#and then realize i need to go back and focus on earlier things to make the drama more painful

[lordgrimwing]

First Meetings #08 / At The Park #02

Heavy clouds hung over the park as Celebrían parked the minivan in the dirt lot dotted with a handful of other vehicles. The clouds rolled in about an hour ago, contrary to the very optimistic weather report that morning of sunny skies and highs in the low eighties. Despite the threat of rain, Elladan and Elrohir insisted they still wanted to go to a park, so here they were: picnic basket packed and dressed for a potentially wet adventure. 

(sixteen-year-old Arwen declined the invitation to the soggy outing, citing hanging out with friends later as a reason to not risk getting muddied)

“Here we are,” she said to the twins as she turned off the van.

“Woohoo,” Elladan cheered as they undid their seatbelts and scrambled out of the vehicle. 

Oh, for the enthusiasm of ten-year-olds, Celebrían thought with a shake of her head. She got out of the car, retrieved the picnic basket, and headed for the covered pavilion. The boys could run off some energy in the field or on the playset before lunch and before the rain started, with any luck. She’d reassess the situation after eating to see if they should head home yet. 

The park was nearly deserted, not surprising with the gloomy weather. The only other person she could see was a guy with long pale hair sitting on a bench near the hill that went down to the duck pond. She picked a table under the empty pavilion and sat down. Reaching into the basket, she retrieved her computer. She would put it away when the rain started, but until then she wanted to review the family’s budgets. The kids teamed up earlier in the week to ask their parents to please let them go on a fun trip before school started again. Elrond and she were currently in the phase of discussing what was feasible, both financially and logistically.  

The wind picked up slowly, prompting her to zip up the light coat she brought with her. Looking up, she saw the twins on the swings, seeing who could go the highest. 

The first fat drops of rain plunked against the aluminum roof as she finished and put the computer away. The wind blew the drops sideways as they fell, but her spot in the middle of the covered area wasn’t at risk of getting wet provided the wind didn’t get much fiercer. Looking up again, she didn’t see the twins (they probably went down to the duck pond), but the guy reading on the bench was walking toward the pavilion, shoulders hunched against the elements, book tucked under one arm. 

“Hello,” she said with a polite smile as the elf (she hadn’t been sure before but she was now) settled at the other table that wasn’t starting to accumulate little puddles on the bench.

“Hi. I suppose the brown-haired boys are yours,” he said, voice lightly accented.

“Yes,” she said, unsure where this was going. Conversations with strangers at parks were usually about mundane things, but sometimes someone (usually an elf) had opinions about her family based on her children’s ears. This guy, with so much hair he must spend at least half an hour on it every morning, looked like he might be one of those who wanted to air their narrow view on interracial marriage. 

He continued, oblivious to her thoughts. “They’ve joined my kid hunting for frogs in the pond. If he has his way, they won’t be back until they're soaked, but maybe yours will be a moderating influence.” He laughed a little to himself.

“They don’t mind the rain,” she said, relaxing. “Lunch is waiting, though, so that might sway them.”

“Ah, stratagem.” He set the book on the table, giving up any pretenses of going back to reading rather than talking. He pivoted on the bench to look at her better. She noticed opaque scarring in his left eye. It was a little surprising but she didn’t stare. “Should never go on an outing with kids without a way to entice them to come back when it’s time to go.”

“I guess so.” She suddenly imagined making a snack trail back to the car like some kind of fairytale. 

There was a pause in the conversation as she brushed the ridiculous thought aside and he looked out through the rain toward the hidden pond.

When her thoughts were mostly called back from their fanciful trip, she asked, “Where in Doriath are you from?”

He looked at her, mild surprise showing on his face. 

Oh, was she wrong? She’d spent enough time in the country while growing up that she was fairly confident in her ability to recognize the regional accents, even if she couldn’t quite place where each was from anymore. But maybe she was wrong this time. She opened her mouth to apologize for assuming—it wasn’t any of her business, anyway.

“Most people don’t guess with that much confidence,” he said mildly.

“My father’s from Menegroth. I spent a lot of time there on and off when I was young,” she explained, hoping he wasn’t offended by her assumption. She really shouldn’t have phrased it like that or asked at all really. Growing up, she’d moved to so many different countries to follow her mother’s career that she was inured to asking and answering questions about where people were from. It wasn’t like that for everyone, of course—her experience was a bit unique. 

“Sorry, I should have at least introduced myself before asking that,” she said as the rain began pelting down harder. “Hi, I’m Celebrían.”

“Hello, Celebrían.” He pronounced her name in the same way as her father did. “I’m Thranduil. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“How familiar are you with the country outside the capital?” He asked, apparently willing to go back to her original question.

“A bit. I spent a summer in Nan Elmoth.”

He contemplated her for a moment. “I lived in West Region. More recently, I’m from a few miles south of here.”

She’d been to East Region once to see the eponymous holly trees blanketed in snow (Celeborn later said he never would have forgiven himself if she’d missed out on the classic Doriadhrim childhood experience of hiding in the natural snow forts formed under the trees’ low branches), but the holly was probably what the region was best known for outside of Doriath so she wasn’t going to blurt that out.

“Oh, nice,” she said instead. “I think I have a great-aunt who lives there.” Then, because he’d pointed the conversation to where he was currently from, “it was a bit of a drive out here for me, but the boys wanted to come here again.”

“It’s a nice park,” Thranduil agreed. “There’s a trail, about a mile long, from here to an artificial wetland full of frogs and bugs. Legolas is a fan.”

Legolas must be his son. “Thanks, that’s nice to know. I had no idea.” That could come in handy when it came time for the twins to make bug collections for school.

Just then, a blond head peaked over the hill from the duck pond. A small boy came into view, soaking wet, with mud plastered to his shoes and bare shins and what looked like pond weed in his hair. Elladan and Elrohir came just behind him, windbreakers zipped and hoods up against the rain. They were also wet but clearly from the rain and not from playing in the muck of the shallow pond.

“Legolas,” Thranduil called to the little boy, who couldn’t have been much older than seven or eight. Despite his youth, he had long hair like his father (though more wavy than straight) that would take a considerable amount of time to get clean again. “Where’s your backpack?”

His hands came up as he spoke, and Celebrían realized he was signing. Was his child deaf?

Legolas pointed a muddy finger at Elrohir, who did have the strap of a red backpack flung over one shoulder. His hand then came up to wiggle in front of his face.

Thranduil snorted. “No, you’re silly,” he said, repeating the sign.

Celebrían stood up and unpacked the picnic basket as the three children arrived at the pavilion. They’d made lunch meat and cabbage sandwiches before leaving, Arwen pitching in too lest her brothers create some horrid combination (and so she could eat the pickle slices). There were carrots and apple slices, too.

“How was the pond?” She asked as Elladan and Elrohir plopped down on the bench.

“Super fun,” Elrohir reported. “We saw a lot of frogs and minnows.”

Elladan nodded in vigorous agreement as he bit into a sandwich. “Legolas knows all kinds of stuff about frogs. Don’t you?” He said through a mouthful of bread, good-naturedly nudging Legolas (who’d sat down between the twins instead of going over to his dad) with an elbow.

“Frogs,” the little elf murmured, his hands coming up to form more signs.  

“Frogs are his favorite,” Thranduil said, scooting to the end of his table so he could see his son better. He watched his hands move. “He likes the sounds they make and how they swim.”

“Did you catch any?” Celebrían asked. 

Her sons shook their heads, mouths full. Legolas’s eyes widened and then he shook his head vigorously and looked at his dad.

Smiling, Thranduil said, “We don’t touch frogs. We could make them sick or hurt them if we aren’t careful.”

A little bemused, she unwrapped her own sandwich as Legolas waved Elladan and Elrohir down to his level to whisper in their ears. The rest of lunch continued in a similar manner, part in signs and part in whispered conversations. She offered food to Thranduil—who politely declined—and Legolas—who shook his head and dug around in his flimsy backpack to retrieve a battered peanut butter sandwich.

The rain let up while they ate and talked, the sun suddenly peeking out bravely from behind the clouds. Thrilled, Elladan and Elrohir cleaned up their trash so they could go play again. Legolas jumped up to join them.

“Wait,” Thranduil said, snagging a dangling strap on the backpack that his son had put back on after eating his lunch so he couldn’t run away. “It’s about time to go.”

The child’s face fell. He raised his hands. Celebrían tried not to stare at the signing, but it was interesting to see how expressive the boy’s face was. He was plainly asking a question, even when there was no tone of voice to listen to.

“We can go now or stay ten more minutes, but if we stay then we won’t have time for the library today. Which do you want?”

Staying won out, and Legolas ran off after the twins who’d stopped halfway to the playground when they realized he wasn’t following them.

 Celebrían watch them go together to play. “Well,” she said, starting to put away the leftovers. “Your son is sweet.”

“He has his moments.” Thranduil’s tone suggested ‘moments’ meant ‘every moment of the day’. “What are your boys’ names, again?”

She’d said their names during lunch but wasn’t surprised he hadn’t caught which was which. “The one in the blue coat is Elladan. The one in green is Elrohir.”

“Elladan and Elrohir. Legolas likes them,” he said with a contemplative expression. “He doesn’t normally use his voice this much, especially with strangers.” 

She didn’t say anything to that. During lunch, she realized the child wasn’t deaf, but she felt like she’d risked putting her foot in her mouth enough today so she didn’t ask about it. She was curious, but that didn’t give her leave to ask personal questions. Elrond got so frustrated when strangers kept asking questions about his parents because he was visibly mixed-race. Even if questions were asked innocently, it wasn’t anyone’s responsibility to explain their existence. 

The ten-minute limit drew close.

Thranduil pulled a notebook and pen out of his pants pocket. He tore out a page and wrote a series of numbers down before offering it to her. “This is my cell number,” he explained. “I think Legs would really like to play with your kids again.”

She took the paper and slipped it into her coat pocket. “Sounds possible. I’m always looking for excuses to get them outside.”

He stood and dusted off his pants. “Right. I’d better go, or we will end up being late. I look forward to hearing from you, Celebrían.”

“Have a good day,” she said by way of good-bye as he picked up his book and headed for the playset where the kids were racing up and down the slides. 

She would talk to Elladan and Elrohir on the drive home and find out how they felt about setting up a time to play with Legolas again.

[keeps-ache]

gonna keep it shmoovin man

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Where You Belong

Prompt: you're caught in the middle of a tornado, tyler's there in the aftermath.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: angst, blood mention

A/N: surprise surprise, & not what i usually write, but twisters has recently been consuming my entire life. so here's an angsty lil imagine of hurt reader being comforted by the wrangler himself.

You made it about fifteen minutes down the road before you realized that you’d forgotten your phone… Again. 

After patting down your pockets and digging through your tote bag the best you could without crashing the car– you straightened yourself in the driver’s seat and sighed defeatedly. 

Stupid, you thought. Although you weren’t really that surprised by your mistake. You’d never been particularly attached to your phone, and this certainly wasn’t the first time you’d left it behind. 

But you’d been trying to be more mindful about remembering it. And just like that, Tyler’s voice popped into your head– no doubt scolding you for your carelessness. ‘What if something happened and I had to get a hold of ya?’ 

Thanks to another wild storm system brewing all over the midwest, Tyler was out chasing again today. And although you’d checked in on him earlier in the day, you knew there was always the possibility that things changed. Storms shifted– gained power, sometimes his team (although rarely) got things wrong. A pang of guilt spread through your chest at the thought– what if something happened to him out there and he needed to reach you? 

You could turn back and get your phone, of course. But you were already so close to town. And all you needed was a bottle of shampoo and a birthday cake for Tyler. You could be in and out of Lawton in less than half an hour if you were quick– home before he even knew you’d left your phone behind again.

What could really go wrong?

…

“Talk to me, Dani– what do you see?” Tyler asked into the walkie. They’d been tracking a handful of storms for the past few hours– Tyler watching the clouds, and Dani studying the radar. Right now, there were two that had peaked his interest– One was formulating south, the other to the northeast. 

“The storm south has higher wind speeds, but I think it’ll fade if it shifts. The other one has a weaker wind shear, but higher pressure. Either one has the chance to form or go, so I say trust your gut,” they answered.  

Tyler shifted his grip on the steering wheel, studying the dark, circling motion in the distance. 

“What’re you thinkin’, T?” Boone asked, camera trained on Tyler. 

He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip– trying to focus.

“Less moisture, less potential for an updraft, but way higher winds if we go south. Northeast though… she’s already got the motion and momentum, she just needs the winds to shift...” 

Boone stayed quiet– he knew that when Tyler talked out loud, it was generally rhetorical. 

Tyler took his eyes off the sky to study the world around him for a moment. 

“No pressure, T,” Dani said through the walkie. 

“Yeah,” Lilly chimed in. “We just spent all damn day chasing these things–”

“South,” he said suddenly. “I say let’s chase south.”

…

Less than thirty minutes later, Tyler was standing in the middle of a wheat field with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. 

The storm had fizzled with the shifting winds, leaving them with nothing but a few scattered showers that mixed in with the sweat already pooling on his skin. 

“S’alright, T,” Boone said encouragingly with a shrug. He clapped him on the back. “We can’t catch ‘em all.”

Tyler sighed before joining Dani where they sat on the edge of the truck, scanning for other potential storms in the area. 

“What’s that there?” Tyler asked, pointing to what appeared to be a storm system heading west. 

Dani frowned. “What the hell… I think that’s the storm from earlier– the one moving northeast.”

“So it shifted?” 

“Shifted?” Boone said, lowering his camera for a moment to glance towards Tyler. “Where to? Can we make it in time?”

Tyler frowned, studying the movement. 

“That’s strange,” Dani mumbled under their breath. With a few clicks, they expanded the screen, showing a wider radius.

“What’s strange?” Boone asked.

Ignoring him, Tyler scanned the system, trying to trace the path without actually calculating it. “You don’t think–” 

Dani glanced his way. “Holy shit–”

“Hello?” Boone said. “Y’all gonna share with the rest of the class?” 

“I think she’s headin’ for Lawton,” Dani finally whispered. 

And although he’d been thinking it, all the color drained from his face when it was actually spoken out loud.

“Lawton?” Dexter asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Oh shit-” Lilly whispered.  

Lawton was the closest city to where the two of you lived– if it hit there, thousands of people could be in danger. And if it shifted again, even the slightest bit– it could head right for your small town instead.  

Despite the humidity, everything inside of Tyler went cold as he imagined you at home– puttering around the garden, blissfully unaware of what might be coming. 

“Will you uh, pass me– pass me my phone, Boone?” Tyler stammered, standing up from the truck bed. 

Boone reached into the backpack scattered near his feet and handed over Tyler’s cell phone, placing it in his outstretched hand. Tyler muttered a quick thank you before walking a few strides away as he pulled up your contact information.  

The call rang five times before making it to voicemail– your sweet voice asking him to leave a message and you’d get back to him. 

“Hey, baby– it’s me. Call me back as soon as you can. Alright, love ya.”

He clicked the phone off before immediately trying again. 

“C’mon,” he muttered as the line continued to ring. “C’mon, baby, c’mon,” he hummed nervously, kicking the grass with his boots when he heard your voicemail. “Hey– me again. Listen, I’m not trying to scare ya, but there might be a storm comin’ and I just wanna make sure you’re safe. Give me a call please.”

He paced back towards the group, sending you a quick text just for good measure as he did. 

“Alright, what’s the plan here?” Dexter asked. 

But Tyler wasn’t paying much attention as he obsessively dialed you for a third time. 

“What’s wrong, T?” Boone wondered. 

Without looking up from his phone, Tyler exhaled a frustrated breath. “She’s never got her damn phone on her– that’s what’s wrong.” The second he heard your voicemail for a fourth time, he chucked his phone towards his bag. “Damnit!” 

Boone swallowed thickly. “I’m sure she’s fine–”

Tyler hung his head. After a moment, he nodded, although he wasn’t entirely convinced that would remain the case if he didn’t get in touch with you fast. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to breathe– 

You were fine, he told himself. You were home, you’d hear the alerts if they were necessary, you knew to get into the basement. 

Tyler took a long, steadying breath. “Dani, what’s the speed of this thing?” 

“Uh, it’s moving– thirty-five miles per hour directly west. I think she’s gaining speed, though.”

“Alright, she’s fast,” Tyler remarked. “We have to be faster. Let’s head home, ladies and gents, we can take cover at my place once I know everyone’s safe.”

“You got it, T,” Lilly said. 

“Stay safe everyone,” Dani replied as they all dispersed to their respective vehicles. 

Tyler and Boone climbed back into the truck, tires screeching as they sped west towards Lawton, and home towards you. 

…

You were inside the bakery on Lowell Street– Tyler’s favorite place for any and all pastries, when you heard the thunder. 

Although thunder in Oklahoma wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, it was enough to make you turn your attention outside, just to see what kind of storm you might be up against on the drive home. 

“It’s gettin’ dark out there,” Gloria, the owner, said. She glanced at you over the counter and blew a strand of graying hair out of her face. 

You nodded in agreement, jumping slightly when another crack of thunder rang through the air. “Sounds like it’s getting closer,” you noticed. 

“I still can’t believe that boyfriend of yours goes out of his way to chase these storms. And his friends, too.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, me either. Bunch of adrenaline junkies.”

“Not me,” Gloria smirked. “We get enough chaos in this life, I don’t need to be chasin’ it.”

You returned her smile, recognizing that you might have more in common with the sixty-something year old baker in town than you did your own boyfriend. But you supposed that your differences were what drew you to Tyler. He was brave and thrilling and so alive. Although what he did scared the absolute shit out of you, there was nothing better than watching him exude excitement and just pure joy after he got home from a particularly powerful storm. 

“Was he and his crew trackin’ anything out here?” Gloria asked, using the tube of blue icing to write the birthday message you’d requested on top of Tyler’s cake. 

“Not here,” you replied. “He was south of OKC last I checked in.”

Which, you realized, had been far longer than you anticipated thanks to not having your phone. You mentally kicked yourself again for leaving it behind. If you’d brought it with you, you could have just given him a call now. Because unless he was smack dab in the middle of a goddamn tornado, he always answered your calls. Just a few reassurances from him could’ve calmed your fears about the storm brewing outside– told you that it was just a thunderstorm passing through. 

Not every thunderstorm means a tornado, he had said, you didn’t even know how many times by now. And each time allowed you to relax a little. Because unlike your boyfriend, you didn’t enjoy weather in quite the same way. In fact, after an EF4 had ripped through your home when you were just a child, you did your best to stay as far from tornadoes as Oklahoma allowed. 

“I’m sure it’s just thunder,” you began. 

But before you could finish your sentence, you heard the sudden pitter patter of hail beginning outside. Gloria lowered the icing tube while you took another step closer to the window to peer out. 

Dark, gloomy clouds swirled through the sky. 

That was when you heard the sirens. Loud and clear, they echoed through your ears in a terrifying, grim warning. 

…

As the storm tracked faster and faster the closer they got, Tyler’s first stop was your shared home just outside of Lawton. 

He didn’t even bother turning the truck off before he was hurling himself across the lawn, towards the front door. But before he even looked inside, his stomach dropped when he noticed your SUV wasn’t parked in its typical spot. 

Regardless, he practically ripped open the front door before running into the house, calling your name loudly into each room he searched, hoping that maybe you’d lent your car to your mom again– or magically parked it in the garage that was stuffed full of his gear. 

But it was no use– you weren’t there. 

He knew that for good as soon as he flung open the door to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, pillows arranged perfectly– and your phone sitting on the nightstand table, plugged in and clearly far away from you. 

“Damnit!” he yelled, kicking the door frame frustratedly. Chest rising and falling rapidly, Tyler pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think. Frustration and anger brewed inside of him, but he knew that underneath all of that was fear– for you and your safety. All he wanted was to have you in his sights again– although preferably wrapped up in his embrace, the only spot he could ensure you were safe... Where you belonged.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Tyler made his way across the room and picked your phone up from the nightstand. Your background– a picture of you and him taken during your trip to Texas last year, lit up the screen. Accompanying it were the slew of notifications you’d missed– the first was the severe weather alert, the next few were all the missed calls from him. But at the very bottom of your screen was a reminder notification– one that allowed him to finally exhale the breath he’d been holding since he burst into the house. 

Get Tyler a bday cake. 

Sliding your phone into his back pocket, he raced back down the stairs to find Boone standing on the front lawn. 

“She’s in town,” he said, rushing towards his truck. 

Boone followed close behind. “How do you know?”

“If nothing else,” Tyler said, climbing into his truck, “she follows her schedule.”

…

“Gloria, you gotta listen to me–” you pleaded, hurrying around the counter to grab her hand. “If the sirens are goin’ off, it means we don’t have much time. Does the bakery have a basement, or– or a shelter?”

Gloria’s watery eyes met yours. Your heart sank the moment she shook her head dreadfully. 

“Okay,” you said shakily, trying not to panic. What would Tyler do? You looked around the bakery– with its old walls and sagging roof, you knew it wasn’t safe to stay here. 

“Gloria, we gotta go,” you said urgently. “We gotta find somewhere safe to be.”

