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

[namism]

🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷

little things | koby

➳ categories: college au, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 3k

➳ summary: It's no surprise when your friends' significant others swing by to drop off snacks and drinks for sustenance as you pull a much needed all-nighter for finals, but while everyone else is being looked after, who's looking after you? Enter Koby, the guy you never expected to care for you.

➳ notes: thanks for the request @mibso! ur like the best koby fan i know 🗣️

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"I... I think I'm gonna be sick."

Usopp tells you that he's on his third Red Bull as a dumb excuse for taking an unhealthy dosage of caffeine in a span of 18 hours because Nami has taken over four energy shots to power through the rest of her materials. She did it for the sake of passing Physics 189, an elective class on atmospheric physics that she stresses on too much because her love for it exceeds the exosphere, but she's starting to tweak (in Gen Z terms) because she has no fucking clue what's going on anymore.

Her head falls on the table of your study room—rightfully booked, not stolen, because your friend group is deferential compared to those study room squatters who don't even do any studying—and immediately, you and Usopp turn toward her in concern, the bags under her eyes being telltale signs of her surrender. It isn't Nami to give up on Physics 189 because she loves it more than anything, probably more than the weatherman in your local news, but in her defense, she hasn't slept in 31—going on 32—hours, and her body is giving into exhaustion despite the energy shots.

You stand from your seat across from her, reaching forward to gently shake her awake, but Nami is down like a snoozing puppy. Usopp groans when he realizes that he's going to need to carry her back to the girls' dormitories, while you thank your beliefs silently that she has finished enough of her materials to pass the exam she has to take the following morning.

"Sucks to be a physics major," Usopp mutters to himself as he pats Nami's head one last time before going back to his devices. He says that pitifully as if he isn't pitiful himself this finals week; he's a fine arts major because he likes being creative, likes putting things together, whether it be digital or traditional works of art, and if that isn't tiring enough, he also minors in engineering for fun (but maybe it isn't so bad because he has actual written exams he can study for instead of submitting a subjectively okay-tasting spaghetti due at 11:59 PM—only Sanji has to worry about that kind of shit in your circle).

Nevertheless, the grind never stops. You train your eyes back to your laptop, regaining your focus as you continue the assignment you've been working on the past hour. Once done, you hurry to the comfort room to take a quick break and arrive back at the study room to continue working.

By the time you arrive, however, more people have entered the small space, visitors from the neighboring rooms on the upper level. It turns out that they've come to visit your friends.

"Oh my god, um, is she okay?" Nami's girlfriend Vivi tries to shake her awake, causing Usopp to tell her softly that he tried to wake her earlier but to no avail. Distressed, Vivi puts down the small container she was holding and embraces Nami from behind, tilting her head toward her girlfriend's sleeping face and trying to talk her into waking up.

Usopp's girlfriend, Kaya, is the next to make her presence known by skipping over to the man, patting his head, and offering a bag of goodies and a PET bottle of lemon iced tea she got from the vending machine a few floors down. She smiles at you, and you reciprocate, not until the doors open to yet another sickly cute couple that makes you want to depressingly barf.

Sabo and Koala appear at the entrance of the study room with Sabo holding the door open for his girlfriend to come inside. She tells the two girls that study break is over, which promptly gets them moving. Vivi tells everyone that she has to bring Nami home, or else she's waking up to a grumpy girlfriend tomorrow morning, while Kaya obediently lets go of Usopp and helps him pack his things. As Sabo and Koala disappear, Usopp shyly apologizes.

"Why apologize?" you ask with a shrug.

"Because!" He gestures to the once-messy table where you, he, and Nami spent the past 15 hours studying. Now that Nami is being carried back to the dorms and he's leaving with Kaya, you'll be left alone with no one to look after you.

You shake your head. "I appreciate the concern, but everyone has to fend for themselves this season. You know the joke, 'Is it finals week or is it my final week?'" The couple bursts out laughing. "So really, you shouldn't be worried about leaving me here. I've survived the past few years in college, so this is easy shit!"

"Well, if you say so," Usopp says with a doubtful tone, but he takes it back because he's just playing with you. When he gets his things packed neatly inside his bag, he helps you and Kaya transfer a snoozing Nami on Vivi's back for a shameless piggyback ride to the dorms.

Once all is settled, your friends shuffle out of the study room, and the place is finally quiet.

Lonely and quiet.

Loneliness creeps up your shoulder as you lean back on the armchair with a sigh. Your chest feels empty, and it becomes more evident the longer you sit in quiet without the sound of Usopp's confused whispers or Nami's silent cusses. You're just alone, without your friends or any lover to bring you food to cheer you on. While everybody else is being looked after, no one is looking after you, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said that it didn't upset you.

There's always that unwanted feeling of jealousy that boils in your stomach whenever your friends and their lovers appear in front of you. They act so sweetly cute toward each other that it makes you yearn for a love as real as theirs, and now that finals season is rolling in, you need someone else's company more than ever. Kind of like aftercare, since college is kicking your ass and beating you into a pulp, so it makes sense to seek comfort. Unfortunately, you aren't graced even with the smallest bit of romantic interaction, so you just sit alone, sad, single, and most importantly, jealous.

As you wallow in silence, your stomach growls, and you realize that you haven't eaten or drunk in a while. You think back to the food Vivi and Kaya brought their lovers, and your heart sinks as another wave of loneliness crashes onto your pitiful single soul.

It feels nice to be loved, doesn't it? You think to yourself in jealousy as you look at the home screen of your cellphone.

"Shit, it's one o'clock?!" Yelling to yourself, you correct your posture on the armchair and shake your head to ward off grogginess. No wonder why Usopp and Kaya decided to leave; Kaya has strict guardians, and she only gets to hang out with a select few because she still has a curfew at her big age. It seems like she's broken that rule tonight, though.

Opening your laptop, you're notified that the battery is low. You roll your eyes as you angrily retrieve the charger from your backpack.

Unfortunately, it isn't there.

You look around your bag frantically, believing the device to be there even though it isn't. As you ransack your bag, tears of anger well in your eyes at the unfortunate event, your patience running thin by the second. You look through every pocket, hole, and nook and cranny, but the charger isn't there. When your laptop screen goes black and the stupid low battery icon flashes in the middle of the screen, your eyebrows automatically knit in fury as your hands clench into a tight fist.

Not only were you left alone, but you also can't find the one device that will get you through the night.

Having had enough, you slam your hands on the table in anger, letting the sound echo in the room and the pain settle on your skin. Fuck this shit. Fuck tonight, actually. You feel so alone and stressed by school, and to top it all off, you can't find your dumb laptop charger that you just want to—

"Ugh! I want to punch someone!"

"Okay, I'll just leave then!"

Your head spins toward the door in surprise. A guy with light pink hair peeks through the small opening like a lost dog, his hands a little shaky and his mouth forming a frown. You recognize him: Koby, one of the guys in your classes, who you got to spend a month-long group project with because the other people in your group weren't helping. Koby is calm and sweet, and you may not be close, but you vibe with him just right.

"Um, did you need something? Sorry for the noise, by the way." You sneak in an apology at the end of your question because you're not sure how Koby feels about witnessing an acquaintance-almost-stranger blare out about wanting to punch someone. Like you said, Koby is calm and sweet—it would be bad to give the poor guy a heart attack.

"I-I was going to ask if I could share the room with you since, w-well, you seem to be alone, and I saw your friends come out earlier—"

"Just come in."

Koby ignores the heavy sigh you let out in fear of ticking you off even more. Entering the room, he doesn't know why you're so stressed since you seemed to be having a good time earlier with your friends. The walls are made of glass, so he's been scouting the area like a hawk to hopefully score a vacant room to spend the rest of the night in. Helmeppo left the study hall hours ago in defeat, so he had to fend for himself alone.

Thankfully, you don't seem to be too bothered by his presence. He doesn't mean to be cocky, but maybe it's because he was a good group mate to you in the past.

Koby settles on Nami's vacant seat across from you, putting his bag down on the chair beside him. You watch him with bored eyes, and Koby swears he feels a chill run down his spine when he realizes that you're eyeing him intensely. Even then, he decides to mind his business and begin setting up his materials on the table.

Koby being Koby, unfortunately, he ends up breaking. "Sorry for the interruption," he says after feeling too embarrassed.

"It's okay. Sorry for staring," you mutter. Koby nods, disregarding your tired tone. Justifiable, he thinks. It's one o'clock in the morning, and everybody in the hall hasn't slept much besides him. He mentally pats himself on the back for deciding to sleep before coming there to study—good job.

Suddenly, he notices you groaning to yourself quietly, like a silent cry for help because you're too embarrassed to ask for it. Koby decides whether or not he should ask, seeing that you were already enraged to begin with, but he decides to just go for it because what could possibly go wrong with just asking?

