#but what was really going on is that he would lose his shit any time I was showed the slightest sign of being unhappy or angry with him

[organic-bloodbath]

can you pls do a thanks x reader where reader is like lowk a bad ass. enemies to lovers kind of thing. maybe they have known each other for years. she tripped up during mingle but someone saved just in the nick of time but later in the bathroom he yells at her telling her he can’t lose her because he loves her. and then they kiss and stuff and fall asleep together (im a sucker for angst with a fluffy ending🙏)

I love you, fucking idiot

Thanos x Reader

Summary: As above.

A/N: Hope you like 🫶🏻

☆☆☆

You and Thanos had known each other since middle school. You wouldn't consider the two of you friends, honestly you didn't really know what you were since you wouldn't think of you as enemies either. You had always disliked him, atleast that's what you thought, but it wouldn't go as far as hate. More like he simply annoyed the shit out of you. Thanos had been teasing and bickering with you ever since you were teenagers, and he seemed to enjoy it. It was always harmless, he never actually bullied you.

"Well, well, well – look who it is," Thanos said as he approached you and looked at your figure from head to toe before continuing. "I see you've dyed your hair."

Your hair was naturally dark brown, but you had dyed it pink a few months ago.

"Did you do it to match with me?" Thanos smiled. "Didn't know you were so obsessed with me."

"You wish," you denied, rolling your eyes. "I haven't had a single thought about you in several months."

"So, you admit you've sometimes thought about me," he pointed out and brought his hand to rest on his heart. "That's so touching, Cotton Candy."

"Don't be so full of yourself," you scoffed. "And cut the nickname, it's gross."

When the game started right after, Thanos leaned a little closer to you.

"Wanna race?" he asked.

"For what?" you asked, right brow lifted in curiosity.

"If i win, i'll get to keep the nickname for you," he suggested with a smirk.

"And when i win?" you asked. "Because there's no way i'm losing to you."

"I'll drop the nickname."

"Well, challenge accepted."

As you were running forward, trying to ignore Thanos near you, someone suddenly pushed you, making you fall on the ground. You laid there on your back, managing to stay still when the doll turned around to scan any possible movements in the area.

"As clumsy as always," Thanos mocked quietly above you, smirk on his face.

"Shut up," you mumbled in annoyance.

When it was time to move again, Thanos offered his hand to pull you up.

"I don't need your help," you muttered and started to get up.

"Stop being grumpy and take my hand," he insisted.

You rolled your eyes and let him pull you up. However, he pulled you with more force than you had expected, making you almost to trip forward again but he held you still. You were standing against him now, your heads facing each other to make you lock eyes. Right then the doll turned again, forcing you to stay still for a while.

"Did you always have freckles on your cheeks?" Thanos muttered quietly as he examined your face closer, just thinking outloud.

"Duh," you mumbled and got off his grip when you could move again, taking a quick sprint forward to get ahead of him.

In the end, you did win the game just couple of seconds before Thanos, he was running right beside you the entire way.

"Ha! I win," you mocked him. "Didn't know you let yourself go out of shape when you started focusing on rapping."

"You were just lucky this time," he huffed and rolled his eyes, not wanting to bruise his ego by admitting his defeat to you.

"This time? You want to do this again, huh?"

"Until i win."

☆☆☆

The second game arrived the next day and you were supposed to form groups of 5 with each other.

"Alright, Y/N, you're with my team," Thanos stated, as if he had done the decision by himself.

"Um, no thank you," you laughed.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Thanos narrowed his eyes, taking a step closer to you.

"Now, what kind of competition would it be if we played in the same group?" you asked, crossing your arms on your chest. "The group that finishes earlier than the other wins."

"I see," Thanos hummed. "So what's the prize?"

"You'll see," you said and winked, leaving Thanos on his own without another word to search for your own team members.

Thanos wouldn't show it on the outside, but seeing you go and find a different group stinged his heart a little in a horrible way. Having you in the same group would have meant to either die together or live together. Being in different groups would mean the other could die while the other lived. But he couldn't force you to be in his team, no.

Your group played first and you did end up winning five seconds earlier than Thanos' group. It pissed him off so badly how you could win him twice and then rub it on his face afterwards.

"So, what do i owe you?"

"Besides all those pens you never returned to me in middle school?" you asked. "Hm. New shoes."

"Aw, is that a way to ask me to go shopping with you?" Thanos asked, having that same smile on his face which you hated. "I knew you liked my company."

You just punched his shoulder before leaving.

☆☆☆

The third game started, and along with his own team, you stood next to him as well.

"Now, you're not going to start wandering around this room on your own, got it?" Thanos said to you.

"What are you, my dad?" you scoffed, but having a playful smirk on your face. "You can't tell me what to do."

God, it started to annoy him how you took this as a joke. He wanted to keep you safe – no, he needed to keep you safe.

"You're not going to leave my side, are we clear?"

"That bossing me around is both annoying and kind of hot," you admitted, one of your eyebrows lifted.

"Are we clear?" Thanos asked firmly, voice getting louder.

"Yes, sir," you agreed, but Thanos could see that you didn't take him as seriously as he would have hoped.

As the rounds went by, you did stay with him and not go on your own ways. For that, Thanos was more than thankful. Since he had noticed that you kept following him, one round he didn't look so closely at your way anymore. He trusted that you were right behind him again, because the time was running out very, very quickly now and his team was struggling to find a free room. Thanos eventually did get into an empty room right at the last second.

Thanos turned around as the door had closed and locked itself, but when he saw a guy instead of you, his heart stopped. There were three players in the room with him, and none of them were you.

You had been right behind him, he had seen you. Barely two steps behind running and searching for a room with him. Thanos had been sure of it. But you weren't in the room now.

Thanos instantly ran to the gap of the door to peek out as the shootings started.

"Y/N!"

His heart was racing faster than ever before. Several people had been left outside, you included, and now their bodies were being carried into the black coffins tied with those fucking pink bows. It was too dark to recognise which body belonged to you.

Thanos leaned against the wall in disbelief. You couldn't be gone, that was impossible. You could survive anything. You had to.

He looked at his remaining team mates who were all staring at him. Nam-gyu, Se-mi and Gyeong-su, who looked at Thanos with the most terrified look out of all three.

Thanos stormed towards Gyeong-su and slammed him right against the wall, holding him captive by his shoulders.

"Where did you leave Y/N?!" Thanos shouted. "It was supposed to be Y/N!"

Nam-gyu had to pull Thanos away with a good amount of force so that he wouldn't start beating Gyeong-su up completely.

"Chill up, man," Nam-Gyu tried to calm Thanos down. "She probably found another room, don't get all heated up in the middle of the game."

Thanos took a deep breath and scrubbed his face with his hand in frustration. God he was angry - mostly at himself how he had let this happen just like that and not kept a closer eye on you. He should have held your hand to make sure you were there, but he knew you would have refused and only pulled your hand away.

For the next round, he didn't see you anywhere among the players. There were a lot left and he didn't go through the entire carousel because he had lost all hope. He was sure there was no way you could have survived finding a room in just a few seconds.

Thanos didn't say a word as he walked back with his team after the challenge was finished. Nam-gyu tried to talk to him but he didn't spare any attention on him at the moment.

Then, his heart stopped for a mere second when he saw you walking next to another player, having a conversation with her which Thanos couldn't hear. You laughed at something what player 120 said to you.

You were alive. He heard your laugh, which was always louder than many other people's laugh normally were. Thanos was frozen still for a few seconds, only looking towards you.

He was disappointed when he noticed that you kept your attention just on player 120 and didn't scan the room for Thanos as closely as Thanos did for you. But he didn't waste one moment longer until he stormed towards you with large and loud steps that made many other players around him to turn and look at him.

Thanos grabbed your hand without a warning and pulled you behind him towards the bathroom. You tried to yank your hand off but his grip was too tight.

"Su-bong," you said. "Su-bong, stop."

He didn't listen to you, only dragged you after him so fast you were about to trip soon.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" Thanos shouted when the door had closed. He didn't know if anyone was in the stalls right now and he didn't care.

"What?" you asked with brows furrowed, confused what Thanos was on right now.

"Don't you 'what' at me," Thanos spat, then pointing his finger at you. "What the fuck was that in the game?"

"What was?"

Thanos took a deep, frustrated breath in not to explode in total pieces in front of you.

"You didn't come to the room with me," Thanos said with a chuckle, though he found absolutely no part of this conversation funny. "You weren't in our room, Y/N. Why the fuck weren't you there?"

"I tripped," you shrugged. "You were gone already so i found another room."

You looked so indifferent and how this wasn't a big deal. You looked like you didn't care and it made Thanos even more enraged, fire building inside him unbearably hot.

Thanos laughed. Actually laughed. He didn't know where it came from because none of this was funny, but his emotions unfolded in uncontrollable laughter for a moment.

"Okay Thanos, what's going on?" you asked and crossed your arms. "I tripped, found a room and i'm now here."

"Don't you understand, Y/N?" he said in desperation, putting his arms on both of your shoulders. He had stopped laughing, his face completely serious and turning into anger and annoyance again. "You could have died!"

"Yes, Thanos, i know," you took your turn in laughing. "That's the point, they kill who lose-"

"But you could have been one of them!" he yelled at you, his face now only a few inches away from you. As he looked into your eyes, his wide eyes softened and his face relaxed more, voice turning a lot more quiet as well. "I could have lost you, Y/N. I was meant to protect you."

His hands moved upwards to cup your cheeks in their gentle hold.

"I can't watch you die," he said by barely a whisper. You leaned your face into his touch, a smile spreading on your lips. It annoyed Thanos. "What's so funny?"

"You like me," you stated with a grin. "Admit it, you like me."

Thanos huffed and rolled his eyes, letting go off you. He turned around to leave without another word.

"Come on, just say it," you said playfully, starting to follow his back. He gave you only silence and tried to ignore your finger drawing zigzag patterns on his back. "Come onnnnn, Su-bong. You like me, you like me, you like-"

He turned around in a mere second, stopping on his tracks so aprubtly that you bumped on his chest.

"I love you, Y/N!" Thanos shouted. "Don't you get that?"

Your eyes widened and so did his. The words weren't supposed to leave his lips like that, but you managed to press his buttons in a way to squeeze them out of him. You looked at each other, him sparing a quick glance at your lips.

Before either of you knew it, both of you leaned in towards each other and crashed your lips into a hungry kiss.

His arms were roaming all around your body, pulling you tightly against his body by your lower back. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers brushing through his purple hair. His tongue forced your mouth open wider and was able to dig itself deeper to explore new parts of you.

Then, the door of one of the stalls opened slowly a few metres behind you, startling both of you out of the trance of savoring each other.

Min-su looked at both of you awkwardly, hint of pink on his cheeks, then quickly going to wash his hands and avoiding any eye contact with you. Neither you or Thanos moved during this time, not an inch besides of your heads to follow his movements. Your left hand was resting on his shoulder, your right fingers against the back of his neck. Thanos had his hands on your lower back.

Min-su glanced at you, both of you staring at him and waiting for him to leave, and then hurried out of the bathroom without another look. You and Thanos both burst out laughing at the same time.

"Oh my god," you mumbled and wiped a tear out of the corner of your eye.

Thanos put his finger on your chin, a smirk playing on his face.

"So, want to continue this," he suggested, trailing his tattooed finger along your lip and jawline, "somewhere more private, hm?"

You pushed his hand off.

"As if."

You were about to walk past him, but he grabbed your elbow and spun you around back to face him.

"So you're just going to leave me hanging like that, Y/N?" Thanos asked, eyebrows raised close to his hairline.

"Thanos, i'm not going to go to the damn stall with you."

Thanos grabbed your face into his hands, making you look at him. You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he only looked deep into your eyes.

"Y/N, i meant it," he said seriously. "I love you."

Your brows furrowed.

"I love you and i can't handle the feeling inside me when i even think that something bad might have happened to you," he explained with such a vulnerability in his voice you had never experienced before.

You looked at him seriously for a while, until you started to giggle.

"You loveee me," you teased.

"Shut up," Thanos mumbled, rolling his eyes, and turned his back to you.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind and rested your chin on his left shoulder, gently caressing his chest with your palm in a soothing and calming way like you were trying to calm down a child after a breakdown. He stayed still under your touch.

"I think i like you too," you admitted.

"Just 'like'?" he asked. "Like, a friend or what?"

"Well, i wouldn't want to have you die either," you admitted. "It would make me sad."

"Would you cry over me?" Thanos asked.

"I might. A little bit."

Thanos knew you didn't show your true emotions easily to others and especially didn't admit them with words. He had always known that you showed your emotions through actions, not through speech. It would be useless to force you confess 'i love you' back even if you did love him.

"Would you be okay if... you saw me with another woman?" he asked slowly. "Someone else kissing me like we did, hm?"

You were quiet for a moment, still standing behind him on your tiptoes in the same position, but now grabbed his cheeks with your hand, turning his face towards yours. Your faces were so close your noses were only an inch apart from each other.

"You're mine, you hear me?" you stated seriously with a stern voice, fingers pressing hard on his cheeks. "No other woman is going to touch you as long as i live, got it?"

Grin spread on Thanos' face.

"You likeee me," he mocked you with a smile, imitating you.

"I'll hit you if i have to," you threatened but kept your hold on his shoulders as gentle and relaxed as before.

"I know you've fallen so madly in love with me," he insisted.

"And how are you so sure about that?"

Thanos turned around to make your bodies face each other.

"Because when i do this," Thanos said and simply put his hands on your cheek and lower back, pulling you closer, "you get all flustered and you scrunch your nose like this," he explained, slightly scrunching his own nose. "And you get jealous."

"I don't get flustered," you refused, narrowing your eyes, but you could feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"I'll get you to admit it some day."

"Get over yourself."

☆☆☆

When it was time to finally go to sleep, you had just laid yourself on your bunk, until felt another presence behind you. You didn't have to turn around to see who it was.

"If you think i'm going to have sex with you right now, you're very much mistaken," you stated and turned your back to him. "Go to sleep, Thanos."

Thanos scooped over to lay on the bed on his side behind you.

"Who talked about sex?" Thanos asked, like the entire thing was a foreign concept to him. "I'm tired after the game too, you know."

"What are you doing?" you asked as he put his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body, your back against his chest.

"Getting a comfortable position to sleep."

You stretched your neck to look at Thanos over your shoulder.

"You planned to sleep here?"

"Obviously, señorita."

"Why?"

"Because that's what men do when they love a woman – or so i've heard."

"We're not a married couple, Su-bong."