With that, you tugged her towards the exit. 

As soon as you were outside, you felt the fierce wind whip your face, along with a few staggering pieces of hail. There was debris– leaves and sticks flying around in every which way, making it hard to see past what was right in front of you. 

Although you were trying to be vigilant, you didn’t even see the scrap of metal fly by your face.  “Shit!” you exclaimed, feeling it graze your cheek. Ripped skin was quickly followed by the feeling of warm blood trickling across your skin. 

“Are you alright?” Gloria asked, grabbing your arm. 

You used your free hand to press against your cheek before nodding. “We gotta get out of here,” you said. 

But just as you turned to try and gauge your surroundings, hoping to come up with a shred of a plan, you froze at what was looming in the distance. 

Winds whipped rapidly, the sky boomed, and a dark, wide funnel had formed– it’s tip already touching down on the ground. And it was coming straight for you. 

“Gloria, we gotta go–” you cried. “Now!” 

…

Tyler drove as fast as he could– foot nearly pressed down on the ground. He drove like his life depended on it. Because yours did– 

The truth was– he’d never given much thought to losing you. He was generally too preoccupied with wondering what you’d do if you lost him. He was the one putting himself in danger all the time, he was the one forcing his way in the middle of these storms. 

He didn’t know what he’d do without you– except be a shell of who he was now. 

“Holy shit–” he heard Boone say from the passenger seat. 

Tyler refocused his attention ahead, his eyes widening the second he saw what Boone was fixated on. 

It was hard to miss the giant, fucking tornado barreling right for Lawton’s array of buildings. 

“We’re too late–” Tyler croaked. “We’re too fucking late–”

“She’s smart,” Boone assured Tyler. “She knows where to go and what to do.”

Tyler’s knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator and drove faster. 

…

In retrospect, the laundromat probably wasn’t the best place for you to be. But there were few windows and the back room was lined with secure piping, all which jetted deeply into the ground, creating a solid anchoring point. 

There were a few other people huddled in the same room, already low on the ground and clutching onto one another. 

“Hold on to that!” you cried, practically pushing Gloria towards the corner of the room. She wound her frail arms around the piping before crouching down. You were right beside her, arms locked tightly on the piping as you felt the building start to shake. 

The storm outside was deafening. Winds whistled and boomed. You were pretty sure the woman beside you was screaming– but you couldn’t hear her above the noise of everything else. You tried to be brave– the way you knew Tyler would be if he were here. 

Once, about three years ago, an EF3 hit his parent’s ranch while the two of you were staying there for a long weekend. You remembered the way he stayed so calm, so collected through it all. After ushering everyone into the storm shelter, he wrapped his strong arms around you, anchoring you to him. The ranch didn’t shake like this though… And even though you’d been scared that night, it paled in comparison to what you felt now. 

This building was weak– the structure was unsound. You had no idea how close the tornado actually was, but you knew this thing wasn’t going to stay put. It was just a matter of if the pipes went deep enough into the ground and if you could hold on to them. Because you didn’t have Tyler holding on for you this time. 

You hoped he was somewhere safe– maybe tracking the storm that was about to kill you from a reasonable distance. 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” you told Gloria, sweaty palms making your grip slip. “Just hold on–” 

The building began to shake harder– the very foundation rocking beneath you. Shortly after, pieces of the roof began tearing off, exposing the thunderous storm raging above. 

“I don’t–” Gloria cried. “I don’t think I can hold on!”

You tried loosening your own grip– hoping you could wrap your arms around her like Tyler had done for you before, or do something to help. But then you heard another ear splitting roar, and suddenly, the entire roof was being ripped off from the building. There was nothing you could do. You weren’t strong enough– 

“Hold on!” you screamed, tucking your head into your elbow and squeezing your eyes shut. “Just a little longer!” 

But as the words left your lips, even you didn’t believe them. 

…

By the time they finally reached town, the tornado had already moved on. 

Part of the reason why Tyler loved tornados so much was their power and speed. In his eyes– it was nothing short of an act of God to see what damage a simple funnel of wind could do in just a matter of minutes, sometimes seconds. 

Until he was faced with the inevitable tragedy of it all. 

Because it was one thing to see trees uprooted, or tractors rolled over. It was another to see an entire town had succumbed to a pile of debris– vehicles thrown this way and that– metal and siding and bricks scattered over every inch of the flat land– To know that people, his friends, his neighbors, you could be buried underneath piles of rubble– bodies broken and bleeding and hurt if they were lucky enough to be alive at all.

Tyler brought his truck to a screeching halt, not even hesitating before he was ripping off his seatbelt and hurling himself out of his seat. The second his boots hit the mud, he screamed your name as loud as he could. 

Eyes whipping around, he tried to process the scene before him. But it was hard to gauge where anything used to be– there was practically nothing left. 

“Tyler!” he heard someone scream in the distance. Head whipping to the side, he saw Lilly, waving her arms frantically. 

For a moment, Tyler let himself get his hopes up. He raced across the distance between them as fast as he could, despite all the obstacles in his way. But when he finally reached her, he was devastated to see that you weren’t there at all. Instead, Lilly was staring at a vehicle, flipped over and crunched like it’d been hit head-on by an 18-wheeler. 

And although it was damaged beyond repair, Tyler recognized it as yours immediately. 

He felt his chest tighten. “Christ–” he stammered, unable to fight back the tears burning behind his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair before hunching over, hoping the motion would allow him to finally catch his breath.

“Oh God,” he panted. “God, no– please, no–”

“She might not have been in it,” Lilly said quickly. 

But Tyler barely heard her. He was too fixated on the pounding in his ears–  

A wave of hopelessness washed over him, flooding his insides. He was too late– he couldn’t save you– he was too fucking late. 

“We’re gonna find her, T,” Boone’s voice was suddenly peaking through the fog. 

“Yeah, we won’t stop until we do,” Dani added. 

Tyler forced himself to take a few, steadying breaths. When he could, he straightened his back and glanced around. 

His whole team hadn’t given up on you. 

Neither could he. 

…

When you finally gained the courage to open your eyes, you were met by a fierce brightness. You coughed– lungs heaving as you struggled to breathe. 

“Gloria?” you tried to speak. “Are you okay?” 

You were met by an eerie silence– the calm after the storm. Blinking harshly a few times, you tried to gather up enough strength to sit up. But as soon as you did, you had a chance to look around… And boy, do you wish you hadn’t. 

There was nothing left– the entire town was gone… destroyed, buried in rubble and debris. 

“Gloria?” you called, groaning as you pushed the thick layer of roofing off from your legs. You grimaced once you saw the deep gash down the side of your thigh, oozing blood. 

Breath shuddering, you continued to scan the area– trying to wrack your brain for what the hell you were supposed to do next. The second you moved to turn your head, you winced, vision blurring. Slowly, you grazed along your forehead with your fingertips. When you pulled them away, you grimaced to see them coated in crimson liquid. 

You stared at it for far too long– unsure what else to do. You were hurt– probably worse than it felt, too if adrenaline had anything to say about it. You didn’t know if you could walk on your leg, or if you’d pass out the second you tried to stand up. 

You felt hopeless– completely and utterly alone. 

Until you faintly heard the sound of your name being called in the distance. 

It was enough to make you snap out of your trance, head whipping around to see Boone throwing aside a piece of siding. He called out a second time before turning and locking eyes with you from across the way. 

“Boone,” you said under your breath, like you couldn’t quite believe he was real. Because if Boone was here– calling out for you, that meant Tyler couldn’t be far behind. 

Boone yelled your name again before turning. “I found her!” he screamed, waving his arms. “Over here!” 

You fought back the guilt you felt for still not finding Gloria and moved to stand on shaky legs. 

“I’ll come back for you,” you promised her. 

Wobbly and weak, you limped towards him, trying your best not to fall in the cracks and crevices beneath the debris. You looked down, intending to watch your step, but instead you caught a glimpse of your leg and all the blood now coating your entire thigh and calf. Just the sight of it made you lose your balance. 

“Shit,” you gasped, as you landed harshly on the ground. You looked back up and saw Boone heading your way– only fifty yards or so from you. But then– right behind Boone, was a sight that made everything else melt away. 

“Tyler,” you exhaled, like it was a prayer tumbling from your lips. 

His long legs moved fast– practically running despite everything in his way. 

He’d make it to you– he’d get you. But if you got up and kept moving… he’d get there sooner. So, with whatever you had left inside of you, you pushed yourself up. Ignoring the pounding in your head and the throbbing in your leg, you limped forward. 

“Tyler,” you said again– not loud enough for anyone else to hear. It was like you just needed a reminder that really was right there. “Tyler–” this time, when his name tumbled from your lips, it came out as a sob– every emotion inside of you bubbling to the surface of your skin. Tears slipped down your cheeks, your vision blurred. 

He was so close now– you could hear the rubble shift as he stepped on it. 

He called your name… and God, if his voice wasn’t the sweetest sound you’d ever heard. 

“Tyler–” you cried again, throat choked from dust and tears. 

And then, just like that, his body was colliding with yours. Arms winding tightly around your shoulders, a familiar scent enveloping you, he cradled the back of your head with his hand, anchoring you to his chest. You wrapped your arms around his middle, face buried in his button down shirt. 

“Oh, God,” he whispered above you, lips grazing the side of your head. “I got you,” he said. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out– only a guttural, uncontrollable sob that made him hold you tighter. 

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he whispered into your hair. 

“Tyler–” was all you managed to choke out. 

His thumb trailed up and down your hair, matted with mud and your own blood. “I’m here. I’m right here. I got you.” 

He held you tight, steadying your shaky frame. It was like he was the one thing keeping you from completely falling apart. Which was why your body almost recoiled when he finally pulled away. You needed him wrapped around you like that forever. 

You tried to resist, to pull him back, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. All you could do was stand there weakly while his wild, concerned eyes scanned the length of you. 

“I’m fine–” you tried to say. 

But he shook his head instantly. “You’re not fine. You’re hurt, we gotta get you out of here. Get an ambulance!” he yelled to Boone, who was lingering nearby, looking like he didn’t quite know how to help. Boone nodded instantly before hurrying off. 

“Tyler–” 

“Okay, I see the leg– what else?” he asked. “What else hurts?”

“My head,” you whimpered. “And my ribs–” you admitted, although you hadn’t quite managed to look at those yet. “But Tyler–” 

Before you could finish, Tyler’s hand gripped the hem of your tank top, pulling it up slightly. You winced as the fabric brushed over your ribs. But when Tyler pressed a hand on the bare skin, you almost screamed out in pain. “Sorry,” he said gently. “I gotta look though, baby. I gotta check it.”

You nodded, fingers squeezing the fabric of his shirt as he did. The pain was excruciating– enough to make your already-dizzy head start to spin. 

“I think they’re broken– at least a couple. Can’t say for certain.”

“Tyler,” you tried to repeat, tears still streaming steadily down your face. 

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay,” he said once he saw the shift on your face. 

“It’s Gloria,” you finally spit out. “She’s out here somewhere, Tyler. We have to find her–”

Tyler’s gaze softened at your words. He pulled his eyes away from you long enough to quickly scan the scene. 

“Did you see her? Or know where she went?”

You shook your head, more tears spilling down your cheeks. “No–” you cried. “No, I don’t know where she went. Tyler, I have to find her–”

“Easy,” he soothed, winding an arm around your middle so that he could brace the majority of your weight. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. We gotta get you checked out.”

“I can’t leave her–” you protested. 

“Listen to me,” he said, voice gentle but stern. “You bleeding out on a pile of rubble isn’t going to help her, okay? Let me get you somewhere safe, Boone and Dexter can search for Gloria, alright?” 

After a moment, you nodded solemnly. “You promise?”

“I promise, baby. Now c’mon.”

Before you could protest, you felt Tyler’s arm swoop around the backs of your legs, while the other supported your back. In an instant, your feet are lifted off from the ground. You didn’t have the energy to do anything but lay your head against his chest. 

“There we go,” he soothed. “I got you.”

His thumb trailed along your back gently as he began navigating the pile of rubble around you. 

You felt safe nestled against him– and for the first time since you’d emerged from the rubble, you felt safe enough to allow your eyes to fall shut. 

“Hey, stay awake now, okay? We’re just a short walk to the ambulances– keep lookin’ at me.”

You tried– honestly you did. You opened them up, despite everything inside of you that screamed to close them. And then you fought like hell to keep them trained on Tyler– to study the lining of his jaw and the tan shade of his skin. But Tyler’s embrace was so warm, and his voice was just so soft. And you were so, so tired. There was nothing you could do when they fell shut again. 

Tyler pleaded for you, but unconsciousness got there first. 

… 

Even after the doctors assured him you’d be okay– that it was just exhaustion and blood loss from the trauma you’d endured keeping you out for so long, he couldn’t settle down. 

You looked so goddamn frail– so broken in that hospital bed. He couldn’t stand it. 

It was nearly ten at night before the rest of his team packed up to head back home, making him promise to call them as soon as you woke up. 

“We can stay if you want,” Lilly offered. There was no hint of sarcasm or malice in her tone. She was being genuine. Which was how Tyler knew he must have been an absolute mess. 

“That’s alright,” he croaked, speaking for the first time in nearly an hour. Even he could hear the pain in his voice. 

Boone clapped him on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Love you, man.”

“Call us if you need anything,” Dani said. 

Tyler nodded, promised he would. But the only thing he needed was for you to wake up. 

…

His watch read midnight when you finally stirred. 

Tyler was sitting in a chair, pulled all the way up to your bedside, and was clutching your hand with both of his. He had his forehead resting against the hospital bed, but the second he felt movement, he shot up quickly, all the exhaustion fading instantly. 

Your face contorted into a frown as you squeezed your eyes shut once, twice, three times before they fluttered open. 

Scooting forward in his chair, he studied you as you glanced around– clearly trying to take in your surroundings and place where you were. The second you started to shift– like you were sitting up in bed in a panic, he squeezed your hand. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” he said. “You’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”

Your head turned towards him, confusion and fear plastered all over your cut up, bruised face. Just the sight made his chest ache. 

“You’re safe.”

You fell back against the pillow and nodded slowly. 

“Tyler–” you began shakily, he could already hear the sob lodged in your throat. “I– I’m…”

“You’re okay, baby,” he assured you. 

“No– I’m- I’m so sorry–”

He froze, brow furrowing in confusion. “Hey, what’s this? Stop- you got nothing to be sorry for, baby.” 

“I didn’t have my phone. I didn’t hear the alert until it was too late. It was stupid– I just–” your face crumpled as you struggled to find words. “You always tell me not to forget it and I forgot it.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Don’t worry about that.”

“I just– I wanted to get you a birthday cake– I should have gotten it sooner, but I forgot– and…” your voice continued to crack and break with each breath you took. “I know you don’t love birthdays, but I love your birthday–” Tyler leaned forward in his seat, releasing your hand so that he could cup your cheek. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your face before his fingers traced your jawline delicately. 

“I think your cake got destroyed.”

He couldn’t help the soft smirk that spread across his face. “I’d say that’s probably a fair assumption.”

“I’m sorry–”

“Hey,” he soothed. “Fuck birthday cakes– I didn’t want one anyway. I was thinkin’ we could get a nice pie this year. What do ya think? Blueberry? Peach cobbler?”

“But Gloria made it–” 

Suddenly, your face fell and you were back to sitting up eagerly. “Oh my God, Tyler. Gloria– she–”

“She’s safe,” Tyler interjected quickly. “Thanks to you. Boone found her not far from where you wound up, clutching to some pipes. She had a few scratches, but that was it. She said the pipes were your idea.”

A rush of pride flowed through him as he beamed at you. His girl– getting people to safety in the middle of a tornado, despite how scared you must have been. 

Your watery eyes met his, lip quivering as you tried to speak. “Tyler– I didn’t think…” he could hear the tears in your throat before you even let them out. “I didn’t think we were going to make it. God, I don’t know how we made it.”

Your voice broke on the last word, a sob escaping your lips as you doubled over. Instantly, Tyler was out of his chair and sliding into the tiny, hospital bed beside you carefully avoiding your cracked ribs and stitched up thigh. 

Without even hesitating, you curled into his side, fingers grasping as his shirt like your life depended on it. 

“Shh,” he soothed, hand rubbing up and down your arm. “You did make it. You and Gloria both. You made it because you thought on your feet– I’m so proud of you,” he hummed, pressing his lips to the side of your head. 

He had no idea if you believed him or not– no idea if his words were sinking in at all. You clutched his shirt and cried against his chest– frame shaking with each breath you took. Tyler felt so helpless in that moment. All he could do was whisper reassuring comments and words of affirmation in your ear and hold you tightly against him. 

After a while, your breathing started to return to normal. Your grip on his shirt loosened as you let out a sigh. “You came to get me,” you said quietly, voice sounding so tired– like it was moments away from drifting off. 

Tyler pressed his lips to your hair, eyes squeezing shut. “I’ll always come to get you,” he promised. 

You nodded. “I know.” 

Tyler ran his hand up and down your arm a few more times soothingly. “The laundry mat was a good idea– especially with the pipes,” he murmured into your hair. 

With what little energy you had left, you pulled away from him to glance up. With a raised eyebrow, you asked. “Does that mean I can be a tornado wrangler now?” 

He smirked playfully. “That depends, do you want to be?”

You bit your lip, like you were really thinking about it. After a moment, you scrunched your nose up. “And face one of those things nearly everyday? Not a chance.”

Tyler smiled, pulling you gently against his chest– right where you belonged. “There’s my girl,” he said lovingly. 

[starmocha]

I've got this doubt that I can't shake off: if MC's pregnancy, for some reason, is a very tough and risky one (both might die or something), which one of the guys would have the saddest breakdown at some point (just ugly crying into MC's arms after months of keeping it together for her sake) and which would have the angriest (trashing entire offices, taking their anger out on their enemies or both)?

(I had intended to respond earlier, but man…that trailer…) Gosh, you guys know how to prod at that special part of my brain with these asks lately… 🥺 I may or may not have...started writing...little...snippets, really... 😔

Zayne would go into “doctor-mode.” He is going to utilize his medical knowledge and resources to give you the best care possible for both you and the baby, and while it seems you have nothing to worry about, you will feel the emotional-withdrawal from him as everything will feel so methodical and clinical and he forgets completely his role as a husband until you break down crying.

You had tried to keep your emotions in check these last few months, rationalizing that Zayne was never an expressive person, but his feelings and actions were always sincere. He was pacing across the bedroom reviewing with you about your recent prenatal checkup and what it meant for both you and this baby. It had been like this for several months now, and with your weak heart and the risk it posed for both you and the baby, Zayne had been extra attentive about your prenatal care.

As you sat on your bed, heavy with his child and close to your due date, listening to him rattle off different medical terms and speaking to you less as a wife but more as if you were his patient, you could feel your emotions peaking. You couldn’t remember the last time he was affectionate with you or actually asked how you were personally feeling throughout this whole pregnancy. He was by your side more, but you had never felt as lonesome as now, needing him back as your husband and not a doctor. You could feel the tears brimming, but it was getting harder each day to suppress your feelings.

Everything Zayne was saying sounded like muffled gibberish to you. You could barely focus on the present, barely acknowledging even the faint movements of the baby you were carrying, feeling more lost in your loneliness. You finally let your emotions and hormones collide and broke down crying in front of him, startling him immediately. Within seconds, he was on his knees before you, grasping your arms as he asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you hurting somewhere?”

It took you a minute to gather yourself before you felt calm enough to speak, finally revealing to him how you hated who he had become during this time. At first, Zayne looked shocked, not quite comprehending what you had just said to him, but the more he pondered your hurt words, the more he realized there was a lot of truth in what you had said.

He kissed your belly, surprising you. Then, he got up and sat down next to you on the bed, pulling you into his embrace as he kissed your forehead, his apologies immediate and sincere.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, holding you a little tighter, “I just…don’t want anything to happen to you. Either of you.”

You leaned into his embrace, and sighed softly, “I know…I’m not mad at you. I’m just…”

Zayne looked down, noticing how your words gradually stopped and you were withdrawing again. He lifted your chin, making you look at him as he coaxed you gently, “Just what?”

“I just miss you,” you said, voice breaking again and fresh tears brimmed your eyes. As he brushed your tears away, you cried harder, “And I’m scared…and I can’t stop thinking about all of the things that could go wrong…and then I realize stressing over this is also hurting the baby and…and…”

Zayne looked guilty as he realized that while he was too focused on your physical health, he had neglected your mental and emotional state, realizing how you had been suppressing your feelings for his sake.

He sat back against the headboard and pulled you back to rest against him. He apologized again for his neglect, and for the rest of that night, he listened and comforted you through your anxieties. There was that familiar warmth in his embrace that you missed, and the softness in his eyes returned as he listened to you earnestly. While your anxieties were still there, they seemed more manageable now that you realized the man by your side in this moment was not Doctor Zayne but your Zaynie, your beloved husband.

Rafayel is angry and emotional and will lash out and say things he doesn’t mean, such as he would rather lose the baby than you.

It had been like walking on eggshells these past few months. You had tried to keep your spirits up in spite of the situation, but eventually everything that had been quieted was going to surface, reaching an ugly peak.

