaw. “I want you, James. Please.”

That’s all it takes to disintegrate the final remnants of the firefighter’s self-control before his full lips meet your own with a hunger that’s been brewing for months.

Bucky’s lips glide across yours, slotting between your own so easily it’s got you believing this is not your first kiss. It’s soft and sweet but so goddamn sensual that you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the now open gap giving him the perfect chance to slide his tongue inside.

You bring your hands up Bucky’s body and rest them on his neck, fingers tentatively feeding through the hair at the nape of his neck while you jostle for control of the kiss.

Forced to pull back for breath, you take a peek only to find those strikingly blue eyes already on yours.

“Fuck, doll,” Bucky whispers, “you don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this.”

“Probably not as long as I have.” You scoff.

“Then let me make up for lost time.”

“Wait, what do y-“

Within moments, Bucky is lifting your legs over the bench and is knelt between them, his large hands teasing the hem of your dress as he keeps your thighs spread apart.

Your mouth is agape with surprise while you grab onto the piano behind you for stability, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. And as if he can read your anxious thoughts, Bucky looks up at you with the most sincere expression across his soft features.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks, despite the deep desire shining in his eyes. He wants you more than anything, but he needs to know you want him too.

It’s an easy answer and you’re shaking your head faster than you care to admit, but the memory of Bucky’s prior words flash through your mind and you still just as quick.

“No.”

Watching intently as he runs a hand from your ankle up to your knee, the firefighter rolls his bottom lip between his teeth when your breath hitches.

“Then promise me you’ll tell me if that changes?” Bucky asks.

You reach down and run your fingers through his chestnut locks, tucking the few loose strands behind his ear.

“I promise.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweets.”

A hearty laugh reverberates through you, but you’re quickly silenced by Bucky’s lips on your inner thigh, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. He kisses his way up to your heat, slowly pushing your dress higher and higher till the only thing between you and his mouth is the crimson lace panties covering your mound.

A sound you can only describe as a growl ripples through the room and you glance down at your neighbour to find him practically drooling at the sight of you. But then his eyes are on yours, his hungry, half-lidded eyes, and he’s tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Your breathing becomes laboured at his touch, your body, your mind, all of you at his mercy.

“Bucky, please…”

“Ah ah ah-“ The firefighter tuts, “-since when do you call me Bucky?”

You frown, back arching slightly in search of some friction on your core, too aroused to process his words properly.

“Look at me, Y/n.”

The stern nature of his tone lures your eyes to his once more. “What?” You ask, confused.

“I haven’t spent months goin’ crazy listening to you use my name only to have you call me Bucky when I’m finally between your legs.”

The throb of your pussy spurs you on and you tilt your head teasingly. “Touch me, James.” You say, and he obeys.

Bucky glides his hands up to your hips and drags your panties lower and lower, his lips chasing the lace till there’s no where left to kiss but your slick folds.

He hovers over your heat with bated breath before forcing himself to close his eyes and ask if you’re still okay with this.

“More than okay, James.” You answer truthfully.

“Good, cause I’m fucking starvin’.”

You feel his mouth on your pussy before you’ve even processed his words, tongue delving between your folds like he really is starving and you didn’t just feed him the best dinner he’s had in years. Though something tells him that title is about to be beaten the second you cum all over his face.

Your mouth curves into an ‘o’, the most pornographic of moans escaping you at the sinful sounds of Bucky’s mouth on your cunt. Drowning in increasingly intense waves of pleasure, your senses are dialled up to the max; with every flick of his tongue and suck on your clit, you find yourself falling deeper in your arousal. It becomes impossible to listen to anything Bucky’s telling you.

“Y’taste so sweet, doll.”

“Doing so good for me, aren’t ya? My good girl.”

“Let me hear you, doll, need to hear how good you feel.”

Whether it’s praises or orders, there’s no chance in hell of you understanding a word that falls from his lips, though Bucky doesn’t mind. The clench of your soft thighs around his head tells him all he needs to know - that even if your heads not fulling comprehending him, your body is. And the sheer amount of slick glistening across your cunt is enough for him to know that you’re ready for more.

The sensation of Bucky’s finger tracing along your pussy lips sends your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your hips lifting off the stool.

“James- oh fuck-“

Words die on your tongue when Bucky eases a finger inside you. White hot pleasure builds at your core, burning the last remnants of your self control, its embers coaxing a near-scream out of you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweets. That’s- shit you’re so tight, pussy’s squeezing me and it’s just one finger.”

You mewl and squirm beneath him.

“How you gonna handle two of ‘em, doll?”

Bucky’s mesmerised at the sight of his finger gliding in and out of you, drenched in your sweet juices, too beautiful of a sight for him to give up by eating you out. But when you groan at the suggestion of two fingers, he drags his gaze upwards and is greeted with a view that’s evening better.

You, draped against the piano, head tilted back and brows drawn together while uneven sighs tumble from your swollen lips. God, you look heavenly, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t realise he’s said it out loud, but it makes little difference seeing as you’re rather preoccupied with the thought of Bucky fucking another finger inside you.

“James?” You call, reaching down to cover your left hand around the one at your sex, the other tugging on his hair.

“Yeah? Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” He panics, thinking you’ve grabbed his hand to stop him.

Instead, you look him in the eye and say “Are you gunna fuck another finger inside of me or what?”

An awe-inspired grin spreads across Bucky’s face at your question. He keeps his blue orbs on yours while he presses a kiss to your clit and pushes himself higher till he’s inches from your face.

He rests a hand against the piano, caging you in and says, “Anything for my girl.” before a second digit joins his first.

The stretch knocks the wind out of your chest but Bucky hardly gives you any time to adjust, his fingers pumping in and out of you even faster than before. His palm slaps against your bundle of nerves with every thrust, the force riding to your chest where your tits bounce in rhythm.

“So damn beautiful…” The firefighter says.

You look up at him through your lashes and pull his lips to yours, tasting yourself on his tongue. With clashing teeth, the wet slapping sounds only feeds into the moment and Bucky’s suddenly very aware of the tightness in his jeans.

With each passing second, the cord in your stomach is getting so close to snapping that your mouth isn’t even moving against Bucky’s anymore.

“Fuck, James, I’m- I-“

“Shh, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You gonna cum all over my fingers, doll? Gonna let me see you fall apart?”

You nod feverishly.

“Good girl, now let go for me.”

That’s all it takes for the damn to break loose and the fiercest orgasm of your life to rack through your body. It reaches every part of you, all the cracks and crevices you never thought could be touched, yet here you are, feeling every inch of yourself set on fire.

“That’s it, doll, that’s it.” Bucky comforts you while you lay victim to the aftershocks of his work, slowing the thrust of his fingers till your breathing evens and he moves to gently circling your sensitive clit.

“Holy shit…” You sigh, a satisfied and totally fucked-out grin playing across your lips.

Noticing how your hazy your eyes still are, Bucky smiles to himself while pressing loving kisses on your forehead.

“You did real good for me, sweetheart.” He listens to you hum beneath him as he moves to kiss your temple. “Y’look so pretty when you cum, you know that? Even prettier than I imagined.”

You twist in your seat to face your neighbour. “You’ve imagined this too?”

“Every night, doll.”

“Huh…”

Though Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on yours, it’s obvious that his mind has slipped away; he’s now clouded by memories of his x-rated dreams, ones that have ended with him pumping his embarrassingly hard length into his fist one too many times, and his cock twitches in his ever-tightening pants. You notice the movement at his crotch and, emboldened by his confession and the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you decide to take back some control.

“What have you pictured doing to me, James?” Your tone is so sweet, so innocent, that it takes a moment for your words to register in his brain. But when it does, boy, does a fresh wave of blood rush to his cock.

“You sure you wanna know? Cuz it ain’t all sweet and innocent.” He warns.

You say nothing and let your actions do all the talking; you slide a hand down to meet his left, the one still nestled between your sticky thighs, and tug it away from your cunt. With your eyes locked on his, you raise Bucky’s cum coated fingers to your mouth, slowly wrapping your lips around them and sucking your sweetness away. Making sure to give the firefighter a show, you swirl your tongue around his fingers before taking them as deep as you can, a knowing look in your eyes when you notice Bucky clenching his jaw.

After releasing his fingers from your swollen red lips, you press a kiss to the palm of his hand. “Tell me.”

What you can only describe as a growl rises from the back of Bucky’s throat and before you know it, you’re being carried to your bedroom, legs bound tightly around his waist while your arms wrap loosely around his neck.

He sits down on the edge of the bed; hands resting on your hips and edging lower to your ass, his fingers grip the supple flesh to keep you in place.

His force on your hips is pushing you down on his ample bulge, sparking a flash of pleasure straight up your spine that escapes you with a moan. Bucky chuckles softly with a sinful grin as you tilt your head back at the feeling.

“You wanna know what I’ve imagined us doing, doll?” The firefighter grabs your chin to bring your attention back to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging on it and letting it bounce back into place.

“I’ve pictured us just like this.” He drops his hand to your neck, tracing the curve of your collar bone till it meets the strap of your sundress. “You, naked and beautiful as ever, riding my cock like I know you can.”

You gasp lightly when he tugs your strap till it’s tumbling off your shoulder.

“And you’re telling me just how full you are, how stretched your little pussy is around me, choking my cock like a damn vice.”

Bucky’s filthy words send your hips into motion without warning; you grind your bare cunt over his crotch, the tent in his pants settling between your slick folds till his shaft is enveloped with your warmth.

“Does that sound good, doll? To have my cock buried inside you when you bounce on it? Fuck, I bet your cunt is dripping for me again,”

“It never stopped, James.” You whimper, your sensitive clit sending jolts up your frame as Bucky guides your hips over his.

“That’s right, you’re never gonna use anything else to cum ever again. You got me now, doll. I’m all you need. Me, my cock, I’m gonna ruin everyone else for you.”

You don’t even notice that Bucky’s hands are on the zip at your back, slowly pulling it down till the fabric are your chest goes slack, and with the straps already draped over your shoulders, the flowing material cascades around you, tumbling to your hips and leaving you defenseless to Bucky’s insatiable blue eyes.

“Fuck me, sweets, you’re- god- you’re perfect.” He leans in and kisses your collarbone. “So,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “perfect.”

Your eyes flutter shut, lost in the feeling of his touch, and Bucky smirks when he sees you. He teases a hand up your soft skin till it sits just beneath your tit, daring to reach up and play with you in the ways he’s always dreamt of.

“Is this okay?” He asks, earning an even more passionate grind of your hips as you push your chest closer to his open mouth.

He chuckles, “Needy, aren’t ya, sweets?”

You whine.

“Hmm, lucky for you, this is exactly what I imagined doing to you, what I’ve dreamt of for months…”

His lips wrap around your hardened nipple with haste, the warmth of his mouth a welcome sensation. He sucks at the sensitive nub, this tongue reaching out to soothe you afterwards. You throw your head back and moan loudly.

The sound of bucky loudly licking and sucking on your tits is driving you crazy, to the point where your hips are stuttering over his, practically drowning in the feeling till you have no control over your movements.

“God, I love your tits. Wanna act out every dream I’ve ever had of you. Fucking your tits, your throat, your cunt, anywhere you’ll let me, doll, please. I’ve needed you for so long.”

You blush at the word love, surpressing the hope that is stirring at the possibility that your tits aren’t the only thing he loves. Has he really wanted this as long as me? You wonder, picturing everything he just revealed he’s been wanting.

“M’So fuckin’ hard for you sweetheart, I know you can feel me. Dick’s throbbing, doll, it’s s’hard it hurts.”

You pull at his hair so he’s looking up at you again and capture his lips in yours.

“I wanna see you, Bucky…”

He groans and reaches for the hem of his shirt which he waists no time in tearing off. Your chest rises and falls heavier than before, eyes raking his physique just like you had that night he was leaving the shower at his place.

You trail a finger down his abs till it brushes the button of his jeans teasingly.

“All of you, James.” You look pointedly at his crotch. “May I?” You ask and when he nods, you climb off his lap and sink between his legs on the floor, you dress tumbling to the ground immediately.

Bucky’s abs tense as you work to undo the button, your hands tiny in comparison to his body. Next, you work the zipper up and over the bulge of his cock, the teeth desperate to come apart after being so constricted for so long. The two sides of denim snap away from the tent of his boxers, perfectly presenting where the firefighter so badly needs your touch.

He helps you kick off his jeans till the only thing between you is his boxers. You trace a finger up and down his shaft through the cotton, enjoying the sticky patch of pre cum leaking through the top.

“Have you ever imagined me sucking your cock, James?” You ask with half lidded eyes before kissing his covered shaft. “Cause I have.”

Bucky whimpers - whimpers - at your words, his hips snapping up to your face uncontrollably.

You begin to drag down his boxers, trailing kisses down down down, your lips greeting his tip when his cock flicks up against them before your eyes even get chance to glance at him.

Your eyes flutter shut at the salty taste on your lips, revelling in the breathy moans from your neighbour.

“Fuck- pl-please honey, I need your- argh- mouth around me!”

You make eye contact with him from your place on the floor and ask if he’s sure.

“More than anything.”

And with that, you take his thick length into your mouth, lips sealing around his angry pink cock head briefly when your trace your tongue over his slit, before gliding lower down his cock.

You take as much of him as you can, but you need time to warm up having never taken a cock as large as his before.

“You’re so big, baby.” You say as you pull off his shaft with a pop, “Biggest I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

A frustrated groan arises from the firefighter and you feel his hand on the back of your head, gently pushing you to his dick once more.

“Suck my cock, doll, just like we’ve both imagined, nice and deep, please.”

You take the base of his cock in your hands and guide his tip back to your lips.

“Atta girl,” Bucky encourages as you take him deeper and deeper.

He feels you relaxing your throat to take more of him and his balls clench at the feeling.

“Argh fuck, fuck, fuck. Good girl, oh my god, yes!”

His praises and curses cheer you on and you manage as much of him as you can, only an inch or so remaining that’s simply too thick to fit in your mouth. Lord knows how he’ll fit in your pussy, but you’re sure he’ll figure it out.

You bob your head on his length over and over till you’re in desperate need of air. You let your hands work your spit and his precum up and down his hard cock while you catch your breath and watch his beautiful face contort into one of extreme pleasure.