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You roll your eyes. Koby hopes it wasn't meant for him.

"Yeah, yeah, I am— well, not really. No, I'm not okay. Do you have a Type C charger?"

Koby's lips open in slight shock. He's starting to get scared, like you're a ticking time bomb that can detonate any second now. Even then, he slowly nods and reaches for his backpack again to come and collect the charger you're asking for.

"Here." He pushes the device toward you, and you all but leap across the table to grab it. Koby notices your desperation when you crouch on the ground and plug the charger into the wall socket and hastily get your laptop back up and running. He gulps.

Once the screen lights up, your face brightens. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Uh, you're welcome!" Koby awkwardly replies through a nervous laugh, delighted to see that you aren't angry anymore.

"You're my savior," you tell him. "You don't know just how sad I was today. I mean, my friends are gone, and my laptop just died on me, but I didn't bring a charger and all that shit. Worst of all, I'm literally—"

Your stomach growls.

"Starving," you finish. Koby keeps the same expression on his face, lips quirked up into an awkward smile as he listens to you ramble. You place a hand on your tummy and you rest your head on the table. "Sorry, Koby..."

He's glad to hear his name, though. It's nice to know that you still remember him despite your foggy brain and tired system. Looking into his backpack again, he grabs a small pink eco-bag and pushes it toward you.

You tilt your head up at the noise. The bag is right in front of your face.

"What's this?"

"You said you were hungry, so..." He nods to the bag and almost jumps from his seat when you snatch it with your quick hands. You look inside, then you scatter the contents on the table. Koby motions to the array of snacks: yogurt, milk, chocolate bars, peanuts, coffee-flavored candies, chocolate malted powder, and two bottles of probiotics. Realizing just how much food he had with him, he scratches his nape shyly. "Um, I always have food with me, but you can have these. I think you might need it because you've been here since morning."

You blankly stare at the assortment of snacks in front of you. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your lips form a pout.

Koby notices and assumes that you're staring at the milk.

"Sorry," he says meekly. He's kind of panicked, thinking that he brought the wrong flavor of milk. "Do you hate strawberry?"

"What?" you ask, then later on realize what he's talking about. Oh, poor innocent Koby—he thought you were upset with the milk, but really, you're just moved by his generosity. He's so kind. Do you even deserve this after scaring the guy? "No, I was just, like, thinking to myself, that's all."

"Oh," he says. "What were you thinking of?"

"I'm wondering if you're my guardian angel." His ears perk up and his cheeks start to turn pink. You pick up the strawberry milk he was talking about and inspect it closely. Then, you hold it in front of his face and make a side-by-side comparison. "Your hair and cheeks are pink, just like the milk."

His face flushes even more.

"And now you're blushing harder," you point out. As you observe the snacks on the table, many of what Koby bought seem to be strawberry-flavored, and it warms your heart to think that he seemingly has a natural attraction toward anything pink, like his light fluffy hair (and his seemingly squishable cheeks). It then crosses your mind if his hair is all-natural or if he dyes it regularly because it's the kind of pink that doesn't look real, but at the same time does. Koby catches you staring at him longer than socially acceptable though, so you snap out of your trance to avoid the awkwardness.

"I don't want to assume and waste your study time, but it seems like you're the one all entranced now," he mutters the last part because he realizes that he isn't bold enough to be making such moves on you, so he keeps his head down in embarrassment. When you don't reply, Koby opens his textbook, fixes his specs, and reads.

Your stomach aches another time, so you grab the yogurt and eat it like you haven't eaten in years. One by one, the snacks on the table disappear as you eat in silence, giving yourself a well-deserved break.

Suddenly, it hits you. Loneliness is washed away by a feeling of comfort, and, ugh, it feels so good to feel this way. Truth be told, you're still sad that your single self doesn't have a special romantic support person like your friends do, but even if you never saw Koby in that light, his company almost feels similar to it. Maybe it's the bitter jealous pang in your chest after seeing couple after couple be so lovey-dovey during finals season, but whatever it is, it's eased down a bit because of Koby. The kind guy, Koby. The oh-so-generous guy, Koby. The pink-haired guy who might be a modern-day superhero in secret, Koby. Just how many people has he done this for? Is it just you? How kind is he to share his cute pink bag of snacks because he sensed that you were hungry? What about the charger he probably needs for himself?

As you chew on an energy bar, you realize something.

Since when did Koby look this cute?

"Hey, what are you— are you crying?! Are you okay?!"

You nod your head. You didn't even realize you were crying until Koby looked up from his textbook and pointed it out. You cover your eyes with your arm.

"I'm fine, just, um, ignore me and keep studying! Gosh!"

In panic, he reaches inside his backpack for a fresh pack of tissues. He rises from his seat and walks over to you, offering it.

"Was it the candy? What's wrong?"

You reject the tissues. "No! It's just, like, about you and stuff—"

"Wha— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"No, you got it all wrong! I'm thankful for you, not the other way around." You smile through your dramatic tears. "You're just so sweet to me. You lent me your charger and gave me food when I needed them most."

He blinks slowly.

That's it?

"W-Well, I'm glad that you're... happy... about it... I guess..." he replies questioningly. "Do you still need...?"

"Tissues? No, I'm okay." You wipe your tears with your hands and shake your head. You feel energized. "Thank you, Koby..."

...for being here.

There it goes again: the slight shock on Koby's face has a hint of confusion as he tries to make sense of your actions, but he's more understanding than judgmental given your circumstances. He doesn't know what got you all annoyed in the first place, but if you're okay as you claim to be, then that's good enough for him.

Koby smiles at you genuinely. As he goes back to studying, you make a mental note to befriend him once this is all over.

[yallthemwitches]

“Hi! I just wanted to say I’m absolutely in love with your stories—they’re amazing! If you ever feel inspired, I’d love to see a spicy James/Lily fic with some light bondage (doesn’t matter who ties up who). Just an idea from an obsessed fan!”

Love! ❤️

Thank you so so much! This is very sweet of you to say! As for the spicy fic suggestion:

Short Answer: Yes! I'd love to!

Long Answer: Here it is! (all 4k words of it...whew)

I'm going to add it to my smut prompt collection on AO3, Crash Into Me or you can read it under the cut!

Thanks for the idea! I love getting sent things people would like to read, it gets me out of my own head and forces me to write things I might have put off doing! It was super fun and I'm kinda shocked I haven't done something like this sooner.

Enjoy! (AO3 Link Here)

She’s infuriating him and she knows it. 

What's worse is that it’s exactly what she wants, hoping to break him down until he’s just a little puddle at her feet. All of their Heads’ duties together have started to devolve into this: a silly game they play to see how far they can make it before someone inevitably gets pushed up against a wall or led into an abandoned classroom. He doesn’t really know who wins, but it doesn’t matter. Both of them want the same thing. 

He should have expected it when McGonagall left them both alone in her office after their monthly check-in--as soon as the lock clicks on the door Lily is in action, moving from her seat to stand in front of him with a coy smile.

“Hey you.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, sliding so she faces him on his lap, her thighs pressing against his to dangle on the sides of the chair. 

“What are you up to?” He hums, arching an eyebrow. Even after months of having her this close, he is still amazed that he has the cognitive function to tease her. Her body against his does dangerous things to his mental capacity. 

“Oh, waiting for you to finish so we can patrol,” she murmurs. Her body language says she has absolutely no interest in heads’ work, arms curling around his neck to press soft fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter closed in response, trying to keep composure while his trousers already start to strain. 

It takes all his strength to call her bluff but he forces his eyes back to the schedule. She doubles her efforts, planting slow, languid kisses against his pressure point until she reaches the hollow of his throat and starts the path over again. It’s a clear sign: the game has started. You are my willing participant. 

“Evans–” He doesn’t know when his hand had stilled, but the schedule now bears a jagged black line where his writing had gone slack with distraction. “I can’t focus.”

“Then try to push me off.”

The request isn’t completely out of left field, but it still makes him want to laugh. The first time she had ever asked him to fight back against her, he had laughed, almost crazed when she pouted and writhed against him in persistence. “Why would I ever want to get away from you, Evans?” He had said, “ Most days, I’m fighting to be as close to you as humanly possible.”

They both know that it would take next to nothing for him to remove her from his lap, but that isn’t the point–it isn’t the game. What she is really asking for is the struggle, the power play that in earlier years came in the form of verbal dueling, but is now distilled into physical touch. 

He puts down the quill slowly, mulling over all possible scenarios this might go. They didn’t know how long McGonagall would be gone, nor did they have the time seeing as their patrol started in five minutes, but that was the big issue wasn’t it: he didn’t care--and apparently neither did she.