You just had never expected him to say such words to you.

“You…don’t want…the baby?” You felt like you were choking as you uttered those words back to Rafayel.

He looked conflicted, his face twisted in pain and frustration. “I…I didn’t mean it,” he finally said, seeming to struggling with not just his words, but also his feelings.

You glared at him with tears in your eyes. “You said it! What could you have possibly meant to say if not that!”

“I don’t want to lose you!” he finally yelled back, frustrated that his words were being used against him by you of all people.

A strained silence filled the space, creating a rift between the two of you as you stared at one another in shock. In the distant, there was the cries of seagulls flying outside the studio, the sound of waves crashing on the shore a peculiar reminder that time was still moving forward even as you two stood frozen, locked in this seemingly unbreakable tension.

After several beats, Rafayel dropped to his knees, his head buried into his hands as he apologized, though it seemed more like he was apologizing for hurting you and not because of what he had said.

You walked closer to him, surprised when his arms wrapped around your waist, and his face pressed against your rounded stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He didn’t look up at you, but his words were heard clear: “I just can’t lose you again.”

You stared down at his head of hair, unsure of what you could say in this moment. He looked so broken and helpless, and while you understood his sentiments, it still did nothing to alleviate the hurt you felt at his earlier words. Shakily, you let your hand rest on the back of his head, as you said softly, “My fishie…I won’t leave you…”

You said that to comfort him, but even you had doubts about whether you could hold true to your words. It was so bright and sunny outside in Linkon today, so why did your future look so gray and uncertain? This was to be a joyous time in both of your lives, but even as you both felt the baby kicked and moved, that cloud of doubt remained.

Xavier is stunned and feels helpless.

It had been an awkward couple of weeks. Xavier was quieter than usual, but he still answered you whenever you spoke. You didn’t think he was upset at you, but you also couldn’t ignore the sudden distance between the two of you.

“Captain Jenna had put me on desk duty for the remainder of my pregnancy,” you told him over dinner one night.

He didn’t answer you, appearing distracted as he was grilling some beef slices on an electric griddle.

“Xavier?”

“Huh?” He looked up, surprised. “Oh, sorry, I had something on my mind. What did you say?”

“I…I said Captain Jenna is putting me on desk duty,” you repeated hesitantly.

“That’s good,” he answered and picked a slice of beef off the griddle to place in your bowl. “You should have some more meat for protein.”

“…thank you,” you said, noticing the way his eyes kept averting with yours. You placed your bowl on the table, upset now. “Xavier, did I do something wrong?”

He looked taken aback by the sudden question. He immediately shook his head. “Wrong? Why would you even think that?”

You frowned. “You’ve barely spoken with me lately,” you said, “It’s been nothing but ‘yeah,’ ‘okay,’ ‘alright’ from you lately.”

“I’m sorry,” he looked at you with remorse etched on his face. He sighed as he turned the griddle off before he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I…I just have something on my mind.”

“You keep saying that,” you retorted, mildly irked now, “What could be on your mind that is more important than being here with me?”

“You.”

Your irritation disappeared in that moment, his solemn gaze resting on you. Slowly, you found your voice, your words stuttering a little in confusion, “Wha…what do…you mean?”

“You and the baby,” he clarified. “Ever since the doctor said this was a high-risk pregnancy, I just…can’t stop thinking about…everything that could go wrong.”

“Xavier…”

“I don’t know how to make this easier for you,” he continued, suddenly unable to hide his anxiety any longer, “And even if we do everything right, what if things go wrong at the last minute? What if—no, just…no…”

You gasped when he suddenly came to you, his arms wrapped around you immediately in a tight embrace. He kissed the top of your head and apologized again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“Xavier…it will be alright,” you reassured him.

He was silent.

“We’ll both be alright,” you continued.

“Right…” he answered, but you noticed he still didn’t want to let you go. You also didn’t want him to part, so you both remained in this moment a while longer.

Sylus has all of the money and connections in the world. He is going to ensure that both you and the baby will be alright throughout the pregnancy until birth. On the surface, he seems calm and confident, but to keener eyes, such as yours, you will pick up on his anxiety through little tics or behavioral changes.

The moment you had told Sylus you were pregnant with his baby, he lavished you with even more luxuries than before. You received the best care possible, especially when it came to light that this pregnancy was not going to be easy for you and there was concern about the health of the baby. Sylus made sure the most qualified doctors were monitoring you and he had ordered the personal chefs to prepare only nutritional dishes for you and the baby.

He was adamant that you received only the best of the best, and to strangers, Sylus appeared to be so level-headed and grounded, not a trace of worry could be seen on his face.

You, however, noticed how he seemed to drum his fingers on hard surfaces more often. He would also pull out his coin to flip at the most peculiar time, and his visits to the boxing ring also seemed to have increased. There were so many odd tics that you couldn’t ignore, but you suspected you knew the reason why.

One evening, you slipped into bed earlier while Sylus was still sleeping. It would almost be time for him to wake up from his slumber, so you waited. When you noticed the fluttering of his eyes, you leaned in closer, smiling as your face was the first thing he saw once he awoken.

“Good morning,” you greeted him with a mischievous smile, leaning down to peck his lips.

“Mm…morning,” he answered back in amusement, still a little groggy and bleary-eyed. He yawned. “What did I do to deserve seeing such a sweet sight first thing after waking up?”

“I wanted to talk.”

His mirth disappeared in that instance upon hearing your stern tone. He shifted in bed, sitting up with his back to the headboard. “Is something the matter?”

“You tell me.”

Sylus shook his head in confusion. “Sweetie, you are going to have to elaborate more,” he responded with a frown. “What are we talking about?”

“Are you…worried?”

“Worry?”

You rested a hand over your belly, his gaze instantly following your movement. “About the pregnancy,” you clarified.

“Of course I worry,” he answered back in that same even tone.

“You…seemed so assured, but lately, I’ve noticed these little…tics,” you explained, elaborating to him more in details as he listened patiently. When you finished, Sylus gently pulled you closer to him, letting your body rest against his. His arm wrapped around you, his hand resting on your belly to rub gentle little circles.

“I will always worry about you,” he said, “but panicking over things will not achieve anything, so I just redirected my worries elsewhere. Is that a problem?”

You shook your head and looked up at him. “No, I was just…wondering if you wanted to talk about them with me.”

He laughed and bent down to peck your lips. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What if I want to?”

He smiled in amusement and kissed you again. “Then who am I to argue with my pregnant wife?”

“What would you do?”

“Do what?”

“If…I don’t ma—”

“You will be fine,” he immediately cut you off, his demeanor shifting entirely. “You will both be fine.”

“But—”

He lay back down in bed, pulling you closer to him in a tighter embrace. “Lull me to sleep,” he said instead.

“But isn’t it time for you to wake—” You clammed up when he shot you a pointed look. You could sense his unease, feeling his fingers digging into your flesh a little more. He was upset, deeply troubled, and you hated how he carried that burden alone on his shoulders.

“Alright,” you answered, snuggling into his embrace. You sang a song, a lullaby you had learned recently that you hoped to sing to your baby in a few months. As you sang, Sylus quietly hummed along, and it wasn’t long before you both fell asleep together, your worries left behind as you dreamed of the upcoming months when a new bundle of joy would arrive at Onychinus’ base.

Caleb is nervous, but he pours himself into taking care of you, because that is all he has ever known. He’s never liked seeing you ill or hurt, so he is going to do everything possible to make sure you receive the best care ever. He will do a lot of research and ask as many questions as he could to gain insight on what can be done to minimize the risk so both you and the baby will make through the pregnancy as safely as possible. He does not even want to consider the possibility of losing you.

You didn’t have any autonomy over yourself anymore. Whatever you wanted to do, Caleb did it for you first. Whatever you were craving, he would negate it half the time, citing it was better for you to eat a healthier alternative.

Even though you wanted to be mad at him, you knew he was doing this out of worry after the reveal that there were some concerns about this pregnancy. The moment that you had heard the word “risky,” everything afterwards suddenly sounded muffled as you were frozen in shock, a sudden anxiety creeping in as you stared down at your belly. Meanwhile, Caleb was already proactive, asking what needed to be done, what you both needed to be aware of, and so on and so forth. As if he could sense your worries, his hands immediately rested on your shoulders as he stood behind you while he continued to converse with the doctor.

He was your pillar and your protector. He always was, and he always will be.

Even if sometimes you found him to be overbearing.

You had missed many of his more indulgent dishes ever since he had put you on a clean-diet, and each time, you made a point of letting him know just how upset you were as you sulked when he finished setting the table with steamed fish and green veggies with bamboo shoots.

“It’s only temporary,” he reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you picked at the fish half-heartedly.

“Most women get to enjoy their cravings while pregnant,” you said sullenly, taking a small bite of the fish.

He nodded in agreement as he sat down opposite of you. “If this was a normal pregnancy, then of course you should be able to indulge on your cravings—”

You looked at him hopefully.

“But your cholesterol level is higher than normal, and we also need to be cautious about the risk of developing gestational diabetes—”

You sulked again. “You are killing my appetite again.”

Caleb laughed softly as he set his chopsticks down. He cocked his head to the side, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he leaned forward on the table. “What are you craving, pipsqueak?”

“What does it matter? You won’t let me have anything…” You bit into your bamboo shoot, not making eye contact with him.

“Pretend I will,” he answered in the same tone.

You shrugged. “…Pasta.”

“Pasta? Okay,” he answered thoughtfully, “What else?”

“Hmm…pizza…cheesecake…dumplings…”

Caleb covered his mouth to suppress his laughter as he watched you list each food longingly, practically lost in your own world and not even paying attention to him anymore. When it seemed you had finished listing, he questioned you again, “That’s all?”

You sighed and shook your head.

“What else is there? You’ve practically listed all of the food available on takeout menus,” he teased.

“…Braised chicken wings…”

Caleb looked surprised. “What?”

“Your braised chicken wings,” you clarified and looked up to meet his surprised gaze.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, “I’ll make some braised chicken wings tomorrow for dinner.”

You perked up. “R-really?” You eyed him suspiciously. “What about my clean diet?”

“In moderation would be fine,” he answered, smiling, “Besides, having the mother of my child miserable the whole time is also not good for the baby.”

You huffed at him, annoyed. “I’m miserable because of you.”

He blinked, not expecting you to suddenly be mad at him again. “I’m only—”

“I can’t enjoy the food I like, I’m tired all of the time, I can’t even see my feet anymore, my back hurts, my feet are swollen—how am I fat when I’m not even eating anything yummy?!”

“…are you having a mood swing?”

“Yes!” you cried out hysterically, nearly sobbing, “It’s your fault, too, I can’t control my hormones right now!”

Caleb laughed helplessly as he stood from his seat and crossed over to your side. Immediately, you wrapped your arms around his waist, your face buried against his stomach as you continued to cry and list your grievances with him.

“Alright, alright, it is my fault I gotten you pregnant,” he agreed. He peered down at the top of your head, smiling when you sniffled against his shirt while he rubbed the back of your head soothingly.

“…dummy…”

“Yes, yes, I’m a dummy,” he continued in a very pacifying tone.

“…A big dummy…”

“Mmhmm…”

“The biggest…”

“Right, right…”

You looked up, suspicious again when he continued to be very agreeable. You yelped in surprise when he immediately grabbed your face and leaned down to steal your lips with his. It took you a few seconds to register that he was kissing you before you gave in, feeling a warmth in your chest at his sudden display of affections.

“What else?” he asked softly when he pulled back a few centimeters, still close enough that his breath brushed against your trembling lips while his eyes locked with yours. You could feel his thumb brushing away the tears that were still on your cheeks.

“…you…”

“Me?”

“Uh huh…”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just you…”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Alright, pipsqueak,” he said, “You have me. I am all yours. Forever.”

You guided his hand down to your pregnant belly, smiling when that same look of surprise crossed his face again when he felt the baby kicked. Your smile widened as you answered him, “You’re ours.”

He knelt down on one knee, his large hand still resting over your belly as he smiled back before his eyes drifted down to your stomach. “Yeah,” he said, sighing almost as if in disbelief by this current life he was living, “Both of yours. Forever.”

[airybcby]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

( bllk boys when your secret relationship is leaked by paparazzi)

a/n — wrote this on a whim after listening to peace by taylor swift

content — some nsfw but not explicit, fem! reader, cursing , all characters are 18 or 18+, slight ooc maybe?, some characters are repeated

synopsis — what happens when your relationship is leaked?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' everyone thought you'd broken up '

listen, you knew dating a good soccer player in high school was a big deal, but you didn't realize how big of a deal it really was when he went pro.

this was the same boy ( now man) that you'd been dating since you were 14, so nothing really changed your views on him. if you could love him through his awkward phase, and he could love you through yours, there was no way you'd break up.

again, you didn't realize that your relationship was such a big deal. it wasn't that the two of you were a secret, it was more of a 'private not secret' situation.

so when the two of you woke up in your shared bed because of just how many notifications the both of you were getting, you knew something was up.

and low and behold, something was wrong. when you opened any social media the first thing you saw was a strangely amazing photo of you and your long-term boyfriend kissing. really, if it wasn't a paparazzi photo, it would be your lock screen.

"aren't we just the cutest?" he asked you, phone thrown back onto his bedside table as if he didn't have a care in the world. (and he really didn't, not in this case)

truly, the only thing that may make him angry in this whole situation is the fact that he got woken up far earlier than his usual routine by all the commotion.

but of course, as he was dozing back off, you were reading the comments, as any loyal significant other would.

soccerluvr45: omg is that is gf from high school? i thought they broke up

okay, yeah. he had a rather public instagram account in high school that his rabid fans had found that had pictures of the two of you, but you'd never broken up?

reading through the many comments, it was like everyone had collectively decided the two of you'd broken up.

"mhm...just ignore it. the pr lady will deal with it." he mumbled as he grabbed your phone from your hands, laying it beside his before wrapping his arms around you.

"go to bed, 's too early to deal with all this."

his fans were silly, if they could see you with this bed-head man right now, they'd see there was no way the two of you would ever break up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, yo hiori, NIJIRO NANASE, hyoma chigiri

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' pr nightmare '

anyone who knew your boyfriend knew he was...a little extreme.

and unfortunately for you, this also applied when your relationship became public because of a slight slip of focus from the two of you. it wasn't that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret, you'd already been together a year now, but you also weren't trying to out yourselves.

yet, one singular minute when the two of you slipped away to the bathroom together at a soccer banquet...well lets just say a paparazzi was scarily ready to snap someone, anyone's, photo.

so here you were, sitting in a terrifyingly big office with your boyfriend and almost his entire management team.

"do you know what this could do to your reputation?" his manager asked. "it's just two adults doing adult things, they should've been in that bathroom! that would've gotten them—"

"okay, sir..."the pr woman cut him off, ever too enthusiastic to be talking about your private lives.

"you just need to ignore all of this until it goes away, alright? no press interviews after games anymore," she sighed as if this was basic comprehension. (your boyfriend wasn't the smartest but he also didn't need to be treated like an idiot.) "and no posting on any social medias for the time being. do you understand?"

"yeah, yeah. no talking to the grown men after games. and..."he grimaced at the thought of his next condition. " c'mon is posting on my socials that bad? i don't post about us anyways."

"at. all." and the room felt as icy as the pr woman's stare.

"yeah, no, okay i got it. no social media."

after another thirty minutes of this, with them saying basically the same stuff to you (even though you had no real social media presence anyways), you guys finally left.

"no fucking posting? what if i have to talk about a game coming up?" "i'm sure she knows how to do her job, love." you soothed your boyfriend as you got in the car the company arranged to have you two taken up with.

"yeah, well whatever. give me your hand," and who were you to say no to your boyfriend?

he took your hand and placed it on his neck, a place where you could see a few bites and hickeys if you really looked hard enough.

before you could protest he took a picture, posting it on his VERY public account with the caption...

' i love my woman ;) '

before turning off his phone completely.

"let's see them try to get ahold of me now."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RYUSEI SHIDO, tabito karasu, EITA OTOYA, oliver aiku

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' what picture ? '

how do two chronically offline people realize their relationship is now under scrutiny by the entire world?

the simple answer is...they don't!

you've never been interested in social media the way other girls your age had been. really, you'd rather just watch a video essay on every little topic that interests you than sit and watch six second videos then scroll all day.

to say the least, fast and forever changing social media just wasn't your thing.

and your boyfriend? he hardly even used his phone. unless it was for business or you, the thing was practically shoved away somewhere he couldn't care less about.

he would rather be reading or spending time with you out on a date...which is exactly the predicament the paparazzi put you in earlier this week.

the two of you were photographed having a little picnic and reading date at a small park that was pretty far out of town, assuming no one there knew, or even cared, enough to take a picture, but alas, someone did.

you and he had spent the rest of your week in pure, relaxed bliss. he had a game on saturday, so besides him going to practice and working out, the two of you stayed inside almost all week to prepare for the rather hectic weekend.

to say the game was a nail biter would be the understatement of the century. after two additional times, it was your boyfriend who scored the winning goal.

of course, you cheered the loudest, not noticing plenty of fans eyes on you unlike how many used to just chalk you up as an ecstatic fan.

as the post game interview came for him, you decided to stay closer to the door just incase it ran short. sometimes it was a one and done for him and others the questions went on for at least fifteen minutes, it just depended on his mood.

of course, the first question was about his game winning goal, but the second one threw him and you for a loop.

" what do you have to say about the photos of you and your reported girlfriend that have come out this past week? "

"...huh? what photos?"

eventually, the two of you did see the pictures, and all you could do was laugh because...how had you two not found out about this?

and you also made the picture your phone lock screen, but he didn't have to know that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RIN ITOSHI, reo mikage, SAE ITOSHI, chigiri hyoma

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

i wrote this in about an hour, and i think it shows but i had to get it out of my brain :))

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[amazinglyashy]

Hi! I was wondering if I could request a prompt where the reader is out at night with the LIs, wearing a pretty outfit, a man just approaches her and rudely asks “how much for a bj?” How would they react/protect her from such a creep?

(Sorry, for my English, I hope it made sense haha🤞🏼)

Very Minor N/SFW Warning!! This one really made me laugh because this has happened to me before, and the situation mostly pans out with my own partner having to yank me away to avoid having to post bail on me later in the evening. Remember to leash your dogs kids! Thank you for the request!! <3

LaDS men when you get catcalled/propositioned on the street

Xavier -

He's apologizing profusely to you because the ensuing bloodspray from how hard he punched the guy in the nose got on your dress and he genuinely feels awful about it.

There is not much to it, besides he acted embarrassingly quickly, to the point you wonder to yourself if he's just been silently waiting for this moment to come.

He's used to going out with you for drinks or evening dates- it's one of the more common ways for the two of you to hang out aside from spending the evening in one of your apartments with the other. Juggling work and clocking out with social activities would also mean walking late at night, to go to a movie or even on a snack run.

So needless to say, he has in fact, been mentally preparing himself for something like this to happen.

He can't help it.

He doesn't ever want to see you disrespected- he doesn't care the context. Work, family, friends-

And now, what, a stranger asking you for sexual favors?

You wait calmly with him while he speaks to the officers about what happened, trying to contain your giggles at how sheepishly he looks at the ground, his face still painted with the most adorable anger.

Zayne -

Quickly, he's pushed you behind himself and holding eye contact with the guy. It doesn't matter if he's drunk, or perfectly sober, Zayne won't excuse someone saying such a ridiculous thing to you.

He has his usual air of politeness and manners, but the bite in his voice is more than apparent, even to someone who doesn't know him. Dressed as nicely as he is with the air he carries around him, it's a weird experience for those who don't know how protective Zayne can get.

He will tell the man to give you an apology and back off, or there will be consequences.

You know what those consequences are, and despite feeling smug about how protective Zayne is, you're trying to grab his arm and stop him, to no avail.

If the creep tries to reach for you, Zayne will back up into you to force you back gently, and the man will quickly realize that he can't reach forward anymore-

Even as Zayne walks away with you, the ice is still creeping up the man's body. Slow enough, but still moving.

Hopefully an OTTO calls for help in time. Hypothermia at night would suck.

Rafayel -

He's immediately between you and the guy, hand long since dropped your own as he crosses his arms and stares the guy down.

If you hadn't known him so long, you would expect him to fire off a tirade of insults and comments at the guy- but you know Rafayel. You know him well.

He tells the guy to back off, in the most simple of terms as he glare is enough to set the man alight- and Rafayel's evol does just that when the guy doesn't seem to back down- lighting up the shoulders of his clothing and causing him to flay around screaming, as Rafayel pulls you to keep walking.

The amount of tasteful compliments on your attire rise, and you know he's doing it to keep you from internalizing the earlier interaction and stop dressing how you want.

He doesn't need some random freak to keep you from expressing yourself how you want to. Of course, he'll always find you attractive, and the little outfit you're wearing is doing numbers to him, but that's not his focus here at all.

He wants you to feel comfortable, confident-

And he'll do everything in his power to make sure you always do.

Sylus -

I am not entirely sure the man who's asking you has finished his sentence before he's slammed once against a nearby building and then released.