"Do i have to fall on my knees to propose to you right now to make you shut up and accept me as your sleeping buddy?" Thanos asked, looking a little too serious that he'd actually do it if you kept resisting.

You eyed him for a moment until turned your head away from him back to rest on the pillow.

"If your hand wanders anywhere else than my waist i'll kick you to the floor," you stated seriously as you closed your eyes.

"Fair." Thanos lifted his head to plant a soft kiss on your temple. "Goodnight, grumpy princess."

"Gross."

"I know you love it."

[just1cefor4ll]

Thanos/Choi Su-bong x fem!reader warning. reader has an ed, swearing, not proof read, mentions of a toxic music industry

A/n. if anything here triggers you and it isnt listed in the warnings, dm me and ill add it in. I do NOT by any means encourage this type of “life style” and if you’re struggling with this, please try and seek out help— you’re not alone!!

You never thought love would be this exhausting. When you met Choi Su-bong—better known as Thanos—it was effortless. The kind of connection that didn’t need explaining. You were just a woman who had a shitty day at work and he was just a guy with a passion for music, and you just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.

That night in Hongdae, after his set, you locked eyes across the bar. You knew who he was, but you didn’t treat him like everyone else did.

“You rap?” you asked, casually swirling your drink.

“I try,” he smirked, leaning against the counter.

You scoffed. “I saw your set. You don’t just try.”

And that was it. That was how it started. Late-night walks through Seoul, deep conversations about music and life, stolen moments in the quiet corners of the city. Love was simple back then.

And for a while, life was good.

The first time the paparazzi caught you together, you didn’t think much of it. His fame had just sky rocketed but maybe people would talk for a bit and they’d move on, right?

You were wrong

Within hours, your face was everywhere. "Who is she?" "She’s not even pretty." "She’s just using him for clout." "She’s ruining his career."

At first, you laughed it off. It was just noise. Strangers behind screens didn’t know you— didn’t know him. But the more you saw it, the harder it became to ignore. They picked apart your looks, your past, your worth. The more you scrolled, the more those words burrowed under your skin.

Still, you smiled through it. You told him it didn’t bother you.

And he believed you.

It started small. Skipping meals here and there, telling yourself you’d eat later. You weren’t even trying to lose weight at first—you just didn’t feel like eating. But then the guilt crept in. Every bite felt heavy, every meal like a reminder that you weren’t enough. You started purging before you even realized it had become a habit. The first time, it was an accident—you ate too much too fast and felt sick, so you ran to the bathroom. But after that, it became… easy. A solution. Eat what you want, then get rid of it. No guilt, no weight gain. A perfect balance.

And no one noticed.

Not even him.

He was always busy—touring, recording, filming. When he came home exhausted, you curled up next to him, pressing your body close so he wouldn’t notice how much smaller you’d gotten. If he asked if you’d eaten, you’d lie. “Yeah, I grabbed something earlier.” If he asked why you were so tired, you’d blame work.

You convinced yourself it wasn’t a problem. You weren’t like those girls in the hospital beds, hooked up to IVs. You could stop whenever you wanted.

But you didn’t stop.

And eventually, he started noticing.

“You’ve been getting sick a lot,” he said one night, brushing your hair back as you sat curled up on the couch. “Are you okay?”

You forced a smile. “It’s just stress.”

“You’re barely eating.”

“I eat.” A lie. A reflex.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Is this because of the shit people say online?” “No,” you said too quickly. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. “I don’t care what they think, you know that, right?” He pulled you into his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield. “None of that matters.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did.

You didn’t remember passing out. It was the next day and Su-bong had left earlier that morning for a meet and greet which you decided to sit out, not feeling like facing his fans at the moment. One second you were going to the bathroom and the next you were hunched over the toilet, spilling your guts out before everything went black.

When you woke up, you were in a hospital bed. The beeping of machines filled the silence, the sterile smell burning your nose. Your throat felt raw, your body weak.

And then you saw him. Sitting in the chair beside you, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands.

He looked up when he realized you were awake, and you’d never seen that expression on him before—this mixture of fear, anger, heartbreak.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice was hoarse, like he’d been yelling or crying. Or both.

You wanted to speak, to tell him you were fine, but nothing came out.

“I—” he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “I didn’t see it. I should have seen it.” His jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tears burned your eyes. Because you wouldn’t have understood. Because I didn’t want to be your problem. Because I thought I had it under control.

But the truth was, you didn’t know why. And now, it didn’t matter.

Because it was already too late.

Waking up in that hospital bed was one thing. Facing what came next was another.

The first few days were a blur—doctors coming in and out, voices you barely registered, Su-bong staying by your side through all of it. He didn't leave. Not once. Not when they hooked you up to IVs, not when you were too weak to lift your head, not even when you refused to look at him out of shame.

But silence never lasted long with him.

"You scared the shit out of me," he admitted one night, his voice quiet but raw. He was sitting in the chair beside you, fingers laced together as he stared at the floor. "I thought I was gonna lose you."

You swallowed, throat still sore. "I'm sorry." "Don't—" He shook his head, running a hand down his face. "Don't apologize. Just.. tell me what I can do. Tell me how to help."

You didn't know how to answer that.

But help came anyway.

Recovery wasn’t linear. Some days, you convinced yourself you were getting better. You ate the meals they gave you, nodded along when the doctors talked about therapy, let Su-bong hold your hand and tell you things would be okay.

Other days were harder.

Some mornings, you stared at the tray of food in front of you, stomach twisting with guilt before you even took a bite. Some nights, the voices in your head whispered that you didn’t deserve to get better. That you weren’t sick enough. That this was still your control to take back.

But every time you struggled, he was there.

He held you when you broke down. He sat with you through therapy sessions, even when it hurt to talk about things. He learned. Read books. Asked questions. Stopped saying things like “just eat” and started saying “I’m here” instead.

And slowly—painfully—you started to believe him.

But the world outside didn't make it easy.

You weren’t on social media anymore, but you didn’t have to be to know what people were saying. The news was everywhere.

"Thanos’ girlfriend hospitalized for an eating disorder."

"Scandal or sympathy grab?"

"Fans blame toxic industry for shocking health crisis."

Some people supported you. Others weren’t so kind.

And when Su-bong sat down for his first interview since everything happened, it was only a matter of time before someone brought you up.

"So," the interviewer started, her smile more fake then the diamond ring she had on, "there’s been a lot of talk about your personal life lately."

Su-bong tensed. He knew where this was going.

The interviewer continued, undeterred. "Some fans think your relationship has been a distraction for your career. There’s been speculation that—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The entire room went silent.

The interviewer blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." His voice was sharp, his hands clenched into fists on the table. "You think this is some gossip headline? Some scandal to dissect? I almost lost her because of people like you. Because of people who picked her apart, made her feel like she wasn’t enough. And now, instead of talking about the real issue, you wanna turn this into some bullshit narrative about my career?"

The interviewer fumbled for a response, but he wasn’t done.

"I don’t give a fuck about the music industry if it means losing her. You get that?" His jaw tightened. "She is not a distraction. She is my life."

The interview ended early. The clip went viral within hours.

You saw the video later, sitting on the couch at home, wrapped in one of his hoodies. You expected to feel guilty. Maybe even embarrassed. But instead, for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

He sat down next to you, watching carefully. “You okay?” You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For fighting for me.” He exhaled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I’ll always fight for you."

Healing wasn’t a straight path. Some days were good. Others weren’t. But you weren’t alone anymore.

And that was enough to keep going.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

[anqelrafe]

— ୨ৎ bsf!rafe showing your date what he was missing out on.

synopsis: after getting stood up by your date, your best friend decides he's gonna show him what he could've had. authors note: i'm honestly not sure how i feel about this but i wanted to get something out before i lose motivation. anywayss, enjoy!!. . .♡ content warnings: not proofread. a little rushed cause i'm tired lol. contains smut, mdni. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. oral f.receiving. fingering. praise. on call during sex.

rafe laid on his bed, his head resting comfortably on his pillows with his arm draped lazily over his eyes. he had been listening to you talk about your day for the past hour, just barely listening to bits and pieces. he was really only waiting for you to skip to the lunch date you were supposed to have that afternoon, but you were so stuck on the topic of wanting to try out a new lip combo—whatever that was. so he decided it would just be quicker to just ask you himself.

“what about that date?” he cuts you off mid sentence, moving his arm from his eyes to peer over at you while you leisurely span around in the swivel chair at his desk. “with uhh...what was his name? ayden?” your glossed lips pull into a frown, stopping your spinning “andrew,” you correct, your finger twirling around a loose thread on your shorts. “and it didn't happened. he never came”

rafe's eyes shifted to yours, an annoyed furrow in his eyebrows forming at your admission “you mean that asshole never even showed up?” he scoffed, now fully sitting up against the headboard.

“nope,” your murmur, shifting in your seat “not only that, but he texted me an hour later to tell me he didn't feel like coming.”

“what a pussy,” rafe muttered under his breath, pushing his greasy hair away from his forehead as he tried to suppress an eye roll. he hated it whenever someone wasted your time or let you down. he always thought any guy who you even batted an eye at was incredibly lucky. “he just doesn't deserve you then. n i already told you that you were too good for him. don't know why you don't listen to me. you need to go after guys who would treat you better.”

your lips purse, tilting your head sideways as you toy with the polish on your manicured finger. “uh huh. and who would that be, hm? you?”

“yes.” rafe’s answer is almost immediate and without hesitation. he had no shame, no remorse, no fear. he was straightforward and honest to a fault. “i’d never let you down, you know that. and i'd show you what your date should've done.”

your fingers stop picking at your nail polish, your lips pulling into a thin line. you knew rafe was a good friend, he always had been. but boyfriend material? you weren't so sure. you've seen the way he's run through girls like t-shirts; and you refused to be one of his discards. “rafe—” you started, but he cut you off, waving his hand dismissively.

“nah, nah. don’t ‘rafe’ me. i’m serious. you don't wanna date me? fine. understandable. but at least let me help ya out. y'know, as your friend. i could be uh...setting a standard or...whatever you wanna call it. i could give you a better time than he would've.”

you weren't stupid, you knew what rafe was trying to do. it's how he got all of the island girls to flock over him─manipulation. but was it really manipulation if you wanted it too?

‎ ‎ ─── ✷ ⊹ ࣪

“you taste so fuckin' good. shit — you're drippin for me.” rafe groaned, his eyes trained on drenched folds before they locked on your face, watching the way it contorted in pleasure with every swirl of his tongue against your clit. “feel good, yeah?”

you were only able to force out a few incoherent sounds, the overwhelming pleasure making your brain fuzzy. any guy you've ever slept with never offered or made the slightest effort to eat you out like this. so the new sensation of rafe's tongue had you seeing stars and gasping beneath him. “c'mon, i asked you a question, i want actual words, alright? i want you to tell me how good it feels. and look at me when i'm taking t'you.” rafe spoke against your sex, the vibration of his words making your hips twitch.

“mngh....y-yes.” you breath out, forcing your eyes open to lock to his, “feels good...s'good.” you whimper, glossed lips parting as you stare down at him.

“mmh, there ya go, that's my girl. when i ask something i expect a real answer, yeah?” rafe murmured as two of his long fingers easily slipped into your soaking hole, pulling a mewl from your lips and making your back arch off the mattress slightly. “fuck baby, you're perfect — s'fuckin tight.” he groaned, watching the way your narrow pussy sucked in his fingers, a ring of your slick coating the base of his digits. “y'been giving this pussy to amateurs i bet. don't worry though..i'll stretch ya out real nice.” rafe murmured, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, your eyes rolling back while his fingers moved in slow, deep strokes, finding the spongy spot that made you cinch around his fingers.

“mgnh...fuck, rafe. i—” you gasp, hands fisting the sheets under you, your words being punctuated by rafe purposely humming around your clit, the vibration making your hips twitch. “mmh yeah i know, pretty girl. gonna cum, yeah? go on baby...make a mess f'me.”

his hands squeeze your thighs as they start to tremble, a loud whine falling from your lips as your orgasm hits, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, glossy eyes squeezing shut. rafe groans against you, lapping your juices as he helps you ride out your orgasm. “yeah, that's it, baby...good girl.”

you felt completely boneless, muscles trembling and skin buzzing all over as you slowly try to come down, catching your breath as he pulled himself up to hover over you, his hand tapping your trembling outer thigh “open up f'me baby.”

your eyes flutter open, thighs shaking as you slowly let them fall open. your eyes half lidded as you stared up at him. rafe groans softly at the sight before him, positioning himself between your legs and slowly slid his leaking tip up and down your glistening lips, teasing your clit slowly.

“fuuuck” rafe groaned as he started to slip his twitching member into your leaking cunt, his eyes fluttering at the sensation of him bottoming out. “shit baby, you're so fuckin' tight...suckin' me in s'good” rafe grunted, his hips starting to snap against yours as he drove his cock in and out, watching your lips part and eyebrows furrow in pleasure.

your head falls back onto the mattress as you mewled beneath him, your lips opening but no words leaving your mouth, already too cock drunk to form any coherent sentences. “bet you needed this, hm? needed this pussy taken care of s'bad, you just had to be fucked by your best friend — you like that, don't you, baby? you like your best friend's cock stretching you out?”

before you could even process what rafe said, the sharp, jarring sound of your phone ringing pierced through the air. the loud and harsh sound causing rafe's eyes to snap up in annoyance, his grip on your hips tightening. “fuckin' christ — who's calling?”

with your brain slowly working to catch up to the situation, the persistent ringing of your phone seemed to finally sink in. your hands fumble around as you search for the phone, eventually finding it. glancing at the caller id, your eyes flutter in surprise, and you let out a whimper, forced to keep your eyes open as rafe's hips continue their relentless rhythm. “w-wait,” you stammer, struggling to catch your breath as you see andrew's name flash across the screen. “i — shit — i need to-”

“answer it.” he ordered, smirking down at you as he watched the name flash on the screen. “let him know your best friend's takin' good care of this pussy.” rafe murmured, noticing the hesitance in your expression.