“You realize all I need to do is stand up and you lose, right?” He says, an arm wrapping around her waist under the guise of being ready to tug. Instead it pulls her closer. Her eyes blink up at him, decidedly wicked in nature. She lifts back up to place a soft, contemplative kiss on his lips. 

“You’re right—too easy,” she concedes, giving him a deeper kiss this time. “New objective then: If I make it to the door we have to do patrols, but if you can stop me in time…”

She doesn’t even need to say what the stakes are, the answer already hangs heavy like fog in the room. Then you can shag me, right here. Right in McGonnagall’s bloody office. 

Now that was a game he was dying to win. 

It makes him lose his head, eyes too busy scanning the room for all the many ways and places he can take her, that by the time she says ‘ go’ he is already frighteningly hard for her.  

She jumps off his lap, taking small, timid steps towards the back of the room, turning each time to shoot him a smile. He could get up and pull her back right now without even taking more than a large step but he knows that’s not what she wants. She wants him to actually play along, to make it interesting for her. 

So he waits, leaning back in his seat and ignoring the ache that comes from just the anticipation of the inevitable–because it was inevitable. He was going to have her whether he won or not. 

He watches her with a smug smile until she’s made it a couple of meters to the door before standing up, walking at a deliberately slow pace like an animal in hunt. His approach ignites something in her and a bubble of laughter escapes, a beautiful, frantic noise that holds as much joy in it as desire. Her energy surges and she catches speed, only needing to cross a meter to touch the wood of the door…

Her fingers barely reach out for the finish line when he wraps an arm around her waist and spins her against the wall directly beside the door. An impatience takes over and his mouth is on hers, tongue demanding entrance while his hands move rabid downwards to hitch under her skirt. 

Meanwhile, she continues to laugh, shrieking and pushing at him to move just centimeters to the right to where the grain of the door frame begins, but her squirming just makes it easier for him to part her legs and slot himself against her, pressing her firm against stone. 

“No fair!” She squeals between peals of laughter. She continues to giggle and wiggle against him until his hand finds the band of her knickers. Her attempts to push past him falter, moans taking over and filling the room with their deep, velvet sound. 

“C’mon Evans,” he breathes into her ear, “You’re so close. Try to win.” 

She gives a lackluster push to his chest and he catches both her hands in one of his own, lifting them above her head. His brain is swimming, all thought in a freefall with only one end in sight. 

“Baby—” Her eyes close, back arching so her bottom half presses closer into the stilled hand just above her pelvic bone. “ Please.”

“You have to say it, Evans,” he says. The grip on her hands tightens and she interlaces her fingers. “Tell me what you want, please. I need to hear it.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“How?”

It makes her writhe, her impatience starting to seep in. Her hips buck underneath him and it zaps pleasure straight into his erection, making it nearly unbearable to not just grind back into her. 

“With your fingers, tongue, cock. All of it. James— please.”

They are words that will haunt him forever. 

He gives her at least one of the things she asked for and drops his fingers between her legs, finding the fabric there sticky and thick. 

“Merlin, Lily. You’re soaked,” he gasps, fingers sliding under to drift through her folds. It makes him dizzy how easy he slips inside, hand practically dripping already just from contact. 

“Were you wet like this in our meeting?”

“Since before even,” she gasps, hips rolling into the palm of his hand. “But the way you looked just now, right before you got me against the wall. Jesus, Potter. You looked like you wanted to devour me.”

He slides another finger in and her head bends forward, leaning against his chest. Her breath is hot against his shirt and makes the white become transparent against his skin. 

“I want to devour you–,” he corrects, “--present tense.” 

She pulls back and her eyes burn at him, almost resembling the cross expression she would wear when they used to row. He twists his fingers and her eyes flutter, her bottom lip disappearing against white teeth. 

“Go on then, do it.”

He enters some sort of fugue state, pulling his soaked hand out of her and clawing at her skirt until it becomes a pool at their feet. His teeth find the knot in her tie and yank it loose, trailing her own wetness through her blouse to fiddle with the buttons. 

She follows suit, releasing her hands from above her head to untuck his shirt, breathing heavily against him when she cups him through his pants to unbutton his trousers. Her touch knocks him back into reality and his hips instinctually grind to get closer to her touch. 

“I want to lick you against this wall,” he tells her, voice low and rough. Underneath her palm his cock aches, clenching all the muscles in his body like it’s ready to go into shock unless he gets to her now. “I want to get you so close to coming with my mouth that you are dripping down your leg. I want to carry you back to Mcgonagall's desk and take you right on top of those bloody schedules. I want to watch your tits bounce from my cock pumping inside you. Fuck, I want— I need– to hear you scream my name.”

He drops to his knees in the pool of their collective clothing, placing a hand against the flat plane of her stomach until she is flush with the wall. Her hands grab for his hair, tugging him forwards while her body arches to meet him and he grabs hold of a thigh to drape over his shoulder, opening her up further. She’s so wet between her legs the fabric of her knickers are discolored. Her center is a deep pool of green surrounded by a sheen painted to her thighs. 

“I want that too. Do whatever you want. You won.”

It’s enough to make him short circuit.

He’s shocked at his restraint, mouth and cock literally watering at the view of her. But as much as he wants to bite her knickers away and press his tongue inside her, he wants to hear her say it more. 

“Tell me again.”

She lets out a frustrated gasp as he stalls, pulling his head back enough to make eye contact with her. Gazing down at him she looks utterly crazed, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.He wants to remember it forever.

When she doesn’t respond, he hooks a finger around the inside of her knickers, the contact with her center making her mewl with pleasure. He pulls back the fabric and his mouth drops open. It’s not the first time he has looked at her like this but to see her swollen and yearning and dripping like that? It’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Tell me.” He prods, holding her knickers against her thigh. 

“You git, you just want me to beg,” she says, her face contorting into a frown. 

It wasn’t what he was fishing for, but now it’s all he wanted. 

“Yes– oh fuck– yes.”

She tries again to arch her body towards his face, but the hand on her stomach keeps her against the wall, giving no other choice. 

“Touch me, Potter,” she cries, exasperated. He’s got her to the breaking point, that sweet spot where her desire and her anger are too overlapped to be distinguishable. At the beginning of their relationship it was the only sensation she had for him, unable to disconnect their years of annoyance with how much she wanted him. It only made him want her more. 

“Let me come on your tongue, then—christ— then hold me down and fuck me. Fuck me until I don’t even know where I am anymore. Fuck me until I can’t even think—”

“Shit, yes.”

He surges upwards and she lets out a gasp of satisfaction. Her body melts under his tongue, head falling back against the stone wall and fingers pressing him closer into her as he begins his ministrations. The sounds begin falling from her lips and he knows how to keep them coming, having spent one glorious afternoon months ago taking turns going down on the other, coaching on what pressure to give where and what spot makes them unravel almost immediately. 

His tongue paints against her, slipping easily through her folds and dipping inside until her hand shakes against his skull. The noises make way for words, an endless string of them that shoot from his eardrums right to the center of his cock, getting him so close without even being touched. 

“James, baby. I can’t stand how fit you look, how bloody good you make me feel,” she says, giving a shallow moan when he gasps right into her. “I have no idea what McGonagall was saying in that meeting–I couldn’t stop imagining you bending me over that desk. That’s all I can think about these days. In class, at meetings, touching myself at night. Just sitting in the same room as you makes me wet— fuck.”

Fuck is right. Her words make him press farther, edging on aggressive. To say he wanted to devour her was right too. He wants every last drop of her.

She’s close, her body giving the telltale quivers that mean she is just at the edge. He slows, giving long pressured strokes that have always made her unravel. 

“James—holy fuck —James.”

Her body shakes and under his mouth he can feel her contract. He continues his path, carrying her through it until the overstimulation makes her yank back at the roots of his hair. Spent, she slides against the wall to the ground, her legs jutted out in opposite directions and head tilted back. 

“Jesus Christ, Potter,” she pants, catching her breath. Her hair frames her face like a halo, eyes open. Some of the frenzy has lessened but the burning in her irises remains. Her tongue flicks out and licks at the bottom of her lip, unhinging part of his nervous system. 

“You are so lovely—so unbelievable,” he says, caressing her ankle which had shifted onto his lap. She closes her eyes at his touch, shaking her head against the wall for a moment before picking herself up and leaning inwards to fall cradled into his arms. 

“We still have patrols to do—” she whispers into his chest. A finger outlines the contours of his muscles, dragging down to his stomach. “--but I still want you…if you still want to—”

The finger descends, finding him still very much throbbing for her under his pants. They both moan at the contact, his arms encircling and finding her bum to press her fully onto his lap. 