Sylus makes no motion to indicate that it was his doing, continuing to walk along with you to wherever the two of you had been going in the first place-

But you knew.

You had seen his stupid red mist envelope him.

For a second, you'd been scared that he was going to kill the guy- and while you knew someone who was comfortable saying such a thing to someone needed to be put in their place, 'murder' was not at all the same as 'putting someone in their place'.

No, he was just slightly- sort of- broken.

Just a bit.

Sylus won't react much, he may give a passing comment about the man, but otherwise, he's back to complimenting you or conversing with you about whatever subject you two had been discussing prior to the creep showing up.

"Sorry, sweetie. I know you don't like bugs. I tried to handle it as... efficiently, as possible."

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (6)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: life comes at ya fast…updates will come as I have more inspo and time to write. :) this is unedited

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: cunnilingus, slight coercion (but is it really if she wants it?).

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

***

Midweek comes around slower than you’d like and it feels as though your days are dragging on the more you try to tie up loose ends and review resumes of potential candidates. 

Sunghoon has agreed to transfer some of the responsibilities onto the secretaries for the time being. They’ll be responsible for attending meetings in-office and other tasks that can be taken off of your plate as you focus on what’s at hand. 

“Are you any closer to finding me a new assistant?”

He asks this at least once every few hours. He’ll do it when he hears you typing away on your keyboard or when you’ve neglected to hear him call you from the door. Sunghoon says it with a smile that looks too playful for your liking. 

“Not any closer than I was since the last time you asked me.” 

“Shame. But perfection takes time, doesn't it?”

You roll your eyes. “Come in and close the door, will you? It’s hot as shit outside and you’re letting all of my cold air out.” 

“Maintenance is working on fixing the air conditioning in the main areas. My office isn’t as cold as yours, I’ll say that.”

“Maintenance likes me better.”

“Nuh uh.” 

You look up from your monitor. “What are you, a child?”

“Maybe.” You roll your eyes again and focus back on your work. “Any candidates I should know about?”

“Are you asking me because you’re interested or because you’re bored?”

“Is there any difference?”

“Yes. You either care about who’s going to take over my position once I’m gone, or you enjoy watching me suffer by being in my presence.” 

“The latter, actually. You’re cute when you’re angry at me.” You scowl at him. “See? Cute.” 

“I’m not cute.”

“You say that, and yet you are.” 

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re really cute, especially with my hand between your legs.” Your face grows hot and Sunghoon grins when he realizes he’s rendered you speechless. 

“If you aren’t going to be of any help, might as well go back to your office and do your job.” 

Sunghoon puts both hands up. “Alright, alright. I did come here with the intention of an update, though. Heeseung mentioned you’ve made some progress when I saw him earlier this morning.” 

“Some. I’ve been getting hundreds and hundreds of applications, and it’s getting hard to sift through all of them.”

“What kind of things are you looking for?” 

“Experience, mostly. Someone who meets half of these qualifications and won’t be an ass about it.”

“Got any contenders?” 

“I haven’t met with anyone yet, so I can’t be so sure right now. I’m in correspondence with some to meet at the office next week for an initial interview before I decide.”

“How many interviews?”

“Three. One introduction, a second so they can see the office, and a third with you.”

“With me?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, you. I need you to like your assistant.” 

“The way I like you?”

You near your throat. 

“I surely hope not.” 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I just need an assistant who can handle the job and not complain about it too much.” 

“That’s the goal.”

“Who are you meeting with next week?” 

“Cho Miyeon’s coming on Monday morning and Kang Taehyun will be coming the same afternoon.”

“Yang Jungwon on Tuesday too, huh?” Sunghoon peers over your shoulder and stares at your calendar. “You’ve got a busy week.”

“I’m doing my best. My workload is being shared while I look for my replacement, so it’s not too bad. Don’t get any ideas and add things on my docket, though.”

“Well…”

You sigh. “Sunghoon, please. I’m trying to be diligent and do right by you, but you’re making me want to quit on the spot.” 

“Hear me out at least, okay?” 

Sunghoon sits on the edge of your desk and sees the top button of your blouse unbuttoned. It’s not enough for him to see your bra underneath, but his mouth runs dry thinking about it. 

“It’s our turn to choose a restaurant for the next quarterly dinner party. As you know, it’s important because we as a company build internal connections and reward those who work under us with an all expenses paid meal.”

“Plus quarterly bonuses from the respective employers.”

He nods. “Yes, plus the bonuses. Anyway, I’ve booked a reservation at a highly rated Spanish place that serves tapas style for tonight. Cool, huh?” 

“You cannot seriously expect me to drop my plans to work.” 

“You don’t have plans.”

“Okay, fair point. But Pochi, Sunghoon. And I don’t want to work!”

“We won’t be out until late into the evening, if you’re worried about feeding her. We’ll leave the office early and I’ll have you home before nine. And you won’t be working. Not really.” 

“Asking me to try food for a work event is considered work.”

“Just come with me, okay? If you like it, we’ll host the party there. If not, we try another one on the list.”

“What list?”

Sunghoon merely smiles but he doesn’t explain further. “Don’t worry about it. Get yourself hungry and we’ll leave at five.”

“You, leaving work at five…”

“Early, I know.” Sunghoon laughs. “So what do you say?”

“I say you want me to ignore all of my tasks and distract me with food. Why can’t you go with another assistant who actually gives a shit about this party?”

“Because I care about your opinion, not theirs.” 

“I don’t have time to entertain this when it’s not on my immediate priority list. You can bring Jongseong to dinner, for all I care. He’ll appreciate that more than me.” 

Before you know it, he’s on the floor and turning your chair to face him. 

“Sunghoon!” 

He situates himself between your legs and spreads them apart by pushing your knees away. His fingertips gently touch your skin and inch up the skirt you’re wearing, pushing the fabric up your thigh. Your resolve seems to crumble when you see him like this and look around hastily. 

“W-What are you doing?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t speak. He looks at you and smiles like he knows something you don’t.

“My window is open,” you say in a haste, trying to push his hands away from your legs. 

Sunghoon merely laughs and leans down to press a kiss to the inside of your knee while maintaining eye contact. You sit frozen in your chair as you watch him stand, eyes trained on his semi-hard cock outlined in his trousers. He makes no fuss and faces the windows to close the blinds before turning back to look at you.

“Better?” 

All you can do is nod. Sunghoon drinks you in with his eyes. His gaze starts at the bottom of your heels until you feel his stare drag up your body, locked in on the flesh of your collarbones until his eyes meet yours. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when he’s looking at you like that, never mind the fact that the outline of his dick is practically at eye level. 

He brings his hand to his mouth and rubs his jaw, huffing something you can’t quite make out. He then resumes his positions on his knees and this time, you don’t complain when Sunghoon pries your legs apart. 

“Can I try to convince you?” he asks in a sultry tone. His voice might as well be made of soft velvet and you find yourself nodding. “Yeah? Can I have my way with you right here?” 

Sunghoon has his answer when you widen your legs before him and parts his mouth like he’s in awe. He observed the way your skirt rides up your thighs even more, then shifts his gaze to your covered cunt. Sunghoon looks like he might as well be high; his gaze is hyper focused between your legs and his well you panties mold to the shape of your cunt. 

His bottom lip becomes wet with his saliva and you’re almost positive that Sunghoon would start drooling the longer he looks at you. His hands delicately hold your ankles in place when you brush your thumb against the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re drooling.” Sunghoon looks up at you.

“I can’t help it,” he says, kissing the pad of your thumb. “You’re so perfect down here.” 

Your cheeks flush for the umpteenth time. Sunghoon’s hands move from your ankles to gently caress the outer skin of your calves before he brings one hand to push your skirt until it sits just below your waist. You lift your hips to help him and settle back down in your chair at a steep slouch. 

Sunghoon holds you there and you feel as if you’re being presented on a platter. Still unused to being like this in front of him, you resist the urge to close your legs to prevent yourself from being even more flushed than you already are. He pushes his face between your legs and gives one, long kiss to your covered slit. 

“So perfect.” Sunghoon mumbles against you, and you suck in a quick breath. He sticks his tongue out to taste the wet slick soaking from the fabric. “That’s really good.” 

Never in a million years would you have ever guessed how good Sunghoon looks on his knees. He’s brash and confident, proud and stoic. The ease in which Sunghoon fell to his knees knowing he’d see what you hide between your legs makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Sunghoon, who stands down for no one, kneels on his knees for you. 

He pulls your body down and brings his tongue all over your covered cunt. The surface of his tongue makes you clench against him and buck your hips. Sunghoon chases after it, pushing against you harder than merely grazing like he was previously. He licks a confident stripe and laps at your panties like a kitten drinking milk. 

His ginormous hands and caresses your outer thigh like he’s trying to make you relaxed and unashamed of the pleasure he wants to give you. You’re reminiscent of how you felt the morning Sunghoon’s hands were on you for the first time—nervous, excited, and extremely horny. 

When Sunghoon pulls your panties to the side to reveal your lap to him, he groans and his warm breath makes a shove run down your spine. He admires the way your pussy clenches in front of him and kisses your naked slit like he’s trying to reassure you.

“Relax, love. It’s just me.”

“Kind of hard to relax.” 

“Why?” Sunghoon kisses your slit once more and you sigh in contentment.

“I’m not used to people looking at me like this.” 

He looks up. “Get used to me between your legs.” 

When you deal with Sunghoon’s demands during working hours, you’re a force to be reckoned with. He’s stubborn and loves to fight back until you frustratingly give up or until you’ve backed him into a corner. You’re used to his hotheaded tendencies and never back down if you can help it.

But Sunghoon’s hands keep you locked before him so gently that it makes you think you’ve got nothing to worry about. His fingers caress your skin in a way that makes you tingle with excitement and lust, and it’s been a while since you’ve felt this way about anyone. 

He can feel your body respond to him when you loosen the tightness in your hips and let your legs fall beside him. Sunghoon’s mouth kisses your outer lips and avoids your clit, but the feeling is all the same when you haven’t been in this position in years. He takes his time, moving his plush and moistened lips across your skin like he’s mapping out every inch of you.

Sunghoon’s head moves to your inner thigh and his hair brushes your skin. His eyes remained closed as if to savor the taste of your body. You can’t seem to look at anything but him like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you close your eyes and allow yourself to lose yourself in his touch.

Feeling so exposed is out of your comfort zone. You feel completely naked in front of him despite wearing a blouse and a skirt, technically. The sheer act of intimacy, even if Sunghoon walks away from you forever after he’s done kissing you between your legs, still feels like more than a mere hookup like your previous experiences. 

Sunghoon is still fully dressed and you wonder if he’s as hard as he was before kneeling. Your mind races when he switches legs and kisses all the way to the inner portion of your knee, dabbing gentle pecks that makes your heart race much faster than you would’ve ever anticipated. 

He must know by now you’re as inexperienced as a woman your age could be. It’s never for the lack of trying; men leave you disappointed and the pool of new lovers falls short when you aren’t the type of person to lose yourself in strangers who will never love you back. Sunghoon touches you like he’s more than somebody you’ve worked with for the last six years. It scares and excites you all at once. 

His breath ghosts over your cunt before he sticks his tongue out to lick a fat stripe. It feels like the entire surface of his tongue covers the entirety without a single inch being undiscovered by his mouth, and the sensation makes your toes curl in your heels. It’s enough to make your back arch slightly. Sunghoon watches you and puts both of his hands at the side of your hips to keep you steady before him. 

Sunghoon takes his time and doesn’t rush it like you think he will. He sounded so desperate to get you to agree to come with him to dinner tonight. You were sure he’d get on both hands and knees like a dog to beckon you to come. The sense of urgency seems to have been tossed out the window when he closed the blinds. Despite being in your office and hearing faint sounds of the copy printed from outside the doors, you feel like it’s just the two of you existing in the same space. 

His tongue moves up and down your slit slowly. Sunghoon’s eyelashes are long and dark, fluttering against his cheek with every pass. You wonder if this is what he looks like when you’re kissing him. It’s unfair how sexy he looks when his tongue is coated in your slick and when he’s sighing against your pussy like this is a meal that has finally satisfied his craving. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs against you the second he pushes his tongue past your folds. The vibrations continue to add to your pleasure and you buck your hips against his face. 

“S-Stop talking.”

He chuckles. “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

You shake your head stubbornly. Sunghoon hums like he doesn’t believe you. His fingers dig into your hips to pull you closer to his face instantly, latching onto your cunt with the urgency you anticipated beforehand. He shoves his tongue deep inside of you to the point where you grip the handles of your chair until your knuckles feel sore. Your palms have grown sweaty and you fear you’re losing your grip on both the chair and your sanity. 

He looks up at you before taking one hand and putting it in his hair. It’s like a foreign instinct takes over. Your hand grips his hair until you’re holding his head in place. His eyes flicker back to yours before focusing on lapping up your wetness, no doubt coating the lower half of his face in it. 

There’s no real method he’s adhering to. It’s messy and growing louder by the second with his saliva mixing in with your juices. Sunghoon slurps you up like he’s trying to taste all of you at once and flexes his jaw to accommodate shoving his tongue inside of your folds and thrusting. 

Your legs eventually wrap around his shoulders and Sunghoon can feel your heel digging into his suit jacket. He doesn’t mind. You’re sure this encourages him to fuck you like this harder because his tongue moves in circles inside of you when your thighs keep his head locked in place. His dark brown eyes open to look right at you and the moans you’ve been holding in escape. 

Sunghoon moans against you too. Your whimpers and short breath sent the blood straight to his cock, but he knows this isn’t the time nor the place to make you moan the way he wants you to. He’ll take what he can get, but that single, deep moan that came from his tongue bouncing over your clit makes him think it would be worth it for everybody to hear you come.

He looks so good with your thighs suffocating his face. Sunghoon doesn’t complain, he just puts his hands on your thighs and squeezes you to keep them there. Your hips start to chase his mouth when you feel your orgasm building and when Sunghoon sees your chest heaving off of the chair, he keeps his steady position and flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. 

You don’t even realize your hips are rolling against his mouth until you come against Sunghoon’s tongue. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe as he laps it up, opening his mouth as best as he can with your legs still wrapped around his face. He moans when he tastes all you have to offer and bucks his hips to grind against the tightness of his slacks when he sees your eyes wired shut and mouth gaping. 

The grip on his hair loosens when your body relaxes and so does the grip on your legs. Your breath feels much heavier than before and when you open your eyes, Sunghoon’s looking at you with a drunken smile on his face. Your cheeks instantly heat up and you try to pry your legs back down, but he keeps you steady there and moves his head to kiss you on each thigh.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

“S-Sunghoon…”

“Yeah, love?” 

You blush harder. “You’re just…” 

“I’m just what?” 

You avoid eye contact. “You looked really hot.” 

He laughs and you feel his eyes still staring at you. Sunghoon lets go of your legs and helps settle them back down on the ground before pushing your panties back in its proper place. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and sits on the back of his knees to help you regain balance and sit upright in your chair as you fix your skirt in an attempt to look decent. 

“You did so well for me,” he says, pushing upwards to kiss you. Your taste lingers on his lips. Sunghoon braces himself on your thighs and his palms feel comforting. 

“I-I can’t believe I let you do that in my office.”

“Such a rebel, hm?” Sunghoon chuckles between kisses before pulling back to look at you. “Did that convince you to come with me tonight?” 

You nod shyly. “I don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who can be bribed by sex, though.”

“I don’t think that of you. Matter of fact, I know I had you reeled in when I told you I’d take care of the details.” 

“Hmph.”

“I ate you out because I wanted to.”

Sunghoon kisses you again before standing up. The sheer size of it makes your mouth water and you see the small, wet stain left by his precum. He watches you with fascination and watches your hand reach out with hesitation, pulling back before you’ll do something you might regret. 

He doesn’t force you to touch him, nor does he ask you to do anything in return. You watch him with hooded eyes and the sight of you looking up at him while he stands will fuel his dreams for days to come. 

“You’re hard.” 

“That I am.”

“All that from eating me out?”

He laughs. “You underestimate how much I’m attracted to you.”

Your eyes flicker up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So much that I ate your cute little pussy in your office.” 

You swat the side of his thigh and look away from him. “I…My pussy isn’t cute.”

“So cute and so tight. Felt it with my fingers and I felt it again with my tongue. Can’t help but wonder what it’ll feel like with my dick.” 

“Sunghoon!” 

“Too soon?” The blush on your face gives your desire away, but he laughs and backs off. 

“I have a pair of fresh slacks in my office. Let’s finish the rest of today and then we’ll head over for dinner, yeah?”

You raise your eyebrow. “You’re gonna walk out of my office while you’re hard?” 

“It’s like, two inches from yours.” 

“People could see.”

“Aw, are you worried about me?”

You huff. “Let people see how hard you get for me, for all I care.” 

Sunghoon smirks. “Atta girl. I think I just might.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like me to be.”

You don’t argue with him. You both know he’s right. He eventually makes his way to the front door and is about to leave before he comes back around your desk. Sunghoon takes you by surprise and leans down to kiss your lips once more before wordlessly exiting your office.

It takes a great deal of strength to stand up and open the blinds.

***

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please adjust your settings if I couldn’t tag you!

[xaviever]

˖ 𑣲 nerd!xavier thought dump …

cw. (afab!reader) 🔞 mdni. nerd!xavier + virgin!xavier (implied). he’s shy but he’s not a sub. hickeys, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, possessiveness obvi it’s xav. use of “pretty girl”.

nerd!xavier who’s just such a cutie pie. introverted and faintly aloof, countless honors awards under his belt (and hopefully you next). tousled hair, his thin glasses above his nose accentuating his gorgeous face, deep, blue eyes as alluring as his intelligence. eager to learn, always on time to lectures, bright-eyed, and bushy tailed.

nerd!xavier who has always thought you were breathtaking. watching you saunter into class the first day is majority of the reason he’s still taking the uninteresting gen ed class you two have together. he often finds himself staring at your side profile, looking away quick with his ears turning red the few times you’ve returned his gaze with a smile and wave.

nerd!xavier who just has to know you. he’s typing out everything but a literal transcription of your professor’s lecture the one day he notices you’re absent, earnestly handing you neat copies next time he sees you.

nerd!xavier who wants you so bad. his once extremely school oriented brain now frenzied over his almost elementary crush on you. he’s stuttering through your conversations, daydreaming sickeningly romantic thoughts of you, scheduling his days down to the minute just for the sweet possibility of spotting you on campus. he’s whipped.

nerd!xavier who sometimes has more… unsavory thoughts about you. still stemming from his pure adoration, he’s overwhelmed by his want, no, need for you and ends up here.

when he can no longer focus on his studying, his mind falling back to the way you rubbed his arm earlier, or giggled at his joke last week, or said his name— he’s tugging at his cock before he even realizes. pants and huffs of your name spill from his pretty pink lips as he fucks his fist to the image of you. he’s hunched over his desk, notebooks crinkling under his free hand’s grip. he’s not a pervert, really! he doesn’t even touch himself often, you’re making him go completely haywire.

nerd!xavier with such a sensitive cock. you’re palming him through his jeans, certain you found his tip when you feel a wetness start to seep through onto your thumb. you’re kissing, him moaning into your mouth before he pulls away and burrows his face in your neck, breathing you in slow to try and calm himself.

“i’ve never…f-felt this way.. mmph! before...” he confesses into your shoulder, his big hand wrapping around yours that was teasing him to halt it. xavier brings his head up, glasses crooked, pupils blown, cheeks flushed. just absolutely wrecked for you. he hisses as you squeeze him through his jeans once more with a sweet smile.

“you want me to touch you, xavier?” it’s dizzying how those words hit him, his name from your lips akin to something religious. he could cum in his pants.

“i do. please.”

nerd!xavier who is very committed to learning how to fuck you right. when he’s face to face with your pussy, looking up at you with so much anticipation, his pretty blues half lidded and misty. he kisses the inside of your palm when you cup his chubby cheek, his hand shaking only a little when he holds your intertwined ones at your side, diving down to attach his lips to your aching clit.

his shy kitten licks quickly drive you insane, and then you’re saying his name again, moaning it, xavier, fuck! xavier, more please! he counts on his lucky stars as he realizes the surge of possessiveness he feels. other people? are supposed to experience this with you? that’s when he channels all the enthusiasm of his first time into his tongue, noting every movement, every single thing that gets a reaction from you. vowing he’ll make you cum so hard you’ll forget other people even exist.

nerd!xavier who’s leaving splotch after splotch of purple, red on your inner thighs. you’re squirming, yelping with each suck, and while he doesn’t necessarily want to hurt you he just can’t help himself. sitting back and admiring his canvas of hickeys, pride overwhelms him, satisfied with his mark on you. at least now, whoever’s next will know. (it’s all for him, he will sooner flunk out then let anyone else be between these legs for the rest of the semester).

nerd!xavier who’s so good with his fingers. he’s slow to push inside you, watching your face for all the minuscule tells you have. you’re so tight he lets out a groan, the thought of pushing his dick inside you next making his big brain fuzzy. xavier curls and stretches and pumps, curious of the other sounds and reactions he can pull from you.