“wasn't a question.” rafe grunted, taking your phone from your hand without any consent, his thrusts getting rougher as he answered the phone, putting it on speaker. “mmh, y/n's busy. fuck— y'know you're really missin' out though, man. this pussy's a fuckin' dream.” rafe spoke between breathy moans, the sounds of skin slapping and both you and rafe's moans clearly heard on the other end by andrew. “hear that? s'the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”

“hey, what is…” andrew's voice comes through the other end of the line, his words trailing off when he realized who he was talking to. “rafe?” rafe's smirk only widens at the sound of the obvious confusion and uneasiness in andrew's voice. “uh huh..” rafe groaned, “fuck man, she's takin' my dick so well; she even makes the prettiest noises f'me wanna hear?” the condescending, almost faux sympathy in rafe's voice was clear, it was obvious he was getting off on this.

he angled the phone closer to your face, making sure the sound of your lewd, almost pornographic moans and whines were clearly heard over the phone. “mmh yeah, all those pretty sounds just for me. but i uh— fuck, she might need to call y'back, man. gonna fill this pussy up soon.”

true to his word, rafe led you through four quivering orgasms after he hung up, letting himself go after your fourth one, his hips stuttering as his cock twitched, his warm liquid spilling inside of you.

“that definitely wasn't our last time...pussy's mine now.” rafe breathed out, collapsing next to you.

taglist 🪽: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl @drewswife @plaidcowboy @missquantic @rafesdiorperfume @minitarayummy @this-one-weeb @akobx @mystianqel @lacebambidoll @dolletebun @milamilkie @ch6rm @rafesprecious

[nuttyhatter]

For the past few days I've been reading Transformers' fanfiction. Am I in the fandom? No. Was I reading about Optimus and Megatron? Yes. Should I be Ashamed? Yeah, probably, but that's not the point.

The point here is that I learned that in the past, Optimus was Orion Pax and Megatron was D-16. And then I remembered an episode of an animated serie I used to watch in Cartoon Network where Optimus lost his memory and he seemed to get along with Megatron and belive what he said. Then I think I stopped watching, either because they always repeated the same episodios or because I got bored, I don't know.

I'm also confused about Megatron's past. D-16 was a miner. But I also read about him as a gladiator and the name Megatronus instead of Megatron is also thrown around.

Orion Pax was an archivist I believe, which I understand as a sort of librarian.

Where am I going to with all of this?

You'll see, I want to know if there is a fic where, when Optimus loses his memory and becomes Orion Pax, he is a complete and absolute menace. He is still an archivist, sure, but he has a Past, he has Lore. He was not the cool and collected hero and soldier he is today and he was not some quite and shy young mech. No, he was chaotic. Trouble followed him and when it didn't, he went looking for it.

I can't decide if I want the past friendship with Megatron to be a part of whatever this is or not.

But lets say it isn't, let's say that Megatron is just as confused as everyone else.

And what about Autobots and Decepticons? Easy, Orion would have no idea what those are. And he wouldn't care. He would only care about how cool flying seemed and then be absolutly exited about being able to do it himself (assuming he can, I don't even know where in the saga I am putting this). He'd want to race the Autobots in the ground and the Decepticons in the sky.

BUT he would not trust any of them. Why? Because they all kept calling him Optimus Prime, insisting that's who he was. Prime! As if he'd ever become part of that system!

In the meantime, he is balancing the despair of the news about the destruction of his home world and everyone he knew with the excitement of a new world plus the loneliness and confusion that came with the later.

For Megatron, you'd think things were ideal since his greatest obstacle was out of the way, right?

Wrong!

There was one thing Megatron could have never imagined, never expected or even suspected, and that's just how much the other Decepticons liked Orion Pax.

Orion was funny, he liked to spar and he fought dirty. He made jokes and teased them and he was not afraid of any of them. He was not stupid and understood that all of the Decepticons had a past, they all had done horrible things, but for some reason that wasn't a deterrent. Sure, the mech didn't trust them (and those trust issues should be adressed, but the Decepticons were no better so...), but Orion was always up for a good sparring session or just fooling around. The mech was also odly well-read in the weirdest of topics from history to medicine, mythology and weird facts about games from Kaon (why? and how?).

And Orion was that odd kind of friend that didn't tell you shit about himself, but for some reason you wanted to tell him everything about you.

And what about the Autobots?

Well, they obviously missed their leader, but the ones that really had a problem were the younger ones because why was Opt-Orion so friendly with the Decepticons but didn't even speak with them?

Orion was avoiding them and he would keep that up until those Autobots stopped calling him Optimus.

Orion would go here and there and some times help the Autobots and others the Decepticons if any of them were in actual troubles because he was still a good person who cared about others while trying not to do so.

Just... Orion Pax accidentally uniting the remaining Cybertronians by being his lovable, reckles, and complicated self.

And there is megop, apparently...

[junovrsmp4]

one of the girls his girl

part 3. the finale

read part 2. here

Chris Sturniolo was bad news. You knew it, every girl within a 100 mile radius knew it. Your own brother had warned you to stay away from him, despite being his best friend. That didn’t stop you from wanting him though.

pairing: chris x reader

pt.3 summary: you've always been a shit liar. you can't keep pretending you're not...

warnings: ABSOLUTE FILTH, very very plot heavy, rough sex, oral, choking, over-stimulation, mild bdsm, p in v, DADDY KINK, slight age gap, angst with a happy ending!

word count: 6.9K (lmao i think this is going to be a thing)

author's note: it's here. it's finally over (not really but yes). im so so sorry for the wait, but hopefully it was worth it. pls pls PLS tell me what u think

Everything felt normal. You woke up expecting things to have changed, to feel different, but last night’s events had yet to settle in your mind, yet to be processed.

The date with Ray had gone pretty well, albeit there being more instances of you zoning out and him having to snap you out of it, wondering if you weren’t feeling well. It had been easy enough to assure him that you were fine, just tired, and him, being the great boyfriend he was, had just kept doting on you and even offered to cut the date short to just have a quiet night in.

You didn’t want that. Quiet night in would have meant confronting what had happened, and you absolutely did not want that.

Instead, you’d let yourself be pulled into a tipsy haze, losing yourself in the presence of good company, good food, and good alcohol.

Which meant, by the time you’d been dropped back home, you’d had just enough energy to wash up and fall quickly into deep, dreamless sleep.

So when you wake up, limbs sore and your head pounding from the slight hangover, Chris is far from your mind. You don’t think about what he said last night, you don’t think about how he’d felt when he’d been so close to you again, how he’d smelt, how warm his head had felt against your shoulder.

You don’t think about any of it.

You eventually make your way downstairs, greeting your parents on the way, before pausing in front of the kitchen.

Thinking about you…

Couldn’t — without thinking about you…

You stare into the kitchen, last nights events solidifying in your mind slowly, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself getting angry, properly angry and upset, because how dare Chris come back and just do whatever he likes with no regard for you or your current relationship?

“Hey,” your brother’s voice sounds from behind you, making you jump. “If you’re not actually getting anything from the kitchen, move. You’re in the way.”

Dazed, you watch as he grabs the Pepsi can that was still on the counter from when Chris left it out, anger and something close to sadness swirling inside you. You turn to walk away, when your brother calls out for you.

“What were you talking about last night? You and Chris?”

Fuck.

“What’re you talking about?” you ask, back still turned towards your brother. You know your face would give you away right now.

“I’m not stupid, ya know? Y’all were in here long. I didn’t think you and him would have much to talk about, so I was wondering what was holding you and him up.”

Your brother walks past you and pauses a few steps ahead of you.

“Like I said, you’ve always been a shit liar, kid,” he says eventually, looking back at you with a slight frown. “Didn’t say anything because I figured whatever it was y’all had going on would eventually stop, and it did. It’s best if it stayed that way, yeah?”

-------------------------------------

Turns out, your brother had known for a while. And in the fear of pushing you further into Chris’ arms by opposing too hard against the idea of you and him being ‘together’, he’d just stayed out of it, in hopes that you would come to your senses and end it.

If only he knew…

Confronted by the results of all your actions leading up to now, you retreat back to your room, angry and most of all, ashamed. And as if he can sense your inner turmoil through the air waves, Chris himself calls you.

The sense of shame deepens when you pick up right away.

“What do you want Chris?” you ask, and the anger must have been evident in your voice, because Chris stays silent for a while before he responds.

“I missed you.”

“No, no- you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave me here and fuck off to L.A., and ruin everything I have got going on now by coming back and saying that shit,” you whisper-yell into your phone. “We were doing fine! I could almost pretend like we were just friends, and then you go and pull that shit last night- I have a fucking boyfriend, Chris!”

“All I said was I missed you baby,” he says, and you can almost hear the pout in his voice.

“No, stop that. Don’t fucking call me that.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t think of me the whole time I was away?”

You clench your fist, biting hard into your bottom lip to keep yourself from...from doing what exactly? Agreeing with him? Screaming?

"Why didn't you mention him? In any of the texts you'd sent. You never once said, 'Hey Chris, I've got a fucking boyfriend now, by the way!'"

He's yelling, and you can only hope he's not with other people, because the last thing either of you needs is for any part of this conversation being picked up and posted online to be speculated over.

What he says further angers you though, because a part of you knows what this looks like, knows that you probably should have mentioned it at some point, but-

"Oh, that's rich coming from you! Did you tell me about all the girls you were seeing, or oh, excuse me, fucking, back in L.A.?" and now you're yelling right back, because fuck it, fuck all of it.

"None of them were serious, you know that."

"Right, of course."

"You're serious with this guy though, so it's-"

"Respectfully, Chris, I don't need to tell you anything. Just because we've been texting since you left does not make us BFFs or anything, you're still just my brother's friend who I slept with a couple of times, and that's it," you bite out, regretting your words immediately after, because they were unnecessarily cruel, and you didn't even mean any of it.

You think Chris is going to get upset, maybe even hang up on you but he laughs instead, and it's one of those full belly laughs that shocks your system.

"Oh, I needed that," Chris says between wheezes and gasps, and you can almost picture him rubbing at his eyes with a wide grin. "You're so funny."

What the fuck?

"I wasn't trying to be?"

"I know, I know," Chris says with a small chuckle, and fuck if his voice and his laughter doesn't warm your heart, makes you want to keep doing whatever it is you're doing to keep getting that sound out of him.

You need to get a fucking grip.

"You forget we were both involved in that little arrangement, and I like to think I’ve gotten to know you more than most people. You can't lie to save your life," he says eventually.

"Why do people keep saying I can't lie, fuck-"

"Who else has been telling you?

“My stupid brother…” you mumble. “He knows, by the way. Can’t believe he didn’t raise hell over it.”

“Oh he did,” Chris says flippantly. “Anyway, can we meet soon? I miss you. Talking through the phone isn’t the same, you know.”

“Um, excuse me, back up, what do you mean, he did?”

----------------------------------

“You punched Chris? Two weeks before he left for L.A., you fucking punched him in the face?”

“Okay, calm down-” your brother tries to say, palms up and out to try and shield himself from your hands smacking his shoulders.

“You fucking punched him,and that’s why he didn’t show up,” you yell, and you know you’re being irrationally angry over something that happened a while ago, but no one should be surprised at how you revert back to being childish with your stupid older brother.

After you’d abruptly hung up on Chris, you’d stomped over to your brother, who was sprawled over the couch watching something on his phone, and without a second thought, you’d grabbed it and chucked it onto the couch before interrogating him on exactly what Chris had meant.

“Look- fuck, would you stop that-” your brother huffs, grabbing onto your hands to stop you from hitting him further, or scratching his stupid face off. “Jeez, okay, can you let me fucking speak?”

“Let me go.”

“Yeah, no, not until you calm down and promise you’re not going to take my eyes out with your damn talons,” he says, motioning to your long acrylics. The acrylics that Ray had paid for. And that reminder makes all the fight leave your body, because what the fuck were you doing, getting upset at how your brother had possibly impeded Chris from seeing you, how maybe, maybe things might have been different if it weren’t for those two weeks when you thought Chris had abandoned you.

“Oh shit-” your brother hisses, as you go limp in his hold, and he follows you down, making sure you don’t just flop onto the ground.

“What’s wrong with me?” you ask to no one in particular, your eyes stinging as tears threaten to spill over. “None of this matters anymore, I should be focusing on what I have with Ray, but I just…”

Your brother stays silent, one hand idly rubbing your shoulder as he looks off into the distance.

“I saw Chris in your room that one night,” he says, after a long moment of silence. “It was clear what had happened before, and there he was just sleeping in your bed with you, shirtless, and I was mad. I remember just pulling him off of you and shoving him out the house, while trying to make sure you didn’t wake up.”

“I didn’t go over to him after with the intention of punching him,” your brother says as he squeezes his eyes shut, the hand on your shoulder dropping to hold your hand. “He was just, so fucking annoying about it. Acting like he didn’t give a shit about any of it, about you, and oh, I knew it was a fucking act. Kid thinks he’s got everyone fooled, but not me, not his brothers. I was just mad that after all that, he still didn’t seem to have the balls to just admit to himself that he…”

You look up at your brother, eyes wide as the knot in your throat grows larger, tears now freely streaming down your face.

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying…”

“Look, I didn’t want to tell you any of this, you’re doing so well now, and you deserve better than a guy who can barely comprehend his own emotions-”

“You don’t get to decide for me,” you whisper, squeezing his hand in yours.

“I- fuck, okay, I know that, but…I didn’t want you to get hurt. And he was hurting you.”

The two of you stay sitting on the floor, hand in hand, in complete silence, until your parents eventually come back from work and joke about how the two of your were probably back to your old shenanigans, and it makes you smile as you lean your head against your brother’s shoulder, because he’s always been there for you, and he’s always just looking out for you, even if he sometimes goes about it the wrong way.

Later that night, after dinner, you walk into your brother’s old room, and find him laying in his old bed. A song you don’t recognize plays through the speakers on his nightstand.

You stand in the doorway for a while, trying to find the right words to tell him how you feel.

“You going to come in, or just stand there like a creep?” your brother asks, hand patting the empty space next to him.

You chuckle, making your way to him, before sitting on his bed cross-legged, not before poking him with your toes.

“What song is that?” you ask, something about it making you feel oddly emotional.

“Weird Sisters. That’s what it’s called, but it’s funny ‘cause they don’t mention you in it, like, at all.”

“Ha ha,” you reply with an eye roll, poking your brother in the ribs as he laughs.

“I have something to say,” you mumble, eyes fixed on a loose thread in your brother’s sheets. Your fingers pick at it, almost pulling it taut.

“Uh-oh, okay…let’s hear it.”

“Look, I- this is all so weird for me. It has been weird, since the beginning. I got into something that was confusing as fuck, and I didn’t have anyone I could talk about it with, not without judgement or, I don’t know, concern? I knew what I was getting into though, despite the confusion. You warned me against it, but I made a decision to be with Chris. Did it hurt, being with him? Yes, but it wasn’t him that hurt me, you know?”

Your brother sighs just then, and you can tell he’s about to disagree with you, say something to interrupt, but you push through.