Your chest fills with pride at Bucky’s facial expressions; making him feel good is somehow more rewarding than anything you’ve done in your life and you find yourself content at the thought of spending the rest of your days pleasing him.

Bucky is oblivious to the gratified smile toying your lips and wholly unprepared for your next movement.

“Oh god- oh fuck, doll-” He groans, his breathing staggered and eyes clenched shut when you take his balls in your mouth, the skin sloppily wet from your work on his cock, and now enjoying the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh honey, do that again, felt so go- argh!” He’s interrupted by you tending to his sack once more, your tongue swirling around them and lightly sucking.

You moan around his pretty, swollen balls, the vibrations drawing a sigh of pleasure from your neighbour. The trimmed hair at the base of Bucky’s member is tickling your nose while you fight to taste every part of him.

With a final sharp suck, you release his balls with a small plop, plant a wet kiss on each and flatten you tongue to lick a bold stripe up his length. The tip of your muscle presses into the vein on the underside of his dick and Bucky thrusts upward, his hips bucking as he desperately searches for more.

As you ready yourself to glide his cock down your throat once more, you feel Bucky’s hand on your cheek, pulling you off him.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” You ask with a concerned frown, nervous that you’ve done something wrong to have Bucky stopping you. You wrap your hand around his forearm, the one outstretched to hold your hair, while the other remains enclosed around his cock.

“Nothin’ bad, sweets, it’s just that- fuck-“

You absentmindedly stroke your thumb over his girth, a motion you intend to be comforting but in reality, it just makes him throb even harder in your hands.

“-I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep using your pretty mouth like that.”

“And that’s a problem because…?”

He laughs lightly and tucks your hair behind your ear. “Cause as hot as you’d look swallowing my load, I’d much rather cum inside that sweet pussy for our first time.”

You roll your bottom lip between your teeth before pecking a doting kiss to his forearm and letting Bucky pull you to your feet. His eyes follow yours till he’s looking up at you from his seated position, his hands falling to your hips with an awestruck face.

“What the hell did I do to deserve you?” His voice is barely above a whisper. You blush crimson.

“Get on the bed, doll.” He orders. “Lay on your back.”

You do as he says and once you’ve settled, he crawls on top of you. It’s quiet for a moment as Bucky stares lovingly down at you, burning the image into his memory to remind him he has everything he needs.

“I should have found the guts to do this months ago…” You murmur, pushing the fallen tendrils of chestnut hair behind his ear. He looks so goddamn perfect; the golden glow filtering through your window catching every feature you’ve spent so long dreaming about, and now he’s here, really here, and you can’t help but stroke his cheek with revere.

“We have now, doll. That’s enough for me.” Bucky whispers. “Are you comfortable?”

You nod, truthfully, both in terms of your position but also for what’s coming. But then his elbows bend out and he’s lowering himself onto you.

“How about now?”

There’s a gleam in his eye and a playful smirk on his lips as he watches your chest heave, your body taking more of his weight now.

“No!” You giggle.

“No? Is this better?” Bucky teases, briefly laying his whole weight over you until you paw at his shoulders to push him off.

“James! You’re squishing me!”

The melody of your carefree laughter has Bucky melting and he pushes himself up onto his hands once more. His lip is tucked between his teeth, enjoying the view as he becomes increasingly aware of his cock now just one slip away from your pussy lips.

Quickly coming to your own awareness of Bucky’s rock hard length pressing into you, you sober up.

“Darling?” You tug on his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb.

Bucky’s brows pinch closer slightly.

“I need you inside me.”

His soft lips are crashing against yours within moments, his hand fighting between the nonexistent space between your bare bodies to grasp his cock and guide his tip to your bundle of nerves.

The sudden taste of how good Bucky can make you feel forces a sharp breath from you. It’s so much yet not enough, all at the same time.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, okay? Let me take care of you how you deserve.”

After a meek nod with your hands finding refuge in Bucky’s soft locks, he trails his cock head down your pink folds till it catches on the dip of your entrance.

Bucky tempts a whimper from you as he slides inside of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his larger than average member.

“Fuck, doll, you’re so tight for me.” The firefighter moans, resisting the urge to snap his hips and bottom out completely.

You’ve yet to make a sound, the sting in your pussy not yet dissipating, and when you glance down at where your bodies meet, you realise you’re barely taking half of him.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky’s reassuring voice is ghosting over your ear, “you’re taking me so well, sweets. You need me to go slower?”

You clench your eyes shut briefly, “No, keep going, you’re just so…”

“So what?”

Bucky watches a deep red creep up your neck before returning his gaze to your eyes, that now dance across the room avoiding him.

A gentle grasp on your chin draws you to face the breathtaking man above you and you clench around his dick.

“What happened to the little minx who was practically beggin’ me to fuck her, huh? Don’t get all shy on me now, dollface. I’m so what?”

His words have you spilling yours without second thought. “You’re so fucking thick, James, cock’s splittin’ me in half.”

He groans and snaps his hips fully into yours, making you scream out, “Jamie!!!”

His scalp burns when you pull on his hair harder than before, your moans filling the room like a broken record. Bucky should be focused on the furrow of your brow, your laboured breaths, the way your cunt is choking him, anything about how perfect this feels, but all he can focus on is how with one thrust, you called him ‘Jamie’. And you didn’t just say it, you screamed it.

“Shit, honey, say it again.”

“Ja-Jamie…” You whine and feel Bucky draw his hips back before pounding into you once more.

“Again.” Your neighbour growls.

“Oh my god, fuck- I”

“Again.”

It takes everything you have to open your eyes and look at him. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

“That’s my girl.”

Bucky drives his length into you till his tip is hitting your cervix, the pleasure wrapping around your throat and squeezing the air out of you. You fight to breathe as Bucky drills into you, over and over, softly grunting with every thrust.

“Never felt anything as good as your cunt before, doll. Wanna spend the rest of my life buried inside you.”

You pull his lips to yours and, back arching from the mattress, dive your tongue into his mouth with vigour. He lets you explore his mouth while fucking you deep and fast, the headboard of your bed slamming against the wall and probably driving your neighbour crazy. Oh wait, he is your neighbour, and it is driving him crazy, but in the best way imaginable.

“So goddamn tight, sweets, y’pussy was made for me,” He swallows your whimpers happily, “don’t you think? You feel how good i’m filling you up, honey? Sliding in an’ out so easy, you’re so fucking wet for my dick.”

“Harder, Jamie.”

Goddamn.

“Keep calling me that and I’ll do whatever you want.”

You lose yourself in his thrusts; the sting has long turned into the most pleasure you’ve ever felt, and that’s saying something after the orgasm he lulled from you only a few minutes ago.

“Fuckin’ me s-so good, Jamie.”

“Ah- just like that, baby.”

“I’m getting close, James, need you to go faster.”

Your pleas send Bucky’s cock pulsing and he does exactly as you wish. He fucks you faster, fighting off the desperate urge to cum inside your sweet cunt.

“Jamie…” You sigh.

He grins up at you from his place at your tits, his tongue reaching out to tease your nipples. You push his head down till he takes your sensitive bud in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it while he gropes its twin.

The tight coil in your stomach is twisting to its limit and you find yourself dangerously close to cumming around Bucky’s hard, thick length.

“I’m so- oh fuck- i’m so close, James.”

He lifts his head and eyes you with lust blown pupils.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll? God, I can feel you clenching around me, you wanna cream all over my cock? Huh?” He smirks at your pornographic moans. “Bet I’ll look so good covered in your cum, sweets, maybe I’ll let you clean me up, put that mouth to good use.”

“I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum,” You chant several times breathlessly.

“Let go for me, sweet girl, make a mess o’my cock. Cum, doll.”

Your body shudders as your hips grind up into Bucky’s, your walls tightening before he feels you gush around him. Practically screaming in pleasure, you bite down on Bucky’s shoulder to quiet yourself, though the pain travels straight to his member, still fucking into you with force.

“Fuck, James, you’re so perfect, never came so hard in my life- shit-“

He’s groaning into your ear, his balls slamming against you and filling the room with salacious wet slaps.

“You’re so wet and- fuck- I can’t- I can’t hold back much longer.”

You tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and lick up the side of his throat, tongue catching the salty beads of sweat in its path. Reaching his earlobe, you suck on it lightly and whisper into his ear.

“Want you to cum inside me, Jamie. Fill me up, please, I need your cum.”

“Argh, fuck!!” Your words send Bucky over the edge and his hips stutter while he finally lets go.

“Oh god, yes!” Bucky grunts. “Take my cum, doll, fuckin’ take it.”

Your tongue seeks his neck once more, pressing open mouthed kisses as his cock shoots streams of white seed into you, the spurts seemingly never ending.

“Fillin’ my cunt so much, Jamie- fuck- you feel so good!”

As his cock softens, his thrusts slow to a more bearable pace, both of you so sensitive from your orgasms. Catching your breath takes a minute or two, but in the meantime, you coax satisfied sighs from your firefighter by running your hands up and down his back; the light sheen of sweat greets your fingertips as you touch him tenderly.

With no words being shared, you focus solely on Bucky’s breathing, the rise and fall of his back beneath your hands and the weight of his body on yours. It should be uncomfortable, but you’ve never felt so at home in a place, let alone with a person, in your life.

“That was…” Bucky murmurs into your neck.

You finish his sentence, “Pretty damn good.” Laughter ripples through the muscles of his back.

“Yeah,” He agrees and pulls back slightly to look at you, “you feeling okay?”

“If by okay you mean ‘completely and utterly fucked out’ then yeah, I’m great.”

You grin cheekily before pushing his hair behind his ear yet again, an act you find yourself praying that you’ll get to do for the rest of your life.

“How are you feeling?” You ask sincerely.

Those blue orbs flick between your own, laced with an emotion you hope to be love. “Like I want to be with you like this forever.” Bucky admits. “That and completely and utterly fucked out.”

You laugh heartily, bringing a beaming smile to Bucky’s swollen red lips.

“Let me clean you up, doll.” He offers before pushing himself off you, much to your dismay. He disappears to your bathroom for a minute before returning with a damp cloth in hand.

“Can you spread your legs for me, sweets?”

He bites a chuckle at how quickly you obey him and gets to work, wiping away your shared cum from your pussy and goosebump-ridden thighs. The towel is warm and soft on your skin, lulling you to sleep, though you fight to keep your eyes on your neighbour.

“You’re so beautiful, James.” You say, reaching to place your hand on his that sits beside you hip, where he’s leaning his weight.

He smiles sheepishly and focuses on the job at hand. Once you’re clean, Bucky carries you to the bathroom so you can do your business, waiting patiently outside after putting his boxers back on and grabbing his henley for you to wear.

When you step out of the bathroom, Bucky’s holding his he let out in front of you. “You looked a bit cold so I thought you might want a shirt?”

You smile, “Your shirt?”

“Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the movement, “You don’t have to, I just thou-“

He stops talking when you pull the henley from his grasp and tug it over your head. It swallows you whole and the sleeves tumble past your hands, but Bucky thinks it’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him back to your room and back into bed, tugging the sheets over you both where you nestle into his chest.

“You’re staying, right?” You ask with the most puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

“Of course, doll.”

Smiling to yourself, you curl up against the firefighter. “Woulda cooked you a meal months ago if I knew that’s all it took for you to finally fuck me.”

a/n: filth. pure filth. so sorry that it took me a lifetime to post this - life got lifey and it took me ages to get this right. it’s my second time writing any sort of smut so i hope it was good for y’all. thanks for all the support, it means the world to me. love you guys, red ❤️

comment if you’d like to be added to the ashes to embers taglist 🧡

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[goldfades]

LOVE IS THE ONE THING THAT CANNOT BE TAINTED BY FEAR OR DOUBT──FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW (part 2)

part one!!

for this request!!

─ summary | a week after megan caught you and father charlie, higher-ranking members of the church summon both of you for a stern warning. they threaten severe consequences—not just losing your positions, but eternal damnation—if you don't end your affair, and though you try to stay composed, charlie's anger flares as he refuses to accept their condemnation

─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader

─ word count | 5.3k

─ warnings | pretty angsty + dramatic but has a happy ending, forbidden love, descriptions of having a big family. also wanted to put out there that this in no way shape or form trying to depict the church as something bad, every church is different and this is just fictional and very self-indulgent.

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! this was super self indulgent and i swear i say that every time but it's true. the happy ending was sorta like... my happy ending LMAO but i just wanted them to end up together. this was super fast paced (ik... 5k words and """fast paced""") but if u read it, you'll know what i mean.

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

Father Charlie’s face is pale, his eyes wide with fear as the weight of what just happened begins to settle between you. The churchyard, once a sanctuary, now feels like a trap. You stand there, unable to move, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Megan—” you try to call out, your voice catching in your throat, but she’s already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the church.

Father Charlie turns to you, his hand trembling as he runs it through his hair. “This… this can’t get out. It’ll ruin everything,” he says, his voice breaking under the pressure. He paces, eyes darting toward the church doors as if expecting Megan to reappear any moment with a crowd of witnesses.

Your chest tightens. You know what’s at stake—the life you’ve both built within the church, the delicate balance of your roles, the unspoken rules you’ve crossed. There’s no undoing what’s been done.

“I didn’t mean—” you begin, but he cuts you off, stepping closer, his hands gripping your arms with desperate intensity.

“It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice urgent. “I should have never let it get this far. But Megan… she can’t know. No one can know.”

You nod, but the truth gnaws at you. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness. The kiss—the feelings behind it—have been building for longer than you want to admit. And now that the barrier has been broken, there’s no pretending you can go back to how things were.

“What if she tells?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

Father Charlie’s eyes meet yours, his face full of guilt and something else, something darker—a simmering fear. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything.”

The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You’ve never seen him like this, so cornered, so desperate. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve unleashed something in him that can’t be controlled.

“I have to fix this,” he mutters more to himself than to you, already starting to move toward the church, determination in his stride. “Go home. Don’t come back until I say it’s safe.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no room for discussion. The weight of your guilt, mingled with fear, presses heavy on your chest as you turn and leave, knowing that the fragile world you both clung to is about to shatter.