“If I still want to what?” He whispers, pulling her legs to wrap around him. He’s already heard her say it once, but he wants the reminder, wants to hear it as many times as he can coax out of her until she makes him implode. 

“I want you to tie me up and fuck me on the desk.”

All of his cognitive function ceases to exist. 

“What?” His tone must have been of utter shock because she immediately flushes red, lowering her face away from him. 

“No, look at me Evans–Lily. Seriously. I just…I just need you to say it again to make sure I am absolutely certain I heard you correctly because, holy shit—”

A thousand images swirl into his mind. They had done some wild things in the past–certainly led a more exploratory sex life than most of the other couples around–but never before something so outright kinky as that. Sure, they loved a good semi-public touching or stray finger from behind when the moment struck, but this. This request opened a whole new door for them and she wanted it. 

Frankly, he could come right then and there, just by the thought of it. No further actions needed. 

She lets out a little squeak, hands balling at the base of his neck. He can feel her heart beating out of her ribcage against him and he places a soft kiss on her lips, encouraging her to continue. 

“I just…I liked it earlier when you held my hands above me on the wall.”

Yes, yes, yes. Oh Merlin, fuck yes. 

“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” he says quickly, his enthusiasm taking control. “You need to lead the way though because– fuck— I want whatever you want so badly, but I also don’t want to go too far.”

She does something unexpected and laughs, her body shaking against his. “James I don’t think you’re capable of–”

“No, I mean it,” he says, voice cracking. “It’s one thing when we are just pushing each other and having a laugh—I know those limits. But something like–” he voice cuts off, brain flooding with all sorts of visuals of her held down, screaming his name, “--like that. I don’t trust myself. You need to walk me through it.”

She presses her lips to the hollow of his collar bone, hot breath billowing against him. His mind can’t stop racing, his heart like a canon shooting off endlessly in his ribcage. 

“Well, then. I guess for starters, you should get me on the table.”

He can feel her amused smile against him, but he doesn’t care. She can tease him for taking it seriously all she wants, but he wants this to be done right. 

Carrying her over to the table would have been a lot easier if it wasn’t for the way her entrance pressed right into him. The mixture of her wetness and his saliva seeping right into his pants and making his cock ache in agony. 

“I’m telling you now Evans. I’m going to last five seconds—real amateur hour. Just the thought of you tied up…I don’t know what it’s doing to my brain but I’m fucked. I’m going to be a fucking mess. ”

He lays her down on the table, pushing aside his quill but otherwise not caring about the parchments of scheduling lying under her. She stretches out like a cat, legs slightly bent but her hands going over her head, making her breasts jut out. 

Godric help me.  

He lowers himself over her, pressing his cock into her hip bone and waving forward to release some of the tension that has been building up. She gasps, her arms stretching higher until she intertwines her fingers again like she did on the wall. He kisses her, letting his tongue lap into her slowly so she can taste the lingering wetness of her climax coated to his lips. 

“Use a tie.”

 When she pants it into his mouth, his whole body reacts—a frantic jerk forward that creaks the wood of the table. 

“Fuck Evans— you are a dream come true. You are everything.” He pulls at the tie that flaps helpless around her neck alongside her opened blouse and it flutters in his hand. Surely this will ruin uniforms for him forever. He won’t be able look at a Hogwarts tie without thinking about her naked body flushed underneath him on the desk. He will have to start practicing his illusion charms, otherwise he’ll be cursed with an erection during school hours for the rest of his life. 

He looks at her for approval and she stares up at him with unbridled anticipation, irises glittering with excitement. Pulling the tie around her wrists, he makes a hesitant knot and attempts to tug her hands away from each other, testing to make sure it’s tight enough to hold but not digging in. 

“I know I’m absolutely inflating your ego, but it’s just unfair how fit you look without a shirt,” she says under him. “Like, Jesus. If this goes well I want to tie you up next and kiss every inch of you.” 

“Fuck, Promise?” He doesn’t realize he has said it out loud until her laugh echoes around the room. The shake of the table now doing dangerous things to his leaking cock. 

“One thing at a time, Potter,” she says, pulling up to give him a kiss. “I need you to fuck me now…and judging from the look of your pants, you really need that too.”

He doesn’t need to hear it twice. Pulling off the table, he shucks his pants off without looking, eyes unable to tear away from the absolute feast of the senses laying against the table with tits and hips arched upwards and ready.

With no hesitation, he crawls up on the table until he is level with her, his cock dragging slowly up her thigh. 

“Again, Lily. I’ll apologize now. You are just so so lovely. I can’t believe you even let me touch you much less tie you up and—”

“For chrissake James. Stop talking and shag me.”

It’s the best thing she’s ever said to him. 

His cock slides into her easily and her walls immediately contract around him. They both gasp in tandem, her body practically levitating off the table from how much she arches. The pebble of her tits brush against his chest and he dips down to take one in his mouth, not removing a hand from where her hands are bound above her head. 

It’s like going back in time. The slow gentle rock of his hips testing out the waters to make sure she is ok before going any deeper. He pulls back to watch his cock slip in and out, unable to keep his focus there or where her upper body writhes helpless, wanting to do its usual ministrations of carding through his hair or clawing at his back but unable to do so. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants as his thrusts speed up. The new movement rocks the desk and her tits bounce with it, beautiful and round and poised just for him. Her eyes don’t leave his, watching him with a glazed over expression as her mouth hangs wide, giving him instructions and praises in the same breath. 

“ Harder—faster—yes, like that. Christ, James. Thank you—fuck.”

He’s embarrassingly close already. Unbearably so. But what she demands he gives, speeding up his movements, snapping his hips harder until the table groans and starts to splinter. If they have to get McGonagall a new desk, it’s worth it. Everything is worth it to see her like this.

The pressure mounts and he can feel the end drawing near. When he says as much, her eyes open wide, frantic once again with an epiphany.

“Turn me over. Turn me over and fuck me off the side. Fuck, James. Please.”

He swears quietly, a low droning shit as he hooks an arm around her waist and flips her onto her stomach. It takes everything in him to pull out of her so they can resituate, but immediately it becomes worth his while. She slides herself almost off the edge, lifting herself onto her knees so her bum stands into the air while her chest and bound arms lay rested against the tabletop.

The sight alone is indescribable, immediately burned into his memory to be revisited later, but it’s her stare that really does him in. Turning her head against the surface of the table, she stares up at him, the green of her irises reduced to a smoldering emerald. It’s the look of absolute pleading— how could he possibly last from a look like that?

Shaking, he stands behind her, taking in the view down the slope of her back to where the tie keeps her bound. She watches him, tracking his stare with a smile tugging at her lips.

“Nice view?”

It’s a laughable question. “Evans, you have no fucking clue.”

He bends down and gives one solid lick from her bum to her clit and it rewards him with a sharp squeal.

“Holy fuck, no fair!”

Always still a game. A game he hopes they never stop playing.

When he finally pushes in, the angle makes all the difference, hitting deeper into her than he was capable of with her just laying on the table. Unlike before, he doesn’t give any sort of gentle preamble to his movements, thrusting quick and deep inside her like she asked for. The sound of his hips snapping reverberates around the room and the wetness between her legs drips out against her thighs, easily visible now as the backdrop to his cock working inside her.

The pressure that was mounting before accelerates quickly and he thanks Godric he can feel her close too.

“I’m so close, Lily—I want you to come–no– need you to come. I want to feel you squeeze my cock like this.” 

She looks like every fantasy he has ever had mixed into one image. Hair wild against her back, mouth open and panting, eyes— merlin her eyes— still watching him as he all but pounds into her. 

“Come for me then, baby. I’ll come too, I promise. I want to feel you come inside me. Fuck, James. Let me feel—”

Like always, her words are what throws him over the edge. He shudders into a release, keeling over her backside and panting a string of swears as he empties into her. Through his climax, he feels her walls tighten around him and she comes too, hard and swift, with her lips pressing his name into the grain of the table. 

When the fog finally lifts, he isn’t sure how long he remained inside her, but he pulls back, quickly scrambling for the tie. 

“Are you alright? Was that too–”

But the second she has control of her hands again, she turns and pulls him against her, hands roaming as though making up for lost time held away. She presses their lips together, hungry but in a different way from the carnal act they just did. Hungry to show adoration. 

“It was perfect. You are perfect,” she says into his mouth, hands finally carding through his hair. “You’re going to be the death of me really. I want to do everything with you.”

Everything? Everything sounds amazing. 

“Should we start now?” Love rushes over him like a warm breeze, wanting to just hold her and caress every part of her body until he is hard again to do exactly what ‘everything’ entails. She just laughs, pushing away from him and padding over to her wand to clean up the messes between their legs. 