“No, listen. He didn’t hurt me, not intentionally. I always knew what he was like, and a part of me started hoping for something different, maybe because, towards the end, it did feel different. He made me feel like I was different, special. And, from everything you said earlier, it seemed like he was going to tell me something important, before he ghosted me. Before he left. But none of it matters now, I guess. I’m with Ray, and it sucks ‘cause everything was fine but now I can’t help but think back to my time with Chris. Feels like I’m being pulled in two directions.”

“I’m sorry…,” your brother says, one of his arms going up to cover his face. “I was just trying to-”

You wait for him to finish, but he just stays silent, arm still covering his face.

“Are you…are you crying?”

“What? No!”

“Oh. My. God. You totally are!”

“Shut up,” your brother mumbles through sniffles, furiously rubbing at his face.

You laugh, your hands reaching out to pat him on the head, all the while cooing at how much of a big baby he was being.

“Why are you crying over my weird love life, oh my god.”

“I’m not crying,” your brother protests. “It’s just. You sounded really sad just then, okay?”

“Yeah, well…”

“So, what’re you going to do now? About all this?”

“I don’t know yet, but for now, how about we go out for a drive? Like we used to?”

----------------------------------

Ray notices the weird shift in you, of course he does.

He doesn’t comment on it, of course he doesn’t.

Chris calls you at odd hours of the day, of course he does.

He doesn’t bring up Ray, or the conversation from before, of course he doesn’t.

You feel like a coiled spring, wound up tight, tension seeping into your bones with each passing moment, feeling just about ready to snap.

Two men, both infuriating in their own way, one who was the picture of stability but seemed to be getting more closed off as the days went by, the other, a blast from the past, who might have more to offer now than he did before.

A decision had to be made, that much you knew, and this time you wanted to make sure it was a decision made by you, and not for you.

> we need to talk

> Oh no. What’s wrong?

> nothing’s wrong, but it won’t be a fun conversation.

> wanted to give you a heads up so u dont feel like ur bein ambused

> Okay. When and where?

You’d send that text to Ray a few nights ago, and since then, the two of you had decided to have this conversation at the end of the week, after class for you, and work for him.

“So…,” Ray starts, as he pours wine into both your glasses, before taking a seat across you.

You’re at his place, seated at his dining table with your chin rested on your palm as you admire the flashing lights outside his window.

You look up at Ray, hands coming up to rest on the table, palms up, and he takes the invitation to slide his hands over yours.

“There’s something I have to tell you. I want you to listen till the very end, please.”

He nods at you to go on, and so you tell him. All about your past with Chris, leaving out details he didn’t need to know about, but making sure to get your point across.

You had fallen in love with a man you couldn’t have, and it had broken you for a bit. You fell in love with a new man, and it healed you, but old feelings linger, and you’re scared, upset, and confused.

You’re crying by the end of it, and Ray also looks visibly upset.

“Are we breaking up?” he asks, his hands going slack in your hold, and it terrifies you, the possibility of not having Ray anymore, so you squeeze his hands in yours.

“I don’t know, Ray. I don’t know what to do.”

“We can make this work, if you get over him. And that will take time, I know, but I’m willing to wait.”

That makes your head snap up, your eyes finding his in the dim light.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, and you hesitate.

Is it what you want?

“You don’t have to rush with this, take your time to think about it,” Ray says softly, his thumbs moving to caress your knuckles. “But, I will say this, I can’t be with someone who has feelings for someone else. So, maybe we should spend some time apart, while you decide.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how you found yourself back home, slightly tipsy from the wine that you’d chugged on, even after Ray had tried to hold you back from going for more, but you needed the drinks to dull your senses, even if it was for just a little bit.

You and Ray still talked after the conversation, but things were different now. He’d been respectful, mature and all the good things that he was, but maybe you were hoping he would’ve put up some kind of fight to be with you. Been more open with how he felt about this situation, how he felt about you liking someone else.

You wished he’d told you that he’d loved you. He hadn’t.

A decision had to be made, that much you knew, and it was getting clearer now.

----------------------------------

You’d been ignoring Chris for some time, while you were trying to make your decision. He hadn’t stopped calling, hadn’t stopped showing up outside your window, but you’d exercised more self control than you had in years and turned him away each time.

“I need to think, Chris. I can’t do that with you around,” you’d said, after picking up his millionth late night call.

“How much longer? How much longer do I have to wait before you let me in?” he’d asked, sounding exasperated. You can almost picture him pacing around with his hand running through his hair, frustration making him clench his jaw.

“Hold on, I need to savor this moment. Chris Sturniolo being desperate for a change.”

He chuckles, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine, and an old familiar feeling of excitement settles somewhere deep inside you.

“I thought it was obvious by now, sweetheart. Always been kind of desperate for you,” he’d said, and the words had left you breathless.

You’d made some quick excuse to hang up the phone, and Chris’ laugh was the last thing you heard before your fingers dipped into your underwear and lazily stroked through your wet folds, the words replaying in your mind, over and over.

You’d made yourself cum over and over that night, all to the thought of Chris, desperate for you, as images from years ago flashed behind your closed eyelids.

----------------------------------

The shame had set in eventually, and you’d decided that maybe the best thing to do for now would be to focus on neither man, and yourself.

You told them both as much.

Ray had taken it in stride, of course he had.

“It’s good that you’re focusing on yourself,” he’d said. “I’ll be here if you need me, but yes, I just want the best for you, and if that means focusing on yourself, then do that.”

Chris had been annoying about it, of course he had.

“Hold on- hold on, you have lingering feelings for me?” he’d said, baffled. “And you talked to your boyfriend, but not me, and now he’s not your boyfriend, but you want to focus on yourself? I’m, confused, hold on-”

See, you hadn’t told Chris about your whole internal dilemma, because honestly, you didn’t think he was ready to hear about any of it, just as you weren’t ready to deal with it.

But it had to happen at some point.

“Chris-” you sigh, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as he continues to ramble.

“Why didn’t you tell me, the fuck- I think I should’ve known, right? You should’ve told me-”

“He’s still my boyfriend, by the way. Sort of?”

“What? Why? Break up with him, the fuck-” Chris yells, sounding so incredulous it makes you laugh.

“What do you mean? Why would I do that? It’s not like I can get with you,” you say, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “Sure, I fell for you back then, sure I have lingering feelings, but it doesn’t matter now, does it? Not like you’re into me for more than just my body…”

And it was a bait, because if your brother was to be trusted, at some point, things had changed for Chris, and it had become more for him, but you needed to hear it from him, before you could move on. Move forward.

Chris stays silent, and you’re worried you’d pushed too soon, or maybe you were wrong, maybe he didn’t feel the way you thought he did.

Your heart pounds in your chest, and your hands are clammy now, anxiousness rolling off of you in waves.

What if you were making a mistake, throwing away something good for the mere possibility of something better? What if you were going to be abandoned? What if you’d given yourself more importance than you ever had?

“Hey, hey- breathe,” Chris says slowly, and you hear him take a slow, deep breath in, loud over the phone. “Do it with me, come on.”

You hadn’t realized it, but Chris had heard your ragged breathing over the phone, sensed your incoming panic attack, and with years of witnessing Matt’s anxiety, he’d caught on pretty quick.

“You okay, pretty girl?” he asks after you’ve calmed down. You’d scrubbed your face raw to wipe away the tears that had streamed down your face, and your eyes were puffy, so you felt far from pretty, and you tell Chris as much.

“You’re always pretty,” he whispers. “I still remember how you looked at that game you came to. You were wearing a sweater and a skirt, with some tights underneath? Your hair looked really nice…And then, later that night, remember when you rushed downstairs to grab a snack, but your brother had the whole team over? You had your headphones in, and you hadn’t heard us, but there you were, in a face mask, and a onesie. You got embarrassed ‘cause you looked silly as hell, but still pretty. Always pretty.”

“Chris…”

“This is hard for me, sweetheart, I-”

“No. No, we’re not doing this over the phone.”

“Does that mean I finally get to see you in person then?”

“Yes…”

“Thank fuck. When and where, baby? Right now? ‘Cause I can be there like, right now.”

“Oh no,” you giggle, flopping onto your bed. “I’m going to make you wait a little.”

“Yeah, no, fuck that. Get dressed, we’re going out.”

“It’s literally one a.m. right now.”

“Hasn’t stopped us before.”

“Chris, if you’re trying to see me for-”

“Nope, no, we’re just talking, I know that.”

“Okay, good. Be here in twenty?”

“Yeah, see you then, pretty girl.”

----------------------------------

You’d meant what you said before, about focusing on yourself, for at least a little bit, before making any decisions.

Chris gets whiny, asks you why, tells you to just tell him what you’re thinking straight up, but what you tell him shuts him up for good.

“I need to do this, Chris. I need to make sure the decision I make doesn’t hurt me in the end. I’m tired.”

“So what, you let me see you again, only to tell me we can’t see each other anymore while you’re focusing on yourself?”

“Yes, Chris,” you chuckle, shaking your head at the way he pouts.

The two of you munch of the fries you’d ordered from the diner you were now sat in, Chris’s feet tapping under the table, occasionally coming up to tap against your ankle.

“I’m going to break up with Ray,” you says around a mouthful of fries, just as Chris had taken a sip of his Pepsi, and you watch as it goes down the wrong pipe and he coughs, pounding at his own chest to get it all out.

“Fuck- sorry, should’ve waited until you had your drink,” you say with a grin, handing over a bunch of napkins to him as he huffs and puffs about his shirt now being soaked in Pepsi.

“You don’t look sorry at all,” he squints at you, lips pulled tight. “You serious? You’re going to break up with him?”

“Yeah…he’s great, like really great, especially in bed-”

“Okay, I get it-”

“-but, he was a little distant. Even before you came back.”

“I see…”

“Yeah. Anyway- I don’t see why you care so much, unless you have something to say?”

“Uh…”

“I’m giving myself a month. Before I make that decision. I broke up with Ray, sure, but only because it didn’t feel right to keep him waiting, either.”

“Right…but why does it feel like you’re waiting on me though? Or fishing for something…”

“I think, and I could be so wrong, but I think you have something to tell me, and you’re scared.”

Chris looks down at the table, throat bobbing as he swallows around nothing.

“You know what I want, what I’ve always wanted, right?”

He nods, still looking down, now at his own fingers fiddling with the paper cover of the straws that had come with your drinks, and you pull it away, your hand covering his, pulling his attention back to you.

“I’m giving myself a month. I’m also giving you a month. Okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, chewing on his lip as he looks up at you.

The two of you finish your meal in silence, and you don’t call attention to the way Chris had turned his hand over to grip yours, his hold on you tight and unrelenting throughout the entire meal. He lets go once, when you get up to wash your hands, and then he’s back to gripping it when you walk out to Matt’s car, which he can drive now (that had been a pleasant surprise).

Your hand stays in his, even with your head leaned against the window as you watch the flashing lights of the street lamps outside, as he drives and drives, and it’s silent in the car except for Chris’ soft breathing.

A decision had to be made, that much you knew, but for now, you just let yourself enjoy this quiet moment.

----------------------------------

Time flies by, of course it does.

You keep yourself busy, work on yourself like you said you would. You stay focused on your classes, you get a really good internship that could eventually lead to a really good job, you go out with friends.

You miss Ray, of course you do.

Breaking up with him wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do. Still, it hurt. He’d been good to you, just not…enough.

You miss Chris too, of course you do.

He still texts you, from time to time, but he’s respected your wishes and kept his distance. Until he makes his own decision.

You find yourself reading through all the texts you’d exchanged with him over the years. It’s funny how you hadn’t seen it sooner. How much time he’d been spending talking to you and being with you, and the whole time, you’d been worried he was spending it elsewhere.

You’d given Chris a month.

He’d come back to you in twenty seven days.

> Hey

> hi

> Busy? Can we talk?

> not busy :) what’s up

> There’s something I want to tell you.

> dinner? 8pm?

> Yeah, I’ll pick u up

> kay, see u then

----------------------------------

Dress fancy.

That’s the last text he’d sent a few hours before he picked you up. And you had.

A satin dress with a sweater on top, and mesh embroidered tights underneath, sort of reminiscent of the outfit he’d described back to you on the phone all those nights ago. It seemed fitting, for some reason.

Your parents and your brother are in the living room when you make your way downstairs.

“Okay, that’s a date outfit, who’s taking you out?” your father asks, looking at you from over the rim of his glasses.

“Ugh-”

“He’s going to come in and say hello, right?” your mother asks, smiling as she takes a sip from her cup of tea.

“I’m a grown adult, please stop acting like I’m going on a middle school date.”

You look over to your brother, hoping he’ll be of some help, but he just grins and pokes his tongue out, like the child that he is, so you throw your hands up in the air in defeat and pull your phone out to text Chris.

> my folks think im going out on a date and insist that whoever’s taking me out come say hi before

> Well, yeah, you are going out on a date.

> I’ll come say hi

> ????

> Pulling up in 5

> hello???

You barely have any time to compose yourself before the doorbell rings, and your mother is rushing to answer the door.

You hear the exact moment she processes things, because you hear a screech.

You rush over to the front door, only to find your mother pinching Chris’ ear.

“You- how long has this been going on, huh?”

“Uh…help?” Chris asks with a dopey smile, looking over at you.

“Mom, oh my god, let him go-”

“So, Chris is the one taking you out on a date, huh?” your father asks from behind you, arms crossed over his chest, and behind him, your brother laughs.

“I hate you guys. Mom, let him go, we’re leaving, now,” you say, pulling Chris by the arm.

The two of you make your way out the door, with your parents chuckling and making sure to let you know that you’re going to have to answer a lot of questions later. Your brother follows you out, standing in the doorway.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?” Chris answers, looking back at your brother.

“If you say or do anything stupid, I swear to God-”

“You’re going to punch me, again. I know,” he says, grinning down at you. You roll your eyes, pulling him towards his car.

Your brother nods, before stepping back into the house and closing the door behind him.

You and Chris are close to the car now, but before you can step inside, he pulls himself away from you and regards you with a tilted head and a soft smile.

“You look so pretty, angel.”

Your head dips down as you try to hide the smile that breaks, but Chris has a finger holding your chin, titling your head up to make your eyes meet his.

“I’m sorry it took me this long, to do this.”

You shake your head with a smile, your hands coming up to smooth over the suit jacket he was wearing.

“Take me to dinner, and tell me everything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

----------------------------------

You’d given him a month, and he’d delivered in twenty seven days.

Dinner had been at a restaurant, dim-lit and in a private booth. Chris had said everything he’d been scared to say and more, and you’d both cried through some of it, laughed through the rest.