“you’re such a pretty girl…” xavier mutters, shallow breaths fanning your face as he leans into you. “i’m so lucky.”

you beam at the praise, finding his lips again in a kiss with a ferocity you never would’ve initially expected from the quiet boy. the squelches of your needy cunt intensify as you close in on your peak, gasping into his mouth as it washes over you suddenly. he thinks that’s a good thing, right? all he knows is your expression is priceless, and he’s so hard it actually hurts. just as you’re about to dreamily sigh out how good that was, xavier’s blurting out the only way he can think to see you again so soon.

“…do you need help studying for that exam next week?”

— authors note. me when i try to do simple headcanon style but i love xavier so much i fell too far down the rabbit hole. xavier girls pls rally with me :3

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[renskaji]

shameless focus

hajime umemiya x reader, wc: 1.6k, req? yes! find it here!

It’s no secret that the head of Bofurin was strong. 

He has to be, if he’s going to lead a whole high school of delinquents. Fights and turf wars are just as common as heavy physical labor for the townspeople. And he fills his role with a dedication rarely seen in someone as young as he is. 

Hajime Umemiya loves his team. 

He loves his garden almost as much. 

When you’d arrived at Furin high nearly an hour earlier, Hiragi had been relieved to see you. And not just because he’s one of your closest friends, but your arrival meant that he was free to escape Umemiya’s endless rambling about his plants. 

You didn’t mind taking Hiragi’s place as Umemiya’s rooftop company, having brought your schoolwork to do on the covered picnic table nearby. It’s almost a ritual the two of you had fallen easily into, though you’re trying not to think about how easy it is to just exist with Umemiya. 

“Ever thought about growing flowers?” You ask, calling out to your plant-obsessed friend between his explanations about why he chose each specific vegetable that he has situated in the pots. You’re focused on your schoolwork, but you’ve always been willing to split your attention when Umemiya is involved. 

“Hm, can’t say I have.” He calls back after a moment of contemplation. “I like growing food that I can share with my friends. But if you tell me what kind of flowers you prefer, I’ll try and grow them for you!” 

He’s so genuine, you can’t help but flush. 

“Umemiya, you charmer—” You start to tease him, grin on your lips as you glance up from your homework for the first time in a while, and you nearly freeze on the spot. 

You’ve always known that Hajime Umemiya was far from the standard man. He’s sweet, and kind, and gives everything his all without compromising his own beliefs. He’s also dangerously attractive, too. Half your school has a crush on him, and you know you fall into that category as well. 

Still, you find yourself at a loss for words when you look up and find Umemiya kneeling beside his garden bed, skin slick with sweat from working and t-shirt sleeves bunching up around his biceps to show off the fruits of his years of physical labor.

You realize you’re staring, but the sight before you is just too good for you to look away from. 

It��s only after he calls your name—what you hope is only once—that you snap back to reality and remember just where you are. You turn your head to the side to keep Umemiya from your line of sight, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fight against the blush threatening to expose the crush you’re already doing a horrible enough job of hiding. 

“Are you getting too warm? Your face is looking a little red.” Umemiya says in a casual tone, and it only serves to make you blush brighter. You try and regain control enough to face him, but you know the longer you refuse to meet his stare the more suspicious you’ll look, so you grit your teeth and suffer the consequences. 

You regret it immediately. Because the moment you look over at him, he’s lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat and dirt from his face. The action, which is already incredibly attractive on its own, reveals the lower part of his torso. 

And realistically, you knew Umemiya had abs. But knowing about them and seeing them in person are two entirely different things. 

In your panic to keep from reacting to the sight before you, you accidentally bite your tongue. Still, you risk another glance at Umemiya, just for a chance at seeing the muscle he’s built over the years. You’ve never felt as hopelessly shameless as you do right then. 

“Yeah, the heat.” You stumble over your words when you realize that he’s waiting for your response, a small grin curving his oh so kissable lips skyward. You need to get off the roof to regain your sanity, but no part of you is willing to walk away from the sight Umemiya provides you. “How much longer are you going to be up here?”

“I’ve got to finish repotting these plants, and then we can go somewhere cooler.” He promises. There's only about three seedlings left in the pile he gestured towards, and you think you can force yourself to focus on your homework long enough to last. “You know, it would go a lot faster if you help me. I can teach you!” 

You swear Umemiya must know what he’s doing, because he pairs his request with one of his blinding smiles, and you’re abandoning your homework at the table to join him by the garden bed before you know it. 

Once more, your attention is split between Umemiya and something you should be learning, which is troublesome, because Umemiya is supposed to be the one teaching you. But it’s impossible to focus, you think, with him so close and looking so good. Sure, he’s covered in sweat from working and he’s got dirt smudged across his jaw, but he’s giving you directions in his deep voice and his hair is starting to come loose from the gel as a result of his labors. 

And really, who can blame you for checking out the Hajime Umemiya when he’s so willingly including you in the things he loves the most?

“Did you catch that?” He asks, and you’re like a deer in headlights with your wide-eyed look. Because you absolutely did not catch anything he said after his request to join him on the ground by the plants. 

He chuckles, and you know you’ve been caught out, but there’s no time to feel embarrassed by your inability to focus as he sets his large hands over yours. He’s guiding you through the motions of repotting the seedlings—gently removing it from the original pot, carefully shaking the loose dirt to free up the roots, setting it in its new home, and filling in the extra space with new soil. It’s all strangely intimate, though you wonder if you only feel that way because you’re doing it with Umemiya’s hands leading yours. 

“There. It’s as easy as that.” He smiles proudly at you, his attention focused on your face and not the plant you’d just repotted together. “Now, what’s got you so distracted today?”

Of course, it’s just like him to not let things go when he thinks something’s bothering you. 

Now that you’re sitting so close to him, it’s harder to hide the evidence of your staring. It’s even worse when he gently takes one of your hands between his own, brushing the loose dirt from your skin. You feel yourself burning from the inside out as the gentle touch, so considerate and so Umemiya, you think you might lose your mind soon. 

In a matter of seconds, actually. 

Your breaking point comes the next breath later, when he reaches for the hem of his shirt again, pulling the fabric forward to wipe stubborn dirt away from you.

You see another glimpse of his abs, and you snap. 

“I’m trying really hard to be casual but you’re making it difficult when you look this hot!” You jerk your hand away from him, face aflame, not entirely certain you believe you actually said all that. 

There’s a few seconds where Umemiya is processing your words where you’re planning every possible escape route from the roof. Unfortunately, there’s only one viable option, and you’re certain that he’d be able to catch you before you got too far away. 

But then a grin cracks through the confusion on his face, and you’re the one suddenly left guessing which direction the conversation is about to go. 

“You could’ve just said that!” He beams. You’re not sure what he means by that, so you wait for him to continue. “I worked hard for these muscles. You can feel them, if you want. Only ‘cause it’s you, though.” 

It’s such an odd declaration, seemingly out of place in what you thought would be a normal afternoon of homework and listening to his plant ramblings, that it’s your turn to take a few seconds to process what he said.

When he doesn’t immediately rescind the offer, or laughs like he’s just joking, you slowly reach out and lay a hand on his bicep. He flexes, just to show off, and you know without a doubt that all your thoughts about how strong he is were nothing short but true. 

If Umemiya wasn’t the kindest, most honest person you knew, you might have been worried that he was only letting you feel up his arm to tease you about it. But it’s Umemiya, so you know he has his reasons, and you’re trying not to get your own hopes up as you retract your hands back into your lap. 

That doesn’t mean you stop ogling his muscles, though.

“Now, let’s finish repotting these last two seedlings, and maybe I’ll take off my shirt for you.” He grins, just a tad more of a smirk than a smile. You feel like you’ve been caught out, like a kid with one hand in the cookie jar. “Since you like seeing my abs so much.”

Oh god. He knew you were checking him out the entire time.

But for some reason, the knowledge that he knew from the start gives you permission to be even more shameless. A smirk of your own curves your lips as you reach for the next plant.

“Help me again, Hajime?”

[huggybug]

red flags - ryan leonard

word count: 4.0 words

note: oh hi, remember me?? it’s been a minute but i’m back! my first time writing in a LONG time so go easy on me <3 manifesting big things for the caps with this one🙂‍↕️

One week.

It had been a week since you watched your boyfriend lose to Denver in the Frozen Four. Well, he was your boyfriend. As of 6 days ago, he was your ex.

You weren’t surprised when Ryan texted you the morning after the game. He had returned to Boston the night before but you were already asleep so waking up to a text from Ryan reading ‘I need to focus on hockey right now. I’m sorry’

You didn’t even bother with a response. It wasn’t necessarily a complete surprise but you also weren’t thrilled. Ryan knew he was moving on to the NHL after this season, it was more a matter of when that would happen. And while you figured long distance might be a bit of a strain, you hadn’t expected your relationship to be ended through a text on a random Monday morning.

Over the past two years, you were known among your friends to have a tumultuous relationship. You were both easily jealous and it caused constant fights. It was never the same thing, it would go back and forth and neither of you were one to back down from a fight. You had to admit it was toxic but despite knowing that, you’d be right back with him within the week every time.

They were playing Michigan State and were there for the whole weekend. You had watched his game in your dorm and as Ryan scored his first goal of the season. When the game ended in a 4-3 loss, you sent your boyfriend a text congratulating him on the goal and condolences on the loss. He only heart reacted to the message but you chalked it up to the loss and let it slide. Ryan usually will call you after a game but you didn’t expect anything after that so you put your phone away and went to sleep.

A couple hours later, you woke up to your phone buzzing and open it to see text after text from a friend from high school who just so happened to go to Michigan State. ‘Isn’t this your boyfriend??’ Followed by a blurry photo of guy standing at a bar. You have to zoom in to see the girl who’s trapped between his arms, facing him with her back to said bar. You sit up in bed, flicking through the other photos your friend sent. One of Ryan bending down to hear whatever the girl is saying, one with him tipping his head back in laughter, and finally one where he’s leaning in for what looks like a kiss. While they’re not actually kissing, it’s not hard to assume that’s what’s about to happen.

Your heart is pounding against your chest as you try to figure out what to do. It’s not like you can do much. Ryan’s 12 hours away, making out with a mystery Michigan woman while you’re stuck in your dorm. You quickly answered your friend before switching over to your thread with Ryan. Staring at the message he’d basically ignored from four hours earlier, you’re hitting the call button before you even register it.

“Y/n?” You can barely hear him when he answers but then it gets quieter so you assume he’s stepped outside of whatever bar they’re at. “What’s going on?”

You’re at a loss for words. After a minute of silence, you realize you have nothing to say to him so you hang up. Instead, you copy the photos you were sent and send them to him. Then, you shut your phone off and go back to sleep.

When the team got back to campus the following day, Ryan beelined it to your dorm and when you opened your door to him with lunch from your favourite place and a bouquet of pink tulips, begging for your forgiveness, of course you let him in.

You weren’t sure if you wanted it to stick this time. The past two years had been building up to the excitement of Ryan making to the NHL and you feel like you’d been a small part in that journey so not getting to experience it with him was a little disappointing. However, if that’s what was better for him, so be it. You decided to distract yourself the way you knew best, partying.

Your friends made it their mission to not let you stay home when there was opportunity to go out. You went to bars, frat parties, you name it. And if Ryan happened to see you through peoples stories or posts on social media, that just made it all the better.

Ryan made his NHL debut on the Tuesday and you didn’t watch. You went to a friends house for a games night. He scored his first goal on Friday night, you were at a frat party. The Capitals clinched their playoff spot on the following Tuesday while you were at your favourite bar to watch the Bruins game with your friends.

It had been 8 days since you last spoke to him when the text came through.

Can you be here on the 20th?

You had to check the name three times before you believed it. Ryan Leonard.

You didn’t answer at first, not exactly knowing what to do. Then your phone started to ring. You slid your phone off the table and excused yourself from your friends. Stepping outside of the restaurant, you took a breath before sliding to answer.

“What do you want Ryan?” You answered with an attitude.

“Did you see my text?” He puffed out quickly.

“Yes” You sighed, “Again, what do you want?” You weren’t exactly upset but you were frustrated.

“Well the girls were asking when you’d be able to get here because I guess they want some group picture in the outfits…” Ryan trailed off and left you confused.

“What girls?” You felt like this was a practical joke being played on you. There was not a single hint of your understanding in what he was talking about.

“The fucking wives Y/n. What do you mean what girls?” Ryan huffed and you almost laughed at the fact that he sounded so put out by your confusion.

“Ryan what the fuck are you talking about?”

“The jackets Y/n. They ordered them and now they want to know when you’ll be here to get yours” That made your head spin. First of all, how did they know to order one for Ryan and also why was he now expecting you to come collect it.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Y/n. Just answer the question” He was getting mad but you didn’t care.

“No Ryan, tell me what the hell is going on. Did I just imagine you breaking up with me in a text last week? Are you really coming back and pretending nothing happened? You can’t blame me for being confused right now”

“Look, I shouldn’t have blown you off like that, I’m sorry. I was stressed about leaving and I know that’s not an excuse but I promise I’ll be better. I just need you here for playoffs, please baby” You took a deep breath, taking it in. He sounded sincere but Ryan always had a knack for that. You never doubted his sincerity and usually that led to your own demise.

“If I get you a flight on the 20th, can you be here?” He asked after a moment had gone by without you saying anything. You can't believe the words until they're spewing out of your mouth.

“Fine. Send me the ticket” You said quickly before hanging up the phone, dropping your head and wondering why the hell you just agreed to that.

…

As soon as you stepped out of the doors at Dulles International Airport, your eyes locked on Ryan. He was leaning against what you would imagine was his rental car, a sleek black Range Rover, with a huge bouquet of pink flowers in hand. One thing about Ryan is while he knows how to cause a fight, he sure as hell knows how to fix one.

“Hi baby” He immediately pulls you into his arms and you melt right into him. “I’m so sorry, I missed you, I love you so much”

You take a step back and accept the flowers as he takes care of your luggage. “Missed you too Ry”

Last summer you went to see Ryan when he was staying at his family’s house on the Cape with a few of the guys on the team. Ryan promised you a week of drinking, going out on his boat, and hanging around with friends and you were excited. That was until you spent the first two days in the house alone while all the boys went golfing. You could have gone with them but when Will had been the one to ask you to come instead of your boyfriend, you opted to stay back and sulk.

When Ryan came home from golfing the second day, you were in a bad mood and he was the perfect target to take it out on.

"Hey babe, we're going to go out for dinner, you almost ready?" Ryan asked as he walked into your shared bedroom for the week.

"Oh I'm invited?" You scoffed and he paused, shirt halfway over his head, turning to look at you.

"What are you talking about? Of course you are" Ryan tosses his shirt onto the floor near the laundry hamper.

"Well you haven't exactly cared to have me around so far, how am I supposed to know tonight's different" You huff and you can hear Ryan sigh as he turns to head into the bathroom.

"I'm not doing this right now. Come or don't, I don't give a shit" Ryan rolls his eyes, clearly frustrated with you but you continue to push at him.

"You invite me here and for what Ryan? To have me wait around for you while you're out with your buddies? Great way for me to spend my time"

"God forbid I go golfing with the boys" He holds his hands up in surrender, mocking you.

"You know it's not just that Ryan" He had barely spoken to you over the past couple days, coming home after dinner at the club last night and leaving this morning before you woke up.

"You're acting ridiculous right now, I'm going to shower. Either be ready when I'm done or stay home" He flings the door shut behind him and you're left alone in the bedroom once again.

Needing some fresh air, you head to the backyard but stop in your tracks when you run into Will as you're stepping outside. "Hey, are you okay?" You laugh dryly, knowing that the look on your face is answering his question itself. "Leno's an idiot, I'm sure he didn't mean whatever he said" The fact that he knew that you two were fighting without you having to say anything spoke volumes about your relationship. Sometimes you thought about what your friends or family members think about your relationship. How many more times your best friend will let you crash at her place at 2 am after Ryan had ran you out of his dorm, when you’re crying on her couch and she has to reassure you everything is going to be okay. You think about how much time and energy this relationship takes from you yet you still decide to go back each time.

"You know I love you Will but if you're just going to defend him, I really don't want to hear it" You brush past him and move to the edge of the deck, looking out at the water and taking a few breaths.

“Look, you know I love you both but give him a chance to apologize for whatever it is, you know he will, he always does” Will says and hesitates for a moment, “You guys always figure it out, this time won’t be any different” You hear the door to the house open and close again behind him.

“That’s the problem though, isn’t it?” You mumble to yourself. You let Will’s words sit with you for a moment before heading back up to your room where Ryan is just finishing getting ready.

“You’re not ready?” He asks through the mirror as he fusses with his hair.

“I was just talking to Will and-” He abruptly cuts you off.

“Oh? Fucking around with Smitty now are we?” He asks and you’re frozen in your spot, jaw hanging at his insinuation. While he had had his moments, you were not a cheater.

“Stop talking out of your ass you know that’s not true” You roll your eyes, almost mad at yourself that you had come back up here to make up with him.

“Wouldn’t put it past you”

“You know what? Fuck you. I’m done” Grabbing your bag from the closet, you start throwing your things in, collecting whatever you can find of your stuff before moving onto the bathroom.

“Oh you’re gonna run away now?” He wasn’t even looking at you, he was on his phone and that only made you more angry.

“Yeah I am because I’m so over your shit. You act like a child and I’m not putting up with it anymore”

Once you’re in the car, it’s like nothing even happened. Ryan spends the whole time talking about the team and how great everyone’s been at helping him out. He explains how he’s living with one of the guys and it’s been nothing short of a dream. Pulling up to the house, it’s absolutely gorgeous. Ryan gets your bags out and is up to the door before you can even process it. He introduces you to his teammate and his girlfriend, Maddie before ushering you towards his room, leaving your bags by the closet doors. You wait until he’s finished fiddling around with things before you burst the bubble of happiness he’s created.

“Ryan, why am I here?” He sets the puck down that he had picked up to show you, his first goal puck you’re assuming, and turns to look at you.

It’s the first time you’ve really gotten to look at him, to take it all in. He looks tired. His usual bright blue eyes are dimmed and are matching with the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders are slightly hunched like he’s holding more weight on them since you’d last seen him.

“I needed you” He says simply. It’s quiet but you can hear the hesitation in his voice. He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I fucked up leaving you like that, I know. I thought it would be for the best but I think I forgot how much I fucking need you in my life”

You don’t know what to say to that so instead you close the distance between the two of you and pull him down for a kiss. This is how it always goes with you two and well, who were you to ruin the cycle.

…

Capital One Arena was absolutely electric for the Captials’ first playoff game. You follow close behind Maddie, the only girlfriend on the team that you know however you’re all in a group. 20 girls in matching jackets charging through the arena and you’ve never felt more out of place. The girls are all talking to each other and while they all introduced themselves when Maddie introduced you to the group, you had been left out of the conversation ever since. You didn’t blame them though, they’ve all spent the year together, their husbands or boyfriends were all friends and you were just a random 20 year old following them around. At least back at BC, all the girls were so similar it was easy to hang out as a group.

You tried to keep up the facade of being Ryan’s girlfriend. It wasn’t a total lie of course, but the reality of your relationship seemed too intricate to explain to the group of women you had just met. You spoke when you were spoken to but aside from that, you kept to yourself which nobody seemed to mind.

“So Y/n, this is your first time here? You didn’t come for Ryan’s debut?” One of the girls asks and you smile sheepishly.

“I couldn’t make it because of school” You lie, “I couldn’t miss this though” That part was more true.

Then, the lights dimmed and the conversation was dropped, everyone’s attention turning to the ice where the team was coming out of the tunnel as the crowd roared.

You spotted Ryan as soon as he stepped onto the ice. This is what you were comfortable with. Watching Ryan’s games over the past couple years became one of your favourite memories, you loved watching him excel in his passion and a wave of pride rolled over you as the in-arena announcer said his name, prompting the crowd to get even louder.

The game eventually got started and you watched intently as you toyed with the sleeve of your jacket. The jacket with the 9 patches on the sleeves, Leonard stitched into the collar. It made you feel a certain type of way, it was like Ryan had accepted you into this part of his life. Like by giving you this jacket, he had decided you weren’t going to be a part of his college life, you were going to last longer than that. You’d assume that after two years you wouldn’t need a silly jacket to tell you that but Ryan always kept you guessing.

The game ended up going to overtime but luckily the Capitals pulled off the win. The girls celebrated with the rest of the fans before heading down to the family room. You of course just followed along, not knowing where to go and suddenly very grateful you had a group of people with you so you didn’t have to figure it out yourself. The family room was pretty full once everyone was there, some kids running around while the younger ones were falling asleep on the couches. Guys trickled out one by one from the big double doors at one end of the room, which you assumed led to the locker room. You waited for probably 30 minutes before Ryan emerged, wide smile on his face and eyes searching for you in the small crowd that was left.

“Congrats on the win” You say as he hugs you tightly, pulling you close.

“Thanks for being here baby” He says quietly and you smile, squeezing him even tighter.