“We can’t just hole up here and—”

“Of course we can,” he cuts her off with a grin, “Need I remind you, you made a lot of promises today that need to be fulfilled. Ones that I am ready to collect at your convenience.”

She laughs again, playfully throwing his clothes at his chest. He should be joking, but he has never been more serious in his life. McGonagall and Heads’ duties be damned. If it was up to him they would never leave this room. 

“We have patrols to finish—-ones we never even started,” she hums, tugging up her skirt. He pouts and she crosses over to kiss it away. She gives one, then another, then he’s dropped his clothes back on the floor to pull her in closer again.

“You’re impossible,” she pants, coming up for air. “We’ve been here too long. If McGonagall decides to come back, we are in serious shit.” But she doesn’t pull away, tongue already tracing against his lower lip.

“Stop, we need to get going…” 

Her hips jut forward and finding him already hardening again she smiles, pressing her lips to his jaw. Eventually she pushes away, but the look in her eyes still stands. A game already on the horizon. 

“I'll make it worth while--we'll keep your tie handy.”

[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. 

[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."

[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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[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.

[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!

[simpsdept]

Velvette x female model reader smut

“Good Job Doll~”

A/n: damn yall like these writing huh? Well I ain’t stopping you lol! I hope this was alright!

(Requested by: egg boi on AO3)

Warning: mean/soft velvette, bottom reader, fingering, rough sex, voice kink, hair tugging(light), cussing, touching bodies sexually without permission, praise kink, soft sex, eating someone out, gay sex

You were a model for velvette. Just a girl trying to make some cash, well you thought. It turns out your velvettes ‘favorite’ model. She’s always making excuses and firing her other models so your her main focus. At first you honestly thought it was just a friendship thing, but you slowly started to realize it wasn’t, it was more….sexual.

It started off with simple touches and praises, playing with your hair or touching your curves playfully, then it got more demanding. And her words sounded more sexual and suggestive. You didn’t mind it though, you kinda enjoyed the attention from the young overlord, she never failed to make you blush.

One day she came into the dressing room with you and handed you an outfit. “Try this on please darling, I need to see how absolutely stunning you’ll look in it.” She flirted lightly. She handed you a short dress that had her signature colors.

“Yes ma’am.” You obey your boss. You strip off your clothes, getting undressed in front of her was normal for all the models. Velvette was scanning and looking at every inch of your body secretly as you put the short dress on.

She walked over to you and smirked. “Oh it looks gorgeous! We have to take a picture” she said and pulled out her phone for a selfie, wrapping her arm around your waist tightly, making you blush. She takes the picture and giggled a little. “Oh you look so adorable in this picture!”

“Thank you..” you say sheepishly. She seemed to notice your nervousness and smirked.

“Oh come now dear, your gorgeous. In fact. I can show you how gorgeous you truly are~” she said seductively as she traced your breasts. You couldn’t help but blush, even if this was normal. Before you could speak up she grabbed your hips and forced you onto the vanity.

“What are you doing?” You ask Velvette, blushing intensely.

“Giving you an award for your hard work dear~” she said seductively, her accent felt so nice to hear with that tone..you didn’t try to get away or anything..you stayed there, you couldn’t help but admit you wanted it..and velvette noticed.

“Oh? You’re a good girl aren’t you? Allowing your hot, stunning boss to award you~?” Velvette smirked and started to grope your breast, causing you to let out a soft gasp in pleasure. “There we go..” Velvette smirked, and didn’t hold back. She started to kiss you hungrily, she’s been waiting for this moment for so long, and she finally had you at her mercy.

You moan and kiss back, carefully caressing her face as she did so. Velvette’s tongue forcefully entered your mouth and you moaned and closed your eyes, your tongues swirling and intertwining together. She pulled away, strands of saliva connecting your lips, and looked at your body more.

You pant at the kiss, trying to catch your breath but she started to kiss you again more tough, causing you to tug and keep a tight grasp on her hair and whimper. She chuckled lightly at the whimper, loving the soft noises you made.

She moved fast, pushing you all the way up to the vanity mirror with how much force she was using to kiss you, eventually open mouth kissing, your tongues still mixing together. She finally pulled away, allowing you to catch your breath, but not for long. She immediately got on her knees and put her head under the dress she made you put on earlier. You blush and spoke up. “U-uh what are you doing..?”

“Oh don’t worry dear..I’m just treating you with your reward..it won’t hurt..that much.” She looked up at you one last time and then went back under your dress..pulling your panties off. You blush out of embarrassment and arousal, as Velvette chuckles at your already fully aroused pussy. “Oh such a good girl..so ready for me…”

She kissed your thighs and trialed up them to your throbbing and needy cunt, you let out a whiny and needy moan, hands threatening to grasp her hair again. “Please Velvette..”. You beg.

“Call me ma’am.” She demanded before she could continue, she wanted you to still call her ma’am, it did make her feel more in control.

“Please ma’am..please..” you beg again, leaning your head against the vanity’s mirror.

“Please what?” She looked up from under the dress, smirking, she lived playing with you..she found it amusing.

“Please let me cum..please” you begged whiningly. That was enough to satisfy Velvette, as she planted her skilled mouth onto your wet and ready pussy. You let out a gasp and arch your back and hips off the vanity, hands clinging onto the vanity’s edge, you moan and forced your hips into her face more.

She moaned against your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar, it sent vibrations through you that made you shiver and moan. She used one of her hands to push your legs apart more, and the other was teasing your soaked entrance. You were left begging and pleading for her to enter you.

You gasp as she thrusted three fingers in at first into your tight little pussy. She was desperate. She has been wanting to do this for a long time to you. She thrusted in and out more roughly, but not enough to cause severe pain. You let out quiet cry’s and yelps, your eyes rolling back as she found your g-spot and hit it repeatedly with her skilled fingers. “In so close…” you whispered and panted softly.

“That’s it..be a good girl and cum for me..” veovette said, thrusting her fingers rougher and rougher. You let out a longer cry as you cum onto her fingers. She quickly licked the white liquid off of herself, and then placed her mouth on your entrance, milking out every last drop of cum. You pant. Your body quivering out of ecstasy. You opened your cloudy eyes and looked down at her. She stands up and licks her slightly cum covered face, then smirked back at you.

“Good job, doll~”

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 5 || The Date

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & heavy sexual tension. You might feel edged by the end of this chapter. !!Geto is a complete pervert btw!!

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——INSIDE THE LAVISH RESTAURANT that Geto Suguru assures you isn't as expensive as it seems, the two of you are escorted to an awfully private booth.

It's off in the corner, away from everyone else within the restaurant as specifically requested by your date. Your surroundings are dimly lit, with a romantic ambiance that sets the perfect mood for the evening.

Geto pulls your chair out for you and you sit, briefly thanking him for the small gesture as you do so. For a second, as he pushes your chair in and makes his way to the other side of the table, you wonder if you'll have to go on dates like this with the other men you meet. If Geto is considered medium difficulty according to Gojo, what'll happen when you reach someone who's at a higher difficulty level?

Will you have to win a fraction of their heart to sleep with them? Will you have to date them? Shit, you don't want to toy with anyone's emotions. You really hope you'll be able to pull this all off.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice Geto's eyes all over you. He's thinking too, wondering how he should go about messing with you. The man is just as amused as Gojo was with the little challenge you've been given.

Geto wonders if he should drag this out. Maybe a few days, y'know, force you to get to know him more and more. Problem is, even as he looks at you now, he knows damn well that's not going to happen. He wonders if you even realize the effect you have on others without doing anything.

When you first entered the restaurant, Geto noticed that the host had his eyes all over you. The man has been gawking at you as you and Geto were led off to your table but you didn't notice.

A little smirk plays on Geto's lips as he admires you. You're now pretending to look over the menu but he can tell you're still panicking from his earlier words. His eyes dip down to the exposed areas of your skin and he scoffs. If you were his girlfriend, the two of you wouldn't have even made it to the elevator.

Surly he would've turned you right back around and had his way with you without a care in the world for reservations. The male's focus goes to your lips, studying the slight pout you make while you think every now and then.

Like earlier, his mind drifts into places they shouldn't. Your lips look so soft, so delicate, so... kissable. He wonders how the inside of your mouth feels.

How good are you with your tongue? Fuck, the thought alone makes his hips lift as he shifts around in his seat. He needs to stop thinking about you like this. He needs a distraction so he tries to look down at the menu on the table in front of him.

That doesn't work either. Geto isn't craving anything on this damn menu. The very thing he wants to feast on is sitting across the table from him. His eyes flick up to you and instead of looking at your face, he looks at your cleavage-- mentally cursing at himself for his perverted thoughts and glances.

God, even looking at you is torture.

"Suguru," You suddenly call out.

The man flinches at the sound of his name and frantically redirects his gaze upward. "Hm?" He hums in response.