As you walk away from the church, the echoes of the kiss linger on your lips, but now they taste bitter—haunted by the knowledge that you’ve crossed a line you can never uncross. And Megan, with her watchful eyes, has seen it all.

The walk from the church feels impossibly long, every step weighed down by the suffocating pressure of what’s just transpired. The once-bright sky has dimmed into muted shades of twilight, the air thick with impending doom. You can feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The churchyard, so familiar and comforting just moments ago, now seems cold, distant—like it’s pushing you away.

You glance back once, just once, and catch sight of Charlie disappearing into the stone walls of the church. His movements are hurried, frantic, and it only makes the knot in your stomach tighten. You know he’s going to confront Megan. You know he’ll do everything in his power to convince her to stay silent, to protect both of you, but the seed of doubt has already taken root. What if she doesn’t listen? What if Megan has already spread word of what she saw?

The fear claws at your insides.

You replay the moment over and over in your mind—the kiss, the way his lips had pressed against yours with a hunger that had long been suppressed, the heat of his body against yours. It was more than a moment of weakness; it was the culmination of everything you had been hiding, everything you’d tried to bury under the weight of duty. You had always known there was something between you and Charlie, but you had told yourself it was nothing, that it could never be anything more than unspoken glances and the occasional brush of hands. But now, the truth is undeniable.

You love him.

And it terrifies you.

As you turn the corner, moving further away from the church and deeper into the quiet streets, you try to suppress the panic building inside you. You force yourself to breathe, slow and steady, even as the thought of what comes next twists and knots in your chest. Megan… she had seen everything. Her eyes, wide with shock and something close to betrayal, flashed in your mind like a warning. She would never understand. She couldn’t. To her, this wasn’t just a mistake or a lapse in judgment—it was blasphemy, a defilement of everything sacred.

You walk faster, as if the distance could somehow cleanse you of what just happened, but the weight of your sins follows you, heavy and unrelenting. By the time you reach your small, modest home, the last of the daylight is gone. The darkness feels fitting, like a cloak draped over the truth you’re so desperate to hide.

You fumble with the key, your hands trembling, and push open the door. Inside, the space feels too small, too confining. The walls close in around you, suffocating in their familiarity. You collapse onto the nearest chair, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what comes next.

You think of Megan again, the way she had slipped away so quickly, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. What had she seen? How much had she heard? Would she go to the elders? To the congregation? Your stomach churns at the thought of everyone knowing, their judgmental eyes stripping you bare, seeing you for what you truly are—a sinner. You can already picture the looks, the whispers that would follow, the way they’d turn on you. And Charlie—God, what would happen to him? His role as a priest, his entire life, would be torn apart if this got out.

You can’t let that happen.

But no matter how much you try to focus, your thoughts keep pulling back to him. To the way he looked at you in those moments after Megan had fled. His face, pale with fear, but his eyes… they had been filled with something more than just panic. There had been a tenderness there, a quiet desperation, as if he had wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words had been lost in the gravity of the situation. And now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, one that neither of you can cross until you know what Megan will do.

The hours stretch on in painful silence. You sit by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with dread. Every sound, every rustle of wind, makes you jump, half-expecting someone to come knocking at your door, to drag you back to the church and expose your sin to the world. But no one comes. The night is as still as your breath, suspended in an unbearable waiting.

You wonder how Charlie is faring. Is he talking to Megan right now? Is he pleading with her, trying to make her understand? Or is it too late—has she already made up her mind? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each minute that passes feeling like an eternity.

The quiet is suddenly interrupted by a soft knock at the door. You freeze, your heart stopping for a beat, your blood running cold. For a moment, you can’t move, can’t breathe. Then, slowly, you rise from the chair, your body moving on instinct. You approach the door with trembling hands, every step echoing like a drumbeat in the stillness of the house.

When you open it, Charlie stands on the other side.

His face is pale, his eyes dark and sunken, as though he’s aged years in the span of a few hours. His expression is grim, but beneath the weariness, there’s something else—something raw, something desperate. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him, and the weight of everything that’s happened settles between you.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. His hands are shaking, and you notice the way he clenches them into fists, trying to steady himself. “She’s not going to tell anyone,” he finally says, but his voice is hollow, and you know that’s not the whole story.

You take a step closer, searching his face for answers. “What did you say to her?”

Charlie’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of something dark in them—something you haven’t seen before. “I made sure she understood,” he says, but there’s no relief in his voice. No victory. Only guilt.

Your stomach tightens as his words sink in. You want to believe him, to trust that everything will be okay now, but the look in his eyes tells you that nothing will ever be the same. Not between you. Not between him and the church. And certainly not between him and Megan.

The silence stretches on, thick and heavy with unspoken truths, and you realize that whatever you thought you were protecting has already been lost. The kiss, the secret moments, the connection between you and Charlie—it’s all unraveling, piece by piece, and there’s no going back now.

You don’t know what he did. And you’re not sure you want to.

All you know is that something has shifted between you, and the fragile world you’ve built together is starting to crack.

“I… I couldn’t let her ruin this,” he says, his voice low and almost pleading. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s a rawness to his words, a vulnerability that you’ve never seen in him before, and it makes the knot in your throat tighten. “Charlie,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No,” he says, his voice firmer now, more certain. “You need to hear this. I love you.” The words hang between you, heavy and full of meaning. His eyes search yours, as though he’s terrified of what your response might be, but at the same time, there’s a conviction in him that tells you he’s been holding onto this for far too long.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world falls away. The fear, the uncertainty, the guilt—it all fades into the background, and all that’s left is the truth. He loves you.

And God help you, you love him too.

“I love you, too,” you finally say, the words slipping out in a rush, like a dam breaking. The weight of them is staggering, but also freeing, as though admitting it has somehow lifted the burden from your chest.

Charlie’s eyes soften, and in that moment, the darkness, the fear, everything that’s been hanging over you both seems to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, stolen moment.

He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, then your temple, and finally, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s tender, sweet, and laced with the kind of love that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. For a few precious seconds, you allow yourself to get lost in him—the warmth of his body, the way his hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile and precious. There’s no guilt in this kiss, no shame. Just love.

But as sweet as it is, there’s still a bitter edge, the reminder of what’s been lost. The weight of what happened earlier, of Megan’s watchful eyes, lingers like a shadow over your joy. You pull back slightly, your heart aching as you search his face for reassurance.

“What are we going to do?” you ask, the question heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Charlie lets out a soft sigh, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The simplicity of his words settles over you, warm and comforting, but the reality of the situation isn’t so easily dismissed. You know the risks, the consequences that loom over both of you like a dark cloud, but right now, in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, it feels like you can face anything.

He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as though he’s savoring the closeness, the peace that you’ve found in each other, if only for this fleeting moment. “I don’t care what happens,” he whispers. “As long as I have you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of happiness and sorrow, because you know that this love—the love you’ve both fought so hard to deny—is as beautiful as it is dangerous. The church, the life you’ve built, the faith that has defined you for so long—it all stands in opposition to what you feel for each other. And yet, here you are, standing on the precipice, ready to fall.

“I’m scared,” you admit softly, your voice trembling.

Charlie pulls you tighter against him, his breath warm against your skin. “So am I,” he confesses, his voice breaking just a little. “But I won’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”

You stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet, in the shared heartbeat that thumps in time with your own. For once, it feels like you’re not fighting against the world, but standing together, ready to face whatever comes next.

But the bitterness still lingers, a quiet reminder that nothing about this is simple. The danger hasn’t passed, and Megan’s silence, though promised, may not last forever. You both know that this moment—this love—comes with a cost.

Still, for now, you allow yourself to hold on to the sweetness of it, to the warmth of his embrace, and the knowledge that whatever happens next, you won’t face it alone.

───

The bells toll, echoing through the towering walls of the old church, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. Parishioners, still murmuring prayers under their breath, make their way toward the grand double doors, their heads dipped in reverence. The air is thick with incense, mingling with the faint scent of candle wax, and the murmured conversations of the faithful filter out as they depart.

You stand by the altar, adjusting your habit, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over you. It had been a week since the kiss—since Megan’s eyes had caught the forbidden moment. You and Father Charlie had been careful, the tension between you palpable but unspoken. There was no room for slip-ups now, not with what was at stake.

But just as you turn to head back toward the sacristy, you notice something that sends a chill through you. A group of clergy—men dressed in higher clerical vestments, their expressions stern and unyielding—are making their way toward the two of you. The archbishop, Father Lucian, leads them, his presence commanding and severe, a man of high standing in the church, second only to the bishop himself. Behind him are two more senior priests, Father Augustine and Monsignor Ramos, known for their strict adherence to church doctrine.

Charlie stands frozen for a moment, his usual calm demeanor stiffening as he recognizes the gravity of what’s about to happen. His eyes meet yours briefly, and in that split second, you both know. They know.

Father Lucian stops in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. His face is impassive, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating, filled with judgment and a quiet, simmering disappointment. The silence stretches on, unbearable, until finally, he speaks.

“Father Charles,” Lucian’s voice is deep and resonant, cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Mother Y/N. We need to speak.”

Charlie straightens, his jaw set in that familiar stubborn way, but his eyes flicker with something darker—anger, perhaps, or fear. You step closer to him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“We’ve been made aware of certain… transgressions,” Father Lucian continues, his voice cold, deliberate. “Ones that go against the very foundation of your vows—vows of purity, of dedication to God and His teachings.”

Father Charlie’s hands tighten into fists at his sides, though he doesn’t say anything yet. His silence, however, feels like the calm before a storm.

“We’ve heard unsettling rumors,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice carrying a softer, but no less menacing tone. “Of inappropriate closeness between the two of you. Intimacies that have no place within these sacred walls.”

Your stomach drops, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too stifling. The weight of their accusation presses against your chest, suffocating.

Father Augustine steps forward, his eyes sharp with accusation. “You both took vows before God,” he says, his voice unwavering. “To forsake earthly temptations for a higher calling. But what we’ve witnessed… it is not the first time such weakness has crept into the church. We cannot allow it to continue.”

You want to speak, to defend yourself, but your throat tightens, and words fail you. Beside you, Charlie’s breathing grows heavier, his anger barely contained.

“If you do not end this… affair immediately,” Father Lucian says, his voice dropping, “there will be consequences far worse than dismissal. You will not only lose your positions here, but you will face the eternal damnation of your souls. Your actions are not just a violation of church law but of God’s law. Do you understand?”

The implications hit you like a blow—hell. They’re threatening you with eternal punishment.

Father Charlie, who had remained silent until now, suddenly takes a step forward, his voice trembling with anger. “And who are you,” he says, his voice low but dangerous, “to tell us about the state of our souls?”

The senior clergy exchange glances, surprised at his defiance. But Charlie continues, his voice growing stronger. “Yes, we broke our vows. But this—what we feel—it's not some… sinful temptation. It’s love. And I won’t stand here and let you condemn us without knowing what’s in our hearts.”

Father Lucian’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, the tension is palpable. “Father Charles, you forget your place,” he says coldly. “This is not a matter of love. It is a matter of duty. Of obedience. You swore your life to God, not to your desires.”

“I didn’t swear my life to a prison,” Charlie snaps, his voice shaking with fury. “I swore my life to serve God, to care for people. But you—you’d rather see us as sinners than as human beings.”

“Father Charles,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice hardening, “you are speaking out of turn.”

“No,” Charlie interrupts, turning to you, his hand reaching for yours without hesitation. “I’m speaking the truth. I won’t let you use God as a weapon to control us.”

Your hand grips his tightly, and despite the cold sweat trickling down your spine, you feel an odd sense of strength radiating from him. The threat of hellfire lingers in the air, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel so terrifying with him standing beside you.

Father Lucian’s gaze hardens, his lips thinning into a severe line. “This is your final warning. End this now, or face the consequences.”

Charlie stares back at him, unwavering. “I’d rather face hell,” he says softly, “than live a lie.”

The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of his words hanging between you and the clergy like a challenge. They stand, frozen for a moment, taken aback by his refusal. The unspoken threat remains—hell, ruin, the dismantling of everything you’ve both worked for.

But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel afraid. You look at Charlie, his face set in defiance, and something inside you shifts. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, but it’s also the beginning of something else—something true, something worth fighting for.

The silence stretches unbearably in the cold churchyard, the tension thick as a storm building on the horizon. The senior clergy stare at Charlie, their expressions hard, almost disbelieving that he’s standing against them. Father Lucian’s eyes narrow further, but his voice remains steady, with a chilling authority.

“You are not beyond redemption,” he says, the words deliberate, cutting. “But defiance will not save you from the consequences of your actions. Think carefully before you decide to sacrifice everything—your calling, your salvation—for something so… fleeting.”

Charlie’s grip tightens around your hand. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His next words, however quiet, carry an unshakable resolve. “I’ve already decided. I won’t live a life of half-truths. If that’s what it takes to serve God here, then I’ll find my own way.”

Father Augustine inhales sharply, looking between you and Charlie with something resembling disappointment—or perhaps disdain. “This will not go unpunished,” he mutters, his tone cold and unyielding. “There are consequences for every action, Father Charles. You’ve been warned.”

Without another word, the three clergymen turn on their heels and leave, their footsteps echoing ominously against the stone floor of the church. The weight of their warning lingers, even after they disappear into the distance.

You and Charlie stand there, unmoving, his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. The tension in his body slowly ebbs, though his grip remains firm, as if he’s grounding himself in this moment, in you. The sky above is clear, but there’s a storm brewing, one you can’t ignore any longer.

“Charlie…” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustling of leaves in the courtyard. “What are we going to do?”

He exhales deeply, his shoulders dropping as he turns to face you fully. His eyes search yours, filled with the same mixture of love and uncertainty that’s been building between you since that night in the church. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now, the fire from before replaced with a gentle resignation. “But I know I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You feel the same pull in your chest, the same conflicted desire that’s been tearing you apart. Everything you’ve built within the church, every vow you’ve taken—it’s all crumbling around you. But Charlie… he’s the one thing that still feels real, the one person you’ve come to rely on, to love in ways you never expected.

“I can’t lose you either,” you admit, your throat tight, emotions swirling in a confusing blur. “But they’re right… If we keep going like this, it won’t just be losing our positions. It’ll be worse.”