It was the moments like this that made you forget all the red flags. Ryan was the sweetest, most loving guy most of the time. The not so great moments, those were only a fraction of what you experienced with him. You went easily as he slung his arm around your shoulders and started walking you out to his car.

…

Game two was here and it feels like the energy had multiplied from last game. You went out with the girls before and surprisingly, you felt more at ease. As you all headed to the arena, you found yourself thinking that you could get used to this.

This game wasn't nearly as close as the last one but the fans fed into the excitement and you cheered as the Capitals won again, going 2-0 in the series. It was the best possible outcome and you knew Ryan would be excited. The team was all happy with the wins but most, if not all of them, have experienced it before. Ryan wasn't new to playoff hockey but the Stanley Cup Playoffs were a whole thing entirely, or so he told you.

The night went similarly to last time, you waited for him in the family room and once he finally emerged, you walked hand in hand to his car.

"So you leave tomorrow?" You ask him once you're out of the parking garage.

"Yeah in the afternoon I think" He pauses, trying to remember the schedule that they had just gone over in their meeting. "There's probably a flight to Boston in the morning" You nodded, sinking back into your seat. Of course you had to go back. You had school and there was no reason for you to stay here while Ryan was in Montreal.

"I should pack then" You say more to yourself than to him.

"You didn't expect to stay here did you?" He asked and the question hit you like a knife in the chest. You were at a loss for words for a moment, feeling stupid for ever expecting anything different from him.

"So is this it then?" You decide to ignore his question and ask one of your own instead.

"What?" He looks over at you with wide eyes.

"Well I'd rather get it out of the way rather than land in Boston to another text from you" You say coldly, staring straight ahead at the road in front of you.

"Y/n... I said I was sorry for. that" He replied, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"I just don't know if I can trust you to not do it again" You don't want to start a fight but you had to ask.

"Are you serious?"

"Look at our track record Ry, and it's not just you. Trust me, I know I've caused a lot of it too. We just can't seem to figure it out"

"I have figured it out. I need you Y/n. I need you in my life, in Washington. I don't know how you got the idea that I don't but we can figure it out, I know we can" He flicked the turn signal on a little more aggressively than necessary, his frustration ringing out.

"Why can't you see it Ryan? You shouldn't need me here. You should want me" You sigh, "And you don't, that's the problem" Ryan's number one priority was Ryan and right after that it was hockey. You didn't fault him for it but with that being said, it just didn't seem like there was a space for you in his life right now.

"No- I can't-" He had pulled into the driveway now and turned as much as he could to face you in the car. "I'm sorry, just tell me what to do"

"Look, we both have our shit we need to figure out. We break up and we make up but nothing ever changes. Just cause we want it to work doesn't mean it should, some things just aren't meant to be"

...

You watched the airport get smaller as the plane pulled away and you felt it deep in your chest. You were leaving a part of you behind in Washington. He was going to get on a plane himself and you hated that he would probably be laughing and joking around with his teammates while you're by yourself, pressed against the window.

When Ryan dropped you off this morning, walking away from him was the hardest thing you have ever done. It wasn't the first time but it did feel like the last time. In your previous break ups, it typically was a result from a fight. It was immature and silly but that's what made you fall right back into it days later. This time, it was stemmed from a more mature place, you had a conversation and while it wasn't necessarily what either of you wanted, but it was what was needed.

However, that didn't mean the door was closed forever. And if he messaged you when they made it to the finals, asking if you could come back to the city for the series, part of you knew you'd be looking for flights before you even finished reading the text.

[help-itrappedmyself]

Liminal Jason part 3

For those of you that saw the blip earlier, when I tried to post this but it broke cause it was too long, here is the real thing. Masterpost for earlier parts.

Sorry again. And slight tw for panic attack

Jason woke up slowly, taking in his surroundings as he adjusted to being awake. It was quiet, and a little humid. He was on a bed, could feel the sheets beneath him, and he wasn’t restrained at all. There was a moment of confusion, because when you wake up after being attacked like that you usually end up dead or a hostage. There was a creeping realization dawning in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He opened his eyes, not wanting his suspicions to be true. But he was in a holding cell in the cave, and he realized what must have happened. Then he was pissed. 

He let out a growl, pushing to sit up on the bed. He thought they were doing better. He thought his family trusted him again. His growl was angry, foreboding, telling of the danger and anger in his thoughts. But his head was pounding from the sedative. They knew he hated needles. Hated drugs. Why would they do this to him, trick him like this when they knew how he felt about it. The haze in his head, making his thoughts heavy, and doing nothing but reminding him of all the harm drugs have done to the people around him. He stopped growling, hoping the quiet would help. Much less angry, the clouds in his head starting to make him sad and breathless. He hopes the effects wear off soon. He can’t focus. There is something important that he is missing. He is forgetting something, the spiral of his thoughts and emotions starting to lean towards hysteria. He’s alone. Trapped and alone, mind heavy with fog. He can’t think, why is he stuck here? His breath starts coming faster, increasing while his heart starts to race. He tries to keep quiet, and calm down. A whimper escapes him as he finds a corner and slides down the wall. Then he heard a keen. Close, probably coming from one of the other cells. The sound cuts through the haze. Important, a strike of clarity hitting him with a pulse as he remembers the kid. There was a kid with him. 

Danny. Jason hears him call out again, a sharp keen of panic-confusion, and Jason needs to help him. Jason stumbles up, leaning on the wall for support. He heads towards the door, but he was familiar with how the cells worked. He reached it and of course it was locked. He attempted to manually override, but the pad inside the cell was locked down. The cell can only be opened once someone on the inside clears whoever is inside it. Created for instances where one of them has been incapacitated by a new strain of fear gas, or a new Ivy concoction. To hold someone until an antidote can be created. There was no getting out of here before the other came by. 

Hopefully, they’re on their way now, seeing him awake on the cameras. Jason has some choice words to be had about his situation, angry seething inside him as the panic from earlier recedes. 

Danny lets out another keen, breathy and biting and Jason hears him start to panic. Jason still has to do what he can. He can’t reach him, but he can try and calm him down. They’re in this together, and Jason is going to do whatever he can for the kid. He let out a rumble, steady and calm in response to Danny’s cries. His rumble is filled with annoyance, but still said okay-here-safe. 

Danny is silent for a moment before he hums back a confused-trust. It’s closer, louder, like Danny has moved to be right on the other side of the wall from Jason. This kid, who just had his world destroyed, came here alone and afraid, and he trusts Jason. Screw yelling at the Bats. Danny needs him, and priority one is getting Danny to a place he can feel safe. 

A soft churring sound leaves Jason, sweet and caring, and Jason hopes the kid knows that he is going to do everything he can for him. Then Jason hears Danny let out a short purr, a quiet susurration, that ends as quickly as it starts. Jason is stunned by how much faith Danny is putting in him. How much Jason cares for this boy he just met. 

The bats can pry this boy out from his cold, dead hands.

[tinytinyblogs]

Darling, i'm sorry..

After a fight, they need to make things right with you.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬 Finally, my mind kicked into gear and I was able to post a reaction, hoping it’s good enough, just like I thought it would be.

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Bang Chan

He’s always been someone who takes his responsibilities incredibly seriously, to the point where it consumes him. Every task, big or small, is something he approaches with a sense of duty and focus, leaving no room for jokes or lightness. This intense pressure is something he’s put on himself for years, striving for perfection in everything he does. But sometimes, that pressure builds up too much, and it overwhelms him. That day, everything seemed to come crashing down at once. Feeling stressed and frustrated, he lashed out, snapping at you to shut up and stop bothering him, even though you weren't the source of his stress. The moment he saw your face change—your smile gone and the hurt in your eyes as you quietly walked away—he immediately realized he had made a mistake. Guilt washed over him the second he saw you turn, knowing he had taken his stress out on the wrong person. But by then, the damage was done, and there was nothing he could do to take back those words.

Later that same day, the weight of his actions gnawed at him, and he couldn’t shake the guilt that had been eating away at him since the moment you walked away. He knew he had to make things right, so he rushed to your house, heart pounding with anxiety and regret. When he arrived and saw you sitting on your bed, quietly sobbing, his heart sank. The sight of you in pain because of him, knowing he had caused it, made his chest ache. He had been too harsh, too scary in his anger, and now, seeing the aftermath of that moment, it hurt him even more. He approached slowly, his usual confidence replaced with hesitation. Gently, he sat down beside you on the bed, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight. His hand reached out, trembling just a bit, and he softly stroked your head, his fingers brushing through your hair as if trying to comfort you with just a touch. "Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice low and filled with genuine remorse. There was a gentleness to his tone, something tender and caring, all the things he should’ve shown earlier but hadn’t.

"I shouldn’t have shooed you away like that," he continued, the regret evident in every word. His hand moved to yours, fingers wrapping around it, holding it tightly as if he was afraid to let go. After a moment of silence, he couldn’t bear the distance between you anymore, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close in a warm, protective hug. His embrace was firm but full of love, as if trying to shield you from the pain he had caused. "I won’t do that again," he murmured into your hair, his voice soft but sincere. "I love you, you know that, right?" There was an almost pleading tone in his voice, as if he needed you to believe him, to forgive him. Holding you close, he silently promised himself to never let his anger hurt you like that again, vowing to do better, to be better, because he couldn’t stand the thought of ever making you cry like that again. After that day, he made sure to give you his full attention, always making time to show his love. He pampered you with affection—cuddling, whispering sweet things, and holding you close. Through every hug and kiss, he let you know how sorry he was and how much he loved you, making sure you always felt cherished.

Minho

That day, Minho had been feeling unusually sensitive, weighed down by a lot of things running through his mind. He was overwhelmed, and in his frustration, he pushed you away. His expression was intense, his eyes almost scary as he shut himself off from you. Hurt by his actions, you turned and walked away, the beginnings of tears welling up in your eyes. In that moment, Minho thought he needed space, time to be alone and sort out everything going on in his head. But as the minutes passed, he began to realize that being away from you only made him feel emptier. Slowly, the walls he'd put up started to crumble, and despite still clinging to a bit of his pride, he knew deep down that he needed to be close to you. His heart ached, missing your presence, your warmth. Without fully realizing it, his feet carried him in your direction. Even though he was still caught up in his own stubbornness, he couldn’t ignore the pull toward you—the longing to hold you, to feel you near once more.

Once Minho stepped inside your place, he knew exactly what to expect. The silent treatment wasn’t a surprise—he deserved it. Without a word, he made his way straight to the kitchen, moving quietly as he began to prepare your favorite meal his mind was racing as he cooked, trying to find the right words, maybe because he's not someone who’s very vocal about his feelings.. Cooking was one of the few ways he knew how to show his apology without speaking too soon. Once the food was ready, he carefully carried it to the bedroom, where you were sitting quietly his eyes instantly soften the moment he sees you standing there. He placed the dish in front of you, the aroma filling the room. There was a heavy silence as his eyes stayed on you, trying to read your mood, to figure out the right moment to say something. Finally, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. "I'm sorry," he began, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I know I shouldn't have treated you like that." As he spoke, his hand gently found its way to your cheek, his thumb softly brushing against your skin. "Eat, it's still warm," he urged, his words tender but filled with care. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a small gesture meant to convey his regret and affection. He watched as you began to eat the food he had prepared, giving you space but not leaving your side. Minho knew that making up after a fight would take time—he wasn’t rushing it. He was the type who needed time to process things too, so he understood the need for patience. But that day, even in the quiet, his actions spoke volumes. With every small gesture, he showed you that, despite the conflict, his love for you hadn’t wavered. It was in the way he cooked your favorite meal, in the soft kiss, and in the way he stayed close, reminding you that his feelings ran deep, even without words.

Changbin

Changbin might usually be soft and gentle when he's around you, but there are times when the pressure of people’s judgments becomes too much for him. During these moments, he feels overwhelmed by the weight of their opinions, which makes him more sensitive than usual. He withdraws into himself, rarely smiling or showing his usual warmth. If you try to lighten the mood or play around with him when he's feeling this way, it can quickly escalate into an argument. In his frustration and emotional vulnerability, he reacts defensively, saying things he shouldn’t—hurtful words that don't reflect his true feelings but are more about his own internal struggles. However, as soon as he sees the hurt in your eyes or notices that you’re upset by his outburst, the realization of his mistake hits him hard. The guilt sets in almost immediately, and he becomes painfully aware that he was wrong—very wrong. His anger fades quickly, replaced by a deep sense of regret, knowing that he let his emotions get the best of him and hurt someone who means so much to him.

Changbin moves a step closer to you, the fury that had once dominated his features fading away, replaced by a complex blend of guilt and the familiar softness that always fills his gaze when he looks at you. His once rigid posture relaxes, and his eyes, usually so fierce, now shimmer with a vulnerability that catches you off guard. The love that had seemed lost in his earlier anger reappears, and you can feel the weight of his emotions pouring out of him as he reaches for you. Without hesitation, he pulls you into his strong arms, holding you so tightly as if afraid to let go, as if his touch alone could mend the invisible rift between you. His body, firm and solid, presses against yours, providing warmth and comfort that you've always found in his embrace. You can feel his breath hot against your skin as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply, inhaling the scent of you as though it’s a balm to his troubled soul. "I'm sorry, love," he whispers, his voice heavy with remorse.

"I'm so, so sorry." His words are muffled, but you can hear the pain and regret in every syllable. "I must be out of my mind," he continues, his arms tightening around you as though he's terrified you might slip away. "Things got so overwhelming... I'm stressed out, and I let it get the better of me. Please... don't be mad at me." You feel the sincerity in his words as his hands run gently up and down your back, offering both an apology and a plea for forgiveness in the way he holds you. He leans back just enough to gaze into your eyes, his own filled with emotion—no longer clouded by frustration, but by love, guilt, and an earnest desire to make things right. His forehead presses gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he softly murmurs, "I love you. So much. More than anything." His lips press against your forehead in a tender kiss, lingering there for a few moments longer than usual, as though the simple gesture could erase the tension that had built between you both.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin is the type of person who deeply connects his emotions to everything he does and everyone he interacts with. This emotional depth often leads to moments where misunderstandings or disagreements occur between the two of you. During these times, it’s not uncommon for him to respond in a way that might seem cold or distant. He might give you a sharp glare, or show frustration in some other way, and then leave abruptly. Even though it’s not the right way to handle things, he tends to walk away instead of talking about it in the moment. After this, there’s usually a stretch of silence between you both. You might not see or speak to each other for a few days. This time apart is important for Hyunjin, as he uses it to reflect and think things through. He needs space to process his emotions, but as the days pass, he slowly starts to realize that the argument or disagreement was something small or trivial. He begins to understand that it wasn’t worth the silent treatment, and that the two of you could have discussed it calmly from the start, without letting it spiral into a fight or turning to shouting.

Ultimately, he comes to see that open communication is the better path, and that resolving things doesn’t need to involve so much emotional distance. He spent hours at his easel, lost in thought, as his brush moved gently across the canvas. Each stroke seemed to carry the weight of his emotions, and slowly, a beautiful painting of the two of you began to take form—your silhouettes intertwined, bathed in soft light. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, of how beautiful you are, especially when you're around him. In that moment, he realized he needed to make things right. He was trying to express everything he couldn't say in words, letting his heart pour out through the art. When the time was right, when he finally gathered the courage, he came to you. In one hand, he held the painting—his feelings laid bare in each color, each line. In the other hand, a bouquet of beautiful flowers, carefully chosen to match the tenderness he felt for you.

He stood before you, his eyes filled with emotion, and without a word, he set the things aside and stepped closer, his eyes holding that soft look he always reserves just for you he pulled you close, cupping your face gently in his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice soft but filled with sincerity as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I shouldn't have said those things to you. I didn't mean any of it." Then, wrapping his arms around you, he held you close, ensuring that you could feel his warmth and the steady beat of his heart. His embrace was full of love and quiet apologies, a silent promise that he was ready to make things right. "I love you," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. "Really, I do. Please don’t be mad anymore. I'll make it up to us, I swear." He lingered in the embrace, not wanting to let go, as if you might slip away, even though you wouldn’t. In that moment, he made sure you knew just how deep and strong his love truly is.

[starmocha]

OK, fuck it, I'll throw this idea out into the universe. Very, very rough. And I will never complete this story lmao ✌️ I was gonna do bullet points, but I am also incapable of making things easy for myself. 😔

Caleb/MC/Zayne love triangle AU where Caleb and MC had a secret relationship prior to chapter 4 that resulted in a pregnancy that won't be discovered until after The Explosion.

When U Come Back

All it took was one second for her world to disappear.

One moment she was speaking with Caleb outside Grandma Josephine's home, their conversation tensed because of a disagreement, and suddenly before she could even realize what had happened, she found herself crumbled on the floor, hearing flames crackling, the scorching heat like hellfire surrounding her.

There was an explosion. Her mind was in a frenzy as it tried to register the scene before her. Right, an explosion. Her hand was on the door handle. Caleb had gone in first and just as she was about to follow suit, she was blown back and now she lay there, her vision failing.

Caleb...Caleb...!

His necklace lay in front of her on the ground. No. It couldn't be.

Caleb!

She shakily reached for his necklace, grasping tightly as her consciousness slipped away.

When she regained consciousness later, she found herself in a hospital room.

Confused, completely disoriented, she barely registered the tears running down her face until the door opened and Zayne walked in, his eyes widened in concern.

"Doctor...Zayne...?" She still hadn't realized her cheeks were wet with tears, only being able to focus on the heavy pounding in her chest. "I...I had a bad dream...why...why am I here?"

Zayne drew in a breath. He steadied his own breathing, mindful of his tone as he questioned her gently.

"Do you not remember anything that happened earlier?"

A knot formed in her stomach.

"No," she said hesitantly, hoping the scene still vivid in her head was unreal. "I...I don't..."

Zayne understood the situation, knowing she was still in shock so he wasn't going to pressure her. He did know, unfortunately, that she needed to hear the truth.

"I'm sorry," he said, his chest tightening when he saw that flicker of fear in her eyes, "Miss Josephine and Caleb are both...deceased."

She started laughing, nearly crying in hysterics. "That's not a funny joke, Zayne."

He was quiet.

"Caleb and I had an argument earlier," she continued, speaking more to herself. Her words were pouring out frantically as fresh tears rushed down her cheeks. "We had an argument. We were going to make up later. We never go to bed angry at each other. We were..."

"I'm sorry."

There was a knock at the door and a nurse entered, apologizing quietly to the young doctor. She mentioned there were detectives who wished to speak with the patient. Zayne sent her away, saying the patient needed some time to calm down first.

Zayne stayed with her the whole time, feeling his own grief at losing a childhood friend as well.

Some time passed. She returned to work with bags under eyes, looking malnourished. She hadn't had much of an appetite lately, and sleep scared her. She found herself dreaming of that evening over and over again, reliving that moment when she and Caleb were upset at one another.

They were supposed to make up. They always made up. She caressed his necklace in her hand, her thumb brushing over the pendant, tracing the engraved message:

When U come back

Her co-workers chimed in that she should take time off. Captain Jenna herself even said the Hunters Association offered bereavement leave, but the moment she heard that term, she unknowingly shot her superior a look of intense hatred.

There were startled gasps around her, breaking her out of her stupor. She immediately apologized once she realized what she had done. She didn't want to hear that word, or any similar words that would remind her that Caleb was gone.

No one was angry at her. They were all concerned for her, seeing she was wasting away, destroying herself as she grieved.

Tara offered to take her home, helped her as she needed. Captain Jenna also issued this as an order, knowing she wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Before she could protest, she suddenly felt dizzy, feeling an intense migraine and a fatigue unlike any she had felt before in her life. As she collapsed, she heard her co-workers crying out her name, and in her hand, she grasped Caleb's necklace tighter, the last thing she heard before blacking out was hearing Caleb’s voice calling her:

Pipsqueak, I’ll always be by your side.

Another hospital room.

She stared at the ceiling, still feeling fatigued. It was bound to happen, she realized, knowing the many sleepless nights had finally caught up with her.

Just as she sat up, the door opened and she immediately locked eyes with Zayne.

“I’m sorry to trouble you,” she said, “I just needed to rest at home. They didn’t need to check me into the hospital—”

Zayne stopped her from getting out of bed. He was holding a clipboard, his expression hardened. “We had to do some tests to rule out any major concerns…”

She sensed something was off about Zayne’s demeanor. “What is it? Do I have an illness or something?”

“Not quite,” he said, realizing there was no tactful way to deliver his news. He continued calmly, “You’re pregnant.”

She stared at him, not believing she had heard him correctly.

A tensed silence settled in the room, neither person able to tear their eyes off the other. Zayne waited patiently for her to register the news, seeing in her eyes the different emotions passing in quick successions. He was startled when she suddenly broke down crying, her hands settled over the flatness of her belly.

“Pregnant?” she asked again, looking up at him with tears down her cheeks.

Zayne breathed in sharply and nodded. He kept his expression neutral, hiding the fact that a mixture of feelings was warring inside him, ranging from anger to heartbreak. He had always thought he would have more time with her, a chance to cross that line of childhood friends, but it seemed all of the recent outings or late nights together were simply just two old friends catching up and nothing more.