"Y'know I can feel you staring at me, right?" You say to him teasingly.

Truth be told, you've been calming yourself this whole time. Gojo told you Geto was of medium difficulty and if you're interpreting this correctly then, that means you've already got the man attracted to you, all that's left for you to do is to get him to warm up to you. You have to attempt to treat Geto like you know he's going to sleep with you because-- well, you do know.

With the way he was touching you, talking to you, and looking at you now, you could tell you had this in the bag. It just took a few minutes of you gathering yourself before you worked up the confidence to say something to him.

"So?" Geto asks, feeling tense to the way you've noticed his ogling.

You flip the menu up so that his view is obstructed, "So, it's rude to stare. Especially at my tits... pervert." You reply, though, you're words were harmless and he could tell you were teasing him.

Geto suddenly choked on air, "What'd you just call me?"

"A perv." You say cooly.

Due to the menu held up between the two of you, neither of you saw each other's expressions. You've got a cheeky grin on your face, thinking you've managed to fluster him while a slow smirk spreads across Geto's lips.

"A perv?" He repeats, followed by a cocky scoff. Geto's mouth moves on its own and he doesn't even know what came over him as he speaks.

"Darling, if I was a pervert I would've had you in this restaurant with no panties on while explaining the eight different positions I've fantasized fucking you in." He blurts out in a shockingly low tone before leaning over the table a little, "I'd have you on your knees begging for me to touch you right now."

Heat rushes to both your face and in between your legs, causing you to rub your thighs together slightly. Your grip on the menu slips a little but you try to keep your composure.

Dropping your voice to a whisper, you drop the item in your hand and meet the man's all-too-serious gaze. You mimic his motions and lean forward a bit too, "You do realize we're in public... right? Anyone could've heard you just now..."

Geto flashes you a sexy smile, "Keep teasin' me and everyone will hear you moaning my name in a second."

You scoff, waves of confidence shooting through you out of nowhere. "Yeah? What're you gonna do, fuck me over the table?" You whisper-shout to him.

"I might." He hums.

The look in your eyes is full of disbelief. "You wouldn't."

"I would, actually."

"Do it then." You utter challengingly, knowing damn well he doesn't have the balls to actually-

He chuckles deeply, leaning back in his chair and parting his thighs. You notice him shift in his seat, hips once again raising as he moves. "Come bend over in front of me and see what happens." Geto challenges back.

The sexual tension between you and him is at a ridiculous all-time high. You stare at him and he stares back at you.

After a few seconds, Geto clicks his tongue and tips his head to the side, "Well?"

You roll your eyes at him and sit back in your seat, "Never mind."

"That's what the hell I thought." He says confidently, "You'll never be able to win that kinda' contest against me, sweets. I'm a man of my word."

"Seeing as I'm not getting fucked over this table right now, I'm pretty sure that was all just a bluff." You reply. You're still not sure where all this confidence of yours is coming from but the man across the table from you is dangerously attracted to it so, you're trying to drag this out.

"I told you to bend over, you told me never mind." He shrugs.

"Maybe I wanted you to bend me over." You say with emphasis in your voice.

He stares blankly for a minute. Then he laughs, "You... You think I won't do it."

"No, I know you won't-"

Geto pushes his chair back and stands to his feet.

You're throat immediately runs dry. Is it too late to say that maybe you should've shut up a while ago...?

He walks around the table to you and suddenly pulls your chair out. "Y-You're not seriously gonna-"

"Stand up." Geto cuts off.

You peer up at the man, eyes full of worry. Slowly, you raise to your feet and your face comes close with his. Quickly glancing past him, you spot the waitress for your table helping a group of people not too far away. You're pretty sure she's gonna head this way once she's done so your mouth opens to back out of whatever Geto's about to do.

"Suguru, I-"

"Aht aht, none of that. You shouldn't have started this." He interrupts. Geto then moves a hand behind you and your heart sinks to your toes. Again, the table you're at is quite secluded so the only thing others would be able to see currently is Geto standing in front of you.

You flinch when he suddenly grabs a handful of your ass, your eyes frantically switching back and forth between him and the waitress who's set to approach the two of you any minute now. Geto pulls your body up against his and your hands rest on his chest due to the aggressive tug of your body.

You don't even know what to say at first as you feel the male hike up the back of your dress and slip your underwear down off you. "A-Are you fucking crazy?" You whisper shout to him with furrowed brows.

"You're about to find out." He hums simply.

Your undergarment now pools around your ankle and Geto is quick to drop down and work them completely off you. You shift around to pull your dress down, making sure you don't look crazy. The pounding of your heart was so loud that you could feel it in your ears and you're confused and thankful that no one has or can witness what just happened.

Looking up at you, Geto smiles as he wraps his fingers around the fabric in his hands. Then, he shoves the item into his pocket and stands back up. "You can sit now, I don't plan on giving everyone here a show just yet."

You grit your teeth. You're so embarrassed that you don't think you can move. Did you really just let him do that to you? Why? Because it was kinda thrilling and you wanted to see how far he'd really go? Maybe...

"Yet?" You repeat as you finally sit down, feeling exposed for a second before you cross your legs.

Geto casually walks back to his seat and sits as though nothing happened. "I meant what I said."

This time you don't argue with him-- you truly don't know what he'll do next.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

With perfect timing, the waitress approaches your table and takes your orders. You took a second to even remember what the hell you had your eyes on but you figured it out after relooking over the menu. Your heart is still throbbing against your chest and you still can believe no one saw anything that just happened.

You know the table is pretty secluded but you expected someone to see something. Geto knew what he was doing though. Hell, he's all innocent and smiling all lovey-dovey-like at you as the two of you place your orders.

The second the woman had gone off to get your food, you and Geto met eyes.

"So, tell me something... If not for this date, what was your plan for me?" The man asks, breaking the silence.

You glance off to the side. "I didn't have one. I was just gonna meet you and figure things out as I go."

He chuckles, "And how'd that end up working out for ya'?"

"Well, given the fact that I'm sitting in a restaurant with no underwear on," You send him a glare with a fake smile, "Wonderful." You say with sarcasm.

He moves to reach for the item in question, soon pulling it out of his pocket and holding it up so that only you can see it. "Want em' back?" Geto asks tauntingly.

You send him a scowl, one he finds ridiculously sexy. Pissing you off is kinda fun. The fabric in his hand is shifted around a bit and he begins to inspect the item, the sight bringing a deep blush to your face and a rush of embarrassment over you.

"Fucking pervert." You curse, this time genuinely bothered.

A lazy smile spread across Geto's overly attractive face, "I can show you something perverted..."

You're glare at him continues. "Is this how you planned on spending the entire night? By taunting and teasing me?" You ask genuinely.

Geto scoffs at your words, "I'm pretty sure you started this, baby."

"I..." Damn, he's got you there. You did start this sexual flirting vibe with him.

But what else were you supposed to do? Your goal is to fuck him.

"Don't be mad that you can't handle my actions or the words that come out of my mouth." He continues while mocking you with a chuckle. He just finds you oh so amusing.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be such a perv..." You murmur.

"Satoru didn't tell you that part, huh?"

"No. No he did not." You say, annoyed with the man who really is to blame for all this.

Geto leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, moving to hold your undergarment with one finger and dangling it in front of his face. "I can only imagine how embarrassed you must feel right now." Actually, he could see it.

He's watching the way your eyes widen at him displaying your underwear so openly, the way you look around the area to see if anyone knows what he's doing, and the way you're clearly panicking.

"Can you just put them away already... Taunting me with that is just... weird." You tell the man.

"Yeah? What if I told you what I wanted to do with them?" He asks in return.

Your curiosity piqued and you raised a brow. "What you want to do with them...?" You repeat as you grow confused.

"I wanna wrap em' around my cock. Y'know use it to jerk off." Geto says so casually that you grow awfully concerned if he has any sense of care for being in public.

"You... can get off on that kinda thing?" You question blindly.

He shuts his eyes and inhales a deep breath, "Fuck yes."

"...I'm not one to kink shame but... why is that pleasurable? It's just my underwear...."

He laughs at your cluelessness before finally putting the item away. "The fact that it was pressed against that wet cunt of yours for hours makes my dick throb," Geto utters both filthyly and shamelessly.

Your thighs rub together a bit and a strange wave of arousal thrums through you. "O-Oh..." You chirp.

"I told you, don't be mad that you can't handle what comes out my mouth." He sighs.

You put your hands over your face and sigh, "You're worse than Satoru," You whisper to yourself.

That makes Geto laugh again, "Am I?"

"Yes." You sigh dramatically.

Though, you're not sure if that's true. After all, Gojo did jerk off right in front of you with no shame whatsoever...