Charlie’s gaze darkens for a moment, as if weighing the enormity of it all. He steps closer, lifting his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a tender, almost reverent motion. “I know the risks,” he says, his voice steady, filled with an unshakable determination. “But the risk of not having you in my life… that’s worse.”

You close your eyes at his touch, leaning into the warmth of his hand. His words wrap around your heart, pulling you closer to the edge of something you can’t take back.

───

The decision had been made in a heartbeat, almost too quickly for either of you to process. One moment, you were standing in the courtyard, exchanging quiet promises of love and loyalty; the next, you were both packing your modest belongings in a small room that had been your sanctuary for years.

Charlie’s movements were hurried but deliberate, his usual calm demeanor now laced with an urgency that mirrored your own. You threw robes and personal items into a small bag, your heart pounding as the reality of your situation sank in.

“We can’t stay here,” he had said, his voice shaking with conviction. “Not after that. If we don’t leave now, they’ll find a way to tear us apart.”

You agreed, knowing deep down that the church, once a symbol of comfort and belonging, had become a prison. It wasn’t just Megan’s spying or the warnings from the senior clergy—it was everything. The suffocating weight of the vows, the whispered rumors, the constant feeling of being watched. You couldn’t breathe here anymore.

The room, usually filled with quiet prayer and reflection, was now buzzing with the frantic energy of departure. Charlie stopped for a moment, watching you from across the room. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you had rarely seen before. He came closer, brushing his hand across your cheek, tilting your chin so that you met his gaze.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “We’re leaving everything behind.”

You nodded, heart pounding, but with a certainty that surprised even you. “I’m sure. I can’t stay here, Charlie. Not without you. Not like this.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the moment, as if holding on to this fragile piece of certainty before everything crumbled.

“We’ll be alright,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way. Together.”

You smiled, a bittersweet knot forming in your chest. The thought of leaving everything you’d known was terrifying—but the thought of staying, of pretending, of hiding this love… that was worse.

A knock at the door startled you both, and your heart leapt in your chest. You turned to the door, half expecting to see Father Lucian or another member of the clergy, ready to drag you back into the suffocating confines of the church’s judgment.

But it was Megan.

Her eyes were wide, but there was something softer in her gaze now—something you hadn’t seen before. She hesitated in the doorway, her hand lingering on the knob as she looked between you and Charlie.

“I—I heard,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving?”

Charlie tensed beside you, but you took a step forward, your heart racing. “Megan… I know what you saw. I know what you think, but—”

She shook her head, cutting you off. “No. It’s not that. I—” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath, glancing at Charlie before continuing. “I’m not here to stop you. I just… I just wanted to say I understand. I don’t agree with it, but I understand why you’re doing this.”

You blinked, taken aback. Megan, the one who had spied on you, who had been so suspicious of your every move, was standing here, offering understanding. It felt surreal.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she added softly. “But if you’re really leaving, you need to go now. They’ll come looking for you.”

Charlie’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. You felt a rush of gratitude toward Megan, despite everything that had happened between you. Her warning, her silence—it was an unexpected act of kindness.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words feeling heavy with meaning.

She nodded once, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

You turned to Charlie, your breath catching in your throat. “It’s time.”

He nodded, his jaw set, determination burning in his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Together, you walked out of the room, leaving behind the life you had known, the vows you had once believed in, and the future you had thought was certain. The church, once towering and holy, now felt like a distant memory as you stepped into the world beyond its gates.

You didn’t know what would come next—where you would go or what you would do—but with Charlie by your side, the fear didn’t seem quite as overwhelming. You had each other. And for now, that was enough.

EPILOGUE

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the rolling hills and fields that stretched beyond your front porch. The house you now called home sat nestled against a small grove of trees, a place you’d never imagined, yet somehow felt destined to find.

A soft breeze rustled through the open windows, carrying with it the distant laughter of children playing in the yard. You smiled, leaning against the wooden railing as you watched them—a picture of the life you had once dreamed of, now fully realized.

Two little girls, their dark curls bouncing in the breeze, were chasing after their younger brother, their giggles filling the air. They were so full of energy, so full of life. The kind of life you had longed for back when everything felt so suffocating, back when the idea of having a family seemed distant and impossible.

Behind you, the front door creaked open, and Charlie stepped out, two mugs of tea in his hands. His face, though older and more weathered now, still held that same softness that had always drawn you to him. He passed you a cup and wrapped an arm around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched the scene unfold before you.

You smiled, leaning into him, your heart swelling with contentment. This was the dream you had once shared with him, whispered between kisses when the future seemed so uncertain. But now, here it was—tangible, real. Your two daughters, as spirited and wild as you had imagined, and your son, a bundle of mischief with Charlie’s inquisitive nature.

You stood there in comfortable silence, watching as your eldest, a curious seven-year-old, tried to corral her younger siblings with all the seriousness of someone far beyond her years. The younger girl, barely five, kept bursting into fits of giggles, while your three-year-old son—always a handful—tumbled into the grass, quickly distracted by the dogs.

It was a far cry from the life you had left behind, from the cold stone walls of the church and the whispers of judgment. You had built this life together—away from the suffocating expectations, the prying eyes, and the fear. Out here, in this open space, you were free to be who you truly were, without shame, without fear of punishment.

Charlie turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re happy?”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “I am,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “I really am.”

He smiled, his eyes softening in the way they always did when he looked at you—filled with a love that had only grown stronger over the years. You still had your moments of doubt, of course—those nights when the past crept in, when the memory of everything you’d left behind tugged at your mind. But then you would look at him, at the children you had brought into the world, and it would all disappear.

Charlie pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the children’s laughter echoed through the evening air. The weight of the past had faded into something distant, something that didn’t define you anymore.

This was your future now—a family, a home filled with love and laughter. You had chosen this life, together, and it was better than any dream you had ever dared to hope for.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, your eldest daughter ran up to you, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama! Look what we found!”

She held up a small flower she had picked from the yard, and you crouched down to examine it, your heart swelling with pride at her joy over such a simple thing.

“It’s beautiful,” you told her, smoothing back a stray curl from her face.

She beamed, darting off again to join her siblings, and you stood back up, feeling Charlie’s presence beside you, steady and strong.

“Two daughters, a son, and two dogs,” he repeated softly, his voice filled with that same awe he always carried when he talked about your family. “You’ve always had the best dreams.”

You leaned into him, your fingers intertwined, as the last light of the day faded. “And you’ve always made them come true.”

↳ 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 ♡

[vngelicc]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

[midnightwriter21]

Hello :) please could I request headcanons of the hashira having a crush on a hashira!reader who’s very motherly to the younger demon slayers but shy and secretly craving affection from the other hashira 💙💙

demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 1

characters: fem!reader x giyuu, rengoku, tengen, shinobu, kamaboko squad (mentioned)

AN: some of these are platonic instead of romantic.

pt. 2 with mitsuri, obanai, sanemi, and muichiro is HERE

stop because i love this

you don't talk to the other hashira much

but its not because you don't like them!

they're just a little intimidating

and you want them to like you so bad

but what if you accidentally embarrass yourself in front of them

would be my biggest fear tbh

GIYUU

this guy is just as shy as you are

awkward asf too

but seeing as you're one of the few hashira that are kind to him..

he really likes you

also really appreciates the way you take care of the younger slayers

especially the Kamado siblings

i mean he did literally put his life on the line for those two

you guys don't talk much when in each others company

really its more of a dead silence lmao

like thats a surprise at all lol

but he enjoys being in your presence

he thinks you have a very calming aura around you

and he never feels any hostility from you

if you guys are paired up on a mission?

my guy is glued to u

no way is a demon going to hurt someone as pure and kindhearted as u

not on giyuu's watch

even tho he's goin to be protective of u during missions

he knows that despite your sweet nature, ur a hell of a fighter

respects you sm

thinks of you as his only true friend within the corps

RENGOKU

i can never get enough of him i swear

he absolutely adores you

goes out of his way to talk to you every chance he gets

ur all the way on the other side of the butterfly estate?

sunshine boy is hunting you down

ur on a mission a few miles away from his estate?

he's alrdy otw

also very oblivious

you get shy when he starts talking to you

maybe you start blushing

"oh are you sick? your face is all red. i hope you don't have a fever..."

and hes putting his hand on ur forehead to check ur temperature

if he touched me id faint

admires how you genuinely care for the younger slayers

the way you encourage them to get stronger

the way you help them train

the way you make sure they're eating and drinking enough

you remind him of his mother

TENGEN

when him & his wives finally have children..

ur designated babysitter 100%

being the sound hashira he has a great sense of hearing

so he hears your interactions with the younger slayers

you're not afraid to talk to the kids

you comfort them. laugh with them, scold them, etc.

wonders why you act so differently in the presence of the hashira

makes it his mission to make you comfortable around him

u don't have to worry abt affection when tengen is concerned lol

compliments you 24/7

"you look very flashy today!"

"you are a great teacher!"

"You should become my 4th wife!"

no bc that lmfao ^

SHINOBU

you two are very familiar with each other

it's very often that you're dragging inosuke or genya by the ear to the infirmary to be treated

mostly inosuke

so she is well aware of how motherly u can be

she's a regular witness to the many scoldings given out to the younger slayers

you also asked her to train you in basic first aid

your red face and stuttered words were so cute she acted like she couldn't understand you

just so you would repeat it

loves to tease you

nothing too bad!

and never mean!

just thinks you're so adorable

really appreciates when shes sent on missions and you help out in the infirmary

wants to be better friends with you

[taeghi]

in the flesh (kind of)

ghost hunter y/n gets called to exorcist a ghost out of a home, she expects the usual routine, but is instead met with heeseung—a mischievous ghost who’s way too charming, way too flirty, and definitely not ready to leave... not until he gets the thing he most desires.

PAIRING: psychic y/n x ghost heeseung

GENRE: smut!! i guess a bit of horror? lots of oral, spitting, biting, spanking, unprotected sex (plsplspls wear a condom), face sitting lmao, a bit of cum eating if you will

WC: 6.8k happy halloween 🎃 MDNI

the house in front of you looked as ordinary as ever. 

it didn’t look like one of those houses in scary movies. there was no sign of paranormal activity from the outside. 

you had been called to this house to investigate an alleged haunting here. they client said it was urgent too, and that you needed to get the spirit out quickly. 

you’re a psychic and you happen to be a ghost investigator, too. 

you pull out the client’s report and read through it; 

it started small, but it was always… wrong. i’d have female friends over, and they’d say they felt watched. they’d joke about it at first, until the jokes stopped. they’d leave my place unsettled, refusing to come back.

it escalated. i heard whispers in the night, a low, raspy voice calling my name. some of my friends even said they felt something cold graze their skin, like fingertips trailing along their arms and neck. it happens when they’re alone, especially in the bathroom mirror. they swear they see a face behind them, something shadowy with hollow eyes, just watching.

last week, a friend bolted out of the house, screaming that something had grabbed her arm, hard enough to leave a bruise. she won’t speak to me anymore. this thing – it doesn’t just haunt; it targets. i don’t know why it hates them, but it’s getting bolder. please… i need it gone before it decides that’s not enough.

you sigh as you finish re-reading it. the rest of your investigative team were called to a larger house with a previous client, leaving you alone with this emergency client. all alone as a woman with a spirit who allegedly targets women. 

you roll your eyes, just your luck.

you start your way up the ordinary pathway to the ordinary house, and find the spare key to the house under the mat, where the client said it would be. you slip the key into the lock and push the door open; it creaks as it widens. 

from your point on the outdoor step, you look into the house. the inside is seemingly as normal as the outside. the grand foyer in front of you is made with dark wood and you can see the sunlight peering in through the glass stained windows. 

you step inside, closing the heavy front door behind you, and a deep silence settles around you. the air feels dense, pressing close to your skin, but there’s no immediate trace of energy. you begin your usual inspection, running your fingers along the dark wood walls, pausing every so often to feel for any lingering presence. your fingertips drag across the furniture in the living room, the marble countertops in the kitchen. your senses are on high alert, but… nothing. not a single trace of energy. 

you check off the first floor on your checklist and slide it back into your bag. the basement and second floor are still left. the client mentioned there may be an attic, but he’s never been up there and doesn’t know how to get there. 

you make your way to the spiral staircase in the foyer, placing a hand on the ornate banister. instantly, a faint, buzzing vibration hums beneath your palm. it’s subtle, barely there, but unmistakable. your pulse quickens, and you grip the banister tighter as you ascend, focusing on the sudden, faint energy. 

maybe there is paranormal activity here. 

as you reach the top of the staircase, the air seems colder, biting at your skin, and it’s so silent you can hear the ringing in your ears. the hallway stretches before you, dimly lit from the afternoon sunshine, with shadows pooling in every corner. 

you turn down the hallway and find the bathroom from the client’s report, its door slightly ajar. the second you step inside, a wave of heavy energy washes over you, prickling your skin. you can feel something in the bathroom, the remnants of something. 

your fingertips graze over the sink countertop, trying to fully grasp the energy that is lurking out of sight, watching you. 

you stare into the mirror, half expecting to see someone else’s reflection staring back, but there’s only you—your eyes wide, the unease settling like lead in your stomach.

you take a step back, trying to shake the feeling, when a loud creak pierces the silence, echoing down the hall. you jump, heart pounding, and whip around to see a door at the end of the hallway slowly inching open, as if beckoning you.

you know it’s in there. 

your heartbeat thunders as you approach. halfway down the hall, a framed portrait catches your eye: a family, frozen in time, but the mother’s eyes… they look wrong. her painted gaze feels too aware, following you as you move. you look away, only to hear a faint, raspy whisper echo down the hall, saying your name. the sound slithers through the silence, almost mocking, and you spin around, 

but there’s no one there.

you almost laugh at yourself– you’ve been in worse situations than this, yet a little creak and, probably the wind, scare you. so, you continue your way to the creaked open door. 

just as you reach the open door, a sudden, sharp cold rushes past you, chilling you to the bone. your skin prickles, and you swear you feel fingers graze your shoulder. the air fills with the faint scent of something metallic, like rust or old blood. your throat tightens, but you push into the room, only to find it empty – just an old bedroom, frozen in time.

then, a loud slam rattles the door behind you, sealing you inside.

you immediately start to dig into your bag for sage and a lighter, pulling it out and trying to light it. from the corner of the room, you hear a soft, almost playful chuckle. your breath catches, the hair on the back of your neck stands up as you realize… you’re not alone.

you spin around, eyes darting to the shadowed corner where the chuckle came from, and freeze. there, half-hidden in the darkness, stands a man. his silhouette is tall and imposing, dressed in old-fashioned clothing—a loose white blouse with the top few buttons undone, revealing a sliver of skin beneath, and black pants that hang loosely around his frame. the shadows surround his face, but you can feel his gaze locked onto you.

your fingers fumble with the lighter, hands trembling as you try to spark a flame against the bundle of sage. it clicks over and over, each failed attempt magnifying the icy dread pooling in your stomach. your throat tightens, and you can barely swallow.

you keep trying to spark a flame when a deep voice cuts through the silence. “you know that won’t work, so don’t even bother with it.” his tone is smooth, calm, and almost amused.

before you can react, the sage flies out of your hand as if it’s been ripped away, slamming against the nearest wall before falling to the floor. you jolt, heart pounding, and look back to the corner—but he’s gone. the space where he stood is empty.