He nodded quietly. “If you need help contacting the father—”

“It’s Caleb’s.”

The silence returned, but it was broken just as quickly as it had arrived.

“It’s Caleb’s,” she sobbed again, her arms suddenly wrapped around Zayne’s torso. He stood there rigid, unsure of what to do. There were questions swirling around in his head, but they didn’t seem to matter to him as much. All he could do—wanted to do—was comfort her.

He let his arms wrapped around her, his heart breaking again as she continued to cry.

“It’s Caleb’s…”

Zayne remained by her side. That won’t ever change, he had decided long ago. For as long as she would allow him, he would stay by her side.

He stayed with her, saving her from herself as she angrily tore herself apart, guilt-ridden that in her grief, she had allowed her baby—Caleb’s baby—to also suffer.

“You didn’t know,” he soothed her, his arms around her in comfort. “It’s still early. You hadn’t done anything wrong.”

He brushed her tears aside with his thumbs, his voice still as gentle as always. “You are allowed to grieve for as long as you need to,” he said, “I know he was important to you.”

He just hadn’t realized the extent of their relationship together. Zayne quelled his jealously before it could ever simmer. This was a deceased man, and also, his own friend. He didn’t want such ugly feelings to fester inside him like this. There were more important matters at hand now anyway.

Zayne stayed. She didn’t push him away, so he stayed.

He stayed and guided her through her first trimester. He made her ginger tea for when the morning sickness came. He advised her to rest as often as she needed since these first months were going to be rough on her body. He also made her meals often, finding the most nutritious recipes for an expectant woman.

One evening, over dinner, she asked, “Are you Doctor Zayne right now or…just Zayne?”

He looked surprised, not understanding her implication.

“It’s just…a doctor wouldn’t care about his patient this much, would he?”

“That is up for debate,” he answered, “many doctors do go above and beyond for their patients.”

“Then I’ll ask again: is this Doctor Zayne…or Zayne?”

He looked into her expectant eyes before his own drifted down to her growing middle. A small bump was forming, a reminder that she was carrying a new life inside her body. Another man’s baby.

Zayne met her gaze again. “Does it matter how I respond?”

“You don’t have to do this…”

“‘Do this?’”

“Take care of me like this,” she answered, that ever-familiar flicker of guilt returning in her eyes. “I can take care of myself. If not, Tara has also been helping me out, too, so you don’t need to—”

“If I say I am Zayne, will it change anything?”

She was silent, so he continued, his tone was soft, but his words were firm.

“If I say, I want to stay with you, will you let me?”

She looked up. “I don’t want you to have the wrong impression—”

“What impression would that be then?”

“That…I am using you.”

“I don’t believe you are. I know you aren’t,” he said, continuing, “But if I say I would let you use me, will that scare you?”

She drew in a sharp breath, feeling her heartbeat quickening. He crossed over to her side, kneeling down next to her.

“If I say, I want to stay by your side, then…will you let me?”

“Zayne…”

She slipped her hand into his, that flash of hesitancy in her eyes unmissed by him, but he was not upset by it. Not in the slightest. He wasn’t demanding anything from her, nor was he expecting anything in return.

He simply wanted to stay by her side.

That night, she slept for the first time in ages, curled into his protective embrace. The weight she had been carrying on her shoulders were lightened by his presence, his soothing words freeing her from her own shackles as she allowed him to break down her wall.

“You can sleep now, I’m here,” Zayne whispered to her as she slept. The deep troubled creases in her expression relaxed, as if in response to his words. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, his words earnest: “I will always be here.”

Gradually, over time, there were many changes happening. Her belly had grown bigger, rounding out distinctively that it suddenly made everything feel so real. She was having a baby. Caleb’s baby. The tumultuous emotions that followed would always send her down a dark path.

The baby was somehow a constant reminder of the man she had lost, but at the same time also a gift he had left for her, his promise staying true. He was still here. He would never leave her.

Just like Zayne had also promised to stay with her.

In the beginning, each passing day felt like Hell, a constant nightmare she wasn’t able to escape from. Time moved so agonizingly slow, it might as well have been frozen, trapping her in that perpetual state of grief and anger.

Then, so subtly, Zayne reached into her depths of despairs and pulled her out. He was patient, empathetic, and careful. He had never overstepped any boundary, never took advantage of her vulnerability, but he still loved her unconditionally.

Hesitantly, she began to allow herself to reciprocate, genuinely touched by all of his thoughtfulness and concerns. Some days, she might even admit that she adored him. She adored the way he interacted with the children in the pediatric ward, she adored the way he enjoyed eating sweets, she adored how he always put others above himself. It made her want to take care of him herself, wanting to return the love she was receiving. She also wanted him to feel as loved and cherished as he made her feel.

The first time she kissed him it took them both by surprise.

She was nearing six months before she finally felt the baby’s first movements. After weeks of carrying this growing anxiety inside her that something could be wrong with the baby or pregnancy, the moment she felt those first few gentle kicks had her laughing in joy for the first time in months.

Zayne had just finished building a crib for the nursery when she rushed into the room in her delicate condition, throwing herself into his embrace.

When she guided his hand to her belly, his look of surprise staying only briefly before a small smile replaced it. Without thinking, she leaned up and kissed him, and instead of feeling shocked, Zayne responded immediately, feeling joy swelled in his own chest.

He had been by her side through all of this. He had taken care of her when she was sick or tired. He had been the one to comfort her through her mood swings. He was there helping her buy maternity clothes or choosing the necessary items the baby would need. In times, he realized, he had also grown to care about the baby she carried—even if it was not his.

Now, he felt a new emotion stirring inside him. She wanted him to be the first to hear the news. She wanted him to feel the movements alongside her. She kissed him. He wanted to be bolder.

He cupped her face in his hands and guided her lips back to his, relishing in the way she responded, her wall coming down completely as she surrendered to her feelings for him.

It was almost like playing make-believe.

Their feelings for one another were genuine, but sometimes they would forget. At least until someone, naively, took off the rose-tinted glasses they wore.

Congratulations. You two must be so thrilled about the baby.

Oh, what a beautiful couple. Their baby will surely be beautiful as well.

Have you picked out a name yet?

They responded to such comments with polite smiles, but once they were alone, the masks fell off.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why are you apologizing?” Zayne asked, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She didn’t do anything wrong, but she still felt like she needed to apologize to him. Zayne had never said anything, never showed her the slightest inkling that he might be affected by such words or speculations, but she felt like she knew Zayne just as well as he knew her.

She knew he never wanted her to see when he was hurting.

“They’re just words,” he said calmly, his hand reaching over to rub lazy circles around her belly. “I will not love him any less just because he’s not my biological child.”

Zayne meant every word.

The moment the baby was born, after over twenty-six hours of labor, she watched as Zayne cradled the newborn with such tender care. Anyone who would see him hold the baby boy would never suspect that he wasn’t the father.

There were so many bittersweet feelings that lingered, the grip they had on her firm and unyielding. Never once did she dare to relinquish the guilt she carried.

She felt guilty for letting another man into her life again, feeling like she was betraying Caleb, letting the memory of him be overridden. She also felt guilty to Zayne, feeling like he was picking up the broken pieces of her and mending her back again to some semblance of a person but never completely whole. She felt guilty to both men. One for losing her heart to another and the other for never having her full heart as his alone.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

She gasped when the hospital bed shifted with Zayne’s sudden weight. He sat on the edge, the baby tucked in his arms protectively. He reached out and brushed away some of her tears. She hadn’t realized that she had started crying. She was feeling so many things at once all stemming from different origins.

She was exhausted from the long grueling hours of labor. She was emotionally overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last nine months. She knew her hormones were still out of control, heightening everything she felt to an extreme degree.

“I’m just tired,” she fibbed weakly. The exhaustion on her face was clear as day. Zayne could sense she was withholding something from him, but he knew when to not pressure her. In due time, he knew she would open herself up more to him.

For now, he accepted her benign lie.

The baby started to fuss, alerting the both of them. Zayne chuckled and gently passed the newborn over to his mother.

“He must want his mama now,” Zayne said lightheartedly. He was startled when she started to tremble, droplets of her tears falling suddenly. She was trying to hold her emotions back, but something in the way Zayne spoke seemed to have triggered her.

He gathered her into his embrace and he shushed her gently. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”

She shook her head and just cried against him. “I’m sorry… I’m just… I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t force yourself,” he said softly. “You’ve been through a lot. You don’t need to be so harsh on yourself.”

It was tearing him apart inside to see her still so beaten down. He continued in the same soothing tone, “Just breathe.”

Slowly, she managed to compose herself. She stayed in his embrace, her eyes peering down at the sleeping baby in her arms, her breathing nearly stopping now that she fully looked at the newborn she carried.

“He looks like Caleb.”

“He does,” Zayne agreed, and he kissed the top of her head again, his hold on her just a bit tighter.

The baby looked like Caleb and as time passed, the little boy grew up behaving so similarly to the deceased man. She found both joy and heartbreak in this, feeling happy that Caleb continued to live on in this child, but also saddened that it was a reminder of who she had lost.

She supposed she would never let go of these feelings. It would be too heartless if she did.

“Daddy, apple!”

“Alright, alright,” Zayne said with a knowing smile as he carried in his arms the small toddler, the child’s bright demeanor and appearance reminiscent of little cherubs. He set the little boy on the counter as he retrieved an apple and washed it clean. He expertly peeled the skin before he cut the fruit up into small chunks.

“Say ‘ah’,” Zayne spoke as he guided the small chunk into the toddler’s eager mouth. He smiled as the boy clapped his hands together in pure delight at the sweet taste of the fresh fruit. “Is it good?”

The boy nodded excitedly. Once he swallowed, he pointed at his mouth again. “‘nother one, Daddy, pwease?”

Zayne chuckled and leaned down. “Can I have a kiss first?”

Immediately, the toddler pressed a wet kiss to Zayne’s cheek, giggling when Zayne suddenly tickled him. “Da-Daddy!”

Zayne laughed and hugged the child, kissing the top of his head before he composed himself again. “Alright, alright, Daddy won’t tickle you anymore. For now. Say ‘ah’.”

As he fed the toddler little bites, she walked in and stopped, her body leaning against the threshold to the kitchen with a fond smile.

Fatherhood looked good on Zayne. He had taken on the role so seamlessly, never once showing any resentment to the little boy that was not his. If anything, there was so much love and adoration in Zayne’s eyes and the way he cared for the child.

It dawned on her that Zayne had been in her son’s life from the beginning. He had cared for her throughout her pregnancy. He was the one who had spent many sleepless nights with a crying newborn so she could rest. He was there to nurse her son through his first fever.

Zayne was always there, always theirs.

So, when the little boy uttered his first word Dada, it shocked them both. When the child clung to Zayne, falling asleep in his safe embrace, they both realized this life they had come to build together was something beautiful.

They could make this work.

They could be a family of three.

It was going to be beautiful.

It had been several years since she had stepped foot back in Skyhaven, remembering old visits to see Caleb when he was studying here.

Caleb.

She sighed.

It had been a while since she had thought of him, or at the very least, in that way. There were so many things on her mind nowadays. The grief from his death would always stay with her, a throbbing pain that could never be dulled, but as time passed, she learned to live with this heartache. She had a child now—Caleb’s child—and the little boy deserved his mother’s whole attention.

She remade herself whole for her son’s sake, not wanting him to have an empty shell of a person for a mother. She also had Zayne by her side, wanting him to have someone who could love him the way he deserved. There were still so many people in the present needing her, she let herself slipped further away from the ghost of the past.

Around her neck, she still had Caleb’s necklace. It had come to be her comfort object, a charm of sorts to ground her when she was feeling lost in her head or needing some sort of reassurance.

Right now, she needed a lot of reassurances.

The current mission to infiltrate the Farspace Fleet was in jeopardy of being discovered. She had been discreet and blended in well for several weeks now, but one moment of carelessness had now secured her a place in an interrogation room where she was told the new colonel would question her himself.

Nothing, however, could prepare her when the door slid open, and a pair of old, familiar violet eyes stared her down coldly.

Ca-Caleb?

Her heart sped up, pounding against her chest as she stared in disbelief at the man before her.

“Is it really you? Ca—”

“Show some respect to the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel,” he said coldly, the authoritative tone had her frozen in her seat, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of this moment. The man before her was completely identical to her Caleb in both looks and voice, but the way he spoke and carried himself was not like her beloved.

Still, she wondered. Hoped, even.

She steadied her breathing before she questioned him hesitantly. “Sir, have we met before? You seem familiar…”

“You’re wrong.”

“…But you look exactly like someone I know!”

“Watch your mouth,” he said, nearly sneering. Then in a lower voice, he said, “There’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room.”

As this man was about to begin his interrogation, he noticed the necklace around her neck. He touched it, eyeing the pendant with an unreadable expression.

She spoke up, explaining, “…It belonged to someone from my childhood. He died in an explosion. Like the one in the Cascade District. I… I miss him.”

The colonel shifted his gaze to her, but his expression remained icy.

She continued, asking him, “Sir, can you tell me something? If that person hadn’t died, would he support me even now?”

He didn’t answer her directly, and instead redirected the conversation to the current interrogation. After placing a mood tracker on her, he began grilling her with a barrage of questions, his tone firm and unyielding.

Eventually, she managed to pass, the light in the interrogation room brightening and the colonel stepped forward from the shadow.

“You passed,” he said with a satisfied smile.

She felt irate. “You…”

“Surprised?” he asked, his tone much more lighthearted than it was a few minutes ago. He continued with that same teasing tone, “Sure, it’s been a while, but you already forgot about me?

She felt tears in her eyes, her chest tightening with pain. Her voice was shaky, in complete disbelief, as she questioned him hesitantly. “You… it’s you, right? Caleb.”

“Is there another me in the world?” he teased before his expression changed, looking worried. “Did I scare you?”

She immediately leapt to her feet, rushing to him. “It is you!” she cried out, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek, pausing at the last second as if she was afraid that if she tried to touch him, she would feel nothing, breaking whatever illusion she was seeing right now. “Caleb… I must be dreaming.”

He grabbed her hand before she could pull away, guiding it to his cheek as he smiled softly back to her. “It’s me…” he said, adding reassuringly, “It’s okay. I’m back.”

She started sobbing, falling into his arms, feeling his own hold on her tightening. It felt so warm and familiar, like home.

Like Caleb.

Suddenly, all of her heartaches and anguish disappeared.

He was alive. He was here, holding her again just like how he had always done. When he looked down, his gloved hand touched her chin, cradling it gently before he leaned forward, his lips pressing over hers in such a natural way as he had always done.

And she paused, remembering back home in Linkon, another man she had come to love was waiting for her, taking care of her child while she was away and fulfilling the role of father to her son, giving the boy a life he deserved.

She shouldn’t be doing this, but she couldn’t pull herself away. There were so many voices in her head competing for dominance to be heard. Some admonished her relentlessly, tearing her to shreds with cruel, heartless words while others encouraged her to stay, to linger and give in to the temptation of her desires and yearning.

She felt a trickle of tears on her cheek as she hesitantly kissed Caleb back, her heart still bleeding for him, still remembering that he was hers just like he had always been.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, noticing the tears. He brushed them away, his smile soft. “It’s okay, pipsqueak, I know this is a lot to take in and I will explain everything to you.”

She stayed in his warm embrace, cheek pressed close to his chest, and she listened. His heart was beating in his chest. He was standing here, holding her, his words warm and comforting.

Everything was still so surreal, feeling like she had stepped into an alternate reality, her mind still unable to comprehend this moment in time.

If this was just a dream, she wished to stay asleep for just a while longer. For one selfish instance, she wanted to disappear from the world, returning to Caleb and the secret paradise only they would ever know.

But it would never be like before.

In the farthest depths of her heart and mind, she knew it would never be like before.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Caleb looked down at her confused. “Why are you apologizing?”

She looked embarrassed. Quickly, she fibbed, “We had a fight before. I…we never made up.”

It took a while before Caleb remembered, nodding in understanding. “That was a long time ago,” he said, “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

She said nothing as he pulled her back into his orbit, his hold firm and secured, but in her mind, she apologized again. Whatever was brewing in the future was going to affect three childhood friends, and the ominous unknown scared her, knowing no matter how things played out, someone was going to get hurt and none of them would come out unscathed.

I’m sorry, Zayne.

Like a forbidden fruit, she greedily coveted Caleb’s kisses again, tasting sin on her lips as she began to tread down the path to damnation, willfully blinding herself to the destruction that awaited in her future.

[angelwhisp3rs]

✧˚ · . 7 minutes in heaven

Pairing: RE2!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Leon gave his girlfriend the best gift ever - his virginity ❤

Tags: Smut; fluff; p in v; oral (f); loss of virginity; leon is desperate; they are in love your honor

Notes: IM BAAAAAACK! Had to take a week off to focus on my studies, but now im free! Was supposed to post this earlier, but i got lazy!

Minors do not interact!!

After dating for quite a while, it was visible that Leon was a great boyfriend, he was confident in everything he did, he paid attention to the little details and was always surprising her. That’s why, on her birthday, he decided to give her something much more special - his virginity.

At first, it was weird talking about it, he was a grown adult, with a job and everything, and he still had his v-card intact. He was so focused on his career that things like that never really mattered to him. That’s until she came along, and he knew that he wanted to share something so personal with her, and only her.

Setting the mood, he woke her up with a nice bouquet of her favorite flowers and a warm breakfast, the meal eaten while they shared sweet kisses and sweet nothings. He hated that both needed to go to work, the day passing slower in his mind since he was anxious for the night.

When the night fell, both felt giddy - Leon because he was finally getting a taste of sex - something his colleagues always boasted about - and her because the man was making her day so perfect, she had no idea how it could get any better.

At dinner, she noticed him more fidgety, as if he had something on his mind. At first, Leon wanted to play it cool, being a gentleman and serving her for the entire night, but the moment he saw her red inviting dress, his dick decided that he wanted to do the thinking, not his actual head. The slit on her dress showed her soft thighs, and he could only wonder how good they would feel wrapped around his head as he fucked her with his ton-gosh, he needed to focus.

“Baby, you seem worried. Is something the matter?” She quietly asked him, worried that something might have happened.

“No, it's fine, love. Just thinking how pretty you look” he half lied, smiling sincerely at her as he caressed her hand, looking completely smitten by the woman sitting in front of him.

She blushed at his comment, he was always an expert in making her feel so loved.

For now, she chose to drop the matter, just wanting to enjoy the evening with him.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Dinner was amazing, the food was spot on. They walked around a park nearby, enjoying the flowers falling and making the scenery movie-like. They talked and laughed, now filling their hearts after filling their stomach.

As they headed home, Leon felt his heartbeat quickening, but took deep breaths- the night wasn't over yet.

He softly guided her near him, wrapping his arms around her as they shared a deep and passionate kiss, moving his hands all over her body and tightening his grip around her hips.

“Love, want to go to our bedroom? Don't want this night to finish yet” he whispered against her lips, their saliva making everything more wet and intimate.

She looked surprised at him, since she knew from the beginning that he was still a virgin, and was always supportive and patient with the man, never wanting to rush things. The woman nodded, being guided to their room as they still didn't break their hold and deep kisses.

Feeling a rush, Leon pushed her into their bed making her yelp a bit, earning a sorry look from him. God, she was not a ragdoll Leon, stop thinking about porn!

“Baby, we don't need to do this, you know that, right?” She asked him with a smile, watching as he moved to hover her body

“Really want to… I’ll be good to you, baby” he whispered as he pressed kisses to her neck, clumsily pushing her dress up

If it wasn’t such an intimate moment, she would’ve laughed as he tried to push her dress out without even realizing that it had a zipper on the back. Ending his misery, she gently pulled him back and zipped the clothing down, laying on their bed in her black underwear (thank god she decided to wear matching ones today!).

Like a poor and desperate horny boy, the first thing he did was press his face against her tits, wanting to suffocate himself on her chest. She giggled at his eagerness, watching as he mouthed and pressed open mouthed kisses on her cleavage, as his hands kneaded them. 

Not waiting anymore, his hands traveled to her back, reaching her bra clasp. He grunted in dissatisfaction as that task proved to be harder than it looked - god, are those things indestructible? Once again, pitying him, she simply reached back and undid her bra in a swift moment, making Leon look at her dumb founded “How the fuck did you do that?”

“Practice” she giggled “you’ll get to be as good as I am the more you do it”, and then gave him a wink

He chuckled, but turned his focus back to the task at hand, and threw her bra somewhere along their room (he genuinely had no idea where it went). He tried not to be a creep, but he couldn’t help but stare at her boobs for a long time, only breaking the spell when she giggled at his hungry eyes. Her chest on show, his mouth worked directly on her nipples, sucking and wetting awkwardly. The man was just too eager to try to get a taste of her, and the soft feeling of her buds on his tongue made his hips twitch, desperate from any friction.

Even if it was messy, she could only moan and tug his hair in pleasure - even if uncoordinated, his tongue felt so delicious, her cunt gathering arousal quickly. “F-fuck, baby… more” she moaned as her hands didnt leave his blonde locks.