"Would you believe me if I said that everything I've said so far is only to tease you?" Geto questions.

You blink. "Meaning...?"

"The real thing will be much worse."

You feel intrigued so you lean in, "How so?"

He smirks, he's got you exactly where he wants you. "I could make you cum without even laying a finger on you," Geto informs you, cockiness embedded into his tone.

You scoff and fold your arms at him, "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is and prove it?"

"Right now?" He hums with a tilt of his head.

A gulp is heard from you. "N-Not now, idiot. We're still in public."

"I feel like by now you should know, I don't care if we're in public. That won't stop me from doing or saying anything." Geto says.

"So you're into voyeurism?" You ask in a monotone.

He scoffs, "Exhibitionism is the word you're looking for but yes, that too. Isn't it obvious?"

"Slut."

Geto snickers, "I'm into that too, gorgeous."

"You like being degraded?"

"I don't mind it." He admits with a shrug. "I have a long list of kinks that I'm not sure you want to get into right now."

"Maybe I do." You hum.

Why are you still testing this man? You don't know. Maybe you like his reactions. Maybe something about his responses gives you this churn in your stomach. Maybe you want to keep pushing his buttons until you can't anymore...

Geto leans back and looks up at the ceiling, "Why does this woman continue to tempt me?" He asks as if he's speaking to some higher power. Looking back down to you, "I'd rather show you my kinks. Explaining is boring." He says.

You respond with a nod and after what feels like an eternity, the waitress is spotted approaching your table with your orders in hand.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

After the food, things got worse.

Like, much worse than you could've imagined.

You know Geto said he was a man of his word but fuck is he insane. He was not, in fact, lying when he said he could make you cum without touching you.

He proves that later on in the night, long after the date is over and you've made it back to his apartment.

Geto Suguru has a filthy mouth. He'd break down in innate detail on how exactly he plans on fucking you before actually doing it, leaving your brain all mushy at the imagination alone.

But of course, this was only possible because of the things that led up to it.

After the two of you ate, getting from the dinner table and to an Uber was no easy feat. Especially not with Geto in your ear explaining his fantasies to you.

He told you how he thought about renting out the restaurant for the night just to lay you out on the table and dive nose-deep into your pussy-- not a single word filtered. Geto said into your ear that part of him wanted you bouncing on his cock right there at the table. He wanted people to hear and see the mess he'd make of you.

"God the things I wanna do to you," He uttered desperately into your ear.

By now, you were both back in a vehicle, this time on your way home with him.

Geto smiles against the crown of your ear, "Even right now, if not for the diver, you'd be on my cock right now."

His voice is so low, so seductive, ensuring that only you hear him. You're constantly rubbing your thighs together, still lacking underwear to catch the liquids of arousal seeping from your cunt.

Geto suddenly places a hand high up on your thigh, "Spread your legs f'me, really quickly."

You let out a breath of air you weren't aware you'd been holding. "W-Why...?"

"Wanna' check something." He murmurs. You slowly part your thighs and Geto moves to swat two of his thick fingers against your sex. "Mmmh... you're wet..." He whispers as if he isn't aware of the effect his words have on you.

Your legs shut around his hand and Geto drops his head to your shoulder with a chuckle. "What happened to all those little comebacks of yours?" He questions.

"I ran out," You say snarkily.

"Good." Geto hums, raising his hand from in between your legs.

He then grabs a light hold of your face and forces you to look at him. "Cause' if you didn't," The man moves two fingers to your lips and slips them into your mouth. "I'd have to shut you up eventually." He whispers softly.

Your brows furrow at the feeling of his fingers pushing into your mouth but almost reflexively, you suck on his digits gently. The bulge that's been straining against the fabric of Geto's pants for a while now, throbs at the sight and feeling of you.

His cock is just leaking with precum right now, leaving an embarrassing wet spot on his boxers. So badly does he want to get home as quickly as possible and fuck the hell out of you. Your constant words and challenges have had the man erect for a while now.

Hell, maybe he was turned on from the second he laid eyes on you.

He presses down on the back of your tongue and you choke a little-- not that you try to stop his actions at all, leading to him biting his lip. "Satoru told me about you but damn, you really are a slut." Geto purrs.

You hum around his skin but don't stop your sucking motions, leading the man to let a groan leave his lips before finally pulling his hand from you. He couldn't take it anymore. Geto was seconds, literal seconds away from flipping you over and having his way with you.

Luckily for both of you, the driver finally arrived at the apartment and neither of you would have to wait much longer.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[buckyalpine]

Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.

Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.

A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.

“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.

As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.

"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.

"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-

You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.

"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.

"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-

"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-

"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"

You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.

"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.

"You did it, you did amazing mama"

-

After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.

Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.

Eventually he can't help himself.

He has to ask you out.

And he does.

3 years and a wedding later

You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.

"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.

"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.

"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.

"Sleep tight little man"

"Night, daddy"

-

Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.

"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.

"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.

"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.

You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.

[zriasstuff]

Way too close—Theodore Nott x reader

Forced proximity

certain things need to he resolved…

If someone would have told you earlier today, that if you went to tonight’s Slytherin party you’d be stuck in an old closet with the Theodore Nott later on, you’d have never went.

But here you were, stuck beside Theo in an old closet used for storing rags and brooms, which smelled extremely unpleasant. You could practically feel a broom stabbing you in the back, but you didn’t want to move because you’d have to get closer to Theo in the process. He was facing you at the moment, but you weren’t looking him the eyes, instead you stared at the dusty closet floor.

It’s not that you absolutely hated Theo, although he hasn’t been exactly the nicest to you in the past. He always believed that he was entitled to do whatever he wanted without thinking about the consequences, especially the ones that would be inflicted on other people.

You remembered that a year ago, there was this huge rumor that your boyfriend at that time had made out with another girl. It wasn’t true though, and Theo had been the one that spread that lie. You guys broke up anyway, you just weren’t meant for each other, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that Theo had put a huge dent in your relationship and had made you feel so extremely humiliated.

It was a thing of the past, you moved on, but something about him still made you feel uneasy. And besides, he just had this overall intimidating, dark aura around him, as if he’d start a fight with you any second. Perhaps it’s just the way some people are.

You had originally thought that he’d refuse to spend 7 minutes in heaven with you, when the spinning bottle had landed on you, but to your surprise he was quite alright with it. Maybe not happy, definitely not unhappy though.

“What are you thinking about”, he asks you, disrupting the silence that had lasted for a solid minute already, while curiously looking down on you.

“Nothing, really”, you reply.

“Well you look like you got a stick up your ass, what’s with your weird posture?”

Rude. Were you really standing that crookedly, you ask yourself.

“If you must know, there’s this broom digging into my backside and I can’t stand properly without…”, you go silent, hesitating to name him the reason. Why would you, it would only be another six minutes.

“Without what?”, he further questions you in a demanding tone.

“…without practically leaning onto you” Fuck, you said it, and you knew you were blushing so hard right now. Why had you even said that? It was not like it made the awkwardness better. Luckily, darkness surrounded you, masking your intense blushing. What would he say now? You couldn’t possibly imagine a response.

“Then I guess I don’t want you to be uncomfortable now, do I?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was he being sarcastic? He certainly looked serious.

“What are you waiting for, move”

You definitely did not know where this was going, but after a bit of hesitation, you decided to do it, since he was so insistent. Although you were still confused on why he was so comfortable with having you lean on him. You think probably because he’s used to having girls all around him.

Moments later, finally lean onto him, pressing your body closely against his. Faces only inches away from touching. The warmth of his body immediately spreads to you, and you feel his breath on your skin. There was this awfully weird tingle going through your entire body.

His intense stare stuns you so much, that you feel your knees going soft for a second. It’s like you couldn’t focus on anything else besides his electric touch, it made you melt. Meanwhile, you also realize you’d never been this close to any guy before, ever. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all…

“Better?”

“Yeah, thanks”, you dryly reply.

This could be nice, you start to think to yourself. Perhaps you could start some small talk with him, to make the position you were in less full of tension.

“So-”

“So, do you wanna make out now?”

WHAT. What the hell, that came out of absolutely nowhere, and your mind starts to spin. Making out with Theodore Nott after just 3 minutes of talking ? Why in the hell would he even suggest that? He must be out of his mind.

He barely knew you, and now he wanted to make out? So many questions were circling your head, but not a single, coherent response left your mouth.

“uhm- wha, what?”, was all that escaped your mouth in a stuttering manner. It was all you could come up with.

“Clearly, you are not very experienced with party games, so let me explain“, he just so nonchalantly says. “Seven minutes of heaven is for making out. And it doesn’t hurt when the person you’re stuck with is really hot. So, since you’re more comfortable now, can we make out?”