“over here.” the voice comes from right behind you, and you spin around, breath catching in your throat. he’s standing inches away now, close enough that you can make out every detail of his face. despite the fear tightening in your chest, you can’t help but notice he’s… handsome. dark, intense eyes watching you closely, his expression unreadable, but somehow captivating. every instinct tells you to run, but his gaze holds you frozen in place.

the man’s gaze sharpens as he studies you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “so you really can see me, huh?”

you nod, unsure of what else to do, your throat dry.

“hm,” he hums, tilting his head as he takes you in, intrigued. “i’ve never met someone like you. i mean, i’ve sensed people who can feel my energy before, but never anyone who can actually see me.”

“right,” you stammer, forcing the word out past the lump of nerves in your throat.

his smirk widens, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “your name is y/n, right? after your great-grandmother?”

you feel a flicker of shock but work hard to keep your face neutral. stay calm, you tell yourself, steadying your voice as you say, “yes. what’s your name?”

the man starts to wander around the room, his fingers trailing over the dusty, ancient bookshelf, his expression thoughtful. suddenly, like a whisper in your mind, a name appears: heeseung.

“heeseung?” you murmur, testing it out loud.

he stops, looking over his shoulder with that same smirk, eyes gleaming. “wow, your powers really are a talent, y/n.”

“t-thank you,” you stammer, your voice barely steady.

heeseung stands up, moving to the window and glancing outside as the last light fades, leaving the sky dark and heavy. “let me guess,” he says, sounding amused, “the man of the house called you to exterminate me?”

you nod, trying to keep your composure. “yes, heeseung, exactly.”

he chuckles, turning to lean against the window with an easy, almost playful smirk. “he’s so pathetic. i was just trying to have a little fun.”

your mind flashes back to the client’s report. “you targeted women? left a bruise on one of them,” you remind him cautiously.

heeseung laughs, loud and sharp, his eyes glinting with amusement. “please, y/n, i didn’t leave a bruise on her… at least, not the kind of bruise i enjoy leaving.” he pushes off the window, closing the distance between you in a few strides. “i just like scaring people. and women, well, they’re the easiest to frighten.”

he stops right in front of you, his gaze boring into yours, making it hard to breathe. “can you feel me, y/n? if i touch you?”

you shrug, trying to ignore the way your heart pounds. “depends on how strong the energy is.”

heeseung quirks an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “may i try?” you hesitate, the thought of a ghost’s touch sending a shiver down your spine. heeseung senses your distaste, “i’ll be gentle, i promise.” 

before you can think better of it, you nod. “yes.”

heeseung’s smirk softens, and he reaches out, placing his index finger gently on your shoulder. the touch sends an electric jolt through you—it feels as real as any human’s, but you can feel your skin vibrating and humming under his touch. he drags his finger down slowly, tracing over your shoulder and down your side with a feather-light pressure that makes your skin ignite. his touch doesn’t stop until it rests at your waist, and he finally pulls away, leaving your skin tingling in its absence.

you’ve never felt anything like it before. 

“that felt so good,” he says, his voice laced with surprise. it’s as if he can’t believe the sensation, and for a moment, the amusement fades. “i haven’t felt such energy since i’ve been dead.” he examines his finger closely, as if he’s trying to grasp the lingering warmth it held. you wonder if it still hums for him like your skin does for you.

“how long have you been dead for, heeseung?” you blurt out, unable to stop the question before it slips past your lips. as you take in his clothes, you can’t help but think it must have been a while since he last walked among the living.

without opening his mouth, his eyes drift from the tip of his finger back to you, and you hear his voice echo in your mind: i don’t remember. you nod in understanding. 

you swallow hard before speaking again, the weight of the moment settling over you. “heeseung, you need to leave this place.”

he smirks and starts to pace around the room, giving you a breath of space that you didn’t realize you needed. “i knew that was coming,” he replies, the teasing lilt in his tone returning. 

“why do you want to stay here?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

heeseung laughs, the sound rich and dark, and looks at you from across the room. “because the man of the house brings so many women over—so many beautiful ones. and he fucks all of them!” in an instant, he’s right in front of you again, his hands gripping your shoulders. the humming and vibrations return, electrifying your skin as he leans closer, intensity radiating from him. “do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt the touch of a beautiful woman?”

it takes you a second to process his words, your heart racing as you feel the vibrations from his touch. he drops them back to his sides, the absence of his touch leaving you feeling strangely cold. “so long, y/n,” he sighs, a deep, heavy sound that echoes with despair. “at least i can watch the man of the house get some.” 

he moves away, flopping sideways onto the old bed, his feet still planted on the floor. he looks almost wistful, staring up at the ceiling as if searching for something lost. the room feels heavier now that you know what heeseung’s spirit seeks. 

your curiosity can’t stop you from asking, “i mean, can’t you have sex with like, other ghosts?” 

heeseung sits up on his elbows, looking at you like you’re an idiot, “it’s not the same, y/n. there’s no desire! no warmth!” 

“i see, but you can’t stay here, heeseung– you need to move o–.” 

“i’m not leaving!” his voice yells suddenly, you hear all the doors in the house start to rattle. your heartbeat picks up and you take steps back from the bed where the ghost layed. “i’m staying here!” 

you stop walking when your back hits the wall behind you, causing a small squeal to escape your throat. you glance back to the bed to see heeseung gone, the doors rattling stopped. you look around the room and you can’t see him anywhere. 

just great. you think to yourself, now the ghost you needed to remove is gone. 

“what’s just great?” a voice speaks in your right ear, causing you to squeak and jump to your left. you hear heeseung’s laughter fill your ears as you realize it was him. “see, i told you. it’s so easy to scare women.” 

you huff as you look at the ghost, “it’s’ not funny heeseung, you’re not welcomed here.” 

heeseung signs and rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall you were previously up against. “i know, i know. but i have a problem, y/n, and i can’t leave until i get it fixed.” 

you think about his problem and how you could get him to leave so your client would be happy. 

have sex with him. 

the intrusive thought fills your mind, and you realize that it wasn’t your thought, but heeseung’s. you glance up at him with a scowl on your face– the opposite as the smirk on his own. 

“please y/n!” heeseung whines, stepping away from the wall and walking up to you, “if you have sex with me then i’ll leave here, and the man of the house can be happy and you’ll get paid.” 

you open your mouth to disagree but heeseung starts speaking again, not wanting to hear it, “please y/n, just think about it.” he walks even closer, closer than ever, and places his hands on your hips. his thumb staying still on the exposed skin of your lower abdomen from where your shirt had ridden up. the vibrations from his touch course through you again. “just a simple touch makes it feel this good for you, imagine how’d my touch feel as i taste your pussy– as my cock stretches you out– i know you haven't been touched in a while, y/n. your poor pussy,” heeseung tuts and you can’t argue with him, it had been awhile. but to sleep with a ghost? you weren’t so sure about it. his touch does feel so good, so electrifying, you do wonder how’d it feel on other parts of your body. 

have sex with him. have sex with him. have sex with him. have sex with him. have sex with him. 

“okay! fine!” you consent loudly, “enough!” his voice echoes through your head over and over again.

“perfect.” 

then, heeseung is pushing back against the wall, your body trapped in between his and the wall. his hands fly to your body, wanting to feel all of you all at once– the touch was electrifying. his lips pressed into yours, roughly. they worked against yours quickly, his tongue licking your bottom lip, demanding for entrance. when you open your mouth to let him in, his tongue isn't shy from exploring your mouth. your tongues fight together as your lips are rough against each other. heeseung gives you no room to breathe, his lips are just attacking yours, sending vibrations all around your body. 

heeseung pulls away, his hand staying on your jaw as he looks down at you. your eyes are already dazed, your lips are swollen and wet and your chest is heaving roughly. he smirks at your lack of composure, his thumb grazes your bottom lip gently. 

“wanna see what else my mouth can do?” heeseung asks with a teasing tone. you quickly nod in response, wanting and needing more from him, more than you ever expected. heeseung presses a rough kiss onto your lips again before he kneels down on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down alongside your panties. he helps you step out of the clothing before he’s spreading your legs apart and staring right at your exposed pussy. 

“fuck your pussy looks so fucking good,” heeseung literally moans out, staring at your pussy lips that are starting to leak with your juices. 

before you could respond, heeseung dove in between your legs with you still standing against the wall. he licls you completely from the front of the back. he started sucking on your sensitive clit, swirling his tongue around your entire pussy. 

your whines quickly filled the empty house. you looked down between your legs where heeseung was knelt on the floor, his eyes staring at your face as he flicked his tongue over your clit which you could only describe as heavenly. the way he was staring at you so intently made your pussy wetter and wetter. 

heeseung’s fingers found the entrance of your drenched pussy, teasing it as his lips continued to suck on your clit. he sunk two fingers in at once, moving them in and out as he ate you out. 

“h-holy shit, heeseung,” you moaned loudly, arching your back off of the wall behind you. heeseung kept licking your now swollen clit, fingering your pussy faster and faster. the sounds coming from between your legs was so sinful. 

heeseung curls his fingers inside you, searching for your g-spot to touch. his fingers were long, being able t o reach deeper inside you than even your fingers had. your pussy walls were starting to tighten around his fingers as he found the right spot that had your knees buckling on either side of his head. 

“does that feel good, y/n? do you like having my fingers inside your desperate pussy and my tongue fucking your clit? is this what you’ve wanted for so long?” heeseung growls into your pussy, his fingers fucking harder against your g spot over nad over again. 

you gasp for air was the pleasure from his touch began to course everywhere through your body. the vibrations and humming on your skin where he was touching made it hard to breathe. you could quickly feel a knot forming in your lower stomach, quicker than you’ve ever experienced. 

“heeseung!” you screamed and suddenly you were cumming all over his fingers and face. your juices dripping all over him. you had never released this quickly or hard before, and you think it had something to do with his vibrating touch that courses through your entire being at every single touch he gave you. 

your body was shaking and spasming as the high rushes through you. his face was still buried between your legs until you stopped. he slowly pulled away, you can see his entire lower half was drenched. 

before you had even caught your breath properly, heeseung was pulling you to the bed and pushing you down on the ground before it. he sat down on it in front of you, undoing his own pants as he bit his lip and looked down at your already fucked out figure. your knees felt relief as they kneeled on the ground before you. your entire body still felt unstable as heeseung’s cock popped into sight in front of you. it was hard and veiny and it looked like it was about to explode without a singular touch from you. his size was definitely the biggest you had ever seen. 

“suck on my cock, y/n, be a good girl for me,” heeseung grinned down at you. 

you didn’t hesitate to lean down and lick a long stripe from his swollen balls to the tip of cock. you licked the base of it. heeseung groaned in pleasure and watched your actions with intense focus, like he wanted to remember every single detail of his moment. 

his cock was throbbing with the need of pleasure in your mouth. you felt yourself drool at the idea of how hot and heavy it would feel inside of your mouth. you wanted to please him so much. 

you continued licking his cock with your tongue, and you grabbed a hold of his balls with one of your hands. you squeezed and massaged his hard balls softly as you licked to the sensitive tip again. you took in the drops of pre-cum that were pooling and threatening to spill onto the floor. 

then, you took him completely into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. 

heeseung moaned loudly and smiled to himself in relief as his head fell back on his shoulders. one of his hands found its place on your hair– making your scalp erupt with vibrations that encouraged you to suck him faster. 

your tongue swirled around his cock while you bobbed up and down. you could feel him sliding deeper and deeper into your throat. 

“fuck you’re such a good girl,” heeseung moaned before he started to help you move yoru head up and down by holding the grip of your hair tighter. you hollow your cheeks more and kept sucking to give him the pleasure that he had given you.��

your tongue swirled around heeseung’s cock as you bobbed around him. your hands gripped on his balls tighter and massaged them. his moans and grunts picked up pace quickly. you could feel his cock start to twitch in your mouth. the thought of him cumming turned you on so much, you wanted to see him squirm and moan your name as his cum shot out of his sensitive tip. 

“f-fuck, ok ok,” heeseung says, pulling you off of his cock. you whine out, upset that he didn’t cum in your mouth. 

he only laughs, “i wanna finish inside of you, y/n, just wait.” 

you bite your lip at the thought of his cum filling you up, you wanted it just as bad as you wanted it in your mouth. heeseung pulls you up from your knees, you’re still wearing your tshirt, and makes you sit on the bed with him. 

“take my shirt off of me,” heeseung demands. you shakily reach out your hands and unbutton each small button on his loose fitting shirt, you see him shiver slightly as your fingers graze along his skin as you undo every button until it’s wide open and showing his chest. it’s well defined and pale and cold like the rest of him. “your touch feels as good on me as mine does on you.” heeseung explains as he reads your mind. 

heeseung shrugs his shirt off his shoulders and drops it on the ground, leaving him completely naked in front of you. he looks beautiful. 