He was completely in ecstasy as he heard her needy voice, nodding as he kissed his way down her body, playing with the lace on her underwear. He softly kissed the fabric and pulled it down, almost ripping it because of how excited he was. He looked at her wet cunt and gaped, as if he was seeing paradise for the first time.Quickly, he fumbled as he removed his shirt, opening his belt and laying on his front, putting her legs on his shoulders.

What now?

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Well, Leon had to think of every porn he has ever watched - not that those were accurate and all, but he could at least mimic the movements. But as he watched her wet cunt throb, everything flew away from his mind, he just craved her, and her taste. Before she could say anything, his face moved forward and he licked her clit wantonly - he wasn't even timid about it, his tongue was firm and sure, making her body arch from the bed, her gentle hands moving down to tug his hair.

“Fuck, Leon!” she whined, sensitive from his eager muscle moving against her bundle of nerves

“Wanna make you feel good, baby… need you to drench my face” he said in muffled words, as he still ate her out, his hands holding her hips and thighs tightly.

The only thing guiding Leon was her reactions at where his tongue passed, her moans getting especially louder when he rolled and sucked the little button above her cunt lips, so he kept his work there. If Leon died now, he would die as a happy man. Her pussy tasted sweeter than his favorite candy, and the wet sounds caused by the suctioning sounded so, so sinful, he just couldn’t stop. 

He was so focused on the sensation that he didn’t even realize when her legs started shaking around him and the grip on his hair grew tighter. “B-baby, G-gonna cum!” she moaned desperately, looking down at him and biting her lips, her cheeks being fully flushed.

“Please, cum on my tongue, need it, need to taste it…” he rambled as he sucked and rolled his tongue viciously, his rough hands holding her hips down, not letting her squirm away from his grasp. 

Soon, she saw fireworks and exploded against his mouth - of course that man made a woman cum on his first time, he was Leon S. Kennedy after all. She laid shaking on the bed, pushing his head away and closing her legs for the moment, as Leon had to lower his pants and underwear, watching her explode almost made him cum in his pants, he needed to feel her now.

He gently parted her legs again, his hands caressing and feeling up her body as he was addicted to the feeling of her skin, as they shared soft kisses. When they felt she was ready, he slowly rubbed his head against her entrance and clit, making both moan - Leon  had to think about very disgusting things, otherwise he would cum like a horny teen and he wouldn’t even be inside her. 

“Are you ready, baby? We can back down if you want to” she assured him once again, caressing his face lovingly as both looked at each other with a shared and intense passion. 

He shook his head, smiling and kissing her forehead “love, I adore when you are sweet, but I need to fuck your brains out or i’ll go insane” he chuckled, and his hand guided just his tip in.

Just the tip, and she swallowed him with vigor, making Leon let out a choked out moan. It was only the head, and yet, he felt his cock throbbing and twitching, he really needed to hold back, otherwise this would end sooner than he would’ve liked.

Slowly, his entire shaft was inside her, and Leon swore he was seeing stars, just like those old cartoons. Holy shit, is that what sex was like? Now he gets it. He should call off work this week and spend with her in bed, fucking and working up his stamina.

“You can move, baby” she whined impatiently. God dammit, woman, mind your tone! If she kept talking to him like that, he would absolutely blow in his first thrust.

He nodded and began moving, and if he wasn’t hitting that gummy spot, she would be laughing, the sight adorable - his face was red as if he was holding his breath, and his mouth was hanging open as he watched his cock slide in and out, getting creamier and creamier with her cunt juices.

Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled the man into a kiss, making his knees buckle and his hips move in a grinding motion, his hair ticking her puffy pussy as their moans were drowned in their kisses. Her nails scratched his back, being enough to create red lines but not really hurt him. 

While both were losing their minds, the only sounds in the room were loud moans, some bed rattling and their skin slapping. His hips - thankfully - met a more pleasurable rhythm, not too fast or slow. Enough to make him feel his cock on her cunt, while she felt her wet pussy molding into his dick.

“Fuuuuck, can’t hold it, can’t hold it” he moaned in almost unintelligible moans, holding their hands together as his hips started to falter and her thighs went more rigid as the pleasure waves flowed through them.

“Come inside, baby, mark me, let it all go” she said aiding him

Soon, like her words casted a spell on him, he filled her up as her walls closed on him, thankfully cuming together. Both laid there regaining their breaths, Leon resting his head right against her heart beat - the best song he has ever heard. She guided him for another gentle kiss, both smiling like idiots in satisfaction.

Leon was a full man now! And he didn't even embarrass himself, knowing he made her come and fucked her properly! He looked at the wall on the nightstand to verify how long he managed to go and… wait, what the fuck? Only seven minutes? No, no, he needed to do better! 

Pulling him away from his paranoia, she looked at him with heart eyes and whispered “That was the best birthday ever. Thank you for making all of this special. it was perfect”

For the first time in the night, he blushed and nuzzled into her neck, whispering back “It really was. Couldn’t imagine doing this without you. Thank you for being so patient and staying”

“Would wait forever if it meant being with you” she simply answered, making his heart soar.

Leon was fine with the seven minutes now, after all, they had a lifetime to make up for it.

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part four

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

When you wake up that following morning, you’re confused for the first few seconds about which room you’re in. This is not the guest room from Lando his apartment. Slowly the morning fussiness inside you clears up. The events from last night come back to you. Lando was screaming and making sounds all night, which caused you to check it out. He had a nightmare. You awoke him. After another stupid remark from Lando, you decided to watch some television with him - in his bed. Did you fall asleep in his bed? Shit. Carefully you look next to you. When you look and notice Lando, who’s still peacefully asleep, you realize that you did fall asleep next to him. 

The part that sits with you the most right now? It feels weirdly comfortable to lay next to Lando in his bed. It scares you. The wise thing to do is to get out of his bed, get back into your own and forget about this situation. Although you already know that Lando will bring it up eventually. You don’t want to leave his warm bed, but you don’t see another option right now. So, carefully you turn yourself around and move away from Lando. It’s only now that you notice how close you were laying to Lando. 

When you get away from the blankets and take your first move to get out of the bed, you’re quick to be stopped. It’s Lando who’s stopping you. He’s quick to grab your arm and to stop you from leaving his bed. “Not yet,” he softly mutters while pulling you back to himself. You notice how much deeper his voice is in the morning. Fuck, his voice is hot like this. Slowly you give in and move yourself back underneath the blankets. You know that this isn’t smart, but you can’t help yourself. Lando is quick to get you into his arms. It feels weird to lay into his arms like this, but in some even weirder way it also feels really nice. Lando wraps his arms around your body. 

You allow yourself to fall back asleep in Lando his arms. This is an one time thing, you keep reminding yourself. This can’t happen again. That means you better enjoy it for how long it lasts. Lando however tries to stay awake this time. When he notices your closed eyes and peaceful  deep breaths, he can only focus on how to get you in his bed again. He needs to experience this more often. Or even better, this should become the new normal. 

Eventually Lando can’t stop himself from falling asleep again as well. Before closing his eyes and giving in, he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. You have turned yourself completely into his body. Lando feels his underwear tighten around his crotch. Feeling your body onto his own like this will probably be an image that he won’t forget about quickly. 

When Lando wakes up again, you have left his bed already. 

+++

“You’re actually insane,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Who in their right mind is going on a date with their ex boyfriend?”

“It’s not a date,” you sigh with the same annoyed tone as Lando was using earlier. 

“Not a date?” Lando asks you sarcastically, he almost laughs at you for the remark. “You’re going to a restaurant to have dinner with your ex boyfriend. Doesn’t that sound like a date to you?”

“Why do you even care,” you ask Lando with a raised voice. The annoyance is obvious in your voice. You know that Lando does have a point, but you can’t tell him that. Right? Earlier today your ex called you. Which seemed weird to you, since the last time you spoke to him was a couple months back during the break up. He told you that he still had some of your stuff which he wanted to give back to you and that he wanted to apologize. You have no idea what stuff he still has of you, but you can only hope that it’s the sweater you have been missing for a while. It was the most logical idea to meet up somewhere. The worst idea was to invite him into Lando his apartment and you also didn’t want to go to his place, so you settled for a restaurant. Exactly like your ex wanted.

“Why shouldn’t I care?” Lando asks you back.

“Because you don’t care about me,” you are quick to slap back. 

Lando can’t stop himself and lets out a loud laugh. It almost scares you. “You’re really stupid,” he tells you while laughing. 

“Great!” You tell angrily. Now he really crossed a line with you. “Stupid, insane, what else do you think of me?” You ask him with the same angry tone in your voice. 

Lando holds back a lot of words right now. It takes a lot from him to not start to scream at you what he actually thinks about you. What a stupid question. It’s not like he thinks that you’re insane and stupid, but he does think that about your idea of going to dinner with your ex. Normally Lando thinks you’re the most beautiful, smart, kind and many positive things more, girl he knows. Although he does think you’re a bit bratty, but in some way that only makes you more attractive in his eyes. He wants nothing more then to fuck all of that brattiness our of you, only for it to come back every time again. That would be the best. 

“Sorry,” Lando sighs with a more calmer tone in his voice then before, “I don’t think you’re stupid and insane, okay? It’s just that I think that this idea is pretty stupid and insane. He’s your ex for a reason, you can’t date him again.”

“You’re not deciding things like that for me,” you tell him angrily. After those words you turn yourself around and start walking towards your own room. You’re really not in the mood to stay with Lando any longer right now. An annoyed groan leaves your throat, it’s not like you think this is a date - although you have no idea how to call it otherwise. And it’s really not like you want to get back with your ex, but you do want to stay civil with him. 

“Don’t walk away,” Lando yells after you. 

“Why not?” You yell back, “So you can insult me even more?”

After those words you slam the door of your bedroom shut with a loud bang. Lando sighs when he hears the door slam. He almost slaps himself. How is it that every time things seems to be going alright between you and him, he finds a way to fuck it up? He thinks about following you and trying to apologize, but eventually it seems a better idea to let you cool down for a bit. 

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for later tonight. You have no idea what to wear and how much time to spend on your make up. Of course, you do want to look nice, but you don’t want your ex to think that you did that for him. This is complicated. Eventually you pick out a dress and put on a light make up look. You still have some time left. Since you’re not in the mood to clash with Lando again, you decide to relax for a bit on your bed and watch some TikTok’s. 

When you do come back in the living room an small hour later, it doesn’t take long before Lando his frustrations comes back up again. He feels himself getting mad all over again. This time it’s caused by the way you’re looking. Why are you dressed this nicely for a date with your ex? He starts to doubt if you do want him back. It sure does seem like it. Lando can’t look away from you. Earlier today he called you insane, but now he’s pretty sure that he’s the insane one. All because of you. You’re making him lose his mind. 

You notice the way Lando is looking at you. The frustration is clearly displayed on his face. Is he still mad? You felt like you were calmed down about it, but seeing Lando staring at you like this makes your frustration come back as well. 

“You look good,” Lando eventually tells you with an annoyed tone. Before you can ask about his tone or thank him for the compliment (?), he’s already talking further. “Too good,” he adds.  You want to ask what he means, but when you see the notification coming up on your phone you decide to let it be. Your ex is already here. 

“I’m leaving,” you tell Lando, “Bye.”

Lando hurries himself after you when you walk away from him again. Quickly he grabs your hand. “Just be careful alright?” He asks you. 

His behavior confuses you. What does he mean with this? It’s just your ex, not some criminal. Or is this still because he thinks you’re stupid? “I wonder if I can,” you bite, “I mean I’m pretty stupid after all.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lando sighs annoyed, “Just call or text me if you need help.” After those words you’re quick to walk away from Lando. Everything about him confuses you. Fuck. Maybe you’re getting insane, Lando makes you lose your mind. 

 +++

This day won’t get any better. Your ex boyfriend did bring your lost sweater, but that’s the only positive thing so far. He’s going on and on about how much he misses you. At first it was kinda sweet, but now it’s just annoying. You didn’t break up with him without a good reason, so you don’t feel tempted to act out on his pleas. Not that he asked about getting back together, but you suspect that the question can come anytime. 

Maybe Lando was right, this is weird. You should have bought a new sweater instead of doing this. He did already send you multiple messages, maybe you should text Lando to help you out of this situation? You almost laugh at your own dumb idea. Lando will probably text back something in the lines of: “I told you so.” He isn’t going to help you with the mess you created yourself.

It’s a shame Max isn’t around. You try to remember why your brother isn’t in Monaco right now, but you don’t remember the reason right now. You do however remember that you really need to meet up with him soon, you haven’t seen him for a bit. 

“Don’t you miss me as well babygirl?” Your ex asks you. His questions shakes you out off your earlier thoughts. No, you don’t miss him. That isn’t the strange thing you’re feeling right now. It’s his last word. Babygirl. He never called you that before. He wasn’t one for nicknames like that. Since when is he calling you babygirl? It feels weird. 

It takes you a short minute before you can say why it feels weird. Normally it’s Lando who calls you babygirl. Shit. Is this really feeling weird because you’re used to Lando? 

“Please don’t call me that,” you politely tell your ex. He gives you a strange look. “Earlier you begged me to give you a cute nickname?” He asks confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “When we were in a relationship.”

His remark reminds you about why you broke up with him the first place. Yes, he was your boyfriend but often it didn’t feel like it. He was always too busy to make time for you. Which wasn’t that bad, until you noticed that he had time for everyone else. The romance just wasn’t there. When you thought about your relationship after the break up, you were quick to realize that it was a more friendly situation then a relationship. 

And maybe, really maybe, your meeting with Lando confused you as well and made the breakup happen sooner. When you first saw Lando, he made you feel something that you never felt around your then-boyfriend. But that will no one ever know.

“But I do want to get back with you in a relationship,” your ex confesses, “I can make more time for you, I can figure out some cute nicknames and we can be together again.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” you carefully reply. Everything he just said, is nothing you want. You don’t want to spend more time with him, get his attention and certainly don’t want to be together again. 

“What do you mean?” Your ex asks you confused, “That’s what you wanted right? More attention, a more loving relationship?”

“Wanted yeah,” you tell him, “I don’t want that anymore.”

“Then what do you want?” He asks you frustrated.

“I don’t know what I want,” you confess, “but I do know that it’s not you, sorry.” 

You tried to tell him so polite as you could, but apparently it made him still angry with you. Fuck. This really was a bad idea. You notice another text from Lando popping up on your screen. Should you text him back? You unlock your phone and read Lando his texts.

Lando Norris: I meant it. Text me if you need me.

Lando Norris: How are things going?

Lando Norris: Babygirl?

Lando Norris: Just tell me if you’re okay

Since when does Lando care this much about you? It makes you shiver, but not in a bad way. That’s not a good sign. You want to reply to his texts, but your ex is already snatching your attention away again. 

“Who are you texting?” He asks you annoyed. Before you can answer, he’s talking further. “Is it your new boyfriend?” He continues to ask. 

“New boyfriend?” You ask confused. Does he think you have a new boyfriend? Why would he even think that. 

“Yeah. Maybe it’s that Lando guy, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

The venomous tone in his voice reminds you about the other reason you broke up with him. The jealousy. It’s crazy now you think about it. On the on hand you were having the feeling that the two of you were barely friends, let alone lovers, but on the other hand your ex was always jealous. You remember multiple fights between the two of you, even one about Lando. You almost laugh if you think about telling your ex who you’re living with right now, but you don’t tell him. You don’t want to fight. 

“I don’t have a new boyfriend,” you tell your ex.

“Then why won’t you want to get back with me?” He asks you angrily. 

You don’t like the angry tone. He has no right to act like this. “I don’t like you like that anymore,” you tell him annoyed, “and I don’t even know if I ever did.” The last part of your sentence wasn’t smart, but you feel yourself getting mad as well. 

“Bitch,” you ex hisses angrily. 

For a few seconds you doubt about your next move should be. Are you going to get into an argument with your ex or are you leaving? His words make you mad, but you know it isn’t smart to get into an argument with him here. Maybe this is the moment to text Lando, he offered to help you right? Maybe he can pick you up? 

“I’m going to pay for my part and then I’m leaving,” you tell your ex eventually, “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about left.” In the mean time you pull out your phone again, you open your chat with Lando and quickly type something. 

y/n: can u come get me? I’m at Amù

You press send, but you have no idea if the text is actually being send. The screen has turned black. Shit, you didn’t even know that your battery was low. What if the text didn’t send? With an annoyed sigh you get up from the table and walk towards the server so you can pay for your part. Then without looking back at your ex, you leave the place. In all irony it’s also starting to rain. What a shitty day. 

Within the second that Lando got your message, he’s in his car. The restaurant you’re at isn’t that far from his place thankfully. He tries to get to you as fast as he can manage. Breaking multiple traffic laws in the mean time. 

“Come on let me take you home,” your ex says angrily. He’s standing outside with you, much to your annoyance. You don’t want him to be here. It’s pouring rain in the mean time. You realize that you must look awful now. Your dress is sticking against your body, your make up is probably ruined. You can only hope that there isn’t anyone around who knows your name or brother. The Instagram posts are already formed in your head. 

“No,” you reply.

“So you’re going to stand here stupidly?” He continues to ask. 

“I’m getting picked up.” At least, you hope so. 

When Lando arrives at the street from the restaurant, he’s quick to spot you. You and your ex. He has never seen the guy before, but he can’t take his time to look at him. He quickly parks his car across the street and jogs to you. When he looks at you, he realizes that you are all soaked. Before he can say anything to you, your ex is talking at you. Lando didn’t expect that your ex would be still here as well.

Lando takes a good look at your ex. He never saw the guy before. It’s been a while since you dated him, but Lando is certain that he never met him. He knows that Max wasn’t a fan of the guy either. 

“See!” The guy says angrily. “Fucking slut,” he continues with a raised voice, “you’re already dating someone else. And even worse, it is him! You lied to me.”

“We’re not dating,” you sigh. 

“Yet,” Lando can’t withhold his remark. “And don’t call her that again.”

You send Lando an annoyed glance. Is he here to help you or to make things worse? Even though, you can’t stop the weird feeling in your stomach after he just said that. Why are his words having such an impact on you? And why is Lando talking about dating you? Could it be possible that he wants to date you? You’re getting confused by what’s happening.

“Are you going to deny that she is a slut?” Your ex asks Lando. 

“Come on babygirl, we’re leaving before I’m going to lose it,” Lando mutters annoyed. He already feels himself getting angry with the guy in front of him. He gives you his hand, which you thankfully grab and wants to take you with him to his car so you can get home. 

“So that’s why I couldn’t call you that,” your ex remarks, “your new boyfriend has dibs on that name.” 

“Not my boyfriend,” you state again. 

Lando almost adds another ‘yet’ again, but this time he holds himself back from doing it. 

“Oh just for the sex then?” Your ex asks, “That does seem more fitting for a slut like you.”

Before you can even say something back, you’re already busy with pulling back Lando. What is going on? Lando has let go of your hand, only to use it to form a fist which can hit your ex boyfriend in his face. Fuck, he did actually punch him. You’re quick to grab Lando his arm and to try to take him with you. 

“Let’s go Lando,” you mutter, “He isn’t worth it.”

“He called you a slut!” Lando almost screams. “Two fucking times.”

“I know,” you sigh, “Let’s leave please.”

Your ex is furious right now. He’s balding his fists as well and seems ready to take revenge on Lando for his earlier punch. When you see the fist of your ex coming at Lando his face, you don’t think about your next action. You quickly pull away Lando, which caused you to stand in front of the upcoming fist from your ex. When you feel it hit your cheek, you let out a gasp from the impact. It’s not a hard punch, but you’re still shocked. 

Lando reacts within seconds. He carefully looks at your cheek, making sure that the impact wasn’t big. Softly he pushes you to the side before he grabs your ex by his neck. “I swear to fucking god,” Lando says with a voice so low it almost sounds dangerous to you, “you better make sure that you’re never close to her again, because the next time I see you too close to her, I’ll fucking end you.” You wonder what he means with that. “I’ll make sure everyone knows what a pathetic loser you are,” Lando continues, “and that you’ll never have a chance with a girl, or with a job or with whatever ever again.” He lets your ex go and watches him quickly walk away. 

“Are you alright babygirl?” Lando asks you worried. He is quick to get you into his arms and to inspect your face again. It doesn’t look to bad thankfully. 

“I think so,” you softly tell Lando. 

“Let’s get you home,” Lando replies, “I have some ice there, hopefully it will stop the swelling.”

When you’re seated next to Lando in his expensive McLaren, you remember your horrible state. You must look like a mess. Your dress is soaked, your make up is running all over your face and even worse, you also feel like a mess. 

“It turns out you were right after all,” you sigh.

“I wish I wasn’t.”

“Sorry that I dragged you into this,” you apologize towards Lando. 

“Rather be sorry that you ever dated someone like him,” Lando replies, “I’m pretty sure there’s someone better around for you.”

“Someone like?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Lando chuckles, “Someone who’s ready to punch another guy for you maybe.”

And again, Lando confused the hell out of you. 

part five

a/n; thanks everyone so much for all the kind reactions so far 🫶🏻 love reading them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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