“I love you,” he’d said. “I think it happened somewhere in the middle, and you’re right, I was scared.”

“I fell for you, and I didn’t know what to do,” he’d said. “I’m so used to girls wanting me for sex, and at some point, I told myself that’s all I’d be good for anyway. I didn’t think it was for me, to want more.”

You’d sobbed at that, wishing you’d somehow seen through his act, comforted him.

Turns out, you’d both been hurting, and neither of you knew better.

You know better now, so does he.

Dinner ends, and you’re back in his car, now parked in an empty lot behind a dark store, and you and Chris exchange soft kisses in the back seat, years worth of feelings pouring out of you.

It starts out almost hesitant, but soon grows heavy, Chris’ tongue caressing yours as he pushes you to lay back on the seat.

“I’m a little impatient, sweetheart, kind of want to just have my way with you right here, right now, but only if you want it too. Please tell me you want this too.”

You look up at Chris, his face half in shadow, half lit by the solitary street lamp in the parking lot, and you’re heart feels so full. You reach up to brush your knuckles against his cheek, before pressing your palm against the warmth, and he sighs, eyes fluttering close as he leans into the touch.

“Say it again.”

His eyes shine back at yours in the dark, icy blue steadily growing darker.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I lo-”

You pull him down by his tie, kissing him, licking into his mouth, before pushing him back.

“I love you too,” you smile.

----------------------------------

It takes some time, to relearn each other’s bodies.

Chris always knows what you want though, so he fucks you exactly like he used to. Like he owns you, like he wants to hurt you. And you love him for it.

What’s different this time though, is the absence of doubt. You know he loves you, and you know you love him. You’re not just one of the girls in his roster, and he makes sure to let everyone know.

Like when you’d visited him in L.A., a few months into seeing each other, officially, and he’d taken you to some party with a bunch of pretty influencers, where he’d proceeded to show you off, before backing you into an empty room and fucked you through the mattress, his hand clamped over your mouth as he whispered obscenities into your year.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

“Can’t keep my hands off of you.”

Or that time he’d come back to Boston and surprised you at work, before driving you back to your apartment, yes, your own apartment (fucking finally), and proceeded to eat you out on the kitchen floor, before fucking you on the couch, hands wrapped around your throat, not restricting your breathing, but definitely making you feel the pressure, the only sounds in the room being your gasps and his low groans, and the wet squelch of his cock thrusting in and out of you.

“Such a good girl for me, you like that don’t you?”

“You’re mine, yeah? Tell me. Only mine. And I’m yours. Yeah, baby, I’m all yours.”

Or now, with your hands tied up against the headboard with one of his ties, another tie wrapped around your head covering your eyes, and a vibrator pressed against your clit, as you sob, beg for Chris to fuck you. And he does, of course he does, but not before he tortures you just a little bit longer, until you’re a drooling mess and barely coherent. Until you can barely mumble as he throws pushes his cock into you slowly, all while the vibrator buzzes away against your swollen clit. He cums for the first time that night with your legs scrambling against the bed, and the vibrator stimulating him through you, and you know it’s far from over.

The ties come off, and you blink against the bright lights, eyes focusing on Chris, his wild eyes intent on your shaking form.

“So fucking good for me, always.”

“Daddy…”

“Yeah baby, I know, I’m going to take care of you,” he says with a gentle smile, hands smoothing over your skin as you come down from your high.

That had been a new development. The daddy kink. Something that had taken you both by surprise. The first time you’d called him that in bed had been a pure accident, and you’d been horrified for a few seconds, until you saw how Chris had somehow gotten harder and he’d been uncontrollable after, almost scarily so. That first night you’d said it, he’d kept you up for so long and fucked you so hard, you’d had to take the day off.

“No one else gets to see you like this, not anymore.”

“Wish I could keep you here like this forever, just so I can fuck you and cum inside you over and over and over-”

“I love you so much, pretty girl. Never going to leave you again, ever.”

Suffice to say, relearning each other was going great.

Sex with Chris was still a rush, like being swept up in a storm, each moment together like a collision between two giant forces. Rough, loud, painful, and so, so satisfying. But now, it was also filled with an indescribable feeling of joy and love that comes with being emotionally connected, finally.

Chris was learning to accept the easy affection you were giving him, and you were being patient, meeting him halfway as he learned to be in an actual relationship.

Now, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

Now, you don’t have to sneak around, wait for him to come to you, because he doesn’t keep you waiting at all.

Now, you wake up beside him, giggling when he presses kisses into your shoulder and tickles your sides, before flipping you over and licking his way down to where you’re still sore, lapping up at the mess he’d left, biting at the soft flesh of your thighs.

Now, you call him after work, meet him outside, and kiss him all over his face while he laughs, and later once your home, you sink to your knees and let him fuck your throat just the way you like it.

Now, he buys you flowers and takes you out on dates, and you both laugh during bad movies, and annoy everyone around you with how in love the two of you are.

Now, he works you open on his fingers while telling you how much he loves you, and makes you tell him he’s yours, reminds you who you belong to, who he belongs to.

Now, he’s openly sincere about his feelings, and he’s still scared, of course he is, but you’re there to remind him how much this is worth, because you love him, and he loves you.

Now, you can hold his hand, and run your fingers through his hair, and he can hold you close, and kiss you before, and during and after, whenever he feels like it, because you’re his girl.

read part 1. here

read part 2. here

author’s note: god this took way too long to complete...thoughts?? also, i just want to say, thank you. thank you for all the love and just, aaa, i cannot comprehend the fact that so many of you STILL waited for this one. ily guys. keep an eye out for the bonus chapter, which will come out HOPEFULLY in a few months lmaoo haha

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @slut4mattsturnio1o @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @cutiepiess4l @kvtie44 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @zina25sworld @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @whyarefictionalmennotreal @55sturn @cheetahmadi @sturniolowhore @cupidsword @sturnsblog @lovehoneygirll @breeloveschris @littlemisswhore @worldlxvlys @sturniolo04 @sturnioloco @littlemisswhore @pandacake128 @chrizznmetswife @spideylovin @sturnclouds

[serpentface]

For Brakul: 12. Are there any particular words that make your OC cringe? Is this due to negative associations? Or second-hand embarrassment? Do they try to conceal their dislike?

12.

When Brakul spoke very little Wardi, a conversation came up where he was trying to ask for an anatomical word for 'vagina' and Janeys kind of missed the tone and supplied him with a slang term that falls somewhere between 'pussy' and 'cunt' in terms of vulgarity and is almost exclusively used to describe the vagina in specifically sexual contexts('tsigod').

He had maybe one or two instances where he casually used it and didn't really get a reaction that would clue him in that it's vulgar slang because it wasn't Outright contextually inappropriate. The few times he heard it from other people were in sexual contexts but that could be expected. He learned other anatomical terms like 'womb' and some inoffensive slang for the vulva, but nothing to replace or challenge his only known Wardi term for 'vagina' and it wasn't like it was something he had to think about that often.

Later on there was an instance when he was assisting with one of the property's cattle who was undergoing a difficult birth, and trying to direct a couple of the teenage herder peasants to reorient the calf in the birth canal. His somewhat awkward wording coupled with him basically saying 'the cow pussy' made it sound like he was suggesting they sexually penetrate the cow in some capacity. So the kids were going like "wait can you repeat that? can you repeat that for me one more time?" and he's like "Yes? the cow pussy???" "Sorry Sir I didn't quite catch that, you want me to put it where?" "Are you stupid? I said the cow pussy-" etc etc and getting fucking bewildered about them losing their shit at him.

Anyway this was humiliating once it hit him what was happening and he can't hear that word tsigod without having flashbacks to being cruelly owned by a couple 14 year olds for unintentionally sexualizing a cow. The calf didn't even survive the birth dude it was sooooo bad.

[goatgoesmbe]

tw : stalking, borderline crime attempted, abrupt ending, assault, shitty ex, SA, DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT

Soap x reader

You were being followed.

At first, you thought you were just paranoid, but you're sure of it now.

This was supposed to be your night, partying to your heart's content at the club, celebrating your promotion at work with your girlfriends.

The thumping of your heart climbed up your throat. You regretted denying one of your friends who offered a ride home before. You felt stupid, thinking that it would be okay since your apartment wasn't far anyway.

Looking back, your held your breath at the sight of a man in a hoodie who tried to act casual, standing by the bus stop.

You couldn't really see his face, but then his eyes locked with yours and you froze.

It's your ex.

He seemed to realize that his cover was blown, since he now starting to approach you boldly.

You should run. But your feet were frozen at the spot.

And when you finally snapped out of your fear, it was too late. His hand gripped one of your wrists when you tried to flee.

"Calm down, it's just me" He grumbled, still not letting go of his hold.

"What do you want?" You snapped back at him, looking up with a glare.

He sighed, sounding like he genuinely regretted everything. But you knew better "I miss you..".

The hair on the back of your neck stood up.

"I already have someone" You then hissed without thinking. And after you managed to get his grip off you, you stomped away.

His footsteps followed behind.

"Oh please, who else would want to tolerate you?" He said mockingly. "Come on.. while I'm still nice" He then added in a purr as his hand reached out to purposefully brush against your ass.

You jumped and let out a squeal which made him panic. His hand claimed your mouth shut and you continued to struggle.

Trashing around, punching and kicking at him as much as you could. But you were losing, feet digging onto the pavement as he tried to drag you to some dark alley.

As your movement became more frantic, you started to tear up and lose hope until suddenly- your ex let go of you to hold his cheek which was now red, a cut forming at the side of his lips.

Your ex glared at the direction from where the punch came "Who the fuck-".

A man loomed over you two, bright blue eyes pinning your ex on the spot, highlighted by the contrast of the night shadowing his figure.

"This is that someone I'm talking about-" You suddenly said without thinking and immediately stood beside this savior of yours. With your hands circling his arm, you pressed against his side. And you felt relieved when he didn't seem to mind.

You didn't know why you said that, desperation maybe, and the fact that he just saved you.

He didn't look bad after all, despite the glare directed at your ex, he seemed like a nice guy.

"My boyfriend um- John.." you said, saying the first basic name that came to mind.

You sensed your savior glanced at you for a split second before returning to glare at your ex.

"Aye, back aff" 'John' growled and pulled you closer by your hip.

His voice was deeper than you expected, giving you a different kind of shiver down your spine. A pleasant one.

You shook that thought of your head immediately. Not the time.

Your ex snickered, but was smart enough to know that he wouldn't be able to take this guy. "Really?" He asked to no one in particular.

None of you responded.

"Listen here, buddy" Your ex started. "A bitch that dressed like that, act like that.. is only want one thing," He said mockingly.

"Dinnae think it's any o' yer business." 'John' rumbled.

And before your ex could say anything in response, your savior got in his face. "Back. Aff. If she e’er feels unsafe aroond ye again, ye’ll learn firsthand whit it’s like tae be truly afraid"

The color in your ex's face drained at that. You watched him hesitating before finally stomping away after sending another glare your way.

The grip on your hip loosened when the piece of shit had gone far enough.

"Are ye alrigh', lass?" He turned to you, the rumble in his voice turning into something softer.

You could only nod in response, your heart was still racing in your chest as you tried to calm down now the threat was gone.

"..Thank you" You murmured after a moment.

"Let me walk ye hame, aye? It’s no safe for a bonnie lass like you tae be oot at nicht alane" He offered with a smile that made you blush.

"O-oh, alright then.. thanks.." You answered, thinking that it would be best to accept since you didn't know if your ex was truly gone for good or not.

His smile widened in response and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two started walking.

Oh you.

Sweet yet foolish birdie that you are.

Falling into his palm just like that.

You should've thought twice before guiding some random man to your address.

You just said it yourself. He's your boyfriend now.

And he definitely won't let his new girlfriend out of his sight.

Or do you really need a lesson on how not to trust a man? Because he would show you why.

...

im ashamed to say this is inspired by one of those ridiculous novel ad, BUTTT I CAME UP WITH MY OWN PLOT

[camgoloud]

he still has his tonsils. by the way if you even care

[eikichi-supremacy]

okay maybe an unpopular opinion but i think shiori shouldn't actually like hiei that much

[anxiously-sidequesting]

To me personally malistaire is the funniest and most pathetic villain wizard101 has ever had AND I MEAN THAT SINCERELY!!! Between doomed children who have been manipulated, groomed, and isolated into becoming products of their environments, someone scorned who has been punished unfairly by having your biological heart torn out your chest and turning your children and all of reality against you to satiate their own ego, a nonhuman entity so powerful and so clueless they unintentionally threaten the lives of everyone around them, Malistaire FELL DOWN BRO. Like yeah you're bitchless now. You and me both. Get in line. Everyone in this room is bitchless. We are ALL living that ✨💅🏾💃🕺 Single Life™. You are a middle-aged man. Cope

[flock-of-cassowaries]

The abusive [partner]’s problem with anger is almost always the opposite of what is commonly believed. The reality is:

YOUR ABUSVE PARTNER DOESN’T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ANGER. [They have] A PROBLEM WITH YOUR ANGER.

One of the basic human rights [they] take from you is the right to be angry at them.

- Lundy Bancroft, “Why Does He Do That? - Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men”, 2002. Available in PDF format here [archive.org link]

The gendered language really marks the book out as being 22 years old, but there are some very good insights in it - this one, in particular.

[tariah23]

Outside of all of… that happening to Gojo, and finishing Snowfall the other day, eek……..

[hydrossity-zone]

hi, would you consider being paid to draw toxic sonadow breakup/divorce?

..anon I have good news

[rowarn]

EXPERIENCE (m.)

könig x inexperienced!reader

tags: age gap, acquaintances to lovers, afab!reader but gn

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, fingering, hand riding (hear me out), pussyjob, talking u thru it, praise, pet names (liebling, little one), size kink/difference, handjob, reassurance/encouragement kink, wet&messy, konig is uncut hehe, squirting

note: konig is in his 40s and reader is in their 20s!

;in which you live in the same building as a really hot, older, military man

9.5k

When you met König, you never expected the harmless interactions to ever evolve into anything substantial. He lived somewhere in the same apartment building as you did, though you didn’t know where exactly. Most times, you would find him in the elevator or cross paths with him in the lobby. 

You knew he was in the military, most of the people living in the building were. It was close to the nearby base and had rent for a damn good price. The way he carried himself, back straight and body seemingly always at attention gave him away. 

He was massive, standing much taller above you with broad shoulders and thick thighs. A lot of the time he was wearing a hood over his face, mostly when he was coming or going from work – which was seemingly all the time. 