He really had no sense of shame you thought to yourself.

All that left his mouth so matter of factly, that you barely had time to process what he said. Did he just call you hot? Not that you had much more time to overthink it because his lips smashed against yours already.

He used one hand to hold your waist, to keep you close to him, and the other to grab your head. Every single one of his touches sent electric waves through your body, and the kiss itself was so unexpected, yet so gentle. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and his lips were so soft and they intertwined with yours in such a magical way. It ignited a growing desire in you, that you also clung onto him tighter, wrapping your arms around his neck. Every aspect of this made you want to get even closer to him, but no.

He can’t just do this all of a sudden. You barely know him, besides from the thing he did to you in the past. Plus, this was such an intimate moment, and there was no way you were going to experience it in a dusty closet, so you pull back, as much as you want to continue locking lips with him.

“What do you think you’re doing?”, you flip the mood around 180 degrees. That may have sounded ruder than you’d expected, which you didn’t mean to. But you still had to confront him.

“Listen, I know you make out with like 10 girls a week, and this game may be an excuse for you to make out with another one, but I barely know you, and the things that I do know of you aren’t exactly nice”.

There, you’d confronted him, the most intimidating person you know. Seems like you were still pretty hurt by what he did, even if you told yourself it didn’t affect you all that much anymore.

“Playing hard to get huh?”, he raises an eyebrow at you while saying that. “You know, seconds ago, if I recall correctly, you seemed to enjoy the kiss a lot too. And now you wanna act like I forced myself on you, so what’s up with that?”

He was right, you did enjoy it too. It wasn’t fair to blame him completely. What if you had just shut up and enjoyed the kiss? There was no turning back though at this point.

“You’re right, I shouldn’t just pretend the kiss was all you. But I meant the part about you not being such a nice person”, you correct yourself.

“Now, what’s not nice about me?” He asked that in an accusatory tone, but he actually looked genuinely interested.

“Do you not remember what you did to me a few months back?”, you had hoped he would have some sort of memory about that.

“I barely remember what I do during any day, so no. I swear I’ll make it up to you though”, he replied honestly.

“You spread a rumor about my ex cheating on me, which wasn’t true by the way, never apologized, made me feel humiliated for days, and now you want to make out?” When you hear yourself speak those words, it really just made the situation seem even worse.

After not blinking and thinking for a few seconds Theo comes up with something and says “I didn’t realize it was that hurtful, but you gotta know do a lot of stupid stuff”

“I still don’t hear an apology”, you clap back, “and you doing stupid stuff often isn’t an excuse to be a bad person, maybe you should just quit doing stupid stuff.” What came out of Theos mouth was the lamest excuse you have ever heard, and he deserved to be knocked down a peg.

“So you’re seriously not gonna make out with me?”, he asks, sounding almost annoyed.

You didn’t think he could be any more of an asshole than he already was, but here you go. Theo wasn’t even worthy of a reply, so you just rolled your eyes.

At this point 7 minutes must’ve already passed you think because there was no way that 7 minutes were this long. You raise your arm to knock on the closet door, to signal to someone to unlock it, but before you could, Theo stops you in your tracks.

“Wait, wait, wait”, he said while holding onto your wrist, “I’m sorry, I know I come off as a jerk right now and most of the time too, but I do like you and want to make it up to you for having hurt you in the past.”

Even though he sounded halfway genuine, you didn’t fully believe he was sincerely sorry. He had also just completely changed within seconds. You just wanted to get out now, forget everything that happened, but there was no way of avoiding his gaze, that was scanning you right now for an answer.

“And how will you do that?”, you challenge him, to see if he really means it. It would be nice if he did make it up to you after all this time. Better late than never you think. You just didn’t want him to play a stupid trick on you instead.

Theo takes some time to think about his answer again. In the end he replied with “I’ll take you on a nice date.” He sounded way too cheeky saying that.

“That’s kind of selfish don’t you think, I don't believe a simple date will make it up to me”, you retorted at his proposal. Not that you wouldn’t enjoy it, the amazing kiss was still on your mind. When you thought of it, it made your stomach all fuzzy again. You just wanted him to be genuinely apologetic.

When you looked at him again, he was smiling for some odd reason. He countered with “Well, how do you know that it won’t make it up to you, if you don’t even give it a try?”, he did have you there. Perhaps it was his cheeky, yet charming smile, or the kiss, but you saw his point. There was no way of knowing before actually giving him a shot at redeeming himself. Theo continued smiling and he knew that he had somehow convinced you.

To give him a date wouldn’t be the end of the world, so what’s the point of making it more complicated than it is.

He was still patiently waiting for an answer, so at last, you gave him the satisfaction and agreed to a date. It was a huge relief on both of your sides, and you could hopefully finally put the past to rest after the date.

After a bit of more talking and banter, someone finally unlocked the closet doors and apologized for having forgotten all about you. Theo chuckles and flashes a grin at you before saying “Don’t be sorry, I thank you.”

[leona-hawthorne]

HIHI OMG IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU IT FEELS LIKE CHRISTMAS AJSHUWBSBSBW

Anywho, i was wondering if you could do some latte art for a hufflepuff reader, Mattheo, and DADA?

(When I saw that you reached 1k I started squealing I kid you not 🤭)

thank you sweetheart!!!! hope you like what i came up with 🤍

navigation masterlists latte art

ミ★ PARTNERS… mattheo riddle

Mattheo Riddle had a habit of slipping into rooms like he belonged there, even when he didn’t. Defense Against the Dark Arts was no exception. He strolled in late, leaned lazily against the doorway, and let the silence draw attention to himself like some kind of magnet. Professor Dawlish, already red in the face from an earlier misfire of a hex demonstration, pointed sharply at Mattheo.

“Mr. Riddle. Sit.”

The boy dragged his feet with deliberate slowness, muttering, “Such warm welcomes these days…” under his breath. A few Slytherins snickered, and your quill nearly slipped from your fingers.

Unfortunately for you, the only empty seat in the classroom was right next to yours.

“Perfect,” Mattheo muttered when he spotted it, dropping into the chair with an exaggerated sigh. His bag hit the floor like a rock, and he flicked his wand lazily, sending his textbook onto the desk with a muted thud.

You didn’t look at him directly, only caught his sharp profile in your peripheral vision.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” he said, voice dipped in sarcasm but threaded with amusement.

“Didn’t you just make it worse by arriving?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you froze. Merlin’s beard, what did I just do.

For a second, there was nothing—no laughter, no response. You braved a glance sideways, only to find Mattheo staring at you. He blinked once, then tilted his head, an expression crossing his face like you’d just become the most interesting thing in the room.

“Did the little Hufflepuff just insult me?”

Heat climbed your cheeks. “Not an insult if it’s true.”

He laughed—an actual laugh, low and rich, surprising even himself. He bit his knuckle to stifle it, but his shoulders shook, and you turned away, half-annoyed that you’d made him laugh at all.

Professor Dawlish cleared his throat sharply, and both of you quieted as he launched into his lecture on Confringo. You tried to focus, you really did, but Mattheo had an unnerving way of existing. The tap-tap-tap of his quill against the desk. The faint scent of something smoky lingering near him, like firewood and leather.

“Partner up!” Dawlish announced suddenly, clapping his hands. “We’ll practice precision today. Wands only—no explosions, please.”

You winced, already bracing for disaster. But before you could turn to the Hufflepuff girl behind you, Mattheo stretched, arching his arms above his head, and then tapped your desk with the end of his wand.

“Guess you’re stuck with me, sunshine.”

Your stomach flipped. “What?”

“Partners. Us. Dawlish said so.”

“You said so.”

“Same thing.”

Before you could protest, Mattheo was already on his feet, wand spinning casually between his fingers. His smile was crooked and boyish, and you cursed how easily it almost made you smile back. You followed him to the far side of the classroom, where desks had been pushed aside to create space for dueling pairs.

“Alright,” Mattheo drawled. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

“Why would you assume you need to?”

That caught him off guard. He raised an eyebrow, eyes glinting with something curious and teasing. “Oh, please. No offense, but I’ve got a hunch you’re more ‘herbology vibes’ than ‘DADA menace.’”

“Herbology vibes?”

He shrugged, biting back a grin. “You just seem… soft.”

Your wand shot out before you realized it, and Mattheo’s robes whipped suddenly around his legs like a gust of wind had struck him. He staggered back, blinking in disbelief.

“What—what was that?”

You tilted your chin. “I think they call it ‘not soft.’”

Mattheo stared at you, equal parts impressed and disarmed, like he couldn’t quite figure out where you’d come from. Then, slowly, that mischievous smile spread across his face.

“Well, well.” He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, wand at the ready, eyes locked on yours. “Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“Likewise,” you retorted, already lifting your wand.