“you look beautiful too, y/n.” heeseung says, and it doesn’t surprise you anymore that he can read your thoughts. he reaches out and puts his thumb against your lips, wanting access inside your mouth. you open and allow his thumb inside. you suck on it, wishing you could do more. “fuck, i need to taste you again.” heeseung grunts and pulls his hand away as he lays down on his back. “c’mere, sit on my face, baby.” the nickname causes a stir in you, and you hurriedly do as he says. 

you place both of your knees on either side of his head, looking down in between your thighs you see his eyes, hungry and full of lust as he switches from looking at your pussy to your face. 

“it’s okay, just sit.” he encourages you, sensing your brief hesitation. he yanked you down harder against his mouth, making you fully sit against him. your body fully relaxes as you feel his tongue start to dart around your pussy again, already familiar. 

“oh god! oh fuck!” you cry out, your hands grip the headboard, needing support as your upper body felt weak from pleasure. 

heeseung went from moving his entire mouth back and forth, to left to right against you. he thrusts his tongue deep inside of you, wanting to taste every inch of your hole. then he went into sucking your clit into his mouth like his life depended on it. he was doing everything he could to please you, and you couldn’t even process it all from the pleasure consuming your entire body. 

“c’mon,” heeseung coaxes from underneath you, out of breath, “aren’t you a little slut, y/n? hm? gonna ride my face, baby? grab my hair– i like it.” he grabs your wrists from the headboard and guides your hands to his hair. 

you nodded, your hands curling in his hair, holding onto him. you relax back onto his mouth, his tongue going back to licking and sucking your clit. you instantly pull at his hair, needing something to hold onto as he holds you still and tongue fucks you. 

heeseung’s hands either gripped the flesh of your thighs, holding you in place on his face, or they alternated onto your ass, where he’d massage the flesh after he spanks it. he loves the cries you made everytime his hand made contact with your ass. he loved the way you were so into pain, just like he was. 

you were turning into a whining mess above him, and he loved it. he loved it so much more than he should’ve. 

“you like it when i eat your pussy, right baby?” 

you can only nod in response, the pleasure too overwhelming for you. all you can think about is his tongue circulating your pussy, making sure to touch every single spot. you start to swivel your hips against his face, without even thinking about your actions, just thinking about how fucking close you were to cumming. you couldn’t handle it, his touch that would send vibrations throughout your body, his moans into your skin, the way he was so intently looking at you. the pleasure was building so quickly you needed to do something. 

“fuck you’re so hot,”  heeseung mumbles into your pussy, “look at me, y/n– look how much your pussy has soaked me.” you manage to look down further, his nose, cheeks, chin and even his neck are glistening in the moonlight. it only makes you cry out, the sight turning you on more. you’ve never been so desperate to cum before. 

“are you gonna cum, baby? gonna come all over my face?” heeseung questions you, sensing how close you were, reading your mind and every single movement you made so easily, “please, i want you to so bad. i need it.” 

“f-fuck! yes! heeseung yes!” you cry, pulling on his hair harder, making him smack your ass harder. you needed something to hold onto as the huge rush of pleasure started to take over your body before you could realize it. 

he pulls  your body tight and snug against himself as your orgasm hits. a loud scream of his name escapes your lips as your body spasms above the ghost. his tongue not stopping at licking and sucking your entire pussy throughout it all. 

suddenly you felt a rush of wetness leave your body, your vision going blurry, your body felt like it was on fire. 

“oh fuck, yes!” you hear heeseung mumble, his head moving in a frenzy against your pussy. your cries don’t stop until the final, long wave of pleasure ends. 

your left practically hunched over on top of him, your body red and sweating with your chest heaving as you catch your breath. you don’t even feel heeseung gently slide out from underneath you and gently lay you do. 

“that was so hot, y/n,” heeseung moans, “i didn’t expect you to squirt.” 

the word comes out of your mouth and shocks you, you hadn’t thought you had done that. your eyes fully adjust to the room again and you see that heeseung’s entire chest and face are drenched in what could literally only be your juices. 

your hand covers your mouth in shock and almost embarrassment, oh my god, what have i done? 

heeseung suddenly laughs and reaches over to pull your hand away, “don’t worry, it was so fucking hot, i wanna make you do it over and over again.” 

“oh god, maybe not right now, i don’t think i could handle it.” 

heeseung only laughs at you, a full chest laugh before he leans down and meshes his lips against yours. you moan at the taste of your juices covering his lips and mouth. his hand is gently resting on your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as you make out. both of you needed a break from the pleasure, but still wanted to touch one another. your touch was addicting to him as his was to you. neither of you could pull apart for too long, needing the other’s touch again. 

“you gonna let me feel your pussy wrapped around my cock?” heeseung asks you, his voice in a whisper. 

“please,” you beg in a whimper. 

heeseung shuffles so he’s hovering over top of you, his hand roaming your body. he lifts up your shirt so it pools around your arms and neck, revealing your breasts. he starts to grind his hard length against your pussy, making you cry out. his fingers pinch your erect nipples. your back arches into his touch, wanting more. 

“you’re so sexy, oh my god,” heeseung growls, bending down to take your rosy nipple into his mouth. his tongue teases and suckles, alternating between gentle laps and firm tugs that have you writhing against him. 

heeseung suddenly spins you around, pressing your front down against the mattress. he nips at your neck, biting and sucking on it from behind. he leaves a trail of wet kisses, making you shiver. 

heeseung positions himself at your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging your slick folds, “fuck your pussy’s drenched, can’t wait to feel it around my cock.” 

heeseung slides just the tip inside, so slowly, making you whimper, “please, heeseung, i need your cock inside me.”  a sudden slap against your already red and irritated ass makes you jolt and squeeze around his cock. 

“tell me how you want my cock.” 

“i want it so bad! i need it heeseung! please fuck me, please.” you couldn’t recognize your voice, the way it sounded so desperate and needy for him and only him. 

with a growl, he plunges deep inside of you, filling you in one swift stroke. you cry out as he stretches you, accommodating his large cock. “so tight, so fucking perfect.” he grunts, his voice strained as he holds himself still, letting you adjust to his size. 

“move, please,” you plead, pushing back against him, wanting more.

he obliges, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you, setting a relentless pace. the slap of flesh meeting flesh fills the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. he reaches around, finding your clit, and begins to rub firm circles as he pounds into you. 

he pulls back, letting the tip remain inside your warmth and spits down, landing where your bodies connect. you moan out at the degrading action, your eyes rolling back into your head as you let him continue fucking you. he’s practically using your body to get off, you’re so weak and spent and needy, all you can do is lay there. 

everything is so wet and warm, your bodies tingling from each other’s touch. the pillow your face is resting on is soaked in your drool and sweat. 

“fuck,” you moan, long and drawn out, the whole bed moving with every single thrust he makes. his free hand that's not on your clit spanks your ass again and again, his imprint clear and profound. pleasure rushes through you, and you can feel the pleasure taking over you fully again. “c-close,” you whimper out, quietly as your throat is strained from your moaning and crying. 

heeseung’s hand leaves your clit and pulls both of your arms around your body so they are interlocked on your lower back, he grips onto your arms and uses them as leverage as he begins a brutal pace of fucking into your pussy. the pace knocks all the wind out of your chest, your moans breaking and splitting. his hips smack into your ass, the sound filling the room. 

“fuck you’re taking me so well,” heeseung grunts out, “like a perfect slut.” 

you can’t even respond to him, you’re too focused on feeling everything. it all blurs together and she still needs more of it and him. 

“fuck i’m gonna cum!” you whine out, your words muffled into the pillow, your head falling to the side so you can look at him. 

“wait, baby– i’m almost there.” heeseung says. he can feel you struggling to hold back your third orgasm. your warm walls are convulsing around him, milking him, begging him to cum deep inside of you. he groans at the thought of his white cum dripping out of your soaked and swollen pussy. 

“please heeseung!” you cry out, “can’t!” 

heeseung lets go of your interlocked arms, they fall limp to your side. he grips your hips and starts fucking into you from another angle, “fuck okay okay! cum for me baby, let go!” his voice is strained as he reaches his own orgasm at the same time you reach yours. 

your walls clench around his throbbing shaft as it empties his remnants inside of you. you can hear him swearing and his hips start to stutter. both of you can feel his cum mixing with your juices. 

your shallow breaths fill the room as you try to calm down from the strong and final orgasm you have. the air in the room is thick around your two tired bodies. you can feel heeseung start to pull out of you so slowly and gently, but you still wince from the sensitivity. 

“look, y/n, watch.” heeseung says to you, his hands help you guide you onto your back, your legs spread open still so you can see his white cum leaking out of you. “fuck,” 

your moan leaves your mouth as you watch the sight in between your legs. his saliva, your juices and his cum all mixed around on your pussy and inner thighs. 

heeseung can’t help himself but grab his softening cock and swipe it along your used pussy lips. the tip of it swiping across your clit has you crying out and gripping the sheet underneath you, but your eyes don’t leave his movements. 

he gathers his fallen cum off your pussy and onto his cock and he looks at you, his eyes still lustful as ever, “taste it.” 

heeseung meets you in the middle as you use the rest of your weak energy to sit up and open your mouth, letting heeseung shove his cock back into your mouth, this time with his cum on it. you moan around him at the taste of the salty substance on your tongue. you softly sucked on his cock, wanting as much as his cum as you could get. heeseung hissed above you from sensitivity, but nonetheless let you suck his cock again. 

he just couldn’t get enough of you. 

when he finally gets himself to pull out of your mouth, heeseung helps you wash up, his hands surprisingly gentle and warm for a ghost, guiding you through each motion until you’re finally redressed correctly. he pulls back the covers and settles you into the bed, a room that’s neither his nor yours, but feels oddly safe with him beside you. he stretches out next to you.

"your psychic powers are so interesting, y/n," he says softly, eyes tracing your face. you manage a tired smile, whispering back, "i know."

heeseung’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. for a moment, you can feel his thumb lingering by your jaw, and your gaze locks onto his. but his smile fades, and something shifts in his expression, like a shadow crossing over his face.

"i guess i have to leave now," he says, voice low and final. "our deal is complete."

his words hit you like a wave, bringing you back to reality, grounding you in the truth you’d momentarily forgotten. heeseung is a ghost. you’re here to finish a job—to exorcize him from this house, to set him free. but as the realization sinks in, so does a strange, aching feeling in your chest, something heavy and unfamiliar. you’ve never felt this way before, not about a spirit, not about anyone.

you reach out and grab his arm, as if holding onto him could somehow stop him from slipping away. "don't go," you whisper, desperation lacing every word.

heeseung chuckles softly, shaking his head. "i have to, y/n. it was our deal. besides," he nods toward the hallway, "you have to go, too. the man of the house will be back soon."

reluctantly, you let your hand fall to your side, a hollow ache spreading in your chest as you watch him. "where will you go, heeseung?"

he shrugs, a ghostly smile crossing his lips. "everywhere."

you turn your face away, feeling the weight of everything you can't say pressing against you. you'll never see him again, never feel the electric hum his touch sends across your skin. the realization hits you hard—you have feelings for a ghost, and it’s breaking you apart. it’s not natural. 

heeseung reaches out, his cool hand cupping your jaw and gently turning you to face him. "you have a long life ahead of you, y/n," he says, voice low and soft. "don't get stuck in this part." you nod through the tears that fill your eyes, knowing he's right, but it doesn't make the goodbye any easier. 

"i’ll see you on the other side, y/n. i won’t forget you."

“i won’t forget you either, heeseung.”

heeseung's gaze softens, and he leans in, pressing a final kiss to your lips, a gentle brush. your eyes close, savoring the feeling. but when you open them again, you’re alone in the bed. 

you sit up slowly, glancing around the room. there's an emptiness now, a quietness that tells you heeseung is really gone. there’s no lingering energy, no faint presence lurking in the shadows. it’s just an ordinary house again.

you leave the bedroom and make your way to the front door, pulling out your checklist and marking off the final task. you scribble a quick report (leaving out the part where the spirit fucked your brains out). with a sigh, you click your pen closed and tuck everything back into your bag.

as you step outside, the cool evening air hits your face. you pause on the front step, glancing back at the house one last time. it looks as plain as you thought it did when you first arrived, but now it holds memories you know you'll carry with you for a long time.

taking a deep breath, you turn and start down the street, the soft glow of a lone streetlight casting long shadows as your shoes scuff against the scattered orange and yellow autumn leaves on the pavement.

heeseung is your only thought.

you wonder when you’ll see him again; unaware of his spirit watching you from the front step of the house you’d just left, a sick evil smile on his face as he turns and walks back into the house. 

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :) and happy halloween!!!

taglist :

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@llvrhee

[i0134]

𝖠𝖫𝖶𝖠𝖸𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴 ￣￣ㅤ 伏黒 恵

𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝗂𝖲 ✦ just downbad tsundere megumi 𝖶𝐶. 778

𝗀𝗇. fluff reader insert crack 𝗍𝗐. skinship profanities

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who always wears a stoic emotionless facade but crumbles as soon as he sees you. he blushes so hard, ears turning crimson at even the slightest mention of your name.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who fails to hold eye contact with you. you’re just so alluring, he loses his cool a bit too often when it comes to you.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who drops everything and anything for you. he's literally in the middle of a battle when he gets a call or text from you, he's immediately hiding in a corner so he could reply or call back. the way his slightly bruised lips curl up in a smile when he sees your text or hears your voice through the call, leaning against the asphalt and sighing in content.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who's been absentminded the entire gossip session, constantly checking his phone over and over again. "yo, you okay ?", yuji chirps. "what's the matter ? tell us", nobara inquires. "it's just she hasn't been replying to my text for 10 minutes", megumi reveals with a pout. nobara is speechless, while yuji tries to hold in a laugh and comfort his dear friend. ting! megumi urgently checks his phone in the speed of light, knocking yuji's nose in the process. he can't help but sigh and smile in relief when you reply.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who seems so cold and calm that nobody could believe he would be this smitten in love with you, even you're surprised that the boy is actually super shy and cute.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who literally short circuits when you give him any type of compliments or praise him. and if you give him physical affection? he might as well just die in peace. like that one time when he won a plushie for you from the claw machine, you decided to tiptoe and peck his cheek to thank him. guess what? he passed out on the spot for real. (yuji had to carry him lmao)

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who gives you huge privilege and don’t even get me started with the double standards sheesh. will never let yuji in his room willingly. but you? oh sweetie his room is your room too so make yourself at home <3. lets you touch his hair, summons the divine dogs so you could play with them, always holds your hand in public, sneaks you away from nobara and yuji so you two can hangout (just the two of you), always carries your bags, lets you go through his games too (yuji is so jealous of you huff).