On the few occasions that you caught him without the hood, you could tell it was him solely by his build. There was no one else in the building who looked anything like that. 

He was handsome, in a rugged, tired kind of way. He was a lot older than you were expecting him to be – probably in his early to mid forties, you guessed. He had salt and pepper hair, fine lines etched onto his face, and stern eyes from (no doubt) many years in the military. 

You had never properly spoken to him before. Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You greeted him when you saw him and smiled in passing when you made eye contact. Occasionally, he would respond in an accented voice that you longed to ask about. 

The event that changed everything was a fun little night out you had with your friends. You had maybe had a bit too much to drink before finally conceding at your friends’ behest to call yourself an Uber. 

By the time you reach your apartment building, you’re still very buzzed and starting to feel a little nauseous. You stumble to the elevator and impatiently slam your thumb on the button over and over again, losing count as you do. 

“It’s not going to come any faster,” an accented voice drones next to you, nearly making you jump out of your skin. 

“You scared the shit out of me,” you wheeze, hand over your racing heart.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings then,” he says, “Especially when you are intoxicated.”

You huff through your nose, growing annoyed at the prospect of being lectured. The elevator grants mercy and dings before slowly opening. There's a rowdy group of men inside who quickly walk out of the elevator, seedy eyes immediately finding their way to you, scanning your body up and down as they pass by. 

You feel that nauseous pit in your stomach twist as you finally step onto the elevator. Nothing to ruin your jovial mood from a nice evening more than a group of leering men. Living in an apartment building filled with soldiers, it wasn’t unusual to have them stare at you – didn’t mean you liked it. 

You cross your arms over your chest as König steps on, the elevator creaking and groaning under his immense weight. 

“What floor?” he asks softly, glancing at you over his shoulder as he stands in front of the button panel.

“3,” you mumble, leaning against the back wall. You watch him punch in the 3 but not anything else, making you raise a brow, “You live on 3 too?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say another word. You narrow your eyes at his back, if he feels you looking, he doesn’t give it away. The elevator is plunged into silence aside from the quiet sound of the shaft moving up and up until it dings and the doors slide open. 

He steps out first, standing in the threshold to keep the door from closing as you push yourself off the wall. Your head swims for a second and you stumble past him, keenly aware of his eyes on you. 

You wander down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder to see him slowly stalking behind you. His arms hand limply by his sides, his fists clenched into fists but he remains a respectable distance. 

“Why are you following me?” you ask, unable to hide the nervousness in your tone, “You said you don’t live on this floor.”

“Young recruits are tools,” he supplies simply, “I am making sure you make it to your door without any problems.”

That causes you to hum and for a little flutter in your stomach to manifest. You brush it off and pause at your door, pulling your keys out so unlock it. You push it open and step in, letting it hit your back to keep it from closing as you turn to look at your companion.

“Thank you…um…” you clear your throat and look at him expectantly. 

“König,” he supplies simply, arms tucked behind his back, making him look even wider. 

“König…” you repeat, feeling the words on your tongue, “Interesting name. Where are you from?”

“Austria,” he replies almost mechanically, “I will be going now.”

You don’t get to say another word before he’s stalking away and down the hallway, heavy footfalls practically rumbling the ground beneath him. You slowly close your door and lean against it, hand placed over your racing heart – when did that start up? 

You blame it on your inexperience when it comes to men. You’d had a couple boyfriends, pretty standard for someone in their 20s. Your problem was none of them were ever good enough. The over-zealous types who wanted their dicks sucked as gratitude for paying for dinner. Then would turn around and either give you the most lackluster head of your life, barely any foreplay before trying to shove his dick into an unprepared hole. 

You had never given them the chance, once they showed they were only interested in their own pleasure and would more than likely not even think about touching your clit or angling for your g-spot, you stopped them and kicked them out. More often than not, you woke up to a break-up text because of course you did. 

So that was how you were still a virgin and more or less, at this point, given up on dating. You’d been single now for the better part of 6 months and had no intentions of giving any men your own age a shot at it. 

But…you hadn’t considered an older man. Like König. 

At that thought, you pushed yourself off the door and kicked your shoes off, intent on taking a shower to hopefully wash these drunken thoughts out of your head. So he’d been nice and walked you to your door, no questions asked, so what? Didn’t make him any different from men your age. 

As you made it to the bathroom, you felt your stomach finally churn for the final time and found your head buried in the toilet. You cursed yourself for not listening to your friends, who apparently knew your own limits better than you did. 

The next time you see König is just a few days later. You walk into the apartment’s gym on the ground floor, and there he is – sitting lifting weights. You pause when you see him, feeling that traitorous flutter in your chest you were sure you puked out that night you had learned his name. 

You watch the way his biceps flex, bulging so large you’re sure not even two of your hands could wrap around the girth of it. There were some scars littering his skin, most of them white and raised from age but a few that still had that new tissue pink color. You also noticed some fading tattoos encircling his forearms. Fuck, he was hot. 

You hung your head and scampered over to the treadmill, intent on getting your cardio up. 

As you run, you notice a group waltz in, laughing and shoving each other. You glance over at them, rolling your eyes when some of them make eye contact and nudge their buddies. They lean in close and whisper to each other with shit eating grins on their faces and you find frustration building up so you try to ignore them. 

“Quiet,” you hear an accented voice snap, full of authority, “You are disturbing everyone.”

The rowdy young men quiet down immediately and clear their throats, “S-Sorry, Colonel,” one of them utters.

‘Colonel? Is that high ranking?’ you find yourself wondering, making a mental note to look that up later. 

Either way, König manages to make the gym peaceful once again and you finish your workout with no other hitches. 

You grab your towel and dab at the sweat on your face and neck as you swiftly make your way out of the gym, completely unaware of the shadow following closely behind. 

You slow to a stop at the elevator, punching the button to call it as you sip on your water bottle, mindlessly going over what else you need to do with your day. The shadow behind you remains stagnant, still and silent as it lurks behind your unsuspecting form as the elevator opens and you step on. 

He follows, hefty weight causing the elevator to groan as usual. That gets your attention and you jump, placing a delicate hand over your racing heart just like you had before, eyes wide in shock at his appearance.

“You’re doing it on purpose now!” you whine at him and he has to fight back a smile at it. 

“I told you that you needed to pay more attention to your surroundings,” he replies smoothly, pressing the 3 button for you before pressing 5 for himself. 

“How is a guy as big as you able to be so quiet?” you ask softly, making note of the floor he lives on. 

“Years of training,” he gives a quick response that you hum at. There is a beat of silence before he finds himself speaking again, “You never gave me your name.”

He sees the way you look at him in surprise and he almost wishes he could rip the words from the air as soon as he says them. He doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea that he actually wants to get to know you. 

But you smile softly and give him your name with a kind nod of your head before the elevator grants him mercy and dings at the arrival on your floor.

“See you around, König,” you say as you step off. 

He doesn’t respond. 

Once back in the safety of your apartment, you find yourself going through the entire interaction in your head over and over again. Your heart races as you think back on him. 

It's as you’re making dinner for yourself that you finally have the coherent thought of revelation that you may have a crush on König. 

The revelation is almost enough to have you groaning out of frustration into the quiet sanctity of your apartment but you manage to refrain. But you can’t deny you don’t quite know what to do about it now. You had sworn off of men but…that was men your own age. König was…older than you, surely at least 15 years your senior, possibly more. You figure it couldn’t hurt to ask him out for some coffee one of these days. 

Except, the next time you see König is almost 2 weeks later. You don’t see hide nor hair of him at all. It definitely puts a damper on your confidence and you almost think your crush was just a fleeting little thing and for that you’re grateful for. 

Until the elevator opens one day and there he is. He’s wearing his hood but his eyes look even more exhausted than usual – beyond the general tiredness that comes with age. You carefully step on, joining him in the downward descent to the lobby. It’s just the two of you and feel that fluttering in your chest start up again and your hands begin to sweat. You scour your brain for something to say — anything to start up a conversation after so long of not seeing him.

“Haven’t seen you around,” you mutter softly. He hums softly in acknowledgement but doesn’t supply much of a response beyond that, “Where have you been?” you try again.

“Deployed,” he finally responds after several seconds of silence. 

You can’t find any way to respond or keep the conversation going but it’s sure that he has no intentions of doing so anyway. Still, it surprised you that he had been deployed, you hadn’t considered that. It made sense now that you thought about it. 

The elevator opened and you both stepped out. He walked much faster than you, beelining out of the apartment and you briefly considered letting him go but another part of you wanted to stop him and ask him out. 

You cursed to yourself and jogged forward, calling his name. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of you calling for him. He looks down at you over his nose, a burning gaze that makes your nervousness spike. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good time after all. 

“What?” he snaps, clearly impatient.

“Oh um…” you clear your throat and slow to a stop, “N-Nevermind…”

He huffs through his nose and resumes storming out of the apartment. You find yourself sighing deeply, following his lead. When you get outside, he’s nowhere to be seen and you once again find yourself wondering how a man of his size is so good at not being seen. 

A few nights later, the weekend rolls around and you find yourself standing in that damned elevator with him once again. He’s maskless and it gives you pause before stepping on. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before he says, “I am sorry for the other day.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, “Um…what do you mean?”

“I was not polite towards you,” he answers, casting a soft gaze towards you that makes your heart flutter, “I took my bad mood out on you and I should not have. So…I am sorry.”

“Oh…” you clear your throat and give him a smile, “it’s alright, König. I shouldn’t have bothered you with something silly.”

He frowns at you, “Something silly?”

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, smiling kindly at him. 

He wants to ask you what you mean but the elevator door opens and you step out, making him realize that you reached your floor. You wave your goodbye to him as the doors close and he lets his head fall back with a sigh once he’s alone.

Yet another bad day weighed heavily on his shoulders when you came waltzing into the elevator, bright eyed and happy. His fists were clenched behind his back and he did his best to avoid looking at you, hoping you would take the hint and not speak to him like you usually did. It hadn’t been but a day since he had apologized to you for making an ass of himself in the lobby and he didn’t want to do the same thing so soon after. 

But then you say something that sends it all crumbling down.

“Hey…” you start, fidgeting your fingers in front of you, “Would you like to get coffee sometime? Maybe lunch?”

You ask it so sweetly and softly. For some reason, that grates on his nerves even more than anything.

“What?” he snaps, cold and sharp in a way that makes you visibly freeze. 

You look up at him like a deer caught in the headlights, “Um…w-well, I just…it’s…I would like to…”

Your nervous babbling only serves to piss him off even more as his glare narrows down on you, making you shrink in on yourself where you stand. Suddenly, the elevator feels much smaller than it had ever before – even with him filling most of the space as usual. 

“You want to go out with me?” he spits, his accent growing stronger with every venomous word that he can’t seem to stop from spilling from his lips, “I am twice your age, what the hell makes you think I would want to date you?”

You swallow thickly around the lump forming in your throat and bite back the tears that threaten to form. He hears you sniffle and promptly snaps his head to look at you. Under the ugly, yellow light of the elevator he can see the tears trickling down your cheeks and he suddenly wants to slap himself into the next decade. 

He wants to open his mouth so badly and apologize for being so cruel to you. He knows he could have told you no in a much softer way rather than making your feelings seem like something revolting or stupid. But the elevator doors open and you’re slipping out before he even has a chance. He decides not to chase after you. 

It’s for the best, he assures himself. 

It only takes a few days before he’s vehemently regretting not stopping you then and there. 

It happens on a Friday night, the elevators are closing just as a hand jumps between them, sending them opening again. You step on, giggling in a way that tells him you’re just a little inebriated. You freeze when you see him standing there, maskless and cold gaze as he watches you tug a young man into the elevator behind you – clearly a little drunk himself. 

You pointedly stand in front of König, keeping your back to him to show that you’re not even willing to look at him. König feels his heart clench painfully in his chest before it’s replaced by a wash of anger as he watches the young man paw at you. He slips his hand down your back to grope at your ass, making you giggle breathlessly before you’re batting his hands away with a little bat of your lashes. 

König wishes he had an excuse to step off the elevator at the same time as you – anything to prolong his time with you. He’s never felt the desire to cockblock someone more in his whole entire life. 

But he doesn’t move. He just watches you step off without a single glance in his direction before you’re vanishing around the corner and the elevator doors close silently, leaving König alone with his thoughts. 

You couldn’t believe you brought this guy to your apartment. You especially couldn’t believe you were letting him strip you of your clothes and paw at your body like some kind of mindless dog. You had sworn to yourself that you were not going to fall into this trap again – a 20-something year old guy buying you a drink, complimenting you a little, teasing and groping you in the club until you caved and brought him home. It wasn’t your first go around – and it always ended the same way.

But you were drunk and you needed to get your mind off that stupid, giant Austrian military man that lived in your building. And wouldn’t you know it, he was on the elevator as soon as you got in. It was almost enough to sober you up, your wounded pride and feelings still so prevalent even after a few days of nursing the hurt. 

You could only hope that this would relieve you of your hurt feelings. 

Unfortunately, you quickly realized that this was a mistake. 

As soon as he started groping you, spreading your legs and trying to stuff his cock inside you without so much as a single finger of prep – you knew this wasn’t going to happen.

You tried to lead him, thinking maybe he was a little too tipsy to actually think about it.

“How about a little prep, hm?” you ask softly.

He pauses what he’s doing and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, “Oh…you’re one of those…”

He says it in disgust and you feel yourself bristle in annoyance, “One of what?”

“You want me to eat you out, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “That shit’s gross, c’mon just let me stick it in, already.” It was that moment that you felt any minute desire you had to have sex evaporate. 

You don’t even bother walking the guy out, leaving him to limp to the elevator in shame with a hard cock and blue balls.

It takes you a few days to find it in yourself to crawl out of your apartment. The only reason you actually do leave is because you’re in need of food – your little supply of ramen has depleted and you have to bite the bullet. 

After your little shopping trip at the nearby convenience store, you find yourself waiting for the elevator when a dark shadow looms over you. You feel a pit of dread in your stomach as you smell the musky, sweet scent of his cologne. But you don’t dare acknowledge his presence. 

He doesn’t give you long to ignore him, however, before he’s talking to you.

“How was your little date?” he asks, voice dripping in a tone of condescension that immediately puts you on edge. 

“What’s it to you?” you hiss, still not daring to look at him. 

He scoffs, “You went and found yourself a little toy to play with awfully fast. Seems your interest in me wore off quickly, no?”

That gets you to finally turn around, meeting his cold, indifferent gaze with your hot, teary one. You miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face.

“What is your problem?” you snap, “You rejected me, what the hell do you care what I do? And for your information, the date was shit. He was shit, like I should have expected any difference. God, I really am a fucking idiot,” you find yourself rambling, a lamenting spiel that you can’t seem to stop no matter how badly you want to, “Just like every prick before him, he was selfish and revolting. I thought I could finally get fucking laid and just call it a day but no, my stupid standards are too high and I find myself asking out the hot older guy in my building only for him to find me revolting!”

By the time you’re done ranting, the doors open and you storm out of the elevator, angrily gripping your bag of groceries. König is frozen where he stands, watching you leave as the doors slowly close – almost begging him to put his hand between them and stop them so he can chase after you. 

But he doesn’t.

It’s creeping up on midnight when there’s a knock on your apartment door. You’re curled up on the couch, watching some random show that you weren’t really invested in but couldn’t be bothered to change. 

The knock makes you jump, startled, but get up nonetheless. A quick peek in the peephole tells you exactly who it is before you even open it. 

You briefly consider not opening it period but find yourself opening it before you actually settle on a decision. 

König stands in front of you, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand, looking comically small. The sight is almost enough to get you to crack a smile. Almost.

But the residual hurt from the last few interactions you’ve had with him is enough to keep you stoic. You raise a brow and you practically see his confidence falter. A pang of guilt goes through you at the sight and you step aside, waving him in with a quiet huff. 

He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his boots off as he watches you wander into the living room. You take a seat on your couch, covering yourself with your throw blanket once again as you watch him wander in, gazing around at your decor before finally settling on you. 

“Um…” He clears his throat nervously and places the flowers on your coffee table, “I think that we should talk…”

“Should we?” you quip back.

He sighs, broad shoulders heaving with the movement before he takes a seat beside you, taking up a hefty amount of space on your small couch. 

“I want to apologize,” he says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “When you asked me out…I-I should not have spoken to you like that.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “If that’s all this is about, König, then you can go. I-I don’t really want to hear a half-assed apology about the way you rejected me. You’re not interested, let’s just move on from it. I’ll get over it.”

He shakes his head quickly and curses under his breath, a word you don’t understand – German, your brain supplies, helpfully.

“You are wrong,” he says, “I do not want you to get over it because I am interested.”

The gets you to perk up, eyes wide, “What do you mean? You said you–”

“I know what I said,” he mutters, “I am…twice your age…”

“So you mentioned before…” you reply.

“I do not think…you should be with someone old like me,” he continues softly, “You should be with someone your own age. That is what I thought. It is not that I don’t find you attractive; I think you’re sweet and lovely. But it's just…our age difference…”

“König,” you stop him from continuing, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

“I understand that but…” he trails off, casting a sideways glance across the room, away from you.

“I’ve tried dating men my own age, König,” you say, “It always ends the same – I send them home blue balled.”

He huffs out a laugh through his nose and finally sets his gaze back on you, “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t plan to…” you begin, running your hand along the soft fabric of your blanket, “it’s just that...I bring them home and then we start getting into it and it fucking sucks!”

“Sucks..?” The question is soft and drawn out. 

“He wants to fuck my throat and won’t even give me his fingers before trying to stick his dick in,” you spit, angrily glaring at the tv as you remember all your shit encounters, “I’ve never even let one of them go all the way.”

“You’re a virgin…?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess. I mean I’ve had shitty oral and stuff but…”

“I see…” he trails off, shifting in his seat, hands still folded in his lap, “Well, I would like to take you out for a date after all.”

You find a smile spreading across your face faster than you can stop it. You jump to your knees and throw your arms around his shoulders with a squeal of happiness, “Really? You mean it?”

He laughs breathlessly, a husky little sound that makes your heart race, “Does this weekend work for you?”

You eagerly nod your head and lean in. You catch the way his eyes widen briefly before your lips meet. You think he’s going to pull away from you but instead he cups the back of your head and deepens the kiss. 

You feel a shiver go through you at the feeling of his big, strong hand holding you there in the kiss. You couldn’t keep yourself from getting wet even if you wanted to. 

With your hands pressed against his firm chest, you toss one leg over his lap and find yourself seated on top of him. He breaks the kiss at that, hands migrating to your waist where he mindlessly strokes his thumb over the skin exposed by the way your shirt rode up.

You lean down and kiss him again and he groans against your mouth. You grind down against him in response to the throb that makes your pussy clench around nothing. You whimper into the kiss when he suddenly stops your movements with a firm grip. 

“We shouldn’t, liebling,” he whispers softly.

“Why not?” you whine, settling in his lips. You briefly realize that you can feel something hard beneath you and that makes you start dripping in your panties, “Don’t you want to?”

“I-I do…” he assures, “I just…want to properly court you…”

He couldn’t get any sweeter if he tried. Still, you quip back with a teasing little smile, “Wow, you are a lot older than me, huh?”

You feel giddy when the sweet look in his eyes melts away into something darker. One hand clasps the back of your head before he pulls you in for a much rougher kiss. You keen as you feel the way he exudes experience – the kiss like nothing you have ever experienced before. 

The way he moves his lips and slips his tongue into your mouth to taste your mouth, it’s not gross or too much the way it sometimes is with men who don’t know what they’re doing.you find yourself moaning into the kiss before you even realize it. 

He pulls away at that, a heady look in his pretty, blue eyes. You find yourself briefly lamenting the loss of his mouth but that thought disappears quickly when he moves to begin peppering kisses along the length of your neck, making sure to nip at your jaw and kiss your shoulder. 

He tugs the hem of your t-shirt down just a bit so he can have access to your collar bones, nipping and kissing there as well. Your head falls back as you surrender yourself to him completely. 

“Oh,” he coos softly, lips brushing against your ear, “You are just so sweet for me, aren’t you, little one?”

You practically whimper at his words as his hands slip under the hem of your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your skin. You squirm in his lap as his touch tickles you on his way up to your breasts, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his roughened palms. 

You sigh into the quiet room, arching your back to press deeper into his hands. His thumbs graze over your nipples and you moan. 

Sure, you’ve had guys grope your tits before but it had never felt like this. The mindless squishing and squeezing was replaced with soft cupping and gentle brushes over your nipples until they hardened followed by pinches and flicks that left you absolutely dripping in your panties.

He takes mercy on you quickly, one hand sliding down your body to slide under your sweatpants and beneath your panties. Your hands grip his shoulders, blunt nails biting into them when one broad finger slides down, the sticky noise of your folds separating enough to send heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re so wet,” he whispers in a tone so soft you almost think it wasn’t meant for you, but then he tacks on, “Do you hear it?” 

“Y-Yeah,” you whimper, embarrassment flooding through you at the sticky, clicking noises that come along with his prodding, “N-Never been this wet before, König…”

That causes him to pause, blue eyes gazing at you through his eyelashes, “Is that so..?” You desperately nod your head, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his hand, but he doesn’t move again and you whine, “Has anyone ever made you cum on their fingers?”

“J-Just me,” you answer breathlessly without a second thought. 

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins moving his hand again. This time he introduces more fingers, spreading your folds apart with his index and ring so he can pet your hardened clit with his middle. The feeling makes tremors run through your body and he huffs a laugh, “I guess I will show you what it feels like then, yeah?”

He doesn’t give you a moment to think let alone answer before his middle finger is sliding into you. The one digit alone is enough to stretch you, given how massive he is in whole. He crooks his finger forward and a moan rips from your chest when he hits that gooey little spot inside you. 

“A-Another, please, König!” you beg shamelessly.

“Shh,” he hushes, shaking his head, “Let me work you open on this and then you can have more.”

You practically wail in despair, letting your forehead drop forward onto his shoulder. You suddenly wish you had rid yourself of your clothes so you could see the way his hand worked against you. All you could see now was the faint movement under your pants but the mental image of that thick finger inside you, slick with your juices was enough to have you clenching desperately around him. 

After a moment, he adds a second finger and you feel like you’re in heaven. The stretch is phenomenal and his palm bumps against your clit every time he sinks them into the last knuckle. 

However, before he can set a rhythm to really start getting you off, he stops. You angrily lean back and glare at him – the sight has his lips quirking up.

“Ride my fingers,” he orders you, leaving no room for arguing.

You can tell he’s not going to give you anything unless you take it for yourself so you sit up higher on your knees so you can have the clearance to move. Your hands remain on his shoulders, clinging to him for stability as you clumsily begin to rock your hips. The only time you’ve ever done these movements is when you tried humping your pillow once after seeing it in some porn. It didn’t really do much for you so you never tried again. 

König can tell your movements are clumsy and it makes his cock throb against his thigh. He helps you along, crooking his fingers just right to grind the tips against that sweet little spot inside you. It makes you moan beautifully and he files the noise away. 

His other hand comes up to grip your hip, steadying you as you continue to hump his fingers. You’re growing more and more frustrated as you quickly realize that you’re not able to make it feel as good as he had earlier. The tearful little gaze you give him has him breaking, using the hand on your hip guiding you into more seamless movements. 

“Like this, liebling,” he directs softly, “Grind down like that, mhm, give that little clit some love, yeah?”

You become increasingly breathless as you work yourself higher and higher under his expert guidance. He can feel your juices dripping down his wrist, the snug hold around his fingers growing even tighter with every little rut of your hips. 

“You’re so precious,” he coos, feeling the way you clench up at the sound of his voice. Your body is so honest, telling him what you like without you having to say anything, “You’re going to cum, I can feel it. Be good and give it to me, yeah?”

You surge forward and desperately kiss him, one hand reaching down and gripping his wrist. It takes only a few more, desperate thrusts of your hips for you to topple over that edge. Your body trembles on his lap and you cry out in pleasure. 

He moans alongside you, watching with rapt attention as you cum all over his fingers just like he told you to.

You slump against him as you come down and he pulls his hands out of your pants. He presses a kiss against your temple in silent praise, hands rubbing your back to soothe you through the aftershocks that run through your body.

You lean back and meet his gaze, an opportunity he takes to slip his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth. At that, you surge forward and kiss him, running your hands down his body to pull at the button of his jeans. He grunts into your mouth, brows furrowing at the release of pressure when you tug the zipper down.

You’re absolutely speechless when you finally pull his cock free. He watches in poorly concealed pride as you gawk at the length in your hand. You give him a slow and tedious tug, watching the foreskin roll over his head, forcing a bead of precum from the tip. 

“You’re so…big,” you whisper breathlessly.

“I know,” he grunts, unable to hide the ebbs of pleasure you give him as you play with his cock.

“Cocky,” you tease softly, continuing with your soft touches. 

“N-Not cocky,” he whispers, licking his suddenly dry hips, “Just aware of my size.”

You drop your eyes back down to his cock, hot and heavy in your hand. Your fingers don't even touch each other when wrapped around him. Precum drips from the tip, leaking down the side to meet your palm and aid in the movements. 

He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and furrowing his brows. It wasn’t often that he got to indulge in someone else’s hand. Your palm was so soft, much softer than his own, and delicate in your inexperience. 

He reaches down with one his hands, wrapping around yours to make you squeeze tighter, “Just like that, little one, that’s how I like it.”

You could have drooled as he said it. His hand dwarfed yours and the sight made you clench around nothing, more slick leaking into your already ruined panties. 

“Let me see you, liebling,” he whispers breathlessly, fingers hooking on the hem of your top.

You release his cock to lift your arms, letting him tug the fabric over your head. His hands are on your tits immediately, mouthing at your nipples without wasting a second.

“So pretty,” he coos with his mouth full, rolling his tongue over your nipple before nipping the bud with his lips.

He switches to the other one, wrapping his mouth around it, sucking sharply before pulling back, taking your nipple with him before releasing it with a pop. You watch with lidded eyes as he drools all over your tits. His cock flexes and twitches against your thigh as he plays with your tits.

Suddenly, with a firm grip on your waist, your whole world flips and you find yourself on your back on the couch with König on top of you. You lick your lips at the sight of his big, broad form hovering above you, caging you in as he leans down to kiss you again.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth, threading your fingers through his short, messy hair, using the grip to pin him against you. He lets you kiss him to your heart's content, only pulling back when you need air – a string of spit connecting your lips that breaks when he leans back between your thighs. 

His fingers took into the band of your pants, tugging them down, taking your panties with them until you’re completely bared before him. He’s still completely clothed aside from his cock that rests against his abdomen, occasionally twitching as his eyes rake over your nude body.

“Tell me, liebling,” he says, strong hands running up the length of your thighs, “Has anyone ever eaten you out?”

You clumsily nod your head.

“Was it good?” he asks, biting back a smile when you shake your head.

“Guys always think it’s gross or something…” you whisper softly.

He hums softly, “That is because you’ve been messing with stupid little boys.”

“You gonna eat me out, König?” you ask him, biting your lip in a poorly concealed excited grin.

“Would you like me to?” as he asks, he slowly spreads your legs open. The position causes your folds to spread apart, opening you up for his greedy eyes.

You feel your breathing speed up as he kisses down your body, starting with your lips and ending right above your clit. You feel the little bud twitch in anticipation as he tongues the skin above it, giving you a sneak peek on what is so close to it. 

“Tell me,” he says.

You whine, “Y-Yes, I want you to eat me out, König!”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t bother teasing you anymore. He meets your gaze and moves his tongue lower finally, sliding the flat of the muscle of your clit. You gasp and toss your head back into the cushions, eyes rolling back as he noisily slurps at your cunt. 

“O-Oh god!” you wail, hiccuping out noises of pleasure that you can’t seem to quiet.

König is in heaven. It’s not every day that he gets the opportunity to eat such a pretty, inexperienced little cunt. Your reactions to everything are so strong and loud. Your pussy is loud too, squelching in the room, making an intoxicating melody with your moans. He moans against you, swallowing down everything your messy little pussy drools out for him.

“Th-That feels so good, König!” you sob, kicking your feet mindlessly against his back as he captures your clit in his mouth, suckling at the bud, “You’re so good, so good, oh god!”

Never in a million years did you think being eaten out could feel this good. The mindlessly, halfhearted licks and kisses you had received in the past did nothing to prepare you for what it felt like to really have a man’s tongue on you. 

He pulls away suddenly, giving you a moment to actually breathe, “You taste so sweet, liebling.”

“König…” you whimper, looking up at him with lidded eyes, “Please, please don’t stop.”

You tug at his hair and attempt to pull his mouth back down on your pussy. You don’t care how pathetic and desperate it is, he has given you a taste of pleasure you’d never experienced before.

He has the audacity to laugh at you, brushing your hands away so he can sit up straight again. He scoots closer and you realize then that he is not planning to continue and it practically draws a sob out of you. 