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who struggles to comfort you when you are upset or crying because the sight makes his stomach churn too. so he summons his divine dogs and orders them to be affectionate with you, hugs you so softly and makes you rest your head on his shoulder.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who knows your order by heart. the things you like to eat or not, the flavours you love and don’t, the things you want to try out — everything, he knows everything and he's very very proud of it. wants to be the one to fulfill your wishes.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who always brings you souvenirs if he's out on a mission far away, he's also secretly saving up for you guys' future (shh). always defends you, even if you are in the wrong. because his lovesick brain can't believe anything or anyone but you.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who always tries to make time for you. he will literally reject gojo's fancy dinner treats or nobara-yuji's hangouts just to be with you. he missed you, he needs ''a you and him time'' desperately without having anyone third wheeling.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who hates physical touch (the way he gets so annoyed by gojo's affections) but if it's you then he's down no cap. lets you play with his hair, squish and cup his cheeks, hug him. looks at you with the most loverboy eyes. when you two are in private, he gets more affectionate and bold. he even pulls you close and guides your hands towards his head or cheeks — hinting you he wants head pats or cuddles.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who'll bounce on everyone and anyone who dares to badmouth you or misbehave with you. one nasty look towards your direction and he's at their throat. you’ll have to step in and soothe his anger, cause he loses control whenever it comes to you. will only listen to you if you tell him to stop.

𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇𝖻𝖺𝖽!𝗆𝖾𝗀𝗎𝗆𝗂 who just loves you so so so much. it's hard for him to convey it through words but he tries his best to show you through emotions, acts and sometimes even through affections. always looks out for you ++ lots of piggyback rides.

( 📓 ) : might've went overboard but megumi is my pookie

[chrissdollie]

Dad Bakugo x mom reader - I need more children in my life 😭✋🏾

def calls his kid "squirt" and "buddy"

in mY universe, he has a boy and a girl bc he needs the best of both worlds

CALLS YOU "MA" GOODNIGHT

we all know he wakes up really early, earlier than you even, so he's the one to check on the babies/kids every morning to see if they're ok :)

definitely keeps schedules of you and your kids days like exams, report cards, if they're going to a friend's house, etc

yk how most kids tend to be like "ewwww" whenever their parents kiss?? not ur kids nono. first of all, your son is the quieter one. not that he's not talkative, he just has a little bit of a hard time expressing himself. anyhow, his sister is very loud. but either way, they both think its sweet. your daughter even said something like "i hope my husband kisses me like that" once (when she was an older kid tho lol)

your son goes to talk to you a lot. he adores you so so much. but one day when he wanted to hang out with you, you weren't home. you were busy running errands while katsuki was at home watching tv. your son started crying and katsuki was like wtf?? eventually, your son grew accustomed to speaking to katsuki. as he got older, he actually talked to him more than you.

teaches your son how to be a man :,) katsuki knew he was bitchy in his younger years and he didn't want either of his kids to be like him. he taught them both manners and how to properly have a conversation.

little pitter patter of their feet ran into your guys' shared bedroom on christmas morning and began jumping your bed. katsuki groaned and rubbed his eyes aggressively. "it's christmas, mommy!" your little boy shouted. "wake up daddy!!" your daughter shouted in his ear. "alright alright you rugrats"

at your daughter's kindergarten graduation (idk if everyone had this but i did lmao), katsuki was tearing up and although he tried to hide it, he had to remain the strong one while comforting you while you bawled your eyes out.

p.s your daughter is the oldest

when she brought home her first boyfriend... ooo chile

i see a lot of people writing how katsuki would act up but tbh in his older years, i think he'd be a lot more mature. he'd greet the dude politely and treat him like he would any of her friends

btw lemme just say: your daughter is a mommy AND daddy's girl. she loves u both insanely

honestly while eating dinner with the boyfriend or something, katsuki would be very blunt and not pay too much mind to him LMAOO he'd be like "'tis is great, doll" as if you don't cook dinner every week and it's only when your daughter brings up how he wants to work at katsuki's angency, where he perks up

"oh shit, no kiddin'?" and you smack his arm lightly.

well this changes everything! he practically gave the kid his blessing. "welcome to the family son"

your son doesn't really care about them together, he just doesn't wanna see his big sis get hurt. lets say that your son is 15 and your daughter is 17. "so, bf/n. have you fucked her?"

you almost spit out your drink like a cartoon. your daughter is shook, katsuki's rage from UA is all coming back to him, and the boyf is scared for his life

you, katsuki, and your daughter have a little talk after dinner

"use condoms" kats stated. "i- WH- nono you can have sex next year." you corrected but ur daughter is like huh?? "wha why next year?" you scoff. "because you'll be a legal adult thats why." "no offense, momma, but that's really dumb. when did you and dad start having sex?" she folded her arms. katsuki shrugged. "like i said, use condoms."

you and your daughter gossip like crazy alr?? ur like the gilmore girls except you're married and didn't get pregnant at 16 (almost)

and this is nothing new to katsuki, he's heard u guys gossip trillions of times. but when he found out you guys talked abouy HIM TOO??

he busts into the room. your daughter squeals and runs behind you. "hi honeyy-" he shushes you, "you guys talkin' shit 'bout me?" "nope" you guys say in unison. "there's this other guy, uh.."

[world0fmadness]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ LOVELY VOICE

lando norris x voice actress! reader

featuring: a bisexual reader and lando being obsessed with reader

faceclaim: assorted

୨୧ i know pride month has just passed but let me be! the timing for all of the games is completely wrong but once again, it’s fanfic, just let me be… i’m really just sticking with this short and sweet formula, i like short and sweet things, i no longer care about trying to stretch them to be as long as possible because longer ≠ better

୨୧ related hc available here and here

reading music recommendations: in the flood by ariana gillis - blood upon the snow by hozier - warning call by chvrches

ynln: had an incredible time at the game awards last night! met so many amazing people, the event had a great energy and oh! i won best voice actress for my role as aloy in horizon forbidden west! holy shit! thank you so much to everyone who voted for me and congratulations to the other winners ♥️

landonorris ✔️: there goes my girl!

❤️ liked by ynln

landonorris✔️: so so so proud of you love, your awards outshine mine ❤️

❤️ liked by ynln

> ynln ✔️: thank you lan but don’t make me laugh <3

> landonorris ✔️: what? i’m telling the truth

ynlovevoice: DESERVED! your voice acting in this game in particular was insane

lewishamilton ✔️: congratulations yn! was watching the event, your speech was great ❤️ here’s to many more wins, i’m sure! 🥂

❤️ liked by ynln and landonorris

> ynln ✔️: thanks lewis! means a lot coming from you ♥️

loveuyn: oh my god her and lando looked so good 🫣

> lanyn: hottest couple there and they knew it

oldf1lvr: when the camera panned over to her after she won, you could literally see lando cheering SO loud right in her ear 😭

> lanyn: i hope her hearing is okay lmao

> seyloy1: he was hyping his girl UP 💔 he had a facebook mom moment with his phone too, taking pictures of her on stage when there was literally like 10 professional cameras doing it for him 😭

oscarpiastri ✔️: you both looked terrible, truly… congratulations on the win yn!

> landonorris ✔️: i know you’re jealous oscar but there’s no reason to lie, is there?

❤️ liked by ynln

> ynln ✔️: because i’m feeling nice tonight, i’ll just ignore that first part! thank you oscar…

ynln: behind the scenes of my upcoming game, judas! i’ll be voicing a very different character to my usuals so stay tuned 👀

loveuyn: ANOTHER YN VOICED CHARACTER? she is spoiling us this year guys omg…

landonorris ✔️: can’t wait for this one, love ❤️

❤️ liked by ynln

> lanyn: he’s so supportive of her i can’t 😭

> iluvf1: supportive? he’s downright obsessed with her! he literally has every figurine ever released of all of her characters lmao

> ynln ✔️: can’t wait for you to play this one ♥️

> landonorris ✔️: …dotface 🙃

> ynln ✔️: i thought we were over this…

> landonorris ✔️: i can hear you laughing in the kitchen

❤️ liked by ynln

> oscarpiastri ✔️: why are you commenting back and forth when you’re in the same house? christ…

> landonorris ✔️: leave us alone oscar, we’re in looove, something you will unfortunately never experience

> oscarpiastri ✔️: whatever…

> landonorris ✔️: ohhh someone is salty 💔

> ynln ✔️: lando enough omg 😭

seyloy1: are we getting yn as a major antagonist for once? i’d dieee 🫣

> loveuyn: no but really… she’d make such a hot major antagonist… she already went crazy as bela in resident evil village and that was a minor antagonist…

ynlovevoice: she’s so cute oh my god…

> loveuyn: there really is two sides to yn fans, the people that find her cute and the people that find her hot… i’m the latter 🫢

landonorris: my girl has been working so hard for her next game! took her karting as a reward ❤️ check out the trailer here, i’ll be playing it on stream so tune in then!

ynln ✔️: ah yes, MY reward!

> landonorris ✔️: you loved it!

❤️ liked by ynln

> ynln ✔️: i guess i did, thank you lan ♥️

❤️ liked by landonorris

> oscarpiastri ✔️: you guess? you were bouncing off the walls begging to keep going even as the place was closing…

> ynln ✔️: this is why you’re always a third wheel and it’s never a double date, no one likes a sourpuss

❤️ liked by landonorris

lanyn: they’re so so cute together… when will it be my turn? 💔

oscarpiastri ✔️: never coming karting with you two again, she nearly took my leg off and you egged her on

> landonorris ✔️: sounds like you should’ve kept your legs inside the kart

> ynln ✔️: yeah, sounds like another you problem

> oscarpiastri ✔️: it’s always a me problem…

❤️ liked by landonorris and ynln

ynln: happy pride month! as a member of the lgbt+ community, the importance of genuine representation in media is something i hold dearly to my heart ♥️ here’s to all of the wonderful wlw characters i’ve voiced 🏳️‍🌈

oscarpiastri ✔️: happy pride, loser

> ynln ✔️: loser? well at least that means i’m still miles cooler than you oscar ❤️

> landonorris ✔️: ohhh burn, oscar, go cool off in a ice bath

> oscarpiastri ✔️: wasn’t even a good “burn”… i hate it here

loveuyn: i wouldn’t be surprised if they named their future child clementine, given how much that character means yn 🥹

> iluvf1: i’m not a gamer, can you explain why?

> loveuyn: it was the first character yn ever voiced at age 9, then 11, then 13 and finally 16! she basically grew alongside her character and has expressed how much she loves her

landonorris ✔️: happy pride, love! SEYLOY FOR LIFE ❤️

❤️ liked by ynln

> lanyn: lando being a #1 seyloy shipper will always be the absolute cutest thing to me 😭

> landonorizz: right? instead of being a weird ass bf that gets stupidly jealous, he ships her characters with other characters

lewishamilton ✔️: happy pride month yn, sending lots of love your way ❤️

❤️ liked by ynln and landonorris

> ynln ✔️: love from lewis, what everyone wants but only some can have, thanks lew!

> ynln ✔️: oh and happy pride right back at you

> oldf1lvr: omg 😭

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

lando has some trauma

[enjisbf]

Hungry man

° Pairing: Enji Todoroki x fem!reader

word count: 935 words

summary: During the first heat spent together, Enji finally gets a taste of your slick. Also, reader has a quirk that gives her bunny attributes (ears and tail + behaviour)

warnings: nsfw (duh), lots of pet names, fingering (fem receiving from herself and m), praises and thigh riding! (if i missed anything, pls tell me!)

author's notes: I need to get this out there before it consumes my whole being, folks. This is basically the origin of pussywhipped!enji lmao. The idea wouldn't leave my mind ever since I revisited this fic by @nyxronomicon (great great great writer by the way, i devour all of their fics so check it out <3). Actually, that fic could be the continuity of this one if you don't think too hard. Anywayz, I'm rambling I know most of you just want the unhinged thoughts sooo hope you enjoy !!! <3 Again, any mispells or mistakes left are my fault ;-; (tried to proofread it but blergh boring)

⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╯╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅─

The first time Enji had gotten a taste of your sweet ambrosia, it had been an accident. It happened during your first heat spent together. You were being such a sweet bunny now that he thinks about it, playing with yourself so he could rest after the rigorous day spent together for the first time.  

However, you couldn’t help yourself. Your fingers were no match to his thicker ones, you were twisting and flicking your wrist in vain, trying to find the right rhythm. Growing frustrated, whines turned higher pitched, trying all sorts of positions to ease the tight knot in your tummy.  

With all the noises leaving your mouth, it was inevitable for the flame hero to slowly arouse from slumber. Eyelids still heavy with sleep, he rubbed his eyes while sitting up against the headboard to pull you onto his lap, but Enji didn’t account for his pretty bunny to be so pent up that she just straddled his thigh and started riding it. 

Now, Enji was a strong man and his stamina had to be good to be Japan’s number one hero, but he was only a simple man at the end of it. So, when this simple man saw his good bunny desperate to rub her clit on his strong thigh, he couldn’t do anything but watch. Well watch and flex the muscle under her.  

“Fuck, baby, look at you being such a good bunny.” His dick was probably crying from all the action it had gotten, but fuck, it was still trying its best when the flame hero heard his bunny’s whines. “My pretty baby was trying to let me rest, huh love? Don’t worry about that next time. It’s all yours, my legs, -” He flexed his thigh once more for good measure. A whimper escaping your mouth at his words and at the added pressure, making the friction on your bundle of nerves so much better. “my fingers an-” He quickly shut his mouth when you grabbed his right hand and directed it near your lower puffy lips while continuing to ride him.  

“Enji, fuck Jiji, please please can I have your fingers. Please, they’re so much bigger and fuck- I- I just want them in me, baby.”  