“We can focus on that another time, liebling,” he promises, making you clench around nothing, more slick dribbling out for him to see, “You are so messy, you know that? Never had someone make such a mess all over me before. You must really enjoy being eaten out, huh?”

You feel your face burn hot with shame at his words, shyly hiding your face away. He smiles softly at that, “Nothing to be ashamed of, liebling…I love it, I do.”

“Really?” you quiver out the question and he nods his head.

“Yes, little one,” he coos, “I’m glad that I can make it feel good for you.”

You practically feel hearts in your eyes as he says that. You don’t think you’ve ever had a man tell you that he actually cared and enjoyed your pleasure. That was the final nail in the coffin for you – you really should have been going after older men all this time.

He disrupts your thoughts by suddenly stripping his shirt off. Your mouth goes completely dry at the sight of his bared skin – firm muscle, hair speckled all over his torso, and numerous scars from untold stories of his time in the military. You take note of the faded tattoos that become visible on his pecs and biceps; you’d always noticed the tattoos on his arms but you’d never really been given the opportunity to look. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper.

He pauses while ridding himself of his jeans and smiles, “Thank you, little one.”

When he’s completely bare to you, you slowly rake your eyes down the entirety of his newly exposed body. His cock hangs heavy under its own weight, glimmering at the tip with his precum. You’d never been with a guy who was uncut but the sight made you drool. 

“Now, liebling,” he says suddenly, getting your attention. He scoots closer, spreading your legs as wide as he can before laying the hefty weight of his cock against your cunt. It’s hot and throbbing and your entire body trembles at the sight, “You have to understand something.”

“What..?” you ask, breathless and unable to look away from his cock. 

“I am not like those little boys you were running around with,” he explains, hips slowly beginning to rut against you, length parting your folds and rubbing over your clit, drawing a sweet little moan from you, “I don’t stick my cock in a tight little cunt and blow my load, do you know what I’m saying?”

You shake your head, too lost in the sight and feeling of him practically fucking the outside of your pussy. He doesn’t stop the mind-numbing rolls of his hips, letting you get lost in the feeling of him stroking over your clit, saturating him in your cum. 

“That means,” he sighs, reaching up to grip your throat, forcing you to look at him as he leaned over your body, sandwiching his cock between the two of you, “I don’t cum easily, liebling. I am a grown man, I will fuck you until you cannot cum anymore. Are you prepared for that?”

The fact this man was so confident in his abilities in bed has you clenching around nothing again. You were sure the guys you almost slept with would never have been able to have the pure confidence that came from König. He knew what he was doing – he knew how to make you cum and he was going to use that experience well. You knew his age played a factor in how long it would take him to cum and you couldn’t wait to experience it.

“I want it so bad, König,” you beg softly, “Please?”

“Very good,” he praised, “You’re so good for me.”

He finally gripped the base of his cock and you watched excitedly as he pressed the tip against your entrance. You reached down and wrapped your arms around your knees, pulling them back for him so he could comfortably begin pressing into you.

The stretch is beyond anything you’d ever felt before. You knew his cock was big but watching the bulbous tip press against you and slowly spread you wide open was something else entirely. It burned in a way that had you wincing, furrowed brows making your face pinch up, making König pause. 

“It’s okay, little one,” he whispers, bringing a big thumb up to roll over your hard little clit, “Just relax for me, don’t clench up or it will hurt more.”

“I-It’s so big, König!” you wail helplessly, tearily staring up at him as he methodically works you open on his cock.

“I know,” he assures, still stroking your clit with the pad of his thumb, “But you can take it.”

You tearfully nod your head and do your best to relax your body, letting yourself sink into the couch. 

“Good, liebling, very good,” he coos, “Just let me in, nice and slow. Doesn’t it feel nice? The little burn of being stretched open but the pleasure of having this pretty little clit played with? Just lay back and enjoy it, little one.”

He’s right, of course. The burn aches, yes, but the pain and pleasure mixes the more he rubs your clit. You clench around him, an involuntary reaction that causes the head of his cock to finally pop in. Your eyes widen as you watch your cunt swallow it and with a perfectly timed tap against your clit, your back arches and you’re cumming.

“O-Oh König!” you squeal, eyes rolling back into your head as you cum around the head of his cock and nothing else.

“Oh, that’s good,” he grins, “That’s perfect, little one.”

As you come down with a tremble in your thighs, you finally fix your gaze on him once again.His eyes are lidded and pupils are blown so wide you can’t even tell they’re blue anymore. 

“That looked like a good one,” he comments almost flippantly before he rolls his hips forward, “Now you’re nice and ready for me.”

You choke on a gasp as he rolls his hips forward, fitting half of his cock inside your still spasming cunt. Your cum coats him in a slick sheen that aides in allowing him to pull back and slide back in, settling on fucking you on half his cock.

Your mouth falls open and you watch as a thick, milky ring forms around that fat middle part of his shaft, “M-More, König! Please!”

He knows you want all of him, want to know what it’s like to feel all of him stuffed deep inside you. But he knows you’re not quite ready for that yet, fucked out of your head from the intense orgasm he had just given you with ease.

“Not yet, liebling,” he coos, keeping his pace slow and steady, “Let’s work you open a little bit more, yeah?”

“No,” you whine, “Please, I want it all, König.”

“Aww, I know you do, little one,” he pants, already feeling dizzy from spearing you on his cock, “But I know what’s good for you, just listen to me and be good, okay?”

“Okay…” you pitifully whimper, sinking back into the couch. 

You abandon your hold on your legs, letting them rest around his hips limply now. He continues moving like that, inching deeper and deeper into you with every thrust. Your cunt makes embarrassingly loud squishing noises the move he works his hips against you. 

Before you know it, you’re watching with wide eyes and an open mouth as his pelvis presses against yours. Your eyes roll back in your head and your toes curl in pure pleasure as you finally experience the entirety of everything König has to offer. 

You’re speared wide open and the head knocks against your cervix painfully but the little bit of pain only makes the pleasure that much sweeter. 

“There we go, little one,” he coos sweetly, “I’m so proud of you, took all of my cock so well.”

He’s so big that he presses against every sweet little spot inside you without even trying. But, oh, his experience is crystal clear in the way he moves. He may be naturally gifted with a nice, fat cock but he knew how to use it.

Seamless, rhythmic thrusts had your brain going fuzzy before you even knew what was happening. You wouldn’t have been able to be quiet even if you wanted to. You knew you would be absolutely horrified to face your neighbors later because it would be impossible for them to not know you got fucked real good. 

Suddenly, König leaned over you, resting one forearm above your head to hold his weight off of you. The position caused his pelvis against your clit every time he sunk balls deep. Sticky strings of your cum stuck to his skin but he didn’t seem to even notice how wet you were.

But, oh, he did. He was absolutely obsessed with the way you creamed and gushed around him. A nice, pliant little pussy that was more than eager to swallow every inch of his cock.

The change in position had you grappling onto him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you wailed into his shoulder. Every mind-numbing snap of his hips hit that gooey, tender spot inside you that had your entire body twitching from the pleasurable stimulation. Your nails bit into his back and he briefly thought about the prospect of his recruits seeing them. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” he whispered in your ear, pressing a sweet kiss underneath your ear.

You nod your head, “Y-Yes! You’re gonna make me c-cum again, König!”

He chuckles under his breath, “I know I am, little one. I’m going to make you squirt.”

“C-Can’t,” you heave, twitchy legs kicking against his back.

“Yes, you can,” he assures, leaning away to sit up once again, “I can make you squirt, trust me.”

The whine you emit pitches into a squeal when he presses his palm against your lower stomach. You reached down in a panic to grab his wrist, not used to the strange feeling of him pressing down while he fucks you. 

“W-Wait!” you wail.

“Wait for what?” he asks, but doesn’t slow even a bit in his movements.

“F-Feels weird!” you gasp, hiccuping as you squeeze his wrist. 

“I know,” he grunts, brows furrowing at the feeling of you clenching around him, “It’s supposed to. Just lay back and let it happen, liebling. I’ve got you.”

Your whole body trembles and your jaw drops as you meet his gaze, a look of wonder crossing your face as you feel an orgasm like you’ve never felt before crash over your body. It’s long, drawn out and almost painful from how good it feels. You squeeze tight around him, your clit twitching and pulsing, completely untouched as he makes you squirt. It splashes against his abdomen and drips down his thighs. 

“There we go,” he laughs, a sound that sends a flush of embarrassment to your face, “See? I told you you could do it.”

“König…” you slur, feeling as if you’ve been fucked completely braindead.

It finally dawned on you that you would never, ever be fucked by anyone as good as König has fucked you. The first cock you’ve ever been stuffed full of and he made you squirt with terrifying ease. You were completely ruined, no dick would ever be able to compare to his. 

He sees the way your gaze turns completely enamored, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars. He grins, sharp canines poking out as he leans down again, kissing your temple.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, “Dick so good it’s got you in love?”

You keen at the pure condescension that drips from his voice. But he’s not wrong, you can practically feel the hearts in your eyes as you gaze up at him.

You have no idea how long you’ve been pinned beneath him, speared open on his cock while he fucks you absolutely stupid. You notice the change in him quite suddenly. His deep, concentrated thrust changed into something less calculated, messy almost. He loses his rhythm and falters in his pace.

“I’m going to cum, liebling,” he grunts, tone pitchy and gruff, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside!” you immediately cry, not missing a beat. He sees your eyes light up at the prospect of being filled up completely by his cum. You’re so sure it’s going to be a lot, you want to feel it drip out of you as a reminder that he had claimed you.

“Is it safe?” he huffs, but you can feel his cock twitch inside you at the idea of cumming inside you.

You desperately nod your head and he allows himself to fall over that edge. He teeters on his knees before collapsing with his hands on either side of your head. He no longer tries to thrust, settling for desperate, deep grinds that stirs his cock within your walls. Your eyes roll back in your head at the feeling, another orgasm washing over you before you even realize you’re that close.

“Oh, fuck,” König gasps, voice breaking as your orgasm sends him over the edge.

You’re panting and whimpering, trembling as you feel the heat of his load filling you up. His cock twitches with every spurt of cum. It’s the best orgasm he’s had in a long time, his balls throbbing with every pump of cum his cock spits out. 

It oozes from around the tight seal you have around him, dripping onto the couch. He’s trembling by the time the intense orgasm comes to an end. He opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them, to see you sleepily staring up at him with a dazed smile on your lips.

“Mein Gott…” he huffs out, lowering his body to press his lips against yours sweetly, “That was incredible, liebling.”

You beam under his praise and wrap your arms around his neck, “It was, wasn’t it?”

He chuckles and strokes his thumb against your cheek, “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you agree.

The care he gives you afterwards is like nothing you’ve ever experienced. He wipes your body down gently, careful not to rub your skin too hard. He stands with you in the shower, towering over you as he lathers your exhausted body with soap. 

“Can we do that again sometime?” You ask softly when he crawls into bed beside you – which you were shocked about, but didn’t complain.

He raises a brow and chuckles, “Yes, liebling. But not right now, I could not go another round so soon.”

You giggle and snuggle into his broad chest, practically preening when he wraps you up snug against him. You sigh softly and speak up again, “Can we…still go on that date..?”

He’s quiet for a moment before you feel a kiss on the top of your head, “Of course, liebling. I would love to.”

You smile to yourself and close your eyes, content to fall asleep wrapped up in his arms. The last thing you feel before you succumb to sleep is another soft kiss against your head. You realize, sleepily, that you’ve never felt more cared for by a man in your life.

property of rowarn; do not modify, repost, or translate.

[fmhobeus]

fwb!suguru who knew he wanted to fuck when he first laid eyes on you. then wanted to take you out to endless dinners to chat his ears off when he first spoke to you.

fwb!suguru who grew to like you without fucking you, almost forgot it was what he wanted you for – a life together or a night together?

fwb!suguru whose dick got painfully hard when you taunted him, rolled your eyes at him or outwitted him. he lived for your sassiness.

fwb!suguru who happened to fuck you on a random night unexpectedly and it changed the trajectory of his life.

fwb!suguru who stayed after every dick appointment. cuddled with you on the bed, watched movies or your favourite TV show, ordered take out and held you in his arms till you both inevitably fell asleep.

fwb!suguru who couldve sworn he wasn't in love with you. he would still fuck other people (and then come back to you, poor baby was thinking of you the whole time)

fwb!suguru whose grown accustomed to your presence. he calls you when he isn't feeling okay, you call him when something bothers you. he's grown used to you telling him all about work, how you got your nails done, how you saw a cute cat near your apartment. trivial details, which coming from anyone else he would hang up, but he looks forward to them with you.

fwb!suguru who eventually stops fucking other people and is just your man, without you knowing.

fwb!suguru who is determined to mark you up in placed people will notice. your neck, your thighs, your collarbones.

fwb!suguru who believes in giving you his all. all of his long girthy dick that pumps you full it should be criminal, his long slim fingers that have made you orgasm so often and hit that deep spot with unbeat ease, his long tounge... oh god his tounge. he thinks maybe even his long life ahead is yours too, all yours. his little kids too maybe? he doesn't like to think too much about that.

fwb!suguru who has to have your pussy checked with his tounge daily. he has to lap up your insides no matter any circumstances. his voice purrs across your body when he talks you through your orgasm.

"mhmm yeah cum all over my face beautiful, I know you want to"

fwb!suguru who gets sick at the thought of you sitting so pretty for another man when you tell him you're going on a date. suguru who looks so disturbed at the thought of another man even looking at his pretty girl who isn't really his.

fwb!suguru who takes you to corporate events just so he can call you his girlfriend, even if it's just pretend. when you question him it's always "easier explanation than a friend i fuck on the regular, isn't it?"

fwb!suguru who knows how you like your coffee in the morning. he knows what you like for breakfast, your comfort food, your hobbies, your favourite movies, your least favourite movies, your icks, your past. he knows you like he knows himself. he thinks of you when he passes your favourite cafe, he texts you when he sees something in the colour you like.

fwb!suguru who is sure he hasn't felt this way before, who is so vulnerable with you that it scares the shit out of him.

fwb!suguru who is afraid, angered at everything about you. he's angry at how you lull him into a sense of security, how you hold him, how sweet your voice sounds when you call him by his name, how you take care of him, how you listen to him. he hates how your pussy clenches his dick for dear life, milking it dry and how you never let a drop of his cum go to waste, licking it up like a little slut. he's fearful too. about losing you. about where loving you the way he does leads. loving you? wait. he loves you? fuck. fuck. fuck. this hasn't been according to plan at all.

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.