Did Enji die and wake up in paradise? Here you were, your slick covering his upper leg, your mouth in a pretty pout, your pupils taking over your irises, lust painted all over your face, and you were begging for him to finger you. You were so good, waiting for his approval, for his ‘yes’ even if he could see tremors taking hold of your body from the frustration dancing in your bones.  

In awe of his luck, the number one hero just nodded in response to your pleas. His fingers pressed on your puffy lips when you stopped directing him. Of course, you were just waiting for him to finally easy the knot in your stomach, but your Jiji seemed to be in a lust haze thinking you were waiting for his fingers to be less dry. It didn’t matter that your slick was plenty enough already. Enji couldn’t feel, see nor think clearly.  

So, as Japan’s best hero, he executed the best course of action, sucking his fingers. You, on the other hand, were on the verge of tears, when you felt his fingers leave your wet cunt. Your frustration didn’t get the chance to be voiced out when you heard Enji’s groan.  

He couldn’t believe it. As his fingertips grazed his tastebuds, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t had a taste beforehand. Your slick was coating his fingers, coating his tongue, mixing in with his saliva, dripping down his throat. He audibly groaned at the taste of yourself. He had to get more, he needed to have more. He licked every last drop of your juices before parting ways with his slick covered fingers.  

“Fuck, think you can give me more of that, bunny?” You just nodded your head at him, excited to have his fingers back to yourself now. “Yes, yes, yes, just- please please just make the pain go away, Jiji.” Your lover cooed at you as two of his thick fingers thrust in one stroke in your pussy, making you cry out from the relief. His bunny was chanting Thank you’s, love and lust dancing around every letter, syllable escaping your throat.   

He couldn’t wait to get his mouth on your ambrosia once more, but first he had to make you feel better. Had to see just how well you took him whether it be his cock, his fingers and fuck his tongue soon.  

It didn’t take much from the hero to make you cum, you were already on the edge of an orgasm, on the cusp of it from all your attempts earlier, you riding his thigh, and now his fingers. Finally, you felt the knot in your stomach untangling itself, coming loose. Incoherent words and noises graced Enji’s ears as he worked you through your orgasm. His eyes glancing from your face to the arousal leaking out of your lips to his fingers. 

The both of you knew that it wouldn’t take long before the pain would come back in your stomach, but before you could voice out anything, the number one spoke up. His eyes sparkling at the idea of drinking directly from you.  

“Fuck, bunny, think you can give me another one?”  

Suffice to say that that night, Enji Todoroki learnt a new skill, because who would you be to pass up that kind of service from your beloved? <3  

[thelov3lybookworm]

Cat claws

Day 2: Scarred.

Summary: Maybe he can forgive Nuts.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1177

Warnings: cat being mean to hazel :(

A/n: azzie just loses his mind in tis lmao nd you cant blame him hazel's the most adorable little thing ever 🥹 yall just wait till she begins talking azs going to sob his eyes out (subtle foreshadowing 🎀)

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel watched, amused, as Hazel attempted to crawl towards the black furry creature that sat in the corner licking its paw.

Hazel had only started crawling a week or so ago, and Azriel absolutely loved watching her drag herself around. It was often amusing to see her get angry when the carpet slowed down her movements when it caught on her clothes, or when she bumped into the couch and glared at it.

She would always turn to search for Azriel when that happened, letting out the loudest yell her tiny body could muster as if ordering him to get rid of the offending item.

Even barely eight months old, Y/n always said Hazel had her father’s ability to glare and grumble.

Azriel always scoffed in return to that statement before forcing himself to stop and realise him being grumpy only proved his mate’s words to be true.

Hazel was currently looking at her father with her brows furrowed, and Azriel blinked, coming back to the present as he realised she was trying to move over the carpet. He grinned at the anger on her face and stood, bending down once he was close enough to pick her up.

He set her down closer to the cat Y/n had insisted on getting after Hazel’s birth, her reasoning being that their daughter needed a friend and then named him Nuts.

Hazel and her best friend Nuts.

‘Get it? Hazel-Nuts’ She had giggled.

It made Azriel laugh back when she had suggested it, but soon enough he’d realised she was not joking. At all.

Azriel watched on with a smile as Hazel reached Nuts and tried to grab his fur. Nuts walked away without a look in her direction, which always pissed Azriel off. Who did the creature think it was?

"Azriel, that’s a cat. He does not understand how to act with a baby-" Y/n called out from the kitchen, having peeked into the living room to see what had caused her mate to get so mad that his emotions reached her through the bond.

"Well how long does it take to learn? I swear to the mother one day I'm kicking him out if he continues to bully my daughter."

Azriel heard Y/n sigh and walk closer to him as Hazel crawled towards Nut again. He now sat closer to the hearth, where a fire burned red to ward off the winter chill that was beginning to set over Velaris.

"Az-"

But Azriel did not hear the rest of Y/n’s sentence.

His ears began ringing as he stepped forward as if in a daze, eyes sharp on the raised paw of Nuts, who, having seen Hazel get close to him again, tried to hit her.

The firelight glinted off his claws.

And then Hazel’s loud cries filled the room as her head reared back, eyes clenched shut in pain.

She had a habit of flopping on her back when she was mad. Azriel had never really worried too much about that particular habit of Hazel’s until now, when she was too close to the fire and the tiniest movement would end up with her-

No, Azriel did not want to complete the thought.

In that moment of panic, Azriel did not care that there was a glass covering separating the fire from the room, and that no matter what Hazel did, she would not be able to be burned.

In that moment all that mattered to Azriel was that the fucking cat living in his house had the audacity to hurt his daughter.

Azriel grabbed Hazel, frantically looking over her to check for her injuries. There weren’t any big claw marks, but the tiny scratch on the chubby flesh of her upper arm connecting it to her shoulder made Azriel see red.

He turned to glare at Y/n as he pulled Haze close.

"I am telling you Y/n. If by the time I return, that bastard is not out of this house, I will drop him into the sidra myself."

Y/n’s eyes were helpless, but Azriel did not wait for a moment longer as he walked out of the main door and took flight, his only mission to find Madja and get his daughter healed.

He did not want her to be scarred like the hands cradling her.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Flying back home, Azriel decided that he needed some time alone to figure out why he had reacted so harshly.

He knew Y/n had been right. Nuts was an animal. He did not understand how to treat babies. But Azriel did not want to admit that.

The stars were out, so clearly visible as Azriel flew his daughter back home. It had been over an hour since he’d left the house in such a hurry, wishing he could strangle the cat.

He had taken to the skies after Madja had assured him that Hazel would be fine, and had his emotions not been so high and panicked, maybe Hazel wouldn’t have cried at all. After long moments of being assured by Madja, Azrie finally calmed down and left.

"I’m sorry baby. Did I scare you?" Azriel mumbled, glancing down at his daughter who stared up at the sky with wide eyes. She only giggled back in answer.

The innocence in the sound made Azriel smile.

The smile faded just as quick as it had come when his eyes fell on his hands cradling her head and back.

They once were soft and smooth like Hazel’s. They once had grabbed his own parents hand with as much love as he now grasped his daughters. Only now, they were uglier.

If Y/n heard his thoughts, she would have yelled at him and forced him to say they were beautiful. But Azriel knew better. They weren’t, and they never would be.

The only thing he liked even a little about his hands was the fact that their texture was so different from other’s hands, Hazel always immediately figured out she was in her father’s arms.

Y/n always talked about how the same scarred hands he despised were the reason she and Hazel felt safe. Those words echoed back to Azriel when he began doubting himself. It always made him feel better.

Hazel squealed loudly when Azriel dipped lower, air pushing gently against her back.

She was so pure, so innocent. She did not even know of the cruel world she was born in.

And Azriel swore to keep it that way. He had hoped the world outside his father’s dungeon would be better, once, and quickly realised that there were people in the world that would pounce at the chance to scar innocent souls just for the sadistic pleasure of ruining their lives.

He did not want her soul to turn out as scarred as his too.

As he finally landed on the front porch of his home and heard loud meow’s coming from inside, he contemplated letting the cat stay.

Maybe a cat’s claw scratch was not that bad.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[edenesth]

[4:43 AM]

With a faint groan, you rubbed your eyes groggily, realising you had dozed off once more while waiting for Hongjoong to wrap up in his studio – or so he claimed hours ago.

Retrieving your phone to check the time, you sighed, "It's almost five in the morning, captain. Are you close to finishing up?"

Cursing inwardly, your boyfriend turned towards you, wearing a sheepish smile as if just realising the current time, "I'm really sorry, baby. I could have sworn it was only two o'clock just five minutes ago. Just bear with me for a moment longer; I'm saving my progress, and then we can head home."

Perched on the couch behind him, you shot a surprised glance at the generous opening of his shirt. Narrowing your eyes with a hint of suspicion, you crossed your arms over your chest, "Yah, Kim Hongjoong. Are you trying to seduce me?"

He blinked, trying to comprehend what you were referring to until he followed your gaze and looked down at his attire. Only then did he grasp the extent of the undone buttons. After a moment, a smirk played on his lips, his heart swelling with affection as he relished the adorably sleepy expression on your face while you pouted at him.

"Perhaps I am. It looks like I struggle with buttoning my shirt properly. Would you mind doing it for me?" He teased, powering off his PC and moving over to sit beside you. His hands instinctively found yours as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "Or... would you prefer to undo them all for me instead?"

His suggestive words elicited a gasp from you, and you playfully slapped his chest, "Are you serious? We're in your workplace!"

Grinning, he held your hand against his chest, "So, does that mean if we were at home right now, you would have welcomed this idea wholeheartedly, hm?"

"Y-you—"

Before you could utter anything further, he was already intoxicated by the comforting fragrance of your perfume, leaning in to capture your lips and silence you.

Your eyes widened at his sudden boldness, considering he had always been reserved about public displays of affection, especially at his workplace where colleagues could walk in at any moment. You figured that sleep deprivation must be getting to him, daring him to take such a risk. After a few unsuccessful attempts to push him away, you surrendered, closing your eyes and kissing him back, melting into his embrace.

Maybe you should have trusted your instincts and stopped things before they reached a point of no return.

The next thing you knew, the door to his studio creaked open, and the voice of his producer, Eden, sounded, "Hongjoong-ah, you're still here? Go home already. Your poor girlfriend must be exhausted waiting—"

He stood still at the entrance as both of you jumped apart, "W-well, it looks like she's not too tired, but that's all the more reason to go home, right? Please don't taint the studio."

You buried your face in your hands as your boyfriend's cheeks flushed deep red. He nodded vigorously, "Y-yes, hyung! We're leaving now!"

After Eden left, you shot him a glare, and he scoffed, pulling you onto your feet and into his waiting arms, "Don't give me that look as if you didn't kiss me back just as eagerly."

Your heart raced at his following words, "Come on, let's hurry home. We should probably finish what we started."

"You need sleep, Joong."

"Not until I have you first, baby."

ATEEZ Masterlist

I know I said I was gonna start working on my thesis but GOOD LORD, I could not get producer Joong out of my mind. Also, thank you so much for 1.2k followers, holy crap!

Hope y'all enjoyed this random timestamp lmao as always, thanks for reading and lmk your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[stormberry-12]

the pogues/ESPECIALLY JJ would protect innocent!reader SO MUCH. like she could be the youngest or something and they would go back for her (for ex. when they had to leave jb in s3). anyways jj would so definitely say something like, “you’re like their little sister, but you’re MY girl.” yk

my woman ~ jj maybank x reader

Ahh yes, I totally agree, and I LOVE the innocent!reader and JJ trope>>>

pairing: jj x innocent!fem!reader

warnings: slight language, reader in danger, mega fluff.

notes: lowercase intended, this was made late at night and not rlly edited srry if its bad lmao, not from season 3 but a close concept. :)

you shifted around and felt the sun on your face as your eyes fluttered open. you were in the twinkie bumping along a winding road, clinging onto jj, who was sitting in his seat, like a koala. or as jay called it, "the front pack", it was like a piggyback but on his front because he always wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.

you shifted your legs around his torso and lifted your head from the crook of his neck.

"hiya, cupcake," he whispered softly, taking one of his arms that was wrapped around you and moving it so he could brush strands of hair from out of your eyes. "good nap?"

you nodded, wiping the sleep from your eyes, and he smiled. you suddenly recalled how you had gotten here and relief washed over you.

you were running through alleyways on the cut, you felt betrayed. where had the pogues gone? they were there with you five seconds ago and now you were running away from those bloody square groupers alone.

over by the pogues, jj was having a mental breakdown, "where did she go man?"

"damn it!" john b exclaimed."pope, i thought she was behind you when we cut down this way!

"we have to go back for her-" jj houghed.

"i don't know jay..."

"no... no. we have to." he held his hat in one hand and ran the other through his hair in distress.

"he's right, we have to." pope agreed.

"come on man, we finally lost those guys and now you want to follow em?" john b sighed.

"jb you of all people should understand, she's like a little sister to you man! she's still only 16 and this kind of stuff scares the shit out of her, i can't do that to her guys-"

"john b we're going after her," kie pleaded.

"god! we're wasting time, i'm gonna go after her, even if i have to do it by myself!" jj ran off in your last seen direction. john b gave in and followed along with the rest of the pogues, they all knew jj was right, and their group wouldn't survive without you.

as you continued to run, blood pumping through your ears, you looked for the best spot to hide behind, trying to throw them off. you slid behind a large dumpster and listened as the sets of footsteps of the two men ran past you.

you waited a moment, calming your breathing before you moved from behind the bin. you jumped as the footsteps came back in your direction, but instead of those square groupers, it was jj and the pogues.

"y/n!" j sighed in relief scooping you up into his arms. "I'm so sorry, that will never happen again-"

you just stood there too exhausted to complain, your face buried in his chest. john b brought the twinkie around the corner and you all piled in, driving off into the night.

"you came back for me," you smiled at your boyfriend wrapping your arms around his neck, still facing him on his lap.

"of course," jj said. "you know you're like their little sister, we honestly would fall apart without you... and your my girl."

"your girl?" you giggled.

"my girl, my woman, my soulmate." he repeated smoothly pressing his forehead to yours and closing his eyes. "you sure you're okay?"

"yeah," you said, leaning into his touch, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. "perfect,"